In their very first letters that my students wrote to me, I noticed a surprising divide between experiences of political discourse in previous English classrooms. Some expressed discomfort in the inclusion of real time political events while discussing literature, and others claimed that that very inclusion is what served to make their discussions immediate and important. I took note of this, and watched both sentiments take independent forms in the literacy narrative project that followed. For the apolitical students, which I find is itself a form of political leaning, the narratives seemed to outwardly avoid a specific positioning in time or place; the narrations were internal, and literacy sponsors were alluded towards with a kind of hesitance. For example, a camping trip in which a student’s father told fireside stories that later influenced an interest in oral narration. For the “actively political” students, however, narratives were very much rooted in particulars: a sudden diagnosis, named and explained, which resulted in an extended stay at a children’s hospital (also named), on a specific date that was given in relation to a recognizable cultural event. Attention was placed to the exteriority of the narrator’s perspective, even if some of the details seemed unessential to the action.

I notice this sort of trend immediately in classroom discussions. The amount of personal detail offered while putting forward an opinionated stance on the topic of genre, for instance, correlates to those initial reactions towards openly speaking about politics. For students who freely prelude responses with a declaration of a certain identity, the topic of genre becomes intensely personal. They will discuss their own preferences of genre, and then propose how that genre sometimes lends itself to otherwise antithetical genres. Students who try to remain “neutral” usually respond with hierarchical language; how genre conventions are placed and maintained in terms of objective quality. I should note that I never once propositioned students to write about their relationship to politics. It naturally occurred in letters before we ever really got to know each other, and has since never been directly remarked upon.

I find this fascinating, and I admit that I’m basing what is perhaps only an illusion of a trend on a handful of vocal individuals. Nevertheless, I don’t find either worldview coherent or incoherent. Rather, I think their scope and awareness of worldview is largely dictated by a willingness of expression. To be discomforted by politically influenced discourse in the class and therefore shy away from personal positioning in the framework of conversation mostly boils down to a kind of fear. The opposite approach certainly lends itself to richer and more engaging conversations, but I myself hesitate to ever try forcing it out of students.