The Kind Academic

As class sizes grow and resources shrink, the idea of building genuine, caring connections with students can start to feel impossible. I’ve taught classes of 150, 300, even 450 students. And I know I’m not alone. Many of us are working in higher education systems where massification is the norm, not the exception.

But I still believe kindness is essential. In fact, when the classroom gets bigger, the need for connection only grows. So how do we do it? How do we practice kindness at scale?

Here are five small, tangible strategies that I’ve used to bring kindness into even the biggest lecture theatres. They don’t require extra funding, hours of additional labour, or tons of preparation. But they do require a bit of thought, a bit of care, and the will to go one step further for your students.

1. Smile

I know it sounds ridiculously simple. But smiling really matters. It’s the very first way students begin to form an impression of you. A genuine smile says: I see you. I’m happy to be here. You are safe here.

It sets the tone.

When we walk into a lecture theatre with hundreds of students, a smile is a signal that can cut through the scale. It’s a micro-moment of relationality that tells students: this space is kind.

2. Share a bit of yourself

Kindness doesn’t have to mean deep vulnerability. But even small moments of personal disclosure can soften the power dynamics in the room and show students that you’re human.

For me, I like to share that I’m from Cape Town, South Africa, and I always show a few pictures of how gorgeous it is. It’s a gentle entry into connection. It invites students to see me as more than a content-delivery machine. It also models that it’s okay to show up in class as a full person, not just as a role.

3. Ask real questions and listen to the answers

When one-on-one connection isn’t possible because of the sheer number of students, technology can help us stay relational. I use tools like Mentimeter to ask students questions. Sometimes these are about the course content, but often they’re just about life.

“What was one fun thing you did this weekend?”

“Would you rather be invisible or fly, and why?”

Then I read some of their responses aloud. I respond to what they’ve said. I share my own. These tiny acts of interaction start to build trust and connection. They say: your voice matters, even in this giant room.

4. Communicate kindly in your course artifacts

In large courses, students will often get to know you not through face-to-face interactions, but through your course outline, assessment briefs, and Learning Management System announcements. These artifacts carry your voice, so let them carry your kindness too.

Harsh, all-caps warnings like:

DO NOT DO THIS OR YOU WILL FAIL!!!

might get attention, but they don’t invite learning.

Instead…what if your instructions said:

“To help you succeed, clear instructions are provided below.”

Use warm, clear, encouraging language. Record a short video walking through assessments. Lighten the tone in your reminders. Students feel the difference.

5. Be radically explicit

One of the kindest things you can do in a big class is to be absolutely clear.

Don’t assume students will “just get it”, especially not when there are hundreds of them. Don’t assume that saying something once in class means everyone heard or understood. Kindness at scale means repeating key ideas, over-communicating structure, and explaining the “why” behind what you’re doing. Some things you can be explicit about are:

• Why this course matters
• The purpose of each week within the larger structure of the course
• How one activity builds on the next
• What knowledge and skills an assessment is trying to develop

Being clear is kind. And in a crowded, noisy system, that clarity becomes a form of care.

In closing…

Kindness doesn’t scale by doing more. It scales by doing deliberate small things with care and clarity. In a class of hundreds, it’s not possible to know every student’s name or reply to every email within five minutes. Kindness at scale is about how students feel in your class – whether they feel safe, seen, and supported, even from the back row.

A smile. A story. A question. A softened tone. A clear signpost.

These are small acts. But collectively, they make your teaching space more human.

And in a system that so often feels inhuman, that’s a quiet, radical thing to do.