EDITORIAL: Building relationships with your professors

I’ll never forget being in elementary school and seeing my teachers outside of the classroom for the first time. Whether it was at the grocery store, at the local pool or out for a walk, it didn’t matter. Realizing that my teachers were real people with real lives who existed beyond the boundaries of the school playground was one of the strangest things for me to reconcile as a child.

And while it’s a phenomenon that often gets joked about by myself and my peers, I think it’s a strange perspective that never really goes away. Throughout my degree, learning about professors’ lives outside the lecture hall always fascinated me, perhaps because a childish part of me still had a hard time imagining professors doing normal people things and having real lives.

It’s this imagined divide, I think, that inhibits so many students from seeking out their instructors during office hours, after lecture, or otherwise. They are intimidated by the fictive qualities they’ve assigned to their professor.

Celebrity culture plays hugely into this. We build up bizarre expectations about people we’ve never known and are surprised – and disappointed – when those expectations aren’t met. That it’s scandalous for famous women to have cellulite, that celebrity couples divorcing is a national outrage, that an actor going to the gym is shocking news is proof of this strange attitude.

In buy viagra a much smaller but still influential way, we feel the same about our professors, and this intimidation prevents students from seeking help, guidance, or merely having a conversation.

The success of smaller programs on campus – Health Science, Arts & Science, etc. – can perhaps partially be attributed to the more tight-knit, personable atmosphere of a close student-to-professor ratio. Everyone knows everyone, and while that small community feel can be stifling at times, it also fosters accountability to fellow students and to professors.

My degree took a turning point when my classes started shrinking and I was forced to get to know my professors better. It’s easy to sleep through your alarm when you’re in a 200-person class where the professor doesn’t know your name. Anonymity, especially at university, breeds apathy. But small classroom settings inevitably meant that my professors knew who I was and came to expect my attendance, effort and dialogue surrounding course material.

My professors saw potential in my ideas when I couldn’t anymore, encouraged me to pursue opportunities I didn’t know existed, and mentored me through difficult times. When I needed an extension or modification, they understood. I wasn’t just another unknown name in their inbox, and they took the time to care.

Suddenly, I felt like if I didn’t study hard, or put significant effort into a paper, or show up to class on time, I was personally letting a professor down. I’d had enough one-on-one time in class or during office hours to feel both academically and personally invested in succeeding in that course.

Whether that feeling of obligation was largely in my head or was a true representation of the relationship I’d developed with my professors, I can’t really say. And now that it’s all said and done and my degree hangs on my living room wall, I don’t know if it matters. What matters is that my connection motivated me to do my best, and that dedication paid off.

This midterm season, find a professor you can connect to. Their mentorship, support and guidance will help get you through and make your university experience more rewarding and worthwhile.