Let sleeping students lie?: Using interpersonal activities to engage disengaged students

College Student Journal, March, 2002 by Michelle M. Merwin

Frequently students become disengaged from the material and their teachers. How can disengaged students become more engaged with the material and their professor? What do students mean when they say that they want their professors to care about them? By use of example, the author examines the importance of fostering interpersonal relationships to engage disengaged students. The author presents examples that show how interpersonal relations can be fostered in the classroom via informal writing, interpersonal demonstrations, and the use of empathy and humor. Further the importance of teacher self-exploration and the role of leadership in fostering interpersonal relationships with students is examined.

**********

This is my first year of teaching. Recalling experiences and lessons learned is like thumbing through the pages of a yearbook. Yet behind each yearbook picture there is a story. I see disruptive students, sleeping students, unfocused, distracted students -- students who are disengaged. I have the urge to scream at the sea of impassive faces, "please care about something!" Okay, I am exaggerating -- only a small portion of my students behave like this, but it's the five of 65 that haunt me. Too often, disruption feels more welcome to me than the expressions of impassivity and boredom. Yet disruption and impassivity stem from the same source: disengagement. I wonder about ways to engage the students, ways to make them care about the material as much as I do. In managing the classroom, I focus on the students and their needs. I look for answers. Three pictures convey what I see, each event bringing my perceptions into sharper focus.

There is a snapshot of an old campus sassafras tree. Because of its aged and forlorn state, the maintenance department decides that the old tree needs to be cut down. For safety's sake, they announce the tree's demise over campus e-mail. The cutting of the old sassafras causes quite a commotion among the faculty, especially senior members. I wonder why people are so attached to this old tree -- indeed, to me, it is a bit of an eyesore. I learn that this tree is loved not for its present appearance, but for what it symbolizes. In its younger years, it had been beautiful, distinctive even. Moreover, a beloved former chancellor enjoyed the tree's uniqueness so much that he had imprinted a silhouette of the tree on his stationery. On this sleepy campus, the battle raging via faculty e-mail is enticing. Poems are written. Views are forcefully expressed. What do the students have to say about the old sassafras tree? One student tells me: "I wish that the faculty would care that much about us."

The next picture is of a devastating car accident. Nine of our university's baseball players and the head coach are in a severe auto accident. A semi-truck hit the van that carried the ten men. All survive, but two face a long recuperation from critical injuries. As I watch the local news to learn about the accident, the reporters interview students, specifically asking them to talk about the coach. What do the students say? They say things like, "Coach cares more about the person than the player. He is concerned about how the person is, not only how well he performs." "Coach always takes the time to talk to his students." "He's a great teacher who cares about his students."

Clearly, caring is important to students. But what does caring mean? What do students need? I am paid to teach psychology, not to care for them. I am paid to be their teacher, not their mother.

The third picture shows me sitting at my desk reading the campus newspaper. I read the satirical column that poses questions to students and prints humorous, outrageous responses. Recently, they published student answers to the question, "How do you feel the faculty treats you as a student?" Some students respond:

"Like we are invisible."

"Some of them are really willing to help you; then there's my English teacher."

"Some of the staff are sour on the world."

"I can't really pinpoint it, some treat you good and some treat you like crap."

"Ouch." I grimace. I know that when asked to, students will speak bluntly. I also recognize that it's cool to be negative and generally, the wilder the comments, the better. Although I know dozens of professors who genuinely care about their students, the comments speak to me. After reading them, I can no longer resist asking my students what they want or need from faculty. So I ask them, "How can the faculty show students that they care?" Here are some of their responses:

Don't blow off complaints and suggestions.

Learn our names.

Encourage instead of discourage.

Develop some type of personal relationship with us.

Avoid composing tests that look like they want us to fail.

Treat us as individuals.

Be willing to meet with students.

Send us letters of encouragement for hard work.

Be understanding.

Talk to students before and after class.

Take a personal interest in me when I don't do well on an exam and try to help me do better.