Chapter 7: Carstens et al., 2016

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Chapter 7: Carstens et al., 2016

"Participating in class discussion can also facilitate an understanding of course content (Murry & Lang, 1997), a deep approach to learning (Kember & Gow, 1994), critical-thinking skills (Garside, 1996), and an appreciation for diverse perspectives (Brookfield & Preskill, 2005). Additionally, participation has been linked to increased motivation and self-reported gains in character development (Kuh & Umbach, 2004). Perhaps most important from the students' perspective, participation appears to elevate course grades (Voelkl, 1995)."

Carstens, B. A., Ciancio, D. J., Crabtree, K. E., Hart, L. A., Best, T. L., Trant, E. C., ... Williams, R. L. (2016). The effects of voluntary versus called-on participation on response rate in class discussion and performance on course exams. Scholarship of Teaching and Learning in Psychology, 2(3), 179–192. doi: 10.1037/stl0000061

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LAYLA

It takes me a whole month into the semester to realize that Dr. Hall's office is literally right next to Dr. Zabina's.

It's the last Tuesday morning of September when I step off the (finally, functional) elevator to the 5th floor of the psych department so I can meet with Dr. Z about my thesis.

It's a standard, fifteen minute check-in to confirm a couple things with him before beginning to select some parameters for my questionnaire about sexual attitudes and sociocultural backgrounds.

As I'm leaving the meeting, shutting the door behind me, I find none other than the enigmatic, ridiculously attractive Dr. Hall standing a few feet to my left, sifting through a keychain to unlock the adjacent office.

Those coppery-hazel eyes, a bright, captivating colour I've never seen before, flit up to settle on my face and I feel a warm tingle slide across my skin. He quirks a dark eyebrow and his lips curve up a little at one corner.

"Morning, Dr. Hall," I greet casually, willing my voice to sound normal and indifferent even though my heart-rate has skyrocketed.

"Morning, Layla."

Ugh... my name, in that low, husky voice... Heat floods my lower gut at the sound of it. It's way too early in the day to need a change of panties.

He swings his office door open but leans a little against the doorframe, gaze still focused on me. "How was your weekend?" There's something... dark sparkling in those eyes of his, something I could only begin to guess the meaning of.

"Productive, I suppose." I got all caught up on last week's notes and assignments, attended a couple meetings, helped put some postings out for research participants for Dr. Chandler's study that I'm RAing for. "Any luck finding an RA?"

He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. "Nope." I try my hardest not to blatantly check him out, which is really frigging difficult. Dark-washed jeans, white t-shirt, a loose-fitting black leather motorcycle jacket. He's carrying his helmet, the strap hooked crooked finger, and has a small black shoulder-bag slung over one arm.

I guess he really does ride his motorcycle to school.

With a crooked little grin he asks, "Haven't reconsidered my offer, have you?"

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