November 4, 1998, 12:34 p.m. | academia sucks

Some days I'm convinced I don't belong in academia. (Most days.) That is, um, let's face it: academia is a series of market places and some of the goods being produced (certain books, certain articles, certain methods) have more value than others. In my department what I do --being sometimes transnational, always feminist and pretty fucking queer cultural studies-- isn't exactly top dollar stuff. That is, what I do is seen as fluff, intellectual masturbation, theorizing. (This last accusation is usually accompanied by a shudder.) Because I'm a blasphemous girl, I haven't dedicated my academic career to this amorphous thing everyone keeps bringing up to justify their work and to dismiss mine: "the people." Nope, I have no charts, no graphs, no "useful" suggestions for "community organizing" or "uplifting the masses." (My annoyance is no secret in the department, I say it all the time to professors and other students.) I fist-pound for parody, poststructuralism, dystopian moments, ambivalence, sex, and ghosts. Because it's theory, and worse, feminist and queer theory (with a dash of performance and film), it's "inaccessible" and "unclear." Pointless, is the suggestion. "The people" can't use the stuff, or don't care. (This works only under the assumption that "the people" are all male and heterosexual. Which, I think, is the general assumption or at least the not-so-neutral ideal of "community" some people are working with.) I don't have a problem with "disciplined" work, I think there's a time and a place for it but cultural studies --especially feminist and/or queer-- isn't afforded the same breathing room. That is, other kinds of work are granted more value than mine. It's a little annoying.

Writing, in my department, has to have purpose. A political purpose. You (a general "you") write because you want to better the conditions of "the people." If I can't offer a discernible blueprint for social justice, well, why am I wasting my time writing? Why am I in this department and not, say, film?

Maybe I'm just paranoid. (It's entirely possible.) In any case, Trinh Minh-ha addresses some of these questions in an essay called "Commitment from the Mirror-Writing Box."


Commitment as an ideal is particularly dear to Third World writers. It helps to alleviate the Guilt: that of being privileged (Inequality), of "going over the hill" to join the clan of literates (Assimilation), and of indulging in a "useless" activity while most community members "stoop over the tomato hills, bending under the hot sun" (a perpetuation of the same privilege). In a sense, committed writers are the ones one write both to awaken to the consciousness of their guilt and to give their readers a guilty consciousness.Such a definition naturally places the committed writers on the side of Power. For every discourse that breeds fault and guilt is a discourse of authority and arrogance.

Do the masses become masses by themselves? Or are they the result of a theoretical and practical operation of "massification"?

Nothing could be more normative, more logical, more authoritarian than, for example, the (politically) revolutionary poetry or prose that speaks of revolution in the form of commands or in the well-behaved, steeped-in-convention language of "clarity." Clear expression, often equated with correct expression, has long been the criterion set forth in treatises on rhetoric, whose aim was to order discourse so as to persuade. The language of Taoism and Zen, for example, which is perfectly accessible but rife with paradox does not qualify as "clear" (paradox is "illogical" and "nonsensical" to many Westerners), for its intent lies outside the realm of persuasion.Clarity as a purely rhetorical attribute serves the purpose of a classical feature of language, namely, its instrumentality. Writing is thus reduced to a mere vehicle of thought maybe used to orient toward a goal or to sustain an act, but it does not constitute an act in itself.Do not choose the offbeat at the cost of clarity. Obscurity is an imposition on the reader.


My undergraduate students in women's studies eat this up. (The Trinh Minh-ha piece was assigned to them last week.) They're right there, critically examining this amorphous call for "community" and breaking that shit down in seconds flat. They know there's no given collectivity of "the oppressed," that the experience of oppression doesn't automatically lead to an oppositional consciousness (they know because not all women are feminists), they know that they're in the "first world," way privileged as recipients of a "higher" education in an elite institution even if they're black, mestiza, et cetera, and this has meaning when they talk about "third world" women. They're already careful about their language, thinking hard about the ideological baggage attached and recognizing that language structures social realities.

I think they're awesome and they're definitely the best part of my semester.

But there's a lot of resistance to Trinh Minh-ha's critiques in my department. We'd rather not see ourselves as complicit with Power when we presume to outline the whys and wherefores of "social justice" for "the masses" we invent --condescendingly averaging "the people" out, making assumptions about who they are and what they want-- and when we insist on that loyalty to "the community," even if "the community" doesn't want some of us (me) because we're queer or a little too feminist for our own good. (Not me sold out my people but they me.) When we insist on "clarity" and "accessibility" in the language when we really mean, "This theory is too hard for 'the people' to understand." (Need I point out how bad that is?)

Or, importantly, when we pretend that we're not complicit with academia as a market place. (We are.) And when we suggest that certain kinds of writing are more "useful" than others, we assign them "use value."(Who decides? What counts as "useful"? Do charts about demographic spreads really uplift "the masses"?) And so we ascribe to the cultural logic of capitalist exchange because some kinds of writing with more "use value" get circulated more, are "superior goods" that get traded on the market place for what? Careers? Respect? Book contracts? Job talks? Tenure? (Yes, this is me, cynical.) So that if I invented a "tradition of resistance" (even if this meant imposing a structure on the past, dropping out the complicated stuff) within a "community" (never mind who might have been violently excluded from said "community" or why) and inspired all the children with my work (propaganda) I'd be way more likely to get a job than if I did what, well, I do now. (Although I might get more noteriety, which I like better anyway.) Or at least in the department I'm in. It's entirely possible that my work would have more value elsewhere, which I actually believe to be true.

But see, I accept that I'm a graduate student getting my PhD. and I'm happy to tell you that I love theory passionately, all kinds. I have no guilt because I'm lucky to even be here. Refugee girl makes good when and where she can. I accept that I'm a "first world" intellectual (okay, gagging a little on that last part, or maybe giggling) and I'm aware of all the privileges attached. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I accept and cuddle with my many contradictions. Still, I don't know that I have the constitution to be in this space (being academia). It may make me insane and that's bad.

Okay. Out of my system.



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* listening to the fugees and wondering where all the good punk rock has gone....

* paperson is promising a return, yipee!

* why do assholes insist on "konichiwa"-ing me?! die, mother fucker, die!