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Guest Essay

The Most Important Thing I Teach My Students Isn’t on the Syllabus

By Frank Bruni

Mr. Bruni is a contributing Opinion writer and the author of the forthcoming book “The Age of Grievance,” from which this essay is adapted.

I warn my students. At the start of every semester, on the first day of every course, I confess to certain passions and quirks and tell them to be ready: I’m a stickler for correct grammar, spelling and the like, so if they don’t have it in them to care about and patrol for such errors, they probably won’t end up with the grade they’re after. I want to hear everyone’s voice — I tell them that, too — but I don’t want to hear anybody’s voice so often and so loudly that the other voices don’t have a chance.

And I’m going to repeat one phrase more often than any other: “It’s complicated.” They’ll become familiar with that. They may even become bored with it. I’ll sometimes say it when we’re discussing the roots and branches of a social ill, the motivations of public (and private) actors and a whole lot else, and that’s because I’m standing before them not as an ambassador of certainty or a font of unassailable verities but as an emissary of doubt. I want to give them intelligent questions, not final answers. I want to teach them how much they have to learn — and how much they will always have to learn.

I’d been on the faculty of Duke University and delivering that spiel for more than two years before I realized that each component of it was about the same quality: humility. The grammar-and-spelling bit was about surrendering to an established and easily understood way of doing things that eschewed wild individualism in favor of a common mode of communication. It showed respect for tradition, which is a force that binds us, a folding of the self into a greater whole. The voices bit — well, that’s obvious. It’s a reminder that we share the stages of our communities, our countries, our worlds, with many other actors and should conduct ourselves in a manner that recognizes this fact. And “it’s complicated” is a bulwark against arrogance, absolutism, purity, zeal.

I’d also been delivering that spiel for more than two years before I realized that humility is the antidote to grievance.

We live in an era defined and overwhelmed by grievance — by too many Americans’ obsession with how they’ve been wronged and their insistence on wallowing in ire. This anger reflects a pessimism that previous generations didn’t feel. The ascent of identity politics and the influence of social media, it turned out, were better at inflaming us than uniting us. They promote a self-obsession at odds with community, civility, comity and compromise. It’s a problem of humility.

The Jan. 6 insurrectionists were delusional, frenzied, savage. But above all, they were unhumble. They decided that they held the truth, no matter all the evidence to the contrary. They couldn’t accept that their preference for one presidential candidate over another could possibly put them in the minority — or perhaps a few of them just reasoned that if it did, then everybody else was too misguided to matter. They elevated how they viewed the world and what they wanted over tradition, institutional stability, law, order.

It’s no accident that they were acting in the service of Donald Trump, whose pitch to Americans from the very start was a strikingly — even shockingly — unhumble one. “I alone can fix it,” he proclaimed in his 2016 speech accepting the Republican Party’s nomination for president; and at his inauguration in January of the following year, the word “humbled,” which had been present in the first inaugural remarks of both Barack Obama and George W. Bush, was nowhere to be found. Nor were any of its variants. That whole sentiment and politesse were missing, as they had been during a campaign centered on his supposed omniscience.

There are now mini-Trumps aplenty in American politics, but anti-Trumps will be our salvation, and I say that not along partisan or ideological lines. I’m talking about character and how a society holds itself together. It does that with concern for the common good, with respect for the institutions and procedures that protect that and with political leaders who ideally embody those traits or at least promote them.

Those leaders exist. When Charlie Baker, a former Massachusetts governor, was enjoying enormous favor and lofty approval ratings as a Republican in a predominantly Democratic state, he was also stressing the importance of humility. He was fond of quoting Philippians 2:3, which he invoked as a lodestar for his administration. “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit,” it says. “Rather, in humility value others above yourself.”

That’s great practical advice for anyone in government, where most meaningful success hinges on teamwork and significant progress requires consensus. Governing, as opposed to demagoguery, is about earning others’ trust and cooperation. Exhibiting a willingness to listen to and to hear them goes a long way toward that.

“Insight and knowledge come from curiosity and humility,” Mr. Baker wrote in a 2022 book, “Results,” coauthored with his chief of staff, Steve Kadish, a Democrat. “Snap judgments — about people or ideas — are fueled by arrogance and conceit. They create blind spots and missed opportunities. Good ideas and interesting ways to accomplish goals in public life exist all over the place if you have the will, the curiosity, and the humility to find them.”

Humble politicians don’t insist on one-size-fits-all answers when those aren’t necessary as a matter of basic rights and fundamental justice. Humble activists don’t either. The campaign for same-sex marriage — one of the most successful social movements of recent decades — showed that progress can be made not by shaming people, not by telling them how awful they are, but by suggesting how much better they could be. Marriage-equality advocates emphasized a brighter future that they wanted to create, not an ugly past that they wanted to litigate. They also wisely assured Americans that gay and lesbian people weren’t trying to explode a cherished institution and upend a system of values, but instead wanted in.

“I don’t want to disparage shouting and demands — everything has its place,” Evan Wolfson, the founder of the pivotal advocacy group Freedom to Marry, told me when we revisited the movement’s philosophy and tactics. At times, he acknowledged, champions of a cause “need to break the silence, we need to push, we need to force.”

“But I used to say, ‘Yes, there’s demanding, but there’s also asking,’” he recalled. “And one is not the enemy of the other. People don’t like being accused, people don’t like being condemned, people don’t like being alienated. It’s a matter of conversation and persuasion.”

That’s consistent with the message delivered by Loretta Ross, a longtime racial justice and human rights advocate, through her teaching, public speaking and writing. Troubled by the frequent targeting and pillorying of people on social media, she urged the practice of calling in rather than calling out those who’ve upset you. “Call-outs make people fearful of being targeted,” she wrote in a guest essay for Times Opinion . “People avoid meaningful conversations when hypervigilant perfectionists point out apparent mistakes, feeding the cannibalistic maw of the cancel culture.” Instead, she advised, engage them. If you believe they need enlightenment, try that route, “without the self-indulgence of drama,” she wrote.

She was preaching humility.

She was also recognizing other people’s right to disagree — to live differently, to talk differently. Pluralism is as much about that as it is about a multiracial, multifaith, multigender splendor. That doesn’t mean a surrender or even a compromise of principles; a person can hold on to those while practicing tolerance, which has been supplanted by grievance. Tolerance shares DNA with respect. It recognizes that other people have rights and inherent value even when we disagree vehemently with them.

We all carry wounds, and some of us carry wounds much graver than others. We confront obstacles, including unjust and senseless ones. We must tend to those wounds. We must push hard at those obstacles. But we mustn’t treat every wound, every obstacle, as some cosmic outrage or mortal danger. We mustn’t lose sight of the struggle, imperfection and randomness of life. We mustn’t overstate our vulnerability and exaggerate our due.

While grievance blows our concerns out of proportion, humility puts them in perspective. While grievance reduces the people with whom we disagree to caricature, humility acknowledges that they’re every bit as complex as we are — with as much of a stake in creating a more perfect union.

The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips . And here’s our email: [email protected] .

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Frank Bruni is a professor of journalism and public policy at Duke University, the author of the book "The Age of Grievance" and a contributing Opinion writer. He writes a weekly email newsletter .   Instagram   Threads   @ FrankBruni • Facebook

The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act Essay

Can one person’s freedom lie in the suppression of another person’s freedom? In recent years, the movement to protect and defend the rights of the LGBTQ+ community has seen a significant boost. However, it has seen a plethora of challenges as well. One of these challenges presents itself in the form of the Florida Parental Rights in Education Act, which has been deemed an intrusion upon LGBTQ+ rights (Kline et al., 2022). The Act prohibits the discussion of gender identity and sexual orientation in grades K-3, which has led several parents to file lawsuits against schools that have to abide by the Act. The parents claim that the Act goes against the First Amendment, infringing upon freedom of speech (Leonard, 2022). In the age of widely open political debates and the spread of various types of information, the idea of freedom becomes increasingly muddled by different rhetoric and agendas.

Florida Senate passed the Florida Parental Rights in Education Act (also known as the Don’t Say Gay Act) in March of 2022. As the proponents of the Act state, it aims to prohibit school districts from making critical decisions regarding the children’s mental health and emotional state without parents’ permission (Leonard, 2022). Those, who support the Act, claim that this measure would prevent the use of sexually explicit and age-inappropriate content in schools. In addition, it is highly beneficial to have parents be involved in the education process as its positive outcomes include better grades and attitudes towards school (Ornstein et al., 2017). It is logical to have parents influence discussions that take place in the classroom as well.

On the other hand, there are claims that, in actuality, the Act aims to impede the freedom of speech of LGBTQ+ community members. Indeed, the restrictions lie not only within not allowing the introduction of explicit materials to children aged three to five. More specifically, it prohibits the discussion of gender identity and sexuality, which, in turn, prevents children from stating their gender inclinations, preferences, or family situation. For example, a child of same-sex parents or with queer family members is not allowed to mention them in school. Therefore, the Act creates a clash between two freedoms: the freedom to educate one’s child to the parents’ liking and the freedom of speech and expression. Furthermore, this places the freedom of those who believe gender identity and sexuality discussion to be detrimental to a child’s development above the freedoms of those who do not. Naturally, this clash leads to legal problems for the school districts. On the one hand, they could face repercussions for not abiding by the Act. On the other hand, dissatisfied parents can file lawsuits on the grounds of freedom of speech infringement.

In conclusion, the question of freedom of speech is a serious topic that can be approached from various angles. Florida Parental Rights in Education Act creates one such example. In order to avoid the negative consequences that the clash of two agendas can generate, the school board can devise a policy to consider the parents’ input on the subject. The school can hold a meeting where the parents can discuss their preferences regarding gender identity and sexual orientation discussions and how to define age-appropriate topics. In addition, the parents should be warned that preventing children from speaking out on these matters infringes upon the freedom of speech right.

Kline, N. S., Griner, S. B., Neelamegam, M., Webb, N. J., Morales, J. J., & Rhodes, S. D. (2022). Responding to “Don’t Say Gay” laws in the US: Research priorities and considerations for health equity. Sexuality Research and Social Policy , 1–6.

Leonard, A. S. (2022). US district court tosses constitutional & title IX challenge to Florida ‘Don’t Say Gay” provision on standing grounds. LGBT Law Notes, 13–14.

Ornstein, A. C., Levine, D. U., Gutek, G. L., & Vocke, D. E. (2017). Foundation of education. (3 rd edition ed.). Cengage Learning.

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IvyPanda. (2024, April 28). The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act. https://ivypanda.com/essays/the-florida-parental-rights-in-education-act/

"The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act." IvyPanda , 28 Apr. 2024, ivypanda.com/essays/the-florida-parental-rights-in-education-act/.

IvyPanda . (2024) 'The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act'. 28 April.

IvyPanda . 2024. "The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act." April 28, 2024. https://ivypanda.com/essays/the-florida-parental-rights-in-education-act/.

1. IvyPanda . "The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act." April 28, 2024. https://ivypanda.com/essays/the-florida-parental-rights-in-education-act/.

Bibliography

IvyPanda . "The Florida Parental Rights in Education Act." April 28, 2024. https://ivypanda.com/essays/the-florida-parental-rights-in-education-act/.

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Essay by UW–Madison’s Jones shares origins of ‘These Grand Places’ photography project

UW–Madison’s Tomiko Jones, an assistant professor in the School of Education’s Art Department, has written an essay about her long-form photography-based project, “These Grand Places,” for the digital magazine Edge Effects .

Jones’ photography and multidisciplinary installations explore social, cultural, and geopolitical transitions, considering the twin crises of too much and too little in the age of climate change. Running themes within her work include ecological concerns, questions of belonging, and activated cultural traditions.

In the essay, “Imagining National Belonging in American Landscapes,” Jones discusses the origins of “These Grand Places” in the road trips of her childhood and in her lived experience as a person of multiracial identity. “From elementary school to graduate studies, I often could not find myself in the history I was taught, the artwork I saw, or the archives I studied,” Jones writes. “The desire to repair the feeling of being outside official histories and search for a sense of belonging has ultimately defined my creative practice and shaped my scholarly research.”

“My project ‘These Grand Places’ arguably began during my graduate studies as an investigation into the construct of identifying land as ‘ours’,” Jones adds. “Photography, as an invention and tool, played a significant role in Manifest Destiny, in hegemonic narratives of how the nation was made, identified, and ‘conquered’.”

Jones notes the project, which got its start through a Seed Grant through the School of Education’s Grand Challenges grant program, was also informed by her participation in the First Nations Cultural Landscape Tour , led by Omar Poler.

During their walk, Jones writes, Poler asked the question: “What if we were to look at this place in a different way, through new eyes? How would that change how we acted?”

She adds that this question introduced a new philosophical idea to explore in her work: “How do we see differently?”

“These Grand Places” will premiere in a multimedia installation in Jan. 2025 as part of Jones’ mid-career exhibition.

To learn more, read Jones’ essay, “ Imagining National Belonging in American Landscapes .”

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