TAing is a job. It’s a deceptively hard one. Marking can be surprisingly draining. Administrative duties like organizing office hours and managing emails can eat into time you need for your own thesis. You can find yourself suddenly exposed to troubling or concerning subject matter, and office-hour discussions on craft and storytelling can turn unexpectedly into impromptu counseling sessions–emotional labour TAs are not prepared for. The set of skills asked of a TA are extremely varied and often have little to do with the craft of writing. And then, on top of all of this, you may also be asked to undertake the terrifying public performance we call the lecture.
There was a 1973 study published by R.H. Burskin Associates as American Fears (great name) that people like to quote a lot. You’ve probably heard it. It’s the one that says people rank their fear of public speaking higher than their fear of death. It is obviously a pretty flawed study, and it has been debunked thoroughly over the years, but it keeps being repeated because it does do a good job of illustrating one universal human truth: public speaking is utterly terrifying. Even those of us who enjoy it still describe it as ‘exhilarating,’ which is a positive descriptor that nonetheless has a sprinkle of fear Salt Bae’ed onto it. That we lump this mortal terror onto the already over-stuffed set of skills expected of TAs might seem a step too far, and often it is the anticipation of lecturing that gives TAs the most anxiety.
Maybe because it is so anxiety-inducing, because it is such an unexpected skill to demand of a writer, I like to think of lecturing as a kind of unwritten perk of a TA position. I like to think of it as an opportunity to practice a skill that rarely gets foregrounded in Creative Writing courses and training. We tend to think of the craft of writing as occurring in solitude, but the truth is that, regardless of the genre of writing you specialize in, you will be asked to talk about it publicly at some point. Whether you intend to pursue a career in writing alone, or one that is augmented with teaching, at some point someone will ask you to take the stage, and talk about what you know about your craft. Building a lecture as a TA gives you the opportunity to cut your teeth on this terrifying task, to work with mentors who can provide support and guidance, and practice with a friendly audience of students, and to ultimately leave with a completed lecture in your back pocket. Something that is yours, and something you can pull out if needs be when next you’re asked to talk about craft.
TAing is a job, but at its best it shouldn’t be. The term Teaching Assistant seems to imply that a TA’s job is to assist their professors with work professors can’t be bothered to do themselves. But TAs are students, too–our best, most experienced and highly trained students–and if our goal as a school is to support and train students, then this implication of the word ‘assistant’ needs to be 180’ed. TAing, at its best, provides fiscal support paired with hands-on training and practice that prepares TAs for a future in teaching and writing. Giving them the opportunity to practice those sometimes terrifying skills, like lecturing, that are often overlooked, in an environment that is supportive, safe and structured, might be a perk of the job. As responsibilities and deadlines pile up, it doesn’t always feel this way. But that’s the goal. Or should be, scary as that perk may seem.