Teachable Moments: Pedagogical Considerations in Teaching Public Archaeology at the Graduate Level By A.

Gwynn Henderson Kentucky Archaeological Survey and Nicolas R. Laracuente Kentucky Heritage Council/University of Kentucky Department of Anthropology

Paper prepared for Lessons from the Trenches: The Pedagogy of Archaeology and Heritage Electronic symposium at the 77th Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology April 18-22, 2012, Memphis, TN Co-organizers: Susan Bender and Phyllis Messenger

Abstract The profession has a responsibility to prepare todays graduate students to succeed in both academic and applied realms. Effectively working with and communicating with our various publics has become a skill set as important as excavating and conducting research. This paper assesses a public archaeology graduate seminar taught in the Spring of 2010, by its instructor and a student who took the class. From insights gleaned through a consideration of student course evaluations and informal interviews with instructors and students who have taught/taken similar courses, we highlight issues to consider when teaching a public archaeology course and offer suggestions of ways to improve pedagogy. Introduction The role of archaeology has changed over the last few decades, bringing more archaeologists out of their fields and labs and into the public sphere (Nassaney 2009:4-5). Archaeology is used to highlight the disenfranchised in highly public and politicized situations (e.g., Little 2007). Archaeologists take on causes (e.g., Stottman et al. 2010). Even archaeologists who begin their careers not explicitly intending to engage the public will end up needing to explain their work to interested parties or the media.

These day-to-day work experiences increasingly require archaeologists to engage with multiple publics in a meaningful and informed way. Experience in and awareness of public archaeology issues and methods might better prepare graduates for real-world employment opportunities, with experience in public archaeology serving as a way for students to diversify and broaden their employment options. A large body of archaeological literature exists on public archaeology that is untapped by standard archaeology curricula, resulting in beginning archaeologists making the same mistakes as their predecessors when they engage the public. Recognizing this, the SAAs recommendations for teaching archaeology in the twentyfirst century place a premium on real-life experiential learning and on making courses relevant to real world situations (Bender and Smith 2000).

Compared to the required core courses and electives that make up the curriculum offered by anthropology departments today, courses in public archaeology are relatively new. In the 1970s, with the beginnings of widespread archaeological work required by Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act and other subsequent legislation and the publication of Public Archaeology (McGimsey 1972), public archaeology was generally synonymous with CRM, and public archaeology courses reflected that perspective.

Since then, the definition, identity, and meaning of public archaeology has broadened as archaeology has changed (Jameson 2004; McDavid 2009, Smardz Frost 2004). Not surprisingly, the content of public

archaeology courses has changed accordingly. In addition to (or sometimes in lieu of) considering CRM, the National Register of Historic Places, Section 106, and modeling how to respond to RFPs, public archaeology courses consider writing for the public, interpretation, ethics, media, museums, working with descendent groups, working with communities, the worldwide antiquities trade and looting, learning theory. The list can go on and on and covers almost too much for a one-semester course.

In this paper, in our two voices (alone and together), we reflect on a graduate seminar in public archaeology developed and taught by Henderson (a first-time graduate seminar instructor with decades of public archaeology experience) and taken by Laracuente (a second-semester archaeology doctoral student with some experience in public archaeology). We begin by briefly describing the main elements of the course (its goals and components), then present our perspectives on why Henderson taught/Laracuente took the course, and our opinions concerning what went well and what needed improvement.

Next, taking advantage of the teachable moment provided by student course evaluations, we consider and attempt to explain the bimodal assessment results. Using our course experience, informed by conversations with others (instructors and students) who teach and take public archaeology courses in somewhat similar contexts, we offer pedagogical suggestions and issues to consider when teaching public archaeology. Finally, employing the 3-2-1 Strategy, an effective teaching tool used during our course to focus student reading (Zygouris-Coe et al. 2004), we offer our respective 3 Insights - 2 New Ideas generated by this experience, and pose our -1 Question to guide us (and perhaps others) in future public archaeology instruction endeavors.

Our Course In the spring of 2009, the University of Kentucky, Department of Anthropologys Archaeology Development Committee gave Henderson the go-ahead to develop a graduate seminar course in public archaeology. Offered as Seminar in Public Anthropology, this course is conceived of as one of a pair of occasional special-topic public anthropology seminar offerings. Graduate students with a strong interest in conveying academic information to the general public are the target audience, and those who take both courses can gain a deep and broad exposure to the issues and the methods of doing anthropology/archaeology in the public sphere.

The main focus of our course is pedagogical: on how people learn, and the methods and techniques used in oral and written communication with the public. It is structured to provide students hands-on authentic

experiences with the public, particularly with school children. The other course targets cultural identity politics and cultural property issues on a world scale.1 Our courses learning goals were as follows: - analyze issues in public anthropology/archaeology (What is public archaeology? Why is it? What is its value? and so forth); - gain a working knowledge in fundamental concepts and tools (facilitated, in part through a consideration of Understanding By Design (Wiggins and McTighe1998), an approach to developing lessons/curricula linked to student assessment; and the Project Archaeology archaeological curriculum guides Intrigue of the Past (Smith et al. 1996) and Project Archaeology: Investigating Shelter (Letts and Moe 2009); and - participate in guided, purposeful, structured hands-on experiences in a safe learning environment that prepare students to interact successfully with the public (an on-going Kentucky Archaeological Survey public education program at an historic site on a county nature sanctuary {http://www.lexingtonky.gov/index.aspx?page=276} served as the courses case study site. The graduate students worked for a day with primary school students, observing them during an interpretive walk led by the site interpreter, then working with them as the young students excavated in the backyard of the site under the supervision and direction of Kentucky Archaeological Survey staff).

The class met for 2.5 hours once a week. Standard seminar discussion format (of concepts and issues) bookended the consideration of tools and methods in a workshop format. Experts in interpretation, museum education and exhibits, and education served as guest lecturers. The major course project was the development of a Learning Object a focused lesson (see Kentucky Educational Televisions Teachers Domain on its Encyclomedia website {http://www.ket.org/encyclomedia/}) linked to the diverse prehistoric and historic cultural resources of the case study site. A Learning Object was considered an excellent vehicle for assessing student learning, for it combined almost all the methodological and practical aspects considered during the course. 2 Students selected topics from a list generated by the NAI-certified site interpreter, who wanted to improve and extend the facilitys cultural resource education/interpretation options that he felt would be most useful in the future for teachers who bring their students to the sanctuary for outdoor classroom learning experiences/field trips. This content foundation served as the basis/frame of reference for students exploration of public archaeology during the course.

Two minor assignments also were part of the course. One consisted of a 10-minute in-class interpretative presentation on the Learning Object subject. The other consisted of written critical reflections: of an online video of a master teacher teaching archaeology and history to 5th graders; of their hands-on experience working with primary students and participating in an interpretive walk presentation at the case study site; and of their classmates in-class interpretation presentations about the subject of their Learning Object.

The Class Student Profile Enrollment was high: two women and five men, all with an archaeology focus. Two were masters degree students; five were at various points in their Ph.D. program. Student topical and regional interests were diverse: Central America and North America, historic and prehistoric archaeology.

The students also brought a wide range of previous public archaeology experience to the course: from not much involvement (n=1); to occasional communication with the public in a CRM venue or public event (n=3); to moderate amounts of public interaction in a variety of venues (giving talks at schools and at evening programs; participation for several years in a weekend-long event for school children and the general public; giving site tours as part of a national park job and for several years as part of a field school (n=2). One of the MA-seeking students and one of the Ph.D.-seeking students had the most personal firsthand experience with the public.

Our Perspectives From Hendersons Perspective (as course instructor)

Why I taught the class: I wanted this class to help prepare graduate students for real-world employment opportunities (cf., Shackel and Mortensen 2006; Smith 2006; Weisman 2006). I felt that by gaining experience in and awareness of public archaeology issues and methods, students could improve their chances for employment in the competitive archaeology job market. Taking the course also would help them avoid some of the mistakes that I and others had made through trial-and-error doing public archaeology.

Since in my experience, much of public archaeology is in the doing, I felt that a course covering this subject had to involve students in experiencing public archaeology in an authentic, real-world situation. I

had taken to heart the principles for curricular reform outlined in Benders proposal to guide curricular reform for the twenty-first century, particularly that of real-world problem solving (Bender 2000:37).

A broad definition of public archaeology informed my selection of course topics. But in concrete terms, the topics I included were those I wished I had been formally exposed to before I began my career in public archaeology (in the mid-1980s, I didnt even know thats what I was doing; I wonder if any of us did). These included: - How do people learn? - What is the culture of elementary schools? - What is considered best practice in lesson/curriculum development - Why are standards so important? - How do I speak to kids/adults in an interesting way about archaeology/about a site? - How is writing for the public different from writing for professionals? - How do we know what people learned? - Does any of this matter? None of these topics deal directly with archaeological content. It plays second-fiddle to identifying learning goals to get to big questions to communicate to people about the past. What I felt was most important for students to take away from my course was an awareness of how people learn, both adults and children, and an experience in exploring how to effectively communicate with them (through writing and speaking). In my opinion, laws and CRM issues could be covered in other venues3; working with descendent communities and talking about ethics and praxis could wait.

What I thought worked well: Like Laracuente, my reflections are two years old at this writing, but I remember feeling that the arc of the course was positive and that it went very well (that is, until I received the student course evaluations). The nearby case study site link was very rich. It provided a variety of potential content from which the students could select their Learning Object topic; and in a safe learning environment, students saw interpretation and gained some experience working with school children and their teachers in an established public archaeology venue right in their own backyard. The possibility of teachers actually using their learning objects also was authentic.

Throughout the semester, most students were engaged and involved. They provided insightful comments on their weekly readings (3-2-1 Technique) and on their hands-on experiences. On several occasions, it was very exciting and rewarding to see so much learning taking place. Four class meetings in particular stand out for me. The meetings during which we: 1. viewed and discussed the video of the master teacher;

2. decompressed/deconstructed the students hands-on experience working at the case study site with the school children and assessing an interpretive walk; 3. used a concept map to structure our discussion about what public archaeology is, and; 4. discussed students ideas concerning archaeologys Enduring Understandings/Big Ideas. Student responses to experts (an educator, a history education researcher, a trained interpreter, and two museum experts) visits were generally positive. The class led by the museum director and museum educator was an especially lively meeting. During this class period, students selected a museum job (e.g., director, educator, curator, development coordinator, etc.) then, given the persons response to a plausible challenging museum situation (a request for the preparation of a new exhibit but without full funding and within a short time frame), each student role-played that persons response to the situation. Students critique assignments for the most part showed thoughtful consideration and appropriate application of course concepts and vocabulary. The final versions of student Learning Objects were generally good. Some of the archaeology haikus prepared on-the-spot during the final class meeting were quite profound. What I thought needed improvement: In my notes of the class meetings, comments like I think I spoke too much today and time management issues indicate an awareness on my part that some course mechanics needed adjustment and some teaching techniques and practices needed attention. I felt this was normal for the first time a course was taught.

It became clear that I had planned too many topics for each class period for adequate coverage, and so for some weeks, I changed the assignments to make some readings optional. Discussion and/or coverage of main course content generally precluded the introduction of some of the hands-on activities I had planned for class meetings, and I was disappointed in that. Students seemed to have some difficulty getting their heads wrapped around what a Learning Object was my notes indicate extra class time/emails explaining it throughout the semester. However, student performance in class and on assignments did not indicate to me that these issues were impacting student learning. From Laracuentes Perspective (as student) Why I took the class: Before I put words in my former selfs mouth when I registered for the class I did not expect to have an outcome for public archaeology projects other than Wow; this is really cool! My goals were just to share what I was doing, and why it was relevant.

I wanted to know how to work with the public. I already had had varied experiences working with different age groups, but I had managed this through flexibility, making mistakes, and learning by the seat of my pants. I craved training in how to conduct public archaeology in a way that was more effective. This is why I chose the University of West Florida (UWF) for my masters program. Their public archaeology was not taught in a classroom; it was taught in the field. They got the message across to the public that archaeology is here, and it is good through a shock and awe form of archaeology. Their program, of large block excavations in the middle of downtown Pensacola with large numbers of field school students, billboards advertising the archaeology program and public lectures, radio programs, and a partnership with local groups, had been built and strengthened during several decades of archaeological work. When I registered for Hendersons public archaeology class, I was hoping for background none of my previous classes had introduced me to literature about public archaeology. My work at UWF gave me experience with public archaeology projects that were supported by substantial infrastructure and funding. I felt that there had to be other examples of public archaeology being done without that expense and still succeeding. I was also hoping for support I had gotten through most of my previous public archaeology work on pure enthusiasm about archaeology and the work I was involved in. If my enthusiasm was infectious enough, the program succeeded and went well. And if not, then it didnt. Techniques that I could learn in the class might give me more tools to make projects succeed. I thought that Hendersons public archaeology class would be interesting, but I did not consider the possibility that it would be useful for my dissertation work.

What I thought worked well: The way in which this class was taught (lots of hands-on activities, a variety of topics and tasks slated for each class, working with entities outside of the class) engaged me in the way that I prefer to learn. The class felt more like a real job than a class and required a larger dedication of time than my other courses that semester. However, the syllabus laid out what the goals of the class were and I mostly ignored the noise of details changing at the last minute (most of the time these details were clarifications and did not change the original product that was due).

My final product, a Learning Object about how the perspective of a landscape, created through both lived experience and maps, changes how one views and acts within that landscape, was informed by archaeological and geographical theories with which I was already comfortable. I designed the object so that it could have been used nearly anywhere with just minor tweaks to incorporate the local history or

archaeological content. The design of my Learning Object meant that I did not have to do as much unfamiliar research for the large paper at the beginning of class. Since I was able to adequately prepare for each class, I put my energy into doing background research on public archaeology itself. The class syllabus and the bibliographies of the class readings highlighted the public archaeology literature that I hoped to find in this class. I could have found this literature before, but I did not since they werent related to my thesis work, and I didnt have access to article databases before I started graduate school. The vocabulary that I learned in this course put words to ideas that I knew existed but didnt know how to refer to them scaffolding, sticky knowledge, learning goals, big ideas, enduring understandings, learning types, etc.

What I thought needed improvement: The Learning Object was overwhelmingly focused on how kids learn. Many of the hands-on activities also focused on grade school classes or activities developed for them. After a while, I lost grasp of the fact the teaching techniques that we were learning about were applicable to much more than just grade school students. Some sort of activity (more than one spread across a semester - there was so much sticky knowledge that semester, this knowledge didnt stick) that demonstrates how these techniques are applicable to different audiences would have made (what should have been obvious) apparent to those of us who are just coming into being as professionals with an interest in public archaeology.

Teachable Moments Every instructor, at one time or another, experiences teachable moments those unplanned situations or unexpected/unanticipated student comments or questions or reflections that serve as a platform to extend and deepen learning. Had all the students provided a glowing course evaluation, we would not have felt compelled to prepare this paper or research the pedagogical issues that surround the teaching of public archaeology. A tweak here and there, adjustments to the readings, and the course would have been ready to go for the next offering.

An overall lukewarm student reception would have occasioned a deeper consideration of how to improve the course, perhaps a formal discussion with departmental colleagues. Still, there would have been no compelling reason to prepare a written assessment and consideration to share with colleagues, such as this paper.

However, this was not the case. Anonymous student assessment on the standardized university evaluation

form was sharply bimodal: three students gave the course overall high marks, and three gave it very low overall marks (one evaluation form was never counted). Critical comments from students should be expected, but the dissatisfaction registered seemed excessive and came as a complete surprise to Henderson. Four students provided detailed, generally critical, written evaluations on the university form. One students responses on the instructors own course evaluation form (passed out to students to complete if they cared to) were overwhelmingly positive.

Both sets challenged Henderson to take a hard look at what went right, what went wrong, and to attempt to explain why. What was/were its source(s)?

Laracuente offered to provide his insights about the class to help contextualize the course from the student perspective. Based on the significant role public archaeology plays in todays archaeology, in his opinion, a public archaeology course fulfills an essential need. Students should be chomping at the bit for this knowledge, as it isnt available elsewhere in the graduate curriculum.

Problems specific to this course, as well as broader issues that were at work are discussed below.

Idiosyncratic Factors

A certain amount of student dissatisfaction stemmed from idiosyncratic factors related to this course alone: its structure and format, how it was operationalized, instructor teaching experience and style, and the nature of communication. Although titled Seminar in, the course was not really a seminar in the common use of the term. Only occasionally did students read, then come to class and discuss assigned readings with minimal instructor moderation. The course focus was much more about methods and techniques, and students experiencing them. The syllabus indicated this, but the title did not. This uncommon format, coupled with the nonarchaeological subject matter (application of archaeological facts and ideas outside an archaeological context and audience) took students outside their learning comfort zone. Students had no prior content knowledge of the case study sites cultural resources, but it was essential that they develop that knowledge early in the course, as it served as the foundation for the other course assignments relating to their Learning Object. Although some information was available about a few of these recourses, for others, it was not. Thus, several students had to carry out original research before they

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could complete the ungraded draft that presented the content information.

In a real-world public archaeology situation, this often happens. Archaeologists must dig into a subject they are not familiar with for facts that provide the informational content that serves as the foundation for writing, for exhibits, for activities, for presentations to the public, and so forth.

But a course is not a real-world public archaeology situation. Henderson did not anticipate the problems the assignment or its timing caused. Most students approached it as if it was a term paper. Some amassed enormous amounts of primary source information, then wrote background papers that were longer and more detailed than they needed to be. This was not necessarily a drawback, for it meant the students were well positioned to draw on their content paper from many different perspectives for their Learning Object.

The timing of the assignment (due on Week 6) also was different from what they were used to in a seminar. This, too, presented a roadblock to learning for some. With energies spent, they became discouraged as the semester progressed.

A first time course and a first time seminar instructor can be a lethal combination. For half of the students enrolled in this course, it was.

In the interest of clarifying unresolved questions about readings, course logistics, and assignments, and in an attempt to share with all students instructor responses to questions emailed directly by individual students, Henderson sent emails to all students between class meetings. These emails in some cases added to, rather than dissipating, confusion and enhanced overall student anxiety about the course.

Broader Issues

Idiosyncratic course problems did not impair course enjoyment or learning for half of the students. For the other half, these were seen as serious problems. Why? It is our hypothesis that the students who could overlook this courses structural shortcomings were those who had had previous public archaeology experiences visiting classrooms, talking to the public during on-site tours, and so forth. As apprentices (Levstik and Barton 2001:37 present four categories to assess student performance, from lowest to highest they are novice, apprentice, proficient, and distinguished), they came to the course looking for ways to fit a conceptual and methodological framework down over

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the experiences they already had. And they found them. The other students lacked this prior experience. They were novices. The course structure/format did not provide enough scaffolding for their learning experience it assumed too much prior knowledge.

It is also possible that the disappointed students were marginally interested in, but not deeply interested in, the subject matter. Thus, once involved in the course, they did not see the value in the subject matter. This may have been true especially if their career goals had a more academic focus. We would contend that university instruction in archaeology is public archaeology, and that public archaeology concepts, methods, and techniques are applicable in that setting as well, but many are not of this opinion. And Laracuentes point above, that he did not realize how the course activities had broad applicability to many publics indicates that providing context for students learning in this area fell short.

Henderson was sobered to learn that Laracuente signed up for the course because it sounded like fun. Really? Thats it? While this is somewhat of an oversimplification, since he definitely saw its utility, he wasnt paying attention to learning goals when he decided to enroll in the class. His reasoning should prompt instructors to remember that students take courses for a host of serious and not-so-serious reasons (this is the real world of college, after all). Fully formed career-targeted learning goals do not necessarily inform student course selection.

Henderson was surprised to learn from the course evaluations that students were unprepared for and distressed about the changes she made to the syllabus during the semester. These changes set-up obstacles to learning, even though students were provided with plenty of lead time.

Laracuente has suggested that letting students know right from the beginning to expect malleability in the course schedule could address this issue. When reminded that syllabus malleability was clearly and formally spelled out on our class schedule, he responded: That disclaimer is always in a syllabus but it never actually happens. Thus, just because students are alerted to potential course format changes in the syllabus doesnt mean students believe they will happen, or that they wont be bothered by the changes when they do occur.

Henderson was also very surprised by the pushback from some students regarding the course format. A paper (ungraded) was due at the end of the first third of the course. The course, though listed as a seminar, wasnt taught in true seminar format.

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The seminar room is a realm where discussion never has to move past the conceptual and theoretical. Aside from those departmental programs with an explicitly applied focus, students very rarely hit the practical side of the equation in seminars. But this course was mainly about the practical side.

Laracuente has suggested that perhaps the biggest hurdle to overcome in a graduate public archaeology course of this type is to overcome the need to be an expert. Students spend semester after semester pouring over articles written by preeminent archaeologists, arguing over the meaning of archaeological jargon and deciding where those terms apply. Critiquing articles strengthens the role of expert because students have the power of hindsight to realize the quite obvious flaws in an authors arguments. The role of expert or leader is the desired position. However, the graduate student ego is fragile. Zellner (2011) describes this as the imposter syndrome. That is, even though graduate students are working on advanced degrees in their fields, they lack the confidence of a seasoned professional. They are convinced that other students can see through the farce; that they really are the poorest/slowest/dumbest person in the room. Even worse, they fear that professors will realize they are imposters and question the decision to let the students into the program, fund them, or write recommendations for future job prospects.

Seminar-style classes reinforce this model. Public archaeology flips this standard model on its head. A public archaeologist very rarely, if ever, gets to maintain the sole role of expert. Coming into a community to educate residents about your perspective without listening to theirs smacks of elitism and could be counter-productive to developing any type of working relationship.

The challenge is to teach graduate students how to use their subject matter knowledge to succeed in different roles. They need to realize that the roles of servant, collaborator, facilitator, leader, and expert are all hats worn by a public archaeologist, and that in the classroom context, each role is equally capable of helping the student get the desired grade.

And finally, even if the course subject is presented in a methods, and not in a seminar, format, there are still important differences between a methods course in public archaeology and those more commonly part of the graduate curriculum, like lithic or ceramic analysis, statistics, or geophysical survey. Working at public archaeology is not like working with colleagues on a common research problem inside the discipline. Doing public archaeology involves the application/translation/communication of specialized

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knowledge and information in a different vocabulary structure and for different purposes in often unpredictable social contexts outside of archaeology/anthropology.

Pedagogical Considerations and Broader Suggestions

This teachable moment compelled us to identify ways to improve the course. One way was to contextualize it, relative to other public archaeology courses, in order to identify the pedagogical elements common to successful instruction. Were there others like it? What elements and learning goals did these courses share? Were there standard best practice techniques? Overarching pitfalls? What were some of the issues others have considered when developing their public archaeology courses?

The pedagogical considerations and broader suggestions we offer in this paper are drawn from the insights weve gained from several contexts: - consideration of student course evaluations and our own reflections on the course; - comparison to other public archaeology course syllabi that have been taught many times over with generally positive overall student feedback; - informal telephone interviews with a handful of public archaeology course instructors. (We identified these individuals by following the thread of available on-line course syllabi, such as the ones on the Society for American Archaeologys Archaeology for the Public webpages {http://www.saa.org/publicftp/public/home/home.html} and the MATRIX Project {http://www.indiana.edu/~arch/saa/matrix/homepage.html}; contacting individuals who responded in 2009 with information and suggestions as Henderson was developing the course; and searching the web for universities with public archaeology courses on their books); - anonymous responses from a handful of students who had taken a public archaeology course in the U.S. and the U.K. (Working from the same informal list of questions, we adapted it into a Google survey form that allowed open-ended, essay style responses to each question, then a link to the survey, distributed through Laracuentes Twitter, Google+, and Facebook accounts, allowed the opportunity for archaeologists and archaeology students to respond anonymously); and finally - our wide-ranging conversations during the process of preparing this paper.

Pedagogical Considerations

Our pedagogical considerations are of two sorts: specific, practical suggestions and broader issues to keep in mind when developing a public archaeology course.

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Suggestions for Practice Instructor enthusiasm, knowledge, and experience of a courses subject can only go so far. Enthusiasm must be tempered by realistic expectations about what students can/will do. Less can be more. An overloaded syllabus and naive expectations of what students can accomplish in sixteen 2.5-hour class meetings plus many hours of out-of-class work (students indicated that the load for this course was more than most) creates speed bumps for student learning.

Offering a methods and techniques course in public archaeology is not a bad idea, but requires the consent of the instructor so that particulars of the course can be adjusted to fit the students previous experience and knowledge categories (novice-apprentice-proficient-distinguished).

Just because email and other electronic options for communication are available does not mean students want to hear from you between class meetings.

Students can learn without brutally authentic real-world experiences offered within a course setting. Hendersons initial plans to have students physically visit a fifth-grade classroom to observe teaching practice were shelved when a colleague in the University of Kentuckys Department of Curriculum and Instruction explained why this was not a good idea: it would be disruptive to the fifth-graders learning, and if my students observations were conducted on different days, there would be no guarantee of shared experiences. She explained that learning goals could still be met by having students view a video of a master teacher. And she was correct. (We have subsequently learned from our instructor informants that there may be very valid concerns about engaging undergraduate and graduate students in hands-on learning with local populations [see below]). The authenticity of the Learning Object assignment could similarly have been adjusted and simplified, without the loss of a real-world experience. A critique of a lesson could have been substituted.

While public archaeology is in the doing, and there is no substitute for real-world experiences as instructional tools, if students prior experience in public archaeology is low to non-existent, successful doing will require much more scaffolding, possibly more than can be provided in a single course.

Broader Suggestions

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We identify four continua to consider when developing a public archaeology course. The amount of students prior public archaeology experience affects each one.

Course Purpose: Exposure or Experience?

If students are novices (and our research indicates that most students, either graduate or undergraduate, are novices), then the purpose of a public archaeology course should be to expose students to all the various facets of the subject. If students have some public archaeology experience, however, then the course should spend some time covering methods and techniques and provide students with some amount of structured learning opportunities including hands-on experiential learning.

Course Format: Discussion or Activities?

What is the best structure for a course in public archaeology? There are many, and all contribute to successful student learning. Depending on the instructors interests and the students experience, they can range from exclusively discussion format to discussion and in-class experiential/hands-on elements/exercises and a site visit or real-world project involvement.

A variety of course project(s) can be tools for evaluating student learning. In our discussions with instructors, they mentioned a host of student projects: brochures, signs; classroom lessons; a website/trail study for a city park. These products can be developed with the understanding that the best of them will be given as a gift to the park.

Course Elements: Simulation or Reality?

Are in-class exercises effective experiential learning tools, or should actual archaeology experiences be incorporated as formal elements of a course? This depends on the students experience. Some students will be ready for this; others will not. We were surprised by a resounding No! from two instructors, however. They definitely do NOT insert students (either undergraduates or graduates) into the relationships they have built-up over years of professional involvement with an organization or site as part of something as ephemeral as a semesterlong course. They cited two different reasons: they do not want students turned loose without experience, or they consider it unethical to use the public as a guinea pig for a college course. These informants said

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that, once trained, students can be involved in real-world public archaeology experiences. For these instructors, reading and considering case studies was better.

But how will students know how to do public archaeology if they are not given the opportunity to do it and get feedback in a safe environment? An experience Laracuente had provides insight here. At a public venue, as part of a research assistantship, he watched a seasoned public archaeologists presentation a few times before doing it himself. After Laracuente presented, the veteran answered questions about methods and techniques (i.e., he served as a coach). Perhaps public archaeology coaching could work in the same way a student shadows a surgeon: they dont cut; they just watch.

Course Elements: Create, Critique, or Conduct? Within the context of a public archaeology course, when should students create products (booklets, comics, websites) and when should they focus their energies, instead, on critiquing others? Again, it depends on the experience students bring to the course. Critiquing for novices provides the better learning context; for those with more practical experience, asking them to create is better. While these three options offer logistical flexibility, the choice could have unintended consequences on student learning. Informed by Laracuentes online survey, respondents discussed the need to play different roles while interacting with the public. However, when the responses from those who took a formal course were compared with those who learned public archaeology by the seat-of-their-pants, a difference in how they speak about the public emerges. Those who have taken a public archaeology class (it is unclear if interactive components were included) discuss the need to be careful when communicating; the need for engagement to keep the public interested; and the need to keep in mind the politics of these situations. The respondents who never took a class discuss being approachable; forming communities; confidence; relevance; value of archaeological projects; and trust and respect of the public. This suggests that doing (versus reading about) public archaeology impacts the positionality of students in a way that promotes a role of partner with a community rather than an us versus them situation. The respondents are all currently active in different forms of public archaeology and plan to continue supplementing their experience through further work and reading. Could an archaeologists first public archaeology experience (positive or negative, hands-on or theoretical), and the treatment of the associated publics, impact the framework in which they conduct public archaeology during the rest of their careers? The fact that one respondent cites that previous work

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in the service industry shaped their outlook on public archaeology seems to support the need for more research to address this question.

Course Improvements, Authors 3-2-1s, and Conclusions

The need to identify ways in which to improve the public archaeology course Henderson developed and taught prompted the preparation of this paper. Before we provide our personal 3-2-1s and concluding remarks, listed here are a few of the improvements that should be considered if the course is offered again.

Course Improvements

1. adjust the amount and nature of the hands-on, real-world experiences. Most students who take the course will have had little or no experience in public archaeology. If students with some experience sign up, they can still learn valuable lessons. If there is a wide range in prior experience, consider pairing students up (low and high) to distribute that experience. This would simulate the real-world: everyone has different expertise they can bring to the table and will wear different hats at different times.

2. reduce the amount of specific lesson development required. For example, expose students to the Common Core Standards (that they exist, and that they are important, and a little bit about how they work) but dont require students to apply them in concrete ways. 3. include more critique and less create. This might mean changing the focus of the major graded course project. It could take the form of a written assessment about: - one type of public archaeology technique (students would write about the effectiveness of understanding childrens psychological development (i.e., earth as pancake) and how you change the content of a public archaeology project to match the audience). - learning models - public archaeology approaches to different types of media Or students could be asked to evaluate whatever issue they are going to be writing about while working on their group public archaeology. The lack of a grade might make the group work flow better.

4. if the development of a Learning Object remains the main graded course project, structure its development so that students draw on content knowledge they already possess and do not include all the

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elements of a real Learning Object. Authors 3-2-1 Reflections Hendersons 3-2-1

Three Insights:

Just because a course looks good on paper does not mean it will succeed in the doing. Know your

student audience. Dont overload your syllabus. Be mindful of time management and leave enough time. Challenge students but maintain a balance. Learn from your mistakes. Seek objective feedback from seasoned instructors. Then move on.

Upon reflection, it appears to me that the course I offered was geared to students who, on the

continuum of novice-apprentice-proficient-distinguished, were seasoned apprentices. In actuality, I had both novices and new apprentices. Through student participation in this course, I expected they would move from seasoned apprentice to newly proficient. But this was asking too much. Students moved forward, but not out of, their knowledge category.

Not until a student has had to explain an archaeological idea, method, or fact to the public, in

either written or oral form, will he or she truly understand exactly how difficult, and how challenging it is to communicate with our diverse publics and do it well, honestly, respectfully, responsibly, and accurately. It is every bit as hard to do as it is to write and speak in an academic context. In addition, it takes humility. There is an art and a science to this. Our discipline should value and count this kind of scholarship.

Two New Ideas:

You CAN teach public archaeology without providing a real-world experience! By keeping in

mind the four continua we identified, you CAN teach public archaeology by discussing, critiquing, simulating, and merely exposing students to the subject. I can still stay true to the reasons I developed the course to begin with and meet my course learning goals; and I will not have failed them as an instructor or my responsibilities to the discipline.

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More often than not students, including graduate students, will not have had much or any prior

experience in public archaeology. If the goal of a public archaeology course is to expose, then undergraduates and graduates can take the same course.

One Question:

A survey of how the subjects of public archaeology/CRM were being taught at the collegiate

level (Smith and Krass 2000) revealed that 40 departments (only about one-third of the respondents) offered one or more primarily dedicated courses (Smith and Krass 2000:21). However, 12 years later, we had difficulty finding public archaeology courses listed as formal course offerings. Hopefully, this can be easily explained by the mechanics of our search. However, it could signal something else. How long will it take for a majority of American anthropology departments to implement the curricular reform (Bender and Smith 2000 ) proposed in 2000? Laracuentes 3-2-1

Three Insights:

For me, Henderson's public archaeology class provided me confidence to engage with public

archaeology. The learning-by-the-seat-of-your-pants learning style imbues every public archaeology event with a small amount of doubt that you are doing the right thing. The literature review of public archaeology and pedagogical techniques provides the metaphorical shoulders on which to stand and eliminate that doubt.

I realize that I define public archaeology more broadly in practice than I do in the classroom. I

think that ANYTIME we interact with people who are not trained professional archaeologists we are conducting public archaeology. Public archaeology begins when we have to defend our college major to our parents. Public archaeology can take place in Section 106 compliance consultation, in Boy Scout merit badge clinics, or in a conversation at a coffee shop. The tools we learn in classes like Henderson's are applicable to all of these situations. As a TA or part time instructor graduate students have the opportunity to practice public

archaeology techniques. I put this into practice with the first class in which I was the primary instructor. Icebreakers, Think-Pair-Shares, and 3-2-1s all made an appearance in my class. Attendance was taken

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through 1-Minute Papers. While I suppose these are not new to seasoned teachers, I picked these techniques up in Hendersons class and my students had a better experience because of it.

Two New Ideas:

Because of problems in traditional educational structures, would it be better to concentrate on

fleshing-out public archaeology education in non-traditional settings? Most of us are exposed to public archaeology in an internship (or blacksmith apprentice model learning context). Perhaps a method of quantifying /qualifying those experiences and tempering the experience through mentorships or online focus groups would be an effective way to train and hone the skills of those who are interested in public archaeology. University classes would serve to expose everyone to the purpose of public archaeology in the same way that we are exposed (but don't become experts in) other types of archaeological methodology.

Public archaeology (or anthropology) can be included in every class a college student takes

through Community Service Learning projects. Through volunteer work, students assume the role of listener. Activities at the end of the semester can link the archaeological and anthropological methods learned in class with the real-world experiences of volunteer work outside class. Students who are exposed to this type of learning early in their academic careers may have an easier time letting go of the role of expert when they engage public archaeology projects.

One Question:

Is the commitment to public archaeology correlated with the ties of an archaeologist to a community? If so, is there an ethical obligation of college and university anthropology departments to include on their faculty individuals who focus their research in the local communities around that college? Could public archaeology be one way that anthropology departments become frontrunners in strengthening the "town and gown relationship?

Conclusions

Our own enthusiasm for public archaeology makes it difficult for us to appreciate that for some, public archaeology is simply not going to be their cup of tea. Nevertheless, wed like to see an elective public archaeology course be part of every departments curriculum, so that all archaeology/anthropology

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students everywhere can have the option for exposure to public archaeology. This may require a paradigm shift within the academy, repositioning public archaeology as a methods class that is just as valid (and just as needed) as lithic, ceramic, faunal, or botanical analysis.

Achieving this change requires a change in the focus of public archaeology, from what it is, to what it does: facilitate the flow of archaeological information. This change in perspective will permit us to focus our energies on engaging other publics that we commonly overlook. Reframing other professions (architecture, city planning, design, finance, zoology, etc) and other academic disciplines (chemistry, music, physics, geography) as publics to be engaged through archaeology will promote interdisciplinary interaction by ensuring that these audiences have a deep and complex understanding of archaeological concepts. Shifting the roles that we play in these interactions will result in as much listening as teaching, meaning that our understanding of how archaeology fits into these disciplines is comprehensive. In this way, public archaeology can facilitate collaboration resulting in a more holistic archaeology that operationalizes a true anthropological archaeology.

We do not advocate that all archaeologists embrace public archaeology as their specialty. But we do expect ALL twenty-first century archaeologists, before embarking on an experience outside the discipline where interaction with non-archaeologists will take place (ANY situation where interaction with nonarchaeologists will take place), to ask themselves:

1. Who is my audience? 2. What story do I want to tell? 3. Can I convey this to my audience accurately, responsibly, and respectfully? If the answer is yes, then carry on! But if the answer is no, seek help or the advice or the services of an expert. Archaeologists are used to finding experts to tell them everything from the history of soil formation at a site to the age of an artifact. If you are not a lithics expert, do you attempt a detailed lithics analysis without instruction in the theories, methods, and interpretations? No. The same holds true with respect to public archaeology.

Our discipline now holds a cadre of public archaeology experts and a vast literature in public archaeology: theories, issues, methods, and techniques. We, like the students we teach, must embrace twenty-first century archaeology.

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Acknowledgements We would like to thank the symposium organizers, Phyllis Messenger and Susan Bender, for organizing this electronic symposium and for giving us the opportunity to participate. It provided us an outlet for our conversation about this course and the opportunity to make some kind of meaningful sense out of it. Many thanks go to the many individuals who provided Henderson with insights and feedback and critiques as she was developing the course in 2009. We would like to thank Bev Chiarulli, Pam Cressey, John Jameson, Patti Jeppson, Tom Pluckhahn, and Carol McDavid for sharing their thoughts during our informal telephone interviews with them, and thank the eight anonymous students who replied to our online query of the same questions on March 7, 2012. Henderson also would like to thank all the students who took her 2010 course in public archaeology. The experience of developing this course and syllabus was a challenge; teaching the seminar and seeing the learning that took place was a thrill. That it also produced such wonderful and (simultaneously) awful course evaluations brought home just how significant hands-on formal training in public archaeology really is. I never had an opportunity (nor did professors ever encourage me) to get any formal training in course development during my graduate career. Once you receive the degree in the subject matter, it is assumed you can effectively teach it; and thus there is so much needless trial and error, to the detriment of student learning. Our common class experience taught me many things, and your honest anonymous evaluations have taught me even more. Notes
1

At this writing, the first offering of the companion course, Seminar in Public Anthropology: Cultural Identity Politics and Cultural Property, will be during the Fall 2012 semester.
2

The major elements in the Learning Object were Background Content Essay (one to two pages written for instructors) Fieldtrip/Outdoor Learning Experience (including pre-visit discussion questions and a suggested discovery activity at the case study site Fieldtrip/Outdoor Learning Experience Follow-up (post-visit discussion questions and at least one suggested follow-up activity) List of curriculum alignments to the relevant subjects for fourth and/or fifth grade List of links and resources for further reference
3

No course is offered at the University of Kentucky that touches on CRM/historic preservation laws/Section 106 and the like, although there is an underused independent study format course, CRM Clerkship, in which the student spends time working in the departments different archaeology units (i.e., museum, contract program, public outreach program, and State Archaeologist office). References Cited Bender, Susan J. (editor) 2000 A Proposal to Guide Curricular Reform for the Twenty-first Century, In Teaching Archaeology in the Twenty-first Century, edited by Susan J. Bender and George S. Smith, pp. 31-48. Society for American Archaeology, Washington, D.C. Bender, Susan J., and George S. Smith 2000 Teaching Archaeology in the Twenty-first Century. Society for American Archaeology, Washington, D.C.

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Jameson, John H., Jr. 2004 Public Archaeology in the United States. In Public Archaeology, edited by Nick Merriman, pp. 21-58. Routledge, London. Levstik, Linda S., and Keith C. Barton 2001 Doing History: Investigating With Children in Elementary and Middle Schools (2nd edition). Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Mahwah, New Jersey. Letts, Callie A., and Jeanne M. Moe 2009 Project Archaeology: Investigating Shelter. Montana State University, Bozeman, Montana. Little, Barbara J. 2007 Historical Archaeology: Why the Past Matters. Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek, California. McDavid, Carol 2009 Back To the Future: Response to Dawdy. Archaeological Dialogues 16(2). Nassaney, Michael S. 2009 The Reform of Archaeological Pedagogy and Practice Though Community Service Learning. In Archaeology and Community Service Learning, edited by Michael S. Nassaney and Mary Ann Levine, pp. 3-35. University Press of Florida, Gainesville. Shackel, Paul A., and Lena Mortensen 2006 Some Thoughts About the Graduate Curriculum. The SAA Archaeological Record (Nov):23-24. Smardz Frost, Karolyn E. 2004 Archaeology and Public Education in North America: View From the Beginning of the Millennium. In Public Archaeology, edited by Nick Merriman, pp. 59-84. Routledge, London. Smith, George S. and Dorothy Schlotthauer Krass 2000 SAA Surveys Regarding Public Archaeology/Cultural Resource Management and Teaching. In Teaching Archaeology in the Twenty-first Century, edited by Susan J. Bender and George S. Smith, pp. 21-27. Society for American Archaeology, Washington, D.C. Smith, George S. 2006 Skills, Knowledge, and Abilities: Archaeology in the 21st Century. The SAA Archaeological Record (Nov):30-31. Smith, Shelley J., Jeanne M. Moe, Kelly A. Letts, and Danielle M. Paterson 1996 Intrigue of the Past: A Teacher's Activity Guide for Fourth Through Seventh Grades. U.S. Dept. of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management, Washington, D.C. Stottman, M. Jay (editor) 2010 Archaeologists As Activists: Can Archaeologists Change the World? University of Alabama Press, Tuscaloosa. Weisman, Brent R. 2006 The New Curriculum is More Than Courses. The SAA Archaeological Record (Nov):27-28. Wiggins, Grant, and Jay McTighe 1998 Understanding By Design. Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development,

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Alexandria, Virginia. Zellner, Andrea 2011 Banishing Imposter Syndrome. Posted September 2, 2011 on www.gradhacker.org. Last accessed March 20, 2012. http://www.gradhacker.org/2011/09/02/banishing-impostor-syndrome/ Zygouris-Coe, Vicky, Matthew B. Wiggins, and Lourdes H. Smith 2004 Engaging Students with Text: The 3-2-1 Strategy. The Reading Teacher 58(4):381-384.

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