\u201cI think if you want [the classroom] to be a space for sharing,\u201d I replied<\/a>, \u201dyou have to explicitly build trust to equalize the playing field.\u201d<\/p>\n These are big goals. Community. Trust. Sharing. Respecting privacy. Yet too often I fall back on some uninspired approaches to that first round of conversation in my class. For example, I sometimes ask students why they\u2019re taking my course. I am genuinely interested, but that question doesn\u2019t do much by way of bringing students together to form an incipient community. I do gain useful information by asking a student\u2019s year or major, but it\u2019s information I can glean from other places \u2013 my online class list usually has all of this. Yet I don\u2019t want to dump the icebreaker altogether \u2013 I think there\u2019s genuinely something valuable about everyone in the room getting to know one another better and talking to one another from the outset. And I know I can do better than \u201cwhy this class?\u201d because I\u2019ve done better before.<\/p>\n So what\u2019s worked? Here are three of my favorite icebreakers and the reasons why I think they work well. I hope they\u2019re useful to others; I know they\u2019ve been useful to me.<\/p>\n Have everyone share a story about part (or all) of their name, as they choose. Names are wonderful things in and of themselves \u2013 they often carry family history, or are statements about a caregiver\u2019s hope for their child. Sometimes there are incredibly funny stories attached; sometimes it\u2019s as simple as \u201cI was named after my aunt\u2019s favorite singer.\u201d What\u2019s key is that every story is going to be as unique as the name of a student.<\/p>\n Why does this work? Because it emphasizes that names are important, and students can assess how much information they want to divulge. I always model a story first \u2013 and since my last name (Denial) comes from a child left on the steps of a parish church in England in the 1740s whom everyone in the village denied was their child, I get to share something unusual and demonstrate the kind of trust I hope they\u2019ll emulate. Still, the game still works if they share very little \u2013 they share something that makes them unique, but without risking a lot.<\/p>\n Come to class with a prepared set of statements that may or may not be true for your class. \u201cI was born in the Midwest,\u201d is a great start. \u201cI don\u2019t eat breakfast,\u201d could be another. For the stepping version of this game, have everyone stand in a circle and read the statements, asking students for whom the statement is true to step into the middle. (You can also do the same thing by asking people to sit in a circle and raise their hand.) Participate yourself \u2013 make this an equal exchange of information. Make some statements fun, some informational, and others more weighty \u2013 you can judge what you want to do for each different class.<\/p>\n Why does this work? Because there\u2019s some kind of movement involved and a shared sense of low-level risk \u2013 often this game elicits laughter and groans and gives everyone a sense of being in something together. It asks people not to hide behind a laptop or a book or a desk, but to pay attention to each other, and to find commonalities where they might not have believed any existed.<\/p>\n Distribute blank notecards to everyone in the room, and colored markers if you have them. (I have students sit in a circle for this exercise, but you could it in rows if your room doesn\u2019t have movable furniture.) Stress that no one should write their name on their notecard, but instead write \u2018hopes\u2019 on one side and \u2018fears\u2019 on the other. They should then take a few moments to write down no more than three hopes for the class on one side of the card, and no more than three fears on the other. Collect in the cards, shuffle them, and redistribute to the class, asking people to return the card if they get their own.<\/p>\n Go around the class and have everyone read the fears on the card they\u2019re holding. Follow that by having everyone read the hopes.<\/p>\n Why does this work? Because students realize that they are not the only one to worry about grades or reading or research or sitting for long periods of time. They also learn what they each hope they can get out of the course, and those hopes are often tremendously inspiring. The cards are anonymous \u2013 no one is reading their own set of hopes and fears \u2013 so no one is personally admitting to any of the statements. It\u2019s a great exercise for creating community.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Icebreakers are standard practice in many college classrooms, especially on the first day of a new semester. In class after class students tell others a variety of pieces of information about themselves: their name, major, year, or something else \u2013 something unique, we often hope. Sometimes we deploy an icebreaker because we want to pair faces with names. Sometimes we genuinely want to disrupt the awkward silence of a first class. At our best moments, we\u2019re looking to start the…<\/p>\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/catherinedenial.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/pumphandle-537ss.jpg\")
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