I was in the faculty workroom doing paperwork
when Darrell walked in and slumped into a chair across the table from me. He looked dejected and worried.
This was unusual. Darrell, a retired career military man who incongruously
wears a utility cover with his customary shirt-and-tie ensemble, normally projects
a confident aura. Whatever was bothering
him, I didn’t want to pry. After
exchanging laconic greetings, we sat in silence for a few minutes even though
it seemed he really wanted to talk. Finally,
he spoke up.
“I got an email from my department chair.”
“Yeah?
What about?”
“She didn’t say. I’m supposed to see her Monday at four.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
“I don’t know…”
“Did something happen?”
“Well…” Darrell
described the uncomfortable reaction he thought he saw from a student in
class. Like most vets, Darrell is a
conservative. During his lecture that
morning he put forth his view that the War on Poverty had failed because of the
personal shortcomings of the people it was meant to help. The student’s demeanor became quietly hostile,
though s/he said nothing at the time.
Whatever it was, it left Darrell rattled.
“I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“I hope so.”
Darrell got up to leave.
“Good luck,” I said.
“Thanks.”
Catching up with Darrell a few days later, it
turned out the student in question had in fact made a formal complaint. The ensuing discussion with his chair was
awkward. According to Darrell, she
hemmed and hawed and said while faculty have academic freedom we have to be
sensitive to phrasing, student sensibilities, etc., etc.
Predictably, nothing came of the matter. I’ve been an adjunct instructor longer than Darrell. I see the department chair’s summons for what
it was: A passive-aggressive nonresponse to a student gripe about something which
does not merit disciplinary action but still looks to the student as if the
college has done something.
While I disagree with Darrell’s views on the
subject which brought the complaint, I believe in academic freedom. These ominous summonses have a chilling
effect. Common sense and good manners dictate
a sensitivity to the feelings of others.
However, I have found myself self-censoring and at times avoiding particularly
controversial topics even though I teach in a discipline which cannot avoid
these completely. The things I see
happening in academia do little to ease my anxiety.
And so I was unsurprised by an article in The Chronicle of Higher Education which encapsulates
the strife of the campus ideological wars. The piece documented an incident last fall at
the University of Nebraska. It’s a story
without heroes in which almost everyone involved behaved badly.
It began with a student who set up a table on
the campus quad. The student, a recent
alumna of a summer training program for young conservative activists, was
canvassing for a group called Turning Point USA. Perhaps you’ve heard of them; they’re the
organization behind the “Professor Watchlist.”
Turning Point encourages students to identify (or
target) liberal and progressive faculty.
Having the temerity to speak against corporate malfeasance, pointing out
white privilege and denouncing racism and sexism, favoring reproductive choice
and LGBT rights, promoting peace over war, suggesting that human activity just might be responsible for climate change, criticizing the Religious Right, and being
“anti-Israel,” among other sins, can get a proffie’s name on the Watchlist.
Back to our budding young activist. Having set up her table, a university
employee reportedly told her she could not disseminate propaganda in that part
of campus and that she would have to move to a predesignated free speech zone. Fair enough, though the employee’s use of the
word “propaganda” to describe the student’s activity could only further agitate
the rage junkies who would latch on to the ensuing incident as an
example of the lefty subversion of ‘Murican values.
Safely ensconced in the free speech zone, a passing
doctoral student and English instructor caught sight of the Turning Point
table. Outraged by its presence on what
she would later declare to be “her” campus, the instructor made up a picket
sign denouncing the student as a fascist.
Things went rapidly downhill. As she had been taught by her Turning Point
mentors, the student took out her phone and began recording the picketer. They began circling each other. At one point the picketer flipped off the
student on camera. She called the
student a “neo-fascist Becky.” She
denounced the student as a white nationalist and white supremacist. She swore at the student. Finally, the student began to cry.
This was a bit much for another faculty member
who had joined the anti-Turning Point picket.
She walked over and tried to comfort the student and gave the student
her email address, inviting the student to sit down later to talk about their
political differences. The student
packed up her table and left and the incident ended.
Except it really didn’t. Turning Point posted the video of the incident
to its website, which went viral. The tom-toms
sounded throughout the conservative jungle, and soon angry letters and emails
began arriving in the offices of Nebraska’s elected officials. The university president was summoned by the state
legislature. The instructor, a woman in
her late forties, was eventually suspended from her teaching duties as penance for
her public overzealousness. And our young
conservative? She’s become the Right’s
darling du jour.
This incident was a set piece with strawpersons
on both sides: The shrill social justice warrior shouting hyperbolic
slogans. The emptyheaded suburban Barbie
hostile to a multicultural America. Most
people are content to leave it at that.
Predictably, there has been little discussion of what this episode means
for campus discourse.
For me, the Nebraska incident exemplifies what
can go wrong when political strife in the larger society encroaches on academia. Both sides are consumed with a righteous
indignation. Neither acknowledges the
right of the other to express their views.
Making matters worse, the instructor’s confrontation with the student escalated
from a simple difference of opinion to a situation where a grown woman bullied some
poor kid to tears (something for which the instructor was unapologetic). As a result my distaste for everything
Turning Point represents conflicts with my deep-seated revulsion toward bullies,
tempered by a sour satisfaction in the knowledge that the student Right has its
own snowflakes.
It’s tempting to blame Donald Trump’s political
rise for the seeming resurgence of right wing Know Nothingism and the ideological
war of all against all, but the truth is that the current campus wars are an
extension of the social polarization of the last several decades. As an undergrad in the 1980s, I remember the
sniping over political correctness and speech codes on the one hand and the
monitoring of liberal professors by conservative groups like Accuracy in
Academia on the other, though this was more rumor than fact at my politically
quiescent regional state uni,
Even now, most educational institutions are
backwaters of social consciousness. It’s
surprising whenever any of the community college students I work with express any
kind of informed opinion let alone take a side on an issue. Last semester I was startled when, during an
unusually spirited classroom discussion of current events, a student declared
that the only answer to our problems was revolution. Several students murmured agreement. No one objected. I nodded gravely, simultaneously pleased and
unsettled. The discussion moved on. There were no repercussions afterwards.
Sometimes apathy works in your favor.
© 2018 The Unassuming Scholar
