This is a cross-post from Equality 101.

You know those days when everything just lines up perfectly and all your synapses start firing and things just connect? Yesterday was one of those days. It started with Adam’s thought-provoking post from yesterday and a conversation that keeps reoccurring with my students, continued during my grad class last night, and a conversation with Tim afterwards.

When I ask my students what they want to see from a teacher – and I do this often, whether because I sense the need that they need to talk, or because it fits in with a lesson we’re doing, or because they volunteer the information – they always start by saying that good teachers understand them.

I might be bold in including myself in the “good teacher” category, but I must ask a pressing question: Do we, as good teachers, really understand our students? I mean really understand them.

Most teachers were students that could stand – maybe even enjoyed – going to school. If we didn’t, there’s no way we would have moved on to get the college education required for a teaching certificate. We are the ones who could afford that college education in the first place, and if we couldn’t afford it, we had the means and resources to take out loans. We are the ones that want to instill our passion for learning into our students. We are the ones who had a passion for learning instilled in us in the first place.

Let’s face it: we are probably much more privileged than most of our students. I, for one, grew up in an entirely different situation than most of the students in my classes. Growing up, I experienced all sorts of privilege: white privilege, thin privilege, socioeconomic privilege… heck, I even had both parents living with me through high school. The list can go on and on, but just by growing up in a different place during a different generation in a different situation, I experienced life in an entirely different way than my students. So when they come in wanting to talk about their problems and issues and lives, the truth is that I can’t even come close to understanding.

I can sympathize, but I don’t think they want my pity. I can listen, which might be all they need, but they might need more. I can care, which I do – probably more than they know. But, honestly, I can’t understand.

I’m not saying that Adam’s student’s disposition after the incident excuses him from talking back to a teacher unnecessarily; we still need to hold our students to the highest expectations regarding academics and behavior. But I am saying that we could go a long way to acknowledge the fact that most of us truly don’t know our students, although we do our best to try to reach them, inspire them, educate them, and care about them.

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This is part of a series of posts about rhetoric and feminism.  I’ll be writing these responses every week as part of my graduate class about Topics in Rhetoric this semester, and I welcome any and all responses!

I’m reading Kenneth Burke’s idea of Dramatism correctly, it seems he is subscribing to Shakespeare’s idea that “All the world’s a stage,” and that rhetors are merely actors responding to situations.  As Foss, Foss, and Trapp discuss, Burke believed that motivation could be found by analyzing any given rhetorical situation using a dramatic pentad consisting of five terms: act, agent, agency, scene, and purpose (Contemporary Perspectives 200).  They state: “Motives and language are so closely associated that an analysis of a rhetorical artifact can point to a rhetor’s underlying motives” and suggest that Burke’s pentad is a mode of analysis of a rhetorical situation that will help find the motivation behind a situation.  Burke himself says: “These five terms… have been labeled the dramatistic pentad; the aim of calling attention to them in this way is to show how the functions which they designate operate in the imputing of motives” (Readings 160-161).  It seems, as his essay on dramatism continues, that he disagrees with Aristotle, who had been quoted as saying that human action is like sheer motion and, therefore, they can be ignorant of these five elements in the pentad; Burke continues on to refute this by saying that symbol-using animals, like humans, have motivation behind their actions and, therefore, are not participating in sheer motion.

This mention of symbols seems in line with what I.A. Richards spoke of in his essay, “The Philosophy of Rhetoric,” when he discussed the semantic triangle.  However, Burke seems less concerned with symbols, objects, and implied meaning and more in line with the Sophists (and Lloyd F. Bitzer, for that matter) and their focus on kairos or exigence.  Kairos and exigence were defined as the immediate need for any rhetorical situation, and Burke’s idea of motivation seems closest in line with these two terms.

The idea of the dramatic pentad and motivation are particularly interesting to me, as I just finished writing a draft of my capstone project analyzing interviews from bloggers according to Szwed’s five elements of a literacy event: texts, contexts, participants, functions, and motivations.  It seems that Szwed’s version is very similar to Burke’s, where texts are the scenes, contexts are either the agency or scene, participants are the agents themselves, and the function is the purpose.  As Foss, Foss, and Trapp state: “Purpose is not synonymous with motive.  Motive is the much broader, often unconscious reason for the performance of the act” (Contemporary Perspectives 202).  With Szwed, as well, the function and motivation are very different; function is equivalent with purpose, and motivation is the broader reason for the bloggers’ writing and inspiration.  As I was analyzing the bloggers’ responses, I noticed that the function and motivation often overlapped – they were writing to inform the world about feminist issues and values, and were motivated by the desire to inform the world about feminist issues and values.  It was clear, however, that each participant was motivated by personal factors; some wanted to be funny feminists, others wanted to carve out a space for themselves, etc.

If I were to have used Burke’s pentad to analyze the responses, I imagine the results would have been very similar.  The act in this rhetorical situation would most likely be blogging.  The scene would be very difficult to define because the nature of the internet is such that there is no one scene, per se, but many blogs, each being their own scene.  The agents in this case might be the feminist bloggers, or each individual blogger would be a single agent in any rhetorical situation, so the agency would be the use of computers and blogging platforms to compose posts and publish them, as well as the use of social networking to promote the blogs.  Finally, the purpose of the feminist bloggers would be to inform the world about feminist issues.  The bloggers are, then, motivated by a desire to inform the world about feminism, as well as by their own personal motivations.

Although not much changes when using Burke’s analysis, it is interesting to note how similar literacy theorists and rhetorical theorists truly are!

Works Cited

Foss, Sonja K., Karen A. Foss, and Robert Trapp.  “Kenneth Burke” Contemporary Perspectives on Rhetoric.  Long Grove, Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc., 2002. 187-232.

Burke, Kenneth.  “Dramatism” Sonja K. Foss, Karen A. Foss, and Robert Trapp, ed. Readings in Contemporary Rhetoric.  Long Grove, Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc., 2002.  160-170.

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OK.  I joined Tumblr.  Because I don’t have enough to do.

I don’t know how long I’ll keep this up or what it will turn into, but go ahead and follow me and we shall see.

http://samsanator.tumblr.com

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It’s International Women’s Day! Be sure to check out what’s going on at Gender Across Borders for #BlogforIWD, and at Equality 101 – we’re blogging all day about gender equality and education!

I know it is usually the way of the feminist blogosphere to focus on what needs to change and how far we have to go, but in honor of International Women’s Day this year, I’d like to focus on how wonderful it is to be a woman.

I am happy to be a woman, even more so now that I have found this wonderful community of feminists with whom I get to celebrate being a woman every day. I chose to get married, and I get to look at pictures of my wedding dress every day and giggle. If I have the ability and I choose to do so, I’ll be able to experience the miracle of pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood. I am afforded the opportunity to voice my opinions and fight for equal rights from my unique perspective as a woman and as a teacher. I get to experience the fun it is to wear high-heels and skirts and makeup, and I can also choose not to wear high-heels and skirts and makeup.

I get to have a special relationship with my mom that only mothers and daughters have. I get to have a special relationship with my friends that only girlfriends have. I get to be a strong woman role model for those around me.

I am fortunate and privileged, I know. But the more I surround myself with amazing women, the more fortunate and privileged I feel to be a woman and to interact with this amazing community every day.

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Last week in my Theory of Rhetoric class, I left very upset over an argument that ensued over the use of the word “retarded.”  It was brought up in one of my classmates’ responses inspired by Rahm Emanuel’s recent comments.  One of my other classmates actually said, upon hearing all of this: “You know, I was reading all of this stuff in the news, and the only thing I could think was: How retarded is this?!”  And all I could think or say was: “How insensitive can you be?”  Then, the typical arguments that people use when defending their right to use ableist language ensued.  (For a rundown of those arguments and excellent responses to them, read this post.)  I, of course, stood up for what I believe, which is that the use of the word “retarded” in this way is wrong, but it wasn’t enough, and the argument was cut short in the interests of time.

So, for this week, I wrote my response on just this, and I mean it to serve as an argument against the use of the word “retarded” to mean undesirable or useless and posted today to coincide with this event.  What follows is my response, meant to use the readings from this week to support my position and extend my argument.

I’ve been looking for a way to write about our discussion at the end of last week’s class about the word “retarded” for an entire week now, but haven’t found the words.  I think after reading I.A. Richards, I have a clearer sense of the argument that was posed.

Richards spoke quite a bit of words and their meanings in this reading.  It was stated in the readings that “Much of Richards’s perspective on rhetoric is concerned with how words come to mean what they do.  Richards sees meanings of words as central to a theory of rhetoric not only because they are essential components in the function of language but also because of the ways in which meanings serve the users of words” (Contemporary Perspectives on Rhetoric 24).  In fact, he seemed to think that words and their meanings were at the root of rhetoric and his problems with it.  He especially rejects the notion of several classical rhetoricians that there is one correct word with one correct meaning that is to be used for a given situation.   In his lecture on “The Philosophy of Rhetoric,” he states:

Most words, as they pass from context to context, change their meanings; and in many different ways.  It is their duty and their service to us to do so… We are extraordinarily skilful in some fields with these shifts of sense – especially when they are of the kind we recognize officially as metaphor.  But our skill fails; it is patchy and fluctuant; and, when it fails, misunderstanding of others and of ourselves comes in.  (Readings in Contemporary Rhetoric 5)

In other words, he argues that if we didn’t allow words to change their meaning if their contexts have changed, we would be doing language a disservice and allowing for more misunderstandings.  Therefore, from this quote, it might be said that Richards would defend the use of the word “retarded” with a meaning of unappealing or useless or undesirable because, over time, that is what this word has come to mean. This is the root of the problem with the word “retarded.”  There is a faction of people who want to allow for the meaning of the word to change from a name for a disability to another word for unappealing/useless/undesirable and there is a faction of people who say that this use of the word is offensive because people with this disability are not unappealing/useless/undesirable, and using this word in this way has negative implications toward people with this disability.

However, this argument only works if you can argue that the context surrounding the word has changed.  Richards also says: “Some words and sentences still more, do seem to mean what they mean absolutely and unconditionally.  This is because the conditions governing their meanings are so constant that we can disregard them”  (Readings in Contemporary Rhetoric 4).  The most important question, then, is this: Has the context around the word “retarded” changed enough to allow for a change of meaning?  I would argue no; the only reason the word “retarded” came to mean unappealing/useless/undesirable in the first place was because people with this disability were seen as unappealing/useless/undesirable, and the word was then used to describe anything that was unappealing/useless/undesirable.  The word is now widely used incorrectly in this way, and correctly used not only in a medical and educational context, but people and families do still choose to use the word when it applies to them.  The context has not changed, just the usage of the word, and the context surrounding the word does not change just because it is widely used in the wrong way.  Therefore, I believe Richards would argue that our contemporary use of the word “retarded” to mean unappealing/useless/undesirable is not correct.  Rather, the contemporary use of the word “retarded” is in and of itself a misunderstanding; it has been used to denote an incorrect meaning for so long that people have been led to believe that the context surrounding it has changed, but that’s not how it works for Richards, or for the world as a whole.  The context must change before the meaning can, not the other way around.

For more on the topic of ableist language, please refer to this excellent blog post written for a blog about disability: http://disabledfeminists.com/2009/11/23/o-language-again/

Works Cited

Foss, Sonja K., Karen A. Foss, and Robert Trapp.  “I.A. Richards.” Contemporary Perspectives on Rhetoric.  Long Grove, Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc., 2002. 19-49.

Foss, Sonja K., Karen A. Foss, and Robert Trapp.  “The Philosophy of Rhetoric: Lecture I.”  Readings in Contemporary Rhetoric.  Long Grove, Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc., 2002.  1-9.

Special thanks to meloukhia for help on this post!

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It’s been a while since I’ve written about my wedding, so I figured I should give everyone an update.  Planning has been pretty much put on hold until Tim and I finish our Masters degrees in May (although we’re going to a tasting on March 8, and I’m pretty stoked about tasting some great food!), but since Tim, my mom, and I are all teachers, we’ve been able to get a lot of stuff done on days off and vacations.  All we really have left are guest lists, invitations, and flowers.

Since I’m a pretty non-traditional person, it may surprise some people that we opted for a rather traditional ceremony and reception, but I think we’re putting some nice twists on it to make it our own.  What follows is what we have decided so far:

1. We are having a more traditional ceremony.  I’ll have the white dress and will be walked down the aisle by both of my parents as a symbolic gesture of combining families.  I will not be “given away,” however – no one will be asked “Who gives this woman to this man.”  And no one will be asked if they have any reason we should not be married.  I’m sure there are plenty of people with reasons, but I don’t want to hear them.

2. We are not writing our own vows.  I know, two English majors not writing their own vows?!  My problem with handwritten vows is that they never seem to sound very sincere, and I don’t think I’ll be able to speak loud enough to be heard anyway, so we’re opting for the “I do” vows, although they will be customized.  None of this “honor and obey” stuff.  And none of the “Mr. and Mrs. _____” or “man and wife” stuff, either.  I’m not changing my name, and I’m not going to pretend I am for the sake of ceremony and tradition.  We’re going to be introduced as “The married couple, Ashley and Tim.”  I like that.

3. My uncle – my mom’s brother, and one of the coolest people I know – will be officiating the ceremony.  He is not affiliated with any religion, so it will be more of a civil ceremony, but it will follow the traditional religious format so to speak.  We will also have a mix of religious and secular readings.

4. I’ll be walking down the aisle to The Beatles.  And that is awesome.

All-in-all, it is shaping up to be exactly what we want it to be, and with every decision I am more and more excited.  So, there’s your update!  If you have any wedding stories or suggestions to share, please do!  I’d love to talk wedding for a few days here.

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This is part of a series of posts about rhetoric and feminism.  I’ll be writing these responses every week as part of my graduate class about Topics in Rhetoric this semester, and I welcome any and all responses!

This week, a particular passage about passions from Hugh Blair’s Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres really struck my interest.  Excerpts of this passage are as follows:

We should observe in what manner any one expresses himself, who is under the power of a real and a strong passion; and we shall always find his language unaffected and simple. It may be animated, indeed, with bold and strong figures, but it will have no ornament or finery. He is not at leisure to follow out the play of imagination. His mind being wholly seized by one object which has heated it, he has no other aim, but to represent that, in all its circumstances, as strongly as he feels it… Beware even of reasoning unseasonably; or, at least, of carrying on a long and subtile train of reasoning, on occasions when the principal aim is to excite warm emotions….Warm emotions are too violent to be lasting. (The entire chapter can be found here.)

In my experience as an activist and blogger, this idea can be applied to any number of passionate speakers using their passions to do wrong.  However, this week, I’d like to use this passage to discuss Reverend Fred Phelps of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas.

Like many preachers, Fred Phelps is an incredibly passionate speaker.  The delivery of his speeches is, in some ways, memorizing. (In my opinion, this is more equated to not being able to take your eyes off of a car accident as you pass by it, but that’s neither here nor there.)  However, I feel if Blair were to see him speak, he would consider Phelps a passionate orator, and one to watch out for.  From what I understand, Phelps’ entire premise for his protests is that God condemns gay people to hell, and punishes not only people who are gay, but also people who are allies to the LGBT community.  Under his reasoning, 9/11, the school shooting at NIU, the violent murder of Matthew Sheppard, etc. all happened because of the gay people in the United States.

If you watch Phelps speak, you see his language is, as Blair states, “unaffected and simple.” (A good example of this is in a documentary titled Fall from Grace in which we see Phelps, his supports, and several other philosophers, evangelicals, etc. who disagree with his perspectives, which you can view here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5xHfDMGtD0 – Please know that there may be some offensive or triggering images and speeches here; this is simply posted as an example for this response.)  It is clear, even just watching him for a few seconds, that his mind is completely wrapped around the issue of gay people in our country.  His arguments are, therefore, singular and unimaginative.   He is certainly “not at leisure to follow out the play of imagination,” as Blair put it.

Blair ends this passage with a caution: “Warm emotions are too violent to be lasting,” but, unfortunately, Phelps has a relatively large following who seemingly devote their lives to protesting funerals, events, etc. that have anything to do with gay people or gay rights.  Why is this happening if we know that extremists such as this rarely prosper in the end?  If we have been formally warned since the 19^th century not to engage in this sort of rhetoric and those who do are not to be believed?

The only answer I can think of is that, for those who do not think critically about the arguments presented by Phelps, the logic works.  The passages he quotes are, in fact, in the Bible and, if you believe the Bible is the word of God, there is very little to argue with here.  However, if you dig a little deeper, or “follow out the play of imagination,” you will find what the other theorists in the video are discussing: These passages also state things like clothes made of certain fabrics should not be worn, and grain harvested from a farm with more than one type of seed should not be eaten, etc.  Contemporary religious figures like Phelps do not see the need to adhere to these rules, but do see the need to follow the rules regarding sexuality and preach that message passionately.

I believe the idea of a person speaking with much passion being a person without much rhetorical skill closely resembles Quintilian’s idea that a rhetorician must be a good man.  In this case, I would agree with Quintilian as well as Blair: to really use rhetoric, one must be using his or her oratorical powers for good.  I would not consider Fred Phelps a skilled rhetorician, no matter how many followers he manages to procure through his impassioned speeches.

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I’ve been thinking and reading a lot about babies lately.  This is definitely not because of some sort of desire to have a little mini-me (or, even scarier, a little mini-Tim! *kidding!*) running around.  I think it’s more of one of those things that once someone says something about it, you start noticing it everywhere.  And, trust me, people have been talking about babies.

It all started with the engagement ring.  Well, that’s probably not true.  But the comments directed at me definitely started with the engagement ring.  First, it was: “Oh, marriage and families are wonderful!  We are so happy for you!”  Second, it was a man in my grad class talking about his kids, then saying to me: “See what you have to look forward to?”  (And ended with me asking him why he would assume I will have children, and him telling me: “Because you’re a person and that’s what people do.”)  Then, it was “So when (not if!) do you think you’ll start having kids?”  Not long after that, it was a woman holding a baby, saying: “Soon this will be you!”

And don’t even get me started on what happens after people find out I’m not changing my name.  (“What will you do about the children?!”)

Assumptions bother me, and there are several assumptions going on here.  First is the assumption that I am even able to have children.  Honestly, I don’t know if I am able as I have never tried.  Second is the assumption that, assuming I am able to have children, I want them.  Third is the assumption that, assuming I am able to have children and I want them, that Tim wants to have children.

So let’s set the record straight: I don’t know. I don’t know if I want children, and I do know that Tim has always thought he would be a father, but looking at the time and risks and responsibilities involved in child-rearing, he isn’t so sure anymore, either.  (And, like the progressive man he is, he’s willing to wait until I’m more sure to have a discussion about it.)

Please don’t get me wrong.  Quite a few of my friends are having babies, and I couldn’t be happier for them because that is what they wanted.  And I am happy when people get what they want!  And I think babies are cute and wonderful and absolute miracles.  But I would never assume or push an agenda on anyone, especially when it comes to a permanently life-altering decision.

I am an academic.  I’m obsessive about my job.  For as much as I complain about this grad program, I am also totally invested in my thesis, and have high hopes for making something out of this writing gig.  I’d love to publish a book, teach part time at a community-college along with teaching high school, travel.  I am career oriented, and maybe even a little bit selfish with my time, and I’m not sure there’s room in this for a baby.

Sophia brought a really great article (you all really should go read it) to my attention about academics and motherhood, which absolutely underscores my greatest fear: I will have to give up more of myself than I am willing to at this point to become a mother.  Maybe that will change over time, but maybe it won’t.

And all of this was just brought upon by personal communication with others.  That’s not even mentioning the manipulation of the media.  We are constantly being bombarded with headlines – Women Over 30 Have a Higher Risk of Having a Child with Autism.  Women Over 30 Have a Higher Risk of Having a Child with Down’s Syndrome.  Women Who Wait Till After 30 to Have a Child are at a Higher Risk for Breast Cancer (scroll down to “Lifestyle related factors and breast cancer risk”).  After 30, Your Chances of Conceiving Drop Dramatically.  Even the Prime Minister of Australia is blaming childless women for ruining the state of the economy in England (thanks, Megan, for pointing out this gem):

At that point one of my friends introduced me, dropping in that I am completing a PhD. At this, Rudd rolled his eyes and in a terse voice lacking any sense of irony remarked that is the “excuse” that “all” young women are using nowadays to avoid starting families. Since then I’ve come up with numerous one-line retorts, but in the moment I just froze in shock.

The guilt and fear are everywhere, apparently, but it seems that there are just as many reasons to have a baby as there are to wait or not have one at all.  The problem here seems that the psychology and the biology don’t seem to match up.  If it is true that all of these risks are present for women who wait, then sure, maybe our biological clocks are ticking.  But our minds may not be ready when our bodies are.  At the root of the issue is the fact that women’s decisions regarding children are deeply personal, but the guilt and fear are highly public.

I don’t have a solution to this.  Because of the personal nature of the issue, there is not clear answer.  I do know, however, that the decision to have a child is probably bigger and more life-altering than any decision one can ever make, and that decision should be personal and not the result of any kind of pressure.

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This is part of a series of posts about rhetoric and feminism.  I’ll be writing these responses every week as part of my graduate class about Topics in Rhetoric this semester, and I welcome any and all responses!

To be totally honest, I did not find this week’s readings as fascinating as last week’s.  I think this is largely because I’m not as interested in classical studies as I am more modern ones, so reading about classical theories of rhetoric wasn’t as exciting to me.  That aside, I did find a number of passages that were, again, interesting to me as a feminist blogger and as part of the feminist blogging community and as a teacher.

I first found it interesting that “Quintilian compares on the teacher-student relationship to one between loving father and devoted son… Thus he would inspire love of learning, not fear of punishment” (Quintilian 294).  We have definitely carried on this tradition in teaching up through modern times, and this is especially true when we discuss effective teaching techniques.  Every article or post or discussion about effective teaching that I’ve been a part of has discussed fostering productive relationships with students, and this begins with inspiring students to learn, not intimidating them into doing so.  Apparently Quintilian was on to something here, because I have also found in my personal experience that responding to students with the intention of helping them rather than punishing them is much more effective.

As a teacher and a writer, I also found it interesting that “Aristotle devoted a large portion of the Rhetoric to invention, or the finding of materials and modes of proof to use in presenting those materials to an audience” (Foss, Foss, and Trapp 7).  In school, when I teach writing or speech, there is a great deal of emphasis on finding information.  Whether this is to make an informed opinion yourself or to establish credibility, it is vitally important to begin the writing process with at least a little research.  Not only do I stress this as I’m teaching, but I try to do the same in my own writing, especially when it comes to my feminist blogging community, and I do believe all of the community members try to do the same, as well.  I have found in the past that, if I try to just write something down without doing at least a little research into the background of the situation, my audience will generally call me out on it, or at least post a few links to articles for me to read in order to broaden my perspective.  Also, it is important to check the credibility of your sources, which can be very difficult to do on the internet.  This is why I do not allow my students to do anything but cursory research on the internet and constrain their true research to online databases purchased by the school and books or printed magazine articles.  As a blogger, however, that is not always possible because so much of what one is reading and responding to are others’ opinions posted on their blogs, but if the author has gone a long way to establish his or her own credibility by linking to academic studies or articles or other well-respected sites, it’s generally seen as OK to quote them.  After all, as Plato said: “any man who does not know the truth, but has only gone about chasing after opinions, will produce an art of speech which will seem not only ridiculous, but no art at all” (Foss, Foss, and Trapp 7).

Finally, this idea shows up in Rhetorica ad Herennium, as well: “Finally, they say the highest art resides in this: in your selecting a great diversity of passages widely scattered and interspersed among so many poems and speeches, and doing this with such painstaking care that you can list examples, each according to its kind, under the respective topics of the art” (253).  It seems here that these classical rhetoricians and theorists do privilege research a great deal, which, because of my writing and teaching practices, makes sense to me, and also happens to validate my teaching and writing processes.

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