With an assignment looming one suddenly gets to see your students in ways often hidden from direct view. This strange period in the academic calendar also offers the student an opportunity to seek out and engage with their lecturers in ways probably unimaginable when they first walked through the classroom doors. Over the past two weeks I've had some interesting encounters with my students - moments that have forced me to think differently about these individual human beings, their struggles, their experiences and their expectations. Here are short descriptions of some of these moments.
A rather proud Xhosa student of mine came to my office after class to tell me that his father had died the previous weekend in a car accident. I felt a slight sting of shame, as just 40 minutes before, I had rebuked him for not having done the preparatory readings for the session. He explained as best he could, while trying to maintain an emotionless disposition befitting of his status as the oldest son, how hard it was for him to have to inform his mother and sisters of his father's death. He was also preparing himself to be in the company of his mostly female immediate family as all the funeral arrangements were made and the eventual ceremony in the Eastern Cape attended. We spoke about the possibility of an extension and I explained what procedures he needed to follow for this request.
On the same day another male student of mine spoke to me about his rather tenuous accommodation situation. He was living in a single room in Khayelitsha in a house of a friend of his family. He didn't know the family personally and unfortunately it wasn't suitable - not least because of the travelling and the expectations that he had to help-out with the housekeeping - both these factors were impacting on this studies. He clearly needed to move out, but had not been very successful in securing alternative accommodation options. As a first year student, his chances of getting into a residence at this late stage were slim. This week I received an e-mail from him asking for an extension and explaining that he had to move out and was practically homeless.
During a remedial assignment preparation session I scheduled with my classes I sat with a group of about five mostly Xhosa students. They kept calling me Ma'am - something that had occurred throughout the term even though I specifically asked students to call me 'Lynn' at my first class. Again I said rather sternly 'Don't call me Ma'am, my name is Lynn'. Maybe because of the intimate setting, they immediately expressed their discomfort. 'We can't call you Lynn, it's disrespectful' someone said. Now, I know this, right? Most of my students have had 12 years of schooling, mostly in some or other township where authoritative rules always apply. They also come from a highly hierarchical socio-cultural environment where children, young adults and students need to know their place in relation to adults and especially lecturers at the university. Even in our department its very unusual for students to be on first-name terms with their lecturers. They lamented at how their parents would be most disapproving if they knew, their sons and daughters were calling me on my first name. We had a long discussion about the different ways in which respect can be shown. Through my attempts to convince these young people why it REALLY was ok to call me on my first name, I had to reflect on my own reasons and underpinning philosophies for this stance. I was reminded of my adult education inspired humanist values and how this simple (almost unthinkable) action so strongly attempted to signal an egalitarian approach to education. As a lecturer I really don't need a title to signal my status and power - surely its already conferred on me by virtue of the institutional structures which both my students and I are apart of? But of course while I know this, I'm also critical of this stance. The question for me of course is, shouldn't I be more accepting of my students, their socio-cultural background and find ways to alleviate their discomfort rather than accentuate it by insisting on these rather foreign naming conventions? Well no! As we discussed, different contexts call for different practices and we all have to get used to this in our daily interactions with people in different settings. They will have to come to understand that in my class calling me on my first name is not a sign of disrespect and doesn't in any way diminish my authority. Of course this rule might not apply to my colleagues and their classes and my students will have to change their approaches accordingly. As we ended our conversation one of the young men in the group sheepishly said 'Yes, Lynn' and everyone else giggled nervously. Later, thinking back on this short interaction which forced me to really consider an almost unconscious aspect of my classroom practice - I felt grateful that my students could help me reconnect with this practically hidden, but defining aspect of my teaching self.
