Rita Smilkstein

         Many years ago I was helping a student in my office who had been in the hospital and needed to catch up with the work he had missed during a week's absence. I said, about the topic we were about to discuss, "This is easy," intending to let him know I recognized his fine intelligence. He gazed at the sentence I'd put on the chalkboard for him to analyze and said the words that changed my life as a teacher: "If you can't see it, it isn't easy."

         Since then I've tried to learn as much as I can about learning and teaching. Both the research in educational psychology and in neuroplasticity (the study of brain changes during learning as well as my own experience, have taught me that students need to start where they are, with what they already know, with what they can see. Connected learning is an imperative: I have to provide students with the opportunity to connect the new to what they already know.

         The term for where students are, for what they already know and can see, is "ceiling level." Like Shoe, we need to start with "1. Put water in pan . . ." if that's where the students are. The challenge is that some students are below the ceiling level at which we've decided to start, and some are above it. If they don't tell us "Whoa," or "Giddy up," then what?

         Usually when we find a great range of ceiling levels in a class, we have a problem meeting the needs of all the students, especially those at the top and bottom ends. But the assessment method I'll describe not only lets us know what the range is, it also, by its very nature and function, mitigates the problem.

         How can we find out where they are? We can ask them.

         It's not only educationally sound to ask, it's also invigorating-for the teachers as well as the students.

The "Ask Them" Process

         When York Wong (visiting from Evergreen), Jim Harnish, Tom Kerns, and I were planning for a winter 1991 coordinated studies program "The Fall of Empires." We wondered what the students levels of knowledge-what their different ceiling levels-would be. We didn't have any idea how much, if anything, they knew about Rome and the (then) USSR. We didn't want to direct our work above their ceiling level-or below it, either. We thought we'd ask them.

         We used a format that was geared to raise the activity, participation, and contribution level to a high pitch. We wanted to spread a wide net and catch everything that was there.

         On the first day of class, after the pleasantries and program business, we wrote on the chalkboard: "What do you know about the Roman Empire?" Students wrote individually for a short time, consulting their own mind?store of knowledge. Then they got into small groups of three to four to allow everyone to actively participate in a short period of time. In the meantime, we readied a MAC with an LCD (a machine that projects what's on the computer monitor onto a screen for class viewing). We asked the class, "What did you come up with?" As they called out their responses, Tom entered them, until a list of 38 items appeared on the screen, including: "brought an enforced peace on other cultures," "two distinct classes of people, aristocracy and slaves? [sic]," "excelled in administration and engineering," "ruled with a military dictatorship." We felt excitement stirring in the class.

         The key to their excited and ever?increasing participation was our accepting every contribution as they gave it-even those we considered incorrect. We wrote those down just as we wrote down those we believed were correct. We were not teaching during this activity; we were assessing. We were also setting the tone for the class, which reflected our ideas that: learning is a long, complex process, merely telling students correct answers doesn't produce understanding and learning (they can correct their own mistakes during the learning process that ensues in the course), and critiquing, correcting, and coopting students' contributions, before they have the opportunity to go through the learning process, will shut them up.

         If one student disagreed with another, we put a question mark next to that contribution (letting it stand)- as, for example, when one student said all of Western civilization is based on the Roman culture but others disagreed-and told the students that during the course this point would be clarified. This approach validates both the contributor - and the critic (who might or might not be right)- and also sets the tone for the process of inquiry: that it has to do with deepening our study and not with arguments or disputations; with respect for every person and with open?minded consideration of every idea.

         The next question was, "What do you know about the Soviet Union?" Same process: individual writing, small group sharing, large group collating. This time they had 57 items, including "we have a limited history background of Russia/Stalin/Lenin," "tremendous inefficiency in agriculture and industry," "there is a cultural revolution going on now," "much of Eastern Europe was gained in WWII or by invasion." Now the excitement and energy were palpable.

         Next, after making those initial personal connections at whatever ceiling level each student had, we asked one of the program's key questions: "What characterizes a society that is in decline?" Same process. At the end, they had 29 dynamite characteristics, including "economic problems," "dissension leading to revolt," "military heavy handedness, overextension, not welcome, invasive," "the ruling class/government oppresses society." By this time we felt like slapping each other on the back and yelling, "All right! This is a happening class!" (or words to that effect). And we hadn't done anything but ask them what they knew.

         What had happened through this process is that the students gave themselves and each other pretty much the content of a lecture that, otherwise, we would have had to deliver. We liked this better: a class full of students heated to the chase of knowledge and teachers doing a good job of standing out of their way. Not that everything they said was true nor did they include everything we thought was important. But the ideas were seminal-and the community building was powerful.

         Now they were ready to make the connection between what they already knew and the new things they were going to learn. We were also going to invite them to collaborate in shaping the course. The final question was, "What questions do you have about all this?" Our intention was to have them answer all their questions by the end of the quarter. They had 21 questions, including "Where are WE headed?", "Who specifically suffers in a decline?", "Who prospers in a decline?", "Is there a set pattern in decline?", "What rises from decline?", "What can we do in our incline to prevent a decline?"

         Needless to say, the course was hot. By the end of the quarter the students had answered their initial questions, and many more besides, having spent the term searching through our books, lectures and the library for answers and understanding.

         Side benefits. The side benefits of this assessment method (which I use in all my courses) are many. Asking students what they know tells-us where they are as a class and the range of their knowledge or ceiling levels; it tells-them we respect what they know. It also helps students-tell each other what they know, in the process raising everyone's ceiling level. In addition, the assessment method sets the tone of the class as one of community and collaboration, tolerance of others and open?minded inquiry; unleashes students' energy and intelligence (we always knew they were energetic and smart-but did we know they were-that energetic and smart?!); motivates students to search for more knowledge and for understanding; and makes the faculty very happy, because we see students engaging enthusiastically in learning.

         Pitfalls and Trouble-Shooting. Does the approach always work this well? Yes, it does - if certain pitfalls are avoided.

         One potential pitfall already noted is disputes between students. My troubleshooting advice is to accept every student's contribution without criticism or co?option and without allowing, at this initial point in the course, prolonged disputes between students.

         Another potential pitfall is that students may be at very different ceiling levels. What if some students who are advanced in their knowledge contribute lots more-and more sophisticated-answers? What if they contribute their knowledge with haughty superiority - not in the spirit of community and collaboration? What if some advanced students, throwing in their answers with naively high and eager spirit, dominate the discussion. Students with less knowledge and/or less verve may feel intimidated. What do we do with these disparities, which are likely to do the most harm during whole group discussions?

         Remember that at each step in the process, students begin with individual writing so that each student can collect his/her thoughts; then they proceed to small group discussions before the whole group debriefing. The intent of the small groups is to one, give everyone the opportunity to be as active as possible and two, to have the group members teach and learn from each other.

         Small groups of three or four give faculty the opportunity to make relatively unobtrusive but helpful corrections before the whole group discussion. Thus, while the students are discussing in their small groups we are able to circulate and politely intrude ("Is it okay if I sit in for a bit?"). If we observe someone dominating, we have the opportunity to ask whether everyone has had a chance to talk since there are only x minutes left. We can, if the situation seems seriously out of control, even go around the small group and ask each person to tell-us-because we're curious and interested (and we really are)- what s/he thinks. We might not be able to give every group such full attention; but if we scan the groups quickly, we can usually identify those with a dominating member-and can intervene in those groups first.

         Another benefit of small group discussion is that students might hear some new and interesting ideas from their group mates. As a result, during the whole group discussion we can call on students to contribute either their own ideas OR ideas they heard from others in their small group. Thus, everyone can contribute an interesting point, minimizing a potentially intimidating contrast between those with many or advanced ideas and those with few or undeveloped ideas. Moreover, as a side benefit, whenever I've called on specific students and asked for either their own ideas or another idea they heard in their small group, they almost invariably, after their first experience of having their contribution accepted and written on the board without criticism, become active participants in class discussion.

"Ask Them" as Classroom Assessment

         This approach reveals the wide and deep array of what students know and understand, but it does not provide a specific measurement or accounting of what each individual student knows. So can this be considered assessment? It-is assessment, but it is not individual assessment. This approach assesses the class as a whole. Thus, its aim is not to identify which student knows what, but to assess a general level of knowledge.

         Responses from students at the upper and lower ends of the class's range of knowledge might prevent our making an accurate assessment of the knowledge of the group as a whole. But disparity of range is already being mitigated in this student? teaching?student approach. And that's what we want-we want to assess where they are after having learned from each other. We want to assess their community?constructed knowledge; we want to assess where they are as a group which, to the best of the group's collective and collaborative ability, has answered our questions.

         This approach is also a useful pre?test/post?test assessment. At the beginning of the course we printed and distributed the four lists they came up with on the first day and we often referred to the items on them during the quarter. At the end we pointed out that if we asked these same questions again, they would now have such long lists that it wouldn't be feasible to write them down. They pulled out their lists and read them over, and by reflecting on where they were at the start and where they were now, the initial assessment then became part of their final self?evaluation.

         Assessing the knowledge students bring with them into a course reaps a gold mine of benefits. This assessment approach helps - create a learning community and becomes a vital, enriching process-within a learning community.

"Ask Them" as Teaching and Assessment

         One other point needs consideration. What if the subject or theme of the course is something we think is sufficiently misunderstood, or unfamiliar or new that assessment of what they initially know would probably not lead to rich peer-to-peer teaching? In this case, it would be more important to prepare students to learn something new than to assess their initial knowledge. (This preparation function, by the way, is a valuable, but secondary function of the assessment approach discussed previously.) Still, when in doubt about how much they know, start by asking them what they know.

         If they know little, then asking them makes assessment a critical part of teaching. In this case the initial question needs to be one that will help students prepare to learn the new subject. The question would stimulate each student to think about a personal and authentic base that would help them begin to connect/construct their new knowledge. This is a critical first step in learning: students need to connect new learning with something they already know.

         For example, in teaching an introduction to poetry course to students who might be expected to have little prior knowledge of-or positive experience with-poetry, we could ask, after reading an accessible, high?quality poem to them, "Write down one specific thing you like about this poem and why you like it. It could be anything." In an introduction to Marxism course we could ask, "You and your family are jobless and starving; the government has no concern or aid for millions of jobless. Some people want to revolt against the government. Will you join? Why or why not?" Or in an introduction to a course on learning theory: "Think of something you have learned to do that you are very good at. Go back to when you first started to learn it. What did you do to get from there to being really good at it?"

         The purpose of such questions is to help each student focus on something he or she already knows; this will be each student's personal, authentic base from which the new knowledge can be learned/constructed, and to which the new knowledge can be connected. In order for this crucial base to become present in each student's consciousness, the student needs to consult his or her own mind and memory. Then, in a small group, students can discuss their answers; finally they can discuss their collective base knowledge as a community. In introduction to poetry classes, students have given such answers as "I liked the topic because I had an experience like that"; "I liked the way the words sounded, for example . . . "; "I liked how the poet described the forest and the path; it put pictures in my mind."

         Through this process, we can assess the best they can collaboratively construct-and help each one come up with an appropriate personal, authentic, galvanizing reference point for the new knowledge. They will be ready to learn because they will have a way to relate to the new subject or theme.

         The next question can be constructed on what they learned from each other from the first question; remember, all the answers from the first question are written on the board for them to consider. "Here is another poem. What's one specific thing you like about it and why?" And now, because the board is filled with all the various things different students liked about the first poem-and discussed in small groups and as a whole class every student will look at the second poem with a wider range of possibilities, seeing and feeling things they hadn't seen or felt before.

         After this second cycle of individual, small group, and whole group action and interaction/interteaching, the next question can be, "What do you know about poetry now?" This is, of course, the original "Ask Them" question; it can be asked now because we have ensured their having had some authentic personal experience with this new content. It is also a consolidating question that lets them give themselves, as a community, a communal lecture about poetry-instead of our doing it-for them and -to them. In this way, instead of our doing the active thinking and talking and doing, -they are doing it. In all the years I've been teaching poetry this way, I've been astonished by how much they know at this point, e.g., "the sounds of the words are important," "the descriptions are very exact and yet done with only a relatively few words," "the meaning is both very personal and also, at the same time, bigger than one person's experience."

         So, when do we start teaching them about poetry, start telling them all about it? Surprise! In this "Ask Them" model, most of the teaching is asking good questions and giving good tasks for the students to think about, talk about, and do in a sequence whereby each new question and task is constructed on the knowledge acquired from the previous ones. By asking questions and providing opportunities for students to teach each other, using their communal knowledge, we-are teaching. Students are learning and we're making it possible for them to be learning. This is really successful teaching, isn't it?

         Certainly, when students have consolidated a basis of personal experience and knowledge, we can throw in our two cents; and by this time they will be ready-and eager-for us to do so. They will say, "I know what you mean! I see what you're talking about! That is something I was wondering about! That really helps me understand it better!" "Is that really true? I don't agree!" Their excitement can get intense. In fact, the first time I used this method and got to this point, I actually had to take a few steps backwards, literally blown away by their energy. This was a powerful contrast to the all?too?frequent scene I'd been used to: the students sitting quietly taking notes on my brilliant lecture, sometimes one or another glancing up for a moment with a sparkling eye, but some of them thinking, as was clear from their essay exams, "I don't understand this; but I'll just take notes, memorize them and I'll pass the test okay."

"Ask Them" as Invitation

         Using the "Ask Them" method, I have discovered something: Perhaps the most galvanizing force for learning is what is already inside the students-a natural love of thinking, discovering, exploring, that only awaits the opportunity to be invited into a community of learners. If we ask students at the start of a course, at the start of any new topic, or after the first few experiences with a new subject: "What do you know
about . . .?", then these five words become magic.

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