Archive for March, 2014

By Blake Whitmore, RMU Student.

With Obama’s approval rating at an all-time low and serious issues like raising minimum wage and Obamacare being hot topics, people are flocking to Facebook to voice their opinions. Inevitably, debates begin. Friends are lost, family members are enraged, and rarely is a solution ever met. But with these 5 easy steps, you can win every Facebook argument ever.

1. Copy & paste EVERYTHING into Google
Research to find out if anything your opponent said is inaccurate or from a terrible source, like Joe Shmoe’s blog or Fox News. Chances are your opponent has done little to no research on this important political topic, just like you. So find all of their errors, manipulate them to your advantage, and finally exploit them!

duty_calls2. Present data & numbers
It does not really matter if your data has sources; people like numbers. List dollar amounts and percentages so people will think you are smart and informed. Be specific too. Throw in a few decimal places to make is all look legit.

3. Repeat yourself over and over and over and….
If your opponent did not respond the way you hoped just rephrase your statement and comment again. Eventually you will get the right wording that they will understand and ultimately you will change their opinion.

4. Expand your vocabulary
Make sure to use large words that you only vaguely understand. Your opponent will think you are more educated than them. Make sure to hit on all the hot button words you heard on the news while walking by the television this morning: socialized healthcare, debt ceiling, deficit, and economic inflation. We are all unparagoned, so you have to assert that you are smarter. You want to make sure to nidificate the situation. Throw in a excogitative statement about Bitcoin, because no one actually knows how that works, but you can sound like you do!

5. Put your foot down
Your opponent is definitely wrong. Make that very clear throughout the argument. Start your statements with, “The cold hard fact is…”. That makes it sound super serious and really important. It will terrify your opponent and make them cower in fear behind their keyboards. They will eventually submit and tell you that you were right. You knew you were right from the beginning, but there’s nothing like validation from Facebook friends you haven’t seen in years.

Congratulations! You now have the skills to win any political debate on Facebook!

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By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty. 

In high school, my indefatigable math teacher, Mr. Sycz, informed me and the rest of his unsuspecting students that the majority of adult life is spent at work. As such, he wisely advised us to choose our careers carefully. What he failed to mention was that all those hours at work will be spent with other people. Regrettably, there is no way to select our coworkers; the only recourse is to cross your fingers. How fortunate, then, that I love both what I do and the people with whom I work.

I’ve always liked working cooperatively with others, a natural result of growing up with six siblings. At every job I’ve had in my 25 years of RMUILsealwork (Cowgill Printing, McDonald’s, Dimitri’s Restaurant, Mr. Todd’s Cleaners, Royalview Manor, First Community Village, The Courtyard, Country Counter, Dick’s Last Resort, Cleveland State University, Kent State University, Cuyahoga Community College, Grafton Street Pub, Lakeland Community College, Academy at the Lakes, Hillsborough Community College, Harold Washington College, Columbia College, and RMU), I’ve met and worked with fantastic people who’ve helped make any work less tiresome. The same is true here at good ol’ RMU, where I have worked since arriving in Chicago in 2007.

My RMU colleagues are tremendous people, and we know each other incredibly well. Since my coworkers are diligent and dedicated teachers, I am already predisposed to like them and admire their efforts. They are all CLAwonderfully smart, too, of course, each in his or her unique way. Everyone I work with will stop to help a fellow teacher or student. Everyone will devote his or her expertise to our shared purpose: the endlessly worthwhile endeavor of education.

Most importantly, my co-workers at RMU, specifically the CLA members (many of them Turtle writers, too) are generous and thoughtful. What follows is just a small sampling of the everyday—but in no way ordinary—kindnesses my colleagues show to one another.

Paula provides lunch when Fridays involve the dreaded all-day meetings.

If there are cookies next to the coffee pot, they are probably courtesy of Turtle father Michael.

Jenny supplies us all with fresh vegetables from her considerable garden.

Pyle created the “cabinet of wonders,” a repository of free books, Cd’s, and DVD’s to share.

I’d be surprised to find a more sympathetic listener than Ellen.

Cynthia keeps the refrigerator stocked with fancy flavored creams to augment the free coffee.

Pat McNicholas brings homemade fudge every finals week.

Paul jots down the best zingers on his whiteboard to highlight the general goofiness in the CLA suite.

If Peter does anything, you can bet it will be done with “alacrity and aplomb.”

Like any good family, we endure each other’s idiosyncrasies, often turning flaws into perfections of a different kind. Mick tells the same Irish jokes every St. Patrick’s Day, year after year: how excruciatingly wonderful.

When my colleagues aren’t busy conducting research, planning curriculum, teaching classes, grading papers, or attending meetings, we can be found in the CLA office giggling like teenagers. We pretend that we are in a workplace sitcom called “RMU Kiddin’ Me.” We’re all certain the show would be hilarious, of course, which illustrates my good fortune in both terms of my job and my coworkers.

There is nothing quite as delightful as laughing at work, something I enjoy every single day. The funniest line or exchange will be added to Paul’szipper white board. If a joke is too inappropriate, it is designated as “Invisible Whiteboard” material and will remain a joke amongst ourselves.

Today

Paul, “I’ll send you the ZIP file.”

Me, “I can never remember how to unzip things.”

Paul, “Then how do you get dressed in the morning?”

Insert the cutesy sitcom title here.

By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty. 

This week, I substituted for a colleague, and taught her ENG 211 course for a two-hour class period. Because I know it’s difficult to “embrace” a substitute (even though I’d taught nearly every student in the class before), I planned something fun for the day.

We watched “How Beer Saved the World,”  a one-hour Discovery Channel special available as a 44-minute video available on Netflix. The beerlength of the video is always relevant. Attention spans aren’t what they used to be. The subject matter seemed relevant to my audience of college students, especially as spring break is approaching.

The course is devoted to a study of argument, so the subject matter is irrelevant: the lesson is what matters.

The program is plagued by issues of inconsistent tone, which the students noticed immediately. The intermixture of dreadfully kitschy animation, ultra-serious voice over narration, and a few too many portly experts sipping pints while explaining the merits of beer became worrying. Another issue was the incessant product placement: clearly Miller Brewing and Coors Light offered some (if not all) of the funding dollars for this project. I wanted the students to identify what undermined the effectiveness of the argument back, and they did.

Honestly, it’s easier to teach source material that is flawed, just like it’s easier to write negative reviews. It’s important to note that criticism does serve a vital function, as brilliantly illustrated in Anton Ego’s epiphany in the fabulous film Ratatouille.

A deep understanding of the nature and purposes of critique informs the core of everything I teach and know.

I was impressed by the students’ analysis. They doubted the credibility of the sources. They asked why the negative attributes of beer were not even considered. They were a tough audience. Hurrah!

They also expressed suspicion with regard to the “facts” as presented in the piece. The most interesting definitely required “Googling” for veracity.

Fun Fact #1

The Star-Spangled Banner was based on a melody from a drinking song: Fact.

Fun Fact #2

Louis Pasteur conducted scientific research on beer: Truth, he used milk, beer, and wine in his pasteurization experiments.

Fun Fact #3

Refrigeration was largely the result of efforts by beer makers who wanted to make cold lager year round. Doubtful; my preliminary research suggests that many industries funded research in refrigeration to serve the purposes and needs of the product manufactured.

When beer enthusiasts (or companies, or researchers) want to understand the significance of beer throughout human history, they begin with the supposition that beer had a significant impact on human history, and seek to prove that supposition.

The students wondered asked “why have we never heard this before? Why isn’t in textbooks?”

Despite their willingness to question some facts, they have only just begun (perhaps) to question “fact” as a construct. They still think that all factsalong they’ve been told the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

The lesson represented another step on their path of knowing, the larger realization that all knowledge is more than incomplete. Viewpoint is always skewed. When pictures of the earth taken from space are shown, they are presented as though the spacecraft is “above” the earth, but space isn’t linear. It’s 3-dimensional. The shuttle is off of the earth, away from the earth, at a distance that is neither above, nor below, but outside.

The complexity of knowing is one of its particular beauties. Ultimately, everything we know is limited, but that doesn’t mean we should stop looking for answers.

 

By Michael Stelzer Jocks, History Faculty. 

If there is anything I have learned from studying history the last twenty years (my goodness, I can’t believe it has been that long since I began my undergraduate studies), it is that the past affects every aspect of our lives. This took me awhile to grasp, since as a teenager and twenty-something, I assumed my worldview was a self-created thing; I thought that I had the power to pick and choose what I wanted from the ideas and memories of yesteryear.  Studying history in all its guises has made me see that I was a foolish kid. All our lives are molded by the most idiosyncratic remnants of days long gone.

With this in mind, let me give you a odd historical example illustrating how mentalities don’t die, though humans do.

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Voltaire

François-Marie Arouet, better known as Voltaire, died May 30th, 1778.  A playwright, philosopher, novelist, political thinker, and much more, Voltaire was, and still is, understood as being a giant of the 18th century era known as the Enlightenment.  Though not an outspoken political radical, Voltaire was a champion of revolutionary cultural ideals.  Most infamously in his day, he was an often harsh critic of organized religion and, specifically, the Catholic Church.  Here is one of many of his anti-clerical statements:

Every sensible man, every honest man, must hold the Christian sect in horror. ‘But what shall we substitute in its place?’, you say. What? A ferocious animal has sucked the blood of my relatives. I tell you to rid yourselves of this beast, and you ask me what you shall put in its place?

In 18th century Europe, holding such opinions, much less stating them, was a dangerous proposition.  Voltaire played with fire, which made him one of the most admired, most feared, and most despised men of European letters at the time of his death.  It would take 11 years, and the anti-clerical French Revolution to redeem Voltaire’s memory.

The Revolution of 1789 and its adherents waxed and waned in their feelings towards religion.  Some were outright atheists.  Some were deists.  Some were romantic Christians.  As a whole however, the Revolution as a political movement would try to control religion, either by making the church subservient to the nation, or even by transforming the revelatory nature of Christianity into the naturally rational cult of a faceless Supreme Being.  Hence, by 1791, Voltaire was transformed from being a dangerous, though popular rebel, to a nationally recognized prophet of the French nation.

The French Revolution and the French nation had martyrs and saints.  Voltaire would become the latter.  He didn’t die for the cause, but he did face persecution for his beliefs by a ‘tyrannical’ French pre-revolutionary state, and he would need to be recognized as such.  What better way to do so than moving his mortal remains to the Revolutionary state’s temple, the Pantheon? Nothing really new to all this hullabaloo.  Each nation recognizes those early forebears, and seers who foreshadowed the nation.  America is no different. Think Lincoln, Washington, and their respective monuments.  However, this story veers in an unexpected direction.  Friends and enemies of the Revolution began to fight regarding Voltaire’s state of decomposition.

Simon_Charles_Miger,_Translation_de_Voltaire_au_Panthéon_Français,_1817

Moving Voltaire to the Pantheon

As the French historian Antoine de Baecque points out his book, Glory and Terror: Seven Deaths Under the French Revolution, the state of Voltaire’s remains was controversial.  After disinterring the body of the great man, two conflicting sets of rumors began to spread. Amongst the friends of the Revolution, it soon became gospel that Voltaire’s body was perfectly preserved, 13 years after being buried (he had been embalmed, so this makes some sense).  But there was more: The Voltaire lovers relayed seemingly miraculous stories.  Not only was Voltaire’s remains perfectly preserved, but they also smelled….good.  The body was not decomposed, and had a sweet bouquet.  On the other hand, those enemies of the Revolution, and the haters of Voltaire gossiped the opposite.  Voltaire was actually a disgusting, rotted piece of decomposed flesh that was embarrassingly earthly.  The smell of the remains in this story, instead of being sweet, were radically worst than one would expect. It was as if the infidel’s remains had the whiff of hellish brimstone about them.

What in the world was this all about?  Well, to understand this ghoulish argument, we need to realize that this discourse of bodily remains was much older than Voltaire.  The Catholic church, going all the way back to its earliest days, argued for the incorruptibility of their saint’s bodies.  It would be proof of sacredness if a saint’s body was incorruptible; it would be a sign of God’s love if the dead saint smelled not rancid, but delightful. So, when the argument over 60835932Voltaire’s body arose, it was done so in the discourse of Catholicism. What the what?  Superstition’s most famous enemy was now being turned into a saint by those whom he influenced. History does indeed repeat itself.

I love this story for two reasons. First, it is just weird and unforgettable tale, showing the strange beliefs of humans.  Second, and more importantly, it is a perfect example of what effect the past can have on all of us.   Even the French Revolutionaries, those who hoped to create the world anew, and in many ways did so, still could not escape their bygone forerunners.  They were locked into a rut of history. You and I are no different.

By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty.

Parades are wacky, wonderful, and nonsensical—and that is just three of the things I love about them.

Every parade is replete with a peculiar set of activities and traditions both whimsical and weird. Parades have existed since the earliest days of civilization, with roots in military and political endeavors. What is perhaps more intriguing is that parades persist. In the 21st century, parades seem a sweet remnant of simpler times, but I suspect there has always been something nostalgic about parades. Once a parade starts, history, tradition, 29Cparade.jpgand inevitability converge to propel it infinitely forward.

My own history includes innumerable parades. For years in the Memorial Day parade in my hometown with my Girl Scout Troop; all of the girls dressed in scouting uniforms, carrying flowers to put on the graves of soldiers buried in the local cemetery. Always sentimental, I created a private tradition of placing my flowers on the same grave every year. My nieces and nephews, and children of girls I knew long ago, now walk in that parade, or watch from the sidewalk, hoping to catch some of the candy thrown into the crowd.

Gratifyingly, parades cling to a specific place and time. Traditions are decidedly local. I’ve only ever seen candy thrown at parades in Ohio. Other parades involve different rituals, but giving gifts to the crowd is a frequent practice. Whether stickers or bracelets or beads, useless trinkets are transformed into highly sought-after prizes along a parade route.

From August 2006 and June 2007, I lived in Tampa, Florida, home to two true “event” parades which were the highlight of my time there. Guavaween, a rowdy mardi-gras-like guavaweencelebration of Halloween, was held in the nightlife enclave of Tampa known as Ybor City. This parade was decidedly adult, with many risqué costumes and others that were truly frightening.  I’m glad I witnessed the unbridled mayhem while it lasted. Sadly, the event has been tamed in recent years.

gasparillaAnother terrific Tampa tradition is Gasparilla, with pirate-themed celebrations. Gasparilla is held in January, and includes both a parade of boats in Tampa Bay and two separate parades down the street beside the bay, the accurately named Bay-to-Bay Avenue. Events devoted to this celebration are exciting, with an alcohol-free Children’s parade one week before the alcohol-friendly all-ages version. The main street parade lasts more than two hours, and the onlookers are nearly as engaging as the parade itself.

This summer my getaway to the Pacific Northwest includes stays in Portland and Seattle, a week selected in order to attend a parade in both cities. The day I arrive in Portland, July 23rd, The Oregon Brewers Festival kicks off with—you guessed it: a parade dedicated to beer! The following Saturday, July 26th, I will arrive in Seattle just in time for The Torchlight parade.

A Midwest favorite is the “Cheese Parade,” which I discovered with my Urban Family a few years ago at The Monroe County Wisconsin Cheese Days. All about cheese, the parade is ushered in by a pair of cows that walk postcard-front-cheese-days-2010down the street while people watch and applaud. Cheese Days are celebrated every other year, most likely to provide plenty of planning and production time for elaborate cheese-themed floats. 2014’s Cheese Days marks the centennial celebration, and, yes, the Urban Family will be there.

CT st-patricks05.jpgDressing in thematic attire is the playful part of preposterous parade fun. People of all ages wear absurdly ridiculous items to get in the spirit. Temporary tattoos, sparkling headbands, enormous hats, tiny hats, wigs and wings: anything goes at a parade. Dressing pets in costume is also common practice. I’ve seen more than one dog dyed green to match the Chicago River on St. Patty’s Day.

Saturday, March 20, 2014 is the St. Patrick’s Day parade in downtown Chicago. The parade is held on the Saturday before the actual holiday because too many kids miss school if the parade is held on a weekday. The St. Patrick’s Day parade is serious business in Chicago.

Rather miraculously, I have been invited by a colleague to walk with him as he plays in a pipe and drum band in this year’s Chicago St. Patrick’s Day Parade.

Have I mentioned that I adore bagpipes?

 

By Michael Stelzer Jocks, History Faculty.

My youngest daughter turned five last October. For her birthday, her aunt and uncle, my sister-in-law and brother, got her a funky pair of pink 578688_10201388189609185_1668997307_nrimmed glasses.  She was extremely excited, and so was her older sister.  The seven year old sis instantly knew what she wanted for her upcoming birthday. ‘I want some glasses just like that!’

When December rolled around, said older daughter got a package in the mail from said aunt and uncle.  Sure enough, inside was a new pair of glasses.  Happy day!

Neither of my girls need glasses to read or to see far away (unlike their parents), and so these glasses are simply fashion accessories. They wear them some days, and not others.  Often, when they want to ‘dress up’ fancy, they will break out their frames.  Wearing them to school, or preschool is all about the image.

I would be remiss to point out how wonderful I find this.   The perception surrounding glasses seems to be evolving from when I was a kid. 715swU1WPgL Back then, there was a stigma to wearing glasses, and that stigma was an American tradition.  It was so common that you can even find the normalization of this stigma in children’s books of my era.   Take for instance Marc Brown’s book Arthur’s Eyes, in which Arthur the Aardvark needs to get glasses.  The first day he shows up at the bus stop with his new eye-wear his friends laugh at him.  His best friend Buster even calls him a  ‘freak’. In 1979, when this book was published, glasses were obviously a symbol of the social outsider that everyone, even children, could recognize. If my daughters’ friends and classmates are any indication, this traditional stigma is dissipating among kids today.

What a revolutionary change  this could be for American culture!  Just look at the twentieth-century outsider terms for those who wore glasses: Nerds, geeks, and eggheads.  These people were outsiders in schools, at parties and within pop-culture because they were intellectuals. Glasses=brainiacs=social outcasts. Perhaps now this stereotype is transforming. Perhaps being smart is becoming, dare I say it, cool?

I hope so, but I want glasses to remain a perceived sign of intelligence, since the psychological process called  ‘enclothed cognition‘ may make this perception into a reality.  Put simply, ‘enclothed cognition’ studies have found wearing certain clothes can have positive or negative effects on cognitive processes.  Wearing a lab coat can make people think more clearly; wearing exercise clothes will make people want to work-out more. As far as I know, studies have never been done regarding the effect of wearing glasses on our cognitive processes. But, it seems only logical that the perception that glasses make you look smarter will make you feel smarter, which, in turn, will actually make you smarter.

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Are glasses going to remain cool, or is this just a fad?  I don’t know. All I know is that I will keep pushing my kids to wear glasses, even if they never need them for medical reasons. They and their friends may or may not think it makes them look smarter; there is no question in my mind it makes them look cute.

By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty

My first experience with short films was in 2001. My friend Ingrid and I went to see the Oscar Nominated short films at Cedar Lee Theater in Cleveland. I vividly remember the short film from Poland we saw that night; it was heartbreaking and terrific. For years I’ve intended to find the title of the film, and this post has urged me to conclude my search at last. Not only did I discover the name of the film that has remained vivid in my mind, A Man Thing (Meska Sprawa), I discovered that the director’s 2006 film Retrieval was also nominated for an Oscar, in the category of best foreign language film. His career and films are absolutely worth watching.

film-reelThe role and importance of short film was part of a conversation I’d had a few weeks before with my colleagues (and Turtle bloggers), Paul and Jenny. We were chatting about how watch-at-will programming is changing the way we experience film and television (due to Netflix and other streaming options). We noted examples of new formats that break the traditional model of North American television and film. In the case of Sherlock, three 1.5 hour episodes per season results not in a television season, but a rapid-fire film trilogy. No waiting for years between films, no extended weekly commitment.

Another appealing attribute of short films is their similarity to short stories: both are intense, character-driven, and conducive to high artistic achievement. Just as there are no “throw-away” lines in short stories, there are no extraneous moments in short films. They exist in the precise space necessary to accommodate the themes explored. The material dictates the length of what is created, form follows function.

Mostly, I watch short films hoping to be exposed to yet another phenomenal emerging filmmaker. I was delighted that the recipients of the Academy Awards for short film this year are both first-time filmmakers. Short films and short stories can offer a critical testing ground for new talent. Few writers have the wherewithal to produce a book-length work early in their careers, and the same is true for most aspiring filmmakers. Artists need practice, exposure, and support to develop their material, and short works enable this crucial experimentation and exploration.

This year, my friend Kris and I went to the Landmark Theater at Clark and Diversey to watch the animated shorts. The films we saw were hysterical, heartfelt, and haunting. The best in the animation category included this year’s winner, Mr. Hublot from Luxembourg.

I was delighted by the entrant from England, Room on the Broom, which features a fantastically put-upon cartoon cat more expressive than most characters in popular film. My favorite is the eerie, evocative Feral, another example of strikingly original artwork at its best.

The day before the Oscars, I squeezed in a viewing of the live action shorts at The Logan Theater. The winning film, Helium, was sad and sweet, innocent, yet knowing. The Voorman Problem illustrated wonderful British wit. I had enormous issues with the film from Spain; the nicest thing I can say about it is to say nothing at all. I have yet to see the short documentaries, but I will try to find a venue to see them. Too often, mainstream films address nothing other than too much of the same. Short films offer new things to see and ways of seeing. I encourage you to explore these innovative films, too.

By Michael Stelzer Jocks, History Faculty.

Each of the last three terms, I have taught RMU students about the Holocaust.  I created this course on history’s most infamous genocide, and it is, as compared to the most of the survey history classes our students take, extremely detailed.  To properly cover such a topic within 10 weeks is quite challenging. One hurdle to face is the seemingly simple question: Where to begin?  Should the course focus solely upon the Twentieth Century?  Or, should it range back to the earliest days of European Antisemitism; perhaps even back to the break of Christianity from Judaism?  It is a difficult issue, but, after teaching the course numerous times, I have a methodology.  The first class in the course focuses upon Christian Antisemitism and anti-Judaism from the earliest days, down to the beginnings of the early modern European world (circa 1600).

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Antisemitism as a term was first used by anti-Jewish political parties

Obviously, this is a great deal of information to dole out to students in 90 minutes, and though I think I have gotten pretty good at painting with a broad historical analytical brush, I recently realized I faced a problem in this initial course.  The first couple times I taught the course, I quickly jumped into the history of Antisemitism, using the term Antisemitism over and over during my first lecture.  Most students seemed interested, and appeared to recognize the word.  Then, maybe a year ago, when I mentioned Antisemitism for the first time in class, I noticed a furrowed brow or two among my students.  Hmmm.  Why the confusion? Then, it struck me: These students don’t recognize the term.  Sure enough, when I asked my students who knew what Antisemitism was, I only saw a tentative smattering of hands.  My mind zoomed back to my previous courses. What if the vast majority of my students had NO idea what I meant in any of those classes when I first used the term Antisemitism?

I jumped into action.  I needed to clearly define the term.  Or, better yet, I would ask my students to find a definition for me.

Understand that I write this not as a critique of my students, but as a critique of myself.  I had been making the worst assumption a teacher can make.  I lazily figured that my students have the same information in their heads that I do. The power of this classroom incident really struck home for me recently when I stumbled upon a wonderful, important article in The Atlantic titled, “To Read Dickens, It helps to know about French History and the Bible.”  Jessica Lahey, the writer of the article, is a middle-school teacher.  She realized that for her students to really understand, and hence, enjoy Dickens’ classic The Tale of Two Cities, they would need to be ‘culturally literate’ in the terms of French 18th century history and the New Testament.  To provide this cultural background, Lahey now begins each of her classes with important terms and ideas that will clarify the necessary material for that day.

Lahey does this for her 8th graders, but, this is not something that should be exclusive to age or grade level. Such introduction to ‘cultural literacy’ is a constant of thorough education. Without it, the student suffers. However, it often must be handled with kid gloves.  The introduction of ‘cultural literacy’ should never be done in a spirit of elite superiority. Let me give one personal anecdote to prove my point. I  particularly remember a graduate school instructor of mine who often portrayed the students’ lack of cultural literacy as an incredible failureJacques-Louis_David_004_Thermopylae on their parts.  One example: In his 19th century German history course, this grad professor asked me and the rest of the students about a Greek history reference we stumbled upon in a work by Nietzsche (I think). No one in the class recognized the reference. Our professor was visibly dismayed.

He huffed his frustration, mentioning that the writer was obviously referring to ‘Thermopylae” and the 300 Spartans who died there facing a vastly greater Persian force. (This classroom incident took place several years before the hit film 300 was released.)  I and my classmates  felt inadequate. According to him, we SHOULD have known about Thermopylae, and the fact that we did not illustrated an unforgivable ignorance.  Imagine how my classmates and I responded to questions from that point on.  There was always a concern of looking ‘dumb’, and facing a dismissive smirk from ‘the expert.’

I realize now that incidents like this happen on an everyday basis in a college classroom. Of course, this does not mean every professor reacts to a lack of cultural literacy in the way my professor did.  But, if we assume all our students understand a term or idea that we are familiar with, we have taken a step on that slippery slope.  Of course, some in the class do have the recognition of cultural ideas and terms from day one.  Those students will most likely be the ‘hand-raisers’.  They will ask the questions, and become invested in the class.  This is wonderful.  But what if most of the class is instantly alienated by an assumption of cultural literacy? This silent majority may lose hope, and/or interest.  Many will feel the way I felt about not recognizing the word ‘Thermopylae’.  Can they overcome this feeling? Will they take it in stride?  This is the question, and it will mean failure or success for many.

I don’t know about you, but I want all my students to be successful.