What We Teachers Worry About

Those of you who read Faculty Focus probably saw the following list in a recent posting. It categorizes the concerns expressed by new teachers, listed from most to least important. 

• Exhibiting command of the material (being able to answer student questions, give relevant examples)
• Balancing "teacherly" authority and student rapport
• Dealing with communication anxiety (public speaking)
• Engaging rather than boring students
• Managing students’ perceptions of teacher
• Juggling roles (teaching, research, service, life)
• Resolving grade complexities
• Being memorable
• Negotiating flexibility in policies, assignments
• Overcoming cultural differences between teacher and students

I was struck, when I read through this “top 10” list how little I worried about some of the issues but how much some of the others, after all my many years of teaching, still cause the occasional sleepless night.  I don’t spend much time anymore thinking about authority vs. rapport, for instance; my comfort level there developed over the years, as did my comfort level with student perceptions of me, whatever they may be.  Similarly, being appropriately--but not too--flexible in my demands and being able to resolve student grade protests do not cause me much concern any more; one learns from experience, I guess.  

On the other hand, despite my experience I still find myself struggling with how to get my tired, busy, adult students focused and engaged, and with each new  semester I still experience nagging doubts that I have prepared enough to show that I’m up to date and in command of new scholarship.

One item I would add to the list, that I never used to worry about, is just what my role in any given class period should be.  Am I  still, too often, being that sage on the stage even if I am standing off to the side and talking about material on students' computer screens?  Did I prepare enough material to keep the learning going?  Too much?  The wrong sort?

I’d be interested in hearing--wherever you might be in your teaching career trajectory--what worries you the most as you strive to be successful in your chosen profession. Or what you don't worry about at all.

When Your To-Do List Is Longer Than Your Day

While struggling with the minutiae of daily professorial life—writing those minutes from yesterday’s committee meeting, grading the last few student assignments before class, preparing for the umpteenth meeting of the week, checking lesson plans to make sure they have the right mix of activities, responding to online discussion postings so as to let students know I am reading and valuing their ideas, [fill in your own overwhelming list]—I was struck by the seemingly simple message from Kerry Ann Rockquemore, President of the National Center for Faculty Development & Diversity: Pay Yourself First.

She acknowledges our need to be super teacher, super researcher, super colleague, super public intellectual, super institutional change agent, etc., pointing out, however, that these needs tend to conflict and overwhelm, and reminding us of the importance of clarifying our long-term goals and then setting aside the time to work towards them.  We need to “pay ourselves first,” finding the time to work on our own personal goals amidst all the demands of others. 

For instance, if tenure or promotion is your main long-term goal, then publications can’t keep being pushed aside by all the short-term demands of the day.  Rockquemore suggests starting every day with 30 minutes of writing, reserving that time before even looking at the day’s to-do list. 

Easier said than done, right?  But I would be interested in knowing what tricks you have developed for working on your long-term projects.  Any good time management tips you can share?

Finding a Balance

Guest Blogger:  William Donohue

As I sit in my office, on a beautiful autumn afternoon, writing this blog, I have a moment of calm to what has been a chaotic week—both professionally and personally, some my doing, others beyond my control. This has not been a typical week (is there such a thing?), but a few times every semester there is a perfect storm of so much going on that I can’t catch my breath.

The question that I want to ask, and that I look forward to reading about in the comments, is how do others find balance in their lives during the sprint that is a semester of teaching? How do people in The Lincoln University Community find motivation to keep going?

To illuminate my week, here are some snippets:

 Monday, 8:45 a.m.: The power to University Hall mercifully comes back on as I am setting up for the first of 28 student conferences of the day and preparing a backup plan to take written notes that I can transcribe to the computer later.

Sunday, 7:30 a.m.: After making coffee and tuning in to WXPN, I take a draft to read from the pile of the 150 drafts (2 per ENG 099 student) that I will discuss with students in their one-on-one conference.

Monday, 11:15 a.m.: Power goes back out; I hope that I saved the Excel document with the notes about individual student issues taken during the morning conferences.

Tuesday, 4:30 a.m.: My 15-week-old son, Sawyer, the first child for my wife and me, decides it is time to get up and start the day.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, around midnight: I fall asleep reading a student draft and decide that it is time to go to bed

Tuesday, 12:30 p.m.: I am halfway through the student conferences and although I have explained “run on sentences” in most of them, showing each student seems to help them understand.

Thursday, 7:30 p.m.: A device called “The Snot Sucker” is put to use on Sawyer’s nose while my wife holds him and I suck.

Friday, 9:06 a.m.: I find most of my students it the library after they followed a handwritten note taped to the classroom door saying “Class Is Meeting At The Library ACC. Information System Ask Help Desk For Direction.” I lead them back to our classroom, and we discuss revision.

Monday, 3:08 p.m.: “Cherish life,” says a student in my ENG 102 class.

Monday, 3:07 p.m.: I ask the question, “In the play Our Town, what does Emily’s ghost mean when she says ‘They don’t—understand—do they?’

Wednesday, 1:10 p.m.: I can see the light at the end of student conference tunnel and I am exhausted. But I am reminded of the words of the great composition teacher Donald Murray, who wrote of writing conferences, “I am tired, but it is a good tired, for my students have generated energy as well as absorbed it.”

Wednesday, 4:15 p.m.: While watching the end of a documentary titled OT:Our Town about students from Dominguez High School in Compton, CA, who put on the school’s first play in 20 years, I tear up a little when the student playing Emily says, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it—every, every minute.”

Tuesday, 5:45 a.m.: Sawyer falls back asleep with his head on my shoulder.