Chapter Three, Part Two: Finding Harmony

So, with all of this talk about what experiences are, what they should entail, etc., Dewey ultimately sums up these theories by framing them within an enveloping statement about the common patterns that comprise experiences. He states, “There are, therefore, common patterns in various experiences, no matter how unlike they are to one another in the details of their subject matter. There are conditions to be met without which an experience cannot come to be. The outline of the common pattern is set by the fact that every experience is the result of interaction between a live creature and some aspect of the world in which he lives” (45). Regardless of the other qualifiers of having an experience, all experiences--despite their differences--form as a result of the coming together of a being and some element of its environment. I have mentioned this before and see no need to continue arguing this point; however, I want to expound upon this symbiotic relationship between self and object just a little further.

Dewey acknowledges that particular experiences come to a close when a "mutual adaption of the self and object emerges" (45). In other words, no experience can be complete unless a harmonic relationship is created with the self and a select portion of that individual's environment, a relationship that forms as a result of a joint perception of the world (46). In this scenario, there must exist what I call "give and take behaviors." The individual must act and be acted upon. In this way, the experience of an individual is not only made complete due to this partnership but it is also enhanced--a process which refines the learner. As Dewey argues, “…nothing takes root in mind when there is no balance between doing and receiving” (47). As I've said before, to learn (which in many ways is to undergo a sequence of meaningful and related experiences) is not only to receive but to give of oneself during the process.

Let's review a statement by Dewey:

“Experiencing like breathing is a rhythm of intakings and outgivings. Their succession is punctuated and made a rhythm by the existence of intervals, periods in which one phase is ceasing and the other is inchoate and preparing…Each resting place in experience is an undergoing in which is absorbed and taken home the consequences of prior doing, and, unless the doing is that of utter caprice or sheer routine, each doing carries in itself meaning that has been extracted and conserved” (50).

What is most striking to me about this quotation is that since experiences inevitably have rhythms, these rhythms ultimately serve to guide individuals on an established path of learning. To clarify, by established I do not mean dictated modes of experiencing the world. Rather, I mean that these rhythms set standards of behavior, guides to learning, and road maps to success that function to assist in the progression of one's knowledge. What is interesting about these rhythms is that there is the opportunity within an experience to pick up on these rhythms and thus become more in tune, more comfortable with the experience. What does this lead to? More effective learning.

So, back to the ever-present question: How does this relate to the learning that goes on in museums? Above anything else, it teaches us some very important things about how our visitors can learn in a more efficient and effective way:

1) They must be presented with opportunities to participate, thus imparting to the situation a portion of themselves.

2) They must be acted upon. By this I mean that some environing factor will influence them. In order for this to happen, our visitors must be receptive to this influence.

3) If our visitors recognize that they are in the middle of a give and take scenario and thus pick up on the rhythms of action inherent in this type of relationship, they will be more apt to take further action to enhance the experience being had.

Ultimately, this symbiotic relationship has the power to transform. But, what happens if there is too much giving from the individual or too much taking for the surrounding environment? Dewey concludes that "experience is limited by all the causes which interfere with perception of the relations between undergoing and doing. There may be interference because of excess on the side of doing or of excess on the side of receptivity, of undergoing. Unbalance on either side blurs the perception of relations and leaves the experience partial and distorted…” (46). What I am not quite grasping is and what Dewey fails to mention is what actually this balance is. Is the balance an equal measure of giving and taking? Does the word balance mean equal in terms of measurement or equal in terms of influence (in which case one side could be more plentiful than the other)? In any case, this need for balance concerns me. We all know the visitor who expects to be fed information without effort. We all know the visitor who seeks to input their knowledge/expertise/experience into their museum visit yet the museum provides no forum for that. Undoubtedly, this harmonic relationship is utterly important to the construction of knowledge within our visitor, but are we ready to hand over some of the power? Are we ready to give in the manner desired and needed from our visitors?

To conclude, I'd like to focus on another obstacle to the full articulation and development of an individual's experience. Dewey mentions that “resistance is treated as an obstruction to be beaten down, not as an invitation to reflection” (46). This made me think...what barriers do we place in our museums? Are they barriers that provoke reflection or problem solving on the side of our visitors? Are they barriers that inhibit moving intellectually, emotionally, and even physically? How can we present obstacles in a way that invites the visitor to solve for x, to think of y, and to combine a with b? How can we intentionally use resistance as a motivating tool to educate? Seems a little tricky to me, but something worth investigating.