https://blog.ualberta.ca/what-really-matters-now-with-compassion-we-can-help-our-students-b92d5b9cb3d This call for compassion from the Vice Provost and Dean of Students (is that one title or two?) at UAlberta is so representative of a certain genre that I feel I can write one of my own. "I made a bot read 10,000 letters from academics during COVID", etc.
Introduction (7 paragraphs of a 4-minute read here): students are under a lot of stress. They're in living situations that are far from ideal, they're worried about loved ones, they're dealing with financial stress, their mental health is suffering, and they have schoolwork.
All true, nothing objectionable there.
Paragraph 8: "What matters right now is that we don’t pile it on. What matters right now is that we give them space to learn how to deal. What matters right now is that we make it easier, not more difficult."
Yes, be compassionate. Sure.
Paragraph 8: "What matters right now is that we don’t pile it on. What matters right now is that we give them space to learn how to deal. What matters right now is that we make it easier, not more difficult."
Yes, be compassionate. Sure.
Paragraph 9: "They will remember us": students will remember how we treated them during this unusual term. They will remember whether we were cruel or compassionate. Again - sure. We should be sensitive to our students' needs during this very unusual term. No argument there.
Paragraph 10 is where the Vice-Provost and Dean of Students leans all the way in and either forgets what a university is or decides that its central mission doesn't matter: "They won’t remember that course material. They won’t remember what was on that test or that assignment."
This is an insult to faculty. Do I think my students are going to retain everything I taught them this term? Do I think my course is their #1 priority? Of course not. (True in Precedented Times, too.) But if I don't think my course material is relevant, then WHAT AM I DOING?
"They will remember what they learned about how to deal. They will teach the next generation. What matters now is that we teach them how to teach the next ones who come along."
If you really believe this, then give your faculty a break and put all your academic programs on hold.
If you really believe this, then give your faculty a break and put all your academic programs on hold.
"What matters now, is that we help them deal....What really matters now is compassion." In what universe is a professor lecturing 100 students over Zoom the best-positioned individual to provide this? You go to a therapist to "deal". You go to your loved ones for compassion.
"If you know of a student — or if you are a student — in need of assistance, please contact my office." Okay, finally a resource and an offer of assistance instead of just a guilt trip. It only took the Vice-Provost and Dean of Students twelve paragraphs to get there.
Thirteenth and final paragraph: "And if you’re one of the people helping students through this, whether you’re faculty or staff, we’re here to help you help them. Take care of yourselves, so we can all take care of our students."
You want to help us? Here's how:
You want to help us? Here's how:
1. Acknowledge that faculty were hired for our subject matter expertise and in some cases for our teaching. We were not hired as therapists. For the most part, we have no particular expertise in "how to deal" and are not positioned to provide instruction in this area.
2. Affirm the importance of academic work even under these challenging circumstances. In this context, compassion means providing accommodation for students who are struggling, so that they can learn the material on their own time. It does not mean exempting students from this.
3. Recognize that for the most part, your faculty have been rising to this challenge without being compensated for a fraction of our extra efforts. "Students will not remember the course material" sends the message that we did all this for nothing. Nothing is worse for morale.
This piece, by the way, is a lightly-edited version of a piece that was originally published on April 17, a month into the crisis. We were all scrambling back then. We've now had nine months to adjust; many of us were instructed to dedicate the summer to the adjustment.
The extra time paid off. On April 17, I was mostly trying to keep my head above water. I made the most of the last five weeks of the spring term. By contrast, I went into this term determined to make it work. And I'm not too humble to say that for the most part, it did.
That's your legacy, Vice-Provost and Dean of Students (is that 1 6-figure salary or 2?): faculty and students who made this work. There are so many success stories from this term that you could highlight. Your faculty and students are more resilient than you give them credit for.