The John Lennon Peace Wall | Prague 2010

The John Lennon Peace Wall | Prague 2010
John Lennon Peace Wall | Prague 2010 | Photo by Deborah S. Greenhut

About Me

United States
Deborah S. Greenhut, PhD, is a playwright, arts documentarian, and educator who began teaching in a one-room school house in rural New England during 1970. These days you can find me collaborating with urban educators and students, seeking new ways to make education artful. I have consulted on management skills and communication arts in 44 of the United States and 5 provinces in Canada. I believe that people learn more effectively through drama-assisted instruction, and I exploit the Internet to deliver it. The views expressed here are entirely mine and not those of any other institution or organization.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Second Question

"Miss, where is India?"

Context is important. It might be everything, as some people have suggested. The second question was asked last year in an urban college classroom. I was showing a video illustrating world population growth since the year 1 AD, and a student saw a reference to India on the screen, which depicted an unlabeled world map. I paused the video so we could establish the location. It occurred to me that the students might not be able to appreciate the video without some knowledge of continents and countries, so I asked about the locations of China (they knew), Japan (most knew), Korea (not many), Vietnam (only one). We didn't do much better on the historical references offered by this excellent video. What to do?

How had they learned geography? Photocopied line maps were labeled by copying the teacher's blackboard drawings. In my experience, labels alone don't help people remember where countries are. How did I learn geography? No student could say what a topographical map was. I remember making those with clay, and I think that if you make the Himalayas with your hands, you are less likely to forget where they are, or which countries sit on either side. That's what art does for you. Scaling the Himalayas with your fingers makes you aware of their awesome height. While you are making those peaks, you might be learning about the Dalai Llama's exile from Tibet or Ghandi's coastal birthplace, and the teacher might also play a beautiful raga. Through art, you are nurturing a hearty contextual soup for your memory so it won't let go of the location of India, and its role in the continent of Asia. At least that's what education was for me.

My students are bright and curious. They operate smart phones with lightning speed, and they know how to use search engines. I need their help when the DVD won’t load. Their education has taught them to act quickly on their impulses, and they are often excellent technicians. These are admirable skills. To get the best value from a liberal arts degree, though, they are going to need to know more. While the No Child Left Behind Act has shined a bright light on some inequities, a decade of enforcement has narrowed the scope of every school’s efforts. Bureaucratic education reforms have reduced us to check box goals: "Student is able to label India on a map." When you walk away from the photocopy and the test of that information, what do you know about the culture of the world or why the monsoon season is important to ecology? You may know how to look up things, but how do you know what to look up? Without an artful experience of learning, this single fact--the location of India--has nothing to connect with in our memories. It's fine to teach people enough about reading and writing and arithmetic so that they can shop functionally, but what about solving problems and understanding the consequences of shopping choices? It's easy to educate a nation of impulse-buyers, but don't we all deserve something more in terms of the quality of our thinking about the world? I'm all for assessing learning, but we need to expand our notion of what students need to know.

On a brighter note, in a high school classroom recently, I watched as a newly arrived student from Latin America ran her hands over the Andes Mountains on a classroom topographical map. The teacher guided the student’s hand slightly east of the peaks, and said, “Bolivia.” The student  smiled and said, “My country?” The teacher nodded, and the student stroked the valley, smiling happily,  sighing, “Home.” It’s all about the context, isn’t it?

1 comment:

  1. This blog is so needed, not only in the arts and education, but in the any field that considers thinking a skill fundamental to its discipline. No one is more qualified to deliver these views than Deborah Greenhut, an experienced educator and artist--and a passionate, committed human being.

    Philip Vassallo

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