In normal times, an audience of that size would be a sparse turnout for a venue that can accommodate more than 1,300. But due to the need for social distancing to prevent the spread of COVID-19, there are just 100 available spots scattered throughout the room, each denoted by a sticker. The rest of the seats, blocked by strips of blue tape, are off limits.
The young adults occupying these assigned seats are here for what, in the context of one of the most challenging semesters in the history of higher education, is a college student’s holy grail: a live, in-person lecture. While many courses on the Hill and around the country are being taught virtually, this one—COMM 1101, the introductory course required of all communication majors—is embracing what’s known as a hybrid teaching model. In addition to the fifty students in Bailey, another twenty-two are attending online via Zoom; two more, located abroad in far-flung time zones, will watch the recorded lecture later.
It’s about a third of the way through the semester, and the topic at hand is the importance of conducting ethical, unbiased research. Up on stage, ProfessorSahara Byrneis wearing a plastic face shield as she talks about the benefits and pitfalls of data gathering. “Social science studies are based on observations of people, and so we want to create naturalistic environments, or environments that tease out other explanations,” she tells the class. “We’re watching people or we’re asking them questions. . . . Then, after we gather the data, we try to look at it with an objective perspective on what it is saying to us. And to do that, we have to remove our personal bias.”
Byrne’s laptop sits open on the lectern; on the stage floor is a monitor that shows her what the Zoom students are seeing. At the touch of a key, she rolls a video to illustrate her point, and a scene from the sitcom “Parks and Recreation” fills Bailey’s giant screen. In it, Leslie Knope (the small-town civil servant played by Amy Poehler) is trying to prove that the public supports her pet project to build a neighborhood park—so she gets her staff to conduct a survey including such questions as, “Wouldn’t you rather have a park than a storage facility for nuclear waste?” As Knope explains: “If you want to guarantee the results of a survey, you design the question to give you the answer that you want.” When the clip concludes, Byrne sums up the lesson. “They need to get what they want, so they start asking less strict questions, questions that are biased toward their point of view, those types of things,” she says, “which is absolutely the wrong way to do the research.”
It’s a perfectly normal moment from a typical college class—and in these unsettled and unpredictable times, normalcy has become something to cherish. That’s true for Lauren Baldinger ’23, a transfer student from New York’s Westchester County who spent her freshman year at Syracuse University. As a sophomore new to the Hill, she says she’s treasuring the chance to be surrounded by fellow students in a physical classroom.
“It’s not quite the same as a normal in-person experience, but I’ve definitely met my peers that sit around me in class, and we do get to talk to each other; even though we’re six feet apart and wearing masks, we still get some interaction,” she says. “We get to go up to the professor and ask her questions, introduce ourselves. I think that’s really special—especially right now, when people don’t get that a lot.”
通讯1101是秃顶只是面对面的类semester; as Byrne notes, that’s the case for many of her Bailey students. And since it’s a required intro course, most enrollees are freshmen or transfers—meaning that it’s the only non-virtual class they’ve ever had on the Hill. “I felt very committed from the very beginning that I was going to teach it in person if I was allowed to,” Byrne says, speaking with CAM via Zoom in mid-September. “I don’t have any risk factors for COVID, and of course I trusted that there were going to be mechanisms in place to make that possible and safe for everybody.”
On top of the distanced seating—Byrne distributed a chart of Bailey’s layout in advance, and students chose the spots they’ll occupy all semester—those safety measures include a requirement that everyone in the audience wear masks and remain at least six feet apart from each other. (The professor uses a face shield when she’s onstage but switches to a mask for other interactions.) Wipes are available so students can sanitize their seats before and after class, and attendees are expected to maintain social distance while entering and leaving the building. “I definitely feel safe with the COVID precautions,” says Katrien de Waard ’24, acomm majorfrom the Chicago suburbs who’s taking the class in person. “I honestly feel safer on campus than I think I would have at home, where people aren’t taking it as seriously. On campus, everybody has to follow the rules because there are consequences, whereas in my hometown there are kids who don’t wear masks and just hang out.”