Building Community: ASLC-234 & FAMS-320

As a film course (Japan on Screen) with mandatory screenings every Wednesday evening, which I also attend in order to screen the films for the students, I make use of the filmgoing experience that held for the first century or so of cinema: Film viewing is communal because the way we watch is to gather together in a darkened theater, engaging with the film at the same time, in the same space, under the same circumstances.  This fall, that film viewing situation poses unnecessary health risks, so films will be viewed via video reserves at a time and place of each student’s choosing.  If I get preoccupied with these kinds of issues, I tend to think about the upcoming fall as one of loss, whereas I’d like to think of hybrid and hyflex teaching as one that allows for (forces?) innovative thinking about pedagogy.

I find it difficult to come up with new techniques of community building simply because it’s still difficult for me to imagine what the classroom might look like when some students are physically present while others are tuning in remotely.

However, I believe I can rely on some basic principles and adapt them once I have a better sense of a hybrid classroom.  The first day of class begins the long-term process of forming a group.  I introduce myself, my intellectual interests, my place at the college, and the reason I love teaching the course students are taking.  This fall, inspired by the “bring an object and discuss it” exercise we did for this course, I’ll ask each student to introduce themselves by telling the class about their favorite film.  This would be an add-on to my usual technique of asking each student in turn to tell the group their name, year in school, reason for taking the course, and one thing they want their classmates to know about them.  Perhaps I’ll substitute the favorite film question for the last one.

Because the first day can only ever be the beginning of a process, I would create a second category: the first two weeks.  A sense of community is built on everyone knowing everyone else, which, in my view, begins with names.  I play a name game in every course for the first several class sessions, which I believe could continue in a hybrid format.  It’s very simple, and it’s not my invention.  A randomly chosen student begins by stating his/her name; the next student says that student’s name and adds his/hers.  The next student does the same, but now with two names to remember.  The students at the end are rarely able to complete all the names the first time.  I repeat this, starting with a different student each time, every single class session until everyone gets it right.  After this, I usually ask students to show off their knowledge and hop about randomly, calling names and identifying classmates.  This takes only 5-10 minutes each class session for 2-4 sessions, depending on enrollment, but it is time very well spent, in my view.  There is no community if each student does not know everyone else’s name—and its correct pronunciation.  I might use NameCoach this time.

There are, no doubt, many techniques for maintaining a sense of community throughout the semester, but, frankly, regular intellectual discussion of course material is the one that works best for me and is one I will continue to rely on for this course in the fall, simply because it furthers course goals as it fosters community.  Eighty-minute class sessions devoted exclusively to discussion comprise anywhere from 50% of a course (every Thursday in “Japan on Screen”) to quite literally every class session (in, for example, a first-year seminar).  Knowing each other well and struggling together to come to terms with difficult and challenging course material is a time-proven way to build a sense of group solidarity.  As the professor, I count myself a part of that group, though my role is different.  In my experience this past spring, discussion in remote contexts worked almost as well to this end, providing the enrollment is relatively small.  I do not often break into smaller groups in the two courses I have this fall, though I do in others.  It is a very good technique for large groups (such as the cohorts in this summer course), but I have never had a class at Amherst with more than 24 students, so I don’t use it much.  When I do (e.g. “A Media History of Anime” and, especially, first-year seminars), I tend to scatter small-group discussion throughout the semester, changing the groups each time so that, hopefully, each student is in a group with almost every other classmate at some point.

Discussion is central to the learning goals of “Japan on Screen” (my focus for the summer course), as it is for every course I teach.  It forms a group, through regular shared dialogue, and furthers the aims of the course.  Given the nature of a film course, I generally lecture on Tuesdays and we discuss the film of the week on Thursdays (with those films accessed and viewed individually in the fall), with a couple of changes to the routine thrown in on occasion.  I would tell the students this fall the same thing I do in every course: I do not have a monopoly on interpretation, so discussion is the most important tool we have to work through and weigh interpretive options without the need to reach a consensus.

As I admitted multiple times here, I am having difficulty thinking about how strategies of community building relate to the modality of the course in fall 2020 because it’s difficult for me to visualize the hybrid classroom.  I might have benefitted more if the topic of community building were the last session of this summer course rather than the first.  Although there are technical issues involved in a hybrid classroom, my basic problem is an inability—at least right now—to visualize how physical and virtual spaces intersect.  To take a simple example, community is fostered in discussion when we can all see each other’s faces.  “Japan on Screen” is usually assigned to Fayerweather, which is good for Tuesday lectures, but not for Thursday discussions.  We have to move all the chairs into a U-shape so that we can see each other’s faces and the screen.  We move them into a U-shape every Thursday and return the seats to the lecture format at the end of the class session.  Since I, too, occupy a seat in the U-formation (though I do have to get up continually to operate clips from the podium), I can read the faces and body language of students (what were called in our recent synchronous session, affective qualities) to assess levels of engagement.  To stick to this single example, at the moment I cannot visualize or imagine the equivalent of the U-shape in a course with both physical and virtual constituencies, as well as the screen for clips.