Classroom
Course Goes with the Flow
It's ten o'clock on a wet Tuesday morning in June, and history professor John Sharpless is standing in front of a loosely assembled group of bleary-eyed students at a campground in Portage, Wisconsin. After a night of thunderstorms, their tents are wet, their gear is strewn about, and everyone is tired.
The professor begins to lecture about water safety. "Life jackets at all times today," he warns. "Whatever you do today, don't try and stop yourself by grabbing a branch. You'll flip around and tip over."
It's not a typical discussion section for a course dealing with American history, but this is no typical course. Sharpless is leading the sixteen students of History 290 (titled American History: A Laboratory Approach) on a four-week expedition that will take them from Oshkosh to the mouth of the Wisconsin River. They're journeying almost the entire way by canoe - making for one of the most unconventional and logistically challenging classes at UW-Madison.
As Sharpless finishes his comments, the students set to work tearing down the campsite, brushing teeth, and packing gear. Sharpless turns his attention to a gas grill. "Who wants hot cereal?" he yells.
The professor begins to lecture about water safety. "Life jackets at all times today," he warns. "Whatever you do today, don't try and stop yourself by grabbing a branch. You'll flip around and tip over."
It's not a typical discussion section for a course dealing with American history, but this is no typical course. Sharpless is leading the sixteen students of History 290 (titled American History: A Laboratory Approach) on a four-week expedition that will take them from Oshkosh to the mouth of the Wisconsin River. They're journeying almost the entire way by canoe - making for one of the most unconventional and logistically challenging classes at UW-Madison.
As Sharpless finishes his comments, the students set to work tearing down the campsite, brushing teeth, and packing gear. Sharpless turns his attention to a gas grill. "Who wants hot cereal?" he yells.
In a few hours, the group will drop canoes into the Wisconsin River and start floating westward, paddling down what Sharpless calls Wisconsin's original interstate and into the heart of its history, ecology, geology, and culture. Following the path of Father Jacques-Pierre Marquette's 1673 journey to the Mississippi River, the course will take students some two hundred miles along the Fox and Wisconsin Rivers. More than just a field trip or simple historical recreation, the summer-session course is an experiment in interactive learning, which Sharpless designed to give students broad exposure to Wisconsin's past and present.
The students complete required reading along the route, but the majority of the course's content comes between travel days, when the group sets up camp at various spots along the rivers. At these locations, the students visit local landmarks, talk with area historians and leaders, and hear presentations from experts and UW professors enlisted by Sharpless to explore a variety of topics. Ecology, biology, and politics are all fair game.
The curriculum isn't set in stone, however; self-exploration is intentionally a big element. Sharpless designed the journey specifically to allow students to investigate the subjects they encounter along the way that interest them most. And while there are no tests, students make regular observations in open-ended journals.
The students complete required reading along the route, but the majority of the course's content comes between travel days, when the group sets up camp at various spots along the rivers. At these locations, the students visit local landmarks, talk with area historians and leaders, and hear presentations from experts and UW professors enlisted by Sharpless to explore a variety of topics. Ecology, biology, and politics are all fair game.
The curriculum isn't set in stone, however; self-exploration is intentionally a big element. Sharpless designed the journey specifically to allow students to investigate the subjects they encounter along the way that interest them most. And while there are no tests, students make regular observations in open-ended journals.
Sharpless lives and breathes Wisconsin. A local historian and one-time candidate for U.S. Congress, Sharpless could fill the whole trip with anecdotes and lecture fodder. But he deliberately has taken on a different role, devoting more time to coordinating the trip and its participants. With three transport vans and eight canoes, he has plenty to do, although he is always willing to elaborate on something the group has encountered.
"I don't think I have to provide a theme, except that these two rivers are a passage through time," Sharpless says.
The group's Tuesday in Portage comes at the trip's halfway point. After spending ten days traveling southwest along the Fox River, the students find themselves dealing with the faster current of the Wisconsin River for the first time. The going is enjoyably easy. As they paddle, the students howl, sing, and poke fun at their professor's large sun hat. "I think that's why we call him Johnny Canoe," a student notes.
As the group makes its way along the river, Sharpless points out bald eagles circling overhead, as well as several notable rock formations. Passing a power plant, he relays its history. Soon, he's on a cell phone, trying to find a place to camp that night. The islands that he and a teaching assistant previously scouted are too swampy, and Sharpless makes some quick arrangements for the group to camp at a park in the town of Dekorra.
"I don't think I have to provide a theme, except that these two rivers are a passage through time," Sharpless says.
The group's Tuesday in Portage comes at the trip's halfway point. After spending ten days traveling southwest along the Fox River, the students find themselves dealing with the faster current of the Wisconsin River for the first time. The going is enjoyably easy. As they paddle, the students howl, sing, and poke fun at their professor's large sun hat. "I think that's why we call him Johnny Canoe," a student notes.
As the group makes its way along the river, Sharpless points out bald eagles circling overhead, as well as several notable rock formations. Passing a power plant, he relays its history. Soon, he's on a cell phone, trying to find a place to camp that night. The islands that he and a teaching assistant previously scouted are too swampy, and Sharpless makes some quick arrangements for the group to camp at a park in the town of Dekorra.
"I talked to the town clerk, and she's going to call the head of the town board and get back to me," Sharpless announces from his canoe. By the time the group arrives, permission has been secured, and an official comes to greet the group a short time later.
Sharpless admits that teaching with such a complex format presents a challenge. He needs to provide enough formal material and planned activities to make the trip rich in content, but he also needs to stay flexible and be willing to go, quite literally, with the flow.
In Portage, for example, Sharpless had prearranged a number of activities designed to expose students to the city's unique place in Wisconsin history. On one morning, the professor and a few students participate in a local radio talk show. Callers regale the group with tales of Portage trivia and history.
When one caller asks about the group's most exciting experience, student Mike Schumacher x'03 tells of finding a baby rattlesnake on a hiking trail the day before. Later, after students take advantage of public showers and laundry, they tour historic sites, including the Indian Agency House, where early government officials interacted with the local Native American community.
Sharpless admits that teaching with such a complex format presents a challenge. He needs to provide enough formal material and planned activities to make the trip rich in content, but he also needs to stay flexible and be willing to go, quite literally, with the flow.
In Portage, for example, Sharpless had prearranged a number of activities designed to expose students to the city's unique place in Wisconsin history. On one morning, the professor and a few students participate in a local radio talk show. Callers regale the group with tales of Portage trivia and history.
When one caller asks about the group's most exciting experience, student Mike Schumacher x'03 tells of finding a baby rattlesnake on a hiking trail the day before. Later, after students take advantage of public showers and laundry, they tour historic sites, including the Indian Agency House, where early government officials interacted with the local Native American community.
The stop in Portage gives Kirsten Hedberg, a French major, the opportunity to satisfy an emerging curiosity about the lives of Marquette and Wisconsin-born naturalist John Muir x1863. After the set agenda for the day wraps up, she joins several students in seeking out the Portage public library, where she buries herself in reference materials. "You ask a few questions, and suddenly you're taken to places you'd never otherwise know," she says, pointing to a spot on a map. "We were just there!"
That night, reeking of bug spray, the students settle in for a lecture. Mike McManus MA'77, PhD'91, a part-time professor and history buff, talks about the history of Wisconsin politics while perched on a small log. A second presentation is a surprise - even to Sharpless.
While McManus talks and Sharpless cooks bacon and eggs, a truck pulls up to the campsite. Jeff Nania, the executive director of the Wisconsin Waterfowl Foundation, a wildlife restoration group, has heard the students talking about rattlesnakes on the radio. He comes to meet the group and ends up delivering an impromptu lecture on wilderness restoration and the politics surrounding efforts to preserve wildlife habitat.
That night, reeking of bug spray, the students settle in for a lecture. Mike McManus MA'77, PhD'91, a part-time professor and history buff, talks about the history of Wisconsin politics while perched on a small log. A second presentation is a surprise - even to Sharpless.
While McManus talks and Sharpless cooks bacon and eggs, a truck pulls up to the campsite. Jeff Nania, the executive director of the Wisconsin Waterfowl Foundation, a wildlife restoration group, has heard the students talking about rattlesnakes on the radio. He comes to meet the group and ends up delivering an impromptu lecture on wilderness restoration and the politics surrounding efforts to preserve wildlife habitat.
Although Sharpless hadn't planned for Nania's visit, it proves to be a perfect illustration of how this premise for education can work. Nania covers broad ground with the students, answering a range of questions on wetland drainage issues and environmental regulation.
"Your ability to integrate your knowledge will determine whether you have a good, healthy, successful life," Nania tells the group.
Such experiences contribute to what Sharpless calls "a smorgasbord" of a syllabus. "There are issues that are very immediate, like talking about chronic wasting disease or Jeff coming in and talking about wetlands restoration," he says. "But we also had a woman from the MacKenzie Center talking about plate tectonics.
"I don't feel like I have to put it together for them," he adds. "They're all intelligent people. I want them to take away the pieces they think fit into their own little narratives. What's impressive is that they use their off-hours so effectively."
Vince Trovato x'04, majoring in history, appreciates the interdisciplinary, open-ended approach, since so many topics central to Wisconsin are intertwined. It would be impossible, he points out, for someone like Nania to talk about his work without knowing something about the state's political climate. "If you don't know anything about politics, how are you going to get anything done with the environment?" he asks.
"Your ability to integrate your knowledge will determine whether you have a good, healthy, successful life," Nania tells the group.
Such experiences contribute to what Sharpless calls "a smorgasbord" of a syllabus. "There are issues that are very immediate, like talking about chronic wasting disease or Jeff coming in and talking about wetlands restoration," he says. "But we also had a woman from the MacKenzie Center talking about plate tectonics.
"I don't feel like I have to put it together for them," he adds. "They're all intelligent people. I want them to take away the pieces they think fit into their own little narratives. What's impressive is that they use their off-hours so effectively."
Vince Trovato x'04, majoring in history, appreciates the interdisciplinary, open-ended approach, since so many topics central to Wisconsin are intertwined. It would be impossible, he points out, for someone like Nania to talk about his work without knowing something about the state's political climate. "If you don't know anything about politics, how are you going to get anything done with the environment?" he asks.
The sense of the unexpected is only heightened that night, as a few students wander away from the camp and stumble across a couple of wayward cows, which have strayed down near a stream.
"Hey John!" someone yells. "Check this out!"
Sharpless wanders over, watching the students try to coax the animals back on course. "Only in Wisconsin!" he muses.
—Josh Orton x'04
"Hey John!" someone yells. "Check this out!"
Sharpless wanders over, watching the students try to coax the animals back on course. "Only in Wisconsin!" he muses.
—Josh Orton x'04
Class Note: Urdu
Languages and Cultures of Asia 359:
Readings in Advanced Urdu
With knowledge of the world's languages at a premium in government and elsewhere, UW-Madison's often-overlooked niche in Urdu, the official language of Pakistan and the native tongue of nearly 100 million people, is finally getting some due recognition. Professor Muhammad Umar Memon, an accomplished fiction writer and scholar of Islamic studies, is the resident expert. He publishes the only English-language journal in the world dealing with Urdu language and culture.
Readings in Advanced Urdu
With knowledge of the world's languages at a premium in government and elsewhere, UW-Madison's often-overlooked niche in Urdu, the official language of Pakistan and the native tongue of nearly 100 million people, is finally getting some due recognition. Professor Muhammad Umar Memon, an accomplished fiction writer and scholar of Islamic studies, is the resident expert. He publishes the only English-language journal in the world dealing with Urdu language and culture.
