Archaeological Sciences, Creativity, and Interdisciplinary Discovery-Based Learning.

Creativity often comes from the spaces between the different tempo and mode of distinct habits of thought.

I have the great fortune to be an archaeologist working at a technological university. Nobody really knows what I am supposed to do with myself, so long as I publish my work, secure research funding, teach interesting classes, and contribute to my community of peers. While being in an interdisciplinary department can be stressful, this existence is also tremendously liberating. I am not confined in a disciplinary shoebox.

One of my great pleasures is teaching my undergraduate-level course in the archaeological sciences. I use science in my research, but I am not a Capital-S-Scientist. Most of the students in this course are not anthropology, archaeology, or history majors, but are instead from other programs and departments. These students are seeking to fill their "critical and creative thought" learning goal or their lab science requirement in our general education program. Years ago I converted my old lecture-lab format class into a research-driven and discovery-based learning experience for students, pushing them into groups that choose their own research projects. The photos in this essay are of the 2018 student teams, starting their project collaborations in environmental archaeology and zooarchaeology/material culture analysis.

I introduce them to the methods of various scientific fields and some of the really fascinating research that is going on around them. Then as they decide upon a project and start to pursue it, we shift our class to discussions about questions: What matters to different types of archaeologists? What is "science" in "archaeological thought?" How do we know what we know? What are the questions that count? The questions that matter? How can one be an ethnical professional, as a scientist or a humanist?

Archaeology matters to these students because my field is interdisciplinary down to its hard, crystalline bedrock. The field is driven by people with disparate and often conflicting interests. This is true of those doing the research, those regulating it, and those funding it. I have close and dear colleagues who are social scientists, historians, evolutionary scientists, and both artists and art historians. We archaeologists struggle with each other over what we do, how we do it, why we do it, and how we measure our successes and failures.

For me, moving among these peer groups has been a source of great joy. I admire my colleagues and their work and they inspire me. I have found that this is the source of great creativity. Students can see a group of professionals and "avocationals" struggling to find common language, trying to listen to different people puzzling over problems from different perspectives, finding common ground about what matters and what is ethical and right.

I see archaeology as a deep well for our society. This struggle inspires creative thinking about the past and present. It becomes a deep well from which we can dip for both sustenance and refreshment.

Those are my thoughts about my job on election day 2018.