Fighting the Man

In “Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy,” Ann George closes her article by noting Freire’s attempt to cope with the complications of the radical teaching instructor “who stands with one foot in the system, the present, today’s reality, and the other foot outside the system, in the future, in utopia” (109). I agree with Freire in that educators who embrace critical pedagogy must work their way through “the system” in order to help reform it through their teachings and through raising students’ critical consciousness. Like toddlers, educators must take baby steps, expect falls, and pick themselves up again in order to achieve their greater aim of reforming the broken system(s) of society (i.e., education, politics, etc).

As an educator who is currently teaching 1984, I cannot help but straddle the two worlds of the present and the future. Discussions of how the world of Big Brother is similar or different to our own society are unavoidable, and once students realize certain injustices in our own society, is it not our place as teachers to show them ways of channeling their anger, disgust, or disappointment in a constructive manner to reform the system rather than being complacent with the idea of sitting and whining “this isn’t fair,” or worse, trying to simply destroy the system?

Some scholars like Maxine Hairston take issue with the idea of “politicizing” the classroom, but I would argue that (1) everything is political and (2) promoting social justice is not promoting one type of ideology over another; social justice is promoting a concern for others. Dennis Lynch agrees that “respect for difference, fairness, and a forum for the free exchange of ideas,” which are all part of social justice, are “political values and agendas we share by virtue of living in a democracy,” not an ideology (108).

So what are the qualities of an ideal classroom in which we toddle toward a brighter future? Giroux describes a utopian classroom as a classroom in which “all voices in their differences become unified both in their efforts to identify and recall moments of human suffering and in their attempts to overcome the conditions that perpetuate such suffering” (105). Giroux implies that a utopian classroom takes action in order to overcome the conditions that perpetuate suffering rather than simply discussing conditions of suffering. In our study of 1984, should students and teachers simply discuss the conditions of torture in the novel, or should we write letters to the Secretary of Defense calling for improvement of conditions for detainees at Guantanamo? In a utopian classroom, we would take this action. We would actively engage in the world around us, not just our campus or neighborhood communities.

To put this in perspective, political action is not the main aim of my course, but I think it is safe to say that the power of language is at the core of every composition course. To those who are critics of critical pedagogy, I ask: is there a more effective way than political action to show that the pen is mightier than the sword?

Collaboration, Context, and Rhetoric

Collaborative pedagogy provides an important social context in which students learn to discuss ideas in a thoughtful, constructive way. Reading the methods of employing collaborative pedagogy, I recognized that many of my methods align with this approach when it comes to classroom discussion and the “power politics” of a classroom, namely, de-centering power so the majority of the power is in the hands of the students. However, like any pedagogy, collaborative pedagogy needs to be tempered with other approaches as well, specifically when it comes to the concept of “socially justified belief.”

Case in point, today in my AP Rhetoric and Composition class, we were reading the introduction to Jeffrey Walker’s Investigating Arguments: Readings for College Writing, a book used in college for a class entitled “Texts, Subtexts, and Contexts.” The introduction is in the form of a dialogue between Socrates and Phaedrus, in which the two argue about what rhetoric is, both, of course, using rhetorical strategies to persuade his opponent. Upon reading a bandwagon argument, I asked the students if bandwagon arguments were a strong way to win an argument. They unanimously said “yes.” I then rephrased my question asking, “Well, is it a logical way to win an argument?” Again, they responded with the affirmative. After some discussion, they were willing to agree that bandwagon arguments are not an appeal to logos, but rather pathos. After establishing this, I then asked in the form of an example: if everyone were cheating on a certain quiz, does that mean it is okay to cheat since everyone else is doing it? Once again, the haunting “yes” returned to the room.

In a school where integrity, scholarship, and respect are the tenets of the honor code, does the collaborative approach, with the notion of “socially justified belief,” construct a community? Or does it become an excuse for dishonorable decision-making? Does socially justified belief (SJB) lead to a new kind of learning? Or does it promote an environment of bandwagoning, peer pressure, and ignorance?

While I know that the collaborative approach, generally speaking, can be very positive and very powerful, I’m not sure that SJB achieves its aim of divergent thinking. In a high school classroom, it’s possible that SJB promotes the pressure to conform and allows for misconceptions and stereotypes to breed freely rather than shedding light on misconceptions. Perhaps the concept of SJB is more successful in post-secondary institutions where students are more likely to question assumptions and to speak up, even if their beliefs seem to be in the minority. Then again, when I consider how some of my English classes were as an undergraduate, these discussions ultimately seemed to be a test of students’ rhetorical skills, and the discussions seemed to end in more of a consensus rather than difference.

It's like Freddie said...