Do Your Students "Belong"?
How focusing on belonging has shaped my teaching experience
When I was in graduate school, I took a statistics class. The professor’s reputation had “preceded” her, as they say. She was the only professor who taught this particular level, and she had all the grad students “shook.”
At the time, I was a full-time English instructor, an author of several textbooks, a parent of two young children, and an otherwise capable human being who had proven over the last couple of decades that I could achieve.
This course, however, had me doubting myself. It was partly because my classmates had gotten into my head about how hard it was and how uncompromising the professor was. I felt as though she wanted us to fail or she wanted to prove to us that she was superior in her knowledge.
The first night of class (we met online except for occasional opportunities to see her in person) we filled the classroom to get an overview of the course. I don’t remember what we discussed—only a few people asked some questions about the assignments—but I do remember that she said, “If you are not smart enough to know what you are asking when you ask me a question, don’t bother asking it.”
I took from this statement that if we were so confused by the content that we couldn’t even ask a proper question, then she was not going to help us.
I was on my own. And because I didn’t really know anyone else at the beginning of the semester, I felt all alone.
But being the trooper I am, I sallied forth to do the assignments. If anything, the professor was organized and she had built a robust online course. I just didn’t realize I wasn’t really learning anything. I moved from section to section in fear of being “found out” that I didn’t belong in that course.
It wasn’t until I took my first test (8 questions, mind you). I thought I had done “okay, maybe a B,” but I wasn’t prepared for making an F! The grade was a 56% to be exact, which I, at first, erroneously thought was a D.
Although I did persevere after finding a willing classmate who helped me through the content, I ended the class grateful to pass, but completely unsure of my abilities. It wasn’t until I hired a tutor to help me prepare for my comprehensive exams that I realized I had actually wasn’t as incompetent as the course—and the professor—made me feel. It took someone presenting the same content in a way that made me feel supported to realize that I could do statistics.
I often think about that time when I am working with new students. While the professor had no way of knowing that I felt like an imposter in her course (partly because of her reputation, partly because my background was language, writing, and literature, not math, probability, and significance testing), I think now that she could have approached the course a little differently and had better results—or at least had students who felt comfortable asking questions.
I strive to do the same for my students now—to make them feel as though they belong in my class, they belong in college, and they can do this work even if they need some support. I admit I wasn’t always focused on creating this kind of community (more on that in another post), but I have learned from my own experiences that sometimes very capable students in a new, challenging environment just need to know you care.
Here are some things I do to help students feel as though they belong:
Provide a student survey. I ask students at the beginning of the semester questions or prompts about themselves including “Tell me about a time you were excited to learn something” and “How did you get through a challenging learning experience?” My favorite question that elicits helpful information is “Tell me something I need to know that would help me support you.” I often get statements such as “I am a slow learner, but be patient with me” or “I am really shy, but I do want to get better at talking in class.”
Select readings and examples that mirror your students’ demographics. This may be difficult in some disciplines to choose readings that reflect who your students are, but you can create student scenarios of common issues that your students may face and be mindful to include common details. For example, I may create a scenario about a student who is struggling to pay for books at the beginning of the semester and we talk through what that student can do to get their course resources.
Require student conferences. This can be difficult if you have a large number of students, but you could try it out in certain sections or for certain students (e.g., those who struggled on the first test). Of all the strategies I have used to help build rapport with students, this is hands down the most exhausting and most rewarding. It allows me to provide words of encouragement and to identify what issues they may have.
Find ways to praise progress. This can be a quick note on an assignment or a brief statement after class. Show that you are paying attention and that you see the hard work. This is especially important to do with students who often fly under the radar—those who are quiet and may not quite be meeting the course expectations, but are showing effort. If a student makes a marked improvement, asking “What did you do this time that made a difference?” can help students reflect on their strategies.
I think if my professor had done any of these ideas, I would have had a different, much richer experience even if my grade would not have been better. I would have felt like someone who has the ability to improve and get better rather that someone who would hide their ignorance in hopes of not being “found out.” And I would have had less stress during a time when I truly needed it.

