Textbooks and Teaching

On the Road and out of the Box:
Teaching the Civil Rights Movement
from a Chrysler Minivan

Alyssa Picard and Joseph J. Gonzalez

Each trip had its "moments." In March 2000, we heard Mamie Till describe why she had demanded an open casket for her son Emmett, lynched in 1955: "So that everyone could see what they did to my boy." In 2001, Julian Bond read his student poetry, and John Lewis described how he and Bond resurrected their friendship after both ran for the same congressional seat in 1986. In the Mississippi Delta, the lawyer Jaribu Hill explained why she defends the rights of the poor, rejecting a lucrative private practice: "What do I have to worry about? Some of my clients don't have indoor plumbing, or even front doors."	1
Each trip had its "moments"—but such moments do not come cheap. In order to appreciate them, we had to implement two experiential learning courses on the civil rights movement, connect with an activist community, and balance academic and experiential learning while writing our dissertations. The effort was worth it. Our first trip, during spring break 2000, was a success, and the second, during spring break 2001, was even better. This year, we will be on the road again, eating fast food, evading speeding tickets, and searching for moments of clarity.	2
Why I "Wasted" My Spring Breaks Teaching Joseph J. Gonzalez "Our spring break is almost over . . . and we wasted it learning." —Jeb Singer, spring break 2000
I "wasted" two spring breaks teaching, and I could not be more satisfied. I had to do it. Years into my doctoral studies, I had taught several writing courses at the University of Michigan. I enjoyed teaching and my students but felt frustrated. Though charming and competent, my students seemed passive, more like guests than participants, learning only enough to write their essays. Their learning—and my teaching—stopped at the classroom door.	3
Fortunately, I found the Lloyd Hall Scholars Program (LHSP) in 1999. LHSP is a residential learning community at the University of Michigan. Knowing that its director, Professor David Potter, encourages innovative teaching, I proposed to lead a historical tour of the civil rights movement. The request surprised us both. My knowledge of the civil rights movement rested on a few books hurriedly read for preliminary exams. I knew no one in the movement and had never taught an experiential course, though Douglas Brinkley's The Majic Bus provided an inspiring example. But I knew that my students needed to connect their experience with the process of historical change. The civil rights movement, many of its leaders still active and its sites still preserved, seemed ideal for this purpose. In addition, the movement presented a story of heroic struggle and ambiguous results, the legacy of which my students confront every day.1	. . .