Stephennie Mulder
History of Art

Today, news of the looting of the Baghdad museum keeps coming, in hourly installments on websites, radio, and television, and I am thinking of my teaching philosophy. The looting of this museum has hit me hard. I study Islamic art, so naturally that museum’s fate directly affects me and the work I do. But I have also been involved over the course of the past few weeks in putting together an exhibit in Meyerson Hall focused on protecting Iraq’s cultural heritage. The purpose of this exhibit is, in fact, to teach: to raise awareness of endangered sites in what was once Ancient Mesopotamia, and to emphasize the supra-political nature of such concerns. The protection of this heritage is vital for reasons that go far beyond the academic pursuits of scholars or the claims of politicians. Iraq is the “cradle of civilization:” birthplace of Abraham, home of so many of humanity’s first experiments with everything from writing to agriculture.

Above all, encouraging such an understanding is the very core of my teaching philosophy. Artistic and cultural heritage represents who we are, the visible expression of human identity. It is the outward manifestation of all of our inward values, beliefs, and intellectual achievements. Destroy a work of art, a building, and you may as well burn libraries. It is this, an understanding of the central social and communicative function of human visual expression, that I would hope students take with them when they leave my classroom.

Education was a hard-won benefit in my life. I didn’t graduate from high school, and in the summer following this setback I had to consider seriously whether it was worth the battles I would have to fight in order to be able to go to college. But once I did, the experience transformed my life. For that reason, I have a deep conviction that education can affect the course of the world for the better, even if it is only through one or two student’s lives. I know this sounds utopian. Perhaps this will change with time, and I’ll become more cynical: I hope not.

I was fortunate to have had as allies several inspiring teachers. My gratitude to them is part of what motivates me as a teacher now. As naively idealistic as it may sound, I want to return some of their generosity. After a year of being a TA, I feel more strongly than ever that becoming a teacher is what I want to be doing. It’s a long, slow process, education, and I have no illusions that my small efforts will change much of anything in the immediate future. But not to try, it seems to me, is a far greater mistake.

Before this nomination, I have to admit I had never considered whether I have a teaching “philosophy.” In fact, it seems somewhat peculiar for the young student that I still am to make such a claim. A philosophy seems like something that can only be built over a lifetime of experience and reflection. I am still in the process of learning what works and what doesn’t in the classroom. But I can speak about a few of the ideas that I feel committed to as a teacher. All of these ideas grow out of my personal experience with education, and all of them are still being tested and formulated as I teach each week.

Each student comes to the classroom with a set of preconceived notions about the topic under study. My job as a teacher is to understand what those ideas are, and both challenge and make more complex that pre-existing understanding. I would wish that, far from being given tidy answers to neatly defined problems, students would leave the classroom less certain of their pre-existing premises.

Rather than merely memorizing slides, students should take away a framework for thinking and analyzing information that can be applied in many areas of their lives. Learning to look, to see, learning to analyze a work of art critically, encourages a kind of thinking that is a beneficial skill in diverse fields.

A second principle to which I feel strongly committed is that students learn best when they are emotionally engaged. I find as I am teaching that I am often seeking a “hook:” a way in, a means by which to make the material relevant and personal. There is no surefire way of doing this, and each student is engaged by different issues. An important part of my job as a teacher involves customizing the learning process for students. I feel this aspect of making learning personal is extremely important. I try to be as available as possible to students for individual consultation or discussion. In the classroom setting, I attempt to create a safe, reflective atmosphere that encourages students to voice their opinions or thoughts and, in particular, to challenge a paradigm that may have become dominant in the discussion. Not all students are going to become enthralled by art, and some will be bored or unimpressed no matter what a teacher does. I feel most pleased when students challenge an idea I have presented: but I insist that they make a well-reasoned argument based on visual evidence.

These ideas could all be subsumed under a simple heading: I want students to care about what they are looking at: to understand why it matters to all of us, and to think about the ways humanity’s cultural and artistic heritage profoundly shapes our understanding of the world. I would hope that somehow, on even the smallest level, my classroom might be a place in which such an understanding could be nurtured.