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 Recommended Reading
I'm the Teacher, You're the StudentAllitt examines the nature of teaching American college students.
By George LeefNovember 24, 2004 •I’m the Teacher, You’re the Student by Patrick Allitt University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004/5, 244 pp., $59.95 (hardcover)/$19.95 (paper)
What is it really like to teach American college students these days? Very few professors bother to write much about that. Sure, they have a lot to say, but writing critically about the problems of dealing with students would neither be appreciated by administrators (“I thought you were part of our team, but from that letter of yours in The Chronicle of Higher Education, I can see that you’re not!”) nor would it be a profitable use of time, given the pressure to produce “research” that helps land tenure and puffs out the old CV. So it’s a rare occurrence to come upon a book addressing that topic.
Patrick Allitt is a native of Britain who teaches American History at Emory University in Atlanta. His book, which bears the subtitle A Semester in the University Classroom, is not only a pleasure to read, but also says some very important things about the state of American education. Far from endorsing the usual line that American universities are the world’s best, doing great things to hone young minds to a keen edge, Allitt’s book leaves you wondering why we spend so much for so little benefit.
First, Allitt observes that American college students – even at a decidedly upper crust institution like Emory – are not readers. They’ve had twelve years of schooling, yet have a strong aversion to reading. Getting his students to read and understand the assignments is a constant problem. “Most students today do not read much and many have gone through school hardly ever reading voluntarily. There has been a lot of discussion during the culture wars of the last decade or two about what books we should assign to students and what (if anything) we should regard as part of the canon. What makes the debate so intense is perhaps the participants’ awareness that the assigned books in school and college are often almost the only books many of the students are ever going to read.”
Allitt’s students complain about the amount of reading he assigns, about its supposed difficulty, and about its failure to interest them. Often, when he asks them questions about the assignments, they either have not troubled themselves to do the reading, or if they have, they’ve gleaned precious little information from it. He confronts this problem diligently by calling on students in class and giving quizzes. Some students respond, but it’s evident that many are set in their ways. They just don’t like to read anything that isn’t fun and entertaining.
Now, matters might improve considerably if the rest of the faculty were also fighting against the student aversion to reading, but few of them probably are. Allitt doesn’t say much about his colleagues, but I suspect he knows that many of them have given in to what Murray Sperber calls the faculty/student non-aggression pact: Students get light assignments and good grades in return for expecting little instructional effort from their professors. Allitt’s willingness to stay and fight when much of the rest of the faculty has surrendered is commendable, but if only a small number of professors insist that students read and understand, the college experience is just the skeletal remains of its former self.
The second big point Allitt makes is that American college students are poor writers. Not just his students, but students at institutions from the top to the bottom of our higher education totem pole – bad writers all. “They have not done enough writing to become good at it,” he observes. “They’ve been cursed with a lifetime of multiple-choice examinations instead, so even the highly intelligent ones come to writing as a strange and alien activity that is occasionally forced upon them.”
Our author is absolutely correct. The grading of writing assignments is hard and usually thankless work. (Allitt notes that students often bristle at having writing errors pointed out to them, rather than accepting and learning from criticism.) Few teachers or professors go to the trouble of assigning papers and bringing out the red pen to correct mistakes any more, so it’s natural that students can’t write. That’s a serious problem, compelling businesses to spend large amounts of money each year on what amount to remedial writing courses. Students who are fortunate enough to have a course taught by someone like Patrick Allitt will enter the job world with a better idea of how to organize and express their thoughts. Most, however, will graduate from college with the same weak writing skills with which they entered.
Given the two prominent themes of students who disdain reading and haven’t learned to write, the people who ought to read the book are those who run our K-12 schools and the parents of college students who assume that because their kids have gotten into college, they must be pretty well educated. The former should begin an immediate program to make good writing a top priority in schools, although that will be difficult given the scarcity of teachers who are skilled writers themselves. The latter should turn thumbs down on colleges that don’t have a strong commitment to writing. Finding institutions that measure up won’t be easy.
Allitt also touches on other topics close to a professor’s heart, such as plagiarism (lots of students do it and some can hardly see why it’s bad), excuse-mongering by students, and the pressure to grade leniently. Allitt readily admits that he contributes to the grade inflation problem, which has reached epidemic proportions. He knows that grade inflation is bad, but doesn’t want to face the personal and administrative grief that now almost inevitably follows honest grading.
My favorite episode in I’m the Teacher, You’re the Student is a class in which Prof. Allitt is discussing the causes of the Great Depression. A senior economics major keeps chiming in with statements that run contrary to the conventional, “mainstream” historical view pinning the blame on the instability of capitalism. Allitt admits that “He’s well read and knows how to pick holes in my oversimplified explanations.” Sounds like what educators like to call “a teachable moment,” but with the roles reversed. Bravo to both the unnamed student for putting his education to good use, and to Professor Allitt for recognizing that he had something important to contribute.
This is a wonderful book. I heartily recommend it, and tip my hat to the author for writing it instead of some dreary monograph for some obscure journal. By spilling the beans about the parlous state of American education, he has done infinitely more to advance the nation’s welfare than if he had squandered his time on more “academic research.”
George C. Leef is Executive Director of the John William Pope Center for Higher Education Policy.
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