Margaret Scarborough

         There's an old story about a magician's apprentice who, convinced he had learned everything after ten years of study, took the opportunity of his master's absence to work a little of his own magic. As the story goes, he did possess great skill, and almost immediately succeeded in calling up exactly the powerful spirits he desired. But as he stood there in the middle of his laboratory, greatly pleased at what he had accomplished, the spirits slipped through a flaw in his magic circle and unleashed terrible forces upon the little medieval village. The moral, we are told, is that one must never engage in magic practices without careful preparation-without, that is, thoroughly circumscribing the circle.

         Long before trying seminars in my own classroom, I heard faculty and students speak of them, almost exuberantly, as a kind of magic. "This is the best! I have never learned so much!" one student said on a video presentation. "I'll never lecture again!" said a colleague after facilitating a very good seminar. "The students said everything I would have said and more," remarked another colleague after one of his seminars.

         "So what is a seminar?" I asked skeptically.

         "A conversation among your students," came the answer.

         "About what?"

"Anything. A book or text, an essay, a film, a work of art, a poem, a piece of music, a play, a performance. All of these can be the centerpiece of a seminar."

         Flexible enough, I thought, but maybe just a little too flexible. What's the teacher doing during this conversation? So I dismissed seminars and went on with my usual lesson plans, feeling seminars were an abrogation of my own teaching responsibilities. Eventually, however, I was persuaded to try seminars-or seminaring-in my own literature classes, with a text at center, and, surprisingly, I soon heard myself telling my colleagues about them with the same enthusiasm I'd heard others express.

         What is this seminar I had become so enthused about? Students use the seminar space to explore a topic, text, idea, piece of art, film or whatever from their many different points of view. My best seminars happen when students try to understand, explore, and express to each other what an author or text means to them. Students share mutual and different observations and insights about the topic. They dig into the material together, respectfully, like archaeologists, to excavate whatever meanings and appreciations they glean from their working and thinking together. And they learn to be careful about their interactions (see Appendix I: "The Seven Levels of Seminar Interaction").

         Simply putting students together to "seminar" doesn't guarantee success. As one colleague remarked, "The work of exploring and entertaining ideas together is very hard work." It is especially hard, I believe, in the preparation that needs to be done beforehand, in "circumscribing the seminar space." I think of this circumscription as creating a hedge around the seminar space and time so that it will become a safe haven for students. That's when the surprising magic of learning and discovering happens. When the hedge is carefully in place, students feel supported and free to take risks.

         In the rest of this article, I will describe what we, my students, my colleagues, and myself, have designed for the sowing, the cultivating, the fertilizing, the pruning of the hedges that make many seminars seem like magic, like "the best." My main purpose is to lay out the ways that we have found to create conditions that will help seminars work consistently for us. These ways are many, but students report feeling freed by them, not restricted or bogged down. In fact, Seth Frankel, an observer from The Evergreen State College, reported, "The elements of structure were not constraining, but, rather, became invisible." Here is what we do to create that invisible hedge.

Creating the Environment

         The first thing we do is consider the environment. We think it's important for the students to feel safe even if not totally comfortable with each other. We've found that undergraduate seminars require some sense of trust to work well, and trust and vulnerability seem to come when students feel safe in a given environment. At first, some of my colleagues thought vulnerability was asking too much in a classroom, but as we thought about it, it became clear that authentic learning requires vulnerability-especially in an ever-shrinking, pluralistic, multicultural world. Exposing disequilibrium, exploring threatening concepts, taking risks to assert long-cherished ideas about the world, struggling with reshaping and restructuring knowledge, or struggling to articulate a half-formed idea-happen only when students feel safe.

         Size. The size of the seminar group can't help but affect the environment. For some students and instructors, it is the major factor in the environment. Thus, trying to keep things intimate, some educators have insisted that 10-15 students in a seminar is an optimum number, thereby precluding seminar in bigger classes. But for other educators, larger groups (I've had up to 25 students) are no barrier. I have found that seminars can (and do) work well for big groups when I include small-group, seminar preparation (described as a "pre-seminar," below) and assessments, which allow for the required intimacy.

         We have also done seminars in big classes by breaking up into the desired numbers and sending part of the students to other (empty) classrooms for the designated seminar time. When we do this, we usually invite some seminar spokespeople to give a report on their seminars when they return. We've found not only that students enjoy sharing their seminar's points of view with the larger class, helping them feel more closely connected, but also that these little reports offer opportunities for some final insights or reconsiderations of the material.

         My preference is for keeping the whole group together, simply because I want to hear everything, but I have done it both ways, and found both ways rewarding.

         Assessment. Size, of course, isn't the only consideration for creating an environment that encourages active exploration. After a few years of experimenting, I discovered that a major and interwoven component of my good seminars was assessment. When I skipped it, because of pressure to "get in more content," or because of other time limitations, the next seminar with that group just wasn't as sharp-and seminars continued to deteriorate until I restored assessment procedures. Later, at the 1991 Harvard Institute on Assessment, I heard Dennie Palmer Wolf champion assessment as a crucial part of any transformative pedagogy. We can't extricate assessment from the whole process of learning, or we do so at our peril. She recommended that we look at what happens outside of school in order to get a better idea about what might work inside the walls of the classroom. "Artists, writers and performers," she wrote in "Assessment as an Episode of Learning," "insist upon . . . sustained [my emphasis] assessment, by which they mean the ongoing appraisal of their work over time in a way that allows for both self-assessment, or reflection, and social assessment, or response and critique" (9). It was affirming to hear her articulate what I had been experiencing. I also liked the idea of taking our seminars as seriously as the artists, writers and performers Wolf describes. For me that meant establishing (with my classes) routines that were agreed upon and effective, and assessing them regularly in practice, as sort of an informal "rules of order." Now, we create covenants, assign seminar roles, and leave time for assessing the seminar, all to assure an environment where students can feel safe and be vulnerable. The covenant, the roles, and the assessment strategies are all described below.

Introducing the Seminar

         At the beginning of the course, we describe the seminar in general terms to our students as an opportunity to grapple with the text individually and as a group-without the teacher as the center of their learning. The seminar, we tell them, is their chance to explore, discuss, discover, and illuminate the text for each other. They will need to prepare, we say, in different ways. Sometimes they may want to do a bit of research before the seminar. What can they learn about the author, if they are seminaring on a book, or about the artist, if they are seminaring on a piece of art, and so on? But the best preparation is to know the reading or examine the art or think about the idea thoroughly.

         Seminar Paper. A few days before the first seminar, we return to our introduction of seminaring. We may have two tasks to accomplish. First, if we are assigning a seminar paper, we make clear the guidelines for that paper. It is usually not longer than two pages. Most faculty prefer a one-page paper. These writings are usually typed or word-processed and follow specific guidelines of their own. Guidelines are crucial and should answer students' very legitimate question: "What do you want in the paper?"

         Covenant. Second, and essential, we establish a group covenant. We like to establish this covenant as a group, mindful of the seminar goal of active exploration of the seminar's centerpiece. In working together to create the covenant, we ask what conditions will enable and empower seminar participants to actively explore the seminar centerpiece (e.g., text, poem, film, etc.). Some of us have found it helpful to hand out North Seattle Community College's "Guidelines" and/or "The Seven Levels of Seminar Interaction" as seeds for this discussion. However we proceed, our goal is to arrive at a list of appropriate seminar behaviors we can all agree on: attendance, preparation, and protocols for listening, contributing, and balancing participation among all participants. At Evergreen, basic ground rules are generally agreed upon early in the quarter, and then, mid-quarter everyone pulls out the covenant and amends it if need be.

         Although I trust the group's ability to arrive at an acceptable covenant-indeed, some classes of mine have created covenants far more strict than I alone would create-I do have my own bottom lines. A hard one for many students (and faculty) is to agree that nothing can be done to "make up" an absence anymore than we can "make up" for missing any other important event that happens only once. If seminar papers are required, I recommend that they not be accepted if the student is absent from the seminar. To ease my problems with this "no make up" ground rule, I permit my students to drop one or sometimes two seminars with no effect on their overall grade. These allowances take into account most illnesses or circumstances beyond the students' control, which make it impossible for them to come to one or two classes. But, hard as it is to accept, long-term illness or other long-term disabling circumstances that keep students out of class generally disqualify them from the kind of collaborative work we are able to offer at our institutions and thus from any class that seminars.

The First Seminar

         We often use the first seminar as a brief introduction to the practice of seminaring. As such, we give a good deal of attention to the process of seminaring. Thus, using a seminar image (as in the vase described below), talking about assessment, and defining the functional roles we adopt for the purpose of assessment take considerable time this first meeting. After the first seminar, we needn't use a centering image, and we needn't devote so much time to talking about the purpose of assessment nor to defining the functional roles. In the routine seminars following the first, these are best understood as we practice them. We allot an hour or more for seminar, and during the first seminar, much of this time goes toward setting up the roles and processes of assessment. The times listed below add up to a 75 minute seminar and refer to this longer, more careful setup during the first seminar. Later, routine seminars omit the centering image and require just a quick assignation of roles, and we can devote more time to the exploration of the centerpiece. If you are limited to a 50-minute class period, cut where you need to, but be sure never to cut the assessments. Neglecting assessment time is like leaving weeds amongst the hedge and hoping they'll go away by themselves.

         Introducing the Seminar (5 minutes or less). Before the first seminar, call everyone together in order to offer an image to help participants conceptualize what they will be doing. Ask them to make a close-knit circle, positioning themselves so that each participant is able to see all of the others. One image I like to use has been useful for undergraduate seminar practitioners:

The Vase

         Introducing the Assessment Process/Defining Roles (20 minutes). The collaborative conversation of seminar is not the usual model we see in education, or, for that matter, in the political and jural models that control the centers of our present world's on-going life. Therefore, we feel it's important to assist students in learning discussion skills through taking on specific seminar roles that help the conversation develop effectively. On the most basic level, what's the teacher's role during seminar? The observer's? The scribe's or focalizer's? And more subtly, whom do students address when they speak? How does body language telegraph our selves, our power, our influence, our interactions? How are we silencing or encouraging others simply by a sweep of the hand, a tilt of the head, a slump, eye-contact?

         We have found the following functional roles to be effective in moving the class toward active exploration of the seminar centerpiece. We offer them as one way of circumscribing seminar space by giving participants clear, non-hierarchical ways of engaging in the conversation. Student (and faculty) participants may want to experiment with other ways and roles.

         The first role we assign is the role of the scribe, focalizer or some would say, facilitator. I have preferred the terms "scribe" or "focalizer" over "facilitator" for my seminars in order to avoid the tendency among my students to become a "teacherly" discussion leader. The scribe collects the topics that each small, pre-seminar group has generated and writes them on the blackboard or overhead. (See below for discussion of pre-seminar.) S/he then helps the class order them into an agenda. When the topics are visible to everyone and arranged as an agenda, the scribe or focalizer opens the seminar by calling for an elaboration of the question from the small group that developed the topic. Finally, s/he queries the class or gauges when it's time to move on to the next topic. Whatever the name, this role is the most challenging. While s/he is encouraged to participate, s/he must be especially careful not to dominate during the seminar, or try to turn it into an old-time "class discussion," where all questions and answers are directed to the "teacher" or whoever has been standing near the board, chalk in hand.

         A second role is that of the observers. The observers watch from outside the seminar circle. If it's a small seminar (10-12), I call for one volunteer to be an observer. If it's bigger, I ask for two. In my seminars, I usually take the role of observer, until the last two or three seminars of the term. I wait this long because I want my students to feel that seminars are their time for conversation and interpretation; I take my time on the days I lecture. After one or two seminars, they prefer my being out of the conversation. The observers watch. They do not participate in seminar. They take notes on process and give reports about the process at the end of the seminar.

         When I introduce the role to my students, I usually ask the observers to notice what interactions go on among the participants. What questions move the seminar forward? Are they challenging, prodding, exploring, tied to specific pages and passages? Do they make connections? When are there difficulties? Does everyone try to talk at once? Do they know how to listen? How do we know when participants are listening to each other? What problems do they see in the interactions? The oral reports at the end are generally very specific, including the names of participants who helped deepen or move the conversation. (For a sketch of types of interactions, again see Appendix I.)

         After calling for a scribe and observers, and explaining their appropriate functions, my choice is to become an observer. Sometimes, however, when information is called for from the participants, I have to decide whether or not to give that information during the students' seminar, or defer it to a lecture at another time. I have found that the tendency in early seminars is for students to pass the responsibility for the seminar (and their power) back to me by addressing me rather than the group. Often I have to remind myself and my students that seminar is not a class discussion to be led by me toward a particular understanding or interpretation of the material. Nor do I want it to be a debate. What I want in seminar is the participants' active exploration of a given author's point of view, a piece of art, a video, a film or an idea.

         A final role, one which all students assume, is that of peer assessor (see Appendix I). Usually I ask students to look to their right or left to designate someone to assess their interactions. That peer will be called upon at the end of the seminar to do a quick assessment of their peer's process, and in return, are assessed by the other.

         Reflective Prewriting (10 minutes). If a seminar paper is not required or if the seminar centerpiece is an event, a video, a piece of art, an idea, or whatever, students do a short (10 minute) freewrite before seminar. Sometimes the instructor gives a question to guide the freewrite: What was the author/creator's point or what was s/he saying? What are the major issues for them, individually? What was confusing? What was particularly interesting? Other questions may be tailored to the discussion or the freewrite may be completely free-let the students generate their own questions. After the freewrite, students then proceed to their pre-seminar groups.

         The Pre-Seminar (10-15 minutes). This very important practice should begin just about every ordinary undergraduate seminar. In the pre-seminar, three- to four-member groups have a conversation for about 10-15 minutes before the full seminar about what they want to explore in the seminar. We have found the pre-seminar to be very important in two ways: first, it offers students the opportunity to remember key issues they have thought about and to warm up in the comfort of a very small group; second, it helps to focus the larger seminar by allowing students to practice articulating their main questions before they bring them up for seminar. I have found that in classes with a significant cultural mix or in ESL classes, longer pre-seminars may be helpful.

         Usually we call the pre-seminar by asking the students to form pre-seminar or small groups. Their assigned task is to come up with a topic or question to explore in the seminar. They may want to tell others what they wrote about in order to warm up for the seminar. Though some instructors have them read their papers to each other, I have stopped encouraging the reading of papers because I want the participants to be in an interactive rather than a receptive mode. Solitary reading usually makes students thoughtful and solitary rather than thoughtful and interactive-at least for a while, but a while is all we generally have, so it's good to start out at our most interactive. But whether teachers and students decide to read or not read, or to mention or not mention their seminar paper topics, each person in the group must bring up something to discuss, and from these topics the group decides on one (or, in really tough cases, two) topic(s) to present to the scribe or focalizer for listing in the seminar agenda for the day. In the larger, open seminar, students often want to tackle something big, something that they may have been timid to write about, given the restrictions of papers. But whatever they want to discuss is usually raised in the pre-seminar and then submitted to the scribe to be listed in the agenda.

         Creating the Agenda (5 minutes). Following the pre-seminar and the assignment of roles, the Scribe creates the agenda by orally collecting the topics from each group and writing them on the board. S/he decides in what order to tackle them, assigning each topic a number that corresponds to the order s/he thinks best.

         The Seminar Exploration (25 minutes). When the seminar exploration is ready to begin, I check to make sure the observers and instructors are sitting outside the circle. And I ask everyone in the circle to make sure they can see and hear everyone else without straining. The scribe begins the seminar by asking the group that developed the first topic on the agenda to present it to the seminar for discussion by explaining why it is important or interesting. When the conversation about this topic winds down, or is complete (to the satisfaction of the class), the scribe moves to the next topic. Again, s/he asks the group that developed that topic to present it. This procedure is followed until the designated seminar time is over or all the topics or questions are thoroughly discussed. Remember, the instructor enters the seminar conversation to let the participants know that they need to close the conversation and move to assess the seminar process.

         The Assessments (8 - 15 minutes). Five quick assessments from different perspectives help to close the seminar.

1.     The Group Assessment (1-5 minutes): The instructor first asks for a group assessment: "On a scale of 1 - 5, 5 being high, how would you score this seminar?" Each student writes down what score s/he would give, and then the instructor addresses the class and asks what score they came up with. Most everyone speaks up. If there's much discrepancy, the instructor may ask each student (or selected students who gave scores that varied from the general opinion) in turn about the score they wrote down. Why high? or Why low? If the seminar is ranked low, s/he asks the group (or individual) what they believe they need to do to make it better next time. This part of the process is usually a very brief group summary. Move quickly to the next part.

2.     Observers' Process Report (about 1 minute for each): Following the group assessment, the instructor calls for a group process report from the observers. The observers speak only about process: What did they observe that moved the seminar forward? Did participants point to the text to support their positions? Did questions follow each other, more frequently making connections than statements? Which thoughts were well-articulated? Were participants unafraid to be exploratory with new and partially formed thoughts, calling for help from others when appropriate? Where was reasoning sharp? Where were comments heartful? Were participants watching each other and sensitive to the dynamics of the conversation?

3.     The Instructor's Process Report (about 1 minute): The instructor follows the group process report. Where s/he can, s/he supports what has been said by the participants and observers. Where s/he must, she disagrees. But mainly, the job is to recognize what has been done well and thereby encourage repetition.

4.     The Self-Reflection (about 1-5 minutes): It's very important that participants reflect upon their participation in seminar. There are numerous ways this may be worked out; we recommend that you look over the "Seven Levels of Seminar Interaction" (see Appendix I) and the "Seminar Process Assessment" (at the close of Ann McCartney's article) to get an idea of two methods. Or, your class may want to develop their own interaction guidelines, in which case students are asked to consider their participation from the point of view of the agreed-upon guidelines. Or the instructor may have presented specific seminar goals to the class, in which case the participants will consider how they met these goals. Whatever the instrument of self-reflection, it is crucial to the on-going development of the seminar as well as to that of the participants that self-reflection be a routine part of the process.

5.     The Instructor Assessment (about 1 minute per student): The participants' self-reflections are handed to the instructor, who offers an assessment comment, mainly by way of her or his individual reflection on each participants' self-reflection. Usually a brief note will do. Look over the accompanying self- and instructor-reflection sheet to get an idea about a format in which this may be done. What's important is that the instructor respond as quickly possible. That same day is best.

Closing Seminar Space. With these final reflections, you exit your seminar space-a space that is designed to assure participants that their interactions are intimately intertwined with their learning and knowing; that as a community, they create their knowledge; and that in the best communities, of which we want our seminars to be examples, each individual's thoughtful contribution is given dignity, recognition and respect as an essential, interconnected part of the larger fabric of life.

A Note on Process Difficulties

        Of course, our seminars aren't always examples of the best communities, and difficulties of two general types often mar the process. The first type of difficulty is that created by dominating or silent members. The second is that created by irrational conflict. The seminar assessments often provide strategies for dealing with these difficulties. I like to encourage the assessors, that is, the observers and peer assessors, to highlight the seminar strengths, and subsequent seminars usually build on these strengths. However, sometimes we instructors need to intercede when difficulties arise.

        Some of my colleagues maintain relatively equal conversation flow by playfully getting students to identify themselves (early in the course) as "mouths" or "ears" and periodically reminding the "mouths" to let the "ears" have a word. If some "mouths" tend to dominate in seminar after seminar, silencing the quieter "ears," the group urges them to hold their comments for an agreed-upon time.

        But sometimes participants are habitually silent or on the outside of the discussion. I have found it useful to raise this habit during the assessment time at the end and ask the silent individuals to let us know what we can do to help. Generally students decide to address the silent ones by name in future seminars-and that has proven to be an effective way to "get their toes wet." Usually, however, the practice of the pre-seminar is enough to support shyer people and help them past problems of silence. As a rule, I have found that the students take on the responsibility of encouraging general social interaction, and bit-by-bit, outsiders feel welcomed rather than put on the spot, as they often feel when I do the encouraging.

        Occasionally, seminars break down into unproductive and polarized conflict. I have found two reasons for such breakdowns. One, students have not fully grasped the idea that the seminar is an opportunity for exploration; and two, they haven't agreed upon ground rules. Like a flash fire, suddenly it seems like everyone is talking at once, accusing each other of being "narrow-minded" or "racist" or "simple-minded." When this happens, I do not try to put the fire out with a mere, "Please, take turns." I ask them to close their texts and take a few minutes to write a reflection (see Reflection Sheet attached to "The Seven Levels" assessment handout) on their participation in the conversation, which they hand in to me. I ask them to reflect on these questions: What do you perceive is going on here? How are you doing in this seminar? Participants do not need to show what they write to anyone (although I want to see it as part of their required reflection). Their homework assignment is to re-read North Seattle Community College's "Seminar Behavior" and my "Seven Levels of Interaction."

        This strategy is my way of dealing with irrational conflicts. After the writing, if we have time, I break them into small groups again. Their task is to try to identify the problems and brainstorm solutions, before we re-enter the larger group. In these cases, the necessary conversation is about the process itself; the purpose is to develop or agree upon ground rules.
In rare instances, when one or two students are regularly disruptive and don't figure out better personal strategies to interact with the text and the group even after I've made suggestions on their required reflections, I will pull them aside and talk to them. If this intervention doesn't improve their seminar behavior, I will stop the seminar and ask the group what they want to do about them. Another general point: in cases of frequent miscommunication, we may ask participants to paraphrase a preceding point before making the next.

        I'm happy to say, though, that most conflict has to do with disagreements about meanings of the text. These are easier to resolve and part of the regular seminar process. The rule: return to the text when there is disagreement. Or return to the simplest points (who? when? where? what?) when ideas get tangled or the seminar gets bogged down with observations like "There's nothing here to seminar about," "I can't make any sense of this," "It's just a stupid love poem," or "I hate it; let's seminar on something else." Mostly, everyone in seminars is working to make them work better and wanting to know how to do them better. My approach is to acknowledge the many positive things that are going on in the seminar and watch them increase in frequency over the term.

Final Notes

        Preparation and regular assessment lead to high qualities of interaction and exploration and make seminars worthwhile. When seminars are good, most if not all of the students are deeply engaged, including students who are not normally engaged. The almost exhilarating energy in the atmosphere is irresistible. Conversations spark with good questions and responses. Students frequently say they "love" them. When this happens, I can't help but think that my job is being done, seemingly by itself-but more accurately, by the students themselves. I've merely prepared the learning situation.

        Second, when seminars are good, I see students take responsibility for their learning, which becomes more deeply interwoven in their lives. Experiencing their power to contribute to others' learning as they are learning, they look at themselves and the teacher differently. On their own initiative, they vigorously undertake educational quests-some making extra trips to the library for background information, others, taking seminar material outside of seminars to have conversations with family or friends even before, and often after, seminars.

        Third, when seminars are good, students learn the material better because they enjoy seminaring on it. They come to expect lively, sometimes slow and thoughtful but often rapidly moving conversations, and they learn how to prepare for them. They come ready to call upon a passage, support an assertion, and remember.

        Fourth, they learn, first hand, how knowledge is not only constructed socially, it is driven socially. Students regularly report that they understand a book or a text better after a seminar on it. They say they have heard points of view or ideas that never occurred to them and that were very worthwhile-important-for them to hear. And they intensely desire to contribute to the community of knowledge they are creating.

        And fifth, they see, in a safe place, how people have, maybe even how people have come to, different points of view, and they learn how to disagree in positive ways-relational ways-respecting each other, even when they are in conflict. All these benefits simultaneously do seem like magic. This magic results from our carefully, again and again, circumscribing the seminar circle.

Appendix I

Seven Levels of Interaction in Seminar: Metric & Reflection

Introduction: To a larger degree the intention of seminar is the process of active learning itself, made visible and audible to the entire learning community. It is the seminar that integrates the texts with the readers, and the readers with each other. Without a vital seminar, there is little hope that a coordinated studies class will be as healthy as it could be. The following is a seminar metric to help participants evaluate and consciously improve the vitality of the seminar. However, it is crucial to remember that no seminar will work if the participants have not read the material.

Metric: Because of the difficulty and complexity in discussing anyone's motivation to do or not to do anything, the following metric is based simply upon the seven levels of behavior (from least to most interactive) we have observed in seminar participants.

1.     Silent - No response. Of the various reasons for this behavior, two need to be considered for our purposes: Lack of trust in the group and therefore the unwillingness to take a risk and share; or lack of confidence in one's own critical abilities a sense of being so overpowered by the material that it is hard to see the forest for the trees.

2.     Silencing the text - Personal opinions, experiences and/or memories dominate, without much consideration for the text. This behavior indicates an inability to engage and is often accompanied by complacency or boredom. Possibilities for learning are greatly reduced. Often the participant is judgmental or dismisses the text altogether.

3.     Testing the water - Some two or three general comments about the text to let people know s/he has read it. The participant is beginning to get their proverbial toes wet.

4.     Collecting - Listing many observations and quotes from the text without analyzing them. The participant is still struggling a bit with being overpowered by the material, but what is important is that s/he is struggling with it.

5.     Engaging - This signals real reading. In seminar it is usually accompanied by an emotional as well as an intellectual response to the material. At this level, participants are generally enthusiastic. Among the various responses possible: discussing the position and biases of the author: seeking to define terms (both the author's and the discussants'); seeking to make meaning out of the quotes; asking questions; answering questions about the quotes; asking questions; answering questions about the text posed by the group; clarifying each other's positions. This level indicates a strategy of learning.

6.     Understanding - At this level, participants are structuring and integrating the material through association with personal experience (here, personal experience illuminates rather than dominates the text) and with other literature.

7.      Discriminating - This level is the level of "critical" appreciation. The participant has fully understood the material from a number of perspective sand now makes a conscious evaluation or judgment about it.

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