Yes, I agree. The factors are both difficult to measure, difficult to replicate, and difficult to pass on to other teachers. That’s not to say teaching cannot be learned, or that we cannot improve as teachers over time, but there does seem to be something deeply emotional about it.

Now, I’m not sure a faked smile isn’t really a real smile. It’s a thin line, I think. Yes, customer service people are required to convey joy when they may just be thinking about how much their feet hurt. But as someone who has done time in customer service, I fully recognize that the faked smile often becomes real. And this idea is backed up by the science. I don’t think there is any explicit requirement that I smile when I teach–and I think I would quit the minute there was. There may be an implicit requirement, as measured by student evaluations, that I am friendly and well-dressed. But I think the reason I smile is because I want my students to learn, and I know that by getting them into a good mood they will learn more.

I will note that my best classes (not necessarily courses, but individual classes) are invariably those for which I feel unprepared. By coming in on shaky ground, I usually translate nervous energy into more energy generally, and students react well to that. That would suggest I should spend less time on class prep (something my last chair at an R1 impressed on my many times), but it is also the case that some of my worst classes were ones I was ill prepared for. A bit of a U-shaped curve, I’m afraid.

It makes me think of the emotional labor required of the teaching profession. There’s a lot of literature on emotional labor in customer service, where people are required to smile when they don’t feel like it. But what about teachers? Smiling doesn’t seem to be enough, you have to LIVE that mood for the entire thing to work well. Now, that’s emotional labor!