My co-presenter Nick and I immediately exchange a
look—how to tackle this one?
Sensing the pregnancy of our pause, the
student clarifies, “I mean, I hear very much about guns in the U.S. And
many people seem to die, and I hear there are protests where people are
very angry about this, like in Baltimore. But nothing seems to happen.”
As
Fulbrighters called on to function as both teaching assistants and
cultural ambassadors, we’ve just finished our presentation on U.S.
geography and culture to students training to be English teachers. As in
most classes, where I often feel more like a young RA (Resident
American), rather than an actual TA (teaching assistant), this
presentation is followed by an extended Q&A session, with students
asking anything and everything they’ve ever wondered about the American
people. And yet again, as in almost every university class I’ve
presented in, I am asked why Americans seem so passionate about killing
each other.
\
At the time of this
presentation, Baltimore was pulsing with rage and despair sparked by
the brutal murder of Freddie Gray and what had started as a discussion
on the Black Lives Matter movement had broadened into questions about
American gun culture.
Before Nick can respond, I jump in with, “Technically, no, we can’t legally kill other people. But there are many loopholes.”
A couple of students aren’t sure what a
loophole is, so I briefly explain before launching into the differential
treatment of violent offenders based on race; the fact that Trayvon
Martin’s murderer, against all reason, still walks free; the fact that
protesters are attempting to claim basic human rights for black people
within a society rife with military-grade weaponry in the police force
and ridiculous number of guns circulating through private sales.
As
I speak, I’m aware that students are surprised that my voice slips from
neutrality to a more clipped, urgent tone. I know that I have breached
the barrier of cool professionalism expected between student and
teacher.
Nick hesitates. Fighting back the rising
frustration of having to acknowledge that many people in my country
connect tyranny with registration of deadly weapons and liberty with
murder over property rights, I respond, “Yeah, in some states. And
that’s more likely to happen if you’re black.”
Another student raises her hand. “Does that mean everyone there has guns?”
And
suddenly it’s clear to me that what is more incredible for the students
than the rampant racism I’ve just described is the matter of guns. And I
realize, as Nick and I begin explaining that no, not everyone has guns,
and we try to delicately outline the increasing political polarization
around gun control, that I had been misreading the situation.
The
students were intrigued not only by our explanations but by our own
blasé attitudes—that, though both Nick and I
were critical of American gun culture, we also talked about guns as
though they were an inevitable part of life.
No comments:
Post a Comment