Responding to "Student-Athletes" in the Classroom--Professor Expectations and Attitudes

Student-Athlete. Simply looking at the hyphenated description of this role leads us to a place of dual assignment. Student or athlete? Truthfully, I believe there should be an “and” between those two terms, rather than punctuation. But does one trump the other in the eyes of educators? What is your initial reaction to hearing of these individuals in your classroom? In my experience, I have hesitated to bring this to the fore-front with professors (as an undergraduate). What would they think of me? Would they want to know what sport I played, what position, or how we were doing this year? Would they ask about my interest in the class, or what major I had yet to choose? Basically, would I be embraced or shunned? It seemed as though I had very dualistic expectations from professors at Minnesota State University, especially those in the psychology department. What kind of DII college athlete could possibly move on to be successful in the field of mental health, after all?

Interestingly, through my career playing for the Dragons, I had mixed experiences with professors. On both ends of the spectrum, I’ll state two examples (again, here I go thinking dualistically!).

Dr. C. was a quote-unquote “hard-ass” in the psychology department. She was originally from Greece, carried a thick accent, and a “be ready to work” attitude that radiated from her appearance through her syllabi. Dr. C. was a statistical genius, instructed both of my stats courses early on, and happened to have an 8:30 a.m. specialty class in Psychology of Language the fall of my senior year. With my lifting, individual practice, team practice, and fall-ball game schedules already set in stone for the year, this class fit in well for coursework. Did I forget to mention, my team practices were held from 5:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. Monday through Friday in the winter? You may already see where this is going. Due to Dr. C’s demanding presence and obvious expectations, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that on my first morning of class, only one other student decided to also take this “elective.” So there we were-- me, one other female psychology student, and Dr. C. from 8:30 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. every Tuesday/Thursday morning for the next fifteen weeks. The course was interesting, I will never deny that. However, I guess my 20-year old body and mind could only maintain for so long in “concentration-mode.” Let’s skip the rest of the details and get to the point of this paragraph. I don’t think I will every forget the utter horror and overwhelming embarrassment of coming to class, sitting down, listening to the beginning of a lecture, pencil in hand…and suddenly, I look at the clock—it’s 9:40 a.m… I had been asleep for the past 20-30 minutes, easily. Holy s***. Dr. C. is going to kick me out of this class, fail me, or at least tell my advisor or coach…I mean, she has to right? Let’s forget asking myself if she had noticed…there were three people in the room! To my amazement, ten more minutes passed, the other lone student left the room, and Dr. C. looked at my terrified face and said, “Tough practice this morning?” Although it was, I couldn’t help but repetitively apologize, offer to make it up to her, and of course promise it wouldn’t happen again. Dr. C. told me not to worry about it. She said she understood my demanding schedule and time commitments, and that she couldn’t do what I do everyday. She handed me a hard copy of the Power Points I had “missed” that day, and told me to hang in there. Dr. C. had never been an athlete, and she was the last person I expected to empathize with me. I never fell asleep or even felt drowsy in that class again.

This brings us to the other side, with Dr. T. Psychology of Women, Tuesday and Thursdays from 2:30 to 4:00 p.m. the spring of my senior year—prime game time for a softball player in Minnesota (due to weather, 62+ games were shoved into a 6 week stint). Yes, I should have not taken this course at this time. Looking back at the decision, maybe my arrogance as a successful athlete eroded into an area where it wasn’t welcome. It was my last semester, I was in the psychology honors club, I was an all-conference athlete, how could Dr. T not understand if I had to miss a few days, right? Wrong. Very wrong. Dr. T. was originally from Indiana, described herself as a “feminist for the ages” and a headstrong activist for GLBT voices on campus. She wore a nose-ring hoop, dressed in a manner that quietly (maybe not so quietly) stated “I will not be held down by dress codes,” and I’m pretty sure when she held class, everyone on that level of the building could hear what we were talking about that day. I had given Dr. T. my game schedule along with travel times early in the semester, as I did with all my professors. She didn’t seem to have any problems with my student-athlete identity then, I was optimistic. Let’s bring us to ground zero—a take home, written test…essay format…she assigned 8 questions, we wrote an essay on each question, and turned in the entire paper one week later. There were no dates on the syllabus, Dr. T. preferred to keep this an open discussion. A discussion I had missed. I was gone an entire week (games both Tuesday/Thursday), and returned on class the following Tuesday to find that everyone was turning in a hefty stack of stapled paper. Everyone accept for me. I approached Dr. T. after class to explain that I hadn’t even received the assigned questions, let alone began my work. Her response was very much limited to a couple of “too bad’s” and how I need to be “accountable to my education as an adult.” I'm pretty sure she did state verbatim, "Last time I checked, you were a student first." Slight pity must have entered Dr. T’s awareness after this…maybe she noticed I stopped breathing. “Ok, young lady. You have until 8 a.m. tomorrow morning. Email me your essays.” Thank you so much! I mean, crap! Ok, it’s now 4:05…I’m already late for practice on these days, but practice until 5:30, I don’t have to work tonight, ok…I can do this. To wrap up how my evening went, I emailed Dr. T. at 4:30 a.m., submitted five of the eight essays I was able to complete, and asked if I could submit the rest by the next afternoon. Exhausted, I slept for a few hours. Around 9, I checked my inbox. A response from Dr. T...my heart dropped to the floor. Due to the incomplete nature of my assignment, she would not be considering any of the work I had submitted for credit. Oh no. No. I was a senior…I was graduating in just over a month…this was one of two exams that I now was getting zero credit for. Could I even pass the class? No, I couldn’t. That means no graduation. What the hell do I do now!? I’ll leave it be to your imagination how I handled this situation, but we will say that it ended with an official meeting between myself, my coach, Dr. T, and the Dean of the Behavioral and Social Sciences Department. Apparently, that little sheet of paper I gave her at the beginning of the semester was my “excused absence” statement from the University. I was allotted one week from my notification of the assignment to complete the essays, I finished the course, and I’m pretty sure that’s the hardest “A” Dr. T. ever had to enter into a gradebook.

Taking these two long-winded explanations of two of my experiences under consideration, I do see that I was treated differently than any other student (with no hyphen) on campus. I can't deny that at all. I was given exceptional treatment, and also was held accountable to standards that were impossible for me to meet. Of course there were professors within the gray area (some just rolled their eyes, some didn’t care, etc.), but this got me thinking about the perceptions of the student-athlete on campus, mainly by professors. Looking through The Chronicle of Higher Education, I came across an article that discussed these notions, and also included racial prejudices and stereotypes when paired with presenting student athletes; “Black Athletes and White Professors: A Twighlight Zone of Uncertainty.” Here, the author (a Caucasian professor at Louisiana State University) wrote of his experiences with a young African American student-athlete in his English class. He describes “not expecting much” from this group that sat in the back of his class, and was shocked and intrigued by the student who wrote exceptionally well. This student was approached to discuss her work, and the student automatically felt the need to defend herself against suggested acts of plagiarism. Through a humbling experience, this professor went on to identify five behaviors/attitudes that may keep student-athletes at a distance, especially African American students in this case.

Overlooking—“they are just here to play sports, not to learn”

Lowered Expectations—“they don’t have anything meaningful to contribute.”

Cutting Off—professors may cut student-athlete comments short by looking away, looking at the time, or refraining from additional discussion on the comments

Intensified Scrutiny—looking for flaws in an athlete’s work

Negative Comments—“they think they can do what they want,” “this university is spending too much on sports as it is”

Obviously, not all professors are guilty of this discrimination, but it is noticeably talked about and experienced. It was by me. I played for a DII institution of limited merit in the region. What are the experiences of DI athletes? DIII? Are some of these opinions attributed to direct experience or by stereotypes alone? There is a much larger scope of interest here worth commentary. All I can say for sure is that being a student-athlete was an incredible experience for me. It shaped my identity as a person and a professional. I wore my jerseys with immense pride. I worked hard for my University on the field, and just as much in the classroom. I hope by sharing my experiences and reflecting on experiences of others, we can broaden the discussion of stereotypes in higher education regarding student-athletes.

Kylie #14 ;)