Modeling: What not to do - the first week of class

The second week of class, I was in my office during my office hours, grading quizzes, etc. - when I realized that I didn't have office hours at this time: I was 10 minutes late for my class. I grabbed my bag, computer and bucket of candy and raced across campus. Because it was 93 degrees and my classroom was on the other side of campus, I was not a pretty sight when I reached the locked classroom. My students, fifteen seniors in my capstone course that meets only once a week, burst out laughing - and I laughed with them.

As we settled ourselves in the refrigerator, the pet name for our overly-cold classroom, I looked at them and said, "Well, I could tell you that I was late on purpose, to simulate an interview where the interviewer was late... but a) you can see that is not the case, and b) I can't lie to you. That said, we ended up having a lively and entertaining discussion about interviews, meeting times, etc. But I am sure that is not what the president of the university meant, during his orientation speech, about modeling.

Modeling is an amazing tool... one that my mentor, where I earned my MFA, used every time we met. It took me awhile to realize what she was doing, and once I did I admired her even more than before... if that is possible. She consistently presented a positive example of modeling - and she knew she was doing this. The point is, we model - or we are a model - every time we stand in front of our students. We model dress by what we wear when we teach a professional business writing course; we model communication by what style of language we use with students and what words we use; we model eye contact, listening skills, the use of computer resources, social interaction and on and on. And if we are genuine human beings - that happen to be good teachers, at least most of the time - then we model our best and our mistakes in front of our students.

Students are pros at reading instructors to find out what needs to be done to get that A grade. Their motivation is intuitive, because it is embedded within years of being a student. While 'reading an instructor' is not the same as learning through modeling, students may not know this. All they know is to follow the lead dancer: Learn the steps and try not to step on the dancer's toes. The more I thought about this incident of being late for class, the more I knew I did the right thing - in being honest, laughing with them, and using that incident as a discussion starting point. More than anything, I need my students to trust me... if they are going to learn anything from me and if I am going to be able to teach them anything. Yet, that's not what I did the first time I taught.

My first semester teaching freshman composition, I played a part... the part of someone who pretended to know everything. While I am sure I helped some students, I would be embarrassed to meet others now. One student, in particular, never said a word in class... and yet when she came to our first one-on-one conference time, she never stopped talking: She told me everything I was doing wrong... and then she walked out the door.

While I cannot 'take back' that first semester, I am not the same teacher I was then. Looking back, it seems like I spent more time that semester in the 'talking chair' my mentor kept just inside her door than I did in my own classes. And I learned a great deal from that first semester... from my own mistakes and from all the discussions I had with my mentor. As I progressed through my MFA and then my doctorate classes, I also learned characteristics that I never wanted my students to see in an instructor (me) through modeling of poor teaching methods by a few of my instructors.

If I measure my teaching success by how many mistakes I make, I may not trust myself as an instructor the way I would like to - but if I measure my success as a teacher by how many students come to visit me during office hours and stay in touch with me once the course is finished via email, chat, Facebook and even phone calls, then I sleep better at night. Using mistakes as teaching moments may not be a bad thing, as being honest with our students shares an openness that invites respect. So when I went to my class the next day with my phone on - to share phone numbers in case I had an 'emergency' - only to have my phone (which I honestly had put on "silent") ring loudly in class - to which all the students went "Ooohhhhhh!" - we all laughed together when I said - "And this is exactly what you don't want to do!"