When a class gets too small, the students start acting like ‘siblings in the back seat of a car. There is simply no way for the cantankerous kids to get away from one another.’
– Malcolm Gladwell, David and Goliath [57]
In David and Goliath, Malcolm Gladwell explores how we perceive advantage and disadvantage throughout our lives, and turns many assumptions on their heads. One is the perceived advantage of a small class size.
Can small be too small?
Throughout my educational journey, my schools claimed class size like it was a prized medal:
- high school: average class size, 13
- college: 9:1 student-teacher ratio
- graduate school: statistics not available (but it was small, too!)
The worst class I ever took (for a variety of reasons) was a high school geography class. Class size: 4.
We were entirely too small. The teacher had not taught before, but the class had been just as bad the year prior with a veteran teacher. It was all on us.
We goofed off.
We plotted and planned.
We delayed assignments.
We came in late. We left early.
We played games.
We crafted a “class project” that involved going to the river (where I broke my toe and we watched a classmate “disappear” under the downtown rapids for a good minute and a half. On purpose.), and somehow managed to make it “academic.”
We weren’t really misbehaving, but we were scheming. We were like the siblings in the back seat of the car. I can probably count on two hands the number of school days we actually had a lesson, because we almost always had a way out.
Are small classes always bad? No, certainly not.
The point: Gladwell is right, sometimes small can be too small. But we sure had fun!
