Knowing students’ names is important, but figuring this out is a game-changer for building classroom community.

Happy Wednesday, work friends. For many of us, it’s that time of the year when we are officially back on campus and preparing to teach our spring courses.

Over the last several weeks, I've seen several articles, books, and resources circulate that emphasize the importance of learning students’ names to establish a thriving classroom community. This is not a hot take for most instructors committed to inclusive teaching—you can’t build a community with students if you don’t even know their names.

While I agree that knowing students’ names is a critical part of building a thriving classroom community, I consider it a starting point toward the bigger and broader goal: creating a learning environment where students trust you, are willing to take risks, and are invested in what happens and classroom outcomes.

In my experience, the latter work requires much deeper and more deliberate effort on the instructor’s part.

In previous posts, I’ve written about teaching classes on identity, emotions, misinformation, and political polarization, some of the most difficult topics in the current political climate.

There are rarely “easy” days in my class.

Given this reality, I have to consider what it would take to create a community where students are 100% likely to disagree on hot-button topics and will often be deeply invested in their perspective, including the perception that they are correct and the other person is ill-informed.

I’ve failed enough at creating community in this context to offer others valuable insights into what it takes to get this right.

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that building a classroom community in which students move from passive learners to active community members requires us to understand why they are there, what motivates them, and what makes them tick.

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

One of the easiest ways to gather this information is by creating a student biography assignment that includes a question that asks students to share the three most important things to know about them.

If you’re thinking this question seems broad and vague and potentially scary (because who knows what they will choose to disclose???): you’re right.

Still, I choose this assignment every time.

I choose it because it has repeatedly given me information about my students that proved to be a game changer in understanding their passion (or apathy) in the learning process. This knowledge helps me to design more engaging classroom experiences and also provides context for students who may be struggling or need additional support.

I’ve been amazed by the trust I’ve built by asking this question.

Let me offer an example: The first time I used this strategy was when I prepped a new course titled “Race, Gender, Class, and Sexuality in U.S. Politics.” It was the first of its kind in my department, and it was following the murder of George Floyd in police custody. In short, both emotions and the stakes of our discussions were high.

That semester, I learned that one of my students was taking the class because they had an adopted Black sister who they wanted to offer support and better understand.

I would have never known this information without this assignment.

Can you imagine how different it is to approach a subject when you have a family member you want to understand better? The course material is no longer just an intellectual exercise; it’s deeply personal.

This context allowed me to talk with this student about their family member during the semester. It also provided important context for the student’s decision sometimes to step back and listen more during classroom discussions.

The benefits went both ways.

For this student, I was no longer just an authority figure in the classroom who assigned grades. I was the professor who remembered that they had an African American sister and cared enough to ask whether the course readings were helping them establish common ground.

Not every response will be like this. Like most adults, students vary in their openness and willingness to share tender parts of themselves.

Sometimes, I get dry responses that don’t offer much insight. That’s okay with me. I’ve learned that sometimes students will open up later in the semester after learning about their peer’s interactions with me.

Some might read this post and conclude that the advice is not relevant to them because the courses they teach don’t touch on topics like identity or politics. They might think, “I teach more objective courses like chemistry or calculus. This is advice for instructors teaching courses in the humanities and social sciences.”

I’d argue that having background information on students in this context is just as important.

For example, if you're teaching an engineering class, you could have a student in your class who enrolled after participating in a summer program where they worked with a professor who sparked their interest in the subject matter.

You would never have this information unless you asked or intentionally created circumstances for this kind of information to come up naturally. Yet, this context can help instructors forge commonality between themselves and students. It can also help them signal that everyone is in the right place and belongs.

With that said, there’s an important reality that must be acknowledged when asking this question: you may have students who share that they are not interested in anything.

These students might aspire to passing your course because they have other commitments or life circumstances that make a D in your course their best at the moment.

In this context, your class will never be their top priority.

This scenario underscores why this kind of information-gathering is so important.

As instructors, we often want to extend olive branches and assist students who seem to be struggling. However, the reality of a classroom community is that some students may lack the capacity and the desire to contribute. Gathering this information empowers you as an instructor to adjust your expectations of students (and yourself) and devise a plan that enables the classroom community to flourish, even in the presence of those who cannot engage fully.

How might you adapt this strategy to fit your disciplinary context and teaching style? What kinds of information would be helpful for you to know about students? Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.

Until next time,

Brielle aka Your Cooperative Colleague