-Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer
American education often seems like an asylum, though not in the sense of the word de Crevecoeur used. Rather than a haven, schools and classrooms can take on the manner of mental asylums, learners and teachers alike suffering form all sorts of infirmities of mind. What then is the American student? How is she new, and how do we meet that newness? A large portion of my answer derives from a program at my school called simply "The Humanities Program".
For the past two years I have been team teaching a sophomore course of American Studies as part of a broader Humanities Program. The course I teach pairs an English teacher with a Social Studies teacher and features periodic lessons from Art, Music and Religion teachers. Students study material from a thematic rather than chronological approach. Assessment options not only include but require creative options, as students must alternate between traditional essays and alternative assignments. Students have painted, sculpted, acted, and cooked their way into demonstrating mastery of the material alongside more traditional writing pieces.
Student work analyzing the connections between The Scarlet Letter and "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"
by K. Boggs
My experience teaching this course has been eye-opening. Students have produced work and wrestled with ideas at a level that I find missing in many of my more traditional courses. The dialogue between the disciplines encourages and models the kind of collaboration that will be expected of our students in the future. Our students engage in learning outside of the classroom through quarterly field trip options completed on their own time. Nevertheless, there are those who question the validity of the program and its methods. To some, our approach sacrifices content and is irresponsible if not outright rebellious. I am continually moved to evaluate the practices we use and consider the rammifications for our students.
In short, I think the program's detractors are missing the boat. They may represent the 1/3 of De Crevecoeur's letter who are wealthy in their original countries - certainly some students thrive under more traditional models. Like De Crevecoeur, I believe that the motto of emmigrants will be "Ubi Panis Ibi Patria; where he wrote of economic and social realities, I write of educational and learning realities. Students will be invested where they find bread - where they find sustenance for their intellectual pursuits. For a great many of today's learners, bread will be found in more inter-disciplinary endeavors.
Similarly, I believe that we are not sacrificing content. Quite the contrary, we are full to the brim with content for our courses. The misunderstanding comes from the fact that our content is fundamentally different. In age where the Stamp Act or the publication date of The Scarlet Letter can be looked up on hand-held devices, the content of our courses should be different. It has to be different if we wish to prepare our students. In our study of the Scarlet Letter we incorporated art lessons where we tried our hand at cross-stitching.
While learning about the Stamp Act, some students took trips to Jerusalem Mill or Hampton Mansion to get a feel for the various living conditions of the time. Learning inched closer to a 24/7 model, with content extending beyond the four walls of room 208. Most recently, a group project on the American Dream has students reaching out to some of their subjects, dealing with agents, publicists and personal assistant, trying to get a brief interview. At present one of those groups has been successful, and others continue their pursuit.
"Sage on a stage" models are increasingly failing. When our practices work towards developing strategies of "not reading" and concentrate on teaching 19th century literacies in the 21st century, we are engaging in the work of Sisyphus. We often think of 21st century literacy as being solely about technology, and while tech plays a vital role, it is not the limit of what that term encompasses. 21st century literacy includes collaboration and creativity, initiative and adaptability; characteristics our program embraces. We need to stop rolling the boulder up the hill and discover creative solutions to reach the summit. In some cases, we ought to leave the boulder behind.
For several years teaching Philosophy to college undergraduates I would tell my students, "These theories are the tools I am providing you. You must then prove to me you can build something with them." The Humanities Program is giving me the opportunity to try that model on the high school level. I can provide the materials: literature, history, art, music, grammar, rhetoric. What will the new American learner build with those tools? The same papers that have been written and re-written, or something new, bold, original and daring?
