Wednesday 6 November 2013

Fifty Million Dollars!
Fifty Million Dollars?


Today, Mr. Lukaszuk announced that there will be fifty-million dollars restored to the funding of Alberta’s post-secondary (#abpse) institutions!  Huzzah!  This is welcome (if not expected) news, indeed.  But I am writing this post because (and I am not naming names) some people think that we in #abpse should be thankful for the return of this funding.  Indeed, we are, if I were to be so bold as to speak for all #abpse stake-holders.  We got fifty-million back!  Why should we complain?

Well, here is an analogy that I tried to make work on Twitter but could not make happen in 140 characters.  Let’s pretend (since Mr. Lukaszuk is quite fond of pretending to fulfill promises) I’m a cook in a restaurant; you are a server (already the analogy breaks down, but bear with me).  We are preparing to serve (once again, a poor analogy) a table of four.  I have already handed you a BLT, and you expect me to complete the order, to meet my promise, at the very least.  The shift bell rings and a new cook begins his work.  “That’s not a BLT!” he shouts.  “Actually, it is,” you say.  “It’s not and you have no idea what you’re doing! Do I have to come out and serve this food myself?” shouts the new cook.  “Give me back that sandwich!”  The cook takes back the sandwich, makes a face at you, but proclaims that he is doing this for the now ravenous customers.  “I’m not talking to you anymore,” says the new cook.  “I have to do this all myself.”

When the “customers” become angry and start shouting at the cook that they are hungry and require more servers and not a bigger restaurant, the Monster of Advanced Cookery replies, “I know what is best; give me eight months!” 

The cook then says, “You had a sandwich, but I promised more.  I took back the sandwich another cook gave you before you could bring it to our diners. But LOOK, I’ll give you this big lump of bread.  It’s a big wad of uncooked dough, and I will determine it’s ultimate outcome, but you got something, right?  That outta do it for you.  Kneel before my greatness and the bounty I have provided for you.”  (Okay, that’s a bit hyperbolic.)

Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, desperately peering into this wreck of a restaurant, are thousands of former customers and workers of another diner this aggressive, arrogant cook administered before (#abed).  “Look!” they shout, “They’ve been served a dod of uncooked dough!  Let’s get them and their raw bread!  Screw the lettuce and tomato.  What is bacon, anyway?”

So, when I have 140 characters to try to make that analogy work, I expect that you can imagine why I might fail.  I can only hope that the Progressive Conservative Association of Alberta might begin to understand that having fewer characters (people, programs, jobs, seats for students) might make “serving” an adequate message (education) difficult or impossible.  Yes, a wad of raw dough is great if you’ve been given nothing; yes, 140 characters is great if you don’t hope to say something of substance.

When I hear someone tell me that I should be glad of a lumrp of dough when I once held in my hand an adequate (and I stress the word adequate) BLT, I am going to complain.  I still have to seve that raw dough to “customers.”

While this is happening, incidentally, I have willfully voted myself a decrease in pay (1%), just so I don’t lose this wonderful job I have.  Also: I have been told that in the near future I will be taking over another section of the restaurant’s tables, serving more raw dough to even more of my “customers.”  Perhaps the people “bitching” about this windfall of $50M really should shut up.  We have it great. This is the land of plenty, after all.  Still, I would like some bacon, lettuce, and tomato on my BLT.  The BLT begins with a wad of raw dough; it doesn't end there.


From nuts to soup to raw dough, Mr. Braid.

Why do I "bitch" and "complain" about this "renewed" funding?  Because we were promised a BLT.  Actually, what we were promised was peanut-butter and jelly: not great, but enough to get by, and STILL people whinge that we have the AUDACITY to say THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS PROMISED! 

Yes, Fifty Million is great, more than I could ever imagine seeing.  The government only has ninety-seven million to make up.  Plus the 2% increase that was initially promised.

Later this month, Tommy Lu's party has a leadership race.  Let's see how the dough rises.

Wednesday 30 October 2013


Twitter and Alberta Postsecondary Education



Recent exchanges on Twitter regarding the cuts to Postsecondary education have, in my opinion, taken a turn for the nasty.  Now, I will first say that I find Mr. Lukaszuk to be smug, arrogant, and dismissive of his critics who are passionate about defending postsecondary education.  I have found him to be very unprofessional at times.  He has suggested that people have nothing to contribute; he retweets pictures of his critics.  It was this last exercise that led me to call Mr. Lukaszuk an arse.  That was unprofessional of me, but it was in response to an unprofessional tweet from the Monster of Advanced Education.  Yes, it was an ad hominem attack.  No, I am not proud.  Yes, I would do it again.

However, recently, Mr. Lukaszuk’s family has been dragged into the mess his government created.  One tweet I read mentioned Mr. Lukaszuk’s daughter.  I asked the tweeter if s/he would consider deleting it, since I would certainly not want my children mentioned in these Twitter discussions.

Yesterday and today have dragged Mr. Lukaszuk’s wife into the discussion, as well.  Although I have been no angel tweeting to and about Mr. Lukaszuk, I would ask that all who are discussing #abpse to put the blame on and direct tweets at those responsible for, and not those associated with those responsible for, these devastating cuts.  I know that we are angry; I know that we are enraged, but direct the anger at Mr. Lukaszuk and the lying con artists that are the Progressive Conservative Association of Alberta.

#Abpse folks:  we are better than this.  Let’s move on and in future refrain from dragging any family into these discussions.  Let's keep our focus and fight the cuts and not the families of politicians.

Monday 28 October 2013

Alberta's Enterprise and Advanced Education
is Waiting to Hear from You

Alberta's ministry of Enterprise and Advanced Education has started a new blog:  http://albertaadvances.wordpress.com.  The blog accepts moderated comments.  I wonder just how many of these comments are, in fact, accepted.  I have submitted two (nearly) identical comments, both under my real name.  Let's see how much this government and ministry actually want to hear from real Albertans.

The first blog post is Mr. Lukaszuk's reminiscences of the wonderful day announcing the new renovations and expansions to University of Calgary's Engineering school.  I left the following comment (in two different versions, both with the same tone, with only slightly different wording):

"I think it would be a wonderful idea to name a brick after each person who has lost a job due to the $147M cuts to Alberta’s post-secondary education system.  If you were to include one for each student who no longer had access to the education system or each staff or faculty member who was not hired due to these cuts, each brick, wire, and bolt could have a name inscribed on it.

I do not mean this comment disrespectfully.  If the Redford government were to act on this suggestion, it would at least indicate to Albertans that the government knows what it is doing:  constructing buildings and destroying lives.  We could all rest easy in the knowledge that #buildingAlberta really means populating Alberta with shiny, new, empty buildings and the people who build them."

Both comments, one with my G+ account and one with my Twitter account, are awaiting moderation.  These posts were an experiment to see what kind of "dialogue" and "consultation" the Government of Alberta will tolerate.  Are the comments harsh?  Yes.  Do cuts to Alberta's post-secondary education system deserve harsh criticism?  Yes.  I have followed the guidelines for the blog's comments.  These posts are angry but they do not cross any lines as stipulated on the blog.

Will the current government recognize the damage they have caused, not only to the post secondary education system but to the lives of individual Albertans?  Does this government actually want to hear from Albertans?  Or do they want to hear their own voices returned to their cotton-stuffed ears?

Government of Alberta: I and my posts await your moderation.

UPDATE:  Much to my surprise, the quoted comment in this post was actually posted to the E&AE blog. So, there's that, at least.  Get on the blog and start commenting!

Tuesday 22 October 2013

More Teaching, Less Education

So, I had a bit of a melt-down on Twitter (and on the departmental e-mail list) when I heard rumours that my faculty is considering adding another course to my already onerous course-load.  Full faculty members would also have their course-count increase by one.

I want to explain why I became so angry.  I teach three English courses (a total of 160 students) each regular semester and one during the summer semester.  As I have stated in a previous post, this course-load requires a ridiculous amount of grading.

I can assure you that with an additional course added to my load, students who take my courses will suffer.  If this extra course is added, I will eliminate at least one of my two essays.  I expect that my exams will become multiple choice.  And the quality of education that students receive will be greatly reduced.

However, I do not see my job--my career--as just teaching and grading.  I do a fair bit of work on campus to try to build community.  I run the Creative Writing Association; I am faculty advisor of the ill-funded Whetstone Magazine; I chair the committee of the “Striking Prose” prize that sees $2500 go to three winners of this creative writing competition; I do other service (committee) work for the department (even though I am not required to do so because of my “teaching-only” position); I frequently teach “independent studies” courses in creative writing, experimental poetry, literature and nothingness, and Canadian Literature because often students require courses that are not offered that semester because our department is already horrendously under-staffed.

I do not list this sample of my work to suggest that I do more work than my colleagues, only to say that much of what we do as academics does not happen in the classroom.  I expect that many colleagues across Alberta have similar or more demanding non-classroom duties.

I am angry because I believe that education is not about conveying information but about building a community of learners.  If I have one more course, all of that other work I am doing will, by necessity, be eliminated.  I simply do not have the time to grade that many essays, attempt to mentor students, seek to create community, while teaching what is already an untenable teaching load.

Sadly, my view that education is about community is not shared by Mr. Lukaszuk or his government, who seem to think that education is an assembly line.  But I guess that’s what happens when “enterprise” gets rolled into the advanced education portfolio.

Wednesday 16 October 2013


The Elite Universities in Alberta

I recently read an article that suggested, well, actually argued and stated outright  that the cuts to Alberta’s post-secondary education system are both good and bad.  The “cuts” are bad because “cuts” are “bad.”  But those “cuts,” the “article” “argued” are “good” because they raise admission standards, and only those people who “deserve” to be in post-secondary “education” will finally be able to be in the “education” system they "deserve."

Are you wondering why I have put so many “words” in quotation “marks”?  It’s because our “esteemed” Minister of Advanced Ignorance has put the very word "cuts" in quotation marks.  He actually, apparently, “believes” that these “cuts” are not actually “cuts” but some variation upon not-cutting.  Those ideas, I would like to emphasize, have cost REAL PEOPLE REAL JOBS.  That is the price of your quotation marks, Mr. Lukaszuk.  Let me reiterate: “real people, real jobs.”  “Cuts” are not “arbitrary.”  Your government had choices, and your government chose elitism and some bizarre idea that those with money should rule.

To return to the article that suggests it’s a good thing that admission standards are rising at the #UofA. I disagree with the passion of a thousand burning stars.  I have had students who are “qualified” to attend university who should not be there.  I have had students who should not be in university excel.  And yet we determine admissions by what? Grades from high-school? By what the student or the students' parents can afford?

Nevertheless, I agree with the article:  the University is an “elite” place, but only if we are forced to make the university about money.  But, really, what would happen and what would we lose if we did away with tuition and student debt?  What would happen if we cared about where students are going as opposed to where they came from?  What if education were free?  What if our government cared for students (by which I mean people, Mr. Lukaszuk)?  What would happen if everyone thought it was possible to achieve a post-secondary education?  Would the elitism of that article die away? I hope so.  Would the idea that deep and important thinking was only available to the elite die a grisly death? I also hope so.  Post-secondary education does not need to be elite.  What our dear minister wants is a war among the houses so that he might make money immediately.

I bet “cutting”education makes money now.  But education is not something you happen to run into.  Education pays out in the long run, but Mr. Lukaszuk and the Progressive [snicker] Conservative Association of Alberta are just in their jobs for the sprint.  Who cares about the long run?  Who cares about the marathon?

Are Universities elite?  Absolutely.  Should they be?  No. Are universities equal?  Absolutely not.  I say this as someone who is a second-tier “faculty” member; I say this as somebody working in what some call a “third-tier” university.  And yet, would I put my students up against any other student from any other school in Alberta?  You bet your ass I would.  And I guarantee that the undergraduate students at the U of L would excel, would do as well as (if not better than) their “first-tier” compatriots.

Despite my protestations, is the UofA a flagship institution? Yes, it is.  Should it remain so?  I think so.  How could we have a higher education system that is entirely equal?  The institutions in Alberta’s advanced education system are not equal; they do not repeat themselves.  In other words, Mr. Lukaszuk, each institution has already differentiated itself.

What Lukaszuk and his cronies want is that we who are not part of that “flagship” institution to sit quietly and not speak up about this abuse of education, about whatever Mr. Lukaszuk has against his Alma Mater.  I refuse to stand for that.  We are all in this together:  scientist and artist; social scientist and humanist; student and professor; U of L instructor and U of C staff member; U of A student and Mac U faculty member.  We have to realize that this assault, though concentrated on the University of Alberta’s Arts and Humanities, is an assault on our education.  It’s an assault on all of our educations; it is an attack on education itself.

Raising admission standards is not a simple “good.”  Elitism is not a simple “good.”  Raising tuition (as it will sky-rocket next year) is not a simple “good.”  Those who care about post-secondary education, about education at all, have to stand together.  All of us.  I stand with the real Campus Alberta; I stand for education and refuse to let it fall to the whims of the oil and gas industry.  I urge you to do the same.  We need to stand together to protect ALL education across Alberta.  If we don't do it now, it might be too late.  Stand with the Real Campus Alberta: those who actually care about education.

Friday 11 October 2013


Politicians and Academics

In a recent response to a post on the popular blog, “Whither the U of A,” one anonymous poster suggested that Mr. Lukaszuk should follow an academic around for a day, a week, or month, and then claim that profs are lazy.  The poster then stated that the politician could never want the job of an academic.  Although I believe that the academic field appeals only to a few people in a population, I also believe that statement is also true of politicians.

I would like to suggest that the job of the academic and the job of the politician are not that different, if looked at in a peculiar way.  A politician on Twitter indirectly represents the party that politician stands for; an academic on Twitter indirectly (though not legally) represents the institution by whom that academic is employed.  In the Nerf-world of social media, both politicians and academics still must deal with the hard reality of actual consequences.

Politicians do real work in meetings; they are often required to do them in face-to-face meetings (where the best work and discussion is often done); these meetings often (though not always) require travel.  Politicians often do difficult, thankless work alone, as they read through page after page of reports, white papers, and other things with words that politicians read.  Politicians need to know not only what is stated in those papers but what is implied; they need, in other words, to be aware of context.  When they are in legislature, politicians need to be able to read people, context, and situation on the fly, and they need to be able to react to it with the research and preparation they have done.  They need to be alert, aware, on their toes.  But they also need to explain in legislature what they think and why they think it.  Despite this, it is a legislature because it is not a one-way street; if those in the legislature disagree or misunderstand the member who is speaking, then the onus is upon that member to make his or her statements clearer, more specific; evidence, support, more attention to detail is often required.  In the legislature, the member who is speaking is not the most important person; it is only a person who is speaking on behalf of those that person represents.  These statements hold true for Ministers, too.

Now, in the previous paragraph, substitute “politicians” with “academics;” “legislature” with “classroom;” and "Ministers" with "Deans."

Too many people think that politicians do nothing of value than the work they do when they meet in legislature, unless that work immediately produces money.  Sorry, I got that confused.  Too many people think that academics do nothing of value if they are not teaching or the research they do is not immediately making money.  Do you see, Mr. Lukaszuk?  Our jobs (our careers, our vocations) are not all that different, with the only exception that you appear to despise the very fact of the existence of my field of study, since I teach in the Arts and Humanities.  However, I must say, I do not write a tweet every time I finish reading a poem, every time I finish grading a paper.  Politicians are very good at advertising every moment they do something that is in some way relevant to their job.  By nature, academics do not brand or sell themselves publicly all that well.

Mr. Lukaszuk, I would not want to follow you around for a day, a week, or a month; I already know I have no desire to have your job; I also know that you work long hours.  Nevertheless, I think that you believe your job is to dictate what others think and learn in order to serve your masters.  I think my job is to expose my “customers” to ideas and let them voice their opinions about them, to “consult” with them; my job is to assess the value of my customers’ “purchases” (by which I mean “essays”???). . .  And it is exactly here that the metaphor that “a student is a customer" fails.  EDUCATION IS NOT A BUSINESS.  (I’ve said it before; I’ve said it before in all capital letters, but you still do not understand.)  Grocery stores do not require us to pay for food and then, after having paid, require us to sing for it.  The person at the till then does not decide, based on the quality of our singing, if we should be able to have the good rutabaga, the bad rutabaga, or no rutabaga at all.  Good grief, Mr. Lukaszuk, would you please stop with your failed analogy?  No “stakeholder” is buying it.

Our jobs are similar; there is no doubt about it.  Politicians and academics work long hours; even those hours spent on “social media” are often actually hours spent working.  The amount of time I have spent responding to you and your government’s cuts to the “business” of education might have been more fruitfully spent teaching students how to read carefully, how to think critically, how and why to enjoy and love art, how to respond to people and institutions who refuse the voices of the disenfranchised--those very people you and your government refuse to hear, let alone listen to.

You think and say you are on the side of students:  I dare you to prove it, Mr. Lukaszuk.  I dare you.  Prove your devotion to students by actually giving the funding institutions require; and do it in a way that does not mean more buildings and fewer people.  Do it in a way that might indicate that you might have some small understanding of what a university is or does; do it in a way that makes it look like you care.  Do it in a way that doesn’t look like a political move.  I hate to use a slogan, Mr. Lukaszuk, but please, just do it.  Support those students you so love by supporting the institutions they so require.

Wednesday 2 October 2013


Politicians with Imagination

Ever since I moved to Alberta in 2000, I have voted strategically.  My heart was not in my vote; I only hoped that my vote might help prevent Parties who believe that queer people will (and should) burn in hell or that Jesus rode a dinosaur or that all kids in Alberta should say the Lord’s Prayer before school begins would not get into power.  I hoped, with my single vote, that I might try to prevent the incrimination of people who think or believe or live differently than the majority.

Now is probably a good time to say that I do not speak on behalf of my employer.  After the way the Redford government has bullied teachers, doctors, and post-secondary institutions, the only thing I know come next election is that I will no longer be voting strategically.  I don’t really know what party or leader I will vote for, and, to be honest, since I live in a rural community, my voice will likely be lost.

I do not endorse any Party; I do not endorse any leader of any Party.  I can tell you that I refuse to vote for the Conservatives.  The Redford government has lied to everyone.  My days of strategic voting are over.  Perhaps for the first time since I moved to Alberta, I do not know who I will vote for in the next election.  At least I will not feel the need to shower after I cast my ballot.

The Wild Rose Party frightens me because of their social conservatism.  Is there a way that the Wild Rose Party could tone down the religion and the nut-baggery to make them a viable contender for leadership?  Is there a way that they could convince me to vote for them? I doubt it.  Will they get the next minority leadership? I expect so.

But tonight I read a blog post by a leader of a small Party, with no MLAs, with little funding, and with a huge vision.  Is this vision possible? I doubt it.  Are their goals attainable?  I don’t think so.  But the Wild Rose Party came out of nowhere and made huge strides in Alberta politics.  Perhaps the Alberta Party could do that, as well.  I do hope, though, that the Alberta Party’s claim that they are “socially moderate” actually means “socially progressive.”

I am writing this post because I have encountered a politician who has a vision--it’s a big, stupid, unattainable vision.  But Mr. Greg Clark is sticking with that position.  Mr. Clark and the entire Alberta Party are dreamers.  They imagine things; they imagine big things.  I could be happy, even delighted, in the Alberta Mr. Clark has imagined in his most recent post.

Once again, this is not an endorsement.  But, really, here is a political leader who engages in historical revision to imagine an Alberta that his Party would create, if they had rule for only ten years, as opposed to the forty-two year rule the Conservatives have had.

I am not endorsing the Alberta Party; I am not endorsing Mr. Clark, but here is someone who not only knows history, who not only knows politics, but someone who posts a fictional, imaginative blog post and effectively writes a piece of speculative fiction to make a point, to make a statement about his Party.  As an instructor of English, I must say that that’s pretty cool.  And here is his post: 


If only....

Tuesday 1 October 2013

Why I Fight for Post-Secondary Education


Why I Fight for Post-Secondary Education

I’m not sure that my job, my career, is as protected as “tenure lite” (officially: “continuing appointment”) might suggest. I’m not sure that I won’t get called into the office, as I did in high school, for misbehaving.  But we have encountered a bully who is attempting to tell nerds what to do and how to do it. I thought that post-secondary education had changed me, my life, but Mr. Lukaszuk has apparently proved me wrong.  Every time I read one of his tweets, dismissive of faculty and staff, or underestimating the intelligence of our students, I react emotionally.  And I fight back.  In the past (and present) I have fought back with name-calling, but it’s a sad reality that Mr. Lukaszuk has made Alberta’s post-secondary education a play-ground shoving-match.  I will refrain from calling Mr. Lukaszuk names if he refrains from dismissing the important work that staff and faculty do at post-secondary institutions across the province.  Mr. Lukaszuk needs to understand that if he wants students to learn, then our institutions need quality researchers, quality teachers, quality staff to make these institutions operate in a way that will make sure that Alberta’s economy is not based exclusively on the oil and gas industry.

Sadly, I believe that Mr. Lukaszuk and his Party are still trapped in the bitumen bubble and believe that commercializing research immediately will pay dividends immediately.  But that is not how research works.  It is those research projects motivated by curiosity (and not money) that eventually pay dividends.  Let smart people who have dedicated their lives to their fields of expertise determine what is important to study.  I really hope that the government does not dictate research programs, but that seems to be what Mr. Lukaszuk is determined to do.

I am not fighting for Alberta’s post-secondary education because of my job; if it were only a job, I would shut up and say no more, safe in the net of “tenure lite.”  I am fighting for Alberta’s post-secondary education because post-secondary education both changed and made my life.  And this is a story I hope Mr. Lukaszuk and his Party begin to understand.  Post-secondary education made me a better person.

When I left home (London, Ontario) and started studying at the University of Waterloo, I thought that I might make my love of reading and writing into something profitable.  I decided to enroll in “Rhetoric and Professional Writing.”  I thought my love of language could be practical.

I took one course and dropped out of that program.  I didn’t want to study how to write for people.  I wanted to study what I loved.  I took many courses in English Literature, often having to get a semester’s essay-heavy course-selection signed by someone in the department (back when we had forms in triplicate).  But I loved what I was doing.  For the first two years, I was not receiving very good grades.  But I was challenged as I had never been challenged before.  And I loved it.  In a later post, I might explain how some of my seemingly insignificant decisions led me to the life I now have and love.

I said that I would explain why I fight for our post-secondary education system, but this is embarrassing for me to admit.  I said that my education has made me a better person, but I haven’t explained how.  When I arrived at eighteen on the University of Waterloo’s campus, I was racist and homophobic; I like to think now that it wasn't intentional.  Were it not for the strength of my Mom, I expect I would have been misogynistic, too.  And I probably was, anyway.

But after I dropped out of my “study English to get a good job” program, and after I started reading and understanding literature, after I listened to my professors and began thinking for myself, after I started really listening to what writers and narrators and professors and peers were saying, I began to change.  I became embarrassed by my previous racism and homophobia, by some of my previous idiotic statements.  In short, I began to learn.

My education made me a better person.  If someone wants to say that I was hood-winked into the “leftist conspiracy” or whatever, then fine.  I can actually state, without reservation, that I am a better person because of my undergraduate post-secondary education.  I now believe in equality; I believe that all people deserve equal treatment; I believe that all students--even those, especially those--who disagree with me should have a voice in my classroom.  University education is about voicing ideas and debating them; it’s not about silencing them.  I am most excited in the class when I have a thoughtful student who disagrees with me and speaks up.

So, when our Monster of Advanced Education comes along and decides that fewer people will teach, fewer people will learn in Alberta at this level, I revert back to my play-ground responses to bullies.  I am not proud of it.  Some well-respected teachers and researchers have tried reasoned discussion with Mr. Lukaszuk, and have then been told that they have “nothing to contribute.”  I honestly do not believe that Mr. Lukaszuk understands or cares for what post-secondary education can do for a student, for a person.

I fight for Alberta’s Post-Secondary Education system because now fewer people will have the potential to have life-changing experiences; fewer people will have the potential to help those students attain those experiences.  I fight for #abpse, in short, to fight against ignorance, which seems to be what Mr. Lukaszuk is fighting with and for.

Thursday 26 September 2013


In Defense of David Gilmour


I suppose the title of this blog is rather misleading.  I don’t intend to defend Mr. Gilmour’s outright dismissal of women writers, or Canadian writers, or Chinese writers.  But better thinkers than I have written posts that range from outrage to disappointment to sadness--my favourite ends with a picture of the author giving Mr. Gilmour the finger; Mr. Gilmour has a narrow-minded approach to literature.  For me, the discussions boil down to two tweets:  Jonathan Ball suggested (jokingly, obviously) that we should cut Mr. Gilmour some slack since he wrote “Comfortably Numb.”  Zachariah Wells tweeted in response, “Comfortably Dumb?”

I was going to start this post with an apology on behalf of white men who don’t think like Mr. Gilmour.  As expected, that is not necessary at all.  Many of those lambasting Mr. Gilmour are, in fact, very similar to Mr. Gilmour, in terms of their age, gender, and race.  Those who do not share Mr. Gilmour’s privileged position are not blaming old white guys for Mr. Gilmour’s views.  They are not blaming the University of Toronto.  Everyone seems to be placing the blame squarely on the shoulders of the responsible party:  the system that allows for someone to think that reading and teaching books that reflect only one’s own identity is a great way to teach students.  Some might name that system the patriarchy.

However, I have read numerous responses to Mr. Gilmour’s ill-conceived words (and ill-conceived perceptions of education and teaching) that condemn him for teaching only those books about which he is passionate.  And here is the only defense I can muster for Mr. Gilmour.  I had to reflect on my “Introduction to Language and Literature” course because that course could be sub-titled “Some of Jay’s Favourite Texts.”  The books I teach to students (many of whom are in my class only to meet a requirement for a Management degree) are books that I love; they are also books that I love to teach.  In fact, I have previously made an effort to teach books I actively hate in order to let students know that it is perfectly acceptable to study and read literature that you dislike.  I actually thought I would make a great scholar of Victorian novels because I despise them so perfectly.

One of the novels I made myself teach, despite my hatred for it, was Wuthering Heights.  I hate that book because it seems to me like a tragic episode of Three’s Company:  there’s a misunderstanding, but instead of it being wrapped up in a half-hour with Mr. Roper doing or saying something ridiculous and oblivious, it turns out the misunderstanding makes characters mope about on the moor for days-on-end crying into the sodden wind, “Woe is me,” and then trying to destroy others’ happiness because of a simple misunderstanding.  “Just TALK to each other!” I want to scream at the characters.  Anyway, my hatred of that book has nothing to do with the fact that it was written by a woman or that it does not reflect my values or my own identity.  How do I know this?  Because every term I teach A Room of One’s Own to one hundred first-year students.  I teach it because I love it; I teach it because of the fifty students who hate it, and the forty-nine students who come to love (or at least respect) it, there is one student, every term, whose life is changed because of it.  I would suggest that Mr. Gilmour read that book; it might speak to him in his moment of what can only be grave doubt.  But I mean REALLY read it.  Try to empathize.

It’s a difficult text to read; it’s a difficult text to teach to seventeen- and eighteen-year old students.  But it’s a book I love.  And I teach it because I love it.  I teach it because it’s important, not because it was written by a person I admire, or a person I want to be.  In fact, one of the few things I hope my students take away from my introductory class is that we must separate the author from the text; we want to look at the text as a cultural artifact, not as some deep expression of the author who “really” meant to say something else, or “really” meant what was written on the page.  That is not to say that, at more advanced stages, that social, historical, biographical information is irrelevant; it is only to say that I want students in first year to address the text first.

With that said, Mr. Gilmour, I invite you to take my “Introduction to Language and Literature” class, in which I state that we do not need to “identify with” the narrator or the protagonist because they are fictional characters.  I also suggest that we can read to understand and value difference, rather than have our own identities reflected back onto us.  Literature is so much more than a looking-glass.  Really, I suggest you read Woolf more closely.

I have read some responses to Mr. Gilmour's interview and abysmal "apology" that can be summarized with the following manufactured tweet: “So, we can now condemn Women’s Studies profs for not teaching men?” I will not develop this point further tonight, but I will say that this blog post is not relevant if Mr. Gilmour’s courses are called “The Representation of Middle-Aged White Male Sexuality in Literature” or “Old White Guys’ Sexual Hangups” or “I Will Stun You with a Scene of a Man Eating a Used Tampon.”  Somehow, I think my response is still relevant.  Also, I expect that Women’s Studies profs might include a good number of the authors Mr. Gilmour includes on his syllabus.  Mostly as evidence.

Be passionate about what you teach, Mr. Gilmour.  Just try to allow your passion to extend beyond your own skin.  But, Mr. Gilmour, thank you for making me re-examine my course syllabi and allow me to see even more changes that I can make to allow more voices to enter my classroom than just my own.  My book order is over-due because of you.  I and my future students thank you for that.

We also have to remember that film is different from literature.  So, if you will excuse me, I am about to watch the film of me writing this blog post.

Monday 23 September 2013

The Ballad of Tommy Lu

And here is the full text of "The Ballad of Tommy Lu (in Many Tweets)" that I read this Sunday at Word on the Street in Lethbridge:



The Ballad of Tommy Lu
(In Many Tweets)

I

You think Luckaszack is just a hack,
knows nought of PSE?
Well, here’s a song to prove you wrong,
so let the praise run free!

“We’ll give you cash and in a flash,”
said our Tommy, running.
He really meant, “The money’s spent,
sorry ‘bout your funding.”

“I am can-do,” said Tommy Lu
when up against Wild Rose.
Then he got in, stifled a grin,
“I’ve got some schools to close.”

We cheered, of course, without remorse:
who needs education?
Students will learn, after this burn,
‘bout this politician.

Why do they read when what we need
is good ol’ worker drones?
We need drillers, pillow fillers,
and people to answer phones.
He did besmirch the pure research
of profs who might think lots.
What’s the use of a lab recluse
if we can’t sell robots?

“I decide what’s taught (before I’m caught
punching above my weight),”
Said Tommy Lu to his mighty crew,
unaware of their fate.
If truth be told, our hero bold
unsheathed his battle axe:
he slashed and hacked, laughed and smacked,
“We always refuse to tax!”
He fixed his hair, said with a glare,
“we just require prudence.”
Though jobs were lost, “Despite the cost,
I support our students.”
To those who balked, Tommy had talked:
“This is gonna hurta.”
Though students cried, Tommy replied,
“I’m burning Alberta.”




The Ballad of Tommy Lu
(In Many Tweets)
Part Two:
Centralizing Bugaloo


Open your ear, and open a beer;
I’ve got a tale for you.
Here’s a story that sings the glory
Of the hero Tom Lu.

Tom takes his post: the students toast;
The profs all think he’s cool.
He’s on their side against the tide
Of this bitumen tool.

The budget fell, became a hell
For those who like Tom Lu.
He yelled, “Surprise! I’m Enterprise!
Deputy Premier, too!”

At this dual role, some eyes do roll,
Say it’s a lot to heft.
Tom will not shirk; it’s hardly work
When there’s nothing left.


He stands tall, cutting it all,
Much to the schools’ dismay:
“I take it back! Some I’ll sack;
Some programs shout, ‘Mayday!’”

But Tom’s not done; he’s having fun
Torturing all students.
He preens his mane, says with disdain,
“I’ll stop that impudence!”

To Tommy Lu, students said, “You
Promised autonomy!”
Into the mic, Tom spit with spite,
“In this economy?”

Despite their size, he’ll centralize
All of our many schools.
“It’s well and fine for some to whine;
we know they’re silly fools.”

“Go take a hike; it’s no Third Reich–
it’s what I have to do.”
He leaves, stage left; they’re all bereft
because of Tommy Lu.

But don’t be sad for this ballad
Of Lucky Tommy Lu.
Please don’t be sore; I’ll add some more,
But here must end Part Two.

The Ballad of Tommy Lu
(in many tweets)

Part III: Institute of Mystery


“I am can-do,” said Tommy Lu
(some even whispered, “liar!”)
But he got in, stifled a grin:
“I’ve got some profs to fire.”

The budget dropped; the schools were stopped
from having half a chance.
Here’s Tommy’s line: “Now don’t you whine,
We’ll cut to excellence!”

“I’ve got some news!” said Tommy Lu,
“We’ll add another school.
An institute of great repute!”
They screamed, “You bloody fool!”

He laughed, said, “Yup. But listen up,
Your research you can share.
And this is fun: it will be run
By CEOs--that’s fair!”

“The Institute, it will make the loot
We so sorrily need.”
Students said, “No!” Profs said, “Whoa!
You are making us bleed.”

Said to his face, “Where is this place?
And we already share!”
And came the shout, “Get business out!”
Tom Lu just brushed his hair.

Tom wanted to flee: “Where it will be,
I have no real idea.
When I find out, I will no doubt,
Tell you some time. See ‘ya!”




And now, today, the U of A
has asked some profs to leave.
“But they weren’t fired; they just retired!”
Said our Tommy, starting to weave.

“Tuition I’ll freeze!” (not other fees)
“I do it for their sakes.”
Though students cried, Tommy replied,
“Who pissed in your CornFlakes?”

At Tommy Lu, they threw a shoe;
he dodged and weaved and ducked.
They’re just so proud; they shout so loud,
“Our schools are truly . . . in a whole lot of trouble.” 
A Letter to the Editor of The Meliorist


I have sent the following letter to our student newspaper, The Meliorist.

Dear, Editor:

I am writing in regards to the drastic cuts to Alberta’s post secondary education system.  As you know, the Redford government ran on an election platform of modest, if predictable and stable funding to post secondary schools in Alberta.  Redford explained that post-secondary education would see a 2% increase each year for three years.

On 7 March of this year, the government dropped a budget that made cuts to post secondary education of more than 7%.  Our schools are still reeling, and the full effect of these cuts will not be felt for some time.  These cuts have devastated our institutions.

Now, our Minister of Advanced Education Ignorance, Mr. Thomas Lukaszuk has said that students will not feel the effects of these cuts:  “not on the backs of students,” is the oblivious rallying cry of the Redford government.  I would expect that students are already feeling the effects of these cuts with a rise in non-instructional fees, with fewer course offerings, and other signs of the disaster that will be unfolding over the next few years.  Mr. Lukaszuk is quite delighted with the fact that he has frozen tuition; bear in mind, students, that this tuition freeze lasts for one year.  When your tuition skyrockets next year, be sure that your anger is directed at the proper source.

Mr. Lukaszuk has attempted a divide and conquer strategy: he has attempted to woo students with a tuition freeze, with quarterly meetings with student leaders, and numerous photo-ops with students.  The students I know at the University of Lethbridge can see through this charade.

Mr. Lukaszuk has also stated that he has not heard much from students or their parents.  And it is this claim I hope you, students of the University of Lethbridge, will prove to be staggeringly inaccurate.  I urge you to contact Mr. Lukaszuk.  I urge you to follow the #abpse hashtag on Twitter.  I urge you to get involved and demand that the government reverse these cuts; let’s protect the University of Lethbridge and your education.

Let’s show Mr. Lukaszuk and the Redford government what a united, educated citizenry is able to accomplish.

Regards,

Dr. Jay Gamble

P.S.  The opinions expressed in this letter are mine and do not reflect the views of the University of Lethbridge or its administration.

P.P.S.  You may contact the Honourable Thomas Lukaszuk at the following addresses:

Twitter:  @ThomasLukaszukMLA
Phone: 780 427-5777
Fax: 780 422-8733 
Snail Mail: Lukaszuk, Thomas, Honourable
Deputy Premier and Minister 
Office of the Minister
Enterprise and Advanced Education
408 Legislature Building
10800 - 97 Avenue
Edmonton, AB
T5K 2B6

Thursday 19 September 2013


The Value of Literature

In my last post, I stated that I believed that what I taught was important and that I wanted to protect the study of literature.  I did not explain why I thought that, which I intend to do in this post.  Be aware, I am not going to cite studies that say business owners often look to hire English students or studies that indicate our current government’s attempt to direct what is taught (and researched) in our post-secondary schools is ill-conceived because the traits that make someone desirable to hire are most frequently traits fostered in the Humanities.  Those studies exist, but I am going to talk about why I think the study of literature is important.  As I see it, I am not training my students to improve their chances of getting hired, though that is a wonderful secondary advantage of studying English.  Instead, I am helping to develop thoughtful, critical, engaged citizens who are able to interpret, analyze, and synthesize information.  I say “helping to develop” because I am only a guide; it is the students who must do the work.

Some of what I will say is applicable to all education, some to the Arts, and some only to what I do in the classroom.  I am writing only from my experience behind the podium (or pacing in front of the classroom).  In this way, the post could be dismissed as purely anecdotal.  That’s fine.  In some ways, I am trying to explain why I love what I do.

I truly want my students to fall in love with the written and spoken word as much I have.  I know that will not be possible for every student, but I make an effort to make every student an English major.  I do so because I love it, because I enjoy it, and because literature has become an integral part of my life.  I earnestly hope that literature becomes a large part of my students’ lives, too, even if they don’t become English majors.

So what value do I see in literature that it is worth protecting from the thoughtless, destructive cuts of the Redford government?  As an undergraduate, my life was changed because I studied literature.  I became more compassionate, more understanding, more thoughtful.  I learned to value difference, not just to “tolerate” it.  I learned how our perceptions of reality are shaped by the language we use (or by the language that uses us).  That life-changing experience has a value that Mr. Lukaszuk has no time for; it produces no immediate money.

While I was doing my MA, I learned the value of community.  I learned how much I could learn from friends who shared similar interests.  I learned the joy of meeting, in person, authors I greatly admired.  I began to understand that the Canadian Literature I loved wasn’t a collection of books but a huge community of people, not always in agreement, but always passionate about literature.

I wrote my PhD dissertation on the ethics of absence in Canadian prairie literature.  That is a topic that could never be turned into the kind of profit Mr. Lukaszuk would like to see.  But it was a topic that inspired me, and in a course I now teach on occasion--Literature and Nothingness--I hope to bring the same passion to the classroom that I brought to writing that dissertation.  I want my students to share that passion--or find their own.

The poetry I now study and frequently teach could be called “avant-garde” or “innovative” or “experimental.”  Well, here’s a sample of the kind of poetry I most enjoying reading and teaching:  http://mediamogul.seas.upenn.edu/pennsound/video/Stefans/Kluge/_FILES/a_car_drives/index.htm.  Here’s another example:  http://ubumexico.centro.org.mx/sound/bok/Bok-Christian_from-Motorized-Razors.mp3  Really, I just recommend that you take a week off and explore ubu.com.

Why do I like “reading” and teaching that work?  First of all, it’s funny.  Secondly, all of the training I have had is almost useless when encountering work like that or aleatory verse, for example.  I have to think of new reading strategies, different approaches to finding meaning in the work.  I have to become creative as a “reader.”

Will any of my students ever be hired to provide a manager with an analysis of Christian Bök’s “Motorized Razors”?  Never.  Clearly, then, having students engage with “difficult,” fun poetry is of no value because you can’t pump oil with a sound poem.  I can’t imagine any employer interested in hiring a person trained to encounter the difficult and bizarre, and develop creative, innovative approaches to what seems unapproachable.

Mostly, I hope you take some time and explore ubu.com.  I also hope that this weekend, Mr. Lukaszuk is able to sit down and relax with a sound poem that I would like to send to him, personally.  It says just about everything I wish I could say to him:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnuTeB5o6y0