We all have those teachers and professors who have made phenomenal impacts on our lives, for good and bad, for personal and/or academic reasons. Teachers can introduce us to new and exciting ideas or convince us to abandon a previously-loved field of investigation, build or cut down self-confidence and self-worth, and lead us to develop ethics and attitudes, for good or ill, that will last for the rest of our lives. You know the ones I am talking about. The good ones I know by name; the bad ones only by year and subject. There was the Native American History teacher in 11th grade who had us fill out pre-made worksheets for a full quarter. I remember none of that. In contrast, Mrs. Carttar in sixth grade was probably the best teacher I had. She was a very classic 1960s educator, dealing with what at the time was really unusual material -- Africa (I still remember loving the peanut chicken stew we ate for lunch one day, and with that class I didn't mind worksheets!), about what it was like to experience prejudice and shunning ("Prejudice Day" was a valuable experience for those on both sides of the class -- the experience was repeated with a flipping of the two halves of the class), and the friends I made there are still my closest friends from high school (with Todd I went to the first Star Trek convention in Kansas City -- we rode in on the Greyhound and my Dad picked us up and brought us home, on a weekday, no less!). Mrs. Fambrough introduced me to Shakespeare, although I had read and seen the plays before. In college there were Mrs. Ridgway, Ms. Mellink, Mrs. Crawford, and Mrs. Pinney, and of course, Mr. Ellis, who was my advisor when I officially declared my major. All were excellent teachers and more importantly, they were mentors.
Mentoring is a lifelong thing, if you do it right. Teaching and modeling are never over. I saw Mrs. Ridgway at my 30th college reunion this past summer. I saw her eyes dip to my nametag, and then she knew exactly what I had done, both during my time there and after I graduated. She remembered that I had written a humour column for my college newspaper, based on the commentary of my (imaginary) cat who was a predecessor in tone of Grumpy Cat. I heard from a co-major from the men's college down the road how she had come to his graduation, held the day after ours, and she was one of the few faculty from ours to attend theirs. It had meant a lot to him then, and still now. Those are the things that stick, and she still is amazing to me. I can only hope to mean as much to my students thirty years on.
That is what it means to me to be a good teacher, to not only manage to develop ideas and knowledge that will stick with someone in the immediate semester, but to engender attitudes and abilities that will still be around in thirty to forty years. I have not been teaching that long, but I am in my 23rd year here, and I have seen my students grown into exciting professionals, in a variety of fields. and I hope to mean to them in the future what my school and college teachers mean to me.
Come below the whirly-gig of glory for more.
I have been thinking of this for the past week, as a student who went with me to Cairo many years ago and who still lives in town has been trying a new non-academic venture. After graduation, she got her massage training and runs a therapy place in town. She also has for more than a decade taught belly dancing (one of the reasons she so wanted to go to Egypt). I am helping her learn more about cooking Middle Eastern food, as she becomes more and more ambitious in her experimentation. It is not an academic thing, but she can lean on my interest and expertise (well, interest anyway!) to help her develop her own abilities. That she still keeps in touch with me and I have seen her shine as an adult out on her own (joining Rotary, for example, as the young professionals in town do for networking and companionship) is a fun side-benefit of having had her in class eight or nine years ago. (I finally got over the awkwardness of using her services; she is a good masseuse)
Another of my former students won a Guggenheim fellowship this past year; others are in museum or work for schools and universities (not just as teachers, but as researchers, IT specialists, librarians, and office and program managers). One is an architect and a planner at my own institution. Another runs an animation business in Los Angeles. Still another works for SAFE and another is a translator in refugee programs/settlements in Jordan. Others also work to improve the world in a variety of ways, through being a children's librarian, or through politics, advocacy, and the Peace Corps. Linkedin has been really useful to keep tabs on former students, now colleagues, and Facebook, of course, is a great source for networking. Some of them are in a field similar to mine; many are not. Some are not working at all but more are working and most are relatively happy in their choice of vocation. The things I gave them, I hope, are the ability to weigh a variety of options, to critically assess a situation, and to develop alternatives when they find a path unsatisfying or too challenging in a way that is not worth the effort put into it. I am happy to see them follow through in the field I have taught them in, but I am equally pleased when they choose another trajectory or change paths. It is as important to realize something isn't right as to get yourself into a life that is perfect immediately. I did the perfect immediately thing, but very few of us are lucky enough to manage that. My colleagues generally are not straight from undergrad to graduate to teaching positions, and I took a year off from full-time studenting myself. It takes people a while sometimes to figure out what they want to do, or are meant to do.
I want to know what my former students are doing. I like writing letters of recommendation that can talk about the intermediate years between the bachelor's degree and the graduate application. A letter for someone who graduated several years before and only talks about how they did in classes back then is only part of the story. Sometimes that is all I can tell, and that is okay; it is good to be able to say that a former student has the ability to do well in whatever post-graduate program he or she is applying to. But if I can talk more about them, how they have grown from the time they left here, I think the letter will be more personal, informative, and effective.
I have been invited to be a "leader in residence" at a former student's university, and to give guest lectures for others. These are flattering. But the most satisfying experience is to hear from a former student who has grown into someone who is interesting and creative and more than anything else, enjoying life. And if there is anything I can do to help that, whether professional (a letter of recommendation, for example) or less (recipes, travel or book recommendations, introductions) I like to do so.
And I see that as a part of my job. A good part, a fun part. It is easier to keep in touch with former students now through Facebook, Linkedin, and email. I do like the occasional postcard or snail mail letter, though. Postcards are another fun part of the job. Very few of my former students are people I would call friends. Perhaps three or four over 20+ years. I value those very much in a very different way from the others; they move in and out of your life in unexpected ways, in the way other friends do. Their being students is a bit beside the point by the time I have realized they are my friends.
The bottom line is that when you teach, you may also be a mentor. In fact, I would argue that if the student asks you, you should strongly consider being a mentor (some students don't want that, and that is fine, too). But for me, being one is potentially a lifelong commitment. If I do it right, it probably will be. That is something I have found makes my life as a teacher and professor really satisfying. I teach undergraduates, but this of course happens with graduate students as well. Of course there are limits, and I know several male professors who have married their female students -- I am not advocating for THAT sort of relationship!
I wonder about those for whom mentoring and supporting students in these ways are not an important aspect of their careers. Why would you teach if you don't want to make that kind of a connection with students? There are lots of other jobs that don't require that from you.