by Beth René Roepnack
When I was a freshman, like many of my peers, I thought that education was a passive process, an absorption of knowledge from my professors and the textbook. It wasn’t until I began to teach that I realized that preparing a lecture would deepen and broaden my knowledge in a way that hours of traditional study never would.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed this. Twenty years ago, other educators were also exploring the opportunities engendered by student-centered teaching and active learning activities that require the instructor to support and guide as students take center-stage in the learning process. Today, many educators have made the transition from the “sage on the stage” to the “guide by the side” as we help our students be engaged with the material in meaningful ways.
Many students, however, find this transition difficult. They are still more comfortable when the professor is at the front of the classroom telling them what to think and what specific steps to take to meet the course objectives. In fact, they can be resentful of instructors who appear not to be doing their jobs. Students often don’t realize that it is the journey, the active learning process, that brings about the desired transformation to their worldview, not the passive absorption of facts. Education as a journey is an apt metaphor given the similar challenges and perils of travel to unknown locations and learning in a higher education institution. Both begin with awkward first steps as we explore novel terrains, interact with strangers, learn new terminology and cultural mores, and intermittently stride and traipse towards our goal.
When I explained my new teaching philosophy to my students, they were resistant. Then I shared with them a teaching story that helped them better understand the value of having me as a guide rather than a sage.
Years ago, almost in another life, I traveled to Nepal, as a pilgrimage of sorts. My travel partner and I decided to trek the Annapurna Circuit by ourselves, a 28-day journey (at that time given fewer roads on those lofty peaks) that would take us from Besisahar, through Manang, then up to 17,000 feet to make it through the pass and, finally, down to Pokhara. As we trekked in the beautiful spring weather, we met other hikers and fell in with a group of Australians who were taking a guided tour of the circuit.
We knew, from our guidebook, explored in depth from the safety of our apartment, that we would be required to stop in Manang for two days to acclimate to the elevation to avoid altitude sickness. In the late afternoon of the day before we would hike/climb to the pass, we ran into our Australian friends and they said that their guides required them to arise at 3 a.m. the next morning to begin the final hike to the pass. I flippantly responded that for once, I was glad we didn’t have a guide we had to listen to: We would be sleeping in while they fumbled in the dark getting ready for the final push to the pass.
Alas, it was not to be. They quickly informed us that we, too, would want to get up at 3 a.m. because it was the only way to get over the pass and down the other side before the warming spring sun melted the ice holding stones in place and precipitated avalanches. Having narrowly escaped a small avalanche a few days previous, we quickly decided that awakening at 3 a.m. was a great idea. Herein lies the value of a good guide: they know the terrain, they know the means for reaching the goal, and they know the perils of sleeping in on certain days of the trek.
As instructors, we may not require our students to arise at 3 a.m., but we do require them to take difficult journeys into research, spend long nights writing, and we provide them with challenges that will strengthen them for the further paths that we know are in their futures. Our duty is to lead them on journeys that will prepare them for their future and to provide them the life experiences they need to be successful in living meaningful lives. This can best be done by creating experiences for them, by guiding their living and learning.
Beth René Roepnack is the associate director of Online Faculty Development for UWG|Online.
