History is an important discipline because it teaches people about past events, and their consequences; because it teaches people about other cultures, and how to approach and value them; and because it teaches people information, and how to use it. I was attracted to it as a student for all of these reasons. As a professor, I am privileged to pass on that enthusiasm to other generations. Important as it is, however, history is not an easy subject. The most difficult aspects of learning history are the interpretive requirements-people assume that the classes are just about "known facts" and so they expect to leave the facts where they fall, rather than do anything with them. History requires people to think of things from unfamiliar perspectives, which can be extremely difficult for some. European and World History classes thus can help prevent insularity in many forms, because the US is full of immigrants from other cultures, and because students who plan careers in journalism, teaching, law, business, politics, administration, tourism, and a host of other paths need to know about other cultures in order to serve them better. As a general rule, students do see history as an interdisciplinary subject; my students have often commented on the connections between what we are currently discussing or have discussed and their world literature, sociology, or other liberal arts classes.
I became a graduate student in history because of good teaching; I wanted to become that kind of teacher myself. Teaching is the single most important motivating factor in learning, and expertise, talent, enthusiasm, and honesty combine to make for a good teacher. An education does not depend on having the greatest expert in the field, but on communication between faculty and students, among faculty colleagues, and among students-and the latter is part of the responsibility of the faculty member. Thus, I do these specific things: (1) I either hold office hours on days I do not teach, or in both the morning and afternoon, to accommodate students' schedules. (2) I promptly return messages. (3) I give exam and reading study sheets in survey classes, and dedicate portions of upper-level class time to review and connections. (4) I ask students for feedback on readings during the semester and base future choices on that feedback. (5) I devote a great deal of time to students who are struggling, offering them my full attention during office hours or special appointments to evaluate note-taking, review exams, and give pointers on coming exams. Shy students blossom in this situation of increased attention, and turn into more confident participants into the class. Although those I see are motivated students, they are not necessarily the best, just the most aware; and as a result, they are the most rewarding to teach. In survey classes, the typical student is satisfied with her grade (whether it be an A or a D) or else drops the class; the atypical student reaches out for help, and cooperates with the faculty member in that help to become a better student and a better person. (6) I strive to make syllabi, handouts, and assignments as clear as possible. (7) When I make mistakes in classes, I acknowledge the mistake (with, I hope, humor as well as honesty). Students must trust me to respect their intelligence and to provide them with the opportunities to show it-and no one would trust someone who could not admit making a mistake. (8) I continue to research my field with energy and enthusiasm. Doing so not only keeps me sharp and current in my upper-division and graduate classes, but also teaches me how to communicate research methods and cutting-edge interpretations to students. (9) By engaging in service, I learn the curriculum better, benefit from the experience and expertise of colleagues, and develop more varied mentoring relationships with students. As with research, the connections between service and teaching are integral. (10) I try to keep track of current events and trends; while I recognize that "adults" are hopelessly non-trendy, I also know that a few well-placed references to contemporary musicians, sports figures, actors, movies, and Harry Potter books really do raise the professor in the esteem of the students. One of the things I discovered rather quickly, and a phrase which I probably repeat too often, is that nothing ages a person faster than teaching. The students are on average the same age, and so it is easy to forget the cultural markers; humor, like disciplinary knowledge, has to be updated.
Although one can find constants in history teaching, the best ways to learn history vary from survey courses to upper-level courses. Survey courses are designed not simply to present students with a series of facts, but also to teach skills. Among these are the ability to filter information, i.e. to learn how to take notes, how to study for exams, etc.-in general, to learn what is important in class. In addition, history classes teach interpretation. No historian I know says "the facts speak for themselves"- instead, we all push our students to take a given event, document, or artifact and understand its meaning in context. Techniques do vary from course to course. Many students have been trained as visual learners and therefore benefit greatly from projected images, outlines, maps, charts, etc.; lecturing from a PowerPoint-type outline works well in survey classes because it is quite flexible. I combine it with readings of primary or secondary sources specific to regions and topics covered in the class, with the explicit design of exposing students to literature of other cultures. Each meeting in my survey classes (HIST 1111 and 1112) begins with a thesis statement for the lecture or a series of pre-announced questions for discussion. In this way, I not only provide students with an organizing principle, but I model for them the way to write a thesis, to break down an outline, etc. While I do not assign papers to core classes, I do give written assignments: essay exams and optional written answers to questions about mandatory reading. I require brief papers for the course required for history and social science education majors (World Civilization to 1500): three to five pages on both history and its teaching; I have given assignments, for example, related to historical websites, historical movies, and history in the news media; and comparative/contextual assignments, including "the world in XXXX." I provide explicit information on how I grade and specific examples of what constitutes good contributions to class discussion. Given that a large percentage of my survey class grades is devoted to discussion, I work hard to provide an open, collegial, and sensitive atmosphere for all students, including learning as many names as possible. I have often offered help for shy students, for example, and have also on occasion asked the more vocal students to be less eager to answer to allow for others to engage. Both techniques pay off very well.
Upper-level students, who have more experience and interest in the subject matter, benefit from a variety of approaches- lecture (with visual aids and without), intensive discussion, and brainstorming are my most frequent techniques. I also approach testing of learning differently in upper-division courses, which are more writing-intensive. Over the years, I have used take-home midterms, with varying degrees of success; I have determined that they serve an important purpose but are not substitutes for the other kinds of writing assignments I prefer, namely historiographical and research papers. I also use open-book and closed-book essay exams in these courses.
I notice several important differences between teaching undergraduate majors and graduate students. The most obvious one is experience: graduate students are much more likely to expect hard work than undergraduates, and are often more equipped to do this hard work. The second is interest: graduate students are driven in different ways, and have clearer ideas of "what to do with a history degree," that perennial question. The third is flexibility: graduate students are more easily adaptable to subjects not in their field and to the vagaries of historical research. Pedagogical issues are different, and with graduate students I have the luxury of indulging in methodological questions which are not relevant to or suitable for undergraduates. Therefore, I focus as much on style and interpretative sharpness as on subject matter, and I work more intensely on the development of topic and technique than with undergraduates, who typically have less time to devote to one class. Having said all of this, I should note that I greatly enjoy teaching both undergraduates and graduates. The experiences are different, but equally satisfying.

In all classes, whether large or small; graduate, undergraduate, or mixed; classroom management is an issue. I find that it is the personality of the students, not the size of the classroom, that matters most here. Consequently, I have the same policy in all my classes: I expect students to act as if they were at work. In essence, "if you are here, be here; if you do not want to be here, but have other things to do, do not come." I do not tolerate talking, use of electronic devices, lateness, or other disruptive behaviors; I do not allow other homework; I do not allow napping. Although some students complain about the rules, the benefits are clear. My students can concentrate in a quiet environment conducive to learning.

In the fourteen years I have been teaching, I have been employed at five very different institutions: as a graduate assistant at a state flagship university; an assistant professor at three small private colleges; and an assistant and associate professor at Georgia Southern University. I have the experience of large and small classes, seminars and lectures, team-teaching and individual responsibility for courses, surveys of several kinds and a large number of upper-division courses. Over the years I have learned a great deal about communicating information to students-and most of them respond quite positively to personal contact, encouragement, respect, and challenges. Those that do not are quite up-front about their boredom with required courses. Both sets of students teach a thinking professor about teaching. For example, the majority of students are only as excited as I am about a subject, and so if I am feeling particularly tired one day, it will not matter what I am teaching if I am unable to get my energy level up-they will be tired too. If I am, on the other hand, very excited about something, students will respond accordingly. When I am most energetic, they take the most notes.

I expect several specific outcomes to my teaching: a level of knowledge; an increase in confidence in using that knowledge; and most importantly, certain skills: interpretation, evaluation of information in context, expression of that evaluation, and ability to understand cause and effect. I know when I have taught successfully in different ways. One of the most obvious forms of "feedback" is watching my students improve at taking notes throughout the semester. In the beginning, they do not know how to determine what is most important in what I am saying, and so all take notes at different rates; by the middle of the semester, they have learned my verbal, written, and visual cues and are able to take notes at the most important points. Another form is the questions they ask; as the semester progresses, the questions are increasingly sophisticated. In part this is because in surveys the material becomes more "familiar" as the course progresses through the 19th and 20th centuries; in part, it is because they learn that I encourage questions in all classes; in part, it is because they have learned the questioning and evaluating method I have been teaching. A third form is the improvement, often dramatic, that students note in their grades when I teach them how to study and take notes when they come for help. A fourth form is the written evaluation. This is a flawed process, as it depends on attendance on a given day and the energy of the students in writing, not just in filling in bubbles to answer the questions; however, I take what feedback I do get seriously and have used it to improve my teaching.

In sum, the qualities of a good teacher are those I have observed in my most successful colleagues: humor, flexibility, dedication, approachability, and fairness. Teaching, like learning, is a life-long process of adaptation, listening, thinking, questioning, and appreciating. We do best as history professors when we realize, and communicate to our students, the practical nature of our subject. All too often I have fallen into the trap of assuming that the enjoyable is intrinsically valuable; most students do not see this and it behooves the historian to emphasize instead the everyday importance of the study of the past and of human behavior. Rather than focus on history as preparation for graduate school, teaching, or law school, therefore, we must work to ensure that our students see the wide applicability of history degrees.