Monday, February 16, 2009

Teaching

When I was in the seventh grade I had a math teacher who was not only egregiously bad at what she did, but was also mean, angry, and vindictive. I don't suppose that teaching large groups of seventh-graders is likely to improve a person's disposition. Nevertheless, if someone is bad at teaching and also mean-tempered, then that person should not be teaching.

Be that as it may, she was my teacher. I had the misfortune of having to sit in the front row. When my teacher was boring us, that was all right. I did other things. When she was screaming at us, I was among a few people who bore the full brunt of her fiery wrath.

At some point during the year we were going through a particularly long boring stretch, and I overreached. I started reading in class. I mean reading things other than my math text book. I mean that I was reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, (you can look it up on Amazon or Wikipedia) partly hidden under my desk.

At some point when I wasn't paying attention my math teacher switched from boring mode to full-on screaming angry and vindictive mode. She noticed that I was reading a book, indeed a book entirely unrelated to the math problems she was "explaining" to us and writing on the chalk board.

She snatched the book from my hands, glanced at it, and screamed "MRS. FINCH AND THE RATS! WHAT!?!" After that she promptly threw my book into the trash can, after which point I received a full-on screaming lecture, spittle included. I have no idea what she screamed at me. At some point she calmed down and went back to ... er ... teaching. To my surprise I wasn't suspended or anything. At the end of class she sat at her desk while I furtively plucked my book from the garbage.

At a later point in my life, during graduate school, I had a teacher of an entirely different subject. I won't mention the subject, since I don't want to give any hint of the man's identity. He had a rather odd and often unpleasant personality. I took his courses for three years. For the first year, whenever he called on me to answer a question I was simply identified by him as "You With The Glasses." After the first year he learned my first name.

He had the habit of ridiculing students. On one occasion he told a young woman that she should have been "strangled at birth" for making a fairly common mistake about a quite difficult matter. Usually when somebody made a mistake of some kind, this teacher would make buzzes and other noises and then move on to the next person.

Outside class it was almost impossible for me or just about anybody else to have any sort of interaction with this man. I heard from various sources that there were a few exceptions, but I was never able to verify this. Whenever I tried to approach him socially he would sort of give me a sideways look (not exactly a "fisheye" kind of look, but something similar) and then walk in some other direction.

Nevertheless, students flocked to his courses. They fell in love with the subject matter. He explained things so well and in such an excited manner that it was almost impossible to fail to become excited oneself. Even the young woman who was told that she should have been murdered by her parents came back to his class (after an absence of a few weeks, but still). People came who weren't registered in the courses. This teacher didn't mind at all. He was so in love with his subject matter that he would teach it just about anywhere, at any time, for no cost.

Now I've given an example of a very bad teacher, and another example of a very good (perhaps great) teacher. Granted, the difference in the ages of the students might make some difference in these two cases, but not much, at least in my view.

There are many examples of bad teachers, both in our own lives and in the news. I think many things can make a teacher a bad one; these things are obvious to most of us, except possibly to some of us who are teachers.

What makes an excellent or even great teacher, I truly don't know. I think there must be some sort of unique gift which, when combined with the right background, produces such a person.

Still, I think we can learn something about what makes a good teacher from the examples I've given. It's not necessary to treat students as if each and every one of them were made out of gold filigree and lace. I think that much is clear. It is, however, necessary to help the students connect with the subject matter which is being taught, in such a way that it becomes as interesting as possible. In better situations, the student's interest in the subject sort of takes on a life of its own, at least for a while. At some point the student might develop a love for learning itself.

Hans Bricker