Photo credit: Ajay Kumar Singh Diwali is known as the Festival of Lights.

Because I sent an e-mail to some members of the International Institute at Schoolcraft College concerning a “Dwali” Breakfast some of my students will be organizing, a colleague dropped by my office to tell me the correct spelling for the celebration is “Diwali.” Because she knows that I know virtually nothing about this Hindu celebration, she was concerned that I had not made a typo; that I did not know how to spell the name correctly and that I could embarrass myself if I continued to misspell Diwali.

As my colleague was talking to me, I immediately thought of Alix Ahlengren’s insightful response to my blog entry “Your Pronunciation is Good.” After agreeing with me about the benefits of encouragement, Ahlengren argues that a professor should “talk to the student after class about a mistake that could potentially be repeated and show him/her the error.”

Correcting a student or colleague or friend is always difficult and one that requires some tact; especially when a larger issue might requires that we deal with an error publicly. For example, had I written that “Diwali was a celebration that came out of the Islamic tradition,” my colleague would have needed to respond to everyone to whom I had sent my message in order to let them know that Diwali comes from the Hindu tradition. Because most of the individuals who had received my e-mail would know little about Diwali, Hinduism, and Islam, it would be likely that they would repeat this erroneous information to others.

However, something that could have been a misspelling in a casual note did not require a public response. By coming to my office, my colleague allowed me to save face while making sure that I could correct my error before I had a chance to repeat it.

I am grateful to my colleague because the error was not the result of a typo. In doing some preliminary research about the celebration, I had written down the name incorrectly in some of my notes. Because I am very careful about getting such spellings correct and am not prone to making that type of error, I did not verify the spelling before sending out the e-mail. Nor would I have checked the spelling before introducing the “Diwali Breakfast” assignment to my students next week.

Alix Ahlengren is correct. As professors, part of our job is correcting students as well as encouraging them. The private conversation which Alix recommends was modeled well by my colleague and is one that professors need to follow whenever possible. Yet when we must confront a student in front of the class or hit “reply all” in response to a colleague’s e-mail, we must remember that it is as important to minimize embarrassment as it is to correct the error.

This posting was originally published in the International Agenda: Newsletter of the Schoolcraft College International Institute 7.1 (2008): 14

Next semester, when students pick up a copy of Siddhartha, the PagerTurners book selected for February 2009, they might be puzzled that the cover pictures a thin image of the Buddha, not the laughing Buddha Americans typically associate with Buddhism. Then they will likely be surprised to learn that the laughing Buddha is not the founder of Buddhism.

Hotei, the laughing Buddha, is actually a representation of a Chinese Zen monk who lived approximately 1,500 years after the enlightenment of Siddhartha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism. Often depicted carrying a large sack in which he puts the sorrows of the world, Hotei is an important figure in Chinese Buddhism. However, from a Western perspective, his true significance was lost in translation as he traveled from China to America.

After one class last semester, a student told me that he was learning about Buddhism in his philosophy class. When the student repeated his professor’s teaching that the first noble truth was the nature of suffering, I jokingly suggested that the next time he saw his philosophy professor, the student should say, “Dr. Berg says that you are wrong. The first noble truth isn’t suffering. It’s dukkha.”

While I understand the realities that we face as faculty members, I am also aware that “suffering” is an inadequate translation of dukkha. Students who apply dictionary definitions or American cultural understandings of what it means to suffer as a starting point from which to understand the noble truths cannot hope to come to a real appreciation of this basic foundation of Buddhist thought.

For the purposes of his philosophy class, teaching that suffering was the first noble truth was perfectly acceptable. I really don’t have an issue with my colleague teaching Buddhism in translation. But, when the student asked to do a paper on Buddhism, I informed him that he would have to use dukkha. He suffered through some texts I gave to him and came to a much fuller appreciation of Buddhism than he would have had had I not insisted that he add this one Pali term to his vocabulary.¹

This academic year when I teach Culture Shock! Sri Lanka: A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette, I will have the opportunity to introduce the concept of translation as well as the credibility of sources. At one point, Barla and Wanasundera explain that Buddhists practice five precepts on a day-to-day basis. On certain days, they practice eight precepts by adding three more to the original five. All eight precepts are listed in the text. Although it does not make a significant difference for their book, the authors are presenting incorrect information.²

When five precepts are practiced, a Buddhist abstains from kamesu micchacara which is usually translated as either “sexual misconduct” or “adultery.” But when eight precepts are practiced, abrahmacariya (typically translated as “incelibacy”) is substituted for kamesu micchacara. During this discussion, I will tell my students that even if they cite Baria and Wanasundera as their source they will be wrong if they argue that someone practicing eight precepts refrains from adultery. I will also pose the rhetorical question “Is there a difference between sexual misconduct, adultery, and incelibacy?” and will likely joke that if they want to practice the precepts they had better carefully pick their translation.

I do not know much Pali. Therefore, I need to rely on translations. Sometimes the results are humorous. For example, I could not understand the obsession with sex in one portion of the Satipatthana Sutta. After hours of study over several weeks, I finally realized that this section of the Sutta is more interested in people who lust after their neighbors’ goods; not those who covet their neighbors’ wives.

One way that I use to help students appreciate the difficulty of learning Buddhism in translation is to show Capt’n Awesome’s Buddhism is Stupid and Evil.³ This profanity laden diatribe against Buddhism is so extreme that students cannot mistake Capt’n Awesome as a serious scholar. But because it is so extreme, it is easy for students to identify problems when Capt’n Awesome imposes his own definitions of English words translated from a Pali text without considering how Buddhists understand the passages. The Amazing Atheist’s Buddhism: The Great Evil⁴ is an even better example of ethnocentrism, but is too vulgar to show in most classes.

Most of us will not have the opportunity to teach about Buddhism. But we frequently teach other texts in translation; texts–such as the Bible–which often have multiple translations we can compare. And Capt’n Awesome, the Amazing Atheist, and other such scholars on You Tube deliver jeremiads on a variety of topics from many disciplines we can incorporate into our classes.

Because of the difficulties of teaching Buddhism and other texts in translation, when given the opportunity, we owe it to our students to teach them that lust has nothing to do with sex—-at least while they are reading the Satipatthana Sutta.

²Barlas, Robert and Nanda P. Wanasundera. Culture Shock: Sri Lanka. Tarrytown, NY: Marshall Cavendish, 2006.

³http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPu7TI-XXXY

⁴http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNzejoJBAKo&NR=1

This morning’s meditation ended with an offering to the Buddha during which we chanted a variety of texts in Pali.¹ When we finished, the woman sitting next to me commented, “Your pronunciation is good.”

I have worked hard to learn proper pronunciation of Pali; a task that has not been easy for me. This morning, I know that I found myself tongue tied during sections of the Metta Sutta and there were huge gaps when I did not chant anything because I had either lost my place or had become too overwhelmed by some of the long Pali words. Yet, when I am able to form the proper words, my pronunciation is getting pretty good.

Too often in education, faculty members view our job as pointing out errors for the student to correct. In the process, we can forget what the woman who sat next to me this morning knows all too well—that encouragement is a powerful tool.

Earlier this week, one of my students made a big mistake and I was very tempted to explain to him how he could better handle the situation in the future. Fortunately, I was able to realize that the error was based on a misunderstanding and that it was unlikely to happen again. Had I pointed out his error, I would have embarrassed him, caused him to lose face, and made it difficult to establish a comfortable student/faculty relationship. Building his confidence by pointing out real accomplishments did more to help him succeed in my class this semester than anything I might have attempted to accomplish by pointing out his mistake.

There are times when it is appropriate to correct a student’s error. Yet, if I am going to be the best teacher possible, I need to remember my reaction to the woman who complimented my pronunciation. By building my confidence, I am more willing to continue to take the risks necessary to continue improving. I need to remember that her compliment did more to improve my Pali than had she focused her comment on teaching me to properly say “Byārosanā patighasaññā, nāññamaññassa dukkhamiccheyya.”²

¹Pali is an ancient Indian language in which the canonical texts for Theravada Buddhists is written.

²Translation: “Let him not wish any harm to another out of anger or ill-will.”

I tell my students that people will assume that they have a direct connection to what they are researching. Therefore, it is important for them to have an answer for the personal questions and assumptions that might follow. As I begin my first AA related research project in many years, I realize that I will once again have people asking about my personal involvement with Alcoholics Anonymous.

Although I will admit that excessive drinking almost ended my graduate school career, if someone asks if I am involved in Alcoholics Anonymous, I will not answer the question. Instead, I honesty tell people that my involvement with AA related research began in 1984 when Win Weizer, a friend in Dignity, asked me to compile a bibliography on gay and lesbian alcoholics.

This request led to my first book and caused me to change my dissertation topic to AA, Spiritual Issues, and the Treatment of Lesbian and Gay Alcoholics. Over a decade of research and publishing about alcoholism and recovery followed. I will now build on this previous research as I develop the online tutorial “Succeed in College by Practicing These Principles in all Your Affairs.”

The reason I will neither confirm nor deny my involvement in Alcoholics Anonymous is because AA’s eleventh tradition includes the guideline that “we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, and films.” Although this traditional only guides the behavior of AA-alcoholics, I think any of us working in the field of addiction should observe it.

If those of us who are not in recovery freely state our non-involvement in the program, it means that those of us who refrain from answering questions about our involvement must be assumed to be alcoholic. To preserve the anonymity of AA-alcoholics who work in substance abuse research, all of us must refuse to answer the question.

In the process of searching for images I could legally post on my teaching web site, I discovered Morgue File. Later, I learned that there are people on Flickr who have published their photographs with a Creative Commons license. I found photographs I was able to use.

I have also posted images from other individuals who released there work either copyright free, copyleft, in the public domain, or with a limited use license.

Because I benefited—and continue to benefit—from such generosity, I have released some of my photographs through Morgue File and Flickr. In the future, I will continue to release photographs through these two web sites.

If you conduct a search on these sites using my user name, you will be able to see the photographs I have uploaded.

• At Flickr, my user name is “stevenlberg.”
• At Morgue File, my user name is “sberg.”

As part of a presentation on credibility of sources, I showed students a photograph of a shark attacking a soldier dangling from a helicopter. After we had discussed the photograph, my intention was to show students TruthorFiction.com, a web site designed to provide accurate information about e-rumors.

Before I could move to that part of my presentation, a student informed the class that there is a web site called Snopes.com that investigates urban legends and other myths. I pulled the web site up on the computer and then asked the student to show us how it worked. Then, when I gave students their homework assignment, I substituted Snopes.com for TruthorFiction.com, the web site I had originally intended to use.

Earlier in the day, a student in another class brought in a column from the Detroit Free Press because it was relevant to what we had been discussing. I photocopied the article and then distributed it to the class.

By welcoming students as co-teachers, I improve the quality of my classes. I also develop as a professional by learning from them.

10:45am, February 7

(or why I need to re-think an effective teaching strategy)

On February 7, I reserved L-105 and took my history students to the Bradner library.

My plan was to conduct an exercise where I would first present materials and then have the students use library resources to complete a project that would re-enforce information I covered, assess their understanding of the material, and lay the groundwork for the next lesson. After I finished my presentation, I released students from the classroom to begin using the library.

It used to be easy for students to do the tasks I wanted completed during the next half hour. But, beginning fall semester, students began to have problems.

I tried to ignore the difficulties, because I use this effective class structure for several assignments in four different courses. However, at 10:45am, February 7, I had to accept the fact that I need to make adjustments to this strategy because students are running into too many difficulties.

The problem is that the library is getting much too popular.

Three of my students were able to share the one computer that was not already in use.

Fortunately, two students—who were not in my class—were already sharing a computer. Otherwise, there would have been no open computers for my students.

Two students had laptops to use in the classroom. Having laptops in the classroom helps, but I can’t require students to bring them to class.

Nine students left the library to do their work in MC 100. Because the computer lab does not open until 9:00am, this option is not available to students in my 8:00am classes. Furthermore in the computer lab, students are limited to on-line resources and cannot easily consult books, magazines, and the reference librarians.

I’m glad that L-105 was available because that gave a needed place for my students to work together, because…

…all of the study rooms were in use

…all of the tables were in use

…the atrium was crowed

Because I was formerly the Coordinate Writing Fellows, I “know” that mornings were not the most popular time for tutors. But I realize that this knowledge would not past the currency test. As I tell my students, what used to be true—even last year—may no longer be true.

Even this early in the semester, at 10:45am on February 7, at least 20 people were working in the LAC. So using that room as an overflow for my students was not an option.

Even when I used to bring classes to the library, there was never much of a wait for the reference librarian even when he or she was working with other students. But at 10:45am on February 7, the demand was so great that students could have waited up to a half hour to meet with Professor Nuffer.

Fortunately, Professor Pricer ran a supplemental reference desk out of his office. I am aware that Professor Nuffer and Professor Pricer routinely back each other up when lines begin to form.

Usually, as a way to force students to develop relationships with the reference librarians, I refuse to answer questions until they first talk to a reference librarian. But because of the demands at 10:45am on February 7—not just from my students—on Professors Nuffer and Pricer, I taught students how to use the on-line card catalogue. Students then taught other students how to use this resource.

For selfish reasons, I would welcome an empty library reserved for my students.
But I’d rather see a well-used library.

I guess I’ll just have to re-think this effective teaching strategy.

Photo Gallery

Click on the thumbnail to see a larger version of the photographs.Some of the thumbnails may be distorted.

One of my colleagues has helped the monks at the Hilda Jayewardenaramaya Buddhist Center in Ottawa, Canada improve their English. 

To the best of my knowledge, my colleague has never been to the center.  Nor has she ever met Bhante Punna and Bhante Indaratana.  Using conventional western thinking, it is hard to conceive how my colleague could assist monks she does not know.

One effective way for individuals to learn a foreign language is by watching movies in the language they are trying to learn.  When he was living at the Great Lakes Buddhist Vihara in Southfield, I would loan Bhante Indaratana movies.  But, when he moved to Ottawa, there was no DVD at the vihara; a situation I almost had the power to change.

The problem preventing me from buying a DVD player for the Buddhist center was the international border.  Instead of sending a check in American dollars to the Buddhist devotees in Ottawa who would actually make the purchase, I needed a cheque in Canadian dollars. 

Because she is not Buddhist, my colleague did not realize that she was practicing metta–generally translated as loving kindness–when she said that she would go to a Windsor bank and get a Canadian cheque; a cheque I sent to a friend in Ottawa. 

As I was drafting this reflection, I received a phone call from my friend’s sister.  Her brother left a few days ago for Sri Lanka and although she knows little about technology, she will talk to someone who will make sure the monks get what they need.   

Metta, like violence is mimetic.  As a violent act begets more violence, kindness also mimics itself as it is passed on from person to person.

I image my colleague saying something to the effect that all she did was drop by the bank; that it was I who actually spent the money for the DVD.  In my world view, I spend money from my surplus; money left over after all of my needs had been met.  What is the sacrifice of that?  Besides, without my colleague’s help, I could not have practiced generosity. 

Then there is the woman who has taken on the task of learning about DVD players and making the purchase.  She will spend a great deal of time on a task for which she was volunteered.  Yet she is the one who called to thank me for remembering the monks.

We each had a role to play in helping the monks improve their English and we each played our role well.  But there are other roles that are equally important:  the individuals who will help my friend’s sister, those who will set up the DVD once it is purchased, those who make the tea that will be drunk at various times as the project is being completed, and on and on. 

Finally, we also need to remember the words of John Milton, “They also serve who only stand and wait.”  Those who practice metta provided the hospitable environment in which this act of generosity could take place.  And, later, they will take some generous action while I stand and wait for my next opportunity to serve.

Photo Caption: Bhante Indaratana (left) and Bhante Punna (right).

Last year, during a discussion of Jim Crow’s Museum, one of my students disagreed with Dr. David Pilgrim’s analysis of Aunt Jemima.  My student argued that rather than being a racist stereotype, Aunt Jemima was a successful businesswoman.

I must admit that I had similar feelings toward Rastus, the dashing chef who advertises Cream of Wheat.  As Alice Ross explains: “He was depicted as the idealized, dignified black chef, knowledgeable and accomplished in his craft.”¹   Where is the racism? 

Had Rastus been a white chef, he would have been celebrated as an entrepreneur taking pride in his product.  It seemed to me that Dr. Pilgrim was pushing the limits of his analysis.

As a gay man, I know how easy it is to find discrimination everywhere.  I still remember one time when a very drunk woman complained that the heterosexuals in the neighborhood bar didn’t like her because she was a lesbian.  “No,” I thought, “they don’t like you because you’re obnoxious.”

I suspected that because Dr. Pilgrim expects to find racism he analyzed Rastus as a racist stereotype; a hateful thing.  Like the drunken lesbian, he appeared to find what he expected to see.

However, while visiting the Hateful Things exhibit, I realized that it is I—not Dr. Pilgrim—who labored under scholarly limitations.  Although I was familiar with the contemporary Rastus, today I met the Rastus portrayed in a 1921 advertisement; a semi-illiterate chef who doesn’t know what a “vitamine” is; who thinks they could possibly be bugs.  He might appear polished, but underneath his crisp uniform is a racist stereotype who bears a striking resemblance to the ignorant Uncle Tom who enjoys pickin’ and grinin’ and eatin’ watermelons.  Rastus is a racist image.

Last semester, I had a student who was so smart that she didn’t consider the teaching materials I presented to be that important and didn’t consult them while writing her paper.  By relying only on the knowledge she acquired before starting the course, she ended up failing the class. Unlike this student, I continue to consult resources concerning concepts about which I have a great deal of familiarity. Even when I have expertise in an area, I know that I can continue to learn.

Having watched Jim Crow’s Museum at least 20 times as well as having done other research on the topic, I am very familiar with issues of racist memorabilia.  Even though I knew the basic content of Hateful Things, I visited the exhibit anyway.  While there, I met the 1921 Rastus and, as a result, better understand Dr. Pilgrim’s position and the role of racism and racist memorabilia in American society.

One wonderful thing about education is that it does not stop.  It is always possible to learn more about the world in which I live.

“In case you weren’t aware, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday is on Monday…”

–from a student e-mail

Dear Student:

I have received your condescending e-mail message about why it is wrong for Schoolcraft College and me to hold classes on Monday.

To argue that classes should be cancelled because you consider January 21—the federally recognized holiday which is not, in fact, Dr. King’s birthday—to be one of your religious holidays begs the question, “Whose religions should we recognize?” I know that I am expected to meet my classes on my religious holidays and I would never think of asking that the entire college close so that I can practice devotions. The same can be said by many other faculty, students, staff, and administrators. So why should we cancel classes to support your religious beliefs?

Your arguments that Livonia was the whitest city in America and that Detroit is the most segregated do not justify canceling classes. How does not attending class change this situation? While there are solid arguments that support the decision of other area colleges to cancel their classes, the ones you include in your e-mail are not compelling.

I know that you were not present during our last class period when I discussed the issue of Monday’s class.  After acknowledging that informed people might disagree with me, I explained why I do not support simply canceling Monday classes. “How,” I asked, “does sleeping in or going shopping or doing some other mundane task honor Dr. King?”

Instead, it is my belief that we should hold classes.  However, we should use class time to advance Dr. King’s legacy. Colleges should also be encouraged to organize events, seminars, service projects, and so forth—such as the Second Annual Martin Luther King Jr. Day Youth Roundtable on Diversity and Michigan’s Future which is being held Monday on our campus.

This year, the students in my classes will view and discuss Jim Crow’s Museum, a documentary about the Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia at Ferris State University. We will also visit Hateful Things, the traveling exhibit which is currently on our campus.  Information learned from the documentary, exhibit, and our discussion will be integrated into future classes.

I know that some people, like you, wish to participate in community service projects.  As I explained in class, such community service is a very legitimate way to honor Dr. King. Students who participate in such a project will be excused from class.

Even had I not made this announcement, I might suggest that it would have been more in keeping with Dr. King’s philosophy of non-violence for you to ask to be excused from class prior to writing a sarcastic e-mail to your professor.

I do not think that there is any conflict between our class time and the event you want to attend. But if you believe that cutting class is a better way to honor Dr. King than it is to attend class so that you can participate in our discussion of the legacy of racism that is still found in American society, that is your choice and I will support your decision.

Steven L. Berg, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of English and History

P.S. It is also my position that if the federal government can wait until January 21 to celebrate Dr. King’s birthday, then the students in my Tuesday/Thursday classes can wait until January 22 to celebrate the federal holiday. They, too, will view and discuss Jim Crow’s Museum and visit the Hateful Things exhibit.

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