Violence and Belonging: ASA 2003 as a Constructivist Learning Environment

Jo Barraclough Paoletti

American Studies Dept, University of Maryland

            Author’s note: This is in no way intended as a criticism of the effort invested in envisioning, organizing and running the 2003 American Studies Association conference. As a veteran of (too) many local arrangements and program committees, I have considerable sympathy – and even more respect – for everyone willing to take on such tasks. Furthermore, this critique is specifically not to be construed as an offer on my part to serve on any such committee in the future, least of all for the upcoming ASA meeting in Washington, D.C.

How does an interdisciplinary field like American Studies socialize newcomers and reaffirm connections among its more seasoned practitioners? Given the lack of standardized introductory courses at the undergraduate or graduate level, one would expect that such typically small, methodologically diverse and isolated programs would be hard-pressed to successfully recruit, train and professionalize emerging scholars. One might expect such a divergence of philosophy, method and language of discourse that the establishment of a strong, national or international-level professional society would be nearly impossible. In this paper, I argue that the American Studies Association, through its annual meetings, applies a constructivist learning approach to professionalize its members, using methods so effective and efficient that the transition from novice to expert can be accomplished within days, if not hours, of arrival at the conference. This constructivist approach is remarkable not only for its utter invisibility (most attendees are aware only that they are at a conference, not that they are actually in a sophisticated training environment) but for its attention to variations in learning styles, or preferences. The 2003 ASA meeting in Hartford, Connecticut is by far the most successful such environment in recent memory.

Constructivism is a pedagogical philosophy that argues that the most effective learning takes place in an environment where the student actively constructs his or her understanding, using experimentation, problem-solving or even play. Early constructivist theorists include John Dewey and Maria Montessori. Present-day constructivists advocate not only active learning, but also the design of environments, which take into account the variation in learning styles, based on the work of Howard Gardner and David Kolb. There are several different schemas used to categorize learners, but the most familiar use four main preferences: visual, aural, read/write and kinesthetic, or hands-on. Since aural and read/write learners are over-represented in the professorate, it is quite typical for most academic organizations to reply on written and spoken communication to convey information, from calls for papers to formal keynote addresses. For most aural and read/write learners, these delivery modes are perfectly comfortable and comprehensible. Text-based learners, for example, have little difficulty understanding what kinds of papers are desired for a conference on “Violence and Belonging” in an interdisciplinary context. At a basic level, even verbal and kinesthetic learners are quite capable of modeling their session titles after the examples given in the newsletter or on the ASA website; thus the graceful, nearly ubiquitous haiku of the two-part title. Transmission of this standard is accomplished by example rather than by instruction; nowhere in the call for papers is this format explicitly requested.

However, a meeting consisting only of formal papers would be painfully inaccessible to much of its audience, and ASA has recently taken steps to introduce alternative formats into its conferences. A close analysis of ASA 2003 suggests that this effort extends beyond the sessions, to the experience of attending the conference.  For example, the contradiction between the careful guidelines for ensuring that session handouts are accessible to those with limited vision and exquisite inaccessibility of a pocket program printed with sepia ink in six-point type is an atextual tour de force on marginality and (un)belonging. Scheduling portions of the program in such a way that attendees were forced to dodge five lanes of traffic to reach their sessions wordlessly underscored the violence lurking beneath the surface in American society. As strongly visual and kinesthetic learner, I found myself completely enmeshed in this cognitive labyrinth within thirty minutes of my arrival on Thursday morning, (as I made my second circuit of the Hartford Civic Center in search of the area shown on page 19 of the program book) and it continued to engage me through the entire conference. The thoroughness of the planning was evident in the care taken to include not only the program book, pocket guide and layout, but the accommodations as well; after a poor night’s sleep at the Crowne Plaza, I compared notes with another kinesthetic learning staying at the Hilton and discovered that both hotels featured beds that were made as confining as any straitjacket. For years, I struggled to grasp the meaning of hegemony, only to find its meaning under the brutal covers of my bed’s attractive yet unwelcoming tightness? Bravo(a), ASA!

I realize that not everyone will agree with this unorthodox reading of ASA 2003. My colleagues who are not so visually or kinesthetically oriented may not have noticed these nuanced arrangements, or may have seen them as annoyances, inconveniences or worse. No doubt John Stephen’s email inbox is overflowing with harsh complaints and demands that the Atlanta meeting in 2004 be purged of these helpful innovations. On behalf of the visual and kinesthetic learners in ASA, I suggest that the resulting conference would privilege text-based and aural learners and make it difficult, if not impossible for others to gain any benefit from attending the meeting. Without constructivist learning environments such as those pioneered at ASA 2003,we might as well stay home and read American Quarterly.