Cultivating the Instructor-Student Relationship

The instructor-student relationship has been a central theme of several 9x9x25 posts I've read over the past few weeks.  Whether it's a matter of controlling textbook costs, responding appropriately to e-mails, or implementing due date flexibility, it's clear Yavapai College instructors' concern for their students extends beyond assigning a grade for the work each one has completed throughout a given semester.

But what exactly is the nature of our relationship with students?  What should it look like?  What does it look like?

Despite the fact we often take a parental sort of interest in them, college instructors don't have a substitute-parent relationship with our students resembling the one K-12 teachers have with theirs.  We insist students are responsible for their own grades.  They get what they earn, not what we "give" them.  While we anticipate respectful behavior in our classrooms, we also recognize it's not our job to teach students social skills in a broader sense; nobody's going to get a check on the board next to his or her name for good behavior.  For some students, college may be preparation for the real world, but for others, it is the real world, especially when it's community college.  About half my students are older than I am - they have families, careers, and life experience - indeed, they often hold degrees in other fields!

At the same time, college instructors vehemently resist the idea we have a service industry-type relationship with students.  We've all encountered a student who has adopted the idea that by paying tuition, he or she was paying for a degree, diploma, or grade in a particular class.  Instructors are very sensitive to (and disturbed by) this belief system.  If a degree is paid for instead of earned, it lacks credibility.  After all, I wouldn't want a surgeon with a diploma mill degree digging into my skull (would you?).  To be clear, I am not diminishing the relationship between income and higher education.  After parents' level of education, income is the second-greatest indicator of whether a young adult will attend college.  Paying for a sheepskin and paying to earn one are two very different things.

Unfortunately, we've also seen how this "service industry" mentality has corrupted other institutions whose primary purpose is other than making consumers feel happy.  Employees at many hospitals, for instance, are instructed to treat patients as if they are staying at a 5-star resort.

On second thought, maybe that's not so outlandish.  When I took my two-year-old to the ER this spring for a scalp laceration, our out-of-pocket expense for the two-hour trip was roughly equivalent to a night's stay in a king room (Central Park view) at the New York City Ritz-Carlton... plus valet parking.

I digress.  As instructors, we occupy a strange sort of middle ground.  We call the shots, but only take responsibility for our portion of the relationship.  We create the courses, provide the materials, and grade the assessments, but ultimately it's the student who determines how well she or he is going to do in the class.  Our role is that of a facilitator, and our relationship with students is best considered a partnership - we are not their parents, we are not their bosses, and while we do provide a service, our job is not simply to serve them.

Using this lens can be incredibly helpful for an instructor when trying to cultivate relationships with students.

If, as a facilitator, my job is to assist students throughout the process of their own learning, then I have rights and responsibilities in that role.

I have the right to set boundaries about how I want to be treated by students and what I expect a student's contribution to look like if she or he wants me as a partner.  This includes communicating my expectations for e-mail etiquette, classroom behavior, and participation.  At the same time, I have the responsibility to treat students as adults, partners in learning, and above all, as people.  This often means giving them the benefit of the doubt, and parsing out behavior that is inappropriate and entitled from behavior that is merely panicked and overwhelmed.

Here's an example.  I once received an e-mail from a student complaining it was "unfair" I had "given her" a zero on an assignment she had not completed.  As a facilitator, I had done my job - I had provided the assignment and graded it as I would have for any other student.  In her role, she had two options: to complete the assignment, or not to complete the assignment.  Since she had chosen the latter, this e-mail represented a clear violation of boundaries for me.  Rather than taking responsibility for her role in the partnership, this student attempted to shift responsibility to me, which I was unwilling to assume on her behalf.

On the flip side, I frequently receive e-mails from students who acknowledge they have missed assignments but want the opportunity to complete them late.  This is not necessarily a violation of (my) boundaries.  So long at the student adopts responsibility for his or her own portion of our relationship, I am usually willing to provide accommodation at my own discretion.

Incidentally, "it's in the syllabus" is a fairly common refrain and like most other instructors, I'm too-often tempted to use it with students.  But when one stops to consider that the YC syllabus template alone - not including any course-specific information such as learning outcomes, grading criteria, or course content - is six pages long, I'm hardly surprised many students don't read five syllabi in their entirety every single semester.

Ultimately though, as an instructor, I really am a facilitator.  A helper.  An enabler (though not in the colloquial sense of the word).  A mentor, at times.  And in this role, it's important to remember that students aren't an obstacle - they are an objective.  We are in a partnership, which is a two-way street, and I think it's only fair that I make an effort to hold myself to no greater or lesser a standard than I hold my students.  I will keep up my end of the bargain as I expect them to keep up theirs.  I will treat them as I want and expect to be treated myself.

And the fact of the matter is, if we want to have jobs and create a better world, we need them as badly as they need us.