Thanks, Holly! No doubt, the hard part is sustaining this sort of feeling in week seven, when everyone is feeling sort of exhausted and hopeless. The struggle is real!
Other than teaching fiddle and the occasional one-off class or independent study, I'm not in the undergraduate classroom any more--but when I was, this was pretty much exactly how I learned to approach my students. Teaching a first-year seminar was so illuminating: I learned that even the most self-assured athletes had all kinds of Stuff going on. I think I hadn't worked that out before I taught that class, but I'm so glad I eventually did. Thank you for describing this mindset/approach so well!
Yes, it takes effort to see behind their brave fronts, especially sometimes the male students. We do an exercise where everyone goes around the room and uses one word to say how they’re feeling. The women, trans and nonbinary students say things like, “tired” or “on the struggle bus.” The men all say things like, “fine” or “okay” or “great.” Many of them are really not fine or okay or great, but it’s too hard for them to admit that, which makes me so sad.
Yes! And I think what unlocked some of the guys’ willingness to be vulnerable in that first-year seminar was that they knew I had already seen their files, had met their families at drop-off day, and had seen them during their first and most tentative moments during orientation. Later on, some of those guys modeled that vulnerability to younger students in their classes. During my last year teaching at that institution, one of my most memorable classes included a senior who had been in my first-year seminar. By the luck of the draw, this class (Music in the United States) was 90% guys. When I told them I would be leaving at the end of the year, most of us cried—even though most of us (myself included) are not criers. I was so glad to have been part of co-creating a space where that was possible—but I credit the guys themselves (and especially that one senior and a couple of juniors who had a lot of clout in the frats) with making that happen.
That’s such a great feeling, following a student through all four years. And, yes, so important if there’s one guy who sort of leads the way for the rest of the men. It’s okay to be curious and to show enthusiasm and to be vulnerable.
Loved this post, so echoed my memories. That first day, all promise. Teaching at a community college, which meant 5 classes with 45 students each at the beginning of the semester, it was harder to differentiate at the start, but I remember watching each class during their first in-class essay, and feeling such a wave of love for each and every one of them (whose names I now knew), wishing them the best, even though I knew that some would disappoint, and others I would worry I had failed. But again, in that moment, looking at them scribbling away...it was all promise and sometimes tears would actually come to me with the fierceness with which I wished them all the best.
Exactly, Louisa. I try to remind myself of this in week 7 or week 9, when we’re all at our low point. Each class is fleeting and precious and I’ll never get it back. Might as well enjoy it while we can.
“That’s what I believe, anyway. If you know someone intimately, you see them in their weakest moments. You see their vulnerabilities and their fears. You see, in other words, that they are very much like you. That might not make them your favorite person ever, but it makes hatred pretty difficult.”
Truth.
And that’s why we always want to divide and dehumanize. That’s why we call another group cockroaches, so it’s easier to hack them to death with machetes. Even if we’ve lived as neighbors for generations, and are joined through marriages but we belong to different groups, when we take away their humanity, it is so much easier to round them up and ethnically cleanse our part of the city by executing their men and boys, and raping their wives and daughters.
I see so many variations of “reThuglicans” and “DemonRats” even here on Substack. Divide and dehumanize. Some posts on Notes are like drive-by shootings dripping with hate. It’s some primitive evil deep inside us that we too often choose to give into. It is a choice to give into it. We can choose otherwise.
Robyn, I really appreciated this essay about how you see your students. To know them, even a little, is to love them, or like them, or be willing to go out of one’s comfort zone to tolerate them and maybe even to try to understand them.
Carry on. The world is a better place because of your attitude. Thank you.
First of all, I love that you have a real chalkboard! And I love the class where we come up with topics for our papers - so much fun when they realize that all ideas are acceptable and written on the board. Although it is a white board, not chalk. I love my students and become their cheerleader, encouraging them on to success. Of course, I am worlds away from anything near "full time", so that may make a difference! Teaching is such a meaningful endeavor. I'm happy for your students; to have a teacher who cares means the world.
All teachers should be cheerleaders. There’s a temptation sometimes to slip into teacher as cop—trying to patrol their behaviors and figure out when they’re cheating. I have to remind myself that in no universe did I ever sign up to be a cop. But a cheerleader? Yes, I can handle that.
This is my first fall not teaching in 20 years. You highlight what I like best about the first days. It's so fun piecing them together. I taught college comp at a high school, and the kids are so out there, even when they're reserved or even quiet.
loved this piece--and there's so much that I connect with, after 3 sessions with my own groups of first-year students. I particularly like what you say about the energy in the classroom, which I think about a lot. I've stopped making slides for my classes because it felt like all the energy in the room was going to the front (or to students' laptops . . .) and it's really shifted how I plan my teaching--instead of thinking about what I'm going to say, I have to focus on what students will do. it helps it feel like the energy is shared among us, rather than all going up to the front.
Glad this resonated with you, Nancy. Yes, I've contemplated using slides in my classes at various points over my teaching career. But I don't like how scripted they feel in a way that writing on the board isn't. Sure, you can skip a slide, but it feels like going off-script. I'd rather have as little in the way of a script as possible in the first place. If we go in an interesting direction I didn't anticipate, that's okay. Terrifying sometimes, but still okay.
or, better yet—pilfering from the supply closet! (I started teaching in a very under-resourced public high school where we had to bring in our own copy paper, so the idea that there’s a closet with post-it notes and index cards in it for the taking still feels like a marvel to me, even at the decidedly unfancy public regional university where I teach now! ;) )
As a fellow educator heading into week two with my students, I really appreciated this piece.
Thanks, Holly! No doubt, the hard part is sustaining this sort of feeling in week seven, when everyone is feeling sort of exhausted and hopeless. The struggle is real!
Other than teaching fiddle and the occasional one-off class or independent study, I'm not in the undergraduate classroom any more--but when I was, this was pretty much exactly how I learned to approach my students. Teaching a first-year seminar was so illuminating: I learned that even the most self-assured athletes had all kinds of Stuff going on. I think I hadn't worked that out before I taught that class, but I'm so glad I eventually did. Thank you for describing this mindset/approach so well!
Yes, it takes effort to see behind their brave fronts, especially sometimes the male students. We do an exercise where everyone goes around the room and uses one word to say how they’re feeling. The women, trans and nonbinary students say things like, “tired” or “on the struggle bus.” The men all say things like, “fine” or “okay” or “great.” Many of them are really not fine or okay or great, but it’s too hard for them to admit that, which makes me so sad.
Yes! And I think what unlocked some of the guys’ willingness to be vulnerable in that first-year seminar was that they knew I had already seen their files, had met their families at drop-off day, and had seen them during their first and most tentative moments during orientation. Later on, some of those guys modeled that vulnerability to younger students in their classes. During my last year teaching at that institution, one of my most memorable classes included a senior who had been in my first-year seminar. By the luck of the draw, this class (Music in the United States) was 90% guys. When I told them I would be leaving at the end of the year, most of us cried—even though most of us (myself included) are not criers. I was so glad to have been part of co-creating a space where that was possible—but I credit the guys themselves (and especially that one senior and a couple of juniors who had a lot of clout in the frats) with making that happen.
That’s such a great feeling, following a student through all four years. And, yes, so important if there’s one guy who sort of leads the way for the rest of the men. It’s okay to be curious and to show enthusiasm and to be vulnerable.
What a great experience!
Tara Westover had a great insight about not being able to admit how we are really feeling. “Saying I’m fine is what not feeling fine people say.”
So true.
What a lovely post. It made me miss teaching.
Thanks, Barb. I’m hopeful that I’m years (4? 5?) away from retirement myself, so trying to really enjoy it in the moment now.
Sounds like you made a great career choice!
Your writings today, Robyn, have warmed the cockles of my heart.
Thanks so much, Ann.
Another wonderful essay. Glad we are friends.
Me, too, Betsey.
Loved this post, so echoed my memories. That first day, all promise. Teaching at a community college, which meant 5 classes with 45 students each at the beginning of the semester, it was harder to differentiate at the start, but I remember watching each class during their first in-class essay, and feeling such a wave of love for each and every one of them (whose names I now knew), wishing them the best, even though I knew that some would disappoint, and others I would worry I had failed. But again, in that moment, looking at them scribbling away...it was all promise and sometimes tears would actually come to me with the fierceness with which I wished them all the best.
Exactly, Louisa. I try to remind myself of this in week 7 or week 9, when we’re all at our low point. Each class is fleeting and precious and I’ll never get it back. Might as well enjoy it while we can.
“That’s what I believe, anyway. If you know someone intimately, you see them in their weakest moments. You see their vulnerabilities and their fears. You see, in other words, that they are very much like you. That might not make them your favorite person ever, but it makes hatred pretty difficult.”
Truth.
And that’s why we always want to divide and dehumanize. That’s why we call another group cockroaches, so it’s easier to hack them to death with machetes. Even if we’ve lived as neighbors for generations, and are joined through marriages but we belong to different groups, when we take away their humanity, it is so much easier to round them up and ethnically cleanse our part of the city by executing their men and boys, and raping their wives and daughters.
I see so many variations of “reThuglicans” and “DemonRats” even here on Substack. Divide and dehumanize. Some posts on Notes are like drive-by shootings dripping with hate. It’s some primitive evil deep inside us that we too often choose to give into. It is a choice to give into it. We can choose otherwise.
Robyn, I really appreciated this essay about how you see your students. To know them, even a little, is to love them, or like them, or be willing to go out of one’s comfort zone to tolerate them and maybe even to try to understand them.
Carry on. The world is a better place because of your attitude. Thank you.
Thanks so much. Here’s to less de-humanizing all around.
This is lovely and true. I'm appreciating back-to-school more this year. (Maybe because it started a week later than usual--haha)
I might be appreciating back-to-school more because after this semester, I’m on sabbatical!
First of all, I love that you have a real chalkboard! And I love the class where we come up with topics for our papers - so much fun when they realize that all ideas are acceptable and written on the board. Although it is a white board, not chalk. I love my students and become their cheerleader, encouraging them on to success. Of course, I am worlds away from anything near "full time", so that may make a difference! Teaching is such a meaningful endeavor. I'm happy for your students; to have a teacher who cares means the world.
All teachers should be cheerleaders. There’s a temptation sometimes to slip into teacher as cop—trying to patrol their behaviors and figure out when they’re cheating. I have to remind myself that in no universe did I ever sign up to be a cop. But a cheerleader? Yes, I can handle that.
This is my first fall not teaching in 20 years. You highlight what I like best about the first days. It's so fun piecing them together. I taught college comp at a high school, and the kids are so out there, even when they're reserved or even quiet.
My kids loved reading Gottlieb's book, which was a book club favorite. After writing her book, Gottlieb changed her views on online therapy some after Covid forced her into the practice. Here's the link to her opinion piece about it. (For some reason, I can't generate a gift article.) https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2020/05/18/surprising-intimacy-online-therapy-sessions-during-pandemic/?itid=sr_1_336e34b4-6827-4540-ac13-725ce8606d14
Cool, Bryce. Thanks for reading and thanks for the link. If I have to choose between no therapy at all and Zoom therapy, I’ll take Zoom therapy.
Yes! And reading between the lines, I think Gottlieb is saying the same thing.
loved this piece--and there's so much that I connect with, after 3 sessions with my own groups of first-year students. I particularly like what you say about the energy in the classroom, which I think about a lot. I've stopped making slides for my classes because it felt like all the energy in the room was going to the front (or to students' laptops . . .) and it's really shifted how I plan my teaching--instead of thinking about what I'm going to say, I have to focus on what students will do. it helps it feel like the energy is shared among us, rather than all going up to the front.
Glad this resonated with you, Nancy. Yes, I've contemplated using slides in my classes at various points over my teaching career. But I don't like how scripted they feel in a way that writing on the board isn't. Sure, you can skip a slide, but it feels like going off-script. I'd rather have as little in the way of a script as possible in the first place. If we go in an interesting direction I didn't anticipate, that's okay. Terrifying sometimes, but still okay.
I'm back on team plan-on-a-post-it-note and notes on the board, and it's going great!
Ooh, I like the plan on a post-it note idea. I’m on board for anything that involves the purchase of copious amounts of office supplies.
or, better yet—pilfering from the supply closet! (I started teaching in a very under-resourced public high school where we had to bring in our own copy paper, so the idea that there’s a closet with post-it notes and index cards in it for the taking still feels like a marvel to me, even at the decidedly unfancy public regional university where I teach now! ;) )