2005 Competition - 2nd place

What makes a good law teacher?

Sachin Trikha (London School of Economics)

Sachin was placed second in the 2005 competition and invited to attend the Learning in Law Annual Conference 2005.

A year or so back I remember vividly hurrying with a few friends to my final criminal law tutorial before our mock paper on a damp and dreary December morning. We arrived, smiled at each other, chit-chatted briefly but then uniformly fell into silence when our teacher arrived and sat at her desk. Here was a woman who had the respect of her class. We smiled again, and she smiled back. “Morning all, how are we today?” she politely inquired. A groan or two, a sigh, a complaint about the weather, someone complained about their shoes if I remember correctly! “I’ve got news for you all by the way”, she continued, “you’re all about to write the write the best essay you’ve ever written.” A few smirked, but as I see it, and with the benefit of hindsight, she wasn’t lying.

That day was no different to any other Criminal tutorial I had last year. The mood was relaxed, and this was of central importance. As a student, it is often intimidating to speak out, or question, in front of one’s peers and an academic. It always seems best to keep quiet and let people think you’re a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt. We never felt intimidated here and our teacher was responsible for this. She had installed a friendly, relaxed, academic atmosphere through being friendly, relaxed and academic herself.

We found the atmosphere within which we learnt pivotal to our enjoyment of the course and the consequences were great. Even the most timid of characters cited authorities at will, undeterred and constantly encouraged if ever the odd one was incorrect. Debates were lively, often controversial, and frequently rewarding. In few tutorials did we leave on the hour and still be discussing the issues at heart.

Indeed it was the debates that we all enjoyed most. Our teacher, of Australian origin, would often provide us the facts of a recent Australian case relevant to the area of the law we were studying. Having divided the class into prosecution and defence whilst sitting herself as judge and jury, battle would commence. It was participation that made the event enjoyable, and reading the required material triggered our participation. We constantly strove to
include that substantive principle, or cite that authority that would leave us victorious. We were motivated to read our work as we knew that it would be applied in an enjoyable manner.

Though our time was not solely spent in discussion, but in substantive learning too. Visual aids were key – the use of the overhead projector, the white-board and the distribution of class handouts were all very much appreciated. We welcomed the fact that issues were explained to us, and that we weren’t being lectured in class. With her clarity of expression, the difficulties of the material appeared to evaporate and all that remained was a clear body of substantive principles. Not only were the principles patently explained to us, but she made room for discussing the social consequences of the issues at heart – rather than merely dictating the provisions of a given statute, the material was brought to life by the highlighting of the social application of the principles and its immediate implications.

We were also constantly made aware that tutorials provided the forum to settle any uncertainties that we had. No question was too small to ask, and we utilized this fact to the maximum. I remember a friend once asking if sticking a pin in a voodoo doll with the assured belief that it would kill someone, somewhere, constituted attempted murder! We were also encouraged to ask ourselves questions to test our own knowledge.

It was also the personal element that our teacher brought to proceedings that we all appreciated. Not only by merely addressing us by our first names, but the fact that she would always stop and make the time to speak to us whenever we bumped into her around campus. Indeed she was a very approachable teacher. We were never hesitant to visit her during her ‘office hours’, where we hammer out any uncertainties that were still lingering. We also used this time to go through any written work which we had submitted. Such work was never merely just given a grade and passed back; it was always accompanied by lengthy constructive criticism and helpful tips on to how to improve our legal essay technique. She fully understood that this was a course that was new to all of us – she never expected too much and did all she could to raise our standards.

So the year went past, and having spent a lot of the time sifting through the ins and outs of ‘actus reus’ and ‘mens rea’ et alia, it was time for the exam. Never was the helpfulness of our teacher more apparent than during this time. Tutorials had by this stage, ended, but our teacher was quick to emphasise that this did not mean that we would be alone with only our books for company. E-mail was a great resource. Whenever a question was sent, a reply was posted within hours. In this way, our teacher had a constant influence over our exam preparation. She had time for us outside her mandatory hours, and she was keen to put everything in place to ensure that we would do well in the examination.

We knew when we started our university lives that although we could choose our course, we couldn’t choose our teachers. And although I have found that the emphasis has sifted to self-study, I would argue that the role of the teacher is therefore all the more vital. Who else to clarify our mistakes and settle the issues that we ourselves have come across in our readings? I implore therefore, teachers to adopt the approach taken by my criminal law teacher. To set the atmosphere within which all students prefer to learn, to motivate, to help wherever possible, to encourage and to add a personal touch. Not only did it improve my mark, but equally as importantly, it ensured I enjoyed my course.

Last Modified: 29 June 2010