Student resistance to learning about race and racism is pervasive and well-documented. Scholars have noted an array of direct and indirect resistance tactics. These range from withdrawal from class discussion or course withdrawal; questioning professorial authority in classrooms; and verbal and physical harassment and assault (Painter 2000; Tatum 2001; Tusmith and Reddy 2002; Lee and Johnson-Bailey 2004). In response, scholars have developed a variety of pedagogical approaches and techniques for confronting student resistance and/or providing the optimal context for teaching on race and other sensitive subjects. These responses to resistance to learning about race and racism include, but are not limited to: “frontloading” (i.e., providing a substantial amount of data establishing the reality of social inequality at the beginning of the course, and telling students ahead of time that they will be engaging in difficult subjects, and to expect discomfort) (Samuels, Fervber, and Herrera 2003); setting ground rules for discussion to ensure respect in the classroom (Allen, Floyd-Thomas, and Gillman 2001); assigning privilege inventories and/or other exercises, such as journaling, that encourage self-examination (Allen, Floyd-Thomas, and Gillman 2001; Sue 2003); and creating opportunities for self-generated knowledge (e.g., assigning interviews on racial topics) (Tatum 2001).
In this essay, I present one pedagogical approach, based on legal learning strategies, to counteract and negotiate student resistance to learning about race and racism. I argue that utilizing legal strategies, such as the Socratic method, that focus on argumentation can dissipate emotional volatility in the classroom, heighten student responsiveness, and shore up professorial authority in the classroom. I identify this approach as a Critical Race Pedagogy (CRP)1
For other examples of approaches to utilizing critical race theory to inform pedagogy, see Lynn (1999) and Jennings and Lynn (2005).
Key Issues and Baseline Strategies
Issues surrounding legitimacy and authority form the main areas of challenges for faculty of color teaching on race and racism. These issues arise as a result of what is being taught and who is teaching. The first area, legitimacy, centers on establishing the necessity for teaching about race and identity in the classroom. There is a continuum of approaches and contexts in which race and racism are discussed in classrooms, from courses that are not formally centered on racism, but discuss it in one or several classes, to courses directly focused on racism (e.g., Race and Racism). Instructors teaching general survey courses or other courses that are not specifically identifiable through the title as dealing with questions of race may have the most difficult time introducing race into the discussion; this is particularly true if race is dealt with throughout the course and not contained to one segment of the class. Even instructors teaching courses that explicitly deal with race, such as the Political Development of American Race Relations, have to confront resistance to dealing with the subject.
Often students will come to courses with different sets of assumptions that undermine the legitimacy of the course's treatment of racism. They may anticipate learning about race in a clinical and detached way or, conversely, experientially or through popular culture, not expecting it to be rigorous academic work. For instance, in one of my courses that focused on Black women as political actors some White female students said that they took the course thinking that they would be able to bond or connect with Black women's experience of sexism. They indicated that they never thought about being confronted with questions of racism and how they might be implicated in oppressing Black women. This perspective signifies an expectation of learning about race in a way that is detached from one's own experience. Kevin Quashie, an assistant professor in African American Studies at Smith College, noted that students arrived at his Introduction to African America Literature course, induced a party-like atmosphere, and invited their friends to sit in on the course (Hamilton 2002, 33). He explained that the course was rigorous and would demand work from students, yet White students nonetheless came to him after the mid-term asking to be allowed to take the course with a pass-fail option (33). These types of assumptions about detachment or lack of rigor are often a consistent challenge to establishing legitimacy in the classroom.
Because of these questions about the legitimacy of studying race and racism in college courses, it is necessary at the start of each course to establish the parameters and basis for the examination of racism. As noted above, front-loading involves explaining to students at the outset that they will have to deal with questions of race and racism and providing information documenting the reality of racism. It is also important to explain to students that dealing with such topics will likely involve discomfort and a range of emotions, and that discomfort in and of itself is not necessarily problematic and can, indeed, be a springboard for intellectual development (Tatum 2001; Samuels, Fervber, and Herrera 2003). In my own courses, I provide a “frame” for thinking about the courses, indicating the relevance of race and pointing out that there is much discussion about racial issues, but that people are not used to talking about it in classroom settings. I explain that the courses provide a rare and excellent opportunity for examining these issues. Since I am a Black feminist and committed to a constitutive model of identity that sees race as produced through and by the boundaries of other social identities, such as class and gender (see, e.g., McClintock 1995), I explain that we will have a multi-dimensional exploration of the subjects we cover in terms of identity. Moreover, I include language in my syllabi that specifically relates that I deal with racism, sexism, and other difficult subjects in my classroom, and advise students to consider whether it would be appropriate to select another course if this would prove problematic for them.
Questions regarding authority are a second area of concern. Students typically experience cognitive dissonance when they have people of color as professors and, consequently, students often question the authority of women and men of color. Cognitive dissonance can be defined as a profound disorientation that occurs when our foundational modes of thinking are directly challenged (Donadey 2002, 96), or our lived experience fails to conform to deeply ingrained beliefs and assumptions. Blacks and other racial minorities in the U.S. occupy a lower social and political status than Whites and are not typically seen as authority figures, especially in the lives of most Whites. Given this fact, most White students, and even students of color, experience cognitive dissonance when they have people of color as professors. Since Blackness in particular has been identified with low intelligence, students question the intellectual capabilities of Black professors and, hence, challenge their authority. These reactions are conscious and unconscious and range from withdrawal to accusations of discrimination to classroom outbursts to physical threats (Pope and Joseph 1997; Tatum 2001). One senior professor I spoke to who is well-respected in her field had an entire class of White students walk out of her general survey course on the first day of class after they arrived and saw that their instructor was Black. As historian Nell Painter (2000) observes, people often have difficulty accepting the idea that Blacks are capable of teaching outside of “Black studies courses” and, conversely, automatically assume that their racial identity qualifies them to teach on racial subjects. I have several personal examples of how students disrespect the authority and capabilities of Black professors. I had one Black female student, for instance, who tried to refer to me as “girlfriend” and others, from a range of racial and ethnic backgrounds, who were taken aback by being expected to acknowledge me as a “professor” or “doctor.”
There are several ways in which professors underscore their professional competence and authority in the classroom. One study conducted by sociologist Roxanna Harlow (2003), for instance, noted the emphasis on “impression management” undertaken by Black professors, an emphasis that is not mirrored in the academic practice of White faculty. In this study Harlow found that Black professors relay their credentials and teaching experience early on in their courses (354). Professors of color also “performed competence and authority by projecting a strict, authoritative demeanor …” (354). Finally, echoing my own experiences mentioned above, students will often express difficulty in acknowledging faculty of color, particularly Black females, as “doctor” or “professor,” and, this is something that Black women faculty have to insist upon (354). Harlow also found that while Black faculty took steps to affirm their authority as professors, White male professors in the study commented that they often do things to try to downplay their authority (352). I, like other faculty of color, document classroom dynamics throughout the semester. It is also important to address harassment, such as rudeness or class outbursts, as inappropriate in classroom settings or by having individual meetings with students, if necessary.
Legal Learning Strategies
There are three basic components to the Critical Race Pedagogy I employ. They include the Socratic teaching method; an emphasis on narrative analysis, including a model for argumentation; and a graduated series of instructional exercises based on logic and argumentation. I have taught a variety of subjects in various teaching capacities and in diverse contexts. I have, for instance, taught high school students in college prep courses, college students taking courses at a medical school in preparation for pursuing a career in medicine, and legal research to first-year law students. I have also taught undergraduate and graduate students in interdisciplinary politics courses at several public universities. Most of my classes have been diverse in their racial and gender makeup; others have been single sex or predominantly Black in their composition. The suggestions I offer in terms of Critical Race Pedagogy can be applied in a variety of contexts, although the nuances of teaching particular courses and at different types of institutions must also be taken into account. Situations will vary given the social location of the professor as well. Still, utilizing a CRP has been critical in terms of enhancing student learning and my own classroom management as a professor. In this section, I discuss each of the three basic components of the CRP I utilize in relation to the issues of legitimacy and authority.
The first aspect of the Critical Race Pedagogy I use is the Socratic method, a longstanding teaching method that is commonly used in law school environments. Inspired by the teaching style of the Greek philosopher Socrates, this mode of academic engagement focuses on asking a series of questions designed to provoke reflection, as well as synthesis and application of knowledge. As Linda Nilson (1998, 71) explains, Socrates believed that people did not gain new knowledge per se, but could be brought to a recognition or discovery of knowledge through questioning. Socrates asked questions based on logic that exposed “an internal contradiction or absurd conclusion” in students' reasoning (72). It is this focus on dialogue that emphasizes inherent incoherencies and illogicality that distinguishes it from other modes of questioning. I do not agree that knowledge is in fact within the individual, but, rather, that everyone has the ability to reason through issues and questions. Using a Socratic approach, along with complementary modes of questioning, challenges students to think critically in practical ways and focuses discussions of racism on intellectual inquiry grounded in syllogism and debate. It is particularly useful for those students who are “empirically” minded, as attention can be drawn to matters of proof, as well as the socially constructed nature of knowledge production. While I will lecture at times in my courses, providing a systematic treatment of a particular topic and then following it up with an opportunity for questions and discussion, most often I rely on the Socratic teaching method. As in law schools, students are “on call,” that is, are responsible for responding to direct questioning.
Students may require some adjustment to this method, but, in time, they embrace the exploration process. It contrasts sharply, of course, with what Paulo Freire (1970) identifies as the “banking system” of education whereby teachers fill their students' minds with concepts and theories that they are to absorb with little room for questioning or reflection. The Socratic method, because it invites and engages students in developing their analytical skills, is a key component of a pedagogy of empowerment. In law schools professors routinely assign case materials that are the focus of class discussions via a Socratic approach of questioning. Students are often typically called on in law school classrooms, a fact which, of course, ensures a high level of preparedness among students.
There are several advantages to using the Socratic teaching method that directly relate to addressing challenges with legitimacy of subject matter and professorial authority. First, it supports the seriousness of the topics of race and racism. Very often, when students are confronted with learning about race and racism, they assume that this process will not be exacting. A Socratic teaching method, particularly since it encourages student preparedness, affirms the necessity for involvement and engagement among students. Second, the Socratic teaching method facilitates critical investigation. It assumes that readings, videos, and other sources and their attendant concepts and arguments are subject to examination. In this connection, I emphasize that students in my classes are exposed to a wide range of ideological perspectives, and should both voice and show respect for those who express opposing viewpoints. Third, this focus on investigation through questioning empowers students to think for themselves and to understand their role in the evaluation and production of knowledge. The Socratic teaching method requires students to not only demonstrate knowledge, comprehension, and application of material, but to engage in analysis, synthesis, and evaluation as well. Analysis, synthesis, and evaluation are important, of course, because they constitute the higher levels of knowledge formation we identify in classifications of educational objectives such as Bloom's Taxonomy. Finally, the Socratic teaching method affirms the authority of faculty (in a way that open discussion, for instance, may not). It does not rest on the role of an academic as the only source of knowledge as in the banking system of education. Instead, it appropriately acknowledges the expert standing of professors as they engage with students in the classroom. This is significant, given the challenges to professorial authority faculty of color often confront. The Socratic teaching method, thus, can be a useful tool in engaging race and racism in the classroom, by communicating the seriousness and legitimacy of the subject and inhibiting challenges to authority.
Of course, some might argue that the Socratic teaching method might be authoritarian or result on “picking on” students or that it might hinder learning through evading a clear articulation of ideas and systems of belief (Kalman 1995; “Professor Lani Guinier” 1997). To be sure, there are law school and other classroom environments in which the Socratic method is used to provoke fear and anxiety in students. As a result of this, some law school professors, for instance, will have “on call” policies where they inform students of the days on which they might be on call and responsible for answering questions. Other professors explain that they will simply go down the roster in inviting students to respond to questions. Also, some critics might argue that law school classrooms are bad models for teaching about race. In many law school classrooms questions of policy, fairness, history, and justice are evacuated from classroom discussions, as such questions are deemed “extra-legal.”
Still, it is possible to craft a Socratic teaching style that engages and intellectually equips students, while avoiding the pitfalls of authoritarianism and a narrow focus on concepts devoid of their larger relevance to politics and society. I explain to students at the start of each semester, for instance, the rationale for using this method. Also, I discuss the basic components in my teaching philosophy with them, both in writing via the syllabus and verbally the first week of class. I highlight two things in particular. First, I emphasize that since everyone, in the words of my friend Jacqueline T. Flowers, “has something to offer that is both necessary and important,” the success of the class requires active participation. Second, I explain that I not only ask questions, but at times follow up some of their questions with questions instead of “direct” responses. I relate that in such cases my aim is to lead them, or guide them through the process, to finding their own answers. I discuss how handling questions in this way assists me in teaching them how to fish (i.e., think) as opposed to simply giving them fish (i.e., answers to be absorbed uncritically). Many students are uncomfortable with this, especially at first. But, students learn to work along with this Socratic method in the learning process.
Also, while I do teach Socratically, I have developed “bank accounts” for participation points that allow students a range of opportunities to receive credit for their contributions. Students begin with zero participation points in their accounts. They are given a specific number of points to attain by the end of the semester (e.g., 15 out of 200). (In my courses, I give a certain number of points for attendance each semester as well, but these are separate from participation). Just as one can go to a financial banking institution and make deposits, one can also make withdrawals. Likewise, students can make deposits and withdrawals into their participation bank accounts. I accept a number of types of contributions as deposits, many of which do not involve directly responding to being called on for questioning or other things that would be deemed “high pressure.” I begin each day with a review, for instance, asking my classes what we covered the last class session. (I call this our “mental warm-up” period.) Students can review their notes and raise their hands, explain the focus of the previous class and outline of issues we discussed, and thereby add points. Also, occasionally I will ask students to develop thought questions based on the readings and to bring them to the following class as an entrance ticket. Those who develop good questions are credited with a deposit. Also, small group work that I assign to the whole class during class time garners deposits for students. Students obtain withdrawals for anything that distracts from class functioning, including, but not limited to, failing to disable cell phones, checking email or receiving messages during class, complete lack of preparation, and disrespecting other classmates or the instructor. Deposits and withdrawals are calibrated based on the nature of a particular action. Arriving more than ten minutes late to class will solicit fewer withdrawal points than disrespecting other students, for instance. Students cannot earn more than a certain number of points per day. If they go over the set amount for the semester (which many often do), they do not acquire credits for those points. If they are in “the red,” then this “overdraft” is subtracted from their total points for the semester. (This has never actually happened, but this is the policy.) Explaining the purpose behind using a Socratic method and developing a just system of participation credit allows students a certain level of confidence in the process, even if having to participate in classes, particularly when racism is a topic, is a new or relatively unfamiliar experience for them.
A second dimension of the CRP I use focuses on discerning and assessing narrative and argumentative structures. Critical Legal Studies and Critical Race Theory scholars have emphasized the political dimensions of narrative structures, particularly in terms of academic legal writing (see, e.g., Delgado 1995). These scholars have problematized the narrative norms of legal argumentation, for instance, highlighting that legal knowledge in its form and content present the law as more objective, rational, and valuable than other types of academic exchange. In response to these deconstructive critiques, scholars such as Derrick Bell (1987), Patricia Williams (1991), and Richard Delgado (1995) have invoked autobiographical and fictional writing styles. These alternative writing styles disrupt legal narratives' claims to objectivity and rationality by highlighting the inherent subjectivity of all knowledge production. In my courses I emphasize the constructed nature of knowledge and work to expose the various ways in which people in general and scholars in particular develop and justify their arguments.
In my classes I have developed what I refer to as a Basic Argumentative Structure for Instruction in Critical thinking (B.A.S.I.C.TM). B.A.S.I.C is a model for argumentation that focuses attention on narrative structure and the subjective dimensions of knowledge. It is a fusion of insights gained from my legal and political science education, forensic training, and practical experience in teaching legal research and writing. I introduce the elements of B.A.S.I.C. training during the first week of class through a practical hypothetical exercise, specifically a love letter. These elements include: a thesis (a statement that can be argued for or against), supporting arguments (statements that prove, though logic, statistics, or other evidence, the thesis proposed), implied arguments (claims indirectly suggested; a.k.a. subtextual arguments), definitions/counter-definitions (the narrative boundaries of debate that determine what is focused on and what is excluded), and counter-arguments (responses to anticipated questions, critiques, or arguments). After reading the love letter together in class and highlighting the first few elements of the B.A.S.I.C. model, each student prepares his or her own letter in response. They get a chance to read some of their letters in a subsequent class, and we use them as an opportunity to discuss the remaining elements of B.A.S.I.C. and amplify its importance. Students enjoy the exercise because they get to be creative. It is a useful pedagogical tool because, in addition to being an excellent icebreaker, it demonstrates that argumentation happens in everyday contexts and, so, gives them a greater level of comfort with the process of argumentation. Also, the letters highlight the range of definitions/counterdefinitions, implied arguments, and other argumentative elements that can be generated from one scenario. Although students do not return to the letter per se, throughout the semester we return to the B.A.S.I.C. elements the letter introduces. In fact, in addition to the key elements listed above, the B.A.S.I.C. program I have developed entails reinforcing this emphasis on argumentation by using these elements as the foundation for assignments (e.g., presentations and written assignments) and class discussion. Students are invited to respond to a range of perspectives on issues, and this centers the discussion on the merits of claims, as opposed to emotional responses regarding race or racism. In class discussions and in every assignment, requiring that students consider and respond to the best opposing arguments is particularly important, as it forces students to consider, and in some cases reformulate, their own scholarly opinions. Emphasizing the narrative structure of arguments and the subjectivity of knowledge production also helps to dissipate the adverse psychological responses, such as anger or withdrawal, which students typically face when learning about difficult subjects such as racism.
A final element of the Critical Race Pedagogy I have developed centers on a series of instructional exercises in logic and argumentation. These exercises include, but are not limited to: informal debates, formal debates, skits, interviews, and mock trials. Forensic activities, such as debates, moot court, and mock trials, have been proven to assist students in developing oral presentation skills, argumentative ability, and critical thinking.
Each of the different types of exercises or assignments emphasizes and/or develops different skill sets. Debates, for instance, assist students with refining research skills and honing the ability to think quickly and to speak extemporaneously. Moot court assignments and mock trials provide students with insight into legal doctrines in a very practical way, and assist them with learning higher-level critical thinking through elements such as cross-examinations and development of oral argument delivery (see, e.g., Collins and Rogoff 1991). Since students are attracted to legal topics, focusing discussions about race on legal topics and/or legally oriented argumentative tasks helps students to move beyond the stress and difficulty inherent in dealing with race and racism in the classroom.
Teachers can readily develop the skills needed in using these instructional exercises in logic and argumentation. Articles published in PS, for instance, detail the use of moot court and other similar exercises (Collins and Rogoff 1991; Guliuzza 1991; Hensley 1993; Baker 1994). Trial materials can be purchased from the American Mock Trial Association, and adapted (with the assistance of local attorneys if necessary) to fit particular course needs. I acquired a mock trial packet for a criminal case, for instance, and made alterations in the affidavits and other documents to add a racial dimension to the case. John R. Vile's Pleasing the Court: A Mock Trial Handbook (2005), geared toward assisting coaches for competitive mock trials, and law school classics, such as Thomas Mauet's Trial Techniques (2007), focused on equipping students for trial practice, are useful resources to assist in incorporating mock trials into courses. The American Mock Trial Association also hosts conferences for new and experienced coaches.
Formal debates are perhaps the easiest of these exercises to incorporate into classes. Works such as William Bennett's Beginning Debate (1990) provide a solid introduction to the theory and practice of debating. Debates can be formal or informal, periodic or done as final projects. To achieve the full benefit, however, debating should be done throughout the semester. In some of my classes, for instance, I randomly assign students topics the second week of the semester (adjusting for forensic experience and comfort with public speaking). Then, I introduce students to debating concepts throughout the semester and hold various debates in preparation for “grand debates” at the semester's end. In addition to teaching basic oral presentation skills, I emphasize the identification of logical fallacies in argumentation. Robert Trapp and William Driscoll's Discovering the World Through Debate (2005) and John Meany and Kate Shuster's On that Point! An Introduction to Parliamentary Debate (2003) are examples of the many wonderful texts available to teach students about logical fallacies in argumentation and how they can be effectively addressed and refuted. For those who would like to use alternatives to debates, moot court, or mock trials, the B.A.S.I.C. elements (thesis, supporting arguments, definitions/counter-definitions, implied arguments, and counter-arguments) can be usefully employed with presentations or skits.2
The B.A.S.I.C. elements provide a sound format for presentations. When I have used it for presentations, I typically ask students to develop a handout that provides all of the different B.A.S.I.C. elements to accompany their presentation that can be used interactively with the class (e.g., by leaving blanks to be filled in and/or providing thought questions) as they conduct their presentation. I couple this with helpful pointers for presenting, from information about attire, maintaining eye contact, and connecting with audiences to beginning with attention getting remarks and learning how to anticipate and respond to questions. Skits are another active learning tool than can be joined with the B.A.S.I.C. elements. In one exercise I asked students to imagine that they were part of a fictional show based on Friends in which they had to explain a key concept for analyzing race, distinguish it from a related concept, and respond to anticipated arguments regarding the concept's efficacy for understanding racial politics. I provided them with the info a few days in advance of the class in which I wanted them to do this exercise, then, on the day of the class, I gave them some class time to work together, and then they performed their five to seven minute skit for the rest of the class. (Other groups in the class were assigned different skits, and they performed them during the same class period, as well.) As is typical with active learning strategies, students asked to do such exercises learn, apply, and analyze knowledge in a way that is fun and engaging and that elicits students' best creative, intellectual energy.
Given the complex nature of pedagogical approaches, it is often difficult to disentangle the effects of specific aspects. Still, there are several indicators that the Critical Race Pedagogy I employ (the Socratic method, a focus on narrative and argumentative structure through B.A.S.I.C. training, and exercises such as mock trials), along with other pedagogical strategies, is effective on a number of fronts. I use several different types of assessment, including, but not limited to, mid-term evaluations, end-of-semester evaluations, and annual peer reviews. The mean average of my end-of-semester evaluations are consistent with those of my department as a whole. This is critically important, as professors of color often receive lower teaching scores overall as means of racial harassment in the classroom. My peer evaluations and mid-term evaluations are strong. Most importantly, students' assignments and classroom interaction reflect a genuine, often transformative, engagement with issues of racism. Students in one of my courses on race, media, and the law, for instance, are able to re-examine popular television programming and movies they view in terms of the racial theories we discuss. In self-reflective essays on their racial identity development and/or their experiences learning about racism, students discuss the ways in which their views about racism have been challenged and/or expanded. One White student noted, for instance, “I have learned that even though I think I am free of racism, I contribute to racism in small ways. [I do this, for example, through] trying overly hard to talk about rap artists with another black woman in order to prove I can connect to her, or even thinking that the black woman sitting in class next to me [is there] because [my university] had to meet a certain quota …” Another student wrote, “The course … has truly helped me to grasp the idea, as [Beverly] Tatum presented, that all Whites are racists. I have heard accounts from my Black peers and read about a multitude of instances and I cannot ignore that fact. White people, me included, are racists.” As noted above, students get exposed to a range of ideological viewpoints in class and are encouraged to think critically for themselves, as opposed to imbibing the professor's or anyone else's perspectives. In this context, these statements are important because they reflect a genuine engagement with the concepts and arguments presented by different scholars who theorize about racism in ways that encourage self-reflection and self-transformation. Students also incorporate new vocabulary and apply new concepts in their discussion of race. To be sure, results are by no means uniform, as students enter courses at different points in their own racial identity development. But, CRP can be a successful strategy for negotiating issues of legitimacy and authority in the classroom in ways that facilitate learning about race and racism.
Conclusion
Resistance is likely to be an enduring feature of classes that focus on teaching about race and racism. The challenges to the legitimacy of course content and to professorial authority, and the psychological distress students typically experience, are difficult to overcome. No one pedagogical solution can fit each professor, course, or student. The CRP I have developed has proven to be a successful means of diminishing and managing student resistance in the classroom. A similar Critical Race Pedagogy can be usefully deployed by other faculty to affirm their authority, direct student learning to focused engagement with critical issues, and deflate student behavior that detracts from a course environment conducive to learning.
Author Bio
Nikol Alexander-Floyd is assistant professor of women's and gender studies at Rutgers University. A lawyer and political scientist, her research and teaching interests center on interdisciplinary approaches to the study of Black politics; the relationship of race, gender, media, and the law; critical race theory; and Black political ideology. Her new book, Gender, Race, and Nationalism in Contemporary Black Politics (Palgrave 2007), examines narratives of Black male endangerment and Black cultural pathology in political discourse and social policy.
