David Eng’s piece can be summed up in one word: prophetic. The dangers he expressed in his discussion of the political ramifications of how we mourned post 9-11 has come to pass through Trump’s election and time in office. He writes, “…in all the noise, the language of mourning is no less impoverished for it has become the language of an unyielding nationalism, one that brooks no internal dissent” (89). This lack of dissent is reflected in conservative, and Republican, politics. There are numerous instances that can be used to highlight this so I won’t go into them as they will detract from my response to Eng’s writing. However, to stay connected to Eng’s ideas, I think the rise of the Trump’s Republicans and Trumpism (I loathe this term) are symptomatic of poor uneducated White people (mostly men) mourning the loss of the political and social dominance they’ve experienced since this country’s conception.

Of course, I don’t mean that these White people have actual measurable and tangible control as individuals- they certainly did and do not. I mean that they have been able to put rich lawmakers into place who they thought would serve their best interests. They empowered people who would ensure that the systems of reality which perpetuated feelings of Whiteness as superior to all else would continue to have dominant footing in American culture and American life. I also do not mean to imply that all people who are white are perpetuators of Whiteness. Indeed, Whiteness can and does include people who are not white. Without my continuing down a rabbit hole of my own musings and philosophies on Whiteness, I think David Eng’s piece provides a fair summary of what I am trying to say in regards the hegemony of Whiteness and its relation to American identity:

“The rhetoric of the loss of ‘fathers and mothers,’ ‘sons and daughters,’ and ‘brothers and sisters’ attempts to trace a smooth alignment between nation-state and the nuclear family, the symbolics of blood relations and nationalist domesticity. This narrative of white heteronormativity leaves no public space, no public speech, for those liminal groups- gays and lesbians and undocumented migrant workers, for instance- who perished in the tragedies but whose degraded social status, hard to affirm in life, become impossible to acknowledge in death” (90).

One point which I could quite understand or grapple with is his argument on silence. For example, Eng writes “In this externalized mania of nationalism, the value of silence goes unheard, for silence exists in that moment before loss gains its symbolic meaning and tragedy is exploited for a politics of mourning” (92). I do not understand what value this silence has. The best I can come up with is that the silence is when we are all one people with a common history. The silence is when we are truly kin and countrymen. How did others receive this concept of silence?

My feelings about this reading were kind of all over the place. With that said, I am going to compartmentalize my various responses to the reading. I’ll start with what I thought was positive, then a couple of questions I had, and then the areas I thought were most useful.

First, Helen Sword’s Writer’s Diet was already included in my syllabus for undergraduate courses during the revision part of the semester in the composition courses I teach. I’ve been using the diet as a pedagogical tool for about 4 years. Students respond very well to this exercise and I encourage everyone to use it in their classrooms and for their own writing. It was exciting for me to be able to read more from someone whose tools I’ve been using for so long.

The way Sword structured the book is very effective. I find narrative to be the most convincing way to inspire people to take action and the amount of experience from real people she included was certainly inspiring. Ending each section with tips was also useful as it summarized the chapter and provided guidance to the reader on how to take action. In particular, I appreciated that she emphasized how important reading is to the writing process.

To highlight a chapter, The Other Tongue was particularly intriguing to me. If anyone has ever taken a linguistics course on the structure of prescriptive grammar then they likely have experienced learning academic English almost as a foreign language. (Maybe it was just me?- twice). Native speakers take grammar for granted and so when it comes time to apply the rules of spoken grammar to written grammar many native speakers struggle because the two are not the same. When it comes to Standardized American English (SAE), non-native speakers of English who have mastered English grammar in a structured environment can often produce very well-written pieces of writing because they understand the grammar in a way that native speakers often do not. By contrast, a native speaker (myself included) who will often say “it just sounds right” when it comes to grammar usage and figuring out how to properly structure sentences. I often try to help L2 learners of English with their grammar because it also opens me up to learning more about English.

As a quick aside, I contest that SAE is actually akin to a foreign language to even native speakers because the rules are different than spoken English. SAE is an outdated dialect of English one must work towards mastering through practice and structure. Sword points out the necessity of practicing SAE several times in the book and actually says that most writers acknowledge that their writing improves through freeform natural writing rather than a structured environment with a focus on SAE. The propriety of SAE is completely political and arbitrary and should be abandoned as the standard in academia.

As far my negative criticisms, my big one is that I don’t understand who the audience is for this text. As I’ve said, I use Sword’s Writer’s Diet in my undergraduate courses. There is also some utility for myself and academics across the spectrum. However, Sword’s intended audience seems to be people who are well into their careers as academics which leaves me wondering, exactly to whom is she writing? The tips were good but at the advanced level felt like a given. Undergraduates and beginning graduate students seem like the audience who would benefit most from the text but she writes to established professional academics who can close their office door to students and just focus on writing.

Secondly, I think there is so much context here that the text makes writing seem like a daunting herculean task. Her text attempts to mitigate those feelings but I feel like there is so much in the book that it’s undercutting the intended message.

My negative criticisms are not meant to imply that I don’t think the work has positive takeaways. I’ve already plugged the Writer’s Diet several times. Her tips are incredibly useful and she sets them up through easily digestible chapters and a narrative approach to educating the reading. Additionally, as has become the tradition, I took the BASE assessment and pasted my results below.

It seems immodest to post results that seem self-congratulatory but here they are. I think the reason why I struggled to identify the utility of this text for advanced academics and, also, the reason for my confidence as a writer is that I have been forced to develop strong writing habits out of necessity during my time as an undergraduate. I have always worked demanding full-time jobs while studying and so had to become an effective writer and learn to adapt many of the tricks and tips that Sword suggests. Perhaps, then, I take for granted a lot of the wisdom in this book. Overall, yes Sword’s book is full of useful tips but, no, I don’t think I was able to fully benefit from her guidance.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
I chose this reading because it is essentially the foundation of my research. Baldwin provides both a scathing criticism of American culture and history as well as a poignant warning of the inevitable chaos if there is no change along. He then gives guidance on how to avoid this chaos. Baldwin discusses several concepts that are key to my research: systems of reality and how American systems are often in conflict with each; approaching American history from an honest point of view without damning the country; the importance of listening to and understanding narratives that challenge our views; the insidious ingrained ideologies that propel white people to be able to justify the atrocities committed against others. Baldwin does all of these things, and more, with beautifully powerful rhetorical mastery. This work is a cornerstone of my own research and pedagogical methodologies. In the workshop, I want students to be able to respond to some of Baldwin’s ideas in small groups with each other and bring their conversations to the larger group. I also want students to connect Baldwin’s work in 1963 to the world today and to the other assigned readings.

Imagery vs. Reality in the Perception of American Exceptionalism by Dana Rus
In this article, Rus challenges the idea of American Exceptionalism by highlighting how the imagery of the exceptional American does not match the reality of American life and history for most people. She underscores this by providing examples that contradict American Exceptionalism and, more importantly, she demonstrates how the image has changed and warped over time and to fit a given political or social agenda. I already use this article in my classes as a way to ignite a conversation between students about their own perceptions and definitions of the American Dream. This generally brings to surface that not everyone understands the American Dream to mean the same thing and we conduct a rhetorical analysis of the importance of these discrepancies in our culture. I plan to do the same during the workshop.

Othering: Towards a Critical Cultural Awareness in the Language Classroom by Sthephanny Moncada Linares
This article discusses the importance of having a critical cultural awareness when teaching in a language classroom. Although Linares is discussing this from the perspective of the foreign language classroom, I believe that the principles she discusses apply to the rhetoric college classroom. This is mainly because I contend that SAE is a foreign version of English as it only exists within the academy. Most important for the purposes of the workshop are Linares’ suggestions of the different ways we can incorporate cultural awareness into the classroom. I plan on using Linares’ suggestions as models for developing the workshop and using the previous two readings as a common reading for all students to participate in the exercises.

First and foremost, I must say that I truly appreciate the honesty of this book. We are told from very young, in general, that college and education two of the keys to success. At least, those of us who did not grow up wealthy were likely told some version of this. As an educator, I often question this belief. Like Katina Rogers, I do not question the importance of higher education and would never disparage the pursuit of knowledge. However, we must be realistic about our prospects and the systems at play in the institutions of higher education. In fact, not understanding how the academy works and the availability of gainful employment within the academy can be detrimental.

The section of the book where Rogers talks about the reliance on adjunct work and how tenuous the securities of adjunct work are reminded me of an adjunct I came into contact with as a Human Resources professional within a particular college. The adjunct I attempted to help was an older woman, in her 70s most likely, and, by her account, very successful in the field of classical music outside of the academy. She had her PhD and because of her success outside of academia she was recruited by the president of the college to come work as a faculty member and master of ceremonies. It was her understanding that for all the years she worked for the college she was a full-time member of the faculty. She had no reason to think otherwise. She received regular paychecks and enjoyed the same benefits as those employed in full-time roles. For 13 years she had the same routine- she would teach two classes per semester and would coordinate and host several of the college’s musical events. Eventually, the college was forced to make some decisions regarding the use of certain job titles and this professor’s workload was reduced to teaching one class and had her duties as master of ceremonies were removed. As a result, she lost her health insurance and her income was drastically reduced. She came to Human Resources to make an inquiry as to why this was happening. I explained to her that she was never a full-time professor. She was an adjunct and held a secondary part-time title- the two titles combined resulted in what felt like full-time work comparable to that of a faculty member. She was shocked and devastated. She came into the world of academia because she loved to teach (Rogers discusses in good detail how the rhetoric of love is used against educators) and because she was told she would be a full-time instructor. For 13 years she never had a problem and never knew she actually held two tenuous part-time titles. When the college was forced to change how it was granting certain titles to the employees she was left with no protections. She was receiving benefits because she consistently taught two courses. Once she was knocked down to one course she was left without insurance and her salary was chopped from 85K annually to about 3K for the semester. Ultimately, she was left virtually jobless with no recourse.

The reason why Rogers’ book reminded me of this scenario is twofold. Firstly, this professor enjoyed her career outside of teaching and was successful. She was able to use her PhD in the arts outside of the role of educator which supports the importance of helping students to search for the opportunities available to them outside of academia. Secondly, the professor did not understand the structures of the academy and so was duped into believing something that was not accurate. Of course, the president of the college had lied to her but she had never taken the time to truly learn and understand what her job title and role was in the college. It is vital for those of us who are interested in working within the realm of academia to understand the structures of the system before we commit to wanting to become a part of it.

Overall, I think that what I appreciated most about this text is the optimism and call to action. It’s very easy to read all of these shortcomings, or to live experiences like what I described above, and feel overwhelmed and disheartened. Rogers acknowledges this implicitly and explicitly and, rather than allow the reader to feel defeated, she attempts to provide hope and guidance. For example, Rogers says the key to addressing the complications found within the study and pursuit of a degree in the field of humanities is to continue engaging in deeply scholarly work while also “taking steps toward repairing, restoring, and reforming problematic structures- something that both students and faculty can do…” She follows this up with actually providing suggestions on how to go about meeting this goal. She does this by focusing on the impact the university has on the communities around it and how we should be training our opinion leaders to go out into those communities to help make them better. The other texts we’ve read have lacked this type of optimism and call to action. The most useful piece of advice I found is that advisors and programs should encourage students to reach beyond the academy for support, ideas, and guidance.

Reading this text left me feeling hopeful and conflicted. Hopeful because it’s been assigned to students at the highest level of a system strangled by austerity. We are the future leaders of thought in CUNY. Conflicted because I find myself in a position to reflect on this reading from several perspectives. Firstly, as a student of CUNY since 2006 who has earned his AA, BA, MA, and eventually his PhD.; secondly, as an administrator within CUNY since 2013 having served in several roles; lastly as an adjunct faculty member having taught at Hunter and Brooklyn Colleges since 2016. I am also a proud dues-paying member of the PSC-CUNY union and pay dues from multiple roles I hold within CUNY. So many parts of this reading forced me to reflect on my experiences. Below are some of my reflections.

“Academically challenged”- The text refers to many of the students CUNY targeted in its attempts to become an open admissions university as academically challenged (pages 70, 117, 122 are some examples). I took offense to this rhetoric. For me, this term implied that students coming into CUNY (the Black and Puerto Ricans especially focused on in the text) were somehow deficient in their ability to succeed. This view and the rhetoric of “academically challenged” perpetuates the very systemic inequalities which CUNY was claiming to attempt to mitigate. If students were “academically challenged” it was not because they were deficient but, rather, it was because the system of education had never considered them as relevant participants whose experiences and culture mattered. If CUNY was going to perpetuate the inequalities saw in K-12 then hadn’t CUNY already failed?

Furthermore, this rhetoric is not unique to the social times of the 1960s and 1970s. Recently, in 2018, a Distinguished Professor at Brooklyn College. Dr. Rohit Parikh, wrote a social media post in which he said, “Hispanics are GOOD people, gentle and nice and not at all criminal… but are they really the population which America needs for the rest of this century when more and more education is required?” (https://nypost.com/2018/10/23/professor-faces-backlash-after-questioning-desirability-of-hispanic-immigrants/). So as recent as 2018, we see that faculty still have the same perceptions that existed at CUNY’s inception.

To briefly add to this anti-Hispanic perception, some CUNY campuses have considered eliminating the foreign language requirement at the 4-year schools for the science majors so that students can focus more on their major-related courses. This would, of course, be detrimental to the same programs which the text identifies students having fought so hard to put in place through their activism in the 1960s and 1970s.

The Business Model of Education- On page 117, the authors discuss Moody’s Business Model of Education. Essentially, higher education institutions had to run more like a business in response to policies of austerity imposed by the states. In CUNY this played out as a centralization of power to a “CUNY Central Office” and, later, the implementation of CUNYFirst. There is no real shame or attempts to hide this- we use what is essentially an Employee ID (EMPLID) as our identifying number within CUNY. Centralizing bureaucratic power to one office and/or collection of people necessitates an inflated number of administrators to run these offices. This is discussed on page 122 when the authors say, “Also, the escalation in the numbers of college administrators, many with outsized salaries relative to those of the instructional workforce, is another type of growing inequality.” This is seen all around CUNY. Most glaringly is that reliance of part time faculty which the text discusses in great detail because there are no funds to hire full-time faculty since there are too many administrators.

One example of the inequality between administrators and faculty (and, by extension, students) has happened in response to financial constraints brought on by the pandemic we’re currently experiencing. The state and city are strapped for cash and so CUNY has to save money to try to close the gap left by what public funding cannot provide. The solution? Terminate the part-time workers of course. John Jay proposed terminating 400 adjuncts while Brooklyn College and other campuses suggested budget cuts across the board by up to 25%. Where would academic programs find budget cuts if not by reducing the number of faculty? (Union plug: this information is shared through the PSC-CUNY so if you haven’t joined the union you certainly should). The administration didn’t consider cutting themselves and why would they? Here is the inherent problem with the business model. A business model is run by administrators who will, first and foremost, act in their own interests. So you have college presidents making upwards from 300K annually, not including any perks, but instead the colleges decide to cut the instructors who are teaching the majority of students while making roughly 5K per semester. That’s 10K annually. For further information, you could visit https://www.seethroughny.net/payrolls to view all CUNY administrator and faculty salaries at the senior and professional colleges. As NYS employees, salaries are public knowledge.

One other side effect that the text discusses that I found intriguing was the push for students to maximize their course loads to graduate quickly. These pushes are made by administrators with little regard to the academic success of the students. If CUNY is serving a largely minority and/or impoverished community (the “academically challenged”) then pushing students to maximize their course load is an incredible disservice. For example, Brooklyn College has a program which encourages students to take 15 credits per semester and/or summer courses to make sure they can graduate in 4 years. Additionally, Brooklyn College has a grading scale that is much less demanding than other CUNY senior schools and certainly than private schools (Brooklyn College offers the grade of C-, 63-66 points, as the lowest passing grade while Hunter College’s lowest passing grade is a C, 70 points). There is an implication here that Brooklyn College does not think their students can produce the same academic work as even their peers at other CUNY senior colleges and has chosen to just push the students out while reducing standards.

There is much more that I can say but instead I will end with a series of questions that the text raised for me since this is meant to be a short blog response. Is open admissions good for senior colleges?; Is it wrong to reward students based on merit?; Are we addressing the problem from the wrong perspective? Maybe we can focus on reshaping education to value the experiences and cultures are the diverse student body of CUNY rather than lower standards so that students can meet the demands of a system instituted by heterosexual, white, male, elites.; How should CUNY generate money if not through tuition?