One spoon-fed history major gags: a late course evaluation

To the Editor:

My email plan's changed a lot since I got here. It started off light, bright, wordless. Three years later it'll tell you I'm Becky "what I wouldn't give to see this school go up in flames" Wolfinger. You might ask me why, if you're one of the people here who seem puzzled by everything that comes out of my mouth. Why are you so angry?

Let's get right down to it.

Reason #1051, letter a: History 253, Recent America since 1940, Professor David Stradling. I'm a History major, daughter of two historians. This class was one of the last ones that I was taking to finish my major. 200-level - no big deal. I wanted to learn about what happened in U.S. post WWII - the part we never got to in high school. I came to the class with these curricular and intellectual goals as this biracial Black dyke who passes as a boy. Maybe that was my mistake.

I don't remember exactly when I figured out that something was really wrong. Maybe when we spent a day talking about rock and roll and then a day talking about civil rights. David presented his neat little theory on the three interlocking parts of oppression: social exclusion, political disempowerment, and economic discrimination. Maybe he asked the class which societal group didn't fit this pattern. Someone said "Women?" He said no. Someone else said, "Jews?" He said yeah, Jews didn't fit the economic discrimination part of this pattern. It happened so fast. The last person said, "Gays and lesbians?" "Yes," he said, "Homosexuals aren't economically discriminated against." I thought about the unquestioned stereotype of the rich Jews who control everything. I thought about how nice it was to be rich and white and a man and to control everything with my homosexual dollars. And ENDA.

Maybe I should have known when another woman of color asked David if she could present from other classes to supplement or challenge what David was teaching. David said she could but his body actions told her to be quiet. When she finished he invalidated her conclusions. I definitely knew when he used the phrase "intellectually limited" while talking about African Americans in inner city areas during the 1960s. When he called American Indians of mixed race "mixed breeds." When I raised my hand what seemed like over and over again to challenge him and it was clear he didn't respect my input. And God, there was so much I didn't say.

(The chronology here isn't exact) Then I took the midterm and got the kind of grade I've never gotten in any class, let alone a history class. My argument explicitly criticized David's simplistic, white-centered presentation of the African American Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s. I went to talk to the chair of the history department. We discussed class dynamics and how I dreaded going to class. I said I thought that, rather than being graded on how well I historically supported my arguments (a naive expectation), I was being graded on my arguments themselves. I knew I could never "prove" this to defensive faculty members - grades on essay exams are "subjective." But I knew the grades my friends had gotten and that David had told the class he graded high. He told me that David was new to teaching and could really learn from constructive criticism. And, he added, Oberlin College really needs students who question things - that's one of the things that makes Oberlin great. The word "commodity" came to mind. I thought about my recent flashes of clarity, knowing in a rushing, inner screaming kind of way that my being at this school is about me being an asset to the people who "belong" here.

Next David told me to see him in his office.He told me the things I'd done in class that disturbed him (which, surprisingly did not include the time that he asked our class what Eyes on the Prize video we wanted to see on optional class day and I said the Black Panthers one where they sing, "The revolution has come. It's time to pick up the guns."). I pointed out my issues with how he taught. He didn't get it. At the end of the conversation he said he didn't think having both of us in the class was working and that he was the professor so it might be better if I left. Maybe I was stunned, sitting there - what did it mean for my grade that he felt like it was okay to say that to me? Maybe I was angry and said I thought it was really inappropriate for him to say that. Maybe I told people and they said that was really awful and was it okay for him to do that? And I realized he'd been saying I wasn't welcome at all.

Maybe I tried to explain that to people too. Maybe not very many people got it. Maybe that means what he did was okay. Maybe that's what you're thinking - maybe you're putting yourself in his place and thinking about some uppity student doing that to you. Maybe you told me that it's all about his academic freedom to teach his class his way and that we can't censor people even if we don't agree with them. Maybe you know best.

Maybe in the end, for me, it's all about alternate realities. The fact that our classrooms are supposed to be places open to dissenting viewpoints, our grades are supposed to reflect how well we support our arguments and not our politics. But I dropped this class in the end, after being told I couldn't get the hours without David grading me. I was told that his asking me to leave the class didn't mean that he wouldn't be able to grade me objectively. So David was right in the end. He thought it was okay to ask me to leave his class after making it clear that he didn't value or respect my participation. He got what he wanted. I'm supposed to turn this into a learning experience. Tell me again how I'm privileged to be here and put up with you.

So, this letter is an FYI for students like me who are thinking about taking a class with David. It's not directed at anyone -there are plenty of students who agree with David's politics and teaching style. They actively supported his actions in class, unlike the silent students who told me outside of class they didn't agree with him. This is for David, to explain why I didn't respond when you said hi to me in the history department hallway the other day: I am so angry. I'm never going to pretend that this didn't happen. I'm tired of feeling humiliated and degraded. Here is my rage.