subjug/iStock/Getty Images Plus
It’s a predictable part of every academic year at my institution: that time when we faculty are asked to submit course proposals and space requests. It’s a moment when dreams come up against the realities of classroom geometry, estimated enrollment and the solid edges of a calendar week. But the prosaic task of picking a classroom has hidden potential: It’s a chance to manifest a new pedagogical vision; it’s an instantiation of values in a time of profound change.
There can be little doubt that higher ed is grappling with remarkable pedagogical shifts amid competing ideologies. The information highways are alive with viewpoints on how to teach in the current era. Much of this chatter focuses on artificial intelligence, and a certain amount is enthusiastic buy-in about how to take advantage of its wondrous capacities. As a long-term low-tech educator, I’m much more interested in the other, quieter trend: how to seize this moment of disruption to regain human-centered classrooms.
Here’s what we can do: Start with classroom selection, and build our practices from there. In my 20 years as a faculty member in math and linguistics at a public liberal arts college, I’ve occupied a distinctive niche within the space-request landscape. Our campus process involves selecting options from a checklist of equipment we require in our classrooms, such as A/V podium, projector and the new catch-all “Zoom ready.” My selection? “Blackboard.” Sometimes I make do with “whiteboard.” And sometimes through team teaching I find myself in a computer lab, a science lab, the campus forests or farm. But on my own, I prioritize board space.
Needless to say, the low-tech classrooms have not generally represented a crowded corner of the room-choice ecosystem. However, amid the current technological reckoning, this may be poised to change.
Especially in light of the recent Canvas outage, momentum is gathering among educators who see a need to push back against the rising tide of educational technology. While the proximate cause is often to try to ensure that students (and not machines) are the ones doing the learning, there is something else going on, too. After decades of incremental change, the pandemic and the dramatic rise of AI have helped refocus our attention on what exactly has been lost amid all this technological progress.
Physical classrooms are now being recognized as spaces that can provide sanctuary from the ever-present screens that follow us around through most of our lives. Learning with peers is a way to learn not just new facts but new perspectives, to test out ideas through focused discussion and problem-solving and to practice human relationships. All these skills are important—even (and especially) for students whose careers will be dominated by technology use or development. Further, at a time when even our attention is commodified, research shows that putting phones and laptops at a distance increases focus and retention of learning. Add to this the mental health and social learning benefits of person-to-person collaboration, and the case for lower-tech classrooms becomes clear.
So, how do we actually unplug? I’ll say it again—it starts with choosing your classroom. (Or classrooms: Over the years I’ve seen impressive examples of computer scientists and digital artists stepping out of the computer lab for select class sessions to discuss a reading or to use blackboards to mock up an algorithm or design.) So, while recognizing that different fields of study and different class sizes will have different needs, here are some basic classroom features that have helped me resist ed-tech encroachment over the years.
Accessibility
Low-tech classrooms (like their high-tech or virtual counterparts) need to be built for everyone. While some digital technologies increase accessibility, they can also create new and frustrating barriers (the struggle for accessible PDFs and screen readers is an ongoing case study). Thus, instructors scaling back on the use of digital technologies can expect different access issues to arise. For example, are the boards accessible to wheelchair users? Is the font large enough on in-class handouts? How will a neurodiverse student population be supported in engaging with collaborative learning?
Universal design for learning guidelines are based on extensive research on both physical and virtual spaces, but digital platforms include the added complication of rapid evolution, which means an ever-shifting set of accessibility challenges. Over all, the goal of reducing digital distractions leads us to scale back on screens, but it doesn’t imply removing tools needed for equitable engagement.
Bring Back the Chalk
My love of blackboards isn’t so blind that I believe everyone feels the same way; there are good reasons so many faculty have moved to PowerPoint over the years. But even if you still need projection to show some complex images that don’t easily reduce to stick figures (which I use regularly, to the tolerant amusement of my students), you can still look for a side-by-side arrangement with plenty of board space for you to add notes, comments or keywords in real time. Boards keep us honest about timing and help students see our thought process as we develop a line of reasoning. Abundant board space allows students to work together in small groups, creating diagrams, solving problems, discussing theories, sketching outlines. One of the best parts of a low-tech classroom is that it more readily gets students on their feet and into conversation.
Movable Furniture
A classroom with rearrangeable tables and chairs greatly expands your options over a traditional auditorium. I like to start with some lecture using the board and then ask students to reset the room so they’re facing one another in groups of four or so and engaging with a task that builds on the lecture concepts. If you don’t have time to move furniture, just adopt the group-work configuration from the beginning; students can rotate their chairs to see the board for any lecture components.
Breakout Spaces
Along with the setup of the classroom, consider what nearby spaces may be available. Are there adjacent rooms or seating clusters in the hallway? Giving students a chance to scatter in small groups and then reconvene can be a way to address the immovable-furniture scenario, as well as the trials of a large, echoey classroom, which make it harder to focus on a small group conversation.
Take It Outside
Choosing the right classroom is important, but getting out of the classroom can be even more impactful. Experiential learning is one of the high-impact practices highlighted by the American Association of Colleges and Universities for its outsize role in student engagement and learning. Some subjects lend themselves to field trips more readily than others, but it’s a good time to get creative in this regard: In an era when technology is constantly encroaching on our interactions and relationships, group trips are especially beneficial not only for learning, but also for developing a learning community.
Rethink Your Learning Management System
Strictly speaking, learning management systems (like Canvas and Blackboard) are digital tools used outside class, so they could still be compatible with an unplugged classroom. Nonetheless, they’re my next horizon for reduction or elimination. Here’s why: Canvas consumes an inordinate amount of my and my students’ time. Achieving the same learning goals through analog homework and tangible readings is, at least in my fields, entirely possible and allows us all to spend more time off screen. Furthermore, LMSes turn coursework (mine and students’) into a numbing sequence of daily checklists, eliminating the sense-making inherent in creating (and interpreting) the arc and rhythm of the course more holistically. Finally, bringing paper homework into class and discussing it in person is a fundamental strength of a low-tech classroom, and one I don’t want to relegate to online platforms.
For myself, and probably for most educators, the interaction with students is a central joy of our profession. Not only is human-centered work joyful, but it is what we owe our students. Especially at a public college like mine, we are responsible for preparing our students to thrive and contribute to their communities. Of course technical skills are part of that. But just as crucial are opportunities to use their minds independently, to engage collaboratively with peers, to develop capacities such as judgment, communication and empathy. We can provide these opportunities by using classroom spaces to refocus our attention in an overwired world.
With this in mind, I invite you to take a walk around your campus—look into classrooms you’ve perhaps never considered before. What activities can you imagine there? Will students feel invited to work with one another within that space? Can the screens be left rolled up and the computers shut down? If so, get your request in early. These choice locations could be (will be!) at the vanguard of the new wave of unplugged pedagogies.
