The Elephant in the University Classroom: Time Management and Reflective Practice

A commonly held view outside of academia is that university life centres upon a ‘leafy campus and [a] quiet library; places for contemplation and debate’.[1] Stereotypes about an academic’s leisurely, contemplative life that is somehow divorced from ‘real world’ pressures are deeply socially entrenched, and they tend to be broadly applied to professors as well as students. Researchers Gail Kinman and Fiona Jones provide evidence that an academic’s levels of stress and work-life balance are ‘far in excess of most other professions’, and despite the danger that academics may ‘come across as a bunch of moaning minnies’, they argue that exposing academic workloads and reclaiming balanced lives is of vital import.[2] Although I was well aware of the stress levels I was signing up for by pursuing a doctoral degree and agreeing to take on undergraduate teaching, I am not sure that my students were as informed when making their curricular decisions.

Although undergraduate work loads are less rigorous than mine, or a professor’s, the students have less life and scholarly experience to equip them to effectively navigate some of the challenges they face. Their pressures are institutionally recognised by way of offering counselling or extra tutoring, but their instructional time can become so focused on delivering content and engaging them in activities that reflection beyond comprehension is frequently sidelined. I understand and value student-centred learning practices, and agree with critics such as Wilbert McKeachie, who argues that ‘[w]hat is important is learning, not teaching’.[3] Seminars are meant to provide students with the opportunity to engage directly with the material in small groups, and a variety of activities do help to solidify student textual comprehension as well as contextual and theoretical grounding. Lately, I have found myself wondering if students have enough instructional time to genuinely reflect upon course materials and to relate them to their lives. Mary Ryan points out that ‘students can and should be taught how to reflect in deep and transformative ways’, but that, being often pressed for time both in and out of the classroom, they frequently offer surface answers that demonstrate comprehension and ‘mollify’ their instructors.[4] Furthermore, because instructors are also constrained by time, they often invite students to expand ideas only so far before needing to move on with their lesson plan or, if in summative feedback form, with the rest of their marking. Neville Hatton and David Smith clearly expose the elephant in the university classroom, so to speak, arguing that ‘in order to foster effective reflection, what is needed is time and opportunity for development’.[5] Students tend to be given the time to formulate and articulate their opinions during seminars, but they also need to feel heard and for others to actively listen to and engage with their ideas to really reflect upon their views.[6] Although an instructor or peer may validate, encourage, challenge, or expand a presented opinion, it is rare that the student’s perspective is discursively engaged beyond a few comments. Is this enough to make students feel heard or to offer them guidance as to how their opinions could be critically pushed further?

Time is necessary to activate introspection. Seminars allow time, but that time has often been carefully planned to maximise communicating subject knowledge and to ensure textual comprehension. Making time for ‘real reflective practice’ rather than ‘a mere thinking about practice’ would mean allowing less time for everything else or, somehow, learning how to compound skills engaged to make better instructional use of time.[7] Effective reflective practice requires the mind to be ‘able to be present with itself long enough to gain insight’.[8] Academics are fortunate in that we have a measure of time to rigorously and reflectively think about our subjects and to allow our thoughts to develop. This reflection process is important to our work as researchers, teachers, and students, and it is important that educators practice as well as guide students toward genuine, deep reflection more actively and consistently. Doing this will not lessen our work loads, but it will encourage us to be present and self-aware, and perhaps generate a few quieter moments that are not overrun with thoughts of our to-do lists so that we might briefly appreciate our quiet libraries and often leafy campuses.

-S. C.
June 2015


[1]Polly Curtis and John Crace, ‘Cracks in the Ivory Towers’, The Guardian, 16 Nov. 2004: n.p. <http://www.theguardian.com/education/2004/nov/16/highereducation.careers>
[2]Qtd. in Curtis and Crace.
[3]Wilbert J. McKeachie and Marilla D. Svinicki, McKeachies Teaching Tips: Strategies, Research, and Theory for College and University Teachers, 14th ed. (Belmont: Wadsworth, 2014), p.5.
[4]Mary Ryan, ‘The Pedagogical Balancing Act: Teaching Reflection in Higher Education’, Teaching in Higher Education 18.2 (2013): 144-55 (p.146).
[5]Neville Hatton and David Smith, ‘Reflection in Teacher Education: Towards definition and Implementation’, Teaching & Teacher Education 11.1 (1995): 33-49 (p.37).
[6]Linda Valli, Reflective Teacher Education: Cases and Critiques (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1992), p.189.
[7]Stuart Parker, Reflective Teaching in the Postmodern World (Buckingham: Open University Press, 1997), p.30; also cited and discussed by Luigina Mortari in ‘Learning Thoughtful Reflection in Teacher Education’, Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice 18.5 (2012): 525-45 (p.529).
[8]Varela, Thompson, and Rosch, qtd. in Mortari, p.528.