Not as a debutante or a gay man. Nor as Beyonce in Tokyo!
(Although I would appreciate it if y'all'd be a little more into the call and response thing than the apparently mostly-non-Japanese people in her audience that night.) So if you had to put a label on it, I guess I'd say I'm coming out as a campus governance leader. No, not as step x in some kind of rehab program (for "hearing the sound of your own voice" addiction? to make a public apology to those I've hurt?). How and to what end? Well, read on.
I don't need to tell my handful of regular readers that first as Vice-Chair of the SUNY Fredonia University Senate last academic year and then as Chair this one, I've lost the time, inclination, and motivation to do much academic blogging here at Citizen of Somewhere Else. It's been as obvious as the numbers in my archives to the right. Frankly, communicating with my fellow officers of the Senate, with administrative leaders, with leaders of the local union chapter, and with everyone else on my campus, not to mention fellow campus governance leaders and others in the state-wide University Faculty Senate, has taken up so much of my thought, time, and effort over the past academic year and a half tht I haven't been able to stay awake enough hours in the day to cram in some academic blogging at the end of it. Well, my term runs out June 30th, I've got a pretty good handle on the job by now, and to accomplish some of my remaining goals, I'm going to need to use the bully pulpit more on my campus and take to teh intertubes here at CitizenSE to (hopefully) reach wider audiences.
And that's where you come in. I need you to spread the word: I'll be talking here about various issues that we've been wrestling with at Fredonia and in SUNY since I've been on my campus's Senate Executive Committee. What kinds of issues? I don't want to limit myself in advance, because the biggest thing I've learned is how to roll with surprises, but certainly among them will be the value of effective governance, conflicting theories of governance and what's at stake in them, the meaning(s) of consultation, the financing of public higher education.... The list goes on and the actual blogging will be a lot more interesting than that list makes it sound.
While blogging, I'm not going to talk personalities or play trivial academic politics. And while I'll be commenting on the news here at CitizenSE, one of my goals will be more ambitious: I'm going to be trying to make some news via CitizenSE. First on the agenda is the coming NYS budget apocalypse and political meltdown, Governor Paterson's Public Higher Education Empowerment and Innovation Act, the battle over it between the Chancellor of the State University of NY Nancy Zimpher and the President of United University Professions Phil Smith, their courtship of statewide and campus Senates in SUNY, and What This All Means and What's At Stake In It.
So get your #2 pencils out, put on your thinking caps, and getttttt rea-dy to commmmmennnnnnnnnntttttttttttttt!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Hesse, Allende, Haiti: Student Reflections on Natural Disaster and Narrative
I asked my students in this semester's ENGL 209 course, Powers of Narrative, to write a response essay featuring their reflections on the following questions:
Here are some of their writings.
***
Student 1: Distance Can Divide Us
The earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12th brought the Haitian people the greatest reason for sorrow that I will never know. Unimaginable hardships and losses have flooded the lives of the victims of this natural disaster. I cannot know the pain these people are feeling and I am at a loss for any way I could contribute to ease their suffering. They are hundreds of miles away, a distance that leaves me feeling helpless, and at times makes the event seem almost fictitious, as if it happened eons ago on a planet on the opposite edge of the universe. I share these feelings with the author of “And of Clay We Are Created”, and the protagonist in “Strange News From Another Planet”.
Isabel Allende, the writer and narrator of the story “And of Clay We Are Created” watches the aftermath of a disaster through media coverage, the same way I have witnessed the tragedies and chaos amongst the rubble of Port-Au-Prince. Much like myself, she has moments of overwhelming sympathy, and moments where the disaster seemed very distant. She describes this range of emotions as she observes her friend, who is reporting at the site of a deadly volcano eruption. Allende writes, “At times I would be overcome with compassion and burst out crying; at other times, I was so drained I felt as if I were staring through a telescope at the light of a star dead for a million years.” These words capture the back and forth between empathy and detachment which I believe many people experience while following reports on the results of a disaster.
A similar sense of detachment is expressed by the boy in “Strange News From Another Planet”, written by Herman Hesse. In the midst of his own town’s disaster, the boy reflects on the old legends he was told as a child. The legends told of great evils, far worse than anything the boy or his people had ever experienced in their time. He recalls feelings of horror and fear when he heard about all the terrible things that used to take place in the world. However, he also remembers having a “pleasant feeling of comfort”, because all of those sorrows and turmoil were “infinitely far away from him”. He never worried that he would witness terrible things because trouble always seemed very distant from his life.
Ultimately, it is normal for people to feel removed from another group’s tragedy. Distance can make it hard to feel sympathy for people whom you do not know and will never meet. The most important contribution that can be made to Haiti is spreading the sentiment that distance cannot overcome our sense of empathy for what has happened there.
***
Student 2
Disasters have a deep emotional impact that follows the initial physical damage seen in the soulless bodies of the departed and the empty ruins in which men once stood. Grief, fear, and helplessness can all envelope the consciousness of those left behind, especially to those who have lost everything they once took for granted. Others though may see things in a different perspective, possibly have the optimism to notice the beauty in the cycle of life and death. This was the difference in my reaction between the two short stories, “And of Clay Are We Created” by Isabel Allende and “Strange News from Another Planet” by Hermann Hesse. My reaction to these written examples of disaster also mirror my reaction to the devastation caused by a 7.0 earthquake that shook the Haitian landscape on January 12, 2010.
Allende’s short story portrayed a newscaster whose responsibility was to report on the devastation caused by a natural disaster that left many dead and one little girl trapped chest-deep in a pit of mud and debris. This little girl would become the newscaster’s focus, fighting for her life as if it were his own, and in the process fighting his own demons. Through reading this struggle I felt a deep fear of my own mortality and wondered if I was like the girl; helpless to control my own fate. This was also like some of the questions I asked following the devastation in Haiti. It’s estimated 170,000 souls were lost in the quake, and I could not help ask but why the Haitians. They themselves have seen much grief in their lives between their poverty and their unstable homeland. Many innocent people died, all with their own faults but most of them undeserving of their fate. Disasters such as that show the fragility of life, a fact the newscaster must have seen as that powerless young girl succumbed to her own mortality and passed away.
Hesse’s short story on the other hand brought different emotions. In the story, a province in a world without hatred, murder or jealousy, would be shook by an earthquake which would kill numerous of their inhabitants. The people of this planet do not fear death but embrace it, seeing the beauty in the cycle of life and death, only asking that their dead be adorned with flowers to they may be reborn into another existence. It is the task of one young man to request enough flowers for this mass burial from his king, but this journey would take him to another planet filled with the evils that his planet is without. This journey is like that of our own where we go through life with the faint idea of these evil but will never know them until we encounter them ourselves. It is not to say we are not so ignorant as to believe hatred, murder and jealousy do not occur but rather we believe that is not what makes up our lives. We all have the innate hope for the miracle of a paradise that this young man lives in. This was seen in the short story when the other-worldly king spoke to the young man of his own hopes that one day his planet will see this peace. When I read this I had a great yearning for this existence also, I want a world where war doesn’t occur and death is not to be feared but rather is celebrated for its role in life since without death life would have no meaning. The Haitian disaster was exactly that, a disaster, but it also showed in many ways the ability for men to put aside war and greed and show the inner good we all possess. Great humanitarian efforts are being launched by nations and people who all want to help their fellow human being. For every man, woman and child who have passed there have been numerous more acts of random kindness that preserve those left behind. I feel as though disasters such as these bring together people who would otherwise fight about their politics and beliefs but above all naturally have the unexplainable need to help those that need it the most. It was the fate of the unlucky Haitians who were caught in this quake to die, a process that life allows.
Those who witness these disasters are reminded of their own mortality and also may be given the inexplicable need to save those who need it. In the face of great catastrophe men will show their true characters and these events have shown that we are not necessarily evil people; we only need to understand the gravity of our existence and the futility of hatred, murder and jealousy. None of those things will save us from death, nothing will save us from death, we can only improve our lives by ridding ourselves from what we see as “human nature.” The nature of man is not to do evil, it is to seek happiness, to help those who are in need, a path which will bring happiness more than hatred, murder or jealousy will ever bring.
***
Student 3
Natural disasters, like recently with Haiti, have happened within the contexts and worlds of literature and stories throughout time. In both the short stories titled "And of Clay Are We Created" and "Strange News from Another Planet" as a reader there were new conclusions to draw about what society can learn from natural disasters. Furthermore, the stories helped to draw some more insightful conclusions about the disaster of Haiti that I witnessed on the news, twitter accounts, etc. since the natural disaster occurred on January 12, 2010.
While reading these stories I did envision along with the description in the stories the pictures of Haiti that were seen on the newsfeeds, twitter accounts, online, etc. However, the stories helped me to better understand some key concepts on how to get over the grief I saw with Haiti. When just seeing the news footage of a natural disaster, a person only feels grief. However, reading a short story or a narrative form about the event can help a person learn a lesson, a way to become stronger from a disastrous event. When watching Haiti news footage, I felt overwhelmed and didn’t know how to learn from the disaster, or what there was to learn from it. Reading these short stories, like the messenger’s wisdom about the King or the bravery and acceptance that was seen in the victim Azucena when she faced death, are lessons about strength that can be extracted from disaster. These lessons can teach people to become stronger people after reading.
Even though these stories are fictional, I now look back on the newsfeed and see the faces and think about the lives they had that just shattered when the disaster struck in Haiti, and how they didn’t give up even after their houses were destroyed, their family members hurt or killed, and how their country became uncertain and stricken of resources. I also learned that being vulnerable sometimes as sad and scary as those moments are, is the best way to become strong. In the story "And of Clay Are We Created" there is a important line that reads, “I knew somehow that during the night his defenses had crumbled and he had given in to grief: finally he was vulnerable.” This quote seems so important because the character that was stuck in the rubble and mud, Azucena, was a character of strength not because she acted invincible or possessed superhero qualities and miraculously survived, but because she accepted her life, gave in to her grief and let go. The photographer in the story after sitting with her for her last night truly changes his mindset after her story. He is no longer interested in becoming a person on the sidelines, just capturing the moments. This is an important life lesson for anyone; to become a person that values life, even in times of disaster, stress or loss. This idea seems to be further explained in the other short story, when the King who has seen plenty of war and destruction tells the messenger
The King in this excerpt can help to emphasize that people can gain wisdom on how important and valuable life is when they are faced and confront death and loss every day, like the soldiers in war on the “alternate planet.”
The most important point that was further drawn to my attention as a reader after reading the short stories while was that like the bird told the messenger, there can always be much worse. It seems important to remember this when students stress out about trivial, smaller, matters like a test or a breakup. Instead, people should try to remember what truly is important: living life purposefully even in the darkest moments.
***
Student 4: Worlds Full of Tragedy
The two short stories, "And of Clay Are We Created," by Isabel Allende, and "Strange News From Another Planet," by Hermann Hesse, depict the effects of natural disasters in very distinctive ways. Not so different from these effects are the ones recently shown of the earthquake that destroyed Haiti. By each portraying the responses to devastating natural disasters as they did, Allende and Hesse, have influenced my thoughts on how people, like the ones in Haiti, react after their whole worlds have crumbled.
In Allende’s story, "And of Clay Are We Created," the idea of natural disaster is portrayed in a very dark and touching way. Allende does this, by the way in which she describes her characters. From the first sentences, “They discovered the girl’s head protruding from the mudpit, eyes wide open, calling soundlessly. She had a first communion name, Azucena Lily” (30). Allende introduces the readers’ into a world of horror and disbelief. The picture of a young girl’s head sticking straight up from the ground while her body is trapped below her, immediately brought darkness into the mood of the story. In addition, the statement of the girl’s communion name represents the innocence of the victims involved in this tragedy. By bringing this darkness and innocence into the story so early on, Allende provokes a feeling of sadness and sympathy towards the young girl.
Along with this, Allende portrays the harshness of death. To do this she states, “In that vast cemetery where the odor of death was already attracting vultures from far away, and where the weeping of orphans and wails of the injured filled the air, the little girl obstinately clinging to life became the symbol of the tragedy” (30-31). Allende affected my feelings towards disaster by getting my sympathy. She allowed me to make connections with the victims and develop attachments to both the young girl and the reporter, and trigger feelings of deep compassion for these people.
Different from Allende’s heart wrenching account of the aftermath of disaster, is Hermann Hesse’s "Strange News From Another Planet." Though he also describes the affects of a natural disaster, he does so in lighter way. Hesse introduces us to a place, where even though death is a bad thing, it can also be celebrated. Hesse’s affect on myself was less personal and moving. Though he did trigger feelings of sadness and compassion for the victims of the tragedy, he did so in a much happier way. He left me with a feeling of thankfulness for what I have and the idea that things could be much worse.
Although these two stories are not true accounts of disasters that really took place, they have affected me in a similar way to the news of the earthquake that took place in Haiti earlier this year. After a horrible disaster, the people of Haiti have been left with nothing. No clean water, food, shelter or bedding. In a lot of cases, many children were left without family members to take care of them and are newly orphans. Other than the physical injuries that people have acquired, many are left emotionally scarred after experiencing the loss of just about everything they worked and lived for.
The reaction that I had towards this news was similar to the ways in which Allende and Hesse’s stories influenced me. Similar to my reactions towards Allende’s "And of Clay Are We Created," I felt an immediate sense of sympathy and compassion towards the people of Haiti. I cannot imagine the pain they must be enduring after losing loved ones and still trying to live their lives one day after the next. I also felt sadness come over me after I saw the innocent people in the pictures, of the aftermath of Haiti. These same feelings of sadness were evoked after reading Allende’s story. I also feel that the reactions that I had towards Hesse’s story, were shared reactions towards Haiti. After hearing about all of the horrible things that these people have had happen to them all so suddenly, makes me feel a sense of gratefulness for what I have. I feel for these people, and at the same time I am appreciative that I still have my parents, and a shelter I can call my home.
After reading both short stories, and after being able to connect those reactions to ones towards the news of Haiti, I have a greater understanding and compassion for what the victims of Haiti are going through. It is important to recognize, that even though this disaster did not happen to us, it should and has affected us all. It may be easy to look the other way and pretend that it didn’t happen, but it did. And if we can only look harder and try to help the victims of this tragedy then we can grow stronger as individuals and as a human race.
***
Student 5: The Human Element of a Natural Disaster
A natural disaster provides an opportunity to unite humanity. It can strike anywhere, at anytime and to anyone. The earthquake which occurred on the island of Haiti and devastated the capital city of Port-au-Prince is not that characteristically different from any other natural disaster, except in one critical aspect: the social and governmental structure of Haiti is in shambles. Haiti, already a third world nation, finds itself at a need for administrative control and global aid at this critical hour. Isabel Allende’s “And of Clay Are We Created” and Hermann Hesse’s “Strange News from Another Planet” show in radically different ways the affects natural disasters have on communities. From both of these short stories, the reader can achieve a better understanding of the human element to natural disaster.
Allende’s story “And of Clay Are We Created” presents an almost mirror picture to the events occurring in Haiti. In it there is talk of media coverage, aid response, and volunteer efforts. While reading this story, the thing that affected me the most profoundly wasn’t the magnitude of the disaster described. Instead it was how the severity of the disaster is encompassed in the struggle of the little girl, Azucena. Allende states that journalist Rolf Carle “exhausted all the resources of his ingenuity to rescue her,” and in this I was able to see that his effort to save one person represents the world’s effort to rescue this community from tragedy (32). It was similar to watching correspondents from Haiti report on the efforts to rescue people from the rubble. However, in the case of Azucena, her eventual death represents the failure to provide timely aid. I was as angry when I read about the unnecessary death of Azucena, who could have been saved by the deliverance of a pump to drain the water from her muddy grave, as I was to read and hear about the death of those in Haiti that could have been saved if the modern world had acted with greater haste. When all of the debris and rubble is cleared in Haiti, there will surely be a rise in the death toll. Allende’s story also makes greater emotional ties with its audience, another similarity to my evolving response to the plight of Haiti. When the people portrayed on television become not just people in our news feed, but instead flesh and blood beings with needs and feelings like ourselves, is the only point in our mental process of tragedy where we can make a difference. My reaction to Azurena in “And of Clay Are We Created” was similar to the reaction I had when seeing the suffering of the people in Haiti: the Haitians are part of our human family and they need our aid.
Hesse’s story “Strange News from Another Planet” affected me differently when I first finished reading it. The story itself doesn’t seem as focused on the nature of the disaster, as it does on the nature of the response of those who were affected by it, particularly the boy who journeys to find flowers for his community’s burial rituals. I made fewer personal connects with the disaster in this story and the earthquake in Haiti. However, I can see how someone who was affected personally by the earthquake in Haiti could find similarities with their own feelings from this reading. The one idea that I did take away from Hesse’s writing was that no matter how bad natural disaster is it can never compare to the devastating effects of war. In war, humanity battles among one another; a natural disaster has the affect of bring humans from different cultures together to begin healing and rebuilding. At the end of the story, when flowers have been brought from all throughout the country to aid in burying the dead, the young man is left to contemplate what he saw on the foreign planet, where war devastated the land in a similar way natural disaster had ravaged his own. The young man states that “a shadow of sadness has remained within me, and a cool wind from that other planet continues to blow upon me, right into the midst of the happiness of my life” (145). In his distress, I can see similarities with the response that I had to how the people of Haiti were suffering. Although the effects of natural disaster can be devastating and cannot be viewed as positive, the response that it produces from the world community is something positive. People helping others are something that is seen in the continued relief of Haiti. However, in the case of war, relief is much slower to come and arrives in less quantity.
There are a few ideas that I would want Fredonia students to take away from this. The first is the importance of forming human bonds with those affected by disaster and do what is within their power to aid those in need. As we see in the Allende reading, and more so in the Haitian disaster, prompt responses to disaster are crucial to saving lives. Another point that I would highlight for student recognition would be that while there aren’t many positives to disaster, people coming to the aid of other can always be viewed as a triumph of humanity at work. This is portrayed well in the Hesse reading, as well as the evidence we can see in a comparison of the earthquake in Haiti versus what would be seen in war. Seeing the small bit of positive in something so seemingly negative is important.
Fictional and non-fictional depictions of natural disasters can shake the core of human society. However, they also provide an opportunity for the generosity and kindness of humanity to shine through. In the stories of Allende and Hesse, as well as the tragedy currently taking place in Haiti, we can see elements of fear, loss, love, perseverance and hope in the actions of ordinary people. These are qualities that every SUNY Fredonia student can sympathize with, which helps them gain a better since of understanding of the level of tragedy that can strike the human community.
***
How did Allende's and Hesse's very different portrayals of responses to a massive natural disaster affect you as you read them? How would you compare your reactions to these fictional accounts with your initial and evolving responses to the news coming out of Haiti since the massive earthquake of January 12th? What implications in your answers would you highlight for fellow Fredonia students?
Here are some of their writings.
***
Student 1: Distance Can Divide Us
The earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12th brought the Haitian people the greatest reason for sorrow that I will never know. Unimaginable hardships and losses have flooded the lives of the victims of this natural disaster. I cannot know the pain these people are feeling and I am at a loss for any way I could contribute to ease their suffering. They are hundreds of miles away, a distance that leaves me feeling helpless, and at times makes the event seem almost fictitious, as if it happened eons ago on a planet on the opposite edge of the universe. I share these feelings with the author of “And of Clay We Are Created”, and the protagonist in “Strange News From Another Planet”.
Isabel Allende, the writer and narrator of the story “And of Clay We Are Created” watches the aftermath of a disaster through media coverage, the same way I have witnessed the tragedies and chaos amongst the rubble of Port-Au-Prince. Much like myself, she has moments of overwhelming sympathy, and moments where the disaster seemed very distant. She describes this range of emotions as she observes her friend, who is reporting at the site of a deadly volcano eruption. Allende writes, “At times I would be overcome with compassion and burst out crying; at other times, I was so drained I felt as if I were staring through a telescope at the light of a star dead for a million years.” These words capture the back and forth between empathy and detachment which I believe many people experience while following reports on the results of a disaster.
A similar sense of detachment is expressed by the boy in “Strange News From Another Planet”, written by Herman Hesse. In the midst of his own town’s disaster, the boy reflects on the old legends he was told as a child. The legends told of great evils, far worse than anything the boy or his people had ever experienced in their time. He recalls feelings of horror and fear when he heard about all the terrible things that used to take place in the world. However, he also remembers having a “pleasant feeling of comfort”, because all of those sorrows and turmoil were “infinitely far away from him”. He never worried that he would witness terrible things because trouble always seemed very distant from his life.
Ultimately, it is normal for people to feel removed from another group’s tragedy. Distance can make it hard to feel sympathy for people whom you do not know and will never meet. The most important contribution that can be made to Haiti is spreading the sentiment that distance cannot overcome our sense of empathy for what has happened there.
***
Student 2
Disasters have a deep emotional impact that follows the initial physical damage seen in the soulless bodies of the departed and the empty ruins in which men once stood. Grief, fear, and helplessness can all envelope the consciousness of those left behind, especially to those who have lost everything they once took for granted. Others though may see things in a different perspective, possibly have the optimism to notice the beauty in the cycle of life and death. This was the difference in my reaction between the two short stories, “And of Clay Are We Created” by Isabel Allende and “Strange News from Another Planet” by Hermann Hesse. My reaction to these written examples of disaster also mirror my reaction to the devastation caused by a 7.0 earthquake that shook the Haitian landscape on January 12, 2010.
Allende’s short story portrayed a newscaster whose responsibility was to report on the devastation caused by a natural disaster that left many dead and one little girl trapped chest-deep in a pit of mud and debris. This little girl would become the newscaster’s focus, fighting for her life as if it were his own, and in the process fighting his own demons. Through reading this struggle I felt a deep fear of my own mortality and wondered if I was like the girl; helpless to control my own fate. This was also like some of the questions I asked following the devastation in Haiti. It’s estimated 170,000 souls were lost in the quake, and I could not help ask but why the Haitians. They themselves have seen much grief in their lives between their poverty and their unstable homeland. Many innocent people died, all with their own faults but most of them undeserving of their fate. Disasters such as that show the fragility of life, a fact the newscaster must have seen as that powerless young girl succumbed to her own mortality and passed away.
Hesse’s short story on the other hand brought different emotions. In the story, a province in a world without hatred, murder or jealousy, would be shook by an earthquake which would kill numerous of their inhabitants. The people of this planet do not fear death but embrace it, seeing the beauty in the cycle of life and death, only asking that their dead be adorned with flowers to they may be reborn into another existence. It is the task of one young man to request enough flowers for this mass burial from his king, but this journey would take him to another planet filled with the evils that his planet is without. This journey is like that of our own where we go through life with the faint idea of these evil but will never know them until we encounter them ourselves. It is not to say we are not so ignorant as to believe hatred, murder and jealousy do not occur but rather we believe that is not what makes up our lives. We all have the innate hope for the miracle of a paradise that this young man lives in. This was seen in the short story when the other-worldly king spoke to the young man of his own hopes that one day his planet will see this peace. When I read this I had a great yearning for this existence also, I want a world where war doesn’t occur and death is not to be feared but rather is celebrated for its role in life since without death life would have no meaning. The Haitian disaster was exactly that, a disaster, but it also showed in many ways the ability for men to put aside war and greed and show the inner good we all possess. Great humanitarian efforts are being launched by nations and people who all want to help their fellow human being. For every man, woman and child who have passed there have been numerous more acts of random kindness that preserve those left behind. I feel as though disasters such as these bring together people who would otherwise fight about their politics and beliefs but above all naturally have the unexplainable need to help those that need it the most. It was the fate of the unlucky Haitians who were caught in this quake to die, a process that life allows.
Those who witness these disasters are reminded of their own mortality and also may be given the inexplicable need to save those who need it. In the face of great catastrophe men will show their true characters and these events have shown that we are not necessarily evil people; we only need to understand the gravity of our existence and the futility of hatred, murder and jealousy. None of those things will save us from death, nothing will save us from death, we can only improve our lives by ridding ourselves from what we see as “human nature.” The nature of man is not to do evil, it is to seek happiness, to help those who are in need, a path which will bring happiness more than hatred, murder or jealousy will ever bring.
***
Student 3
Natural disasters, like recently with Haiti, have happened within the contexts and worlds of literature and stories throughout time. In both the short stories titled "And of Clay Are We Created" and "Strange News from Another Planet" as a reader there were new conclusions to draw about what society can learn from natural disasters. Furthermore, the stories helped to draw some more insightful conclusions about the disaster of Haiti that I witnessed on the news, twitter accounts, etc. since the natural disaster occurred on January 12, 2010.
While reading these stories I did envision along with the description in the stories the pictures of Haiti that were seen on the newsfeeds, twitter accounts, online, etc. However, the stories helped me to better understand some key concepts on how to get over the grief I saw with Haiti. When just seeing the news footage of a natural disaster, a person only feels grief. However, reading a short story or a narrative form about the event can help a person learn a lesson, a way to become stronger from a disastrous event. When watching Haiti news footage, I felt overwhelmed and didn’t know how to learn from the disaster, or what there was to learn from it. Reading these short stories, like the messenger’s wisdom about the King or the bravery and acceptance that was seen in the victim Azucena when she faced death, are lessons about strength that can be extracted from disaster. These lessons can teach people to become stronger people after reading.
Even though these stories are fictional, I now look back on the newsfeed and see the faces and think about the lives they had that just shattered when the disaster struck in Haiti, and how they didn’t give up even after their houses were destroyed, their family members hurt or killed, and how their country became uncertain and stricken of resources. I also learned that being vulnerable sometimes as sad and scary as those moments are, is the best way to become strong. In the story "And of Clay Are We Created" there is a important line that reads, “I knew somehow that during the night his defenses had crumbled and he had given in to grief: finally he was vulnerable.” This quote seems so important because the character that was stuck in the rubble and mud, Azucena, was a character of strength not because she acted invincible or possessed superhero qualities and miraculously survived, but because she accepted her life, gave in to her grief and let go. The photographer in the story after sitting with her for her last night truly changes his mindset after her story. He is no longer interested in becoming a person on the sidelines, just capturing the moments. This is an important life lesson for anyone; to become a person that values life, even in times of disaster, stress or loss. This idea seems to be further explained in the other short story, when the King who has seen plenty of war and destruction tells the messenger
People are indeed killed here…but we consider it the worst of crimes. Only in wars are people permitted to kill…still, you’d be mistaken if you believed that my people die easily. You just have to look into the faces of our dead, and you can see that they have difficulty dying. They die hard and unwillingly.
The King in this excerpt can help to emphasize that people can gain wisdom on how important and valuable life is when they are faced and confront death and loss every day, like the soldiers in war on the “alternate planet.”
The most important point that was further drawn to my attention as a reader after reading the short stories while was that like the bird told the messenger, there can always be much worse. It seems important to remember this when students stress out about trivial, smaller, matters like a test or a breakup. Instead, people should try to remember what truly is important: living life purposefully even in the darkest moments.
***
Student 4: Worlds Full of Tragedy
The two short stories, "And of Clay Are We Created," by Isabel Allende, and "Strange News From Another Planet," by Hermann Hesse, depict the effects of natural disasters in very distinctive ways. Not so different from these effects are the ones recently shown of the earthquake that destroyed Haiti. By each portraying the responses to devastating natural disasters as they did, Allende and Hesse, have influenced my thoughts on how people, like the ones in Haiti, react after their whole worlds have crumbled.
In Allende’s story, "And of Clay Are We Created," the idea of natural disaster is portrayed in a very dark and touching way. Allende does this, by the way in which she describes her characters. From the first sentences, “They discovered the girl’s head protruding from the mudpit, eyes wide open, calling soundlessly. She had a first communion name, Azucena Lily” (30). Allende introduces the readers’ into a world of horror and disbelief. The picture of a young girl’s head sticking straight up from the ground while her body is trapped below her, immediately brought darkness into the mood of the story. In addition, the statement of the girl’s communion name represents the innocence of the victims involved in this tragedy. By bringing this darkness and innocence into the story so early on, Allende provokes a feeling of sadness and sympathy towards the young girl.
Along with this, Allende portrays the harshness of death. To do this she states, “In that vast cemetery where the odor of death was already attracting vultures from far away, and where the weeping of orphans and wails of the injured filled the air, the little girl obstinately clinging to life became the symbol of the tragedy” (30-31). Allende affected my feelings towards disaster by getting my sympathy. She allowed me to make connections with the victims and develop attachments to both the young girl and the reporter, and trigger feelings of deep compassion for these people.
Different from Allende’s heart wrenching account of the aftermath of disaster, is Hermann Hesse’s "Strange News From Another Planet." Though he also describes the affects of a natural disaster, he does so in lighter way. Hesse introduces us to a place, where even though death is a bad thing, it can also be celebrated. Hesse’s affect on myself was less personal and moving. Though he did trigger feelings of sadness and compassion for the victims of the tragedy, he did so in a much happier way. He left me with a feeling of thankfulness for what I have and the idea that things could be much worse.
Although these two stories are not true accounts of disasters that really took place, they have affected me in a similar way to the news of the earthquake that took place in Haiti earlier this year. After a horrible disaster, the people of Haiti have been left with nothing. No clean water, food, shelter or bedding. In a lot of cases, many children were left without family members to take care of them and are newly orphans. Other than the physical injuries that people have acquired, many are left emotionally scarred after experiencing the loss of just about everything they worked and lived for.
The reaction that I had towards this news was similar to the ways in which Allende and Hesse’s stories influenced me. Similar to my reactions towards Allende’s "And of Clay Are We Created," I felt an immediate sense of sympathy and compassion towards the people of Haiti. I cannot imagine the pain they must be enduring after losing loved ones and still trying to live their lives one day after the next. I also felt sadness come over me after I saw the innocent people in the pictures, of the aftermath of Haiti. These same feelings of sadness were evoked after reading Allende’s story. I also feel that the reactions that I had towards Hesse’s story, were shared reactions towards Haiti. After hearing about all of the horrible things that these people have had happen to them all so suddenly, makes me feel a sense of gratefulness for what I have. I feel for these people, and at the same time I am appreciative that I still have my parents, and a shelter I can call my home.
After reading both short stories, and after being able to connect those reactions to ones towards the news of Haiti, I have a greater understanding and compassion for what the victims of Haiti are going through. It is important to recognize, that even though this disaster did not happen to us, it should and has affected us all. It may be easy to look the other way and pretend that it didn’t happen, but it did. And if we can only look harder and try to help the victims of this tragedy then we can grow stronger as individuals and as a human race.
***
Student 5: The Human Element of a Natural Disaster
A natural disaster provides an opportunity to unite humanity. It can strike anywhere, at anytime and to anyone. The earthquake which occurred on the island of Haiti and devastated the capital city of Port-au-Prince is not that characteristically different from any other natural disaster, except in one critical aspect: the social and governmental structure of Haiti is in shambles. Haiti, already a third world nation, finds itself at a need for administrative control and global aid at this critical hour. Isabel Allende’s “And of Clay Are We Created” and Hermann Hesse’s “Strange News from Another Planet” show in radically different ways the affects natural disasters have on communities. From both of these short stories, the reader can achieve a better understanding of the human element to natural disaster.
Allende’s story “And of Clay Are We Created” presents an almost mirror picture to the events occurring in Haiti. In it there is talk of media coverage, aid response, and volunteer efforts. While reading this story, the thing that affected me the most profoundly wasn’t the magnitude of the disaster described. Instead it was how the severity of the disaster is encompassed in the struggle of the little girl, Azucena. Allende states that journalist Rolf Carle “exhausted all the resources of his ingenuity to rescue her,” and in this I was able to see that his effort to save one person represents the world’s effort to rescue this community from tragedy (32). It was similar to watching correspondents from Haiti report on the efforts to rescue people from the rubble. However, in the case of Azucena, her eventual death represents the failure to provide timely aid. I was as angry when I read about the unnecessary death of Azucena, who could have been saved by the deliverance of a pump to drain the water from her muddy grave, as I was to read and hear about the death of those in Haiti that could have been saved if the modern world had acted with greater haste. When all of the debris and rubble is cleared in Haiti, there will surely be a rise in the death toll. Allende’s story also makes greater emotional ties with its audience, another similarity to my evolving response to the plight of Haiti. When the people portrayed on television become not just people in our news feed, but instead flesh and blood beings with needs and feelings like ourselves, is the only point in our mental process of tragedy where we can make a difference. My reaction to Azurena in “And of Clay Are We Created” was similar to the reaction I had when seeing the suffering of the people in Haiti: the Haitians are part of our human family and they need our aid.
Hesse’s story “Strange News from Another Planet” affected me differently when I first finished reading it. The story itself doesn’t seem as focused on the nature of the disaster, as it does on the nature of the response of those who were affected by it, particularly the boy who journeys to find flowers for his community’s burial rituals. I made fewer personal connects with the disaster in this story and the earthquake in Haiti. However, I can see how someone who was affected personally by the earthquake in Haiti could find similarities with their own feelings from this reading. The one idea that I did take away from Hesse’s writing was that no matter how bad natural disaster is it can never compare to the devastating effects of war. In war, humanity battles among one another; a natural disaster has the affect of bring humans from different cultures together to begin healing and rebuilding. At the end of the story, when flowers have been brought from all throughout the country to aid in burying the dead, the young man is left to contemplate what he saw on the foreign planet, where war devastated the land in a similar way natural disaster had ravaged his own. The young man states that “a shadow of sadness has remained within me, and a cool wind from that other planet continues to blow upon me, right into the midst of the happiness of my life” (145). In his distress, I can see similarities with the response that I had to how the people of Haiti were suffering. Although the effects of natural disaster can be devastating and cannot be viewed as positive, the response that it produces from the world community is something positive. People helping others are something that is seen in the continued relief of Haiti. However, in the case of war, relief is much slower to come and arrives in less quantity.
There are a few ideas that I would want Fredonia students to take away from this. The first is the importance of forming human bonds with those affected by disaster and do what is within their power to aid those in need. As we see in the Allende reading, and more so in the Haitian disaster, prompt responses to disaster are crucial to saving lives. Another point that I would highlight for student recognition would be that while there aren’t many positives to disaster, people coming to the aid of other can always be viewed as a triumph of humanity at work. This is portrayed well in the Hesse reading, as well as the evidence we can see in a comparison of the earthquake in Haiti versus what would be seen in war. Seeing the small bit of positive in something so seemingly negative is important.
Fictional and non-fictional depictions of natural disasters can shake the core of human society. However, they also provide an opportunity for the generosity and kindness of humanity to shine through. In the stories of Allende and Hesse, as well as the tragedy currently taking place in Haiti, we can see elements of fear, loss, love, perseverance and hope in the actions of ordinary people. These are qualities that every SUNY Fredonia student can sympathize with, which helps them gain a better since of understanding of the level of tragedy that can strike the human community.
***
Friday, January 15, 2010
How Best to Help Haiti?
Just some quick links to smart suggestions on how to best help Haiti, to a Tracy Kidder op ed and a Theory Teacher blog post.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Thinking Black Intellectuals: February 5-6, 2010, University of Rochester
If you're anywhere near western NY the first weekend of February, check out the Thinking Black Intellectuals conference at the University of Rochester. Here's the schedule of events. And here's a brief description of the conference from Jeffrey Tucker, who'll be delivering a version of the talk he gave last fall at Fredonia:
Be there or be square!
UR’s Frederick Douglass Institute for African & African-American Studies (FDI) will hold a conference entitled "Thinking Black Intellectuals" featuring some of today’s most important scholars in Africana Studies. The conference is free and open to the public; it is co-sponsored by UR’s Humanities Project and South Atlantic Quarterly (Duke Univ.), which is publishing a special issue on which the conference presentations will be based.
Be there or be square!
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Start Spreading the News: Jeffrey Tucker on Race, Science Fiction, and Delany @Fredonia
I'm pleased to announce that the planet's foremost Samuel Delany authority will be speaking on my campus tomorrow afternoon. Jeffrey Tucker of the University of Rochester's English department has something new to say on the subjects of his fantastic 2004 study A Sense of Wonder: Samuel R. Delany, Race, Identity, and Difference. In "The Necessity of Models, of Alternatives: Samuel Delany's Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand," Tucker starts with two questions: 1) "How does one define science fiction (SF)?" and 2) "What difference does race makes to SF?" and ends by arguing that "Stars in My Pocket can be shown to be participating in the tradition of African-American literature and demonstrating the difference that race--both Delany’s own identity and the social phenomenon that has structured so much of the American experience--makes to the author’s conception of SF and its potential as a tool for critical analysis." To find out how he gets from point A to point B, come on over to room S-121 of the Williams Center Thursday, 10/8/09, at 4:30! This is a preview of an essay that will appear in a special issue of SAQ entitled "Thinking Black Intellectuals" that he's co-editing with Grant Farred, so be there or be square!
[Cross-posted at sf@SF.]
[Update 1 (4:30 pm): Here's official announcement from SUNY Fredonia.]
[Cross-posted at sf@SF.]
[Update 1 (4:30 pm): Here's official announcement from SUNY Fredonia.]
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Look for My Students' Writing at American Identities and sf@SF
I've got students in both my undergraduate classes this semester signing up as co-authors on the sf@SF blog, which is now on "science fiction--and more--at SUNY Fredonia." I've just posted a brief observation on the odd choice of commercials that run during Onegai My Melody on veoh.com and Ouran High School Host Club on youtube.com, just to kick things off. We should have several posts per week from a variety of student writers up there this semester. I'm also going to start posting identification projects from last semester's American Identities course over on the blog of that name. Check both out when you get a chance!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Follow Me on Twitter!
Yeah, I'm going to try microblogging as a means of communicating with various constituencies from now till 30 June 2010, when I step down as chair of the SUNY Fredonia University Senate. While CitizenSE won't become an all governance all the time blog, it may get updated slightly more regularly than it was last academic year. We'll see!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Academic Freedom Watch
Michael Berube indirectly explains why my tenure as chair of the University Senate this coming academic year will be very interesting. (I start July 1st--wish me luck!) But even if you haven't been involved in governance at your public university, he explains why you should be.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Random Responses to Wai Chee Dimock's Recent Work
Wai Chee Dimock is visiting Fredonia this week as the keynote speaker for "Remapping World Literature," the 4th annual Mary Louise White Symposium organized by the English department. I'll be on a roundtable with her and several of my colleagues in a few minutes, as we examine together the implications of her work for teaching strategies, course design, curriculum, professional development, and strategic planning in English at Fredonia. Although I'll be improvising my comments, I thought I'd better take a shot at organizing them, however haphazardly, here first. But first some ideas that aren't going to be making it into my talk. Better to get them out here so I'm not tempted to use up my 5-7 minutes on them.
Free Association
For much of my first year in grad school, I was so overwhelmed by all that I was trying to take in that I could only think associatively. It was actually a pretty pleasant experience, if exasperating, mostly because it was a shared one: all my friends in the entering class had the same condition. We'd get together and start making whatever random connections between literature, theory, music, video games, tv, film, and sports came to our minds. It was our way of making sense of what we were learning and living through, I guess. Group brainstorming, or something. Sometimes we'd even come up with good ideas, but that wasn't exactly the point.
Reading Dimock's Through Other Continents brought to mind that time in my life, but also reminded me how much had changed since then. I read it in airports and on airplanes on my way to the Reworking the University conference in Minneapolis--and I read it in one gulp, with the excitement and pleasure I associate with reading really good science fiction. And, indeed, I was reminded of science fiction on almost every page, whether it was Neal Stephenson's blend of Sumerian mythology and cyberpunk in Snow Crash, Kim Stanley Robinson's exploration of an alternate history in which Chinese and Islamic civilizations rose and fell in the centuries after the plague depopulated Europe in The Years of Rice and Salt, or efforts by Guy Gavriel Kay, Dan Simmons, and Samuel Delany, in their very different ways, to combine myth, literature and fantasy and/or science fiction. And more: I was reminded of Neil Gaiman's graphic novel series Sandman, Amitav Ghosh's mix of memoir and history In an Antique Land, and Theresa Hak Kyung Cha's unclassifiable Dictee.
I'm forgetting what other works I wanted to remind myself to let Dimock know about or find out if she knew about, mostly because I was borrowing a colleague's copy of her book and didn't write in it or take any notes on it. Instead, I was revelling in the feeling of witnessing ideas I'd been working on over the past decade precipitating in somebody else's solution--ideas I never would have come up with on my own, but which shared a family resemblance to those of the many writers I've been tracking whom I've been connecting to debates over globalization and literary studies. I hadn't experienced such an intellectual rush since I read Thomas Bender's A Nation Among Nations--a feeling of things falling into place, things I had figured out taking on a new significance or relating to new context, things I had never considered before taking on a new interest and urgency. So while both works inspired all kinds of free associations, they also helped me identify large-scale patterns I had been groping towards, sharpen points I wanted to make, and imagine new possibilities for connections between times and places we usually think of as disjunct.
Teaching/Curriculum
In my contribution to today's roundtable discussion, I'm going to be highlighting some of the unexpected ways the courses I'm teaching this semester connect with issues raised by Bender's and Dimock's work. Of course, I taught Bender in my American Identities course, but it was actually the juxtaposition of class discussions on Gish Jen's Mona in the Promised Land and Sherman Alexie's Reservation Blues that I'll be focusing on as a counterpoint to and way of looking differently at a key moment at the end of Samuel Delany's Atlantis: Model 1924 from my Harlem Renaissance course, which in turn will lead into a consideration of why I organized my Black Women Writers course the way I did and what it was like teaching it. My goal will be to raise the question of what we consider to be the ends of teaching world literature and make a case for a modest, minimalist starting point.
I'll use that starting point as my entry into a more programmatic proposal to reexamine the Fredonia English department curriculum, specifically the way we bridge our introductory-level world literature core (all of which is in Fredonia's general education program) with our required and elective upper-level courses, many of which are in national literatures.
But more on that later! Time to head out for the roundtable....
Free Association
For much of my first year in grad school, I was so overwhelmed by all that I was trying to take in that I could only think associatively. It was actually a pretty pleasant experience, if exasperating, mostly because it was a shared one: all my friends in the entering class had the same condition. We'd get together and start making whatever random connections between literature, theory, music, video games, tv, film, and sports came to our minds. It was our way of making sense of what we were learning and living through, I guess. Group brainstorming, or something. Sometimes we'd even come up with good ideas, but that wasn't exactly the point.
Reading Dimock's Through Other Continents brought to mind that time in my life, but also reminded me how much had changed since then. I read it in airports and on airplanes on my way to the Reworking the University conference in Minneapolis--and I read it in one gulp, with the excitement and pleasure I associate with reading really good science fiction. And, indeed, I was reminded of science fiction on almost every page, whether it was Neal Stephenson's blend of Sumerian mythology and cyberpunk in Snow Crash, Kim Stanley Robinson's exploration of an alternate history in which Chinese and Islamic civilizations rose and fell in the centuries after the plague depopulated Europe in The Years of Rice and Salt, or efforts by Guy Gavriel Kay, Dan Simmons, and Samuel Delany, in their very different ways, to combine myth, literature and fantasy and/or science fiction. And more: I was reminded of Neil Gaiman's graphic novel series Sandman, Amitav Ghosh's mix of memoir and history In an Antique Land, and Theresa Hak Kyung Cha's unclassifiable Dictee.
I'm forgetting what other works I wanted to remind myself to let Dimock know about or find out if she knew about, mostly because I was borrowing a colleague's copy of her book and didn't write in it or take any notes on it. Instead, I was revelling in the feeling of witnessing ideas I'd been working on over the past decade precipitating in somebody else's solution--ideas I never would have come up with on my own, but which shared a family resemblance to those of the many writers I've been tracking whom I've been connecting to debates over globalization and literary studies. I hadn't experienced such an intellectual rush since I read Thomas Bender's A Nation Among Nations--a feeling of things falling into place, things I had figured out taking on a new significance or relating to new context, things I had never considered before taking on a new interest and urgency. So while both works inspired all kinds of free associations, they also helped me identify large-scale patterns I had been groping towards, sharpen points I wanted to make, and imagine new possibilities for connections between times and places we usually think of as disjunct.
Teaching/Curriculum
In my contribution to today's roundtable discussion, I'm going to be highlighting some of the unexpected ways the courses I'm teaching this semester connect with issues raised by Bender's and Dimock's work. Of course, I taught Bender in my American Identities course, but it was actually the juxtaposition of class discussions on Gish Jen's Mona in the Promised Land and Sherman Alexie's Reservation Blues that I'll be focusing on as a counterpoint to and way of looking differently at a key moment at the end of Samuel Delany's Atlantis: Model 1924 from my Harlem Renaissance course, which in turn will lead into a consideration of why I organized my Black Women Writers course the way I did and what it was like teaching it. My goal will be to raise the question of what we consider to be the ends of teaching world literature and make a case for a modest, minimalist starting point.
I'll use that starting point as my entry into a more programmatic proposal to reexamine the Fredonia English department curriculum, specifically the way we bridge our introductory-level world literature core (all of which is in Fredonia's general education program) with our required and elective upper-level courses, many of which are in national literatures.
But more on that later! Time to head out for the roundtable....
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Just a Little Experiment...
...by which I mean this post, its connection to my contribution to the Tactical Teaching roundtable here at Reworking the University, and my Intro to Grad Studies in English course, which I'm introducing to the conference participants this afternoon. Let's see how using this post in place of a handout or powerpoint presentation to report on the context, purposes, design, teaching, and results of my particular approach to tactical teaching works out....
One way I hope it works out is that the faculty and students hearing and/or reading this consider why and how they would approach relating the history and politics of their fields, disciplines, profession, and institution in all the intellectual, activist, and other work they do, on campus and off. I'm talking about relating as comparative/interdisciplinary/theoretical work in their own research, as expressive/narrative/creative work in their own writing, and as curricular/design/pedagogical work in their own teaching, mentoring, and service, but most of all as an effort to recognize the differences between these domains and discourses and yet still make connections across them, for themselves and for others. So just as I hope my students will continue the work of my courses (not just complete the work in them), so, too, am I hoping that my readers and listeners will want to work through the issues I'm raising, work up their own approach to teaching the university, and see how it works out.
One thing listening to yesterday's panels, roundtables, and workshops brought home to me is how important--and difficult--it is to situate ourselves and our work in ways that effectively link the individual, local, regional, national, and planetary. What follows is one attempt to combine self-reflexivity and contextualization, to connect theories and strategies to tactics, and to contribute to the ongoing conversation about teaching--and reworking--the university.
Context
So what do you need to know to make sense of my 1.5-credit, half-semester, required master's-level seminar?
First, you need to know a little bit about SUNY Fredonia, a public regional university within the 64-campus State University of New York. We're located right off the New York State Thruway, southwest of Toronto, Buffalo, and Rochester, and northeast of Pittsburgh, Erie, and Cleveland. So if you're thinking rural rust belt, you're not too far off. Over 40% of our 5100 undergraduates and 350 graduate students come from Chautauqua and Erie counties and roughly 75% come from the small towns, suburbs, and cities of western NY. For all too many of them, the Fredonia campus is the most diverse place they've ever been.
OK, so what about our English department? We're a pretty large department for a school of our size, with 25 tenure-stream faculty and more than 300 majors in English and English Adolescence Education and concentrators in English from the College of Education's Childhood and Early Childhood Education majors. Many of them have switched over to us from other departments and programs, often because they like the way we teach our courses they have taken for general education credit. Because we cap our class sizes at 30 when we're teaching three courses in a semester and 25 when we're teaching four, we're able to be fairly flexible in the classroom, with our readings and assignments, and in our office and on-line interactions with our students. With the core of our undergraduate major a set of introductory-level genre-based world literature courses, we don't subscribe to the coverage model. But because we've been able to do a lot of hiring in the last decade or so, particularly in American literature, creative writing, and English education, students have access to a wide range of courses, approaches, traditions, texts, and media each semester.
I should say that our undergraduate students do. Budget cuts and hiring freezes in the 1980s pared down what had been by all accounts a thriving a vibrant graduate program in English. When I first arrived at Fredonia in the fall of 1998, our graduate enrollments were increasing, partially in response to a proposal, eventually shot down, that the state requirement that all English teachers in NY must qualify for professional certification within three years of gaining provisional certification rather than five. But even when enrollments dipped a little this decade, we still struggled to offer enough stand-alone graduate seminars. Now that they're increasing again, this problem is even more urgent, particularly when New York State's fiscal crisis management means we can't hire our way out of it. Although this year we're seeing more off-campus applicants than usual, for many of our best undergraduates, staying at Fredonia for two more years is an attractive option. My colleagues and I have been brainstorming for the last decade how to impress upon them the difference between undergraduate and graduate study, while trying to impress upon ourselves and each other what it means to teach graduate seminars in a program where the master's is the terminal degree, where our teaching load is much heavier than that of our graduate professors, and where our students have a wide range of educational foundations, learning expectations, and career aspirations.
Purposes
ENGL 500, Introduction to Graduate Studies in English, is one attempt to address these challenges. For faculty who might teach it at the same time as they teach another 1.5-credit course (such as its undergraduate equivalent or the graduate capstone), it provides a way to manage their teaching load in additional to its pedagogical purposes. For graduate students, it provides a common initiation into Fredonia's graduate program in English, whether they are going for professional certification, planning to apply to Ph.D. programs, or figuring out their next step. To mash up the catalog copy, course description, and goals:
The last two paragraphs are my own; they signal a desire to embed a survey of methods, approaches, and trends in reading, writing, research, and teaching in the discipline within curricular, professional, and institutional frames. Last semester, I conceived of ENGL 500 as the graduate equivalent of my fall 2005 English Composition course, Writing Matters, where I offered my new undergraduate students opportunities to explore connections between the stakes, purposes, and ideals of higher education, critical and civic literacies, and global challenges of the 21st century--and, in so doing, to question who they were, why they were here, and what they might learn and do. I wanted my new graduate students to have similar opportunities to make sense of this transition in their lives, its identificatory and interpellative structures and situations, and to continue developing a sense of agency and project.
Design
Given the contraints of 8 weekly 150-minute meetings, limited further by my decision to set aside the opening class meeting for a simulation and the final class meeting for student presentations, as well as to build in a library session in the middle, I actually had a little less than 6 full sessions to move us from a consideration of the Fredonia English department's goals and mission in the context of disciplinary histories and debates to a broader examination of how our approaches and practices are informed by and take various positions on the history of debates over curricula in the humanities, the profession of English, and the politics of academic institutions.
In the former 3 sessions, my plan was for students to use Donald Keesey's Contexts for Criticism and M.H. Abrams and Geoffrey Harpham's Glossary of Literary Terms to map different approaches to reading and to use the course ANGEL space to compare their critical travel narratives as a prelude to the session on "reading"; to share samples of their undergraduate writing and, in light of Joseph Gibaldi's MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers and our own locally-produced (mostly by English grad students) writing guide, Beyond Normal: How to Make Your Writing Devilishly Good, as well as a class visit from the professor who was the driving force behind the latter and some youtube clips on new media, to explore their own expectations for writing as a graduate student; and to research how our departmental goals and mission compared to those of other master's programs and report their findings on the course ANGEL space in annotated bibliographies as a prelude to discussing with two professors from the department who have ties to Women's Studies and American Studies how they might consider connecting their reading of literature and theory with their own emerging research interests and focuses.
In the latter 3 sessions, I eased up on the multitasking and ramped up the reading load, as we moved in successive weeks from W.B. Carnochan's The Battleground of the Curriculum to excerpts from Gauri Viswanathan's Masks of Conquest, Michael Berube's The Employment of English, and Amitava Kumar's Passport Photos to most of Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. The three assignments that were due after we completed these discussions--an essay focusing on one idea from the readings or campus events they were most interested in incorporating into their critical or pedagogical practice, a presentation relating the literary work they had chosen to read for the first time that semester to selected issues from the course and in their professional development, and a reflection on their learning in the course--were meant to supplement and build upon our in-class and on-line discussions of these works.
Teaching
Because we were trying to do so many different things in such a short time, I strove to create as relaxed and informal a classroom atmosphere as I could, get the students talking to each other as much as possible, and shift pedagogical gears often enough to keep everyone interested. A couple of examples will have to suffice.
Our opening class meeting culminated in a simulation: as I had a roughly equal number of students taking graduate courses for professional certification as not, I was able to separate them into two groups. Each group would act as a department task force charged with proposing revisions to the requirements for the M.A. or M.S. in Ed. to the Curriculum Committee (me). This role-playing exercise allowed the students to examine their graduate program's structure, identify their expectations, hopes, and anxieties, and imagine ways of doing things differently. It allowed me to share some of the rationales for and histories of the existing structures, answer students' questions, and ask them in turn to consider resource and other implications of their ideas for change. The simulation allowed us to consider relations between individual and institution, structure and agency, constraint and change, project and persuasion; it got the students thinking like professors and taking responsibility for their education. It wasn't only an ice-breaking activity (although it was that, too)--it set the stage and the tone for the rest of the course.
Things didn't always go as planned, of course. But sometimes they went better. Having worked with Bousquet on Workplace: A Journal for Academic Labor for a long time, I knew he'd be interested in talking with my students about his new book, so we set up a skype conference call the day we'd be discussing it. It just so happened that was the same day that one of the largest student protests in Fredonia history took place; a conservative Christian activist came to campus uninvited and proceeded to preach against various aspects of student life he imagined taking place, with a particular emphasis on framing homosexuality as a sin. By the time my class had begun in the late afternoon, what had started as a very small group of students listening to and attempting to engage the speaker in dialogue had grown into a much larger crowd, consisting of hundreds if not a thousand or more students and faculty who had improvised a counter-protest or just come to hang out and enjoy the unseasonably good weather. About 2/3 of my class made a case for observing and reporting on the event (and two even posted a brief report here), while the rest of us brainstormed questions for Bousquet. We had to push back our conversation with him, but were still able to ask a good number of our questions:
Things didn't always work out so serendipitously, of course. Due to heavy demand for sessions with reference librarians, I had to push our library visit back to the week we were supposed to discuss Carnochan's history of curricular debates in the humanities. Students struggled to keep up with the readings, connect them with the assignments, and use both as tools for self-reflection. But overall the course went much better than expected and I'm excited to get a chance to revise and teach it this coming fall.
Results
Students had a hard time categorizing and comparing the goals, missions, and requirements of the master's programs that they researched with the ones in their program at Fredonia, mostly because few departments were as explicit about them as we are on our web site and few students were ready to unpack what was left implicit on their web sites. By and large, they didn't do a very good job of using our readings and discussions on ways of reading to analyze the underlying logic of other programs' structures.
Students wrote critical essays on Marian Wright Edelman's Convocation lecture and the vocation of a teacher; on the Eliot-McCosh debates and their undergraduate institution's balance of electives and requirements; on the exploitation of student labor and the value of literacy and literature; on the rationale for studying criticism; on Judy Shepherd's lecture at Fredonia, The Laramie Project, and queer young adult literature; on how our assigned readings framed debates over the definition of literary studies. Two practicing teachers decided to do structured field experiences, where they planned, taught, and reflected upon units informed by the course. One had her students form teams and produce their own versions of Beyond Normal, with its mix of archival history and writing guide aimed specifically at Fredonia students; the other had his students explore pastoralism and ecocriticism and produce a multimedia response to works by Thoreau, Frost, and Oliver. Some were solid, some were very good, most were in between, but all at least understood the basics of the assignment and wrote capably. Still, I was left wondering how I could better prepare them to "reflect upon and figure out how to apply a key concept, method, or strategy that you have encountered in or out of the course this semester that matters to you and makes a difference to your future plans as a scholar/critic or teacher"--particularly, to focus their reflections and specify their applications.
Students' presentations could be divided into two groups: those who were at Fredonia to earn professional certification tended to focus on works they had heard about and were considering whether and how to teach, from Lowry's The Giver to Anderson's Speak to Runyon's Burn Journals to Hartinger's The Geography Club to Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird to Stoker's Dracula (to help contextualize his students' interest in the Twilight series) to Orwell's 1984 (to address issues of censorship, propaganda, and surveillance); those who were not tended to focus on a canonical writer they had missed or avoided in the past, such as Shakespeare (The Tempest) and Swift (Gulliver's Travels), or were into, such as Leopold (A Sand County Almanac). I was impressed by the students' creativity and effort, but struck again by the gap between my expectations and hopes and what most of them produced. Once again I'll have to better explicate the key elements of the assignment:
What I was hoping for was that students would focus on issues of disciplinarity, curriculum, profession, and/or institution, using their analysis of the work they had chosen and its reception history to speak to their current identity and future plans. Understandably but regrettably, most focused on teaching or research and not on the larger frames the course was designed to disclose.
Fortunately, students' final reflections showed that whatever their struggles on individual assignments, they really had gotten a lot out of the mini-seminar. They tracked their intellectual journeys in the course and pulled together the different readings and assignments with great thoughtfulness, creativity, passion, and specificity. At times, they were brutally honest about the parts of the course that didn't work for them, giving me some excellent ideas for revision. But most of all, they confirmed for me that the general direction, approach, and structure of the course was workable, needing refinement rather than a complete rethinking.
One way I hope it works out is that the faculty and students hearing and/or reading this consider why and how they would approach relating the history and politics of their fields, disciplines, profession, and institution in all the intellectual, activist, and other work they do, on campus and off. I'm talking about relating as comparative/interdisciplinary/theoretical work in their own research, as expressive/narrative/creative work in their own writing, and as curricular/design/pedagogical work in their own teaching, mentoring, and service, but most of all as an effort to recognize the differences between these domains and discourses and yet still make connections across them, for themselves and for others. So just as I hope my students will continue the work of my courses (not just complete the work in them), so, too, am I hoping that my readers and listeners will want to work through the issues I'm raising, work up their own approach to teaching the university, and see how it works out.
One thing listening to yesterday's panels, roundtables, and workshops brought home to me is how important--and difficult--it is to situate ourselves and our work in ways that effectively link the individual, local, regional, national, and planetary. What follows is one attempt to combine self-reflexivity and contextualization, to connect theories and strategies to tactics, and to contribute to the ongoing conversation about teaching--and reworking--the university.
Context
So what do you need to know to make sense of my 1.5-credit, half-semester, required master's-level seminar?
First, you need to know a little bit about SUNY Fredonia, a public regional university within the 64-campus State University of New York. We're located right off the New York State Thruway, southwest of Toronto, Buffalo, and Rochester, and northeast of Pittsburgh, Erie, and Cleveland. So if you're thinking rural rust belt, you're not too far off. Over 40% of our 5100 undergraduates and 350 graduate students come from Chautauqua and Erie counties and roughly 75% come from the small towns, suburbs, and cities of western NY. For all too many of them, the Fredonia campus is the most diverse place they've ever been.
OK, so what about our English department? We're a pretty large department for a school of our size, with 25 tenure-stream faculty and more than 300 majors in English and English Adolescence Education and concentrators in English from the College of Education's Childhood and Early Childhood Education majors. Many of them have switched over to us from other departments and programs, often because they like the way we teach our courses they have taken for general education credit. Because we cap our class sizes at 30 when we're teaching three courses in a semester and 25 when we're teaching four, we're able to be fairly flexible in the classroom, with our readings and assignments, and in our office and on-line interactions with our students. With the core of our undergraduate major a set of introductory-level genre-based world literature courses, we don't subscribe to the coverage model. But because we've been able to do a lot of hiring in the last decade or so, particularly in American literature, creative writing, and English education, students have access to a wide range of courses, approaches, traditions, texts, and media each semester.
I should say that our undergraduate students do. Budget cuts and hiring freezes in the 1980s pared down what had been by all accounts a thriving a vibrant graduate program in English. When I first arrived at Fredonia in the fall of 1998, our graduate enrollments were increasing, partially in response to a proposal, eventually shot down, that the state requirement that all English teachers in NY must qualify for professional certification within three years of gaining provisional certification rather than five. But even when enrollments dipped a little this decade, we still struggled to offer enough stand-alone graduate seminars. Now that they're increasing again, this problem is even more urgent, particularly when New York State's fiscal crisis management means we can't hire our way out of it. Although this year we're seeing more off-campus applicants than usual, for many of our best undergraduates, staying at Fredonia for two more years is an attractive option. My colleagues and I have been brainstorming for the last decade how to impress upon them the difference between undergraduate and graduate study, while trying to impress upon ourselves and each other what it means to teach graduate seminars in a program where the master's is the terminal degree, where our teaching load is much heavier than that of our graduate professors, and where our students have a wide range of educational foundations, learning expectations, and career aspirations.
Purposes
ENGL 500, Introduction to Graduate Studies in English, is one attempt to address these challenges. For faculty who might teach it at the same time as they teach another 1.5-credit course (such as its undergraduate equivalent or the graduate capstone), it provides a way to manage their teaching load in additional to its pedagogical purposes. For graduate students, it provides a common initiation into Fredonia's graduate program in English, whether they are going for professional certification, planning to apply to Ph.D. programs, or figuring out their next step. To mash up the catalog copy, course description, and goals:
Introduction to research methods, strategies, and faculty expectations for reading and writing as a graduate student in literary studies. The course will also explore critical and pedagogical approaches, as well as historical and current trends in literary studies and related disciplines.
This required 1.5-credit seminar aims to help graduate students achieve a deeper and broader perspective on the English department at SUNY Fredonia through consideration and contextualization of department goals and practices in curricular, professional, and institutional frames.
ENGL 500 is designed to prepare students for their future endeavors as English graduate students and new professionals in the field. Students will develop an understanding of the history, purposes, and domains of the discipline of English studies and of the current goals, requirements, structure, components, and content of the English major at SUNY Fredonia.
The last two paragraphs are my own; they signal a desire to embed a survey of methods, approaches, and trends in reading, writing, research, and teaching in the discipline within curricular, professional, and institutional frames. Last semester, I conceived of ENGL 500 as the graduate equivalent of my fall 2005 English Composition course, Writing Matters, where I offered my new undergraduate students opportunities to explore connections between the stakes, purposes, and ideals of higher education, critical and civic literacies, and global challenges of the 21st century--and, in so doing, to question who they were, why they were here, and what they might learn and do. I wanted my new graduate students to have similar opportunities to make sense of this transition in their lives, its identificatory and interpellative structures and situations, and to continue developing a sense of agency and project.
Design
Given the contraints of 8 weekly 150-minute meetings, limited further by my decision to set aside the opening class meeting for a simulation and the final class meeting for student presentations, as well as to build in a library session in the middle, I actually had a little less than 6 full sessions to move us from a consideration of the Fredonia English department's goals and mission in the context of disciplinary histories and debates to a broader examination of how our approaches and practices are informed by and take various positions on the history of debates over curricula in the humanities, the profession of English, and the politics of academic institutions.
In the former 3 sessions, my plan was for students to use Donald Keesey's Contexts for Criticism and M.H. Abrams and Geoffrey Harpham's Glossary of Literary Terms to map different approaches to reading and to use the course ANGEL space to compare their critical travel narratives as a prelude to the session on "reading"; to share samples of their undergraduate writing and, in light of Joseph Gibaldi's MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers and our own locally-produced (mostly by English grad students) writing guide, Beyond Normal: How to Make Your Writing Devilishly Good, as well as a class visit from the professor who was the driving force behind the latter and some youtube clips on new media, to explore their own expectations for writing as a graduate student; and to research how our departmental goals and mission compared to those of other master's programs and report their findings on the course ANGEL space in annotated bibliographies as a prelude to discussing with two professors from the department who have ties to Women's Studies and American Studies how they might consider connecting their reading of literature and theory with their own emerging research interests and focuses.
In the latter 3 sessions, I eased up on the multitasking and ramped up the reading load, as we moved in successive weeks from W.B. Carnochan's The Battleground of the Curriculum to excerpts from Gauri Viswanathan's Masks of Conquest, Michael Berube's The Employment of English, and Amitava Kumar's Passport Photos to most of Marc Bousquet's How the University Works. The three assignments that were due after we completed these discussions--an essay focusing on one idea from the readings or campus events they were most interested in incorporating into their critical or pedagogical practice, a presentation relating the literary work they had chosen to read for the first time that semester to selected issues from the course and in their professional development, and a reflection on their learning in the course--were meant to supplement and build upon our in-class and on-line discussions of these works.
Teaching
Because we were trying to do so many different things in such a short time, I strove to create as relaxed and informal a classroom atmosphere as I could, get the students talking to each other as much as possible, and shift pedagogical gears often enough to keep everyone interested. A couple of examples will have to suffice.
Our opening class meeting culminated in a simulation: as I had a roughly equal number of students taking graduate courses for professional certification as not, I was able to separate them into two groups. Each group would act as a department task force charged with proposing revisions to the requirements for the M.A. or M.S. in Ed. to the Curriculum Committee (me). This role-playing exercise allowed the students to examine their graduate program's structure, identify their expectations, hopes, and anxieties, and imagine ways of doing things differently. It allowed me to share some of the rationales for and histories of the existing structures, answer students' questions, and ask them in turn to consider resource and other implications of their ideas for change. The simulation allowed us to consider relations between individual and institution, structure and agency, constraint and change, project and persuasion; it got the students thinking like professors and taking responsibility for their education. It wasn't only an ice-breaking activity (although it was that, too)--it set the stage and the tone for the rest of the course.
Things didn't always go as planned, of course. But sometimes they went better. Having worked with Bousquet on Workplace: A Journal for Academic Labor for a long time, I knew he'd be interested in talking with my students about his new book, so we set up a skype conference call the day we'd be discussing it. It just so happened that was the same day that one of the largest student protests in Fredonia history took place; a conservative Christian activist came to campus uninvited and proceeded to preach against various aspects of student life he imagined taking place, with a particular emphasis on framing homosexuality as a sin. By the time my class had begun in the late afternoon, what had started as a very small group of students listening to and attempting to engage the speaker in dialogue had grown into a much larger crowd, consisting of hundreds if not a thousand or more students and faculty who had improvised a counter-protest or just come to hang out and enjoy the unseasonably good weather. About 2/3 of my class made a case for observing and reporting on the event (and two even posted a brief report here), while the rest of us brainstormed questions for Bousquet. We had to push back our conversation with him, but were still able to ask a good number of our questions:
- Did you ever expect that your book would be taught in an introduction to graduate studies seminar for master’s students?
- How much do you agree with in Cary Nelson’s foreword?
- In light of what you document, why would anyone want to be a grad student in English?
- What’s so bad about the prevalence of nontenurable teachers in American universities today? Doesn’t their presence keep costs down and save money for parents, students, and taxpayers? Why should parents be worried about having their son or daughter taught by a nontenurable faculty member? Should they get a tuition discount when that happens?
- What’s your central diagnosis of the problems facing American higher education as an institution?
- On page 28 you suggest that Marxist analysis offers the best way of understanding and organizing against contingency in academia. How would you respond now to the tough questions you ask yourself right on that page, particularly “In the big picture of global exploitation, just how important are the problems of underemployed holders of doctoral degrees anyway?”
- Is tenure part of the problem or part of the solution? How has your own tenure affected your role in the academic labor movement? What would it take for tenured faculty to stop being complicit with the trend toward expansion of nontenurable teachers in the professoriate?
- Are unions part of the problem or part of the solution? Look at the U.S. auto industry--and the ways existing faculty unions haven’t slowed the turn toward nontenurable teachers much, if at all....
- Do you think the disconnect between most faculty’s politics (generally liberal) and most Americans’ politics (generally conservative) is a problem for American higher ed? When Ward Churchill and Bill Ayers are the poster children of academia to a good portion of the American public, is it any surprise budgets are bad and getting worse?
- What’s your position on the “market regulation” solution you offer on pages 208-209 today in light of the current financial/credit crisis? How do you set it up? Where does the funding come from? How do you enforce it?
- How about pg. 47’s converting nontenurable piecework to tenure-track jobs idea? Do you anticipate any problems with implementing it?
- Do you have any advice for SUNY, where its budget and tuition levels have always been a political football between the legislature and governor? Gov. Patterson just announced he wants to cut $2B more from the NYS budget—and we’ve already taken a 14% cut ($4.2M)....
Things didn't always work out so serendipitously, of course. Due to heavy demand for sessions with reference librarians, I had to push our library visit back to the week we were supposed to discuss Carnochan's history of curricular debates in the humanities. Students struggled to keep up with the readings, connect them with the assignments, and use both as tools for self-reflection. But overall the course went much better than expected and I'm excited to get a chance to revise and teach it this coming fall.
Results
Students had a hard time categorizing and comparing the goals, missions, and requirements of the master's programs that they researched with the ones in their program at Fredonia, mostly because few departments were as explicit about them as we are on our web site and few students were ready to unpack what was left implicit on their web sites. By and large, they didn't do a very good job of using our readings and discussions on ways of reading to analyze the underlying logic of other programs' structures.
Students wrote critical essays on Marian Wright Edelman's Convocation lecture and the vocation of a teacher; on the Eliot-McCosh debates and their undergraduate institution's balance of electives and requirements; on the exploitation of student labor and the value of literacy and literature; on the rationale for studying criticism; on Judy Shepherd's lecture at Fredonia, The Laramie Project, and queer young adult literature; on how our assigned readings framed debates over the definition of literary studies. Two practicing teachers decided to do structured field experiences, where they planned, taught, and reflected upon units informed by the course. One had her students form teams and produce their own versions of Beyond Normal, with its mix of archival history and writing guide aimed specifically at Fredonia students; the other had his students explore pastoralism and ecocriticism and produce a multimedia response to works by Thoreau, Frost, and Oliver. Some were solid, some were very good, most were in between, but all at least understood the basics of the assignment and wrote capably. Still, I was left wondering how I could better prepare them to "reflect upon and figure out how to apply a key concept, method, or strategy that you have encountered in or out of the course this semester that matters to you and makes a difference to your future plans as a scholar/critic or teacher"--particularly, to focus their reflections and specify their applications.
Students' presentations could be divided into two groups: those who were at Fredonia to earn professional certification tended to focus on works they had heard about and were considering whether and how to teach, from Lowry's The Giver to Anderson's Speak to Runyon's Burn Journals to Hartinger's The Geography Club to Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird to Stoker's Dracula (to help contextualize his students' interest in the Twilight series) to Orwell's 1984 (to address issues of censorship, propaganda, and surveillance); those who were not tended to focus on a canonical writer they had missed or avoided in the past, such as Shakespeare (The Tempest) and Swift (Gulliver's Travels), or were into, such as Leopold (A Sand County Almanac). I was impressed by the students' creativity and effort, but struck again by the gap between my expectations and hopes and what most of them produced. Once again I'll have to better explicate the key elements of the assignment:
After choosing, reading, and researching the reception history of a work of your own choice that you haven't yet read, you will prepare and deliver a 10-minute presentation on it that connects some of the key ways it has been interpreted and valued with the issues we've engaged in the course that have mattered most to you and have best helped you clarify what you intend to do while a graduate student and after.
What I was hoping for was that students would focus on issues of disciplinarity, curriculum, profession, and/or institution, using their analysis of the work they had chosen and its reception history to speak to their current identity and future plans. Understandably but regrettably, most focused on teaching or research and not on the larger frames the course was designed to disclose.
Fortunately, students' final reflections showed that whatever their struggles on individual assignments, they really had gotten a lot out of the mini-seminar. They tracked their intellectual journeys in the course and pulled together the different readings and assignments with great thoughtfulness, creativity, passion, and specificity. At times, they were brutally honest about the parts of the course that didn't work for them, giving me some excellent ideas for revision. But most of all, they confirmed for me that the general direction, approach, and structure of the course was workable, needing refinement rather than a complete rethinking.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Tactical Teaching/Reworking the University
Heading over to Minneapolis tonight for the Reworking the University conference, where I'll be discussing my Intro to Grad Studies in English 1.5-credit master's-level seminar on a Saturday afternoon roundtable with Heather Steffen of Carnegie Mellon and Nick Hengen and Lucia Pawlowski of the University of Minnesota.
I'll be putting the course in context, going over its goals and design, talking about students' and my own takes on how it went, and contrasting it with an undergraduate composition course I taught back in 2005. Since I'll be getting another shot at it in the fall, I'm excited to get great ideas for revision and redesign during the conference (although I doubt any will be as funny as this one). Thanks to Nick for the invitation to participate!
I'll be putting the course in context, going over its goals and design, talking about students' and my own takes on how it went, and contrasting it with an undergraduate composition course I taught back in 2005. Since I'll be getting another shot at it in the fall, I'm excited to get great ideas for revision and redesign during the conference (although I doubt any will be as funny as this one). Thanks to Nick for the invitation to participate!
Friday, April 17, 2009
"Violin Lessons," by Onechan
It's the Month of the Young Child in Chautauqua County and National Poetry Month, to boot, so of course our day care provider is trying to teach onechan and imoto to write poetry. Of course, onechan, who turned 5 a few months ago, is a veteran when it comes to group-authored poetry, but here's her first solo piece:
Violin Lessons
How you hold the bow
The strings are G, D, A, and E
I don't know about the chin rest
I want to keep going
Yeah, she also started violin lessons recently. We gave her the option of any kind of lessons she wanted for her birthday, anticipating swimming or dance or piano, but one of the characters from her favorite anime Ojamajo Doremi plays the violin, Uncle Bill Benzon introduced her to Vanilla Mood over at my other blog, and she's seen enough of Nodame Cantabile to have chosen the violin for herself. That's what we get for giving her a choice, I guess! She's finding it more of a challenge than she anticipated, but she isn't giving up. Here's an episode of Ojamajo Doremi where Hazuki's going through her own violin-related struggles.
Gambatte, onechan!
Violin Lessons
How you hold the bow
The strings are G, D, A, and E
I don't know about the chin rest
I want to keep going
Yeah, she also started violin lessons recently. We gave her the option of any kind of lessons she wanted for her birthday, anticipating swimming or dance or piano, but one of the characters from her favorite anime Ojamajo Doremi plays the violin, Uncle Bill Benzon introduced her to Vanilla Mood over at my other blog, and she's seen enough of Nodame Cantabile to have chosen the violin for herself. That's what we get for giving her a choice, I guess! She's finding it more of a challenge than she anticipated, but she isn't giving up. Here's an episode of Ojamajo Doremi where Hazuki's going through her own violin-related struggles.
Gambatte, onechan!
Saturday, February 07, 2009
On Use and Reference
Compare the articles by Wayne Heming and Patrick Smith, which present contrasting perspectives on LPGA golfer and professional model Anna Rawson in the wake of a radio interview she recently did in Australia that has lead to the year's first serious controversy in the world of women's golf. The controversy revolves around Rawson's choice of words--and at its heart is a debate over reference vs. use.
Here's Heming's set-up:
Was Rawson citing others' views or was she implying she shares or endorses them? A lot hinges on how you read that "you know," which is why being able to hear the interview itself rather than just read snippets from it is so crucial to answering the question well. Not having been able to track down the audio file, the best I can offer now is a reading of how others (who presumably did hear it) are interpreting her words during and after it and a reflection on the controversy it has raised.
In choosing which clarifying/explanatory statements from Rawson to focus on, Heming emphasizes Rawson's insistence on reference:
In his condemnation of Rawson, Smith emphasizes use:
In a similar vein, Bernie Pramberg ends his overview of the controversy with a comment from the head of the ALPG:
So which is it--reference or use? Is Rawson a talentless self-promoter who buys into the beauty myth and is a borderline homophobe, or is the media opportunistically turning her own critique of the way women's golf is perceived and represented into an interrogation of her rather than an opportunity for self-reflection?
LPGA blogger Bill Jempty argues that this is clearly a case of reference. I tend to agree with him on Rawson's intentions, but think she could have done more to make her implied quotation marks more explicit than prefacing them with a "you know"--and perhaps even should have chosen more neutral language to summarize the "mentality" she was trying to criticize. It's not that she got her facts wrong: the quality of competition in the world of women's golf has gotten "so much better" in the past quarter-century; there are many "young stars" ready to challenge the "great players"; those stereotypes about the sexuality and beauty of the golfers on the LPGA did exist (despite the Jan Stephensons and Sally Littles on tour back in the day) and still do in many quarters. It's that the line between reference and use is so slippery to begin with. Even if Rawson had made clear by her tone of voice and the use of the "air quotes" gesture that she was referencing others' beliefs, the very fact she--a glamorous straight young star--repeated a term on the air that's sometimes used as a homophobic slur and sometimes reclaimed and reappropriated by lesbians themselves (in a somewhat similar way as, say, "Yankee" was in the late 18th C by American colonists) put her in an ambiguous position, raising such questions as, "Was she trying to express solidarity with the tour's lesbians, past and present, by not papering over the offensiveness of homophobia? Or was she assuming heteronormativity and associating herself with its most vicious defenders?"
Here's where Judith Butler's discussion in Excitable Speech on the intertwining of mention and use is to the point. Butler points out that every act of hate speech is a mention as well as a use: "The racial slur," she argues, "is always cited from elsewhere, and in the speaking of it, one chimes in with a chorus of racists, producing at that moment the linguistic occasion for an imagined relation to an historically transmitted community of racists.... Indeed, racist speech could not act as racist speech if it were not a citation of itself; only because we already know its force from its prior instances do we know it to be so offensive now, and we brace ourselves against its future invocations" (78). But could some mentions lead to different uses--and different effects?
If you think of radio interviews as performance art of a sort, it's pretty clear that Rawson could have done a better job with Butler's first approach to reappropriating hate speech. And what might happen if the Australian media and the rest of us were to take up Butler's second approach? It's worth recalling that it was an Australian journalist who outed Karrie Webb in 2003. The Australian media's coverage of this controversy rings of belated support for Webb, overcompensation for their own complicity, and projection of all their problems onto Rawson. What if instead we all were to take Butler's response to Richard Delgado to heart?
Ultimately, the traditional reference vs. use debate leads us into an all-too-familiar media spectacle where issues of responsibility are reduced to figuring out who's to blame--Rawson for making the comments in the first place or the media for taking them out of context and misinterpreting them. If we instead follow Butler's course of "ironic hopefulness that the conventional relation between word and wound might become tenuous and even broken over time" (100), the real questions to be considered in the midst and wake of this controversy are:
Here's Heming's set-up:
[Rawson] came under fire for her poorly chosen comments aired by NOVA 5AA in Adelaide on Wednesday.
"The tour has got so much better with so many young stars and great players," Rawson told the radio station in an interview arranged by her father Jim. "But the mentality unfortunately amongst the media and the industry hasn't changed.
"They still think we're at 25 years ago when the tour was full of, you know, a lot of dykes and unattractive females nobody wanted to watch."
Was Rawson citing others' views or was she implying she shares or endorses them? A lot hinges on how you read that "you know," which is why being able to hear the interview itself rather than just read snippets from it is so crucial to answering the question well. Not having been able to track down the audio file, the best I can offer now is a reading of how others (who presumably did hear it) are interpreting her words during and after it and a reflection on the controversy it has raised.
In choosing which clarifying/explanatory statements from Rawson to focus on, Heming emphasizes Rawson's insistence on reference:
"I was making a reference to how I feel society sees women's golf as a whole. I don't believe that. I wouldn't want anyone to think that was my opinion and I am sorry I said that, definitely.
"I was making a reference to how women make seven times less than men on the course and 20-to-25 times less on the sponsorship front. It's amazing how women's golf has grown and we have many great young players out here, yet society and the media haven't really caught onto that.
"That's what I was talking about, I wasn't talking about my opinion at all."
In his condemnation of Rawson, Smith emphasizes use:
It was an offensive remark showing little respect for the women who toiled here in Australia and internationally so the likes of Rawson could make a comfortable living playing the sport professionally.... Rawson's remarks were odious. She is right that women's golf in Australia is growing and developing superior talent. But it is only the legacy of the very women she denigrated on radio. Time she let her clubs do her talking. Otherwise she needs a caddy for her mouth. A little help with sentence selection wouldn't go astray.
In a similar vein, Bernie Pramberg ends his overview of the controversy with a comment from the head of the ALPG:
"She was not misunderstood. She did not preface her comments by saying the perception of women's golf was that of society. It was her perception. It's disappointing she made the comments."
So which is it--reference or use? Is Rawson a talentless self-promoter who buys into the beauty myth and is a borderline homophobe, or is the media opportunistically turning her own critique of the way women's golf is perceived and represented into an interrogation of her rather than an opportunity for self-reflection?
LPGA blogger Bill Jempty argues that this is clearly a case of reference. I tend to agree with him on Rawson's intentions, but think she could have done more to make her implied quotation marks more explicit than prefacing them with a "you know"--and perhaps even should have chosen more neutral language to summarize the "mentality" she was trying to criticize. It's not that she got her facts wrong: the quality of competition in the world of women's golf has gotten "so much better" in the past quarter-century; there are many "young stars" ready to challenge the "great players"; those stereotypes about the sexuality and beauty of the golfers on the LPGA did exist (despite the Jan Stephensons and Sally Littles on tour back in the day) and still do in many quarters. It's that the line between reference and use is so slippery to begin with. Even if Rawson had made clear by her tone of voice and the use of the "air quotes" gesture that she was referencing others' beliefs, the very fact she--a glamorous straight young star--repeated a term on the air that's sometimes used as a homophobic slur and sometimes reclaimed and reappropriated by lesbians themselves (in a somewhat similar way as, say, "Yankee" was in the late 18th C by American colonists) put her in an ambiguous position, raising such questions as, "Was she trying to express solidarity with the tour's lesbians, past and present, by not papering over the offensiveness of homophobia? Or was she assuming heteronormativity and associating herself with its most vicious defenders?"
Here's where Judith Butler's discussion in Excitable Speech on the intertwining of mention and use is to the point. Butler points out that every act of hate speech is a mention as well as a use: "The racial slur," she argues, "is always cited from elsewhere, and in the speaking of it, one chimes in with a chorus of racists, producing at that moment the linguistic occasion for an imagined relation to an historically transmitted community of racists.... Indeed, racist speech could not act as racist speech if it were not a citation of itself; only because we already know its force from its prior instances do we know it to be so offensive now, and we brace ourselves against its future invocations" (78). But could some mentions lead to different uses--and different effects?
An aesthetic enactment of an injurious word may both use the word and mention it, that is, make use of it to produce certain effects but also at the same time make reference to that very use, calling attention to it as a citation, situating that use within a citational legacy, making that use into an explicit discursive item to be reflected upon rather than a taken for granted operation of ordinary language. Or, it may be that an aesthetic reenactment uses that word, but also displays it, points to it, outlines it as an arbitrary material instance of language that is explited to produce certain effects. In this sense, the word as a material signifier is foregrounded as semantically empty in itself, but as that empty moment in language that can become the site of a semantically compounded legacy and effect. This is not to say that the word loses its power to injure, but that we are given the word in such a way that we can begin to ask: how does a word become the site for the power to injure? Such use renders the word as a textual object to be thought about and read, even as it also implicates us in a relation of knowingness about its conventional force and meaning. (99-100)
If you think of radio interviews as performance art of a sort, it's pretty clear that Rawson could have done a better job with Butler's first approach to reappropriating hate speech. And what might happen if the Australian media and the rest of us were to take up Butler's second approach? It's worth recalling that it was an Australian journalist who outed Karrie Webb in 2003. The Australian media's coverage of this controversy rings of belated support for Webb, overcompensation for their own complicity, and projection of all their problems onto Rawson. What if instead we all were to take Butler's response to Richard Delgado to heart?
Richard Delgado writes, "Words such as 'nigger' and 'spick' are badges of degradation even when used between friends: these words have no other connotation." And yet, this very statement, whether written in his text or cited here, has another connotation; he has just used the word in a significantly different way. Even if we concede--as I think we must--that the injurious connotation is inevitably retained in Delgado's use, indeed, that it is difficult to utter those words or, indeed, to write them here, because they unwittingly reiterate that degradation, it does not follow that such words can have no other connotation. Indeed, their repetition is necessary (in court, as testimony; in psychoanalysis, as traumatic emblems; in aesthetic modes, as a cultural working-through) in order to enter them as objects of another discourse. (100)
Ultimately, the traditional reference vs. use debate leads us into an all-too-familiar media spectacle where issues of responsibility are reduced to figuring out who's to blame--Rawson for making the comments in the first place or the media for taking them out of context and misinterpreting them. If we instead follow Butler's course of "ironic hopefulness that the conventional relation between word and wound might become tenuous and even broken over time" (100), the real questions to be considered in the midst and wake of this controversy are:
- What are the most harmful stereotypes of women golfers today?
- What can each of us do to challenge them?
- How should the major institutions of women's professional golf (including the media) deal with the history of homophobia and culture of heteronormativity in and around the sport?
- What would it take to enter injurious words as "objects of another discourse" than hate speech and break the "conventional relation between word and wound"?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Updike on Golf
Geoff Shackelford points out that the USGA has produced the only golf-driven obituary for John Updike, as well as a bibliography of his golf writing and, most important, a web version of his brilliant 1994 essay, "The Spirit of the Game."
Read the whole thing, as they are wont to say in these here parts.
Read the whole thing, as they are wont to say in these here parts.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Someone Break the News to David Horowitz
News flash: there are a lot of Republicans on the PGA Tour. Finally, David Horowitz has a chance to prove how fair and balanced he can be by mounting a campaign for a golfer's bill of rights, promising to discover the networks behind this nefarious conspiracy to exclude liberal golfers, and publishing a list of the 100 Most Dangerous Golfers.
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