Older and wiser

You know the feeling. You're in precept or seminar, the professor asks a question and the response is silence. What do students do? They look down, shuffle through the reading or notes and steal quick glances at the professor as he looks around the room. The professor might rephrase the question and possibly some brave soul, or, more likely, the student who hogs all the class time pontificating, will answer the question.

This process may occur once per class or may even happen several times during a lecture. Of course, this is not the way we, as bright and intelligent Princetonians, should act. We should be engaging in vigorous academic debate over problematic portions of the reading, or asking probing questions about the material. Unfortunately, this is rarely the case — perhaps because we have not truly grasped the reading or are simply too shy to express our views. Whatever the reason, lack of student participation is all too often an academic reality at Princeton.

During the past three years I have seen this situation play out in numerous seminars and precepts. Students seem to have one of three objectives during a seminar or precept: First, dominate the conversation and impress the preceptor. Second, make one reasonably intelligent comment as if they are punching an academic time card. Or third, maintain silence in the hopes of fading into the background and escaping the preceptor's attention. While this does not always happen, this general trend in precept sociology tends to be the rule rather than the exception.

To remedy this, I think we should look to community auditors. Now, my first experience with community auditors was a poor one. During my first semester freshman year, I felt a great sense of bewilderment as a group of senior citizens hogged all the handouts and all the seats in our small precept room. The first few weeks, some students were forced to sit on the floor. The auditors outnumbered the students almost two-to-one and I felt a sense of anger: Why were these seniors — senior citizens that is — invading my institution? Have my parents really paid all this money so I can come to Princeton and sit on the floor? Whenever I saw these auditors, I would roll my eyes and wonder why a University that claimed to be so clearly focused on its undergraduates decided to allow people from the community to simply walk in off the street and attend lecture — my lecture.

Fast forward three years. One of my current seminars has four undergraduates and three community auditors. As a seminar, the class is split between lecture and discussion, and thus all those in attendance are forced to participate. The participation of the auditors initially annoyed me, as the feelings of invasion from freshman year resurfaced. During the course of the semester, however, the auditors have made a substantial contribution to the class. Their questions and prior knowledge of the subject matter bring a new perspective to class.

In addition, the feeling in the seminar is different than in an undergraduates-only environment. The stress does not seem to be simply on making a good comment or impressing the professor, but rather on holding a good discussion and learning from the other individuals in class. Class participation is obviously a component of receiving a good grade in a course, but I've found during my undergraduate career that students spend less time learning from their peers and establishing a good precept rapport with them and more time making sure their voices are heard.

Community auditors do not attend courses to get good grades for their transcripts; rather, they do it out of pure academic curiosity. Unfortunately, despite our good intentions, as undergraduates we get more obsessed with the product than the process.

Perhaps letting auditors participate in precepts and seminars will help us recapture the spirit of academic inquiry. They are there to learn and participate and are also interested in what students have to say.

While this may help us become better participants in school, it could also put us on track to become better listeners in life. Seth Wikas is a Near Eastern Studies major from Beachwood, Ohio. He can be reached at sawikas@princeton.edu.