School Daze

A return to the academic life is not without its ups and downs. Truthfully, I rarely feel more alive than when I’m teaching, so to be paid to do that every week is a real plus. I love the preparation, as tedious as it can sometimes be. I love the delivery, the classroom interaction.

The surprise on the face of students when they learn something unexpected and good.
On the down side, the seminary in which I teach has grown tremendously. So there are layers of people where their used to be a single person to deal with. Also, professors are expected to be able to use the new tools available in this 21st century environment. I’m down with that. I can use the computer, the computerized library catalog, the projector which allows the expected PowerPoint presentation in each class. But there are new tools—something called Blackboard. Ah. Not so easy.

Blackboard allows me, I’m told, to post a syllabus, handouts, and the like, as well as leave messages between classes for the students. To use Blackboard I have to have an account. I was sent to three different people to establish and account and learn how to use the system. Finally, a friendly professor colleague gave me the introductory lesson. Unfortunately, when I tried to use Blackboard from my home computer, my status was listed as Student rather than Instructor. Back to school for another attempt and another lesson from my colleague.

The “times” have made some things mandatory which were less so in the past. I, nor any student, may use gender specific language for God. God may not be “He.” Shoot. Can’t be “She” either. Which makes for some really awkward syntax from time to time. It’s not that I object. I think it’s a good idea in principle. However, since I believe God to be male and female, I sometimes want to speak of God as Mother or Her as well as Father or He. No dice. I’m sure I’ll slip.

One thing I was pleased to hear during my orientation was that it was time to clamp down on grade inflation. Funny. When I taught there in the 80s and early 90s, I was frequently questioned about the number of my students who were assigned Cs, Ds and even Fs. I was even indirectly accused of being a racist since some students who received those grades were minority students. To be more frank than I should in writing something that can easily be circulated and read by those who might wish me harm: the school had admitted older students without college degrees, some of whom couldn’t write a complete sentence. I believed it would have been racist for me to have treated them differently from other students who could write complete sentences. Not everyone bought that stance.

The politics are troubling too, but this is not the place to go into that. What I wonder is why I had forgotten about the various down sides to teaching when I agreed to return. I guess I thought the personal high and the chance to influence lives was worth it. And I still do. I’m just less tolerant than I need to be.

Peace

Jerry+ BTW: I love it when readers use the comment function to interact. Feel free!