QCQ #7

     I find critical theory and cultural studies the most fascinating of all the disciplines within English studies, and I think it’s no coincidence that as I prepared for this week’s class, I was able to better envision my path in graduate studies (!!!). I see many opportunities for teaching, learning and activism within critical theory.  For example, one goal I have is to foster a habit for critical reading within my students. It’s important to think of this kind of critical reading as a way to view the world rather than as an isolated activity  or “unit” because considering different points of view in depth is one of the most relevant literacy skills a student can learn.  Elias describes the purpose of critical theory and cultural studies as investigating how cultural trends, artifacts and “art [are]... mirror[s] of a society’s values and power structures and a site where alternatives to oppressive social systems can be formulated” (226). So many students and adults do not read this way and simply take for granted the superficial value of the information they encounter daily. Thus, critical literacy is the foundation of a democratic education.

    One of the most popular arguments I’ve heard against the practice of critical theory deals with the sacred aesthetic and ethical meanings of a text; however, from my critical studies, I understand that I can appreciate a text’s use of language and its ethical appeals, as well as understand how my culture and text’s culture have helped shape what I favor and prefer. As a student in Intro to Texts with David Jones in 2007, I created a “mystory” project based on my question about whether or not I could still enjoy reading Hemingway while also identifying myself as a feminist.  I came to the conclusion that I most certainly could because I began to understand the different lenses through which I could interact with texts. Another point raised by Elias in the her chapter that surprised did not surprise me were that some opponents to critical theory “argue that it attacks Western Values” (236). I think I most definitely fit in with the radical critical theorists who respond, “‘Yes, we do.’” True that.

In working with teenagers who are by definition rebellious,  I feel I have a lot of potential for sharing critical theory practices in my classroom. Many teenagers I know would agree “America’s melting pot is not desirable, and never existed anyway in the extremely race- and class-conscious culture of the United States”” (253). However, I feel I am not yet savvy enough to facilitate thriving discussions on racial power and privilege and sometimes feel self-conscious initiating such discussions  in my classroom. Perhaps I am reticent because I am the teacher-in-power forcing them to have this conversation. Or perhaps I have not yet fully explored my feelings about my own race and privilege. Probably both and more.

Peggy McIntosh’s article speaks to me with immediacy.  I think like many teachers I’ve thought I am teaching for social justice when we books with slaves. But really I have barely scratched the surface. I have not done enough to discuss today’s quieter dysfunctions and micro-aggressions of racism, and how privilege, according to McIntosh, can be “distinguish[ed] between earned strength and unearned power conferred systematically….[how] unearned power can look like strength, when it is, in fact, permission to escape or to dominate...or not to listen” (96). I don’t want to make caucasian students feel guilty; I want to introduce these discussions as tools for becoming better readers and people. Last year I taught Octavia Butler’s Kindred for the first time to my 9th graders. That summer I had convinced my department it was a good fit and especially needed due to the lack of women authors and authors of color represented in our collection.  However, I got stuck when the students didn’t respond favorably to the text, and rather than taking time to reflect on why and sharing this reflective practice with the students, I hurried through the rest of the unit.  This year I am not sure about teaching the novel again, but as I read more critical theory, I realize the literature and the theory gives us a vehicle through which to explore ideas we might not access or verbalize otherwise. These discussions can become more productive with more practice. For example, Elias cites the theory of “double consciousness” from W. E. B. Dubois as a way to describe and “characterize...the cultural position of minority groups and women in the United States” (254). While this is not a new theory by any means, it will be for my students. We apply it Kindred’s main character Dana and her conflict of time warping between a life as a young writer in1970s America and life as a house slave on a 1850s Southern plantation. We could also investigate the double standards of Dana’s toxic relationship with Rufus, her dependent, distant ancestor, and rapist.  Using the theory of double consciousness if one way I can invite my students in engaging in critical discussions in a structured way, which can eliminate another silence.

    Something I’ve had no trouble speaking about since eighth grade is my passion for ripping apart advertising.  I remember reading the anti-consumerist young adult novel The Gospel According to Larry and discovering the magazine Adbusters. I thought I was the most subversive 13-year-old ever.  Once again, deconstructing advertising and mass consumerism are ideas I can easily adapt to a high school English classroom and might even practice the “sensationalism” to which some critics slam. However, now that I’ve read about cultural studies more broadly, I have some questions about ideas that seem trickier. Elias describes Clifford Geertz’s work as including, “the idea...that there is no “right” way to organize a social system...the other human sciences cannot impose interpretive meaning on a society from outside of its own meaning systems” (260).  If I am an American feminist scholar and disagree with the practices of genital mutilation in African countries, do I have a fair argument against this cultural practice? According to my reading of the Geertz’s idea, I do not have ground to stand on because I am criticizing a social system of which I am not a part of. Therefore, how often and in what ways do practices and methodologies within critical theory and cultural studies contradict each other? How do I make practice use of contradictory practices and methods if I wish to intervene as an activist?

    Lastly, I think it’s important to think about the practical ways critical theory and cultural studies can influence our daily choices and lives. Brummett offers discussion of how “critical studies acknowledges that power is often secured through the more traditional routes of elections and physical force. But within..there is also an awareness..that power is seized and maintained in other less obvious ways (88). One of these implicit ways power is seized and maintained is Gramsci’s concept of hegemony, which Elias describes, “hegemony operates in popular culture that is generated by the whole of civil society and in which the oppressed willing participate” (259).  Thus, I can work with students in identifying examples where they can make more informed choices instead of following through with hegemonic brainwashing.  Brummet encourages interventionism, in which one participates and “gets...involved in problems in order to change the world for the better. A critic wants to step into the lives of his or her readers and give them ways to see and experience the world differently” (89).  Brummet goes on to argue that as a critic, you can’t help but intervene through texts, and I think about today and YouTube, where so many texts participatory and fan-based.  For example, all of the spin-offs of “Shit White Girls Say...to Black Girls” (I’m not sure of the original video that introduced this trope) that raise awareness about micro-aggressions and other seemingly harmless uses of stereotyping from everyday language and conversation.  Obviously, many people are creating these videos and parodies of these videos to intervene, and many people are posting in the comments sections and sharing the videos via social media. But hopefully for most who seek to intervene, merely “liking” such a video on Facebook isn’t enough.