Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Chapter 2, Part One: The Live Creature and “Etherial Things”

Unfortunately, for the last five days I have been suffering from a severe cold that has kept me from delving more fully into my independent study. I will try my best to regain some ground!

Upon reading Chapter 2 of Dewey’s text, I’ve realized that perhaps not all of the chapters in Art as Experience will be of particular use/interest to me as a museum educator. As a result, I will be pulling out portions of his text that I have found most complementary to my current interests and studies.

Dewey begins Chapter 2 with the following quotation:

“The Sun, the Moon, the Earth and its contents, are material to form greater things, that is, etherial things—greater things than the Creator himself made.” -John Keats

Let's keep this on the back burner for a moment...

The main question under investigation in this portion of Dewey's text is why the attempt to make a connection between art (the higher, more refined things of experience) and the basic vitals of experience is often seen as a betrayal of the value of artistic creation (20). Why can't the fine arts be connected with common life without individuals thinking that the worth of the fine arts has been diminished? What is so harmful about connecting more developed forms of experience with its roots in the common?

As Dewey claims, "life is compartmentalized and the institutionalized compartments are classified as high and as low; their values as profane and spiritual, as material and ideal" (21). And, so it is with the world of art. Ultimately, this compartmentalization "brings about a separation of that mode of activity commonly called 'practice' from insight, of imagination from executive doing, of significant purpose from work, of emotion from thought and doing" (21). No matter which way you cut it, any sort of separation from the grounding forces of the "common" serves to inhibit the natural flow of life and learning.

Drawing upon this notion, Dewey relates a description of one's senses to the problem at hand. He states, "In much of our experience our different senses do not unite to tell a common and enlarged story. We see without feeling; we hear, but only a second-hand report, second hand because not reinforced by vision. We touch, but the contact remains tangential because it does not fuse with qualities of senses that go below the surface. We use the senses to arouse passion but not to fulfill the interest of insight, not because that interest is not potentially present in the exercise of sense but because we yield to conditions of living that force sense to remain an excitation on the surface. Prestige goes to those who use their minds without participation of the body" (21). Here is a tragic tale of a stunted growth caused by one's inability to connect more refined experiences to those basic in us all.

I was really struck by this statement for a variety of reasons, but primarily for what it can mean to those of us who strive to create the ideal learning environments for those we teach. What could our students be losing out on if we fail to connect the information we teach them to what they already know? This brings us back to an earlier theory of Dewey's expressed in Experience and Education that suggested that all knowledge in order to truly prove worthy must connect to the previous experiences undergone by the learners, a process that sows the seeds of life-long learning. I often wonder what the repercussions of our inability to make these connections with the fundamental qualities of life might be. If we don't connect the information we provide our students with those things that have gone before (those things that are basic in all of us), is there really any reason to teach? Why teach if what we teach is un-relatable? The heart of the matter is that information taught to our students only truly becomes alive and useful if tied to experiences already had. If we remember the inherent power of our students to transform mundane information into knowledge of extreme personal worth, how could we possibly ignore this as an imperative tool for educating?

Monday, June 29, 2009

Investigating a Quotation

“Experience in the degree in which it is experience is heightened vitality. Instead of signifying being shut up within one’s own private feelings and sensations, it signifies active and alert commerce with the world; at its height it signifies complete interpenetration of self and the world of objects and events. Instead of signifying surrender to caprice and disorder, it affords our sole demonstration of a stability that is not stagnation but is rhythmic and developing” (18).

So what is experience according to John Dewey?

1) Experience is an increased sense of living, seeing the world as valuable.

2) Experience is active; it means exploring the world.

3) Experience means an integration of oneself with the people, things, and events in the world around them. It is a give and take situation.

4) Experience is a form of stability through the constant growth of oneself.

What do these definitions of experience help us to understand about the world of museums? Primarily, it helps us to gain an understanding of what our visitors should be doing within our exhibits and programs. First, we must cultivate within our visitors a sense of wonder and excitement with the information about the world that we are presenting to them. Second, we need to offer them opportunities to experience these feelings through physical, mental, and emotional exploration of the content we are providing. Third, a relationship must be formed between our visitors and what they are experiencing. Together, these three steps allow us to set a standard of behavior for our patrons, one in which continuous growth is the core principle.

This process is not an easy one to fully complete. I would say that museums do a wonderful job at getting individuals excited and inquisitive. They do well at promoting exploration. However, they aren’t always particularly successful at creating enduring relationships between visitors and the content presented—ones that bring the visitor back for more. If museums focused more intensely on making these connections, the possibilities would be endless and the results remarkable. I would love to see us get to the point where step four would be a consistent product of museum experiences.

My last comment concerns the nature of this process. I find it to be a cyclical process. As our visitors form this “stability of constant growth” within themselves, they are more apt to see the world as a laboratory of learning, a place swarming with exciting avenues of exploration. Once this mindset is in place, exploration begins, and thus the cycle repeats itself. What does that tell us about museums? It tells us that our influence can be more widespread than first thought.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Taking a Mini Break from Dewey: AAM’s Webinar, “Understanding Life Stages of the Museum Visitor”

Today I was able to take part in “Understanding Life Stages of the Museum Visitor,” a webinar sponsored and organized by EdCom of AAM. Many things covered in this session reflected research I have already read about in the Center for the Future of Museum’s white paper “Museums and Society 2034.” Instead of going over things I have already pondered and processed, I will re-cap some of the most interesting tidbits of the webinar.

1) Majority Minorities: We all know from looking around us that the demographics of the world are ever changing and doing so at a rapid pace. Currently, 9/10 of the museum population happens to be Caucasian. What is interesting to note is how in 25 years the population of the United States will be 50% Caucasian and 50% “Minority groups,” meaning that museums need to broaden their audience base quickly in order to not see a drastic decline in attendance numbers in the years ahead.

This really caught my attention. Can you imagine 50% of the American population perhaps not speaking English as their native language? Given the way that most museums currently to not do too well truly integrating minority groups into their membership bases, how much worse could it be in the future? We need to be making the necessary changes now not to accommodate but to serve these soon to be majority minorities.

2) Who are we falling short with?
Out of all minority groups, it has been discovered that both African Americans and Hispanics are the most under served demographics within the museum-going population. This doesn’t bode well for the future, for which researchers suggest that the Hispanic population will be the dominant minority group.

3) Museum Advocates vs. Core Visitors
The distinction made between museum advocates and museum core visitor was perhaps the most interesting segment of the webinar. Although both groups are repeat visitors/members of the museum, they have different motivations, expectations, and levels of personal engagement with the museum community and within their own interactions with museum galleries. Given the fact that I am working on understanding how to evaluate museum advocacy for my internship at the Denver Art Museum, the topic of museum advocates surely struck a chord.

Researchers from Reach Advisors, Inc. described museum advocates in the following way:

a. They love to come to the museum often.

b. They have a high level of curiosity, and serve to nurture this quality in their children as well.

c. They are different from core visitors in terms of age (mostly older), but have no other socio-demographic differences worth mentioning.

d. They have “omnivorous museum-going habits,” and are what you might call cultural consumers.

e. They have active social lives.

f. They are socially and environmentally aware.

g. They tend to be more philanthropic, and donate their resources to the museum due to that motivation.

h. They are significantly happier with museums.

i. They visit museums to fulfill their own self-interest, curiosity.

The two main points that I would like to pull out from the list above are that 1) museum advocates go to museums to fulfill their own self-interest, curiosity 2) they desire to nurture this quality in their children. I find it interesting that this group of museum-goers has a characteristic key to museums retaining them as avid supporters: a passion for learning. Although they are not a fully self-sustaining population, in many ways they are; they have an inherent drive that continues to bring them through our doors, and they have the future of their children as a top priority. Interestingly, the researchers from Reach Advisors, Inc. suggested that in order for museums to create more advocates within their visitor bases they must begin to build family audiences. This ensures that advocacy isn’t generational but extends throughout a family’s history.

4) The Magic of 7 Year-Olds

Researchers noted that the median/mean of the earliest museum memory for visitors is roughly the age of 7. 2/3 of these memories include one or both parents, and ¼ of the memories were categorized as school field trips. This tells us a lot of important things, but the most intriguing to me is that 2/3 of meaningful experiences happened with a least one parent present. There is some sort of magic of 7 year olds, but there is even a greater magic in what they can accomplish emotionally and intellectually with a family member present.

The researchers also defined these museums where these magical moments occurred as “Sticky Museums,” or museum that serve to stick in the minds of their visitors. 1/3 of the earliest museum memories for 7 yr-olds happen at natural history museums. Apparently, these memories generally concern “static exhibits that promote internal creativity/imagination.” Less than 5% of these memories were hands-on activities. INTERESTING! So, this suggests that there needs to be a balance between interactive components and static, large-scale museum exhibits/components. Maybe static components aren’t the most educational but they are the most memorable! This is NOT a plug for including more dioramas in your museum…

5) Moms and Dads

Only 1/3 of moms bring their spouses with them when they visit the museum. This is another scary statistic given the fact that many women are becoming the primary bread-winners in their homes and many fathers are staying home to take care of their children. If dads aren’t going to the museums with their wives and kids now, they certainly will not choose to take their children voluntarily without their spouses.


Overall, this webinar brought to my attention several statistics that are key indicators of where the shifts are occurring in our museum visitor population. Unless we gain a grasp of our visitors, we serve without purpose, understanding, and a sense of reality.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Investigating Chapter One: What is a Normal Experience?

At this point in the text, Dewey sets out to define what this ‘normal experience’ is that he has been constantly referencing. As he claims, “the nature of experience is determined by the essential conditions of life” (12). One of the first these is that life happens within an environment, more specifically through interaction with it. The tensions of life serve to drive a creature to find equilibrium between himself and the environment—such equilibrium allows form and order to occur. The loss of such integration with the environment and its later recovery “are materials out of which [one] forms purpose” (14).

There are only two environments in which esthetic experience cannot occur:

1) “In a world of mere flux, change would not be cumulative; it would not move toward a close. Stability and rest would have no being.” (15).

2) “…a world that is finished, ended, would have no traits of suspense and crisis, and would offer no opportunity for resolution. Where everything is already complete, there is no fulfillment” (19).

Yet, our world is one of change and culmination, so esthetic experiences can, do, and will occur.

I will end with the following quote that I will comment upon in a future post:

“Experience in the degree in which it is experience is heightened vitality. Instead of signifying being shut up within one’s own private feelings and sensations, it signifies active and alert commerce with the world; at its height it signifies complete interpenetration of self and the world of objects and events. Instead of signifying surrender to caprice and disorder, it affords our sole demonstration of a stability that is not stagnation but is rhythmic and developing” (18).

Chapter One: The Live Creature

Dewey begins his text with a very busy statement that will serve as the anchor for this short section of his writing, as well as my own. He states, “By one of the ironic perversities that often attend the course of affairs, the existence of the works of art upon which formation of an esthetic theory depends has become an obstruction to theory about them” (1). What he means to say here is that the very categorization that we give to works of art—meaning that there exists a long period of unquestioned admiration for these works—cultivates an atmosphere that serves to disrupt fresh insight into these visual stimuli (1). But, what is this fresh insight? What form does it take? As mentioned in the text, “when an art product once attains classic status, it somehow becomes isolated from the human conditions under which it was brought into being and from the human consequences it engenders in actual life-experience” (1). So here, the obstruction is the separation between artistic objects and the operation of human experience.

What must be done given these circumstances? Dewey suggests that the “task is to restore continuity between the refined and intensified forms of experience that are works of art and the everyday events, doings, and sufferings that are universally recognized to constitute experience” (2). We must reconnect experience with art. Yet, how do we do that? For this dilemma, Dewey states that “one must begin with [the esthetic] in the raw; in the events and scenes that hold the attentive eye and ear of man, arousing his interest and affording him enjoyment as he looks and listens…” (3). We have to understand that art is rooted in and grows from everyday experiences.

So, back we go. We must first gain an understanding of the factors that gave rise to the compartmental conception of fine art. They are as follows:

1) Nationalism and Militarism: European museums were generally created as monuments to display national pride (quality of collection) and military dominance (looted goods). This in turn began the separation between objects and people.

2) Capitalism: The growth of capitalism, and subsequently the growth of more distinct social classes, lead to the rich surrounding themselves with priceless objects, thereby segregating these works of art from those individuals of a lower economic prowess.

3) Modern Industry and Commerce: The growth of economic cosmopolitanism caused works of art to lose their status as indigenous to communities, as they are now being commissioned by patrons. “Objects that were in the past valid and significant because of their place in the life of a community now function in isolation from the conditions of their origin. By that fact they are also set apart from common experience, and serve as insignia of taste and certificates of special culture”(8).

4) Mass Production: The artist is less integrated in the process of creation.

With all of these factors, Dewey is quick to call attention to the fact that these theories “which isolate art and its appreciation by placing them in a realm of their own, disconnected from other modes of experiencing, are not inherent in the subject-matter but arise because of specifiable extraneous conditions” (9). These obstructions are not innately present; they are constructed. Our job is to recover the continuity between art and experiences of normal living.

To be continued…

Art as Experience


Well, one book down, another Dewey thriller to go! My study of foundational education philosophy continues with a text written prior to that of Experience and Education entitled Art as Experience. I imagine that Experience and Education will prove a useful tool as I attempt to get through the lengthy and dense contents of this next adventure. Having already read the first chapter, I have a feeling this will be a much tougher read, as it seems to explain things in a circuitous fashion—not always the most effective for my learning style. Let’s cross our fingers!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Chapter 7: Progressive Organization of Subject-Matter

“Anything which can be called a study, whether arithmetic, history, geography, or one of the natural sciences, must be derived from materials which at the outset fall within the scope of ordinary life-experience…but finding the material for learning within experience is only the first step. The next step is the progressive development of what is already experienced into a fuller and richer and also more organized form, a form that gradually approximates that in which subject-matter is presented to the skilled, mature person” (73-74).

In the final chapter of Experience and Education, Dewey comments upon the need to revise the ill-digestible format of standardize subject matter in schools and replace it with a more experienced-based process of learning. The two steps in developing subject matter in accordance with Dewey’s theory of experience are as follows:

1) The beginning of all instruction must start from and/or within the experiences that learners already have and

2) There must be “an orderly development toward expansion and organization of subject-matter through growth of experience” (74). This step involves using existing experience “as a means of carrying learners on to a wide, more refined, and better organized environing world…” (82).

Dewey emphasizes over and over again the importance of this second step within the education of students, and criticizes the fact that this step is largely ignored. Paramount to Dewey is this idea of reconstructing experience into a form that allows an individual to continue to learn from experience—that allows for continued growth. Dewey claims that as we come into contact with new events, people, etc., our experience widens. When this happens, new powers within ourselves are revealed, “while the exercise of these powers refines and enlarges the content of [the] experience” (74). Inevitably, this widening of experience and its reformation serve to make the process of education enduring.

With all this in our minds, it is therefore the role of the educator to select things within the existing experience of their students that possess the potential to present new problems, “which by stimulating new ways of observation and judgment will expand the area of further experience” (75). “…Educators must view teaching and learning as a continuous process of reconstruction of experience… educators must have a long look ahead, and view every present experience as a moving force in influencing what future experiences will be” (87).

What moves me about this chapter is how applicable it is to the museum setting. With every program that our museums offer, there is always a process of identifying the needs of our audience members in terms of a plethora of categories. From there, we use that information to craft experiences that offer them opportunities for growth—particularly in whatever area of study we specialize in—that serve for them to see the world differently, and that cause them to make return visits to our programs and facilities. If there was a place where Dewey’s theory of experience could thrive, it should be within our walls. Is it not our end goal to create life-long learners?

Chapter 6: The Meaning of Purpose

How do we form a purpose for future learning opportunities? We know the importance of the participation of an individual in forming purposes that serve to direct their future learning process, but how is this done (67)? Let's begin by discussing what a purpose is not.

Dewey acknowledges that having a true purpose always begins by having some sort of impulse. When this impulse is held back from execution, it converts into a desire. However, impulses and desires do not constitute true purposes. Rather, a purpose involves looking into the future consequences of acting upon that original impulse (67).

Dewey describes the three steps in the formation of purpose as follows:

"It involves (1) observation of surrounding conditions; (2) knowledge of what has happened in similar situations in the past, a knowledge obtained partly by recollection and partly from the information, advice, and warning of those who have had a wider experience; and (3) judgment which puts together what is observed and what is recalled to see what they signify. A purpose differs from an original impulse and desire through its translation into a plan and method of action based upon foresight of the consequences of acting under given observed conditions in a certain way" (69).

Given this structure, impulses and desires act as tools of motivation for an individual. Without such impulses or desires, this process of forming purpose would not be activated. Dewey acknowledges that this is a major problem with traditional education, for it disregards that impulses and desires can be occasions "for the formation of a plan and method of activity" (71).

What does this all mean for us as educators? For me, it seems as if part of our role is to enable our students to withhold from acting on impulses and desires, so as to give them the freedom to observe their current environment, recall relevant information of value, and judge a situation based upon what the consequences of their impulses may be if they act upon them. As Dewey states, “the teacher’s business is to see that the occasion is taken advantage of,” which for me indicates a balance of control and freedom. We must control our students from acting quickly without observation and critical thinking, but we must also give them the freedom to observe and form decisions themselves. I’m not sure how this comes to pass. I'm not sure where to draw the line between freedom and control. It is once again a balancing act that entirely depends on the governing situation.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Chapter 5: The Nature of Freedom

"...I want to say something of the other side of the problem of social control, namely, the nature of freedom. The only freedom that is of enduring importance is freedom of intelligence, that is to say, freedom of observation and of judgment exercised in behalf of purposes that are intrinsically worthwhile" (61).

I absolutely love this statement. When I look at myself and what I deem to be important intellectually, the freedom to observe, identify, categorize, and judge an experience based upon my previous knowledge and/or experiences functions as the tool that truly allows me to progress intellectually. I know where I stand, and I know where I am going. I believe this is what Dewey is speaking of when he mentions something being "of an enduring importance." What could be more enduring than the freedom to learn in a way most in sync with our natural tendencies and abilities?

In reference to a lack of freedom, Dewey states the following: "Its complete absence prevents even a mature individual from having the contacts which will provide him with new material upon which his intelligence may exercise itself" (63). This is really the heart of the matter. When we lose our freedom in any sense of the word, we miss out on experiences that would have given us numerous opportunities for our intellect to expand. I fear this happens too much in our museums.

Despite all of this, Dewey is quick to mention that we must not be fully free: "...there is no intellectual growth without some reconstruction, some remaking, of impulses and desires in the form in which they first show themselves...the ideal aim of education is the creation of the power of self-control" (64). The concept of self-control being the mediating factor in constructing environments in which we strategically utilize freedom to our advantage is a very provocative statement for me. I have never looked at things from this perspective. However, I do see how self-control fits into Dewey's theory of experience; it is the mechanism through which experiences are molded by the individual to complement the experiences they have previously encountered.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Chapter 4: Social Control

Dewey shifts gears slightly, and begins talking about the larger issue of social control within a group of individuals both educating and being educated.

"When education is based upon experience and educative experience is seen to be a social process, the situation changes radically. The teacher loses the position of external boss or dictator but takes on that of leader of group activities" (59).

When speaking of educators creating experiences for their students, it is inevitable that one should have to deal with the idea of control. Who is in control of these interactions between teacher and student? Surely, the teacher guides the experience based off of their knowledge of the ones they are teaching, while the student molds this experience with previous ones to create within themselves a new way of looking at the world. Here, we have a balancing act of control.

Dewey states that "the primary source of social control resides in the very nature of the work done as a social enterprise in which all individuals have an opportunity to contribute and to which all feel a responsibility" (56). This act of balance occurs when teachers take responsibility for the knowledge of the subject matter being presented and the knowledge of their students, while the students take responsibility for contributing to these experiences being presented to them. In the words of Dewey, the teacher "must survey the capacities and needs of the particular set of individuals with whom he is dealing and must at the same time arrange the conditions which provide the subject-matter or content for experiences that satisfy these needs and develop these capacities. The planning must be flexible enough to permit free play for individuality of experience and yet firm enough to give direction towards continuous development of power" (58).

As museum educators, we know that this is a slippery slope: to be flexible in the presentation of the knowledge we possess and the experiences that we offer, but also to be grounded in a certain direction of learning. How can we achieve this within our walls? From the experience that I have working in various education departments of museums in the West and Midwest, I have found that setting a foundational layer of authority (be that through prompts, directional signage, or gallery facilitators) serves us well in articulating a flexible control over our visitors. More often than not, our visitors just need a nudge in the right direction, but it is up to us to make clear what that direction is. However, at the end of the day, the direction of learning as dictated by our visitors trumps our own level of influence. I personally consider it to be a success for our visitors to find and execute their own way of learning in our galleries.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Collateral Learning

“Perhaps the greatest of all pedagogical fallacies is the notion that a person learns only the particular things he is studying at the time. Collateral learning in the way of formation of enduring attitudes, of like and dislikes, may be and often is much more important than the spelling lesson or lesson in geography or history that is learned…the most important attitude that can be formed is that of desire to go on learning” (48).

When I read this, my thoughts immediately turned to the world of art museums and how I view their purpose...well, at least how I think they ought to be. To me, museums experiences aren’t necessarily about the subject matter that a visitor learns. Sure, you go to an art museum, and you hope that you will learn something about Monet, Matisse, Remington, etc. That is the expected part about going to an art museum, but is it the most important part?

My answer to the above question would most certainly be “no.” The reasons for this opinion will be dealt with later. The more I come to learn about what happens when individuals visit museums, how museums function internally and externally, and what the typical model for dealing with visitors has been in museums, I have come to the realization that we don’t give enough credit to our visitors. What I mean by this is that we do not truly understand the range of their ability to transform an experience into something that works for them in their lives. If we look at learning as being only what an educator presents to their students, we are not only missing the bigger, more important half of the equation but we are overlooking the power of our visitors.

This is where collateral learning is so imperative to what we do in our museums. It is truly handing over the power to our visitors to deem what is important for themselves. We could spend all day developing program plans that serve to increase the knowledge of our visitors in a given subject…let’s say art. However, if we are sincerely working to better the lives of those we serve, we should be focusing on creating experiences for our visitors that serve to generate within themselves those intangible qualities that last beyond the museum visit. These things include the follow: attitudes, opinions, understanding of the broader use of a given set of knowledge, etc. At the heart of the matter, museum educators should be looking for/creating opportunities within their facilities that function as a means developing within their audience a different perspective of looking at the world, and this perspective is visitor-generated.

A point not to be ignored is that fact that collateral learning is collateral because of the fact that it occurs as a result of a given stimuli. Without that initial spark, it does not exist by the very definition of the word. What that tells us as educators is that one experience flows from another, so that learning a concrete set of knowledge can lead to the formation of less tangible qualities within an individual. Dictated ways of learning can lead to self-generating principles.

I find these “less tangibles” to be the most important. They are what drive our visitors to continue to learn, to return to our facilities for worthwhile experiences, and to seek other avenues of “experiencing” outside of our walls. They are ways in which our visitors gain a sense of confidence in and ownership of their knowledge. The lesson here is to open doors of learning, not to limit what education can be. It is different for all of us, and we need to be accommodating.

Preparation for the Future

“The principle of continuity in its educational application means, nevertheless, that the future has to be taken into account at every stage of the educational process…But it is a mistake to suppose that the mere acquisition of a certain amount of arithmetic, geography, history, etc., which is taught and studied because it may be useful at some time in the future, has this effect [meaning proper preparation], and it is a mistake to suppose that acquisition of skills in reading and figuring will automatically constitute preparation for their right and effective use under conditions very unlike those in which they were acquired” (47).

Here, we uncover a few aspects of Dewey's theory of experience:

1) One must look toward the future constantly when dealing with the process of education.
2) One must correctly utilize their education and experience to truly be prepared for the future.
3) The acquisition of a skill or an expertise in a specific subject matter in a given circumstance does not dictate one’s proficiency in these areas given a different environment/experience.

I underlined and circled this in my text. What a thought-provoking statement! Breaking this down a little bit, Dewey emphasizes the need for educators to look toward the future, but, most importantly, he underscores the important relationship between learning and real life experiences. He suggests that it is not the absorption of a certain subject matter or the acquisition of a certain skill set that qualifies as successful preparation for the future, but it is understanding that this knowledge must match the experience being had. Knowledge must be transferable and adaptable to different situations in life or else it is not fully educational; it’s preparatory function is minimal. Learning information for the sake of retention is one thing, but it is an entirely more important thing to learn skills, information, etc. that are malleable to the variations of life. Not only does that increase the longevity of knowledge within an individual but it also serves to extend the influence of that knowledge to experiences had in one’s daily life.

The meat of this issue is the fact that learning does not happen in isolation; it happens when an individual undergoes experiences. If learning happened in isolation, knowledge would not be knowledge but rather situation-specific information. It would essentially be recall, not inherently connected to any one thing. Experience dictates learning and one’s preparation for the future to a significant degree, and we know that this is a step by step/moment by moment process.

As Dewey states, “We always live at the time we live and not at some other time, and only by extracting at each present time the full meaning of each present experience are we prepared for doing the same in the future. This is the only preparation which in the long run amounts to anything” (49). In essence, Dewey declares the superiority of experience to text-book knowledge in preparing an individual for dealing with situations in the future. Only by living through and learning from our present experiences do we prepare ourselves for learning from our future string of experiences.

We are all different. You and I are not the same.

“Responsibility for selecting objective conditions carries with it, then, the responsibility for understanding the needs and capacities of the individuals who are learning at a given time. It is not enough that certain materials and methods have proved effective with other individuals at other times. There must be a reason for thinking that they will function in generating an experience that has educative quality with particular individuals at a particular time” (45-46).

I was waiting for this point to be brought up in Dewey’s writings, and sure enough I just had to be patient. Given what has been stated over and over again (sorry, Elee) about individuals carrying with themselves their own “composition of experience” distinct from that of any other individual in the world, we must not assume that one answer fits all when we speak of education. As Dewey asserts, “the principle of interaction makes it clear that failure of adaptation of material to needs and capacities of individuals may cause an experience to be non-educative quite as much as failure of an individual to adapt himself to the materials” (46-47). I think this concept deserves some investigation.

One of Dewey’s major criticisms of traditional education is the fact that it assumes that there are some subjects or methods of teaching that inherently possess a certain educational value, thus leading to the condensing of information into pre-packaged, or “digested materials” (46). In this scenario, what the educators are forgetting is that their ability to mold the learning environment of their students is not the only variable at play; the students carry with them several variables that have an effect on how educational an experience is. Therefore, does it not make sense that in order for this process of education to fully take place to its maximum influence that the individuality of the student is emphasized—meaning that we come to know the individuals we serve and then serve them according to their needs? Undoubtedly, we cannot view every scenario in the same way, for the environmental factors of influence and the individuals involved are different across varying situations.

Having been in museums for a little while now, I have seen how the principles relating to traditional education have translated over to this setting. Many times program plans are based off a template that is a) out-dated b) does not take into account the individuality of the visitor. I have long been an advocate of the visitor, not only in terms of ability but in terms of potential. First, we need to have faith in the visitor. Then, we need to understand them and articulate their needs. Lastly, we must find ways to educate them in ways that fit their needs, and we must continue this cyclical progress as time progresses and our students needs inevitably change. This requires extra effort on the part of the educator. But, let’s think about this. If we are not customizing the education we are providing to those that we teach, can we even say we are educating? All would then be in vain.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

One of My Favorite Sections of Chapter 3

“Different situations succeed one another. But because of the principle of continuity something is carried over from the earlier to the later ones. As an individual passes from one situation to another, his world, his environment, expands or contracts. He does not find himself living in another world but in a different part or aspect of one and the same world. What he has learned in the way of knowledge and skill in one situation becomes an instrument of understanding and dealing effectively with the situations which follow” (44).

Sometimes I read Dewey and think, “He really does hit on the foundational principles of how one learns.” It’s almost frightening. We have already discussed in detail Dewey’s acknowledgement that situations interact with one another, ultimately causing effects that shift the conditions of an upcoming experience. I don’t want to beat a dead horse on that; however, I do want to comment upon what that means in the big picture of museum work.

Applying Dewey’s theories to a museum setting, our visitors come to our facilities already having been influenced by their past experiences with the world. Of course, each individual has a unique storyline to their life’s adventures, and that fingerprint of existence cannot be replicated by any other person. This is where we know that our visitors are not blank canvases. They have crafted their own world, ideas about the world and a way of thinking about the world that has ultimately served to “expand or contract” their environment to the precise dimensions as dictated by experience. Knowing this, we already have our hands full as educators.

How do we cater to the needs of our constituents, when these individuals are all so vastly different in their “composition of experience?” I don’t think I could really answer that question if I tried; however, I would say that one obvious way of dealing with this struggle is to a) specify a particular target audience and b) go after them. I have touched a little bit about this when talking about audience evaluations, so I will leave it at that. Nevertheless, it is imperative that I address how an individual’s “composition of experience (my term)” changes while visiting museums and once again what that means to us as educators.

I adore how Dewey describes how after an individual encounters another experience within the course of their life that individual “does not find himself living in another world but in a different part or aspect of one and the same world” (44). When visitors come to our museums, do we ever think about their experience as one of filtration, clarification, and articulation? As Dewey states, experiences can cause us to acknowledge our presence in a different environment, one more clearly defined than before these experiences occur. To me, that suggests the following process:

1) The filtration of influential experiences from those that are less worthwhile. This seems to happen outside of an individual’s control, for it is based upon experiences previously had. In any case, there occurs a process of dividing the world into experiences of great worth and those of less.

2) The clarification, or selection, of experiences of worth to be had. Again, I believe this is done outside of the conscious choice of the individual.

3) The articulation, or commitment, to this experience and its effects on your “composition of experience.” Unlike the previous two steps, this third component has a measure of individual agency. We can learn to be molded by our experiences.

So, when we think about this process and understand how individuals learn by experience according to the theories of Dewey, what does that say about the experiences we present to our museum audiences? My first thought is to say that museum experiences can shape an individual’s perspective about a given subject area, philosophy, etc. If what Dewey says actually happens (and I believe it truly does), the experiences individuals encounter at museums help to create one’s orientation to the world. We find our niche within the larger picture of the world. If we look at our jobs in this light, do we not feel the weight of our responsibility as educators?

Of course, we know that once out of our hands those we teach interact with others, thereby shifting their perception of the world once again. What we really need to see is the importance of that singular moment in an individual’s life-long learning process. I often think about the little experiences in my life that have influenced, perhaps even changed the course of, my life to such an extent that I now view them as monumental in the develop of me as an individual. Bottom line: one experience can alter the course of one’s life, thus placing in their path different experiences than they would have encountered if not for the previous experience. We cannot overlook the importance of a singular educational moment.

I just cannot get enough of the idea of helping someone to shape the way they view the world.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Exciting News!

I have just signed up to participate in the AAM Webinar "Understanding Life Stages of the Museum Visitor: Building Engagement Over a Lifetime." Considering the fact that it will focus on understanding the needs and expectations of a museum's audiences, I think this will be a perfect addition to my studies of museum education this summer. I will post a summary and comments upon its completion.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Chapter Three was a TON of Information...Let's Break It Down!

What I really love about using a blog as a format for articulating my thoughts is that its format is entirely dependent upon how I experience, digest, and ponder Dewey's theories. As chapter 3 was such a rich section of writing, I will spend the next couple of posts pulling from this section, evaluating certain points in a concentrated fashion, and will tie things back to what we museum educators need to think about. Let's begin with the following quotation:

"A primary responsibility of educators is that they not only be aware of the general principle of the shaping of actual experience by environing conditions, but that they also recognize in the concrete what surroundings are conducive to having experiences that lead to growth. Above all, they should know how to utilize the surroundings, physical and social, that exist so as to extract from them all that they have to contribute to building up experiences that are worthwhile" (40).

Lately, I've been researching an artist called Charles Sandison for my internship at the Denver Art Museum. Sandison is a digital artist known for his moving projections made out of words that seem to disintegrate the architectural forms they are projected upon. As I've been thinking about Dewey's acknowledgement of the influence of educator-molded environments on the education of students, my mind has turned time and time again to what the little words in Sandison's projections do. Every so often in his moving projections, two words come together and upon contact change into a word that describes the combination that just took place. Examples are as follows: blue + yellow= green OR I + you = we. The interesting part of his work is that not every word combines with another word. The environment must be just right, meaning that the location of the words and the words themselves need to hold a specific meaning for this transformation to occur. I know that this is stretching things a little bit, but I see parallels to what Dewey is talking about in the above-mentioned quote. Yes, there is this dynamic between external and internal conditions, and this dynamic--in order to be educational--can only happen under certain conditions of the environment (speaking broadly).


As museum educators, having an understanding of the responsibility we have towards our visitors' learning processes is paramount. First, we must know that we have the ability to foster an environment through which our patrons can grow. We must know what that environment looks like! Lastly, we must take the action steps to physically perform this "conditioning of experience." Not an easy task.

What first jumps into my mind when I think about tailoring the environment for our visitors is listening to their needs. Audience evaluations (including observations) are one of the key ways in which museum educators can a) learn who our visitors are b) learn how they learn c) adapt the educational materials being presented in a manner conducive to these findings. What I find so fascinating about Dewey is that he stresses the physicality of his theories; we must not just know something but we must then DO it. If we do these things, perhaps we can create within our museums that magical moment when individual interest, abilities, and needs combine with our thoughtfully constructed learning environments to create what I call "Sandisons," instances of transformation, which in this case is continued motivation to learn.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Chapter Three: Criteria of Experience

Dewey begins his discussion of the criteria of experience by defining what he calls the category of continuity:

Category of Continuity or Experiential Continuum- "This principle is involved...in every attempt to discriminate between experiences that are worthwhile educationally and those that are not" (33). This discrimination "is made between the inherent values of different experiences" (35).

Looking at this principle more closely, Dewey recognizes that this idea rests upon the characteristics of habit. As he describes, "the basic characteristic of habit is that every experience enacted and undergone modifies the one who acts and undergoes, while this modification affects, whether we wish it or not, the quality of subsequent experiences. For it is a somewhat different person who enters into them" (35). From this perspective, the experiential continuum/principle of continuity literally means that every experience draws upon those that have preceded that moment and influences those that come after.

The important point to note here is that this is a universal principle, and it does not discriminate among experiences of educational value and those without. What separates the two is the question of whether an experience promotes education in general, creates conditions of further growth, and does not cut off an individual from opportunities in which they may continue to grow in new directions (36). For an experience to be educational, it must foster continuing growth (36).

In summary:

1) Every experience affects positively or negatively the conditions (attitudes, preferences, etc.) that inevitably determine the quality of future experiences, as well as the conditions under which these future experiences come to pass (37).

2) This principle is applied in various manners based upon the present experience (37). As Dewey so elegantly states, "If an experience arouses curiosity, strengthens initiative, and sets up desires and purposes that are sufficiently intense to carry a person over dead places in the future...that experience is a moving force" (38).

In terms of what all of this means for the educator, it is threefold:

1) An educator must evaluate the experiences had by their students.

2) An educator must then judge and direct these experiences toward a desired end (arranging conditions).

3) An educator must draw from their own prior experiences (38).

After investigating the experiential continuum, Dewey also argues that there is a second criteria of educational experience: interaction. In his words, "every genuine experience has an active side which changes in some degree the objective conditions under which experiences are had" (39). This requires interaction, or the interplay between external (environment= "whatever conditions interact with personal needs, desires, and capacities to create the experience which is had" p. 44) and internal conditions.

Thus, these two factors (experiential continuum and interaction) work together to articulate truly educational experiences. Situation after situation occurs, and an individual carries over something from one experience to the next (continuity). As this happens, that individual's world grows bigger, drawing more contact with a wider range of individuals/experiences (interaction).

In the end, the role of the educator must be to understand the capacities of their students and adapt the experiences they create to those individuals' needs at the present time. With each passing period of time, these experiences must be reevaluated to fit the new needs of the individual.


Monday, June 8, 2009

Application of Chapter Two to a Museum Setting

So, how can all of this apply to a museum setting? As educators within these cultural institutions, our theory of experience revolves around the visitor and what they personally bring to the table each time they walk into our buildings. We know they are not empty vessels; on the contrary, they carry with them a knowledge molded by their own experiences with the world. Surely, when they step inside our doors, they bring with them this molded knowledge (their self, really). As they interact with the information/experiences presented to them, this developed self determines their experience in that given moment in time. In other words, our visitors bring knowledge to our museums, they let that knowledge be affected or affect the knowledge we present to them, and they leave changed in some way. By this we know that Dewey is correct, an educational experience can lead to future experiences (just through interaction); however, I would place the emphasis on the individual rather than the experience. To me, the reason why experiences can be educational is not necessarily because of the characteristics of the experiences had but the characteristics of the individuals within those experiences (i.e. decision-making, agency, etc.). I believe an individual's agency to choose how to be influenced almost always overrides what an experience has to offer...at least in the end. Food for thought.

I also see parallels between the traditional education that Dewey describes and the experience many individuals have with art museums. Dewey states, “many [have] lost the impetus to learn because of the way in which learning was experienced by them” (26). How true of our traditional art museums! Many individuals have become disheartened by the way they experience (or DON’T) experience learning within art museums, and, as a result, they become immune to what they could learn from them if they looked past the idea that “the museum knows all.” This is where another one of Dewey’s theories comes into play. There is a delicate balance between organization (here: museum authority) and imagination (here: visitor input) (31). Too much of one could stifle the other.

Chapter Two: The Need of a Theory of Experience

“I assume that amid all uncertainties there is one permanent frame of reference: namely, the organic connection between education and personal experience; or, that the new philosophy of education is committed to some kind of empirical and experimental philosophy” (25).

As Dewey sees it, in the midst of this conflict between traditional and progressive forms of education, the key dynamic at play is one between education and experience. Dewey is quick to point out that experiences do not just occur in progressive forms of education. He emphasizes the fact that “young people in traditional schools do have experiences” and that “the trouble is not the absence of experiences, but their defective and wrong character—wrong and defective from the standpoint of connection with further experience” (27). In other words, for every experience to be an educational experience it must live on in future experiences. It is not just that true education requires experience but it is the fact that everything depends on the quality of one’s experiences, the most important of which is the ability for one experience to influence a later experience (27). In his own words, “any experience is mis-educative that has the effect of arresting or distorting growth of further experience” (25).

Having broadly defined what he means by experience, Dewey suggests that “education is a development within, by, and for experience” (28). Due to this relationship, the new education requires a philosophy of education based upon a philosophy of experience. I've mentioned this previously.

Despite Dewey’s articulation of the environment surrounding his theory of the importance of a certain type of experience within the framework of education, at this point in his text he has yet to fully describe what an “experience” is (other than that mentioned above). Keeping that in mind, I will analyze his writings based upon what he has covered thus far. Here we go…

I’m thoroughly interested in this idea that experiences can be “mis-educative.” Although I certainly recognize the fact that an experience that in some way influences future experiences in terms of a change in knowledge, skills, allegiances, emotions, behavior, etc. is educational, can’t one learn from an experience that does not produce these results? If such is the case, then what Dewey would consider mis-educative is actually educational in a different manner—a manner in which one learns from encountering a termination of growth and thus seeks a new direction for learning. The key point to investigate here is what Dewey considers to be educational.

Addressing education as a development "within, by and for experience," I love the immersion that Dewey is implying--the fact that to be educated is to submerge oneself within a given experience, to be educated is through experience, and to be educated is to learn for the sake of experiencing. Museums can certainly learn from this in terms of the environment they present to individuals. Are they a place to learn, or are they more than that? Are they places to experience, which experience leads to learning? I hope so, but I know that isn't the case. I see experience as running parallel to exploration. Once we get away from handing over knowledge and begin letting our audiences explore the information we present to them, then and only then can we be in the business of creating experiences of educational value.

Chapter One: Traditional vs. Progressive Education

Let's begin by defining what Dewey actually means by traditional and progressive education:


1) Traditional Education: Education that is based upon the "process of overcoming natural inclination and substituting in its place habits acquired under external pressure" (17). "Subject matter education," as Dewey calls it, happens as information and skills that have been worked out in the past are transmitted to students. There is a pattern of organization that dictates learning, and as a result pupils tend to have an attitude of "docility, receptivity, and obedience" (18). This traditional mode is in essence--to Dewey--one of imposition from those in authority over their students.


2) Progressive Education: Education that is based upon students' impulses and interests, while taking into account that "there is an intimate and necessary relation between the processes of actual experience and education" (20).


Dewey is quick to mention the inherent flaws of traditional education. They are as follows: imposition of adult standards; teaching knowledge as a set of static principles; suppression of creativity, expression, and the cultivation of individuality; lack of learning through experience; acquisition of isolated skills without context; and its construction of the world as static rather than ever-changing (18-20). Yet, with all of these problems, Dewey strongly asserts that the worst thing to do would be to quickly switch to the opposite extreme. He states, "The problems are not even recognized [of traditional education], to say nothing of being solved, when it is assumed that it suffices to reject the ideas and practices of the old education and then go to the opposite extreme" (22). He calls for "a positive and constructive development of purposes, methods, and subject-matter on the foundation of a theory of experience and its educational potentialities" (22).


Before I explore Dewey’s idea for a theory of experience, I want to first express my own concerns about traditional education. Dewey mentions that “the gulf between the mature or adult products and the experience and abilities of the young is so wide that the very situation [traditional education] forbids much active participation by pupils in the development of what is taught” (19). For me, the absence of participation in any form for the student excludes that experience (here used loosely) from being educational. Whether it is through mental, emotional, physical or spiritual participation, education requires that a student gives a little piece of themselves to the process of learning in order for some portion of knowledge to flow into their being. As it is for most things of physical matter, you must create a space in order to position a given object within that space; so it is with the mind.


On the other hand, a problem exists for progressive education; it must not go too far in the opposite direction of traditional education. As Dewey states, “when external control is rejected, the problem becomes that of finding the factors of control that are inherent within experience. When external authority is rejected, it does not follow that all authority should be rejected, but rather that there is need to search for a more effective source of authority” (21). In other words, the problem is not with having a body/means of authority but with finding the right balance between authority and the freedom to encounter experiences of learning for yourself. Dewey ultimately conceives this balance as being a new philosophy of experience that serves as a foundation for issues of educational improvement. Yet, what is this “experience” as Dewey perceives it to be?

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Editorial Forward

For this post, I would like to comment upon the following quotation:

“Scientific study leads to and enlarges experience, but this experience is educative only to the degree that it rests upon a continuity of significant knowledge and to the degree that this knowledge modifies or ‘modulates’ the learner’s outlook, attitude, and skill” (10).

Plenty of things to say here…I would argue that a study of any particular discipline can serve to enlarge—by which I mean broadly to understand more deeply—an experience. In other words, as an individual gains greater insight into a given body of data that acquired knowledge has the power to create a more accurate comprehension of and appreciation for the life experiences he or she encounters. Essentially, knowledge has the potential to create a deeper understanding of and to find the purpose of experiences of various kinds. That is point one.

Point two is that there is a distinct process of being educated from experiences. According to this quotation, education emerges from experiences in which:

1) The experience rests upon a foundation of prior knowledge.
2) A noticeable change in the learner’s attitude, skill level, knowledge, behavior, etc. occurs from this knowledge. (Outcome-based learning, anyone?)

Again, experience becomes a mode of education when it builds off of past knowledge gained and when this knowledge leads the learner to change a part of his or her behavior.

Placing these steps together, one notices a symbiotic relationship between study and experience. Study enhances one’s individual understanding of the power/importance of life experiences, while experiences prove educational when they are founded on a baseline of knowledge.

So what do I think of all of this?

I am reminded of what Maxine Greene asserts about the imagination and how that parallels in function to what I have labeled the “study” component of this equation. She acknowledges that one’s imagination has the power to penetrate established ways of thinking and uncover alternative realities within a world of formal modes of education. Not only that but she suggests that one’s imagination can open doors of perception and lead to an increased awareness of possibilities. In the same way, an individual’s acquisition of knowledge (study) functions to cut to the heart of an experience, to see it as it really is, perhaps to break it down or build upon it, and to provoke action from the learner in light of the possibilities perceived.