Why We Can’t Afford to Wing It With Class Discussions Anymore

The problem with letting student dialogue “just happen” and what to try instead.

Jul 09, 2025

Tired of group discussions going off the rails or nowhere at all? This post shares the system I created to help students listen, reflect, and engage without having to do all the heavy lifting as the instructor.
This is the second post in my five-part “Systems for Teaching” series this July. New here? Here is the link to part one.

Photo by Corbin Bell on Unsplash

The day after the 2024 U.S. presidential election, I walked into my classroom, unsure of what to expect.

I was teaching an experimental course on emotions in politics for the first time. That day, I deeply understood how right I was to pitch the course to the chair of my department during what I assumed would be a contentious election season.

My students had spent the previous weeks steeped in news alerts, tense conversations, and rising political rhetoric. I teach at an institution that draws from every congressional district in the U.S., which means my students’ political identities, values, and lived experiences span a wide spectrum.

I’d prepared a reading for the day just in case they wanted to carry on with “business as usual.”

But that morning, it was clear we needed something else. So, I gave each student an index card and asked them to write down one reaction, question, or feeling they had about the election—anonymously.

I let them know I’d read each one aloud, and we’d move through them together.

What followed was one of the best organic classroom discussions—I mean, truly meaningful learning experiences—I’ve had the pleasure to facilitate during my time as a faculty member.

Students asked thoughtful questions, named their emotions, and—most importantly—listened.

They considered one another’s perspectives, asked follow-up questions, and disagreed without spiraling.

They showed up with more curiosity than certainty.

They made room for each other.

They practiced something we rarely name in higher ed: civic courage.

Leading this discussion reminded me that our classrooms are not just sites of content delivery—they’re also rehearsal spaces for democratic life.

I’ve repeated this point time and time again: university classrooms are one of the few places students can practice communication with structure and care.

Heck, I even add a learning objective related to communication and developing interpersonal skills to every syllabus I create.

Still, on that day, I didn’t just understand the intellectual value of these exchanges—I felt their emotional and civic weight.

The Civic Skills Higher Ed Often Ignores

Despite this potential, most college classrooms in the U.S. still aren’t built to nurture students’ civic capacities. We focus on argument over listening, persuasion over presence, and critique over curiosity.

And the gaps start early.

Across the country, only 16 states require a half-year civics course with a test to graduate from high school. Eight require none at all.

By the time students arrive in our classrooms, they’ve had wildly uneven access to civic education—and even less experience navigating emotional conversations with mutual respect.

Many have been taught to speak, but few have been taught how to listen.

Meanwhile, the spaces where students are most practiced in “sharing opinions” are often social media platforms that reward speed, certainty, and performance. But the deeper civic work—perspective-taking, intellectual humility, being changed by what you hear—rarely gets practiced.

That’s why I’ve shifted my approach to group discussions in my courses.

The Classroom as a Civic Commons

Early in my teaching career, most of the training I received on classroom discussion focused on risk management: how to prevent things from going off the rails, how to avoid conflict, and how to de-escalate tension.

I understand why. As a Black woman teaching about politics and identity, I’ve experienced firsthand how emotional moments in the classroom can get flattened, misread, and—eventually—used against you.

But over time, I realized I didn’t want to teach from a place of defensiveness.

I wanted to lead.

Now, I treat class discussion as a shared civic responsibility and design my courses accordingly. I don’t assume students know how to listen or disagree skillfully. I tell them outright that these are learnable skills, vital for democratic life. And I make time to help them develop and exercise those muscles.

The System That Changed Everything: Roles for Discussion

After teaching multiple courses where students either shut down (out of fear of being “wrong”) or were dominated by one or two vocal peers, I realized I needed a different approach.

I wanted to help students:

Understand that discussion is co-constructed
Recognize that participation can take many forms
Practice the listening and speaking that deepens our collective learning

I developed a set of discussion roles—clear, rotating assignments that help guide student contributions in real-time.

They’re printed on small table tents and introduced at the start of the semester, but I also revisit them when energy levels drop or the discussion starts to spiral.

In this Friday’s paid post, I’ll share the six most essential roles I assign to students and share a link to the actual table tents I created and use in my classroom. As a paid subscriber, you can download the file and adapt them to work in your classroom this fall.

In this post, I’ll introduce three of these roles.

Three Roles That Shifted My Classroom

🔹 The Conversation Starter

This student’s job is to open discussion—not with a yes/no question, but with a prompt that invites complexity.

They might ask:

“What assumption is the author making here?”
“Is there another lens we could use to approach this?”

I coach my students on how to approach crafting a thought-provoking question. I explain that the goal is to spark curiosity, not lead the class to a predetermined conclusion. On several occasions, students have privately shared that they find it challenging to come up with good discussion questions. We, as instructors, definitely know the feeling.

🔹 The Diverger

This role gives students permission to interrupt groupthink gently.

They might say:

“What might we be missing if we all agree with this perspective?”
“How would someone with a different lived experience respond?”

The Diverger isn’t there to be contrarian—it’s about widening the lens, making space for voices and perspectives that are currently missing in our classroom discussion.

🔹 The Summarizer

This student listens for a natural pause, then reflects what’s been said—no spin or commentary—just:

“Here’s what I’ve heard so far…”

This role helps build students’ listening stamina. It also helps ground the group before the conversation veers off-course or loses steam.

What This System Fixes—and What It Doesn’t

Let me be clear: no system will make classroom discussion smooth every time. Students still arrive with habits, hesitations, and ideological commitments.

Conflict will arise.

So will silence.

But a system like this distributes the labor. It protects the energy of the room—yours included—and invites students into a collaborative and cooperative learning process.

It teaches students that classroom discussion is co-constructed, not something to consume passively.

And in politically charged moments, it matters that students understand the critical role they play in making a classroom discussion generative and productive (or not).

Teaching for the Democracy We Want

At the end of that post-election class, one student reflected:

“I wish more people were doing what we did today—talking about hard topics in a civil way.”

That moment still sticks with me nearly eight months later.

It sticks with me because it reminded me that when we give students the structure and trust to participate meaningfully, they can (and often will) rise to the occasion.

If this reflection helped you reimagine how group discussion can feel more co-created and less draining, I’d love to hear from you. What role are you most curious to try in your classroom?

Notes From A Work Friend™

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