A colleague recently commented on how there seems to be a natural tendency for us as humans to fight against the notion of living a life of transparency, how we have an urge to be self-protective, creating a sort of mask of how we want our lives to appear to the outside world. We had been discussing both the classroom and online communication, and the conversation left me wondering how I measure up in this area, especially given that transparency is something I value highly.
When I began teaching undergrads, I was only barely older than
some of my students (and when I had adult learners in the classroom, they were usually significantly older than me). I was concerned about maintaining my authority as an instructor- I'd heard stories of students who lost all respect for their instructors when they discovered he or she was a lowly graduate student- and so I kept my teaching manner fairly formal, perhaps cool or distant, even. I'd dress very professionally, switching to more casual clothing only once the classroom dynamic had been established securely; I didn't share many personal anecdotes or express my own opinions about topics very often. It apparently worked; I had students regularly addressing me using the "Doctor" honorific when I had no claim to it. (This was incredibly confusing when it happened in concert with my first semester after getting married and changing my name. You want Dr. Who?)
Since that time I have become much more confident in the classroom. I have a few years of experience under my belt. I'm comfortable sharing stories about my little girl. I bust out my soapbox on occasion (and acknowledge it as such, because I don't want my students to assume I'm speaking the gospel truth just because I'm passionate about something). I've started doing an "ask the professor" session at the end of my courses, where students can ask me any questions they like- about my faith, family, career, research, etc., and I really enjoy it.
In hindsight, I can't help wondering what mentoring relationships I may have missed out on early on in my teaching career because I didn't want to be transparent. And I wonder what subtler opportunities for modeling Christ I gave up along the way. I don't know if my behavior deserves censure- if there was some improper pride or fear going on- or if it was just a growth stage. Regardless, I really do value transparency. It's an excellent motivator to make every thought, word, and deed glorify God. It makes friendships work, and is essential for the body of Christ, where we are supposed to transcend questions of status.
Nevertheless, I am not always transparent, and my online presence is one of those troublesome areas. Take Facebook, for example: I don't exactly agonize about my profile pictures, but not just any old shot will do- I want one that makes me look good. In my vainer moments I have been known to Photoshop out blemishes before posting pictures of myself. I also think carefully about what I post on my Facebook status updates, instead of just saying what's on my mind as the status update prompt suggests. Sometimes that's just a healthy, courteous, wise habit at work, but sometimes it's about the image I want to maintain.
Sometimes it really is a matter of fear: how many of the people I know would actually still like me if they really knew my opinions on everything? I was raised in a very conservative environment, and while I'm still fairly conservative in many respects, a lot has changed for me. If nothing else, I'm willing to consider a range of perspectives that many people I know would immediately dismiss, and I've found that that alone can be offensive. In the last post I mentioned a few things people just don't talk about in polite company, and then felt conflicted about linking to my blog from my Facebook account as a result (I didn't mind putting it out there on the web anonymously, but what if, gasp, a family member read it?).
Sometimes I'm afraid of being dismissed outright because of my age or sex. I suspect I still have some holdover baggage from my years as a precocious teen; I was always proud of finishing my bachelor's before I turned 20, but sometimes I still feel like I'm masquerading in the adult world. I've personally experienced Christian circles where women's opinions don't really matter. I've even seriously hesitated to say anything indicative of my age or sex on this blog, in the hopes that any readers would imagine me to be some wise sage with whatever accompanying stats they liked to assign me (something like the blank page in The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, where the reader is instructed to draw/imagine their own rendition of the most beautiful woman ever).
I don't have an answer to the question of how much transparency is enough, or even whether more is necessarily better. But reflecting honestly on my own habits in the classroom and online is a step in the right direction. (Doesn't that sound clichéd? What will they think of me?)
Prof Compton,
ReplyDeleteI resonate with this post, but not because I'm in the same boat. I completed about 80% of a bachelor's degree and then did several years of ministry where people as old as my parents were calling me pastor. The only thing I could think during those times were, "Wow. I'm in WAY over my head!"
But now that table has turned. I'm finishing up my undergrad with every bit of intention and passion to go on to higher education. So now I'm the "old-guy" (granted, only 29) in the classroom.
But let me say this from the "old-guy" perspective. Your transparency and willingness to give your personal opinion was what made the class I took with you go from an A to an A+. And you still kept every bit of classroom authority. I (and here's my confession) recall asking a few curveball questions just to see how you'd hit them. And you knocked them out of the park every time.
Maybe this is just me being optimistic, but I feel a good student will size their professor up not by their age, but by their knowledge and wisdom on the topic. So be transparent! Because in terms of teaching, you were the 60 year old professor with multiple PhDs.
Thanks, Joshua. I don't recall any questions I would have considered curveballs- though you did come up with some interesting ones- but it's quite possible that my definition of a curveball is different, given what I've seen at philosophy conferences and colloquia!
ReplyDeleteIt has been my experience that most students value a class where the professor is able to demonstrate both 1) that the material being considered is important, and 2) that the professor genuinely has something to offer the student in mastering the material and related skills.
Late reply - I'm thinking that an undergrad's curveball to someone getting their PhD in philosophy is more like an underhanded pitch with a beach ball. :)
ReplyDeleteThey might have been questions I'd considered before, but I know some of them were questions that your classmates hadn't all considered, and that's part of the point of the class :-)
ReplyDelete