Friday, October 5, 2012

Growing an Intellectual Community in the Academy

A few days ago a former colleague sent the history department an e-mail explaining why as a Mormon he was voting for President Obama instead of Governor Romney. It was a powerful combination of intellect, scripture and political savvy. Yet, its prime importance to me was that it reflected a sense of intellectual brother/sisterhood. His was not an advocacy letter but simply a explanation to friends and colleagues of his feelings during this election season.

A couple of days after I received it I spoke to another colleague about the letter and we agreed that its impact was more communal than political. It was a sharing and it was intellectual rather than partisan or emotional. It got us talking about what is the "academy" and what is "scholarly and intellectual" within that environment. We concluded that many parts of the university environment can be opportunities in which to grow intellectually as well as come together as a community. Needless to say, it rarely does play out that way, but it can.

Where can we create an intellectual environment while creating a sense of community? In practically every place at the university when we bring down the wall between students and professors--and among senior and junior colleagues--and create spheres of respect, recognizing that each has a particular role but that both are there to learn and evolve intellectually. Some examples: during office hours where we can take time to expand the discussions from one of what are the assignments to how they fit in the process of learning history. And we can invite students to share their ideas and then we share our own. The same can be done while chatting with young colleagues in the hallways, workroom or after faculty meetings.

In class we can ask the students to participate in the process of learning by going to the blackboard, to read out their material and to partner with others. And then we become a member of each group by our participation within each. In master's and honor thesis committees we can go beyong asking students what they know and learned to inviting them to have a conversation with us about how their topic fits into the scheme of learning history or simply their topic. As committee members we can engage the student's topic--discuss, debate, expand--and move the process away from an interrogation to a conversation. In this way we teach students what a scholarly discussion is like and make them feel like they are participants in learning rather than residents of Guantanamo Bay. In this process the student will fully understand how well they did and be more likely to understand our concerns or our "delight" with their work.

We can teach the intellectual process to students when we grade their papers, converse outside of lectures they are assigned to attend, and we can have outside class activities and even invite some to our homes. In every sphere mentioned we are teaching, sharing, listening and coming to a point where we are now "reasoning together" instead of solidifying the teacher/pupil asymmetry that is common in these relationships. At the same time by asking them to take on the role of scholars or at least students of intellect we create new boundaries of respect and a relationship of mentor/mentoree.

No doubt--and I stress this--not all students are interested in this relationship. And there is really little we can do about this if our invitations to go beyond the textbook and the classroom dynamics are ignored. The same is true when our own colleagues are more interested in shutting their doors and writing their books, planning their next lesson, or snoozing off in the comfort of their private space. Knowing this allows us to plan ahead. After all building community is about finding a group of people--students or colleagues--who have an interest in a particular topic or action. That is why there are "communities" and not just one community. Historian Richard Bushman argues that we all look for our "communities of scholarship," places where we feel comfortable sharing and learning. Without them we often feel isolated.

What about when you are in a place in which there is little interest in this? I have found myself in that situation for a mulitude of reasons: I'm Mexican, Mormon, liberal, conservative, feminist, anti-feminist, young, old, etc. Yet, I've found that there is still a way to make community even if it is a shifting one with students coming and going and colleagues participating and then fading way. That means that my community grows with me and around me there is an inviting environment and an attitude that says that my "space" is always open to the "wayfarer" who needs a stop over to recharge their battery or to find a helping hand.. We never know who will stay for a long time, who will come back periodically, and who will replicate that model of community somewhere else. Yet, we can be sure that in our community we provide a positive space in which learning, growing and friendship are valued. Through this process we mentor, are mentored, teach and are taught, comfort and comforted, but more important we live our lives as part of a larger intellectual community.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

A Difficult Life

Here's an interview with Junot Diaz the pulitzer-prize winning author. The short interview reminds us one more time the difficult life of those who engage the written word.

Sometimes things just don't come together the way you want them to, and you find yourself tossing things out or rewriting until you realize it "ain't going to make a difference" and then you toss it out.  I remember as a young boy rolling my eyes when i read that Hemingway wrote 30 drafts of his novels before he was satisfied. I would find myself doing the same thing when I wrote my scholarly books and they weren't even half as good as the Hemingway novels. Success in writing comes after miserable and at times torturous writing sessions that often leave you anything but happy. Those people who say they just "love everything about writing" are those who write little, write fluff, or the ones who use ghost writers. That is the case with many of today's television pundits who put out a book a year.

Recently, I dumped a collection of essays in the works for years. It was a project I wanted to do so badly, but after taking a hard look at what I had done, I decided it just didn't work. It was like casting a beloved grandchild out into the "cold and dreary world". At the same time, if we don't learn to make hard decisions about what is good and what is not about our writing we won't progress. As it is, we often let thing slip by. Surely I have done it and recently I read something by someone I admire very much who did just that. The post was simply not very good and I could tell he had not put in the time.

But enough about me. Enjoy--or maybe not--as you are reminded of the torture sessions that await that next great scholarly book, novel, short story, essay...idea.






http://www.nytimes.com/2012/09/30/magazine/junot-diaz-hates-writing-short-stories.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=edit_th_20120930