Middle Schoolers Excavate Their Own Tell

When I went on my first archaeological dig, with the Madaba Plains Project in Jordan during the summer of 1989, I could never have guessed the impact it and future digs would have on my eventual career as a teacher. My fascination and experience with archaeology has greatly inspired my teaching. For four years I taught social studies to seventh- and eighth-graders and now teach art for grades K through eight at John L. Coble Elementary, a small, private Christian school in Calhoun, Georgia.
During the summer of 1999 my fellow teachers and I collaborated on integrating the subject of ancient Mesopotamia into the seventh- and eighth-grade curriculum. In the weeks before school started I worked with our principal and our science teacher to build a thematic unit that would encompass math, history, geography, science, reading, language arts, fine arts and technology. We wanted the students to learn in as many ways as possible. For math, students learned about cuneiform numbers and math symbols. They also researched the ancient monetary system and analyzed the impact writing had on it. Reading lessons incorporated Mesopotamian stories and myths, such as the legend of Gilgamesh. Language arts class focused on dig vocabulary, the invention of writing and the system of laws used in Mesopotamia. For science class the kids learned how different environments affect the rate of decay of perishable items. Fine arts included the study of ancient architecture and the use of geometric and stylized forms.
We received permission to backhoe a portion of the school yard so we could have a full-scale “dig.” We gleefully gouged a huge pit about eight meters (26 feet) square and a meter (3.3 feet) deep. In this cavity we layered brick walls and formed a small “kitchen” area on one side complete with plaster floor and brick “tabun” (oven). On the other side we built a small cult chamber that contained a slab shrine. I placed some ceramic doll legs on the shrine symbolizing the remains of a fertility goddess. Beyond the outer wall we put in a threshing floor and a plaster skeleton we had acquired from a nearby hospital. For added drama I stuck an aluminum sword in the skeleton’s side and scattered coins all around.
Once our little residential area was laid out we filled in the hole with dirt and with lots of pottery that the science teacher and I had had a great time smashing before burial. We let the dig area settle for the first few weeks of school while the students learned dig procedure, vocabulary, preservation techniques and how to fill out locus sheets. “I never saw Indiana Jones fill out locus sheets!” complained a bewildered seventh-grader.
After a few weeks of total immersion in Mesopotamian culture, the kids were chomping at the bit to get out into the “field.” Donning donated scrubs over their uniforms, the kids were divided into teams and assigned a square. “Tell Coble” was now in full swing. To prevent too much work from falling to just a few students, I assigned two square supervisors for each square and rotated positions every week. I found that my most troublesome kids became my best diggers, and after a few weeks I assigned some of them as square supervisors, pairing them with helpers. Each student had a job to do. Along with the supervisors and diggers, there were photographers, artists and sifters. For two hours a day they dug, drew, photographed, sifted, argued, analyzed—and learned that being a square supervisor involves lots of paperwork. Also, “getting to tell other people what to do and then realizing that’s not so fun because everyone complains about you,” as one eighth-grader said.
By far the biggest hit was the skeleton; our youth pastor was severely reprimanded by the kids when he leaped into the square and inadvertently squashed the head. Only two of the squares
contained the skeleton, so I had to ensure that the other squares contained the tablets, tabun and other cool stuff, so no student would feel left out of the excitement. Even though the kids knew this was a simulation, I was really surprised to see their animated reactions when they “discovered” something. This enthusiasm reminded me of the first time I had found something on a dig. Pride in the work increased when our “dig” received front-page coverage in the local newspaper. Several students also assigned themselves the role of tour guide for visiting parents, friends and other students, including those from a nearby high school.After four weeks we hit “bedrock” and closed down the squares to begin the post-dig activities, including writing final reports and preparing a museum display for the school hallway. One student noted that “if people didn’t do their jobs during the dig, it was basically impossible for people to do their jobs during the post-dig.” The kids learned a lot about cooperation and how important it is to work as a team. They also learned about proper scientific procedure. “I learned that you can’t pit in your square because if you do, dirt from one locus can get into another and contaminate it,” wrote an eighth-grader.
Any teacher will tell you that to get a young adolescent excited about the past is indeed a challenge. A reaction from one of the students sums up the benefits of this type of learning. “I learned more than I ever would have about Mesopotamia if I were to just sit down at my desk and read about it from a book.”
Funds Available for Teachers
A six-week program for teachers on integrating the insights of archaeology into middle and high school programs will be offered June 19–July 31 at the Tall al-‘Umayri dig in Jordan. The National Endowment for the Humanities has 25 $3,700 stipends available for teachers interested in the program. The deadline for applications is March 1. Teachers will participate in the excavation and focus on translating their experience into updated curricula in history, social studies, geography, math, environmental sciences and civics. Contact Gloria London at galondon@earthlink.net.
Siloam Inscription May Return to Jerusalem—Temporarily

BAR’s long-time dream that the famous Siloam Inscription be displayed in Jerusalem may be about to come true.a It may go on view at the Israel Museum in March as part of a temporary exhibit of items from Turkey.
The late-eighth-century B.C. inscription, carved into the wall of Hezekiah’s Tunnel, which was designed to bring water into Jerusalem during the Assyrian siege under Sennacherib, records the building of the tunnel by two teams of diggers working from each end. It was discovered in 1880 by boys swimming in the Siloam channel, but was later cut out of the wall by vandals and ultimately recovered and sent to the Ottoman ruler in Constantinople (now Istanbul).
As early as 1993, BAR urged diplomats at the Turkish Embassy in Washington to “show their good will by lending the inscription for a short time to the Israel Museum.”b Their answer was no. Since then relations between the two countries have improved significantly. Last fall a group of Turkish cultural officials visited Israel and announced that there was no problem in principle in bringing the inscription to Jerusalem. The inscription would be part of an exhibit to be mounted by the Israel Museum on Anatolian culture. In return, Israel would lend Turkey a collection of Islamic jewelry. The Turkish officials also said that they hoped to assist Israel in conserving buildings from the Ottoman period.
A Diplomat Among Scholars

Menahem Mansoor, a professor of Hebrew and Semitic Studies for 45 years at the University of Wisconsin, died October 21, 2001, in Madison, Wisconsin, after a brief illness. He was 90. Mansoor was a contributor to BAR and a friend and an encourager of its editor, Hershel Shanks.
Born a British citizen to Jewish parents in Port Said, Egypt, Mansoor attended both Catholic and Hebrew schools, experiences that later contributed to his sustained interest in spreading an ecumenical spirit among all people. He earned a B.A. (with honors) at Kings College. He had intended to become an engineer; however, he was drawn instead to Semitic languages. James Starkey’s recent discovery of the Lachish Letters contributed to Mansoor’s change of direction. One of his courses was taught by an aspiring young archaeologist named Kathleen Kenyon, who would later excavate Jericho. From London, Mansoor moved to Trinity College, Dublin, where in 1944 he earned a Ph.D. in Biblical studies and Semitic languages. A stellar student, he was awarded the institution’s gold medal.
Following graduation, with World War II still raging, Mansoor joined the British Ministry of Information on the Middle East. Later, he served with the British Foreign Service, a turn of events that brought him back to Palestine as the senior education officer and chief interpreter with the British Embassy in Tel Aviv. With the close of the British Mandate and the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, he was appointed assistant press attaché and chief interpreter of Israeli affairs to the British Embassy in Tel Aviv. There he met his wife, Claire, an athlete who was in Israel to compete on behalf of Britain in international javelin and discus events.
This was also the period when the Dead Sea Scrolls were coming to light, and that discovery was destined to bring the Mansoors to the United States. In 1953, Mansoor received a Fulbright Fellowship to do research at Johns Hopkins University. In 1955 Mansoor was named chairman of the newly established department of Hebrew and Semitic studies at the University of Wisconsin in Madison.
Although Mansoor had turned his back on a career in British diplomacy, he never forgot the value of what he had learned; he remained until his death a consummate diplomat. A man of extraordinary energy and creative vision, he established his reputation as a scholar in the area of his first love, Hebrew and Biblical studies. With the unprecedented public interest in the Dead Sea Scrolls, he became a major interpreter of the discoveries, not only to college students but to the entire region, via a series of public lectures over public radio. Not content simply to teach students who happened to come to the campus, he developed the first correspondence courses in Hebrew, Aramaic, Arabic and Jewish cultural history, reaching students across the nation. (One student, in prison as a conscientious objector, later completed work on an undergraduate degree on campus and went on to earn a Ph.D. from Yale University.)
Mansoor’s many publications included 14 books, 15 textbooks and 50 articles. The Board of Regents named him Joseph L. Baron Professor in 1974. Edgewood College and Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion awarded Mansoor honorary doctorates.
Mansoor founded the Madison Biblical Archaeological Society in 1967. It still flourishes and continues his tradition of bringing international scholars and archaeologists to lecture in the university and the city. Beginning in 1959, he conducted 26 Study Tours of the Lands of the Bible, with more than 800 participants in all. They were known as “Mansoor’s Pilgrims.” Travel with Mansoor became a transforming experience. Academic study with Mansoor was both challenging and rewarding, as I can attest. Across the nation and abroad, men and women who earned advanced degrees under Menahem Mansoor are engaged in research, teaching and public service.
Menahem Mansoor leaves behind a host of friends. His legacy of scholarship will continue to enrich those who love learning, particularly Biblical studies and archaeology.

A. Boat prow
B. Knee guard
C. Ceremonial shot glass
D. Drum
What It Is, Is …
B. Knee guard
This ceramic object is an epinetron, a cut-away vase used by women in ancient Greece to protect their knees and thighs when carding wool. Some were elaborately decorated. This example, found in the town of Eretria on the Aegean island of Evia, is dated to ca. 425 B.C. The paintings along the sides depict the bridal preparations of Harmonia (personification of harmony) who has been betrothed to the hero Cadmus. Her mother Aphrodite is shown presenting her with a necklace created by the god Hephaestus, and she is attended by nymphs such as Eros (love) and Himeros (desire). In one scene, Harmonia gazes at Kore (maidenhood) and Hebe (youth), two qualities she is about to give up.
MLA Citation
Footnotes
See Avraham Negev, “Understanding the Nabateans,” BAR 14:06.
See Robert S. MacLennan, “In Search of the Jewish Diaspora,” BAR 22:02.