Why I Love My Critical Theory Class

I won't lie: graduate school did, at first, overwhelm me. But as time goes on, I find myself able to settle into a rhythm (albeit an ever-shifting one) balancing school, work, and a sort-of social life. (Give me some credit! I took time to go to a rodeo last weekend!)

As I had suspected, though, it was only a matter of time before I found myself getting acclimated. Before I readjusted to how school life works. Granted, this time around I'm juggling a more demanding job, but I'm back into school mode and it feels good.

Anyway, while I enjoy my Narrative Theory class and I find my Composition Theory class intriguing and frustrating in turns, I adore my Critical Theory class. And it isn't because I particularly adore critical theory.

I love the way this particular professor teaches it.

As I discussed with a couple of fellow students on Monday: when I was taught these theories as an undergraduate student, the professors had the tendency to treat each individual theorist as God. (I'm sorry if you find this blasphemous, but I just can't think of a better way to put it.) They were the Ultimate Experts on their theories, and we should not question them. Because they were brilliant! That's why we learned their theories!

(This by the way, is the line of reasoning people followed. Just to clarify. I didn't particularly subscribe to this line of reasoning.)

Any questions about problems inherent to the theories were quickly disposed in whatever way the professor chose, and class continued on back then. As I said, questioning wasn't an option. Unless you were questioning the methods of applying the theories--and even that, sometimes, was kind of a gray zone.

This professor encourages the questioning. Asks us to reason our way through the arguments if we can . . . and then proceeds to tell us why the argument is faulty. Or not faulty. But usually, why the argument is faulty.

My roommate, I can tell you, still exists in the theorist-as-God paradigm, because last week when I declared Plato to be nuts, she told me: "You can't do that. He's Plato." That's right. He's Plato. He's not God. Just because some people thought his ideas were good or important does not mean I can't question those same ideas.

You can imagine how validated I felt when I went to class the next day, and our professor declared Plato to be completely insane. So far: Plato is starking raving mad, Saussure had kinda a good idea, Aristotle sort of got it . . . but sort of didn't. Right now, we're discussing Descartes. Who is also bonkers.

When it comes to learning, I have always been a questioner. That is one of my fundamental ways of learning. I have sometimes questioned the basic premises of theorists (which some professors found interesting and some found annoying) when I didn't understand how they arrived at their basic premise.

I don't care what anyone says, it's very rare for a basic premise to just exist (voila! basic premise! like magic!) in its own natural right and be so intuitive that it can be proven. I'm sure some of you might be itching to disagree with this statement. Disagree away.

I thrive on disagreement. That's why I like this particular class.