Some of the faces are bored, some attentive and a number of them appear to be creased with what I call "oh shit what did I get myself into"anxiety lines, as I review the tome that is my syllabus. I have diligently prepared every aspect of this 8 page document so that everything necessary for a student's successful foray into my public speaking class appears: from the course number, my contact information, to assignment due dates and my policy on plagiarism...it is all there. I remind them, "Do NOT forget to bring your syllabus to class and do NOT forget to look it over for when assignments are due. If you lose it you need to request another one so that you are up to speed on what is happening in class. If you ask me when something is due, I will surmise that you are not following these instructions". Eyes blink at me, hands shuffle through the pages and then I tell them, "Now I will go over the syllabus with you, but hereafter, unless there are changes, you will be responsible for what is contained therein." (OK, I don't say "therein" but you get the idea).
What you need to know about a syllabus. You need to know that it is a document that has been developed over the course of several hours, several days and, in some cases, even years. It is a labor of love and necessity. It is your guide. It is the holy grail of a school semester that should lead you to the land of A's and excellence or at least give you an idea why you didn't end up there. I don't fill it with any pictures or fancy fonts or silly side notes, because I want you to see it as important. It is evidence that I take you seriously. That I value you and your time and your money. It is evidence that I have done my job in preparing for your journey with me through the horrors of public speaking. It is the product of numerous edits, rearrangements, and a number of glasses of wine. I ponder the best and worst practices of last year and agonize over what stays, what goes and where/what new material comes in. Frankly, it is like giving birth, or so I assume. There is a gestation period and a birthing period and then there is the pain in delivering it to you, the student, and hoping you will see in the syllabus all that I see: the hope of a productive semester filled with the opportunity to overcome some issues in self confidence that seem to weigh many of us down when it comes to delivering speeches or believing we can write or do anything "smart". I give you this syllabus. Put it somewhere safe. Treat it with some measure of respect. I have given you my best effort within its pages and trees have suffered as a result.
When the school year ends, by all means throw this mother of all syllabi in the recycling bin. Part ways when the time comes. Maybe take one brief glance through it before it leaves your fingertips for the last time, and remember how far you've come. You were given this syllabus not to burden you for life, but to guide you for a semester. You were given this syllabus not as punishment but as a testament to my respect for you.
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