It’s easy to forget that you’re even in a classroom while on the edge of your seat, ears perked toward the professor delivering what might as well be the most amazing TED talk you’ve ever heard.
At the conclusion of the lecture, while your mind is buzzing with enthusiasm and satisfaction, a stack of papers begins circulating the room. Before you know it, you’ve been hit with an eight-page essay assignment. Suddenly, the lesson seems dull — useless, even. Now you have to write all about it. Too many classic novels have been ruined for me because of the dreadful work I’ve been assigned to complete by the time I reach the last page. I love reading. I love the class discussion of the text, hearing what different people thought of the novel and how each of my classmates interpreted things a bit differently. I love learning about the author's life and the historical context of the novel’s construction.
I think to myself, “What a terrific read, I’m so happy I was exposed to this text. Perhaps I’ll run through it again over the summer" — until I have to churn out yet another essay comparing and contrasting two works or worse, a critical analysis of one text.
I’ve written papers examining novels through a Modernist lens, a feminist lens — every lens but my own. As I finish typing the paper, I look toward the novel I once loved, now crammed with multicolored Post-it Notes and think, “I can’t wait to send this book back to Chegg. I’ll never recommend it to anyone.”
As a poetry major, I take a lot of classes that require students to workshop each other's poems.
Some student will finish reading his work aloud, and just as I’m about to give a standing ovation, another student will raise his hand and say, “I’m not sure about the voice. I don’t know who is speaking.”
I know we’re supposed to help each other improve our work, but sometimes I just want to shout, “This is art. Take it or leave it.”
What happened to simply enjoying something for what it is? What happened to savoring something and letting it stew, even if its meaning isn’t clear right off the bat?
The problem doesn’t just affect arts majors. Science and engineering students suffer under the same dull, monotonous assignments to prove they’ve engaged with their coursework. Friends of mine who study engineering, chemistry and neuroscience all complain of having to solve dozens of complex homework problems in order to demonstrate comprehension.
At first, they are fascinated and inspired by the concepts of their professor’s lesson, but too many late nights spent hovering over textbooks with graphing calculators will leave even the most passionate student begging for the end of the semester.
The new ideas and innovative solutions that many young people could potentially offer are squelched when their malleable minds are pigeonholed into conventional square pegs.
The world changes more dramatically every day in our dawning global age. Isn’t it time to adapt our traditional teaching and evaluation practices? As social issues become more severe, the need for resolutions becomes all the more urgent.
New generations can offer new perspectives, but not if they’re learning via the same tired educational model as the previous one.
Reach the columnist at jwadler@asu.edu or follow him at @MrJakeWAdler
