While reading Cathy N. Davidson's introduction to the expanded edition of Revolution and the Word: The Rise of the Novel in America, I am reminded about the benefits of my advanced education (I know I don't seemed advanced but I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night). I am reminded about how wonderful it is to have the opportunity to access the complex and rich history of the United States. I had no idea that "at least one hundred novels were produced in America between 1789 and 1820 (Davidson 3). This further complicates an increasingly complicated view of American history that I relish. I shudder when adults believe the jingoistic stories from elementary school, but not because I am "un-American;" rather, I relish the complicated and often abominable history of the United States. The very fact that I am allowed to access and create some sort of truth that the government doesn't officially endorse is amazing.
At times like this, I think back to my first semester of teaching at TCU; specifically, I think about one student. He was from China and seemed to enjoy talking about the drastic differences between Chinese and American universities. Although he never once disparaged his native country, it always appeared that he enjoyed the pleasures of living in America. During a discussion about paper topics, another student brought up the events surrounding the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989. After the class discussed that example, the student from China raised his hand and asked, "What are you talking about?" Some of my students quickly filled him in and he was stunned. You could see his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what he heard. He said something to the effect of, "I have never heard of such a thing, perhaps you are wrong." At this moment, one of the other students showed him pictures and the Wikipedia page for the event on an iPad. I felt bad for a number of reasons. First, the fact that such an integral part of his nation's history was kept secret from him. Second, the way he found out was unfortunate. It was like being the butt of a joke and finding out about it after everyone had their laugh. How such a revelation must decimate his view of China. I'm sure that if he brought it up upon returning home that either no one would know about it and he would be quickly silenced. Coming to such a realization about your nation can be liberating, but damaging at the same time.
That moment in my classroom helped me to appreciate how fortunate I am to be able to access those unfavorable moments in American history alongside those mythic stories of the Founding Fathers. I enjoy the ability to view multiple perspectives and take comfort that George Washington probably told lies and things weren't all peaches and cream at first (and still aren't). In my understanding of the word, what it means to be American isn't a rigid set of beliefs that transcend time; rather, it's the ability to be flexible and adapt with time and to view your nation's history with a critical gaze so that we might all learn from the good, the bad, and the ugly (I had to say that phrase because I saw Hang 'Em High last week).
Hi Peter, Great blog, and really interesting example from your class about the Chinese student. Fascinating, and sad. There are probably many episodes in America's past that would all of us blush if we know about them, but our ignorance seems to come from a lack of knowledge, and not a governmental veil of secrecy. But then again, who knows? Yet I have always thought that one of the interesting characteristics of our culture is the critical attitude we take towards our government and politicians. Good post. dw
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