Embodied Participation and Those Who Dread it

To Speak, or Not to Speak- is that Really a Question?

Class participation, in general, can be rough. If you’re the teacher, and you’re lucky, your class is a fruitful Socratic ideological marketplace. If you’re a student, and you’re lucky, a few oral heroes take on the weight of perpetuating an active discussion. Either way, it’s a given that participation is necessary to a vibrant classroom environment.

Is it?

And is it really fair to suggest that a lack of that certain chutzpah that encourages people to lean forward and talk first invalidates internal ideas and concepts?

Through our reading of “The Rhetoric of Communication,” by Cartel, we identified embodiment as one of the “commonplaces” of participation- which is to say, an area where practices, concepts, and themes intersect. Embodied participation surpasses verbal communication in that it exists in the physical space of the classroom and engages multiple facets of being; physical ability, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and one might even suggest mental ability. Embodied participation arises from what Cartel defines as a “script.” Much like a script for a play or a movie, physical and verbal participation in the classroom often relies on the evocation of a mental ‘script’ that is primarily, if not totally, comprised of social norms and societal expectations for action and oration.  But what if you don’t have a ‘script’ readily mentally available? Or what if you were given a “part” so to speak, in the script that you physically or mentally could not fulfill?

Issues with the Script

Cartel identified issues with the idea of the “performance” of participation in the classroom almost immediately, stating that “the participation requirement is often built upon certain assumptions about “who” those bodies are, what those bodies can and cannot do, and where those bodies come from.” Assumption is the keyword in this statement. The requirement of embodied participation, or the presupposition that embodied participation equals good participation is not only inherently ableist, it’s simply wrong. Why would a student’s mind or work be devalued because of a lack of embodied participation? It’s still the same mind, it’s still the same work- it’s simply quieter.

Assigning value to one particular kind of participation is common- but why does it happen? After experiencing the other side of the classroom equation as a teacher, I suppose it’s easier for my ‘teacher brain to more readily acknowledge (and internally, give thanks to) those that participate both physically and verbally.

But my ‘student brain’ still clicks on when I see eyes widen in fear as I present my students with group activities that require them to get up and move around, or turn and talk to each other. I remember how difficult it was for me, as a student with severe anxiety, to open my mouth or leave my seat the second class commenced.  I remember how many teachers became frustrated with me, certain that the reason for my terminal quietness was because I simply wasn’t invested in my education.

I know for many, if not a majority of students they are invested in classroom learning and participation; but how can participation be improved to encourage education instead of terror?

Strategies

Critel suggests that the integration of technology is one method of encouraging engaging participation. Almost every college student now has at least one device that can connect to the internet; utilizing these devices to learn trivia or use flashcards with one another might make the activities seem more “game-like” and less stressful.

Something that I have found always takes pressure off students mentally and physically is the “turn and talk” method of groupwork, rather than assigning partners and having the students move seats. I simply tell the students to turn and talk to 2 or 3 people seated near them during group activities. Students feel more comfortable, which leads to discussions both inside and outside of group activities. Since I’ve used this method, students are more relaxed with one another, as they are familiar with the students that sit around their ‘unassigned-assigned seats’ so to speak.

Conclusion

Generally, I believe the death of good participation lies in assumption and coercion. Forcing people to speak creates a negative association with the act of public speaking itself, and I believe it’s best to avoid that direction at all costs. Similarly, assuming a person is disinterested because they are quiet devalues both their ideas and to an extent their personhood. No one has more value than another based on the volume at which they speak.

-Aurora Z. Barrett

 

3 thoughts on “Embodied Participation and Those Who Dread it

  1. Hi Aurora! Your blog post is awesome! I am very interested in the idea of Embodied Participation and what it really means. I love how you tie tech to embodiment in participation. You have some very good ideas! Great job!

  2. “… the death of good participation lies in assumption and coercion.” Aurora, I couldn’t agree with you more. The chapter TRoP and wrote my own post on, similarly criticizes the ethics and fairness of evaluating participation based on how students “look” and act in a class. It’s completely performative! And if it’s performative, how closely, really, are our students engaging with our curriculum?

    Students didn’t come to university and enroll in business, technical, and science communications courses for the purpose of being graded on their acting capacity. That’s why in my classroom, I similarly try to engage students with the “turn and talk” method; firstly, though, I model that little Socratic seminar that you allude to in the beginning of this piece. I like to sit cross legged on the table in front of them and ask them, wherever they are in the classroom, to turn their chairs a tad so that we’re angled in a circular shape. Also, I made it my prerogative to LEARN THEIR NAMES. Asking a student, “Aurora, what strategies that we’ve learned are still kind of confusing for you?” empowers Aurora to answer me, specifically. But, phrasing it in a way that assumes she may not feel like an expert yet, gives her freedom to admit she IS confident, or freedom to admit she isn’t. And, inevitably, when one student admits to being a bit confused, the rest join the fray. I’ve been able to identify some legitimate gaps in our classroom knowledge this way, and it’s way less painstaking for both me and for them when they know that their participation can look/sound/feel like, “I’m just not really sure right now.”

  3. I completely agree with you when you note that “I believe the death of good participation lies in assumption and coercion.” Like you, I would much rather take the time to understand the needs of my students as opposed to forcing synthetic conversation. Great ideas here!

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