Sarah A. Riddick's blog

Reflections on Racist Comedy in the Classroom

Sarah A. Riddick — Tue, 09 Jun 2015 21:35:12 +0000

Author:

Sarah A. Riddick

Image Credit:

Post Memes. "One of My Favorite Moments From Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt." Flickr. Flickr, 23 Mar 2015. Web. 17 Apr 2015.

Since I’ve begun teaching, I have frequently described moments in the classroom in terms of trains. A lesson depends upon organic human interaction, and sometimes the best laid plans can produce unexpected results. So, when it comes to lesson-planning, I tend to be an overplanner as a means of minimizing the chances of derailment. That said, asking students to rhetorically analyze a deliberately racist yet humorous text is about as high stakes as this risk of derailment gets.

That said, asking students to rhetorically analyze a deliberately racist yet humorous text is about as high stakes as this risk of derailment gets. Knowing this and knowing that for a number of reasons I believe it is important to ask them to do so, I went about structuring this lesson with caution. First, I selected a timely, accessible, and frankly funny text that is in the midst of making some waves in the media—the new Netflix sitcom produced by Tina Fey called The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. This show seemed to me like an ideal entry point for analyzing and discussing sensitive material because it is a colorful, fast-paced, and somehow thoroughly lighthearted sitcom that directly takes on dark topics that range from kidnapping and PTSD to 21st-century racism in the US.

For this lesson (which we resumed intermittently with different purposes throughout the semester), I had students first read a brief online article that softly critiques the show’s deliberate racism. Next, I had them view a few brief clips that best represented the argument that this author was making. In groups, I then had them identify the main claim in the article that they read, as well as respond to that claim with their own reasoning and evidence.

My purpose in doing this activity was fourfold. First, I wanted the students to practice creating a rhetorical analysis between a primary and secondary source because they were currently in the midst of revising a written, individual analysis of this kind. I also wanted the students to experience how others would go about assessing the same two texts so that they could reflect a bit more critically on changes that they might make in their own writing. Third, this lesson ideally would demonstrate to the students that it is possible to thoughtfully talk about sensitive topics such as racist comedy, and a great way of doing so is through rhetorical analysis. Lastly, I hoped that my students would see that performing such an analysis can be interesting and fun, as evidenced by the combination of a Netflix sitcom and a brief critique from a website that they probably visit on their own time.

Like I said, my students were on-board with all of this. They loved the show, and they gave interesting and thoughtful responses from start to finish. Nevertheless, I found myself combatting an everpresent fear throughout the lesson that at any moment, it would become clear that I had put us onto a train with no brakes, and we’d all soon be hurtling down an unfinished track to a messy, (thankfully) metaphorical demise.

What I have realized upon reflection is what I have known all along: the track is always unfinished. As we who research rhetoric know, invention is a core feature of the discipline. Everyday we are inventing in the sense that we are adapting our responses to different circumstances, needs, and goals. As an instructor, I want to give my students the tools that they need in order to respond well to those circumstances. As my students have shown me, they are certainly capable of doing so.

Yes, asking students to discuss racism is going to be uncomfortable on some level because racism is no light matter, and we should not take it lightly. Yes, I will continue to be on high-alert for the moment in which a class discussion might be getting onto the wrong track. However, that possibility is always present in the classroom. What I’ve seen wonderfully demonstrated through this lesson is that my student-passengers are there because they want to get to the destination, too, and I can trust them to get along with each other as we make our way down the track that we are creating together.

rhetorical analysis

Discussing Stereotypes in the Classroom

Sarah A. Riddick — Thu, 26 Feb 2015 22:38:50 +0000

Author:

Sarah Riddick

Image Credit:

Ookami-Schiffer. "Don't Stereotype Me!" Deviant Art, n.d. Web. 14 Nov 2014. <http://ookami-schiffer.deviantart.com/art/Don-t-Stereotype-Me-321935197>.

One of my primary aims in a rhetoric classroom is to equip students with the skills to thoughtfully respond to the world around them. What that means, as fellow instructors know well, is that sometimes it is appropriate to discuss rhetorical arguments that make the audience uncomfortable—a discomfort that could potentially halt or hinder discussion in the classroom. Moreover, given that every person in a classroom brings with them a distinct set of past experiences, influences, and perspectives, certain arguments and texts can affect some students more personally than others.

As an instructor, I make a conscious effort to establish upfront a classroom ethos that is founded on respect. We respect each other’s viewpoints, as well as those featured in our discussions, and I encourage my students to maintain this respect throughout the semester. Of course, despite the classroom being a “safe space” for reflection and discussion, it can nevertheless be intimidating for a student to vocalize what they notice in a text, especially when they view the text as stating something offensive. One moment in a recent class discussion of mine illustrated this point wonderfully, albeit unexpectedly.

Having defined some key rhetorical topics (induction, causation, correlation, definition, analogy, and difference), I asked my students to assess a variety of texts that feature these strategies. Samples included two-to-three straightforward sentences, an excerpt from an argumentative article about a recently controversial issue, a series of photographs, and a few excerpts from television and film. One excerpt came from the final court scene of Legally Blonde, a well-known film that continues to circulate regularly in popular culture. Specifically, I chose the moment in which Reese Witherspoon’s character Elle Woods realizes that a male witness in the trial could not have been involved with the female accused, despite his testimony that he had been. Elle comes to this conclusion after the witness, Enrique, identifies her shoes by their designer. After watching the one-minute clip, one of my students eagerly began to speak about which of the topics she observed, but she quickly and nervously prefaced her response with a clarification that she herself did not support what she was about to say.

This is precisely why I chose this clip. This moment at the water fountain is, in my opinion, the film’s defining moment. Elle’s eyes widen, and she runs into the courtroom to inform her team about what she is now completely certain: Enrique is gay. Her argument is, approximately: “Enrique knows designers. Gay men know designers. Therefore, Enrique is gay.” According to my students, Elle draws a correlation between Enrique’s sexual orientation and his knowledge of fashion designers based on a stereotype about gay men. Rather than challenge her argument, the accused agrees with her, adding another stereotype to the mix (Enrique listens to Cher). Thus, Elle, who has been struggleing to succeed throughout the entire film until now, takes over the defense and wins the case.

Legally Blonde came out in 2001. Many might say it was a career-defining moment for Witherspoon, and the film was so successful that it has a sequel and a Broadway adaptation. That said, nearly a decade and a half later, my classroom full of young undergraduates watched this one-minute clip and uneasily recognized the rhetorical power of a moment that until now had likely provoked no more than a chuckle. As my students agreed, the basis of Elle’s argument in this scene—an argument that catapults her to victory in the movie—is both flimsy and based on a stereotype.

For me, this was a wonderful teaching moment. Not only did my students recognize a rhetorical topic at-work, but they also demonstrated an understanding of how far-reaching, significant, and even insidious argumentation strategies may be. To put the aforementioned student at ease, I took a moment to commend her on being conscientious enough to distinguish herself from an offensive argument, and I reminded the class as a whole that in our classroom it is okay for us to talk about what we observe in texts without claiming personal responsibility for them. In fact, that is one of the most important reasons for taking this course: to learn how to respond thoughtfully to others while establishing and maintaining one’s own position.