“I
made a mistake”
As
the visitors to my posts are fewer than the birds that visit a barren bird sanctuary,
I am going personal here. There are no interesting things in it for the others.
This is all about me, the egoist or the egotist, I do not know.
In
the previous phase of my life I pretended to be a teacher, a professor no less,
in a Deemed-to-be private university, no more. I am not putting my then
employer down; indeed, it was a much-needed halfway house for nearly ten years
between my focused and dedicated professional life over the earlier three
decades or so and the fully retired life I am leading now.
I
was very animated in my class, extending beyond body language. I used my body
as a whole in my teaching. I had already described how I climbed up the desk
and jumped off of it, merely to give a body-demonstration for a concept. That
was just one instance and I may have done a couple of dozen such actions,
including in higher level classes extending to PG courses.
I
seemed to have developed a contrarian personality in my professional life.
Because of my research work towards getting my Ph.D, and ended up in a design
office, I was academic and research oriented while I was doing and/or
overseeing design. Subsequently, when I was in academia, I focused on the industry
aspects of the discipline. I was putting myself in jeopardy during both these
phases!
It
is therefore not surprising that I found not much satisfaction during the
transition as it was like falling through the cracks. Very few of my colleagues
enjoyed teaching and gave themselves to it as much as I tried doing. I had
moderate success. For my former colleagues, teaching was not a profession, but
merely a bread-winning tactical issue in life; short-termism winning against, as
always, long-term perspectives. While there is enough blame to go around, a
major share must be with the administration and their meaningless metrics. I
hate measuring things that cannot be measured.
I
have to tell you how I judged my own teaching, style and substance. It could
have been better, much better. I knew, going in, that I have to control my bad
temper, many times directed at myself, that used to erupt. The antidote was for
me to treat myself as grandfather of the students (age-wise, I was almost
there, especially along their maternal line) and grandfathers do not, as a rule
get angry at their granddaughters and grandsons.
Subject-wise
I got frustrated whenever I made a mistake while writing on the board. I will
be saying something and write something else on the board. The students, bless
them, pointed out my error almost on the spot. I quickly regained my composure
externally but seethed within myself. After the class I used to analyze why I
made the mistake. I also got angry at the students as a whole (rarely at any
individual; perhaps at a group of five or six students) when I felt the class
is being disrupted and I am losing my train of thoughts.
One
day, while I was pacing the corridors waiting for the clock to strike my class
hour, I saw a math professor showing his graduate student a contraption that
seemed to show something rolling up an incline. I was aware of this trick,
which is really not a trick. I borrowed this contraption and brought it to my
class. When I did the demonstration, the class was perplexed. Then I cleared
their confusion. All was well for the fundamentals they have been taught. I
demonstrated the same thing to my colleagues too were, but unwilling to admit to
being baffled till they heard my explanation. The Dean of the School of Civil
Engineering asked me pointedly from where I got the contraption (the double
cone and the splayed and gradually raising tracks). I told him and was hoping
he would act the change agent. Alas, my hopes were belied.
I
was designated the faculty for a course that was ostensibly designed to help PG
students develop presentation skills on core topics of the profession. From my
perspective, I did OK or better than that. What was the icing on the cake was
that the faculty member who was the teacher for this course earlier gave me a
pat on the back saying the standard of the presentation of the students were more
varied and better than what they were under him. To be fair, he was a faculty
who was tuned to a different sub-field.
While
I was delivering a lecture. I questioned my class frequently on the
implications of the concepts I had explained. Only a few students (say, five
out of 60 in a class) responded, sometimes correctly and many times not. What
was, I think, unique about these instances was I went to the student,
particularly when their understanding may not have been correct or they
struggled to put the concepts in words, and asked him/her what they meant and
repeated it in my own words. This is the best part. I now asked the student
whether my translation of their query was faithful. Not once did they answer in
the negative, not once. My translation sought to direct the students towards
applying the concepts in a fruitful direction. I can tell you that this was
effective, at least with the chosen few.
No,
I did not choose them. They chose themselves by participating in the class.
However, in the semester-end feedback students give their teachers (to the
administration which is shared with the faculty), one response was: The teacher
has his favourites and he goes to them to the exclusion of others. The first
two sentences of this paragraph is my defence against the charge. Enough said.
Before
I joined academia as a paid worker, I was a structural design engineer and also
an experimentalist (for five years). Therefore, I do vouch for, if only
partially, the chorus from the industry that graduates are not prepared for the
real demands of professional life. What goes unsaid is the industry has handed the
kit and caboodle of the responsibility of making practising professionals of
graduates’ professional education to edupreneurs.
When
I graduated, more than fifty years ago, was it the same situation? Perhaps not.
I did not go into industry after graduation but some of my classmates did. I
have heard from them that it was different, at least slightly; the transition
was smoother with a series of “punctuated equilibria” – a stepped process, within
a compressed time frame.
Alright,
I will now get to the most weighty messages of this post. In Richard Feynman’s Messenger lecture
at Cornell University, there is a short segment in which the redoubtable
scientist said, with no ifs and buts, “I made a mistake” at 38:50. Admittedly,
it was merely on the sequencing of the slides and he had, while taking an ad-hoc
swipe at astrology, lost the thread of his thoughts.
This is about as honest as honest can be. It
runs the risk of losing the audience. Yet, he seemed not to have cared. True,
he was a complete legend by the time of the lecture. I have read a letter from
him to a student where he admitted to his mistake on a truly substantive issue
without hedging. That is confidence. A teacher must have confidence in
themselves to readily admit to an error. I have done this without fail in my
classes. The thing that was bad about me was I made mistakes in many of my
lectures. I am not blaming my mild dyslexia (see, I hedged! Feynman did not).
Feynman
had a sense of humour that was cutting as well as mildly stated. In the YouTube video you witness these
instances during 17:36-17:46 (just 10 seconds) about angels flapping their
wings to move the earth, and at 31:00 minutes, this one taking down his host
institution, for thinking that astronomy is exclusively an outdoors endeavour, but
in a humorous way. This I lacked and I admit, I could not have developed.
In
one of my first lectures to the class on the subject Engineering Mechanics, I
asked the students, “What is mass?” The anticipated response is a version of, “Matter
content of a body,” as given in their school text books, and my expectation was
endorsed. I used to pounce on it, and ask, “Is that a scientific/engineering
answer? Do you ‘understand’ anything engineering about a body through that ‘definition,”
and a few more choice questions, to make the students uncomfortable.
I
deliberately wanted to induce such discomfort to wean the students away from
their high school learning mentality. Then I tell them that mass is merely the
constant of proportionality between the force (another undefined concept) and
acceleration, which is a defined concept (if one agrees that time is a
concept!) This is almost precisely I heard Feynman mouth in his lecture at 19:30
minutes (Mass as the Coefficient of Inertia in Newton’s Second Law of Motion) in
the video. I put a feather in my cap.
It
is more than one feather. I had a discussion with a colleague from a different
school at the university who had done research from IIT, Kanpur on quantum
chemistry (the thing he told me to impress, I suppose), in which I pointed out
that mass is nothing more than the proportionality constant, and is applicable
if the equation is inverted, like . He did not agree and went
tangentially, saying F is a tensor (he thought he would bamboozle me by
throwing this fancy word; he did not know I spent a year using tensor in my
research) and one cannot divide a tensor. I pointed out that I was teaching
first year students of engineering. He shut up after that and our interactions
stopped. He was using fancy words not for clear exposition but just the
opposite. If Feynman is ever against anything, it is this. So, I felt I got a pat
on the back from him!
So,
that is the part of, exclusively of the final phase, my professional career.
2 comments:
I'm still grappling with ' tensor'.
It is a made up concept, just to confuse peole mike you and me! Don't fret. Just a matrix of higher order not easily visualizable. You know this, of course, Matheikal.
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