Course evaluations

With exams for the first teaching block taking place this week, students may be more preoccupied with digesting two months' worth of course material than with reflecting on what they learned in their classes in that time. A professor of mine once said at the end of our freshman seminar that we will probably not remember anything from our ancient Greek course (for me, that was not exactly true), but we will definitely remember with fondness having taken the class (which is very true) since most of us had never done anything like it. Maybe he was speaking from decades of experience or wanting to console us in case our grades were underwhelming, but I still remember him saying it with quiet confidence. I liked that course.

Sometimes I too wonder what my students will think of my courses long after they have received their diplomas, started their careers, and moved to a different city or country. Sure, there are always the eager students who will immediately complete the Caracal evaluation to share their enthusiasm when the invitation email arrives in their inbox; as well as their opposites who loathed every minute of looking at my Powerpoint slides and need an opportunity to say as much. There are occasionally useful comments about changing the pace of lectures or adding more content as well as the always appreciated, hopefully sincere "nice guy, great lecturer" ego boosts (thanks, students). 

And I will carefully read through all these anonymous evaluations, wondering who thought I dressed well enough to need to comment on it or had undiagnosed misophonia triggered by my gum chewing. This is not because I lack reading material but because I genuinely am curious about what my students think and I don't really know. That's because, despite spending between four and six hours each week with them for two months, I rarely engage with them in conversation beyond the perfunctory academic exchanges. And if I were to ask them "How do you find the course?" directly, the obvious power differential between us as educator-student along with the Hawthorne effect may result in not getting an honest answer.

But an equally important piece of feedback that goes missing from the exchange is what I learn from teaching. Sometimes it is from coming across new material, where in the process of making a lecture I read more books or articles. Sometimes it is from lecturing in real time, where I catch myself saying something that I instantly regret because it was either improvised bullshit or disrespectful. When the latter happened a few weeks ago in one of my tutorials, I had the presence of mind to stop and apologize to the class for being rude. I don't know if I blushed from embarrassment when this happened, but I recall feeling hot in the face from the shame at letting both me and my students down. Those are genuine teaching moments.

For me, the best part of teaching usually comes when I am explaining a concept to my students, and both the novelty of the idea and the receptiveness of the students create a moment of frisson. A shiver runs up my spine, I get goosebumps, and I suddenly feel a sense of amazement at what I am doing, a job that regularly gives me actual thrills. Is it shocking that some university teachers enjoy teaching? Maybe. But by writing this blog post I can finally let my students know some of the lows and highs about our course from my perspective and thank them for teaching me something new.