David
Fox concedes that good teaching and fine acting share a few characteristics,
but he draws a careful distinction between the two professions.
"You need to know your lines, project your voice, and have a presence," says
Fox, assistant professor of geology and geophysics. "I think teaching is similar
to acting, but I don't think good teaching is acting! Being passionate about
the subject—and being myself with the students—are important components
of teaching to me."
Fox should know. Long before he became a distinguished paleontologist with a high-octane lecture style, he was an amateur thespian. "In high school I acted in plays like Charley's
Aunt and The Lark," he says. "In most of [my roles] I couldn't wear my glasses, so I couldn't see the audience. Maybe that was an advantage."
Nowadays, Fox can be found performing—glasses firmly in place—for a different
sort of audience. Unlike academics who feel most comfortable behind a lectern,
Fox prowls the aisles during his geology lectures, exuding vitality and an
enthusiasm that blurs the distinction between teacher and student.
And that's very much by design. "I want to abolish the social hierarchy between me as professor and the students," says Fox, who earned a Ph.D. from the University of Michigan in 1999. "I may know more about the [subject], but I try to treat [the students] as equals in the sense that we're all working together in the course."
To demystify complex topics, Fox relies on his lively sense of humor and knack for creative analogies. He says, "I try to bring unfamiliar concepts to the level of familiarity."
Recently, at the height of mutual political suspicion between America and some of its erstwhile European allies, Fox was lecturing about plate tectonics and continental drift. He pointed out that according to one theory, "the U.S. and Europe are growing further apart." He paused and added impishly, "You could say that statement is true in more ways than one."
He's not above tossing in a pop culture reference—quoting the line "We are
stardust" from Joni Mitchell's "Woodstock"—during a discussion about
the origins of the universe. He uses a simple but effective comparison to help
his students understand isostasy, a fundamental principle of geophysics that
explains why postglacial landforms like Hudson Bay are actually growing more
shallow.
Picture yourself sitting in a floating inflatable lounge chair in the middle of a swimming pool on a summer afternoon, he tells them. "When you hop out of the chair, it rides higher in the water," he explains, adding that the same process makes the continental lithosphere rise when the weight of a glacial mass is removed through erosion.
As a young academic, Fox dedicated himself to learning the craft of teaching. "I spent a lot of energy and effort developing new courses. It was a conscious decision, but we learn to keep all the balls in the air."
Besides, good teaching creates its own rewards, he believes. "You know when you've 'got' them, and that feels good."
