Oct. 5

Career Coach: Parenting and Pedagogy

By Tedra Osell

“Dr. K.” asks: As an incipient Mama Ph.D., I’d like to know how parenthood affects your pedagogy. If anyone has had a before- and after-baby teaching career, aside from issues like daycare and fatigue, I’d be grateful if you could tell me how it changes a person as a teacher.

Awesome question. The most immediate effect, I think, is that I am *much* more aware of, and sensitive to, the needs and challenges of students with children of their own. Those “no cell phones in class” statements on the syllabus? I bring mine in, and leave it on, in case my son’s school needs to call, and I know that some of my students are in the same boat. And for all I know, other students have reasons for leaving their phones on too. So instead of “no phones,” I tell them, turn your ringers down and if you have to answer the phone, please step out of the room while you do so. Missing class because of sickness or babysitting problems? It happens. Here’s the work you missed; please check with a friend to look at their notes.

It also, I think, makes me better at thinking about my students’ educational backgrounds, the gaps they may or may not have, and the fact that they have different learning styles. My son? Bright, believes everything’s negotiable, and in the wrong school environment might very well be labelled a “behavior problem.” Other kids in his class, where I’ve done some volunteering? I can see them getting discouraged at the age of six, getting the message that they’re “not good at school,” checking out to protect their egos.

So when I have students of my own who act up or seem disengaged, I treat them much the same way I treat my son, the way I want his teachers to treat him. That is, I give those students — privately, so as not to embarrass them — very clear instructions about why their behavior is a problem, what they need to do differently, and why.

I don’t just leave the students who never show up to class to fail: when they do wander in, I go up to their desks and crouch down on their level, just like with a little kid. I quietly and sympathetically ask them if there’s a reason they’ve been missing class, and explain as non-confrontationally as possible why doing so is a problem, where they stand, and what they need to do — email me if they must miss a class, attend more often, turn in their journals, turn in written work on time, whatever — in order to pass the class.

The students with the clownish attitudes and constant jokes get laughs and some of the attention they crave, while again getting — privately — a request to please dial it down a little so as not to distract the class. The student with a chip on his shoulder gets asked sympathetically if there’s something about the class that’s bugging him.

God knows I have my moments where I say, privately and sometimes even to students, that I am not their mother, and it isn’t my job to accept their excuses or make exceptions for them. But then again, being a good parent doesn’t mean accepting excuses or making exceptions either. It does mean setting clear expectations, assuming that children have reasons for what they do (even when it’s infuriating), and trying to think empathetically about how to provide the conditions they need to learn.

I can’t make sure my students get enough sleep or eat breakfast. But I can make sure that I don’t act impatient when they don’t know things no one has taught them yet, that I don’t take irritating behavior personally, and that I listen to what they say even when it’s something I’ve heard a hundred times before. It really does seem to help get even the most reluctant students more engaged with the class.

And I also make sure that at the end of the day, the “kids” and “kid concerns” get put to bed, so that Mama can have a little bit of grownup time to relax before she has to go do it all over again tomorrow.

Have a question for the Career Coach? Write to Mama PhD.

Comments

“Those “no cell phones in class” statements on the syllabus? I bring mine in, and leave it on, in case my son’s school needs to call, and I know that some of my students are in the same boat.”

I have to confess—this reasoning drives me insane. Now first of all, I will grant that you may have very specific circumstances regarding your institution or your son. But I hear of many professors—women, mainly, fwiw—who bring their cell phones to class and leave them on.

WHY?

My son has asthma and a peanut allergy, and I’d never dream of bringing my phone to class much less taking a call while I’m teaching. And my kids always are my priority, and I have the support of my chair and dean in that.

What I do is leave the number of the dean’s office and if there’s an emergency, the dean’s administrative assistant will find me in my classroom. Sure, there is a one in a million chance that maybe a combination of events would occur whereby my husband, my chair, and anyone in the dean’s office would be unavailable when I was in the classroom, and that could be a tragedy, though I doubt it because I also sign 10,000 papers authorizing the school to send my kid to the hospital in the event of an emergency, but I’m not willing to play those odds against what I consider to be the absolute rudeness of answering my cell phone when I’m in class with my students!

I will also grant that maybe your school doesn’t have bonehead employees who always call the cell for everything: “Hello? Mrs. Z? [Not my name, btw] We don’t have Eric’s immunization paperwork. Could you make sure we get that by the end of the month? Thank you!” But there’s my point: the school could call just as easily about a non-emergency, and I couldn’t tell by looking at the caller ID.

Sorry, this is obviously a sore point with me. However, I do think your larger point holds. I too am much more lenient with students who are parents.

Wendy, at 4:40 am EDT on October 6, 2008

I appreciated your points here. I’m currently in graduate school, working on an elementary education degree, and fantasize about also teaching at the college level someday. I’m also the mom of three, so all of these concerns hit close to home! I always keep my phone on vibrate during classes, and though I haven’t yet had to answer a call (yay for caller id!) I’d take one from my husband, who knows I’m in class and would only call if it were an emergency, probably with one of the kids. And of course I’d step out.More to the point, though, I appreciated your comments about handling students; less than a year from now I’ll be presiding over a roomful of kids, anywhere from 6 to 12 years old. Those techniques, informed by parenting, will be pretty handy. And if I’m ever running a course on early childhood development or something, the same will hold true. Thanks!

TW, at 9:15 am EDT on October 6, 2008

Pedagogy and Parenthood

I’ve been waiting for an editorial on this very topic — thank you! As a mother of a 3 year old, I have many times said — “parenting a toddler has improved my teaching!” I not only have more patience and flexibility in the classroom and have set clearer expectations (2 points the author also made), but find that the feedback I provide is even clearer, because it is in the feedback that the learning is reinforced and enhanced. Having a preschooler has also made me do away with the term “androgogy” as many “adult learning” principles apply in my son’s preschool classroom, too! Hands-on learning with relevancy to his everyday life and respect for what he brings to the classroom is just as important to my son as they are to the returning student in my college classroom. Bravo Mama PhDs for sharing your thoughts and wisdom — and giving this reader a sense of sanity in the midst of some crazy days!

Ben’s mom, University of Wisconsin, at 1:00 pm EDT on October 6, 2008

As a follow-up, I mentioned this to one of my classes today, and they told me of several professors who took calls in class, including one engineering professor who would not just take the call but have a conversation while the class was working (on computers). Another student mentioned that a professor had taken a call once but had apologized and explained that it was an unusual situation.

I also wrote for a department newsletter on how being a parent has changed my teaching. I reposted it at my blog here.

Wendy, at 10:40 pm EDT on October 6, 2008

re. driving Wendy crazy

When I wasn’t adjuncting, and my husband was doing the primary parenting work, I didn’t leave my phone on (or even bring it to class, really). But now that I’m doing the one-course adjunct thing and packing that in between various mama responsibilities, I do (especially since the time I ignored the phone and it really was an urgent call from the school. Oops).

Of course, in the end—like all parenting decisions—people have their comfort zones. There are a lot of precautions other parents take that I think are crazy, and obviously this cell phone thing is one that Wendy thinks is crazy. Chacune � son goût.

tedra osell, at 4:50 am EDT on October 7, 2008

Question for future column

I wonder if you could comment on a departmental function that involves an optional co-ed naked activity, say sitting in a shared sauna or hottub? There was no pressure to participate, but the option was there, as part of a multi-day retreat, and everyone was raving about it. I wasn’t eager to bare all with colleagues and students, but I also hated forgoing a nice experience. It seemed that wearing a swimsuit would brand me as a total dork. It seems hard to maintain the appropriate level of dignity and professionalism after seeing/ being seen in the altogether. Any suggestions on how to handle this? I should also say that I have nothing against getting naked with friends, or strangers. It’s the professional relationship that puts me off. I am a younger and female member of a department that is mostly male.

Modest Mouse, at 3:25 pm EDT on October 9, 2008

Career Coach: Parenting and Pedagogy

Comments

Pedagogy and Parenthood

re. driving Wendy crazy

more on this topic

Question for future column