I laughed. I could only laugh.
I explained to the student why that was funny.
"There are lots of faculty even in this corridor who think I am a far-right nutcase."
The student's quizzical look said it all. Students who know me know all too well that I am anything but a far-right guy. Nutcase, yes; but then aren't we all!
"I am not a member of the faculty union. So, to them, I immediately become a right-wing conservative."
It was class time and the student left.
I continued with my thoughts on my "right-wing" life-in-exile enveloped by a "hallway culture" of unionism. Among the fanatical believers, I am an apostate; I should be happy that I have not been burned at the stake. No cup of hemlock, yet ;)
I was reminded of the old GK Chesterton quote:
The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of the Conservatives is to prevent the mistakes from being corrected.Which, therefore, leaves people like me wondering how to dodge the mistakes that the left-wingers make, and how to point out to the right-wingers that they, too, are a part of the problem.
I suppose the left and right wings continue to have their good times, while I get my angst out through this blog!
But, I know that I am one heck of a radical. A subversive element. And I thank Azhar Nafisi for validating it for me:
SOME ASSUME that the only way academics can engage the politics of the day is by coming out of their ivory tower and protesting in front of the White House. But in conveying knowledge, the academy has a far more important and subversive way of dealing with political issues. Knowledge provides us with a way to perceive the world. Imaginative knowledge provides us with a way to see ourselves in the world, to relate to the world, and thereby, to act in the world. The way we perceive ourselves is reflected in the way we interact, the way we take our positions, and the way we interpret politics.I am a radical. Get used to it! ;)
Curiosity, the desire to know what one does not know, is essential to genuine knowledge. Especially in terms of literature, it is a sensual longing to know through experiencing others—not only the others in the world, but also the others within oneself. That is why, in almost every talk I give, I repeat what Vladimir Nabokov used to tell his students: curiosity is insubordination in its purest form. If we manage to teach our students to be curious—not to take up our political positions, but just to be curious—we will have managed to do a great deal.