It was such a busy day… I wanted to start writing about this day on my drive home, but the kids needed me, and I was simply overwhelmed with everything else that was going on that week.
There was a big classroom hullabaloo–I really did not want to be in the SOC building, so I asked if can switch to the lab. Dr. Dedrick sent me his blessing on Sunday to email everyone and tell that we will meet in the Lab, and then Todd emailed me Monday to say Dr. Ferron is teaching in the lab on Tuesdays. What am I to do? I asked if I can do iTeach on Tuesdays and Lab on Thursdays, and luckily it was OKayed quickly. Then the Syllabus… I had a version that Leia gave me, but with no access to her last year’s Canvas class, some of the assignments looked completely foreign. I had no idea what they meant, and so I have been pouring over my own document inventing and thinking about the things we can do in class. Of course in my head, every student is just as excited about research as I am. I know they will be ready for debates, critical thinkers ready to receive my own revelations about what research was for me when I started and what it became for me. Of course, I know that if I ask them a question, they will all raise their hands at once and fight over who gets to answer first. There will be debates, contentious topics to discuss. At the end of the semester, we will all emerge as independent scholars.
I looked at the roster and panicked–they are from all over the University! What do I know about biomedical research? Nothing! What do I know about public health? Or engineering? Or architecture? Nothing! How will I bring them to my turf–social sciences and even more specifically, education? Leia made me feel a little better when we met–it has not been an issue.
It is funny to be there, upfront, in the instructor’s spot… The experience was not entirely unfamiliar–I have presented so many times as a student by now, thanks to my professors who made it group presentations a norm. I stood there, in iTeach, almost at home as being there behind the podium reminded me of the times I made my presentation in Ilene and Michael’s class. The same thing happened in the Lab on Thursday–it felt like it was just another Measurement class. I think it was brilliant of me to insist on switching rooms even if I did so unaware of this reason–my own comfort with the environment due to familiarity with physical space. These classrooms are not just classrooms–they are spaces with memories that live somewhere on the sensory plane–I do not clearly remember what I presented or even how I felt about my own work, but I remember the proximity of walls, the light, the projector, and the computer… In the Lab, I can see in the back the familiar green cabinets. I know what’s stored inside–ghosts of statistics books from 20+ years ago!) There are some loose articles, antiquated office supplies, clutter, abandoned personal artifacts of numerous GAs who kept watch in the lab for countless semesters before me. I draw confidence from knowing all this–these are my walls, my people, my department. I am the ambassador, the product of MY professors’ investment in my academic and intellectual growth. This is MY TURF.
I think I accidentally solved the problem of student diversity that bothered me on Monday by PHYSICALLY bringing my diverse group of students on my turf–the College of Education.
…As far as spaces go, I like iTeach better because it is so much cozier–the lights and the room layout, and furniture…. but it is not even about whether I like the space. Again, it is just that it is familiar. I remember both rooms as safe and supportive learning environments where I was nervous and on the spot (being evaluated), but responsibility and stakes were low–I never had more than 4 people in my group, and so not letting them down was my main source of anxiety. Here I am trying not to let down (i.e. bore to death by lecturing or making everyone confused with my spontaneity) 15-19 people. The upgrade is manageable.
Mt students are not exactly what I imagined–they are not all that engaged and eager–introductions were met with much less enthusiasm than going over the syllabus. But they are not apathetic, either. I wonder what is going through their heads–they definitely look alert, and no one is distracted or openly on the phone. They are probably trying to figure me out (much like I tried to figure out my professors). No doubt, by now, they all have been sufficiently disciplined into the culture of college learning, at least its universally accepted routines and subjectification: assignments, tests, expectations, projects, readings, performances. Although, I must not assume–I probably offended someone when I said, “I am a student, too, so I know what we students sometimes try to get away with if necessary.” This was not fair. I implied that I expect them to cheat. This is the very reason why when after the second class a (older) student stopped by to chat with me (another good sign, I think) she said “Professor,” and when I objected, she took slightly scolded me and reminded me that her refusal to call me Anna is a sign of her respect and that I earned the title (God, was I THAT self-deprecating? I do not think I was). She also suggested that the rest of the students are “babies” and will probably benefit from structure. I agree to a point–I could definitely be more consistent and should take care to articulate expectations. Nevertheless, this kind of feedback was exactly what I hope for. I considered explaining my philosophy on academic status and titles–a title signals an achievement. To me, learning has not been about achievement or performance (only sometimes, perhaps because of the testing and conditioning with grades). Learning is my natural state, a way to satisfy my appetite for intellectual stimulation. It is not modesty–false or authentic. It is not the absence of care because I deeply care about my growth. Learning is an ontology. It is a way to be. In fact, I am not learning, I am becoming with who I meet, speak with, what I read, eat, and, and. Although I will not hesitate to flaunt my Doctoral Candidate status if someone tries to bully me into submission or attacks my intelligence, I really, REALLY do not care if I am called Anna or professor (or Dr. Gonzalez going forward). It is definitely not a stance. It is a philosophy. …but my student cares, and I have to respect that. Now I do, actually. Because it is not about me–I know where I stand–it is about her. At the same time, I want to be careful not to give my sense of agency too much oxygen because it will force me into assuming, power struggles, and if I let it go too far, self-righteousness.
I am starting to really understand what Jenni meant when she said things that I disagreed with… the comment she left on my final paper for the Design class–the one where she contemplated her own position as the one who must grade and evaluate my work and laid the mother’s curse on me (Wait ’till you teach!). This one came sooner than I thought. I get it. I am embarrassed about all the things I said to Lili, Janet, Jenni…
I forgot to take attendance on the second day, too. So I followed up with a blanket email requesting everyone replies if they want to stay in class. One of the new students who registered after Tuesday said yes and added, “awesome lecture today!” (We talked about “What is research?”), and it was so gratifying!
These students are incredibly bright, curious, full of all kinds of becomings. I cannot treat them like kids. I cannot be afraid that things I say and make them think about are somehow below their undergrad “level.” They can and should make sense of difficult topics and controversies in any way they can–it is the only way. I can show them the ropes of what I so far had learned on my way to graduation, but they will have to figure out what any of this means.
During Thursday’s what I envisioned as an engaged class discussion about what is research, but ended up being solo performance, they all paid attention. In the beginning, a student who sat up front scoffed on numerous occasions so much so that I began to wonder whether I totally suck at this teaching thing, toward the end, he was totally wide-eyed. Several students chatted here and there, but overall, they all paid attention. Really, they did. Not one looked overwhelmed, or frustrated, or bored. I left the classroom very, very encouraged. I WILL deviate from Leia’s plan in my assignments, but I now know better in what ways. I shall structure each day in such a way it is predictable and I shall tirelessly explain where they can find information. I shall hold high expectations. I shall not treat them like kids, but partners.
I am writing now, 3 days after the fact and one more class under my belt. I feel better because it seems the second session went better.
