There’s tremendous variance in risk tolerance in the United States right now, and higher education is no exception. Some press for online/distance/remote education for the Fall 2020 term and maybe beyond, perhaps indefinitely until there is an adequately-effective vaccine for coronavirus made widely available. Others push to reopen and return to as much a sense of “normal” as is feasible, the sooner the better.

I won’t rehash all the debates or the points, except that I find myself in the middle of it all. I’m cautious about all the reopening plans, but I have to say that I’m also eager to return.

I’ve had my toe in three different universities in the last several months. Each had different approaches, but each spent agonizingly long periods of time consulting with, among others, faculty in determining reopening plans. (It also distinctly highlights the privilege of faculty positions, where months away from campus and much consultation are conditions for return, instead of, day, grocery store employees or delivery drivers, who essentially showed up to work throughout the pandemic without such luxuries.) All reached different solutions. Not everyone agrees, of course (and one need only browse Twitter or read media reports), about the solutions. But I’ve found institutions to be as accommodating as possible while considering a wide variety of needs—students, staff, faculty, and the public, among others.

The opportunity to return to the classroom this fall is a new challenge but one I’m embracing. I thought I’d briefly sketch my “hybrid” approach and its planned implementation this fall.

(By the way, I cannot offer enough praise for Professor Jessica Erickson’s tireless and comprehensive look at remote and physically distanced teaching over at PrawfsBlawg. It is essential reading!)

My law school has a “hybrid” approach where it will be one week in the building in person, one week online. First-year students will be in the building for odd weeks, and upper division students will be in the building for even weeks. They’ll alternate for online courses the other weeks. (Some courses are exclusively online to accommodate some students and faculty, too.) It allows for greater physical distancing and more effective use of classroom space, while allowing some of the in-person familiarity and camaraderie that online-only models lack.

It’s caused me rethink how the class looks—not just to think about speaking through a mask to other masked students (but, I’m grateful to see their entire faces online every other week!), but how to develop a rhythm of the semester making the most of both types of learning.

I’m teaching Election Law with a capped enrollment of 20 students. (That cap was quickly reached when it was announced my class would be partially in-person—the student demand for in-person course offerings is high!) I’ve decided to turn the semester into six two-week units (feasible as I develop my own course materials).

The first week will be an online introduction with readings and discussion.

The next two-week “unit” will be a topic, say, redistricting, or race and federal power over voting rights, or something like that. The first week of that unit is the in-class portion, with cases and background readings and discussion. I’ve found that this is the toughest part online—it’s hard to have a conversation, back-and-forth, etc. without being in a room together.

The second week is online. Some of the readings will be built around more contemporary topics (including 2020 topics), which, I think, will be easier to engage online and more naturally build upon what we’ve already done in-person (with better rapport). The last day of that week will be a practice problem or set of problems applying what we’ve learned, with breakout groups to test out a new hypothetical and its application. I’m sketching out a legislative drafting exercise, a litigation strategy session, a practice recount, a political ad vetting exercise—in short, some opportunities to get into smaller groups with more interaction, breaking up the monotony of online experiences, and providing some engaging, contemporary material.

I confess, this is exhausting work to develop and really limiting opportunities for other work this summer. But I am eager to see if it’ll provide better learning opportunities for everyone. It might be, of course, that this plan is blown apart by a surge in coronavirus cases—in which case, well, some of the in-person discussions would revert to online, suboptimal but perhaps necessary. And when we can return to “normal,” maybe some more of these exercises will become a routine part of my classroom experience. But it’s a reason I’m eager to return to the classroom—cautious, yes, and aware of risks, but looking forward to a new term and new opportunities to engage.