How often do we professors open the door–both literally and figuratively–to allow students to stop by our office for meaningful conversation. With very few exceptions, I find that my students come by only when they need something or when I summon them. I am busy–and many of my students know that–but I hope I am not too busy to have the kinds of conversations that Laurie Fendrich describes in her recent post at Brainstorm.
Here is a taste:
While a professor should never get too chummy with students (if you’re a professor and you have to ask why, you have no business being a professor), an enormous part of being a good college teacher, and delivering a good college education, rests on professors opening the door—literally and metaphorically—to casual conversations, about all sorts of topics, with students outside of class.
I’m not talking about quick hellos or chats in the hallway, or even about what often evolve into wonderful conversations during regular office hours. The former is old-fashioned, friendly politeness; the latter too packed with student appointments to be completely relaxed. I’m talking about the very different experience that happens when a student casually sits down to talk to a professor who’s hanging out in the office on an off-teaching day.
This past Tuesday, for example, I had to be on campus for some early morning business. I decided to spend the rest of the day in my office doing mindless mop-up committee work, knowing it could easily tolerate interruption. After propping my door open so as to invite walk-ins, I placed my iPod in my dock, wheeled my way to a Rufus Wainwright album, turned up the volume, and sat down at my desk. I flipped open my laptop and began the fascinating task of cutting and pasting emails from colleagues into one long running text for review at our next meeting—cheerfully longing for a walk-in student to rid me of this troublesome task.
Students moving through the hallway yelled out, “Hi Professor Fendrich.” A few popped their heads in the door, asking me how things were going.  Still, no bee buzzed in through the door. Then it happened—a student from my intermediate painting class stuck her head through the doorway, then slowly nudged the rest of her body inside the office. She asked if I were busy. “Absolutely not,” I said, shutting my laptop and inviting her to have a seat.
Read the rest here.
Fendrich concludes:
Suffice it to say, all told, I had casual conversations (albeit none quite so intense as this first one) with five different students. I left on the five o’clock bus and was back home, in New York, at 6:30 p.m. I poured myself a glass of red wine, flipped open my laptop, and finished the job of cutting and pasting my colleagues’ emails into one big report. As far as I’m concerned, I got a lot done on Tuesday.
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