We had some good discussion last week about identity, difference, race, ethnicity, nationality, and much more, as we examined the results of our own Google survey. I've been thinking quite a bit about the interesting moments from our discussions, and considering how we should move forward in our class, based on the ideas we are reading and thinking about. A few significant points emerged from our discussions that I want to record and remember.
A few students emphasized that it is important to them to assert their national, racial, or ethnic identity. They suggested that they want others to know them not just by an ordinary identity category, or an assumed identity category, but by a particular, specific identity category. For example, a student might insist on being called "Jamaican" rather than "African-American" or "Black;" similarly, a student might prefer to assert her "Italian-ness" rather than being considered "just another American." What I took away from that (and this is echoed in materials that we will read) is that we as people want to be seen for who we are. That is, people are saying, "See me for who I AM. Don't see me for a category or something else–ask me who I am, see me as I define myself." As students/scholars, let's be accountable to that and to each other; let's understand that who we are recognized as is very important.
Another issue that came up is the tendency to avoid uncomfortable subjects, or more specifically, uncomfortable differences. In fact, I noticed that some of us wanted to erase or elide difference in some way. A few people pointed to the White/Caucasian American population as being "obviously American." In some cases, I found it really interesting that students felt like "other" nationalities or races were somehow more special, interesting, or extraordinary than the "typical White American" identity. Why is that, I wonder? Why would a White, American identity be considered "ordinary" or "typical"? Isn't there proof that the idea of a "typical" American is really a misnomer? It's possible that we want to blend into conformity and ignore our own ways of being "different" from others. While it is possible for some to ignore the broad spectrum of difference and diversity that exists in the American landscape, others don't have that luxury because they are visually "different," for example, or perhaps different in ways that can be "spotted" by others. I'm interested in how we might take this up as we discuss Nancy Cantor's piece.
Finally, as I read the broad spectrum of Writing Histories that you graciously posted, I made a good effort to connect what I was reading to what I was learning about you through class discussion and the Google survey. So I asked myself, what connections do I see across these different artifacts? In the Writing Histories, one (of many) theme emerged, which was that you are all here (in college) because you tried and tried again when you were completing the assignments your teachers gave you. You did not give up. You either gave the teachers what they wanted, figured out a formula for writing successful papers, or at some point just had to do your best and accept the possibility of failure. No matter what, though, somehow you all found a way to accept the American schooling model, to manipulate or survive within it, and succeed. As I look to our Wordle, from which the word "AMERICAN" emerges so prominently, I thought, yes, we are all somehow part of the American schooling system, and we accept how it works. A good number of people described in some way or another that they are a part of that system despite any burdens, fears, barriers, impediments that you may have brought to that table. Not too many of you "bucked the system" or fought any of those teachers who gave you red marks, "Fs", "Cs" or dirty looks. Likewise, when faced with negative peer feedback on your writing, you often described backing down, or feeling like you'd learned a lesson. While I noticed a palpable anger or frustration over that kind of rejection in some of your descriptions (more from teachers but less from peers), I also noticed the lack of any power you had or felt to respond in kind. I'm not sure what to do about this. While I am glad that you made it here and are able to go to college because you did not "buck the system" (congratulations), I also wonder what kinds of difference are ignored, erased, silenced by our American schooling system, and by the ways in which writing is taught. (And it should be noted that I wonder about perpetuating such a problem as a writing teacher.) It makes me curious about what we don't see, who or what gets silenced among classroom walls and essay formatting rules. In what productive ways should we or could we seek opportunities to push against this?