Embry-Riddle Faculty in Their Own Words

Jamie Beatty, associate professor of humanities and communication, teaches speech, cross-cultural communication, communication and society, drama, and composition at the Prescott campus.

In San Francisco, I was teaching English as a second language to newly arrived immigrants from Viet Nam, Burma, Taiwan, and Hong Kong. One day I had the brilliant idea to have my writing class make paper airplanes and then write the instructions for others to follow in making the planes. I carefully gave my instructions, my students nodded and smiled, and I turned back to the chalkboard to write their homework assignment. A couple of minutes later, I faced a roomful of folded paper planes, yes, but also birds, tables, boats, balls, lanterns, chairs, and toys. For a moment I was embarrassed that my assignment had so clearly exposed me in a total lapse of cultural awareness of my students. With much respect, they each presented me with their gifts of beautiful origami. All I could do was accept their offerings, thank them, and dismiss class early!

I believe in making and sharing knowledge. I enjoy being part of the changes that happen in lives through learning. I am nourished by the dialogue in the classroom and fascinated by the ideas, thoughts, and connections that unfold.

That magical moment when a class is so in tune and on task that the world stands still - it's spiritual, it's fun, it's play. It's change happening before your very eyes.

Some people operate under the unrealistic expectation that a good, correct, and proper English usage exists which should be protected at all costs from the careless, stupid, or uneducated hordes that want to ruin it. But language is always in process, and children and others who create new words and structures to express innovations always bring change, which must face resistance to survive and become part of the language.

Most Embry-Riddle students seem more focused on their goals earlier than other students I have taught. They specialize early, as evidenced by their selection of Embry-Riddle and their desire to be involved in special offerings such as Global Security and Intelligence Studies, Space Physics, and Communication.

As we write and live, we discover what we do and do not know. Writing helps us look at our subject with discernment and engage it with reason, heart, and spirit, to weigh choices, consider options, and make connections and transitions. We must make commitments and clear, persuasive arguments to ourselves and to others. In both writing and life, we must let go and receive criticism, feedback, results, rewards, disappointments, and use it all as material for the next draft, chapter, or joke!

With a grant for $500,000, I'd buy blocks of uninterrupted time to write the poetry and stories that hover just below my skin and at the edges of my mind, waiting their turn.

James Libbey, professor of social science, teaches American aviation history, Russian-American relations, and American foreign policy at the Daytona Beach campus.

Many people equate history with rummaging around the past, collecting dusty, boring facts that are irrelevant to the "real world" of today. Those of us who teach history know better. History is the memory of group experience. Without history we would live in caves and trees, suffering collective amnesia and facing the impossible task each generation of reinventing technologies and ideas that give meaning and comfort to our lives. History is the discipline that brings the future to life.

When students ask why they need to learn history, I remind them that Cicero, Roman orator and statesman of first century B.C., said, "To be ignorant of what happened before you were born is to be ever a child." Fortunately, most of my students want to be adults.

The engine that drives history is the relationship between cause and effect. When this is misunderstood or not understood, we are susceptible to making poor judgments and decisions. The events of 9/11, for example, were both a horrible tragedy and an incomprehensible attack to many Americans. They simply lacked knowledge about the relationship between the presence and policy of the U.S. in the Middle East and its consequence of strengthening anti-American sentiment among radicals who planned a deadly response. Americans must not only remain alert but also be knowledgeable to the extent that they can appreciate the potential "effects" of the past on our current lives.

I'm the product of several generations of teachers and jokingly argue that it is part of my genetic makeup. Even when I am not standing in front of a class, I have this tendency (not always appreciated!) to continue teaching.

One of my professors had lost a leg to cancer and taught sitting down. Remarkably, he conducted his classes without notes and held our attention by drawing us into his conversation on the topic of the day. A second professor taught Russian history and embodied many characteristics of Ivan the Terrible. Students could not take notes - indeed, he threw chalk at anyone who would dare lift a pen during class. Nevertheless, he enthralled us by building his classes around primary sources. Today, the centerpiece of my classes is the memoirs, diaries, letters, and government documents that are the stuff of history. Moreover, I try to engage my students' attention and interest by avoiding notes and conversing with them rather than lecturing to them.

Embry-Riddle students are unique. At other institutions where I've taught, up to 40 percent of the entering freshmen are undecided about their careers. At Riddle, students almost always know what they want to do and have a passion for their fields of study.

The late Paul Braim and I had frequent discussions about establishing a place on campus where seminars, speakers, and materials could be made available to help students and faculty better understand our culture and heritage, as well as the subjective side of the human condition. If I had a $500,000 grant, I'd use it to create the Paul Braim Humanities Center. (Braim had been a professor of history at Embry-Riddle.)

Bruce Rothwell, associate dean of the Extended Campus's south central region, teaches logistics, labor relations, and research design and statistics.

Extended Campus students will eat your lunch if you show up unprepared to teach. They're in class because they want to learn. These men and women are giving up time with their families because they know an education will help them in their careers. When they come to class you can't waste their time. You have to be prepared to give 10 hours of learning even though you are scheduled for only five hours.

I have no idea how far I travel in a month. I oversee 14 teaching centers in Arkansas, Kansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oklahoma, Tennessee, and Texas. If a center is no more than five hours driving time, I drive, but many are more than six hours away from where I live and without an airport anywhere nearby. A typical travel day to one of these isolated centers starts early in the morning with the 30-45 minute drive to the San Antonio airport. From San Antonio, it is about an hour to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, where I wait another hour for the connecting flight, and then an hour flight to Oklahoma City to get a rental car and drive two to three hours to the center. At that point, I still need to get a room, clean up, and get to the center. After a few hours in the center, I'm off to a five-hour class before the day ends and I get ready for the return trip or travel to the next center. Luckily, most of my centers take less travel time than this.

The 9/11 terrorist attacks created an incredible logistical challenge for the Extended Campus. We could not conduct classes at many of our regular locations - on military bases - because they were locked down. We held classes in churches, at banks, and in Boy Scout huts. It was an example of seeing the best in people coming out during the worst of times.

I am a product of adult education. If it were not for schools like the Extended Campus, that give adults an opportunity, I would not have a college degree. I teach to give something back.

Because I teach the graduate research design class, I get to work one-on-one with students, from the abstract explanation of what research is through the development stages and to the conclusion of their projects. It's a blast to be there when they see all the pieces come together and finally understand the entire process.

What motivates people? There are many different theories about motivation and most managers have been trained on these theories, yet few practice what they have learned.

Some say people aren't flying because of the economy or the impact of the terrorist attacks or a combination of both factors. Right now, no one knows for sure what it will take to bring back the flying public. I'd love to do a comprehensive study to find out what is negatively impacting the American flying public and what can be done about it.

-- Faculty interviews by Robert Ross