Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Navigating
Place-Based Learning
Mapping for a Better World
Elizabeth Langran Janine DeWitt
Marymount University Marymount University
Arlington, VA, USA Arlington, VA, USA
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To our students… Long may you roam
Foreword: Toward Mapping for a
Better World
vii
viii FOREWORD: TOWARD MAPPING FOR A BETTER WORLD
the city’s historic Sanford insurance maps. While these students still lived
in the designated southeast part of town, they began to understand what
had come before that, and while by then school choice gave them other
options, the de facto residential patterns persisted.
In the following chapters, the investigations of “place” focus largely in
cities as landscapes of cultural activity. Whose? When and how did these
evolve? How did settlement expand from the central water source by its
inhabitants? Who lives “in the Heights?” Who lives in the dense and low
elevations where flooding occurs and services are absent? In Chapter 3,
the concept of Critical Place-based Inquiry is presented, using Bednarz’
1994 basic geographic inquiry process of:
Pushing further from these results, students are asked to develop a critical
lens using Freire’s concept of of “Reading the world”; taking a critical
stance on what is uncovered through this process, for example,
• What are the best features of our community? What could make it
better for all?
In the not-so-distant last century, the year 2020 was seen as a future
time when all problems would be solved, the earth a healthier planet
than it was then, and when all things would be possible. Instead, we
inherit a confounding and insidious pandemic, the continued and height-
ened awareness of racial injustice and its persistence, and continued polit-
ical impotence for righting the wrongs incurred on the planet. There’s
been plenty of research, enough data to hold down library shelves world-
wide, yet the shining moment predicted as the time we would be better
continues to elude us. There isn’t even a new (impossible?) deadline yet.
In the twentieth century, GIS educators led place-based investigations
in middle and high schools that challenged water quality issues in Flint,
Michigan (only being addressed today), challenged historical race issues
in Raleigh, North Carolina, and Ground Truthed local land areas’ perme-
ability for improved remotely sensed data land classifications for their
USGS partner in Fairfax, Virginia, among other projects. At the time,
the Freireian approach was labeled “Problem-based learning.”
During their work on this volume, authors Langran and DeWitt artic-
ulate the potential of “Critical Place-Based Pedagogy” in the unusual
context of COVID-19 social distancing. In the upheaval of canceled face-
to-face classes, one student found COVID-19 data from Johns Hopkins
and analyzed it with social vulnerability data. Students were learning to
access types of data that were almost immediately picked up by news
outlets in near real time, clearly demonstrating its critical nature.
In this century, the ubiquity of digital image and data-based mapping
options has increased and become more compatible among platforms and
media of all kinds. Cell-phone technologies have proliferated and made
these kinds of studies and learning more productive and sharable. This
volume brings these platforms to the practices of mapping and spatial
literacy from a local-to-critical issue focus incorporating spatial literacy-to-
critical pedagogy, providing articulate discussions and examples of instruc-
tional and educational technology solutions for such critical place-based
inquiry.
In this once future landmark year, the authors responded to unimag-
inable constraints realizing and demonstrating in the doing of Critical
Place-based investigations, the continued need for “mapping for a better
world.”
xi
xii PREFACE
xiii
xiv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is with deep gratitude that I want to acknowledge the many people who
have offered support during this process:
First, I wish to thank my family and Bruce for their support and
patience as I worked on this for several years. I’m sorry I could not finish
this in time to present my father with a copy—I know he would have
been proud. Thanks to Marsha Alibrandi, for roping me into her world
of geospatial technology in the first place. We surmounted so many chal-
lenges in those early days! I’d like to acknowledge Esri’s education team,
especially Tom Baker and Joseph Kerski, as we pushed the boundaries on
the technology until we found a way to tell the stories of place the way we
wanted to. I am grateful for my students, who creatively tried out these
new technologies. We appreciate the patience and support of our editors
at Palgrave Macmillan as we worked to complete this manuscript through
several personal challenges. I keep having new discoveries that I want to
add to this book, but it is time to send it off. Finally, thank you Janine for
going on this adventure with me. I know the strength of this book is due
to your thoughtful approach and willingness to embrace inquiry in your
own life.
—Elizabeth Langran
Contents
xv
xvi CONTENTS
7 Afterword 155
Critical Place-Based Pedagogy in the Contemporary Context 155
References 160
Index 161
List of Figures
xvii
List of Tables
xix
CHAPTER 1
Place is more than where you go, it’s also why you are there
An excited group of students receive directions to meet at a mysterious
destination at a specific time. The students arrive at a cemetery after dark!
Their excursion is an introduction to a class being offered by The Pioneers
Learning Lab (http://www.thelearninglab.nl), an innovative educational
program associated with the University of Amsterdam. “We go literally on
a journey in which we do not know what the end station is,” explains the
instructor, Thiel Besselink (Smit & van Doorn, 2011, 6:20).
Once on location, Besselink instructs the students to spend their time
as they choose: “You are pioneers. So you decide what you do with your
time…What are you going to do with your time? And life is short. It’s
really short. Tick tock tick tock. So what we’re doing is trying to stretch
the boundaries of education, inside and outside of the classroom…inside
and outside of your life” (Besselink, as cited in Smit & van Doorn, 2011,
7:15). Taking flashlights, they explore the cemetery and then return for a
large group reflection on the activity. Many of the students make profound
connections between this introductory experience and the goals of the
Pioneer program which they are about to begin. In this example, the
location of study—the cemetery—becomes part of the learning journey.
Imagine this same activity where the students were shown slides of a
cemetery or simply asked to think about being in a cemetery.
Long before internet access brought the world into our classrooms, the
places where learning occurred were not always limited to the confines
of a four-walled room dedicated to the purpose of schooling. Students
ventured into their neighborhoods to explore, describe, and analyze,
whether it was leaving the one-room schoolhouse out on the prairie or by
taking an urban excursion. As we go back to the writings of John Dewey,
who was advocating “progressive education,” we see a call for teachers to
become “intimately acquainted with the conditions of the local commu-
nity, physical, historical, economic, occupational, etc. in order to utilize
them as educational resources” (Dewey, 1938, p. 40).
The value of place-based knowledge and experiences outside of school
is noted by many who suggest having students apply lessons from school
to everyday life (Buxton & Provenzo, 2011). Both John Dewey (1938)
and Paolo Freire (Freire, 2011; Freire & Campos, 1990) noticed that
what children learn outside of school is often devalued. The key difference
between these two educators is that Freire links the observation to an
analysis of power and privilege. He notes that children from different
social classes will come to the classroom with different sets of experiences,
with educational systems privileging certain knowledge and skills.
Sobel’s work on place-based education (2004) offers a foundation for
understanding how this pedagogy can take advantage of the local commu-
nity and environment “as a starting point to teach concepts in language
arts, mathematics, social studies, science and other subject areas across
the curriculum” (p. 6). Through these hands-on, real-world learning
experiences, the students:
Over time, the field evolved to include a range of names and a variety
of purposes: environmental education, camping education, and conserva-
tion education, as well as experiential and place-based education (Quay
& Seaman, 2013). While these approaches share the common feature
of learning in settings beyond the classroom, some of them are closer
to “adventure” education that focus on the personal growth benefits
from overcoming uncertainty and obstacles (Ewert & Sibthorp, 2014).
Others foster students’ connection to place by viewing the community as
a classroom and encouraging students to “read” the landscape.
Courses that have service or community-based learning (Anderson,
2017), field trip, or study abroad components are naturally suited to
place-based learning because they often assume an obvious link to
the physical environment. To be effective, these experiences require a
thoughtful pedagogy that anchors student learning in a specific place
and facilitates the connections between conceptual material and geospa-
tial location. In order to make these learning environments meaningful,
a clear synergy needs to be created between out-of-classroom and in-
classroom or online experiences. Otherwise, students become academic
tourists, passing through their destinations without making connections
or gaining an appreciation for the significance of the place.
To address this need for making these learning environments mean-
ingful, some educators have developed place-based activities. The
pedagogy of place-based learning is applicable across disciplines and
emerged from several different areas. Surprisingly, many of these develop-
ments occurred outside of the field of geography (Israel, 2012). An early
attempt to reach across disciplines was City as Text, which originated
within the Honors Education community. Developed by Dr. Bernice
Braid (Braid & Long, 2000) and shared through workshops held by the
National Collegiate Honors Council, this technique involves the recur-
sive process of mapping, observing, listening, and reflecting (Machonis,
2008). Resulting excursions involve an extensive planning process, which
includes identifying a location and theme, selecting background materials
(texts), and creating several participant assignments. More than just
exploring a city, the goal for City as Text participants is the critical
thinking process that requires students to hone their observational skills
and generate questions that require locating additional information.
While analyzing a city “as text” is more likely to produce deep learning,
it also requires a significant time investment on the part of teachers
creating experiences as well as students participating in these experiences.
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 5
Geospatial Literacy
The term geospatial, or sometimes simply spatial, describes something
with a geographic or topographic component: Think maps (it comes from
the Greek geo, meaning “earth”). Geo-referenced or geolocated data refer
to data that range from numerical statistics or photos to tweets, and are
tied to a location on the earth’s surface. Geological or built structures,
social or animal behaviors, or even wildlife can all be studied as geolocated
data.
Engaging in spatial thinking requires that students use the concepts of
space, the tools of representation, and processes of reasoning. The ability
to imagine three-dimensional shapes from two-dimensional architectural
drawings and to visualize DNA structure as a double-helix, or to rotate
a geometric object in your head are all examples of how spatial thinking
plays an important role in many different disciplines (National Research
Council, 2006). Spatially literate students:
and when these data occur, and to explore the complexity and intercon-
nectedness of how economic, political, social, or ecological relationships
shape experience. Because the role of place—the actual physical loca-
tion—is important in place-based learning, we need to help our students
develop their geospatial literacy, which includes the skills needed to
create, analyze, and interpret map-based data. By asking guiding questions
such as, “Where do the locations occur on a map?” “What is nearby?”
“Who lives there?” “What physical features are present?” “What social or
environmental patterns can be observed?” we can develop a foundation
for more complex analysis.
The pedagogy of place-based learning asks that students make obser-
vations, collect data, and develop a sense of place about a specific physical
location. Placing this information on a map enables students to visualize
a two-dimensional representation of our three-dimensional world. The
role of geospatial literacy includes having students recognize shapes and
patterns from among the “clutter” of the data. These are skills that can
be learned; just as a radiologist learns how to look at an image to detect
an abnormality, we can help our students to develop their own spatial
thinking skills to look for patterns in the data.
Geospatial technologies allow users to utilize critical thinking skills to
locate, display, and analyze geographic information, and make sense of the
increasing amount of place-based data that are emerging. With advances
in geospatial technologies (geographic information systems, global posi-
tioning satellites, remote sensing, and image analysis, for example), more
and more geolocated data are being generated all the time, including
soil erodibility and other environmental conditions; sidewalk and trans-
portation access; posts to social media such as Twitter and Instagram;
and traffic congestion. This increases the need to teach students the skills
to make sense of these data; visual representations of patterns require new
visual and geospatial literacies to see interconnections and how actions in
one area can impact another. Geospatial technology tools and the under-
standing these tools can afford users is central to enabling students to
become engaged, globally competent citizens (Langran & Baker, 2016).
Geographic Information Systems (GIS) technologies have also evolved
dramatically in recent years, increasing the ability for students to access
GIS tools through a browser and use these tools to analyze geolocated
data without specialized training. Anyone with basic skills to visually inter-
pret images can see that there are more instances of an event on one part
of the map than on another part of the map, or that this area on the
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 9
map is darker than that area on the map. While there is a certain intu-
itive aspect to map interpretation, a specific kind of literacy is required to
spatially think about the relationships between data points. The best way
to represent information on maps requires some level of visual interpre-
tation. While the location of data may be fixed, the way that we choose
to array that data must be intentionally designed to communicate the
intended message or observation.
In order to facilitate geospatial thinking, we need more information
on how people learn to interpret locations, their characteristics, their
distances, or their changes over time. For example, do we know whether
how people interpret their location influences their relationships with
the environment, or with other people? To begin addressing these gaps
between what we know about geospatial thinking and geospatial tech-
nologies, a research agenda identified three broad research areas that
are needed: student learning and outcomes; teacher training; and tech-
nical development (Baker et al., 2015). The second of these areas is
teacher training where a key question involves the best ways to train
teachers and teach students about geospatial literacy. In subsequent chap-
ters, we will discuss ways to structure place-based learning activities that
take advantage of what we already know about using geospatial tech-
nologies for learning. Some of the key course components that promote
geospatial literacy include capturing and communicating knowledge in
the form of a map; recognizing and interpreting patterns; understanding
geographic concepts of neighborhood, spatial interaction, competition for
space, territory, migration, and spatial context; the ways in which humans
express themselves visually as they describe and record the world using
coordinate systems, data, and map projections; and seeing the value of
geography as a basis for organizing and discovering information, not just
as a list of places on the Earth’s surface (Goodchild, 2006).
There can be multiple opportunities to develop spatial thinking as we
ask students to consider actions performed in space, thinking about space,
and thinking with space:
spatial thinking, thinking with space, is more abstract yet a powerful tool.
Spatializing non-spatial data or using space as an organizing framework to
conceptualize problems and make decisions is an effective cognitive strategy
used frequently in problem solving. (Emphasis added, Bednarz & Kemp,
2011, p. 20)
Mapping
Central to place-based learning is contextual learning , and maps are a
tool that can visualize and scaffold this type of understanding. We can
take the conceptual ideas being learned in environmental studies, urban
planning, language learning, or other academic areas, and apply them to
real-world venues. When academic concepts are presented abstractly, it
is up to the learner to make connections to the world where they will
live and work. When course instructors help make these connections by
providing learning in the context of real-world applications and engaging
authentic learning environments, students can better internalize these
concepts (CORD, 2016). Maps can serve the learner as they explore an
area with the intent of making connections between classroom knowledge
and the real world. Mapping contributes to critical, multidimensional
thinking, specifically: categorizing and interpreting information; analyzing
and evaluating; and making inferences (Sinton & Bednarz, 2007).
When we anchor the analysis of a place using mapping, students
develop the skills and habits of perceiving, evaluating, and analyzing visual
information (questioning assumptions and points of view; using evidence
to reason; and illustrating the visible) (Sinton & Lund, 2007). A good
map tells a story. Maps are essentially telling the story of a commu-
nity; you can illustrate the story of a place over time, provide portraits
of the people who live there, explain conflicts, inspire action, compare
data, depict a journey, with having protagonists, struggles, resolutions…
many of which are the same evidence you would find in any compelling
narrative. More importantly, “A good map teaches you to ask a better
question” (Frye, as cited in Kerski, 2016). These questions might include
What if I classified the data differently? What if I added this variable?
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 11
and other “what-if” questions (Kerski, 2016). Today, the ease of using
mapping tools and access to online mapping have made maps collabo-
rative and shareable in new ways. Zooming out helps us to connect our
local community to the region and the globe. But as web-based maps have
become easy to generate and share, the need for critical thinking increases.
We must be asking, “Who made that map?” and “What kind of data did
they use?” Not only should we be asking inquiry questions about the map,
but about the data that goes into the map being used for analysis (Kerski,
2019). Thematic maps are important ways to tell stories, but taking a
three-dimensional world and making it into a two-dimensional represen-
tation requires decisions on projections, scale, and symbolization. Just
like any data visualization, they can be inaccurate or misleading, deriva-
tive maps can repeat bad data, and the adage “garbage in, garbage out”
applies. How to Lie with Maps author Mark Monmonier (2018) refers to
the “cartographic mischief” that can be from “electronic blunders” (p. 2)
or be deliberate—either for clarity, or in order to deliberately deceive the
viewer. Thus questioning mapmakers’ expertise or motives becomes an
important component of developing students’ geospatial literacy.
Mapping is not an objective activity. Blair (2011) reminds us that there
are “methodological hazards of reductionism and interpretation in the
mapping exercises” (p. 52). As we seek to encourage students to look
for patterns, we also risk that they may make generalizations. It is impor-
tant to spend time helping students to see these risks and understand the
pitfalls of such activities and interpretations. In the next chapter, we will
discuss the critical place-based pedagogies that have addressed many of
these issues.
the map is being created (urban, suburban, rural), and in what context
(academic course, study abroad, informal learning).
Mapping Together
The advances in online mapping, especially online GIS, have made it
possible for groups of people to contribute to a common map. Similar
to citizen science, collaborative mapping is a type of mapping activity
that uses “volunteered geographic information” or crowdsourcing to
populate a map with geolocated data. Similar to collaborative mapping,
participatory mapping is a type of mapping activity that uses data from
multiple people, though here specifically through contributions of and
collaboration with community stakeholders, with the intended goals of
empowerment and inclusion of people who might otherwise be simply
regarded as the objects of study (Solís, McCusker, Menkiti, Cowan, &
Blevins, 2018).
Having students engage in participatory mapping can facilitate the
abstract conceptualization of spatial connections. Emmel (2008) describes
this interactive group process as a research method used to uncover local
knowledge and provide an understanding of the relationships between
people, place, and community over time. By generating maps, participants
must focus their attention on features of a specific place. This resulting
map serves as a tangible reference point for discussing abstract concepts
that emerge from concrete descriptions. Using the same process, students
move from concrete descriptions to abstract conceptualization as they
portray their understandings of the subject being studied.
Participatory mapping often includes social goals. By calling upon
multiple groups of stakeholders and allowing volunteers to interact when
creating maps together, participatory mapping (PM) can locate assets in a
community, involve local citizens in area decision-making about develop-
ment, and identify endangered animals and trees. “A consistent aspiration
of PM has been to engage and empower marginalized groups in society
through the use of spatial technologies” (Brown & Kyttä, 2018, p. 1). For
example, university “youth mappers” in Uganda are using digital maps
to display microfinance locations in the rural areas outside of their city
to help local residents find these largely unmarked services. Students in
Costa Rica were mapping locations where they spotted trash in order for
the municipal government to decide where to place trash cans. Arlington
County in Virginia, USA surveyed the public with a map to identify where
commuters and residents felt bike routes were most needed.
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 13
With the advances in and the ubiquity of mobile devices, public partic-
ipation in mapping projects has become even easier. No longer does a
person need to sit down at a computer to indicate something they saw
in their neighborhood—they can do it right away when they spot some-
thing in public. The final product is a map co-owned with the community.
Using Participatory GIS (PGIS) has a lot of potential, but participants’
possible lack of understanding of the technology and geospatial literacy
can be a limitation in using the PGIS approach (Brown & Kyttä, 2018).
There is an assumption that those involved in participatory mapping
are the people who are local to that area, but the students can be defined
as “outsiders” to an area where they are mapping. In these situations,
outside participants may be viewed with distrust; they may encounter
language and communication barriers; and the resulting ownership of
the data can be unclear (Brown & Kyttä, 2018). “The challenge of
building and maintaining trust with participants is important across
all PM [participatory mapping] domains, but especially important in
indigenous/rural/community mapping because the process is typically
sponsored by individuals outside the community of interest” (Brown &
Kyttä, p. 6); additional challenges stem from using a broad, one-size-fits-
all participatory mapping approach due to the differences in how this type
of mapping is used in the global south with indigenous peoples versus
urban residents in Western countries, thus underscoring the need to take
social context, lived experiences, and perspectives of the community into
account.
Critical Mapping
Whether it is “critical cartography” (Allen & Queen, 2015), “critical
GIScience” (Solís et al., 2018), or the broader fields referred to as the
“critical pedagogy of place” (Gruenewald, 2003), this group of peda-
gogical approaches questions the “assumptions, practices, and outcomes
taken for granted in dominant culture and in conventional education”
(Gruenewald, 2003, p. 3). That process of challenging assumptions
involves two phases, according to Gruenwald. First we need to “iden-
tify, recover, and create material spaces and places that teach us how to
live well in our total environments (reinhabitation)” and second, we need
to “identify and change ways of thinking that injure and exploit other
people and places (decolonization)” (Gruenewald, 2003, p. 9). We will
be discussing this critical approach to place-based education and mapping
throughout this book.
14 E. LANGRAN AND J. DEWITT
Mobile Mapping
The way that we are able to record geographic information has changed
dramatically in a short period of time. Years ago, GIS was confined to
desktop applications in which inserting non-numeric data collected in the
field, such as images, was challenging. More than ten years ago, when
teaching a course that used images collected as data during place-based
learning, the students used handheld GPS units to mark waypoints, and
took photos with the GPS unit appearing in the foreground, with the
historic building or monument in the background (Langran & Alibrandi,
2008). This, of course, led to some fuzzy images (Fig. 1.1).
16 E. LANGRAN AND J. DEWITT
Back in the computer lab, we would compile the data into spread-
sheets by hand, make shapefiles, and several steps later, we would be able
to use our networked GIS software to have the geolocated images and
other data appear in the onscreen map. Now, with mobile devices such
as smartphones and tablets, these data can be directly added to the map
from the field in a new era of what we refer to as “mobile mapping.”
Mobile devices can stimulate learning by supporting students in the
field as they craft their own analysis. In this type of inquiry pedagogy,
students identify a location of interest, and capture geotagged voice
notes and photos on location. Students can engage in the wonder of
asking questions and discovering answers (Dodge, 2011). Mobile devices
support the integration of place-based learning back into the classroom,
where the instructor can guide student discussions, modeling the process
of analysis. The Open University Innovation Report (Ferguson et al.,
2019) named place-based learning on its 2019 list of innovating pedago-
gies, not because it is a new method, but because of the new possibilities
provided by mobile technologies to support place-based learning. Both
the ubiquity of mobile devices, as well as the comfort level and ease of use
among a wider range of people, make this technology easier to integrate
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 17
Informal Learning
Informal learning occurs when we explore national parks or move into a
new neighborhood. In our pursuit of developing a skill, and in answering
a question or solving a problem, we have a spontaneous and learner-driven
experience that often takes advantage of collaboration, bringing together
communities of learners who share tips, expertise, and lessons learned.
This type of informal learning generally occurs outside of classroom
education and training. While it diverges from place-based education in
that it lacks instructor-assigned learning objectives and structure, it shares
the value placed on experiential learning in authentic settings. As we seek
to develop lifelong learners and professionals who are able to transfer
classroom knowledge to real-world situations, an inquiry-based and place-
based project can borrow from informal learning literature and from what
we have learned from observing popular location-based and location-
enabled gaming applications, such as Pokémon Go and Wizards Unite.
Alternate reality games that are location dependent demonstrate how a
story-driven transmedia platform can engage players to interact with place
and other players. Being at a particular location triggers an event in the
mobile application.
1 PLACE-BASED LEARNING, GEOSPATIAL LITERACY, AND MAPS 19
Note All of these could have a spatial attribute added but don’t as stated here
the many ways that where we live and work shapes the differential oppor-
tunities and challenges experienced by our students. Proximity to health
care services like testing or emergency care and residential density were
closely associated with infection rates. And those who could afford to
stay home and self-isolate had a lower chance of contracting the virus
than those who served on the front line. As teachers and students across
the U.S. (and around the world) attended school on virtual platforms,
the pandemic offered a striking example of how place matters in our daily
lives.
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CHAPTER 2
Spatial Thinking
Speaking to a broad audience in The Harvard Business Review, Golds-
berry (2013) makes the case for expanding students’ exposure to
spatial thinking in our educational system. He begins by noting that
the Geography Department was the only program ever eliminated at
Harvard University since its founding. Similar closings at other universi-
ties followed, which Goldsberry contends is ironic because soon thereafter
technological developments like Google Maps increased the everyday use
of geospatial technology. The result of the geography department clos-
ings was that fewer students learned spatial reasoning skills such as reading
maps. Of greater concern however is the fact that fewer students were
learning to create maps and analyze spatial data sets, despite the advances
in online GIS (Alibrandi & Baker, 2008). Like many others, Goldsberry
concludes that we need to recommit to the type of curriculum that
develops “a generation of great data visualizers who can tackle our chal-
lenges” (Goldsberry, 2013, para 8). While Goldsberry certainly was not
the first to make this observation, publication of the Harvard Business
Review article suggests that a broader conversation was needed about
spatial education.
Meanwhile, conversations about spatial literacy were well underway
within many academic circles of educators such as those from the honors
community, geoscience, environmental studies, or K-12 social studies.
These conversations rarely took place across disciplinary domains and
often stopped short of generating a comprehensive understanding of how
spatial thinking could be taught. An early exception resulting from collab-
oration is the National Research Council’s Learning to Think Spatially
(2006). This NRC report summarized the analytical processes that make
up spatial thinking and the need for systematically developing students’
spatial reasoning skills.
Children develop mental maps based on direct experience with their
environment such as the routes they take from home to school or the
playground. In the process of their daily lives, they relate these experi-
ences to their own relative position. As children grow, they add indirect
experiences such as the knowledge gained from video, images, and text
about places, and develop a geocentric view that sees how places are
connected (Kimerling, Buckley, Muehrcke, & Muehrcke, 2009). Without
spatial reasoning, the resulting mental maps and cartographic maps may
not necessarily match. Place-based learning is among the ways to connect
2 HOW AND WHY PLACED-BASED LEARNING WORKS 27
Martin Read reared his family well, and in the Episcopal Church.
His son, Rev. Dr. Read, preached for many years at Christ’s Church
in Poughkeepsie. He wove coverlets, blankets, broadcloth, flannel,
worsted, linen, tow-cloth, and calamanco. This last was a glossy
woollen twilled fabric, sometimes woven in a pattern in the warp.
James Fontaine, a Huguenot weaver, says it was made of a fine
double-twisted worsted. It was much used for the nightgowns and
banians worn by substantial citizens of the day, and for women’s
winter-gowns.
Other goods made by Weaver Read were duroy, durant, and
crocus, a coarse tow-stuff for servants’ wear. This word, crocus, still
may be heard in Virginia, and perhaps elsewhere in the South,
where it was more and longer used than in Narragansett.
Martin Read lived near the old church he so dearly loved, and a
sightly spot it was for a home. Still standing beside the church
foundation, the site where the church first stood, is the deserted
house in which Martin Read lived and wove and whistled and sung.
On the road near his home lives to-day the last of the old-time
weavers, one who can weave woollen and linen stuffs. Hand-
weaving is not with him an accidental industrial makeshift, but his
every-day occupation and means of livelihood. He learned to weave
from one of Martin Read’s apprentices.
His low, weather-beaten house, set in a close-walled garden, is
one of the most picturesque in old Narragansett. We entered from a
glory of midsummer sunlight into a cool, pale-green light which
penetrated the rooms through the heavy shadows of the rugged old
cedar-trees that overhung the roof and the ancient lilacs that pressed
close to the windows.
There has ever been associated in my mind with the trade of
weaving the pale and sickly appearance and bearing of many
English mill weavers; and, though ever of country life, this Yankee
weaver was no exception to the rule. His skin, of extreme delicacy,
was pale, yet suffused at times with that semi-transparent flush
which is seldom seen save on those whose life is wholly indoors. His
hair and beard were long and white, and had evidently been light-
brown before they were white; his bright blue eyes looked pleasantly
and intelligently out from the wisps of white hair. His visible attire was
a clean, but collarless, white shirt and a pair of blue overalls; his feet
were bare. We mounted with him the narrow enclosed staircase to
the loom-loft.
There was such a flood of color out of doors, the fields and trees
were so green, the tangle of larkspurs in the garden was so blue, the
sunbeams so radiant, that the attic seemed but a dull abiding-place
for a summer’s day; but as the eye grew accustomed to the dimmer
light and learned to avoid the piercing arrows of sunshine that
burned in through the heart-shaped holes in the shutters and made
every mote of wavering dust in their path a point of unbearable
glitter, then the attic seemed quiet and peaceful, and its shadows
were grateful; and even the bang, bang of the loom when it was
started up was not a garish rattle. Heaps of gay woollen yarns lay
under the eaves, and a roll or two of rag-carpeting and strips of
worn-out bed-coverlets of various patterns were hung on the beams
or piled in heaps. There were vast boxes of cotton twine; and many
yarn-beams ready wound, and swifts and quilling-wheels and
“scarnes,” many in number, thrust under the garret eaves. Among
the discarded wool-wheels and flax-wheels heaped high in the
corner—obsolete before their fellow, the hand-loom—I did not peer
deep. Though neglected, they are jealously treasured, for “that was
grandma’s foot-wheel,” and “Aunt Eunice used that wool-wheel sixty-
two year,” showed that what seemed to me useless lumber was
haloed with association and tradition. I have never seen or felt
elsewhere any such picture, any such atmosphere of an industrial
life that is forever past, as that old-time weaving. The dim half-light of
the loom-room and the darker garret beyond; the ancient chairs that
thrust out a broken arm, and tables that put forth a claw-foot from the
shadows; the low buzzing of hornets that fluttered against the upper
skylight or hung in dull clusters on the window-frame—hornets so
dull, so feeble, so innocuous in their helplessness that they seemed
the ancients of their day; the eerie clamor of swallows in the
chimney; the pungent aroma of “dry, forgotten herbs,” that swayed in
the summer wind from every rafter; and the weaver, pale and silent,
laboriously weaving his slow-growing web with a patience of past
ages of workers, a patience so foreign to our present high-pressure
and double-speed rates that he seemed a century old, the very spirit
of colonial, nay, of mediæval days.
There was a monotonous yet well-controlled precision in this
weaver’s work that was most soothing, and that seems to be a
characteristic influence of the homespun industries. It was felt by
Wordsworth and voiced in his sonnet:
This precision in work is that of the skilled hand and thinking brain
controlling the machine, not the vast power of steam relentlessly
crowding the overworked body and dulled brain.
By this hand-weaving, as if to prove Ruskin’s glowing and inspiring
assertions, this weaver earns an independent living in intelligent
work, of reasonable hours, in a comfortable house, and in conditions
favorable to health—a vast contrast to the overworked, unhealthy,
poorly fed, stultified factory-worker. His business has so prospered of
late that he has had a trade-card printed at the village printer’s like
any other independent manufacturer. From it I learn that he weaves
rag-carpets, bed-coverlets, and hap-harlots. Hap-harlots, forsooth!
could anyone believe that obsolete word had been used since
Holinshed’s day? He wrote in 1570, in his “Chronicles of England,”
etc.:
“Our fathers have lien full oft upon straw pallets or rough
mats, covered onlie with a sheet under coverlets made of
dagswain or hap-harlots, and a good round log under their
heads instead of a bolster.”
Yet here have been Narragansett weavers weaving hap-harlots,
and sleeping under hap-harlots, and speaking of hap-harlots as
though three centuries ago were as yesterday. I presume they have
made dagswains also, since there still exists bills of Narragansett
shepherds for dagging sheep.
The old-time cotton and wool bed-spreads or coverlets, seen of
old on every four-post bedstead, he now sells for portières and
bathroom rugs, as well as for bed and couch spreads. They are
woven in simple geometric patterns, just as in the times of the
ancient Britons, when the wools of the weft were dyed with woad and
broom. The patterns are nearly all over a century old. He has a worn
pattern-book with bewildering rules for setting the heddles for over
fifty designs. Quaint of name are the patterns: “chariot-wheels and
church-windows,” is a bold, large design; “church-steps,” a simpler
one; “bachelors’ fancy,” “devil’s fancy,” “five doves in a row,”
“shooting-star,” “rising sun,” “rail fence,” “green veils,” offer little in
their designs to give reason for their names. “Whig rose,” “Perry’s
Victory,” and “Lady Washington’s fancy,” show an historical influence
in naming. “Orange-peel” is simply a series of oblong hexagons
honeycombed together. “All summer and all winter” was similar.
“Bricks and blocks” is evenly checkered. “Capus diaper” is more a
complicated design for weaving damask linen, taking five harnesses.
Floral names are common, such as “Dutch tulip,” “rose in bloom,”
“pansies in the wilderness,” “five snow-balls,” etc.
The loom on which this Narragansett weaver works might be six
centuries old. You may see precisely similar ones pictured by
Hogarth in the middle of the eighteenth century; and an older one
still in the Campanile at Florence, by Giotto, in 1334.
These excerpts from a letter of Weaver Rose’s give some pleasant
weaver’s lore, and are in the lucid, simple, and quaint English to be
expected of a man who still weaves and talks of hap-harlots:
“My grandfather and grandmother Robert and Mary
Northrup lived at what is now called Stuart Vale but then
known as the Fish Pond, in a little hamlet of four houses, only
one of which, my grandfather’s, is now standing. He owned a
shore and fished in the spring and wove some at home and
went out amongst the larger farmers working at his trade of
weaving, whilst his wife carried on the weaving at home and
had a number of apprentices. He learned his trade of weaving
of Martin Read, the deacon of St. Paul’s Church, who lived a
few rods from the church. He died in 1822, his wife lived till
1848. The spool I gave you was made by Langworthy Pierce,
a veteran of the Revolution. It has the initials of his name. I
send you now one of his shuttles used for weaving
broadcloth, and a square of linen I have woven for you of a
pattern of five harnesses called Browbey. The looms here in
Narragansett were all made by local carpenters. Stephen
Northrup made looms, and Freeborn Church made looms and
spinning wheels. I have 2 of his make. Friend Earle! more
money can be made by weaving than farming. I have wove 30
yards of rag carpet in one day at 10 cents a yard; or 23 cents
a yard when I found the warp. There was a man here by the
name of Eber Sherman, he called himself Slippery Eber. He
died in the war of 1812; his widow worked at spinning for 25
cents per day and supported herself and one son well on that
wage. One dollar and a half per week was regular wage for a
woman’s work. It took a woman one week to weave a coverlet
of 3 yards long and 2-1/2 yards wide. Mahala Douglas went
out to work at one dollar and a half per week making butter
and cheese, milking seven cows every week day and nine on
Sunday. She died leaving a large Estate, several thousand
dollars, which her Legatees had no trouble in spending in six
weeks. My grandfather was one of eight children. One brother
was Rev. William Northrup; Thurston Northrup, another
brother, was a school-teacher and a weaver of coverlets and
cloth. John Northrup was called Weaver John. He was a
coverlet weaver. John Congdon was a maker of Weavers’
reeds or slays. I have 70 or 80 of his make in my house. I
have a reed that my grandfather Northrup had made when he
went to the Island of Rhode Island weaving Broadcloth. He
received 50 cents per day pay. Good Cream Cheese was 3
cents a pound at the same time of the Embargo in the war of
1812. I have an Eight and Twenty slay with 29 Beer that cost
one dollar, made by John Congdon 70 years ago, as good as
when made. He lived in North Kingston.”
The word slay or sley, meaning a weavers’ reed, has not been
used commonly in England for many years, and is contemporary
with hap-harlot. A beer was a counting-off of forty warp-threads.
It may be seen by this letter how many classes of workmen were
kept busily employed by these homespun industries; makers of
looms, wheels, reeds, scarnes, raddles, temples, swifts, niddy-
noddys, spools, and shuttles; and turners of warp-beams and cloth-
beams. The proper shaping of a shuttle was as important as the
shaping of a boat’s hull. When the shuttle was carefully whittled out,
smoothed off with glass, lightly shod with steel, and marked by burnt-
in letters with the maker’s initials, it was a proper piece of work, one
for a craftsman to be distinctly proud of. Spools could be turned on a
lathe but were marked by hand. No wonder our weaver loved his old
worn-out rubbish; every piece had been made and used by his
kinsfolk and neighbors, who had put into every spool, shuttle, and
loom good, faithful hand-work; and, like the cloths he wove, they
wore well.
Weaver Rose would be an unimpeachable candidate for many of
our modern patriotic-hereditary societies. One great-great-
grandfather held a commission under King George III., which the
weaver still has. Others were members of the provincial assemblies.
Two great-uncles were taken on board a Yankee privateer in the
Revolution, carried to England to Dartmoor Prison, and never heard
of afterward. The son of one of those patriots was captured in the
War of 1812, and kept eight years at Dartmoor, while he was
mourned in Narragansett as dead. He was then released, returned
home, and held to his death an office under the government at
Wickford, a Narragansett seaport. One great-uncle was starved to
death in the prison-ship Jersey in the Revolution, and another lost
his life in Newport during imprisonment by the British. Grandfather
James Rose was with the famous Kingston Reds in the Battle of
Rhode Island and other Revolutionary encounters; and the weaver’s
father, William Rose, fought in the War of 1812. His great-great-
grandfather Eldred killed the famous Indian warrior Hunewell, after
that cruel Narragansett tragedy, the Swamp Fight. Hunewell was
naked and covered with grease, but he was not slippery enough to
escape the bitter Englishman, who had been fighting for days. This
tragedy was at Silver Spring, about two miles from the weaver’s
home. Another Indian chased Eldred, but without capturing him. The
chase was long, and Eldred did not spend much time in looking
backward, but he never forgot the Indian’s face; and some years
later he met in Newport an Indian who was very smooth and friendly,
but whom he at once recognized as his old-time enemy. The weaver
thus grimly and laconically tells the sequel: “Grandfather got an awl
and settled it in his forehead and finished him.” Great-grandmother
Austin was one of sixteen children. Their names were Parvis, Picus,
Piersus, Prisemus, Polybius, Lois, Lettice, Avis, Anstice, Eunice,
Mary, John, Elizabeth, Ruth, Freelove. All lived to be three-score and
ten, and one to be five-score and two years old.
I have dwelt somewhat at length on the sturdy fighting ancestry of
this weaver, with a distinct sense of pleasure at the quality of his
forebears. He is, in the best sense, a pure American, with not a drop
of admixture of the blood from recent immigrations. Some of his
ancestors were those who made the original Petaquamscut
purchase from the Indians, and here he lives on the very land they
purchased. It is such examples as this that give dignity to New
England rural life, give us a sense of not being offensively new. In
my genealogical researches in England I have not found such cases
nearly as common as in New England. Surprise and even
annoyance is shown in England at your expectation and hope to find
descendants of the original owners occupying farm-houses and
manors two hundred years old.
Had the weaving been the only portion of the work done in the
farm-house it would seem an important addition to the round of
domestic duties, but every step in the production of clothing was
done at home, as expressed by Miss Hazard of her great-
grandfather’s household in Narragansett: “From the shepherd who
dagged the sheep, the wool-comber who combed the wool, the
spinners who spun, the weavers who wove, all in regular order till the
travelling tailor made the clothes up, and Thomas Hazard went to
meeting in a suit made from wool of his own growing.” The “all-wool
goods, yard wide,” which we so glibly purchase to-day meant to the
Narragansett dame the work of months from the time the fleeces
were given to her deft fingers. After dag-locks, bands, feltings, tarred
locks, were skilfully cut out, the white locks were carefully tossed and
separated, and tied in net bags with tallies, to be dyed. The homely
saying, “dyed in the wool,” indicated a process of much skill. Indigo
furnished the blue shades, madder and logwood the red. Sassafras,
fustic, hickory, and oak bark furnished yellow and brown. It will be
noted that the old-time dyes were all vegetable. After the dyeing
mixed colors could be made by spreading in layers and carding them
over and over again. In carding wool, the cards should be kept warm
and the wool very slightly greased with rape-oil or “swines’-grease.”
At last the wool was carded into light rolls and was ready for the
wheel.
An old writer says, “The action of spinning must be learned by
practice, not by relation.” The grace and beauty of wool-spinning,
ever sung by the poets, need not be described. Stepping lightly
backward and forward, with arms at times high in the air, now low at
the side, often by the light only of the fire, the worker, no matter what
her age, seemed the perfection of the grace of motion; and the
beauty of the occupation makes the name of spinster (the only title
by law of every single woman) a title of honor and dignity.
The preparation of flax was infinitely more tedious and more
complicated. From the time the tender plant springs up, through
pulling, spreading, drying, rippling, stacking, rotting, cleaning,
braking, swingling, beetling, ruffling, hetchelling, spreading, and
drawing, there are in all over twenty dexterous manipulations till the
flax is ready for the wheel, the most skilful manipulation of all, and is
wrapped round the spindle. Flax thread was spun on the small flax-
wheel. “Lint on the wee wheel, woo’ on the muckle.” It was reeled
into skeins on a clock-reel, which ticked when the requisite number
had been wound, when the spinner stopped and tied the skein. A
quaint old ballad has the refrain:
“And he kissed Mistress Polly when the clock-reel ticked.”