Thoughts on Believing

By Michele Deramo
Community and Belonging Specialist, Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning, Virginia Tech

A colleague announced that she has a new practice she is implementing:
​“When students ask, I provide.”

My colleague, Betsy, is a warm and personable professor of practice in music whose teaching includes one-on-one studio work with aspiring musicians.  Betsy derives great satisfaction from her work with students; however, she was troubled when a student failed an important benchmark in the major—in part because the student actively resisted Betsy’s efforts to instruct and advise.
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The student’s path to failure included some revelations about who they were (gender non-binary, neurodivergent, anxious). At first, Betsy wasn’t sure what to make of these revelations, which felt like diversions from the task at hand. But she chose to listen and reflect upon what this information meant for how she engaged this particular student.

Eventually, she made a pedagogical shift: from skepticism to belief.

A variety of acorns on a blue linen surface. Acorns symbolize potential, growth, and resilience. (Photo by Kelly Santana)

The student’s failure opened a pathway to partnership. Together, Betsy and the student collaborated on a plan forward. She incorporated breathing and stress reduction exercises into their weekly studio sessions. She encouraged the student to envision what gave them joy and purpose. She granted them permission to pursue that vision—even if doing so led them to a different field of study. 

Sometimes, believing is difficult. What we are hearing may not align with our own beliefs and experiences. We may have a different interpretive frame for what we are hearing and consequently arrive at different conclusions.  Sometimes, the call to believe requires us to put aside our own biases so that we can really hear the other person. 

A common bias in student-professor interactions is the notion that students will take advantage of us. Cate Denial, who writes about the pedagogy of kindness, acknowledges that a student’s request could be a lie, but she would rather take that risk than make life more difficult for students struggling with grief, illness, or any other life complication. Consequently, her students have not, en masse, started skipping classes, missing deadlines or doubting her expertise. However, those who are struggling have had time to finish their work, maintain their dignity and privacy, and assume control over their learning. 

Believing students is also believing in students. 

What began as a choice to listen to and believe one student now extends across Betsy’s teaching praxis. When a student asks—for more time, for a bit of grace, for help calming down—she provides.
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Her students have risen to receive the gift.

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