Imagine you teach literature (not a stretch for many of you). Now imagine you have a student who’s super pious and often writes about how the texts you select feature filthy, immoral women who aren’t following God’s laws and instead choose to “spill into the volatile meaty mire of raunchy, distasteful choices” and “dip their pale toes into the dark pool of lusty promiscuity.” You’re torn between “ew” and “screw you” on this one.
One week, this imaginary student (perhaps appropriately on some level, for once) feels horrified by your reading assignment, Joyce Carol Oates’ shocking story “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?”. If you haven’t had the terror, you can read it here and come back to the Whatsit afterwards.
If you must deny yourself the juicy richness of the actual text and get on with the post and your workday, here’s the stripped-down plot: Connie is a 15-year-old nymphet who’s just discovering her developing sexuality. She makes out with boys when she can and thinks her family is dumb and listens to pop music like a religion. So far, pretty normal. One day while her family is at a barbecue, a seemingly cool guy comes to her house in a gold jalopy and tries to convince her to go for a ride with him, and while she’s flattered by his flirtation at first, she starts to notice that he’s kind of old and kind of scary. She refuses and he begins to reveal that he knows way too much about her. He makes enough threats and exerts enough inexplicable power that ultimately she has no option but to go with him. The story ends ambiguously, but it’s suggested that he takes her out in a field to rape her and possibly kill her. Tra la la. The end.
Granted, it’s not uplifting; it’s terrifying. It’s hard at first to see what’s redeeming in this text, though I try to work through this with my students because I do see mighty cultural value in examining what the story implies about female sexuality and social pressure. Needless to say (I think), it’s meant to upset and, to some degree, offend the reader. Many (like the aforementioned student) read this as a fable whose moral is “Look what happens to slutty girls—they get what they deserve.”
I do not. (Big shocker.) I prefer to read it as a commentary on the many ways American culture sends young girls mixed messages about owning their sexuality (and then punishes them if they actually try to). In support of this, the scariest line in the story is the thug’s injunction that women really have no other options: “’Be nice to me, be sweet like you can because what else is there for a girl like you but to be sweet and pretty and give in?—and get away before her people come back?’” Awful. Awful. The girls are scared and the boys are enraged when they read this, but not necessarily for the same reasons I think they should be.
However, this post is not about reading the story; it’s about reading an exam about the story.
So now let’s go back to the religious student, who didn’t say anything when I (okay, surprise, it was me) was talking about the story, but did get up and walk out towards the end of class. A week later, he wrote this on his final exam when identifying the text:
This story is sick, enough said; but of course, I have an analytical response to compose; so here it is; enjoy, as much, hopefully, as you enjoyed reading the twisted malevolency that unravels itself before you; the vein covered rod of crude distastefulness shoving deeper down your gagging throat, each breath-stolen word fertilizing the virgin mind.
Yes. Well. I see.
Okay, so would you read that as a description of what the story does to the reader, or of what I should feel while reading his exam as punishment for being disgusting enough to think the story is worth assigning?
Given, his language is just convoluted enough to make it unclear whose gagging throat features in the adverb phrase modifying the verb “shoving”; is that “you” the universal “you,” the reader of Oates’ story, or “you,” his specific English teacher who is reading this exam after forcing him to read something so offensive? And are you really gonna ask him to clarify his terms and correct his syntax at this point when he might be threatening to go all Deep Throat on you but you’re not sure, or are you just gonna write a quavery “B” at the top and hope he doesn’t ever come to your office again?
Let me just add that assigning “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is not an edgy move for a freshman English teacher. It’s anthologized in every single Intro to Lit text out there. Whenever I teach it, half the students have already read it in high school. It’s not like I’m pushing the boundaries of academic freedom with this one. That’s not to say the story itself is any less edgy or upsetting as a result; it’s just that I’m not really going out on a limb here by typing it onto the syllabus. It’s a scary story, but it’s become mainstream. I wonder how many other students (and parents) across the country have similar objections to it because they don’t understand how it might be valuable to be offended like this.
I often think about how much I “owe” my students in terms of offending them (and not). Obviously, I know the “right” answer is that they are in college to have their preconceptions challenged, to be pushed outside their comfort zones, and all those other things that became such wretched clichés because they’re really true. When I assign gay-themed literature, for example, it usually gets back to me from one student or another that some of their classmates are talking about how “gross” it is that I assigned it. Sometimes they’re vocal or giggly about it in class, and I’m nothing but intolerant of their intolerance. It offends me.
On the other hand, sometimes if a book has graphic sexuality (so far it’s only been heterosexual), I offer students the option to find out where the juicy bits are in case they want to skip them. Amazingly, some always do. Should I be offering this option? Should I make it an option with anything that might be deemed “offensive,” then? Am I forcing my own politics onto them when I refuse to give them the option to consider things offensive that I don’t find so?
Lots of questions here. (Aren’t there?) I am not interested in making anyone feel as though a vein-covered rod of crude distastefulness is being shoved down his or her gagging throat. Ever. If I inadvertently make someone feel that way, where does my obligation to broaden their horizons butt up against my obligation to respect their beliefs and boundaries?
And when am I allowed to be offended? To me, his exam was so much more offensive than the original story that I actually felt threatened—can I be offended by his offendedness? Or is that intolerant too?
To me it seems clear that the “you” in the student’s response is the person reading his exam (the professor) and no one else; ergo, it is a threat of violence, albeit expressed through metaphor.
Since both of you are adults who can make choices (his, to express his objections/reservations to the literature bravely, face-to-face and articulately with you, not like a coward rapist; yours, to address his comments in class and guide his experience of the text as far as is appropriate), it also seems clear to me that you made the right choice and he made the wrong one. From the sound of his prose, he’s a fairly bright guy who loves the sound of his voice and still hasn’t learned that the world doesn’t revolve around him. That translates to a problem respecting others–authority, and female authority in particular. You can believe he would never, ever write this on an exam for a male professor.
What’s the right thing to do? I’m not entirely sure, but if it were me, it’d be out of my jurisdiction as soon as he made the (implicit) threat. I’d pick up that exam gingerly, like you would a bag of flaming dog poo, and deliver it to the Dean of Students.
ditto rachel — he wouldn’t do this to a male professor; it needs to be turned over to your chair or dean. any other interactions with him should be well documented.
i find it interesting that his christian sensibilities are so ruffled yet he obviously has a turn for writing the worst kind of porn.
“I’m such a good Christian I’m going to have to rape you.”
I agree with Rachel on this. I would talk to your Dean about this and I also agree that he would not do this to a male professor. It is a job to teach and guide these srtudents. You are right when you challenge them and open them up to new ideas and perspectives. I also agree with Bryan here, if he is claiming to be a Christian yet being so offenseive in his comments. I don’t think you did any thing wrong. I don’t think that story is to get riled up about.
Kids often fail to understand the power of their words and actions. Was this a real threat, or was this like a stupid teenager screaming “I hate you and I wish I was never born!” to a pair of heart-broken parents? As the teacher, you are in a good position to understand if this sentence is part of a larger pattern of behavior that poses a real threat, or if this student simply took from the text the wrong lesson — that an author can get away with saying anything so long as he/she veils the material in enough layers of poetic ambiguity. If the student has given off any other cues that might suggest he is a real threat, I would take Bryan and Rachel’s advice. Otherwise I would consider the following:
Look at the student’s schedule and major, and find a different teacher that the student will have to work with. Explain to the other teacher what happened, and how you perceive the student’s response to be a thinly veiled threat. Schedule a meeting with the student and both teachers. Explain to the student that whether he meant it or not, his response to the question created a REAL sense of threat. Have the other teacher confirm to the student that this perception of threat is rational, and that anyone reading this response would react to it the same way. Place the intervention in the context of recent acts of violence by disturbed students, and how many of these acts were anticipated by similarly dark writings and veiled threats. Explain to the student that you don’t perceive him to be such a threat, which is why you chose to speak with him directly, rather than turn his paper over a dean or the dept. chair.
Kids say and do some stupid things. My wife, who teaches high school in South Central Los Angeles, receives a handful of threats from students every year. Most of them are pure bluster, stupid kids failing to understand the power of their words who bring street culture into the classroom. If she has any doubt about a student’s real intentions, she files the report, and the student’s education gets derailed, and the kid often goes to jail (parole violation). But more often than not she has an intervention, usually with the student’s parents, and the student learns something that will help him/her grow up.
Kids have a lot of growing up to do, and I guess you have to decide whether or not helping them out in this respect is part of your job. Handing the paper over to an authority, and walking away from the problem would be a whole lot easier, and it is definitely the ‘cover your butt’ answer. But it will also have the most serious consequences for the student, and it will leave a scar that he will carry for the rest of his life, probably making him even more intractable in his disturbed views than he already is.
Rachel and Bryan have some good advice, but I just thought you ought to know that there are other choices. As a former ‘stupid teenager’ I am grateful for a couple of second chances that I received that gave me enough breathing room to grow up (I was more of the property-damage type of idiot, and never threatened personal harm to anyone).
We are talking about college students, right? Legal adults? Who consisently demand not to be treated as “kids”? Colleges have been grappling for years with the problem of whether or not to act in loco parentis; in this case, it appears to me that the student intended to cause harm, and so cannot hide behind some notion of youthful ignorance. He said what he did precisely because he was aware of the force of his rhetoric.
I’d also like to add that involving someone like the Dean of Students, who has the expertise and the resources (academic advisors, counseling services, etc.) to follow up with the student, is hardly “walking away from the problem,” nor is it easy. But this is so much more than a pedagogical problem. College professors specialize in academic disciplines and have access to a broader campus support system for troubled students. I doubt the same is true in South Central high schools.
Scary. Some people (e.g. Evangelical Christians) believe school should not be mind opening. The student’s reference to “fertilizing the virgin mind’ shows he agrees.
I heard an interview on Fresh Air a couple years ago with Michael Farris, the founder of Patrick Henry College. He’s a big home school advocate and founded the college just for Christian home schoolers. It was really shocking how important it was to him that his children not be exposed to the general public. Most shocking to me personally was when he relieved he had attended my alma mater for a year and left because he had started to be corrupted by ideas.
Stephanie and I talked about this quite a bit at the end of the semester, debating the student’s intention. First of all, his sentence is so convoluted and so poorly constructed that it’s impossible to say for sure what he really intends it to mean (and it might not really matter, since it’s pretty much offensive across the board). However, it seems to me like he’s saying, sarcastically (of course)–he hopes you “enjoy” his essay exam, but then he adds, “as much, hopefully, as you enjoyed reading the twisted malevolency,” etc. The statement “as much as” here is when he shifts from referring to his essay exam to the story itself, “the twisted malevolency,” suggesting that what follows (“vein covered rod,” etc.) is referring to the story, which he feels was forced down his throat. In other words, I don’t think he was intending to say that his essay is the veiny rod being shoved down “your” throat, but that the story is the rod being shoved down his. This seems like an important distinction–in one scenario, he’s being raped; in another, he’s raping “you,” the professor/reader. Still, he is clearly conflating the two, and again, the sentence is really too confusing to say determine exactly what he meant.
Anyway, this is all somewhat moot, because his reaction is incredibly inappropriate and offensive regardless, and I agree that he should have to discuss this with the Dean. Also, having had my own issues with crazy religious students who feel so aggrieved and so offended by the dumbest things (this past semester, in fact, a born-again student threatened me, as some of you know), my main response here is, what the hell is wrong with people?
I’m going to straddle the fence on this one.
Because I know and instinctively want to defend, in every sense, the author of the post I would agree that the student in question intentionally overstepped boundaries and should be reported/taken note of as a creep. If some clown wrote this to my wife a meeting with the Dean would be the least of his problems. My prejudice against uptight/repressed/potentially dangerous wannabe evangelicals (WWJD indeed) is a huge factor for me as well.
If I read this about an anonymous teacher, however, I would probably say that it was an uncomfortable and troubling exchange but part of what education and the teaching of literature can be about.
I agree with Jeremy, the prose is so tortured that it is difficult to figure out precisely what the student meant but I agree that his intent was to disturb and shock in the way that he claims to have been disturbed and shocked.
Stephanie raises great questions about the value of being offended but also about the role of the teacher in the process. A teacher can be offended, of course, but I would offer that we give up some of our “right” to be offended when we agree to be the one provoking people to think. I can talk down someone who says something offensive in the street but have to consider all kinds of academic freedom issues when confronted with near hate speech in the classroom. I am dealing, for the most part, with underage students in a public school setting so the in loco parentis grey area isn’t so much an issue but the idea of how much I am supposed to push and unsettle previously held ideas is still the same.
I admit to my ideology influencing my teaching and ideas that are counter to mine probably are subject to harsher scrutiny in class discussion or in the grading of essays. I can imagine that if my liberal humanist self was suddenly transported (via holodeck?) to a Patrick Henry College indoctrination center, uh, classroom that I would probably respond with some aggrieved responses myself. I like to think that rape fantasies would be off the table but what others might construe as blasphemy and/or sacrilege might be fair game.
Is part of the appeal of teaching the ability to push our own agenda? And should we be shocked when someone rebels against ideas and interpretations that make all the sense in the world to us? Again, the particular issues and methods in this example are troubling and should be called into question but in some twisted way isn’t this kind of over the top engagement what we would prefer over bland platitudes by bored kids telling us what they think we want to hear?
Last thing, I was taught the Oates story in high school with the Dylan song and Dern film as supplementary texts. And you wonder how my virgin mind got like this?
re: Rachel, #8
Many high school seniors are also legal adults who demand not to be treated as ‘kids.’ Hell, at 34, I am still acutely aware of a few areas where I could do some ‘growing up’ myself. A college freshman is a high school senior + 12 months. Many have no idea why they are in college, except that their parents would be upset if they were not. I teach sophomores and juniors at an art college here in L.A., and I am constantly amused and amazed by the range of social skills and maturity these kids put on display. I’m not one of those teachers that thinks of all of my students as ‘kids.’ I’m using that term here to emphasize that many of our students ARE kids, and that most juvenile behavior stems from ignorance rather than malice.
Would Stephanie’s student have written what he did if he knew that his paper would likely be turned over to an authority? Maybe he has that kind of self-defeating trait, common to psychos all around. Or it may be more likely that he is a stupid ‘kid’ with a lot of growing up to do. Stephanie is in the best position to make that choice. If I were in her position, and I felt that there was even the slightest chance that the student represented a real threat to anyone, I would take Rachel’s advice.
Alternatively I might just ask the kid to explain what he meant by his response (via email). This, at the very least, would satisfy my own curiosity about what is up with this kid. The fact that Stephanie would consider posting a snippet of the student’s response on a public blog rather than turn it directly over to a the dean/chair suggests to me that this might have more to do with Stephanie’s own curiosity about how other educators might deal with clearly inappropriate student behavior rather than a real sense of personal threat. I would seriously think twice before taking any action that could possibly turn a person’s world on its head. The student definitely needs for someone to tell him that his response created a problem that will not go away on its own. If Stephanie doesn’t feel threatened, then she has a real choice.
Knowing nothing of the student or the context beyond what is described in the post (which was wonderfully constructed, by the way, and made me late to a meeting because I was so wrapped up in it), I interpret his words to be threatening and inappropriate for an academic setting. I’d take the matter to the Dean of Students and let her decide what the appropriate course of action is.
As a high school student myself, I see where this student is coming from. Having just read the short story for the first time today I can sympathise with the feelings of disgust and horror that the student felt upon reading it.
In my own English class, we read books that come nowhere near to this story in subject content, that do, however, have strong sexual themes. I personally take no offence when reading and discussing these topics in class, however, I have been very surprised by the number of students that are; In honors classes none the less. In discussions, our class has talked about how when faced with anything new or challenging to pre-formed ideas, people tend to avoid and shy away from those things.
By college, one would assume that a student would have gained enough maturity to be able to look at a seemingly disgusting and perverted story analytically, but as shown, this is not the case. It really is too bad that some very smart, intelligent people cant see past their own prejudices.
Point taken, but what’s next? Will students read “A Rose For Emily” as an endorsement of necrophilia?
If he didn’t want to be faced with opinions outside his own views, he should be in a private Christian college.
The students remarks, though confusing, also seem angry and vicious. Is this just an offense of religious beliefs showing?
I agree that his essay requires a response. I would hope that it would be done in person and that Stephanie would be present but not alone with the student and that the goal of that conversation be for understanding and growth rather than only for discipline. He needs to face and own up to his words and actions in order to mature.
I can’t imagine practicing a sort of self-censorship to avoid challenging students or endorsing an abridgment of the curriculum to avoid controversy. In fact, I would endorse the use of controversial topics (with a degree of moderation) to stimulate some passion in students and to spur on critical thought outside of one’s sphere of knowledge. Growth may be uncomfortable for many.
While I might recommend documenting this incident and possibly reporting it, I wonder what patterns of behavior preceded this students’ immature response on the test. If there are no patterns of this behavior appearing previously, I might humbly suggest taking this as an example of a student not understanding the implied violence of the words.
I tend to see an instant defensiveness when young learners are encountered with many ideas outside their perceived moral or ethical experiences. New ideas, like change for many people, are often met with resistance and at times violence. This simply may be one of these times.
By the way, this was my first time reading the story. Very interesting and very challenging!
This comment is ultimately about how I happened to be listening to Dan Deacon’s “Wham City” (per BW’s review) concurrent with my reading of the linked JC Oates story and the way that the song really exacerbated the narrative’s timbre of inexorable terror…..so. I accidentally ruined Wham City.
But while I”m here, I should mention that in my (somewhat extensive) experience in dealing with fundamentalist-Christian-types, 2nd-person narrative statements such as the one written by your oh-so-outraged student are typical of the us-vs-the-world mentality espoused by serious Christian-fundamentalists: the breathless curse of righteousness coming down in histrionic condemnation of the heathen world. So, though I’m not a fan of your student (though also, to be fair, I see him an object of pity much more than as a threat, but, of course, he is only an abstraction to me), I don’t think his “analytical”-response is a pornographic threat, but instead is an oddly poetic, almost biblical statement of Righteous Wrath, as if from-god-to-infidels.
but, i.e., isn’t that all just a fancy way to paraphrase those religious folk (fundamentalists all over the world) who aren’t so troubled by rape when the woman deserves it because of her obvious sinfulness?
at the same time, the kid’s comment seems to have an awful lot of guilt over his relationship with veiny rods. (you’re so right to pick up on the biblical overtones in that term certainly.)
I agree with Autumn if is that easily offended he should be in a private school geared to his specific needs. I also find that being Mormon I have come across such zealots and they have a narrow way of looking at things and are the most resistant to change. Jeremy, I am sorry that a student threatned you. I hope that the student was punished. It is crazy that teachers should have to deal with this kind of craziness.
There is a huge difference between your assignment and his response. There is no guarantee against being offended, nor is it a crime. I’m not sure when we in this country began to think we have a right against being offended. This student sounds intelligent and I would assume that he would expect to be challenged and exposed to work that would inspire critical thinking. The purpose of education is to learn and explore. To live one’s life in a cocoon expecting to never be exposed to different views, opinions, lifestyles etc. is extremely shortsighted especially for a student enrolled in college level classes. If he is frequently offended he should initiate a little more diligence on his part and become familiar with the required reading prior to enrolling in a class.
The other side of this situation is the threat. Threats can be considered a crime. I agree with Rachel and find his statements to be a threat towards you. I think it would be appropriate for you to report the threat.
I graduated from a four-year, hard core American multi-denominational Christian academy, where I had a chance to meet many extremely religious people. From my experience, I know that most very religious Christians would not go to a regular college, most of them are homeschooled, and most of them would not read a book they consider inappropriate. As soon as they see the first inappropriate sentence, they shy away, speak to you in privet, and bring it up in a congregational gathering asking everyone to pray for the poor lost teacher. They would not offend. This particular student is not very religious at all, he knows you are very nice, too nice, and most likely would be scared or intimidated by the religious ambiguity of his writing. Religion is the best strategy, because teachers must be politically correct. He has not reached a point in his life when one understands that offending people is, actually, not cool. He also finds his writing brilliant, like many of us, who are just starting to write and have our Moms for audience. He would not only write that kind of stuff to a male teacher, but to a bitch female teacher either. In fact, there are probably a couple of female teachers in school, who intimidate the hell out of him. He is the kind of guy, who would smoke his Red Marlboros over the break, talk to me about Japanese heavy metal and about how he frightened his English teacher waiting for me to tell him forshizzel. He is not a threat. It’s up to you how to handle this depending on the outcome you desire. If you feel offended and need closure, you should speak to him, ask him what exactly he meant by that, look him in the eye, and tell him that you are neither anxious nor appreciative of his writing, but should you see more of that offensive stuff, you’d take this to the police and to the Dean, because you consider it a threat. You can tear up his writing, which would probably be most painful. I would give him the benefit of whatever doubt he deserves, because everyone makes mistakes and acts stupid sometimes, speak to him and warn him, and if it ever happens again, take action.
I would also make a disclosure in the beginning of each semester that we live in the real world, this class is meant to introduce various kinds of literature for the purposes of discussion, education and expansion of knowledge, and while you do not wish to offend anyone, you will introduce literature that some religious people might find inappropriate. You will warn them beforehand and will possibly give them a choice of another book to read. You will not tolerate any discrimination or offensive writing and will take that directly to the Dean, because, above all, it is your responsibility to the students to teach them respect and tolerance
Stephanie, I remember giving a presentation on this very story for the class I took with you. I had read the story before and was excited to engage in what I thought would be some interesting conversation with the class, especially given the fact that we had read pieces over the semester that I thought much more controversial than this story, and everyone had reacted in a very sophisticated manner, making compelling arguments without offense. I was shocked when, after presenting on the multiple meanings I saw within the text, a rather intelligent male student raised his hand and said, “Have you ever thought that perhaps Caddy is just getting her come-up-ins?” Ignoring the fact that this was a thinly veiled insult about my looking into things a bit too deeply, I couldn’t believe that this was the only comment that such an intelligent person could offer. I’m still not sure what to make of it because he certainly wasn’t just brining this up as a conversation starter–he really felt this was the meaning of the story. This occurance is obviously branded into my academic memory.
I never thought that this sort of circumstance was a pattern. Obviously the situation you’re discussing is much more extreme, but it’s strange to me that this story, in particular (and as you mention in your post), elicits such reactions. I definitely have to agree with Rachel on this one, as well, that a male instructor’s ability to assign more controversial material is much more flexible. I recall one of my instructors (and I’m pretty sure I told you this story), after assigning Harriet Jacob’s Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, made the comment that “Of course, slave owners f-ed the s out of their slave women” (without the censorship on my part). That comment is straddling no line whatsoever, but no one, to my knowledge, had any complaints, and I doubt he had any oral rape threats. I wonder what the result would be if a female instructor had said the same thing.
This has been very interesting commentary on this subject. Did you ever resolve the conflict
I am very late to this conversation (perhaps about 4 months) but I could not help weighing in because this is one of my favorite short stories – I think about it often. So much has been said about the exam and the creepy doppleganger kid – you have invited such a rich discussion that I have really nothing to add except a musing on the story itself.
I read this story as part of a class in both high school and college. I remember being terrified and competely immersed by the gradual dawning of the protagonist – the line about his hair, his boots sent chills. I was also in love with Oates’ language that was at once high lit with a pulpy vibe. I definitely remember some discussion on whether or not the girls were “asking for it” but Oates’ seems to be dangling that question as well (at least in the beginning) challenging our own identification, prejudice and sense of mercy. But this has all been said.
Here is my musing – I first read the story back in the late 70’s. I lived in a middling town in northern Iowa. I had heard about bogie men strangers and bad stuff that could happen but it was murky and grey. Reading this story again 25 year later, I now have images that flash through my head – thousands of them: the most recent being the hiker from last week with (evil) Nancy Grace grilling the hiker’s boyfriend on whether or not he ever thought the love of his life would be decapitated. As the mother of teenagers I get internet safety warnings, my sister cannot pick up my children at school, I can’t even walk into the high school without my driver’s license and a faculty destination. I channel surf in the hotel and see a miliion law and order episodes, serial killer bios, true crime shows. Although trouble has always been part of the human condition there seems to be evolving ways to get in trouble and increasing ways to document the trouble. In addition, reading the story as a parent is even more heartbreaking the reading the story as a peer to the protagonist.
Oates’ was a visionary, she wrote a snapshort as provocative and relevant as the day it was written. The story is a dazzling example of how a writer can capture experience so universal that it exists in perpetual immediacy – the most primitive part of us slowly unraveling into our future. We have established that your student was way out of line at best and scary at worst. This kid unwittingly ensures that we must continue to read and teach writers like Oates, they keep us wary and real in the world of our own creation.
I really appreciate all the thoughtful feedback on this post, y’all, and the advice. Thanks.
Ruben: I think your point that as teachers we give up the right to be offended to some extent is true. Like many of you point out, growing hurts and we have to expect some backlash when people are pushed beyond their comfort zones.
Miller: that student’s response to your presentation on the story is exactly what I mean: Connie gets what she deserves for not being religious (which the story does make explicit—her family’s secularism, I mean) and for “asking for it.” So many people read this as a fable, a cautionary tale, something to warn us how not to behave or we’ll get what we deserve. It’s so much more culturally complex than that. As PB so clearly states, the scariness of the story IS impossible to ignore; in fact, as many of you know, Oates modeled the antagonist after a real-life serial killer in Tucson who was going after pretty young girls and seducing them with his “coolness.” Of course these threats are real. Of course we should be careful. The question, I think, is how such aspects of culture got to be so sick and skewed that such things are commonplace, not how we should behave differently, exactly.
To me, the scariest people are the ones who are so religious that they feel justified in whatever they perform here on earth, overstepping “earthly laws” because they are doing it for a greater good, the divine law, and will be rewarded for improving humanity in the end (whether that’s with 34 virgins or a ticket into heaven). That’s how right-wing electioneers can justify falsifying results, in my opinion, and why a liberal will never “win” another election until the system is corrected. Of course liberals also feel their way is the “right way” for humanity, but there’s not often a higher injunction telling them they must kill that abortionist/fix that election/fill in the blank in the name of a religion more important than human law. That’s why Jeremy’s student threat was even scarier than mine (different one) last year, though both were horrific: his came from a religious student and mine did not. All bets are off when God’s on your side.
Anyway, with your suggestions I do plan to take this to the dean of students (I had already mentioned it to her but told her I wanted to speak with him myself first, which I will). He won’t be punished for it, but he does need to be informed that this sort of behavior isn’t acceptable, and I don’t think that’s too harsh. I doubt anything interesting will come of it—I assume and hope it will all be neutralized—but will keep you posted . . .
Sorry this is a bit of a late addition. I am a long-time lurker, first time contributor, so a bit slow off the mark. I was introduced to your fine site by Lisa P some months ago and have been reading with interest ever since.
This post has preyed on my mind since I read it the other day. I was talking with a friend about youthful misbehaviour last night. She has her 17-year-old niece staying with her at the moment and my friend observed that if she didn’t tell this kid that sometimes she behaved ineptly, who would? This observation made me think of this situation. Unfortunately, if you’re the witness to the bad behaviour, as an adult, your intervention is the only thing that might alter the behaviour. If someone doesn’t say No to him, how will he ever know? And under the circumstances, back-handed sexual aggression as for as I can see, it would surely be better to try to change things sooner rather than later. It is almost too easy to dismiss it as misguided youthful frothing. Maybe it would never go further than this, but maybe it will. As others have observed, it isn’t something you need to do alone.
The other thing that I have been thinking about is that in the scary and somewhat inconceivable situation where the positions were reversed, you can be fairly certain that he would have no qualms about registering his offence. Although I am not resident in the US and thus my ability to comment specifically on the climate in your schools and colleges is limited, I think it is worth remembering that people with extreme conservative views benefit greatly from more liberal, tolerant atmospheres that have been established in these institutions, and one hopes, in the wider community. People with extreme conservative views can express them freely and live in relative peace in communities that have a general policy of tolerance. But do you think that the reverse would be true, if people with extremely conservative religious and political views were solely in charge? It seems unlikely to me. I am imagining extreme circumstances here, of course, but it is this point that always upsets me with the intolerant religious. I am happy to extend them the courtesy of tolerance, but I know they would not do the same for me. And in a world where that would make a difference, my life would be severely brutalised. So I think that he has to be told that what he wrote could be interpreted in a very personal and distressing way. This is unlike the story he was expected to read, which was not, as such, about him. Whether or not he made an error in judgment or did something more sinister, his religious beliefs are not a defence for bad behaviour and I do not think you are required to tolerate that sort of disrespect. With freedom comes responsibility and he needs to know that.
Like all relationships, the student-teacher relationship is defined by power. The teacher has it, and the student doesn’t. Teachers may think class discussions are an open forum, but they’re not. The lit teacher gets to choose the texts, and then grade students on whether they respond well or poorly to what was chosen for them. This isn’t the basis for a fair relationship.. What the teacher sees as “challenging” her students may be just wielding power over them. Stretching and expanding a student’s narrow mind is a privilege the student gives the teacher, it should not be forced, indeed cannot be forced, although many a student is obligated to pretend that they have “learned” whatever the teacher was pushing.
this isn’t *exactly* on topic, but close enough: i thought the teacherly among us (at least) would enjoy this conversation about teaching A White Bear is weighing in on over on her blog.