A noble defense of the participation grade
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Does anyone have any thoughts to share?
By AMBER DUHS — alduhs@ucdavis.edu
In my first quarter at UC Davis, I eagerly enrolled in a lower division humanities class which featured the same basic structure of many courses: a lecture a few days a week with a professor and a discussion section run by a teaching assistant (TA).
As I excitedly awaited my very first undergraduate discussion section, I imagined the invigorating conversations I'd engage in, the college-level discourse I was sure would engulf the room of young, bright students. I couldn’t imagine a world in which a class that was quite literally devoted to discussing course material would ever be stagnant.
My dreams, of course, were promptly and painfully crushed as the class was filled with silence instead of participation — awkward avoidance of eye contact instead of voices fighting to be heard.
This phenomenon doesn’t seem to be unique to any particular demographic; in both small and large lecture halls, and in almost every major, are those simply unwilling to participate — accompanying them, a general disdain for the all-too-common participation grade. And while slightly unpopular, I come to offer a humble defense of the poor participation grade: the modern-day babysitter of undergraduate students.
I don’t misunderstand that speaking in a 100-person lecture doesn’t hold much allure, or that we all have days where we have nothing to say on the course content. Dare I say, situations even arise where the course content simply isn’t interesting enough to keep a group's attention. But despite all of this, I think there’s immense value in simply participating, in manufacturing a conversation even if it is just that — manufactured.
In its most basic form, an academic discussion enables students to understand difficult concepts, dive deeper into interpretative questions or apply conceptual knowledge to a physical act (like in a lab section). To be valuable, a discussion section requires multiple students to interact with each other and engage in a flurry of questions and discussion. By refusing to participate, you’re not only robbing yourself of a potentially insightful learning experience, but also inhibiting your classmates’ ability to meaningfully interact with the material in the intended manner.
I won’t pretend that all discussion sections or lectures are created equally, or that every academic situation necessitates a drawn-out discussion that could have been a bullet point on a slide, but I will argue that it requires a certain amount of pride in your education to be willing to work through even the toughest (or most boring) of classes.
Participation grades often operate as a necessary incentive to get discussions rolling, or even to keep lecture halls full. If students willingly chose to participate, however, putting their best effort into their undergraduate education, I’d be willing to bet that the entire arrangement would cease to exist.
Your TAs don’t want to babysit your discussion any more than you’d like to sit in a chilly and awkwardly silent room for 45 minutes while they desperately try to connect with the class. What true and willing participation requires is something that can’t be forced with a gradebook stipend: true passion and care for the subject matter.
It’s easy to take advantage of, and thus easy to forget, that university is the only opportunity you have designated time to thoughtfully and meaningfully interact with subject matter experts at the tip of your fingers. So, I implore you to be the next person to get the ball rolling. Grapple with the material you’ve been assigned beyond just skimming through the reading. Take pride in your education and the content, and be the person who always gets the participation points.
Written by Amber Duhs — alduhs@ucdavis.edu
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