Proximity of the professor is a problem

Have you ever passed less than a meter from a working student's desk and had that student look up, see you, and ask a really basic question?  Especially a "question" that seems to be searching for the teacher's approval rather than for authentic feedback?

I had lunch with two art teachers yesterday.

James told us of the best of his undergraduate professors, someone who was legendary within the entire program.  Apparently, sometime in the middle of his three hour drawing intermediate class, the professor would walk out of class.  He'd walk down to The Corner for a coffee, returning with cup in hand maybe 45 minutes later.

At first James was taken aback, appalled, indignant.  "How could he leave us?  That's unprofessional.  We need his help!  How does this guy consider this "teaching?"

After a couple of times, James noticed what was happening.  James was a dedicated art student, someone who cared deeply about getting better at drawing.  So when the professor left, of course James continued to work diligently, alongside the other art majors.  

And so, James spent 45 focused minutes working on his own, without a safety net.  James didn't ask for approval when there was a decision to be made about his piece - he made the decision himself, and got on with things.  The professor wasn't there to offer advice, solicited or not; so James stopped worrying about what the professor might think, and instead advanced the piece the way he himself wanted.  When the professor returned, conversations with him became less of the tone "what do you want me to do next?" and more of the tone "here's my work, what advice do you have?"

Then James followed up with a thought about his six(!) children.  If James and his wife are in the room while the children are playing, they hear a neverending stream of complaints, requests for help, demands for justice, and so on.  The noise is deafening.  But, if the children are not in proximity to adults, in virtually every case they play in relative harmony.  Arguments are resolved quickly.  A kid who doesn't get their way either joins in with the others and does things their way, or just finds something else to do.  The adults in the house may get several dozens of minutes of peace.

Finally, Shari (proprietor of The Muddy Rabbit pottery, and ceramics teacher) said she often starts making her own projects during class.  Not only is she modeling appropriate technique, demeanor, and procedures in the studio, she is physically separate from the other students.  After a day or so, she says, learning how to throw clay on the wheel is a matter of playing around and finding out.  She's given all the advice she can - they simply need to practice, paying attention to what they're doing, powering through frustration, until muscle memory is established.  When she is working on her own project, she's close enough to answer questions posed out loud (whether or not the answer to that question is "keep trying!") and to notice when a student truly needs faculty intervention; but far enough away that students don't continually say "is this good, Mrs. Jacobs?" 

James and Shari were describing in different contexts why the ground state of my class consists of me at my computer in front of the room.  Students must physically walk to my desk to show me their progress or to ask a question.  When a student instead shouts a question, I ask them to come forward - you might not be surprised to know that this shouty student often stays put at their desk, seemingly having figured out either the answer to their question, or that their question wasn't as urgent as they had thought.

James said he's heard the term benign neglect to describe the technique of strategically ignoring his kids and his students.  Physics teacher Matt Greenwolfe adopted the term that I use, feedback inertia.

Whatever you call it, you're not letting your students down if you seemingly leave them alone for extended periods.  Be there for them... but only when they truly need you.