False Respect

I was recently gently admonished by one of my professors for calling him by his first name. I believe he felt that it lacked respect for a student to call him by his first name, or at least had that appearance. I've come across this attitude before, and I feel that I must explain my position on it, to avoid further confusion, and perhaps get people to think about their own actions in daily life.

Those who know me certainly understand that I feel respect to be very important. I think that respect is the cornerstone of frith, and that frith certainly leads to a more polite society than political correctness. Frith acknowledges, perhaps even celebrates diversity, whereas political correctness highlights difference and separation. On a personal level, respect forms the basis of any good working or learning relationship. I've had truly ugly clashes of wills in the past with teachers that I've not respected, then turned around and called an elder whose opinion I highly respect a dirty old bastard with a grin on my face and jest in my voice. Those who know me know that this is true; those that do not will simply have to take my word for it, as it is the assumption that runs through this essay.

Addressing a professor or teacher, or even an elder, by their title and last name is a traditional sign of respect in the version of American culture I had passed on to me. I don't know the antiquity of this practice; our stereotypical view of the New England Puritans has them addressing each other as Goodman Lastname and Goodwife Lastname, but I don't know if that's accurate, or if it originated in that strait-laced subculture. Thus, the modern code says that one must provide the appearance of respect by calling your teachers and bosses by their title and last name. To my mind, this is detrimental to an actual classroom, because it inhibits the willingness of students to learn, their ability to communicate with professors as intellectual equals, and might delude a professor into thinking he has the class's respect, a false belief that will often result in him losing it further.

In my years of schooling, I have noted students are unwilling to learn from an instructor they do not respect. They refuse to take what the instructor offers, seldom learn the material, derail the lessons, and this is when they bother to show up. In some cases, these simply may be instructors who are unworthy of respect; my own high school economics teacher was pressed to retire because our class so lost respect for him that I was asked to write a letter of complaint, which was then signed by the class. However, in many cases, these are instructors who deserve some measure of respect, for their knowledge, if not their abilities or accomplishments. Yet, this lack of respect is often hidden behind a code of conduct; you may not talk back to the instructor, you may not express dissatisfaction in person, and never, ever, do you show an instructor that you do not respect that you do not respect them. Thus, a veneer of respect is maintained, at the expense of feedback that might actually help an instructor.

In class discussions, these titles introduce a barrier to the discussion of ideas. Instructors are placed on a level above the class, separated from them by the use of titles. Consciously or not, this influences the class discussion in that the instructor is placed above the normal level of conversation; to use military terminology, it is as if they possess the high ground, simply because they are. Thus, not only do the instructor's comments carry more weight because of his or her superior knowledge, but their comments are not subjected to the same level of scrutiny as other comments might be. This inhibits learning, both of the material and especially of critical thinking ability.

All too often, though, it is only the appearance of respect that is provided by the use of titles… I know many students who will "Doctor", "Professor", "Miss", "Misses" and "Mister" their way through classes, only to talk about what a rat-bastard their professor is once his back is turned. I've admittedly done this towards those I have no respect for… it is a practice I'm trying to amend, but old habits are difficult to break. This doesn't provide for respect, but only a thin veneer of civility. It also blocks an instructor off from valuable feedback from their students. Commentary that might otherwise be simply noted in the course of a year is instead saved for teacher evaluations. In this time, it has had an opportunity to fester and grow, rather than being acted upon and perhaps corrected.

It is not the intent of this paper to offer solutions; I personally think that they are self-evident, though difficult to implement. Respect must be returned to the classroom, and this will only happen when students are taught respect while young. Unfortunately, teaching children respect when they are young will not happen without a major paradigm shift in our country with the regards to the rearing of children. The discussion of how to implement that shift, however, is beyond my merely mortal capabilities, and would fill a volume as thick as my leg.

What the intent of this paper is, however, to explain how this fits into my own personal philosophy, and, more importantly, actions. As you may infer from above, I find the actuality of respect to be far more important than it's appearance. Thus, I often omit the titles of respect… the "sirs", the "Professors", the "Your High Holy Dean of All Information That Will Grace My Poor, Tender Brains", when there is respect for the person, not just the position. Alternatively, I will use a form I learned in the South, where the title is used with a first name, as it shows the form of respect, but also more cordial and familiar relations. When the respect extends no farther than the position of the addressed, I often include it as a way of reminding myself that this person is to be respected, if not for themselves, for what they know and can do. If there is no respect at all, one seldom has to wonder.

Respect, as I've mentioned above, is very important to me. Thus, the professor who gently admonished me will likely be greeted with the form he prefers when I speak to him next. I hope, however, that this has provided somewhat to be think on, and some insight into my own character.