Monthly Archives: June 2020

Literature as Reflection

The latest podcast episode was something quite special.  It was a conversation with a lawyer, an activist, a philosopher, and an English teacher.  The topic flowed from the role of race and culture in the classroom, to the dynamics of Los Angeles, to the way in which literature ushers in discussions about society.

Do you have a favorite dystopian novel?  We take a look at how that genre in particular allows for reflection.  We then reviewed part 1 of The Raffle, by Randy Smith.  I highly recommend this read, and after listening to the show you’ll want a copy.  Feel free to leave your thoughts here in the comment section or email GoodIsInTheDetailsPod@gmail.com

It was a joy to be part of this, to produce it, and to now have the opportunity to share it.  For my fellow educators and bookworms, I think you’ll find a lot here.

 


On Being Explicit

Can a discussion about biological functions be deemed explicit? If I were to explain the workings of your lungs, for instance, would I need to be on guard and warn you that this  may not be appropriate?  How about circulation?  How about telling you the intricacies of an eardrum?

For the past two years I’ve been teaching a course called Philosophy of Sex and Love (you can click on my course readings tab for more information).  In researching for the class and preparing sub-topics one area has stood out to me as being a central issue worth pursuing underscoring assumptions: sex education.

Unlike the aforementioned functions of the body, the reproductive system is either not discussed or partially mentioned or fraught with misinformation.  It is tied to moral presuppositions and caution laced with notions of shame.  Proper names like vagina, vulva, and clitoris (gasp!) are treated like Lord Voldemort.

Silence around these terms are rooted in a failure to see the woman’s body (or people with vaginas) as important.  She is demoted due to her biological reality (thought to be merely a vessel) and that demotion is apparent when a deficit of basic language exists in education.  A lack of knowledge here has concrete consequences for both boys and girls.  It hinders honest conversations about intimacy, health, and most significantly, exposes one to harm if one cannot even understand this part of the body.

This weighed on me as I uploaded my latest podcast episode dedicated to a discussion about reproductive health, and because we use terms like “vagina” I found myself marking the episode “Explicit.”  That in and of itself is problematic.  There is nothing derogatory or pornographic in the conversation.  Yet, providing a platform to learn about how the reproductive system functions needed to be presented with a warning.

The vagina, vulva, and clitoris should not be a mystery.  Employing proper education reduces abuse, unsatisfying or painful sexual experience, and a tool for recognizing if a health problem exists.  This is not an immoral dialogue and I am pained to treat it as such by adding “E” next to the conversation.

Historically the woman’s body is simply meant for carrying a child.  Indeed that essentially described her worth.  How this functions or how her body responds to sex and pleasure (or desires for pleasure) is not part of the conversation.  By not considering this she becomes object.

I know what you’re thinking…you want to hear the episode, right?  I won’t keep you in suspense. Click below for the show on iTunes.

Good Is In The Details episode 35: “Naming Parts, Reproductive Health, and Sex Positive”

 


Private Conversations on Race

In the late 90s I had the opportunity to attend a lecture given by Maya Angelou.  I remember the packed room and the hush befalling the audience the moment she stepped to the microphone.  No one dared utter a sound or disturb the experience.  Her brilliance filled the very air we breathed.  It was undeniable.  We were in the presence of history.

“I will not stay in a room where there is a racist joke or word,” she said at one point.  That stuck with me.  Silence is agreement.  Silence is participation.  She closed her lecture with reciting Phenomenal Woman and I felt complete.

In the last few days I’ve had conversations with two of my friends (all of us are white) about painful confrontations with someone close to us regarding racism.  We shared nearly identical stories with the following theme: explaining to the person close to us that they held a racist position/opinion only to be met with denial, anger, defensiveness, and a terrible misunderstanding of the essence of racism.

All of us were emotionally drained and wished desperately that the outcome had been different.

No minds were changed.  No one will know of the exchanges.  Was it important?

I think the answer is yes.  At the heart of the misunderstanding was the assumption that racism consisted only of outward violence or use of derogatory language.  But that is far too narrow a definition.  Racism can be embedded far deeper.

I heard a clip from Tucker Carlson’s show where he described Black Lives Matter in the following terms: mob, riots, thugs, looters.  He then claimed that saying “all lives matter” is Christian and can even be found in the Constitution (“All men are created equal”).  It was an outrageous misreading of what “all men” meant when the document was written.   A simple glance and knowledge of history can illuminate that the “white” is presupposed here, and that women were not included and a slave was 3/5 a person.  Carlson’s attempt to justify his resistance to Black Lives Matter actually pointed us to the reason the movement exists, namely, because not all lives have mattered.

But back to my thoughts that the private conversations are worth the painful confrontation…

Yes.  It is important to interrupt racism wherever we find it, even when it is close. It clarifies one’s mind and there is always the hope that the words will sink in once the defensive attitude has time to dissipate from the interlocutor.  It is important, as Maya Angelou noted, to let others see you will not be present for racism.

It is also an act of love.  Holding a belief that all people are the same, and in a negative sense in particular, disempowers one’s ability to flourish in an authentic way as though the color of their skin were a virtue and the color of others is a vice.

Private conversations are another way to be an ally even if the end result doesn’t yield what you’d hoped.  It doesn’t come with a hashtag or a sign but it is valuable.