At SFU, it’s difficult to register for courses that fit one’s schedule and align with one’s degree path, let alone one’s own interests. What’s more, many students are made to feel that their efforts are for naught, upon realizing their professor seems more interested in returning to their lab than actually teaching their class. If you’re unable to switch schedules, these weekly lectures become four months of frustration at having a teacher whose expertise does not translate into the ability to communicate the material.
Of course, professors all have their own strengths: some are happier to discuss with a small group than a full lecture hall, while others are better able to communicate material orally than through email or syllabi. In the end, however, some professors are simply better researchers than they are teachers.
At an institution responsible for both pursuing research and educating students, the two functions need to be valued equally. Yes, students should recognize the benefits of learning in close proximity with experts in their fields, and yes, SFU is a research university, but that label is twofold.
This is not to say research isn’t a crucial component of a university — the fact that it employs active researchers and scholars is one of its distinguishing features. SFU turns out innovative studies every week, from diagnosing skin cancer, to unlocking the key to evolution, to analysing how stereotypes affect one’s housing options. This research puts SFU on the academic map, the benefits of which can be seen in the millions of dollars the university is given towards future projects.
No one wants to be taught by someone who does not want to be there.
The issue arises when a professor’s research skills are valued more than his or her teaching abilities. In some departments at SFU, professors are reviewed every two years regarding their research. If they aren’t making a certain amount of progress, they can lose merits, which sometimes results in them being given more classes to teach.
The problem with this formula is that increased teaching responsibilities are framed as a punishment to these professors. Moreover, by giving classes to researchers who are struggling or who would prefer to be behind a desk, animosity and tension is created, which is, in turn, felt by students — no one wants to be taught by someone who does not want to be there.
SFU reviews a professor’s teaching skills through course evaluations at the end of a semester and by vetting professors when they are first hired and when they apply for tenure. Yet, many students are still made to endure disinterested lecturers and incompetent instructors. Even if a professor is engaging and expresses excitement about their topic, poor communication skills can leave students with more questions than answers.
One of the most difficult problems to address is the evaluation of an individual’s teaching skills. Course evaluations can be made irrelevant by students who argue that a lot of readings and tough marking equates to bad teaching. Since this is not the case, this process of evaluation clearly isn’t entirely reliable, meaning SFU needs to develop a better way of assessing its teaching staff.
All things considered, many researchers possess expertise that is thought to be invaluable to a university, and one could not expect the university to turn away the next Einstein because he has trouble lecturing in large lecture halls. That said, 300 students should not be subjected to his lectures.
The balance between being an educator and being an expert is vital to the university as a haven for innovation, as well as an institution fostering future experts. If SFU truly values these points equally, perhaps the students, as well as the professors, will see their efforts in the classroom better recognised.
