Freshman Bigotry

Because I think that one of literature's main purposes is to make us uncomfortable with reality as we know it (including our complacencies, biases, and misconceptions), I teach Tony Kushner's Pulitzer prize-winning drama, Angels in America: Millenium Approaches, to my students. If you've never read it, the play depicts the interconnected conflicts of several characters who struggle with AIDS, homosexuality, religion, and American politics in 1985, which Kushner calls (using Stanley Kunitz's words) "a murderous time." Subtitled "A Gay Fantasia on National Themes," it questions the binary oppositions that we Americans have internalized and allowed to control our thinking about controversial issues. In my class, I focus particularly on the oppositions of power v. powerlessness, freedom v. bondage, and justice v. injustice--and how the play reveals that none of the "priviledged" terms (power, freedom, and justice) are exactly what we think they are.

That said, my students have a very difficult time getting past the most blatant issue: homosexuality. These eighteen year olds, who seem to regard themselves as worldly, cynical, and badass, who regulary view graphic violence and sexuality in commercial films, are shocked--SHOCKED--at the profanity and graphic sexuality in the play. They're so distracted by these aspects that they can't even really begin to find meaning in it on their own. While grading their written responses, I read, over and over, "I've never read anything like this before," and "I don't understand what this is about." Some of them are so taken aback that they begin to sound almost elderly at best and hatefully bigoted at worst. Here's an example of the former:

"...I still do not see how this could have won the Pulitzer Prize, and to be honest, I do not see how anyone can even consider this a good piece of American literature. The language and content used is so vulgar, that if reading this play were not for a grade, I would have put down the book by now. There are ways to express certain things without having to capitalize the work 'fuck' or using other curse words on almost every page of the entire play...."

And here, sadly, is an example of the latter: While students were in discussion groups last Friday, I heard my "troublemaker" student (a guy, of course) telling his group that he thought homosexuals DESERVED to get AIDS and die. The other students (to my relief) reacted with shock and horror at his statement. He saw that he had my attention at this point and repeated the statement. I had to make a quick decision: how do I respond to my burgeoning bigot? Do I ignore him? Do I make a big deal about it? Do I silence him? To my own astonishment (so many things I say while teaching astonish me), and because I was highly medicated at the time, I very calmly told the student that his statement was precisely the kind of thing I did not want to hear in my classroom. He attempted to defend himself by saying that his opinion was religious in nature. I could tell that he was delighted with the negative attention, so I went with the silencing option, just to spite him. I told him that he needed to beware of his audience, and that I require students in my class to be respectful of everyone in the room. Then he said, "I know. Teachers have told me this before." !!! So I ended the conversation by telling him he should know better, then.

After class ended, I found myself preoccupied with my little bigot and my response to him. At first I felt that I had responded too calmly. I mean, if someone had said something similar about African Americans (like, "They deserved to be lynched!") I probably would have kicked the person out of my classroom. Was I playing into gay oppression with my even-handed response? On the other hand, was I wrong NOT to engage in a moral discussion? If I really want to change their minds and hearts, shouldn't I have challenged that student to articulate his views, as horrifying as they may be? Maybe if he had failed to defend himself in a rational manner, he would be more likely to see the flaws in his thinking.

After obsessing over the situation for a few days, though, I'm standing by my decision. I wouldn't give a voice to racism in my classroom, or sexism, so I don't think I should give a voice to homophobia, either. And I'm not sure how much value an impromptu discussion of moral values could have. I make it a point to refrain from debating my students on "hot button" issues because there's really no conclusion to these arguments, and I am determined that my classroom WILL NOT resemble The O'Riley Factor in any way, shape, or form. So, I shut the bigot up. Hopefully he'll get the message someday.

Lest I sound too negative, I do need to point out that many students are really into the play, even though it confuses them. One student wrote, "The piece displayed some good points and made me thoroughly analyze my own thoughts on some of the topics and conversations held throughout the story." I can't reach every student, but I can get some of them to start thinking about the world in radically different terms than they once did.

After all, am I not, myself, the product of such an effort? There was once a time when I was surrounded by people who, following Falwell's lead, would agree that AIDS is the embodiment of God's wrath. Thanks to the Humanities profs at Geneva College (of all places!) I was rescued from freshman bigotry: literature scooped out my brain (with all of its complacencies, biases, and misconceptions) and put it back in, rewired it, and set it on a radically different path. Now it's my turn to do the rescuing, and while it may seem like I'm doing a shitty job at times, I'll just have to keep the faith. If it happened to me, it can happen for others as well. I have to believe this, or I'll never get myself out of bed in the morning.