Every "Why?" question, in other words, is a small research project.
But research without proper packaging just won't pop.
Imagine if all your Christmas presents were just sitting out under the tree unwrapped.
Where is the excitement in that, right?
Often then I tell my students that the best wrapping paper is a story.
Earlier in the month I worked with a student on his "Why U of Chicago?" essay.
His first draft read like a set of bullet points.
Some great points.
Just no bow and bright ribbon.
So we discussed what kind of stories he might tell from his own experience that would connect with the essay prompt.
In the end, he unearthed one story that really tied in creatively and cogently with what he loved about U of Chicago's ethos.
In
preparation for the spring English final, my teacher, Dr. Powell, drew six big
buckets and added the following -isms over each bucket: Puritanism, Neoclassicism,
Romanticism, Transcendentalism, Realism, and Modernism. He then asked us to put
each author, poet, and literary work that we read all year in American
literature in their appropriate bucket. At first, some students in my class
just assumed that each writer belonged in only one bucket. Nathaniel
Hawthorne was a Romanticist. Emily Dickinson was a
Transcendentalist. Twain was a Realist. But then I raised my hand and asked
Dr. Powell, "Well, couldn't Dickinson also go in the Modernist bucket
too? Her poetry reflects anxiety, uncertainty about the world, and a
fragmented confidence in institutions like the church. Isn't that 'modern'?”
Dr. Powell wryly smiled and quipped, "Right." Before I knew it, my
classmates and I were debating which buckets the writers fit into, and if they
could fit in more than one bucket. Dr. Powell never told us if we were right or
wrong. He never forced his opinion on us, and he never forced a writer
into any bucket. We instead had to “do the bucket work”. In other words, Dr. Powell made us take
ownership of our educational experience.
The University of Chicago is a learning ethos where one will find
buckets without lids. Students are
invited, like we were in Dr. Powell's class, to fill the buckets up with
"outside-of-the-box" kind of thinking. So often we want only one
answer to our question. We desire an equivalency where A=B. At the U of
Chicago, A can equal B, but it can also equal C, D, E, and F. What Dr.
Powell's class did for me is solidify that the most effective way I learn
involves dialogue that allows something organic, synergistic, and seminal to
emerge from the seeming chaos of open-ended debate and free inquiry. U of Chicago fosters this kind of democratic
pedagogy, and I sense, therefore, that I would fit within this learning
environment the way, I concluded, Emily Dickinson belonged in both the
Transcendentalist and Modernist buckets.
It's a great thing to show U of Chicago that you love the way they teach students.
Research tells.
Stories show.
The challenge then involves trying to find ways to integrate both research and story in a dynamic and ingratiating way.
