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COVER
STORY
Learning
via CD-ROM
Digital media brings Brownfield Action Project alive
Students
taking Peter Bower's introductory environmental science class learn
not by moving from chapter to chapter in a textbook, but by delving
into a real-world problem: analyzing a brownfield. All 125 students
explore (with a twist) a contaminated site that a developer wants
to turn into a shopping mall.
The
students split up into teams and are given budgets to work with.
Their mission is to discover just how and where the site, which
covers nearly seven million square feet, is contaminated. On their
first visit, they drive through the site and look it over, noting
landmarks like the factory, its parking lot and a water tower. They
drive past a residential community on the site and look at the local
vegetation. "A lot of time is spent inspecting and walking
over this site," says Bower, a senior lecturer in environmental
science at Barnard whose course is open to College students as well.
Back
in the classroom, Bower teaches the students mapping skills; then
they go about generating a map of the site with data they have collected.
After learning how public information can help, they go to the local
municipality, request reports and interview officials. Among their
destinations are the health department, the mayor's office and the
buildings department. Eventually, they turn to advanced testing
techniques: They use ground-penetrating radar, hire a company to
drill into the ground and sample the water and soil. The most industrious
students spend time digging deep into the old company's records,
and - like Erin Brockovich - track down former employees and others
with inside information, even when it means hanging out at a neighborhood
watering hole to coax information out of the locals.
Sounds
expensive, right? It is. So far it has cost about $60,000, and the
tab is rising. Expenses for this trip are paid by Columbia's Center
for New Media Teaching and Learning, with additional grant money
from Barnard's Environmental Science department and the National
Science Foundation.
The
brownfield they visit is fictional, and the students get to it anytime
by using a CD-ROM and the Internet.
Everything
mentioned above happens - on the computer. The tour they take is
a virtual one. The images they see are still photographs. Students
meet the developer (played by Bower) on video. The information they
request and the interviews they conduct are handled over e-mail.
And when they pay for drilling services by an outside company, that
company exists, and has helped develop this project. They can see
photos and video demonstrations of the equipment on the company's
Web site. Expenses are deducted from the team's budget, essentially
Monopoly money managed on a spreadsheet.
In
the process, students learn environmental science like they never
would from a book and lab assignments. At home, rather than poring
over textbooks, the students read A Civil Action and Silent
Spring and refer to legal and medical dictionaries.
"They
learn in context," says Bower. "In a way, it's a game."
The
question is, does playing that game really help students learn,
or is it just playtime?
According
to Robert Highsmith, the full-time evaluator Columbia hired to figure
that out, a project like the brownfield one really is more effective
than traditional lecturing and textbooks alone.
Highsmith
compared the final "consultant's reports" that students
prepared in previous years, before the course was digitized, with
ones that were submitted after using the virtual brownfield. "There
is a dramatic difference," he says. In the new reports, "They
sound more like they're environmental consultants. They have the
assertiveness and conviction that what they know is so strong and
so deep that they can take an advocacy stance."
Bower
has used the brownfield project to teach environmental science for
the past decade. The old way of doing the project was for information
to be written on 3x5 index cards. Students requested information
by coming up to a desk manned by Bower and his TAs, who looked up
the appropriate card and wrote down the answer for them. Necessarily,
the problem felt more like a school project than the real world.
"It
was a lot of paper pushing and took a lot of time, so the problem
had to be much simpler," Bower says.
Last
year, Bower met with Frank Moretti, the ambitious director of the
new CCNMTL. "It was a natural," Moretti says of turning
the brownfield project digital. "Simulations have terrific
possibilities in a new media environment." A team was assembled
from CCNMTL and worked during the summer of '99 on programming the
brownfield and its database.
Now,
the brownfield is made up of over two million data points. Not only
is the surface defined, but the data reaches up into the air and
down into the ground - 37 layers that include information on the
soil, bedrock and water table, as well as the contamination. But
as in the real world, the data is hidden until students probe it
using the right techniques and tests, which they learn about in
the class's lecture and through tutorials on the computer.
Because
the Brownfield Action CD-ROM could be used by other college and
even high school classes to teach environmental science, Columbia
may eventually license it through Columbia Media Enterprises, a
new division of the University charged with turning new media projects
into profit.
Last
year the course was taught with the CD-ROM only; this year it has
Web interactivity. The CCNMTL envisions that the project could be
translated to different languages and used in science courses around
the world. In addition to the packaged material, experts could give
presentations by videoconference, and teams at different schools
could work together or compete.
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