Teaching Life: Letters from a Life in Literature

Chapter 5. Lecturing

46 Dear Kelly, I’m sure that you can relate to the story about the lecturer who, having one week remaining in the term, meets a colleague on his way to class and says, “So far I’ve covered half the course. I’m giving them the second half today.” And no doubt as a student yourself, on occasion you agreed with the sentiment of Immanuel Kant, who once defined the lecture as “a process by which the notes of the professor become the notes of the student without passing through the head of either.” At times you may even have agreed with those who claim that the lecture is outmoded or oppressive, an archaic academic custom rendered ineffectual by television, computers, and cheap and easy access to printed works. Even if reports of the lecture’s demise are premature, the unfortunate reality is that too many teachers enter into this instructional form too lightly, pay too little attention to what good lectures might accomplish, and as a result deliver a product that is too far gone to be resuscitated. Nevertheless, like many of my colleagues, I believe that if composed and delivered with care, a lecture can be one of the liveliest and most effective strategies for engaging the minds of students at any level of the curriculum—and for promoting understanding, sharing knowledge, and imparting a sense of what it means to be a part of the academy. I have also learned that lecturing is an art not to be taken lightly or for granted. Thinking back to the professors I had who taught almost exclusively by lecturing, I can single out perhaps two dozen who were highly effective because they caught and held our attention, provided emphasis and direction, led up to a key moment, and then Lecturing [ c h a p t e r 5 [ 47 l e c t u r i n g struck home. I remember these professors as being keenly aware of and responsive to their students, well organized, able to justify the importance of the material, and often highly entertaining. Their endless curiosity and command of the material was unquestioned; their presentations were precise and compact; and yet they invited us to interrupt their lectures at any time for questions, further discussion , even challenges, to which they respectfully responded without making us feel like complete fools for raising them. Usually their lectures sounded spontaneous and fresh, although I am sure that they had worked and reworked the material over many semesters, if not years. Their voice quality and articulation were effective , even pleasing, without such maddening verbal afflictions as repeated uhs and ers and you-knows; and rarely did we have to strain to hear what they were saying or guess at stress and emphasis or organization of sentences. Most of all, they were never predictable. If it’s true that the mark of a great professor lies not only in what is taught or how, but also in what happens in the mind of a receptive student, then these particular professors were truly great. And if I have had any success as a lecturer in the classroom, it is in large part due to the examples set by many of these men and women to whom, as an aspiring teacher myself, I listened as much for technique as for content. Now that I stand before my own students, lectures are a major class component, balanced often with discussion and questions , sometimes with recitation, occasionally by demonstration. In planning lectures, I like to start at the end and work backwards . Where do I want to lead the students? What do I hope they will carry with them from the classroom? These are among the questions I ask myself as I try to see the big picture for the entire semester during my preparation. Without clarity and a sense of purpose, one aims at nothing—and usually hits it. I need a clearly defined goal that I can target. After I have identified the goals and completed most of the background reading, research, and thinking on the subject, I’m ready to compose the lecture itself. The word invent comes from the Latin word invenire, which means “to make” or “to create”; but it also means “to find.” In some special way, I believe we find within our- 48 l e c t u r i n g selves what...