to know such different things.
a note about knowledge | + links galore, a capsule review of Ripley, & more!
Dear ones,
On Thursday my department participated in a long-standing tradition of competing in trivia against another department. It was History versus Comparative American Studies*; a history student created two rounds of questions, a CAS student the other two. The teams were a mix of a faculty member and students; my team included two CAS majors, a history major (traitor to her department, we joked), and an English major. I was, as I always am when I play trivia**, captivated by people’s capacity to know such different things. This is an obvious thing to say, but the older I get the more fascinated I become by our distinct knowledge pockets. The history major in our group easily recalled dates of global wars and parliamentary decisions. Our English major remembered a 19th century woman who was the namesake of a library she loved. I will humbly admit that I crushed the “Name That Activist” category. I was surprised to learn that certain people I assumed were household names were actually unknown to a number of students and professors throughout the room. I’m guessing, for others in the room, details about the Roman Empire felt like common knowledge.
As an educator, I am used to teaching things that people don’t know in hopes that they will start to know them. But the longer I’m alive, and the longer the internet seems to make people know more things, it feels sometimes like everyone already knows The Things. Or at least the 101 of The Things. I assume that bell hooks, Angela Davis, and Sylvia Rivera are names as recognizable as Taylor Swift, or at least, like, Olivia Rodrigo. But a number of teams at trivia last night didn’t know bell hooks, Angela Davis, or Sylvia Rivera. Just as I didn’t know details about the Roman Empire (I know next to nothing about the Roman Empire; I learned more about the Roman Empire than I ever had before when the Men Think About the Roman Empire meme was hot).
Again, I’m not saying anything profound here. Debates about “disciplinarity”---the way academia separates knowledge into silos by way of departments and fields — have been happening forever. And it’s a very similar conversation to the one people have about our various respective corners of the internet — whether it’s Fox News Facebook vs. MSNBC Facebook or SWERF TikTok vs. StripTok, we’re all learning different heaps of information. (Ditto for what drama feels important—are you telling me not everyone knows about the Bookforum review?!).
Epistemological separation can definitely be a problem — if people only get the Fox News version of the world, for example. But concentrated knowledge spheres can also be as benign as a fan culture, or as necessary as a surgeon focusing intently on the best methods for cuts and sutures. I’m not trying to debate if this is good or bad, I’m just reflecting on where it can land us.
As a writer—and especially as a writer who is also a teacher — I feel stuck sometimes determining how much explaining I need to do. I don’t want to insult or bore my readers with basic or obvious information. But I don’t want to drop someone into the middle of a conversation without context. Academics are known for this, and people in radical politics scenes are too. It’s a game of holding onto words you have no clue about, then three months later having enough context to finally get it. This was my experience with “postructuralism” in classes, and also the First International in radical spaces; I smiled and nodded and laughed when other people laughed, but it took more books and conversations and dot connecting before I could make sense of it all together.***
Of course, different pieces of writing can have different goals, and it’s probably as simple as that, but the frequency of the newsletter has me reflecting on these questions more often. Is my job clarity and information or crafting clever sentences around topics a handful of people won’t grasp? The writer in me would love to focus only on beautiful prose, but the teacher in me is embarrassed at the thought of leaving anyone confused.
I have no conclusions here, just thoughts. I’d love to hear your perspective—as a reader and/or a writer— so feel free to comment below.
I am t-minus three weeks til the end of the semester and the same amount of weeks til my myomectomy (more on that to come). It’s a busy, stressful time, so I’ll take any good energy. (And sending you good energy, too. <3)
Below: links galore, a capsule review of Ripley, a 1999 emo classic, and more!
love & solidarity,
raechel
*I’m cross listed in CAS and Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies.
*I very rarely play trivia, but a memorable bout of it was when I taught a study abroad class in a rural town in England. I went to the local pub with my students, and my trip co-chaperone who happened to be a priest. We were there for a month and played trivia usually more than once a week…..I never got a single question right lol.
***If you don’t feel like you have a handle on poststructuralism or what the First International is, that’s probably okay! This stuff, though important to many of us, is niche and nerdy! But if you’re curious, comment or email and I can explain (with context :)).
Reading.
Peter wrote a beautiful reflection on three anarchists who died in Ukraine, and their connection to our anarchist social center. Yesterday was the anniversary of their death.
Inside the Gaza Solidarity Encampment at Columbia University.
Cydney Hayes writes about the cool, the uncool, and turning towards dinge in a land of vibes.
A moving braided-essay about kink, religious trauma, and astrology.
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