Our daughter, Sierra, is nearing the end of her sophomore year of college. Unless she ends up on the “scenic route” that I took to reach the end of my undergraduate degree she is half way to the finish line of her bachelor’s degree, and the starting line of what some refer to as “real life”. Of course, if one isn’t quite ready for “real life” there’s always graduate school.

Sierra is enjoying her college experience, and is gaining a lot of valuable knowledge and experience. Knowledge and experience that I hope translates into a satisfying, fulfilling career that provides enough income to make monthly payments on her college experience with enough left over to put me in a retirement home that changes my diaper at least once a week and allows a daily ration of whiskey and a cigar. A parent can dream can’t they?

I knew she would enjoy college, and I know she has chosen a program of study that suits her well, so I am excited to see what the future holds for her. I am excited to see what the future holds for both of my children, but not so much so that I would wish away a minute of time in the present. As I’ve lamented in many past columns, the future will come soon enough.

One thing that I wasn’t expecting out of Sierra’s college experience as a student, was that it would change me as a professor. This change has been for the better, and can be summed up in with the word “empathy”. Being privy to her various experiences, good, bad, and down right frustrating, trying to navigate all the working parts of a university from a parent’s vantage point has increased the empathy I have for my students.

It’s not that I didn’t care about my students before, I just didn’t really concern myself with all that was vying for their energy and attention outside of my classroom. I knew what I wanted them to learn about the subject I was attempting to teach them, but beyond that it didn’t seem like much of my business. After twelve or so years of blabbing in front of young adults, that has changed, and empathy has made me a better teacher.

A teacher that doesn’t just see the students sitting before me in class anymore, but one that sees them, and the bleacher full of people behind them. The bleacher full of family, friends, children, spouses, and former teachers cheering them on and wanting nothing but the best for them.

Having a daughter in college has motivated and inspired me to take a seat in the bleachers behind each of my students, and not be another pain-in-the-posterior professor holding yet another flaming hoop that they need to jump through on their march towards “real life”. I focus much less on what I feel they should know, how they should learn it, why they should learn it, and who I feel they should be striving to become, and instead, focus on, and take sincere interest in, who they want to be and what they need to know to navigate their world. Their “real world”.

College may exist outside of the “real world”, but it is a world, and any world can benefit from a little more empathy.