Take a Risk

I’ve pretty much gotten to the point in my life that I consider life itself a crapshoot.  I was once t-boned on Interstate 95 heading for Boston.  The driver behind me went down into the median and came flying back up to broadside me on the driver’s side while I was traveling 65 mph.  I survived. 

I was once flying my own plane in Wisconsin when the engine lost power on climb out.  I kept my wits about me and rectified the situation.  I survived. 

I was on a commercial night flight when the plane I was riding in lost power.  Again, I survived.  I call these “one-second life-changing experiences.”  Our lives are filled with them.  Living life is risky.

In our day-to-day living, however, there are things we can do to mitigate the risks of living.  Wear your seatbelt.  Turn on your headlights during the day.  Eat healthy foods.  Don’t smoke.  Don’t carry too much weight.  Don’t drink to excess.  Don’t attempt double-black diamond ski trails when you are clearly an intermediate skier.  Of course, there are no guarantees that doing these things will see you into your ninth decade, but you’re simply playing the odds and stacking the deck in your favor.

But there are times in your professional life, when you need to take risks.  Without risks in one’s life, there cannot be growth.  I’m not talking about foolish risks that put you way over your head, but small incremental risks that allow you explore new professional avenues.  Here are a few examples.

The easiest and most risk free way of teaching, in my mind, is to do your homework and put all of your lectures and presentations on PowerPoint.  You can stand in front of your classes and blather on nonstop until you run out of slides or time.  While PowerPoint is a cool presentation tool, most faculties simply put up slide after slide, ad naseum.  Or worse yet, every slide uses a different transition mode so your viewers never know what’s going to hit them.  One time it’s a fade.  The next time it’s a flip.  On to the dissolve for the third slide.  On and on it goes.  When coupled with a plethora of print information, you’re sure to numb your audience.  But, no one can fault you for not being prepared.  Instead of doing the PowerPoint lecture lobotomy, though, use your slides to pose some provocative questions.  Instead of lecturing, you’ve turned your class into an inquiry-based hour of probing and questioning, something that’s bound to create much more engagement on the part of your students.  What’s the worst that can happen when you take this kind of risk?  The hour could turn out to be a “plop.”  Not a failure, just a “plop.”  We all have an occasional “plop.”  While things maybe didn’t go exactly as you planned, at least you took a risk…and it wasn’t life threatening.  Moreover, the upside for growth is great. 

Here’s another risk scenario.  You’ve been asked to serve on some local or State professional committee.  It means giving of your already valuable time.  Perhaps time away from your kids and family.  The easy alternative is to say “no” to this invitation.  The upside, however, is that by taking this risk, you may meet some interesting people, gain some additional knowledge that you’ll be able to weave into your courses, or make some connections that have nothing to do with the intention of the committee.  You took a risk.  There was an unexpected reward.  Nothing ventured; nothing gained.

Here’s a final risk scenario.  Your local textbook representative has been encouraging you to try your hand at writing a textbook.  You’ve declined because you know nothing about the publishing business.  You wouldn’t know a textbook prospectus if it fell from the sky and hit you on the head.  Here’s an opportunity to broaden your publishing career.  The time invested in creating a prospectus, examining the competition, and working with an editor may lead to a contract.  If it does, be prepared to commit the next two to three years of your life to nourishing this creation.  Just like conceiving children, there are risks, but there area also rewards.  Again, these aren’t life-threatening risks. 

I hope I’ve convinced you to take some risks in your professional life.  The payoff is certainly worth it.  And, while you’re at it, take some additional risks in your personal life.  Start to eat better.  Go to the gym a couple of times per week.  Learn to play the piano.  You’ll be happy you took a risk.  You’ll be a more interesting person because of it.

Some Cardinal Rules of Teaching

1.     Be Organized.

If you want to impress your class, show up the first day of class with an outline that is comprehensive but not overwhelming.  I’ve seen faculty members show up on Day 1 with twenty-page outlines.  In my mind, this is overkill.  You’re not going to impress them.  If you need twenty pages to keep on track, fine.  But, don’t put his burden on your students.  On the other hand, I’ve also witnessed two-page course outlines that are so generalized; they are seldom worth the paper they’re printed on.  Somewhere between these two extremes, there’s a happy medium.  Think of your syllabus as a road map to get your students where they need to go. Maps usually provide multiple ways to get to your destination.  Just like your automobile GPS, you sometimes need to make adjustments in your journey.  So, too, is it with course outlines.

2.     Undergraduates Are Not Ph.D. Candidates. 

Being a freshly minted Ph.D. usually means you’ve come out of two or more years of intensive academic work.  You’re like a well-conditioned athlete…mentally ready to take on almost any academic challenge.  For most undergrads, their biggest mental challenge of the day is to wake up, get to the snack bar and find a hot cup of coffee.  In my mind, most of them are intellectually flabby.  You need to get them warmed up before you can start your conditioning program! Move slowly but firmly ahead.  A boot camp approach won’t impress them; only alienate them.

3.     Graduate Students. 

I remember my first graduate Reading Research class.  Fresh from my Ph.D. program, I was required to have a comprehensive knowledge of the past ten years of Reading research.  At the time, the Reading Research Quarterly published a yearly edition that summarized the major research investigations of the year.  I could cite study details that would bore individuals to death.  This knowledge was the expectation of my professors who composed my preliminary exams.  When I arrived on campus for my first teaching job, I thought it would be a good idea if my students also possessed the same knowledge.  While I wouldn’t call my class’s reaction a mutiny, I would say they were shocked and overwhelmed.  I had failed to realize that these people were full-time teachers coming back to take one course per semester.  They didn’t have the luxury of being full-time students.  I rapidly needed to adjust my student expectations.

4.     Be Willing to Negotiate With Your Students. 

I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve had to negotiate with my classes.  Even the most well laid plans can become unglued due to circumstances beyond one’s control.  Last year, for example, we had numerous campus closures due to freak snowstorms.  I had to readjust my student expectations.  At times like that, I like to involve my students in the decision-making.  They are more willing to work toward common goals when they have some buy in.  Besides, it’s fun to see how their minds work when faced with tough decision-making choices.

5.     Cover Your A__.

After almost 40 years of teaching, I’m happy to report I’ve met some of the most interesting and exciting people I’ve ever met while I’ve been standing in front of my classroom.  I still get cards and letters from individuals who’ve told me I’ve changed their lives.  The kudos are a real ego trip.  In that same time period, though, I’ve had two students who have made life miserable for me.  In both cases, I’m glad that I’ve kept all paperwork involved in disputes.  In one case, a student came back several years after I had her as a student.  When she was in my class, I bent over backwards helping her deal with some personal issues.  (Now that I think about it, the same was true for the second student.)  Imagine my surprise when I saw a sheriff at my office door issuing me a summons to appear in court.  It seems that the student had lost her teaching job and was now attempting to make me the scapegoat.  Thank goodness for a good college lawyer and my thorough job of record keeping and documenting everything.  Never in a million years did I think that something like this could happen to me.  When you consider the fact that some mental health experts contend that roughly 20% of the adult population suffers from some type of mental imbalance, I shouldn’t have been surprised.  The lessons:  a) Always CYA, b) let no good deed go unpunished.  I suppose two out of almost 10,000 students isn’t a bad batting average, though. 

6.     It’s Not Just Knowledge…It’s Attitude, Too.

One of my old colleagues and I used to spend many late afternoons in each other’s office discussing the ultimate goals of teaching and learning.  They were heady conversations where we picked and probed each other’s thinking.  In the end, we concluded that it wasn’t just about the content we intended to impart.  As important, if not more so, was the attitudes we wanted our students to develop.  He was a Math professor; I was a Reading prof.  In both cases, though, we wanted our students to feel good about what they had learned and we hoped that after taking our courses, they would continue to embark on the journey of learning our respective disciplines.  In the end, it’s all about the journey and not about the destination.

Do-Nothing Professors

If you think I’m frustrated, you’re right.  Year after year, I’ve witnessed a plethora of strategies that I’ve found professors employ to keep the status quo.  But, it’s not just professors who use these strategies.  Classroom teachers use the same techniques.  And, while I’ve not had an opportunity to work extensively in the business sector, I’m sure these same foot-dragger, do-nothing types exist in that environment, too.  So, we in higher education don’t have a corner on the market.  Let’s make this into a game.  The next time you’re in a committee meeting, see how many of the following types pop up.  Then, send me a comment on this blog.  Maybe you can provide all of us with some new insights on how to spot these individuals. 

The Passive Aggressive Type

Also know as “The Get Even” professor.  They sit passively during department or committee meetings but are silently brooding and seething.  They seemingly go along with the majority but then attempt to undermine agreed upon protocols by not adopting majority positions, purposely failing to become part of the team effort, or breed hostility through conversations with other faculty members.

The Silent Type

This is the professorial version of the students who adopt the “do not make eye contact with the professor” type.  They sit silently in meetings, offering neither positive nor negative comments on the points being discussed.  Their primary goal is to add another item to their vita.  When it’s time for promotion, they are able to submit a long list of committee assignments.  They take the position that it’s quantity of work, not quality.  Sometimes they can be spotted sitting in meetings nodding approvingly at the most inappropriate times. 

The My Feelings are Hurt Type

When backed into a corner, you can expect this individual to use the compassion ploy.  Woe is me.  Look at me.  I give my all and I still can’t please anyone.  Now I’m taking this attack personally and my feelings are hurt.  How could you personally attack what I stand for?  The truth be told, this individual stands for no one except his or her self.  When they are finally exposed, they play the sympathy card.    

The Huffer and Puffer Type

Easy to spot.  When threatened, they sit up straight in their chair and reach down for their loudest voice.  Like a steam pot, once the steam starts to percolate out, it can’t be shut down.  The longer they percolate, the less rational they become.  It’s not unusual for their thinking to swing 180 degrees in the course of their diatribes.  They sometimes become so enamored with their own pontifications that they frequently miss many good opportunities to sit down and be quiet.  And, once unleashed, they are almost impossible to settle down.

The I’m Dr. Kindhearted Type

Easy to spot.  Whenever there is a trajedy, illness, or some other type of misfortune, this person jumps to the forefront waving a flag as the angelic martyr who will comfort the afflicted.  “Bless his soul,”  “my heart goes out to her family,” or “let our prayers be with him” are the clichéd phrases they repeat or post in e-mails.  By putting on a compassionate air, they redeem their daily bad behavior of working against group goals.  Or, they absolve themselves of badly treating their students or doing other unethical or underhanded behavior.

The This Too Will Pass Type

Easy to spot characters who have attained senior status and are at the end of their careers.  They sit passively on the sidelines with a smirk on their face as if they are above the fray.  They adopt the attitude of “if only all of you were as brilliant as I, you wouldn’t feel so passionate about this issue.”  Aloof, they can usually be found occupying the back rows of discussion groups. 

The I’m So Overworked Type

Frequently seen running down the halls with papers dropping at random from the piles they have clasped under their arms.  Another dead giveaway is that this type sits in meetings with their calendars open before them, scribbling notes in boxes representing days of the month.  The modern day counterpart is the professor who sits with their smart phones punching in appointments and other data like “Stop for groceries” or “Yoga on Thursday.” 

If you’re as frustrated as I am by these types of individuals, my suggestion is to go for a long walk, go to the gym, or write about them.  I know I’m feeling better now that I’ve got these creeps out of my system.

Rate My Professor

RATE MY PROFESSOR

I just got my first bad review on the website Rate My Professor.  But, before I want to contest that rating, I have a few other observations about WWW.RateMyProfessor.com. 

When I was an undergraduate student…back in the stone age…we didn’t have the luxury of sitting with our computers or smart phones and seeing what our peers had to say about a professor in whose class we were about to enroll.  Instead, a group of us would sit around a table in our student union and throw out instructor’s names.  Then there would be give-and-take about who to avoid like the plague, who’s class you wanted to take, and all of the other “dirt” you would need to know.  In retrospect, there was a lot more quality in the “reviews” than what you see now posted on the computer.  To me, it’s analogous to having a face-to-face discussion with a friend versus sending that same person an e-mail.  The e-mail gives you a lot of “surface structure” but not much “deep structure.”  At least, that’s how the sociolinguists would describe it.

While I don’t have any data to support this, it seems to me the bulk of RMP reviews are done by undergraduates.  If this is true, you stand a much better chance of being rated by your students than if you teach graduate courses.  Again, this is only speculation on my part, but I think the undergraduate/graduate ratio is probably close to 8:1.  Again, this is only my best guess.  It could even be higher.  Maybe it’s closer to a 20:1 ratio.  The reason that I even bring this up is because I don’t know many graduate students who think of their professors as “hot”, one of the scoring options on RMP.  Undergrads are driven by hormones.  Most graduate students have their hormonal needs already met.  Or, maybe it’s just sour grapes.  I’ve never had a student rate me as “hot” (although my wife frequently rates me as “hot”…especially when I make a great dinner for her!).

So, how accurate are the RMP reviews?  Again, I don’t have any hard data to support my belief that I think they’re pretty accurate.  By accurate, I mean accurate at the extreme ends of the scale.  If you continually get stellar reviews, you’re probably a damn good teacher.  If, on the other hand, you get comments like “the worst teacher I’ve ever had,” you had better look good and hard at yourself in the mirror.  Something is wrong and your students deserve better.  For the bulk of professors, we probably fall somewhere between these two extremes and that’s where any type of teacher-rating system is tricky to interpret.  An example of how one organization is trying to get around this rating dilemma is the teacher evaluation system being pushed by the Rhode Island Department of Education.  If you do a lot of work in schools and have seen a lot of teachers, it takes one only a matter of minutes by doing a walkthrough to determine who the good versus bad teachers happen to be.  RIDE, however, in its attempt to quantify these data, is implementing a system where every teacher in the building gets a series of thorough…if not mind-numbing…evaluations.  The system is so cumbersome that it is destined to collapse under its own weight and it will certainly be unsustainable in its present form.  Why do it?  Simply to identify the poorest teachers in a building.  (As if the principal didn’t already know who these individuals are.)  If RMP was interested in objectifying their data, they could follow RIDE’s lead. 

Which brings me to my original comment about my negative review.  It was easy for me to determine the student that supplied the rating.  I only had one person drop from my roster last year.   It was an interesting case.  Of a graduate class of 30, she was easily the weakest.  On virtually all of the multiple measures I use to evaluate students, she ranked near the bottom on all.  She never participated in class discussions.  What most worried me, however were her abysmal writing skills.  My philosophy regarding writing is that we are all amateurs practicing our craft and there’s room for improving on all party’s part…if we are willing to work on it.  In this student’s case, the skills were well below even the lowest benchmarks.  In a profession where being able to write clearly is paramount, in good conscience, she and I needed to sit down and work out a plan where her writing had a chance.  I made this offer…agreeing to work with her at her convenience.  My offer was rebuffed.  She also needed to be excused from several class sessions due to a medical procedure.  I have always had, and continue to have, a policy of trusting students in these instances.  I never ask for a doctor’s excuse.  Medical issues are sometimes sensitive and it’s frankly none of my business as to why a student needs to be treated.  So, to make a long story short, I tried to bend over backwards to help this individual.  In the end, however, she still wasn’t cutting it.  As I recall, I may have counseled her to drop the course, take care of her medical issues, I would work with her on her writing, and she could re-enroll the following year.  As I later learned…after reading her review…this isn’t what she expected.  Instead, she lambasted me and made me look like a heartless egotist.  That night, after reading her review, I had trouble sleeping, thinking about what she had said.  I couldn’t let her skewed view of the world and my professionalism go unanswered.  I logged on to RMP and requested a chance to rebut her rating.  Suprisingly, several days later, I saw that her review had been taken down.  I’m not sure what prompted this action, but I felt vindicated.  My point in belaboring all of this, is that there are times, when reviews are more a matter of perception than truth.  Therein lies the weakness of the RMP system.  It’s a good thing to keep in mind.  I suppose we all need to remember that it’s not a perfect world out there…especially in the world of higher education and specifically what students expect from professors and professors from students.

February 4, 2012  

The Most Important Choice in Your Career

THE MOST IMPORTANT CHOICE IN YOUR CAREER

 The professorship is one of the few jobs left in America where you are largely your own boss.  Certainly, there are departmental and institutional rules and regulations, but, for the most part, you are fee to do as you please as long as you don’t violate the taboos of the profession.  You are free to design your own courses.  You can choose committees on which you want to serve.  You can establish your own consulting contracts.  You can write as much or as little as you choose.  Your office hours are flexible.  Even your teaching schedule can be manipulated to serve your own needs.  Your students are totally under your domain.  There’s no obligation to show a financial profit from your endeavors.  And, once you are tenured, you are basically protected from unreasonable termination.  As I once heard it described, it’s the last good job in America. 

Over my professional lifetime, there have been some changes to the profession but they are relatively minor.  National accreditation, for example, has imposed a loose organizational structure over programs, regardless if you’re engineering or an educational professor.  But these restrictions are relatively minor.  And, a shrinking pool of students has required institutions to be more pro-student than they once were.  Basically, however, the professorship marches on, much as it has always done.  While our attire has changed from black cloaks and robes to blue jeans and turtlenecks, the job demands remain unchanged.   

As I look back on my interactions with faculty members from the past quarter century, I would categorize these faculty as one of two type of individuals.  There are those who see their mission as one to promote the welfare of their chosen profession and there are those who see the profession as a way manipulate situations to better their own situation in life.  Both can be powerful means of achieving their personal goals. 

The first group is those individuals who have an altruistic bent to their thinking and living.  They see the their goal as advancing the knowledge base of their profession.  In my discipline, Reading Education, these professors attempt to get their students to be critical consumers of a plethora of research on what constitutes the most effective ways to teach reading.  They teach their students strategies and techniques to impart those procedures.  More often than not, they work side-by-side with their students as they seek to gain knowledge and impart wisdom to their younger charges.  There is a high degree of collaboration.  They listen to what their students have to say.  There may be times when the professor doesn’t have all the answers, but they willingly acknowledge that fact and collaboratively seek to resolve unanswered questions or complex issues. 

The second group of professors is those that have learned to manipulate the system for their personal benefit and welfare.  One of the most blatant examples of this existed when I first arrived on campus many years ago.  There was a faculty member who no longer wanted to teach but still wanted to collect a paycheck.  Once she got her teaching assignments, she would attempt to subcontract her courses to an outside instructor who she would pay a paltry amount, pocketing the balance in her own account and traveling around the US on her time off.  Obviously, this couldn’t happen in today’s environment but I think you see my point.

Today’s professors are much craftier.  They finagle teaching loads that employ strategies that allow them to teach the same content in two or more entirely different courses.  Less prep for them.  Or, they construct their teaching schedule so they only have to be on campus a minimum number of days.  (And, I do mean MINIMUM!)  Or better yet, with on-line learning, they never have to come to campus.  It’s a virtual world out there, baby.  Let someone else deal with student issues that require face-to-face contact. 

Then there are those individuals who have been teaching the same content for decade after decade.  I know at least two individuals who never changed their course content for their entire careers.  If you examined their course outlines, the only things that substantially changed were the dates of the lectures!  I know, because I’ve seen them.  That’s what I call the advancement of knowledge! 

The most infuriating professors in my mind are those that put on an outward persona of caring for students and others but their actions give away their true intentions.  They are using the system for their own personal gains.  They are master manipulators and have learned the strategies of stonewalling and hiding behind union protection.  When everything else is stripped away, their overall modus operandi is one thing…greed.

Which brings me to my last point.  These same two types of individuals exist in the world outside of education, too.  We, in higher education, don’t’ have a corner on the market.  Over the years, I’ve tried to make a study of human behavior and motivation.  There are those who leave the earth making it a better place and those that are busy grabbing and snatching everything they can for themselves.  In her book, The Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin describes both types.  The former have a much greater chance of finding happiness in their lives.  The latter group is never happy, because there is always so much more to be had.  As a young professor, the decisions and choices you make on a daily basis will put you into one of these two camps.  It’s up to you to decide what type of person you want to be.

February 2, 2012