Monday, March 28, 2016

Power & Control

I appreciated the pragmatic approach of Kuebrich’s piece. Much of what we’ve read so far on publics, counterpublics, discourse, and power has been theoretically-based, so reading something which outlined a community putting the theories into play was revealing.

Early in, Kuebrich writes, “Cops, historically, have been a problem for composition” (568). The line and idea reminded me of my initial blog-post assessment that “Public opinion... is the direct act of refusing to be governed.” Not quite the marching around waving flags singing “Red!” style of refusing to be governed, but a more subtle form of resistance that confirms and cements the people as worthy and able to formulate different opinions and courses of action from the ruling power.

The author also brought in the concept of the false consciousness: “many marginalized, working-class, or oppressed groups actively value the ideologies and narratives that “justify their own subordination” (572). In Classic Sociological Theory, my class has been discussing Fannon, a black Caribbean man who wrote on the racism stemming from French colonization. He wrote, “Every colonized people-- in other words, every people in whose soul an inferiority complex has been created by the death and burial of its local cultural originality-- finds itself face to face with the language of the civilizing nation; that is, with the culture of the mother country” (Black Skin, White Masks). American ideology of the hardworking citizen who raises himself/herself (usually himself) up the sociological ladder, achieving capitalist success is preached by Western culture. Goals of achieving white possession, power, and authority were (and are) glorified throughout civil right’s movements, to encourage African Americans to “pick themselves up by their bootstraps,” so to speak. But this message is rife with embedded value. For example, the American dream discounts the importance of family life and collectivist culture, idolizing individuality, professionalism, and acceptance of American culture as the greatest achievement. When someone like the Oakland School District said they wanted to integrate Ebonics into their curriculum, recognizing it as a legitimate dialect, educators went crazy. Our culture may say it values equality, and “black lives matter,” but what it really values is conforming people to white standards. Black is then valuable only as it achieves whiteness.





Kuebrich goes on, “Speaking truth to power requires either significant risk or a certain degree of privilege. For this reason, it is important for scholars who are outsiders to participate by taking direction from neighborhood residents, not pushing them with academic prescriptions or notions of popular outrage” (579). For a marginalized person or persons to speak out, risk is inherently involved. The scholar may think that doing x, y, and z, organizing this and saying that will solve racial injustice, but again the scholar usually speaks from a position of white privilege and power. While the white citizen may believe the black person “puts up” or “tolerates” such mistreatment from police officers, they often fail to recognize that such tolerance is learned survival to avoid handcuffs. He goes on, “‘People who are thought not to have power’ in society are mistreated because people in power ‘don’t have to suffer consequences when [they] mess with powerless people’” (587). The stakes are much higher when the power-disadvantaged mess with the power-enabled.

Finally, Kuebrich quotes Flower saying,

“Because they speak from a marginalized position, urban teenagers, neighborhood advocates, and the poor often resort to a rhetoric of complaint and blame—a vigorous rehearsal of the wrongs by others in a context they (the speakers) do not control. Standing out of power, the discourse of complaint and blame takes little responsibility for positive change; it finds its strength in pressure, exposure, disruption and advocacy (250)” (576).

One way a power-refused people can regain agency is by choosing routes of disruption and downward leveling norms. Tell inner-city black teenagers they are all predisposed to become criminals, and the gang-mentality becomes one they take on as their own. A group with no identity has no privilege; it seems that claiming even an identity with negative repercussions (like a gang member) affords some level of character norms and agency around which one can act. But, if “power...is about controlling public representation,” then this creates a negative-reinforcing cycle, where black teens may choose disruption because it offers agency and an anti-establishment standing, but only reinforces racial stereotypes (573).



Representation post-Katrina...

I do not have all the solutions, but I appreciated Eubrich’s note that “Rhetorical forms would be best judged on how well they lead to productive, collective action that might alter existing power dynamics and social structures, not how they align with prescriptive notions of civility and propriety” (576). We would do good to examine where in rhetorical theory, racial bias is implicit. Embedded in rhetorical expectations and commonly used styles are assumptions about power, identity, and culture. And I am sure if we looked, we would find them, and could work to change them and make power-challenging discourse more accepting of alternate forms.



Saturday, March 19, 2016

Recap & Looking Forward

Going Public Assignment - 

For this project, I created a promotional and advisory text/presentation which aimed to answer the questions, "Why should I become an English-Writing major?" and "How can I maximize my degree in English-Writing?"  The idea spawned after I was asked to volunteer at MSU's "Major Madness," a speed-dating style event where undeclared or curious students could learn about other majors through seven-minute conversations with degree representatives.  As I thought through potential questions and answers for the event, I realized that 1.) there are a ton of stereotypical misconceptions about majoring in Writing, and 2.) English-Writing needs better public representation and advocation.

Thinking back to Asen's concept of the public imagination, English-Writing is often framed, through media and prominent representations, as the idyllic scene of a solitary writer typing away on his computer (or typewriter, for that matter), and essentially, writing novels.  Or, the same writer, perhaps begrudgingly, is imagined as teaching writing in a classroom setting.  Most often, when I share my major with strangers, the immediate question I receive is, "Oh, so you want to teach?"  For me the answer is yes, but importantly that is not the whole answer.  A degree in English-Writing can propel you into a plethora of careers; writing and teaching being only two.  So, going into the project I was considering how I could expose the possibilities and opportunities that pursuing an English major allows, how I could work to debunk public myths and misconceptions, and also wondering how this limited public imagination came about and is too often sustained.  Finally, I was thinking about what I wished someone had told me coming into the major.  What have I learned on my own, that could benefit others?  As a public of English-majors, our best interest in recruiting more majors is to create both specific and general dialogue; writing and speaking that can connect with a large audience, but still bear marks of distinction and class that makes individuals want to join the adventure of an English-Writing education. 

So what did I write and talk about?

I started by saying that English-Writing is not a predetermined-career choice.  People under-realize how much work is writing-centric.  Few big things happen in the world without talented writers throughout the process.  Besides journalism, PR work, editing, and so forth, jobs like running an outdoor program that works with troubled youth, organizing grassroots movements, or starting a new small business all require writing.  I recognized that part of re-imagining writing for the public is by transforming certain skills, like being able to articulate a sentence, into popularly-valued traits, like critical thinking or organization.  When someone is learning how to write well, they are also learning how to think well.  When someone is learning to communicate, they are also learning people skills, how to read a situation, and how to maximize speaker/listener interaction.  It seems that re-framing the public imagination is often a process of translation; showing how a skill or concept converts to contemporary values or popular understandings.

Second, I was realizing that when I began English, no one hyped me up or got me stoked.  And we should be!  The current generation of English majors is witness to revolutionary change in communication, media, and writing as we know it.  The invention of the Internet, digital media, smartphones, multimodality...the list goes on.  Writing is become more and more complex and multi-faceted, and available.  With conventions like texting, writing is becoming less the art of the bourgeoisie and the mass amount of circulating text today through online writing, blogging, emailing, and so forth reflects the laymen more and more.  This is why earning an education in writing is phenomenal-- because writing is the tool of the people, and capable of empowering individuals and groups to accomplish great things (not unlike the concept of a public.)

It was exciting to think through the opportunities I sought out and those which were offered to me, and all the outlets to share and circulate one's writing.  It was exciting to think about public discourse (versus classroom discourse) and how writers can tailor assignments towards a public portfolio and public recognition.  During the actual event, it was thrilling to speak with students and share my enthusiasm; I felt that many of the students considering English-Writing never had anyone just get excited  with them, and because of that they were going the popular path and choosing a STEM major.  No offense to STEM, of course, but getting students psyched up about something that others had perhaps only responded with the proverbial "You want to teach?" response made me feel enthused for our generation of humanities, while also realizing that we need new, current, representation.  We need spokespersons for the Humanities that are not just old men.

Looking forward, I hope my thought process, my compilation of opportunities and strategies for navigating the major, and my general excitement can be implemented in promoting English-Writing in the future.

Montana Rhetoric Project -

For this project, my team is researching the vigilante era in Montana.  I am most interested in considering different conceptions and public imaginations of "justice," and looking at the controversial discourse in which some found the vigilantes justified in their acts, and others found them representative of the same law-breaking they claimed to oppose.  

The situation is fascinating-- a time of huge gold rushes but incredibly rural locales with miles between homesteads or claims, and law enforcement.  In the same vein as the Rushmore Effect, I find intriguing how geography can shape public ethos.

For the assignment, it would be neat to compile short bios of various vigilantes, analyze their style of justice, and also include public reactions/newspaper stories and letters that represented the public response to these individuals.  Our team is hoping to visit the archives in Virginia City and leaf through documents to gain a sense of public attitude and the types of conversations that went on around the topic.  Like most concepts, justice is not a single, uncontested idea, but rather an ideology that unites or divides people groups as they agree or disagree on its limits and tenets.  I am interested in how public conceptions of justice have changed, and thinking through the implications of law-breaking law-enforcement (which is essentially what vigilantes were).  What about the public climate made this an acceptable alternative?  

Vigilantes created public change.  Obviously, that change at some point led to their unpopularity or unneeded-ness as law enforcement; did their very presence inspire police to step up their game?  Were all vigilantes working themselves out of a job?  In the end, I think our project will reveal the complicated-ness of justice, while also considering how fear and money drive public action.

I'll see y'all Monday.