Instructor Leaves No Stone Unturned in Making Oregon State Geology Class a Hit

Once you have been shot from a cannon and tap-danced atop a piano--all in the name of education--there is not much left for an encore.

Unless, of course, you pop out of the screen during a showing of “Alien.”

Julius Dasch is forever searching for new ways to generate interest in “Rocks and Stars,” the most popular elective course ever offered at Oregon State University here. A professor of geology, Dasch has become a master at mixing science and showmanship.

How many other geology professors would allow themselves to be shot from a cannon in a parody of the “big bang” theory? Create a class syllabus with coupons from a local pizza parlor? Sponsor a rock concert to raise money for a guest speaker?

“We haven’t had any live births during class--yet,” Dasch said. “We did have a guy pass out once, though.”

Attempt to Draw Students

“Rocks and Stars” began in 1981 as an attempt to draw more students into geology. In designing the class, Dasch combined his profession, geology, with his love of outer space. He poured a lot of energy and a little bit of money into promotion.

His colorful advertisements drew 274 students the first term. Word of the lively guest lectures and interesting topics spread. The second year 649 students enrolled in the spring term class.

The response caught everyone by surprise. The class had to be moved into Orgeon State’s largest teaching auditorium. While waiting for stragglers that first day, Dasch played music from “Cosmos” and lit up the overhead screen with space art.

“It really caught on,” he said. “And then somewhere in there, I guess I went bananas.”

Rock music replaced the ubiquitous class-ending buzzers. Students contributed music and ideas for new topics. To begin year three, Dasch staged the skit in which he was “blown” out of a cannon. The students went wild over the idea of a skit. A new tradition was born.

1,000 Sign Up for Class

The class has been a sellout ever since. This spring, though, the effervescent Dasch was worried. “Rocks and Stars” hadn’t been offered for two years while Dasch was on leave working at the Johnson Space Center in Houston. Many underclassmen at OSU had never heard of it.

But more than 1,000 students signed up, roughly one out of every 15 students at Oregon State University.

His success with the class has impressed National Aeronautics and Space Administration officials, who may have discovered a new way to reach future voters.

As enrollment for the course grew over the years, NASA took on an annual sponsorship of two speakers, plus expenses for an engineer to spend a week in Corvallis, plus half the fee for a visitor from the Johnson Space Center. Dasch’s on-campus maneuvering has drawn financial support to attract other prominent speakers.

This spring, for example, “Rocks and Stars” speakers range from Harrison (Jack) Schmitt, an Apollo 17 astronaut and geologist, to Peggy Lathlaen, finalist for the teacher-in-space program, to William (Mitch) Mitchell, a Houston realtor and president of Lady Base One, a proposed lunar colony.

Basch is concerned about critics who claim that science takes a back seat to show business in his class. He prefers to think of the approach, not the content, as light.

‘Lot of Learning Goes on’

“I probably worry about credibility more than anyone,” Dasch said. “It’s a legitimate question. I suppose there shouldn’t be a lot of courses like this one, but there is room for one. A lot of learning goes on here. Something about holding a meteorite or a lunar rock makes them forget my name. The hype is called ‘getting their attention.’ ”

The critics are quickly forgotten in the heat of battle--like the day Dasch tap-danced on top of a piano. A film on the San Francisco earthquake wasn’t delivered on time, so a scrambling Dasch found an ancient, and silent, film on the disaster that was “really quite good.”

“I decided to put on a Scott Joplin record in the style of the old silent movies, but then had a brainstorm and brought out a piano from backstage,” Dasch explained somewhat sheepishly. “A student held a flashlight, and I pretended to play the piano while the Joplin music was playing. One thing led to another, and pretty soon I was tap-dancing on top of the piano.”