Learning (and Teaching) in Good Faith
Noah Kahan

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Learning (and Teaching) in Good Faith
Blind Truth
One thing I’ve enjoyed about this text so far, is the confidence in which Augustine writes so matter-of-factly about these indoctrinated beliefs, and how they contribute to the larger task of being able to read, teach, discuss, and defend what we come to learn as truth. As someone who doesn’t know the scripture, I feel as if my interpretations aren’t as well informed as those who have encountered the primary text to which he alludes. However, we are able to identify how certain virtues and principles (and their respective verses) are invaluable to the understanding of the injustice at large, and that is Truth. On Christian Doctrine is tasked with defending Christianity as getting closer to this Truth (as Truth is inconceivable without God).
On the topic of deception, Augustine writes, “For we walk by faith and not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7) and faith will stagger if the authority of the Divine Scriptures wavers. Indeed, if faith staggers, charity itself languishes. And if anyone should fall from faith, it follows that he falls also from charity, for a man cannot love that which he does not believe to exist” (31). According to the text, the authoritative Divine Scriptures demand an unyielding commitment to the word, regardless of practices in good faith. Here, staying faithful to the text takes priority than actually putting those words to work.
For this reason, I feel like I’ve always held a somewhat defiant attitude toward any systems of rhetoric that deviate from empirically based evidence. It could be the tinge of disobedience I never quite grew out of, but I, like many, have tended to question certain doctrines either for their rigidity or their mob mentality. When certain disparities between behavioral practice and learned rhetoric arise, I certainly think it calls for investigation. The idea of walking by faith is a scary set-up, as in “it’s a trap!” Regardless of this discontent, it is the charity, or neighborly attitudes, that should not be compromised.
Hybrid Identities
Sitting down to read Borderlines, I was somewhat unsure what to expect in terms of understanding the historicity of religious rhetoric and how this coalesces with our discussion of how rhetoric and philosophy function together. Admittedly, this text was one of the more difficult ones for me to parse through. As someone who isn’t well versed in theology, I anticipated some of the motions to religiosity to be lost on my ignorance. I was pleasantly surprised to be able to tap into a larger discussion on hybrid identities, an idea I’ve been thinking about for other various projects.
I was struck by the idea of heresy as the basis for positioning these two faiths in conversation with (and against) each other, as an axis for disparity among the orthodoxy of the faiths. The subtleties and shades which informed the divide between these institutions is a phenomenon relevant to how we talk about identity politics today. How can we talk about these self-imposed “artificial borders” as they relate to social and political divisions?
The paradox of self identification is that we erect markers of distinction while pursuing the larger goal of breaking down barriers that categorize us by identifiable signifiers. At what point does a border become a barrier in furthering one’s knowledge or experience? One of my research interests includes looking at how intersectional identities inform and promote inclusivity in the classroom, specifically through the implementation of feminist pedagogies. It would be interesting to pursue “hybridity” further as it applies to our conceptualization of identity, by looking at how the theory of blended identities (intersectionality) informs rhetoric, such as that of the feminist pedagogue. In researching this topic further, I would also be interested to look at how feminism appropriates the ideology behind intersectionality, and how the hybridity of both theories is largely open to critique.
“Speaking with”
I was pleased to find in Quintilian’s translated texts, a clear and concise rationale for the endorsement of speaking and writing as the pillars of effective teaching. The importance of these modes of instruction may seem self-evident, but their inclusion in the rhetoric of teaching leaves room for further study. When putting these modes into practice, Quintilian emphasizes the importance of grammar as the basis for articulation, so that we should not neglect its importance in teaching young writers. Teaching developmental writing means working with students who are not yet ready for college-level writing courses. As a new teacher, what this has taught me is that no concept is too elementary, that sometimes it is crucial to just start with the basics and go from there.
Quintilian suggests we (writers and speakers) are products of everything we’ve been taught, either directly or indirectly. When he says, “Nothing is unnecessary to the art of oratory,” (5) this means we can leave nothing out, not one ounce of impression on a growing mind is left to chance (even that of care givers and nurses). The text’s didactic approach to teaching is also relevant to the motives behind this very profession. My parents, both educators, have always emphasized how essential it is to have heart for these kids (or adults) if I want to be a valuable teacher. As Vince pointed out in his post, educators at various levels often subsume this parental role.
Book 1, Chapter 2 boasts, “For the voice of a teacher is not like a meal, which will not suffice for more than a certain number, but like the sun, which diffuses the same portion of light and heat to all” (21). Recently, I found myself at an interview with a prospective employer who asked what my general teaching style was, specifically if I lectured. While I implement group work and web-based resources, lecturing does make up a good portion of my instruction. When I was posed with this question, I was cautious about using the “L” word, since this job was for a younger demographic, early college HS seniors. I might have deflected the question slightly when I proclaimed that I talk WITH my students, as opposed to talking AT them. Basically, my goal as a teacher is to perpetuate a classroom climate that asks for all participants to be in conversation with each other; as a future full-time teacher, I strive to decenter myself as the only authoritative voice in the classroom.
A Guide to Interpretation
The study of religious texts while uncharted territory in my own reading, lends itself to seeing how we interpret other subsequent literary works, an argument brought forth in Handelman’s opening chapters. The basis for textual analysis as informed by a schema or model (in this case, the differing philosophies of Rabbinic and Western thought) is a familiar concept for those of us (probably all) that have studied literary interpretation and theory at the introductory level. In the same way that these religious/philosophical sects handle their respective touchstone texts, our literary and rhetorical analyses are informed by general schools of thought we’ve been trained to identify and deploy. Using the example of literary analysis, given what we have learned about Marxist, Feminist, or Queer theories for example, we are better equipped to unpack these various methodologies in relation to a particular work. Assigning these critical apparatuses and putting them into practice closely aligns with how we are to think about language, signs, and discourse on a wider scope. We have the tools and frameworks necessary to do the heavy lifting of interpretation, but we must leave room for more innovative and even risky methods for interpreting contemporary critical systems.
More specifically looking at the relation between words and sounds and how they function interpretively, like Ashleigh, I was also struck (and tortured) by the topic of semiotics. I don’t know if where I’m going with this correctly aligns with semiotics specifically, but Chapter 1 did get me thinking about how we use words, symbols and spoken sounds in order to relay meaning. The texts points out Aristotle’s contention that written marks and spoken sounds while varied, are all “affections of the soul” (10). This concept made me recall another text, Film Narratology (Verstraten), that I’ve been researching for a longer essay.
In his introduction, Verstraten distinguishes between three types of narrators: filmic, visual, and auditive. Basically, he argues that the identity of these narrative agents function differently than they would in literature, that certain strains of narration are only made possible on the silver screen. He goes on to argue that we can’t simply transplant our methods for analyzing literary narration to film narration, that we need to create new methods for interpreting this volatile medium. What we find by interpreting these contentious modes is that “images and sounds can each tell a different story” (Verstraten 7), an argument I think would align with the battle for philosophizing the text.
Dior Homme FW17
high/low
Elements of Style and The Sublime
aIn trying to procure a semblance of analysis for my shorter and subsequent final paper, I was struck by the topic of sublimity found in the text of Longinus. The elevation of style and its rhetorical effect outlined in this text, ties in nicely with the argument I’m making on fashion as an exemplary model for contemporary rhetoric which, upon further assessment, has become increasingly politicized to exhibit a shifting cultural climate. In order to more closely follow the text, I have outlined a couple passages with the purpose of showcasing how they serve my (largely speculative) argument thus far.
The effect of elevated language upon an audience is not persuasion but transport. At every time and in every way imposing speech, with the spell it throws over us, prevails over that which aims at persuasion and gratification. Our persuasions we can usually control, but the influences of the sublime bring power and irresistible might to bear, and reign supreme over every hearer (Ch. 1).
The driving force behind fashion’s campaign to sell its message to an audience is the ability to tap into one’s emotions. “Evocative” becomes a buzz word for a job well done, since when you hear designers talk about their most current work, a common thread is detailing the emotions, feelings, or past times the particular collection is nodding to. This rhetorical move, I would argue, is where “transport” comes in, as proper fashion has a finesse for commanding the attention of an audience (quite literally on the runway) while implementing the viewer’s subject position as part of the creative narrative. Here of course I have interpreted the text’s references to speech writing to mean the performative nature of fashion, and how that serves as a thread of persuasion. The following clip is a highly stylized, nostalgic trip to watching grandma’s programs in front of the tv. I forget the ad is even about eyeglasses (rather, the advertised product matters less to me than the art direction):
Petra Collins Imagines a Hungarian Dream for Gucci Eyewear
Later on in Chapter 12, the text states, "It [the sublime] is the imitation and emulation of previous great poets and writers. And let this, my dear friend, be an aim to which we steadfastly apply ourselves. For many men are carried away by the spirit of others as if inspired". Fashion (and music) reinforce a type of persuasion on the viewer through emulation and genre-based prescriptions.
Revisiting an earlier topic we’ve openly discussed, the topic of “educated” and “uneducated” rhetoricians, we can also make an example of out of the modern fashion industry. An increasingly common sight (one that has ruffled a few feathers in the fashion world) is that of social media influencers (which requires no formal credentials) and bloggers at the forefront of fashion week media coverage. This practice opposes the element of exclusivity that fashion week once held for those “educated” rhetoricians/influencers
One important detail I might consider in my larger paper is the notion of “influencers” which is a term increasingly thrown around, as a sort of “catch all” term for those who hold clout over social media, but may not have any formal training in their creative niche. What do we make of these new, young, cultural persuaders? Do they constitute a new class of rhetoricians?
Despite the fact that we could make the case for how fashion is artfully rhetorical in today’s cultural consciousness, one thing to consider is how the use of fashion for utility subverts the highly idealized view of clothes and accessories. What distinctions can be made between luxury/utility? Art/politics?
Experimenting with Modes of Rhetoric
If there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I will take any opportunity to talk about two of my greatest passions in life: fashion and music. Two forces that I would argue are inextricably bound and heavily rely on stylistic, rhetorical moves. This week’s posts saw discussions on various topics such as friendship, emotion, marketing, and even fashion. (Thanks Diana and Christina!) The question of fashion choices as rhetorical or utilitarian struck me as something worth investigating. Is fashion always rhetorical? To that end, I think most of us would respond (and have responded) that it goes back to audience.
As a very receptive follower of both these creative (and capitalistic, let’s be real) influences, I value fashion and music as rhetorical devices that make meaning in my own life. Although fashion and music are skewed as capitalistic ventures which heavily rely on marketing, it’s not always about attaining the material end product -- rather I see these two different markets as more importantly inspiring creativity and imagination in the receiver.
Now, creative power is fine and dandy for the kind of rhetorical affect these outlets have on me, but what is really at stake in these two highly competitive industries? Fashion and music are predictably cyclical, as both of these modes have storied pasts. Looks get recycled and rebranded as something new, in the same way we hear the echoes of influential dead musicians in shinier, twenty-something ones. As Dr. Richardson has mentioned before, music is a really good way of talking about rhetoric because it not only points to genre but it also permits us to well, feel things. To be persuaded.
For the rest of the post however I would like to talk about how fashion in particular works rhetorically. Well into fashion month and currently in Milan’s fashion week, I’ve recently been bombarded through social media with various shows which essentially set the scene for the latest trends to come. The last one to catch my eye, not only for its campy flashiness but its political overtones, was by Ashish for his F/W 2017 ready-to-wear line. Look at the fun:
As much as I would like to copy and paste the entire collection into this very post, I will stop myself from doing so. By making political statements emblazoned in sequins, ones like: “Nasty Woman,” “Why be blue when you can be gay!” and my personal favorite, “More Glitter, Less Twitter,” we come at an apex of political beef bubbling out of public interest. Book 2 of Aristotle’s On Rhetoric teaches us in great detail about the emotional conditions necessary for engaging in effective rhetoric with our audience/viewers in order to “arouse emotion” and “gain sympathy” (114). The point I want to demonstrate here is that yes, rhetoric can be found everywhere, even on the runway.
These garish (and impossibly expensive) clothes provide a catharsis for a public embroiled in a tumultuous political climate, one in which we have to “choose” our rhetoric wisely. On that same token, we could also explore the pathos essential to the aforementioned industries and their use of marketing in everyday media. What lack do they feel like poking at today? Cue a discussion of the beauty industry and its problematic practices. Anyway, I hope to continue to explore these themes in illuminating the multiplicity of rhetorical practices.
The Practical Art of Persuasion
As someone who is still trying to parse through what exactly these pillars of rhetoric are trying to say (looking at you Plato), Aristotle’s On Rhetoric was a refreshing read, a sentiment shared by other posts this week. In contrast to the sometimes dizzying dialogue of Plato’s Rhetoric, this text provides an overview of what we mean (and don’t mean) by this ever-present discipline. This week, we shift from the past dialogues between Socrates and his counterparts to a more straightforward assessment of cataloguing rhetoric’s detailed aims. One can easily navigate from topic to topic in this format, and the editorial excerpts at the beginning of each chapter certainly help in this guided reading.
Aside from the obvious structural difference between these two texts, while reading Book 1, Chapter 2 I started thinking about the practical application of "rhetoric,” more specifically the art of persuasion in our everyday lives. In her post this week, Diana talked about the use of visual rhetoric, specifically Instagram and how this application evokes its own form of persuasion akin to advertising (of one’s life). Speaking of visuals (which I always appreciate), here’s a neatly accessible series of infographics that basically outlines Aristotle’s three types of persuasive speech:
http://blog.ed.ted.com/2017/01/17/rhetoric-101-the-art-of-persuasive-speech/
Going back to Aristotle’s assessment of an effective speaker detailed in Chapter 2, he writes: “[There is persuasion] through character whenever the speech is spoken in such a way as to make the speaker worthy of credence; for we believe fair-minded people to a greater extent and more quickly [than we do others], on all subjects in general” (38). In thinking about the affect of persuasive speech-making, I thought back to an old TEDxTalk I watched on “How to sound smart in your TEDxTalk” by Will Stephen. I had to look up who exactly this guy was (an SNL writer) as his comedic background plays a hand in the effectiveness of his presentation. Here is the five-minute talk:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8S0FDjFBj8o
The speaker compels the audience to form a conclusion on the art of persuasion, with his own self-awareness of the act perhaps the most persuasive ingredient of this performance. It’s interesting to think about the dynamic between speaker and speech here, as Aristotle seems to emphasize the quality of the speaker himself, while in fact I had forgotten who the speaker of this presentation was, despite the fact that his message has stuck with me for quite some time. Despite the speaker himself being unmemorable, his message clearly is, due to the awareness of his audience and what they come to expect out of the formulaic talk.
To the untrained viewer this talk might seem like a cop-out, an overly simplistic lesson in good speech-making, however I think the implications of this talk are far more serious when we consider how effectively this speaker persuades us into believing...wait what was he talking about again? In the words of Edwin Starr, “Absolutely nothing”. The goal of the aforementioned TEDxTalk was how to sound smart on the general stage, but what we glean from this presentation is that one could potentially bs their way through a persuasive argument under the artifice of performance. That a speech’s content is not made any truer by the way in which the speaker delivers it. By learning about the foundations of rhetoric, a tradition that informs almost everything we do in life, we can more diligently identify “good” or sound rhetoric when we encounter it.
Post 3: Oration as a Remedy to a “Crisis of Confidence”
The scenario: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxcvng_CpMQ
In the trailer for Mike Mills’ 20th Century Women set in Santa Barbara 1979, we hear President Jimmy Carter deliver a “Crisis of Confidence” (otherwise known as his “Malaise” speech). Here is an abridged version heard in the trailer:
“We are at a turning point in our history. As you know, there is a growing disrespect for government … It is a crisis of confidence … We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation . . .We always believed that we were part of a great movement of humanity itself, involved in the search for freedom … We’ve always had a faith that the days of our children would be better than our own … But we’ve discovered that owning things and consuming things does not satisfy our longing for meaning”.
President Jimmy Carter July 15, 1979
The speech, played over a montage of the movie’s sunny disposition, cuts presumably to a group of friends watching this event on tv. As a result of this impactful speech, a couple men in the small living room audience proclaim, “Wow, he is so screwed” and “It’s over for him,” while the clearly moved Dorothea (Annette Benning) announces “I thought that was beautiful”. Cut to “The Big Country” (Talking Heads).
Now, I won’t go into too much detail on the intricacies of Carter’s speech and its baring on 1979 America, as we could be here all night. Quite frankly, I don’t have the history chops to do so either. However, I would like to draw a connection between this fictionalized speech encounter and what Gorgias tells us on the makings of an effective orator.
We can consider the experience from which Carter bolsters the legitimacy of his public service when he says, “I invited to Camp David people from almost every segment of our society – business and labor, teachers and preachers, governors, mayors, and private citizens. And then I left Camp David to listen to other Americans, men and women like you”. This sentiment would closely align with Socrates and Callicles’ agreement on what makes a “skilled and great orator” as one who “applies to people’s souls whatever speeches he makes” and “will always give his attention to how justice may come to exist in the souls of his fellow citizens and injustice be gotten rid of … “(Plato 142). There seems to be a necessary element of tenderness in order to harness a trust from the orator’s audience in both scenarios.
Can the speaker, in this case the President of the United States, rally enough emotion from his general audience in order to enact a positive change? It’s interesting that here the orator relies on his very audience (everyday Americans) to aid his dilemma of the American people in a weirdly cyclical move. He utilizes the collective voice of the everyman in order to fix the everyman’s problems. Therefore, I the everyman should trust him! In the case of Carter’s speech, delivered at the height of an energy crisis, his rhetorical address was met with positive approval.
The funniest moment of the trailer for me is when Annette Bening’s character genuinely feels touched by the orator’s words, as if they’re being spoken directly to her through this televised medium. Does the disapproval of the speech in this intimate setting outweigh the effect it has on Bening’s character? I would argue that because it has touched at the very minimum, an individual “soul”, the speech and its speaker has effectively done its job.
You can read/watch the full speech at the links below:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/primary-resources/carter-crisis/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kakFDUeoJKM
Posts 1 & 2: Justice, Virtue, and Accountability -
Hello class, my apologies for being so late to the blog post game. Alas, I wanted to combine my lingering thoughts from our first set of readings and its relation to Protagoras by continuing the thread of learned virtuosity and moral excellence.
In many of our discussion posts we return to the dichotomous, most easily recognizable relationship in rhetoric thus far by distinguishing those who do the learning (students) and those who impart the learning (teachers). Some questions we can think about over the semester include: A) How does said relationship evolve?, and B) How might we take this didactic approach to rhetoric and apply it to contemporary artifacts outside of education? I hope to address the latter question upon further reading.
For now, we can look at the unresolved issue of learned virtuosity. Protagoras and Socrates discuss how the aspects of virtue function differently from each other, so that virtue is not composed of entirely equal parts. One question they raise is can we learn certain values just as piety and justice (both facets of virtue), or do these practices require an individual to polish their own moral compass over time? Also brought up is: Do we need all of these qualities to be considered an entirely virtuous person? What I think Protagoras means here is that virtue is made difficult to measure whenever virtue as a whole is compromised by the strength of its parts. Some of us might be fully committed to the “just” side of the justice system, yet fail to devote ourselves to a life of piety. Do we then falter in our pledge to virtuosity?
Protagoras states, “For it is our collective advantage that we each possess justice and virtue, and so we all gladly tell and teach each other what is just and lawful” (53). And so rests our accountability of one another (and all of society) within our own communicative spaces. There are instances where we may have to police the language and rhetoric of our peers in order to engage in a civil and just discourse. If “everything is knowledge” (81) thus everything is eligible for review before it can be taught. As teachers, our own questions/problems we fight with daily now become the burden of our students; as educators, it is up to us to show students how to answer these questions, regardless of the problem’s content.
Another highlight from the text: “Socrates, you said earlier that virtue cannot be taught, but now you are arguing the very opposite and have attempted to show that everything is knowledge—justice, temperance, courage—in which case, virtue would appear to be eminently teachable” (81). Based on some of the blog posts thus far, it seems a couple of us are concerned with how the readings prove useful to how we think about pedagogy in a practical sense. Namely, what are the implications of a commodified learning experience, and should we fight to keep composition as a specialized area of focus. My position on how to address these aforementioned issues remains open ended, similar to the text’s dialectic exchange.
Final MAPO Mission Statement, Twenty Year Projected Timeline, & Print Ad Series
Course Post 11. "Accelerationist Aesthetics” & What to do With Beauty
librarianbyday.tumblr.com
“Beauty in itself is inefficacious. But this also means that beauty is in and of itself utopian.” - Steven Shaviro
The second essay on “Aesthetics” in No Speed Limit got me thinking about the issue of beauty and accessibility (a line of inquiry also sparked by the above quote). My final project is still kind of up in the air in terms of the message that I want to deliver -- do I want to buy into the MAPO mask and try to sell the idea of it as a speculative artifact, or should I focus on how a product like this might ultimately fail?
Right now the MAPO mask will cost you around $200 dollars.
Shaviro defines Accelerationism as a “speculative movement that seeks to extrapolate the entire globalized neoliberal capitalist order” (9). What we can gather is that trying to do away with capitalism is futile, but rather we should look at ways to reconfigure or extend the possibilities of such an order. I turn to the future of the MAPO beauty mask and how this would fit into the larger market, as a source of competition. The MAPO mask will act as a jumping off point, but something bigger and better is bound to come along. This idea also recalls some of the earlier discussions we had about “completing the set” and how this is entirely impossible. I want to further explore the potentiality of MAPO as something more than an expensive beauty product that most people can’t afford (as of right now).
How do Aesthetics operate in the future? Much of the criticism around world-building we’ve discussed in class surrounds the hollowness beyond what’s there for looks or “cool factor”. Shaviro writes, “Aesthetics is never essential, but this is what allows it to be irreducible to the essential” (26). Maybe aestheticism in the future should be exploited because it’s there just for fun? I mean we could all live without the MAPO mask but is that what makes it so special? Is the MAPO’s only job to make us beautiful?
On the issue of necessity, I wonder about the portion of people who won’t benefit from the MAPO, or who will be left out of this speculative future. I want to keep my audience in mind when trying to build on the idea of MAPO. If “beauty presupposes a liberation from need” (26) than is the MAPO really all that progressive? Does privileged beauty still have a space in our future discourse?
Hitachi Pavilion at Osaka Expo'70
Photographer Adrienne Salinger’s series of teenage bedrooms from the 90s. (See more)
Course Post 10. Faulty Histories Make Even Weaker Futures
“It’s a call for a steampunk that explores all the conditions of its history: of the mill, and of the workhouse. It’s the same impulse that, when a friend throws a 1920s party, makes me want to turn up as a polio victim”. James Bridle, Starpunk
Woodstock, 1969.
1971 Coca-Cola “Hilltop” commercial, also used to end the Mad Men series.
So this post takes me back exactly ten years, to a VHI four-part documentary series called The Drug Years. I remember watching this documentary along with others on Woodstock and the 60s/70s more generally, and becoming fascinated (even curious) with drug culture as it was portrayed in it’s heyday. Because of this sparked, albeit shallow, interest in 60s counterculture, I also remember checking out The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test (Tom Wolfe) as a high school sophomore and not knowing what the hell I was reading -- I never finished it.
In retrospect, I was so busy glorifying hippie culture and what I thought the 60s looked like, that I never stopped to consider the ugly side of this era as well -- the civil injustices, racism, sexism, rise in divorce rates, etc. I always think about Mad Men for this conversation, as the show tries to work against the cliches that we’ve come to understand the 60s as representing, by exposing the “realness” of what life was like back then; the show is a way of discussing these issues as they might have been dealt with. What Bridle argues for is a reevaluation of how we talk about these imagined histories, by looking at them as they really were. In turn, this can shape how we come to settle what we think the future will look like, by first authenticating the past and present that will come to inform this vision.
I bring up my own naive insights of the past, because I was convinced after a surface level exposure to what I thought the 60s was about, that I was “born in the wrong era”. Can we take issue with this saying as well? That maybe it’s selfish to think that our own relational privilege to history doesn’t consider the potentially harmful systems that shaped such a time.