Be fully engaged and present
How often do we look up during office hours to see a troubled-looking student standing at the door? He needs help, but we are working against the clock to prepare the next lecture or reviewing materials to be discussed in an upcoming committee meeting. As I write, I’m seeing numerous student faces—some looking hurt, others angry, some seeming as though they just might implode. Our students experience strong emotions. These faces remind me that at times I have been abrupt, and at other times, I have been inviting.

Being fully engaged and present suggests that I stop what I am doing and give students my full attention. Glancing up from the computer while I continue to type or looking at the clock does not suggest that I am present. Being fully present means just that. For the next five or 30 minutes, I have nothing more pressing than the time I give to my student. Certainly, I may state that I have 10 minutes before my next appointment, but for those 10 minutes, my student’s voice is the only one sending messages to my brain. I sit with him, and I keep my thoughts on what he is saying. We may schedule another time for a deeper discussion, but the time I spend with him belongs to him alone.

Use silence to clear space
Let’s face it, we are teachers, and we like to talk. That’s how we make our living. We walk into our classes and begin class by opening our mouths. Our students benefit greatly from the knowledge we impart; it helps prepare them for their careers. However, important as our wisdom is, when students come to us with their misunderstandings, problems with assignment deadlines, or difficulties balancing family, work, and school, what they need from us, in addition to our presence, is our silence. I am not referring to the crossed-arms, closed-body postures that convey contempt and disdain. This silence is a quiet indicating that as teacher or advisor, I want to understand and will listen without interruption or assumption. I want my student to be heard without my butting in. The gift of silence is offered, and an invitation is given for the student’s voice to enter into the space created. By being quiet, I also become a thinking partner with my student as she begins to communicate her pressing concerns.

Refrain from giving advice
Being fully present and using silence to create space are both challenging; however, perhaps the most difficult behavior for teachers is allowing students to construct and choose their own solutions. We admonish our students to study, to read, to prepare, to work hard, to think critically, to be creative, and more. We are, after all, recognized experts. We know what it takes to learn and to succeed in life. As difficult as it may seem, we must let go of this proclivity to tell our students what they need to do. Most of the time, they probably know what they should do, but they need to be heard, not to hear us. When we engage with our presence and our silence, we can ask questions that invite students to think about the choices they make and the attention they pay to competing demands. By refraining from giving advice, we are suggesting that our students are fully capable of reaching conclusions that will lead them to their desired outcomes. And we know the advice they give themselves is probably more persuasive than the advice we offer.

Final thoughts
When we make ourselves fully present and attentive, use silence to create space, and encourage students to construct their own solutions, we are giving a gift that costs nothing but has great value. It is the gift that lets students know how much we care.

Dr. Patricia Kohler-Evans is an associate professor at University of Central Arkansas. Dr. Candice Dowd Barnes is an assistant professor at the University of Central Arkansas.

Reprinted from The Teaching Professor, 26.4 (2012): 5.

Teachers tend to focus on the instructional aspects of their role—they want their courses to have standards, to be well organized; they want their instruction to be clear and effective at stimulating student interest. Students agree that these aspects of instruction are important, but they consider the personal aspects of teaching just as important. They want teachers who welcome their questions, who acknowledge their input, and who are available—in short, teachers who establish rapport with individual students and the class as a whole. Said succinctly, caring is more important to students than it is to professors, according to a variety of research findings reviewed in this article.

But should faculty be concerned about what students consider important? Research findings say yes. One study cited reported that when instructor-student rapport increases, those increases are associated with greater student enjoyment of the class, improved attendance and attention, more study time devoted to the class, and more courses taken in that discipline. Another study documented that a professor’s positive attitude toward students accounted for 58 percent of the variability in the students’ motivation, 42 percent of the variability in course appreciation, and 60 percent of students’ attitude about the instructor. (p. 206)

Meyers addresses three faculty criticisms and cautions about caring, starting with “My students don’t appreciate how much I care.” The problem here, according to Meyers, is that faculty don’t always express their care in ways that students understand. Faculty express caring through their devotion to the instructional aspects of their role. They always come to class prepared. They devote time and energy to keeping current in their field. They spend countless hours reading and reviewing potential texts. Those commitments bespeak their care, but according to the research, those are not the behaviors students associate with caring. Research on something called “verbal immediacy” has identified a number of behaviors that do convey caring to students—things like using personal examples, asking questions and encouraging students to talk, using humor in class, addressing students by name, and many others listed on a table in the article—and Meyers recommends that faculty consider using more of these behaviors.

Some faculty are reluctant to express care for students because they don’t want to get too close to students. And Meyers agrees: “Faculty must maintain an awareness of interpersonal boundaries when creating supportive relationships with students.” (p. 207) It’s a question of finding an appropriate balance between caring for students and maintaining professional boundaries. Meyers offers this advice: “Effective, caring faculty members balance their connection with students by setting limits as needed, by enforcing classroom policies in consistent and equitable ways, and by maintaining democratic and respectful authority in the college classroom.” (p. 207)

And finally, there are faculty who believe “My job is to teach, not to care.” These faculty worry that caring compromises academic rigor and lowers standards. They think that caring means always being nice, never pushing students, and always avoiding criticism. But it’s not a case of either-or—caring or doing those things associated with the instructional role. Teachers should do both because students benefit enormously when they do. And caring benefits teachers as well. Research has documented that when faculty don’t care or fail to communicate their concern for students, students respond in kind. When students don’t care about the teacher, they are much more willing to disrupt the class and make learning more difficult for everyone.

This is a first-rate article that convincingly establishes the importance of caring in the college classroom. It ends with an interesting set of questions on the topic that would make for excellent discussion with colleagues.

Reference: Meyers, S.A. (2009). Do Your Students Care Whether You Care About Them? College Teaching, 57 (4), 205-210.

Reprinted from Caring for Students: How Important Is It? The Teaching Professor, 25.5 (2011): 5-6.

Contrary to what some in higher education believe, attending to students’ needs does not erode the process of higher learning; it enhances it. The collaboration of educator and student, who each bring varied insights and experience to the educational process, is unique to the learning environment. But within the student/teacher dynamic is the opportunity for faculty to wield significant influence in students’ perception that they are cared for by an institution that is responsive to their needs. Consider the customer service objectives outlined by the University of Texas at El Paso, which state:

In the classroom, on campus, and in the community, as UTEP representatives, we will:

• Interact with others respectfully and courteously.
• Listen carefully in an effort to understand others’ points of view.
• Be knowledgeable problem solvers.
• Take responsibility for UTEP’s continuous improvement.

These objectives do not suggest that students are “always right,” that their education is a commodity, or that faculty members are dedicated to pleasing them (and their parents). Instead, all members of the community are committed to ensuring that higher learning is a collaborative endeavor built on a foundation of respect, trust, and shared commitment to the values of education. Profound learning outcomes can emerge from such a framework.

While much of students’ “customer service” experience takes place in areas outside of the classroom, faculty can provide good academic service through a variety of mechanisms, most of which are simple and fairly intuitive. First, it’s important to clearly outline the objectives of the course in a manner that students understand. Spending time at the beginning of the course explaining and outlining the context of the objectives provides a framework for the semester’s activities, contributes to students’ understanding of how the course material supports the learning objectives, and reinforces how the course itself relates to their field of study. Further, a clear explanation helps students understand what they need to do in order to have a successful academic experience.

Throughout the semester, providing timely answers to students’ questions is an act of customer service. It’s certainly a challenge in a 24/7 digital environment to keep up with the demands for communication. However, little makes a student feel less valued than a significant delay in a response to questions. One way to manage the communication demands is to post clear policies on the syllabus, including a stand-alone FAQ page (I teach an online class with enrollment of up to 125, and without the FAQs, I’d be answering email all day, every day). Helping students find the information they need on their own is important, but if students have questions about the course material, it should be a priority to answer it as quickly as we can, even if we’re directing the student back to a course resource.

Regular feedback is another important academic customer service point. I am always surprised to hear from faculty who state that they can’t submit midterm grades because none of their assignments is due yet. For a variety of reasons, six weeks of instruction without the benefit of feedback is problematic. Even if course content and structure do not lend themselves to regularly graded assignments, it’s important for students to know whether or not they are successfully meeting course objectives. Regular feedback not only contributes to improved learning, it also mitigates any potential misunderstandings regarding student performance that could emerge later in the semester.

A commitment to good customer service is not antithetical to the values of higher education. We can provide good customer service without relegating ourselves to the ranks of knowledge brokers. Employing simple, intuitive support strategies in the classroom will enhance students’ learning and overall college experience.

Christine M. Nowik is the Assistant Dean of Student Success and Retention at Cedar Crest College.

I found that self-disclosure bridged the gap between the students and me and led to increased student engagement. In my case, I told them my educational history. I told the story about all of the failures, mishaps and bad decisions. I showed them the real me in a presentation accompanied with real photographs of key individuals in my life. My intentions were to let the students know that they can succeed, no matter how insurmountable the obstacles may seem. At the end of the story, I realized that my story had impacted the students. Further, grades increased in my courses by about 20% after the talk.

When I spoke, it was to a very attentive audience that seemed poised at the edges of their seats. No one was texting or doing anything disruptive. They found out their professor is a human. Not a robot.

What I shared was this: I went to college with the goal of becoming a medical doctor and majored in biology with a minor in chemistry. During my second year of college, I lost my academic scholarship because I made a “D” in a course in my major. In my junior year after meeting all the prerequisites, I was accepted into dental school. Upon arrival at dental school, I found out I was pregnant. During my first year of dental school, I gave birth to a daughter. I discovered after the first two years that I did not like dentistry as much as I thought I would. I dropped out of dental school and began working as a receptionist. Due to the input and influence of a mentor who had taught me biochemistry in dental school, I applied and was accepted to graduate school. Because of this chance I finally had the opportunity to follow the dream I had denied myself all along … to teach.

Graduate school was a very difficult time for me and being a mom did not make things any easier. After the first semester, I was placed on academic probation. At the end of the second year, I took the written qualifying exam and failed. The director of my program told me that he honestly did not think that I could complete the program. One year later, I retook the qualifying exam and passed. Two years after that, I received my PhD.

All of these experiences made me a better student. More importantly, these experiences make me a more empathetic and effective professor. As a result of having told my real story to my students, I have become a “mother of another color” to many of my students and I am very proud of this title.

Feedback from my self-disclosure was all positive. Here are just a few of the things students shared in response:

• I know you have to work hard to achieve your goals and now I know I can do it too.
• It let me know that that even though I may start off bad; I can still have a chance to be what I want to be.
• At times, i have been scared to ask you questions but from now on it won’t be a problem.
• I now realize you weren’t given anything; you earned it all.
• This talk makes me want to be like you in a sense because you were able to persevere.
• You seem more approachable now and I know that you are not perfect. Most professors make it seem like they are perfect and did excellent throughout their career.
• You are the best professor I have ever met in my life.

Being able to have an impact on students has been my goal from the beginning of my teaching career. I believe that my self-disclosure had a direct impact on my effectiveness as a professor.

Now it’s your turn. What are some ways you humanize yourself to help build rapport with students? Please share in the comment box.

Dr. Leslie Wooten-Blanks is an assistant professor in the department of biology at Claflin University.

Often it happens when two people are very much alike or have lots in common. That’s one of the reasons it isn’t always easy for professors to establish rapport with students—sometimes there’s a big age difference; others times it’s having few (if any) shared interests. However, there are good reasons for faculty to work on establishing rapport with students. The article referenced below lists outcomes, all established by research, that result when rapport is established.

Here’s a selection from the larger list that does seem particularly relevant and that is supported by some research involving teachers and students.

• Higher motivation—When students feel rapport with their teachers and feel that their teacher’s personalities are something like their own, motivation is higher.
• Increased comfort—When there is rapport, students tend to answer more freely and with a greater degree of frankness.
• Increased quality—In a degree program, when students feel rapport with faculty, their perceptions of the quality of that program increase.
• Satisfaction—Rapport leads to satisfaction—supported by much research, including research done in classrooms. When students report having rapport with the instructor, their satisfaction with the course increases.
• Enhanced communication—As rapport grows, so does understanding and comprehension. Teachers and students understand each other better when there is rapport between them.
• Trust—Sometimes trust is necessary for rapport to develop. But trust can also be an outcome. Once rapport has been established, trust between parties grows.

Rapport does not result in learning, but it certainly helps to create conditions conducive to learning—things like higher motivation, increased comfort, and enhanced communication. Teaching doesn’t always result in learning either, but, like rapport, it is one of those factors that can contribute positively to learning.

Five factors for building rapport
The researchers in this article queried business faculty about their perceptions of rapport—what must a teacher do to establish it with students? Five factors appeared almost twice as often as others.

1. Respect. Teachers and students must show respect for each other, for the learning process, and for the institution where it is occurring.
2. Approachability. Students have to feel comfortable coming to faculty and faculty must be willing to speak with students, after class, during office hours, via email, on campus.
3. Open communication. Faculty must be honest. There needs to be consistency between what faculty say and what they do.
4. Caring. Faculty must care about students; they must see and respond to them as individuals. They also need to care about learning and show that they want students to learn the material.
5. Positive attitude. Faculty should have a sense of humor and be open to points of view other than their own.

Rapport is not something developed by announcement. Rapport is developed by actions—it results from things teachers do. The good news, as demonstrated by the content of this article, is that we know empirically what teachers can do to establish rapport. The even better news is that the actions required aren’t all that difficult to execute.

Reference: Granitz, N. A., Koernig, S. K., and Harich, K. R. (2009). Now it’s personal: Antecedents and outcomes of rapport between business faculty and their students. Journal of Marketing Education, 31 (1), 52-65.

Reprinted from Rapport: Why Having It Makes a Difference, The Teaching Professor, volume 23, number 6, page 2.

While as teachers we may sometimes feel frustrated like Sisyphus whose fate was to continually push a huge boulder up a steep incline with no progress, such is not a satisfactory model for our teaching endeavors. And, although we might occasionally identify with Cassandra who always spoke the truth without any believers, associating our role with her is likewise unproductive. Obviously, some mythological characters are less positive than others. However, I would like to share a helpful one that works for me.

Ariadne is a mythological character who often influences my view of teaching. The daughter of Minos, king of Crete, Ariadne helped Theseus maneuver the palace labyrinth in order to slay the minotaur. She did so by giving him a ball of thread so that Theseus could find his way through the maze. In many ways the process of teaching/learning is like a maze. There are surprises, uncertainties, and dead-ends with getting lost a real possibility. Let’s briefly examine the behaviors of Ariadne that make her a promising lens for viewing our teaching role.

First, she developed a caring relationship with Theseus by wanting to be useful to him. Second, she gave him a valuable tool to be successful. By doing so, Ariadne served as a guide–Theseus still had to go into the maze and come back out again. She did not do the job for him. Finally, her actions modeled problem solving. Ariadne was willing to help Theseus “figure it out” by giving him the means to do so.

As teachers we can approach our role in a similar vein by creating relationships with our students based upon an ethic of caring and service, by equipping them with the knowledge and cognitive tools necessary to survive, and by focusing on the importance of engaging in problem solving.

Functioning as Ariadne in the classroom, we can give our students hints, warnings, prompts, and strategies to overcome learning obstacles. We can help them understand the context of situations through careful analysis. We can encourage grappling by how we pose questions and conduct class sessions. In short, we can shape our students’ orientation to solving problems by promoting an attitude of “let’s figure it out” together.

In the end Theseus abandoned Ariadne on another island. This was a sad part of the story. But as our students depart us, we should celebrate that they have become more independent and know better how to find their way in future learning encounters, i.e., how to safely make it through other mazes.

Patty H. Phelps, Ed.D. is a professor in the department of Teaching & Learning at the University of Central Arkansas.

Several weeks ago, a colleague rushed into my office. He was off to a noontime meeting but without lunch. At my coaxing, he decided to fix one of my dehydrated standby lunches of Thai noodles. I warned him that preparing the noodles involved multiple steps. I heard him reading the instructions out loud. “Step 1: Remove all contents from tray. Remove noodles from bag and place back into tray. Add enough boiling water to cover noodles. Secure lid to tray. Let stand for approximately 4 minutes.” At that point I remembered that I made a mistake the first time I prepared the Thai noodles. I interrupted my colleague and told him what I had done wrong. He nodded and continued to prepare the noodles. A few minutes later expletives emanated from near the microwave. I turned around to see my colleague making the same mistake — the very one I had just warned him about.

At that moment I realized that my colleague’s noodle-making experience was the perfect analogy for what we advocate in the classroom, learning by doing. Because I had made the exact same mistake, I blithely assumed that I could prevent the error by telling my colleague what to do. In fact, he needed to make the mistake in order to learn.

This learning by doing is an excellent example and extension of Dewey’s Experiential Learning Theory, which suggests that everything occurs in a social environment. Learning is a process that includes knowledge, as facilitated and organized by the instructor, as well as, students’ previous experiences and readiness. As educators, we have a responsibility to provide students an environment where they can learn by doing, and that includes giving them the opportunity to learn by making mistakes. It is true that experiential learning takes longer. I could have made lunch for my colleague without error and in less time. But the cost would have been his learning and I would have to fix his Thai noodles henceforth. When we work with students we should aspire to create “teachable moments.” Those moments rarely come from “telling” the student what to think or do, but they often emerge out of mistakes students have made.