The Washington Post has a recent story quoting part of Emily Smith’s speech when she received the 2015 Donald H. Graves Excellence in the Teaching of Writing. Smith, a Language Arts teacher, changed some of the texts that her students read after a student challenged her. The student said she “couldn’t understand because [she was] a white lady.” Her privilege as a white person, she admits, did hinder her understanding–and she points out that most teachers are white and not representative of the student body. Nevertheless, she could offer empathy. After this challenge, she changed how she taught. She still taught students how to write and how to annotate poetry and songs, but she used new texts to teach these skills. She used texts that students in her “urban” school wanted to look at and that resonated with them: Latino culture, the Syrian crisis and migration, and their life struggles. They have also worked with StoryCorps podcasts. She describes her motivation (and calls us to action):
So as I stand here today I can declare that I am no longer a language arts and social studies teacher, but a self-proclaimed teacher of social justice and the art of communication with words.
Looking back, I think that my prior hesitation to talk about race stemmed from a lack of social education in the classroom. A lack of diversity in my own life that is, by no means, the fault of my progressive parents, but rather a broken and still segregated school system. Now that I’m an educator in that system, I’ve decided to stand unflinching when it comes to the real issues facing our children today, I’ve decided to be unafraid to question injustice, unafraid to take risks in the classroom — I am changed. And so has my role as a teacher.
I can’t change the color of my skin or where I come from or what the teacher workforce looks like at this moment, but I can change the way I teach. So I am going to soapbox about something after all. Be the teacher your children of color deserve. In fact, even if you don’t teach children of color, be the teacher America’s children of color deserve, because we, the teachers, are responsible for instilling empathy and understanding in the hearts of all kids. We are responsible for the future of this country.
So teach the texts that paint all the beautiful faces of our children and tell the stories of struggle and victory our nation has faced. Speak openly and freely about the challenges that are taking place in our country at this very moment. Talk about the racial and class stereotypes plaguing our streets, our states, our society. You may agree that black and brown lives matter, but how often do you explore what matters to those lives in your classroom?
Her goal is to examine stereotypes and their effects, to examine issues important to her students, and to talk about our national struggle. So how does this work for teaching about an ancient civilization? What strategies can use to respond to Emily Smith’s call to action?
The more I thought about this question, the more I realized that Matt Ballou, an art professor at Mizzou, had an answer in his blogpost: “Maintaining Momentum For Change At Mizzou” which I quote in its entirety:
One of the big issues that has come up in the days following the protests is what can be done to keep the momentum going. The protests and interventions that took place this semester are intertwined with a huge number of categories, among which are:
- Race and gender.
- The rights of all students and the proper remuneration for graduate students in particular.
- The failures of a business mindset in a university setting.
- The responsibilities of administrators to deal with racial and gender-based discrimination.
- The necessity of recruiting, mentoring, and retaining students and faculty of color.
- The proactive development of the University of Missouri as a place where students and faculty of every kind can feel safe, heard, and valued.
We’ve got a long way to go. The national media certainly pigeonholed the protests and reduced the reality of what is, and has been, happening at Mizzou down to overly simplified binaries. They wanted to pitch free speech against racial tension. They wanted to make it seem as if the grievances that were being aired amounted only to vapid temper tantrums of spoiled millennials. They cast the reality of racially-based aggression as fantasy. They collapsed over two years of issues into a couple scattered spats about imagined racism. All of that was wrong.
So in the wake of all of this, how are we to be clear about the problems we face, the progress we’ve already made, and stay the course on the work yet to be done? These were the sorts of questions Dr. Maya Gibson had in mind a couple days ago when she posted on her Facebook wall. I met Maya at the Wakonse Conference in May of 2015, and that was one of the most compelling aspects of the event. Getting to hear from her then, and having the pleasure of a few interactions with her since then, made me want to add my voice to the others who were posting their answers on Dr. Gibson’s Facebook wall. I decided to post the questions Maya asked and my answers here to get a chance to express these thoughts out beyond Facebook.
Maya Gibson: Dear white MU friends and allies: what do you think MU could do to make it a more welcoming place for black people (students, faculty, and the COMO community)?
Matt Ballou: One of the main things I have been doing is curating the canon of art history and art-making techniques. Rather than defaulting to 12 or 15 dead white males, I strive to show the work of artists in ways that empower my students. That means showing artists of color, artists of underrepresented genders and gender-expressions, and artists of different abilities and disabilities. That means talking about these examples as Artists and Thinkers, not as some label or hyphenation that could be used to disqualify their contribution. Students need to see themselves in the classroom, in the examples that are presented in the classroom. They need to know the possibilities for THEM.
I don’t view this as fulfilling some quota – I see it as part of the central aims of my work as an educator: to provide and advocate for ACCESS. Most of my students are female; they deserve to see the true breadth of approach to art-making that’s out there and know the significant contributions of women throughout time.
I could keep going… I think this is what I’m trying to do in the classroom to keep the movement going. When they see the institution respecting people they relate to and who look like them, they can believe that the institution – or at least ME – is on their side.
MG: Thanks, Matt. If you can keep your list going, I would encourage you to do so. I am learning and I hope others are too. What are specific things you do to make Mizzou a welcoming and safe place for black students, faculty, and the greater-MU community? I love that you are proactive in the ways in which you shape and recreate the canon for your students. You’re actively resisting the model of euro- and ethnocentrism that comprises so much (western) art pedagogy. We have that problem in music, too. I also have to say that I greatly appreciate the way in which you’ve advanced a notion of diversity writ large. Do you encounter resistance, and if so, how do you handle it?
MB: In terms of specific things, here is one big thing:
I always try to engage with others in such a way that they – and anyone observing the interaction – believe I think they are real. One of the biggest issues I have with most discussions in the public sphere and in the media is that they can so easily dilute the REAL lives, REAL experiences, and REAL perspectives of REAL people. So whether it’s informal – walking past an acquaintance on the sidewalk – or more formal – in a critique session in class – I want to concretely show that I believe in the truth of others’ existence. This means, for example, thoughtfully building on the comments of my colleagues of color during a graduate review. That may seem small, but it shows my white students that I affirm the things my colleague is saying and it demonstrates for my black/minority/female students that I listen when an African American woman speaks. They can see clearly that I hear that voice. It may seem little, but this sort of courtesy does, I think, make a difference.
Obviously it’s complex, but I think the idea I shared above about curating the canon and then following that up with visible positive engagement with my colleagues and students helps create an environment where welcoming other voices and actually hearing them can build a safe space and a more legitimate learning space.
In general I don’t personally get resistance. I think that’s a reflection of my privilege. I’m a pudgy white dude who looks semi-homeless half the time; no one questions the legitimacy of what I say or how I look. But I have heard about a number of situations where the appearance and ability to communicate of my female and minority colleagues have come under question. And that’s bullshit right there. When I talk about black artists, no one questions. But I have known of situations where black colleagues of mine have been accused of being shrill or having an ax to grind when they bring up the exact same artists in the exact same sort of situation. That’s bullshit. So my job is to recognize that difference between my experience and their experience and state my support for them. They didn’t do anything wrong, yet students felt it appropriate for them to give these educators a hard time. That’s bullshit. So, yes, there is resistance… We need to be vigilant.
Another thing I’ve tried to do is speak to my students – the majority of which are female and many of which are minorities of various sorts – as if they know what they are doing. They are used to professors talking down to them. I don’t do that. Some times they really don’t know what they are doing but they need someone to look at them with respect and ask them questions and make observations like they ARE already accomplished. And THAT will go a long way toward them actually becoming accomplished. This is exactly what happened to me. My main professors treated me like an artist and thinker long before I was actually there. And that’s why I have had some success. So I pay attention to my students in such a way that they hear the message that their lives are important and they can do this thing I’ve set before them.
MG: Thank you for seeing, acknowledging, and recognizing me, which is what I want more than anything. I have grown weary of being negated, silenced, and rejected by the majority, some of whom are so-called, supposed-to-be colleagues. Thank you for modeling for students how to treat people. Thank you for slapping the mess out of my hand when I raise it (at least it’s grounding). In short, thank you for being you.
I realize that this is just one conversation among all of the ones that have happened in and around Mizzou over the last semester. I hope that in some small way my clarification of my own attempts to be an educator who advocates for his students can help. God knows we don’t need more white dudes mansplaining, but I wanted to honor what I saw as Dr. Gibson’s serious and heartfelt request to her white colleagues. The primary thing I have learned throughout all of this is that LISTENING is one of the primary ways I can be an ally. Over and over I’ve seen Maya and other African American friends say “LISTEN” when the cacophony of viewpoints swirled up, when weird racist stuff crowded in and fostered disunity. Listen. Hear.
Listen. For me, part of listening well and preparing myself to hear well is having a strategy. What I wrote in response to Maya’s questions above amounts to my strategy as an educator to create a space for listening to my students and hearing their perspectives. LISTEN.
Let’s start now, and listen to Nina Simone…
A lot of this post rung true for me, which is why I quoted it in full, but the idea of expanding the canon (and why it is important) comes through in both Ballou’s post and Smith’s speech. So what ancient texts and documents can we use to expand the ancient canon?
- The books of Macabees, Philo, and Josephus, and ancient remains of synagogues show the Jewish experience — rather than just the frieze celebrating the conquest of the Jews on the Arch of Titus
- Sappho, Sulpicia, and other female poets offer the voices of women — these could be paired interestingly with poems like Catullus’s elegy or Ovid’s Heroides or Art of Love to discuss perceptions of women
- Plato’s Symposium, Athenian ideas of pederasty, and other love poems and stories offer a different construct than the modern hetero-, bi-, homosexual spectrum.
- Funeral monuments, Greek novels, and Petronius’s Satyricon offer literary glimpses into the lives of poorer people rarely attested in our literary sources
- Archaeological remains from any region show the non-Roman, non-Greek cultures that the Romans and Greeks interacted with, and dominated
- Martyrs’ stories, the Church Fathers, and discussion of ancient churches can offer a contrast to paganism — similarly discussing paganism can offer a contrast to many students’ modern experiences
Carefully guided discussion and writing assignments paired with these texts or material culture are another way to expand the canon so that it incorporates more view points. You could even ask students what topics or parts of life they want to hear about or are more concerned with. Do they want to learn about ancient sexuality? engineering? economics? race? social status? imperialism? daily life? love? family? travel? holidays? religion? What drives them? What will pique their interest?