Obviously, this is not one of those cool, up-to-the-minute, hot-off-the-press reviews. Philosophy PhD and I tend to get our movies from the library and we also don't watch TV, so we have very little, if anything, to offer toward opinions on up-to-the-minute films.
"The Invention of Lying" is a film I chose from the Fast Views section of the library - DVDs that are semi-new. I had never heard of the film before, but the premise as described on the back of the box seemed promising. Now that we've seen it (well, admittedly, only about half of it) it has continued to occupy my thoughts as a kind of mind worm, so here we are: my blog's first movie review.
The premise really is rather interesting: a world, very much like ours, but where people do not know how to lie.Then one day, in a moment of desperation because he's about to become homeless, the protagonist develops a sudden capacity (perhaps via evolution? The film hints at this but really doesn't go into depth) to say that he has more money in his bank account than he actually does. He clearly believes it won't work but strangely, it does! The teller believes him and he finds himself able to pay his rent. From there, he goes on to use his new found skill/genetic change to hit on girls and steal loads of money from a casino.
Our protagonist also has a mother who is close to death in a very depressing nursing home. She has a heart attack and, as she lays there dying and afraid to die because she knows there is nothing after death, her son concocts a "lie" telling her how happy and joyful things are when we die, how everyone has a mansion, etc.
Therein lies the crux of the whole film. The doctors and nurses have overheard the son's explanation and believe it; the son's lie makes the news so that people all around the world start wondering at and believing in this alternate life-after-death reality.
This is the part when we turned off the film. I googled the film later and found that Ricky Gervais is an atheist and clearly has an argument he wants to display here, that a happy afterlife can't exist. Apparently (because again, I haven't seen this part of the film and doubtless won't) Gervais' character invents a "Big Man in the Sky" who told him all about this afterlife, which then overtakes peoples' realities and makes them believe in things that don't really exist.
It wasn't actually the life-after-death "lie" that was the major cause of our not finishing the movie. That was just the cherry on top of a number of other fantastical things that happen in the movie. We'd been wondering whether to turn it off prior - so that when we reached the point where it was quite clear that the movie had a bone to pick with "religion" we knew, okay, this really is not a movie we want to continue watching.
The problems, from our points of view as philosopher and theologian, were numerous. First was the way in which truth telling was depicted from the beginning: the characters just feel free to blurt out whatever they are thinking. Telling the truth is more about behaving like my three-year-old, as we got a running commentary on what each character was literally thinking and doing any time they opened their mouths. The female romantic lead talks to the protagonist about the fact that she was masturbating when he rang the doorbell, side-by-side with noting that she things the protagonist is an ugly loser who will not be getting any sex. (Similarly, my three-year-old said yesterday: Mommy, I'm building a fort. Mommy, I'm putting blankets on my fort. Mommy, I'm going potty in my fort.)
Omitting saying anything that might hurt someone else was also a "lie" Apparently having good manners and being polite counts, in this film's world, as lying. To us, that seemed like a really, REALLY constricted view of "telling the truth." Did the film makers really intend for truth tellers to behave like toddlers and preschoolers?
Along with this constricted view was also that truth cannot be involved with fictional stories. At one point in order to save his job, the man writes a science fiction screenplay; everyone takes it as historical truth, because the only "story" that can exist in this rarefied world of no-lying is hi-story. This is a strange idea for a number of reasons. First, history is never as "cut-and-dried" as some want to claim. Betsy Ross did not (gasp) sew the first American flag, and yet telling the story of the "fact" that she did is somehow important to American ethos. Historians argue over the best ways to tell their respective stories. Second, it overlooks that poetry and fiction can tell us something true even if they are not the constrictive literal truth portrayed in the film. It isn't clear to me that a world without lying requires a world without poetry and fiction. One would perhaps know the difference between fiction and non-fiction with a bit more clarity than my students sometimes do.
Since the film seems to be so constricted in its view of truth, it also lacks consistency with its main idea, which was making the point that any idea of The Big Man in the Sky is a lie. The film rather clearly was on the side of Big Man in the Sky = lie = stupid, childish idea, but yet it is the truth tellers do not behave like adults. Is it more adult to lie or more adult to tell the truth? Is it better to be constricted or not? It is possible that some of the people involved in making the film wanted the viewers to consider this quite interesting conundrum. But that conundrum gets overtaken rapidly and completely by the film's point that the Big Man in the Sky is just an invention made up by an average guy, and that no one really needs to believe it.
Finally, from a theologian's point of view, the movie is very childlike in its visions of 1) evolution, 2) human life, and 3) God.
1. In this film evolution seemed to "just happen" to a very weak man in dire straits. That does not tend to be a part of most evolutionary theory, though there is quite a bit of interesting work being done in evolutionary biology about the ways in which one's environment affects the ways a being evolves.
2. Human life together involves relationships with other people. The relationships in this film could not be deep because of the too-constricted view of lying. There could be, for example, no sense of compassion for others, even others on the brink of suicide because compassion is a lie, for the film makers. Everything has to be done by sheer will. Except, apparently, romance - for the protagonist is brought together with the Girl, not out of will but out of a concept of love that one would think would also belong to the category of "lies" in this world view. At the film's beginning, people date in order to mate and have children. So what is the deal with this romantic relationship that seems to be based on something other than genetic desire to have genetic offspring?
3. Finally - The Big Man in the Sky does not belong much to a Judeo-Christian view of the world. It doesn't really belong to the views of most other "religions" insofar as I understand them. Granted, there are points in the Bible where God seems to be nothing other than a large anthropomorphic version of ourselves. There are many other places where God is not - God is far more mysterious than the mind can contain. And that complexity is exactly the point in my tradition: God both wants and seeks relationships with humans (and so seems anthropomorphized in the ways that Job anthropomorphizes) but God is also extraordinarily other, so very much NOT the Big Man in the Sky. When Augustine was wrestling with whether or not to become a Christian in the Confessions, part of his wrestling was due to his then-view that God was a Big Man. He later recognized that view to be untrue precisely because it was so problematic and troublesome, as the film also seems to elude. Augustine (5th century) was not the first to wrestle with his addled views about God; many, many others before and since have also come to see that human constructions of God have some degree of falsity. How we can "know" about God has occupied the minds of people far more brilliant and thoughtful than the film's writers; this degree of complexity about the question would make for quite an interesting and thought-provoking show.
All of which is to say, finally, that the film lacks the kind of depth that its title suggests. The questions raised by the film, including the existence of God, are indeed interesting ones to raise, but needed a more engaging worldview than the one so flatly presented. The film does little more than feed into the simple-mindedness of atheisms as displayed by Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins. For myself, I'd rather be involved in a conversation with an atheism that takes human thinking and living seriously - the atheism of a Karl Marx or a Friederich Nietzsche. So, for giving me the opportunity to think all these things through, I thank the film makers. Imagine what I could do with something of more weighty substance?
Showing posts with label argumentation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label argumentation. Show all posts
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Dear Students,
I understand that you all wanted As in my courses and felt you worked too hard not to get an A. So let me take this opportunity to address your concerns. I have, for simplicity's sake, bolded your concerns first, and then offered my comments in non-bold, except for the last point.
1. This is not an English class. You grade too hard on form.
First of all, I hope your English professors don't take too much offense, for their classes are not solely dependent on form either. Or put another way, what you say and how you say it both matter. If I can't read and understand what you've written, then the content is a loss no matter what the class.
2. Corollary to #1 - After all, I had an A in all my English classes.
Yes, my classes are focused on writing, and after that, on spoken group presentations. In humanities classes, it is not generally helpful for me to give you quantitative tests, especially at the 300 level. But the fact that in my classes, the grading is based on your writing doesn't mean much in relation to your English classes, except for the fact that I am glad you have taken some English classes. This is because I teach 300-level ethics courses. That means the writing will be different and more difficult than in your 100-level English class. (And your 300-level English class will also be more difficult, I presume.) I do apologize in advance, but I did think the purpose in taking the course was that you would learn and grow in new ways.
3. Another Corollary to #1 - You focus too much on our thesis statements rather than on whether we know the religion stuff.
Well, on this point, I hope your Sunday School teachers don't take offense, because I'm quite sure that they didn't intend that their class, taught over 9 months and often only one day a week, was meant to "cover" absolutely everything about the faith we profess in Jesus Christ. Sometimes some of you seem to think that because you took religious education in Catholic high school or because you went to Sunday School, you now know all about religion. And some of you, perhaps many of you, have rejected "religion" or "organized religion" or "hierarchical religion" (feel free to put in another term if you are more comfortable with that...) on the basis of knowing it all.
I can only say that if this class was just a refresher in sixth grade catechetics, they would not have hired a full-time PhD to teach you. They would have found a hapless but loving and generous volunteer (i.e. someone who works for free) who wants to make a difference for the Lord - and that volunteer would know many good things and teach you many good things, but would also not care about whether you have a thesis statement.
I, on the other hand, am worried about your ability to reason in relation to ethical questions big and small. And that means I want to see a clear thesis statement about what you think, and then supporting arguments.
4. I worked really hard.
I am sorry indeed that I cannot grade based on effort. It reminds me distinctly of my college calculus-based physics course, in which I received (thankfully) a C. Others in the class clearly had more aptitude to learn physics principles quickly, and they appeared to need to do almost no studying, and earned As. I, on the other hand, studied physics in all my free time, spent extra time in the lab, checked out additional books from the library in an effort to try to understand, and saw a tutor, all to garner a C. On effort alone, I should have received an A. But the professor was not grading on the basis of how hard I worked but on whether, at the end of it all, I knew enough about electrical currents that I would not burn up my friends and myself. Knowing physics well and rightly matters; though I know that many of you do not think humanities knowledge affects people in the same way, still I grade on the basis that knowing ethics well and rightly matters.
5. Corollary to #3 and #4 - And another thing about this class, you didn't let us share our opinions.
If, by opinion, you mean oral statements made in class that refer to the course readings or lectures or other students' points (even if you didn't quite understand them) AND that enable you and others to make at least a beginning toward reasoned, focused thoughtfulness, in a variety and diversity of forms, relating to important topics like the Big 5 (abortion, homosexuality, war and peace, wages, and euthanasia) as well as to small seemingly insignificant topics like what kind of orange juice to buy and how to relate to your roommates, then I sincerely apologize.
I did arrange on the syllabus a diversity of topics and readings from a broad group of people who are generally thoughtful and provocative, but who do not share the same opinions about everything in the hopes of helping you develop and refine your opinions as defined above. If you thought that the authors we read DID all share the same opinions, you did not read carefully enough. In class, I tend to play to their arguments, in an effort to help you understand the readings. But if you think that their opinions are mine, and therefore you cannot express an "opinion", then you must think I am the most confused, messed up individual, for I cannot be politically liberal a la John Rawls and also take a post-liberal stance a la John Milbank. I cannot support the church's teachings on contraception a la Humanae Vitae and also raise significant (yet faithful) concerns about it, a la Martin Rhonheimer. I cannot reject gender as a concern (a la Andreas Kostenberger) and also think gender is a great concern (a la Sarah Coakley). To say nothing of all the great patristic and medieval thinkers we also read.
However, if by opinion you instead mean random statements of the kind you could make at 2 am in the dorms while speaking with your friends, then, no, I am not sorry. This is a class for which you get academic credit and I am trying to help you think in very particular ways.
6. All of which leads me to want to ask you, "Do you just simply think that because it's a religion (or humanities) course, you ought to be able to get an A?"
Do you think that because the knowledge learned in humanities classes seems more opaque, more "opinion-oriented," and more "fluffy" in popular opinion, that you deserve to receive a mark that is supposed to denote the highest caliber work and thought? Writing a good thesis (or communicating one in an oral presentation), and then supporting it well, is, yes, very difficult work. In other words, thinking is HARD, and I value demonstration of that skill. Good writing, good oral communication both demonstrate good thinking. If the thought is not behind it, the writing won't be as good. I endeavor, therefore, to give those who carry out the task a grade of the highest quality. If you did not earn an A in my class, it is because I did not see a demonstration of those thinking skills.
It is possible I am in error and I have not graded you according to these standards. If you think that is so, please feel free to stop by my office with your paper, and be prepared to show me your thesis statement, your arguments, your careful reasoned analysis of the readings, lectures and class discussions, using the reasoning skills I hope you've learned in my classes and in the classes of your other humanities professors.
Sincerely,
TheologyPhD Mom
[NB: This represents comments I've heard over the years - usually off hand remarks made in the hall, and the like. This does not represent any one class I have ever had, but a conglomerate of concerns I've heard especially in relation to religion courses, but also in humanities courses generally.]
1. This is not an English class. You grade too hard on form.
First of all, I hope your English professors don't take too much offense, for their classes are not solely dependent on form either. Or put another way, what you say and how you say it both matter. If I can't read and understand what you've written, then the content is a loss no matter what the class.
2. Corollary to #1 - After all, I had an A in all my English classes.
Yes, my classes are focused on writing, and after that, on spoken group presentations. In humanities classes, it is not generally helpful for me to give you quantitative tests, especially at the 300 level. But the fact that in my classes, the grading is based on your writing doesn't mean much in relation to your English classes, except for the fact that I am glad you have taken some English classes. This is because I teach 300-level ethics courses. That means the writing will be different and more difficult than in your 100-level English class. (And your 300-level English class will also be more difficult, I presume.) I do apologize in advance, but I did think the purpose in taking the course was that you would learn and grow in new ways.
3. Another Corollary to #1 - You focus too much on our thesis statements rather than on whether we know the religion stuff.
Well, on this point, I hope your Sunday School teachers don't take offense, because I'm quite sure that they didn't intend that their class, taught over 9 months and often only one day a week, was meant to "cover" absolutely everything about the faith we profess in Jesus Christ. Sometimes some of you seem to think that because you took religious education in Catholic high school or because you went to Sunday School, you now know all about religion. And some of you, perhaps many of you, have rejected "religion" or "organized religion" or "hierarchical religion" (feel free to put in another term if you are more comfortable with that...) on the basis of knowing it all.
I can only say that if this class was just a refresher in sixth grade catechetics, they would not have hired a full-time PhD to teach you. They would have found a hapless but loving and generous volunteer (i.e. someone who works for free) who wants to make a difference for the Lord - and that volunteer would know many good things and teach you many good things, but would also not care about whether you have a thesis statement.
I, on the other hand, am worried about your ability to reason in relation to ethical questions big and small. And that means I want to see a clear thesis statement about what you think, and then supporting arguments.
4. I worked really hard.
I am sorry indeed that I cannot grade based on effort. It reminds me distinctly of my college calculus-based physics course, in which I received (thankfully) a C. Others in the class clearly had more aptitude to learn physics principles quickly, and they appeared to need to do almost no studying, and earned As. I, on the other hand, studied physics in all my free time, spent extra time in the lab, checked out additional books from the library in an effort to try to understand, and saw a tutor, all to garner a C. On effort alone, I should have received an A. But the professor was not grading on the basis of how hard I worked but on whether, at the end of it all, I knew enough about electrical currents that I would not burn up my friends and myself. Knowing physics well and rightly matters; though I know that many of you do not think humanities knowledge affects people in the same way, still I grade on the basis that knowing ethics well and rightly matters.
5. Corollary to #3 and #4 - And another thing about this class, you didn't let us share our opinions.
If, by opinion, you mean oral statements made in class that refer to the course readings or lectures or other students' points (even if you didn't quite understand them) AND that enable you and others to make at least a beginning toward reasoned, focused thoughtfulness, in a variety and diversity of forms, relating to important topics like the Big 5 (abortion, homosexuality, war and peace, wages, and euthanasia) as well as to small seemingly insignificant topics like what kind of orange juice to buy and how to relate to your roommates, then I sincerely apologize.
I did arrange on the syllabus a diversity of topics and readings from a broad group of people who are generally thoughtful and provocative, but who do not share the same opinions about everything in the hopes of helping you develop and refine your opinions as defined above. If you thought that the authors we read DID all share the same opinions, you did not read carefully enough. In class, I tend to play to their arguments, in an effort to help you understand the readings. But if you think that their opinions are mine, and therefore you cannot express an "opinion", then you must think I am the most confused, messed up individual, for I cannot be politically liberal a la John Rawls and also take a post-liberal stance a la John Milbank. I cannot support the church's teachings on contraception a la Humanae Vitae and also raise significant (yet faithful) concerns about it, a la Martin Rhonheimer. I cannot reject gender as a concern (a la Andreas Kostenberger) and also think gender is a great concern (a la Sarah Coakley). To say nothing of all the great patristic and medieval thinkers we also read.
However, if by opinion you instead mean random statements of the kind you could make at 2 am in the dorms while speaking with your friends, then, no, I am not sorry. This is a class for which you get academic credit and I am trying to help you think in very particular ways.
6. All of which leads me to want to ask you, "Do you just simply think that because it's a religion (or humanities) course, you ought to be able to get an A?"
Do you think that because the knowledge learned in humanities classes seems more opaque, more "opinion-oriented," and more "fluffy" in popular opinion, that you deserve to receive a mark that is supposed to denote the highest caliber work and thought? Writing a good thesis (or communicating one in an oral presentation), and then supporting it well, is, yes, very difficult work. In other words, thinking is HARD, and I value demonstration of that skill. Good writing, good oral communication both demonstrate good thinking. If the thought is not behind it, the writing won't be as good. I endeavor, therefore, to give those who carry out the task a grade of the highest quality. If you did not earn an A in my class, it is because I did not see a demonstration of those thinking skills.
It is possible I am in error and I have not graded you according to these standards. If you think that is so, please feel free to stop by my office with your paper, and be prepared to show me your thesis statement, your arguments, your careful reasoned analysis of the readings, lectures and class discussions, using the reasoning skills I hope you've learned in my classes and in the classes of your other humanities professors.
Sincerely,
TheologyPhD Mom
[NB: This represents comments I've heard over the years - usually off hand remarks made in the hall, and the like. This does not represent any one class I have ever had, but a conglomerate of concerns I've heard especially in relation to religion courses, but also in humanities courses generally.]
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Babywearing, Offending People, and making Academic Arguments: Or, My Take on the Current Political Speech Drama
A dumb, small little fact about me and babies: I love babywearing. I have slings and wraps in numerous styles, an (organic) Belle Carrier, and the ever-popular Ergo. I suppose admitting this fact puts me in the dreaded "Bobos in Paradise" category since I am clearly spending way more money on these than a person NEEDS to.
However, what I love about baby carriers is that they a) leave me hands-free so I can do the grocery shopping or laundry folding; b) allow me to write essays while "holding" a baby who doesn't want to be put down (VERY important in academic ;-)) and c) prevent unwanted/unlooked-for baby attention from probably well-meaning people who nevertheless alarm me in the ways they spring out of nowhere itching to touch The Baby.
Okay, enough said about the benefits of babycarriers, because what I really want to talk about is another little, dumb "fact": people who wear babycarriers seem to universally try to ignore each other. Seriously. I'll be in the mall wearing my baby and see someone else carrying their baby in a wrap, and inevitably we both turn up our noses. I've experienced this phenomenon in airports, parking lots, and restaurants as well. It's so ubiquitous, I'm thinking it's not just me. I expect non-babywearers to ignore me, for the most part, but the others? Huh. We have each other on ignore, similar to those message boards that feature an "ignore" button so that you can avoid the people whose posts always make you upset/embarrassed/livid.
With other parenting things (like, say, a tantruming three year old) parents are generally supportive and sympathetic: a small nod and a knowing smile to say, "Yup, I've been there before and I'm sorry you're going through all this, sis." But not so with babywearers. It's like we're embarrassed to be babywearers. Babywearing is still something a minority of people do, and it's something that appears in the news occasionally as an unsafe thing to do (see here for the recall information on certain slings and here for how to safely wear babies).
All of that means it feels a bit like you are putting yourself out there. I think babywearers don't acknowledge each other in part out of not wanting to draw attention to each other, as a way of saying, "This is normal and I don't have to make a big deal about it." (So isn't that the thing to do with the tantruming three year old too?)
But I also think it has something to do with fear of arguments. A babywearer is, in a way, starting an argument by wearing a baby, because we're saying, "Here's a different way of doing things - even a better way." But by not acknowledging other babywearers and by generally assuming that most people won't ask you about your sling, because in our society we set a very high premium on letting everyone do their own thing, we don't have to enter into the argument. We, as a society, hate arguments and would prefer to ignore each other than enter into arguments.
It's something I see with my students all the time, in the classroom, in their writing, and even in incredibly provocative lectures given by famous people. Students are reluctant to make arguments, perhaps out of fear of being wrong or of offending someone so they don't say anything at all, whether they agree or disagree with the people who ARE taking a stand.
I find that I always have to give a lecture at the beginning of the semester making my own case that it is better to take a strong stand than to always stand in the background and let others do the thinking for you. Regarding offending people, I always remind them that this is what being polite is about: listening to other peoples' provocative, interesting arguments (not interrupting, not barging through, NOT ignoring). It is also about being willing to be wrong, being willing to forgive others' foibles when necessary, and being willing to change one's mind. We have a thing against arguments, almost seeing them as impolite, in part because our "role models" (I have politicians on both sides of the aisle in mind here) are not really good role models but instead prey on each other and drag each other through the mud, deliberately misinterpreting meanings.
Being willing to be wrong, to forgive and to change one's mind are in quite short supply in our society and I'm convinced it's because we don't argue well and we don't want to engage each other, even when we see people doing things (like babywearing) that may seem a bit strange and odd. We'd rather whisper out of earshot to known friends: "Did you SEE that weird thing that person was doing?" rather than have an honest but scary conversation that might - gasp- turn into an argument. It IS possible to have a civil, eye opening argument. It's one of the things I hope I'm helping my students do better.
However, what I love about baby carriers is that they a) leave me hands-free so I can do the grocery shopping or laundry folding; b) allow me to write essays while "holding" a baby who doesn't want to be put down (VERY important in academic ;-)) and c) prevent unwanted/unlooked-for baby attention from probably well-meaning people who nevertheless alarm me in the ways they spring out of nowhere itching to touch The Baby.
Okay, enough said about the benefits of babycarriers, because what I really want to talk about is another little, dumb "fact": people who wear babycarriers seem to universally try to ignore each other. Seriously. I'll be in the mall wearing my baby and see someone else carrying their baby in a wrap, and inevitably we both turn up our noses. I've experienced this phenomenon in airports, parking lots, and restaurants as well. It's so ubiquitous, I'm thinking it's not just me. I expect non-babywearers to ignore me, for the most part, but the others? Huh. We have each other on ignore, similar to those message boards that feature an "ignore" button so that you can avoid the people whose posts always make you upset/embarrassed/livid.
With other parenting things (like, say, a tantruming three year old) parents are generally supportive and sympathetic: a small nod and a knowing smile to say, "Yup, I've been there before and I'm sorry you're going through all this, sis." But not so with babywearers. It's like we're embarrassed to be babywearers. Babywearing is still something a minority of people do, and it's something that appears in the news occasionally as an unsafe thing to do (see here for the recall information on certain slings and here for how to safely wear babies).
All of that means it feels a bit like you are putting yourself out there. I think babywearers don't acknowledge each other in part out of not wanting to draw attention to each other, as a way of saying, "This is normal and I don't have to make a big deal about it." (So isn't that the thing to do with the tantruming three year old too?)
But I also think it has something to do with fear of arguments. A babywearer is, in a way, starting an argument by wearing a baby, because we're saying, "Here's a different way of doing things - even a better way." But by not acknowledging other babywearers and by generally assuming that most people won't ask you about your sling, because in our society we set a very high premium on letting everyone do their own thing, we don't have to enter into the argument. We, as a society, hate arguments and would prefer to ignore each other than enter into arguments.
It's something I see with my students all the time, in the classroom, in their writing, and even in incredibly provocative lectures given by famous people. Students are reluctant to make arguments, perhaps out of fear of being wrong or of offending someone so they don't say anything at all, whether they agree or disagree with the people who ARE taking a stand.
I find that I always have to give a lecture at the beginning of the semester making my own case that it is better to take a strong stand than to always stand in the background and let others do the thinking for you. Regarding offending people, I always remind them that this is what being polite is about: listening to other peoples' provocative, interesting arguments (not interrupting, not barging through, NOT ignoring). It is also about being willing to be wrong, being willing to forgive others' foibles when necessary, and being willing to change one's mind. We have a thing against arguments, almost seeing them as impolite, in part because our "role models" (I have politicians on both sides of the aisle in mind here) are not really good role models but instead prey on each other and drag each other through the mud, deliberately misinterpreting meanings.
Being willing to be wrong, to forgive and to change one's mind are in quite short supply in our society and I'm convinced it's because we don't argue well and we don't want to engage each other, even when we see people doing things (like babywearing) that may seem a bit strange and odd. We'd rather whisper out of earshot to known friends: "Did you SEE that weird thing that person was doing?" rather than have an honest but scary conversation that might - gasp- turn into an argument. It IS possible to have a civil, eye opening argument. It's one of the things I hope I'm helping my students do better.
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