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Special thanks to Krista McCracken, Jessica Knapp, Maddie Knickerbocker, and Lee Blanding for helping me develop the ideas in this blog post.

 

This week marks the third anniversary of the creation of Unwritten Histories! In past years, we’ve celebrated in a couple of different ways. For our first anniversary, we took at a look at the first year of Unwritten Histories by the numbers. For our second anniversary, we profiled some amazing women-identified graduate students and recent graduates working across the country. I have to admit, I’ve been struggling to figure out what to do this year. But in light of recent events at the NCPH and in the Ethnicity, Race, and Migration program at Yale, and after having some long talks with my amazing friends, I’ve decided to take this opportunity to imagine what my ideal academic world would look like. Since this is a blog post, and you know that I am interested in practical solutions, I’ve decided to focus on three qualities that I think my ideal academic world would embrace: kindness, bravery, and curiosity. Below I talk about each one of these in turn, and offer some suggestions about how we can bring these three qualities in our life today. While change doesn’t happen overnight, small interventions can make a big difference, and

 

Kindness

As many scholars and writers have so eloquently pointed out, academia is not known for its kindness. As Kelly J. Baker has pointed out, academia can be a competitive and hostile environment that tends to value intellect and critique more than empathy and affect. Since 2008, the contraction of the academic job market has exacerbated this problem. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Imagine the possibilities if we, as profession, embraced the idea of radical kindness, and disrupted this competitive culture? Many of us already do this in small ways and in our personal lives. Like when we offer to read another person’s paper or call someone on the phone when they are having a bad day. But I would like to think even bigger. What if academia embraced the philosophy of being “compassionate, positive, and purpose-driven?”  This approach both recognizes and acknowledges differential power and positionality. It is not uncritical, but rather, it embraces constructive criticism as an important step in the evolution of ideas and the pursuit of a better world.

Here are some ways you can integrate kindness into your academic practice:

  • Making it a policy that any space you are inviting people into is a space that is accessible. Because otherwise, you are telling anyone who cannot access that space physically or emotionally that they are not welcome, that their contributions are not valid, and that you don’t care. There are lots of things you can do to make your space more accessible.
  • Build community. Embrace the principles of collaboration and solidarity. Foster relationships with people both inside and outside of your field.  Become a mentor. Pass the microphone.
  • Recognize the work of others. Thank all of the people who helped you to write an article in the footnotes. Send handwritten thank-you cards to individuals who have helped you. If you read an article or a book that you really enjoyed, drop the author a line and tell them so.

 

Bravery

I have to give Krista McCracken full credit for this one, since I first heard about the term “brave space” on their fantastic podcast, Historical Reminiscents (if you don’t already listen to it, you 100% should).  The term “brave spaces” was popularized by Brian Arao and Kristi Clemens with respect to social justice education, and was developed as an alternative to “safe space.” Alison Cook-Sather explains it like this:

Brave space, on the other hand, implies that there is indeed likely be danger or harm—threats that require bravery on the part of those who enter. But those who enter the space have the courage to face that danger and to take risks because they know they will be taken care of—that painful or difficult experiences will be acknowledged and supported, not avoided or eliminated. The shift […] focuses our attention on the active engagement and agency required of participants in spaces intended to support learning. In other words, using “brave” rather “safe” not only sets a tone for engagement but also proposes a mode of engagement.

In other words, the term “brave space” recognizes that learning necessarily involves risk. Once we accept this, we can create a space where individuals are prepared for and feel supported in engaging in difficult discussions.  While all of the authors mentioned thus far refer to brave space in relation to education, I think it has much to offer academia in general. When we create brave space in academia, we cultivate an environment where we can ask difficult questions and challenge difficult topics. But at the same time, it recognizes and values the support networks, everyday courage, and accountability necessary to do this work.

Creating brave spaces in academia can take many forms. Here are some suggestions:

 

Curiosity

When I talk about curiosity in academia, I am not simply talking about intellectual curiosity, nor am I talking about curiosity for curiosity’s sake. Instead, I am talking about being open to possibilities, asking questions, and taking chances. It is about learning to be comfortable with discomfort and uncertainty. Many others, including myself, argued that learning should be uncomfortable, to make students question the world around them, to challenge their fundamental beliefs. Doing so enables students to be self-reflexive while considering other perspectives. But something we often overlook is that professors are also life-long learners (aka, students), or at least, we should be.

While I think curiosity is important for our research and teaching, I also want to think bigger. In ideal circumstances, academia is supposed to be a space where individuals can be curious together. As Janine Utell asks, how would colleges and universities change if we were more curious about the lived reality of our students and our colleagues? What’s more, she wonders,

Would that curiosity prompt a desire to enter into those realities in an empathetic way?  Would it prompt different questions about how we should be doing things?  Would it prompt change? I came to this job out of a deep sense of curiosity. […] I wonder if that sense of curiosity must be one of the things that helps make academia the kind of workplace it can and should be, by being present in and transforming what we do.

I think that these are important questions to be asking. Here are some more things to consider with respect to curiosity and academia:

  • Think about your motivations. Why are you teaching a course in a particular way? What is the purpose of my research? Does my research benefit the communities it studies? Am I the best person to be doing this research, or is there someone else?
  • Think about what your ideal academic world would look like. What kind of qualities would it have? How would it change? What can you do to make this a reality?
  • Try something new and different. Fail. Get back up and try again.

 

I think that it is important that we recognize the power that we have to change the world that we live in. Systemic change doesn’t happen overnight, but when people imagine new possibilities, model inclusive behaviour, and work together, real change can and does happen. I know this because I’ve seen just how passionate, purposeful, thoughtful, and compassionate academics can be, and we can accomplish anything we set out minds to.

I hope you enjoyed this week’s blog post. If you did, please consider sharing it on the social media platform of your choice.  And don’t forget to check back on Friday for Stephanie’s regular look at upcoming publications. (She was going to do this last week, but then she got sick! 🙁 ) See you then!

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