Textbooks and Teaching

Going Public with
Introductory American History

John J. Grabowski

At semester's end I sat down with my teaching assistants, Sven Dubie and Paul Gilmore, to grapple with sixty-two research papers submitted as the final requirement for History 112 "Introduction to American History," at Case Western Reserve University (CWRU), a moderate-size private institution best known for educating engineers and scientists. The papers were the results of an experiment in teaching a basic introductory history course. Seeking to dispel the standard undergraduate misconceptions about history—that it is boring, distant, nonrelevant, just dates, etc.—we had prompted our students to get outside the classroom, to observe life on the streets and neighborhoods around the university, and to use the archival and material culture collections of a major museum in an effort to understand a critical issue, unity or disunity in the United States. Some of the resulting papers, as would be expected, represented the bare minimum of work needed to pass the course, but a few were transcendent. One student drove the streets around the university taking pictures of the homes of the poor and the wealthy. He then matched the images with statistical data on income and race and argued that housing symbolized disunity in America. Another interviewed local Asian Indian restaurant owners, checked Web sites on ethnic foods, and talked to Asian Indian immigrants. His conclusion was that the partial Americanization of Asian Indian cooking and the growing familiarity with Indian food on the part of the American public argued for unity. Another reviewed images of children's and adolescents' costume throughout the twentieth century and concluded that by the century's closing decades, labels and diverging styles had made visible the racial and economic divides within the country. These introductory-level students had engaged with material culture, and they had not just learned history, but clearly enjoyed doing so.	1
The history introductory or survey course provides an ideal ground for changing perceptions and gaining converts within any college or university. At Case Western Reserve University, two courses hold this position: History 112, "Introduction to American History," and History 113, "Introduction to Modern World History." For well over a decade the history department at CWRU has worked to make these courses more meaningful and attractive. Faculty now focus on issues such as gender and race and on developing writing skills, introducing basic historical techniques, and personalizing the past (students in the American introductory course are usually expected to construct a family history and to place it in the context of the American experience).	2
In the past two academic years, grant funding has allowed faculty teaching these courses to move toward further innovations, including the use of computer-based media in the classroom, permitting faculty on our fully "wired" campus to catch up with the students.1 But by now, the Web is pretty much an inside-the-box experience. Our challenge at CWRU was to go beyond easy access to virtual experience. We determined to link introductory course work to objects and archival materials, thereby lending some reality to theory and electronic images.	3
Fortunately, CWRU is adjacent to the Western Reserve Historical Society (WRHS). A typical trans-Appalachian historical society founded in 1867, WRHS has evolved into a major urban research center and museum. For many years university students have used its archives/library for work on local and regional topics as well as for public history internships. Although some of the interactions were substantive, none took full advantage of the historical society's resources. Particularly underutilized were the society's material culture collections. They offered the prospect of linking history to actual objects and of introducing students to the growing use of material culture as an interpretive historical resource.2	. . .