Teaching is hard work and some teachers never grow to be anything better than mediocre. They do the bare minimum required and very little more. The great teachers, however, work tirelessly to create a challenging, nurturing environment for their students. Great teaching seems to have less to do with our knowledge and skills than with our attitude toward our students, our subject, and our work. Although this list is certainly not all-inclusive, I have narrowed down the many characteristics of a great teacher to those I have found to be the most essential, regardless of the age of the learner:

1. A great teacher respects students. In a great teacher’s classroom, each person’s ideas and opinions are valued. Students feel safe to express their feelings and learn to respect and listen to others. This teacher creates a welcoming learning environment for all students.

2. A great teacher creates a sense of community and belonging in the classroom. The mutual respect in this teacher’s classroom provides a supportive, collaborative environment. In this small community, there are rules to follow and jobs to be done and each student is aware that he or she is an important, integral part of the group. A great teacher lets students know that they can depend not only on her, but also on the entire class.

3. A great teacher is warm, accessible, enthusiastic and caring. This person is approachable, not only to students, but to everyone on campus. This is the teacher to whom students know they can go with any problems or concerns or even to share a funny story. Great teachers possess good listening skills and take time out of their way-too-busy schedules for anyone who needs them. If this teacher is having a bad day, no one ever knows—the teacher leaves personal baggage outside the school doors.

4. A great teacher sets high expectations for all students. This teacher realizes that the expectations she has for her students greatly affect their achievement; she knows that students generally give to teachers as much or as little as is expected of them.

5. A great teacher has his own love of learning and inspires students with his passion for education and for the course material. He constantly renews himself as a professional on his quest to provide students with the highest quality of education possible. This teacher has no fear of learning new teaching strategies or incorporating new technologies into lessons, and always seems to be the one who is willing to share what he’s learned with colleagues.

6. A great teacher is a skilled leader. Different from administrative leaders, effective teachers focus on shared decision-making and teamwork, as well as on community building. This great teacher conveys this sense of leadership to students by providing opportunities for each of them to assume leadership roles.

7. A great teacher can “shift-gears” and is flexible when a lesson isn’t working. This teacher assesses his teaching throughout the lessons and finds new ways to present material to make sure that every student understands the key concepts.

8. A great teacher collaborates with colleagues on an ongoing basis. Rather than thinking of herself as weak because she asks for suggestions or help, this teacher views collaboration as a way to learn from a fellow professional. A great teacher uses constructive criticism and advice as an opportunity to grow as an educator.

9. A great teacher maintains professionalism in all areas—from personal appearance to organizational skills and preparedness for each day. Her communication skills are exemplary, whether she is speaking with an administrator, one of her students or a colleague. The respect that the great teacher receives because of her professional manner is obvious to those around her.

While teaching is a gift that comes quite naturally for some, others have to work overtime to achieve great teacher status. Yet the payoff is enormous — for both you and your students. Imagine students thinking of you when they remember that great teacher they had in college!

Dr. Maria Orlando is a core faculty member in the doctoral Educational Leadership and Management Specialization at Capella University. She also serves as an adjunct professor at Lindenwood University in St. Charles, Missouri.

Among resources included in the article are summaries of seven websites that contain a range of materials on teaching philosophy statements, including definitions, suggested formats, writing exercises, sample statements, and rubrics that can be used to assess them. It also contains a list of questions that can be answered when writing about learning goals, teaching methods, assessment of student learning, and assessment of teaching.

Several writing exercises are proposed that would not only help candidates prepare statements that might stand out, but that are wonderful ways to deepen individual reflection about teaching and learning. For example, “Think about a moment in your classroom when you and the students were having a great time. Write about that ‘great moment’ using the following series of questions: What was the topic and activity during which this great moment happened? What was the goal of the activity? How did you structure the activity? What did students do during the activity? How could you demonstrate that the activity resulted in significant student learning? How does this great moment exemplify what you value about your discipline and your personal and instructional style?” (p. 140)

This is followed by the suggestion that you write about a not-so-great moment, responding to a similar set of prompts. Or you might start with a “story” that “refers to a pivotal moment, either in your own learning or in your teaching.” (p. 140) Finally, there’s a prompt that asks you to imagine that you are being interviewed for a magazine article about effective teachers. Here are some of the questions you can expect to be asked: “What is a ‘personal best’ achievement for you as a teacher during the past year? What of your worst qualities as a teacher would you throw away? If you wrote a book about teaching, what would the title be?” (p. 141)

They also identify four areas where most teaching philosophy statements could be improved. “Many early drafts of teaching philosophy statements lack concrete evidence of student learning and assessments of teaching.” (p. 142, bold added) Here writers need to either include or write about those classroom artifacts and evidence that constitute proof of learning and good teaching.

For new teachers or teachers without much experience, it can be challenging to write about the breadth and depth of teaching experience. But if different courses and different student populations have been taught, those should be described. And whatever the teaching experience, writers can explain how an experience in one instructional setting would inform what they would do in a different setting.

The authors also note that early drafts of teaching philosophy statements tend to be rather generic. They read as though they could have been written by any teacher. They contain statements where the teachers indicate that they aspire to develop critical-thinking skills or plan to use active learning. “Careful consideration of vague terms not only motivates writers to remove jargon and buzzwords but also helps them balance philosophy and methodology in their teaching philosophy statements.” (p. 142) And finally, statements often do not effectively value teaching and learning. They make bland or empty statements that readers have heard and read many times before. “I am passionate about students’ learning.” “To help writers express their enthusiasm for both their discipline and sharing it with others, we ask them about their own pathways as learners and subsequently as teachers.” (p. 142) If you work with those preparing teaching philosophy statements or if deepening and enlarging yours would benefit you and better impress readers of your statement, this article contains a first-rate collection of resources.

Reference: Kearns, K. D. and Sullivan, C. S. (2011). Resources and practices to help graduate students and postdoctoral fellows write statements of teaching philosophy. Advances in Physiology Education, 35 (1), 136-145.

Excerpted from Writing Better Teaching Philosophy Statements, The Teaching Professor, 25.10 (2011): 6.

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Today, students with disabilities, particularly a learning disability, are increasingly common on college campuses. Both the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 and its Amendments of 2008 require colleges to provide reasonable accommodations. As a professor at a community college, I have worked with many students with learning disabilities of some form. Some of these students have openly communicated their issues to me on the first day and others have come to me when their grades started slipping. I, however, recently learned a valuable lesson on separating the heart and mind in the classroom when it comes to helping students with disabilities reach their educational goals.

As the mother of a child with special needs, I do not have lower expectations for my child. Yet I understand that he may have to take some different paths, perhaps windier, to achieve the goals of other children his age. That being said, I have always prided my teaching philosophy for special needs students as being one of understanding and going the extra mile.

I recently had a student who was very bright. He presented me with a note on the first day of class describing his disability, but gave no specifications on learning or assessment. I found he was able to communicate the correct answers in class and participate in open discussions. In addition, he was always well prepared and timely with his assignments. He did, however, have some test-taking issues so we overcame these issues, at my suggestion, with oral tests before or after class. I also went over his homework with him and emailed him mid-week to be sure he was on task. One evening when I was entering the building, his father was waiting to speak with me. I expected that he was there to thank me for the extra attention I was giving his son. On the contrary, he was frustrated and felt that I was coddling his son. He explained that while his son did need some test-taking accommodations, he needed to learn what it was truly like to be a college student. I wasn’t doing him any favors making the experience “easier” for him, the father said.

Initially, I was shocked, then ashamed. Upon further reflection I believe that I was projecting my personal feelings of wanting my own child to succeed onto this student. I was coddling him, which is ironic because I push my son in all that he does. Isn’t that our purpose as parents and educators to push our children to move beyond their comfort zones so they can achieve more? I learned a valuable lesson: we are not doing our students any favors by helping them when they truly don’t need it. Certainly we need to provide reasonable accommodations to the students who need them, but perhaps we would better serve all of our students if we give them the opportunity to try, even struggle a bit, and figure things out on their own.

As the butterfly gains its strength from beating its wings against the chrysalis, some of our students may need to struggle in order to find their place in higher education. With nearly 170 college programs created for special needs students, their futures are looking much brighter (Shah, 2011).

Shah, N. (2011). Postsecondary options expanding. Education Week. 31 (14), 14-15. Retrieved from http://www.edweek.org/ew/articles/2011/12/14/14disabled_ep.h31.html

Melissa Street-Caulder is an adjunct professor at Delaware County Community College.

In a previous issue of The Teaching Professor (March 2010), Kirin Dosanjh Zucker provided a number of helpful suggestions for “Keeping Office Hours ‘Real’ in the Facebook Age.” In a similar vein, we wanted to share ideas culled from our research on students’ perspectives on out-of-class communication. We’ve done in-depth interviews with a diverse group of 33 students. The finding that has most impressed us we already knew, but our data has provided an important reminder: in-class communication sets the stage for out-of-class communication. If you are knowledgeable, convey caring for students, and announce your availability to assist, then students are more likely to approach you outside of class. Conversely, if you appear unprofessional in the classroom, convey apathy or disdain for students, and do not encourage interpersonal contact, students are more likely to avoid you outside of class.

Following are 10 specific strategies that the students we interviewed identified as being particularly effective for encouraging out-of-class contact with professors.

1. Be there for office hours, keep scheduled appointments, and make time for students when they need additional help.
2. Arrive at class early and stay after class (even if it’s in the hallway) to accommodate easy contact. This is the time when students with questions are most likely to ask them.
3. Include an invitation in the syllabus to visit during office hours. Give students a “by appointment” option, since your set office hours may conflict with their class or work schedules.
4. Tell students on the first day of class and regularly thereafter that you are available for extra help during office hours or at a time convenient for them. Explain that you enjoy talking with students, particularly about the course, current research, and your discipline.
5. Use email to connect socially and academically. In addition to prompt, brief responses, include a friendly opening and closing. Send periodic emails to the class to offer assistance on projects as they progress through the semester.
6. Write your email and office hours on the board regularly, maybe even every class session at the beginning of the course. Say more times than you think necessary that you welcome questions, comments, and the chance to interact with students.
7. Work to learn students’ names—sooner rather than later. Recognize and greet students when you see them in the hallways or around campus. Smiles and waves are also appreciated.
8. Provide specific feedback on course projects, and allow opportunities for revisions prior to assigning a final grade on major projects. Offer tutorials during office hours and encourage small groups of students to attend.
9. Schedule midterm consultations with each student (maybe even make them mandatory) if not many students are taking advantage of your office hours. Use these meetings to review the students’ progress in the course, provide assistance as needed, and help with goal setting for the rest of the course.
10. Provide your home phone number or cell phone number in case students run into “emergencies.” Although students most likely will never call you, they appreciate this caring gesture and invitation to accessibility.

In sum, students do pay attention to those classroom behaviors that convey we care. If we vigilantly maintain our office hours and employ the strategies recommended by these students, then we can more actively engage students in academic discourse, facilitate a deeper understanding of our fields and their associated professions, and serve as better advisors and mentors. Given what positive interpersonal communication does for students and for us, it is certainly worth the effort.

Dr. Bonnie Farley-Lucas is professor in the communications department at Southern Connecticut State University. Dr. Margaret Sargent is an associate chair and associate professor in the communications department at Southern Connecticut State University.

Reprinted from “Enhancing Out-of-Class Communication: Students’ Top 10 Suggestions.” The Teaching Professor, 24.10 (2010): 7.

Taking that mindset into the classroom, I strove for 100% student satisfaction – within the confines of academic integrity, of course – and achieved great results. It turns out, oddly enough, that students love feeling important, valued, respected, and honored. And through the resulting faculty-student connection, students willingly transform into vessels of learning.

My teaching career has not always been rosy, however. After spending months with mini-demons from a special place in Hell, though they claimed to be from behavioral remediation, I grew jaded, losing my respect for students and not coincidentally my effectiveness as a teacher.

Years passed before a colleague helped me rediscover that our attitude toward students makes all the difference. Back on the path to student satisfaction and effective teaching, I constantly ask myself what students really want from me.

Conveniently, I was able to watch faculty from the Memorial University of Newfoundland present a study on Students’ Perceptions of Effective Teaching in Higher Education at Wisconsin’s 26th Annual Distance Teaching and Learning Conference. Researchers had asked their students this question: What characteristics are essential for effective teaching from the student perspective? Analyzing and combining reasonably synonymous characteristics, researchers isolated the top nine for online and for face-to-face students.

ONLINE	FACE-TO-FACE
1. Respectful	1. Respectful
2. Responsive	2. Knowledgeable
3. Knowledgeable	3. Approachable
4. Approachable	4. Engaging
5. Communicative	5. Communicative
6. Organized	6. Organized
7. Engaging	7. Responsive
8. Professional	8. Professional
9. Humorous	9. Humorous

Respect is numero uno. How about that? More important than knowledge (than knowledge!!!) and the ability to communicate and engage, respect dominates all other characteristics in effective teaching, according to students. Faculty spend, on average, 22 years acquiring enough knowledge to teach at the university level. How much time do we spend on respect?

Students should be shown all the respect we can muster. We need to regularly analyze and question our attitudes. We need to empathize with students by imagining role reversals and by believing in them whenever possible. We need to humble ourselves so that even the least are worthy of our attention and admiration.

The same top nine characteristics are common between online and face-to-face students, with only the order for the two bolded characteristics changing. Responsiveness is more highly valued online, moving five positions. This jump explains why classroom faculty new to e-learning don’t always realize the urgency in responding to email and discussion posts. These faculty have been operating under a paradigm in which responsiveness is not so critical – a paradigm that needs to shift for online learning.

The remaining characteristics warrant a more thorough examination than this article provides. I challenge you to explore ways of fostering all nine characteristics.

Ellen Smyth is an instructor in the Mathematics Department at Austin Peay State University at Fort Campbell.

Reference:
Delaney, J.G., Johnson, A.N., Johnson, T.D., & Treslan, D.L. (2010). Students’ Perceptions of Effective Teaching in Higher Education. St. John’s, NL: Distance Education and Learning Technologies.

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Despite this large database, researchers continue to explore this issue and, surprisingly, find new groups to ask and new ways to analyze the results. Even more amazing is how much overlap and consistency there is across these many studies, and the study we’re about to highlight here is no exception. The researchers studied a group of 35 faculty members who had received a Presidential Teaching Award at a public university in the Midwest. To be considered for the award, teachers had to write a 1,500-word essay describing their teaching philosophies and teaching goals. Using a qualitative methodology (hermeneutics), researchers analyzed these statements with the goal of identifying the factors that made these teachers successful. The researchers found four categories of comments characteristic of all these award-winning teachers.

1. Presence – “The term presence for this study is defined as a deeper level of awareness that allows thoughts, feelings, and actions to be known, developed, and harmonized within. Presence is also the essence of a relationship and of interpersonal communication.” (p. 13) Illustrating this particular category were comments in the essays indicating how important it is for teachers to get to know their students. “The classroom should not be a sea of faceless forms,” writes one teacher. (p. 13) Another frequent theme in this category related to the importance of caring for students. “By caring for my students, I mean that I am genuinely interested in my students’ learning and understanding the course material, and in making a significant contribution to the success of their careers.” (p. 14)

2. Promotion of learning – These teachers also wrote of the importance of student learning and their roles in promoting it. They held their students and themselves to high standards, seeing students’ work in their courses and programs as preparation for lifelong learning. They also wrote of the need for students to do more than just memorize material. “Mere possession of scientific knowledge without the ability to apply it is of limited value in nursing practice,” wrote one nurse educator. (p. 14) Equally important was their shared view that promoting learning goes beyond content acquisition. Education is also about personal development, and teachers have a role in promoting that kind of learning as well.

3. Teachers as learners – These exemplary teachers described themselves as learners, each making it a priority to keep their teaching current. “As teachers, we must continue to re-engineer our curriculum, experiment with new and different methods of delivering course content, and bring emerging technologies into our classrooms.” (p. 15) These teachers valued opportunities to revise course content, to teach new courses, and to work on degree-program curricula.

4. Enthusiasm – “Effective teaching presupposes a command of the material and facility in communicating it with clarity, grace, fairness, and humor. But most of all it supposes enthusiasm.” (p. 15) This enthusiasm starts with a love of the content, but it goes beyond that and includes a genuine love of teaching and a passion for students and their learning. “I am also concerned that my students develop a passion for learning that goes on well after the course has ended.” (p. 15)

In their conclusion, these researchers note that “there is no formula for successful teaching. Each professor is unique and has an individual educational philosophy and teaching goals.” (p. 16) Even so, good teachers share common commitments and characteristics—they do in this study and have done so in many others as well.

Reference: Rossett, J. and Fox, P. G. (2009). Factors related to successful teaching by outstanding professors: An interpretive study. Journal of Nursing Education, 48 (1), 11-16.

Excerpted from “Qualities of Successful Teaching.” The Teaching Professor, 24.1 (2010): 6.

As we close out this semester, I thought we’d revisit a familiar metaphor: the teacher as guide, in this case, mountain guide. I never thought much about this metaphor or saw its potential richness until I read the essay referenced below. It’s an old piece, but many of the essay’s comparisons have stayed with me across the years.

“The mountain guide, like the true teacher, has a quiet authority. He or she engenders trust and confidence so that one is willing to join the endeavor. The guide accepts his leadership role, yet recognizes that success … depends on close cooperation and active participation of each member of the group. He has crossed the terrain before and is familiar with the landmarks, but each trip is new and generates its own anxiety and excitement.”

Author Nancy K. Hill, then a professor of humanities at the University of Colorado at Boulder, describes how the rope links those who climb so that they may assist each other. But the rope also ties those it connects to risk and vulnerability. I like how this metaphor gets at the role of teacher who is there to guide, to protect, and to encourage, but not to climb for those who ascend to the peak. They must do the climbing themselves just as students must do the learning themselves. But it’s Hill closing paragraph that I know by heart and frequently use during workshops with faculty.

“The teacher is not a pleader, not a performer, not a huckster, but a confident, exuberant guide on expeditions of shared responsibility into the most exciting and least-understood terrain on earth—the mind itself.”

Reference: Hill, Nancy K. “Scaling the Heights: The Teacher as Mountaineer.” The Chronicle of Higher Education, June 16, 1980, p. 48.

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.

• Take a policy—maybe yours or maybe somebody else’s. It might be a participation policy, an attendance policy, the rules about arriving late and leaving early, an academic integrity policy or something else. Give the policy to a trusted colleague and ask him or her to explore with you the assumptions and premises on which the policy rests. If a teacher uses this policy, what does that teacher believe about teaching, learning, and students? You can undertake this analysis yourself, but it’s better to do this looking with somebody else: four eyes will see more than two.

• Take the student perspective—you were once one and probably have some memories associated with the experience. Look at a syllabus, again it can be your own, but it’s probably better to look at somebody else’s and even more useful to look at one from a course with content you’d have to learn. Assume the syllabus is all you have. What would you conclude about the course and the instructor based on it? Be sure you can point to specifics in the syllabus that lend credence to your conclusions.

• Writing your teaching philosophy can seem like a daunting task. Could you instead identify three or four basic, bedrock beliefs you have about teaching? I’d write them out as simple declarative statements. Then consider your practice and write three examples of things you do when you teach that illustrate (or operationalize) that belief. Use this opportunity to identify other things you do that have nothing to do with any of these statements? What beliefs are they resting on? Here as well, it makes sense to let a trusted colleague “check” your work.

• Do you have a favorite teaching story? Maybe it’s about your favorite teacher or some dreadful mistake you made when you first started or about this truly amazing student. It’s a story you hear yourself telling often. Never mind the point of the story, which you probably know quite well. Instead ponder this: what does this story tell you about the teacher who tells it? Does it say something about what she thinks is important? Does it reflect something about her as a student?

Be welcome to use the comment feature to add your suggestions. We’re looking for ways that get us seeing connections or the lack of them between teaching beliefs and practices.

That quote comes closer than anything I’ve read in a long time at getting at what happens when the espoused teaching philosophy is not the one demonstrated in daily instruction. It is not only possible, but regularly happens, that people believe one thing and do something quite different. Everybody knows that smoking is harmful and texting while driving is dangerous, but some people still do both. The contradictions between beliefs and behaviors in teaching tend to be less obvious, especially to the teacher involved. For example, most teachers believe that they need to test those higher-order thinking skills, not the rote acquisition of factual details. But analysis after analysis of exam questions shows that the majority focus on facts. Most teachers also believe in the value of participation—that it engages students, develops important communication skills, and provides valuable feedback. But formal studies and informal classroom observations document that little time is devoted to student interaction in many classrooms.

But here’s the question I’ve been wondering about: Does it matter if teachers believe one thing and do another? In the examples above it matters because they don’t write good test questions or effectively involve students in discussion. But does it matter beyond that? I think it does. The disconnects powerfully motivate change. I know I shouldn’t text and drive. When I do I feel guilty, I experience dissonance. Sometimes it’s strong enough to make me get off the road. Once aware that an action in the classroom compromises something one espouses to believe, it’s hard to continue without at least some discomfort.

But this motivator only works if the teacher is aware of the contradiction. Not being aware becomes symptomatic of another problem—the lack of critical reflection, serious thinking about beliefs or practice or both. And you don’t grow as a teacher if you aren’t regularly subjecting your practice and your philosophy to thoughtful analysis. The authors of this article say that, too. “A fundamental goal for every educator should be to grow continually as a teaching professional. Such instructional growth requires hard work and commitment. Specifically, serious growth requires an educator to engage regularly in an objective self-examination of his or her instructional beliefs and behaviors.” (p.183)

Reference: Titus, P. A. and Gremler, D. D. (2010). Guiding reflective practice: An auditing framework to assess teaching philosophy and style. Journal of Marketing Education, 32 (2), 82-196.

Teaching philosophy statements are narrative descriptions of “one’s conception of teaching, including the rationale for one’s teaching methods. It is seen as a place to voice holistic views of the teaching process, including one’s thoughts about the definitions and interaction between learning and teaching, perceptions of the teacher’s and student’s roles, and the goals and values of education.” (p. 100)

Preparing a teaching philosophy statement can effectively promote the ongoing growth and development of teachers. Authors Beatty, Leigh, and Dean (reference below) explain why. “The process of reflection required to create and periodically revise a statement is as important as, and sometimes more important than, the actual content of the end-product statement.” (p. 100) Some of that growth benefit is lost when teaching philosophy statements are prepared for a venue in which the teacher is being judged. Then there is motivation to prepare a “correct” or “impressive” statement as opposed to one truly reflective of what the teacher believes. However, that is not the concern of these authors.

They are concerned that “philosophy” is often left out of these statements or is described with widely used buzzwords that faculty assume everyone defines the same way. Even though a teaching philosophy statement is a very personal expression reflecting a teacher’s identity, these statements do share common origins. “The building blocks for these personal statements are drawn from the lexicon of basic educational philosophies, which are shared among the community of teachers.” (p. 105)

In the first of two articles by these authors, five philosophies of education are succinctly and clearly highlighted: idealism, realism, pragmatism, existentialism, and critical theory. The review shows with concrete examples how these various philosophies result in very different beliefs and approaches to education. In the second article, the authors propose a card-sorting activity that faculty can use to start seeing how their beliefs about education connect with these fundamental philosophies of education. A set of cards for the exercise can be obtained online—a Web address is included in the article. The exercise can be completed by an individual or a small group, or in a workshop setting.

The authors note there is a benefit of doing the activity with others, because the process of verbalizing beliefs and hearing others do the same often makes those beliefs and their implications more clearly understood. And there is another benefit: “When each faculty member makes his or her teaching philosophy statement available for public discussion, it becomes possible to examine common ground and differences in philosophy across faculty in a department or college or across institutions.” (p. 112) These exchanges do need to occur in a climate of open inquiry. The objective is not to prefer one philosophy over another or attempt to convert those holding one set of views to another. “Because one’s teaching philosophy is such a core element of one’s identity as a teacher, direct criticism of one’s teaching philosophy is akin to a direct assault on the self and will shut down any kind of learning dialogue.” (p. 112)

With a philosophy in hand, the next step is to look at the alignment between these expressed beliefs and the teaching practices that occur in the classroom. The authors suggest that the course syllabus is the best place to look for this alignment. “Choices about assignments and projects, testing, and classroom dynamics should ideally be consistent with elements of one’s teaching philosophy. Philosophical views come into play as teachers cope with cases of academic dishonesty, imploding student teams, critical classroom incidents, and negative feedback on their teaching.” (p. 111)

Both of these articles show how preparing and regularly revising teaching philosophy statements provide important growth opportunities for teachers. They describe a process that can make preparing such a statement a challenging and rewarding intellectual endeavor, a process that puts the philosophy back into teaching philosophy statements. Both articles are another great illustration of really outstanding pedagogical scholarship done within the boundaries of a discipline but with relevance to every discipline. They are two of the most thought-provoking, informative, and useful articles I have read on teaching philosophy statements.

References:
Beatty, J. E., Leigh, J. S. A., and Dean, K. L. (2009). Philosophy rediscovered: Exploring the connections between teaching philosophies, educational philosophies, and philosophy. Journal of Management Education, 33 (1), 99-114.

Beatty, J. E., Leigh, J. S. A., and Dean, K. L. (2009). Finding our roots: An exercise for creating a personal teaching philosophy statement. Journal of Management Education, 33 (1), 115-130.

Reprinted from The Teaching Professor, June-July 2009.

Two. Good teaching is about substance and treating students as consumers of knowledge. It’s about doing your best to keep on top of your field, reading sources, inside and outside of your areas of expertise, and being at the leading edge as often as possible. But knowledge is not confined to scholarly journals. Good teaching is also about bridging the gap between theory and practice. It’s about leaving the ivory tower and immersing oneself in the field in talking to, consulting with, and assisting practitioners and liaising with their communities.

Three. Good teaching is about listening, questioning, being responsive and remembering that each student and class is different. It’s about eliciting responses and developing the oral communication skills of the quiet students. It’s about pushing students to excel and at the same time it’s about being human, respecting others and being professional at all times.

Four. Good teaching is about not always having a fixed agenda and being rigid, but being flexible, fluid, experimenting, and having the confidence to react and adjust to changing circumstances. It’s about getting only 10 percent of what you wanted to do in a class done and still feeling good. It’s about deviating from the course syllabus or lecture schedule easily when there is more and better learning elsewhere. Good teaching is about the creative balance between being an authoritarian dictator on the one hand and a push-over on the other. Good teachers migrate between these poles at all times depending on the circumstances. They know where they need to be and when.

Five. Good teaching is also about style. Should good teaching be entertaining? You bet! Does this mean that it lacks in substance? Not a chance! Effective teaching is not about being locked with both hands glued to a podium or having your eyes fixated on a slide projector while you drone on. Good teachers work the room and every student in it. They realize that they are the conductors and that the class is their orchestra. All students play different instruments and at varying proficiencies. A teacher’s job is to develop skills and make these instruments come to life as a coherent whole to make music.

Six. And this is very important, good teaching is about humor. It’s about being self-deprecating and not taking yourself too seriously. It’s often about making innocuous jokes, mostly at your own expense, so that the ice breaks and students learn in a more relaxed atmosphere where you, like them, are human with your own share of faults and shortcomings.

Seven. Good teaching is about caring, nurturing and developing minds and talents. It’s about devoting time, often invisible, to every student. It’s also about the thankless hours of grading, designing or redesigning courses and preparing materials to still further enhance instruction.

Eight. Good teaching is supported by strong and visionary leadership, and very tangible institutional support—resources, personnel, and funds. Good teaching is continually reinforced by an overarching vision that transcends the entire organization—from full professors to part-time instructors—and is reflected in what is said, but more importantly by what is done.

Nine. Good teaching is about mentoring between senior and junior faculty, teamwork, and being recognized and promoted by one’s peers. Effective teaching should also be rewarded and poor teaching needs to be remedied through training and development programs.

Ten. At the end of the day, good teaching is about having fun, experiencing pleasure and intrinsic rewards … like locking eyes with a student in the back row and seeing the synapses and neurons connecting, thoughts being formed, the person becoming better, and a smile cracking across a face as learning all of a sudden happens. It’s about the former student who says your course changed her life. It’s about another telling you that your course was the best one he’s ever taken. Good teachers practice their craft not for the money or because they have to, but because they truly enjoy it and because they want to. Good teachers couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Dr. Richard W. Leblanc is an associate professor at York University in Toronto. Contact him at rleblanc@yorku.ca.

Reprinted from The Teaching Professor, Vol. 12, no. 6.

Over the years my approach has changed. I started making progress once I realized that a brain alone was not enough. To teach well I also needed a heart and courage. I learned to be comfortable just being myself. I no longer used the podium and came to class with a one-page plan. I lectured less and students talked more. I invested more of myself in teaching. Let me share how I reached this point.

As I’ve developed as teacher, my attention shifted from self to students. Although this is a natural progression for teachers, it is not automatic. Some teachers remain the focal point of the learning process. This transfer of focus has been the impetus for changing how I teach. In planning for classes now, I continually ask how I can get students out of the stands and onto the field. This means I design simulations to highlight important information and processes, create games to explain content, and use small-group activities to engage students. I want my students to grasp concepts, and being in an active role helps them do that.

Placing students in the center of the teaching-learning environment requires that teachers have a different attitude and a new way of relating to students. Effective teachers are comfortable with both the cognitive and affective dimensions of teaching. Achieving more genuine relationships means being available to students, being glad to be in class with them, sharing with them what’s happening in our lives that is relevant, and investing the time it takes to prepare meaningful activities.

As a college teacher, I see my role as one of enabling others to become their best. I have come to realize that it is not so much what students know as what they can do. Likewise, teaching is not about what I know but what I enable others to do. Thus, I have changed the ways in which I teach to build students’ capacities. The critical question now is: “How can students show their understanding?” Finding ways to allow such student demonstrations influences my choice of course activities and assessments.

Finally, I want students to know that I reflect on what I do. I respond to their feedback; I talk about my mistakes in teaching. I agree with Parker Palmer when he says that “…teaching is a daily exercise in vulnerability.” Because of this personal exposure, teaching demands courage and honesty. It is vital to view the process of teaching as a developmental journey and to share the belief that we have not “arrived” in the practice of our craft. In this way we present ourselves as more approachable; our arrogance (perceived or real) thus declines. Students become more accepting of us.

One’s transformation as a teacher should not be a one-time event but a continual process that spans the career. Focusing on students, building their capabilities, and examining our own practice can transform our teaching and students’ learning. The evolving nature of becoming a teacher definitely makes the journey more enjoyable.

Patricia H. Phelps, EdD, is a professor in the Department of Teaching and Learning at the University of Central Arkansas.

Excerpted from Teaching Transformation, December 2008, The Teaching Professor.

A lot of books in my teaching library are now old; I’ve been collecting them for many years now. But I’m discovering there’s a timelessness to a lot of material on teaching—so much research has a really short shelf life but an instructional insight, or an approach (new if you haven’t tried it) can be just what you need. Its value is not compromised by the fact that somebody recommended it 25 years ago.

Part of what gives Brookfield’s work that timelessness is the power of his writing. I could cover my bulletin board with his quotes. Savor this one: “Forget Robert Donat or Peter O’Toole in Goodbye Mr. Chips, Sidney Poitier in To Sir with Love, Edward James Olmos in Stand and Deliver, Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society, Jon Voight in Conrack, Richard Dreyfuss in Mr. Holland’s Opus, Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds, or Kevin Kline in The Emperor’s Club. These are excellent fictional portrayals of powerful individuals whose personal authenticity and pedagogic brilliance illuminate the mediocrity surrounding them. But they are bad role models (at least for me). Teaching is not about charismatically charged individuals using the sheer force of their characters and personalities to wreak lifelong transformations in students’ lives. It’s about finding ways to promote the day-to-day, incremental gains that students make as they try to understand ideas, grasp concepts, assimilate knowledge and develop new skills. All the small things you do to make this happen for students represent the real story of teaching. Helping learning is what makes you truly heroic.” (p. 278)

Reference: Brookfield, S. D. (2006). The Skillful Teacher: On Technique, Trust, and Responsiveness in the Classroom. 2^nd ed. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

The teacher midwife is there at the birth of learning. She has attended many other births, been with many other students as they have gone through the arduous process of learning. It is a joyful, exciting event, but not without pain—sometimes the pain is long and intense, causing the learner to despair and lose hope. But the midwife understands. She knows that sometimes progress is slow. She also knows how much more pain lies ahead and what the learner might try to ease the discomfort and expedite the process. The midwife offers encouragement; her presence is reassuring.

Although most births are similar, no two are identical, in the same way that student learning follows patterns but is always unique. Sometimes problems arise. The midwife knows what to do. She is prepared, not with a script, but with knowledge, a wealth of previous experience, and resources she can summon. It is when problems emerge that the midwife’s presence is most needed and appreciated.

The birthing event joins midwife and mother in a shared quest. Midwives are not the ones giving birth any more than teachers are there to do the learning for a student. What the student is struggling to learn the teacher already knows. But midwives still struggle. They strive to figure out the best way to help, support, guide, and encourage the mother. Birth and learning require both teacher and mother to expend effort. They work together, but they tackle the problem in different ways.

When the understanding does finally arrive, credit for having given birth goes to the learner. Just like the midwife’s, the teacher’s job now is to share the joy and wonder. I once heard a midwife say, “I’ve lost track how many births I’ve attended, but I know that when it’s over and the babe is there in the mother’s arms, my heart still leaps for joy.” That’s so much like teachers who savor those moments when understanding settles over a student—it is as if the light of a new day has dawned.

Do you have a favorite metaphor for teaching? Please share it in the comment box.

Excerpted from The Teacher Midwife, The Teaching Professor, January 2008.

I still vividly recall the first day I ever taught a class. It was August 1991, and I was a graduate student. Sitting on some steps just outside of the classroom building, I was literally trembling with worry. Would 22 freshmen really believe I had anything worthwhile to say? Could I convince them of the content’s value? Would I be able to maintain control of the class? On that day, and for many semesters to come, I held very closely to my prearranged lesson plan, rarely loosening my grip on the reins for fear that otherwise I wouldn’t be able to accomplish the goals that my department and I myself had set. My mistake was in believing that only one path, that is, the narrow path revealed by my lesson plans, would lead my students to those goals. The lesson was too much with me.

In February 2008, I had two of the best classes I have ever had, and their success had next to nothing to do with my lesson plan for those days. My students had read John Milton’s Areopagitica, and my intention was to use the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution as the paradigm for a discussion of Milton’s arguments for freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom of the press. I introduced this scheme, and the first class proceeded (with modest success) with the students, for some little time, analyzing Areopagitica along this line.

As the discussion continued, however, Milton’s unorthodox opinion of the transgression of Adam and Eve emerged from the text. I hadn’t planned to make too much of this point, but I quickly noticed a change in the tenor of the class as it was broached. The students were genuinely interested in what Milton had to say on this point.

I let go of the reins.

The ensuing discussion, which continued from one class into the next, was one of the most vibrant in which I have ever participated. More important, the students, recognizing Milton’s connection between humans’ ability to use reason and Adam and Eve’s transgression, almost unwittingly got to the foundation of his arguments for freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom of the press. In other words, they achieved the desired goal by walking a path very different from the one provided by my lesson plan.

During my 17 years of teaching, I have tried to make myself more aware of the fact that a lesson plan is a tool, not an end in itself. A teacher has to be willing to let a class develop organically because classes are organic. Every class is different, and the teacher has to listen to know when an opportunity for a teaching moment has arisen, for such moments are more valuable than whole semesters of rote.

John A. Dern, Intellectual Heritage Program, Temple University.

Excerpted from The Lesson is Too Much with Us: Recognizing Teaching Moments, The Teaching Professor, October 2008.

What I’d like to share here is a wonderful quote found in the article. Author (and teacher) Mark Cohan is writing about how transmission of knowledge is such a small part of teaching. Here’s how it describes the other parts. “Beyond it, there are the intricacies of tone, presence, and demeanor that make up our in-class performance. There is coaching and coaxing, as we try to convey to students the full extent of their abilities. There is class management—the ways we foster and negotiate student-to-student interactions, positive and negative. And there is role modeling, the picture we give students of what constitutes an educator and a professional in our field. All of these elements can be molded and refined by learning about pedagogical practices. But they emerge from who we are and transforming them means transforming ourselves.” (p. 36)

Cohan’s piece explores how much teaching arises from and is linked to personhood. Changes in pedagogical practice may transform what happens in our classroom, but they may also end up changing who we are and how we orient to teaching.

Reference: Cohan, M. (2009). Bad apple: The social production and subsequent reeducation of a bad teacher. Change, (November/December), 32-36.

It is equally important that candidates be able to discuss how they would apply their written philosophy in different teaching situations such as in the lab, an introductory course, or a senior seminar. The importance of the philosophy statement and of teaching itself is reinforced when candidates are asked to discuss them with those conducting the interview.

As for what a new faculty member should put in the teaching philosophy statement being used as part of an application packet, the author makes a number of recommendations. Along with ideas about how students learn, those activities that the candidate believes promote learning, some recognition of variations in approaches to learning, and a discussion of factors related to learning (such as motivation) should be included.

Also important is the kind of feedback that will be provided to students, and how their learning will be assessed. Content that relates to teaching, including expectations for students, preferred learning environments, favored instructional methods, and the nature of relationships with students that foster learning, should be discussed.

The author recommends that teaching philosophy statements include references so that the candidate can demonstrate a knowledge of literature relevant to college-level teaching and learning. The philosophy statement should show that the candidate is interested in teaching and expects to grow and develop further as a teacher.

Teaching continues to be an important (if not the most important) part of virtually all academic positions. As the author points out, search committees often are more comfortable assessing the research history and potential of candidates than they are evaluating what kind of teacher the candidate will be. Careful analysis of a teaching philosophy statement, coupled with follow-up questions on its content, can provide much revealing information about a candidate’s potential. To ensure that all candidates start from the same place, it is appropriate to provide a list of areas that review committees would like the teaching philosophy statement to address.

The article referenced below proposes a structure and a series of questions that can be used as a starting place. It also contains a link to a sample philosophy statement that follows the proposed structure. If an institution wants to show a candidate that it takes teaching seriously, one of the best times to convey that message is during the interview process.

Reference: Eierman, R.J. (2008). The teaching philosophy statement: Purposes and organizational structure. Journal of Chemical Education, 85 (3), 336-339.

Excerpted from Teaching Philosophy Statements Prepared by Faculty Candidates, The Teaching Professor, June-July, 2008.

There were 63 students in this entry-level economics course. The instructor announced that only three students got the answer correct and then laid into the students: “Come on people, this is eighth-grade math. This is simple, simple, simple. I can’t take class time to review what you should have learned in grade school. If you missed this problem, you are going to struggle in this class and the rest of college. You need to review math and get these basics down. Start thinking! This is college. We expect you to use your minds here!”

There is no question that some college students today are missing fundamental knowledge and skills that will jeopardize their success in college and in life. The question is how do we show students where they are as compared with where they will be expected to be with a college degree? And how do we get them motivated to make that long journey? Is berating them the best way to get them going?

Avoiding discussion of missing skills and knowledge is certainly not the solution. If faculty don’t provide those benchmarks, students are left to make these determinations on their own. Most of my beginning students happily conclude that spelling is not important (it certainly doesn’t matter to any of their friends). Facing inadequacies is tough enough for mature, seasoned adults, let alone an 18-year-old in a brand-new environment.

Sugarcoating the truth seems equally unethical. If a student can’t do simple math or write a coherent sentence, this is not the time to hint around that there may be a bit of a problem but that the student should feel so good that he or she has made it to college.

Finally it seems less than professional to pass the buck: “You need to go to the Learning Center and see about math tutoring.” Messages like that make folks in the Learning Center the bad guys, and that makes it even tougher for them to successfully interact with students.

So we’re back to whether a faculty member bluntly laying it on the line gets students moving in the direction of the help they need. I’ve seen a technique used in both math and psychology courses that offered an interesting alternative. It was a kind of diagnostic, not-for-credit assessment (although students were not told this up front).

In math, students took a 10 question quiz on the first day of class. The quiz was corrected, and when returned, students were told these were the kinds of problems they needed to be able to do now. Attached to each quiz was a list of resources students could review, names of available math tutors, and Web links to other problem sets that could be used for practice.

In psych, students were given a two-page list of terms and concepts they needed to identify with the help of the person sitting next to them. The worksheet was returned with incorrect, incomplete, or inadequate answers marked but not corrected. Attached was a list of references (very specific, concrete referrals to chapters and pages, not whole books). Students were told in no uncertain terms that success in the course depended on mastery of this prerequisite knowledge.

It’s good to remember that teachers can’t force a student to learn what they need to know. But it’s also good to remember that teachers can be a source of motivation. The question is how best to get students moving in those directions that close the gaps between what they need to know and don’t know.

Adapted from Berating Students for What They Don’t Know, The Teaching Professor, December 2006.

“The teaching life is the life of the explorer, the creator, constructing the classroom for free exploration. It is about engagement. It takes courage. It is about ruthlessly excising what is flawed, what no longer fits, no matter how difficult it was to achieve. It is about recognizing teaching as a medium that can do some things exquisitely but cannot do everything.

“Unlike writing, however, teaching is not a solitary endeavor. Your audience is not imaginary, in your head: It is in your face every time you walk into a classroom, every time a student crosses the threshold of your office, every time you pass a student you know on the street. …

“When I am doing it well, I feel energized. I feel free. I want to experiement, to take ideas and actions where they lead me. … But I am often tired because it consumes energy rapaciously. It is an uphill journey; sometimes I fall down. Sometimes students follow me but sometimes they abandon me—they think I am crazy and they take me to the woodshed.”

Reference: Walck’s essay was first published in the Journal of Management Education, 1997, 21 (4), 473-482. It was republished in a collection of essays titled, Wise Women: Reflections of Teachers at Midlife edited by Phyllis R. Freeman and Jan Zlotnik Schmidt and published in 2000 by Routledge. Unfortunately this book is not longer in print.