When I started teaching in university, my final exams were always one-on-one with the students. This gave me a laser sharp focus on each student, so that I could evaluate them to a very detailed level. I liked it in some ways, but on the whole it was exhausting. There were semesters when I had more than 200 students, and that is just too much graded conversation. Answering so many of the same questions over and over was bad enough, but asking questions was just plain brutal.
Eventually I dropped that practice in favor of a more practical test: making students talk to each other. They had to ask each other questions, as well as answering. I only provided the first seed question, from a list that they had previously prepared from. The hardest parts for me became not participating when the conversation was interesting, and staying awake when it wasn't.
Of course, that test method is for English conversation classes. But one of my classes is not a standard conversation class. It's called "Building Relationships in English," or BRIE for short. I designed it myself, with the intent of helping Korean students to learn strategies for making friends with English speakers, get along in an English speaking workplace, and have a healthy romantic relationship with a non-Korean speaker. I was aiming for a course that focuses on the cultural aspects of those conversations and relationships, rather than just the language, though I had planned to make it about 20% English vocabulary, expressions, and modalities. Ambitious, I know, but I was already teaching a fair amount of that stuff in between the grammar and vocabulary of a standard class.
But then a funny thing happened: the first time I taught the course I had a lot of foreign students enrolled, about a third of the 25. At first this seemed like an enormous obstacle to overcome: adapting the curriculum to accommodate non-Korean students, and to figure out the differences between their cultures and "standard English" culture (which is so amorphous that it is ridiculous to even think of it as one thing).
Then I realized that what I actually had was a natural laboratory for having students build actual relationships... wait for it... in English! I had them discussing the differences between their cultures with regard to the topics we covered in class, and working on presentations to show how things could go right or wrong in various encounters. It was actually a lot of fun, even though it was hard to teach.
Now I've taught it twice (and I'm in the middle of the third time), all three completely and only on Zoom. I have bumped into one or two of my students randomly on the street, but couldn't get the class together. Last spring (2021) I got very lucky, though. I was taking a bus someplace, and a strange young woman said to me, "Are you professor Robert?"
She was in my BRIE class, and recognized me even with a mask on. (Granted, a foreign man my size, with glasses, graying hair in a ponytail, and a beard peeking out under their mask is not exactly a common sight.) I would never have recognized her, because I did not require that class to use video, just profile photos. She had changed hair styles and color, and was wearing a mask, but when she talked I recognized her voice.
We talked for about 15 minutes, until she got off the bus, and it was so much fun! She is a foreign student of Korean heritage, and her English is good enough that the conversation was easy and natural. I asked her how she felt about the course, because teaching to a Zoom screen is the worst for getting feedback. She told me that it was great, and it was the only class she had that she did not have to work at to stay awake.
I really needed to hear that. As I may have mentioned, working from my bedroom means that I have been living at work for the past two and a half years. I am hoping that we have live classes in the fall of this year, but I'm not holding my breath. I really enjoy being in the classroom with my students. It is tiring for me, because that is where I put my energy into building them up, and helping them put their fears behind them.
In the next few days I found myself wishing that I could have that experience with everyone in that class: a conversation about their experience in the class, how it has changed their point of view, and just how they are doing in life. Then I came to the realization that I could! I couldn't make all of my students bump into me randomly on a bus, but I could make a 10 or 15 minute conversation mandatory. So I did.
I decided to make it a low stress assignment: I gave the students a few questions, and told them that this was a completion grade: show up on time, get full points. I figured some students might not prepare, but I was wrong. Some prepared more than others, of course, but they were all ready to talk with me. Some of the conversations were boring, some were interesting, and a small handful were reminders of why I love my job.
One question I asked was what was the most interesting or surprising thing you learned. In my experience, the majority of answers to a question like this is a recent lesson: the freshest memory is the most interesting, right? But I had answers that ranged through the semester, and almost every activity got mentioned.
These meetings also gave me a chance to encourage my students in a general way, as well as some specific ways: one student gave up an online business that she had started herself, making jewelry, to focus on being a student. I congratulated her on that decision, and told her that quitting is extremely underrated. I assured her that she could rebuild her online store in the future if she wished, and it would likely be even more successful. She told me that I was the only person who had ever told her that.
Another advantage of these meetings is that they helped me to better understand where my students were coming from. A general favorite for most students has been the section on dating and romance. I do a speed dating activity, and we talk about how to be better at dating and why we do it. Then one student told me that the romantic love section of my class was her least favorite, because she was not interested in having a boyfriend or husband. Now or ever.
I had not even considered students like that, even though I was aware that some people feel that way. (The only label I have for this is "aromantic," which my spell check is not pleased with. Even my brain has trouble with it, reading it as "aromatic." There's a pretty big gap between smelling good and not wanting to date.) So I decided to incorporate it into future versions of this class (which I will be doing in the next couple of weeks). I also told her that it was okay to be the way she was. And once again, I was the only person who had ever told her that.
Research shows, and everyone knows, that empty praise is not worth the breath you spend on it. Telling someone "Good job!" takes no thought, and does not build anyone up in a significant way. But when you get to know someone, and see something that no one else sees, that is a vulnerable time. That is when a few simple words of encouragement can make all the difference in the world.
That's why I like being a teacher.
