My Freshman Year
In My Freshman Year: What a Professor Learned by Becoming a Student, Rebekah Nathan (a pseudonym), an anthropology professor at AnyU (the university's name is also protected), takes an anthropological approach to undergraduate college life. She spent a year living in the dorms, taking classes, and getting to know undergraduates as one of their own. The book attempts to discover answers to the following questions:What is the current culture at AnyU . . . as an example of the American public university? How do contemporary American students understand their education, and what do they want from it? How do they negotiate university life? What does college really teach? (4)
Nathan relies on direct observation of dorm life, conversations with students, and classroom experiences as well as more traditional focus groups, surveys, and interviews (with students who knew she was a professor and researcher) to develop answers to these questions.
Some of the information she is able to provide is interesting, but, for me, none of it was truly new. She seems surprised to find that about half of all undergrads work at least ten hours a week while taking a full load. She seems surprised to find out how many students don't do the reading assignments for class, no matter how helpful the professor is. She seems surprised at how pragmatic the students are about their courses--in terms of scheduling them (getting a good mix of easy and challenging courses; making sure their courses are at the right times, even choosing a course merely for the time slot instead for the content; and choosing a course because of other students' commentary on the professor) and in terms of their ultimate usefulness in getting a job and making money. This is not news to me, so large chunks of the book in which she reveals these bits of information are not terribly interesting.
Her chapter called "How Others See Us," about the way students from other countries view American universities, is perhaps the most interesting chapter in the book. She interviews international students and discovers ways in which our cultural differences confuse them. A young Japanese woman feels slighted after American students say things like "Nice to meet you," "Drop by," and "See you soon" but then never follow through on their friendly overtures. She takes these statements literally; unfortunately, these are friendly stock phrases instead of sincere expressions of interest. A Korean student points out that she has difficulty making new friends because the other students all disappear right after class instead of spending time together. Many international students seem baffled by the lack of interest American students show in their backgrounds. The picture that emerges is of self-contained, only apparently friendly students. A French student comments about the process of making friends in America, Sure I have friends. It's so easy to meet people here, to make friends. . . . Well, not really friends. That's the thing. Friendship is very surface-defined here. It is easy to get to know people, but the friendship is superficial. We wouldn't even call it a friendship. In France, when you're someone's friend, you're their friend for life. (75)
The international students also have a different view of the role of the professor:Teaching in America is like a one-man show. . . . Teachers tell jokes; they do PowerPoint. There is audience participation. . . . [In France, it's] a lecture. They're not trying to interest and entertain the students, and where I went to school we never rated the professors, like entertainers, with evaluations at the end of every course. (80)
UTA is a very international school. I wonder how students here see UTA's students and professors. I can't imagine the impression would be much different. On the other hand, Nathan points out that international students report having an easier time making friends with students who belong to other minority groups, but I have seen lots of friendships that belie this. Or perhaps I'm just not seeing enough of the picture. Some of my observation is from the teacher's perspective and some is from the student's perspective.
Nathan talks a lot about the codes of conduct that guide student behavior, focusing on what kind of behaviors and attitudes are acceptable in class. For instance, she argues that to speak up too often, ask questions that are not common ones, or get too chummy with the teacher is to become a sort of traitor to the other students in the class. This isn't news to me, but it is a reminder. The thing is, I have always known this, but I didn't ever care that much. She refers to the students who break these rules as "witches" (as in, to be persecuted). In many classes, I was the witch. An interesting side note about the kinds of questions that are acceptable by student standards:One particularly sensitive community college professor told me, "I never use professional jargon in my classes, because if my students didn't understand what I was saying, no one in the class would ever ask me." As a student, I realized that he was right. "What does that mean?" is, incredibly, just not the kind of question that an American college student would ask. (92)
It's weird because I noted this as I was reading, thinking, "That's so true," but now, upon rereading it, it strikes me as far too simplistic. I have students ask me that question quite often. Some semesters we spend a lot of time dealing with such questions; some semesters no one asks me that question. I don't use a lot of "professional jargon" in my courses, but I know that from time to time I use words or refer to concepts that they don't know. It seems to come down to the atmosphere in the classroom. If they are strangers to each other they are much less likely to risk themselves by asking such a question. If, however, they have gotten to know one another or have a couple of friends in the class, they very well might.
In many ways, this book reads as a 168-page statement of the blindingly obvious. Most students are not here because they love American literature or writing. They are not here because they love history or anthropology or whatever subject they're studying. They are here because this is a step in 1) becoming an adult, and 2) getting a job. Some students do love the subjects we teach, but even if they do, there are a lot of pressures bearing down on them. She actually states in the final chapter that this experience has reminded her that students have lots of other classes besides hers:So it always comes as a surprise to me that students appear clueless about what happened in the last class, that only a minority of them have done the reading assigned, and that almost no undergraduates ever show up for my office hours unless perhaps they are failing.
I see now what I didn't see before. In the time between my Tuesday and Thursday classes in introductory anthropology I have taught only one other class, and I have spent at least some time on Wednesday arranging my Thursday class presentation. By contrast, my students have had at least four other classes in between, maybe more, and they have completed many other reading and writing assignments in the interim, in addition, perhaps, to working a job and attending residence hall or club programs.
If they were like me as a student, they feel virtuous that they're present for class, that they remembered to bring the right notebook, and that they managed to catch a bus that has delivered them on time. When class ends at 10:50, they will be off to another bus and another class, because they have designed a schedule, just as I did as a teacher, that apportions blocks of work and free time. While I am there for office hours right after class, they are taking another class with another professor who starts right on time to discourage lateness. (136)
Can I get a resounding DUH?! This passage represents precisely why I feel like this book is flawed. Nathan may address all the questions laid out in her introduction, but she does so with this attitude that the things she describes are interesting or new--or something. Sadly, however, although this book didn't do much for me, I can see it being useful for others because clearly there are lots of teachers (and administrators) who are completely disconnected from student life and who have completely forgotten what it's like to be a student.
As far as the book's usefulness to me, a lot of the practices or attitudes she describes (e.g., reasons students don't come to class or do work) are things that I can do nothing about. But I do what I can to make it possible to learn in my class by giving them incentives for reading, periodic freewriting or groupwork for points in class, and clear connections between what we read and the exams/essays. I know they won't read everything. That's okay with me. I push them to read as much as possible and I let them know (as much as I can) where the lines are between passing and failing. I demand good work of them for a good grade, but, honestly, I know that they have jobs and classes and clubs and, very frequently, families (something Nathan didn't really address was the population of returning students or students with families), so I give them as much leeway as I can in terms of turning things in. On the other hand, as Nathan points out, students lie. I know this, too. I ask them for documentation of missed classes or I rely on my gut when hearing out sob stories (which, I'm sure, means I get tricked sometimes), but generally I hold them to the attendance policy. One of the lessons of college is learning to juggle. Let them learn to juggle my class, too. I try to maintain a realistic vision of what students' lives are like and make it possible for them to learn about literature or writing from me while drawing lines in the sand that keep me from being walked all over and that allow students to learn lessons about responsibility, obligation, and, yes, time management.
Nathan ends with a message of warning. She discusses the increasing commodification of education as universities look to businesses as models of how to recruit and retain students, how to package education, and she concludes, Although we may want universities to address the needs of our states and our businesses, we cannot rely on either the politics of government or the profits of corporations to guide the educational mission. In the long run, we would not want a university to become so immersed in the world as it is that it can neither critique that world nor proffer an ideal vision of how else it might be. These are purposes of universities that none of us should surrender. (153)
Indeed. Here I can most certainly agree with her.
Nathan relies on direct observation of dorm life, conversations with students, and classroom experiences as well as more traditional focus groups, surveys, and interviews (with students who knew she was a professor and researcher) to develop answers to these questions.
Some of the information she is able to provide is interesting, but, for me, none of it was truly new. She seems surprised to find that about half of all undergrads work at least ten hours a week while taking a full load. She seems surprised to find out how many students don't do the reading assignments for class, no matter how helpful the professor is. She seems surprised at how pragmatic the students are about their courses--in terms of scheduling them (getting a good mix of easy and challenging courses; making sure their courses are at the right times, even choosing a course merely for the time slot instead for the content; and choosing a course because of other students' commentary on the professor) and in terms of their ultimate usefulness in getting a job and making money. This is not news to me, so large chunks of the book in which she reveals these bits of information are not terribly interesting.
Her chapter called "How Others See Us," about the way students from other countries view American universities, is perhaps the most interesting chapter in the book. She interviews international students and discovers ways in which our cultural differences confuse them. A young Japanese woman feels slighted after American students say things like "Nice to meet you," "Drop by," and "See you soon" but then never follow through on their friendly overtures. She takes these statements literally; unfortunately, these are friendly stock phrases instead of sincere expressions of interest. A Korean student points out that she has difficulty making new friends because the other students all disappear right after class instead of spending time together. Many international students seem baffled by the lack of interest American students show in their backgrounds. The picture that emerges is of self-contained, only apparently friendly students. A French student comments about the process of making friends in America, Sure I have friends. It's so easy to meet people here, to make friends. . . . Well, not really friends. That's the thing. Friendship is very surface-defined here. It is easy to get to know people, but the friendship is superficial. We wouldn't even call it a friendship. In France, when you're someone's friend, you're their friend for life. (75)
The international students also have a different view of the role of the professor:Teaching in America is like a one-man show. . . . Teachers tell jokes; they do PowerPoint. There is audience participation. . . . [In France, it's] a lecture. They're not trying to interest and entertain the students, and where I went to school we never rated the professors, like entertainers, with evaluations at the end of every course. (80)
UTA is a very international school. I wonder how students here see UTA's students and professors. I can't imagine the impression would be much different. On the other hand, Nathan points out that international students report having an easier time making friends with students who belong to other minority groups, but I have seen lots of friendships that belie this. Or perhaps I'm just not seeing enough of the picture. Some of my observation is from the teacher's perspective and some is from the student's perspective.
Nathan talks a lot about the codes of conduct that guide student behavior, focusing on what kind of behaviors and attitudes are acceptable in class. For instance, she argues that to speak up too often, ask questions that are not common ones, or get too chummy with the teacher is to become a sort of traitor to the other students in the class. This isn't news to me, but it is a reminder. The thing is, I have always known this, but I didn't ever care that much. She refers to the students who break these rules as "witches" (as in, to be persecuted). In many classes, I was the witch. An interesting side note about the kinds of questions that are acceptable by student standards:One particularly sensitive community college professor told me, "I never use professional jargon in my classes, because if my students didn't understand what I was saying, no one in the class would ever ask me." As a student, I realized that he was right. "What does that mean?" is, incredibly, just not the kind of question that an American college student would ask. (92)
It's weird because I noted this as I was reading, thinking, "That's so true," but now, upon rereading it, it strikes me as far too simplistic. I have students ask me that question quite often. Some semesters we spend a lot of time dealing with such questions; some semesters no one asks me that question. I don't use a lot of "professional jargon" in my courses, but I know that from time to time I use words or refer to concepts that they don't know. It seems to come down to the atmosphere in the classroom. If they are strangers to each other they are much less likely to risk themselves by asking such a question. If, however, they have gotten to know one another or have a couple of friends in the class, they very well might.
In many ways, this book reads as a 168-page statement of the blindingly obvious. Most students are not here because they love American literature or writing. They are not here because they love history or anthropology or whatever subject they're studying. They are here because this is a step in 1) becoming an adult, and 2) getting a job. Some students do love the subjects we teach, but even if they do, there are a lot of pressures bearing down on them. She actually states in the final chapter that this experience has reminded her that students have lots of other classes besides hers:So it always comes as a surprise to me that students appear clueless about what happened in the last class, that only a minority of them have done the reading assigned, and that almost no undergraduates ever show up for my office hours unless perhaps they are failing.
I see now what I didn't see before. In the time between my Tuesday and Thursday classes in introductory anthropology I have taught only one other class, and I have spent at least some time on Wednesday arranging my Thursday class presentation. By contrast, my students have had at least four other classes in between, maybe more, and they have completed many other reading and writing assignments in the interim, in addition, perhaps, to working a job and attending residence hall or club programs.
If they were like me as a student, they feel virtuous that they're present for class, that they remembered to bring the right notebook, and that they managed to catch a bus that has delivered them on time. When class ends at 10:50, they will be off to another bus and another class, because they have designed a schedule, just as I did as a teacher, that apportions blocks of work and free time. While I am there for office hours right after class, they are taking another class with another professor who starts right on time to discourage lateness. (136)
Can I get a resounding DUH?! This passage represents precisely why I feel like this book is flawed. Nathan may address all the questions laid out in her introduction, but she does so with this attitude that the things she describes are interesting or new--or something. Sadly, however, although this book didn't do much for me, I can see it being useful for others because clearly there are lots of teachers (and administrators) who are completely disconnected from student life and who have completely forgotten what it's like to be a student.
As far as the book's usefulness to me, a lot of the practices or attitudes she describes (e.g., reasons students don't come to class or do work) are things that I can do nothing about. But I do what I can to make it possible to learn in my class by giving them incentives for reading, periodic freewriting or groupwork for points in class, and clear connections between what we read and the exams/essays. I know they won't read everything. That's okay with me. I push them to read as much as possible and I let them know (as much as I can) where the lines are between passing and failing. I demand good work of them for a good grade, but, honestly, I know that they have jobs and classes and clubs and, very frequently, families (something Nathan didn't really address was the population of returning students or students with families), so I give them as much leeway as I can in terms of turning things in. On the other hand, as Nathan points out, students lie. I know this, too. I ask them for documentation of missed classes or I rely on my gut when hearing out sob stories (which, I'm sure, means I get tricked sometimes), but generally I hold them to the attendance policy. One of the lessons of college is learning to juggle. Let them learn to juggle my class, too. I try to maintain a realistic vision of what students' lives are like and make it possible for them to learn about literature or writing from me while drawing lines in the sand that keep me from being walked all over and that allow students to learn lessons about responsibility, obligation, and, yes, time management.
Nathan ends with a message of warning. She discusses the increasing commodification of education as universities look to businesses as models of how to recruit and retain students, how to package education, and she concludes, Although we may want universities to address the needs of our states and our businesses, we cannot rely on either the politics of government or the profits of corporations to guide the educational mission. In the long run, we would not want a university to become so immersed in the world as it is that it can neither critique that world nor proffer an ideal vision of how else it might be. These are purposes of universities that none of us should surrender. (153)
Indeed. Here I can most certainly agree with her.