Nikola Edelsztejn | The non-hierarchical culture at Dutch universities is quite remarkable
Approachable lecturers – it seems so normal in the Netherlands. Yet compared with universities abroad, the lack of hierarchy is a real breath of fresh air, writes UvA student Nikola Edelsztejn in his first column for Folia. “A lecturer who still wants to have a chat: where else do you find such intellectual and personal curiosity across the border?”
I often speak to international students who talk positively about the UvA, and one argument crops up again and again: lecturers behave like people, not as superior figures.
Few things distinguish Dutch universities from their foreign counterparts as much as the relationship students are able to build with their lecturers – a relationship founded on mutual interest in the subject as well as respect for each other’s positions. What in many countries with a strongly hierarchical academic culture seems like a minor miracle is, within the walls of the UvA campuses, an everyday normality.
At the end of my first year studying law, I had to make a video with a small group explaining a topic about digitalisation in the legal world. It was a typical “just get it done” assignment which, in no way, conveyed to the student what was actually useful about it – a problem that arrises more often in the skills training in the law faculty’s first year.
During the presentation of the video, the lecturer assessing us quickly noticed that I was the only one of the four who seemed a little sceptical about the assignment and the criteria we were expected to meet.
After the presentation, when my groupmates had already left, we talked about it and I was able to explain at length what I thought of the assignment and the course without it ever feeling awkward. On the contrary – she engaged with my criticism and doubts substantively, with empathy and personal interest, and soon we were having a lively conversation about what education could be.
“If you ever want to discuss this – whether you continue with the programme or not – just send me an email!” was how she wrapped up our fifteen-minute chat. You dislike the degree, you thought the course was useless, but she still wants to talk it over with you: where else do you find that kind of intellectual and personal curiosity across the border?
Slang
At secondary school I was often irritated by teachers who tried to prove in every way that they were on the same “character level” as the pupils. The teacher who preferred being addressed by their first name rather than “sir”, who threw in a bit of street slang to show that their school-party supervision was yusu spang, and so on.
That never really appealed to me; give me a teacher who is highly competent, links subjects together and finds a balance between your abilities and your status as a pupil – someone who recognises that you can know and substantiate things but do not yet have the teacher’s expertise.
When I started my law degree, and a year later Italian Studies, I encountered many lecturers who at times seemed to struggle with the standardised teaching code. Yes, the material has to be covered in seven weeks, but they so badly wanted to digress, to go deeper into that question – and yet they couldn’t, because there was simply too much to get through.
Kind and respectful
When you approached such a lecturer after class with a question, comment or criticism, you would soon find yourself twenty minutes further on, having passed through three classrooms and a lift, and before long you would have an invitation to continue the conversation another time. Kind, skilled and respectful, without for a moment forgetting the rungs of the ladder between student and teacher.
After such a conversation, I quickly realise how wonderful it is that this genuine academic curiosity also filters through into personal contact; that it is possible to maintain your authority and position without feeling superior. We don’t need to be colleagues or friends to challenge each other with hearing and counter-hearing. Anyone who tugs a lecturer’s sleeve will find, for the next few minutes, a mini-mentor. No, you rarely encounter that level of tolerance in the hierarchical structures of Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean, where it is still common practice to hand your question to the lecturer on a note after class and bet your savings on whether you’ll ever get an answer.
The UvA may not be perfect, but the fact that you can discuss that with a random lecturer reveals a kind of perfection many institutions can only dream of.
Nikola Edelsztejn is in his first year of the BA in Italian Studies at the UvA.
