Editor for this issue: Ljuba Veselinova <lveselin
emunix.emich.edu>
A couple of months ago, in LINGUIST 6-1322, i posted an invitation for discussion, either private or public, on the question of whether teaching were an honourable/prestigious occupation for a serious scholar, particu- larly a linguistic researcher, or not, and how this issue is perceived by various classes of academics. A few people posted comments on the List. Many more got in touch with me privately. And of these, several had things to say that were very pri- vate indeed, and which therefore will not be included in this summary except in highly generalized form. For the same reason, i am not going to provide a list of the people who got in touch with me personally; you know who you are, and i thank you all. I shall not, however, scruple to cite by name and e-mail address those scholars whose comments were publicly posted in LINGUIST. My original posting was prompted by several things, including two remarks that i had recently come across, one in LINGUIST and the other elsewhere. The one was a comment by Roman Jakobson about a student of Saussure's named Winteler whose views, while brilliant, were too far in advance of his time, with the result that he `lived out his days as a mere school- teacher'. Several people pointed out that what was at issue in Jakobson's story was not so much that Winteler was teaching as opposed to doing research but that he was teaching in a Gymnasium (i.e. a secondary school) rather than a university. While this clarification is relevant and suggests that my query was prompted in part by a not-entirely-appropriate stimulus, it is to some extent tangential. I suspected, when i first read the Jakobson quote, that *part* of what was being lamented was Winteler's being stuck with a secondary-school position rather than a university position, but i was not confident that that was the *whole* of it. For one thing, it happened that right about the same time i came across this story i also came across a quote from a curator at one of the musea in the Smithsonian Institution, commenting that one of the nice things about his job was not having to teach. As though this were a desirable thing. Whether Winteler in particular was to be pitied because he had to make his living as a teacher or as a schoolteacher, it's obvious that there are scholars out there who hate and despise teaching and either wish they never had to do it or are very grateful they don't. For another thing, i think (1) a good elementary- or secondary-school teacher can have a much more pervasive (although indirect) influence on society than almost any university professor and (2) responsible linguis- tic scholarship needs to enter the curriculum at a much earlier stage than it does (i recently had occasion to amend slightly what my 12-year- old son was being taught about pidgins and creoles). Indeed, i have occa- sionally toyed with the idea of getting a secondary-school teacher's cer- tificate so as to contribute in this area myself, university jobs being so hard to come by. Leo Connolly <connollyMail to author|Respond to list|Read more issues|LINGUIST home page|Top of issuemsuvx1.memphis.edu> said in LINGUIST 6-1328 `who could disagree that it was a waste to have [Winteler] teaching a bunch of obstreporous Quartaner instead of serious university students?' Perhaps it's different in Europe (i was very pleased with the quality of the undergraduates i taught in Budapest), but my experience here in the States has been that the frequency of obstreporous undergraduates can be almost as high as that of obstreporous high-school students (some of my private respondents confirmed this, either expressing for themselves or reporting as characteristic of others an attitude towards undergraduates that some of us might feel was more appropriate toward secondary-school students). And on the other hand, in either case mixed in with those students who would rather be doing anything else there are almost always some who are ready and willing to absorb knowledge and scholarship like a sponge and who exhibit a real wonder and delight at what they are of- fered. And it is such students who are the teacher's greatest reward. Speaking for myself, i would like to have the opportunity someday to teach graduate students, to supervise doctoral research, etc. But if i had to choose between teaching only graduate students and only under- graduates, i would unhesitatingly choose the latter. For one thing, by explaining the fundamentals of my trade to bright, inquisitive, but `un- initiated' students i will inevitably refine not only my presentation of such material but my understanding thereof; in my opinion, a scholar who resents having to make such explanation is close to condemning hannself to intellectual stultification. Furthermore, it is a bright undergradu- ate who is most likely to challenge the most basic tacit assumptions and, ultimately, to point out that the Emperor has no clothes. And since my own primary scholarly interests are in the direction of such fundamental criticism, i am convinced that interaction with a few bright undergradu- ates would be of great value to my research. A common theme in many responses, both public and private, was the rela- tionship between teaching and research. One respondent noted an event at a certain university, in which a number of very talented people left the linguistics department to organize a linguistics research center which could concentrate on research with a significant reduction in teaching, and that only on a voluntary basis. According to my respondent, the general consensus in the university was sympathetic: you couldn't expect such high-level researchers to waste their time teaching. As a sometime affiliate of the Linguistics Research Institute of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, i was struck by the apparent difference between this situa- tion and the one obtaining in Budapest. The Institute in Hungary was, historically, made up of scholars who as a result of their progressive views (e.g., generativity) which it was feared might `infect' their stu- dents were denied the right to teach back around 1960. When the Commu- nist government fell, the Institute explicitly petitioned (successfully) to have its teaching rights restored. Obviously, the high-powered lin- guistic researchers in Budapest were not satisfied just doing research. One of my private respondents in particular pointed out that teaching and research are logically different skills: `some brilliant researchers are terrible teachers, and some brilliant teachers are terrible researchers. But in the US, a university teaching position is about the only way to be paid to do research in many fields'. There are some fortunate individu- als who are good at both, and some of these are even lucky enough to get academic jobs. But in a great number of cases universities, partly out of necessity, hire someone who's good at one and then compel hann to do the other, with the result that you end up getting teachers who hate re- search and researchers who despise teaching. (Another respondent noted `more and more academics seem to end up teaching courses which do not interest them, or which are outside their competence, because institu- tions are obliged to offer these courses but will not hire more teaching staff.' Of course, there is also the problem that often enough these days the institutions in question can't afford to hire more teaching staff. My concern is partly about those that, judging from the ads they post, can afford to hire more staff but may prefer to hire researchers instead of teachers.) Marie Gam <teacher
amanda.dorsai.org> -- note the pride in her vocation exhibited in her e-mail login -- in LINGUIST 6-1328 spoke of the old clich'e, `Those who can, do, and those who can't, teach': `There was a time, when I was much younger, and long before I had taught my first class, when I thought this sounded quite fine and correct. ... Once I was forced into a classroom situation, I found that I truly loved teaching, that I found it very envigorating and enjoy- able ... I also found that I could learn from my expe- riences with my students, in ways that I might not out- side the classsroom. I also discovered to my great amazement that I *was* a teacher. ... I have taught alongside folks who found it to be the most miserable chore. They were often not very good at it. From those experiences, I have formulated my own take on the issue: "Some people are teachers and some people have to teach". Those who have to teach are probably the ones who down the profession of teaching. Those who are teachers are probably having too much fun to worry about it.' This is all very well, as far as it goes, and i couldn't agree more. Except that Ms. Gam has left out one significant category: those who are teachers by vocation but have little or no opportunity to actually teach. Talk about misery ... One of my private respondents raised an interesting problem: being `pegged' or `pigeonholed' as a `teacher' (as opposed to a `researcher') merely because one has expressed a concern about teaching quality. Having done so, one finds oneself permanently shunted away from any serious research activity. What if one is equally concerned about both? Or even, perish forbid, equally good at both? Alex Monaghan <alex
compapp.dcu.ie> in LINGUIST 6-1350 raised the impor- tant further question: never mind what we think of each other, what do the university administrators who are in his words `empowered to hire, fire and overtire us' think of our activities? (This category was, in fact, included in my original posting.) His perception, based on hiring and promotion decisions in various universities of the British Isles, is that these administrators don't care about teaching at all: (1) [The promotion procedure] gives more research opportunities to those who may already have the most. It is assumed that we all wish to do research, and that the reward for a good academic is more research time. It further assumes that re- search performance is the best index of academic [quality]. The logical conclusion is that the good guys do research and the bad guys teach. Is that what our masters really think? (2) The fact that the majority of a university's income comes from teaching does not seem to matter. In the UK, the push for more publications before a government assessment is enor- mous, but there is no similar push for better teaching mate- rials or more contact hours. Granted, teaching is harder to measure objectively and publication counts are easy, but which tells us more about the university's output? (3) It is rare indeed for academics to be given training in how to teach, and even rarer for them to have a pedagogic quali- fication. Why is the PhD so valued, but the teaching certi- ficate not? In indirect response to this last issue, another of my respondents ques- tioned the assumption that all one needs to qualify as a `teacher' (at the university level) is to `know the material'. This is, of course, patently inadequate; anyone who's ever been to a scholarly conference knows there are some lecturers who are better than others. And a good teacher does a lot more than lecture. That things can be as bad in the United States as anywhere else was noted by one respondent who rather pithily remarked, `All you need to do is look at the U.S. university system that rewards talented researchers with tenure and talented teachers with a nice recommendation for their next job search.' However, another respondent told me of a recent incident at one American university in which several faculty members failed their tenure reviews `on account of their teaching' (judging from context, i presume this means `on account of the poor quality of their teaching'). So there may be hope yet. My own take on the roles of teaching and research in a university setting is as follows: The university has basically three interrelated roles to serve within society: it is responsible for the *storage*, for the *desemination*, and for the *increase* of knowledge and wisdom. The storage function is, of course, served primarily by university libraries, etc. The desimination function means that storage by itself isn't enough, the university must also actively make the knowledge and wisdom it stores available to the society it serves. This function is served partly by the libraries as well, but mostly through teaching and various similar activities. And the increase of the store of knowledge and wis- dom is, of course, primarily the goal of the university's research activ- ities. These three functions are indissolubly interconnected; i agree that, at the university level, teaching and research must go hand-in-hand and each must contribute to the other. One of my respondents raised the question of whether this connection is as vital in 2- and 4-year colleges, which don't grant advanced/research degrees. I don't know about *vital*, but as it happens i got my bachelor's degree from such an institution, in which several of my professors were actively involved in research as well as teaching, and i am strongly of the opinion that my education profited thereby. Of course, i was already at the time contemplating an academic career, which may colour my perceptions in this area. I also got a lot of messages from fellow linguists asserting that they individually (and in some cases collectively) would do just about any- thing for a chance to do some teaching, including doing it for free. To all these i can only say, I know how you feel. And i don't believe a word of the excuses their respective institutions are brushing them off with, i've heard it all myself. At present i have a strong suspicion that there is a lot of very good linguistics teaching not being done through lack of opportunity and blindness to such cases, and not only our field but our society are going to suffer for it someday. That's the summary of the responses to my original question about the prevalence among scholars and administrators of `the notion that teaching is an onerous task whose practitioners would prefer to shun it, and that gifted scholar/researchers are wasted on classes.' I'm rather hoping that posting this summary will spur some further discussion of this issue. Best, Steven --------------------- Dr. Steven Schaufele 712 West Washington Urbana, IL 61801 217-344-8240 fcosws
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