Whew! Aaah! The semester is over. I’m finished playing academic god. The very uneducational final grades are in. I’m tired; my eyes are bloodshot; my neck is stiff; my muscles ache, all from a week of pouring over the records of the semester-long performances of 180 students: issue papers, project participation, film watching, journals, communication logs, film study question answers, etc… Because background, outside influences, inside influences, struggle, learning from mistakes, process, and progress are the names in my games, I don’t play act at being an animated calculator. Over and over and over again I went back to notations I’ve made from journal entries, individual community project evaluations, comments on conversations I’ve had with students. A major part of those records are hard-copy, free-hand final evaluations: 180 self evaluations by the students; almost 800 evaluations of other members of students’ communities. Most students were honest. I could almost predict those who wouldn’t be. Some surprised me one way or another. Most, however, were not easy on their community members and harder on themselves, sometimes more insightful and more demanding than I would have been. Sometimes, I felt a need to go back and read portions from the nearly 14,000 individual journal entries. I’ve read of nasty parental divorce, parental pressure and ultimatum, serious family illness, major injury, major medical issues, boyfriend issues, insecurities, girlfriend issues, friend issues, marital relationships, job issues, trouble with the law, demands of sports, car accidents, demands of theater, demands of band, car breakdowns, robbery, naiveté, family pressures, peer pressures, lonliness, gender issues, racial issues, lack of self-confidence, sorority demands, demands of fraternity, sex, drugs, aloneness, alcohol, lack of discipline, pregnancy, lack of commitment, STD, roommate issues, financial pressures, home sickness, marriage, academic issues, children, extenuating circumstances, debilitating disease, abuse, –and even threats of suicide that sacred the hell out of me and led me to call in the counseling office and campus security. I don’t trivialize, dismiss, or ignored these pressures, distractions, burdens, and troubles each student feels. These hosts of slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are real to these mostly very young and inexperienced-in-life students. Other than a few “non-traditional” students, they’re kids, not adults. So, I honor each of them. But I have to figure out how each fits into the mix of things. I’m not one of those “the grades made me do it” or “that’s what the computer said” kind of guy. Sometimes I wish I was; it would be so much simpler and easier to give quizzes and tests, percentage out everything, add, divide, multiple, and let the numbers do my walking. But, that’s not me, my vision, my sense of purpose, or my philosophy of education. As I compress it all into that single letter, I struggle; I agonize; I curse; I consider; I cry; I snarl; I laugh; I weigh; I bite my lip; I stop, lean back, close my eyes, and think; I gnash my teeth; I sigh; I smile; I adjust; I reject; I accept; I have a glass of wine; I demand; I plead a “Please.” I woefully utter a “Damn;” I exclaim a “Yes!”
While I humanize this process and season it heavily with the spices of empathy and love, and while I don’t expect perfection, I’m far from being a push over. While I introduce a lot of fun in the learning process, I define “fun” as the opposite of “boredom,” not the opposite of work. While I am a loving empath, I practice a lot of tough love. Lots of tough love!! I hold their feet to the fire; I don’t easily or quickly leave them off the hook. Except for extenuating circumstances, I brook few “I apologize” excuses, “I’m not used to” justifications, “I’m sorry” explanations, and “I tried” rationalizations. Yoda’s words are always ringing in my ears: “Try not. Do. Or, do not. There is no try.” The students knew what was expected of them; they knew they had the “A” from the first day of class; they knew what they had to do to keep that “A;” they knew that from my constant “sermonizing” to the entire class throughout the semester; they knew that as I got in their individual faces; they knew that from my constant replies to individual journal entries: give it everything you’ve got, however challenging it might be; do whatever it takes, however inconvenient and uncomfortable, to do what you had to do. I would be of little service to them if I required any less.
Now, there’s a batch of180 evaluations I save for last. In fact, I don’t read them until I’ve entered and locked-in the grades. They’re hard-copy, free-hand evaluations of me, my performance, the structure and operations of the class, as well as suggestions for modifications, deletions, additions of class “stuff.” These are critical, for virtually everything that goes on and does not go one in class is the result of student recommendations. As I read these, I realize once more that when we think of teaching as loving, caring, creating, and adventuring, we are all functioning at a small fraction of our capacity that would allow teaching to be one of the most adventuresome experiences of our lives. That’s not touchy-feely new age stuff; that’s a firm commitment based on reason. It is because of truly caring, of living it rather than being satisfied with merely saying it, that you develop a responsibility to help each student help her/himself become the person she or he is capable of becoming. When your feelings, thoughts, and actions are guided by an unconditional caring in your heart for each and every student, when you live right inside that caring rather than admiring it from afar, when your soul is dyed with that caring, when everybody is in your eyes a somebody, when you extend to each student all the care and kindness and empathy and love you can muster–no matter how trivial the contact, no matter how small the kindness, and do it with no thought of any reward or recognition–you will never be the same again. Teaching from the heart is teaching of the heart. Do that to your fullest and you will experience the most beautiful compensation in teaching that no salary or title can match–and no economic downturn can reduce.
I’ll read these evaluations of me a couple of times before fall semester begins. But, for now, I’m packed and in a few hours I’ll be out of here for a month of teaching in China. Have a happy summer.
Louis