roll with the punches

One of my most influential teachers taught me to "roll with the punches," to react and adapt when things don't go as planned. I've been struggling for the past few years or so to stick to that lesson.

When it was 8th grade, and half the photographs for my PACE slideshow didn't develop, rolling with the punches was a breeze. I continued with my planned project, drawing the scenes that didn't work out on overhead film, which my teacher then shrunk to match the other slides in scale. I remember my show, Super Spatula, getting all the laughs it was supposed to despite the odd juxtaposition of slide image and drawn image.

When I embarked on my accidental academic career, I noticed a sharp decline in my rolling ability. And this year was the worst yet. I have been mulling over the contents of a weird faculty retreat that made me question my teaching habits and my role at this institution. During the retreat, we watched a video about the shift to 21st century ideas of education, and I couldn't help but feel powerless in the internet age.

What is the role of a lecturer in a world where everyone googles and cites Wikipedia as a reference?

Why does it matter, though? If people come to my class, that means they want more than Wikipedia, right? Wrong. Over and over again, I find indications that all students want from me is the bare minimum. They want to hear what they already know and think. They want to see what they've already seen. And they want to use Wikipedia or even blogspot as a serious academic reference.

I even questioned myself when I found an interesting link about cave art, which I teach at the beginning of the semester. But the link was for io9.com, a site I'm not familiar with and hesitant to put on my class website. It seems like part of my job is now to teach students how to filter the serious material from all the internet chaff, when they do not want that particular skill.

Add high schoolers to this mix, and it all ends in tears, literally. I cried because I felt so humiliated after the grand high school experiment exploded in my face. Suffice it to say that at the end of the day, some people just expect an A for being there, and if you aren't on board with that, they'll question your professionalism.

Not rolling at all now. Some might peg me as a digital media-loving millennial, but I really do feel like an analog dinosaur next to my students. I speak an entirely different language and cannot connect to them, no matter which sites I link to or which videos I play for them.

I want you to agree with me

I think it is essential for all Americans human beings to experience what it feels like to be a member of the majority and the minority. In every conflict, I try to place my feelings and observations on that scale: am I going along with the crowd or am I being contrary again? This scaling determines whether I post an article to my facebook, or write about an issue here. What I'm really asking myself is, is it safe to let others know what I'm thinking?

The majority means comfort and safety. We tend to be so confident when we just know that most of those around us share our beliefs or opinions. Because I like that sense of safety, I feel the need to agree; I crave agreement as much as my poor self craves approval. Take the current issue going on with the OSU band. I have a lot of friends who are band alumni, and when you consider the larger band program that includes more than football games, I am one of them. This makes me want to say "I stand with Jon" and change my profile picture. To do so would bring me a sense of unity with old friends and even strangers.

So why haven't I done it? As much as I crave agreement and belonging, I look at the issue from a different perspective. That perspective puts me in the minority. The minority, unlike its counterpart, means risk and adversity. Voicing a minority opinion is risky because it can bring about "flame wars" on the internet or even end friendships. That's what I'm afraid of, now. There's a nagging voice in my head that says, "Jon may be a nice guy, but these allegations are quite serious and should not be taken lightly." I can say that I think the university acted rashly and purely for the sake of appearances by firing the director, yet I keep thinking about the students involved more than I think of him. How would I feel, if it seemed that band leadership didn't take my personal safety seriously? How would I feel, if a fellow student assaulted me but justice was never done? My positive memories of the band do not outweigh the harassment any one band member may have experienced. It is those thoughts that prevent me from "standing with Jon" as much as I feel that termination was an overreaction.

I should be clear that even our perceptions of majority and minority are flawed. If I were just some random citizen with no connection to the band, I might not feel like my opinion put me in the minority. I suppose I'm using the two terms in a more qualitative way than a quantitative one, since I haven't actually taken a poll of how many people think A as opposed to B. The reality is that I am closely connected to the band and its culture, so my instinct tells me to hush up.

And it's the hushing up part that bugs me. My instinct doesn't seem so different from the sensationalized picture of secrecy that the media is painting. Go with the flow. Don't you have a sense of humor? Lighten up. If you don't like it, you can leave.

Since when was belonging to a family or community or organization predicated on agreeing on every single thing? It reminds me of the article I read about the #JewsAndArabsRefuseToBeEnemies campaign. In the article, Gutman describes how friends are scared of posting with the hashtag for fear of reprisal in their respective communities. If I take my own feelings about the band and ratchet them up by, say, a thousand, I think I'm still underestimating the anxiety these people are feeling. For them it is not just "Hey, my friends think this, when I think that," but it seems to get at the heart of their cultural and religious identities. On top of that, as the article emphasizes, this "minority" message they would send if not for fear is a peaceful one!

So back to my hunch about experiencing both positions, majority and minority. If you always go with the crowd, you never know that inner struggle. And if you always choose the contrary side, you never feel that sense of belonging. Both are important for understanding where the other guy is coming from. If I let myself think that my friends are denigrating women who allege sexual harassment, the situation only gets worse. If Israelis perpetuate the idea that to criticize the occupation is a yes vote for Hamas, then peace is still light-years away. This idea that "If you're not with us, you're against us," needs to go away.

Essentially, I'm still enough of an idealist to believe that as long as we can imagine life in the other guy's shoes, we'll be kind, thoughtful, and just people. We would be slow to judge and slow to anger, because it takes time to consider both sides of an issue in a thoughtful way. Many a hasty comment or post would be avoided!