I am a Canadian; that means I live my life in solidarity with the human beings living, working, and fighting for social justice across the Americas, from the tip of Patagonia to the top of the arctic. Many of these individuals come from historically oppressed populations; many live still within populations fighting daily oppression, racism, sexism, and deep prejudice based on wealth and class.
The election of Mr Trump on Tuesday evening in the United States tore a very deep gash in my heart. It provided, like Brexit in the United Kingdom in June, an open invitation for those who hate and who fear minority populations to get down to the business of unrestrained anger and violence against them. I felt numb most of yesterday, and had a hard time reading the news. I still have not listened to any of the speeches made in the wake of the result. As with the debates, when I turned toward the video I felt a surge of nausea in my core. I had to look away.
It’s a really good thing I did not have to teach yesterday, then.
In the meantime, however, a number of my friends and colleagues in the US and beyond got down to the business of responding to the result, and of figuring out how to talk to our students in the wake of the election and its emotional fallout. I am enormously grateful to them for doing work I simply could not face yesterday.
We are teachers; we are the keepers of safe classroom spaces where respectful disagreement and debate happen. We are the guides who help to shape strong, thoughtful citizens. We are the ones who must now step forward, to provide the ideas, the tone, the strategies for critical thinking that were so lacking over the course of this election, and which will be the only way back to a shared centre ground in the years to come.
There is an awful lot, fellow teachers, for us to do in the months ahead.
Because we are teachers, with incredible social and intellectual privilege, it is our ethical duty not to get up in front of our students and declare our political allegiances as though those allegiances are the norm or the “correct” path forward. But it is also our obligation to share our all-too-human experiences of sorrow and anger with our students, and thus to make space for our students to share theirs in turn.
It is also our obligation and our ethical responsibility to speak out, everywhere, against hate.
How can we do this in ways that respect our classroom differences, make way for difference to be discussed honestly and respectfully among the young people in our care, and yet also acknowledge the raw rage and terror many of us are feeling? It’s a very hard task indeed.
To go some way toward a reply to this question, I’d like to share some writing that came across my Facebook feed yesterday morning. It is a letter to her students written by NYU instructor and graduate student Christina Squitieri, and it is reproduced here with her kind permission.
I know what most of you are feeling right now. You’re scared, you’re angry, you’re anxious, you’re confused, you feel betrayed, lied to, devalued, denied your legitimacy and your personhood. Some of you may be rejoicing about your candidate, but others, I’m sure, are angry and afraid of what this means for them, for their friends, for their families.
I know, because that’s what I’m feeling right now. Ignorance breeds fear, fear breeds anger, and anger breeds hate. America is angry and scared and filled with hate right now, and the push of anti-intellectualism has helped, if not ushered in, the rise of Donald Trump. People who have never seen a Muslim, or Mexican, or person of color, are scared that they are taking away their rights; people who feel like they are losing their power over everything – they have lost jobs, they can’t make ends meet, their vision of the American Dream or the way their fathers were “king of their castle” and had supreme authority over their wives and children is rapidly disappearing, if not entirely gone. They are scared and angry, and hate the people who they feel like took their power away from them.
They see, in Donald Trump, an image of their American Dream, that it can still happen. That a repulsive man can be fantastically wealthy and have beautiful women fawn all over him, can have mistresses and wives, and can show that man can still dominate, just as men always have. And he is telling them that people they do not deem as rightfully Americans are the only one standing in their way of achieving that dream. It’s fucked up and desperate, and more than anything, it is not sustainable. Nationalist policies never last long, because the people who come together – the people who the leader said were not worthy of being people – always triumph when they show love and respect for one another. It takes time, but I promise.
But I’m here to tell you that, in spite of how this election played out, education works. The community we build while in college fosters individual growth, fosters community, fosters mutual understanding and respect. Every day, when you go to class, and you are challenged to think beyond what you know or expect, you are becoming wiser and more compassionate individuals. Every conversation or debate you have with a classmate, you challenge yourselves to think better, to be open-minded, not to just hear but to listen to another side.
In our class on Fridays, I watch as you build on each other’s comments, how you agree and respectfully disagree, how you stop yourselves and say, well, I never thought of it that way. How you learn and respect each other, and how you grow as better thinkers, better writers, better critics, and better people.
This election has been about dividing us, pitting us against one another, and refusing to listen to the other side. As we move forward, I encourage you all to listen, to respect, to try to understand. You’re smart, and empowered, and made more compassionate by your education, by our in-class discussions, by the writing you do and by the listening you do. You learn to be empathetic and understanding, to support your ideas with facts (and textual evidence!), and to listen to the other side. Time and time again, this works. It may not feel that way right now, but it does.
Learn more, read more, speak out more, listen more. And go out into this world with that same respect, empathy, and compassion. It will be difficult, more difficult that debating what Mary Wroth’s sonnets mean, but it’s so important. Now is not the time to riot in the streets, but to respect the democratic process, and to learn where our assumptions lie and how we can begin to dismantle them. I promise to challenge myself to do the same.
This election does not mean we can stop speaking out against hate speech. It does not mean that we can be lazy and allow the nationalist, anti-Muslim, anti-LGBTQ+, anti-Mexican, anti-black, anti-woman, anti-immigrant, anti-disabled, anti-everyone-who-isn’t-white,-male,-Protestant-and-heterosexual language to continue. We need to fight it, we need to speak out against it, but we need to do that respectfully, with each other. Not on Facebook, not on Twitter, not on social media. We need to speak with each other – face-to-face – and listen. Without a doubt, misogyny ran this election. We need to think about how we talk about women and what we take for granted, just like we need to think about how we talk about Muslims, members of the LGBTQ+ community, immigrants, African-Americans, people with disabilities, non-Christians.
I can assure you, while Trump’s rhetoric is disgusting and hateful, not everyone in America voted for that hate. Some did, yes, but others did not. Some want change. An economy that they don’t understand but think a change will work. A future for themselves and for their children that they don’t see happening under “more of the same.”
From a political science perspective, after eight years of one party, the party of the president always switches. We need to have faith that our three branches of government will work, and that some of the most racist and xenophobic policies won’t pass the House and Senate. We need to have faith that our system of checks and balances will prevail. America has weathered some terrible storms, but we have always gotten through them. I have faith that we can get through this one, as well.
Christina finishes her letter by encouraging her students to visit the Wellness Exchange Centre on their campus, and I’ll end here by suggesting we all do the same: remind students they are not alone, however they are feeling, and direct them toward the resources on our campuses that can provide immediate support. We must also not feel embarrassed to seek them out ourselves.
In solidarity with you all, and with thanks once more to Christina for sharing her thoughts,