Currently upset by today’s piece about a professor who makes his students turn in cell phones at the beginning of class. (I am not going to link to the piece, because I have no interest in sending a dumpster fire of clicks at the irresponsible #edu publication.)
The basic thesis of the piece (not actually a direct quote):
“Others may have good reasons for treating students like human beings. I just decided not to.” The piece is so paternalistic and cruel that I wouldn’t have been surprised to read these exact words.
“Others may have good reasons for treating students like human beings. I just decided not to.” The piece is so paternalistic and cruel that I wouldn’t have been surprised to read these exact words.
To summarize his method (and this is a direct quote), “What I have is a poster board at the front of the classroom with their names on it. The students leave their phones in the spot with their name when they come in; thus, I can quickly check attendance using the board.”
I find the architecture of this extremely patronizing. There’s a constant and concrete reminder at the front of the classroom that it’s a space of distrust and suspicion. The ceremony of having students place their devices upon their names could be a scene from a dystopian novel.
The piece is full of moments where the writer generalizes about students: “I was teaching a first-year writing course during the spring semester, a time when our weaker students usually enroll.” He has made up his mind about who his students are before they even walk in the room.
It gets worse: “At our institution, we have a number of students who, often through no fault of their own, are not as well prepared for college as we might hope -- whether that’s because they came from poor educational backgrounds or because they’re first-generation students...”
Rather than create opportunities for students, this writer has decided to strictly control behavior, acknowledging that it is “struggling” students who are the primary cause and reason for his policy. Rather than ask those students what they need to succeed, he decides for them.
An anecdote about one of those students: “He actually missed passing by just a couple of points. He also dropped out of college after that semester, even though the class he took with me was the only one he failed.” The sentence itself points to a problem other than the student.
The writer attempts to anticipate critique, but significantly misrepresents that critique: “Here is where many people would say I’m not letting students learn how to self-regulate.” My biggest issue here is not self-regulation but the patronizing phrase “letting students learn.”
It goes on: “One student in a first-year writing class did ask if I was allowed to take the phones, and I assured him I was. He never raised the issue again.” The writer says students don’t raise a fuss and even thank him for his policy. His approach creates no space for dissent.
And if it hadn’t gotten dystopian enough: “This year, I’ve added smartwatches to the devices they’ll need to leave on the poster board, and that approach has helped remove a few minor distractions I noticed last year.” Wow.
I wonder what the professor will take from students next year. And worry after students who use their watches to monitor health conditions. And what happens when a phone rings because of an emergency? Should a student with a family member in the hospital just not come to class?
He continues: “I haven’t banned laptops yet, given that some students do require them. But I strongly discourage students from using them.” Who is he to decide when and how a disabled student should use an assistive device?
My thesis and larger reason for posting this thread: ableism, racism, classism, sexism, and general disdain for students is deeply engrained in the way some faculty talk about students. The devices in the classroom “debate” is rarely actually about laptops or cell phones.
What we need to be talking about are all the other issues that get implicated by articles like this one.
Who are our students? Why are they here in our classrooms? What challenges did they face getting there? What level of basic respect do teachers and institutions owe to students? How does that basic respect help them learn?
Distrust, suspicion, and patronizing, ableist policies are much more distracting than laptops and cell phones.
