Irwin
L. Morris
Teaching and
Learning: My Personal Perspective
Though I did not realize it at the
time, I must have developed a predisposition towards the academic life at a
relatively early age. Born during the
last years of my father’s graduate work in chemistry, a good portion of my
childhood was spent playing with beakers and test tubes, rummaging through
library shelves, and writing on chalkboards.
Several relatives were or are teachers (my mother, father, and
grandmother). Ironically, I married a
teacher whose mother was a teacher. If
it is possible to be destined for the classroom, I was. Maybe because I was immersed in an academic
environment from an early age (and maybe not), I have difficulty with the
conventional educational wisdom manifested in the college classrooms I sat in
as both an undergraduate and a graduate student.
To begin, I find the distinction between teacher and
student artificial and misleading.
While we may take the role of either “student” or “teacher” in any
particular classroom setting, the best instructional environments are those in
which students and teachers are able to teach each other and learn from each
other. Regardless of class size (large
lecture section or small graduate seminar) or student background (first-term
freshmen, senior majors, or graduate students), I encourage interactive
learning. Even in large lecture
sections, I regularly solicit student input and discussion, and I emphasize the
significance of attending and participating in discussion sections. In senior-level and graduate courses, I
often require students to “take the podium” to present material or discuss
class readings. And group projects are
required in many of my courses.
Effective skill development and knowledge
acquisition, at least in political science, are not distinct activities. An overemphasis on either can prove to be
quite problematic. While I attempt to
cultivate the use and improvement of critical thinking and communication skills
in my classes, I try not to forget how difficult it is to develop these skills
in an intellectual vacuum. It is one
thing to teach critical thinking and communication skills in isolation. It is something else, entirely, to
facilitate students’ efforts to solve real problems and answer interesting
questions by thinking critically about the situation at hand and communicating
their thoughts and insights to others who are addressing similar problems or
questions. Likewise, without the
thinking and communication skills necessary for using and applying the
knowledge we have or will acquire, knowledge itself is not particularly
useful. The most enriching learning
environments are those in which skill development and knowledge acquisition are
integrated in an effective and meaningful way.
From my experience, this occurs when important theoretical questions
and/or significant societal problems are focal points throughout the course and
when students are regularly expected to actively address these questions and
problems on a regular basis.
Next, I think the distinction between work and fun is overdone in many
classrooms. I love what I do. While hard work is certainly part of the job
(e.g. grading exams), I enjoy much of what I do on a regular basis. In certain circumstances (that are,
admittedly, all too rare), I find my work—as teacher and researcher—especially
rewarding. Over time I have come to
realize that these special times all share two common traits: they involved both hard work and having
fun. I have had the opportunity to do
research with a very small number of very bright, very capable undergraduates
and graduate students. During these
research projects (two of which are still ongoing), the workload is often
obscene—late nights, early mornings, and uncountably many cups of coffee, but
it is also just plain fun. This “fun”
is not an irrelevant by-product of our working together; it is an integral part of the learning
process. I find that fun and creativity
often go hand in hand, and I am at my most productive when I am able to think
creatively. I expect this is true for
my colleagues and students.
Finally, I consider humor a fundamental component of
a productive learning environment.
During my college and graduate school days, humor played a relatively
small role in the classroom. My
professors rarely made a conscious effort to use humor as a pedagogical tool,
but when they did it was almost always memorable and effective. My experience in the classroom suggests that
students respond to humor, and I think they do so for at least two
reasons. First, humor can be used to
establish a less threatening classroom environment. If students can laugh together (and they notice that they are
laughing together), it makes it much easier for them to work together and to
learn together. Second, humor often
forces us to consider issues or ideas from a different perspective. Often, we laugh because we see the common or
the conventional in a new and different way—from my perspective, the very
essence of learning.