Adi Burton

The history of the Philosophy of Education Society’s Committee on Gender, Sexuality, and the Status of Women (CGSSW, formerly COSW) offers many interesting pathways into the field of philosophy of education and its related disciplines, from the most specific aspects of scholarship on education and gender to the most expansive debates about what defines philosophy of education in the first place. In this timeline, I hope to offer an incomplete entryway into some of the documents, records, and literature that may establish reference points for future work. Referring to published accounts and unpublished materials that were available to me, and frequently stitched together from different sources, I attempt to plot out the major events in the committee’s history and include references to the extensive work produced by committee members over the last 50 years.

A response to a collection of oral histories for the Philosophy of Education Society (PES) centered on the creation and work of one committee of the organization, the Committee on Gender, Sexuality, and the Status of Women (CGSSW). Oral history is passed down from generation to generation. But in institutions, stories of inequity are often told in whispers. These whispers are lost or interrupted when someone can no longer attend, when a pandemic stops travel, or when a baby’s arrival makes going to the coffee shop impossible. Honouring the history of women in PES may well be the continued work of intentional retrieval and public re-telling of stories that need to be heard again (and again) so that they are not forgotten.

This essay is an extended reflection on the relationship between death and love expressed in a fragment from Song of Songs 8:6: «Strong as death is love». The passage will be analyzed through a Jewish, Orthodox, and Catholic exegesis and literary reflection. In particular, the essay describes the role of a particular form of love (eros) within a particular form of education (education at the end of time). While eros has frequently been ignored or resigned to a purely sexualized role, we will look closely at Augustine’s eulogy of his mother, Monica, in the Confessions, suggesting that perhaps the most visceral expression of eros is to be found in the phenomenology of death. We will also draw on the phenomenological manifestation of death by looking to the rich description of dying provided by Leo Tolstoy in his novella, The Death of Ivan Ilych. Together these investigations of eros and education yield a «curriculum of death», which draws on the re-conceptualist notion of curriculum. Our claim is that this curriculum of death offers a sense of urgency and seriousness found lacking in schools today, where death abounds, but is rarely if ever addressed in a humanistic way. This final methodological emphasis on the humanities elucidates more directly and critically the role of research for a curriculum of death within the dominance of social science in the field of education.

After outlining a common critique in selected texts by Paulo Freire and Benedict XVI, we turn beyond the individual thinkers and into the mystagogy of their common religious traditions, beginning with an extended description of the Jewish ritual of Passover, foundational to a description of the Catholic celebration of the Eucharist to follow, but also definitive in its own right. In describing these two rituals we find a fuller consideration of the constructive responses by Freire and Benedict to the institutional objectification of the human person in the eros of the common meal. This is the mysterious freedom of eros that is a necessary condition for the possibility of true and lasting communion, essential for any liberating education and often missing in Marxist and other accounts of critical pedagogy that ignore its theological roots. Rather than reacting to these limits to the present, well-known literature, we carve out an alternate path.

The most urgent ethical task in the face of genocide is the demand to stop it. But how can the seeming moral clarity of opposition to genocide be reconciled with the failure of adequate political responses? I begin by problematizing the demand and response through the lens of the Save Darfur movement that mobilized millions of people against genocide in the 2000s, and which I suggest articulates the ethical and political challenges at the core of genocide research and its goal of prevention. Within current models of anti-genocide activism, the response remains problematically restricted to the execution of international legal principles and attempts to persuade politicians in powerful countries to “do the right thing” and intervene. In this dissertation, I argue that the ethical demand to stop genocide calls us to imagine anti-genocide activism otherwise. To this end, I retrace the activist call of “never again” to its roots in the Shoah (Holocaust) through theories of witnessing that disturb the positionality of activists in the face of total destruction. The position of the witness clarifies the initial ethical and political challenges of anti-genocide activism as problems of responsibility or the possibility of response. I then conceptualize the gap between the demand and the response as the fault-line of responsibility, which splits open along the faces of ethics and politics. The phenomenological approaches of Emmanuel Levinas and Hannah Arendt make sensible the ethical and political dimensions of responsibility in the full depth of the fault. The tension I stress in the faultline thus resists totalizing narratives of salvation on the one hand, and dehumanizing instrumentalization of restrictive concepts on the other. In the gap of the faultline, questions of judgement and justice open up as situated, contingent, and pluralistic. Attending to the irreducible gap maintains the possibility of response without yielding answers; instead, the separation of the ethical call to respond from political action opens the space and time for a ritualized, collective movement that can take us from thinking to action and back again: praxis. The task at hand is to prepare anti-genocide activists for the restlessness of the questions.

In “Letter on Humanism,” Martin Heidegger juxtaposes the notion of homelessness (Heimlosigkeit) with home-coming (Heimholung), i.e. the reawakening to our original relationship to Being. This focus on dwelling in Being represents an interesting modification from his earlier study of “incipience” (Anfang), which emphasizes departure. We follow the critique of this shift in thinking in Hannah Arendt’s work, beginning with a short allegory titled “Heidegger the Fox” (1953). We suggest that reading this allegory in the light of Arendt’s decades-long debate with Heidegger illuminates the tense relationship between dwelling and incipience (or in her terms, “natality”). Though we do not attempt a complete analysis of Heidegger and Arendt’s works here, we aim to draw out specific movements of their thinking. We suggest that Arendt’s concept of natality, which, though partly influenced by Heidegger, ultimately challenges the authenticity of Heidegger’s solitary, silent thinker who dwells in the House of Being. In the back and forth between their thinking an unresolvable tension between dwelling and departure arises as the existential fissure.

Guest editors' introduction to the issue containing essays originally presented at the 2022 Philosophy of Education Society conference examining Mary Louise Pratt's notion of "contact zones." This issue includes discussions that highlight the “highly asymmetrical relations of power, such as colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths” of contact zones in which we teach and learn. Pratt draws attention towards asymmetry to emphasize the social differences and fluidity of relations that characterize communities (including classrooms), over and against ideas of community that are homogeneous or horizontal. In this issue, we invite readers to consider how these asymmetries play out beyond the classroom itself, through institutional contact as well as through political systems that shape our relationships.

The impossible task of navigating ethical dilemmas and challenges as teachers, students, and persons leaves us vulnerable. Susan B. Dion coined the term “perfect stranger” to describe the ways in which teachers and students protect themselves from this ethical vulnerability. Yet, there is no protection or resolution to be found in an ethical relation. According to Emmanuel Levinas, we are never capable of meeting the ethical demands that the other places upon us. A Levinasian metaphysical lens reveals two ontological problematics of position of perfect stranger: objectivity and innocence. These two problematics go beyond Dion’s pedagogical and political critique. By articulating the metaphysical — and ethical — difficulties of this position that takes refuge in distance and refuses responsibility, the mythology of the perfect stranger is further broken apart by Levinas’ notion of infinite responsibility.

In this essay, the authors explore the phenomenon of utterance we find in speech and teaching. Jean-Luc Marion’s third phenomenological reduction serves as a methodological foundation for this exploration which moves through Biblical literature and autobiography – both centred on the story of the election of Samuel – before leading into a meditation on the Call of and Response to the Other. The Call and Response guide the essay to a theory of prophetic teaching emerging within its phenomenology of utterance that situates itself between philosophical anthropology and philosophical theology, and between Jewish and Catholic traditions.

Many young people, especially in high schools in Canada and the United States, are exposed to a dangerously simplistic “make a difference” narrative that often unravels in the face of very real and complex crises. This essay begins in the moment of social justice education (or indeed any education oriented toward political action) where students learn enough about injustice to ask: “now what?” The paralysis that may emerge from a rupture of that narrative is one of the reasons that the starry-eyed optimism of youth falls away so quickly upon entering into the world, which on a pragmatic level is a barrier to organizing political action. I argue that this question poses a challenge for the teacher, who must decide if and how they will guide the student through the incredible difficulty, complexity, and risk of political action. By drawing on Hannah Arendt’s work, in particular The Human Condition, I will show how Arendt’s account of action can help teachers respond authentically to the “now what?” question and prepare students for “the task of renewing the common world.” The “answers” that Arendt provides to the “now what?” question may seem plain but they are not simple and they do not counteract the enormity of the task before us. In some ways, The Human Condition is itself the “now what?” question; it is the pause required “to think what we are doing” – and what we will do. Arendt’s understanding of action reveals the stakes at hand.