February 15, 2016 - 20:37
"This book contains stories about my own experience, because I believe stories are one way of accessing theory [. . .] I hope that you, as the reader, will pick and choose the parts of this book that are meaningful to you. I want to offer it as a kind of smorgasbord, not a single sustained argument that must be read from beginning to end" (Price 21).
"Leave it at the door" is a common phrase in academic settings, and suggests that should you come to a class with any "issues" going on outside of the group, it is only appropriate to "forget" about them--at least for the duration of your time with others. Only then, educators imply, can you accomplish the matter at hand: learning. Since the fall of my sophomore year at Bryn Mawr, as a student in Identity Matters (a 360 Program course cluster on intersectionality), I've been fortunate enough to study with professors who value personal narratives. I can't remember the last paper I wrote that didn't reference my own life, struggles, or triumphs. It is largely through my own life as a person of multiple and intersecting identities that I have learned to approach the theory of my discipline. In the context of 360's, I understood that the sharing of personal stories was valuable because it allowed us (as a consistent group of students taking three courses and a placement together) to connect and get to know one another and our "complex personhood"--this way, "performing" in the conventional and confining academic way that Price mentions can be more easily rejected, and we can forgive each other for any "mistakes" we may make along the way.
However, I had never thought of the process of story sharing as a matter of accessibility--though thinking it in these terms certainly makes sense. Talking through personal stories does not have to be a "distraction," and it does not mean ignoring theory altogether. On the contrary, hearing, processing, and sharing stories has often allowed me to grasp otherwise totally mysterious theoretical concepts (and I think of myself as someone who can generally follow complex theoretical thought--if with a great deal of effort).
I appreciate that Price integrated this way of thinking into the very structure of her book, and it's a great example of how a "credible" academic "authority" figure can enact the principles of accessibility that she preaches. She speaks to the lack of coherent logic present in stories and their non-linear nature--something that may welcome in more diverse types of minds and ways of thinking and understanding the points she sets forth.
I want to talk about this in class, because I think that the subject becomes more complicated outside of the Humanities--what could be the value in bringing personal experience into a lab, or a math lecture? If the "theory" isn't inherently about the human experience, it would seem that personal stories would be extraneous, mere distractions, as our teachers had us believe throughout elementary education. The first answer that comes to mind, knowing very little about the environments within those classrooms, would be that if ethics must be inherently tied to every STEM field (it's unacceptable to study to become a doctor without understanding the ethics of the medicine you intend to practice) then it is through the sharing of personal narratives that you can best conceptualize what is ethical--Don't all disciplines trace back to the human experience, if we hope to put them to use in the world?