By Katie Stobbart (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: February 26, 2014
I imagine every teacher’s secret fantasy is to walk into a classroom full of awake and aware students who have all completed the class readings and are ready to receive the pearls of wisdom soon to be imparted. The whiteboard markers will work, students will sit in contemplative silence while the professor speaks, and then a spirited discussion on the class topic will emerge as the students engage with their classmates.
I would love to see this too, but to do so I would have to invent an inter-dimensional travel device — kind of like a portkey that would take us all into a world in which that dream is even remotely possible.
Every student at some point — or many points — will fall behind in the assigned readings, will not engage with the material of a particular course, or would rather jump out a window than put up his or her hand. It’s just one of those things.
However, sometimes students are so regularly disengaged I find myself wondering: why are you even here? Granted, not every required course is everyone’s flavour of pudding, but I understand professors’ frustrations when a large portion of the class is consistently mute. Poking and prodding to stimulate discussion is not enjoyable or productive for anyone.
There are a number of teaching strategies developed to cope with these issues and even though I can see the reasons for them, there is one that drives me crazy.
Throughout elementary and middle school, my teachers would always seat me between two “troublemakers” to separate them. As annoying as it was to me at the time, I can certainly understand how such a strategy contributes to classroom order.
However, it appears the same idea has carried over into university. No, we aren’t usually assigned seats anymore, but students are often put into groups. As much as I would love to pick the people I work with, I know that is not always how life works.
What bothers me is when professors pointedly separate engaged students among pods of people who have hardly opened their mouths since day one of class. Normally I find myself stuck in a group of four or five students who haven’t done the readings and I end up carrying the load for a 10 to 15 minute “discussion.”
Here’s how it usually goes:
1. I give a five-minute recap of the readings.
2. I reluctantly give my thoughts on the readings or answer the assigned discussion questions, because I know it will affect my grade if I don’t.
3. We sit in awkward silence.
4. Sometimes the professor comes by to ask how we’re doing with the discussion. A cricket chirps. Then one of two things happens — either someone else in the group parrots my response, or I answer while my group-mates pretend they are invisible.
5. After the professor moves on to the next group, there is a lively discussion about [insert banal, unrelated topic here].
This process helps no one. It doesn’t help the engaged student, who gets little to no opportunity to exchange ideas. It also doesn’t help the disengaged student — is he or she really learning by getting the answers without putting in the work?
I’m not perfect. I’m not always fully awake in class. Sometimes I drop the ball with readings. I miss a few classes here and there, and there are some times when I put the effort in and I still don’t get it. But for the most part (and after several hard lessons) I endeavour to be present and engaged.
I guess in the end, it’s not the actual teaching strategy I have an issue with — it’s the fact that, in university, with a class full of adults, this is even necessary.
I truly admire the spirit of Justin Wadsworth, the Canadian coach who helped Anton Gafarov, a Russian skier, when he broke one of his skis. But Wadsworth didn’t hold Gafarov’s hand and guide him down the hill. He helped him out while he was struggling; by giving him a new ski, he was saying, keep going.
I understand teachers want to help their students be successful — especially those who are making the effort but have perhaps broken their skis (e.g., did the wrong reading, is going through a rough time, or is having trouble making something click), but using one strong student to “carry the others” only inhibits students instead of setting them up to head for the finish line. If someone isn’t putting in the effort, I shouldn’t have to hold their hand.
In my secret fantasy, all the people who at least try to keep up with the coursework are sorted into one group, and everyone else gets a rude awakening: Put your skis on before you come to the race.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that fantasy is any closer to reality.
