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Materials Engineering and the Challenge of Teaching History in the Community College

Marc Dollinger
Pasadena City College



MY FRIEND SAM, a materials engineer in the oil industry, once tried to explain what he did for a living: "When an explosion occurs in a refinery pipeline, it is my responsibility to find the cause." If Sam discovered a faulty pipe, he would design a new one. As he explained, "Building a better pipe is easy. Just buy more expensive components." But increased spending risked the intervention of cost-conscious managers. Investing in cheaper supplies, on the other hand, heightened the risk of a dangerous and costly breakdown. "Building a better pipe for less money," he concluded with a smile, "that's materials engineering!"1 1
     Sam's explanation serves as a powerful metaphor for teaching history at the community college. Historians at two-year institutions also face contradictory impulses. We must maintain high academic standards in a student population often under-prepared for serious analytic scholarship. "Building a better pipe regardless of cost" in the community college history class might seem easy: deliver lectures at the highest intellectual levels and engage difficult historiographic issues. Demand long research papers and assign a reading list comparable to the reading lists of lower-division four-year university courses. This approach would promise to prepare students for upper-division work, would honor the matriculation agreements formed between community colleges and their respective transfer schools, and would infuse the two-year college with an academic culture which valued historical inquiry and discovery. It would help retire the anachronistic label "junior college," which denotes an inferior intellectual experience, in favor of the designation "community college" which promises to bring higher education to the masses. 2
     Yet, we must also insure that our courses remain accessible to our students. Many community college students arrive in class unprepared to read more than the textbook. In an informal survey of my history students, for example, I discovered that fewer than half had ever written a college-level paper. Indeed, only a handful of students in any given class had graduated from a high school history course that demanded a thesis-based essay. At Pasadena City College, as is the case in many community colleges, students come from dozens of countries around the world and face even more difficult barriers. Most of our international students enter the United States history survey with little or no knowledge of this country's past, and some have weak English-language skills that make lectures difficult to understand and complicate the reading and writing process. Many re-entry students, balancing full-time jobs and family responsibilities with their academic commitments, have lost the sort of intellectual focus enjoyed by many traditional four-year college students. 3
     In addition, many of my students arrive on campus with little exposure to academic culture. Decorum suffers when students routinely enter class late, leave early, fail to take notes, and on rare occasions, refer to their instructor as "teach." Few understand historiographic concepts and more struggle with the notion that history is interpretative. The minimalist reading and writing standards of their high school history class have created limited college expectations. They clearly prefer narrative lectures and when they learn of my "one book a month" reading requirement, many protest. Some, in fact, put pens to drop slips on the news that they will be required to write a five to seven page analytic paper. A classroom bursting at the seams with first-day students soon reveals a host of empty desks. If community college historians try to adopt the reading and writing course requirements of the major four-year universities, students will search for more familiar and less challenging classes elsewhere. We will lose the students in greatest academic need and retain only those already prepared for transfer. 4
     The challenge of maintaining high academic standards among under-prepared students crystallized for me in my first three years of college-level teaching. During this time the uncertain nature of the academic job market saw me working at no fewer than eight different colleges and universities. These assignments ranged from the community college to the four-year public university to a major research university and an Ivy-league caliber private college. I witnessed a wide variety of students and struggled to develop history curriculums to meet their diverse capabilities and needs. Of course, students at the most elite-level school enjoyed the highest degree of academic preparation. Most had attended private high schools and many had already experienced residential academic life in boarding schools. During office hours, several students expressed anxiety about participating in class discussions because they thought that their classmates might expect every comment to reflect "graduate student intelligence" and they feared intellectual rebuke. Students dismissed the narrative story-telling aspect of lectures in favor of historiographic debate. Overviews of nineteenth-century immigration patterns, for example, inspired spirited debates over the role of gender and class in gilded-age America. No one questioned the amount or intensity of the readings. (This, after the department chair rejected my first-draft syllabus because of its "weak"—six monographs and one text—reading load.). Students expected analytic writing assignments. School policy prevented instructors from proctoring their own exams and campus tradition dictated that students devise their own questions for their papers. 5
     Historians dream of teaching in such an academic culture. Students arrive in class prepared (or are able to finesse their way through the historical debates). Papers reflect a high level of intellectual analysis and mastery of the English language. Class discussions often continue during office hours and, in the recent past, in internet-driven chat rooms. Almost every student will earn a bachelor's degree and many will continue to study at the nation's leading graduate schools. Students at the highest-level colleges and universities accept the language of academic culture from day one. They know that they will be expected to read and write. They understand that there are few academic limits to what a professor can demand. Devising an educational strategy for this sort of undergraduate population is not difficult. We can deliver straight lectures, augment with readings, engage students in debate, and expect them to grasp the concepts. They have refined the learning technique in high school and know how to process information and package it in a form acceptable to the instructor. Instructors at elite-level institutions revel in the opportunity to make interesting and insightful conclusions about history, to show new and innovative connections between themes and events, to teach current historiography, as well as to transmit substantive information about the past. 6
     Some community college historians, especially those trained at Ph.D. granting universities, enter their new classrooms with this elitist attitude, intent on "improving" the quality of education. They strive, in vain, to mirror their own academic upbringing. Over time, many learn that "building a better pipe" in the community college classroom demands much more than just emulating traditional pedagogy. We must translate the meaning and purpose of history to students who approach our subject from a different academic and life perspective. On the most basic level, we must explain that history demands multiple interpretations, must make explicit connections between historical evidence and the conclusions we draw, must teach analytic writing, and must demonstrate the importance of broad thinking rather than rote memorization. On a more sophisticated plane, we must reinvent our curriculum to meet the needs of many students who, thankfully, do not view their college courses as rungs to be negotiated on the long journey up the social mobility ladder. 7
     While many might lament the educational challenges of community college instruction, it offers historians important and valuable opportunities for professional development. All too often, my four-year college students focused on what they needed to earn an "A" while my two-year undergraduates challenged me to explain why they should care. This community college reaction may appear to reflect indifference but it actually reveals a yearning to know why history matters and why a college education is important. These are the types of questions all historians should routinely engage. It keeps us focused—and honest. We are forced to justify ourselves and our discipline on a regular basis. We must re-evaluate what we do and why we do it. What is the purpose of studying history? What will our students gain from our class and how must we adapt course material to meet those needs? What limits should instructors place on the scope of our teaching? Do different student audiences demand different approaches to history education? 8
     Some community college historians make the mistake of trying to solve our "materials engineering" challenge by weakening the academic requirements of their courses. They reduce the number of reading pages to account for their students' family and work responsibilities. They offer multiple-choice exams in an effort to insure that students understand the basic historical narrative. They all but eliminate the writing component. Students find great comfort in the familiar pattern of memorization while instructors, especially those serving on an adjunct or non-tenured basis, reduce the risks associated with challenging the academic status quo. In educational terms, it is of course possible to argue that these strategies recognize the importance of building complex skills on a firm foundation: that a student cannot reach the highest levels of learning without solid training in the fundamentals. 9
     Yet, this teaching style often sacrifices the thematic and analytic approach that should define the undergraduate survey. Just as emulating four-year universities fails to meet the needs of community college students, returning to remedial education proves just as ineffective. Students taught in this way will leave their two-year institutions without the skills necessary to compete at the upper-division level. While it is common for some community college historians to assign a textbook alone in a survey class, upper-division instructors demand that their students read as much as a monograph each week. A series of short multiple-choice quizzes might help students understand basic historical contours but they would not prepare students for courses that demand critical thinking. History courses that rely on rote memorization also tend to ignore compelling historiographic debates. Students may know what happened but they fail to learn important causal relationships. They study flashcards and timelines instead of broad interpretative questions. 10
     Since neither educational alternative addresses the needs of community college students, how can historians create an academically challenging program and still maintain a high level of student success? That, to paraphrase Sam the materials engineer, is the art of community college history teaching. It is a formidable challenge and one that should engage every historian in the two-year setting. The community college version of building a "higher quality pipe for less money" opens new windows of educational opportunity for historians. It forces us to rethink many of the most basic assumptions about the nature of history, its purpose in the lives of our students, and its place in higher education curriculum. Community college historians must explore the creative space between these two approaches and forge new teaching styles that recognize the limitations of our students but still strive for a meaningful college-level curriculum. 11
     We can "build a better pipe" by introducing educational aids, "affective" teaching techniques, and student outreach. It is important to offer a holistic educational experience within the lecture hour. By creating a repeatable and predictable lecture, discussion, and testing style, by providing students with necessary educational support, and by reaching out to students on an individual basis, historians can introduce community college students to greater intellectual challenges while still addressing the need for remediation. 12
     Educational aids such as will be described below can help community college students better understand the thematic and historiographic approach of a university-level history class. They can help explain difficult concepts by offering students a roadmap through the professor's argumentation. Pieced together over the semester, they can organize the major themes of the class, help students understand the larger context of each lecture, review previously-covered material, and foreshadow future events. At the end of the term, educational aids can also serve as excellent study guides for the final examination. 13
     At the beginning of each semester, students in my classes receive a course reader filled with all the educational aids they will need for the course. It begins with a letter of welcome designed to ease student anxieties. The letter contains sections devoted to the particular needs of re-entry students, non-native English speakers, students with weak high-school training, and students who have had negative experiences in other history courses. If we are to take our commitment to teaching a college-level course seriously, then we must begin our classes by reaching out to students and letting them know that we understand the challenges they will face. Many successful students have related the importance of that welcome letter. It reassured them to know that their instructor understood their fears, presented a vision of college success, and offered a plan to achieve it. 14
     The reader also includes the course syllabus and several study guides on lecture-notetaking, analytic writing, and study skills. Since a thematic approach defines the course, I include the essay-based midterm, term paper, and final exam questions in the course reader. This gives students the opportunity to focus their reading and class discussions on the questions at hand. They gain a clearer sense of the course themes, can focus on the best study strategies, and reduce their test-taking anxiety. Many form study groups and venture, together, to office hours to debate their answers. 15
     The bulk of the reader contains lecture outlines, one-page overviews that organize the historical evidence and focus the day's lesson. The outline opens with a single historical question used to frame the lecture. The lecture outlines help students develop study skills by modeling the type of question students will face on their essay-based exams and introduces a disciplined academic approach to the study of history. It shows them how to organize their thoughts in a logical way, develop an argument, and defend assertions with evidence and analysis. The undergraduates begin to understand that historians approach each era or theme with a set of controlling questions that guide their selection of evidence, analysis, and conclusions. The historical question is followed by a thesis statement that defines the instructor's position on the subject. By listing my own theses, I establish the interpretative nature of history and let my students know that different historians can come to competing conclusions on the same issue. This is also a great moment to teach different historiographic interpretations and challenge students to formulate their own ideas based upon the evidence from the lecture and the course readings. At the bottom of the outline, I include two or three books of related interest. While few students have actually read them, they do offer a powerful reminder that our lectures barely scratch the surface. Students learn the value of the written word and are introduced to the debates that separate one historical interpretation from another. Within the reductionist confines of the lower-division survey, these "suggestions for further reading" offer a powerful bridge to the more challenging work ahead at the upper-division or even graduate level. 16
     Period music can help bring an "affective" quality to the community college classroom. In the ten or fifteen minute passing period between classes, an instructors can do what I often do, prepare an audio (or video) selection from that day's lecture topic. For a lecture on the Great Depression, you could play "Brother Can You Spare A Dime," "Happy Days Are Here Again," selections from FDR"s first inaugural address, or one of his fireside chats. A lecture on post-war popular culture could include footage from Elvis' debut on the Ed Sullivan show. A civil rights lecture might include images of the Greensboro sit-ins. By beginning the music or video in the minutes before class begins, students enter the classroom with an immediate immersion in a particular historical experience. They sit, watch, listen and start thinking about the topic even before class begins. By starting the learning experience before the scheduled hour, tardiness is discouraged and students are encouraged to ready their pens and notebooks before the lecture begins. 17
     An anecdotal story can provide an important segue from the end of the introductory music to the beginning of the lecture. As the music fades (precisely at the appointed start time of class), the lecture can begin with a dramatic human interest story which captures the day's major theme. An opener of this sort can provide the "hook" to interest students in the subject. For the lecture on the civil rights movement, I open with a dramatic retelling of Rosa Parks' refusal to give up her seat and explain how that moment helped launch the modern struggle for racial equality. For the New Deal lecture, I describe conditions for one impoverished American and then introduce FDR's pragmatic approach to easing the nation out of economic depression. Every anecdotal opening closes with a single sentence that connects the story to its larger historical themes. The civil rights anecdotal opening, for example, closes with the sentence, "Rosa Parks, the Montgomery Bus Boycotts, and the Civil Rights Movement...our subject for today." The New Deal opening ends with the sentence, "FDR, the New Deal, and social reform in 1930s America...our subject for today." Students soon learn that each story fits into a larger historical context. At this moment, just two or three minutes from the start of class, students are seated and focused with lecture outline, notebook, and pen poised. It is an easy transition to read and explain the historical question and thesis from the day's outline. 18
     The anecdotal opening also helps develop academic discipline among the students. Administrative details, announcements, and other class business is conducted after this dramatic beginning. Students learn that their class begins on the hour, not five or ten minutes later. They observe an uninterrupted continuum between the introductory music, the anecdotal story, and a review of the day's historical question and thesis. Tardiness decreases once students realize that by roll time, the lesson is already well underway. Affective educational techniques also help students gain a deeper appreciation for historical change and for the essential differences between their own lives and the lives of their ancestors. Whether by reproducing famous American speeches in the minutes before class begins, donning a hat to simulate a presidential address during an FDR lecture, or even dressing in period costume to represent the 1960s in dramatic fashion, I teach students that history is participatory and interesting. 19
     While historians are not required to address remedial educational needs in the survey course, I have found it impossible to maintain a college-level curriculum without it. Students cannot be expected to compose a five to seven page analytic essay in a history class if they have never had the opportunity to write a paper in high school or college. Demanding a strong thesis and polished prose on a first-attempt college paper frustrates both student and instructor. Students cite the paper requirement for my course as the number one reason for dropping the class (the reading list places a close second). Retention improved once I divided the writing process into its component parts. Within the first few weeks of class, I offer a single lecture on the topic, "how to write an excellent essay" in which I review the definition of a thesis, the components of a paper, and the process by which students should approach their work. Since students have already received their questions for papers in the course reader, we work through several examples, composing model theses and outlines on the board and talking about how they might approach each question. Five years ago, I required a paper worth thirty percent of the grade. Now, I ask for a thesis statement and outline three weeks prior to the due date (worth ten percent of the grade) and reduce the paper value to twenty percent of the course grade. This helps discipline students to begin their work early, offers the instructor an added opportunity to help them get on the right track, and discourages plagiarism, a perpetual problem, by forcing students to think for themselves. 20
     More and more students have been taking advantage of a no-risk paper rewrite option as well. With only a single paper to write, students often felt frustrated that they could not benefit from the lessons they learned. To encourage students to continue thinking and writing, I welcome paper revisions. In order to qualify for this opportunity, students are required to discuss their graded paper with the instructor during office hours. By demanding a one-on-one meeting, I gain a valuable opportunity to help students. I now believe that the vast majority of learning occurs only after a student has committed his or her thoughts to paper and has the opportunity to discuss them with the professor. These are the moments when students "get it" and break out in spontaneous smiles, head nodding, and even occasional laughter. I also require that students resubmit their revised essay within a three-week time frame and attach both the old and new versions of the paper. By demanding a timely revision, an instructor can eliminate the inevitable procrastination which, all too often, leads to no rewrite at all. I ask for both copies of their papers so that I can quickly determine if any substantial revision has taken place. All too often, students correct a spelling error or two in search of a higher grade. When I starting receiving last-minute garbled outline-format "papers" (and students asking to be given an "F" so that they could take advantage of the rewrite option), I added a requirement mandating that all students submit complete, best effort, first-draft papers in order to qualify. 21
     At a recent meeting of the Pacific Coast Branch of the American Historical Association, Professor Dale Steiner of California State University, Chico offered a powerful argument in favor of instituting group quizzes. While I, like Professor Steiner, had once viewed group quizzes skeptically, I experimented with them at the community college and enjoyed great success. Rather than perceiving group quizzes as exams, I came to understand them as substitutes for class discussions. I improvised, using Steiner's model, to help students develop the skills necessary to compose analytic essays. For each group quiz, I asked students to formulate one-sentence thesis statements for the week's reading. When papers, midterms or final exams approached, I asked for thesis statements on the upcoming questions. For seventy-five minutes, students discussed and debated the week's reading. They thought about how they might answer their test questions, learned from one another, and gained valuable experience in formulating arguments. Students who would never speak in a class discussion found it much easier to talk to a few of their friends. It encouraged students to read since they now had to answer to their classmates and friends rather than their professor. It gave me an excellent opportunity to read their thesis statements and help them develop critical writing skills before they walked in for the exam. It did wonders for morale as students thought they were afforded an extra opportunity to "ace" their tests. In fact, the group quiz achieved many of the historian's educational objectives. It encouraged accountability in reading, promoted open dialogue, developed critical reasoning skills, and afforded the instructor the opportunity to walk about the class listening, engaging, and learning from student discussions. It built a better pipe for less money. 22
     An effective community college history instructor must place one metaphorical foot in the high school history classroom and the other in an upper-division four-year university lecture hall. We should never abandon the basic pedagogic qualities of college-level history: a thematic approach, emphasis on critical thinking, and exposure to historiographic debate. Yet, we should structure our courses in ways that help develop the skills necessary to compete. Bridging that gap should define our teaching and make us all great materials engineers. 23


Note


1 An earlier version of this paper was delivered at the Organization of American Historians 1999 Annual Meeting held in Toronto, Canada.

 

Pasadena City College History 7B
Pasadena, CA Dr. Marc Dollinger


Lecture Outline:
Elvis' America

 

 

  • Your musical introduction included:
    1. Hound Dog
    2. Jailhouse Rock
    3. Can't Help Falling In Love With You
    4. Heartbreak Hotel
  • Historical Question
    1. How did the life of Elvis symbolize the social contradictions of the 1950s?

  • Thesis
    1. Elvis embodied many of consensus America's greatest attributes just as he pointed out the era's major failures. While the "king" enjoyed great commercial success with the "baby boom" generation, his embrace of African American musical styles alienated him from mainstream audiences and foreshadowed the social protests of the 1960s.

  • Challenging the Consensus: Elvis As A Symbol Of Dissent
    1. One exception: Elvis and Mass Consumerism
    2. Elvis and the New Sexuality
    3. Elvis and Juvenile Delinquency
    4. Elvis and Race Relations
    5. Reinventing Elvis

  • Presley's Legacy
    1. In the Ghetto

  • Suggestions for further reading include:
    1. Simon Frith, Sound Effects: Youth, Leisure, and the Politics of Rock'n'Roll
    2. James Gilbert, A Cycle of Outrage: America's Reaction to the Juvenile Delinquent in the 1950's
    3. Michael Harrington, The Other America: Poverty in the U.S.

     

    Pasadena City College The Critical Essay
    Pasadena, CA Dr. Marc Dollinger


    Hints For Composing An Excellent Essay


    1. Make sure you articulate a strong THESIS STATEMENT. A thesis statement tells the reader exactly what argument you are taking and why. Even if the question doesn't appear to ask for an argument, make one anyway.
    2. Answer the question. This seems obvious but all too often students start off on the right track and then quickly diverge into a generalized discussion that misses the point of the question. Don't invent your own questions to answer.
    3. Support your thesis statement with historical evidence from the readings, lecture, and/or sections. You will probably only be able to consider one or two pieces of evidence per example. Don't overpack your paper with historical evidence that you are not able to explain and analyze.
    4. Analyze, don't summarize. This means that you need to explain HOW or WHY the evidence you chose supports your argument. Asserting a thesis and listing evidence is not enough. Everyone in class is drawing from the same body of evidence yet many of your thesis statements will differ. The only credible way to distinguish one paper from another is to see how you connect your evidence to your argument.
    5. Take time to think. This is the hardest and most important step in writing a paper. After you've finished the reading and selected the question to answer, spend some time thinking about how you will go about answering the question. This is a good time to talk to classmates or your professor. Unfortunately, this is the first step students sacrifice as they hurry to write their papers the night before they're due. Don't skip this step. It often means the difference between an excellent paper and an average one.
    6. Make sure your paper reads well. Check for spelling errors. Insure that your grammar is correct and that the paper is double-spaced with standard one-inch margins. Don't try to squeeze 10 pages of text into 5 pages (or stretch 2 pages of text into 7 pages) with creative use of fonts, spacing, and margins. If your paper runs short, it's a good clue that you need to ANALYZE more. If it runs long, chances are you've SUMMARIZED too much.

    Good Luck. Have Fun. Bring in rough drafts and I'll be happy to read and comment.


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