My goal in this blog is primarily to discuss teaching issues in psychology, but sometimes I will take a detour by using the space to comment on issues facing college faculty members and students. This installment deals with next week and the arrival of students home for our holiday of family togetherness.
With apologies to T. S. Eliot: Where teaching and students are concerned, I've often thought that November is the cruelest month. Why? Well, like neglected piles of leaves surrounding the now bare trees in the November landscape, most college students have a significant amount of work to deal with as the semester races to a close. Finals are not far off, but before their inevitable arrival, reports and papers must be researched and written, remaining quizzes and exams must be taken, the occasional in-class presentation must be delivered-oh, and what about all that reading left unread until now, the bitter (almost) end? Against these realities are other realities, including the consequences of student procrastination (a topic for another time), as well as coursework handed out late in the term by faculty members who have discovered, to their surprise, that there is still lot of course material to cover but little time in which to do it. And the promised joy of the December holidays (coupled with a lengthy break) is still distant.
Thanksgiving, of course, is a respite between the gloaming of November and the academic rigors of finals--a day to relax, eat well, and enjoy the comforts of hearth, home, and family. But is it really a respite? I believe that Thanksgiving can be a challenging holiday for some college students. On the one hand, it is a holiday of tradition and comfort, of family succor, and it arrives just when it seems to be needed most. On the other, it brings together family members and various layers of relatives who have not seen one another for a quite a while, possibly since last Thanksgiving.
Before the L-tryptophan of the turkey can work its soporific wonders on the most alert undergrad lazing before the television or a crackling fire, something else happens-the well-intentioned and supposedly loving questions begin in earnest. Here's but a sampling (they will seem familiar if you have been on the receiving end): "What are you majoring in again? Is that a practical choice?" "Why are you majoring in that-there are no jobs in that!" Or worse: "What, you haven't declared a major yet? What are you waiting for?" The latter question is often accompanied by variations on "Sounds to me like you are taking a bunch of different courses in the ‘liberal arts'-whatever they are-that don't add up to much. When are you going to settle on a career?" And for those approaching the end of their college days: "Only a few short months left. What are you going to do when you graduate next May? Where will you live? How will you support yourself? Do you have a lot of loans to repay?" And: "What, you want to go to graduate school? Why? You just had four years of school and now you want more? How are your poor parents going to pay for that?" No wonder so many students can't wait to leave the house after the pumpkin pie to seek solace with their other college friends (who have no doubt just received similar interrogations from their own kith and kin)!
And what about romance? Ah, romance. I suggest treading carefully here: Asking about a student's love life can be problematic at Thanksgiving, as anecdotal evidence suggests break-ups are common this week, especially those that (against all odds) are holdovers from the senior year of high school. Better to wait and see if Johnny bothers to buy a Christmas gift for Suzie on Black Friday.
So, as you gather together for Thanksgiving, don't add to the stress of any college-age students present, especially if they are your own children or those of relatives or friends. By all means ask how they are doing in school. Ask them how they like college life, what their favorite class is, and or even about the quality of the food in the cafeteria (always a safe topic)-just avoid making too many future-directed inquiries just now. If they offer an unprompted narrative about their hopes and dreams for the years to come, listen and affirm them. Nod as approvingly to the philosophy major as you would the nursing student; praise the would-be lawyer as much as the cousin planning to become a counseling psychologist or dermatologist. You can probe more deeply about the wisdom of their choices later in December, once the semester's labors are past and many of November's stressors have been lifted.
The daughter of one of my neighbors, who attends a prestigious university in the South, may have the right idea. She told her family several weeks ago that she would see them at Christmas but was staying put for Thanksgiving-she needed her rest and sleep.
