D iscussion sections seem essential for impersonal large classes because instructors want a space to interact with students directly. We imagine that discussion sections provide that space.
But what we imagine is often different from reality. Here’s how the reality was described by one student newspaper:
“There is the other discussion section, the one more common in most classes here at the university. This discussion section seems more like a bad blind date than a class: Awkward silences, filled only by an occasional, often irrelevant comment that just makes everyone roll their eyes and glance at their watch.”
That view isn’t unique: When students are asked about the contribution of discussion sections to learning, their reactions range from tepid to dismissive.
Colleges and universities are under increasing pressure to teach more, cheaper, and better. Discussion sections not only aren’t very effective, they are expensive.
But there is another option: the “virtual section.” I’ve used it for years, and it has made me a much better instructor.
Reconsidering the traditional approach. In large introductory courses, there is a certain level of enrollment — maybe it’s 70 students, maybe 110 — where classroom discussion becomes impractical. The instructor is limited to being the “sage on the stage” on Mondays and Wednesdays, so another class session is scheduled on Friday for small-group discussions.
When I taught at the University of Texas in the late 1980s, our combined “American and Texas Government” class met with 1,400 students in the main classroom, and 26 teaching assistants, each with two sections. That’s about 26 students per “small group,” but that was how it worked.
Doing more with less is not very rewarding. But if we can do better with less, we can serve our students’ needs and our administrators’ wishes all at the same time.
The rationale was that TAs got experience “teaching,” and that the students loved sitting in hot, crowded converted closets, bored out of their minds. OK, that makes it sound bad. But I was never convinced that the students — or, for that matter, the teaching assistants — got that much out of the experience. The goal of the TAs was usually just “to get them (the students) to talk.”
But leading a group discussion is not easy, and the TAs hadn’t had much practice or training. Learning can take place even if students don’t talk, and talking surely doesn’t equal learning.
And discussion sections are expensive, even when they work. The use of sections can actually limit class size. In many cases, there isn’t much difference — from the professor’s perspective — between a lecture class of 120 and one of 300, but the size is constrained by four factors:
- Instructor ability to perform well in a large class setting.
- An auditorium or classroom with size, intimacy, and acoustics conducive to effective pedagogy.
- Enough teaching assistants to meet discussion sections.
- Enough break-out rooms at attractive time slots to house effective discussion sections.
Of course, small isn’t always better, either. I recently visited a medium-size state university that prides itself on having “small classes.” Each semester my host department offers up to 12 separate versions of its main intro course. None of the 12 are larger than 25 students; some have only half that number — for a total enrollment in the 12 courses of about 200 students. When I asked who was actually teaching those courses, my host reluctantly admitted that only three of them were taught by tenure-track faculty, and the other 10 or so by adjuncts. Given normal turnover among contingent faculty, at least three or four of the adjuncts teaching the course were always, in each semester, doing so for the first time. It was as if the department was always starting over, rolling the rock back up the hill.
The university had a nice 200-seat auditorium. At least two of the tenured professors were master instructors, and could do that “rock star” version of the intro class for an audience of 200. Suppose the department had (plausibly) counted the large class double in terms of the instructor’s course-load. Instead of 12 versions of the intro course, the department could have offered one large intro course, plus 10 small upper-division classes of variety and depth.
Alternatively, some of those 10 adjunct positions used to teach the intro course could be consolidated into a tenure line, with consequent improvement in the quality of the department and the connections students are able to create with permanent faculty members.
Why not do that? Given the emphasis on small classes, the faculty was concerned that the “rock star” version would rob students of any human-scale experience. Discussion sections would have been the usual answer, but my hosts cited as constraints the third and fourth factors listed above: The department couldn’t afford enough TAs to meet with discussion sections, and didn’t have enough rooms to house them.
They saw no way of getting out of this trap: They had to spend money on lots of adjuncts to teach the intro course, leaving a shortage of upper-division courses, but they couldn’t teach one large version of the intro course because they couldn’t afford TAs.
This result is quite common. But if it doesn’t work, if it’s expensive, and if we all hate it, why do we do it? It reminds me of Odysseus, watching a similarly fruitless effort. Are we really doomed to teach the same class, in many sections, over and over again? Or can Sisyphus stop pushing the rock?
Sisyphus becomes a rock star. A “rock star” course with virtual discussion sections is the answer.
Look, today’s students are grossly overscheduled, with commitments to clubs, activities, work, and athletic team practices and travel. Most of them have a computer, even if it is in their phones. That gives them access to a world of high-quality specialized, educational, entertaining, and informative digital content. It takes the form of videos, podcasts, recorded lectures, and animated features that explain or illustrate fundamental points about a wide variety of subjects.
In an intro course that meets three times a week, rather than have a discussion section on Fridays, the entire Friday section could be virtual. The students don’t meet for class; the students meet the material. Students download the selected audio or video resources from a file stored on a learning-management software system, or from a URL on the Internet linked from the syllabus. Afterward, the student takes a quiz administered by the system, as a means of checking performance and giving credit.
The virtual aspects of the section are important, both in terms of access to content and the way that evaluation is conducted. The learning-management system provides gated access to the resources, so that only members of the class can use them, protecting against “fair use” concerns. The system also keeps track of who listened, for how long, and when, so that taking attendance is fully automated. Students can schedule the virtual section at their own convenience, and can go back to the material later in preparing for an exam or working on a paper. Finally, the system administers, grades, and records the grades in a “smart” spreadsheet, making the incorporation of weighted participation grades seamless and transparent. Students get immediate feedback on each question on the quiz, and the instructor and TAs can build in substantial feedback for wrong answers.
I see at least three advantages to virtual sections:
Flexibility for everyone. Students can learn at their own pace, in their preferred location, and using their own methods. Trips and illness are no obstacle, and the time available for learning expands to fit the student’s own schedule. And instructors can add interdisciplinary elements, especially material outside their direct expertise, to their course material.
Technology can be seductive. Thanks to effective podcasts or videos, students may find that they actually enjoy the subject, and can work deeper into the material. I have had quite a few students “complain,” only half-jokingly, that I have “wasted their whole weekend,” because they found a podcast or video so interesting they listened to it several times.
They’re cheaper. There are substantial economies in sharing the digital resources, and monitoring their use by administering follow-up quizzes. A link in a syllabus, or on an email, can send 12 students — or 1,012 students — a reminder to access the digital material, and the learning- management system can later administer the quiz, grade it, and record those grades, all untouched by the hand of either the instructor or the TAs. In short, much of the drudgery of grading can be entirely automated, while giving the students in the class access to excellent teaching materials.
Doing more with less is not very rewarding. But if we can do better with less, and use existing resources more wisely, we can serve our students’ needs and our administrators’ wishes all at the same time. The virtual-section solution accomplishes two goals: (1) It facilitates much larger introductory classes in ways that don’t sacrifice — and may enhance — student learning and enjoyment, and (2) the resources that are freed up create a space for a much better variety of creative and challenging upper-division course offerings.
We don’t have to do more with less; with virtual sections, we can just do more.
