Students enrolled in Wisconsin history course go with the flow

It’s 10 o’clock on a wet Tuesday morning in June, and history professor John Sharpless is standing in front of a loosely assembled group of bleary-eyed students at a campground in Portage. After a night of thunderstorms, their tents are wet, their gear is strewn about, and everyone is tired.

The professor begins to lecture about water safety. “Life jackets at all times today,” he warns. “Whatever you do today, don’t try and stop yourself by grabbing a branch. You’ll flip around and tip over.”

It’s not a typical discussion section for a course dealing with American history, but this is no typical course. Sharpless is leading the 16 students of History 290 (titled “American History: A Laboratory Approach”) on a four-week expedition that will take them from Oshkosh to the mouth of the Wisconsin River. They’re journeying almost the entire way by canoe—making for one of the most unconventional and logistically challenging classes at UW–Madison.

The group soon will drop canoes into the Wisconsin River and start floating westward, paddling down what Sharpless calls Wisconsin’s original interstate and into the heart of the state’s history, ecology, geology and culture. Following the path of Father Jacques-Pierre Marquette’s 1673 journey to the Mississippi River, the course will take students some 200 miles along the Fox and Wisconsin rivers. More than just a field trip or simple historical recreation, the summer-session course is an experiment in interactive learning that Sharpless designed to give students broad exposure to Wisconsin’s past and present.

The curriculum isn’t set in stone; self-exploration is intentionally a big element. Sharpless crafted the journey specifically to allow students to investigate subjects they encounter that interest them most. And while there are no tests, students make regular observations in open-ended journals.

“I don’t think I have to provide a theme, except that these two rivers are a passage through time,” Sharpless says.

Sharpless admits that teaching the course presents a challenge. He needs to provide enough formal material and planned activities to make the trip rich in content, but he also needs to stay flexible and be willing to go, quite literally, with the flow.

That night, for example, reeking of bug spray, the students settle in for a lecture. Mike McManus, a part-time professor and history buff, talks about the history of Wisconsin politics while perched on a small log. A second presentation is a surprise—even to Sharpless.

While McManus talks and Sharpless cooks bacon and eggs, a truck pulls up to the camp site. Jeff Nania, the executive director of the Wisconsin Waterfowl Foundation, jumps out and ends up delivering an impromptu lecture on wilderness restoration and the politics surrounding efforts to preserve wildlife habitat.

Although Sharpless hadn’t planned for Nania’s visit, it proves to be a perfect illustration of how this premise for education can work. Nania covers broad ground with the students, answering a range of questions on wetland drainage issues and environmental regulation.

Such experiences contribute to what Sharpless calls “a smorgasbord” of a syllabus. “I don’t feel like I have to put it together for them,” he says of the students. “They’re all intelligent people. I want them to take away the pieces they think fit into their own little narratives. What’s impressive is that they use their off hours so effectively.”

The sense of the unexpected is only heightened one night, as a few students wander away from the camp and stumble across a couple of wayward cows, which have strayed down near a stream.

“Hey John!” someone yells. “Check this out!”

Sharpless wanders over, watching the students try to coax the animals back on course. “Only in Wisconsin!” he muses.