As my semester begins, I interrupt my China diary once again with something that, for a variety of reasons I won't mention, just came to me as I walked the dark streets, seeing clearly in the dark with my glasses-less 20/20 vision.	

	Medical institutions house expensive technology and scores of trained medical professionals for the purpose of providing medical healing the sick and injured.  I've been in too many hospitals as both patient and visitor that were anything but hospitable.  Cold indifference, chilly decor, insensitive attitude, smileless matter-of-fact behavior, professional aloofness, even a bothered sneer or glare, were unfortunately more common than warm consideration, compassion, and sympathy.  Ignoring or belittling patient or family stress, worry, nervousness, fear, and uncertainty, sends the message "we treat diseases and injuries, not people."  Too many hospital personnel, who exercised such a professional haughtiness of the expert, do not understand that they're in the people business.

	Yet, two weeks ago, I spent three days going in and out of a Tallahassee medical unit getting eye lens transplants.  It was a "wow" experience!  Not just for the great technological medical treatment I received, but, more importantly, for the great people treatment I received.  I was an apprehensive camper until I passed through the office entrance doors to be greeted with a free coffee bar and a soothing decor, as well as reassuring assurances and support that quickly quelled my nerves.  The people in the doctor's office and the outpatient surgical hospital were hospitable, acting as warm people rather than cold professionals.  All they consciously said and did was marked by a sincere welcoming, embracing, and generous cordiality that created a pleasant, comfortable, and comforting environment.  Cold demeanor, straight faces, and uncaring "we're doing you a favor" behavior that I had experienced in other hospitals had no place.  They had been replaced totally by considerable smiling, consideration, empathy, compassion, and sympathy.  Everyone quietly listened with resounding respect.  Everyone patiently and respectfully answered our questions with deep understanding.  Everyone honored our anxiety.  No one was too busy or too bored or too preoccupied for me or Susan.  They never gave us a hint that both our physical and emotional needs were irrelevant or annoying or interfering distractions to them.  Understanding that they were in the people business, they cared about and caringly treated the people they were caring for. 

	Now, institutions of higher education house expensive technology and scores of trained academic professionals for the purpose of providing educational care for the yet do be informed, skilled, and transformed. Too often folks in providing this educational care, blaring meaningless mission statements to the contrary, seem so uncaring, so busy, so bored, or so preoccupied with their needs that the critical emotional and social needs of students are treated as irrelevant or annoying or interfering distractions.   All but the most assertive students are intimidated into smileless, passive, fearful, and stifling "what do you want" obedience and compliance by the Damocles swords of tests, grades, and GPAs hanging over them.  The resounding message too often offered in word, facial expression, body language is either "I'm too busy with my scholarship and pursuit of tenure and promotion to bother with you" or "It's not my job to hold your hand or help you deal with your problems" or "Stay out of the way; it's my job to deal with information transmission and skill development, not with people."  And, then, we wonder why students are surprised when they encounter a professor who really notices them, respects them, honors their pains, and tends to them as human beings.  And, we wonder why there is no traffic jam on that "extra mile." 

	Last week, as the University geared up for the beginning of classes, I experienced this juxtaposition of concern and care.  One conversation involved the most persistent and self-centered question in academia: "What do I have to do to get tenure?"  In the other conversation with Kim Tanner, the head of the University's Access Office, the most persistent and urgent was, as it should be throughout the campus, not to mention in all of life: "What do I have to do to serve others?”  I know, in an academic world increasingly dominated by unapologetic selfishness and fearful quest for job survival, recently described as that recession-proof "guarantee of a job-for-life" called tenure, this idea may seem quaint and outdated. Yet, after brain storming with Kim about how to make adjustments for a blind student who is going to be in my heavily visual-oriented Holocaust class, and getting hit by a exciting and solving "wow" bolt of lightning, I can attest that when we believe, as does Kim--and as do I--there is no greater joy than working for others and serving others rather than just being there for ourselves, the classroom becomes a sacred place of celebration.  For those who have a grand vision of their purpose and value and significance, striving to be of service, to make a difference in someone's life, teaching is not only a noble thing to do, it’s the best way to lead a truly fulfilling and significant life.	

	I know it's tough to continuously deal with the anguish and demands of inexperienced and self-centered students who think their needs, concerns, issues, and problems are the most important things in the world.  I know that the pristine atmosphere of within the Ivory Tower is being polluted by an uneducational assessment obsession.  I also know that it's takes an inner herculean strength because most of our institutions of higher learning are two mouthed.  Out of one side they so blithely write such flourishing words and so easily mouth the proverbial talk about their emphasis on time and energy consuming teaching, on creating supportive and encouraging programs that serve students, on developing creativity and inventiveness and individual initiative, and on helping to transform students into proverbial "life long learners."  On the other side of their mouth, however, they do the proverbial walk, a pounding walk, about their emphasis on demanding time and energy consuming grant getting and research and publication needed for tenure and promotion while further uncaringly stripping students of their individuality by throwing them as a herd of nameless and faceless cattle into corrals of super and super-duper sections.  

	I have found, however, an irony in these positions.  Students are far less likely to be lethargic, indifferent, antagonistic, and/or exploitively litigious towards a person who doesn't just mouth "I care," but who acts caringly; who they feel has notices, hears, and cares about them; who respectfully treats them as the sacred and unique persons they are.  So, I think loving, decent, compassionate, kind, and respectful is not only the right thing to be and do, but the smart thing to do.  

	The bottom line is that in hospitals there is no loss of effectiveness by being interested in making people feel better as in making patients get better.  So, too, in classrooms and on campuses there is no loss of effectiveness by being interested in making people feel better as in making students get better educated.  To the contrary, for just as patients will tend to heal faster and better when they feel better, so students will tend to learn faster and better when they feel better.  

	I wonder what it would take to make that a norm both in our medical and educational institution.

Make it a good day
	

-Louis-


Louis Schmier                         		http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org       
Department of History                        http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Valdosta State University 
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