I have a colleague I'll call Jimmy. He's a ham. He's a card. He's a guy you want to spend 4 minutes with at a party, because he's such a pleaser.
But no more than 4 minutes.
He's that way in his classes. Handslaps, fistbumps, lots of songs blasting before class. Students call him Dr. Jimmy. They're such great pals all of them.
His students end up in my upper level courses. They can't believe their fucking luck. We don't have any movies or funny YouTube videos. I have deadlines that don't float.
I get "shit I'm unhappy" looks from the students for about 4 weeks. Things turn around. I'm not a lousy teacher. We get on target eventually. It's rigorous. They work hard and they get better.
But every semester I have to undo the bullshit expectations Dr. Jimmy builds up in them.
I had a conversation with Jimmy a few days ago about this. Not tangentially, I'm on his tenure review committee. After I laid out some of what I see as challenges for me as someone who takes on his freshmen and sophomores, he said, "I don't get it. They have such a blast in my class."
If I thought I could get away with it, I'd stab Dr. Jimmy in the fucking throat.