Barefoot on the tile floor, each man and woman pushes back their chair and rises reverently to the satin-clad emperor.
"All rise, the emperor is now coming!"
The ruler processes in to a heavy, rhythmic drum beat - performed with a stick on a Frisbee - and takes a regal seat to prepare to listen to the appeals of the citizens.
For these 22 students, it's just another day in History at Play, Liberal Arts Honors 305. The emperor is Liberal Arts Honors and history sophomore Brad Barmer, dressed in a knee-length bathrobe.
The class, taught by lecturer Julie Casey, takes students through three eras of history - Athenian Greece, China's Ming Dynasty and the French Revolution. But instead of regurgitating endless information back through tests and evaluations, the students use their class time to act out the past.
In the Ming dynasty, conflict is arising as the emperor is resisting the tradition by hesitating to give his natural-born son the throne. The students, acting as respected Chinese scholars and advisers, bring their appeals to the emperor, trying to maintain the formal protocol of the era while making a persuasive argument.
"The people will revolt if you do not do this."
The students address other serious issues before the emperor and his grand secretary. There is uncertainty as to whether Mateo Richie, a missionary, should be allowed into the area. Students argue for his positive foreign knowledge of technology, as well as his negative Christian ideals that conflict with Confucianism.
The student's suggestions draw on hours of preparation and reading. For this era, the class readies by reading Confucius' "Analects" and author Ray Huang's "1587, A Year of No Significance: The Ming Dynasty in Decline." Students also use outside sources.
"It is another level of engagement" with the texts, Casey said. She said the students internalize the text more than a typical class.
Kim Jennings, a psychology and Plan I Honors sophomore, argues against the introduction of Mateo Richie into the province by saying, "It is my opinion that introducing a badger into the garden is not the best way to preserve the flowers."
The dynamic of the Chinese dynasty, Casey said, is almost paternalistic, a dynamic that is preserved in class proceedings. One instance of a speech being read verbatim, instead of given with the occasional assistance of notes, resulted in a student having to surrender her seat and stand for the remainder of the class period. Another was forced to sit on his hands after he was caught resting his head briefly.
At the beginning of each game, the students receive a loose script, a role to play and their victory objectives in playing the game.
"The students are truly invested in this," Casey said.
They spend time outside of class working to ensure their victory, meeting with other students and talking to Casey for advice. For this game, if the emperor decides to name his proper son the successor, the people with that outcome designated on their role sheets win.
The class isn't all acting, though. The students write two papers per game - six or seven throughout the semester - in which they expand upon the readings and lecture, internalize the material and explain their thoughts on the situation.
Mark Carnes, a professor at Barnard College, designed the curriculum for History at Play when he noticed that he, as well as his students, were bored with the typical history class. Thirteen years later, the original idea of a debate set in historical moments has grown to a deep and intense curriculum in place at 180 institutions, Carnes said. Faculty who are training to use the curriculum do so by participating in mini-games.
In these classes, the students also enhance their leadership skills, since the game master - or instructor - is largely silent during the games. The events of the classes are organic. After students are assigned their roles and given guidelines, they use their research and make their owns decisions as to where the game goes. And sometimes, it's not exactly historically accurate.
For the re-enactment of the Ming dynasty in Casey's classroom, the finish was dramatic.
"In their final memorials, many of Emperor's supporters cautioned him against the use of extreme punishment, criticized his policies, remained silent on the succession issue, while his critics were eloquent and organized," Casey said. "Even his trusted adviser, the First Grand Secretary [Liberal Arts Honors and French sophomore Kristina Pekkala] offered to resign, citing that harsh punishment is un-Confucian. When I announced that the Emperor lost his Mandate from Heaven, he committed suicide."







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