The integration of vocational education in biochemistry fosters a deeper understanding of character and virtue. By encouraging students to explore questions about their future roles as scientists and healthcare professionals, the approach enhances engagement and comprehension. This shift, while raising awareness of knowledge gaps, promotes profound learning despite a temporary dip in confidence.
A series exploring the connections between vocation and pedagogy.
Educating students for vocation means introducing them to a more substantive understanding of a good and flourishing life. It should lead to considerations of character and virtue—ways of being and acting that give meaning, purpose, and direction. When I first thought about integrating vocation into my teaching, I picked my junior-level biochemistry course. I thought if I could make space for these considerations in this content-heavy upper-level major course, I could find space for vocation in any course. As I contemplated my approach to this work, I wanted to ensure that what I added supported the disciplinary content and fit appropriately within the arc of students’ vocational discernment.
The latest episode of NetVUE’s podcast Callings features Carlo Rotella, a writer and professor at Boston College. His book, What Can I Get Out of This?, explores teaching undergraduates and emphasizes meaningful engagement in the classroom. Rotella advocates for seeing education as a practice requiring persistence and presence, underscoring its relevance beyond mere career preparation.
Carlo Rotella
NetVUE’s podcast Callings has released a new episode, which features an interview with Carlo Rotella, an award-winning writer and professor of American Studies, English, and journalism at Boston College. His most recent book,What Can I Get Out of This?: Teaching and Learning in a Classroom Full of Skepticsgets at the heart of what it means to teach and to learn together with undergraduate students today. Carlo has been a regular contributor to The New York Times Magazine since 2007. His work has appeared in collections like The Best American Essays, as well as The New Yorker, Harper’s, Chicago Tribune, Boston Globe, Slate, and various scholarly periodicals. Recurring subjects in his writing are cities and city life, boxing, music, crime, basketball, neighborhoods, and how people get good at things. He is co-editor and founder of the University of Chicago Press’s Chicago Visions and Revisions book series.
As his career and his most recent book illustrates, Carlo is interested in the nuts and bolts of teaching—what he considers its craft and the ways we can build classroom experiences that help our students make meaning. The book follows the experience of a single cohort of students in a required introductory literature course, most of whom are not English majors. In it, Rotella tells the story of what happens when students practice discussing ideas and readings with each other over a semester and then follows up with them a few years later, revealing that the course’s impact yielded an impactful return on investment in one’s education and life. As he describes it, one of the things it explores is “how to be a student, how to do college,” helping educators better understand how our students experience and live out their vocations as students.
This post initiates a series on the interplay between vocation and pedagogy, highlighting the significance of hope in the classroom. It emphasizes student engagement and the necessity of viewing learners as valuable individuals. By implementing Universal Design for Learning, educators can create inclusive environments that foster vocational conversations and support students’ unique experiences and aspirations.
The first post in a series exploring the connections between vocation and pedagogy.
“What conversations about meaning and purpose do you wish we were having in the classroom?” I asked a group of my senior students and then held my breath. When I first began thinking about vocation, I felt overwhelmed by both the possibilities and the challenges of integrating it intentionally into my teaching. To help me do so, I invited my students to help me understand what they needed so that we could imagine what was possible. They were eager to engage, and their ideas jumped quickly among three elements: the content of the conversations, the possible structures for activities, and the culture of the classroom. As my students shared their thoughts, they connected content and pedagogy in ways that encouraged me to think more carefully about designing possible activities to give shape to and reinforce the unfolding conversation. It was the beginning of my learning journey, which has led to many interesting observations of the reciprocal relationship between vocational exploration with students and general pedagogy.
In this first post, I want to consider vocational and pedagogical hope in the classroom. Students are shaped by the hopes we hold for them and the value we see in them. Engaging vocation invites us to see our students not merely as the receivers of learning but as people whose experiences, skills, and passions have value. It challenges us to consider how our interactions contribute to their discernment and flourishing. To view students vocationally is to embody hope for them, as Paul Wadell so aptly describes. We cannot think vocationally without hope, and the learning spaces we create contribute to communicating that hope to our students.
Teaching can be challenging, especially regarding discussions about vocation. The use of sticky notes emerges as an effective tool for fostering engagement and connection among students. They encourage manageable tasks, promote interaction, and help individuals share their values and fears, facilitating deeper conversations about purpose and community in a supportive environment.
Teaching is hard. Teaching vocation may be even harder.
It can be tricky to bring a new audience of students, educators, or really anyone into conversations about vocation. It requires true vulnerability—both among participants and from their facilitator—to get folks to think and talk about their past, present, and future; their values and desires; and especially their doubts and fears. We need tools that can help us speak and listen to each other, lowering the stakes of group activities while at the same time increasing engagement in them.
What if I told you I knew of such a tool? In fact, a wonderous tool—one that is inexpensive, widely available and almost infinitely adaptable?
In “Follow Your Bliss and Other Lies About Calling,” Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore discusses the complexity of vocations, highlighting their potential for both meaning and pain. A recent webinar featuring faculty from NetVUE institutions explored themes of the book, emphasizing engagement in undergraduates’ understanding of callings amid modern challenges.
In Follow Your Bliss and Other Lies About Calling, Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore explores the “double-edged” quality of our callings, grappling honestly with how we live out our vocations in all their complexities. As affirming and generative as they can be, “deeply meaningful callings,” she writes, “are also often painful!” On November 13, four faculty members from NetVUE institutions explored this issue (and many more) as they discussed Miller-McLemore’s recent contribution to vocation studies, which also serves as NetVUE’s Big Read this year. In their discussion, they reflected on ways to engage this book with undergraduate students in the classroom and how its major themes can help them understand and contextualize the challenges that come with callings to work and live in a fast-paced, modern society.
Webinar presenters included (left to right) Brian Bowman, Deirdre Egan-Ryan, Jason Mahn, and Brad Pardue.
The post reflects on mentoring a student who struggled after not being accepted into graduate school, emphasizing the importance of distinguishing vocation from career in the sciences. A four-part vocational discernment assignment encourages students to explore their callings beyond professional paths, fostering self-awareness and engagement with their values and community roles.
A series exploring the teaching of vocation in physics.
A few years ago, I mentored a student in their senior year who, despite their best efforts, did not get accepted into graduate school. The student was crushed. They had identified the path of graduate studies as their calling. Now, with the gate to that path closed for at least a year, what was their calling? For students in the sciences, their vocation and even their value are often tied up in their career. As a practice, science is all-consuming. It has a way of eating up your time, energy, goals, and personal life. You feel that if you are not “all in,” then you are doing it wrong.
Reflecting on this student’s experience, I realized that I could have done more to help them see how their calling or vocation could play out in multiple aspects of their life, which is why I now have students think and write more fully about this part of their vocation exploration. In this post, I highlight the impact of my four-part vocational discernment assignment for science students, which I described in my previous post. I also discuss a follow-up assignment, which instructors can use to help students think about vocation as something that intersects with multiple aspects of their lives, not just their future career.
The final post in this series discusses how creative writing pedagogy can benefit vocational education. It emphasizes the importance of life stories in addressing students’ identity crises and fears about the future. By studying the lives of various figures, students can gain insights into their own unpredictable journeys, learning that success often comes from embracing unexpected paths and overcoming failures.
The final post in a series on what creative writing pedagogy has to offer vocational teaching in any discipline.
Teaching and advising creative writing students can mean dealing with frequent identity crises. “But how do I become a real writer?” my students often ask. “How do I get published?” they want to know, or, “How can I pay my rent while pursuing my art?” Instructors of other disciplines may be able to relate, with students doubting their abilities to become a skilled enough doctor, lawyer, or engineer. “Do I really have what it takes to go to med school?” they might ask, or, “How do I choose between my passions and a job that pays the bills?”
Creative writing pedagogy can enhance vocational teaching across disciplines by encouraging students to construct literary “family trees,” tracing their artistic influences. This exercise fosters a sense of belonging and legacy, linking students to historical figures in their fields. It empowers them to explore their roots, celebrate their influences, and envision their future contributions.
A series of posts on what creative writing pedagogy has to offer vocational teaching in any discipline.
Kalpis painting of Sappho by the Sappho Painter (c. 510 BC).
One of the most revealing exercises that teachers regularly assign in the creative writing classroom is the construction of a literary “family tree”—a map of a student writer’s artistic influences, those influences’ influences, and so on. In my creative writing MFA program, I had to construct a family tree of 20 poets who had shaped my own writing style, starting with 20th-century poet Adrienne Rich and stretching back from her to Emily Dickinson in the 19th century, on to Shakespeare, and all the way back to Sappho, who wrote 2,500 years ago. I then read and took an exam on all these figures’ writing. The exam resembled comprehensive exams in a PhD program, but with the explicit framework of my own personal artistic lineage and legacy.
In this post, I offer the “family tree” as a tool to be used by instructors in any discipline to help students on their vocational journeys.
The article outlines a four-part vocational exploration assignment designed for science students to help them engage with and refine their career aspirations. It emphasizes self-reflection, hypothesis formation, real-world testing, and final conclusions. The objective is to align students’ career choices with their strengths and values to foster their vocational growth.
A series exploring the teaching of vocation in physics.
Over the course of my career, I have found that my students often do not realize that the type of science they might wish to pursue can constrain their future paths. Students who might want to work at a particle accelerator might not realize they cannot do so here in Washington State where I teach. This limitation often surprises them, especially those local students who want to remain close to home after they graduate. A highly scaffolded vocational exploration assignment can address this confusion.
Creative writing pedagogy can enrich vocational teaching by emphasizing process over product, embracing failure, and prioritizing revision. This approach fosters courage, openness, and trust in students while encouraging them to take risks and learn from their mistakes. Ultimately, self-trust and experimentation lead to personal and professional growth.
A series of posts on what creative writing pedagogy has to offer vocational teaching in any discipline.
In On Being Stuck: Tapping Into the Creative Power of Writer’s Block, Laraine Herring writes, “We all have methods for getting in our own way. It’s human nature.” Her point is true for everyone—not just for creative writers. It’s especially true for students on their vocational journeys. As I mentioned in the first post in my series, the skills required for vocational discernment—courage, openness, and trust—are the same skills required for making art. And the same barriers to making good art—fear, self-doubt, and self-criticism—can also block or challenge students as they explore and discern their vocations. That’s why I think creative writing pedagogy offers helpful frameworks for all instructors when it comes to teaching vocation.
