At the end of one lesson in Semester 2, AY 2008/2009, my student Kamran asked me, “Ma’am, you’ve asked this question so many times. Why do you persist when there’s always no reply?” I was taken aback.

The “question” in question is, “Do you have any questions for me?”

Like many teachers, I often check whether students understand what I just taught by asking a variety of questions. After explaining a certain concept, I habitually end by asking students if they have any questions for me. I would proceed to the next task if there were none. Until Kamran’s feedback, it had not occurred to me that there would be any issue with asking such a question.

Kamran, giving his reason for the remark, felt that it is the student’s responsibility to take the initiative to ask questions without any prompting. He felt that, as a teacher, I should not bother asking the question anymore if it has not been eliciting any responses. Another interesting insight!

Have I been asking a redundant question? Is it the question or my methodical approach to asking the question that requires examination?

I have taught classes with students clamouring to ask questions, and classes with quiet and unresponsive st udents. The former energises me and I look forward to meet ing these student s week af ter week. In contrast, the latter, which is characteristic of Kamran’s class, saps my energy and forces me to question how long I can maintain the energetic front of a committed and passionate teacher, patiently waiting for questions that would never be asked.

Very often, after a session with a class like Kamran’s, I would experience a tinge of sadness, followed by a little disappointment and anxiety. Why? This is because I feel that I have not done enough for the class. Inevitably, my response to these feelings would be to continue searching for a ‘better’ method of instruction.

Have I neglected something that is more important while being caught up with attempting alternative teaching methods to engage and elicit participation from an unresponsive class? Did I ask questions by way of routine? More importantly, have I, in my eager pursuit of effective pedagogical approaches, fallen into the trap of using these methods and processes without passion?

While I had lamented about the dwindling spirit of learning among students in an earlier CDTLink article entitled “Thoughtful Teaching—The Spirit of Learning” (Chua, 2008), it occurred to me that I have forgotten an important part of the equation in successful learning and teaching—the spirit of teaching.

The spirit of teaching is about teachers. It denotes a force that energises and inspires. It is emotional and passionate. It gives meaning to a teacher’s work and is the raison d’être for pursuing this profession.

Beyond having master y over their content and applying effective pedagogy, great teachers do much more. For them, the same lesson, repeatedly taught, is never the same. Likewise, the same question, asked many times, is never the same. The spirit of teaching imbues each encounter they have with their students with a spiritual impulse that influences a student for
life:

A student’s growth as a person can be greatly aided by a teacher of spiritual sensitivity.
Even the best of biography is second-rate company compared to the living acquaintance
with such a teacher. A learner’s spirit can be so awakened and quickened that he may have an enduring appreciation of Shakespeare because the soul of a great teacher was spent in his learning it. Or history may forever hold him in its power because it was interpreted by a teacher whose subject and character become as one. (Hammond, 1948, p.130)

A teacher’s love for the subject, affection for his students, and the meaning he f inds in his work provide the basis for how he defines his role and his commitment to the art of teaching. Hence, the challenge that lies before many teachers is the need to recognise and remember this spirit of teaching as the force that makes the difference in every teacher’s and student’s classroom experiences.

It is difficult to articulate the spiritual impulses that drive me as a teacher, but Kamran’s feedback has come at an opportune time. It has made me realise that I have focused too much on the technicalities of teaching, like an actor simply reciting lines from a script and performing without spirit. I have fallen into a mundane routine as I deliver lesson after lesson,
year after year. In the process, I have left behind the very spirit that brought me to this profession. Indeed, while methods and processes are necessary in successful teaching, of equal importance is the need to have the intangible quality that each teacher brings to every class and student-teacher encounter.

So, the next time when I teach the same module or ask the same questions in my classes, I will be careful not to carry the notion that I am merely repeating myself. Instead, I will remember why I became a teacher in the first place and will continue to bring to class the energy and enthusiasm which characterised the very first lessons that I taught—with passion, meaning and purpose, all in the spirit
of teaching!

References:

Chua, S.B. (2008). Thoughtful teaching—The spirit of learning. CDTLink, Vol. 12, No. 1, p.5.

Dehler, G.E. & Welsh, M.A. (1997). Discovering the keys: Spirit in teaching and the journey of learning. Journal of Management Education, Vol. 21, No. 4, pp. 496-508.

Hammond, W.R. (1948). Third dimension of teaching. Peabody Journal of Education, Vol. 25, No. 4, p.130.

Rodriguez, L.J. (2005). Nemachtilli: The spirit of learning. English Journal, Vol. 94, No. 3, p. 42.