Things I Didn’t Learn in Grad School: Part 2

In our late teens and early twenties most of our time is spent trying to achieve. Achieve just about anything. Anything that will help us better ourselves and our futures. For some this might mean a spouse, a job, and for many a college education. This is where we find most college students today. It is important to not mistake this for selfishness or any other forms of self-absorption. Like someone on a capsized ship they have to focus on pulling themselves up and learning to swim before they can focus on saving anyone else. Life can be that way at times. 

I started my undergrad career at 22 years old and though this fact gave me more maturity than many of my classmates it did not immunize me from the fever to achieve. As a result of this fever (and some personal history to set straight) I spent every waking hour working. I did not simply want to do well, I needed to. This would be my mindset for the next 8 years. Every test we face in life becomes our testimony. Those 8 years are mine. 

Students today are facing similar tests and building their own testimony. Like me the successful students have little time for anything other than work, especially if they’re in my courses. Many would question that given my trials why would I still be as demanding? To be clear, my expectations are not my own, but rather those the world has required for success. 

As an educator there are some things that cannot be moved. Your expectations are one of them. It is the fixed goal that every student needs to obtain. It is the guiding light in the night for which they use to steer their way. However, though your expectations cannot move, that does not imply that you cannot either. It is important to state that that does not mean you can hold their hand throughout their journey but you have the ability to aid them along the way. For example:

Let us bring back the analogy of the capsized ship for a moment. Imagine now that a student is thrown in the water and gasping for air. Now imagine someone threw them a life jacket. They’re not out of the water. They’re still kicking their feet and learning to maneuver about. However, they’re not drowning and they are able to focus a little more on those in the water around them. 

This is compassionate teaching. A way of teaching valuable lessons without coddling or encouraging dependency. 

The notable challenge is understanding when the ship has capsized. Due to high demands and societal induced fragile psyches, students are constantly on the edge of an anxiety driven breakdown (a post may come later on my thoughts on this). At times these breakdowns can be rather significant. I have seen them lead to students seeking mental health professionals and/or exiting the degree program or college altogether. This is why it is paramount to have open channels of communication with your students and to be available to them at all possible times. 

Through your willingness to be “present” during their capsizing event (or even the possibility of one) you are ensuring an opportunity for compassionate teaching and helping to alleviate unnecessary stress. Your presence also allows you to use these moments to further educate them by pointing out preventative measures so that they may learn how to prevent a recurrence. Some of the more important preventative measures I’ve taught during this crucial time are; time management, self-confidence, and community building.

In closing the most important thing I didn’t learn in grad school is that being a “present” educator who also subscribes to compassionate teaching allows you to build stronger relationships with your students through better trust and report. Because when students understand that you will sacrifice to help them achieve they will understand that not only are you a compassionate teacher, but more importantly you are a compassionate person. 

Next up:

• Student Work – Annual Reports
• The Importance of Rest