Diary of a Gen Z Student: Why does presenting in front of a class feel like being hunted for sport?

Jane Cowan: 'Now, I’m in my final few weeks, and I’ve (thankfully) given my final university presentation. It wasn’t as tragic as some of my earlier presentations, but I was glad to be rid of it all the same.'

When I first came to college and was introduced to actual class participation, I was not impressed. I had gone through most of secondary school with an attitude of avoiding participation at all costs.

If I thought the teacher was scanning the room, ready to call on someone, I would suddenly need to go to the bathroom, make intense eye contact with the floor, or take an absurdly long sip of water.

There was nothing unusual in that. Most of my peers did the same thing. And I thought I could easily take this approach with me into college. Oh, how wrong I was.

In my first year, I dreaded sitting in seminars and tutorials with only a handful of other students as a lecturer went around the room asking everyone to contribute to the discussion.

This was not the education system I, or most other Irish students, were familiar with. You could instantly pick out the students who had completed secondary school in other countries.

They were totally unfazed by the expectation to participate, even enthusiastic about sharing their ideas. This was particularly true of students from the US. I was in awe of their confidence to offer up their perspectives; it wasn’t something that had been expected in my secondary school.

There is something so ingrained in the psyche of the Irish student that tells us to participate too much is to look like you’re confident in what you’re talking about.

And well, you really shouldn’t be at that.

Maybe it’s a relic of colonialism that so many of us have a pathological aversion to authority.

Because volunteering to answer the questions of a teacher almost feels like a betrayal of your role as a student.

The teacher should be able to sense your resistance. In school, we were basically let away with that. I gave no presentations and answered questions only when asked directly. Ideal.

Jane Cowan: 'The teacher should be able to sense your resistance. In school, we were basically let away with that. I gave no presentations and answered questions only when asked directly. Ideal.' Picture: Moya Nolan

But the lack of verbal communication skills we develop in secondary school becomes glaring the moment class presentations are introduced. It’s an uncomfortable experience for both the speaker and the audience. They are by far my least favourite mode of assessment.

Standing up in front of your class, presenting some research, wincing every time you are asked a follow-up question. It’s not that I can’t do them; I just hate doing them. 

I get awkward and a bit flushed and forget basic things like my name and what my presentation is about. Give me a written exam or a research essay any day.

The sentiment is certainly shared by my peers. We will talk about presentations like they’re a violation of our basic human rights, like the kind of thing you could make me do to get state secrets out of me. In fairness to us, it is kind of a vulnerable experience.

Of course, you’re usually being graded on it. So, your class is bearing witness to your GPA formation in real time. Everyone is trying their best.

And to be seen trying feels like you’re exposed. Because you could also be seen failing. There’s something very vulnerable in openly wanting to do well. And presentations bring all of that into focus.

The fear of these college presentations is not shared by all students. My US peers, especially, seem to treat presentations like any other class. They waltz up to the top of the room, not violently clutching onto a script, not nervously tapping their foot.

Jane Cowan: 'The fear of these college presentations is not shared by all students. My peers who completed secondary school in the US, especially, seem to treat presentations like any other class.'

They don’t look like deer in headlights if they’re asked a question about their presentation. They happily volunteer answers, even when they’re not sure that they’re correct.

It’s kind of astounding to witness, if I’m honest. I think I speak for a lot of Irish students when I say that we envy their relaxed approach. 

If I’m asked a question, I will react like I’m being hunted for sport. But they will react like they’ve been asked a question. I didn’t know that was an option until college!

Now, I’m in my final few weeks, and I’ve (thankfully) given my final university presentation. It wasn’t as tragic as some of my earlier presentations, but I was glad to be rid of it all the same. 

I probably wouldn’t feel like that if secondary school had desensitised me to class participation. And that’s probably something that future students would appreciate.

But I was born too late to be part of that cohort. I’m just glad to have college presentations behind me.