IT is not necessary for a student studying multivariable calculus,
medieval literature or Roman archaeology to know that the professor on
the podium shoots pool, has donned a bunny costume or can’t get enough
of Chaka Khan.
Yet professors of all ranks and disciplines are revealing such
information on public, national platforms: blogs, Web pages, social
networking sites, even campus television.
When scholars were recently given the chance to refute student criticism posted on the Web site RateMyProfessors.com,
a cult-hit television series, “Professors Strike Back,” was born. The
show, which has professors responding on camera to undergraduate gripes
such as “boring beyond belief,” made its debut in October on mtvU, a
24-hour network broadcast to more than 7.5 million students on American
college campuses.
“It’s our dominant show driving half of the
traffic to mtvU now,” said Stephen Friedman, general manager of the
network. “It gets more than our music premieres.”
There was a
time when professors did not outrank music premieres on television.
They were buttoned-up authority figures, like the legendary fictional
Professor Kingsfield, portrayed by John Houseman in “The Paper Chase.”
The personal lives of professors could only be imagined from the sparse
clues of clothing, handwriting and the contents of offices.
These
days, the clues are usually digital and are broad invitations to get to
know the person behind the Ph.D. It is not uncommon for professors’ Web
pages to include lists of the books they would take to a deserted
island, links to their favorite songs from bygone eras, blog posts
about their children, entries “written” by their dogs and vacation
photographs.
While many professors have rushed to meet the age
of social networking, there are some who think it is symptomatic of an
unfortunate trend, that a professor’s job today is not just to impart
knowledge, but to be an entertainer.
Certainly, professors have
embraced the Internet since its earliest days, using it as a scholarly
avenue of communication, publication and debate. Now it is common for
many to reveal more personal information that has little connection to
their work.
...
Nate Ackerman, a lecturer in mathematics at the University of Pennsylvania,
whose Web page includes information about his wrestling achievements
and photos of him with his cats, agreed. “It’s better when your
professor’s human,” he said.
Some scholars suggest that the need
to present oneself so chummily is indicative of student demands. Sam
Gosling, a psychologist and an associate professor at the University of
Texas at Austin, who has about 300 students on his MySpace page, said
there are students today who think professors are not doing their jobs
unless they convey information in zany, interactive ways.
It is
something he sees reflected in student evaluations and something that
anyone can observe on RateMyProfessors, where students critique classes
with comments like “bring a pillow.”
...
There are many reasons professors have embraced the Web and other
media to reveal more of themselves. Mr. Gosling, whose studies include
personality and virtual environments, noted that people are far less
formal in all areas of life. “Twenty years ago, many fewer professors
would have been wearing jeans and sneakers to work,” he said.
It
is also possible, he added, that some professors are doing online what
they have long done in their offices: displaying family photos and
personal artifacts, decorating with posters, literally keeping their
doors open.
Mr. Friedman of mtvU said it is the nature of the age. “I think it’s part of this increased transparency,” he said.
He
acknowledged that watching the uninhibited scholars responding to
student criticism on “Professors Strike Back” is “almost as if your
therapist, who you know nothing about, is going to come and respond.”
“It feels as if they are breaking some kind of wall,” he said.
And
yet, in some ways, the online and on-screen chumminess may not cross
over beyond those realms. A number of professors said the most
disarming thing of all to students is when they encounter a professor
not on a Web page, but in the real world.
When a student
spotted Mr. Gosling on a street near campus, he said, “She looked at me
in, like, horror. Like, ‘Wait a minute, you have a life?’ The idea that
I would continue to exist — it was sort of a violation of her
expectations.”
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