By Laura Bayzle
Managing Partner
The Link Group
Raleigh, North Carolina
lbayzle@tlg.com
We walk into the elementary school gym to the sounds of musicians drumming the bongo and tapping out a jazzy rhythm on a keyboard. Today, I am visiting this elementary school as a North Carolina Arts in Action (NC AIA) Board member, observing a class that the NC AIA instructors are teaching fourth graders. As we take our places, the classroom of fourth graders enters the gym, looking tentative and unsure. Immediately, an AIA dance teacher greets them at the door and introduces herself.
This is the fourth graders’ first class with AIA, a nonprofit in-school dance residency—primarily in Title 1 schools in North Carolina—which empowers students and teaches them life skills through dance and music. The program uses a specific pedagogy to teach children self-confidence, resilience, and teamwork. Over the next 16 weeks, students will meet with these instructors weekly and learn a choreographed performance, which, at the end of the 16 weeks, they will perform for their parents and the entire school.
“We’re going to walk into the gym pretending to be an octopus.” She leads the line of fourth graders, all of them waving their arms and legs like an octopus. Another AIA teacher picks up as the lead and says, “Now, let’s pretend we’re dolphins,” and the students undulate their bodies up and down, mimicking dolphin jumps. This continues a few more times until all the AIA teachers have introduced themselves, and the children come to the center of the gym, now happy, confident, and excited about what’s next.
I’ve had the pleasure of working with Arts in Action for the past eight years. As I observed this latest class, it occurred to me that I could learn a lot from these teachers and students and apply their pedagogy to my qualitative practice.
But, after nearly 20 years as a moderator, I’m comfortable in my practice. What more could I possibly learn at this point in my career? I’m RIVA-trained; I’ve conducted thousands of in-depth interviews and focus groups across hundreds of projects; I can recite my intro in my sleep; and few things really ruffle my feathers during an interview anymore.
Yet, this is precisely the time to step outside of my comfort zone, the low-risk state where growth stagnates. As moderators and researchers, we should be continuously honing our craft and taking small steps and risks that allow us to grow. Observing how others hone their craft, both inside and outside of research, inspires me to think about how I can pull those lessons into my own sphere. Here is what I learned.
The Power of Feedback
During one of my classroom observations of AIA, a master teacher from National Dance Institute (the parent organization of NC AIA) came to observe the class and offer feedback to the instructors. These instructors have been teaching with AIA for years, and they are truly fantastic. They are skilled at connecting with the students, keeping the students focused and engaged, teaching the curriculum in a thoughtful and impactful way, and imparting their energy and enthusiasm onto the students. What more could they possibly learn from the master teacher?
Plenty! This was the precise moment I reflected upon my own craft and realized that, after 20 years of moderating, I can still continue to learn and grow.
The master teacher watched intently during the class. At one point, he yelled, “Freeze!” The students and teachers all froze in their places. He briefly explained who he was and his role, and then turned to the teacher. “Tiana, when you said, ‘I go first, then you go,’ there were students who were mirroring your movements while you were demonstrating. You need to be clearer that they need to observe when it’s your turn and then mirror when it’s their turn.” He checked for understanding and reaction from Tiana and then yelled, “Unfreeze!” Tiana tried again with the students. “Freeze!” the master teacher yelled again. “Tiana, that was perfect. More students got the movements this time because they were able to first observe.”
I wish I had a master teacher who could yell “Freeze!” and give me real-time feedback during my groups. But that’s not practical in our world (and we may get a few confused looks from participants). So, what’s the next best thing?
I’ve started watching the recordings of the groups I conduct. I admit, it can feel cringy to see and hear yourself on camera, but it has been extremely valuable once you get past that part. I have been amazed by how the tone I think I use when posing a question doesn’t actually come across as I intended. Or, I have identified times when I’ve talked too quickly when explaining an activity and missed confused looks from participants. There have been times when I’ve allowed one participant to talk for too long, and I am now able to see the frustration or boredom on the faces of the other participants, which helps me understand the impact a long-winded participant can have on group energy. These are all things I missed in the moment and only picked up when watching the recording.
By watching the recordings, I have learned to slow down. I now wait a few beats to look around the room (or screen) to observe group understanding after explaining something. I linger a few more moments to allow myself to collect my thoughts so I can probe more deeply. I try to listen not only to the respondents, but also to myself. One of the golden rules of moderation is to be comfortable with silence, as that silence ushers in new voices. Over the years, I think my cadence has gradually increased, and there has been less silence without my noticing. Watching my recordings has allowed me to reset.
Another option is to ask others to observe your interviews and give feedback, so long as those observing feel comfortable giving constructive feedback. I think there can be great value in getting perspectives from those both more senior and more junior, or from someone who works outside the market research industry.
Revisiting the Intro
As I mentioned, I can recite my intro in my sleep. It may even be the same intro I wrote during my RIVA class 17 years ago, with just a few updates over the years. But as I watched the AIA teachers greet the students and imitate sea creatures, I realized once again how important the introduction is to building rapport with participants. In just a few moments, the dance teachers were able to take a group of nervous, tentative students and turn them into a group of trusting and excited students. How can we do the same as moderators?
Another technique that teachers use in their pedagogy is “I go first, then you go.” The teacher first demonstrates a four-count choreography as the students watch and then mirror her. She repeats the process to ensure they understand the choreography, and then they practice together.
I started by completely scrapping my canned introduction. To create more connection, I removed the required language (i.e., adverse event language, confidentiality information) and placed them into a written document for participants to read and agree to prior to the interview (this also freed up a few extra minutes I could use to build rapport). I created more choreography during the intro by posing a reflective question to the participants and allowing for more back-and-forth conversation before we get to the interview questions. Before I ask the participants to introduce themselves, I go first and introduce myself with a personal nugget to set the tone.
In the end, I created a new, more dynamic introduction that feels more authentic to who I am now as a moderator (as opposed to who I was 17 years ago). The overall outcome is a better connection to the participants, which, in turn, has led to more productive groups.
Calling People In
A teacher turns her attention to a quiet student who is nailing the choreography. “Sam, you are doing a great job erupting.” (The children are learning about volcanoes, and the AIA choreography ties to the science subject matter.) “Can you show the rest of the class the energy you bring when erupting?” All eyes are on Sam, who blushes slightly, as he demonstrates. The class claps, and Sam’s eyes shine. The quiet, shy child has had his moment to stand out and be recognized by his peers.
I once heard a moderator say to a focus group, “If I call on you during our conversation, I’m not calling you out. I’m calling you in.” I love this reframing of how we can pull all voices into the conversation to deepen our insights and understanding. It dovetails nicely with the AIA pedagogy.
Many times, during a focus group, I don’t always stop and draw out a quieter participant. As long as I’ve heard from a quorum of perspectives, I move the discussion along. But what different perspective did I miss by skipping that participant? How might a little nudge encourage them to participate more fully in the conversation and open up the group discussion even more?
So, I’m rethinking how I can “call participants in” earlier in the conversation. That looks different for every focus group, but I build more time into early discussion guide sections to hear from everyone. During the discussion, I identify those quieter participants and call them in with a small nudge. (“Sam, I would love to hear your thoughts.”) This sets expectations about their participation for later in the discussion. I also give positive reinforcement (“That’s an interesting perspective, Sam. What are others’ reactions?”) so they know they are valued and heard. I want to be aware of not pushing quieter respondents too much past their comfort zone, as we don’t want to overwhelm more introverted or neurodivergent participants, but want to be more mindful of gathering all perspectives. I can still move on after getting a quorum, but I ensure that those quieter participants are included as much as feasible and possible, especially if their input provides an additional perspective.
Movement and Music
Children love to move their bodies. You can see the joy on their faces as they move, and the impact of that movement lingers long after the class has ended. Over the years, we’ve partnered with AIA to measure the impact that dance and music have on a child’s behavior and school performance. The results have been astounding. When analyzing grades at the school district level, we have seen that the program significantly improves math and social studies performance. In survey data, we see significant improvement in self-confidence, attitudes about school, and attention paid in class.
How can we harness the power of movement within our own craft? During focus groups that run 90 or 120 minutes, I see participants start to fidget or lose focus after about an hour. This is especially true with virtual focus groups, where the distractions are even greater and it’s much easier to multitask without anyone knowing.
I’ve started to incorporate movement into focus groups. Around the hour mark, or at a natural break in the discussion flow, I will stand and spend about a minute leading the group in simple stretches: hands reaching to the sky and back down, torso twists, side body leans, and marches. I exaggerate my movements and poke fun at the activity to reduce awkwardness and increase comfort for those who may feel hesitant to move in front of strangers. It’s short and simple, but I’ve seen it change the energy of a group and regain participant focus. It works for both in-person and virtual groups.
I haven’t seen the need to do this for IDIs, as they typically last just an hour—which seems to be within the limit of focus and attention—but for any IDI lasting more than an hour, this could also be a great technique to regain focus. I haven’t incorporated music yet, but I could see that being an interesting addition in refocusing and reenergizing the group.
Who would have thought that a dance program for fourth graders could offer such profound lessons for a seasoned moderator? Yet, the experience of observing Arts in Action serves as a powerful reminder that inspiration can be found in the most unexpected places. No matter how much of a veteran we are in this industry, there is joy in continued growth. While experience is invaluable, it’s the willingness to step outside our comfort zone and to observe and learn from unexpected sources that truly fuels growth. Just as the AIA teachers constantly refine their approach, so too can we, as moderators, embrace new techniques, revisit old assumptions, and ultimately, deliver richer, more insightful results for our clients.
