The Blackboard
On educational technology, teaching math, and a few rebellious Yale undergrads
Earlier this week, over 5,000 people gathered in San Diego for the annual ASU-GSV educational technology conference. Nearly every panel at the conference touched on the role of artificial intelligence in shaping the future of education. Panelists from college presidents to startup founders were asked how AI innovations would affect education. Would college diplomas become irrelevant? (Possibly.) Would teachers be replaced by avatars? (Unlikely.)
We are entering “a brave new world” of educational technology, the conference’s theme proudly declared. But this isn’t the first time technology has ushered in a “brave new world” to education.
Consider the blackboard. First used in an American classroom during an 1801 math lecture at West Point, this seemingly-simple technological innovation — hanging a blank canvas for writing at the front of a class — revolutionized math education in 19th century America.
At that time, students brought whatever math textbook they happened to have to class. In turn, there was little consistency around the explanations students received for math concepts. Some saw one explanation; some saw another. The blackboard unified this. A teacher could write one explanation on the board, and everyone could study it together. The blackboard ushered in a form of rote, teacher-centered math education that would dominate for the next two centuries. Today, educators are attempting to dismantle this systemized approach by using digital tech to customize learning experiences to individual students. We’re trying to get back to the days before the blackboard.
The blackboard, though, changed more than just lectures. It also changed assessment.
Prior to the blackboard, when taking a test, students were allowed to look at figures in their textbooks. But, starting in the early 1800s, students were expected to solve exam problems on the blackboard. They needed to draw their own diagrams from memory instead of referencing pre-existing figures in a book. It was the birth of the “show your work” movement in math education.
In 1825, a group of Yale undergrads were unhappy with this change. They complained this pedagogical approach was unfair, especially when applied to the challenging subject of conic sections. So, the students launched a rebellion. They insisted on open book tests. Of the 87-person sophomore class, 38 refused to solve “show your work” conic section problems at the blackboard.
The University administration contacted the students’ parents, and the students were pressured into signing an apology: “We, the undersigned, having been led into a course of opposition to the government of Yale College, do acknowledge our fault in this resistance, and promise, on being restored to our standing in the class, to yield a faithful obedience to the laws [of Yale].”
However, the battle didn’t end in 1825. Five years later, in 1830, 43 Yale students launched a second rebellion, again insisting on open book tests for conic sections. This time, though, the students did not back down. They signed a petition stating they would “render themselves obnoxious” and “transgress every college law” until a ruling was made in their favor.
The University did not rule in their favor. All 43 students were expelled.
The blackboard brought forth a “brave new world” in math education. Artificial intelligence will certainly do the same, though only time will tell what this new world will look like. Who knows, maybe this time students won’t need to memorize conic sections diagrams.
Addendum: A parent intervenes.
The parent of one of the students who participated in the 1830 rebellion tried to get his son enrolled at Williams College the following year. The father wrote a letter to Williams President Edward Dorr Griffin requesting that, at the very least, his son be allowed to attend classes at Williams, even if he didn’t receive credit. Griffin wrote to Yale President Jeremiah Day in March 1831 to get his permission before admitting the young man. “Your word shall be our law,” Griffin writes. We don’t know how Day replied.
Notes.
This post is specifically concerned with the front-of-class blackboard. Small hand-held writing tablets made out of slate were in use long before the front-of-class blackboard. Small slate tablets date back to at least 11th c. India.
A number of articles have been published on the Yale Conic Sections Rebellions in The Smithsonian, The New Haven Independent, Mental Floss, Generalist, and the Yale Daily News. All of these articles were used as sources for this post.
Clarence Deming’s book Yale Yesterday details the 1825 rebellion.
You can find the 1830 petition letter cited above here.
You can find the 1831 letter from Williams President Griffin to Yale President Day here.
As always, very interesting read!