Teach like a champion 3.0: 63 techniques that put students on the path to college - Lemov Doug 2021

Technique 35: Call and response
Building ratio through questioning

Call and Response has two parts: a teacher asking a question or sharing information and the whole class responding aloud in unison to answer the question or repeat the phrase—for emphasis or to help encode it in memory. If you are doing Retrieval Practice, for example, sprinkling in a few opportunities where everyone responds increases memory building.

Teacher: What do we call it when two very different characters are put side by side for emphasis?

Class: Juxtaposition!

Asking your class to answer or repeat in unison can also be a great change of pace that can expand participation and build energy and momentum. You can see Christine Torres using it at the beginning of the vocabulary section in her Keystone lesson. She introduces a new vocabulary word and asks her students to repeat it as a class.

Christine: The first word we're going to learn is the word implore. Implore on two—one, two …

Class: Implore!

Christine: And the word “implore” means what? Read it for me, please, loud and proud … [taking hands] … Jovon?

Why use Call and Response here? First it gives every student the opportunity for a bit of practice. The practice isn't exactly Retrieval Practice but rather pronunciation, which is important, especially with vocabulary. If students aren't confident saying a word, if they don't know how to pronounce it, they'll be much less likely to use it or attend to it as they are reading. Students tend to skip over words they can't pronounce.¹⁴ So you'll notice then that every time Christine introduces a new word the whole class practices saying it, quickly and efficiently. Then, as they use the word, they're more confident and fluent in using it.

There are other reasons to use Call and Response here as well. Christine's class starts with a bang. The energy and enthusiasm are high. You might watch her and think, Well, if my kids were that enthusiastic, I'd teach like that too, but the converse is actually more true. Her students are enthusiastic because of her teaching moves. There is, for example, a connection between Christine's use of Call and Response and the fact that practically every hand in the room goes up when she asks for a volunteer to read the definition. For one thing, everyone has already participated. More broadly, people respond to norms and Christine has made the norm of participation visible and universal. The more consistent and visible norms are, the more they influence people. Everyone is involved and also sees everyone else around them positively engaged in the lesson. The natural thing to do, then, is to continue to match the norm of enthusiastic engagement that's been set. You're more likely now to raise your hand.

But there's even more going on in this moment of Call and Response, I'd argue. Humans have evolved to rely on what has led to our survival as a species. Those things have as much to do with our ability to coordinate and build mutual bonds as with anything we do as individuals. We survived by forming cohesive productive groups, and as a result we not only yearn to be a part of said groups, but also feel comfort and belonging when we are within one. “The brain is a social organ,” Zaretta Hammond writes in Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain. “It has a ’contact’ urge, a ’desire to be with other people.’” Every society on earth sings, for example, in part because singing is a way of becoming a part of the collective. We sing together and join our voices. The emotions of doing so are often surprisingly profound. This is why singing—and choral group singing specifically—is so often a part of worship all over the world.

Hammond also clarifies something fundamental about American—and Western—societies. We are ardent individualists. She cites Dutch psychologist Geert Hofstede's Cultural Dimensions Index, which includes a ranking of every country in the world according to its level of individualism in society. The United States is at the far end of the spectrum (with the UK not far behind). We are the most individualist—or the least collectivist—society on earth. This has its benefits—rugged can-do, get-it-done self-reliance is generally a good thing—but it also raises some questions. The first is what it is like to engage in the schools of an anomalously individualistic society if you come from a less individualistic one. Part of being responsive to students from other cultures is understanding that they have a more group-oriented view of the world. All that me and you can seem strange when you are accustomed to we.

A second question is what wisdom there is for our ardently individualistic schools in a more collective approach. Collective knowledge, group reliance, and identity derived through shared endeavor are in fact good things for learning. They make our schools more inclusive and increase the sense of belonging.

As I discuss in Habits of Attention, to feel a part of something is one of the most profound motivators in the world, as Daniel Coyle points out in The Culture Code. And we rarely change our minds about something we believe to be true unless we feel a strong sense of connection to the person sharing information that might cause us to change, Jonathan Haidt explains in The Righteous Mind. Our beliefs are a reflection of who we feel like we belong with. We take our identity from our community even if community is often fleeting in our society.

Call and Response is a tiny piece of the fabric of classroom culture, but done well it can create moments that build a sense of togetherness. Doing things in unison reminds us that we belong to a group. This is why Call and Response is motivating and why it is inclusive. It briefly but viscerally makes everyone in the room a part of something collective. Just maybe these moments feel a bit like the choral singing that is universal to societies and religions around the world.

It's worth observing that Call and Response can evoke this feeling only to the degree that the response reinforces togetherness, that is, students are truly in unison. That's why in-cues are so important. Christine's is the same each time she uses it. It's clear, crisp, and distinctive. If it's not clear what she is asking students to do and the cue is ambiguous, students might hesitate to follow through. Or not follow through at all. And then the momentary power of “all of us with one voice” is lost.

“The next word is caustic. Caustic on two—one, two …” Christine says, elevating her voice to make the cue distinctive in another way. The response is crisp and energetic again because the cue is consistent.

More on the Call and Response In-Cue

In-Cues

Call and Response is about universality. All students should respond or the message is perverse and the benefits lessened. But for students to participate enthusiastically, they must confidently know when to sing out without fear that they will be the only one singing. To ensure this is the case, use a specific signal—often verbal (“Class!” “Everybody!” “One, two …”) to indicate that students should respond. Such a signal, called an in-cue, allows everyone to answer together and with confidence. Clarity of signal also lets you prevent called-out responses when you want to call on a student.

Because in-cues are critical, it's worth geeking out on them a little. There are several types of in-cues to consider.

Count-Based In-Cue

Count-based in-cues are highly effective in that they are distinctive—you use them only for Call and Response and they make the timing of the response clear.¹⁵ Because they have a short countdown (Christine says, “On two: one, two …”), they give students just a moment to prepare and ensure that everyone is likely to be on cue.

Group Prompt

Using a collective term for the whole class can also work, especially since the prompts often remind students of group membership: Saying “Everybody” or “Class” reminds students to expect universal participation. Should you fail to get it, you can simply repeat the prompt with slightly greater emphasis: “Everybody, please.”

Nonverbal Gesture

A third kind of in-cue is a nonverbal gesture: a point, a hand dropped, a looping motion with the finger. These have the advantage of speed and don't require you to interrupt the flow of the lesson. They can also be challenging, in that the tone has to be just right or they can seem schoolmarmish. Also there will be times when you might not have everyone's eyes (that is, finishing up notes or simply momentarily distracted), and then you run the risk of losing students in the response.

Tone Shift

A fourth kind of in-cue employs a shift in tone and/or volume. The teacher increases inflection on and often the volume of the last few words of a sentence to imply a question; students recognize this as a prompt and respond crisply. This is often the most efficient form of Call and Response; in the long run, it's often the easiest to use—it's seamless, fast, and natural—but it's the hardest to use. It's easier for students to miss a cue and they will only recognize the in-cue if you use Call and Response consistently and frequently. If you don't feel immediately confident and comfortable with Call and Response, consider beginning, as many teachers do, by mastering a simpler cue.

Many teachers think of Call and Response as a technique that is applicable among younger students but less so among older students. They imagine both the ease and benefits of second graders, saying “Nice work, Cheyenne!” in unison as they do in the video Akilah Bond: Keystone or “Nailed it!” as a group to celebrate Akheem's work in Sarah Wright: Tio Luis.

But while it looks different with high school students, it is still valuable, as you can see in Sadie McCleary: Means of Participation. She calls on a student to explain what the Celsius temperature scale is based on, and when his response suggests that he is unclear about the boiling point of water, Sadie recognizes this as a key piece of information students will need in long-term memory. She uses Call and Response to cause them to practice recalling this piece of information, to better encode it.

Her cue is a group prompt—“Tell me”—and she uses it to allow her to clearly identify moments when she'd like students to call and respond throughout her lessons. Her Call and Response moments are fairly infrequent. This is perhaps part of why they work with older students; she doesn't overuse them. But it also means that the cue has to be clearer. Mixing in the odd Call and Response with high school students helps students focus attention and remain actively engaged. It's a bit of novelty and so draws attention. Evolutionarily, what's new and unexpected gets attended to more closely because in our ancient history as a species, it could contain survival information. This phenomenon is known as “novelty bias” and it tells us that even if Call and Response itself is not the most substantive way to interact with classroom content, judiciously done—as a variation rather than a theme—it can help build attention. But it also explains why Sadie quickly transitions away from Call and Response after one or two interactions. The benefits from novelty bias erode quickly.

Here's something seemingly obvious that both Christine and Sadie have in common. Their students are repeating something important. In Christine's class it's the vocabulary word she hopes to familiarize students with. In Sadie's class it's the freezing and boiling points of water.

This is important to note because Call and Response is one of those techniques that can have a bit of a catnip problem. It feels good to see your students engaged as a positive cohesive group. But this sense of momentary gratification also makes it easy to overuse the technique or to apply it in less optimal ways.

One interesting scene in Robert Pondiscio's outstanding How the Other Half Learns¹⁶ involves Success Academy's CEO Eva Moskowitz observing a class with a group of school administrators.

Students are calculating the number of volleyballs in a group where the total number of balls is known, as well as the number of balls that are not volleyballs. The teacher calls on a child named Dmitri to discuss his work.

· “The total is thirty-two,” he concludes.

· “The total number of what?” she pushes.

· “Um … of … the …”

· “The total number of …?” she loudly signals to the class to answer.

· “Balls!” some, but not all, students call out.

· “The total number of …”

· “Balls!” This time the whole class answers in unison, each child seeming determined to yell louder than the next.”

· She goes back to the child who hesitated. “So, these thirty-two, Dmitri, are the total number of …”

· The whole class again answers for Dmitri. “Balls!” they yell. It's deafening.

Moskowitz has seen enough and walks out. “You have an endemic problem with stupid shouting and call-and-response. Get them to a more intellectual place,” she tells [the principal] back in the hallway … “They know what a ball is. They've known what a ball is since they were toddlers.” Moskowitz is visibly irritated.

I agree with Moskowitz's assessment. With any “technique” there is the risk of overuse or misapplication. You get a hammer and suddenly everything looks like a nail. Multiply that risk times ten for Call and Response because of its appeal to teachers. It feels good to get a vibrant and upbeat response. The temptation can be to use it again and again. Suddenly it's a bit of a compulsion—overused with limited intentionality—that can easily devolve into poor execution. As with any technique you have to remain aware of the downside and answer the concerns that Moskowitz raises: For what purpose am I using it? What am I having students repeat and why? Am I overusing this technique?

Call and Response with Reading

In a recent lesson, Eric Snider of Brooklyn was reading an article describing the characteristics of science fiction with his students. He began reading aloud with the expectation that his students would follow along, reading on their own at their seats. To help students feel motivated to follow along with him, he used a “Call and Response spot check.”

“Some key facts to be mindful of,” he began, reading, “Most science fiction writers create believable …” The next word was “worlds,” but Eric didn't read it. Instead he signaled to his students, most of whom chimed in “worlds!” This appeared to demonstrate that they were successfully following along. Eric, however, was concerned. “That was about 80 percent [of us],” he noted, walking to the overhead projector on which he was displaying the text. “We are right here,” he continued, pointing to the place in the text where he was reading. He then began again. “Most science fiction writers create believable worlds with familiar elements,” he read, continuing past the point of the original spot check. “Science fiction often contains advanced …” Here he signaled again, whereupon all of his students chimed in: “technologies!” Having used Call and Response to gather data on who was reading along, and to reinforce their importance of reading along, he could now continue to read, knowing that students were more likely to be reading with him.