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Copyright © Louis Schmier and Atwood Publishing.
Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2002 12:49:03 -0400
Random Thought: Class Rage
I am going to play pop-psychiatrist. I often wonder why people
lose it on the highway. After talking once again with a colleague
yesterday, I think I may have an idea. My colleague practices what I am
going to call "class rage." Maybe in broader terms I should call it
"campus rage." She doesn't think she is very effective and powerful in
"the system." She thinks the system is too large and complicated for her
to influence. She doesn't think she can make any difference. She thinks
it is extraordinarily impersonal. She doesn't feel the system trusts,
values, or respects her. And, she reciprocates the feelings with
disbelief, deep suspicion, lack of faith, even a sense of forelorn
hopelessness. She feels the system is running roughshod over her. She
sees herself, maybe victimizes herself, as an unappreciated, tired,
overworked victim. She thinks of herself as a voiceless and invisible and
lifeless "unit" in the system. She let's every little setback in and
outside the classroom get to her and drag her down. Her attitude is one
of frustration and resignation. She's calm on the surface, but beneath she
quietly stews and seethes. She is confident on the surface, but I get the
feeling that is only a mask. She takes stands safely sitting down and out
of sight and earshot. She is void of sincere bubbling enthusiasm,
excitement, and energy. She feigns enjoyment. She doesn't have fun. Her
eyes don't sparkle. Her steps don't dance. It's rare to see her smile.
She goes through many a motion. She does just what she feels she has to
do. She sees no reason to go beyond the proverbial call of duty. Her
eyes are on retiring and "getting out of here." She goes into the
classroom with a "let's get it over and done" feeling very much like many
students. Every now and then, she throws a "how can you..." or a "don't
you know..." at me. She buries herself in her research, in what she
calls a "commitment to the discipline," to find solace and meaning. She
thinks the world of academia is unfair. Her quiet anger is a powerful
messenger of her sense of powerlessness that pushes aside all others and
has a voice so loud and a light so bright it drowns out and blinds all
others. And, in word and deed, she silently--and sometimes not so
silently--bangs on the steering wheel, blowing her horn at the students to
let off steam. In various ways, to various degrees, she is taking her
frustration and anger out on the students. Her attitudes and actions
toward the students are symbolic curses she is actually hurling at
colleagues and administrators--and maybe herself. It's the students she is
wildly honking at, cutting off, and running off the road. They are the
only ones she feels she has control over and give her a sense of control.
In the process, she is doing to them what she condemns the system for
doing to her.
She dosn't admit to any of this. It's sad. It's painful to hear
and watch her. It is something that is difficult to contend with. She is
so talented. She is so caring. She has so much to offer. She can make
so much of a positive difference in the lives of others. Don't judge her.
There's a little bit, and sometimes more than a little bit, of her in each
of us.
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