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Several years ago, I had a student (I'll call her Fran) who I thought was brilliant. She solved all the homework problems perfectly, aced my exams, and wrote beautiful, cogent papers. Her logic was perfect.
So I was very surprised when Fran showed me her college transcript, and I learned that she got good but not perfect grades. I would have thought that she'd get an A in every course.
One semester, Fran got interested in a research project and set up some experiments in my lab. Toward the end of the school year, she prepared a talk on her work to present to faculty and students at the college. Before the big presentation, she rehearsed the talk for me. When she finished, I said, "Fran, there's nothing I would change in your talk. You organized the material just as I would have and created the same slides I would have made. You presented the talk in exactly the same way that I would have done."
In exactly the same way that I would have...
As I spoke those words, something hit me over the head. No wonder Fran did so well in my class! She and I thought in the same way. I hadn't taught her how to think. This was just a happy coincidence for Fran when it came to being a student in my course.
I teach biology and neuroscience, often relating the fundamental ideas and theories in these fields. Nevertheless, the way I (or any other professor) teach the material, the logic I use, and the examples and analogies I employ are somewhat my own. A student whose thought patterns and processes match mine well will probably excel in my class. She or he will be able to anticipate and answer my questions. This doesn't make the student smart or dumb, just better adapted to the teaching style of his or her professor.
