a crisis of petulance?

Music: Marconi Union: 13 (2008)

The semester is winding to a close and the grading season (referred to some as "the holiday season") has commenced. Earlier this week we've discussed Facebook and its relation to what we might term a "psychotic turn" in contemporary communication. The absence of limitation so noticeable (and amplified) in network technologies, the enflamed fantasies of omnipotence, are making their way to the classroom. Not only has the petulant demand arrived, but like that booger man in the Mucinex commercials, it's decided to make itself at home. I can grouse and complain about it all I want, but the fact remains that entitlement culture is here to stay, there ain't no decongestant for it, and it's time to start thinking about teaching strategies that can accommodate the inevitability of the petulant demand.

I first blogged about the petulant demand three years ago, after my first semester at the University of Texas. By "demand" I mean to refer to a Lacanian notion, but basically, demands are always for recognition (at base, what goes by the name of "love"). The irony of the demand is that while it does produce results, it rarely results in recognition because of its internal contradictions (think Hegel on the Master/slave here). Of course, Laclau has theorized the demand as the basis of hegemony politics---and I kind of agree with some of what he has to say---but I am not dealing with the collective there. I'm referring to the individual psyche and a tacit infantilism: "mine!" "gimme a cookie!" and so forth.

Although I had experienced irrational student demands as a graduate student at Minnesota at least twice, I wasn't quite prepared for the very personal, ad hominem attack from this first semester student in 2005. I've noticed the frequency of petulant demands have increased the longer I have been here. 95% of my students have been great, respectful, hardworking (or at least not prone to complaint), and the suggestion by my colleague John Daly that complaining and testing boundaries is part of the job of being a student is well taken. But that five percent is growing, and they're becoming more conspicuous. I had four incidents this semester and it wouldn't be wise to discuss them now; trust me when I say that they were all of a similar character: the charge is that I am "punishing" or "being punitive" or violating some sort of "right" (and usually over .8% of a grade or something like this). Again, this is a very small percentage of my overall student "load," but the character of the petulant demand, of course, is that you take notice: it's about recognition, it's not about learning or content or product.

I spoke at some length with one of our academic advisors in her office today. She speaks with hundreds of students a semester and has noticed the trends. I learned a few days ago that next January she's having a workshop with our graduate students to discuss "today's student," and so I popped in her office to get her take, to see if my perception that "this semester was the worst ever" was shared, and so on. Both of us have read the studies that have been coming out these past few years on "entitlement." The consensus seems to be, first, "email" is the enabler: The immediacy of email and the ability to send it at any moment one has a question (say, about the syllabus)---and now, the ability to do so standing in the elevator on one's phone---has enabled a situation in which the ritual value of office hour is rapidly losing its purchase. No longer does a student have to wait for a teachers office hours to approach her to ask a question. No longer does she need to go to the teacher. She can email quickly; and now, this student often expects an immediate response.

There's more to the issue than the ease of email, however. It was pointed out to me that, from an advisors perspective, universities are often responding to the demands of students by placating them. Some universities have moved toward "instant message advising" instead of the face-to-face discussion. The shift to a customer service model, unfortunately, is only increasing, as opposed to stemming, the demands.

I'm also hearing from some of our grads that the "grade grubbing" and righteous indignation of that 5% is disenchanting them from teaching; it's seeming less rewarding for some of them. I'm noticing something of a morale problem as a consequence.

Our academic advisor made a good point to me today: this is not going away. Either we learn how to teach with and among this "new student," or we don’t teach. We have to figure out ways to manage, as opposed to "get rid of," entitlement culture. I confess I think she is right. I regret that is the case, but I do relent. When I was trained to teach, I just didn't experience this much. In Louisiana, that culture is so geared toward a respect of one's elders that I never encountered it from undergrads (their parents would call me, but the students were rarely confrontational). But in the last four years, I am noticing a trend---and while without question my personality has something to do with it, others who are teaching are having similar experiences. Our students are changing. Again, I will say that I think our culture is moving from neurosis to psychosis, from Taylor Swift to Tom Cruise, and this is showing up in class: "Don't be glib Josh!" I can hear student saying in the near future, wagging a finger. Ok, that's a joke, but y'all know what I mean.

So, I guess the question is this: given the realities of the "new student"---and understanding that petulance is an expression of culture, not some innermost essence---how do we change our teaching practices to accommodate? I don't know the answer here. We don't only need to adjust ourselves, but we also need to adjust how we teach the teachers. How do we teach the teachers of tomorrow to manage this emergent culture of the demand?

Some years ago Katherine Hayles gave a talk here that really stuck with me. I think about it a lot, actually, which . . . has made me quite the fan. Her talk was about pedagogy and the need for multi-modal teaching styles (think about lectures like "surfing the net") to accommodate the ADD-learning modes of newer generations. She did not advance an argument for the tail wagging the dog, but called for a sort of hybridity: hold on to the hard won, centuries long achievement of scholarly "depth," but also try to teach in newer ways that engage students "where they are at." I actually tried to do this with my new Celebrity Culture class this semester (we'll see what the students say on the evals). I mean, I thought hard about this class; it was public sphere theory with Paris Hilton. Dunno if it worked--we'll see. But, my point: Is there a way in which understanding emergent epistemologies can help us, in turn, deal with demands (the latter, again, having more to do with power and recognition, less to do with learning). Is there a pedagogy for the age of the demand that does not collapse onto the dominant "customer service" model? I mean, I've had a student go directly to the dean to complain about my course policies three times now---it's akin to asking for the manager. How can we teach in such a way that displaces customer service with something else? Contract-based grading? What?

All I have are questions. I look to those of you who are smarter and more experienced than me in teaching and student interaction: what is to be done?