MAJeff here with his espresso.

A few years ago, when I was teaching back in Minnesota, there was a group of us first-year faculty who got together every Wednesday night for beer, pool, and chat. We had to switch bars a couple times–once because some folks weren’t feeling very comfortable with the war-mongering in our usual bar when we were there during the invasion of Iraq, and another because I spent an hour getting harassed by some of the locals (it was an hour because I refused to give up public space, but threats of violence told me an hour was long enough)–but we kept at it for the year. Several of us ended up leaving town after the spring, so I don’t think it kept going. I’ve not found something like since.

One of the things conversation turned to every night was teaching. Of course, some of it was complaining about our students. But a lot of it was of the, “What do you do when…?” or “How do you…?” or even “Class rocked today!” I don’t have the citation handy, but one of us even published an article based on those weekly drinking excursions. (In the literature, it became about “peer-mentoring.”) Coming from Sociology, Biology, English, Art Education, Math, Women’s Studies, and Computer Engineering we often didn’t have topical course information we could share. But, we talked about our classroom time, students with difficulties, difficult students, and the fact that none of them had ever heard of Billie Holliday. Those Wednesday nights with colleagues were honestly some of the best experiences of my teaching career.

I was reminded of those evenings recently. A few years ago, I was asked to put together a “Nuts and Bolts of Teaching” workshop for new Teaching Fellows where I’m doing my PhD. These are grad students who’ve spent time as Teaching Assistants but are preparing to teach their own classes for the first time. I didn’t do the workshop this year (I created it and taught it the two previous years), but had to find my materials for the Professor who was taking it over. The department used to have a semester-long course on teaching, but it had fallen by the wayside. Now, there’s a one-day workshop.

I’ve taught at six schools in the past 7 years. Other than that one year–when I was an Assistant Professor who had to go through orientation, where I met all those drinking teachers–I’ve never had the kinds of opportunities to engage in that “teaching talk.” My best friend here in Boston and I used to have those conversations quite a bit. But since the Department moved me from our shared office to one in a hallway all by myself, we don’t see each other as often, and rarely get to spend that kind of time talking about our teaching.

Now, one thing going on here is simply being adjunct. As I’ve described it to my students when they asked why I wasn’t sure if I’d be back the next year, we adjuncts are nothing more than “temps.” We have the same lack of job security and, generally, non-benefit status. We’re easily exploitable labor. And, we’re evidence of how little value teaching has. Regular faculty can get time-off for research; then we temps get hired. We may not contribute much in terms of building up departments, but to managers concerned with the fiscal bottom line, we’re a bargain. Some of us are pretty good, too.

My best friend here in the city teaches with me. We used to share an office, but because of scheduling issues, I got moved to another office; I’m now the only person in an entire basement wing of the building. We don’t get to talk much about teaching, like we used to, because we just don’t see each other as often. I admit that my friend and I are somewhat exceptional in being among the best instructors in the department. (I’ve got the evals to back it up.) But, there’s often very little opportunity for adjunct people to work on improving our teaching skills. I’m starting my sixth and final year at this school. Several of the places I’ve taught, including, this one, have any number of programs put in place to assist faculty in improving their teaching. Often, adjunct aren’t even made aware of such opportunities, and even if we were, we wouldn’t be eligible for them. More of the people teaching students aren’t provided opportunities to improve their skills. We’re teaching more and more of the classes, and the primary concern often isn’t our teaching ability, but the cost of our labor.

I’m not complaining too hard here. Adjunct positions have allowed me to teach at a wide variety of schools, to gain incredible experience, and–because I love teaching–to work on my own skills (albeit on my own). It’s frustrating, though, to have very strong skills in an area that is so devalued.

Teaching is a wonderful profession.

I really, really like my students. It’s an amazing experience to every year watch a new group of young people discover new things, about themselves and the world around them. It’s a little overwhelming, sometimes, to be a part of that process. And, it’s cute as hell when you can see the “EUREKA!” moment on their faces, as are the contorted facial expressions during exams. It’s heartbreaking when they come to my office to chat about their relationship problems or being denied and apartment because of their race. It’s a bit overwhelming to realize the role we often play in this young people’s lives.

The classroom is my happy place. And that seems to come through to my students. I’m still amazed when I run into them on the train or at a conference or when I receive an email out of the blue. It’s incredible to hear how I’ve touched people, even those who just sat in the back of the room being quiet.

So, here’s to teachers and to teaching. Here’s to the people that moved the folks reading this. Here’s to my HS science teacher, who was actually able to interest me; here’s to my undergrad Voice Instructor, who let me break down crying when I was struggling with coming out of the closet; here’s to my MA and PhD advisors, who taught me about being actively engaged scholars; and here’s to the folks I TA’d for in my PhD program, who taught me it’s ok to be me when teaching. Here’s to the folks toiling away, doing good work, inspiring and instructing.

Here’s to teachers. Who are the teachers for you, and how did they inspire you?

Guest Blogger Danio:

Stand up and cheer for the academic standards at UC, and the LA Federal Judge whose ruling on accrediting courses taught in Christian schools upholds these standards.

A federal judge in Los Angeles has thrown out the remaining claims of Calvary Chapel Christian School, which sued the University of California alleging university officials rejected some courses for credit because of their Christian viewpoint.

What a bunch of sticklers those UC guys are! In order to qualify as an accepted college preparatory course, the UC standards require the course content to be largely reality based:

a UC professor who reviewed Calvary’s proposed Christianity’s Influence on America class said the course used a textbook that “instructs that the Bible is the unerring source for analysis of historical events,” “attributes historical events to divine providence rather than analyzing human action,” and “contains inadequate treatment of several major ethnic groups, women and non-Christian religious groups.”

Oh, the uppity secular progressivness of it all! Surely indoctrination into batshit insane bigotry shouldn’t affect one’s admission into a state university, right? Right?

That, apparently, was the basis of the lawsuit filed on behalf of Calvary by the Advocates for Faith and Freedom. The lead counsel for the plaintiffs, of course, plans to appeal, and is playing up the discrimination angle for this poor, embattled majority faith for all it’s worth:

Tyler…fears schools will become afraid to teach from a Christian perspective. “We’re worried in the long term, Christian education is going to be continually watered down in order to satisfy the UC school system,” he said.

That’s right, you tool. Churches and church-sponsored schools are free to teach all the nonsense they want to willing, tuition-paying participants, but they must not be free of the consequences of setting their egregiously misinformed students loose in the real world.

This is how to do it: the Big Think project wants you to look over their inspirational science profiles and vote for one — and as a reward, they’ll donate $1 to DonorsChoose, to fund educational projects. This is a win:win situation. For a couple of clicks, you get to be entertained for a few minutes, and you get to gouge a dollar out of Pfizer, and you get to help out school teachers. How can you not do it?

Apparently, they need 8000 more clicks to meet their quota and limit for the month. I bet we can do that in a day.

(By the way, I voted for Pardis Sabeti.)

The Center for Inquiry has put together two letters on the Webster Cook affair, one to be sent to UCF president John Hitt, and the other to the Catholic League. I’ve put both below the fold.

[Read more…]

Randy Pausch, 23 October 1960-25 July 2008

June Sheldon was an adjunct professor of biology at San Jose/Evergreen Community College, teaching genetics. Here’s one account of a lecture she gave.

On June 21, 2007, June Sheldon, an adjunct professor teaching a human heredity course, answered a question about how heredity affects homosexual behavior by citing the class textbook and a well-known German scientist. She noted that the scientist found a correlation between maternal stress and homosexual behavior in males but that the scientist’s views are only one set of theories in the nature-versus-nurture debate mentioned by the textbook. Sheldon then explained that the class would learn in a later chapter of the textbook that homosexual behavior may be influenced by both genes and the environment.

Here’s another.

In the class discussion, Sheldon noted that the nature/nurture question was complex. She said that from the nurture point of view, fathers who wanted heterosexual sons might choose to treat their wives with courtesy. She also argued that from the nurture point of view, a theoretical possibility is that some women might have chosen lesbian relationships after having had bad heterosexual relationships.

These all sound like reasonable discussions of the issue. Of course, they are all written after the fact, so maybe the presentation has been cleaned up a bit. After all, a student found the lecture to be grounds to make a formal complaint.

On June 21st, our session of Human Heredity class was based on a development chapter. Professor Sheldon began to talk about something that had no mention in the textbook. I found many parts of her lecture highly offensive and unscientific. She presented this information, however, as hard science.

She said that a German study found that pregnant mice, when subjected to severe stress, would produce gay male rates. She said that the scientists cut off part of the pregnant mouse’s tail and dipped her in scalding water. I later found a website explaining what I’m quite sure is the study she was referencing. The study only used one mouse in the experimental group and one mouse in the control group. Not only that, the study did not explain how they determined the offspring were gay.

Professor Sheldon said that there are hardly any gay men in the Middle East because the women are treated very nicely. That comment was inaccurate, baseless, and offensive. First of all, determining a gay population is very difficult, and somewhat impossible if the atmosphere in that region is completely intolerant to gays. Also, I found it offensive that she thought women who must have written notes from a man to attend school are treated nicely.

A student asked Professor Sheldon what causes homosexuality in women. Professor Sheldon promptly replied that there aren’t any real lesbians. According to her, women simply get tire of relationships with men and pursue them with women.

To conclude her lecture, she addressed the men in the classroom, saying that if they want a “nice,” and strong son, they should treat their wives very nicely (do things like “open doors for them”). And she said, if they wanted a “sensitive” son, they should abuse their wives.

Even after a month of waiting to cool down, I am still horribly offended.

There are some things in that account that are bizarre: few gay men in the Middle East? Women who have sexual relationships with other women aren’t “real” lesbians? Just by that account, I’d agree that there might have been some weird assertions in the lecture. However, I teach genetics, too, and I know that students often come away with very garbled interpretations of what I taught, and I have the exam scores to prove it.

It’s also odd that the student doesn’t like the study he or she thinks the professor referenced. The maternal stress theory of homosexuality is a real, if somewhat controversial (like every theory about homosexuality), idea that has conflicting evidence in support about a contributing factor to sexual orientation. It’s perfectly appropriate to discuss it in class, especially if the professor also acknowledges other theories.

There are some red flags in that complaint, too. Complaining that she was lecturing about “something that had no mention in the textbook” is an argument that irritates me no end. That’s the point of having a professor — they’re there to discuss ideas with you. A class is not an exercise in regurgitating facts from the textbook. It’s also suspicious that this is a subjective account written a month after the event. The student has been sitting there stewing in outrage for weeks, and then assembles a complaint? Bleh. Throw it out on those grounds alone.

Then there is the fact that the student complains over and over about being offended. What do you want? Feel-good pablum in which you’re affirmed in what you already know? If you’re offended, speak up and argue. This was a wonderful opportunity: ask the professor to back up details of the experiment in question (Sheldon has since said that she was talking about the work of Günter Dörner, which really does involve more than one pair of mice). If you’ve got information that says the numbers in the experiment were weak, say so, and ask her to look into it. This is another reason professors are kind of useful to have around — they’re more responsive than your textbook, or should be.

I’d like to see more concrete evidence of invalid instruction than this. How about an exam question that is graded wrong if the student argues that homosexuals are not more rare in the Middle East than anywhere else? How about copies of powerpoint slides that assert nonsense? Let’s see some evidence of errors of substance.

Unfortunately, this complaint has gotten Sheldon’s contract terminated. She’s an adjunct, the university has the privilege of not renewing her contract (although it looks like they didn’t follow their own grievance procedures), so there’s probably not much she can do to oppose this, but Sheldon has filed a legal complaint anyway. Good luck to her. If professors could be dismissed on the basis of a single student complaint that they were “offended” by the content of a lecture, there wouldn’t be any of us around anymore.

I can’t say that I’m at all impressed with SJCC’s commitment to academic freedom, or their excessive reaction to a single student’s complaint. There is something more going on there, and they aren’t being forthcoming about it.