Just Say No To the Sobbing Teaching Statement
I
created a piece called "TheWorst Job Letter Ever Written (Not Really)" a while ago. Today I'd
want to share a similar dreadful teaching statement with you (with kind
permission of the writer, discipline obscured.) However, I don't dub it
"the worst teaching statement" since virtually all initial drafts of
teaching statements are so bad that using the superlative in this context is
impossible. But this one is particularly terrible, and in a manner that
illustrates the genre's most typical flaw, particularly when written by women:
hyper-emotionalism.
All
words that evoke emotion and the type of desire and striving that is inherent
to this genre have been italicized, and adjectives have been bolded (there is
quite a bit of overlap between the categories, however). This teaching statement is a cyclone of
repetitive feeling-talk in lieu of clear, distinct, and memorable content due
to the mix of emotionalism, striving, and adjectives.
Facts
over emotions, showing over telling, substance over claims, nouns (and
effective verbs) over adjectives apply to the teaching statement as they do to all other
professional writings.
I'm
pleased to report that the client's new Teaching Statement shows no similarity
to this draft at all. Thank you for being ready to share, client.
"Teaching Anthropology gives several opportunity for students to consider xx and xx. When students feel at ease in the classroom and are interested with the topic, they are more likely to learn. To that end, I attempt to provide children with customized attention and participatory learning to help them get a better grasp of the world around them.
[The
first paragraph is primarily filler, stating the obvious and providing little
significant substance, none of which is remarkable]
"Students are more attentive to and excited about their
studies when they sense their professors care for them. Every quarter, I devote
time and effort to cultivating long-term connections with my students. I find
out their names, hobbies, and reasons for enrolling in the course. I also plan
events to encourage students to come to office hours, and I ask students to
join me for longer "office hours" in cafés and restaurants. In
addition, I am accessible by email, instant chat, and social networking sites.
I set restrictions for office hours and online availability, much like my
colleagues, but I make sure that students never hesitate to approach me. I
understand that kids have other needs and worries, and I understand that
personal issues and learning difficulties might make it difficult for them to
focus on their schoolwork. Many pupils, in my experience, do not seek for
assistance. As a result, I initiate interaction with pupils who seem
disinterested or inattentive, and I keep track of any unexpected changes in a
student's conduct. A little amount of worry may go a long way.
[This
paragraph is completely engulfed in "bimbo-talk"*–emotion, caring,
striving, nurturing, and a lack of limits] (despite the weird disavowal). It is
redundant and overuses I-words, using nine sentences to convey a single
substantial point (I make myself accessible to pupils) that might be made in
one. It gives a strong signal to the committee that the candidate's priorities
are skewed and that she will not complete her tenure-track work. In summary,
the applicant is portrayed as a long-term adjunct rather than tenure-track
material.]
"When students are engaged with the topic, they are also
more excited about their studies. In the classroom, I make every effort to
foster a friendly and collaborative atmosphere in which students feel free to
express their ideas and seek assistance from me. Each session begins with a fun
and interactive..."
[…]
To
summarize, this candidate portrays herself as an adjunct with inadequate
boundaries and uncertain emotional distance from her students, who is basically
not tenure-track material, using all of these strategies with the best of
intentions.
~JTTT
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