I am naturally a very quiet and unfriendly person–not unfriendly in the mean or antagonistic way but in the awkward “people make me uncomfortable and I’d rather be home by myself” way. So teaching two classes of 40 students public speaking can be hard. I know what I’m supposed to teach them and why. I know how to answer even the most obscure questions and how to make the required activities and assignments sound important and helpful. But I can’t make jokes, my enthusiasm level only goes so high, and I’m awful at making conversation even during small-group moments like their outline workshops. (The irony of me being a Communication Studies major while being unable to hold a normal conversation is not lost on me, but I’m more of a theory and research kind of gal.) It doesn’t help that even I’m bored to tears by the sound of my own voice.
I don’t need to be the friendliest teacher ever as long as the students (for the most part) grasp what I’m teaching them and improve on their public speaking. But I would like the students to perceive me as approachable, comfortable, and my “lectures” as not that boring. My goals as a teacher sound easy to most, but almost impossible to me. Even this semester instead of making progress with my goals, I seem to have just increased my own anxiety. When I walk down the hallway toward my classroom, each time my heart starts pounding and my limbs become stiff, and I can’t completely relax until both my class sessions are over.
I think the only way to get over this (and I’m not recommending it to anyone) is to have two different “faces” when I teach–one for my students and one for me. To lessen my anxiety, I would convince myself that the students’ reaction to me doesn’t matter, that I don’t care what they think as long as the information, reasoning, and physical practice is available to them in my class. Since my anxiety will hopefully be reduced, my second “face” will be one of casual comfort and approachability. Maybe I can even start working on my conversational skills when I’m not overthinking it.
No one person is alike or has the same flaws, so no teacher or teaching style can be labeled as the “best.” We all have to figure out what works with our own personal hangups and strengths. Some individuals’ personalities are more compatible with teaching than others, and some directly oppose it. But that doesn’t mean these people (including me) have to stop being teachers. All anyone can do is actively search and explore what is best for them and best for their students.
“This is my voice, there are many like it, but this one is mine.” –Shane Koyczan, “This is my Voice“
Allow me to complicate things for this week’s topic:
I have two voices. One of them is silent.
Yet, both are part of my authentic teaching voice.
The Non-Silent Voice
(Like I said, the non-silent voice)
When I walk into a classroom on the first day, usually into a philosophy class, I give a brief bio about myself and then jump straight into one of the most important parts of that class: community building and context setting. By context setting I mean being honest and transparent about the often unsaid and left out things.
For the unsaid (but sometimes implied):
We as a class will be creating and making this classroom together
We are responsible and accountable to one another
My students are the core while I am a facilitator of their narrative and
exploration into the topic
I am more concerned with them learning to be honest with themselves about what they believe, and why, than with their actual views
I will invite them to engage in difficult conversations and to lean into the discomfort of challenging discussions, with the hope that they will eventually trust that the conversation will take us all to deeper levels of understanding both about the topic at hand and, more importantly, about ourselves as interlocutors
For the left out (and rarely implied):
We should be mindful of accessibility/We will remake the space as needed to make it more accessible
We will discuss things they never learned or were intentionally not taught in school (null curriculum)
They are welcome to be their authentic selves in the class; they don’t have to hide their beliefs or say what seems “mainstream”
I am more concerned that they leave with transferable skills than knowing the minute details of the philosophers we discuss
I am human, have opinions on these topics and I won’t reveal any of mine until the end of the course.
To this latter point, I tack on the truthful disclaimer that I will at times motivate and defend views I do think are false because they are the topic of the week and it is my responsibility as a facilitator to give them an accurate lay of the land to explore. That last part usually gets left out.
Next we do introductions. We take time, careful time, filling out note cards and an intake form that give background information that I want to know such as:
major
past history in philosophy
current beliefs (so I can flag the tensions that will pop up sections to section and so that they can reflect on what they believe at the end of the semester)
things they’re actually interested in so I can work in topics/recommend readings
“preferred” pronouns if they should have any
I also ask them to draw me a picture on the note card as well but I don’t tell them why until the end of the semester. Pictures and non-traditional methods of concept presentation/acquisition happen a lot in my sections. Finally, we go around the room and share one embarrassing thing that happened to us to establish lines of common, yet different, experiences (lots of people falling down stairs, I share falling down a hill into my first field hockey collegiate game) and we start talking about the reading.
In a normal class session we do processing to work through anything that folks aren’t quite sure about from the week’s readings, we do a peer led discussion where 2-3 students lead a discussion/activity on a given topic for their colleague, we unpack the activity, do another small group conversation, and end with a participation page where they can ask me questions/reflect on what they are thinking about. This is also where the introverts can participate in a more introvert friendly space.
So far everything I’ve named has been the (usually) audible, present voice I bring into the classroom. It is with this voice I try to nurture, not tolerate or merely accept or support, the voices, opinions and thoughts of the students I work with. It is with this voice I try to support them when they say they “just can’t get it” and challenge them to formulate the argument on behalf of their opposition when they get to haughty.
My teaching self tries to be both high in support and high in what is called “control” in Restorative Practices models but more accurately translates to “challenge”. I try to challenge all my students to improve even when they struggle and to reach out to one another as colleagues in a mutual labor of learning difficult concepts. They each receive feedback on their work and at the end of the semester they get an “improvement” based grade in addition to the university required letter grade since when I said I care about improvement, I meant it.
I try to foster a classroom environment where they are accountable to one another, not merely to me, and an environment where ultimately I would be irreverent. One in which unpopular opinions can be shared openly, honestly, and where we can have a philosophical discussion about the tensions among views without the need for facilitator oversight.
All of this (I hope) sounds pretty decent, right?
What then is the voice that is missing?
The Silent Voice
In the classroom an intentional style, and approach, I take given that it is philosophy is to tell my students almost nothing about my background. I tell them a little bit, like the main areas I work in so that they know I may give more feedback than normal if I know the literature; I flag that I’m a diversity trainer for the university (and that they may run into me outside of class); and give a bit of history (reslife, old majors) with the end note of “I know that unforeseen things will happen in your lives; just keep me in the loop when, and if, you need some sort of accessibility move to balance life’s challenges”. Like I said, high in support and challenge.
But what I don’t reveal is also of import when it comes to my authentic teaching self:
I don’t tell them that I’m a moral realist, intuitionist, and deontologist.
I don’t tell them that I’m a conditional vegetarian who thinks I should be a vegan.
I don’t tell them that I think killing is self-defense may not always be morally permissible (a very unpopular view).
I don’t tell them a myriad of other philosophical views that I, reasonably, think I am probably wrong about at the end of the day.
And outside of philosophical views, I intentionally don’t tell them I’m trans.
In philosophy we have a major problem with bias both in the discipline and about the discipline and, historically, this bias impacts facilitators and students.
On their end, if students know that I believe x they are more likely to focus on either a) catering to my beliefs or b) take any criticism of how they formulate an argument to be only due to the fact that I think a different view is more plausible. There is also a tendency to link identities with beliefs and that’s one of the reasons I don’t say anything; why I don’t “correct” for pronouns and have a mixture of “ma’am/she” and “sir/he” floating around the classroom (and email) everyday. The trans*/minoritized identity=liberal=this belief about x is too pernicious to avoid it any other way. That and the fear of being perceived as “forcing my views onto someone’s child” for merely existing is a conversation I’d rather avoid.
While for some folks reading this, it may not make sense to have to hide, obscure, or simply leave out identities, not everyone can do that. There isn’t usually a lot of risk when someone who is in a different gender relationship/partnership mentions that they have wife/husband, for example. There can be tangible risks if you’re in a same gender relationship, a poly relationship, unmarried with a child, queer, etc.
As I said, I wanted to complicate things this week and this is the complication. Depending on your identities, or more accurately the identities that people perceive of you, this “authentic” self sometimes has to be policed by the very person it is supposed to represent.
We can’t talk about our authentic teaching selves without naming the things that we must leave unsaid.
Bridging the Gap
With my audible voice I “use” this silent voice at the very end of the semester to do a consciousness raising activity in what I think constitutes a type of ethical manipulation. Specifically, I use my silence as a tool to get students to reflect on what implicit bias means for them and their communities. During this class we talk about implicit bias, they do iceburg activities with one another naming the identities and histories they assume about their partner, and then they guess things about me. I don’t answer their guesses just as I haven’t answered their guesses during the other weeks.
In leaving a space of intentional uncertainty, my students get to see that not everyone makes the same assumptions about me, and I leave them with the question of which guesses were right, which guesses were wrong, and an invitation to consider what it would have meant if I walked into a space where folks were making multiple, conflicting assumptions. I end by asking them to take with them the question of what assumptions folks make about them and how those assumptions continue to shape their paths in the years to come.
My silent voice ultimately is not the one I speak with, not the one that shows up to facilitate philosophical conversations with students thrice a week beyond being present in absence.
In being silent, and silenced, this part of my authentic self gets used to at least raise consciousness and make a philosophical point that is memorable, transferable, and, just sometimes, world shattering.
It may be silent, but it shapes my approach to teaching as much as if not more than my non-silent voice.
And You?
When we speak about our teaching voices, the kinds of facilitators we are or are working on becoming in the classroom and lab, our approaches, techniques, strengths, oddities, I don’t think we can leave out the fact that some of us, if not all of us, must have dual voices.
Not all of us can be our authentic selves in every classroom without monitoring the plurality of voices that we have; each authentic, real, and felt in a different way.
I struggled all throughout summer with how to end that sentence prior to my first day of teaching. Though I’m a GTA, my face would be the only face students would see in the classroom. My youthful, smiling, pretty, 22 year old face was the only face that was supposed to hold some sort of authority within the classroom. My Public Speaking class is a mix of freshman who probably took this class thinking they should just get the requirement over with and seniors who put taking this course off until their last year. I’d be the same age as some of these students. Though I wasn’t intimidated by this, I was unsure as to what they should call me. With such a close approximation in age as most of my students, I didn’t want them calling me by my first name. That was too “chill” for my liking and gave off an impression that I just wasn’t willing to work my way out from under after the first day. So, just use your surname you’re thinking. To many, that’s an easy solution but for me it was not. I’ve always loved my last name. It’s an easy name to remember, to pronounce, and to joke about. However, it’s not a name that conveys authority, professionalism, and expertise in any arena that I would like to be associated with. Friends suggested I use my mom’s maiden name since it was my middle name. Again, a logical answer. However “Ms. Friend” didn’t convey the right type of impression I wanted to give off either. I eventually sucked it up, told myself that my students were going to have to deal with it and that I would take no shit for it. So, on my first day of class, I walked to the front of the room and said, “Good morning class! My name is Ms. Hotter.”
I’ve only taught four classes so far, but I have never received any sort of backlash for my name by my own students. The only time my last name has been commented on was by a colleague’s student that I had substituted for. His comments were addressed quickly and nothing more of it was said by him or any other student.
Thankfully, the atmosphere I wanted to create with my classroom is something my students have praised me for in my SPOT evals. They love that I play music before class starts so there’s not awkward silence. They appreciate my relatable and approachable manner. I’ve even had a student comment on how he/she enjoyed my sarcasm and that it made PS his/her favorite class to attend. There’s definitely a lot of issues that can arise when teaching at such a young age but I’m trying to take this as the opportunity to really learn how to communicate and relate to my students (in a professional manner of course). I try not to shut off my own personality too much when teaching. There are a few things I have to catch myself from doing in front of my students but that’s all a part of the learning experience. One thing I have learned is that when I see a student downtown at a bar, it’s best to just duck, cover, and move onto the next bar. It’s not worth having them give you funny glances the whole time.
“How do I create a professional relationship with my students? Can I maintain authority and treat students fairly while striving for them to like me? Where should the boundaries be? If I become my students’ buddy, how can I assess them properly (i.e., give them low grades when appropriate) without compromising our relationship?” – these are all questions that have came across my mind as I have yet and anxious to teach a college course yet. These questions zero in on my mind, especially when I kind of do want to be the “popular professor”. During my tenure as a substitute teacher I was the “cool sub”, when I would walk into the schools that were familiar with me, especially the high schools, the students would bum bar me with questions like “what class are you subbing for?” “Can you sub for my class soon?”, “When are you going to be here again?” As I enjoyed seeing their happy faces and listening to the different confidential adventures they’d go on the weekend prior I was afraid I was becoming a friend instead of a professional instructor. It felt as though I had little authority, the times I did get frustrated some of the “gate keeper” students would see my frustration and yell to their peers “Be quiet! I like this sub and I am not trying to get in trouble!” But I felt like that should have still been my job to find the balance of being the professional authority figure and the “cool sub” and the same time.
Finding out who I am as a teacher and finding my teaching voice is something that I can honestly say I am anxious more than anything about teaching. I want to be able to find that balance being that confidant,, stimulating my students’ knowledge, and having that authoritative respect from my students all at the same time. Is it a process and something that comes with time?
The “Authentic teaching self” really helped me to think and answer some of the above questions. The idea that “teaching is not always about you”, for some reason that resonated with me I was thinking about me and my position in the classroom more than my future students. The handout suggested to “step outside of yourself” so that you can be attentive to the students and not make the classroom your stage with the students as a passive audience. This suggestion helped my anxieties calm down a little. Finding the balance is important but recognizing that teaching is about the students is even more important. This was just my Aha! moment.
This week’s post prompt had me perplexed, given that we are to describe our “authentic teaching self,” and I have never formally taught a day in my life. However, after going through this week’s readings, I realized that teaching doesn’t necessarily have to be in a classroom. I’ve helped tutor students, helped run training programs, and consistently try to teach the students I manage at work to have proper workspace etiquette, etc. I thought it would be helpful for myself to write down what I consider some of my biggest personality traits, and try to align them with a “teaching voice”–
Intuitive- I tend to make decisions based on my instincts, and what I feel is best at the given time. This is normally a mix of what is the most realistic option and what seems the most rational. This personality trait also eliminates time that I could be spending making decisions or dwelling on a decision. Instead, I go with my gut and stick with it. This could help in regards to teaching to a) make quick judgements, b) help others learn to listen to their inner voice, and c) be able to think more creatively. This article provides a really neat perspective on intuition and how it can inform creative decisions.
Independent- (A nice way of saying introverted.) I very much enjoy my alone time, am not the most outgoing of people, and like to make decisions on my own. I prefer to observe than engage ~but am happy to engage when need be~. Some people are naturally more outgoing and eager to be social, but for introverts like me, its often a very tiring process. As a teacher, this is probably one of the worst personality traits to have. However, I imagine there would be ways to deal with this effectively, such as scheduling one-on-one appointments with students so they could get valuable face-time, and allow them to feel known on a personal level by their teacher. Many students are independent/introverted as well, so this gives them the opportunity to ask the questions they might not otherwise ask in a large classroom setting.
Personable- I consider myself to be an easily-approachable, personable person. I very much enjoy when someone comes up to me and tells me about themselves, asks me questions, and more. I always do my best to listen to my friends and peers, and make an effort to become engaged in what they are saying. I often ask questions and encourage others to elaborate, which I imagine would be a very effective tool in a classroom. For instance, you could pose an open-ended question to your class, and ask those who answer to elaborate on their yes-no answer. Key features to being personable is to have direct eye contact, minimize distractions like your phone, and have positive body language that reflects theirs. I also think its important to exude positive energy and do your best to make others feel good. I think this personality trait would enable students to approach me and ask questions, feel comfortable that I am engaged in our discussion, and feel positive about the feedback I provide.
Empathetic- I believe that part of being personable (above) is being empathetic. (Often this is confused with sympathy, i.e. feeling bad for someone. Instead, empathy is putting yourself in someone else’s shoes). This means I care about situations that others are in, good or bad, and try to identify with them. As a professor, this could be both a good and bad trait to have. You would be more willing to listen to a particular situation a student is in, such as why they are not prepared for a test, and possibly accommodate them. However, you could be perceived as a pushover or “too easy” on your students, so I’m not convinced its the best trait to have as an educator (especially in higher ed).
Now that I effectively confused myself on whether or not I have the attributes of an effective educator, I’m going to end here. I’m understanding now that any trait could be both a positive and negative in the teaching world, and it’s important to understand yourself as a person and how you work. Sarah Deel says it well: “I hadn’t considered that certain qualities described me (like my earnestness or attention to detail) could be a legitimate part of my teaching voice. Moreover, I could not construct my teaching voice from other people’s qualities, no matter how much I admired them. My encounter with Parker’s ideas freed me to try to become a teacher true to my own qualities of self.”
As someone who is extremely close in age to my students (I have a student this semester who is actually a year older than me) I struggle with being my “authentic teaching self”. If asked to describe myself as a teacher, I would describe myself as: friendly, supportive, encouraging, etc. One word I wish I could use to describe my teaching style is open. Although I do try to be open with my students to an extent, I struggle to feel like I can open myself up to them to the extent that I would like to. My worry is that if I open myself up more I will lose the air of professionalism that I have been able to create. My hope is that once I am in a more “professional” role, rather than working in a GTA capacity, I will feel that I have the freedom to be more open with my students and create stronger connections without the fear of losing their respect.
We have tones of voice and the world ticks in moments. A teaching voice sounds like a bird in a cage; aesthetically pleasing or not, the sound comes from a cage. True, some cages are bigger; some have more technology; others feel bad regardless their big size and high-tech tools. Wait; isn’t earth a cage […]
I’ve only taught four classes so far, but I have never received any sort of backlash for my name by my own students. The only time my last name has been commented on was by a colleague’s student that I had substituted for. His comments were addressed quickly and nothing more of it was said by him or any other student.
