Robert A. Cohen

East Stroudsburg University

November 1998 (adapted September 2009)

It is ironic that no one considers me a good teacher, considering that almost everyone thought I was a great teacher when I just started teaching. And when I say "everyone," I mean everyone, from the students to the parents and even myself. I knew my students loved my teaching, as quite a few of them would tell me that I was their favorite teacher. During parent-teacher conferences, many parents would tell me how thrilled they were that their son or daughter was not only doing well but enjoying the class as well. And not only did students enjoy the class and think I was a great teacher, but they consistently did well in the course.

So what happened?

First let me tell you a little about my class, as it was when I first started teaching. I was teaching a class called "general knowledge." Everyone knew general knowledge was important but students just didn’t seem excited about it. I knew that students learned in different ways and that most students were bored with the standard lecture format, so I used many different activities. For example, one topic was "how to get to Pittsburgh."

This topic was typically one of the most boring topics in the curriculum. After all, it was just a series of roads one had to memorize.

Not only was it boring, but there were several difficult steps involved and students often got frustrated trying to remember all the parts of it.

Still, I was able to make it exciting by using songs, dances and games. I had students dress up as various sites along the route. I wrote songs about the route for the students to sing. We played games like "Jeopardy". Not only did the students enjoy the activities, but the students wanted to learn it. Many students decided to study "general knowledge" in college as a result of my class.

And, lest you think the learning was shallow, exam scores were consistently high. By the end of the unit, students knew the route backwards and forwards. I rarely had a student who did poorly. Not only did the students enjoy learning, they were learning. I felt great!

And this feeling of greatness lasted for about five years. It was about that time that I just happened to meet one of my former students on the way to his class reunion. He was excited to see me, and I was excited to meet him. He told me I was his favorite teacher, which by then I was used to hearing.

"Why not come to the reunion?" he asked. "I’m sure everyone else would like to see you again, too."

I had no plans that evening and thought it would be nice to see everyone again, so I agreed. As I accompanied him to the reunion, we got to talking. I asked him what he thought of my class, after so many years.

"Oh!," he exclaimed, "your class was by far the best I have ever had! I learned so much in that class! In college, the courses are so boring - not like yours!"

"Did you study general knowledge, like you thought you would?" I asked.

"Well, I took one course but it was just too difficult - not like your class. I didn’t like it, so I went into another field," he responded.

"What didn’t you like?"

"Well, it was just too confusing. Your course made it sound so simple. These college professors just aren’t as good as you!"

It sounded like a complement, but troubled me just the same. If I was so good a teacher, I thought, shouldn’t my students have found it easier to study the subject in college, despite the poor teachers? We were soon at the reunion, and I was anxious to ask other former students about their experiences. I was confident that other students would provide stories different than this.

And I was right. Sort of. Every former student had a different story, but the end result was the same. No one had gone into a field in which they had to use what they learned in my class. Even worse (to me), no one seemed to have even found the stuff from my class useful.

"At the time, I loved learning all that stuff, but now I don’t see any use for it.", one student said. "For example, I loved learning about the route to Pittsburgh, but I never go to Pittsburgh."

I felt bad that I had wasted their time, but they assured me it wasn’t wasted. After all, they offered, who knew who would need the information then? That wasn’t my fault, they argued.

"Actually," another countered, "I did need to go to Pittsburgh once."

"See?" chimed the others.

"...but I had forgotten the route we had memorized. I literally spent hours in almost every town along the way. It took me almost two days to get there."

I was devastated. "Doesn’t anyone remember the way to Pittsburgh?" I asked.

To my relief, many students still had it memorized. My relief didn’t last long, however.

"Not only did I memorize it," one student said, "but there was a time last year when I actually had to go to Pittsburgh."

"And so it really was useful, then?" I asked.

"Sure. Although one of the route numbers had changed since our class and so I spent a day with AAA trying to find another route. But that wasn’t your fault! Who knew that the route numbers would change?"

I was very depressed by the time I left. Even though my former students were arguing it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help but think I had failed them in some way.