Partially Impartial
My struggle these days as an instructor (apart from the usual effort to assign and grade papers) revolves around my belief that the classroom ought to be a place where ideas can be exchanged freely and in which all perspectives are valuable in the search for truth, and the contrary feeling that my views—at least about some things—ought to be advocated.
This is especially true when it comes to the matter of Americans’ use and abuse of natural resources, especially petroleum, especially gasoline.
It’s not like I have a particularly evolved or nuanced position on the matter; basically, I believe that most of the world’s social problems can be traced more or less directly to our consumption of fossil fuels and that, individually, and collectively, we all have a responsibility to—insofar as we are able—drive cars a lot less than most adults in America do.
So, while I try to create a climate of understanding and appreciation for all points of view in my classrooms, there’s part of me that just wants to get up on a soapbox and tell students straight out that every time they get behind the wheel of a car—especially when they’re the only person in the car—that they are failing (at least a little bit) in their moral responsibility to the planet, and more importantly, their fellow sentient inhabitants of said planet.
I very much enjoy being a teacher; I love creating experiences where students can come to better formulate and articulate their views, but there’s a growing part of me that wants to be more of an activist.
I like allowing students to come to their own conclusions; there are some areas, though, in which I want them to come to mine.
Ours is a commuter campus; most students (and faculty and staff) drive here; I think I’m doing some good teaching philosophy; my nagging suspicion, though, is that I’d do much better advocating bicycling.
This is especially true when it comes to the matter of Americans’ use and abuse of natural resources, especially petroleum, especially gasoline.
It’s not like I have a particularly evolved or nuanced position on the matter; basically, I believe that most of the world’s social problems can be traced more or less directly to our consumption of fossil fuels and that, individually, and collectively, we all have a responsibility to—insofar as we are able—drive cars a lot less than most adults in America do.
So, while I try to create a climate of understanding and appreciation for all points of view in my classrooms, there’s part of me that just wants to get up on a soapbox and tell students straight out that every time they get behind the wheel of a car—especially when they’re the only person in the car—that they are failing (at least a little bit) in their moral responsibility to the planet, and more importantly, their fellow sentient inhabitants of said planet.
I very much enjoy being a teacher; I love creating experiences where students can come to better formulate and articulate their views, but there’s a growing part of me that wants to be more of an activist.
I like allowing students to come to their own conclusions; there are some areas, though, in which I want them to come to mine.
Ours is a commuter campus; most students (and faculty and staff) drive here; I think I’m doing some good teaching philosophy; my nagging suspicion, though, is that I’d do much better advocating bicycling.
posted by Professor Dave at 3:01 PM
1 Comments:
But is it really fossil fuel consumption that is the root of all evil on the planet?
While you are a paragon of reducing dependence on it in your life, I think that the real problem on the planet is too many people, or at least a disproportionate distribution of them and their consumptive habits.
Why not have the debate with the students about population control, global economics, etc.?
And then recommend sterilization to anyone who gets less than a C- in the course.
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