The Goldilocks Hybrid and Its Two Dysfunctional Siblings

We offer three flavors of writing instruction at my college, each with its own personality disorder. First, there’s face-to-face: two hours, twice a week, the old-fashioned “sit in a room and pretend we’re a community” model. Then there’s hybrid: one in-person meeting supplemented by a sleek online spine. And finally, we have asynchronous online, which is technically a class but spiritually a self-guided pilgrimage through Canvas punctuated by optional Zoom sightings of your professor, like glimpsing a rare bird.

Last place is easy: asynchronous. It’s not a class so much as a bureaucratic scavenger hunt akin to DMV traffic school. You spend your days inside Canvas like a minor character in a Russian novel, distributing grades, tracking submissions, and playing AI Police as if you’re guarding the border between Education and the Land of the Auto-Generated Essay. It’s less “learning” and more “completing modules to avoid moral decay.”

Second place goes to face-to-face, which works fine—but let’s be honest, students do not need to see you twice a week. Once is enough to build rapport, offer real-time feedback, and remind them you’re a living mammal. Twice? Now you’re edging into overexposure. The ones who enjoy you on Tuesday will find you insufferable by Thursday.

And then we reach the hybrid: the Goldilocks of pedagogy. One meeting a week—just enough humanity to feel legitimate, not enough to trigger claustrophobia. The college saves money on electricity and preserves precious classroom space. Students get to cosplay “the full college experience” once a week. And you, the professor, are consumed in manageable doses—like vitamin A. Beneficial in moderation. Toxic in bulk.