Journal of Academic Development and Education JADE Issue 11 Summer 2019 | Page 17

(e.g. they have not had a ‘classical education’, so these stories are not familiar to them), and finally creating
an original argument about Keats’ use of mythology. There is no substitute, however, for students working
through the poem for themselves. ‘To instruct someone…is not a matter of getting him to commit results
to the mind. Rather it is to teach him to participate in the process that makes possible the establishment of
knowledge’ (Bruner, 1966, 72). My role within the seminar classroom, then, is to facilitate student discussion
and debate. Class discussion allows students to explain their ideas to their peers, seeking evidence within
the text to support their views and being confronted with a variety of perspectives on a piece of literature.
As a seminar leader, allowing them to talk through their ideas without micro-managing the discussion is key.
By the end of the session I would hope that students didn’t just feel like they understood what the poem
was ‘about’, but that they understood the process of literary analysis and the development of an argument
and supporting evidence.
Researchers agree that class participation is an essential part of active learning (Provitera McGlynn, 2000,
16). Oral participation has been shown to ‘enhance cognition and generate a positive affective influence
on learning’ (Russell and Cahill-O’Callaghan, 2014, 71). Active learning increases motivation and improves
interpersonal and communication skills (Yaylaci and Beauvais, 2017, 559). The latter is particularly important
in this economic climate. Russell and Cahill-O’Callaghan note that ‘communication skills’ were ranked as
the most important graduate skill by potential employers (63). For students in the Humanities, written and
oral communication are among their most important ‘transferable skills’. Therefore, one of the challenges
of seminar tuition is ensuring that everyone speaks, and therefore reaps the benefits of social, active, and
constructed learning—and this is often a gendered problem.
In 2014, the number of girls seeking a place at university in Britain was more than a third larger than that of
boys (Kirkup, 2014) and in Europe, women account for 59% of undergraduate degrees across all subjects
(Carter, 2017, 3). At university, women are more likely than their male counterparts to earn a good degree
(Weale, 2016). Given these figures, we might assume that women’s needs were being met in the classroom.
However, some classroom practices continue to disadvantage women.
In 2016, an external examiner for Keele’s American Studies programme noted that female students
were underperforming in class participation marks. These marks (which account for 10-20% of many
of Keele’s English and American Literatures, English, and English with Creative Writing module marks)
reward attendance and contributions to classroom activities and discussion. The majority of students
studying literature at Keele are women (approximately 70%), yet in most cases they contribute less to class
discussion than our male students. My own seminars reflect this divide. My current third-year module
(which carries a 10% class participation mark) is 84% female, and yet the male students dominate open class
discussion. Yaylaci and Beauvais (2017) define this as ‘internal exclusion’: ‘having little voice or influence in
conversations—despite the formal presence of disempowered group members—because of their minority
status or reduced social standing’ (560). Merely getting women into the classroom, ensuring gender parity,
or even teaching in fields in which female students are in the majority, is not enough to ensure that women’s
voices are given equal time to men’s within the classroom.
Researchers point to a number of reasons for the gender disparity in classroom speaking time. As James
and Drakich (1993) suggest, ‘differences in behavior result primarily from differences in expectations and
article #1
17