by Laurel Kim (Class of 2019, History major)
As a student who studies in the humanities, I have wondered how the humanities can reach outside the classroom and beyond the formalities of academia. Especially the more I studied and read works concerning critical thought and social theory, the more advanced the material would become. Fortunately, in my time studying deeply profound critical insights at Rice University, I was always equipped with faculty and peers in a classroom setting who would provide valuable input and guidance whenever necessary. Hence these at times esoteric scholarly pieces of work and their insights were rarely inaccessible to me and consistently enriched—not confused—my knowledge or understanding.
However, I often wondered how to translate the scholarly materials that I was learning in the classroom into more widely-accessible modes of communication. In “The Engaged Humanities: Principles and Practices for Public Scholarship and Teaching,” Gregory Jay calls to attention and confronts academic scholarship. Jay outlines two “fronts” of critiques regarding the humanities: one that challenges the “presumptive universalism” of the humanities and the other that calls out unintended hypocrisy of cultural studies scholars and post-structuralists. Since the 1960s, the “sociopolitical movements on behalf of oppressed or exploited identity groups” called out the “presumptive universalism of the academic humanities curricula” and exposed the “degree to which previous dominant views of what it meant to be human restricted that image to whites and males and the rich and powerful” (53). Additionally, while post-structuralists and cultural studies people initially “challenged the dominant models of aesthetic formalism and historical objectivity,” they ultimately failed to write “in ways accessible to a large common reading public” and to “spend much time in active collaboration with schools, museums, social agencies, or community groups” (53). Instead, the scholarship of cultural studies “was easily accommodated by the institutional regimes of publication, tenure, and a new ‘star system’ of celebrity thinkers who appealed to an exclusively academic audience” (53). Of the many other limitations regarding the humanities and its scholarship, these two fronts of critique encompass the larger issue that Jay’s understanding of public humanities attempts to solve—the inaccessibility of the humanities.
Being aware thus of the inaccessibility of the humanities and its academic scholarship, I desired to learn how to effectively present critical thought and social theory in a way that is more easily digested, but not watered down. In other words, I wanted to learn how to apply critical frameworks in different mediums—not in a research paper or any other form of formal writing. Considering my desire to expand my abilities to apply the critical insights that I had been learning in a humanities context, being part of the IWS’s Project Institute Gulf Coast was a very rewarding experience. Getting to collaborate with others and contribute to the Project Institute Gulf Coast will always be one of the most memorable experiences I have as a humanities student.
I learned, through the Institute Gulf process, how critical frameworks can be translated into more accessible forms without compromising the critical frameworks’ depth of insight. Social theory should and can be applied to local situations in order to help address real problems. The Institute Gulf not only challenged me to think and write in a different way, but also allowed me to be part of a process of knowledge production. Seeing it all come together—from the social theory materials to classroom board discussions to the kayaking field work to the writing workshops—was truly a priceless experience for a humanities student like myself who desires to apply and construct different knowledges for broad public audiences.