Category: literacy, literature, and language

  • From Bad to Worse

    Current educational challenges are bad enough without the Chicago Tribune making these worse, which it did with its recent editorial.

    In it, its editorial board admonishes “emboldened” teachers who are pressuring students to accept teachers’ politics or be excluded from classroom communities, which it argues deprives these students of their rights. It argues that such teachers are doing a “disservice” to their students’ learning, that schools must consider how their employees “present” present themselves, and that classrooms cannot become “perfect captive audience[s]” for teachers or anyone considers “politics as the highest social calling.”

    The editorial board is right to remind educators to remember the power that they hold but wrong to ignore pre-existing pressure beyond classrooms, which existed long before Charlie Kirk was assassinated. For example, I stopped challenging college students and started self-censoring classroom comments upon learning that he had been encouraging them to record and report professors.

    I wondered if I were overreacting but was later relieved to have done so. Campus colleagues were cited in a 2023 Fox News report, and others across Chicago have been threatened after appearing on Kirk’s watch list.

    I discovered that this pressure could be institutional when for example my hapa, or mixed, kid was excluded from a high school assembling that was restricted to African-American students. I similarly had an August Wilson new course proposal returned because it insufficiently explained I was informed how this course would serve diversity, equity, and inclusion goals as if any explanation could be necessary.

    The bigger problem however is that the Tribune constructs a caricature of teachers. Some teachers I’m sure suggest to students that their political opponents are “bad, evil and wrong,” but not all do, and none would consider such statements as smart pedagogical strategies.

    Such a caricature in other words misunderstands the essence of education, at least in the humanities where I spent my academic career. In contrast, I considered my obligation to be challenging students to develop their thinking abilities in addition to imparting whatever knowledge central to each course.

    As a result, I would deliberately describe the best challenge to students’ arguments regardless of whether it was liberal, conservative, or something else, and regardless of whether I personally believed it. In fact, I often reminded students that they shouldn’t assume every argument I offered reflected my professional or personal beliefs, and that I had done my job if they were unsure of these at the end of the semester.

    I’m not suggesting that such an approach is apolitical. I unlike the Tribune editorial board believe that politics are inescapable and that choices reflect these. At the same time, it and I seem to agree on the purpose of education, which is perhaps more central than ever.

    Nonetheless, I concede that such an approach has to be used within the context of intellectual freedom. Moreover, I would define that not as the ability to articulate any thought but rather as I learned from another Chicago colleague a balance of freedom of thought and expression and a right of inclusion, or a space where students can both offer their observations and are welcome to do so.

    I wasn’t trying to reinforce some students’ preconceived perspectives and changing others’ minds but rather trying to push every student’s ability to think, and to do so for all students, or at least as many as I could convince to respond. I hoped even those whose perspectives hadn’t shifted at least learned to develop rebuttals, and an ability to consider the limitations of any position they might advocate.

    At least I did until I learned about Kirk’s professor-watch list, and would have continued doing if I had greater confidence in campus administrators and professional and social support, including from the Tribune editorial board.

    I agree that classrooms offer “captive” audiences, that students needn’t know their teachers’ politics, and that schools should be “the freest places” for curiosity and critical thinking. I just think that these insights aren’t news to good teachers, who are already aware of these.

    I experienced educational challenges from liberals. I just was, and am, much more concerned about conservative challenges, which seemed emboldened in the current president’s first term and even more so in his second one.

  • More Like a Summer Slurpee

    NPR critic Maureen Corrigan suggests that El Dorado Drive by Megan Abbott (2025) is one of the better summer suspense novels, but I think it barely qualifies as a beach read.

    Harper, the youngest of three Bishop sisters, is invited by her older sisters Pam and Deb to join a female financial club that seems as much a ponzi scheme as an empowerment source. Their individual financial needs are not unlike those of the other middle-aged women in their Detroit hometown, and the ensuing mayhem could have been caused by any of these financial investors or Harper’s ex-brother-in-law or her niece.

    Harper, the youngest of three Bishop sisters, is invited by her older sisters Pam and Deb to join a female financial club that seems as much a ponzi scheme as an empowerment source. Their individual financial needs are not unlike those of the other middle-aged women in their Detroit hometown, and the ensuing mayhem could have been caused by any of these financial investors or Harper’s ex-brother-in-law or her niece.

    The suspense, which surfaces early, eventually rises to a modest wave, but that isn’t enough to carry readers to the shore. Moreover, possible themes — sisters’ adult relationships for example or female financial independence — loom on the horizon but never crest atop the churning water. And the character development at most can sustain casual floaters who would still have to paddle to the shore.

    This story despite any aspirations gets caught in a genre conventions current. Abbott is know for her efforts to reconfigure conventional genres around female perspectives, but this attempt seems unable to decide whether it wants to be a serious story or is willing to settle for something somewhat less.

    As such, it seems unfinished even for a summer beach read.

  • A Need to Read?

    Gloria Edim’s (2024) new memoir is a project in search of a problem.

    The book is a series of thematic chapters loosely organized in chronological order. These offer clusters of experiences, and the ways that reading helped her think through and about these.

    Edim’s claim to fame is the the Well-Read Black Girl organization, which began with a birthday t-shirt from her ex- that enabled her to escape her social isolation and connect with others. She used these casual conversations to launch a book club with friends, which she has developed into an organization that uses storytelling to advocate for social change.

    An account of its origins, and a justification for such a life, might make for relevant reading. The latter could be especially engaging in this era of digital culture, and its attendant challenges to previous justifications for reading, and the humanities.

    The problem is that it never quite gets there. Instead, it focuses more on who Edim has become and how she got there, which is obviously important to her but not necessarily at least as the way these are treated in this book to others.

    A second problem, which emerged after I finished it, is missing information. The timeline is somewhat unclear although I had attributed that to artistic choice. However, it omits details that if included could create challenges at least to the story as presented and promoted in it.

    A good example is her missing father, and he and their subsequent reconnection in Nigeria play prominent parts. However, the book is somewhat unclear that he had previously left for Nigeria, and that her mother and she had reportedly accompanied him when she was younger and frequently visited him, which suggests a somewhat different perspective on for example the house he built there, and left after his death for her brother and her.

    This issue, which is more a challenge for the genre, has little impact on the central limitation. That for me is how books justify their existence, and made this one less satisfying than I expected and hoped.