An unfortunate activity
snowman, by Terry Freedman
One of the more unfortunate effects of lockdown and its concomitant requirement of online learning is the application of different kinds of ice-breaker. To be fair, most ice-breaker activities leave me cold at the best of times, but I was subjected to one in a training course recently which, as far as I was concerned, encouraged me to clam up rather than open up.
So what was this awful activity? We were asked to show an object on screen that meant something to us, and then tell the group what it was and why it was so special.
How I sabotaged the ice-breaking activity
Not so bad in itself, I grant you. But I’m a very private person, and I don’t like sharing things about myself with complete strangers. I don’t even like sharing the fact that I don’t like sharing things. That’s why I didn’t refuse to take part or raise any objections. I simply sabotaged the activity in such a way that only I knew it had been sabotaged. It was, one might say, a silent protest. It was my equivalent of the FAB — folded arms brigade. I didn’t do anything terrible; I just didn’t select an object that I cherished on a deep level.
The first time I had to take part in this so-called ice-breaker (with the same tutor) I grabbed a mug, as that was the nearest thing to me. I waxed lyrical about it for a minute or two, and for some reason nobody seemed very interested in it.
The most recent time I shared an object I once again grabbed the nearest thing to me, which was a pen. I’ve had this pen for several decades, and I’d be upset if I lost it — but it’s a pen: I won’t disintegrate emotionally if it disappears from my life.
Another objection
I do actually have a more serious objection to this kind of ice-breaker: it takes so much time. By the time you’ve shared an object and listened to everyone else talk about their object, 45 minutes have elapsed. Even working in pairs, the whole thing from start to finish, which includes explaining the activity, giving people time to find an object, sharing it, and then holding a mini-plenary at the end, would take 20 minutes if you’re lucky.
Also, what does it have to do with anything? You don’t know anything about the person at the end of it, you just know that they like a particular object.
Why do people take courses?
As far as I’m concerned, people don’t go on coursers to share objects or listen to other people share objects. They go to learn something, to socialise, and to have a good time. Therefore my ice-breaker activity is to get everyone to tell the group why they have enrolled on the course. This takes up quite a bit of time, but it has certain advantages:
Everyone gets to know a bit about everyone else, and why they are there. Last year, when I ran my course “in real life”, it afforded people the opportunity to connect with like-minded people over the lunch and coffee breaks.
It gives me the chance to get to know a bit more about them and what they hope to gain from the course. That means I can tweak the course a bit if necessary in order to accommodate their (legitimate) needs. (By “legitimate”, I mean reasonable. last year someone said that they thought the course would teach them how to use Wordpress, despite the fact that this was mentioned nowhere in the course description and we were in a classroom with no computers.)
In conclusion
It seems to me that people’s time is valuable. Spending it on exchanging stories about objects in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the content of the course, and doesn’t even help you get to know the other people much, is to be avoided.
If you found this article interesting, why not subscribe to my newsletter, Terry Freedman’s Books Bulletin?