What is in a name? A lot apparently, if this recent essay in Inside Higher Ed is any indication. In it, Alexander Bolyanatz vigorously rejects the appellation of “teacher,” largely because of the connotations he believes it carries. Drawing on the example of K-12 educators, he argues that these individuals, who should be called teachers, are called upon to be disciplinarians, to act in loco parentis, and are often perceived by their students as adversaries. These associations, he believes, should not characterize the work of university faculty. Further, he contends, he is not trained to be a “teacher” since teachers have “formal training in fields like pedagogy and learning” and he does not.
The pushback against this essay has been hard-hitting. And it has been heartening to see many college and university professors embrace not just the title but also the responsibilities of “teacher.” Where I would like to enter the debate is to address an issue that I encounter frequently and have written about previously: the extent to which we as college faculty should be engaged with pedagogy and research on the science of learning.
The author is correct in asserting that most college and university professors do not receive preparation in pedagogy. So add that to the list of things we should be changing about graduate education since the vast majority of us will not teach at R-1 institutions and will regularly and frequently stand before students and TEACH. But in the meantime, shouldn’t we WANT to engage with this material? I have written before about the perplexing–to me–phenomenon of some university professors ignoring the vast literature on how students learn and persisting in outmoded and ineffective forms of instruction. I have several theories about why this is the case, but Bolyanatz’s essay highlights one of them: the unspoken and uncomfortable hierarchies by which we (sometimes) divide the world of education.
I suspect I am not alone in having heard and observed the following sentiments. Being a college professor is better than being a high school teacher. Within the post-secondary world, being an English professor who teaches literature is superior to being one who “only” teaches composition. Those professors who teach “Math Ed”? Not as good as those who teach advanced subjects. And yet ironically we expect those whose work we rank lower to be the ones engaged with the literature and research on how to teach effectively and enhance student learning.
So when the author relegates the work of pedagogy and learning to K-12 teachers I believe that doing so is symptomatic of a larger dilemma in education writ large: the chasm that often divides post-secondary education from its secondary counterpart. Though the author credits these teachers with having expertise in pedagogy and learning, he also simultaneously denigrates them by saying in the next breath that they act as adversarial disciplinarians. In this he exacerbates the divide by fueling negative characterizations that separate these two worlds one from the other.
Some have generously argued that the problem in bridging this gap between the findings of pedagogy and the science of learning and university faculty is one of “communication.” We should communicate the results of the work on pedagogy and learning more broadly and that will change minds. I wish I could be as sanguine. I think the problem is deeper and rooted in these hierarchies which in turn foster prejudices and disdain. So the remedy is interaction. In my experience these hierarchies do not hold once one begins to interact with K-12 educators, composition professors, my colleagues who teach math education at the post-secondary level, and others whose work we are typically quick to trivialize or criticize. Is teaching high school different from teaching college? Absolutely. Are the challenges of teaching freshmen composition different from the challenges of teaching literature? Of course. But different does not mean that one is better or more valuable than the other. I am convinced that we have much to learn from each other if we open a dialogue across these gaps and subvert these hierarchies. I doubt any one of us–regardless of what we teach–has cornered the market on pedagogical knowledge and insight. I know I haven’t. With any luck at all, the best teachers–yes, I said, teachers–are the ones who aren’t done learning how to teach.