Office of Graduate Studies

Penn Logo Office of Graduate Studies
Penn's Graduate Programs

Prospective students

Rules, Regulations and Policies

Teaching prizes

Funding opportunities

Fontaine Society

Contact us








Penn Home Penn A-Z Directories Calendar Maps
Advanced Search
Office of Graduate Studies
D'Maris Coffman
History
with President Gutmann and Interim Provost Peter Conn



“History is not the past; history is thinking about the past.” Jonathan Steinberg’s pithy summary of what professional historians do best encapsulates my own philosophy of teaching history. Our students too often complain that the history they learned in school could be reduced to a simple recitation of facts, a discouraging catalogue of what Edward Gibbon once described as “little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.” If ‘history’ were simply that past, undergraduates would be justified in their skepticism towards its putative ‘lessons.’ They know very well that the past is no sure guide to the future. ‘Thought experiments’ about a shared, if often alien, human past may well better equip them for sensitive, critical, and nuanced engagement with the present.

I want students to see, from the outset, that if professional historians are in dialogue with the past, we are in conversation with one another. In teaching for survey courses, I emphasize and elaborate upon the historiographical traditions – Whig, Marxist, and revisionist—and ask students to marshal the information in their readings to evaluate the arguments to which they are exposed. In recitation, I will often argue for a different interpretation than the professor did in lecture. Students frequently realize for themselves that such interpretations can operate simultaneously; in other instances, I ask them to tell me how they would resolve competing claims about the past. I find it very satisfying to see students recognize how the explanations advanced by academic historians inform, often unconsciously, their own views of their world.

I challenge students—especially those from other schools, disciplines and majors—to bring concepts and ideas from coursework in micro- and macroeconomics, psychology, sociology, anthropology, political science, philosophy, literary and religious studies to bear on their thinking about the past. History as a discipline offers few indigenous methodologies; instead, we must often import analytical models from the social sciences and hermeneutic approaches from the other humanities. I want students to understand how critical theory develops and how historians use it. I also want them to see that what history offers, in turn, is an appreciation of the material realities and mental worlds in which canonical theorists (Adam Smith, Karl Marx, Charles Darwin, Sigmund Freud, Emile Durkheim, Max Weber, to name a few) conducted their own analyses.

If history is thinking about the past, thought occurs in language. I rely on techniques I developed as a critical writing fellow to introduce students to the conventions of historical writing. I insist that students express themselves precisely in their written work. I emphasize that in assessing that work I am chiefly interested in the clarity and quality of their arguments. Inadequate command of factual material, poor control of narrative, vague or sloppy argumentation, and unwieldy prose can all mar an essay. I do my best to allay their anxieties about grading by making my expectations for an assignment clear to the students and by entertaining their questions and concerns. Yet I insist that they confront the reality that objectivity is a mirage. I stress fairness as my chief goal. As such, I do not read drafts or otherwise coddle students. I want them to see themselves engaged in historical thinking by and for themselves. I caution them against re-hashing received interpretations.

On a personal level, I try to make myself accessible. I hold two sets of office hours a week and invite students to contact me by email if they wish to discuss the course. I do not distinguish between their content and administrative questions. Because I am ten years older than most of them and a Penn alumna myself, I feel comfortable encouraging them to address me informally. I ask them to bring their problems with all aspects of the course to me. While I make sure they know that they can contact the professor if they cannot resolve them, I see my role as teaching assistant chiefly in terms of my relation to the course director. I try to keep the professor informed of potential problems, but I fully appreciate that I would hardly be of much real assistance if I could not resolve them myself.

I do believe that sharing my enthusiasm for the discipline is the only thing I can do to combat the tendency of undergraduates at elite institutions to value their educations for the credential alone. In their frenzied pursuit of grades and degrees, too many have lost the ability to derive pleasure from using the intellects that got them into Penn. For these students, the pursuit of knowledge is a nerve-racking chore. More than anything else, I want to impart to students something of the rigors and rewards of ‘thinking about the past.’ I hope that will, in turn, encourage them to think critically and self-reflexively about the material realities, social problems, and ideological controversies of the present.



   


Graduate Student Center

Research at Penn

Penn News




Penn Home Penn A-Z Directories Calendar Maps
Copyright © 2005, University of Pennsylvania
3451 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, PA 19104 · 215-898-5000
Webmaster | Copyright Information | Privacy