Wednesday, January 27, 2010

notes from the front

I went tonight to a panel discussion at the University on the subject of teaching environmental issues in an interdisciplinary manner. It was aimed at graduate students and I don’t teach at that level, but I do find myself often teaching environmental skills to people with university-level educations, so I guess the leap is not so far. I thought the panel might help to inspire some sense of direction in my own consideration of graduate school – no luck there – but it did inspire a few other thoughts. The most thought-provoking comment of the evening, interestingly enough, came from a grad student in the philosophy department, who noted that unlike other academic disciplines, the field of conservation biology comes with an inherent agenda, a theory or philosophy (my words, not hers) that is shared if not widely discussed by its adherents. Where other academic disciplines would seem to approach education for its own sake, conservation carries with it some idea of “saving the world.” This is a difficult concept to pin down, and I’m not sure if any two environmentalists would agree on exactly how, or why, or from what, the world needs saving, but there’s no doubt that the tone of this panel was based on the idea that environmental teachers have a big job to do: they – we – are charged with training the generation of students that will, if we’re lucky, save the planet. Does any other academic discourse have this grand of a raison d’ĂȘtre? It is not enough merely to pass on knowledge, or to train students in critical thinking or the scientific method. Something much larger, it would seem, hangs in this balance.

Her observation was phrased as a criticism, pointing out a flaw in the philosophy of the discipline – and I certainly won’t argue against a deeper examination of the goals of the environmental movement, or the presumption that we all share the same ones. But that’s another discussion. What got me going tonight was the counter-argument; that is, the idea that any academic pursuit doesn’t have an agenda of its own. I started thinking about A’s class, and the discussion we’ve had about how to avoid putting a political slant onto a class discussion. Can you talk about politics, or race, or class, or gender, without revealing your own views on those issues? If, as a teacher and authority figure, you do reveal your political views, does that oppress or silence those who disagree with you in the classroom, and discourage open discussion? On the other hand, how can censoring yourself do your students justice? For that matter, how can you even know which of your own ideas are (so-called) political, when the very language in which they’re expressed carries power of its own?

I think we have Foucault, and perhaps Derrida, to thank for that kind of thinking. (I would cite specifics if I knew them, but then I’m only a petty intellectual). Following this line of reasoning a bit more, I can’t help thinking that every teacher has an agenda, except perhaps a very bad teacher. If you don’t want your students to come away with something, to leave having grasped your message, then why teach? Even the most open-minded of teachers, the one who has no intent of indoctrination, who wants to open her students’ minds and encourage independent thinking, doesn’t she still hope – in her heart of hearts, if you will – that that independent thinking will lead to conclusions somewhat in line with, and perhaps even more inspired than, her own? If she has any conclusions, that is, any strong opinions or ideas of her own. Perhaps you will say, “but the best teachers value independent or critical thinking over any particular dogma.” Yes, but isn’t this value of independent or critical thinking a dogma of its own?

I have occasionally said (to myself), “All education is propaganda,” and vice versa. Or, when I’m feeling more elaborative: “The only difference between education and propaganda is whether you agree with it or not.”

A nice little sound bite, but this philosophy presents some challenges when you find yourself taking the role of a teacher. For that reason, I find it fairly refreshing to be openly propagandist and make the agenda clear right up front. After all, every discipline and every teacher has one, even if it’s unstated and perhaps even unrealized. In secret, behind the heavy closed doors of the academy, knowingly or unknowingly, the economists refurbish the girders of global capitalism --the physicists seek out the underlying building blocks of existence -- the cultural critics propagate theories of Marxism and deconstruction -- the engineers propel forward the grumbling engines of industrial society. As for me, I’ll be right out here in front of the place , just saving the world.

Friday, January 22, 2010

intellectuals, part 1

There are a lot of ways to be an intellectual. Gramsci seems to care more about the day laborers; and let me tell you, from personal experience, he’s mostly got it right. R comes home – usually late, because salaried non-profit employees work till the job is done – always dirty, always caked in dirt. It’s not that interesting. So I am here to hold it down for the intellectuals. Petty or not, at least we’re clean at the end of the day.

There are the intellectuals in movies who sleep with all of their students. There are the intellectuals who never finish their PhDs and live desperate lives of red wine and oft-quoted poetry. There are the intellectuals who never went to school, and the intellectuals who go to school for way to long. Intellectuals are not always academics. Academics are not always intellectuals. We are petty in love, petty in cash, petty in our knowledge of the “real world.” We quote Marx like we know him intimately. Most of us do.

But let me respond to those who claim that academia is an “ivory tower,” is elite, is the engine of elitism. They’re wrong. As a graduate student TA, I earn less than someone on unemployment. When I go on the job market in a few years, I will face a nation-wide hiring freeze in general, and a growing disdain for and down-sizing of the humanities in particular. Indeed, I think this the whole “ivory tower” trope is part of this trend away from the humanities … why, in a nation fueled by technological development and bio-research, would we need departments whose job is to research and think about the human condition? The consensus, more or less, is that we don't (see a great article by Mike Slouka on this … you might need to pay for it. Elite!). But I think we do. To have space to think – to really get into things, to crack them open, to bring to light, to put pressure on – is necessary work. With or without that glass of red wine.

So cheers to R, who gets-things-done every day, while I am stuck in the blackberry brambles of deconstructive theory. There is tangible and there is intangible. Too often these sides do not get to conversation. Welcome to our blog.

“…they are drunkards, incapable of sustained labor; spendthrifts, and hence biologically deficient, either because of chronic malnutrition or because of mental retardation and stupidity.”

- Antonio Gramsci
, Prison Notebooks