by Chessie Alberti & WAW

Dancing Through Chaos

To deal with the increasing chaos, precarity, and uncertainty of rapid change in a higher education environment that is impacted by continually expanding generative AI tools, lately we have both been drawn to embodied practices which feel untouchable by AI: Somatic Experiencing and social dancing.

As Woodrós explained in prior posts (here and here), they have been studying Somatic Experiencing (SE), a particular type of supportive, one-on-one conversation.

Recently, Chessie started taking lindy hop classes and learning about the role of “lead” and “follow” in partnered dancing. Dance is also deeply somatic and embodied. Social dancing requires the ability to connect and respond to another human body in a one-on-one context, noticing the cues of a partner and responding.

On Being Embodied

So, we found ourselves reflecting: what can we learn from these partnered embodied practices, like dance and SE, that can help us understand what makes our 1-on-1 work go beyond what an AI large language model can provide to a specific person? After all, AI doesn’t (at this time) have a body. Humans are essentially nervous system mammals, and our need for other people in order to learn is why we have universities.

In the Office of Academic Support, our programs use a conversational framework called the WISE model. According to the WISE model, academic support conversations move through four stages: Welcome, Identifying goals and approach, Supporting the learner, and Ending with purpose. When we think about what human-centered learning support services have to offer in comparison with AI programs, it makes sense to consider our embodied experience within the WISE conversation cycle.

So, how do we consider WISE as an embodied practice?

Looking with Both “I”s

As we reflected and brainstormed ideas for this article, we kept coming back to the power of identifying an approach for each conversation. We realized that the I in WISE has two features: Identifying goals (the one we’re most familiar with) and Identifying APPROACH. Somehow, we realized, the “Identifying approach” piece of WISE kept falling out of our training materials or ending up in the S (Support the learner) part of the cycle.

When we “Identify goals,” we ask questions like: Why is the student at office hours? Why did your colleague want to meet with you? What is the student hoping to accomplish in their conversation with a peer coach or writing consultant? This way, we draw on the knowledge the person seeking support has about the challenge they are facing and the knowledge of the person offering support, working together to clarify the goals.

The second part, “Identify Approach,” is essential but we find it is easier to overlook. We typically have trained students on this component as a part of the “Support” phase, but believe it adds values to clearly root it in the “I” of “WISE,” and conceptualize the different shapes this “Identify Goal” and “Identify Approach” phase of the conversation might take.

“Im-Bodied” Idea Generation

It is here, as well, that we make distinctions between what AI can do and what is possible with a body, a “soma” – what somatic information and moves are available to us as social animals interacting with fellow mammals? The state of each nervous system entering the conversation and the extent to which the two people’s nervous systems can sync up in a productive way also impacts the approach that will be taken towards the goal. Maybe a conversation needs to start with a little venting, then move into problem solving or brainstorming, and then narrow the plan based on that. Maybe laughter is needed to dissipate tension so that deeper thinking can be possible.

These two areas intersect to help determine the most optimal conversation shape: Who knows more about the relevant part? How much deep thinking can be made available in the conversational space?

The combination of deciding the two “Identifies” is important, and there is also variety in the way the I and S might interact (Identify Goals, Identify Approach, offer Support). Some conversations are linear, following the progression we’ve outlined. In others, there is an ebb and flow between the different components – it might not be clear when identifying goals shifted into choosing an approach or offering support, as they do have interconnected components. Additionally, the model can be recursive, with several small cycles of identifying goals, identifying approach, offering support, and repeating, starting with identifying the next goal. That’s a little theoretical, so let’s put it in an embodied context.

Conversation as Dance

Actually–the shape of this conversation starts to feel a little bit like partnered dancing. At the beginning of the conversation, one partner takes the “lead” role, and one partner unfurls as the “follow.” In social dancing, being a good “lead” is less dictator-like than one might expect; the “lead’s” role is more about creating a “picture frame” for the “follow” to fill in. The “lead” offers cues that are responsive to the “follow” and within their skill level. A “follow” responds to the “lead,” filling in the space offered by each cue. In gender-inclusive “Everybody Leads, Everybody Follows” dancing culture, partners may switch roles depending on what they’re trying to practice–depending on the goals of their dance.

We believe the WISE model of 1-1 support conversations connects to this “Everybody Leads, Everybody Follows” culture, and Woodrós also sees connection to wisdom gleaned from the Somatic Experiencing model. Responding to the reality of what’s accessible and important in that moment and prioritizing based on that – still informed by deep topical or self-knowledge – allows a more compelling conversational “dance” to unfurl. Each person brings relevant, deep knowledge (whether self-knowledge or subject-specific knowledge) and uses that to create the necessary “picture frames” that will evoke a solution aligned with the goals. The nervous systems of these two social mammals inform, support, and enable this complex and multi-tiered exchange, mixing explicit and implicit knowledge sources to optimize the conversation for these two embodied individuals in this particular moment.

AI Not WISE Enough

This is so different from talking to ChatGPT! There, you have to be the “lead” and the “follow.” You have to define both the approach and the goals you want. You cannot receive coregulation from ChatGPT to support higher level thinking, but instead need to have prepared that ahead. It’s a different kind of conversation than the one that is possible with another person. Of course, it’s also quite complex to facilitate one-on-one support as a whole person with a nervous system of our own: ChatGPT isn’t going to have days where it’s less regulated and less able to effectively empower someone (but how good at empowerment is it to begin with, really?)

Perhaps a person under stress is more likely to fall into a “saviorist” mentality or tell someone “just go here instead, I can’t help you,” but AI is known to be sycophantic, offer hallucinations, or do the math wrong. If we human facilitators can remember that we are embodied and attend to the needs of our own nervous systems to support co-regulation, we can access our strength. Embodiment provides us the magic of the dance, and it also calls us to have the level of self-awareness that an experienced lead brings to that medium.

In conversation, we can also adjust to best support the other person to be as skilled and confident as they can be that day, supporting their agency. This might mean doing the conversational equivalent of switching roles so they can introduce a favorite dance step, setting them up for a solo spin, or supporting them in learning a new set of dance steps they’re stressed about and unsure of by providing firm direction and then gradually reducing the pressure of that guidance as they increase in confidence.

AI can’t dance like a person can, so it’s worth the effort it takes to have high quality conversations. One-on-one conversations can shift the world.

by Chessie Alberti

Recently, I asked one of our writing consultants what they thought would be a cool idea from the Writing Center to “show off” in a blog post. What was something they thought worth sharing from the work that we do? What would they like to yell about from the rooftops?

Their answer was, “avoiding evaluative language.”

In the Writing Center, we make a point to avoid evaluative language when we offer writers feedback about their work. This stems in part from a desire to decenter grade-related language from our approach as peer consultants, but it also opens the door to all kinds of communication benefits and pedagogical advantages.

What does it look like to avoid evaluative language?

Here is an example of evaluative language we use in our training: “The organization works well.”

Here is the same example, revised to avoid evaluative language: “The organization of the essay makes it easy for me, as a reader, to see the connection between each paragraph topic and the thesis. I know, for instance, how the point about how parents know their children best supports the thesis that argues the federal or state government should take a hands-off approach to laws around parenting.”

In the revised version, the evaluative statement is reframed as an observation of what’s happening on the page and the impact it has on the reader. It includes information that goes beyond simple praise and moves into a detailed analysis of why the organization works well.

Avoiding evaluative language can be a high-impact mental exercise that benefits both the giver and the receiver of information.

Here are some helpful side effects that I notice when I deprogram evaluative thinking:

My feedback improves

It’s much easier to say, “That’s great! I love it!” than to explain and identify exactly why something is great and why it’s working. Non-evaluative praise requires more critical thought and more detailed feedback, which ultimately results in a higher-quality piece of information for the praise-receiver to learn from. Telling a writer, “Great work on this essay!” offers positive, effort-based reinforcement for their work, but “Your hard work paid off for me as a reader of this essay. The introduction drew me in, which made me want to keep reading, and each paragraph introduced new, intriguing information that seemed tailored to the audience,” tells them exactly what is working and why it’s working. More detailed feedback offers more information to consider next time the writer is working on an essay.

Constraints open doors

Although at first, it might seem harder to put in the critical thought required to determine why something is awesome instead of just that it is awesome, working within a constraint can be fertilizer for the brain. When given a constraint, instead of asking, “What should I do?”, I end up asking: “What can I do?” Sometimes, adding rules opens the door to creativity. No evaluative language? I can’t just say, “That’s awesome!” and leave it there? Well, what can I say? What do I notice about why something is “great” or “awesome”? When given a constraint, I might surprise myself by generating a more creative response.

Opinions can be the enemy of connection

Using non-evaluative language nudges me to decenter my opinion. When I evaluate something, I am bringing in criteria I have developed throughout my life that informs whether I think of something as “good” or “bad.” These criteria could be built on previous experience and existing knowledge that causes me to be an effective judge of something, and they can also be built on pre-existing biases and criteria unrelated to the task at hand. When I slow down to extract evaluative language from my response, I practice seeing the situation through clearer lenses. Instead of jumping in to evaluate, I often find myself practicing curiosity, asking more questions, and holding more space. It gives me time to listen and understand and to really connect with the person I’m in conversation with.

Accuracy goes beyond “good” or “bad”

Noticing and questioning an evaluative statement can help us dig in to what we’re really experiencing and prompt us to offer more accurate information. For example, if I ask you, “Hey, how’s your day going?” I bet you’ll tell me it’s going either well or poorly. But what if your day was kind of “meh,” and some nice things happened? Maybe in sharing that your day could have been better, it gets categorized into the “bad” column instead of the nuanced, complex, and more accurate category it really deserves. Avoiding evaluative answers can help us understand how we really feel about something.

Try it out

It might be impossible to avoid evaluative language entirely, but I would argue that the mental experiment of trying to avoid evaluative language as much as possible might make our lives–and our work, especially our critical feedback—much more complex and interesting.

Here’s the challenge I’ll end on: The next time you notice yourself describing something as “bad,” “good,” “nice,” “terrible,” and so on, try to replace the evaluation with an observation. What is it? What is it doing? How is it impacting you?

Be specific. See how this changes your thinking and the way you communicate with others.

Author: Chessie Alberti

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