My name is Joe, and I am a teacher’s pet.
In high school, I raised my hand in every class. I stayed after school to talk with my English and history teachers about outside readings and always asked my science and math teachers to clarify or work with me during lunch. I sat at the front of every class, always did my homework and studied for weeks for my regents and AP classes. I was voted “Teacher’s Pet” and took the photo for the yearbook by myself, because the other girl who was voted in thought it was insulting. I still visit my favorite teachers, and I even send them some of my college papers for edits or comments.
In college, I am exactly the same. I’m always at least 15 minutes early to every class with detailed notes on the next two week’s readings. I read my professor’s own work and send links to relevant articles and videos relating to what we discuss in class, normally leading to some interesting conversations via email. I spend much of my time in office hours and normally have a five minute conversation after class with the professor. I attend almost every event suggested by my professors, send in drafts of my papers and generally try to be as active in class as possible.
Too many of the people who are reading this article and too many of the people I’ve had classes with, you probably think I’m obnoxious. There’s probably a reason that my freshmen CHEM 131 course nicknamed me “Pre-Med Tryhard.” But I’m not trying to be.
When I have a passion for something, I tend to pursue it in every way that I can. I read, write, listen and try to absorb as much information as possible about a topic I’m interested in. When I interact with professors, I am not trying to impress them. Rather, I am trying to engage with them on the topic in order to gain new perspective. I ask for outside readings not to gain brownie points, but to actually learn more about a genuine question or interest. When I ask for clarification, I’m not trying to get attention, I just want to understand the difference between a covalent and ionic bond.
In fact, some of my biggest problems with social anxiety and self-esteem manifest in the classroom. I am always afraid of my opinions or interpretation being wrong or sounding idiotic, as well as a fear of constant falling behind my peers. Impostor syndrome runs rampant among many universities, and I am one of its many victims. So no, I’m not trying to be pretentious, I’m just trying to critically interpret and give input to classes where part of the grade is class participation.
And you know what? I want to be friends with my instructors. I still consider my high school AP English teacher a mentor, not because of what I learned in his class, but because of our conversations about philosophy, social issues and literature after school or in my papers. I send my Anthropology professor at SU links to documentaries because we have a shared interest in film, and it makes for good conversation. As a future academic, I enjoy talking about my major and life in general with my professors, because they know more about my passions than I do! One of my favorite moments last semester was when a professors told me that a recent criticism of a protest “Didn’t f*cking make any sense,” during their office hours, because it showed me that professors are people too, people that can be great friends.
So yes, I am a teacher’s pet. But so are many more students. While the term is incredibly stigmatized, I embrace the “insult,” and I think more people should, too. In truth, there is probably at least one instructor in your life that has inspired you, and you probably went above and beyond for that person, too. There is nothing wrong with being a friend, putting in extra work or looking for extra help, provided that it is done with good intentions, and not for a few extra credit points. And to those of you who are uncomfortable speaking in class, you can still make great friendships with your educators in office hours, via email or after class. Anyone can be a teacher’s pet — the more the merrier!
In conclusion, I love being a teacher’s pet, and you should, too. After all, who else is going to write that letter of recommendation?
