LiberalArtsOnline Vol. 1, No. 5
In June, the Annapolis Group Deans engaged in a spirited discussion of how liberal arts faculty allocate time. Are our faculty colleagues too busy for reflection?
I found two contributions to our discussion particularly insightful. Robert Hoyler (Randolph Macon College) suggested our propensity for reflection creates our tight schedule. John Churchill (Hendrix College) noted our immersion in a liberal arts culture opens infinite possibilities with every issue we face. Reflecting on as many options as possible, combined with our belief in the importance of what we do, can be overwhelming.
As academics, we eschew the routine, continually recreating courses and course materials. Our liberal arts background leads us to discard formulaic approaches; instead we customize and revise instructional methods in response to specific situations and unique individuals. The more time we spend on the task the more we find to do.
The question is whether it is possible (or desirable) to resolve the time challenges facing teaching faculty. We seek greater efficiency, assuming the tasks facing us are finite when, in fact, liberal arts teaching is characterized by infinite possibilities.
One can argue that recent developments have increased the difficulty of carving infinite possibilities into manageable units. We now rely less on closed-ended lectures or laboratory exercises which, although problematic, define boundaries. Increasingly, lecture-centered instruction is giving way to open-ended approaches, encouraging students to construct their own knowledge.
Not long ago our jobs changed upon leaving the office. Going home for dinner created a point of closure. While students or colleagues could call or come by, they rarely did. We graded, read, reflected, or even relaxed.
Now we remain in contact through e-mail or chat rooms. Our course materials and references are always at our fingertips calling on us to revise once more. We can choose to turn off the computer, but it is more arbitrary than deciding it is too far or too late to return to campus.
Our discussion at the Annapolis meeting closed with an observation that faculty need points of closure to help deal with the infinite options and responsibilities inherent to teaching in the liberal arts.
I have reflected upon this thought since the meeting's end. I believe closure isn't the right term. It implies a finality that is neither desirable nor possible to attain.
John Churchill reminded those of us at Annapolis of a relevant Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. Calvin's father was sent to the grocery store for peanut butter. He returned empty handed: between the various container sizes, brands, and smooth vs. crunchy, the options were overwhelming. Whether selecting peanut butter or planning a class, the thought of a decision creating closure can lead to paralysis unless one is willing to accept, for a time, a less than perfect option.
I cease to find teaching stressful when I accept that it is beyond my ability to predict with certainty what I ought to do. Perhaps the closest we can or should come to closure is to treat every course, every day, and every situation as an experiment that will provide information to respond more appropriately the next time around.
It is reliance on the liberal arts philosophy that opens for us the infinite realm of possibilities we daily encounter. This same character should help us manage the infinite by finding joy in uncertainty.
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LiberalArtsOnline is an occasional email essay on the liberal arts, provided as a public service of the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts.
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The comments published in LiberalArtsOnline reflect the opinions of the author(s) and not necessarily those of the Center of Inquiry or Wabash College. Comments may be quoted or republished in full, with attribution to the author, LiberalArtsOnline, and the Center of Inquiry in the Liberal Arts.