Embodied Challenges: Transformative Learning

As in a relay race, where a baton directly connects one runner to the next, I am compelled to begin my response with the desire that closes Melanie Harris, Carolyn Medine, and Helen Rhee’s insights: the poetic words of Dr. Emilie Townes—

. . . to remember and to enact in my own teaching and scholarshipi want to create, with a good bit of help from students and colleaguesan atmosphere that truly cherishes teaching and learningto care not only about ideasbut the consequences of holding themof living themof losing themof gaining them¹

These words capture the essence of my experience of reading and reflecting upon “Silent Scripts and Contested Spaces.” I am a woman born in the United States, raised by a Hindu, Indian father and a Japanese, Buddhist mother (who converted to Christianity). I am a comparative religious applied ethicist, and I teach religious studies in the academy. Because of my personal and professional background, it might seem reasonable that I was asked to respond to Harris, Medine, and Rhee’s article. When I first skimmed the piece, I could understand objectively how issues of authority, embodiment, evaluation, and emotion are present for women of color in the academy. I knew the authors were capturing the experiences of many, even most, women of color. However, I did not immediately see them as reflecting my own experience.

Although the past two years have been difficult because the institution where I currently teach underwent a process of “prioritization,” I have actually had a great fourteen years teaching in this small, private university in the Midwest. Upon arrival, I learned that I was the unanimous first choice of the search committee. I was welcomed enthusiastically, included on a number of committees, and felt supported in whatever I wanted to do. Within three years of my arrival in small-town middle USA, the university sent me to Hawai’i, India, and China for faculty development workshops and conference presentations. In 2012, I received the George Wythe Excellence in Teaching Award (an award that comes with a sabbatical and $30,000). In 2014, I was promoted to professor without incident, and in 2015, while my department and colleagues did not survive the prioritization cuts, my faculty line did. Is not all this evidence of a great professional experience?

The answer is unequivocally yes: I have been professionally successful and financially and academically supported. However, even during my first reading of the introductory piece to this roundtable, I did identify with the idea of being a “first and only”: I was the first nonwhite tenure-track female faculty member at the institution. Now, I am the first and only female full professor who is not white. Also, when I heard the announcement that my department was cut and only my faculty line remained, I wondered if my colleagues thought that I was spared because of my race and gender. I’ll admit, I questioned this myself.

I was late in coming into the language and understanding of gender and women studies. I have been slow, perhaps even a bit resistant, to apply ideas regarding race and gender to my own story. Because of the rich, diverse cultural and religious environment of my childhood, I grew up questioning presuppositions. Even as a child, I was cognizant of the fact that my experiences, and my understanding of them, were often quite different from those around me. I am difficult to place racially and people often mislabel and misunderstand me. This probably contributes to my resistance to labeling others. However, as I read this article, I was forced to reflect on the ideas of race, gender, and the academy, and I began considering the possible consequences and implications of these ideas. Questions arose as I began to recall certain events. I wondered how my experience actually fit into the realities Harris, Medine, and Rhee describe.

As I mentioned, I have had a positive and productive experience in my current position; I have not felt as if my authority is questioned and what do I know about a silent script? Then I remembered...