We wish to pass on two exercises that we have found useful in introducing political science courses. Typically, finding a common basis of experience from which students can relate to the concepts and theories of the discipline is a problem. A few students will have experienced politics in government by working in campaigns, for example, and others will have recognized that politics pervades many activities outside government. But these threads are only drawn together by an instructor with difficulty and, anyway, will be just second hand experiences for many students.

Introducing the students by using a brief game can solve the problem admirably. We will outline two games, each likely to consume an hour or so of class time; both could be conducted within one hour.

As I began to write this paper, I was forced to confront, consciously, a fact which I had previously acknowledged only tacitly, viz., that there exists a plethora of issues — pedagogical, philosophical, political, and psychological, as well as disciplinary — which must be addressed. Not wanting to ignore any of these issues and in hopes of provoking a discussion of the role of the humanities in ethics courses, I have coached the paper in the form of “reflections”. I shall first describe, without too much comment, the devising of such an ethics course and the general issues such a course raises, and secondly, I shall reflect upon the role of the humanities in such a course.

This essay may be considered a brief report to the discipline on a three year project designed to integrate citizenship and public policy education. Supported by the Fund for the Improvement of Postsecondary Education (FIPSE), an agency of the U.S. Department of Education, the project established an on-going “Workshop in Citizenship and Public Policy” in the Department of Political Science at Marshall University. Although students enroll in “workshop” as for any other course, traditional classroom methods are abandoned in an effort to engage students actively in field research related to policy problems in West Virginia. The highlight of the project is a workshop product — the West Virginia Citizens’ Almanac, to be published annually as a guide to citizen participation in the Mountain State. The almanac is intended to give direction and focus to workshop activity, bring students into an effective working relationship with current issues of citizenship and public policy, and at the same time reach out to citizens in a way that might foster greater interaction between higher education and the wider, less formal, processes of learning in a democratic society.

Does the improvement of pre-professional training at an undergraduate college come at the expense of general education in the liberal arts and sciences? Does the introduction of public administration courses and programs threaten the integrity of the political science curriculum? Increasingly, liberal arts colleges have had to address these questions as students have demanded more "practical" training as a part of their undergraduate education. Within political science departments, these questions are usually raised in the context of expanding public administration offerings. In the last few years, at Providence College, we have introduced a new Public Administration Program which has significantly improved our students preparation for public sector employment in a way that is compatible with our general political science curriculum.

Why major in political science? This is a question students often ask. Under the pressure of vocationalism, students in the liberal arts are increasingly searching for connections between their undergraduate major and the world of work. This is a concern not only of students, but necessarily of faculty and institutional planners. Anxiety about enrollment shifts from the liberal arts to vocational training has inspired foundation-funded programs to assess strategies for relating traditional learning to career preparation. At a recent major conference on the humanities and careers in business, corporate and academic leaders urged colleges and universities to pursue excellence in the humanities “without distortion and without faddish ‘relevance’ to business.” At the same time, the need to assist students with career planning of a more comprehensive nature than mere job placement was acknowledged.

This is an essay and a confession. It is an essay, because I deal with teaching from a personal point of view. It is a confession in the dual sense of revealing a few “sins,” and stating my beliefs about teaching. My aim is didactic. I hope others, including professors, students, administrators, college and university trustees, and legislators, discover something useful in what I say.

A number of factors affect how and what people teach. Performance is shaped by the professor's personality, experience, subject matter, research interests, publications, general prominence within the university or college, type of students, and the value placed on teaching by peers and the administration.

Political scientists' long-standing love affair with the United States Congress no doubt baffles people outside the profession. By the same token, the popularity of courses on Congress is not fully understood. Articles and monographs on the subject pour out at a phenomenal rate, and students receive unique benefits from courses on the subject year after year. Still the question is posed: Why so much attention to the U.S. Congress?

Much of the puzzlement arises from Congress's persistent image problem. The other branches of government have nothing quite like the comic image of Senator Snort, the florid and incompetent windbag, or Congressman Bob Forehead, the bland and media-driven founder of the "JFK Look-Alike Caucus." Pundits and humorists — from Mark Twain and Will Rogers to Johnny Carson, from Thomas Nast to Garry Trudeau — find Congress an inexhaustible source of raw material. Running down Congress, it seems, is a leading national pastime.

If the American states are political laboratories, then Nebraska has performed its share of experiments, the most impressive, as the following bibliography indicates, being the unicameral, nonpartisan legislature. There are other notable features, also worthy of comparative study. For example, the state is just now ending a sixteen-year trial of setting state sales and income tax rates by members of the executive branch rather than by the legislature. The ways in which Nebraskans resolve their grievances with state administrators, manage their water resources, impeach their public officials, and provide their electrical power are also out of the ordinary.

Nebraskans can be unpredictable and the political life of the state continues to bewilder the careful observer. Superficially, it might appear that the turmoil of the early years, from the battles over statehood through the Populist movement, has reached a condition of placidity approaching dullness.

Within the last ten years only the most bold and innovative American community colleges have ventured to make an association between on-campus education and international education. Wasn't the latter better left to senior institutions which were equipped to handle highly technical, sophisticated, elitist manpower needs? Most all government grants and contracting involving American higher education and U.S. or foreign governments flowed to and through senior universities. For the most part this pattern remains the same today.

But a viable argument has persistently been raised over the last ten years for increasing involvement of community-based junior colleges in international affairs. Raymond E. Schultz and others, documenting the maturation process of community colleges, have noted the urgent need for community college-type institutions abroad to train middle-manpower work forces and provide for greater human capital development through non-traditional higher education.