Claire Dwyer
In class, Jody’s discussion of “does a ‘good’ really exist” stuck with me quite profoundly. I don’t believe that there is one good that exists, and never have. Additionally, I have an ecumenical view towards religion and morality. I believe that if a “heaven” or a “hell” existed, it wouldn’t matter what faith you had allegiance to, or even if you were an atheist. It would matter only that you lived your own version of good, treated others with respect and kindness, and worked in some way (even if it was small) to better the world. Essentially, it would matter if you were “good,” whatever the definition of “good” was for you in the context of your life.
After our discussion of the “good,” our class moved to discussing gender dynamics in the classroom. We mentioned, throughout the course of our discussion of potential ways to incorporate Platonic ideals into the classroom, that one educational inequity to be addressed is the fact that at a certain age, some women/non-male folks especially stop participating in the classroom for fear of saying something wrong. In my opinion, this is one of the greatest “gender gaps” in the classroom, as the fear of saying something wrong still occasionally holds me back at academic conferences or in professional settings.
However, I thought it would be useful to share a certain educational experience as a part of this blog post that has shaped the way I think about my own presence in the classroom. For those that don’t know, I am actually an introverted person. I think some folks might be surprised by that, considering how social I am. My extroversion is actually an illusion, however, that I have cultivated from being a performer for so long. It is performative—even now, as someone who participates quite vociferously in class and who has a rather “loud personality,” I am still actively telling myself to participate and speak. It takes me a long time to think through what I want to say, and to put together my thoughts in the way I want them. So sometimes, when a discussion moves especially quickly, if there are very extroverted or loud people in the room, etc, I tend to struggle a little bit more. I doubt many of my professors have especially noticed this considering how practiced I am at performative extroversion, but it is still a challenge. I am an odd kind of introvert who has so much performance experience that I am fine speaking to groups of people—though I do get a kind of heart-wrenching stage-fright to this day. I have been told by a professor before that I need to stop speaking so much in class and leave more space for the other students. What she probably didn’t realize is how easy that is for me. I am perfectly comfortable in silence.
In high school, I had to more actively think, “participate.” And I would participate no matter what. Regardless of whether I knew the right answer, I would raise my hand and just say something. I am so glad now that this was my attitude. I think it is the reason that I have not faced any barriers due to my natural tendency to quiet—I am comfortable with myself, and I am not shy in any way, shape, or form. I think people often confuse introversion with being shy, and they are not the same thing at all. I think being shy is what prevents people from making social connections. I am an introvert with a lot of friends. What that looks like is that I have a wide social network but I only meet them one on one for the most part because that is what I can handle. And that’s ok.
I will never forget the report card I received where I was celebrated for being wrong so much. It was in sophomore year of high school, and the fact that I can still remember it now is indicative of how dramatic an impression it made on me. My teacher wrote that I seemed comfortable participating in class—that I wasn’t always right but I did always add something to the educational experience of the students in the class. I am trying to hold on to this boldness as I move into academia, though I will admit that professionally this attitude is somewhat more difficult to maintain.
I think if we are going to optimize this Platonic ideal of education, we as educators have to encourage students to be comfortable with being wrong. I think that this particular English teacher made a big impact on my life in encouraging me in this way. This class began my journey of boldly participating no matter what—of taking risks, standing up for what I believe in, and then going home to tea and Netflix and everyone leaving me alone.
Out of the Cave of Academia: My Thoughts on my Vocation 
Hello Claire,
I really enjoyed reading this post, mostly because I related to it so much! All throughout high school, though girls were the majority of students in my humanities classes, the boys would dominate the class discussions. A handful of boys would contribute 80% of what was said in the discussions. I fell into that mindset of not wanting to participate in fear of being wrong or being called dumb.
This uncomfort with participating in class made any contribution performative. I had to know the correct answer and say something interesting in an articulate and confident manner. That perception of how I should be participating stressed me out to the point where I rarely participated. I had to make a goal at the beginning of my senior year in high school to actively participate. It didn’t matter what I said, I just had to become more comfortable with the idea of participating and to get over my fear of being wrong and being considered unintelligent.
I agree with you, that in order to have a Socratic discussion people cannot be afraid to participate. You will end up getting less than half of what people are thinking. It restrains the classroom and learning environment from allowing students to reach their full potential.
Warmly,
Katherine P.
LikeLike
Hi Claire,
What a beautiful narrative you have here. I value your vulnerability in this post, especially given your timid behavior within an environment dominated by men. As a cis-identifying male, I have never experienced the negative consequences of a gender gap in the classroom, and this is the first time that I’ve actually heard a student spoke about it. While I am unable to recognize the quantifiable value of my privilege, I’m still so sorry on behalf of all toxic masculinity for limiting your academic participation.
I can empathize with your situation from a different scope: a gay male growing up in the middle of Missouri, where conservative politics dominated the classroom and being an intelligent male was equivocal to being queer. Closeted throughout high school, I always held the fear of answering questions or including my thoughts in academic conversations because I did not want to be identified as “gay” and become socially ostracized. Of course, coming to college in southern California in a more inclusive environment has changed this facet for the most part. Now I’m afraid to speak up because there is bound to be a reincarnation of Einstein here with an arsenal of information ready to shoot down any thought I have. Talk about survival of the fittest.
Nevertheless, the main point I’d like to make is: don’t limit yourself out of the fear of being wrong. You said it best: in order to have a Socratic discussion, people cannot be afraid to participate. Much easier said than done – I know – but I most certainly think that it’s a practice not emphasized enough here at the 5C’s, and it’s certainly an obligation I’m going to prioritize while remaining respectful of the spaces for others to speak.
I hope you never feel uncomfortable speaking your mind in class. I believe all thoughts are valid, sincere, and a contribution to Socrates’ value of growth per recollective inquiry 🙂
All the Best,
Connor R. Squellati
LikeLike
I think queer folks do share some commonality of experience regarding marginalization in the classroom, especially in conservative areas. Being gay probably impacted my experience as well–I forget if I mentioned that in my post. And you should know that toxic masculinity did not limit my academic participation. As some who know me might tell you, I was actually pretty aggressive in the classroom for an introverted person. I probably seem sort of fearless to people now. But I wanted to make it clear that I do have a great deal of internal conflict–I am not as socially and intellectually confident as people perceive me to be.
LikeLike