Teaching as Working at Home

A colleague sent me a link to this New York Times piece (“Debunking the Myths of the Telecommute“) about telecommuting. It’s an interesting comparison to my own working-at-home teaching. There are a lot of similarities: the writer and I both use lists, and we both try to respond to our colleagues and bosses promptly. There are some real differences too. I don’t care if my neighbors see me walking around in shorts and a t-shirt all day (my pajamas) and I don’t begin the day by taking a shower, exactly as if I were going into an office. I might do that, though, if I didn’t live alone.

My days are structured by meals and exercise and errands. Sometimes I do take a day or an afternoon off to do something with my partner, Elise; mostly, though, we’re together nights and weekends. In between, I write, and most of the writing I do is to students and, less often, colleagues. That might be the single most important characteristic of the work I do: I teach writing, and most of the time, I communicate in writing. I also think that as an academic, my working style is more like the author’s experiences in the software industry, although I have no flip flops.

She’s right, too, when she emphasizes the need for self-discipline and a kind of internalized accountability. I’m not my own boss, by any means, but since the boss can’t come strolling by my cubicle, I have to police my own working habits. No doubt that’s one reason the writer takes that shower each morning. It’s the rituals that give work substance and reality. Capitalism has always depended on those rituals to give accumulation the air of natural inevitability. Educated workers, too, can decorate their working lives with status nick nacks, corner offices and the like.

What happens if all of that dissipated into the individual or family house? An Edmonds.com executive has status and power; online faculty less so. I think, though, that capitalism would loose something profoundly important if the majority of us didn’t have to go through these daily working life rituals. At this point, no doubt, those of us doing it are more or less self-selected for our internalized authority. Academics in particular are used to working on their own without rocking the boat. Theoretically, though, the pool of telecommuters could grow large enough to pose a real challenge to business as usual.

It’s the Inequity, Stupid

Doug Henwood has a great interview with Diane Ravitch about her new book, “The Death and Life of the Great American School System: How Testing and Choice Are Undermining Education.” (I am once again catching up on podcasts.) Ravitch basically repeats what’s more or less common sense among people who study education: it’s not bad teachers, or the unions, or not teaching the basics that’s so damaging to public education. It’s the inequity, stupid.

A school’s potential impact on a child’s learning is dependent on certain preconditions. If you are poor, not well fed, don’t have good medical care, etc. you won’t do very well. Duh. Of course, what’s so horrific is that instead of dealing with the inequity that’s at the root of the problems in the public schools, we push for more testing, claim that certain schools are failing and privatize them, negotiate contracts that would make it easier to fire teachers, etc.

Anything and everything but injustice. Injustice is hard. Sadly, nothing’s changed with the Obama administration. I was also reading about the Khan Academy, which creates free tutoring videos for K-12 students, in all sorts of subject. They’ll help certain students and I hope teachers use them. It’s got me thinking about technology, class, and autodidacts. I admire the effort, of course, but it’s a classic American response to a social problem.

Short of the autodidact contingent, whose numbers might be growing, this sort of liberalism is much less than it seems. In the end, it reminds me that most public school teachers routinely buy their own basic supplies; that music and arts programs are decimated while football thrives; that school’s serve junk food for lunch every day, despite the epidemic of obesity. Good educational tools are always welcome, but you can’t fight these sorts of battles one student at a time.

One More Time, With Feeling; or, Who’s Afraid of Democratic Socialism?

I’ve recently heard some conversation trying to sully or tarnish the idea of openness by associating it with socialism. (Of course, if there’s anything you don’t like in the US today the standard response is to label it “socialist,” despite the fact that many labelers can neither define nor spell the term properly.) However, from my perspective some of the most important forms of openness are simply about obeying one of the standard laws of capitalism: if I pay for a good or service, I am entitled to the good or service. Could the market (or society) survive if we didn’t obey this rule?

David WielyThe Twice-Paid Paradox

Mr. Wiley is one of the good guys whose ideas we can only hope prevail. But I have to say this recent post drove me a little batty. After the election of Obama last year, you would think that we would all be rushing to create a new, more challenging rhetoric that would push the ideals of democracy forward rather than simply reacting to the wing-nut tea beggars whose masters only wish to create a false sense of outrage behind which they can hide obstructionist policies. The longer they wait, they think, the most tarnished the liberal majority in Congress and the more successfully they can promote their reactionary policies.

Mr. Wiley’s argument is an old one with a certain veracity. This looks like radicalism, but if you look closely, it’s not. Open culture and software is simply capitalism repeated, with a difference. I don’t think that argument has ever worked with anyone other than true believers (and some of the believers are probably being cynical). I think he should just keep working on articulating the positive effects, economically, socially, and politically, of not allowing private property to dominate technological development. It took a generation to make capitalism a good word again. It’ll take another to clean up democratic socialism.

Made Not Born: The Power of the Humanities in Capitalism

Not to get all technical, but most of the time the capitalist market is almost shockingly reified, even by academics who you think would know better. The market, at best a rough description of a myriad of social and economic forces, seems to be constantly doing things that we just can’t do much about. Sometimes it’s explicit and almost religious in tone– the market is omnipotent and infallible– and sometimes its implicit.

There’s rarely any larger agency behind the decimation of the U.S. automobile industry, for example; it’s simply the unions and foreign competition. (More recently, however, poor management is sometimes blamed.) It didn’t just happen, though, by magic; the industry was destroyed by short term thinking and by a long term drive to weaken unions in the United States. The specifics of the history will be debated for a long time, but it was people, and greed, not the market, that made it happen.

I had the same same sort of reaction to a recent piece in the Chronicle of Higher Education (“We Need to Acknowledge the Realities of Employment in the Humanities“). It’s not so much that the author has his facts wrong, he’s done his research. No, what bothers me is his implicit assumption that our only real choice is to adapt to the current conditions of “the market.” History, it seems, has moved on, and all the humanities can do is try to live as well as possible in this brave new world.

Don’t get me wrong, that aggregate of social forces we call the market is no limp biscuit and creating a new set of conditions for the humanities won’t be easy. It’s been done before, though, under much worse conditions. In fact, the “humanities” system now lamented by so many, and dominated among other things by full time tenured faculty, was established during the middle decades of the last century, a time dominated by world war and depression.

What was different? We were coming out of a period of progressive reform, for one thing, and for another, the working class was much better organized and much more actively fighting for it’s own interests. Even if academics never fully joined the unionization movement, the power of labor in this period led to all sorts of generous concessions, including a liberal higher education system. The place of the humanities wasn’t born, it was made in struggle. It won’t return without more of the same sort of fighting.