Wednesday, June 5, 2019

The State of the University Revisited - A Case for Hope?


When we recorded our first episode in November 2017, we thought the natural place to start was assessing the state of the university as a whole. As relatively new graduates joining the ranks of full-time faculty at a wide variety of institutions with differing sorts of positions, we had definite opinions about how the university was holding up against the political and social environments of the early Trump administration.

Now, nearly two years later, it seems to me that the state of the university is much the same as we left it in 2017. On one hand, it's disheartening to see continued pressure put on higher educational institutions to corporatize – arguing tacitly, and sometimes verbally, that the same employment and "customer retention" models that work for Wal-Mart must work for your local community college. On one hand, the fact that the current administration has not been able to do significant damage to the university system during these two years is cause for some mild celebration. Despite proposals to do so, the education budget has not been thoroughly decimated. Financially, those who seem poised to suffer the most are college graduates who are slowly but surely being frozen out of the loan forgiveness programs that promised relief for those who worked in the public sector. Law students found themselves on the receiving ends of rejections from the PSLF program, despite meeting all published requirements. Of the first round of applicants to this program, less than 3% of applicants received their loan forgiveness, despite meeting all published requirements. Now, as it was last year, the program is on the chopping block again. Its termination seems politically unpopular, so there’s always hope that it will remain.

There are, however, cracks in the edifice that show the weight of cultural shift we’ve undergone as a community these last three-ish years. The issue over campus “free speech” is once again in the spotlight. The president recently signed an executive order purportedly guaranteeing free speech on college campuses, claiming simultaneously that conservative ideas and speakers were routinely stifled at universities. (I’ll spare readers here the old joke about indoctrination and syllabus-reading.) As a result, federal funds to universities could potentially be denied if the Department of Education feels that the university has stymied free speech by not allowing the likes of Milo Yiannopoulous or Jordan Peterson to address students. This has continued to foment distrust amongst the conservative community and university faculty and staff, the former who still believe that universities are sites of “indoctrination.” In truth, more often than not, it is student bodies, not administration or faculty, who oppose these types of speakers. Although federal funding is a significant portion of any university’s budget, we must not forget that the most significant amount of funding comes from students who will be paying for their educations for the length of a mortgage. Do they not deserve a say?

These developments aside, I can tell you as a teacher on the front lines in a very conservative state that things are perhaps not as bleak as they seem in the classroom. I teach introductory composition courses frequently, and part of our curriculum is to adapt our required “campus read” into our course structure so students will engage with it more earnestly. This year, the selection is Keith Payne’s The Broken Ladder: How Inequality Affects the Way We Think, Live, and Die (2017). I teach in a boot-straps mentality state. If I have it, it’s because I earned it. If you don’t have it, it’s because you didn’t work hard enough/deserve it. While that mentality is part-and-parcel of most conservative thinking, it is worth noting that many of my students and their parents are extraordinarily hard workers in a state with the 10th highest rate of poverty in 2017. As they’ve entered college, many of them doing so for that ephemeral promise of a “better life,” and the costs are burdensome. They work hard for classes. Then they go home and work hard at a minimum wage job and find time for homework in between. Although my university is certainly one of the more affordable ones in the state, many will still leave with close to $40,000 in debt if they are able to graduate in four years. Our state legislature recently approved extending two years of funding, typically only available to community college students, to university students as well – so this will make a huge difference. Yet as we read through The Broken Ladder and other texts exploring types of inequality, my students did not seem the same to me as other students from conservative bastions where I had taught before. While you still find a lot of vocal support for the current administration, students are much more at ease admitting that they find the system to be “rigged.” What used to be dismissed as complaining or a lack of ingenuity is now a common parlance for the course. “I feel like it’s bad that they’re making it so only rich people can afford to go to college or become doctors and lawyers,” one student said. We talked about the systemic problems that might arise in that kind of world. What does it mean to have a doctor who’s never tried to buy groceries on $150 a month tell you that your eating choices are “unhealthy?” What would it mean to have a lawyer who never had to financially struggle represent you in a small claims dispute? What does it mean to have an upper-middle-class teacher thrust into a public school in a high-poverty district with students whose parents are at work all day and have no time to help with homework or bake sales?

 It can be depressing to recognize that while the situation isn’t starkly worse in higher education now, it seems as though we are all holding our fingers in the dam praying that things don’t get worse. There’s a mighty institutional force on the other side of that dam chipping away with budget cuts, administrators who have “bold ideas,” worshiping big data and assessment, and a general fear of the power a university can wield in capable hands. But take it from me, although we find ourselves in much the same predicament as we were two years ago, the situation on the ground seems as if it there’s an awakening happening among young college-going students. A lot of my colleagues who have been teaching for years may not see it. Complaints still abound about entitlement, laziness, ignorance, etc. Where I see significant progress, though, is that many of them show up to college with a more progressive ideology than they’re perhaps comfortable admitting. They know they’re coming into a rigged system. They’ve watched it their whole lives. And they’re starting to figure out who rigged it. And they’re starting to figure out that they need to fix it. And the state of the university now is that we need to be the ones who stop griping about what they don’t know and give them the tools to fix it – for all our sakes.

Friday, February 22, 2019

#RaceB4Race Reflections: How We Do Better

A brief note: I started writing this a month ago, but then my third-year review took over, and well, yeah. BUT HERE IT IS! Enjoy y'all!

So we're kicking off our blog, and we thought what better way to do so then reflecting on such an amazing, challenging, thought-provoking event as ACMRS's Race Before Race Symposium at Arizona State University. First off, full-disclosure: all three of us graduated from ASU's Ph.D. program focusing in Renaissance studies (ACMRS Director and SAA President Ayanna Thompson was my dissertation chair, served on Michael's committee, and mentored all three of us). That being said, it was truly an honor to be able to make it back to Tempe for this event, and the news that a second Race Before Race Symposium is already being planned at the Folger Library in September 2019 is great news. All three of us strongly believe that we need to see more events like this in the future, and we need to challenge ourselves and others (and not just in Premodern Studies) to address race more insightfully and critically in our scholarly and pedagogical work than we have in the past.

If you were unable to attend, Erik Wade (@erik_kaars on Twitter) compiled many of the tweets from the symposium. The tweets from Day 1 are here, and the tweets from Day 2 are here. You can also search the hashtag #RaceB4Race on Twitter. Additionally, I'd also recommend friend and contributor to the podcast Ambereen Dadabhoy's fabulous reflections on the symposium here (and follow Ambereen on Twitter @DrDadabhoy).

As I look back on the symposium, I'm amazed and excited how much my thinking has returned to it throughout the past month. Jeffrey Cohen noted on Twitter that we may have been witnessing a seismic shift in our fields, and I certainly hope so. Some of the things that have stuck with me the most are the ways in which the presenters challenged us on our thinking and assumptions. On the first day, Dorothy Kim started out by (among many other things) calling out how "rigor" in Medieval Studies is often deployed to delegitimize the study of race in the field, and these delegitimizing moves were returned to time and again by various speaker throughout the two days. Patricia Akhimie discussed work from her recent book Shakespeare and the Cultivation of Difference (and the next book on my reading list), considering how the idea of mutability in Renaissance conduct books did not apply to all, especially those seen as racially other. This was followed by Noémie Ndiaye's work on what she calls "racecraft," thinking through how race in Renaissance Drama was constructed through both the dramatic work and its performance on stage (I'm always for greater attention on audience reception, and Ndiaye's work offers some incredibly useful thinking on this front). This was followed by Seeta Chaganti and Shokoofeh Rajabzadeh in conversation with one another, raising issues around the invisible labor of academics and students, and the assumptions we carry about that labor. One thing that really stuck with me was how Chaganti and Rajabzadeh asked where we fell on the spectrum between "changing the system" and "burning it down." Many days such as today (thanks to two separate awful academics discussed on Twitter), I lean towards burning it all down (as I think all three of us have on the podcast at some point), but the reality is that probably won't fix it. We have to do the hard work of changing the system (and maybe we burn down a few parts along the way). Cord J. Whitaker responded to the first day of talks, posing an interesting and important set of questions in the process: How do we move beyond simply talking back? How do we talk new?

On the second day, Urvashi Chakravarty led the way with fascinating work on the inheritance/influence of early modern England on American slavery, an excellent reminded that we cannot silo periods off historically but must envision them as part of larger histories. Kim Hall then turned us to archives (posing some important questions to the audience you can find here), early modern food studies, and the need to seek out and cite black women and black scholars, both in terms of promoting the work of our black colleagues and finding black voices in the archives and bringing them into our work. Next up, Jonathan Hsy opened by encouraging the audience to think about using the symposium to carve out family time and consider how scholars of color have to navigate spaces not built for them. Using the examples of Medieval writer Teresa de Cartegena, Hsy discussed how we can understand current and evolving issues around modern sign language by understanding de Cartegena's own experiences as a deaf woman through intersectional approaches. In his talk, David Sterling Brown challenged the centrality of whiteness in early modern domestic criticism and brought this to bear on the present and making sure everyone has a seat at the table (Brown also upped the slide game of Race Before Race to new levels, with a slide featuring an actual race card an amazing highlight of his presentation). In the final talk of the symposium, Carla María Thomas provided an autoethnographic presentation on her experiences as both Latinx and white-passing in the academy and opening up the space for the audience to think about how we can embody antiracist whiteness in premodern studies. Farah Karim-Cooper rounded out the symposium with a reminder of how white many other conferences spaces continue to be, and the need for us to talk about race and undertake intersectional work in our research, our teaching, and our daily lives.

At the end of the symposium, and even a month later, I am still amazed at what an important event Race Before Race was. All the presenters were doing necessary work, and there was a challenge to the audience both in the room and beyond to do better and move forward. As someone who is invested in being a good ally, I learned so much from attending Race Before Race, and I realized that I still have a lot of work to do as a straight, white, male, cisgendered scholar and teacher. But I can say I really was honored to be in the presence of so many fantastic scholars doing such critical work. I also really appreciated how the symposium offered different models for approaching the conference/symposium talk. Patricia Akhimie kicked this off by asking the audience her research questions and building a conversation around them as opposed to the traditional Q&A (a model which many of the other presenters followed). Seeta Chaganti and Shojoofeh Rajabzadeh's conversation presented another model, and in both cases, I appreciated how the presenters opened up spaces for the audience to discuss and engage with their work. It seemed to me to be a much more collaborative space, and helped me to work through some of the ideas and issues that came up throughout the conference. There is so much more I'm still thinking about, and I'll continue to do so as I turn my attention towards this year's Shakespeare Association of America meeting, but I want to end on a heartful (if belated) thanks to all those involved in making Race Before Race such a truly amazing experience.