We have now wrapped up the coursework portion of the Fall semester at William and Mary Law School, so here's an after-action report from the two full courses which I taught in a "hybrid" style (some students live, in the classroom; others attending via Zoom live; and still others with the option to attend via the Zoom recording). The two courses: (1) Land Use; and (2) Eminent Domain & Property Rights.
Overall, it went much better than I think nearly everyone else expected. When I say "everyone else," that is because when I posted photos of the "distanced" classroom that the law school set up in the adjacent indoor Tennis Center, the reactions were mostly dubious, or even scornful. I had much less doubt about teaching and learning in a non-typical environment. The in-person option, I believed, was essential, and anything less would likely be ... less.
So off we went into the adventure.
The semester confirmed my initial thoughts: learning objectives met, both for remote and in-person students. Weird vibe, but surprisingly not too bad. Importantly, no one got sick, despite meeting indoors for two months. Others report a similar experience (see "No 'folly,' no 'Potemkin Villages,' no 'wildfires'--a semester of in-person hybrid legal education," from Professor Derek T. Muller, and "Reflections on the Fall Semester of Online Classes, and Thoughts for the Future," from Professor Josh Blackman).
If any pictures sum up the Fall semester, it is these. The first, above, one of our large-capacity classrooms, scrubbed up and wiped down, ready for the hybrid experience. And a massive industrial-sized tub of sani-wipes by each exit.
The next, below, the main lobby of the law school. Normally a bustling, crowded place. This fall, a virtual ghost town. It was definitely strange, being in a nearly-empty building, with ID checks at the door. But hey, it worked.
We started the semester fully remote, 100% Zoom. Here's my remote rig, complete with high-quality mic (essential), and a kid-seat boost for the laptop/webcam to bring it up to eye level and avoid that "here's me looking down on you" view.
It was acceptable, but by no means ideal. (Note: multiple monitors and even multiple computers made it much better.)
After a couple of weeks 100% online, the in-person option opened. My Land Use class was small enough that we could use one of the law school classrooms. But Eminent Domain and Property Rights had a pretty sizeable registration, so we were given the option of the Tennis Center, which had been converted to a distanced law classroom, filled with multiple cameras, a tech podium, projectors, and a booming sound system.
Yeah, it looked and felt weird, but we all got used to it very quickly.
Great credit is due to the law school administration for having the guts to go forward with a plan that included an in-person option. Some law schools went "full remote" and even reported success. But I think there's just something about learning this stuff in-person that the remote experience just doesn't quite capture.
I understand why some students opted to remain away -- and I shall admit some trepidation about traveling and attending myself, given that I do fall within at least a couple of the "risk categories" -- but after I canvassed the students and asked whether they planned on attending in-person and many responded positively, I just couldn't accept going 100% remote and staying away.
Several of the students told me over the course of the next two months that they really missed the classroom experience, and some even reported that they selected their curriculum based on the availability of an in-person option.
Once we were into the swing of in-person classes, even our larger Eminent Domain and Property Rights class was able to transfer venue from the Tennis Center to the law school.
Check out the list of courses that were using the large-capacity classrooms (normally, these classes would likely be held in one of the smaller seminar rooms). It was a luxury having a ton of teaching space!
As in the Tennis Center, the tech set up in the law school classrooms was mighty impressive. Zoom, touchscreens, online whiteboards, multiple cameras from which to choose, microphones everywhere, a projector so the folks at home could see the ones in the classroom (and vice-versa).
And, of course, a school-supplied box of dry erase markers, face masks, and hand-sani.
Office hours and student conferences were 100% remote, so we quickly became conversant in the capabilities of Zoom. Would I have preferred in-person face-to-face meetings? Of course. But this remote method, I must admit, had some advantages. We could share docs without printing, and the scheduling was very easy.
One of the nice parts about the in-person option was that it allowed us old(er) timers to use employ our old school skills. Like a real live whiteboard. Low tech, for sure. It might have not shown up well on the home-viewers' screens, so after each class, I took a picture of the day's whiteboard and posted it online.
One method we used to keep the conversation going was to have one student designated as the "lead counsel" for each case presented. They knew ahead of time that they were "on" for that day, and could prepare for the discussion. That way, instead of cold-calling and potentially having dead air, we were guaranteed a lively back-and-forth. Might that mean that the students not so designated for a particular day would simply not do the readings and slack off? Maybe. But I didn't experience that, and we had a lot of "second chairs" chiming in with questions, comments, and thoughts. Besides, any student who pays big bucks for tuition but doesn't do the readings is a fool. Law school is a professional school, and professional behavior is assumed (or so I told them).
I chose this approach for three reasons. First, I've never gone to court and had the judge randomly select one of the attorneys to argue ("hey, you in the back, what's this motion all about?"). We all know ahead of time that we're lead counsel that day, and this method replicates that. Second, being singled out in the Zoom environment is oddly daunting, and I think puts the student even more on the spot than an in-class cold call. With the students spending multiple hours per day on Zoom, why not choose a discussion method that lets just a bit of the pressure off? Finally, the level of conversation could be much more intense when you know that today is your day and there's no excuse for being ill-prepared.
The Tennis Center even had a traditional whiteboard. Here, the actor portraying Susette Kelo in the film "Little Pink House" looks on at my whiteboard skills with some skepticism (we were watching snippets of the film, and commenting that day).
I never did quite master the full array of available tech tools. Sometimes, I felt like Mr. Sulu at the helm of Star Trek's Enterprise with all that tech laid out before me.
Low tech vs. high tech. Some days, it felt better just to ditch the tech and scribble stuff up on the wall.
What it looked like, just before class started. If only that plexi-shield was a teleprompter, I would have sounded much better, I'm sure.
The final day's sign-off. Am I sure I want to log off? Not really.
