Warning: if you don’t think teaching is a performance, you probably shouldn’t read this post. Just go back to reading The Chronicle of Higher Ed, believing that looks don’t matter, and assuring yourself that wisdom communicates itself like some sort of naturally-occurring phenomenon.
“It’s 70% how you look, 20% how you sound, and only 10% what you say.” Eddie Izzard is also a great model for wearing fabulous clothes and fudging dates you’re forgotten.
In grad school, pedagogy came down to this assumption: “if you really know your stuff well, good teaching will follow naturally!”
Total and utter bullshit.
In my experience, you actually learn something by teaching it. And passing a test on the material means nothing about your teaching ability. Classroom authority can’t rest on mere knowledge anyway — the kids always come up with weird questions that you won’t know the answers to. And without a little dramatic training, you’re gonna be so freaked out you’ll forget whatever you do know when you stand in front of the audience.
The kids are a tough crowd. They know that you can find most things online, so they’re not sure what you’re there for anyway, unless you know everything just like the computer does. You’re also fighting short attention spans, texting addictions, and overscheduled apathy at every turn. So you’d damn well better have some stage presence and improv skills.
Ergo my radical teaching theory: authority first, knowledge second. No, you know what, if EW can go around using the word gravitas for no apparent reason, I’m gonna say we need us some classroom auctoritas (owk-TOR-ih-tahs) — Latin for “authority” which, according to some scholars, means that you’re in charge by the willing consent of your audience. You know who does that best? Standup comedians.
I know what you’re going to say. “WoPro,” you’ll ask, “since we’re teachers, shouldn’t we be going for some sort of dignified authority?”
No, you should not. Unless you’re a fifty-plus British dude, that whole dignified teacher thing is not going to happen, and failed attempts at dignity are the best way to look like a buffoon. In my experience, the kids do not respond to noble pathos anyway — they’ve been raised on The Simpsons and The Daily Show and Colbert. Also, and just trust me on this, playing the role of “dignified professor” when you’re not one is truly exhausting. At least most standups play a version of themselves, which is about what you want.
Just accept that you’re up there to entertain the little buggers. Realize that you’re probably going to make an ass of yourself. And own it. Then and only then will you find the zen art of non-authoritative authority.
Don’t believe me? Go see a standup, live — a good one, not a hack. If you think it’s hard to own a classroom, watch Jon Oliver, Lewis Black, Eddie Izzard, or Sommore own entire auditoriums of people. (Russell Brand, too, but his sexually-charged swagger isn’t classroom-appropriate, especially around small children.)
By accepting your limits, you stop apologizing for them; by owning your idiocy, you gain authority. Have you ever watched a great physical comedian? They look out of control, but they’re not. Same thing here.
Community’s Danny Pudi is a gifted physical comedian. While you’re teaching, try envisioning yourself doing this dance.
And ladies, I can’t emphasize this enough: you really have to think about stage presence, because the audience is going to grant you less authority to begin with and your body language will betray you at every turn. So wear heels (chunky, not sexy) to establish yourself as alpha. Shoulders back, chest out, don’t twitch and don’t cower. If you have any energy left, try speaking more slowly and deliberately than you’re used to — this is a “masculine” speech trait. I know it sucks to have to think about this more than guys, but you just do.
So now that I’ve revealed my secret approach, you can try it out on your own students. And kids, maybe you can put down the PPD’s momentarily to appreciate how much work that teacher is putting into entertaining you? ‘Cause that would be a swell way to start the semester.
Awesome statement here. I’ve never technically taught kids–only a few ‘archaeological learning’ days and some Professor-aid weekly discussion sections, but I know ALOT of teachers, and they have all said the same thing. Presence is everything. And from the little, tiny bit of experience I do have, I would have to agree as well.
Yeah, I think the same advice applies to pretty much anyone having to give a presentation. It’s cool that you get to do some “learning days” stuff.
Edutaining is indeed an aspect of teaching, but students know when you overdo it and respond in kind, especially if you keep talking, standup style. Many of them may actually be better than you at it, so you need to be absolutely genuine, which can’t happen if you desperately want to impress.
Ditto re attire. Some days you may feel like wearing stiletto heels (these come handy as a an educational metaphor), other days you go in flip-flops and shorts. It doesn’t really matter if you can pull it off. It takes time to shed the focus on how you look or act, but it’s worth it.
Finally, if you find yourself in a classroom full of adults, the rules change. I often have students who are Ph.D.s in this or that, so the owk-TOR-ih-tahs comes in a different shape. Flexibility is the key.
True. I’ve had some of my best Colbertian moments when doing presentations for PhDs.
How I am going to ‘make an ass of myself’ is probably the highlight of the beginning of the year for me, haha.
Spot on with this one! I actually did the slower speaking experiment at the start of last year and it was I was amazed at the effect. Some kids thought I was ‘retarded’ but for others it them from acting out since they could understand what I was asking of them. Anyways, the start of the year is fast approaching. One more week of peaceful bliss.
Keep the demented tips coming!
Enjoy your week! And I’m glad you found good effect with the speaking thing. I really had to concentrate hard on that one, so when I was tired I think I fell down on the job.
This post came at a perfect time (ok I’m late, so a few days ago). I am dreading (to the umpteenth power) the fact that I have to TA a Modern Popular Music course for freshmen starting a week from now. Your posts here are providing me with both ammo and relief! I’m going to come back to this one every time I grit my teeth!
Modern Popular music? Does that mean you’re teaching Lady Gaga and stuff?? I’m embarrassed to admit that sounds kind of fun. But good luck with it!