Expanding the Possibilities of the U.S. Survey Through Student-Directed Teaching and Learning

Michael Goldberg

Faced with this plethora of new topics, periodizations, and sources, it is easy to fall into a “lifeboat” mentality and believe that if something new is added to the course, a topic of relatively equal historical weight must be tossed overboard.  But before we resort to this sort of academic triage, we should consider ways to expand students’ opportunities for learning without expending too much more of their time and energy—or our own.  In my own teaching, I have chosen to expand the scope of the survey by empowering students to take greater responsibility as teachers as well as students.  This essay relates the teaching strategies I have used to reach this goal.

We might start by recognizing an underutilized resource on most campuses—the students themselves.  One way to take advantage of this potential asset is to give students a teaching and research role.  When students contribute to the course as teachers, they not only help to cover more content, they also gain a variety of skills and a greater understanding of the learning process.  For the past several decades, educators have been developing ideas about student involvement in teaching under the rubric of “cooperative learning” (1).  By borrowing from these models, history instructors can maximize what they teach and minimize the need to make so many choices.

What follows is a blueprint for teaching the American history survey course using student-directed learning.  I have taught this course for several years at the University of Washington, Bothell, an upper-division-only branch campus.  The course outlined below is a ten-week class that meets two days a week for two hours a day.  The first hour of most classes is usually reserved for lecture, the second for discussion and student presentations.  The course is the third quarter of a three-part American history series which serves as both an introduction to American history and an exploration of more advanced theoretical concerns.  The course covers the period between 1920 and 1992.

Like most of my courses, this one begins with a syllabus that went through numerous drafts and wholesale revisions.  My first draft would have taken twenty weeks to teach—a dilemma I’m sure many others have faced.  I then confronted the usual choices, made some decisions, and then rejected them.  Despite the constant rearranging, there always seemed to be too many pieces of the puzzle left out.  Furthermore, many of the perspectives and topics that were included threatened to slip into obvious tokenism.  Should the New Left, Black Power, the Chicano Movement, and the Indian Rights movement be stuffed into one lecture?  Is fifteen minutes enough for Watergate?  What resulted was a zero-sum exercise in futility.  Clearly, some rethinking of the basic structure and goals of the course was in order.

The concept of hypertext, so much in the news these days, provided the inspiration for rethinking the course’s organization.  “Hypertext,” a term first coined by Theodor H. Nelson in the early 1960s, is “nonsequential writing[,] . . . text that branches and allows choices, best read at an interactive screen.  [It] is a series of chunks connected by links which offer the reader different pathways.”  Unlike conventional texts, which are generally mono-vocal, one dimensional, and move only in one direction, hypertexts are usually multi-vocal, multidimensional, and non-linear (2).

Those historians with any experience with hypertext are probably most familiar with the CD-ROM versions of history texts such as DC Heath’s Enduring Nation or Voyager’s Who Built America.  These texts contain a master narrative—commonly called a “spine”—that provides an initial structure and thematic consistency.  Veering off from this main pathway are secondary roads which lead in any number of different directions and offer a variety of different sources.  These “branches” might contain additional texts, documents, graphs, maps, photographs—even music and video clips—which can supplement the “spine.”  Perhaps most importantly, the reader has more control over the content than in a linear text.  She can go anywhere within the hypertext’s contents, choosing to wander the side roads that interest her.

The CD-ROM text offers a useful design model for teaching the postwar survey.  It signals a shift away from the zero-sum model of making choices of inclusion and exclusion, and toward a more interactive and skills-based program of teaching and learning.  Further, the technology itself provides ways to enhance this “hypertext” model of teaching.  Besides the CD-ROM texts, I use e-mail and electronic bulletin boards.  By designating much of what is read and seen and heard, I control much of the course’s “spine.”  Students then travel down various side roads.  Almost as if they were sitting before an interactive screen, students are given numerous opportunities to explore stories that interest them on their own and then report back to the class about where they have been in the postwar era.  Their explorations, in turn, broaden the content of the course and eliminate some of the most vexing questions about choices and coverage.  Like the hypertext itself, this hypertextual model of teachings helps to create a classroom experience where both the instruction and course content are multi-vocal and nonlinear.

Alan Brinkley’s Unfinished Nation, volume 2, provides the textual “spine” for this course (3).  Brinkley’s textbook, which follows a standard chronological and thematic order, presents students with one coherent, well-ordered story about the period. I constantly challenge this story, however, through lectures which offer different periodizations and introduce different stories and actors.  For example, while students read about the 1960s in Brinkley, they are given a lecture that takes them on a pathway through southern African-American culture and politics from the late 1930s to 1968.  Other lectures make connections that the text does not.  For instance, while the text chronicles the Cold War era’s politics of fear, the lecture makes connections between the bomb, the triumph of the corporation, the establishment of big unionism, suburbanization, the middle-class family, ideas about manhood and womanhood, youth culture, and the development of rock-n-roll.  I also use lectures to introduce different ideological perspectives than the generally liberal-leaning textbook, such as a conservative defense of David Stockman and his version of supply-side economics, or a radical feminist analysis of the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas hearings.

I toss into this pot of multiple perspectives sources from different media, including fiction, autobiography, film, popular music, photography, advertisements, and government documents. Each source, in the spirit of hypertext, is examined from several different angles in several different contexts.  For instance, I use The Autobiography of Malcolm X to document growing black militancy in 1960s, and to show the Nation of Islam as an alternative to the nonviolent movement. 

The lectures also consider form.  The Autobiography of Malcolm X serves as a jumping off point to explore the genre of autobiography, and in particular, to discuss the central role of autobiography in the African-American literary tradition.  But form and content are not treated as distinct elements.  By analyzing autobiographical form, students are better able to grasp the cultural and political meanings of Malcolm’s personal odyssey, and his (and Alex Haley’s) reconstruction of this odyssey (4).

By week two, students begin their own explorations of the past in small study groups of five to six students each—exploring paths off the spine of the lectures and texts (5).  Students fill out a questionnaire beforehand, which I use to balance the makeup of each group according to academic ability, age, sex, ethnic background, and political beliefs.  Whenever possible, I place students who have been friends before the course began in different groups.  The point is to avoid the “groupthink” which often arises among like-minded people.  Instead, multiple voices are encouraged, and students are forced to confront unfamiliar ideas and unexamined assumptions (6).

To aid students in what can be a difficult process, I assign several essays on cooperative learning and group interaction (7).  The groups maintain the same personnel throughout the term, but at each meeting they appoint a new reporter and facilitator.  The reporter takes roll, records the minutes, and reports the group’s findings to the reassembled class.  For the next class, the reporter types the notes and gives a copy to each group member and the instructor.  The facilitator keeps the discussion focused, watches the time, and acts as a sounding board (and occasionally a traffic cop) when disagreements occur.

The most common group activity involves a discussion of the assigned texts.  Sometimes, this simply means answering a number of open questions meant to stimulate discussion.  At other times, I give each group a different assignment.  After completing their assignments, group representatives share their findings with the class, enabling students to hear a broader range of conclusions than would have occurred in one large discussion.  When appropriate, I give the same assignment to all of the groups, and the responses they come up with are invariably different, and often imaginative.  These responses, in addition, reveal to students the multiplicity of perspectives possible when different people examined a single source or text.  On still other occasions, student groups must come up with their own agenda and look into topics that interest them, although the instructor provides suggestions.  Finally, small groups also serve as the basis for debates or role playing exercises, such as when each group assumes a different role in a fictive anti-communism crusade, from accusers to accused to bystanders to collaborators.

The groups also allow the students to take on the role of instructor, and once again expand the syllabus.  This exercise spans two class meetings.  In the first class, the groups are divided into two sections, with one group in each section being assigned a different text to read.  At the next class, the small groups meet for an hour to develop a strategy for teaching their text to the other groups.  During the second hour of the class, the two large groups meet, and each group in turn presents its findings.  This allows the course to cover a greater number of texts without increasing the student’s workload.  While I must now read more material for this section of the class, the students do the teaching.  Thus I do not have to do extensive preparation for class or write a lecture (8).

Yet another way to open up the course and present more material is for students to utilize interactive CD-ROM history textbooks (9).  Early in the course, group members select one topic from a list that I have provided.  All of these topics are ones that have not been or will not be extensively covered in the course.  Each student then agrees to deliver a ten-to-fifteen minute analytical lecture on one aspect of their chosen topic to their groups, relying on the CD-ROM’s enormous data-base.  Soon after they have started their research, I ask students to submit a one-page synopsis of their talk.  I grade and comment on the synopsis, which enables me to offer suggestions or catch egregious errors in analysis or fact before the lecture is given.  Later on, the group summarizes the main points of these lectures for the rest of the class.  Because of the wide range of material sources in the CD-ROM hypertext, students are able to assemble an impressive body of evidence without having to take too much extra time hunting down the material.  The lecturer also learns to interpret historical data in ways that are impossible using the limited number of sources in a standard documents reader.  In addition, the lecturer must figure out how to transform fragments of evidence into a coherent story.

Electronic bulletin boards—known as newsgroups—are one of the most effective outlets for students to introduce their own ideas to the class.  Here, students can work ideas and theories based on the course material, and share these concepts with other students.  I monitor these discussions to make sure no one is being led astray factually, and to clarify conceptual confusion.  Occasionally, I contribute addendum to the lectures, or else scan in useful articles or documents, thus expanding the possible area covered by the course even further.  Beyond the minimum requirement of posting one message during the term, students may participate in this aspect of the course as little or as much as they choose to (10).

One final project in the course asks students to pull together the analytical skills developed during the term: group cooperation and negotiation; analysis of different kinds of texts; identification and retrieval of sources; and the ability to sort through multiple perspectives.  Each group is asked to compare the media’s coverage of a specific period of the U.S.-Vietnam conflict with the version of events reported in the Pentagon Papers, and to use other secondary and primary accounts for corroborating evidence.

Early in the course, I give students a detailed handout describing the Vietnam project which suggests various strategies for organizing group members’ responsibilities and raises issues students might want to consider.  The handout also offers pointers on effective group presentations (11).  Students get a brief demonstration on using the Reader’s Guide, the New York Times Index, America: History and Life CD-ROM, and other finding aides.  Several times during the term, groups are given a chance to meet in class and coordinate the group’s efforts, where I monitor their progress.

The results have been generally impressive.  Students find it difficult to do shoddy work and then present it to their peers, particularly when they are the same people with whom they have been working throughout the term.  Students are also mindful of their peers in the class as a whole, and do not want to be “shown up” in front of everyone.  Most important, they are excited about doing “real history,” particularly history that is complex and contradictory.  Many have noted that they feel like detectives, ferreting out their version of the story.

Because students are responsible for a portion of the teaching, they are also given some responsibility for evaluation.  Although I grade and comment on the final product, group members evaluate each other’s contribution to the group’s effectiveness.  Using a form I have designed, I ask students to comment on each group members’ ability to work with others, complete assignments on time and in the manner agreed upon, supply useful ideas and material to the group, and attend meetings.  The form also asks students to note any contributions by group members that went beyond the course requirements.  I use the evaluations, which are completed at midterm and at the end of the course, to help determine students’ overall grade for group work.  I generally discard anomalous comments about a student but takes seriously those comments which are repeated by two or more group members. Students do an excellent job at this task—the comments are usually judicious yet honest (12).

One possible problem with this multivalent approach to teaching post-war history is that students will have trouble following the course’s main analytical and narrative focus.  Although every effort is made to stick to certain themes (expansion of government, Cold War foreign policy, inter- and intra-cultural relations, struggles for political, social, and economic justice), students must make an effort on their own to pull together the broad array of sources, periodizations, perspectives, and approaches.  Toward this end, I require that students keep an academic journal to record their thoughts about an assigned text, and more importantly to connect the text to themes and ideas raised previously.  Students bring the journals to class with them, and often start discussion by reading from their entries.  Before the exams, students provide a copy of the journal for each member of their group.  I collect the journals before the midterm and final, read two or three entries to ensure that the students are taking them seriously, and grade them “satisfactory” or “unsatisfactory.”

I have found that the main disadvantage of this hypertext format for the instructor is that there is sometimes too much going on in the class, especially in the beginning of the term when groups are formed and assignments are handed out.  The variety of sources can also make it difficult to do justice to the complexity of each text or topic.  But this frustration is assuaged somewhat by the realization that students who leave the class with enough interest and desire will at least be equipped with the analytical skills to explore these and other texts on their own.  And because they have taken an active role in the learning and teaching process, they will have gained confidence in their ability to interpret history.

Instructors who adopt any degree of student-directed learning must also be willing to relinquish a certain amount of control.  Allowing students some autonomy means that the instructor does not have the usual monopoly of power to shape the course’s message.  This can be unnerving, especially when a student or group offers an interpretation that is greatly at odds with that of the instructor.  It can also confuse some students who expect an orderly, non-contradictory interpretation of American history that can be easily parroted at the midterm and final.  Nevertheless, by empowering students, the instructor helps to validate their viewpoints while providing them with the intellectual confidence needed to challenge the ideas of their peers and their instructor.  This experience can be intimidating for both students and teachers; it can also be liberating.

Finally, while the hypertext model incorporates a slew of perspectives in a fixed period of time (unlike other models), it does not free teachers from making choices.  But because the instructor has provided students with the skills needed to pursue history on their own, they are more likely to continue their exploration of American history throughout their lives—and to make choices of their own. 
 
 

1. Most writings on “cooperative learning” address the needs of secondary school teachers, although these have much to offer teachers at two- and four-year colleges and universities as well.  See Robert E. Slavin, Student Team Learning: A Practical Guide to Cooperative Learning 3d ed. (Washington D.C.: National Education Association, 1991); and Yael Sharan and Shlomo Sharan, Expanding Cooperative Learning Through Group Investigation (New York: Teachers College Press, 1992).  Articles on cooperative learning aimed at a university audience include Alexander A. Astin, “Competition or Cooperation?: Teaching Teamwork as a Basic Skill,” Change (September/October 1987); and Kenneth Brufree, “The Art of Collaborative Learning: Making the Most of Knowledgeable Peers,” Change (March/April, 1987).
2. Cited in George P. Landow, Hypertext: The Convergence of Contemporary Critical Theory and Technology (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992).  Theodor Nelson is quoted by Landow on p. 4.  See also Roy Rosenzweig and Steve Brier, “Historians and Hypertext: Is It More than Hype?” Perspectives (March 1994).
3. Brinkley’s book was chosen because of its fluid and effective writing style, its even-handed perspective, and its relative affordability.  Further, because of its brevity, the course could accommodate other material.
4. The Autobiography of Malcolm X (New York: Ballantine Books, 1986).  The non-standard texts, such as film and music, are assigned along with the standard texts.  Films are placed on reserve at the library, as are CDS and tapes, and students may listen and watch these in the library on multimedia units equipped with headphones.  Students usually need a handout providing interpretive hints on the historical interpretation of film and music, as they are generally unused to employing these media as historical sources.
5. The last time the class was taught, there were six groups and a total of 37 students.  The enrollment cap has since been increased to 65, with an undergraduate teaching assistant (called a student preceptor) to help coordinate the small group work.
6. There are numerous theories on how to form groups, including by random formation, self selection, levels of participation “introvert” groups and “extrovert” groups.  There is no one correct way to form groups—each has its advantages and disadvantages which often vary according to the situation.
7. Helpful primers on group interaction include David Jacques, Learning in Groups, 2d ed. (London: 1991); and Joseph Luft, Group Processes: An Introduction to Group Dynamics (Mountain View, Calif.: Mayfield Publishing, 1984).
8. It does help to prepare an all-purpose handout that provides suggestions for how to boil down the essence of a reading.
9. The Enduring Vision is available in Windows or Mac format.  Earlier versions were quite buggy and slow, but the latest version (1.1) is much improved.  Heath has also released a CD-ROM version of The American Pageant, which is as user-friendly as its companion.  One of the most innovative CD-ROM textbook to date is Who Built America (1994), which ranges far beyond its focus on working-class history.  There are also useful supplement such as the Time Magazine Almanac (1994) and laser disks such as The American History Videodisc (1992).  The disks are available to students at multimedia stations in the library, and are offered for sale in the bookstore as an optional text.
10. Students are also allowed to ask the instructor questions about the course via e-mail.  Because students must post at least one message, obtaining an e-mail account from the university is also a requirement of the course.  I organize a special “how-to” session through our Computer Services department which is specifically geared to my course.  Computer Services also run workshops on the basics of e-mail and newsgroups throughout the term. Students may either use their own computers, or utilize the university’s.
11. Some students choose to use audio-visual aides, which can add to the effectiveness of the presentation. However, students are warned not to depend on the aides to do the work for them. Content remains the most important criteria for judging the success of the projects; students are urged to consider the ways the aids will enhance an already effective presentation. AV aides vary from simple transparencies to computer-facilitated presentations using PowerPoint.
12. An instructor in another class takes peer evaluations one step further, having the students in the class fill out a form evaluating the effectiveness of each group’s presentation.