From chasing away monkeys to preparing a comprehensive yet accessible Spider Graph, Preeti Aghalayam writes on the multiple hats a professor at IIT-M wears — whether by choice or chance
Preeti Aghalayam
It’s
7.50am.
Cars
outside
IIT-M’s
main
gate
stretch
back all
the way
up to
Madhya
Kailash.
Horns
blare
their
impatience,
and the
frustration
of a
Monday
morning
commute
hangs
heavy.
As I
enter
the
campus,
a sense
of calm
descends
almost
immediately.
The
tree-lined
avenues
ahead
are
welcoming,
cocooning
even. A
couple
of
kilometres
of
driving
and a
song on
my lips,
puts me
smack-bang
in the
academic
zone.
With earphones plugged in, a motley group of students walk; some pedal their way on cycles, unmindful of the traffic. There is an unwritten rule on the campus: deer and monkeys; pedestrians and cyclists; and professors and staff are given decreasing order of importance. I slow down, catch my breath and inch forward, trying to avoid a particularly belligerent cyclist who swerves in front of me. I have finally made it! Just a minute or two before 8am.
As I walk up to the Classroom Complex (CRC) building, I notice the massive banyan tree, whose arms have spread everywhere. How old must this beautiful piece of Nature be, I wonder, as I power walk my way through a chatty bunch of students to the classroom. This term we are in a new place, a fully-equipped hybrid teaching-learning studio, thanks to NPTEL (National Platform for Technology Enabled Learning), a massive online learning initiative by the IITs and IISc.
The
studio —
with its
plush-green
seats,
bright
maroon
curtains,
and a
full-fledged
audio-video
set-up —
is
colourful
and has
the
right
vibe for
a modern
classroom.
Pretty
soon,
I’m
letting
the
students
in — on
a giant
screen.
Yes,
this is
a hybrid
classroom
with
20-plus
students
on
campus
with us,
sitting
in those
plush-green
seats,
and a
handful
logging
in
remotely
from
Kathmandu,
Nepal.
“There are monkeys in the stairwell,” says Bikram*, his eyebrows raised in wonder and a bit of fear, perhaps. I notice several students behind him; they all laugh in one voice. Meanwhile, I pick up a handy stick hiding amidst the AV equipment and go chase the monkeys away, and escort the rest of the class in. The things we end up doing as professors, I tell you!
Scenes from a classroom
“Well, let us start the class at least as per Indian Standard Time,” I joke. Time and again, we have grown used to all the excuses students come up with when they are late to class. It is not like we have it easy either: traffic was maddening, parking was hard to find, I had no time for breakfast, and then the dappled sunshine through the trees looked so particularly beautiful today I ended up admiring the view for a bit…the list goes on. But yes, eight in the morning is objectively early at any rate. I will give them that.
The class starts with a poll; there are titters as I explain how to access the poll. I stop mid-sentence realising that those born in the smartphone generation don’t necessarily need an explanation on QR codes. “The most important research skill is the ability to observe your surroundings,” I tell them. But before I can finish, they have finished with the poll — and the responses are a good mix of reflection and humour. It makes my heart warm with hope.
Today’s class is about making plots and graphs to visualise scientific data. I show them some of the “bad examples”; and ask them to be critical. The students have at least 10 things to complain about: some are important, and some are nit-picky. I walk around the classroom, before asking them to sketch an improved version.
Meanwhile, Dipti* unmutes her mic and calls for my attention. She holds up her version of the (improved) graph in front of the camera. We all love it. The class continues with a few more examples — the Spider Graph, which many students had not seen before, is a hit.
We have our many arguments and, as one would expect from a class with such diversity — female students constitute 20%, while 40% are from Africa, two students are from Bangladesh, and of course we have a group joining from Nepal — the discussion is rich. When you are in such a vibrant classroom, time progresses swiftly. We were all exhausted at the end of the hour, though I enjoyed every minute with them. And if the smiles of the students as they troop out are anything to go by, so have they.
As I walk out of the classroom, I emerge into Chennai’s sunshine and make my way over to the canteen for a cup of strong South Indian filter coffee. My mind buzzes with the thought of data, graphs and Slido polls. I check my watch, it’s only 9am.
*The names of students were changed. To know more about NPTEL, visit: https://nptel.ac.in/
