The day before spring break, my classes participated in one of the last “Senior Seminars” of the school year: Am I My Brother’s Keeper?
The topic grows out of James Joyce’s “The Dubliners,” a study of alcoholism, domestic abuse, child molestation and addiction. Obviously, those problems are not limited to Dublin.
The question we ask in this combination English/government classroom is what obligation we have to deal with these issues? What should families, communities, states and federal agencies do? Or should these problems be handled by the individual and any victims?
The subtext to this seminar on others’ human frailties is the drama that has played out as letters of acceptance and rejection have arrived at students’ homes. They didn’t need to see the front page of The Washington Post this week to discover that it is harder than ever to get into college.
“Surly” is the adjective I’d use to describe the general mood this month. Yet that growling exterior masks seniors’ feelings of inadequacy. They are convinced that something they did wrong in calculus, in French club or in their essays was what prevented them from achieving their goal. They see only where they fell short, and not where they succeeded.
Which is why this seminar occurs at a perfect time. Talking about recurring problems, their possible solutions and their ubiquitous nature removes the blinders students have been wearing as they scrutinize their futures.
The first step in this exercise in empathy is to write a monologue from the perspective of someone who suffers from one of the weaknesses displayed in “The Dubliners.” Although their monologues are fictional, many draw on eyewitness accounts of family members or friends.
Then students work in groups to develop family, community, state and federal “solutions” to the problems their monologues address. They predictably have little trouble developing family plans, but are more divided when they ask whether the larger society is responsible for taking care of alcoholics or child molesters.
The interesting part comes later, though, when the entire class of more than 50 students shares monologues and discusses whether we are our brothers’ keepers. Initially, students adopt an “us vs. them” posture.
“We do not suffer from these weaknesses. People need to show will power in breaking bad habits and addictions.”
But on further discussion, every single member of the class — including the teachers — admits to some sort of addiction. We share knowing looks as we hear descriptions of video game obsessions, Sudoku-mania, eating disorders and the poker addictions of some of their friends. As we explore the nature of addiction, we find that it is harder to be judgmental about others’ problems when we see all around us benign versions of the same human frailties targeted by the social programs under consideration.
Although our seminar didn’t solve any of society’s chronic social issues, students became more aware of their prevalence in every venue — including school. “They” really are our brothers.
Students began looking at the world with a new perspective. Some problems are even larger than being admitted to the perfect, highly selective college. Some problems we carry with us wherever we go.
Erica Jacobs teaches at Oakton High School and George Mason University. She can be reached at [email protected].
