“Individual Americans thought they were the only ones who could not afford to send their kids to college.”
“You fall short and then you wonder, 'what could I do differently next time that gets us a little bit closer?' I love that process.”
Some wager that the end is not inevitable: that universities can reassert their centrality to the American liberal democratic project.
Institutions separate complainers from one another and from their own support networks. But what if we complained as a collective?
A “regional” humanities abandons academia’s tepid globalism, and confronts local oppressions like prisons, schools, housing, and the police.
“At a certain point, it seemed like all my students were depressed… This was depressing.”
The way we talk about racial justice matters. In fact, corporation’s embrace of antiracist slogans can actually advance racism.
“Nostalgia is not what Shakespeare represents for me; I don’t want to make Shakespeare great again. He doesn’t need that, and neither do we.”
Once, Black women employed textile arts both as a mutual aid network, and as a safe space to envision a Southern Black liberated life.
Antiracism challenges us to wholly reimagine what it means to study human and inhuman conditions in their various forms.
Do we want a university built around managers and cops, or around students and their teachers?
Racial-justice movements in higher education offer a template for how to dislodge education’s focus on entrenching prestige.
In the contemporary United States, higher education does more to exaggerate than relieve class and cultural divisions.
Since all data can now be used for immigration enforcement, universities cannot assume that collecting data on their students is safe.
Does leaving the academy mean someone failed? Or does it mean, instead, that their scholarly strengths can now be made useful to the public?
In responding to COVID, how should research libraries use the opportunity to tackle the ongoing crisis of postcoloniality?
Nobody knows what will be useful in the future. And this is why we so often find humanistic activities in the seeds and roots of STEM.
What will our children remember of this time, when their play and freedom are confined—or freed—by the digital?
“Why read and write about literature while the world burns?” Because, in working to end the oppression faced by so many, the humanities can help.
What should schools teach about the Constitution? And should they teach feelings, aspiration, or fact?