What Professors Wish You Knew
They are the ones with the power to ruin your vacations with untimely assignments. They are the ones you lauded as your reason for choosing this college in your application essay. They are the ones who may bore you with a monotone that defies caffeine. Or perhaps, if you have chosen wisely, they are the ones who switch on some inner lightbulb that makes the world and your place in it suddenly clearer. Professors.
Getting the best out of college means, in part, getting your money’s worth out of your relationships with the professors who are paid (largely by you) to provide a product you are buying: an education.
By now you may have heard that every session of class at your standard university tends to be around the price of a front-row seat on Broadway. Unfortunately few lectures actually live up to that kind of billing. Don’t take the Broadway metaphor literally, expecting your professors to be entertainers. They are, after all, only educators. (Hey, if they could do improv, they would be making a lot more money working on Saturday Night Live.) Some star professors manage to be entertaining educators, but more often than not even the good professors are simply adept at conveying the mysteries of their subject—minus the stand-up comic routine.
You don’t need your professors to be stand-up comics. You do need them to be stand-up academic citizens. And here is a secret. Most of them want the same thing from you. If you can match up these two realistic expectations, you can build relationships with your professors that will make college an incredibly rewarding experience, one worth your time and money.
Whether you attend a mammoth state university or an intimate-sized college, your goal should be to know two professors well enough that they are able to write strong, personal recommendations for you. Even better, you should seek to establish a close mentoring relationship with at least one professor during your undergraduate career.
To build these relationships, you must understand the three open secrets about professors.
Seek to establish a close mentoring relationship with at least one professor during your undergraduate career.
The first is that profs are human. Not a shocker, though there are some who seem determined to prove otherwise. Look past the quirks and eccentricities and you will discover that professors have fears, foibles, and personality glitches like the rest of us. As we will explain later, if you can keep this simple truth in mind during your interactions, you’ll be more successful in getting to know them.
Second, professors are generally quite good at providing you with quality instruction in their courses, but you can get a lot more from them than a lecture. If you just take what’s given to you (that is, the course as it is offered) you won’t get as much out of it as you would if you were proactive about interacting with the professor.
The third secret—and professors cannot be persuaded otherwise on this one—is that they believe their time is more valuable than yours. The smart student will strategize around this inconvenient view, finding ways to build relationships without becoming a drain on the professor’s time.
As obvious as these points may seem, it’s amazing how many students behave as though they do not understand them. Internalize these revelations, act upon them, and watch the doors begin to open.
One of the biggest differences between high school and college is that in college most teachers won’t come looking for you if you miss class or fail to turn in assignments. (Okay, if you miss too many classes the prof might turn you over to an academic dean who will come knocking at your door—don’t misread our point here.) Perhaps you are counting on this. Perhaps the greater freedom is precisely what you are looking for in college. There is, however, a fine line between being given free rein to roam and being ignored.
Frankly the students who never get noticed by their professors are probably not making the most of their education. But getting noticed (that is, getting the right kind of notice) is difficult because relating to students is only a part of the professor’s job—and in many research universities, it is a very small part.
In nearly every college and university in the United States, professors are hired with the understanding that they will divide their time among three baskets: research and publishing, university service, and teaching. Their salaries depend on success in all three areas. The baskets are prioritized differently depending on the institution, but at many schools, research and publishing take precedence. If you are not sure whether or not that is the case at your school, mention the phrase “publish or perish” and see if your professor exhibits a nervous tic.
Beyond that, the urgency of university service often competes all too effectively for the professor’s attention. University service refers to a long list of faculty responsibilities such as serving on multiple administrative committees, advising student groups, developing department policies, and reviewing and evaluating the published work of their peers, to name only a few. Most profs have a fairly small appetite for this sort of thing and are force-fed much more than they can stomach.
The third basket, of course, is prepping for and delivering a lecture (or seminar) and grading the polished gems of academic work you and your peers generate by the bushel.
We all know that people have lives beyond their day job, so figure at some time these profs are also going home to raise kids, grow their marriage, care for elderly parents, or often all of the above. The point is not to make you feel sorry for professors (you shouldn’t—they generally enjoy what they do and no one forced them at gunpoint to follow this career), but rather to explain why they may seem distracted when it comes to teaching and relating to undergraduates—why, in other words, they might be harder to approach than the teachers who helped you finish high school so successfully.
A key distinction between college and high school faculty is their degrees. A bachelor’s degree (which your high school teacher likely had) suggests that a graduate has mastered a subject and is capable of passing it along; a master’s degree suggests an even deeper command of that knowledge.
Most college professors have a doctorate degree (called a PhD, which someone once said stands for “piled higher and deeper”), and that degree confers the expectation that graduates not only have a deep understanding of their subject area but are also expanding the field of knowledge in some way. Their standing in the field and at the university is determined by how much “expanding” they accomplish during their lifetime.
So what is the relevance of this to you? Due to the constraints placed on a professor’s time by the university, it is of utmost importance that you assume the responsibility of pursuing the professor rather than expecting the professor to discover the genius in you. Make yourself memorable by showing an interest in the material and class discussion as well as a dedication to learning outside of class. And consider responding graciously when your professor inevitably makes some error either in miscalculating your grade, losing your paper, or mispronouncing your name for the eighth time in a week.
Matt recalled his ordeal attempting to contact a prof in the hopes of networking. In his naïveté, he called the professor once and, finding she was out, left a message assuming the ball was now in her court. Needless to say, the days passed into weeks and still no response. He happened to mention his predicament to a friend, who chided him on his laziness, insisting Matt find some other way to track her down. “Pursue her with the same dedication you would show if you were trying to borrow her car for spring break,” he said. “Figure she’s too busy to return your call. Understand that you need to see her more than she needs to see you, so you have to work at it more. Don’t take no answer for an answer.”
We are not recommending that you stalk your professor but that you do the math: several dozen or perhaps several hundred students per lecture times multiple lectures a term plus a few seminars of twenty-five each. Your face is part of the blur. It will most likely require some extra effort to get your prof’s attention.
Our advice so far has been tailored to students at universities where the student-faculty ratio makes it a bit harder to establish a connection with the professor. If you are at a small college, these tips will apply even more so, since there is a greater expectation among faculty that these relationships will emerge and they are primed to participate.
Professors want students. Real students. Not students who sleep in class—that’s frustrating. Not students who hang on their every word—that’s embarrassing. (Okay, maybe it is flattering, but it gets old quickly.) And not students who put up their verbal dukes at the slightest provocation—that’s disrespectful and downright annoying.
Professors want students who interact professionally in both behavior and appearance and who show at least a minimal interest in the topic—a student like you.
Profs are astounded at how often students behave in class as though the audience were invisible. Perhaps it is a weakness of the TV generation, subconsciously behaving as though class were a plasma screen. Regardless, professors frequently lament how too often students are disengaged from the lecture, such as the prof lecturing on financial collapse in the developing world who looks up to see students laughing at someone’s Facebook update or students who prove their true intent by bringing a pillow or wearing pajamas to class.
If I’m Not Prepared for Class, Should I Still Attend?
Most definitely you should attend class even if you are unprepared, but—we quickly add—depending on what type of class it is, you may need to make a preemptive strike.
If it is the sort of class where you might be called on, such as a seminar or a small lecture, then you should absolutely contact the professor before class to explain the situation. Apologize that you have made a mistake but don’t make excuses. Be clear that you will not be making this a habit and that you promise to be prepared from here on out. Most profs are gracious enough to let you get by without damage; however, they might toss you a question in the following class just to be sure you’re tracking.
Of course, if the class you are unprepared for is a lecture, then the odds are very much with you that you can sneak by unnoticed. It is still a mistake to be unprepared, but there is no reason to compound the mistake by skipping the class as well. Remember, every class is about as expensive as that front-row Broadway ticket and consistently coming unprepared is like watching the performance from a soundproof booth. Even if you haven’t read the material, you may still get something out of the lecture if you take notes. And those notes will make more sense when you review them after having completed the assignment you originally missed.
Life is not without its obstacles, and if there is an unforeseen circumstance that has genuinely made it difficult for you to keep up with class (that is, a death in the family, a chronic health issue, a financial burden, and so on), make the effort to speak to the professor about it before the term progresses any further. There tends to be a rash of plagues that mysteriously coincide with due dates each term, making some profs a bit jaded. However, most faculty should be willing to help (either with extensions or by reworking assignments) if you give them enough advance notice.
In very small doses, the professor may be amused and might play along. One instructor preempted an incorrigible napper by pulling out a copy of Goodnight Moon and reading it to the dozing student (much to the hilarity of the rest of the class). Others like to sneak up on their snoozer and jostle him awake. One in particular—and this is probably an urban legend, but it is one professors share wistfully among themselves—wielded a permanent marker on a sleeping student’s forehead, giving him a Zorro-like Z. More commonly, some give an instant class-wide quiz or even an extra term paper assignment to punish a student’s apparent disregard.
Sleeping in class is only the most obvious and infamous classroom mistake. The more common error, and the one we want you to focus on avoiding, is failing to make a positive impression on the professor.
By a positive impression, we don’t mean bringing the prof a piping hot pizza after class or tattooing her lectures on your bicep. We mean engaging in class. Practically it would look like this: As you read through packets for Thursday’s lecture, make notes to yourself of questions you have in response to the text (yes, you should actually write them down). If one or two of your questions are big enough that they might lead into an actual conversation, or are important enough to warrant a response before you complete your readings, raise them with the prof in advance (preferably during her office hours).
Either way, come Thursday you are sitting in class (list of questions in hand) with a goal of finding those answers as you listen to the lecture. This will help you pay attention and look alive.
Chances are that if you are confused about the text, others are too. If the professor is willing to take questions in class, take advantage of that time by picking some tough ones from your list (as long as you remain sensitive to the fact that she needs to finish her lecture). In high school, this sort of preparedness would have been considered sycophantic, resulting in ridicule by your entire table at lunch. But there is more at stake now than your reputation with prepubescents in new sneakers: your education, your student loans, and, ultimately, your career are on the line.
To look at this another way, it may help to consider your title. When you fill in the blank on DMV or doctor’s forms, what do you list for occupation? Student. You are a professional student. As such, it makes sense that you would approach your relationships with faculty and the administration (not to mention your forty hours a week of study) as a professional.
During my freshman year, I had a class in which I received a slightly lower grade than expected and, after consulting the grading rubric, realized I had been docked points for class participation. This came as a surprise since I had attended every class, been attentive in class, and actively taken notes—in high school, this would have been sufficient. Afterward I made it a goal to raise my hand at least two times per class, which gained me points, but also helped my professors remember who I was. This helped build important relationships as well as further my education by heightening my engagement in each class.
Lauren—sophomore, Northeastern U
You might be asking why in the world someone would sign up for an independent study. After all, there is no way to hide if the assignment isn’t complete and skipping class is nearly impossible. Don’t give in to such reasoning. Many graduates, when asked their most valuable college experience, cite some sort of independent study or research as the pinnacle.
An independent study (IS) is a unique opportunity for a student to craft a semester around a subject that interests him, and then follow through with readings and assignments alongside one of the finest minds in the field on that subject—all at no extra cost!
Unfortunately, at most institutions, there is also no extra pay for the faculty member; so what is a great deal for you is usually worse than a so-so deal for the professor. Before drafting an independent study proposal, find out if the university will be crediting him for his time by asking any department administrator. Even if there is an incentive for the prof, don’t assume you are doing him a favor. With all the demands a prof has on his time, an independent study proposal needs to be attractive to the professor in order to get off the ground.
Above all, remember this: an independent study should be the culmination of a relationship that you already have with a professor, not be the beginning of one.
Practically this might mean taking an introductory course freshman year and discovering you connect with the prof and his topic during office hours, offering to be a research assistant the following term, perhaps taking another course that is closer to your area of interest sophomore year, and finally finishing up with an independent study as a junior—all the while looking for opportunities to get to know the prof outside of class.
Because of the way course scheduling and publication deadlines work, some semesters may be fuller for professors than others. There is an advantage to seeking out independent study opportunities early on in your college career. The process of finding good faculty mentors can begin in your first year so that you will have time to adjust. If a professor is booked the first time you request an independent study but he invites you to return next year, you have more flexibility to fit it into your course schedule. Not all faculty relationships require this much time, but preparing yourself now for that possibility will give you the most options in the long run.
Should you decide to offer your services as a research assistant for a term, recognize that you may not get paid. If that’s the case, consider it an investment in furthering your education and your relationship with this professor. Showing an interest in what a professor is already researching communicates to him that you are dedicated to the subject, willing to give as well as take, and respectful of his time. All three will bode well as points in your favor when it comes time to request an independent study (not to mention the fact that being a research assistant can be an incredible learning experience).
Desirable as an independent study opportunity is, we should warn you that it is also rare. Don’t agree to being a research assistant expecting that it will automatically earn you an independent study with this professor. It is probably also wise to refrain from mentioning your interest in an independent study until you have proven yourself to be diligent in the work at hand and superb in achieving positive results. (Otherwise it gives you an unfavorable “entitlement” shine that can damage the mentor relationship.)
As with anything, there are exceptions. Some profs have been known to sponsor a student in an IS after the student has taken only one course with them. It will be up to you to discern the individual prof’s various obligations and weigh them against his interests.
A common pitfall on this topic is requesting an independent study as an alternative to taking a regularly scheduled course. Let’s say Dr. Rothstein is teaching Innocence Undressed in Sixteenth-Century Literature in the fall term. Sonia wants to take the course but thinks she would learn better if she met with the prof individually. Should she propose taking the course as an IS, she will most likely get an immediate no.
What if Sonia wants to take the course but can’t because it interferes with her chem lab? That seems like a valid reason for an independent study, right? Again, Dr. Rothstein is likely to turn her down and suggest she sign up for the course in a later semester. Why? Dr. Rothstein is not an ogre. He simply can’t afford to add multiple sections of a course to his already full teaching schedule.
However, if, after taking Innocence Undressed, Sonia wants to further her own study of sexuality in The Faerie Queen, Dr. Rothstein will be more inclined to agree to this independent study request because Sonia has proven herself to be an excellent student in at least one term and is interested in pursuing a subject that he does not teach but that is considered part of his field.
The key here in successfully choosing an independent study topic that is attractive to your prof is to pick one he knows well, one he is also interested in researching, or one he is already actively researching.
An independent study is not essential to getting the best out of college. For most students, it may not even be a realistic option. Despite the size of the college, the student/faculty ratio makes for too many students should every one of them apply for a sustained, individual tutorial with a professor. But it’s worth a try. At worst, the work you put into the failed request could rebound to your benefit in other ways in your relationship with the professor, and, at best, you’ll be one of the lucky few who get a spot.
Every subject has its unknowns and unanswerables, and no one is above them—not even professors. The first step to intellectual growth is discovering how little you know about a topic. One professor observed that as an undergrad he figured he knew about 60 percent of his topic area; after several years as a grad student, he scaled his estimate back to about 30 percent; now that he is a world authority on several aspects of his field, he figures he knows about 3 to 5 percent of what there is to know.
Nevertheless, in almost every case, the professor will know more than you. That is why you are paying her and not vice versa. However, knowing more about a given topic does not mean that every opinion the professor holds is authoritative and infallible. The trick is to find the distinction between what your professors know and what they think.
To do that, it’s important to go to class with two things: an open mind and a sifter. An open mind is required because professors have thought long and hard about their topic and a core part of their job is to convey that knowledge to you. That said, always sift what you hear. All ideas contain some bias, even those that are loudly proclaimed to be fact. Merely calling it a fact makes it seem that there is no room for bias—however, don’t check your brain at the door.
All professors believe it is their job to challenge you. Expect to be provoked—relish it because it is what sharpens you. Many professors believe it is also their job to convince you, if not of their own ideology then at least of their own means of evaluating competitive ideologies. Don’t be afraid to push back against a professor’s bias; but don’t feel like you must resist every attempt either.
A large part of your education will revolve around these conversations, because they will stimulate your thinking and either galvanize your own convictions on a topic or lead to a revelation. The important thing is not to view a challenge to your own opinions as an abuse of professorial authority. It isn’t. Instead, treat it as an opportunity to exercise your brain as well as your backbone.
Should you find a point where you disagree with a professor, keep the fanfare to a minimum. A well-handled disagreement with a prof need not cost you your grade. In fact, it could even help it.
There are two kinds of disagreements you may have with a professor: academic (“I disagree that the world is round,” “I think the argument in this assigned reading has a fatal flaw,” and so on) and personal (“I think this seminar reading is boring,” “You miscalculated my grade,” “You looked at me funny,” “You stood me up during office hours”). In dealing with both, be professional and speak to your prof before telling the story to anyone else. Too many students have bungled that point and regretted the consequences.
One such student, after disagreeing with a point in a mythology lecture, called the department chair, the career guidance center, and the administration to complain before speaking directly to the prof about the incident. The complaint was a relatively small misunderstanding that could have easily been addressed. However, because Andrea spoke to nearly everyone but the professor, it made for an awkward situation for both her and her professor for the remainder of the term.
Be conscious of your timing in presenting your argument. Some profs are exhausted after a big lecture and are not up to sparring, while others may seem eager to talk while the lecture is still fresh in their thoughts.
Most profs don’t mind a challenge or two during a lecture, and almost all earnestly desire such engagements in smaller seminar classes. But be sensitive to the professor’s plans for the course. A brush-off response may be a sign that he has other material to cover, and not necessarily that you have him flummoxed. For sustained challenges, speak to your prof apart from the crowd and offer to come back at a later time if he prefers.
Perhaps even more fundamental than timing and directness in handling conflicts is this: have a sound argument and at all costs articulate it clearly. Merely emoting passionate thoughts only reinforces the professor’s original prejudices and makes the next debate with him even harder.
If the disagreement is not academic but personal—such as you want to question a professor about your grade without appearing to be a grade grubber—approach the professor during what will be an appropriate time when she can fully concentrate on your conversation (such as office hours). Consider the following to be an example of a great opener: “Dr. Veith, I’d like to speak with you about the grade I earned on my last paper. I’m not sure I understand the rubric that led to this grade and I’m hoping you can help me understand what I could have done better so that I can improve in the future.” There. You’ve said it with respect and clarity. There is no accusation, no begging, and no defensiveness. You are showing yourself to be teachable and in want of improvement while finding out what went wrong with your grade. If, after hearing the professor’s explanation, you think you deserve a better grade, say so, and be ready to give specific points as to why, your sincere desire for a higher GPA not being among them.
The question of the hour is how far to take a challenge. The answer depends on the issue and how much it is personally worth to you. One student told us of a critical moment in her degree program when a disagreement with her professor resulted in a lower grade. Though Veronica approached the professor with proper timing and professionalism—and the professor even recognized her point—it led to one grade lower than she had hoped to earn that semester.
The disagreement was an academic one; Veronica argued that a book on the syllabus was inappropriate for a student discussion group. She invited the professor out to coffee and explained her concerns, asking for his advice on how to approach a book she found clearly offensive and unsuitable. He suggested the importance of reading books that are offensive in the hopes of learning something new; she agreed but asserted that the value of what could be gained from this book was not worth the cost.
In the end, she admitted to him that, out of principle, she would not read that book for the course. She would attend class and take notes as usual but would not be a part of the discussion. He understood and chose not to call on her, since it would have been a pointless exercise. After the week of discussion for that book, she resumed course work by reading the next novel and became involved in class as before.
Where this plan backfired was on the final exam, when one of the essay questions dealt with that book directly. Did the professor intentionally give a question from a book he knew she hadn’t read, or was it mere coincidence? It was probably coincidence, but she didn’t consider it worth a fight—after all, taking a stand means taking a risk. The definition of a principled stand is “one for which you are willing to pay a price,” and it is critical to evaluate the cost before approaching any potentially risky conversations. But the story doesn’t end unhappily. As a result of her integrity and professionalism, she retained a valuable relationship with this professor, who went on to write a recommendation leading to her first postgraduation job. In the long run, she earned the points where they mattered most.
If you’re looking for a moral to this story, it would be that pursuing a discussion with a professor may or may not have the immediate expected results, but that it is a privilege to engage with a professor on this level. When done so appropriately, it can lead to a rewarding outcome.
Of course, not all professors will be as congenial as this one. In fact, student naïveté on this could be dangerous. There are certainly incorrigible types who are imperious and vindictive if challenged. If you discover your prof to be of this species, do all you can to avoid confrontation—it will only end poorly.
Before going much further, let us offer this caveat: each professor is unique. The guidelines we provide are just that—guidelines. The odd professor (and there will be more than a few odd ones in your college career) may well break the mold and have his own style of communication. That said, there does seem to be a pattern.
Samuel was a young man from a small town in the Midwest who, upon arriving on campus as a freshman, made it his goal to take advantage of faculty-oriented social events that students usually skip so that he could get to know some of the great minds on campus. Much to his surprise, he met another student on campus—Nicholas—who was interested in doing the same.
Together these young men took over the campus by attending as many events, panels, and speaker presentations as possible. Through a few stints as research assistants, they got to know faculty well and made it a point to mingle with professors at campus-wide gatherings as often as possible. Being a dynamic duo enabled them to stay abreast of happenings around campus, and it nearly always ensured at least one familiar face would be attending the event if they felt entirely out of place.
They were not sycophants or even bookworms; they were genuinely interested in enjoying all their university had to offer. They had active social lives and knew hundreds of students on campus, largely because they hung out at a wide variety of campus events. They took care of their bodies (which meant no bacchanalias), bedded and woke early, and four years later graduated with top honors—one a Rhodes Scholar heading off to Yale Law School and the other to Harvard Medical School. The only thing fictional is their names.
What is most unusual about Samuel and Nicholas was their perceptive realization that meaningful student-faculty interaction can happen outside the classroom. They were also discreet in their selection of events: gatherings were campus wide, were large enough for them to blend in, and welcomed students. By carefully selecting events professors were already making time to attend, they had the opportunity to mingle with some of the great minds on campus outside the classroom while not infringing on the professors’ time—a brilliant solution.
Consider this radical take on getting to know your prof—a little something we call “dead time.” Simply put, “dead time” makes use of mind-numbing tasks a prof might have ahead of her by turning them into opportunities for individual face time. Express to your prof an interest in discussing a few course-related topics and offer to staple packets, file papers, or address envelopes while you chat.
Throughout history, the greatest leaders in the world cultivated disciples and mentored protégés by inviting them to be a part of everyday tasks, where diamonds are mined in simple conversation.
We aren’t suggesting this merely to provide free labor to faculty. It’s that we are painfully aware of the many pulls on a professor’s time and how few professors are able to find the time they’d like to interact with students. If you happen to have some media savvy, you might offer to help make the professor’s notes into a PowerPoint presentation, update his website, or download software that could be a timesaver to his research. (If there is enough of this sort of work, you might offer to become a technology assistant for his research, which might lead to an independent study opportunity later on.) Free up pockets of time for your profs so they are more inclined to find time for you. As an alternative to “dead time,” consider taking a stroll while you chat and walk your prof to his next appointment even if it is not on your way. It’s easier to follow your prof where he wants to go rather than convince him to stay where you want to be.
Recognize that any time you spend with a professor outside of class is not meant to improve your grade. It will prove a sour experience if that is your goal. If you are genuinely interested in hearing her thoughts on a subject, explain your interest and be sure to follow through by arriving on time, or, dare we suggest, even a little early. Few things will drown your chance at success faster than being late. To a prof who considers herself busy, waiting for a student to show is a lot like being held underwater—it can only be tolerated for so long.
Of course, being the thoughtful person you are, you are now aware of the pressures placed on professors’ time. You also recognize they are not required to make time to meet with you. Any extracurricular conversations should be considered (and treated) as generous.
If you don’t go the “dead time” route but prefer to meet in a more traditional manner, be sure to suggest times that are appropriate for the real world. A 10 p.m. pizza party might not be the best way to encourage a prof to meet with you if she has been up since 6 a.m. The best way to find a time that is convenient for her is to offer a selection of two or three times, or to ask outright if she has a suggestion.
If you are aware of a professor’s involvement in an area of research or responsibility that interests you, make it a point to help in whatever capacity he needs and be sure to express your hope of being involved further.
As a student at a small school, it is a lot easier to build relationships with my teachers. One of my middle school teachers used to tell me, “I am not your friend; I am your instructor,” and I feel like that is most untrue in college. I have found many of my professors helping me outside of class to figure out everything from which other profs to take to their opinion of local High Point cuisine. I even have a teacher that I tweet back and forth to on Twitter. I have found that in building good relationships with my profs, they can be a real help to me because they know the system.
Billy—sophomore, High Point U
Before the days of email (gasp!), there were office hours. And despite the presence of email, office hours still exist on campuses nationwide—college is a medieval institution and so it tends to hold onto quaint traditions a long time—though they may not be as popular as they once were.
Were you to poll professors on their biggest frustrations, being stood up for office hours and confirmed appointments would definitely be high up on the list. Being inundated with incoherent, overly familiar, or inconsiderate student emails would also have a prominent showing. Interestingly these two frustrations are related, and both can be distilled to one cause: personal convenience.
From a student’s perspective, it is far more convenient to email a question to a professor than to leave the comfort of a dorm room and walk across campus for office hours (particularly when temperatures are extreme). However, consider the professor’s perspective: recall for a moment the number of students packed into her lecture hall, or the multitude of seminars she offers, and imagine each of those students sending an email to her every week.
Email is a recent enough invention that many professors are still overwhelmed by it, never having progressed past the two-finger typing method (and this applies double to Facebook, texting, and tweets). Add that assumption to their three-basket workload we discussed earlier and it’s not surprising that it takes some professors days to respond to email, if they respond at all. Tack on that multiple students send emails with variations of the same question and it’s easy to imagine why email can drive professors batty. Even more than the quantity, it is the quality that bothers them. Properly done, email can be an efficient way for managing large classes. But when students send emails that read like a text to a high school chum—or worse, a foul-mouthed rant on an angry blog—the system breaks down.
Email is a generational skill. Younger professors may actually prefer to answer your question via email rather than in office hours. We are by no means giving an ironclad rule banning email, just suggesting that you find out your prof’s preference and do your best to stick to it.
Whether or not email is acceptable to the prof, it is to your advantage to make use of office hours because they provide more meaningful contact: now your name is finally linked in her mind with your face. Genuine face time can be a valuable exercise in developing rapport with your prof. It is an opportunity to interact with one of the leading minds in a field—perhaps by asking questions about recent news events or soliciting opinions on a text as they relate to her research. It is also a great opportunity to ask clarifying questions about class work or lectures, and to get an immediate reaction to the thesis of the paper you plan to write for class next week. Some professors offer individual office hours, while others make the time open to as many as can fit in the room—but there are some general principles that hold in both scenarios.
There is a significant increase in the professors’ helpfulness when you meet one on one. I had a teacher for a freshman writing class who during office hours would not only answer my questions but would also help proofread my drafts, expand my ideas, and comment on my progress. By meeting with her before the deadline of each paper, I found it nearly impossible not to get a good grade, plus I gained a valuable and close relationship.
Lauren—sophomore, Northeastern U
First and foremost, come prepared with something relevant to discuss. Unless you know college basketball is your prof’s favorite subject, asking her about the recent playoffs may be a waste of time. You could ask something like, “What is your take on the recent study about X that appeared in the New York Times?” or “Could you expand upon the point you made yesterday in class about Y? I’m not sure I fully grasped it.” Most profs typically welcome relevant chitchat, done in moderation, toward the beginning of a semester before crunch time hits, and will be happy to clarify yesterday’s point (assuming they didn’t see you surfing the Web when you should have been taking notes).
If you are looking for conversation starters, you might want to dig up her resume online to learn more about her expertise. Or check out articles or books she has written from the campus library. Don’t be fawning about it, dropping hints that you loved what she said on page forty-seven. There is a fine line between stocking up on conversation topics and simply stalking.
Second, and this almost goes without saying: show up. Once you know your course schedule, walk yourself over to the sign-up sheet and pick a time (please, oh please, don’t email the prof and ask her to do it for you), make a note of it on your calendar, and be there.
Pretend this is a job interview, where timeliness counts. In a way, it is. You may want to ask this professor to write your recommendation at the end of the term, and the little details of your meetings will play a big role in how professional she believes you to be.
Third, take advantage of off-peak times to cultivate a relationship with your prof, such as the beginning of the term when most students are taking it easy before grades become a threat. On the flip side, try to avoid busy seasons for relationship-building encounters (such as right before grades come out) unless you have a time-sensitive question to address.
As we mentioned earlier, profs are human and thus fall shy of perfection. It may be the case that you have done everything right and that, upon arriving for office hours, you find the door locked and the professor nowhere to be found. Try to be understanding—it happens to the best of us—and leave a note or send an email that looks something like this: “I had hoped to meet with you today to discuss Y, but something must have come up, since the door was locked at X:XX. Please let me know when you’ll be hosting your next office hours so I can attend.” This is not the time to roast the prof. In fact, there is rarely ever a time to roast the prof.
If your professor doesn’t even offer office hours, let him know after class that you are interested in coming by and ask to schedule a time. You may need to pursue him a bit on this one, but most profs will kindly agree.
Once you have secured an appointment, come dressed for the occasion. We are not saying “no suit, no tie, no service,” but that clothes generate conclusions about character and intelligence whether you want them to or not. Dress professionally for the reputation you are hoping to earn.
Developing relationships with professors takes persistence and a thick skin. I remember walking into a star professor’s office hours and trying to spark up a conversation—he spent the entire time typing emails on his computer, only managing an occasional filler comment. They are extremely busy, and sometimes they can make you feel pretty small. Pick up on whatever signals they’re sending you when you try to engage them. The trick is in not getting discouraged.
Hans—recent grad, Duke U
We will assume you are a student worthy of an excellent recommendation. Being worthy is a start, but it is only a start.
A fabulous letter of recommendation should not be the highest goal of your academic career, but it is a pretty good sign that you have gotten closer to reaching your goal. (Reality check: the goal of an academic career should be an excellent education that prepares you for a lifetime of growth and learning.)
Earning a glowing recommendation is a process that takes about two to three years. Sadly, many students never get close enough to a professor to even get the filaments warm. Though you may be extraordinarily diligent, realize that you can probably only achieve this sort of relationship with a couple of professors, due to constraints on time as well as personal chemistry.
A glowing recommendation flows out of extended intellectual interaction, much like the progression of working your way up to an independent study proposal. The capstone of your work is a letter where the professor honestly knows you and can speak to your integrity and intellectual development.
What makes this sort of letter so exceptional to graduate schools or potential employers is that it has the unmistakable ring of authenticity. The recommender really knows the recommendee, and so the letter carries more weight.
A good recommendation evolves over time, but that doesn’t mean you should wait until the end of your academic career to request one. As soon as you have finished a course in which you did well (and in which the professor got to know you, which may not necessarily be possible in large lecture courses), ask the professor to write you a letter of recommendation. Feel free to wait for grades to come out if you like, though that’s not necessary. Email and snail mail a letter to your professor saying you really enjoyed the class (add a few specifics here), that you’re thinking of following up with more work in this area (add some more specifics), and would he please write a letter of rec for your file. Then mention how you intend to return in a year or two to request that that letter be sent to a specific file or location, such as a grad school or a think tank.
The key is to get the professor to write the letter of recommendation as close in time to the class as possible, rather than close to the due date when you actually need the letter.
Though most professors are willing to store (and perhaps even update) your letter in their computer, if he is a visitor or is likely to leave the school, it would be better to ask that a hard copy be sent to some third party, like your academic dean. Since recommendations need to be confidential to retain their full impact, the third party is critical. (More on that in a moment.) The career center or your academic dean will most likely be prepared to store student recommendation files, which can be updated by depositing new letters as needed.
If you take a subsequent course with the professor (and we hope you will), then ask him to update the letter after you finish that course. The process repeats as often as you complete a “season” (for example, research apprentice, independent study, follow-up course) with that professor. The letter grows in length, but even more importantly, it grows in depth.
The key is to get the professor to write the letter as close in time to the class as possible, rather than close to the due date when you actually need the letter. Every professor has horror stories of barely recognizable students coming back years after taking a course to request that she write a letter. Even if the student was wonderful, chances are the memories will be hazy and the letter will be vague. However, if all she needs to do is change the date, add some final details, and print out the glowing, detailed, personal letter written several years before, you are in great shape.
If you’re reading this book for the first time as a college senior and feel like all hope is lost because you didn’t ask for recs earlier, some hope remains. With a little apologetic politeness mingled with your request and—at the very least—a month’s notice before you need the letter, your prof may be more understanding about it.
In these cases, do try to meet with the professor in person so as to help trigger memories. If you have to do it long-distance, send a picture or two (preferably dated to the time you took the course) and include in your letter several of your own recollections to help the professor situate you.
Let’s return to the big question about whether or not recs should be requested as open or confidential. We hate to sound brutal, but any recommendation requested as an open letter is virtually useless. Confidential letters are the only kind with credibility. Since profs are human and don’t want to hurt an eager student’s feelings, open letters tend to be bland. Even if it seems nice to you, the people reading the letter are far more experienced at sifting through the niceties and will wonder if the professor was simply avoiding conflict.
University career centers and preprofessional advising offices (such as medicine, law, and business) recognize the need to preserve confidentiality and are willing to maintain student recommendation files upon request. You can request that these confidential letters be sent to whatever program you wish at any time, but you won’t ever be able to see them.
Now the question is whether or not this professor will actually write that glowing recommendation you need. After all, if you agree to let him send it confidentially, how can you be sure it will be all you hope?
You accomplish this simply by asking—but might we suggest using a little artful diplomacy that you probably mastered in the days of asking a crush to the junior high dance. Do not ask, “Will you write me a glowing letter?” Do ask, “Do you feel like you know me well enough to write a strong letter?” That way if the prof (or dean or whomever you are asking) doesn’t think she can wax eloquent about your many virtues, it gives her room to respond with, “I don’t think I know you well enough” or “I know you somewhat,” which signals that perhaps she would be unable or unwilling to write the recommendation you have in mind. This little song and dance will require that you read between the lines of her response, but at least you’ll have a fair chance to find someone else if she seems less than enthusiastic.
Most profs welcome the opportunity to beg off writing letters of recommendation for weak students, those they don’t know beyond a name and grade, or those who performed poorly in their class. No matter how desperately you need a letter, you cannot be so desperate that you are willing to ask for one from a prof who dreads the idea of writing a letter on your behalf. Trust us, it won’t be pretty.
Profs understand that writing recs comes with the job, so don’t feel like you need to approach them on bended knee. However, some students have made the fatal error of not recognizing the inconvenience of such a request by forgetting to show gratitude—or, worse, by giving very short notice (less than a month). Good profs won’t retaliate by slamming you in the letter, but they are human; your prof might rush a bit, not adding that extra touch of glow to your letter just because you didn’t give him enough lead time. So timely, polite requests with follow-up thank-you notes and a final quick note letting the professor know the outcome of the job search or grad school application are not just courtesy: they are self-preservation.
The general rule of recommendations is that you want the best recommendation from the most distinguished people you can get. However, if forced to make a trade-off, go with the recommenders who know you best rather than the famous people who barely know you. Few things are as worthless as the bland letter from some bigwig saying, “Nancy was a wonderful intern in my office for six weeks and I would not recognize her if I ate dinner with her at a table for two.”
This is especially true with applications that require personal recommendations as well as academic (such as the Rhodes and Truman scholarships). The more demanding the program, the more closely the recommender must know you to make the letter any good for your purposes. For these sorts of applications, read the instructions weeks or even months before you hope to apply to get an idea of what sort of campus personalities (such as deans, coaches, or advisors) it will expect to see in your fan club.
I do not plan ahead very well. I did not ask my professors for recommendations ahead of time, and so when I had my sights set on a great job that required some rec letters from them, I had to wait. And wait. And then, I waited some more. My professors felt rushed, I was impatient, and the application deadline was approaching at a worrisome speed. It led to a very uncomfortable email in which I begged my superiors to hurry, a very uncomfortable conversation with my potential employer explaining why my application had not yet been submitted, and an altogether, you guessed it, uncomfortable situation. For heaven’s sake, listen to the advice in this chapter and ask for recommendation letters before you even know that you are applying for a job.
Rebecca—recent grad, Point Loma Nazarene U
“One of the last functions I ever attended for my students was at the invitation of several of them to be a part of a student-faculty mixer at their sorority,” a tenured professor at an elite university tells his advisees. “I arrived on time at the hall where the mixer was hosted, and much to my surprise I was the only one there. It was a cavernous room, a well-stocked veggie platter, and me. After a few minutes of getting to know the various tastes of broccoli, a student finally walked in. Not one of my students, it turned out; just the faculty interaction chair for the sorority. She did her best to make me feel comfortable, but it was painfully obvious she knew little about me. My students never even showed, and after a period of desultory conversation which rarely rose to the level of superficial, I gave up. I couldn’t wait for class the next day and the chance to single out these students for special recognition.”
This particular professor actually doesn’t mind chitchat and he enjoys meeting new students, but that was not why he agreed to attend the event. He attended as a courtesy to his students as a way of extending the educational experience beyond the classroom. The prof held up his end of the bargain, but his students failed at theirs (though they didn’t fail the course—let’s not lose perspective here).
Such student-faculty interaction can be even dodgier if the professor is not the gregarious type. A professor who might be quite animated when discussing Shakespeare in a seminar could become quiet and withdrawn when turned over to small talk at one of these mixers. Add to the batter that most profs are a generation or two older than their students, and you have a recipe for a very dull social event.
But this is not the end of the matter. There is hope. With a few well-chosen steps, you just might persuade your English professor to read love sonnets to the cafeteria on Valentine’s Day or goad your biology prof into playing his trombone for your club fundraiser ($10 for a five-minute serenade, $20 for him to stop after two minutes).
The first well-made step is to play to the prof’s strengths—some area of expertise where she will feel comfortable pontificating should the need arise. The second is to be sure the event is something students will be interested in; you may think sonnets over meatloaf is romantic, but if the rest of the student body would rather chat with a stranger than listen, it could be a very awkward occasion for both you and the prof. Save yourself, and him, the embarrassment. If you’re unsure if your event would be professor appropriate, ask yourself two questions: Is the event hosted by a university-sponsored club, and is it something I could invite my roommate’s parents to attend? If the answer is yes to one or both, you’re off to a great start. The third step is to be sure you (or the person inviting him) actually know the professor.
Once the first three steps are under way—and this is most critical—invite your professor in person at least a month before the proposed event. The personal touch will show your genuine interest in the humanity of your professor as opposed to another faceless email asking for something.
If you’re only interested in grabbing coffee with a prof after class, telling him at the beginning of the week is fine and he may be able to work you in before Friday. But when it comes to a specific slot on the calendar, and especially one after normal work hours, nearly a month’s notice is needed.
Once the professor has accepted, your work does not end there. You should keep him informed of any important changes in the program (not an hourly ticker of trivial details, but say an every-other-week reminder and update).
Several days in advance of the event, offer to meet your prof a few minutes beforehand so that you can attend the event together. If you happen to have a shy prof on your hands, this will alleviate any fears of being forced to make conversation in a room full of strangers, since you will be there to protect him from boring small talk and general silliness.
An added plus—if you are really trying to make this work—is to invite the prof’s spouse or significant other and offer to arrange for babysitting, if needed. By doing so, you have turned your event into a kid-free date for the professor.
When inviting faculty members to a function, be sure you are clear about the length of the function and any specific expectations you may have for them during that time. It is not unusual for professors to get invitations to “come speak at our house meeting” with no reference to how long they should speak or what in their vast field of study they should expound upon.
Worse yet, some students try to arrange panels of multiple speakers at once—meaning that all the profs who attend have to sit through each other’s minilectures. Students love these, especially if they can throw together a couple of faculty who they suspect will disagree with each other about some topic of the day. Smackdown professorial wrestling is great sport for students, but professors are usually less keen to participate. The more profs on the slate, the less likely any of the profs will want to be there. To them, it promises to be nothing more than sitting through a tiresome litany of superficial summaries of points they know all too well.
If the event absolutely needs a range of perspectives, then by all means try for it, but be creative. Realize that if the idea occurred to you, it has probably occurred to other students as well, and yours may be the nth invitation the prof has received. Teaming up with all the other invitations to have one major, well-attended event is probably your best shot, especially if you strategize with those other clubs about ways to make the event more attractive to your key speakers.
One last note: be sure to send a thank-you note (old-fashioned snail mail is best) within a week of the event, perhaps relaying a favorable student comment or two. A wise man once said, “Writing thank-you notes is an art form, and anyone who desires success must become its eager student.” Get yourself some professional stationery; you can never seem too grateful.
Professor Stevenson tells of a student who approached him during office hours with a genuine concern that some psychological issues (for which she was being treated) were interfering with her course work. It was a perfectly appropriate conversation and they were both quite professional about it. Then arrived her apologetic email gushing gratefully about how understanding he had been and how his words had really meant a lot to her; then she expressed some concern that she may have revealed too much.
Given the context of the situation, her email would seem to be appropriate. But since their original conversation wasn’t recorded, this email, if read by the wrong person, could incorrectly lead someone to believe that the professor was pursuing an inappropriate relationship with his student.
Dr. Stevenson admitted to us that he is certain the young woman meant no harm in sending the email, but it left him quite limited in how he could respond. University email is university property and may therefore be confiscated at any time: a terrifying thought for most professors.
As a result of the semipublic nature of email, many profs limit their correspondence to terse replies, and some don’t reply to personal emails at all. Email is fabulous for arranging appointments and clarifying class assignments; it is serviceable for follow-up clarification about something said in a lecture; but it is dangerous when used for deep, personal revelation. If you are the sort of person who sends emails to colleagues without giving them a quick scrub, consider your reputation (and theirs); invest the time to review it from the perspective of someone with the worst intentions before hitting “Send.” (This advice also serves well for all emotionally charged email conversations.)
As for texting, Facebook, and other social media, some professors are adept users (especially if they have kids of a certain age), but many will view it as an inappropriate way to interact with students. On these as on other related generation-gap issues, our advice is to adjust to what the professor finds most natural rather than trying to impose your generation’s customs on him.
Since we’ve already spoken about the professional nature of your job as a professional student, we won’t belabor the point about modest attire and minimal cologne. However, you may want to sharpen your Jedi sensitivity meter for this last point—guys especially.
Sexual overtones apply to both genders, so for the male readership who were already planning on changing out of their spaghetti strap halter tops before meeting with their female profs, you’re not off the hook just yet. Women professors want to be treated as authority figures equal to men professors, and many have struggled in a man’s world of academia to make their place. Guard your signals carefully lest you inadvertently disrespect her authority by being either overly familiar or combative—not only is it inappropriate, it could trigger an unfortunate result.
But what if you have done your part and it is the professor who is acting inappropriately? It does happen; perhaps less often than Hollywood would suggest, but more often than university administrators want to admit.
If a professor is indeed giving you unwanted looks, favors, or flattery, you have every right to put a stop to it. The law is pretty clear on this point. But as it is still a very delicate issue, might we make a few suggestions should you find yourself in that improbable situation?
First, be aware that any accusations you make about a prof will be a permanent part of his record. Or her record. These matters are not gender specific. Were you to visit your academic dean even to ask for advice on how to handle the situation, she would be required to report the prof for inappropriate behavior, whether you were certain he was ogling you or not. Out of deference for his career, be sure the professor’s attentions warrant this sort of strong response and consider keeping his name out of the discussion until you are certain it is necessary.
If it is as simple as a misunderstood gesture or comment made by the prof—say he made a crack about “sorority girls” after you made a less-than-brilliant contribution to class discussion—schedule a time during office hours to explain that his comment or actions made you uncomfortable and interfered with your learning experience. Calmly state that you would like it to not happen again. No threats are necessary.
That you had the courage to speak to him directly already communicates that you will have the courage to expose him should the behavior continue, without you needing to bully him with ultimatums. And, in keeping with the power of paper trails, send yourself an email after the meeting explaining the situation and what happened. It will automatically be dated and you can store it for reference should the inappropriate behavior continue.
However, if the prof’s attentions have clearly crossed the line into the inappropriate, you should absolutely make a beeline for the office of either an academic dean or a resident advisor and explain the situation. Both will know what to do from there. Fortunately this sort of case is quite rare and most professors are more petrified of a misstep than you are; very few are willing to risk what they have worked a lifetime to achieve. So breathe a sigh of relief and attend class unconcerned.
Nearly all of the advice on professors in this chapter also applies to your TA (whether grad or undergrad) in terms of how to manage that relationship. All of your professors started out as graduate and undergraduate students once, so it’s not as though TAs are an alien species.
However, they are in some sense a breed apart and that can alter the professor-student dynamic somewhat. You should be sensitive that TAs may have less experience from which to draw and so will probably make more mistakes or be slower to adjust to awkward situations than your professor would be. On the other hand, TAs will likely be better able to read the latest cultural cues and may therefore have a better intuitive feel for social improprieties.
If you have students (grad or undergrad) as your TAs, you should treat them in the same professional manner that you would treat a professor—and you have a right to expect the same professional treatment in return. What should drive the relationship is the professionalism behind your roles (teacher and student), not the age difference.
In large classes and especially lab courses, students often work more closely with a graduate TA than with the actual professor. In those cases, you should not hesitate to get a letter of recommendation from the graduate student. The rule of thumb that personal authenticity trumps distinguished signature still applies. Of course, best of all would be if the graduate student could write a couple of paragraphs of personalized evaluation that would be inserted in a longer letter written by the professor. It is worth asking whether or not both would be willing.
Throughout this chapter we have given a variety of tips on how to cultivate meaningful relationships within the academy. On the flip side, here is a series of professorial pet peeves that reinforce the basic point.
Being stood up. One professor claims that in his many years of teaching he has never hosted a meeting involving more than three or four students outside of class where every student showed up as promised. What an awful record!
Unprepared and unmotivated students. There are few things as disheartening as devoting your life to a topic only to find that someone who, after paying thousands of dollars to study with you, considers it so worthless that he doesn’t even review the notes you labored to provide.
Techno addicts. You may think you’re being discreet as you type a quick message into your cell phone or catch up on your favorite team’s final score, but your facial expressions give you away. That glazed expression or that odd look of glee that doesn’t relate to anything your prof just said are clear ringers that your body may be in class but your brain is elsewhere. Be aware that you are being watched. Come exam time your prof may be less than sympathetic if you can’t recall large chunks of the course material because even though your face was in class your mind clearly was elsewhere for most of the course.
No-search research. After a full day of lectures and meetings, it is not uncommon for profs to return to their inbox and find students asking them to do their homework for them. “It drives me nuts that students email me asking me to help track down a book as if I were their personal librarian, while others want me to decide their research topic for them,” said one professor expressing a commonly heard complaint. Unfortunately, modern search engines seem to make the average student even more dependent on the professor for cues than he was a generation ago. “I have no problem offering suggestions for summer reading if a student is looking for extra material on a subject, and I’ll help students puzzle out a research topic if they come in for office hours to ask. But for students who are just plain lazy and ask me over email, no way.”
Late rec requests. With scores of students flooding through a professor’s life each term, it’s no wonder she gets a bit stressed when one from the masses requests a recommendation months to even years after taking the course; even worse is when that student needs the letter in a hurry.
Scantily clad office hours. There’s nothing quite like trying to keep eye contact with a student whose neckline is less than modest, or attempting to breathe through the fog of cologne without keeling over.
Email dumping. One student went so far as to generate the following email correspondence with her prof:
Student: Do you have office hours this week?
Prof: Yes, the sign-up sheet is posted outside my door.
Student: What days?
Prof: Wednesday and Friday; the sign-up sheet is posted outside my door.
Student: Do you have any openings on Friday?
Prof: Yes, see the sign-up sheet posted outside my door.
Student: When are they?
Prof: From 12 to 1 and 3 to 4. The sign-up sheet is still posted outside my door.
Student: Would you mind signing me up for 3 on Friday?
Prof: I would most certainly mind.
Though this student thought she was being polite, ten emails prove that she was clearly more interested in saving herself the hassle of walking over to the prof’s office to sign up than respecting her professor’s time. Do your own grunt work.
Time sappers. No matter how hard they try, some profs feel as if student demands are insatiable. Even the most accessible professor will get complaints on end-of-term evaluations about how he could have done more to help students enjoy the learning process (such as come to the library to help with research or attend a cram session to help students prep for his final). The students who make these complaints have no idea about the pulls on a professor’s time and have clearly not read this chapter. We’re glad you aren’t one of them.
If after reading this chapter you’re a little overwhelmed by the professor-student relationship, don’t be. Of all the areas in your undergrad experience where time invested is directly proportional to maximum value, your relationships with your professors is at the top.