Teachers, be humble.
A psycho-engineering based approach to a better teaching and learning experience?
Psycho-what?
Before we get into this, let me give you some context.
2021 was an eventful year for me, and its closing chapters were extremely heavy. In December of 2021, I’d decided to take some time off. Off of not only work, but also my personal life and entire belief system. The reason for that was my recent understanding of a wonderful concept, to which I was extremely oblivious; the human Ego. The details of my journey with that might be worth a piece of its own at some point, but the end result and process are what led me to writing this post.
After having dismantled my entire political, religious, societal, and personal belief system, I was, in my mind, an ever-extremely curious individual, standing on the cloud of a persona of void, swaying back and forth, hungry to rediscover every shed of information I would receive, from an entirely new standpoint.
So, if I turn up my ego, I’m blocking myself away from everything that is not me, my understanding, my belief, my convictions, and that everything is probably infinite, as opposed to what actually is me, my understanding, my belief, and my convictions, which is merely a spec of dust in this universe (which might in turn be a spec of dust in this multiverse? 🤯).
Unfortunately, most of us were brought up with the false understanding that humility may be the same as being pretentious, living without a set of societal standards, and being too much of a wimp to stand up for what you believe in. This is what I’ve been brought up to believe, at least.
Fortunately, some have come to understand that humility is not about rejecting principles, beliefs, convictions, etc.; it’s simply about being okay with having these other convictions enter the realm of your sensory system. It’s okay for someone to say shit you disagree with. In fact, not only is it okay, it should be encouraged, and for 2 reasons:
Let’s face it you egoistic prick1, if someone rejected your convictions and beliefs, you’d be pretty pissed about it. Start behaving differently, and you’ll receive differently.
If we don’t become better versions of ourselves on a daily basis, what good are we for? And how can we make that happen if we refuse to subject our brain to new experiences, thoughts, feelings, opinions, perspectives, and philosophies?
So that was the psycho part of it.
Okay so what does all of this have to do with teaching?
Psycho-engineering
No, this is still not about the teaching part. But hang in there, it’s a sweet trip.
I’m an engineer, and believe it or not, I absolutely love being an engineer. My appreciation of engineering extends far more than the realm of software and the day-to-day things we try to build and operate. My appreciation for it went all the way to the brain. I’ve become obsessed with how a brain functions, why we’ve always believed it’s a computer - and I’ve learned that it’s most likely not - just - a computer. But here’s what I also learned:
Being someone who used to struggle with anxiety, and overthinking, I’ve been able to reverse engineer my brain, and, instead of trying to fight off my overthinking, which led to my anxiety, I was able to understand what overthinking is, how it happens, what it leads to, and what triggers it, allowing me to eventually leverage it to my own advantage.
Years of constant thinking, and relentless worrying, have gotten my brain acquainted with processing a shitload of information in a shorter timeframe than non-overthinkers. Now that’s my personal theory so don’t lash out on me.
Cherry on top? I’m empathetic; I am somehow able to pick up on people’s vibes. And no, I’m not talking about some next-level voodoo black magic claiming I can read people’s mind. Not even close. I can simply detect distress, happiness, worrying, excitement, etc., on others, easier than non-empaths would.
Eventually, I was able to describe the machine that’s operating the body; we’ve got an empathetic guy whose brain feasts on problem solving, who’s got some free time on his hands, and who very much enjoys connecting with people - who’s also been on lockdown away from people for the past 3 years.
Having finally understood all of that, I had the ability to tinker around with those neuron connections at a greater level of detail than I ever could. And what does the universe send my way?
A phone call
Yep, it sends a phone call. I’m sitting alone, enjoying my solitude, figuring out what to do, having a smoke, when I get a phone call. It was my professor from college, and he’s asking me if I’d be interested in teaching hands-on programming fundamentals for first year students.
My ego, defining me as a good output-generating engineer, consultant, lead, who’s been in the market for years, told me internally - screw you.
You’re an engineer, you’re not one to teach, now is not the time to make that shift, and some more bullshit, until I allowed my newly acquired humility to kick in - why the heck not?
Add to that:
The Lebanese market has been struggling to find quality developers.
Most senior developers have left the country, leaving juniors and students with little-to-no proper guidance.
So I figured, sign up for this, learn from it as much as you can, enjoy it as much as you can, let it let you evolve as much as it can.
And so it was. The moment that opened the door for one of the most wonderful, humbling experiences I’ve ever had.
How it Started
As my first day was nearing, thoughts started to race, and my brain started asking me what kind of teacher would I want to be? What kind of tone should I set in class? What kind of impression should I make? Should I be the hard-headed teacher who’s there to provide information? Should I be the easy-going guy who’s there to have fun? But what if they take advantage of that […]
Eventually I caught on to the trip of thoughts, and then I decided to reverse engineer that question too. And I asked myself:
What do you know now about programming that you wish someone taught you in college?
What kind of instructor would you have enjoyed having in class, assuming you weren’t the annoying little ass that you were a decade ago?
How would that instructor have contributed to you turning into the person you are today?
What traits from your seniors and leads at work would you have enjoyed seeing in an instructor?
What worked for you when you were a student?
What didn’t work for you when you were a student?
Now I had a list of the wants and don’t wants, it gave me the north star, the rest? I decided to wing it.
What I’ve Taught
I’m not going to write a paragraph about this. It doesn’t really give the topic of this post any justice. So I’ll jump right to
What I’ve Learned…
… and would appreciate it if you learned too.
The first pillar of winging something, for me, is turning on my receptors. Winging something means seeing how things go, and acting according to, well, how things are going. Now if I wanted to really wing this well, I needed to “see” how things go, clearly, unobstructed by my preferences and prejudice.
So I go into class, with a straight don’t-think-you-can-outsmart-me face, and an I’ve-done-what-you-think-you-can-do attitude, and a few minutes down the line, I could feel some unease, and for some reason I straight-out thought to myself, drop the act. Make contact with these people, then deal with everything else later.
And that’s what I did.
Lesson #1: Drop the act
Seriously. I understand that you might have written a ton of papers. I understand you regard yourself extremely highly. I understand you’ve gone through a lot to be called “Doctor”. I understand you believe these students may be beneath you - and if you’re an instructor and feel offended by this, that’s on you.
But for real, drop the act. This is the most efficient way for you to initially gain your students’ trust. Once you level with them, make them see that you’re just another human being, not a terror machine holding a red pen to control their GPA, you’ll enjoy those minutes, a LOT. Not to mention that you’ll allow hundreds of young people to enjoy those same minutes with you.
Practical steps: Call me Chris. Not Christophe, not Sir, not Seur, not Doctor, and definitely not Dakteer. Just call me Chris.
Earlier on during the semester, I challenged my students to a not-so-complex problem, but one too complex for their comfort. I provided them with minimal information, because I wanted to see how they’d go on about deciphering it both individually and collectively.
It took them less than 5 minutes to show signs of discomfort, but one student in particular caught my attention. She was this straight-A looking student, who’s always radiating with energy, even when solving problems, but with this particular problem that energy came to a stand-still. She didn’t ask me anything. She didn’t even look at me. She didn’t try to ask any of her friends. She was looking at the screen, as any other student would be.
So I walk up to her, ask her if there’s anything she needs help with. She had the audacity to say she didn’t need any help (I mean really?); but I could tell she’s hit a mental wall in there. I figured she was probably starting to panic a little.
Lesson #2: Listen
I couldn’t have noticed that had I just sat there, waiting for them to finish their assignment, so I can leave and carry on with my life. I was listening to them.
I had a good 5-minute talk with her, 10% of which was about the actual assignment, and the rest was me explaining that it’s okay, explaining what she might be going through, and telling her how she could better manage such a situation in the future.
She never froze again in my class2.
Fast-forward towards the middle of the semester, I had started working with CME on a part-time basis. One of the things I was needed for was helping in the expansion of our team of engineers. So I started learning about that realm more and more. One of the key points I’d learned was, as a leader in any team, asking for feedback is crucial to build trust and constantly enhance the process at any workspace, with minimal grinding in your gears. So I thought to myself, I might as well try that in class.
I learned more about my weaknesses as a teacher thanks to one question, than I could have ever learned in a lifetime on my own.
I started asking them for feedback about the assignments themselves, the lectures, my tone in class, how information was being conveyed, and I was in awe of how many things I, along with every other instructor out there, could be doing better if we just simply “ask”.
Lesson #3: Ask
And I don’t mean any of that “Please fill this 5-minute form, your identity will not be disclosed” bullshit that the department would send at the end of a semester. No. YOU, the instructor, need to own up and constantly enhance your game, on your own, not wait for your chair to tell you students are complaining.
After having started my new part-time job, at some point I was struggling with keeping up with whatever’s in my head during class, and the amount of attention every student needed while solving their problems. And then another market-triggered solution came to my head. I figured, if developers in the workplace perform pair-programming3, why is it so forbidden in class? Why were we constantly, subconsciously, being taught that cooperation is considered cheating?
So I asked them to start helping each other out because it promotes teamwork, it motivates sharing not only ideas, but also thought processes, it gives me more time to pay attention to students who actually need me to focus with them and explain matters, and, well, everybody wins.
Lesson #4: Be a team player
And what do you know? What started as collaboration led to some debates, and what became a debate, ended in a consensus. I cannot tell you how many times two students sitting together challenged my own solutions, and won on some occasions.
So this is all nice and sweet, but let’s get real, I’ve authored a few dozen publications at prestigious periodicals, I’ve taught a few thousand students over the course of my career, I’ve given some of the strictest final exams in the history of this university, I’ve […];
Alright, that’s a great amount of contribution to society, but that doesn’t exclusively mean you’re a good teacher. I was taught by some of the greatest subject matter experts ever, whether at school, university, the workspace, and at home. But most of these experts were often too proud to acknowledge that their ability to properly transfer knowledge is plain shit. So for what it’s worth,
Lesson #0: Get off of your high horse.
And try to level with yourself and those around you. Ask them, but be okay with hearing or reading that “your ability to properly transfer knowledge is plain shit”. Be okay with having a teenage brat right, when you’re wrong, sometimes. Be okay with being inspired from a new mindset. Be okay with criticism that touches this definition you so have of yourself.
Closing Notes
This article by no means is a definition of what a good teacher is and isn’t. I don’t have the knowledge or expertise to define that myself. This article is a reflection on who I was as a student, and who I was as a teacher, and if half of my teachers believed in that and impacted me the way many of my students claim I’ve impacted them, I believe I would have been in a much more empowered position as a graduate. Replicate that across generations. Imagine the impact.
So here’s a special thank you to the 103 beautiful souls who gave me the privilege of teaching them, and learning from them.
Don’t forget to leave your thoughts in the comments below, and be sure to subscribe for more content whenever I feel like dumping my brain.
If this bit offended you, then case in point.
She never shut up after it for that matter. Anyways.
It’s when a pair of developers sit together on the same piece of code and perform some development effort together, as a team.
sis chris for the win!