Published online by Cambridge University Press: 01 August 2005
Teachers usually turn to experiential education when they aredissatisfied with the so-called traditional classroom. At its worst,conventional teaching dissects the political world into an array ofcomponent parts. Sometimes students read the latest scholarship, butthe treatment of politics is often either blandly descriptive or tooabstract. This type of teaching can rob politics of its pulsingenergy, which, ironically, attracted many political scientists intothe field. While most political scientists find politics exciting,the norms of the discipline can enervate the importance and drama ofpolitics. Student calls for more “current events” are a frequentresponse to these academic experiences.
Teachers usually turn to experiential education when they are dissatisfied with the so-called traditional classroom. At its worst, conventional teaching dissects the political world into an array of component parts. Sometimes students read the latest scholarship, but the treatment of politics is often either blandly descriptive or too abstract. This type of teaching can rob politics of its pulsing energy, which, ironically, attracted many political scientists into the field. While most political scientists find politics exciting, the norms of the discipline can enervate the importance and drama of politics. Student calls for more “current events” are a frequent response to these academic experiences.
Instead, experiential education requires students to experience politics in more immediate ways—and to interpret that experience. Such education is undeniably risky. Andrew Seligsohn, one track participant, likened experiential education to the risks of growth stocks in one's retirement portfolio. There is a potential for tremendous gains in learning—and tremendous losses as well. The traditional classroom is then analogous to a more conservative annuity. If done well, a teaching method that relies on lecture and discussion can bring respectable and steady returns. Indeed, the distinction between experiential and traditional education can be overstated; traditional teaching clearly has an experiential component. When we lecture and lead discussions well, we always refer to the experience of politics. We integrate stories and other data that illumine political experiences for our students. Nobody at the workshop felt that experiential education should replace traditional teaching. But we all were stimulated by the creative spirit of a pedagogy that involves experiential education. We all felt that political science education is enhanced when it is hands-on.
One age-old experiential learning tool involves leaving the classroom to explore the “real world” of politics. In some cases, this may involve internships or direct activism. Richard Robyn et al.1
All presentations discussed here are based on papers presented in our track. For a full listing of all of the papers presented at the 2005 APSA Teaching and Learning Conference, and for more information on this and future conferences, see www.apsanet.org/content_11986.cfm.
Students also learn when they enter the political process directly. Mark O'Gorman and Patricia Siplon both related how they incorporated activism into the “classroom.” O'Gorman encouraged his environmental policy class to find an on-campus policy to address. Students learned that facing vested interests and negotiating well are essential to successful outcomes. Siplon took activism in education a step further and traveled with students to East Africa for two weeks to battle the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the region. Citing an understudied outcome of experiential education, Siplon reports that students continue their learning beyond the final exam in subsequent courses and future political activity. Requiring direct action provokes both more political engagement and a deeper understanding of the complexities of politics.
While some teachers take their students off-campus to experience politics directly, others attempt to replicate political reality within the classroom by using simulations or games. Nancy Biggio, Bruce Wallin, and Marni Ezra seek to explain the process of policy making and the influence of external effects: Biggio had students assume roles in the foreign policy process; Wallin introduced students to the complexities of deficit politics and congressional policy making; and Ezra simulated the exchange between the White House press secretary (and staff) and the press. As a twist on the simulation idea, Victoria Williams asked her students to develop individual identities of different people living in the Cold War period. The students collected data and wrote essays reflecting the varying experiences of the Cold War. These types of simulations require students to assume the roles of political actors. They must work to reduce the deficit, face the media, improve foreign policy, or examine the Cold War within a semblance of real-world constraints. The simulated experience becomes the data with which one interprets and explains political events and processes. Yet, as Zachary Cook relates, the “real stakes” of loss may be difficult to incorporate into simulations. To simulate Arrow's paradox of unstable majorities with real consequences, Cook had his students write their final exam by choosing among three types of questions: multiple choice, short-answer, and essays. As Arrow predicted, students had varying orders of preferences among the three options. The challenge for students was to find a majority preference. While this and all simulations may appear artificial, they often teach the complexities and dynamism of politics more effectively than do our more conventional lectures.
Less uniquely experiential in the way we commonly understand the term, some presenters told of efforts to reconfigure the classroom in manners that transformed the teaching and learning experience. Barbara Allen explored ways to incorporate students into the research process. During the 2004 campaign, she had students lead focus groups to discern popular reaction to campaign commercials and media coverage. Rosemary Shinko utilized small group discussions as a means for students to gain an understanding of course material. She worked to make students the protagonists in the learning process, not the object-receivers of information. Paul Dosh presented a “Montessori”-type of education system developed for university students. Dosh attended Montessori schools as an elementary student and suggested that this same student-centered and active-learning system could be developed for college students. Not only would students gain an active learning opportunity, but they also would experience the process of developing the course and the resulting outcome. Finally, Brian King told of a project in which faculty members became students in their colleagues' courses. Becoming a student provided insight to both professors and other students who were literally their colleagues.
Experiential learning enhances education; the challenge is to demonstrate this. We see positive outcomes in students' willingness to take ownership of their own education and to learn from each other. We sense it in their heightened intellectual curiosity and emotional connection to the course material. We hear it in the buzz that spills out of the classroom and through their increased interest in politics. But how do we assess it? Yes, in-class simulations and out-of-class experiences may be engaging and fun, but what is the value-added to individuals, the discipline, or the community? Some projects produced evaluative data by surveying students before and after their participation. Other appraisals involved more conventional grading. Our group, however, came to no clear consensus as to the merits of grading student participation per se; however, many of us leaned toward evaluating students on their ability to analyze and articulate what they got out of the experience. Assessment and evaluation included more “conventional” assessment tools—such as exam questions or integrative papers that bring together scholarly debates in the literature, theory, and practice—supplemented by reflective journals, self-assessment, and/or assessment of other students engaged in a group activity. This turns the focus away from students' experiences and more toward their critical thinking abilities. This, in turn, enables us to evaluate our experiments in experiential education—at least in part.
In sum, the presentations suggest that experiential learning can lead to 1) increased academic performance in other classes, 2) increased political engagement including consideration of politics as a vocation, and 3) a deeper understanding of politics and political science. To make a stronger case, there is a real need for studies that analyze both the short- and long-term impact of experiential learning. The purpose of gatherings such as APSA's Teaching and Learning Conference is to spark creative ideas for developing and appraising experiential learning. Future conferences and the publication and further dissemination of our work are necessary to develop the field of experiential education in political science. Through this communal endeavor we can advance our teaching and scholarship as we contribute to the civic life of our students, our nation, and our world.