Professor's Problem: Knowing Audience

I’d run out of coffee in the office. So I made a note that I needed to hire an assistant to avoid this calamity in the future then headed to the corner diner. This happened enough that they knew me at the diner: they brought me a fresh cup about every 5 minutes when I sat there.

As I finished my second cup a man slid into the booth opposite me. He had that look of desperation I knew all too well. He had a problem. He wanted help.

“I have a problem,” the man said, “I heard you are somebody who can help.” I smiled.

“I know.” I replied. He looked quizzically at me.

“You know my problem? Or you know you can help?”

“No. I don’t know the specifics of your problem. I could just tell you had one. And I can always try to help.”

“Oh, I was confused. Because if you knew you could help, you would have to know my problem. And to be honest, I’m not even sure of my problem. I just know I have one.” He rambled.

“Okay, this is starting to sound like an Abbott & Costello routine. Why don’t we start with your name?”

“Oh, yeah.” He settled down, “That would be a good place to start. My name is Harrison Hofzinger. I am a professor at the University here in town.”

“Well, nice to meet you Professor Hofzinger.” I smiled, “I know most of the faculty, but do not recall your name.”

“Well, I don’t teach much…mainly do research. So I’m stuck in the back.”

“With a name like Hofzinger, I would remember seeing that…I read most of the articles coming out of the University.” I was wondering if we were heading back to Abbott & Costello land…

“As an assistant professor, I do a lot of the grunt work…scheduling, digging up references, compiling data…so I get a mention here or there, but I haven’t gotten published on my own yet.” He seem a bit dejected, but then perked up, “But I will soon! And in the mean time I’ve gotten a bit of a break! And therein lies my problem.”

“And what might that be?” I queried.

“The School of Continuing Education asked me to teach one of their courses for working professionals. I was a leadership course. I was so excited. I’d taught similar class for undergraduates. So I felt ready. But…” He trailed off.

“But…?” I prompted him.

“But I am bombing,” he continued, “The class is a disaster.”

“How so?”

“They don’t pay attention during my lecture…just stare at their phones. They scoff at my pop quizzes. They don’t bother to watch the humorous, yet insightful video clips I show.”

I was intrigued. So when Marge appeared with my third cup of coffee, I ordered my new friend one as well…along with some pieces of pie. I had the feeling it was going to take some time.

He walked me through his class: the material he used, the videos, the lectures…all the details. And it was right there…big as the dollop of whipped cream Marge had put on our pecan pie slices.

“You mentioned you taught leadership principles as an undergraduate class?” I asked.

“Yeah,” the professor replied. “And I have to say, I always got good course evaluations” the professor proudly replied. He had the right to be proud, but he hadn’t seen it yet. I decided I would try to lead him down the path instead of blurting it out my thoughts. I found it’s better if people find things for themselves.

“That’s great,” I said, “That the undergrads found your class worthwhile. Young people with limited experience often struggle with leadership.”

“Yes,”” he agreed, “I mean many of them are leaders…captains of sports teams, presidents of student organizations, participants in student government…”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to say they weren’t leaders. I myself was the assistant vice president of my college’s Dungeon & Dragon’s club.” I swear I could feel the eye roll that the Professor gave me?on that one. But I pressed on…

“But what kind of experience do your current students have? The ones in your professional ed class?”

“Well,” he chirped, “They are not captains of industry, but they are on their way. Most of mid-level managers who are trying to get to the next level.”

“So what level are they on now? What are their duties and responsibilities?”

“Oh, well, it varies…but overall they supervisor people, manage budgets, have to meet deadlines, oversee large projects…”

“When they supervise people,” I interrupted, “Does that include hiring and firing?”

“Well, yes,” The professor said, “And boy, have they told some stories over breaks…”

“And the budgets? How big?”

“Again, it varies…but some are multi-million dollar budgets.”

“So their duties and responsibilities are a lot more than your typical undergrad. And the years of experience it took them to get there…”

It was like a light bulb clicked on over the professor’s head. He was halfway to brining a forkful of pie to his mouth when he froze as the idea hit him.

“My students are different!” He muttered…still frozen as his brain continued to process it. I smiled and ate some pie.

A few seconds later he put his fork down and let loose a stream of conscious thought…

“I took my undergraduate class material and slapped new logos on it. I didn’t change any content. But the students in my profession education class are different than undergraduate students. They have more experience, different experiences, and different needs. They probably want more practical information that they can use! Not theory…well, no, theory would be helpful, but they would probably find more value if the theory was tied to practical application…”

His rambling lasted long enough for me to finish my pie. I especially enjoyed when he made a commented on his comment about his professional education student telling stories over break. He said he should be having them share them in class. His long pontification was actually quite enjoyable to listen to…he was having an epiphany that different audiences had different needs.

After wearing himself out, the professor finally fell silent. He finished his pie and coffee. Then got up and stood before me. He held out his hand…

“Thank you,” he said as we shook, “I’ve got to get going and revamp my class.” And just like that he was out the door.

As if on cue, Marge was there…with a fresh cup of coffee.