Petti is Associate Director of Insights and Analytics at Alexion . Previously, he served as Lead Data Scientist in the Decision Sciences group at Maritz Motivation and a Global Data Strategist and Subject Matter Expert for Gallup.
Hey, I can't view your site properly within Opera, I actually hope you look into fixing this.
DPT
on 27 October 2010 at 18.52 EDT
As an undergraduate considering a PhD, I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me that I keep watching things like this and keep not changing my mind.
Though it is important to bear in mind the extant realities that be, and yes, I myself have had such conversations with faculty which can be dispiriting at times, there is a message that's lost here. Perhaps at a core level, we're looking at this the wrong way.
I'm a person who has decidedly settled on pursuing an academic career and a PhD. In fact, I will humbly admit I'm one of those individuals who probably shouldn't do it for a myriad of reasons: my family is of a lower middle class and can't possibly offer support, I didn't attend an elite institution, and so forth. Though numerous faculty claimed I have potential, I could easily call it quits and reason that my intellectual energies are best applied elsewhere, in a path that's easier and involves less resistance so to speak.
But the reason I'm still dedicated to this journey is a rather simple one. Years back, I had a teacher, a debate coach who was both inspiring and brilliant at his job, a rare find these days. At the time, I was a high school junior who came from a struggling family, a family with an immigrant father and a mother who didn't attend college. I'm the granddaughter of war refugees too, so the terms “financial stability” and “perpetual employment” meant nothing to us. It was also a year after 9/11 happened and I was the only Muslim wearing an Islamic headscarf at our Midwestern institution. On a particularly difficult day, I remember turning to my speech and debate instructor and asked him, “When a person faces their whole world falling apart, their financial, familial, political, and even social world, what more is there to care about?” And he was quite a young idealistic person, but responded with wise words that resonate with me to this day, “It's fifteen hours a week, debate tournaments that is. It's fifteen hours where you can throw your whole heart and soul into something, where you can dedicate yourself entirely, so that even if the whole world does fall apart, you can reflect back on it and say you fought. You cared.”
After that exchange, the girl who came from the community filled with teen mothers, high school dropouts, and a family facing unemployment and the poverty line went on to compete twice at the National Debate Tournament, attended college, and graduated with high honors. I learned from that whole experience, at least for me, that it's better to live, sacrifice, and fight for what one is passionate about, than to look back on an uneventful life with regret knowing that one didn't even try to realize their full potential. I wouldn't recommend this path for everyone, most can't handle such prospects. But for those who identify with that raw struggle, with the possibility of utter failure, and are still willing to throw themselves into a process they can't possibly live without, then this is for them. When others in the future ask me why I wish to be an educator, a college professor, I hope I have a chance to answer, “I've witnessed teaching in the face of adversity, and it's a truly remarkable sight.”
Peter
on 29 October 2010 at 01.27 EDT
This is absolutely hilarious, and spot on.
And, sadly, Echo, getting a PhD has absolutely nothing to do with teaching. Â You end up a good teacher by luck or your own effort, but the process of qualifying to teach has no element in it about how to teach, and the hiring, tenure, and promotion process–in general–has nothing to do with teaching.
As I have posted before here, don't do it. Â If you want to be a good teacher, be a good teacher where you can do much more good. Â You don't need a PhD to do it in most cases. Â Indeed, the PhD will actively work against every good teaching instinct you have.
Nawal Mustafa
on 29 October 2010 at 09.57 EDT
Peter, what about the collective effects of this approach? Will this then reinforce admission and promotion of PhD candidates who have little regard for teaching? I understand the outlook is bleak, and it's a difficult choice except for the elite, but the question down the road is what type of academy are we then creating here if students who have a passion for teaching are actively encouraged to work elsewhere? How will that affect generations of new college students? I suppose the question is can the academy be saved from itself?
Bill Petti
on 29 October 2010 at 12.09 EDT
Nawal, the answer to your question is yes, and it has already happened.  Now of course, there are smaller, teaching-focused schools where those schools are more valued.  But Peter is right, the value of teaching (and therefore the incentive to do it well) is minuscule compared to research chops.
Hey, I can't view your site properly within Opera, I actually hope you look into fixing this.
As an undergraduate considering a PhD, I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me that I keep watching things like this and keep not changing my mind.
No. No. No. The political science one is much better. https://www.xtranormal.com/watch/7469383/
…and just in time for advising week….
Though it is important to bear in mind the extant realities that be, and yes, I myself have had such conversations with faculty which can be dispiriting at times, there is a message that's lost here. Perhaps at a core level, we're looking at this the wrong way.
I'm a person who has decidedly settled on pursuing an academic career and a PhD. In fact, I will humbly admit I'm one of those individuals who probably shouldn't do it for a myriad of reasons: my family is of a lower middle class and can't possibly offer support, I didn't attend an elite institution, and so forth. Though numerous faculty claimed I have potential, I could easily call it quits and reason that my intellectual energies are best applied elsewhere, in a path that's easier and involves less resistance so to speak.
But the reason I'm still dedicated to this journey is a rather simple one. Years back, I had a teacher, a debate coach who was both inspiring and brilliant at his job, a rare find these days. At the time, I was a high school junior who came from a struggling family, a family with an immigrant father and a mother who didn't attend college. I'm the granddaughter of war refugees too, so the terms “financial stability” and “perpetual employment” meant nothing to us. It was also a year after 9/11 happened and I was the only Muslim wearing an Islamic headscarf at our Midwestern institution. On a particularly difficult day, I remember turning to my speech and debate instructor and asked him, “When a person faces their whole world falling apart, their financial, familial, political, and even social world, what more is there to care about?” And he was quite a young idealistic person, but responded with wise words that resonate with me to this day, “It's fifteen hours a week, debate tournaments that is. It's fifteen hours where you can throw your whole heart and soul into something, where you can dedicate yourself entirely, so that even if the whole world does fall apart, you can reflect back on it and say you fought. You cared.”
After that exchange, the girl who came from the community filled with teen mothers, high school dropouts, and a family facing unemployment and the poverty line went on to compete twice at the National Debate Tournament, attended college, and graduated with high honors. I learned from that whole experience, at least for me, that it's better to live, sacrifice, and fight for what one is passionate about, than to look back on an uneventful life with regret knowing that one didn't even try to realize their full potential. I wouldn't recommend this path for everyone, most can't handle such prospects. But for those who identify with that raw struggle, with the possibility of utter failure, and are still willing to throw themselves into a process they can't possibly live without, then this is for them. When others in the future ask me why I wish to be an educator, a college professor, I hope I have a chance to answer, “I've witnessed teaching in the face of adversity, and it's a truly remarkable sight.”
This is absolutely hilarious, and spot on.
And, sadly, Echo, getting a PhD has absolutely nothing to do with teaching. Â You end up a good teacher by luck or your own effort, but the process of qualifying to teach has no element in it about how to teach, and the hiring, tenure, and promotion process–in general–has nothing to do with teaching.
As I have posted before here, don't do it. Â If you want to be a good teacher, be a good teacher where you can do much more good. Â You don't need a PhD to do it in most cases. Â Indeed, the PhD will actively work against every good teaching instinct you have.
Peter, what about the collective effects of this approach? Will this then reinforce admission and promotion of PhD candidates who have little regard for teaching? I understand the outlook is bleak, and it's a difficult choice except for the elite, but the question down the road is what type of academy are we then creating here if students who have a passion for teaching are actively encouraged to work elsewhere? How will that affect generations of new college students? I suppose the question is can the academy be saved from itself?
Nawal, the answer to your question is yes, and it has already happened.  Now of course, there are smaller, teaching-focused schools where those schools are more valued.  But Peter is right, the value of teaching (and therefore the incentive to do it well) is minuscule compared to research chops.