I'm a bad student. Chances are though, so are you. I'd rather stay in bed than go to most of my classes. Yet, when I'd drag myself to a lecture, I notice that half the class never made it out of bed in the first place. I rarely put serious thought into a paper shorter than 15 pages until the night before it's due, but I'm never sweating alone in the computer cluster at three in the morning.
Sometimes, when I don't feel like doodling, I actually listen to my professors. A familiar pattern emerges. I hear my teacher ask a question. And then I hear... nothing, complete silence. Is the question that difficult? Is everyone in the class scared to answer?
And then I realize something: I'm not answering the question either, not because I'm too shy or can't think of a response, but because I don't want to think about it at all. Quite simply, I just don't care.
Beyond the fact that I'm spending an absurd amount of money for every breath I take at this university, I find my lack of enthusiasm for the education process a bit disturbing. And as is human nature, I need to blame someone.
Perhaps as students, we should all take responsibility for this situation. We're the ones who ultimately lose or gain from how much we put into our education and should make more of an effort to actively involve ourselves in our classes.
Sounds good. but here's the catch: I think most of us actually like to learn. Although we have all had to stomach some pain, I don't believe you get admitted to Duke and find a way to succeed here unless you have an innate desire to explore ideas and express yourself. Look at The Chronicle. Go into a dorm room late at night.
The University is not so much about working hard or playing hard as it is a campus built around people with strong opinions who believe in challenging others and probing toward a closer understanding of the truth. The question then is who should bear the brunt of the criticism for student apathy?
When I thought about college in high school, I pictured the movie Dead Poet's Society. I was going to stand on desks, rip text books to shreds and learn the secrets of nature, how to turn words into emotions and the inner workings of my own heart and mind. I was going to be inspired.
And then I came to the University. I've learned about discourses, pedagogues, analytical frameworks and semantic distinctions. My professors have been among the most intelligent people in the world and have introduced me to a world of ideas and information. They just forgot to tell me why it all mattered.
I used to excuse most professors at the University for not being great teachers by assuming that they were probably too busy saving the world to devote a lot of energy to their classes. Now I think that maybe most professors just don't care as well.
When students either don't show up to class or pay attention only to the crossword, how can teachers not consider such behavior a personal insult? Why is it that I can tell when a student is full of crap, but professors often nod their heads and smile at such vacuous prattle?
I love to read, but I would rather vomit on myself than struggle through some of the pedantic texts I've been assigned. How could a professor who cares about relating to students and getting them enthusiastic about the course material ever assign such reading?
Scan ACES during registration. There are always a few classes that have 10 people on the waiting list before any other class fills up. The professors who teach those classes are the ones who cry during class, who invite their students over to their homes for dinner and who demonstrate that their classes are an extension of their lives. They are not to blame for student apathy.
Their presence simply highlights the fact that it is relevant how much research professors do or how many times they can plaster their names to an academic text. A professor's job is to teach, which means not only to pass on information, but more importantly, to excite and inspire students.
I may be a bad student, and there may be many bad students on this campus, but we haven't chosen to devote our lives to being students and we're not getting paid for our performance. And at least I feel guilt and am motivated to change.
Despite all the thinking they do, I doubt many professors frequently consider the most important thing of all: their students.
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