Professional Documents
Culture Documents
FIELD SCHOOLS
For
Mom and Dad
ARCHAEOLOGICAL
FIELD SCHOOLS
A Guide for Teaching in the Field
Notice:
Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and
are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
Acknowledgments 9
Appendices
Appendix 1: RPA Guidelines and Standards for 167
Archaeological Field Schools
Appendix 2: Sample Safety Handout 173
Appendix 3: A Summary of the Family Education 177
Rights and Privacy Act (FERPA)
Appendix 4: Sample Archaeological Field School 179
Participant Information Form
Appendix 5: Sample Handout of What Students 181
Should and Should Not Bring to a
Field School on a Daily Basis
Appendix 6: Sample Guideline Sheet for Students 183
and the Media
References 185
Index 191
About the Author 192
This page intentionally left blank
Acknowledgments
Writing a book about teaching is not something everyone feels they are
able to undertake in the course of their career. There are many pressures
to write other types of works, and books about teaching o en are not
considered to be of the same merit as other genres of scholarly prose.
I am very grateful to have a supportive publisher and academic insti-
tution that both value and encourage writing about teaching. I want to
thank the many colleagues with whom I have had very engaged and
profitable discussions about teaching both in the field and in the class-
room. I particularly want to thank Robert Rotenberg for all he has done
to encourage me to become a be er teacher and to support a career that
seeks a balance between research and teaching.
My desire to write this book stemmed from the many different experi-
ences I have had teaching archaeology in the field. My first experiences
in field school teaching took place at the University of Nevada at Reno
and Wayne State University. These opportunities as a graduate stu-
dent allowed me to collect data for my dissertation research and to
develop my skills as an instructor. They also provided ample evidence
that teaching in the field means more than basic instruction in archaeo-
logical methods and inspired me to explore ways I could develop
fruitful pedagogical techniques to maximize the educational benefits
of field school for my students.
I continue to develop new pedagogical strategies for field schools
in the two projects I direct at DePaul University. The first of these is
a biannual field school at the Historic Pullman Community on the
South Side of Chicago. I am grateful to the many organizations and
individuals in the community who support this project in countless
ways. The second project is an annual study abroad field program
in The Bahamas, which I codirect with Dr. John Burton. I appreciate
the many partnerships we have forged with individuals, government
agencies, and private organizations that are so willing to share their
9
10 Acknowledgments
Field schools touch many more students than those who ultimately
pursue archaeology as a vocation. The availability of summer course
credits, the ability to spend time outdoors, and the allure of partici-
pating in legitimate scientific research all motivate college students
who otherwise have no career-related interests in archaeology to take
part in field schools. The types of hands-on experiences afforded by a
field school can also be critical for students deciding whether or not
archaeology is a career they wish to pursue. As Perry (2006:26) notes,
“Archaeological field schools, then, weed out the disillusioned and at
11
12 Chapter 1
the same time train those interested through their intensive involve-
ment in an archaeological research project.”
The lucrative nature of archaeological field schools has made
them popular at colleges and universities of all sizes. Estimates for
the number of field schools being offered in any year have ranged
from “over 100 in 1987” (Haury 1989:xi) to 70 “formal” field schools
in the summer of 2005 (Perry 2006). Such a demand for field schools is
also reflected in the academic job market, where in a five-year period
approximately 90% of job advertisements seeking a North American
archaeologist mentioned the ability to develop a local field school as a
desirable or necessary quality for a job candidate (Anthropology News
2000–2005).
Field schools provide an opportunity for faculty research, particu-
larly for faculty at institutions that are focused primarily on teaching.
Graduate students also use field school teaching as a way to obtain
data for their theses and dissertations (Baxter and Van Wormer 2001).
This aspect of field schools has o en been critiqued as using students
as “warm bodies” (Pyburn 2003:214) to obtain data for faculty research,
but more o en than not instructors combine research and teaching in
ways that enhance both aspects of a field school.
Clearly, field schools are an integral part of our discipline at many
practical levels. Field schools are also central to our discipline’s iden-
tity. It is not uncommon to hear seasoned archaeologists comparing
field school experiences as a way of expressing their a achment to
their chosen profession (Adler 2001; Perry 2004). As a place to experi-
ence fieldwork for the first time and learn how to be an archaeologist
both technically and socially, field schools play an important role in
“becoming” an archaeologist. The ability to be “in the field” is o en
the lure that brings people into the discipline, and it is the continued
ability to work in the field that motivates many of us to become profes-
sionals. Field schools, in this regard, have become a symbolic gateway
into the discipline.
those of interest. The second model of early field schools involved the
creation of a permanent or semipermanent base camp from which one
or more ruins in a region could be studied in depth for several seasons.
It is the la er model that became the basis of the archaeological field
school.
Gradually, field projects that emphasized students accompany-
ing faculty on research trips shi ed to a balance of research and
teaching. Students began paying institutions for credit, and colleges
and universities began funding field schools as formal venues for
archaeological training (Gifford and Morris 1985). As Smith notes
(1984:395, quoted in Gifford and Morris 1985:395), “The element of
instruction, study, and training for the student” thus became the
“paramount purpose of the field school.” In this context, the profes-
sor eventually ceased to be the sole principal investigator, and stu-
dents began taking on analytical and writing tasks as part of theses
and dissertations.
The timing of the growth in field schools as a tool for student
training parallels the growth of academic institutions generally in the
postwar years of the mid-twentieth century. As academic departments
and institutions grew, there became more employment opportunities
for professional archaeologists in academia, thereby increasing the
demand for student training opportunities (Allen 2002; McGimsey
and Davis 2000). The growth of field schools also became an issue of
concern and scrutiny in the profession during this time.
When Turnbaugh (1976) published his article calling for an “alterna-
tive” to field schools, his suggestions were clearly motivated by widely
recognized problems in the conduct of some field school programs.
His criticisms of the field school as a model for student training were
threefold. First, he noted that field schools were being taught primar-
ily as a way for institutions and professors to make money rather than
prioritizing student learning. Second, he asserted that many professors
were using field schools only as a venue for student training with no
regard for the stewardship of the archaeological record. Particularly,
Turnbaugh noted a tendency of some archaeologists who specialized
in European archaeology to use prehistoric sites in America as “prac-
tice” sites for their students before going to Europe, where they would
work on a “real” archaeological project. Finally, Turnbaugh suggested
that students were a poor choice for excavators at many of the sites
where they were working. He noted that students were highly vari-
able in competence and interest and that entrusting the archaeological
16 Chapter 1
This book is designed first and foremost as a guide and resource for
archaeologists who teach in the field. The book is most directly geared
to serve as a resource for new professors and graduate students who are
teaching field schools for the first time or are in the position of having
to develop a field school program. Graduate students are o en placed
in supervisory roles in extant field school programs or develop field
schools to fund dissertation work while gaining experience desired on
the job market (Baxter and Van Wormer 2001). New faculty are o en
asked to develop a local field school program upon arrival at a new
institution, regardless of their area of expertise. This book is designed
to be a companion for those developing their own field school projects
or programs—it is even small enough to tuck away and take with you
in the field!
This book is also designed to assist people who want to refine field
learning experiences for students of all types. It does not expressly dis-
cuss the many other types of field programs designed for educational
purposes, such as archaeology camps, public field schools, opportun-
ities designed for K–12 teachers or for elementary and high school stu-
dents; however, the information contained in this book is relevant for
those teaching in the field in such circumstances.
Finally, this book is designed for those who have been teaching field
schools for some time, but who wish to rethink or redesign aspects
The Archaeological Institution of Field Schools 19
of their course. Perhaps, for members of this audience, this book will
simply affirm years of tried-and-true practice. Perhaps, for others,
it will allow teaching to be taken to a different level, concerned not
merely with the day-to-day operations of the field school, but with the
overall structure and goals of the courses. Either way, it is hoped that
this book will provide a useful way of thinking about field schools as a
pedagogical as well as an archaeological endeavor.
The first part of this book is devoted to teaching practice and relates
to all types of field-based learning in archaeology. Field schools are
by their very nature experiential and require students to learn by
doing. Field schools are a specific form of teaching and learning in
archaeological contexts, but experiential learning is by no means
unique. The chapters in part 1 of the book link archaeological field
schools to broader dialogues in pedagogy and education in order to
seek ways to make field schools more effective learning environments
for students.
The first chapter in this section, chapter 2, summarizes much of the
literature that has been wri en about archaeology and education gen-
erally and about field schools specifically. There are several key issues
in student training that have emerged in contemporary dialogues about
archaeology and education. Most of these issues are centered on the
relatively stagnant educational programs used to train archaeologists
and the many dynamic changes that have taken place in the discip-
line over the last three decades. Other issues around field school train-
ing specifically have been addressed in ethical codes of conduct and
point to conflicting ideas of how field schools should be taught. The
exposure to the types of conversations that archaeologists are having
around education, training, and field schools is a useful starting place
for instructors who want to design field schools around learning goals
that are significant in our discipline today.
Chapter 3 turns away from archaeological literature to educational
writings relevant for field school teaching. Questions of how to set
appropriate learning goals, how to structure experiential learning,
and how to create learning communities are all central to this chapter.
Engaging with this educational literature provides a useful means for
instructors to create or revise field school courses in light of what those
explicitly concerned with designing educational experiences recognize
as the best practices.
Chapter 4 is more practical and combines the previous two chapters.
It is centered on the question of how to take ideas about best learning
20 Chapter 1