In Search of the Perfect Zoom Class

ALAINA BENSCHING—THE SANTA CLARA

Perks and perils of our new online reality

Zoom University is off to a roaring start, and my peers and I have arrived at a consensus about our new online reality: it works, and it’s worse.  

The first part of that statement is remarkable. I showed up late to my first Introduction to Voice Zoom to find everyone on screen waving their arms in big circles as they sang “lo lo lo lo” to piano scales. Once I settled in, I was surprised to find that singing over Zoom worked—never mind my off-key commotion reverberating through the house. In my religion class, the professor has heavily used breakout rooms, the whiteboard tool, the chat, virtual hand-raising and class-wide discussion questions with incredible success.

In the business classes I’m taking, lectures, discussions and live practice problems have worked seamlessly. It’s easier to be on time to class, and seeing the professor mark up the PowerPoint slides in real-time is helpful. 

It’s also a great bit of fun when a dog, cat or mom strolls across someone’s screen. One friend reported a professor had used a virtual background of a Lucas Hall classroom while trying to show the class their dog. However, Zoom couldn’t distinguish between the background and the dog, so it appeared that the dog was floating and shifting through walls. 

Moments like these bring a light-hearted charm to our weighty reality. We can laugh through this together.

Zoom classes have notable drawbacks as well. I’ve noticed that spending all day online is exhausting and distracting.

Several times last week, I spent my evening staring at the wall, unable to look at a screen or anything else after 12 hours online. If you’re feeling drained by using Zoom to attend class and socialize with friends, you’re not alone. Straining your eyes at a screen while frequently switching tasks is a recipe for fatigue. I’ve found that regular walks outside, exercising in the middle of the day and trying to do some chats as phone calls helps to ameliorate the effects of excessive screen time.

Zoom classes are also a recipe for distraction. Listening to programming jargon or dissecting an author’s argument are not nearly as enticing as Twitter or texting friends. As a seasoned university student, I’ve honed the skill of paying attention only when necessary while making smart-sounding comments to display my engagement. It’s coming in handy. Professors are doing their best to make classes worthwhile, but learning happens by applying knowledge, not absorbing it.

In my machine learning class, the professor lectures for 90 minutes straight while the class follows along—in theory. Several times, his pleas of “Is anyone listening?” have been met by dead silence. But I’m not complaining—I use the opportunity to make breakfast and clean my room. Joining the 8:30 class from bed with the camera and mic off is easy. Too easy.

Certain subjects just don’t work virtually. Theater, natural science labs, hands-on engineering and ceramics are suffering. Even in discussion classes, screens can only replicate part of the rich social environment of live human communication.

With these drawbacks in mind, I have also noticed countless examples of creativity and ingenuity for making Zoom classes more engaging. Based on my own experience and conversations with about 20 peers, here is my recipe for the perfect Zoom class.

First, make the class as personable as possible. Everyone should turn their screens on, and the professor should try to have a quick check-in with students. Many classes have gone asynchronous, with professors uploading pre-recorded lectures and assigning work. Larger public universities seem to be almost exclusively taking this route, and I understand that students in different time zones may be unable to access class at the regular time. But everyone I spoke with agreed that asynchronous classes were much less valuable. Engagement with peers and the professor is an essential element in making learning a communal process.

Second, add variety. Listening to a long lecture is boring in person and even more so over Zoom. Fortunately, small group discussions in breakout rooms, showing short videos, having students solve problems in real-time, and class polls are all effective ways to mix up the routine and keep people’s attention. Variety is the antidote to boredom.

Third, be efficient and end early. Virtual meetings force a kind of succinctness that isn’t possible in person. Pauses and tangents feel awkward. Rather than feeling the need to fill class time, professors can stick to an agenda for spending their time and let students get on with their lives. If class time ends early, students can remain on the Zoom call to speak one-on-one with the professor and ask more personal questions.

The best Zoom classes combine these three elements: individual engagement, variety and efficiency. 

Three weeks into Zoom classes, I’m surprised at how smoothly most of them are running. No Santa Clara professor or student asked for this, but given the circumstances, people are innovating and adapting swimmingly. We can complain about the loss of a traditional college experience, but let’s pause to declare in unison: thank God for Zoom.