I am sick of college icebreakers. Each syllabus week holds the same monotonous introductions. We mentally rehearse what we will say when the professor points to us, and in doing so, we subconsciously tune out and ignore our classmates as they introduce themselves. This defeats the purpose. The same three or four words are drilled into our brains. “Name, major, hometown”. (disgruntled sigh) When professors begin a semester like this, I have no choice but to compare them to the notoriously dull teacher in Charlie Brown.
For some students, this small talk may be adequate. Simple introductions seem to be a good baseline for academic spheres to be courteous yet cordial. It familiarizes you enough with the kids you’ll be sitting in class with for fifteen weeks. But it’s weak, boring, and unstimulating- all of which we should try to avoid as we pursue degrees in higher education.
I sat in my new public speaking class for the semester and unpacked my backpack. I was already on my second coffee, drained and dreading yet another stiff round of introductions. As I sipped my cold brew, I thought to myself, “Please let this be a good professor”. A man with an impressive salt-and-pepper beard entered the room and removed his coat and scarf. His aura was academic yet jovial. He smiled warmly and proclaimed that he wanted to open class with “Speed Dating”. I blushed. It was “strictly platonic” he added, chuckling. I scanned the room to notice eyes beaming, teeth grinning, chests laughing.
The left side of the room would alternate so that every five minutes, we were seated in front of a new classmate. We would have to ask each other the questions written on the front board. These were not basic questions such as “What’s your favorite color?” Instead, these subtly personal questions allowed us to gain a deeper understanding of the student sitting across the desk from us. Within moments, I knew the fears, hopes, and dreams of strangers who were no longer strangers. There were some light-hearted questions sprinkled in, my favorite being “What are you currently reading, watching, and listening to?” My answer being textbooks for class, Love Island with my roommate, and anything Luke Combs.
I’m not sure my professor understood the impact this “icebreaker” had on me. I was anxious that I would feel uncomfortable during the activity. Although I am outgoing and talkative, I recognize that not everyone is appreciative or receptive to this energy. As I moved around to different seats in the classroom, I was impressed that all the students were warm, welcoming, and eager to share and listen. I’ve noticed that humans can pleasantly surprise you if you’re willing to give them a space to be understood.
I will never forget this icebreaker. In a world of digital noise, this exercise was refreshing. It made me feel valued as a human being and as a student. The professor could have disregarded “idle chitchat”; rather, he elected to dwell in the art of good old-fashioned human communication. This also exemplifies the small school charm that reverberates through St. Bonaventure University.
Though I am new to the course and Professor Scott Sackett, I can tell that this will be an unforgettable semester. I am immensely grateful for the energy and comfort that Professor Sackett created within just the first few moments of class. As he noted, “We are not classmates, but teammates who play on the same team with the same common goals.” I hope that all universities, schools, and workplaces will take a page from Professor Sackett’s book and learn to actively celebrate and encourage human connection in a world growing increasingly more divisive.