When a story comes at me from three directions, in three different forms, it tends to get my attention. In this case, it happened to be a story that resonated with one of my very many favorite topics.
Within the space of hours, three things crossed my path.
1. An email from a colleague pointing the faculty to
this story about student emails.
2. A print copy of the same story left on my desk by another colleague.
3. A
TaxProf Blog post on the same story, with links to six other faculty blogs mentioning or commenting on the story.
It's one of those stories that I think takes the extreme and tries to paint it as the norm. The story collected some examples of what justifiably could be called outrageous, obnoxious, or simply unthinking emails sent by students to their professors. There's the student who cut class and requested the professor's class notes. There's the student dissatisfied with a grade who sends an unkind email. There's the future leader of America who notified her teacher that she was late for class because she was dealing with the consequences of heavy drinking at a "wild weekend party." There are emails from a student asking advice on buying school supplies, from a student explaining he would be cutting class so that he could play with his son, from students criticizing other students or faculty's attention to those perceived as undeserving of it, and more.
The article, however, jumps from the question of inappropriate content and tone to the claim that "At colleges and universities nationwide, e-mail has made professors much more approachable. But many say it has made them too accessible, erasing boundaries that traditionally kept students at a healthy distance." Mention is made of the demand, expressed directly or indirectly, for instantaneous response. The article suggests that the concept of students as consumers has left students feeling entitled to make demands and demonstrate rudeness. Faculty, concerned with student evaluations that increasingly are used in making retention, tenure, and compensation decisions, hesitate to reprimand students clearly in need of some admonition.
There are faculty who feel pressured to be available for student email responses on a 24/7 basis. Yet there are faculty who deal with some student emails simply by failing to respond. According to the article, a faculty member of the Harvard Graduate School of Education suggests that these sorts of email indicate students "no longer deferred to their professors, perhaps because they realized that professors' expertise could rapidly become outdated," and that the notion faculty were "infallible sources of deep knowledge," which may have underpinned student deference, has weakened.
Layered on top of these concerns is a general consensus that students are oblivious to the consequences of putting something in an email. Inappropriate emails can tag a student as unprofessional, immature, irresponsible, or even dangerous. When it comes time to seek recommendations, the negative impressions left by an email may still be lingering in the minds of the faculty.
Wow.
The article raises more than a few issues, but it also puts the situation in a misleading light. Nowhere, for example, does the article provide or refer to empirical evidence indicating whether these "it's all about me" emails constitute 2 percent, 20 percent, or 75 percent of student emails to faculty. Nowhere, for example, does the article focus on whether, as I and others speculate, the majority of these emails come from immature, inexperienced, and clueless undergraduates rather than from graduates. Nowhere does the article use one of my favorite techniques for analyzing the impact of technology, which is to disconnect the technology from the content and determine if the latter is a phenomenon created by the former or simply an existing characteristic repackaged in the new technology.
My experience, and that of other law faculty with whom I've spoken, with whom I've communicated, or whose comments I've read, is essentially uniform. The overwhelming majority, perhaps almost all of our student emails, are polite, appropriate in terms of content, and deferential. For me, the emails fall into three major categories. There are the emails in which a student apologizes for having to miss or having missed class, asking for nothing and almost certainly intended to prevent me from getting the idea that the absence suggests a deeper problem. There are emails dealing with what I call the "administrative management" of the course, with questions and information about enrollment, "clickers," seating chart photos, and other details that are numerous early in the semester. There are emails in which students ask substantive questions, some requesting clarification and others pushing the discussion beyond what class time permitted us to explore. Other emails include requests for recommendations, advice about getting jobs in tax or estate practice, and similar exchanges well within typical student-faculty communication boundaries.
Of course, my colleagues and I could be in for a surprise. Perhaps what is happening today in undergraduate school will be transpiring several years from now in law school, medical school, and other graduate programs. We won't know for a while. But before concluding that rude or inappropriateness in emails is a monopoly held by college students, consider something a teacher friend mentioned to me last night. Emails from the parents of K-6 students sometimes manifest a disrespect that is no less unsettling than the rudeness displayed by students in their emails. Perhaps that tells us something about why youngsters aren't learning manners: perhaps they are being taught, overtly or by example, how to be expert in acting badly.
It is important to remember that email does not cause disrespect. I remain unconvinced that non-anonymous email somehow lures people into turning wicked on their recipients. I understand how email tends to be written at speeds that defy application of the rules of spelling, grammar, and pronunciation. I understand that email, when not carefully written, can lose something in tone. I do not think that email somehow turns otherwise polite students into seekers of a professor's class notes.
I started teaching before there were emails. In the days before email, there were rude students. There was the student who walked into my office at 5:30 the afternoon before an exam, with dozens of pages of questions reaching back to the beginning of the semester and that would take several hours to answer. I turned him away. Email had nothing to do with his lack of judgment, his failure to heed my warnings about the need to assimilate throughout the semester, and his obvious disregard of my advice to avoid studying during the evening before the exam because at that point sleep is far more important to improved accomplishment. Email had nothing to do with the student who rudely made clear she deserved special treatment to accommodate the classes she missed because she was working in a family member's political campaign. Email had nothing to do with the student who arrived late for a class, tried to make an announcement as a representative of a student organization, and then turned to leave the room after having done so (though stopped by my inquiry, "You're in this class, aren't you? So why aren't you staying?" —- he stayed.)
Blaming email for student rudeness, immaturity, inability to exercise discretion over email content, or selfishness is like blaming guns for homicides, dollar bills for tax fraud, and trash for littered highways. Somewhere along the line, post-modern culture needs to reshape itself and pull the notion of individual responsibility back from the island to which it has been exiled.
It also is important to recognize the improvements that email has brought to education. When my students have a question at 2 in the morning, they can send it to me. My students know they won't get an instantaneous response. I tell them that. They're sensible enough to understand why. In the days before email, the student either would try to remember the question or would write it down. They would come to my office, and puzzle over their handwriting, or try to remember the question. It was inefficient. Now it's much more efficient.
In the days before email, the days before the exam were characterized by lines of students outside my office door waiting to ask questions. Sometimes I used an appointment arrangement but that didn't stop unscheduled students from dropping in. I would answer a question for student A, and twenty minutes later student B would ask the same question. I would repeat the answer. By the time student F asked the question I knew I needed a new approach. That conclusion was reinforced by the incidents of students in the hall overhearing the discussion and asking to join in, but who then needed to be brought up to speed. So I tried the group review session. That failed. Not only did it become increasingly difficult to find a suitable time and a room, it also frustrated students who wanted their questions answered first so they could leave and resume studying. See? More proof that "it's all about me" originated other than in the technology. What the technology has done is to permit a student to email a question, which I answer. I then post the question and answer to the discussion board section of the Blackboard Classroom for the course. Now all other students can read the question, and, if interested, the answer. There is no need for a student to ask the question of me again. Often, another student will spin another question off the one that is posted. The system is fairer, because it gives everyone in the class an equal opportunity to learn from the posted question and answer.
Email has also proved useful when supervising directed research projects. The number of visits to my office has dropped significantly. The student can email drafts, I can mark them up and add comments, and I can email the edited draft back to the student. Office visits are appropriate when the analysis or discussion is too complex or voluminous for email.
Only once have I seen a rude email, and it was from a student to another professor; I was copied. An Associate Dean who was copied on the email responded so brilliantly I was ready to stand up and bow. This episode causes me to wonder if students are rude because they get away with it. As several faculty in the article mentioned, they set down ground rules for the use of email. One has gone so far as to require a thank you, something I think the student should have learned LONG before arriving in college. Nonetheless, it is an unfortunate obligation of university faculty to do remedial work on account of the failings of those previously charged with the stewardship of our nation's children.
What I don't understand in the article is the notion that email makes faculty too accessible. Faculty can control the degree to which they are accessible. In many instances, the long-standing complaint was that faculty were NOT accessible. If the impact of email on the attempts by some faculty to insulate themselves from students is to drag hermit faculty out of their research labs and away from their research projects, I applaud that consequence. Faculty are paid to teach. Research institutions exist for those who wish to research without what they see as the "inconvenience" of interacting with novice students.
Nor do I understand the claim that student email goes "too far" when it involves comments such as "I think you're covering the material too fast, or I don't think we're using the reading as much as we could in class, or I think it would be helpful if you would summarize what we've covered at the end of class in case we missed anything." Perhaps the professor is going too fast. I've been known to slip into doing that. If a student thinks the readings aren't being used sufficiently, the email provides an opportunity for the faculty member to explain why the readings are intended for pre-class consumption and preparation. A student who wants an end-of-class summary has provided the faculty member with the opportunity to explain why a student learns more when a student does the work than when the student is handed something that has sharpened the mind of the professor. In other words, the student has demonstrated he or she needs to realize that a person does not lose weight and get into shape by watching someone else ride the bicycle.
I'm glad the article drew people's attention to the topic. I hope that my elaboration has put the matter into a more realistic perspective.