When synchronous teaching feels like a game show no one is winning.
By Amber Foster, Ph.D. – March 24, 2020
The students’ faces appear stacked on my screen like celebrities in the classic game show Hollywood Squares. Some sit on the floor of their dorm rooms, their roommate a huddled shape in the bunk bed behind them. Others are in childhood bedrooms, living rooms—any quiet place they can find.
“Who has an answer to the first one?” I ask.
A second later, a series of pings: virtual hands being raised. I’m reminded of Peter Marshall, the host of Hollywood Squares from 1966 to 1981. He wore large spectacles and pastel suits, a stack of yellow cards in his hand. He called on the celebrities and contestants, not unlike a college professor facing a row of students on Zoom.
“Kelly. You’re up,” I say. The student reads her answer; I provide feedback. The game moves on.
I teach Writing and Critical Reasoning for the Writing Program. Our small, seminar-style classes have a heavy emphasis on discussion and collaborative work, so adapting for teaching in an online environment has presented unique challenges. Virtual meeting software such as Zoom and Blackboard Collaborate Ultra have proven indispensable for those of us who have opted to hold synchronous class sessions, but each day brings new technical and pedagogical puzzles to solve. There are students whose bandwidth is so poor they can only communicate via chat; there are students who disappear from the room, then reappear two minutes later, their connection dropped; there are lags and mics that don’t work and the inopportune arrivals of relatives and pets.
Even without technical difficulties, we’re all distracted with worry for our friends and family, for the elderly and immunocompromised among us, for the economy, for the world. We watch the number of COVID-19 casualties rise, and it’s like being in a war against an invisible enemy. At the same time, students are losing jobs, internships, graduation ceremonies. Futures that once seemed bright are now dimmed by uncertainty. In that frame of mind, the work we do for class must seem like a game—Hollywood Squares celebrities laughing and joking as the Vietnam War raged on.
Yet I would argue that synchronous teaching provides unprecedented opportunities for connection. Humans are social animals, as evidenced by the online communities forming all over the world. Now, instead of classrooms, we’re broadcasting into our most private spaces—our living rooms and bedrooms. The line between our work lives and our home lives has blurred. And, in my experience, students are eager to be part of the communities we have the power to create.
Teaching synchronously doesn’t have to be a burden—on ourselves, or our students. We can provide asynchronous options for students unable to attend. Additionally, we can do periodic audio-only or chat-only activities, to give everyone a break from the camera. Like many of us in the first week of online teaching, I discovered the intense cognitive fatigue that comes with teaching while multitasking with technology. Moving forward, I will likely blend synchronous and asynchronous activities, listening to my students’ feedback about what works, and what doesn’t. But I also believe the virtual classroom can be a site of resistance against fear and isolation.
Some strategies I’ve found useful in my own pedagogy include:
- Sharing discussion questions (via “screen share”), then having students go into breakout groups, reporting back on the most interesting thing they talked about.
- Having students generate discussion questions based on the reading or other class material, then calling on students to ask their questions to the rest of the class.
- Pre-assigning reading comprehension questions, then having students check their answers with each other in smaller breakout groups.
- Having students respond to a question in writing first, then calling on individual students to share their answers (this works well as a warm up activity at the beginning of class).
- Tasking breakout groups with investigating a problem or question (with a set time limit), then having each group present their findings. Encourage the rest of the class to ask questions or respond after each presentation.
- Getting students working collaboratively on a project, with a set time limit. For example, I’ve used Google Docs and breakout rooms to have students write research abstracts. After the time expired, I brought everyone back into the main room to share their abstracts and receive constructive feedback from the other groups.
- Gamifying. Embrace the game show aesthetic and host a quiz show to check students’ knowledge of course material.
We all know the transition to online discussion won’t be perfect. There will be awkward silences, and virtual meetings can never replicate the spontaneity of face-to-face communication. In my duties as host, I may find that my celebrity guests don’t respond immediately to my questions, and the contestants might inexplicably walk out of the room. I won’t always know the right question to ask, nor will I always have an answer to every question. But this crisis isn’t about winning; it’s about playing the game, as best you can, until it’s over.
Amber Foster is an Assistant (Teaching) Professor for the Writing Program, where she is a former co-chair and current member of the Teaching with Technology Committee. She has extensive experience in online curriculum design, and she regularly presents her research on technology-mediated instruction at national conferences.