Tag Archives: TEI

Getting Started with Digital History in the Classroom

Here is the information from my introductory level workshops at this year’s Getting Started in Digital History workshop at the AHA Annual Meeting. Since WordPress and PowerPoint don’t play well together, I have distilled the pretty slides with the ink blots into an annotated list of resources.

An Important Book

T. Mills Kelly, Teaching History in the Digital Age (University of Michigan Press, 2013).

Kelly considers how digital tools can helps us teach students how to think historically and takes the reader through progressively more sophisticated questions from website analysis through “Making Sense of a Million Sources” to presenting and making.

And Catherine Denial at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois, has a great handout on website analysis.

Presenting and Making: Is There a Difference?

Lying about the Past, T. Mills Kelly, George Mason University, Fairfax, Virginia

Hannah Atlas: Becoming African and American, Julian Chambliss, Rollins College, Winter Park, Florida

Critical Making or Open Design

Matt Ratto, University of Toronto

Tools and How Some People Have Used Them

WordPress (plus…)

Michelle Moravec, Rosemont College, Rosemont, Pennsylvania

Omeka

Jeffrey W. McClurken, University of Mary Washington, Fredericksburg, Virginia

W. Caleb McDaniel, Rice University, Houston, Texas

History Harvest, Open Access, Oral History

Jack Dougherty, Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut

Neatline

An Omeka Plugin from Scholars Lab at the University of Virginia

Projects

Wheaton College Digital History Project

Kathryn Tomasek, Wheaton College, Norton, Massachusetts

TEI, History Engine, TAPASproject.org

Texas Slavery Project

Andrew J. Torget, University of North Texas, Denton, Texas

Visualizing Emancipation

Digital Scholarship Lab, University of Richmond, Richmond, Virginia

Pick Your Poison

Questions, Partners, Explorations

Collaborate with Librarians

Contingent Faculty Members, Host a Domain or Use Omeka.net/WordPress.com

Use this Process Checklist that Rebecca Frost Davis and I put together in 2011.

Embrace Imperfection

Fail Better

Have Fun!

Comments Off on Getting Started with Digital History in the Classroom

Filed under digital history, digital tools, teaching

XML/HTML5 and Perpetual Learning in Public

This will be a short post with origins in humility and a sense of the value of an attitude of openness to realizing and acknowledging that there is always more to learn.

I have to admit that I had a momentary meltdown when I read the text of Melissa Terras’s inaugural lecture, “A Decade in Digital Humanities,” last week.  The provocation about text encoding and over-attachment to XML hit a nerve, especially since I’m counting down days to my departure for the first of several summer efforts to feed my brain.  On Sunday, I head to Nashville, where I will spend two weeks in an NEH-sponsored Institute on Advanced Topics in Digital Humanities focused on XML and XQUERY.

Having chosen to attend the institute is one of the kinds of activities in which I continue to engage as I consider the ways that the technologies of the present change our practice of the discipline(s) in which we study the past.  So this morning I was more pleased than I can say to come across an announcement for another learning opportunity of which I plan to take advantage this summer.

This year, the Balisage Markup Conference includes a pre-conference symposium focused on “mending fences” between XML and HTML5.  I’m particularly interested in the presentation of Alex Milowski of the University of Edinburgh; I quote the abstract here:

In the beginning, many presumed we would move to a world where XML documents and the applications that processed them would proliferate across the Web. The Web looked like a bright place for markup; technologies like XSLT made their way into the browser and linking standards were on their way. Yet, it didn’t happen. As browsers strengthened their ability to process information, render HTML documents, display media assets, and deliver applications, the role of XML was either pushed to the other side or used as a way to deliver data to applications within the browser via AJAX. The potential mismatches between the wants of the Web developer and the generic, impoverished nature of the DOM led to the development of JSON. In places where they might once have used XML, web developers have moved in droves to using JSON and HTML. XML has been removed from its role to convey data to applications, shunted to the server, and labeled legacy by many. With an uphill, generational challenge to bring it back within favor, the fundamental question is: Do we really want XML on the Web?

I’ve never gone to Balisage because the idea of “extreme markup” intimidates me more than a little.  Okay, maybe not as much as it used to now that I have sat in rooms where people have been teaching the uses of the R statistical programming language or what’s “under the hood” in Omeka.  But I think I can manage one little day of listening to people talking about the relationship between XML, the beloved tool of the text encoding community, and HTML.

Comments Off on XML/HTML5 and Perpetual Learning in Public

Filed under Learning Technologies

Teaching History with XML/TEI: A Contribution to Liberal Education

During the discussion period of a NITLE webinar I participated in last week, a member of the audience asked me why we choose to use eXtensible Markup Language (XML) compatible with the Guidelines of the Text Encoding Initiative (TEI) in the Wheaton College Digital History Project.*  And I think a response to that question merits a post here since I use this blog as a space to offer information about digital humanities methods and their use in digital history.  I focus here on the practice as part of my work as an educator.  In a future post, I will speak to the question of using XML/TEI in historical scholarship.

Fundamentally, using XML/TEI in a teaching project like ours gives students a chance to learn something about the digital tools we use every day.  I think this kind of opportunity is an important component of liberal education as defined by the American Association of Colleges and Universities (AAC&U) :

a philosophy of education that empowers individuals with broad knowledge and transferable skills, and a strong sense of value, ethics, and civic engagement.

Because I am a historian, I understand the broad knowledge and transferable skills referred to in this definition as contextual, as dependent on time and place.  So in my view, the technological developments of the past twenty or so years have created for those of us who live and work in the United States a culture so mediated by digital devices of various types that a basic understanding of those devices has become an essential part of a liberal education.

That is, I think it is part of my responsibility as an educator to help students understand the laptops and tablets and smart phones of our daily lives as comprehensible machines because we use them both to consume and produce the stuff of our culture.  Because I think that a minimal understanding of how those devices work empowers students to put their values and ethics to use in the form of civic engagement and other elements of a fulfilling human life.

Now, this does not mean that I think I need to teach my students to become programmers or even that I think I need to be a programmer.  My colleagues in computer science teach students programming and machine structures and computational thinking.  And those colleagues are better able than I to speak to larger questions of the strengths and weaknesses of XML from those perspectives.

I am a historian, and my main goal in using XML/TEI in my teaching is to give students an opportunity to spend time with primary sources in a particular kind of way that is facilitated by using these tools.  But before I explain this point, I want to say just a bit more about the value of knowing at least a little bit about XML as an educated citizen of our world.  And that requires defining XML without getting too technical.  So here goes.

XML stands for eXtensible Markup Language.  You can look it up on Wikipedia , which also has a more general entry on markup language.  But those entries go into a lot of historical and somewhat technical detail.**  Boiled down to essentials, there are only a few things that make knowing a little bit about XML a useful thing at our moment in time and place:

  • A lot of the applications that we use every day store our data using XML.  If you use Microsoft Office (Word, or Excel, or PowerPoint) or analogous applications from OpenOffice.org or Apple iWork, when you save your work, the application preserves your work in XML.
  • XML is commonly used not only for storing data but also for its exchange over the Internet.

So XML is all around us.  We use it all the time.  And so do professionals who specialize in storing and accessing information.

  • XML is a very stable format for storing data and metadata (that is, information about information).
  • XML is so stable that it is a preferred archival format among libraries and other cultural heritage organizations all over the world.  This means that even if the applications you use now disappear, new software can be written to display your information on whatever new generations of devices exist at the time.
  • XML is built to be used internationally, with the facility to include characters in any alphabet.  So you can store data that uses Chinese logograms or Cyrillic characters; you need not confine your language to English or French or some other European language.

So, XML is one of the important building blocks of the way we store and exchange information every day.  We don’t usually think about it, but it underlies a lot of what we do, and thus we can say that knowing a bit about it could be part of the broad knowledge and transferable skills that make up a liberal education.

Why use XML to teach students how to do history?

A lot of teaching students how to do history involves giving them many opportunities to spend time examining primary sources, which are the evidence out of which we create historical knowledge.  As historians, we explore information that people created in the past and make arguments about what those people did and why or how their actions were significant.  We ask questions prompted by the documents, and we look for information in other documents based on those questions.  But how do we know what questions to ask?  How do we learn enough about a particular document to have a good idea of what other documents to examine next?

One way we do these tasks is through close reading, by which I mean getting to know a document, its author, its audience, its context.  And historians have been transcribing documents as a practice related to close reading for a long time.  In fact, transcribing sources is a basic research skill that students learn early in their educations; it is not a skill restricted to the practice of history.  When we do research, we take notes.  We might say that good transcription and note-taking are some of the transferable skills of a liberal education.

Teaching students to use XML as they transcribe primary sources promotes close reading.  That is, asking students to transcribe primary sources and embed information about the sources in the files that hold transcriptions gives students opportunities to get to know the sources deeply in ways that help students learn how to interpret the sources, ask questions about them, find related sources, and build arguments grounded in historical evidence.

The story I like to tell to illustrate this process comes from a time I was teaching a course on historical methods a few years ago.  I asked the students to transcribe and mark up some pages from an account book that was kept in a store in a nineteenth-century New England town with a mixed agricultural and industrial economy.  The students happened to be transcribing pages that included the purchase and sale of a lot of potatoes, and they wanted to know more.  So we talked about agriculture and the seasonal cycles of planting and harvest.  We talked about how potatoes grow and buying seed potatoes.  And we considered potato blight, the Irish famine, and the dates of the transactions the students were transcribing.  All of this discussion was fine enough, but none of it led to any particularly satisfying interpretations of the information the students had found.

So we all did some more research, this time in secondary sources.  And we finally found an article in a journal focused on Vermont history that helped us make sense of all those potatoes.***  Because in that article, we read about the need for starch in the process of textile production in New England factories.  And we also learned that around the same time we had discovered all those potatoes being bought and sold, the people who ran textile factories used starch that was made from potatoes.

Now, I do not by any means wish to claim that this anecdote is a story of professional scholarship.  If I were using the primary source my students were transcribing as part of a scholarly research project, I might or might not focus on the potato question as a significant one for the larger project.  And even if I did for some reason need to know more about those potatoes, I would probably go about the next steps in my research differently from the way that my students and I had time to do in one assignment in a semester-long course.

But I do feel comfortable claiming that this exercise in figuring out a possible story behind all those potatoes was an effective lesson for the students in the process of doing historical research.  The students had a genuine intellectual experience that arose from close reading of a primary source.  They learned that spending time with a source can lead to interesting questions and that following where those questions lead can turn up unexpected information about the past.

For me as an educator, the value of the great potato quest lay in the opportunity it gave students to practice historical research.  And I would argue that asking students to transcribe the source and embed information about the source using XML facilitated the slowing down, the taking time, the close reading that is a significant skill for the practice of history.  In this case, XML was a tool for creating the conditions that helped students learn.  And that is the only good reason to use any technology in the classroom.

I haven’t said anything in this post about the Guidelines of the Text Encoding Initiative (TEI), which shape the kinds of information we embed in XML files in the Wheaton College Digital History Project.  Those guidelines are part of the use of XML in research and scholarship, so I will speak to them in a future post.

_________________________________

*Michelle Moravec organized the webinar, and Georgianne Hewett managed the tools that we used to present it.  Presenters focused on using digital tools in our history teaching.   Aaron Cohen presented his work using History Pin–a tool for managing images and creating exhibits–with students at Slippery Rock University.  Michelle showed a website that she and her students created using WordPress along with images of stained glass windows and a map of the college chapel at Rosemont College.  And I offered my usual presentation about our use of   The slides from all of the presentations are available here.  Amanda Hagood, who is Director of Blended Learning at Associated Colleges of the South, asked the question that prompted me to write this post.

**For more detail and an introduction to working with XML, see Joe Fawcett, Liam R.E. Quin, Danny Ayers, Beginning XML, 5th Ed. (Indianapolis, Ind.: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2012).

***David Demeritt, “Climate, Cropping, and Society in Vermont, 1820-1850,” Vermont History (1991) 59/1: 133-165.

 

 

 

 

 

Comments Off on Teaching History with XML/TEI: A Contribution to Liberal Education

Filed under digital tools

Teaching with TEI

This week, I’m in a seminar at Brown University, participating in conversations about how we use TEI in the classroom.  What a wonderful opportunity to think about so many topics: pedagogical goals and how we achieve them, what we know ourselves about the universe in which TEI operates, the importance of collaboration in Digital Humanities. Not to mention important things like what a stylesheet does and suggestions for how to distribute materials to students. The latter, of course, a distillation of years of teaching experience at the Women Writers Project.

As ever, I’m adding layers to my knowledge of and comfort with the vast set of stuff that comes with having taken my scholarship and teaching digital. I’m reminded that for my own learning, one TEI workshop has never been enough.

I’ll distill some of this into a post about plans for the first-year seminar I’m teaching this semester.  The post will appear on Digital Culture Week, which I could be doing a better job of promoting….

1 Comment

Filed under teaching

Aptitude

I’ve been thinking lately about the career aptitude test that my classmates and I took in  high school.  I remember the setting well: the high school cafeteria.  I sat at the second or third table down, on the far left side, facing the stage—roughly the place where my friends and I sat at lunch every day.  (How much of this is genuine memory?)

I have always tested well, so I have a generally positive memory of the test itself.  I remember kind of enjoying the variety of questions, though perhaps having been a bit frustrated with ones that required an ability to imagine how two-dimensional images would look once they had been folded into three-dimensional objects.

And I remember the results of the test, a recommendation that I should do work focused on organizing things, like being a file clerk.  Me and Harvey Pekar, right?

What interests me about this memory of the results (I wish I had the actual results, but I think they’re probably long lost) is how it could be read to be connected to the way that my interest in the kind of document markup I can do with TEI tends towards greater granularity.  I tend not to make use of those best practices for libraries that I mentioned last week.

And this reminds me of how I responded to a question Gerda Lerner asked in the first research seminar I took in graduate school.  She asked whether every person who had ever lived belonged in a dictionary of biography, and I said yes.  Which was the wrong answer because she was asking us to think about how, as historians, we would assess significance and apply that assessment to the formation of a research plan.  I didn’t like the idea of making those kinds of choices.

But one of the things I do like about the idea of what we are doing with the Wheaton College Digital History Project is that we are making available (eventually) documents that have not previously been known.  And I understand this activity to some degree as yet another positive answer to Gerda’s question.  In effect, we are saying that the fact these documents have not been used in the past is less a product of their insignificance than of chance.  Which is one of the things historians know about the documents we use as evidence anyway.  Whatever sources we have available to us come to us as a result of decisions that do not actually reflect their significance in some grand scheme so much as their significance to individuals for reasons that often have nothing to do with our research questions.

Sometimes, when my friends reflect on the work that I have come to be doing over the past seven years, they say that I could do this work as a librarian or an archivist.  (I’m not entirely sure whether I agree with them.)  And I wonder how close that means I have come to following the advice that resulted from that career aptitude test I took in the high school cafeteria all those years ago.

Comments Off on Aptitude

Filed under digital humanities

Digital Humanities, Libraries, and Scholarly Communication

For me, the lines between digital humanities, libraries, and scholarly communication are so faint as to be insignificant.  And my perception of the equivalences among these entities that often seem siloed to my colleagues presents a real challenge as I try to help people–both at my own institution and at other campuses–think about possible futures for higher education in our digital culture.

The source of my perception lies in my having begun to learn about how digital innovations are changing libraries and publishing as a result of my first forays into digital humanities.  In 2004, I participated in a series of workshops at Wheaton College that were sponsored by the National Institute for Technology in Liberal Education and funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.  Those workshops focused on two sets of encoding standards that use extensible markup language (XML): the Encoded Archival Description Document Type Definition (EAD DTD) and the Text Encoding Initiative (TEI).  The hands-on workshop sessions focused on TEI, and I attended the workshops out of interest in testing the use of TEI in teaching my undergraduate history students.  But the EAD component of the initial workshops meant that librarians attended too, so perhaps I have found one source of my elision of digital humanities, libraries, and scholarly communication.

Perhaps I have identified also a significant point about how these three often siloed entities are in fact connected.  I don’t mean to claim originality here.  Folks involved in digital humanities have been working on these questions for quite some time, as is clear from the discussion of the development of EAD at the Library of Congress website.  EAD and TEI were both developed in the 1990s.  Both began using Standardized General Markup Language (SGML), and both shifted to use of XML.  And both are used by libraries.

In fact according to the TEI website cited above, “Since 1994, the TEI Guidelines have been widely used by libraries, museums, publishers, and individual scholars to present texts for online research, teaching, and preservation.” A search of the TEI consortium’s website led me to slides from a talk by Susan Hockey of University College London, “Markup, TEI, Digital Libraries.” The talk was presented at the TEI Members Meeting in 2002, and it offers a good overview of issues about the relationships between changes digital innovations were bringing to libraries and digital scholarship at that time.  The TEI has a Libraries special interest group (SIG), and they recently released an update to their recommendations for best practices for use of TEI by libraries.

So TEI–the flavor of digital humanities that I practice–does have clear connections to libraries that can be traced back for at least two decades.  I’m not making that up.  What a relief!

Scholarly communication, the third of my equivalences, belongs in the set as a result of the ways that digital innovations have affected communication in general, that is in the ongoing shift from print to digital formats.  The most obvious example–the one that has received the most public outcry in the past couple of years–is the case of newspapers.  Like many people, I no longer subscribe to print newspapers; I read them online.  And I resented the introduction of a pay wall by my newspaper of choice, the New York Times, as the publisher sought a new way to make the newspaper profitable as a business.  But eventually I gave in, and I pay my fifteen dollars every month.

Like newspaper publishers, university presses have been changing their production practices for at least the past twenty years, as various word processing programs have become the tools of choice for scholars writing articles and books.  I began to hear about changes in scholarly publication when I attended a NITLE meeting on scholarly communication that was held at Pomona College in January 2008.  (I think that’s the right date.)  Like all NITLE meetings, this one gave me plenty to think about, especially the idea of open peer review.  And in the intervening years, I’ve had opportunities to sit in on discussions in which I’ve heard editors talk about workflows and publishing software.  Now, I have an essay in a volume that is undergoing open peer review and that is under contract (the volume, not necessarily my essay) with the Digital Culture series at the University of Michigan Press.

All of this seems perfectly transparent and logical to me, and I understand digital scholarship–which is the term I use to encompass my three equivalences–to be the future of scholarship and higher education.  My greatest challenge lies in parsing out how that is the case for folks who haven’t had the advantages I have had over the past seven years as I’ve learned from my digital humanities colleagues.

Comments Off on Digital Humanities, Libraries, and Scholarly Communication

Filed under digital humanities

NEH Digital Humanities Project Directors’ Meeting

Almost a week has passed since I attended the Project Directors’ Meeting at the offices of the National Endowment for the Humanities in Washington DC, and I’m struggling a bit to recall the joy I was feeling after four days almost straight of spending time with friends and colleagues who are practitioners of digital humanities. A cancelled flight home, post-travel exhaustion, and demanding local responsibilities tend to force even the most immediate and energizing of past experiences into the background.

So I want to take some time to recall the pleasure of having sat in a room filled with digital humanists for a full workday last Tuesday (which was also, by the way, Eliza Baylies Wheaton’s birthday). We began with a session just for us, hearing presentations from various members of the NEH staff. Then at 10:30 the meeting opened to the public, which included such members of the press as the reporter for Inside Higher Education who wrote up the event in a piece entitled “The Promise of Digital Humanities.” The main events in this portion of the day were two sessions of “lightning” presentations–three-slide, two-minute talks in which a total of sixty projects were summarized.

I was utterly delighted to learn about the creativity and technical innovation of classicists, historians, literary critics, and others who are developing mobile applications for subjects from Shakespeare to local history, constructing games to teach students about topics from daily life in 17th-century English villages to 18th-century medical history, and building tools to share local data for large-scale analysis. I can no more summarize the range of the projects than could the reporter from IHE.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that distinguished digital humanist Cathy Davidson would talk about her new book Now You See It: How the Brain Science of Attention Will Transform the Way We Live, Work, and Learn. I deeply appreciated her counter to the myriad books focused on scaring us about the implications of our digital culture. And I am pleased to have heard that she is giving this talk to business people and other decision makers. Hers is a powerful voice for the promise of our digital future.

Best of all, after I offered my own “lightning” report in the meeting’s afternoon session–giving the briefest of overviews of our work to date on developing standards for using TEI-conformant XML to mark up transcriptions of historic financial records–I met several people who expressed support for the work. A few of these new colleagues are interested in participating in the next steps of our project, when we are ready to test our nascent guidelines more broadly.

As I read the comments on the IHE article, I agree with historian Crandall Shiflett, Professor Emeritus at Virginia Tech University and one of the innovators who was working in digital history twenty years ago. He gives credit to his colleagues in that work and writes: “The promise and challenge of digital humanities in the new age will be to break down walls of disciplinary separation and forge collaborations among scholars across these borders, if the revolution is to become truly revolutionary. It will require private and public support on a large scale, but the reward will be the creation of new knowledge and knowledge in new ways.” Hear, hear.

*Our project “Encoding Financial Records” has received financial support from the National Endowment for the Humanities. Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this post or other publications related to the project do not necessarily reflect those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Comments Off on NEH Digital Humanities Project Directors’ Meeting

Filed under digital humanities

Encoding Financial Records

We held our NEH-funded meeting about encoding financial records at Wheaton College on August 18 and 19, and initial responses to our assessment instrument (read Survey Monkey) suggest that participants agree that we had a productive and energizing series of discussions. We will be testing some ideas based on ontological and embedded encoding through the next couple of months, and we will complete our white paper by the end of the year.

I was pleased at the level of enthusiasm for the endeavor over the course of the two days. Participants contributed experience and examples from their own projects. And I learned new things about current ideas around interoperability and making data harvestable.

We have begun to build an exciting community of practice composed of participants with diverse expertise who see significant potential in developing models for digitizing financial records from the early nineteenth century and before.

2 Comments

Filed under digital humanities

User-Friendly XML

As I continue to think through how I do history digitally, I note both that historians have been using computers for a long time and that what I do differs from the statistics-heavy social science computing people were learning when I was in graduate school. Programs like SPSS didn’t seem relevant to my dissertation project, which focused on small communities that would not have yielded statistically significant analysis. I didn’t know about Arc-GIS, and it might be interesting to see what one could learn by imposing census data on Whitney Cross’s maps of the Burned Over District. Might, at some other point.

I’m struck by how easily I accepted the idea that transcribing and marking up journals, diaries, and now financial records could yield interesting results for understanding the nineteenth-century United States. But an analogy that came to me this morning clarifies the process for me.

I’ve noted here before that I came to comfort with code as a result of the coincidence that my post-secondary education began just at the moment that computing was becoming democratized. At Rice, my own experience with mainframes began with learning to use word processors to type papers. In my early post-collegiate jobs, my comfort with learning to use similar applications earned me a position as the WordPerfect expert among the secretarial staff of a department at the UVA Medical School. I bought my first PC in grad school and developed minimal comfort with DOS, but I didn’t become a power user until I bought my first Mac and learned the joy of the Apple interface.

My development as an academic user coincided with the spread of the Internet in the 1990s, though I remained a low-end user focused on email and word processing until my first exposure to TEI and XML in 2004. The utility of statistical data remained relatively opaque to me, and my fondness for Macs and parallel contempt for Windows as a DOS-impaired lesser version of the Apple interface prevented my exploring possibilities. Coupled with my interest in pedagogical uses of technology, the advent of the World-Wide Web led to my involvement in discussions about cross-platform applications, and I became more and more comfortable in conversations about technology. Thus, I had been primed for the next stage–learning about XML through exposure to TEI and therefore becoming a different kind of academic user.

The analogy between the comparative difficulties of DOS/SPSS and Mac/XML has considerable explanatory power for me as I think about how I have come to be convinced that XML/TEI tools for transcription and markup have a place in undergraduate classrooms. I think it goes a long way towards expressing some of the assumptions behind my notion that liberal education should include exposure to computational thinking.

2 Comments

Filed under digital humanities, liberal education

Intuitively Obvious

The other day, I found myself thinking those doom laden words from the calculus class I dropped my first semester at Rice: It is intuitively obvious that…. These were the words that struck doom in my heart since my high school choices had weakened my preparation for engineering calculus. I chose not to take the pre-calc analysis course, and even though the calculus teacher loved word problems about calculating the pressure points on dams, I really didn’t get it. I did, however, take analytic geometry twice, which kind of helped me get the idea of vectors…. Sort of like the way taking introduction(s) to TEI more than once have worked for me more recently.

The notion of the intuitively obvious seemed to only slightly mathematical me akin to the sleight of hand moment when the prof’s ability to break things down and explain an equation in detail just failed. To him, it probably indicated the moment when complexity fell away and the rest of the equation simply fell into place. But whatever he was seeing was certainly not intuitively obvious to me.

So the conversation I had with a friend this afternoon, a conversation in which she kept prompting me to explain the points about the relationship between digital humanities and undergraduate research that were intuitively obvious to my geek wanna-be self but not to her, that was really helpful.

Comments Off on Intuitively Obvious

Filed under math