Thread
Last night, a professor walked into a night class for the first time since 2016. Here's what happened:
I was teaching at another campus -- not my primary employer -- after their night class professor couldn't teach this semester. I'd previously taught at this institution and was thrilled to have the chance to have a night class once more, because I LOVE TEACHING THEM.
Registration numbers fluctuate a lot in the first days of a semester, but this class has about 40 students. A mix of majors and non-majors. Age range is 17-42. Some athletes, a few gamers, lots of "typical" (whatever that means) residential college students.
As I feel on EVERY first day of the semester, I'm giddy -- positively vibrating with excitement. The students sense it and seem wary. (They always are.) I brought a picnic basket of snacks (as I always do -- #foodinsecurity is a thing, no matter the school). That breaks the ice.
The clock strikes 5:30 pm, and I can begin. I explode with exclamations of excitement that they're here. (This is also normal for me.) I walk around the room, pacing with giddy energy, as I tell them that I'd literally rather be NO OTHER PLACE than in this room with them.
I then begin to explain a few things I want them to understand from the jump.
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#1: I despise grades. I refuse to assign them for work. (Explanation of #ungrading and its rationale follows.) I pause to ask if there are questions or comments. They stare at me, stunned.
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#1: I despise grades. I refuse to assign them for work. (Explanation of #ungrading and its rationale follows.) I pause to ask if there are questions or comments. They stare at me, stunned.
A student up front says, "Um, does that mean I can do nothing?" And I said, "Do you *want* to do nothing? Is that why you are here?" He replied, "I was just kidding. This sounds cool."
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Another student says, "I have massive anxiety. I'm always worried I won't get a perfect
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Another student says, "I have massive anxiety. I'm always worried I won't get a perfect
grade. This is a huge relief." I chime in: "I have a lot of anxiety, too. I get it."
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A student at the back of the room is eating some snacks from the circulating basket, but he swallows and says, "If I were in church right now, I'd yell out, 'PREACH!' or 'AMEN!' or something."
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A student at the back of the room is eating some snacks from the circulating basket, but he swallows and says, "If I were in church right now, I'd yell out, 'PREACH!' or 'AMEN!' or something."
#2: I have a plan for how our class _could_ unfold, but a night class presents opportunities for more project-based learning, and I'm open to hearing their ideas. I tell them we'll circle back in a little bit and to let that marinate.
#3: I say that I want us to do some kind of introductions, but that I decidedly DO NOT want them to be cringe. They laugh and agree. I ask for suggestions. Crickets. I then ask everyone to stand up and make their way to the very large aisle in our big classroom.
(I kind of have the feeling at this point that they're willing to go along with this because WHAT WILL THIS WOMAN SAY NEXT?!?!) I ask them to mill about, just kind of shuffle around a bit, and after a short time I'll tell them to stop and explain what to do.
(This is a trick I picked up from my colleague who once taught kindergarten. You should have a colleague like that and steal all their tricks, 'cause they're the best.) After about 30 seconds of nervous shuffling, I yell out, "Stop!" Find someone nearby and give them a high five.
I then direct everyone to introduce themselves to the person they just high fived and chat briefly about anything. The room buzzes for a few seconds and then everyone looks at me. I tell them to start shuffling again, that we'll do this twice more. They shuffle.
On the second stop-and-high-five, the buzzing gets much louder. Now whole conversations are unfolding, people are laughing, body language relaxes. Some students are fully in the crowded middle, others are on the edges and quieter (as I would be).
One student, a veteran, starts circulating through the room and shaking every other student's hand, introducing himself. When I suggest they circulate once more, only about half do, because they're too engrossed in conversations. Finally, I tell them we're going to do a few more
standing introductions, but in a different way. I create an XY axis across the length of the room and give three prompts:
1) If you live on campus, come to this side. If not, head the other way.
2) If you like playing video games, go this way. If not, the other.
1) If you live on campus, come to this side. If not, head the other way.
2) If you like playing video games, go this way. If not, the other.
3) Arrange yourselves roughly in a line from youngest to oldest.
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In each of these, they're talking to the people near them. Some discover they live on the same floor of the same dorm. Others discover they're both dual enrollment students. Video game suggestions are exchanged.
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In each of these, they're talking to the people near them. Some discover they live on the same floor of the same dorm. Others discover they're both dual enrollment students. Video game suggestions are exchanged.
Now we sit and the brainstorming begins. What can we do with this time together? Ideas include a field trip to our state capital to meet with legislators, creating educational fliers to post around campus about how gov't works, making a music video better than Schoolhouse Rock.
Creating a podcast. Hosting guest speakers. Doing a community service project. Going to a basketball game together (conference games are mostly on Wednesday nights). Themed class nights -- everyone dress like a character from Alexander Hamilton the musical! @Lin_Manuel
Potlucks! Reenactments! Board games! I mention I have four sets of @SecretHitler ... nervous laughter erupts, until I tell them the goal of Secret Hitler is to find and kill Hitler. They're on board for that.
We end class by answering this question: "What the heck happened in Congress last week?!" with some choice @cspan clips and a discussion of "present" votes. Students leave chattering, with several hanging back to tell me about things they need to make class more comfortable...
like noise-cancelling headphones before class begins, because the fountain in the lobby is a grating sound, or that they want to check in each week just to make sure they're not forgetting anything and are on track. I leave on a cloud of happiness. #AcademicTwitter
For the folks who've so kindly engaged here, reach out if you'd like any of my stuff -- syllabi, etc. -- as I'm always delighted to share anything I've got. We are better together. 🥰
As I work through responding to those who reached out privately -- which I'm doing, and I'm grateful! -- here's a page on my web site with resources, including versions of my syllabus and other teaching resources: www.liznorell.com/resources/
I would not be the educator I am without the MANY brilliant authors I've read -- including, but not exhaustively: Michelle Miller (my forthcoming book's editor!), Jim Lang, @SusanDebraBlum @GeekyPedagogy @TheTattooedProf @joshua_r_eyler @SaRoseCav @harrietschwartz @Flowerdarby
@kenbain1 @SusanHrach @Jenae_Cohn Laura Rendón, Parker Palmer, bell hooks, @chrisemdin @BreneBrown @vijisathy @DrMrsKellyHogan @PoojaAgarwal @GholdyM @BLoveSoulPower @SteveBrookfield and many others I've neglected to include, I'm sure. (APOLOGIES!)
UPDATE: Last night, I rejoined my night-class students for the first time since this thread went viral-ish (at least by #AcademicTwitter standards). I had debated for two weeks whether to tell them they were, at least in one corner of the internet, semi-famous. I landed on yes.
I showed them a screen capture of the first tweet in this thread (with the engagement numbers). The room got noisy, quickly. "WHAT?!" Their faces mirrored the face I had for about 72 hours after it started blowing up. A mixture of disbelief, curiosity, and discomfort.
I told them that I'd gotten dozens of requests to see the syllabus for the class. "If you haven't read your syllabus, some professor in Montana has, sooo..." 🤔 Laughter. I talked about the invitations to appear on podcasts, to write a blog post, and more. The room got buzzy.
We talked about Qs they had lingering about expectations and assignments, deadlines, etc., and then dove into our topics for the night: the Constitutional Convention, puzzling out some tricky bits of the Constitution, and reading GW's Farewell Address.
I told some of my favorite stories -- about Mitt Romney's scandalous choice of drinking chocolate milk during the first Trump impeachment (www.vice.com/en/article/5dm9kk/no-mitt-romney-you-cant-drink-chocolate-milk-out-of-the-bottle-during-...), about Strom Thurmond's historic filibuster and the rampant falsehoods about what he did during that 24hr18min chat.
(Tl;dr. Thurmond did not read random things during his 24 hr 18 min filibuster. HE WAS ON TOPIC THE WHOLE TIME. How do I know this? Because I read the whole stupid thing years ago while looking for his grandma's biscuit recipe. Someday, maybe soon, I'll write about that odyssey.)
As we worked through GW's Farewell Address, as usually happens, a lot of buzzing in the room prevailed. Like, this was penned in **1796**?! HOW DID HE KNOW?! Are we comforted by the fact that Washington knew we'd be fighting these fights in 2023? Or is it just depressing?
(Most ppl know Washington warned against parties in the Farewell Address, but not much more. Want to know more? Here's a video I made for my async students explaining the key bits: youtu.be/UpGaH2N_fjM)
Perhaps my favorite icky thing about the Farewell? The Senate has read this text aloud every year since 1896. Riddle me how they engage in this annual ritual with so little self-awareness?! I'd genuinely like to know. (www.senate.gov/about/traditions-symbols/washingtons-farewell-address.htm)
Students left with more questions than answers -- a hallmark of joyful learning, IMO. I don't want to tell my Ss everything. I want them to discover it. I want them to burn with curiosity about these Qs that represent the foundation of our collective past, present, future.
I joked last night that my Ss were well on their way to becoming influencers with spon con deals. I joked with my friends that if my class was a reality TV show, my seats would forevermore be filled with "wrong reasons" recruits. But the truth? Learning is EXCITING.
We should be celebrating moments of joy and curiosity and excitement and puzzlement and all of the good things. How can we create more of those moments in our classrooms? That's an individual Q with a variety of answers, but I'm pretty confident it starts with this:
-- or some authentic-for-you combination of these things:
Listen to your students.
Ask them Qs.
Trust them.
Tell stories.
Chase rabbits -- student Qs are *fascinating*.
Learn *together*.
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And: Take a moment during class to soak up the truly incredible feeling of being in community with humans who want to grow. It's the literal best.
Ask them Qs.
Trust them.
Tell stories.
Chase rabbits -- student Qs are *fascinating*.
Learn *together*.
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And: Take a moment during class to soak up the truly incredible feeling of being in community with humans who want to grow. It's the literal best.
Third class (in session): Students are researching landmark civil liberties cases and preparing skits to reenact the precipitating events. My prop box includes flashlights, fake police badges, flashlights, long scraps of black fabric, and a sweary coloring book. #activelearning
Heated discussion underway about how many kids were holding up the "bong hits 4 Jesus" banner, gasps over what the Phelps family said at the Snyder funeral, and researching what the arm bands worn by @marybtinker & friends actually looked like. #amteaching #AcademicTwitter
"Do you expect me to be Al Pacino?" ask one student. "Definitely not," I assure.
"Will you hold up a sign for us during our skit?" asks the Snyder v. Phelps team of another group. They assent. (I suspect they may live to regret this.)
"Can we use a table as a coffin?" Absolutely. Use the furniture as you need to help us understand what happened.
Posted with the student's permission: A student reenacts a Supreme Court case. #activelearning at its finest. I'm leaving class on a teaching high, as usual. #AcademicTwitter 
