Sara Hebel, "Patrolling Professor's Politics, "Chronicle of Higher Education, February 13, 2004

The article concerns "The Academic Bill of Rights" as proposed by David Horowitz and his Center for the Study of Popular Culture. Horowitz and his group studied colleges and universities across the country and not only found that there are ten times as many Democrat-registered professors as there are Republican-registered professors, but that these radical bomb-throwing liberals are using college classrooms to indoctrinate students, and teach them that America is evil and Osama Bin Laden is good—in short, they're ruining America. Accordingly, Horowitz has proposed an "Academic Bill of Rights," which, if passed, would require professors to offer politically balanced analyses, use texts that present more than "one side of an issue," and prohibit these leftist hate-mongers from "gratuitously" singling out students' political or religious beliefs for ridicule. (Apparently, it will still be o.k. to ridicule students for their beliefs, as long as it's not "gratuitous.") The article is mostly an explanation of Horowitz's program, but it should nevertheless raise some questions for us as teachers: I doubt anyone here would consciously discriminate, but do we unconsciously discriminate against students who hold beliefs different than our own? It is important we address these questions explicitly, come up with our own arguments for how we allow for a diversity of political beliefs, or else be burdened by things like the "Academic Bill of Rights."

Jon Mills, "Better Teaching Through Provocation," College Teaching, Winter 1998 v 46 n1 p21 (5)

Mills asserts that teachers who ask intentionally provocative and unsettling questions can awaken students from their "dogmatic slumbers." Mills suggests that during discussions, many students rely on "esoteric," "pedantic," or even "banal" responses to respond to professors' inquires. However, Mills maintains, teachers that compose discussion questions that are "generally intriguing," "presented with emotional intensity," and "that encourage participation" are usually meant by excitement—n short, be provocative and your students will meet you with enthusiasm. Mills, however, offers some warnings: make sure your questions aren't too broad, always direct your questions to the entire class, seriously respond to all students' attempts, and use the discussion to tie in main points from lecture or reading. It might be important to interrogate Mills' conclusions in relation to history. As a philosophy professor, provocation comes a bit easier for Mills. He can state "God does not exist," or "corporal punishment is just," and be taken seriously by his students—such is the nature of philosophical and ethical discourse. But, if I were to stand up in front of my class (trying, lets say, to spur a discussion about the religious defenses of slavery in the pre-Civil War era) and say, "Slavery is good, it says so in the Bible," would students take me seriously? Or would they see right through what I was trying to do and offer the same "esoteric" and "banal" responses? Surely, provocation has its place in the history classroom, but how do you get students to seriously engage your question without seeing right through what you're doing?

Jill Carroll, "Stick to the Syllabus," Chronicle of Higher Education, May 30, 2003

Carroll argues that professors should leave their politics at the door when they enter the classroom. Adjuncts, she says specifically, should refrain from airing their political laundry in the classroom because of the uncertain state of their job. Her arguments for doing this are well tread: voicing our own political concerns makes students hesitant to share their own beliefs, teachers who use the classroom for their political ends are often patronizing, etc. I'm not sure what Carroll's discipline is, but in history, can we separate politics from the past? As we're all aware, the historical narrative we present (as well as those presented by anyone else) is largely a product of our own politics and social vision—shouldn't we be teaching students how to interrogate these narratives rather than misleading them and saying politics and history are separable? What would history without a political slant even look like? Of course, there is the right way to do something and the wrong way. While I'm not advocating we should stand up in front of our class and offer a treatise on why the Iraq war is unjust (an extreme example Carroll uses), why not talk about the ways justness and war have been linked in the past, and tie it into the present-day debate, making room for many opinions, but not hiding your own? In short, Carroll argues non-tenured teachers should sell-out for job security. I argue, what do we even want the job for if not to reach students and get them thinking about things in different ways and from different perspectives?

Jay Parini, "Cultivating a Teaching Persona," The Chronicle of Higher Education, September 5, 1997.

Parini's main point is that, when developing a teaching persona, it is useful to imitate teachers you have admired. It is certainly a good point to make. Many of us have emulated writing styles we admire, or methodologies we appreciate, so why not do the same for teaching? Parini uses two examples he had of teachers in his past who he found extremely effective. The common theme with both these teachers was they were passionate about their subject matter and were able to pass this on to their students. Again, it's a good point to make: you can't expect your students to be enthusiastic if you're not; if you are enthusiastic, that will spread to your students.