‘There is no mistake; there has been no mistake; and there shall be no mistake’
Arthur Wellesley Duke of Wellington, ‘Wellingtoniana’ (1852), p.78
Why become a lecturer?
A rule of obtaining an academic position, inter alia verifiable by reviewing job postings for academic positions, is that teaching experience is a required standard that must be achieved along with a PhD in a relevant subject and publications. I will talk of the latter two requirements in other posts, but today’s writing will concentrate on the teaching aspect.
Without going into the ins and outs of my law school’s politics for teaching, it became evident that I was not going to be able to teach during this academic year. Imagine my surprise when my supervisor obtained permission for me to become a sessional lecturer with 3rd year undergraduate students teaching Employment Law. I was to conduct four seminars in one day during the second semester of the academic year.
I received some words of wisdom and even got to watch other sessional lecturers teach their classes and I applied these lessons to the university’s internal curse that is a requirement before a PhD researcher can teach. Then I received some sage advice. The students at the university were never in danger of being able to attend Oxford or Cambridge and most of them were in the law faculty due to clearing. I was advised not to expect too much.
The first mistake
I was cognisant that these students were graduating in 4 or 5 months. To become registered as either solicitors or barristers, the students have to complete their vocational training by completing the Solicitors Qualifying Examination (“SQE”) or the Bar Practice Course (“BPC”) respectively. Each course costs £15,000 approximately depending upon the course provider and where the student attends the course. I wanted to help them understand Employment Law the best they could, and I prepared the seminars with that goal in mind.
It became apparent that from the first minute of the first seminar, that nobody cared about Employment Law, that they had not done the required reading and had no intention of doing so. I tried to appeal to their impending situation and to give them insights into how competitive the market is out there.
Blank faces just looked back at me. I went through the slides I had prepared to no avail. I was enthusiastic and gave great anecdotes from practice. Nothing! After 6 weeks there were maybe 5 or 6 students who were determined to be lawyers and were putting the effort in. However, 139 students were enrolled on the Employment Law class, so to have 6 who were eager, was a bit of an eye opener.
The university I am attending for my PhD is not where I completed my undergraduate and graduate degrees. I was fortunate enough to study under excellent lecturers at the Dickson Poon School of Law at King’s College London. The level of the students during my graduate degree in International Financial and Commercial Law was exceedingly high and nearly everyone on the course was a practising lawyer. Many of them owned their own law firms. They were all very driven to succeed.
A bit of information goes a long way
In passing conversation, one of the other lecturers informed of two things I did not know. First, of the new law cohort of around 250 students, only 90 of them achieved the grade to qualify for entry into the law school. The remainder did not get the required grades and thus entered under clearing. Second, that most of the students on the optional Employment Law course, were Business and Law students, not Law students. I did not know it was an option either.
This new knowledge made me even more determined to help these students achieve the best results they could, and I doubled my efforts. That was the second mistake.
The politics (and fear) of academia
Prior to my latest seminar, the module leader knocks on the door of the PGR room and asks for a word with me. I will not go into detail, but the students had mentioned that my slides contained too much detail, and they could not take it all in. They did not have the time to study as they have other commitments etc. The module leader was there to scold me and tell me not to use slides to help the students.
I deferred to this suggestion and taught my latest session with no slides and additional information for the students. I just let them know what gaps there were in their knowledge. It felt hollow and empty to do this to the students.
Out of the blue later this week, the module leader held an online meeting with the other lecturers and me to discuss the student satisfaction survey. Out of all the students on the course, 8 students completed the survey. 1student (0.71% of the whole student cohort taking the subject) had commented about my slides being too detailed. Statistically, this did not make any difference. As the module leader said, “although statistically irrelevant, we have to act on all complaints”.
The next statement made me smile. Calling on me the module leader said, “Why don’t you tell us why this student feels you give them too much detail and why you use slides”? I did not try to defend myself, but suggested I thought we were there to help the students if they had gaps in their understanding of the subject matter.
It was quickly pointed out by one and all that I was naïve, inexperienced and wasting my time. The next statement the module leader made was the one that surprised me the most. “I made mistakes when I first started teaching”.
Clarification is a wonderful thing
An attempt was then made to move on to the next part of the survey, but I put a stop to that. I mentioned that my impression of teaching was to help students learn and improve, even if it was just one student. I had witnessed this type of behaviour first hand. A friend has been a schoolteacher for 30 years, so I had seen what it takes to be a successful teacher. My university lecturers recognised I was not one of their best students and they went out of their way to help me. I thought I should reciprocate this with these alleged sub-standard students in a sub-standard university. I did not think it was a mistake to help students. Oh, how I was wrong.
What I was to do is remember that the students had already had their lecture from the module leader. They had the slides from that lecture. They also had the reading list. The reason for the seminar was to ensure they had comprehended the material and to highlight where they were deficient in their understanding.
“But should we not help them if they require it”? I asked like some sort of mentally deficient halfwit. The resounding reply was that we should not. We should tell them that they need to read more.
Lessons learnt
The resounding lessons I learnt from my experience are that the vast majority of the students do not care and just want to pass. The staff are more concerned with getting great marks in the student surveys to further their careers and that new inexperienced lecturers should not rock the boat and help the students. They do not want the help anyway (apparently)!
I will of course toe the line in the future. I will not provide any slides to share and further knowledge within the university. I will do everything I can to ensure favourable comments within the student survey and reduce negative comments that I may be the cause of whether they are statistically relevant or not. I will endeavour to remind the students that they have to do more and will strive in my efforts not to help them know what that is or how to do it.
But it gets better. I am to mark 93 papers for the end of year assessment. I have 15 days to do this. It was acknowledged that as I have not done marking before, that I might need some guidance. I do not know what guidance I require or when I will receive it, but we will talk about that later. No time has been set aside for this guidance. Now I know what the students feel.
I am certain Wellington was correct when he said, “There is no mistake; there has been no mistake; and there shall be no mistake”. I must remember I need this on my CV for an academic position.