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The Real Cost of Participation

  • Sanjana
  • Apr 19
  • 3 min read

You’re sitting in class, probably bored out of your mind. The air conditioning blows a slight breeze across your cheeks. As you tune out the teacher’s lecture, the tapping of your pen becomes more apparent to you. Then, suddenly, the teacher poses a question to the class. The class remains silent, for just a tiny bit, till a hand shoots up.


The classroom shifts. The speaker steps into the spotlight, about to put on a performance. The rest of the class turn into an audience. Watching, listening, waiting, judging.


For some, the roles can be interchanged. There are instances where they take on a speaker role, and there are also times when they opt to step into the spotlight. However, with every performance, there are a slight handful that stick to one role. They either desire the spotlight, or loathe it. The role of the speaker is not uniform. Different types of people bring differing variations to the role.



One example are the background performers. They speak occasionally and share interesting insights on their thoughts. However, it can feel like improvisation under pressure to sound coherent instantaneously, under the glare of approximately 25 pairs of eyes. On top of that, there is also the risk of embarrassment. A slip up, a mispronunciation of a word, or even the act of putting your hand up. But they brave on, and answer the question. We also have the regular performers. They return to the stage again and again. They might have more to say, more interesting thoughts to drop, and a part of me also believes that the regulars have grown comfortable being seen and heard. The last group hesitate, not because they’re disengaged, but because the stakes feel too high for them.


This leads to my next point. The invisible labour of the audience. Silence isn’t necessarily bad. By being silent, the audience is listening actively, processing ideas, and even enabling discussions. Without the listeners, the essence of the speakers would be largely lost. There would be no listeners. Silence can be reframed to be attentive, reflection, and productive restraint.


At this juncture, I would like to rethink the setup of the current stage. In the performances we’ve seen so far (or at least, from my experience), I’ve noticed that it is always the same voices dominating and taking centre stage. While this is not bad, I would also like to bring to light others. Some might think really quickly and the words flow at immeasurable speed upon a prompt, but there are also some that need time to process information and gather their thoughts. There are also those that understand clearly what they want to say, but that is limited to the mind. They can’t seem to find the correct, or rather accurate words to string their ideas together, and this causes them to take a step back from performing. I’ve realised that not everyone is given the same script, or possesses the same comfort with the stage.


Thus, I couldn’t help but wonder, what if our stage was more intentional? Particularly, in the way we choose to share it. I’ve been in classes where simply speaking about the class material among your group mates counted as participation, and I think a large number of people will be able to benefit from more flexibility like this. What if instead of pushing the audience to the spotlight immediately, there were smaller rehearsal spaces prior. Rather than immediate performances of large sharing, there can be smaller ones first. These can manifest in the forms of group discussions, writing responses, and even a standardised 1 minute to gather ones’ thoughts. While this does not mean that everyone will naturally become more participative, it does aid in cultivating and encouraging a more inclusive stage for everyone.


Therefore, while it is fun and insightful to be in a classroom filled with performers, not everyone needs nor wants to stand in the spotlight for the classroom to come alive.

 
 
 

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