On Finding Success in Failure

Just a quick note before dashing off to the department faculty meeting:

A few days ago, in my February 19 posting, I noted how my teaching had seemed more mature, my classes felt more successful, and that I didn’t stop to reflect on my failures as a teacher as frequently; that this was perhaps a sign of better teaching, or perhaps a sign of focusing on other duties at the expense of teaching.

Something has been developing–or rather, not developing–in one of my classes that has been cause for concern. Maybe I didn’t notice it before, maybe I thought it was too early in the semester, maybe I was being careless. Maybe now, because I’ve started to write again, I have begun to notice things again.

I have a class that seems almost devoid of motivation. Multiple students with their heads down, absences high, students are more inclined to change the subject or become obstinate in face of challenging questions rather than interrogating them. Yesterday, I had a student say right in front of me that she wished she was in the next-door class that was playing loud music. Perhaps it was a joke, but it stung. In week 6, this is not what I have come to expect. My other classes all have various degrees of enthusiasm, but their attention and devotion is, at minimum, better than average, and at best, simply amazing. This one class, however, seems nearly completely devoid of an interest in philosophy.

But it reminded me of a question that I asked frequently when I was a new teacher, that I have not been asking myself enough lately: what good is philosophy for our students? Why is this required for community college students? Yes, it’s fascinating, and it’s changed the world. But what are my students getting from it?

When a class of students is almost entirely consumed with curiosity and enthusiasm, it is easy to ignore this question. I don’t need to, because the students don’t need any convincing. They are sold: I can focus on the ideas.

But what if the ideas aren’t serving them in any useful way? What if it’s all just a spectacle, and the skeptics and critics of philosophy are right?

I don’t believe they are. But can I articulate my response? Do I teach my response?

With my troubled class, I need to think about this. I am motivated to think about this: to present them with the arguments and ignite in them a legitimate and productive curiosity for the value of philosophy.

I remember that, when learning how to teach, this was one of the most productive lines of thought I engaged in. It changed everything about my teaching style for the better. Perhaps I have been spoiled with overly enthusiastic students, or did not sufficiently attend to it before, but I had abandoned this question.

That’s bad, because I know the City Colleges of Chicago are undergoing some radical changes, funding is getting cut, and, as our president noted this morning on his blog, we all need to think about how we’re serving our students. Sure, the duty in my heart is first to philosophy, I admit, but I am also legitimately devoted to opening my students’ minds in ways that are in accordance with their greater goals.

So much for quick notes.