reflections

“Education itself is but habit, for are there not people who forget or lose their education and others who keep it?” –Rousseau, “Emile”

Not coming from a Religious Studies background I was not sure what to expect from this class. Already having an MA in philosophy, I was looking for a department that would allow me to continue pursuing my previous research. I was initially attracted to the Religion department at U of T because of its interdisciplinary nature, because this meant I could continue to study philosophy outside of a philosophy department. So in a way I was hoping that this class would introduce me to the world of religious studies. I have to admit my utter despair after the first few classes, especially after reading Masuzawa. What I expected I am not sure, I just knew that this was not it. I spent those weeks questioning whether I should have come to a religion department, and how this discussion of methodology bore any relevance to my own work. I made my philosophy Professor laugh when I went into her office and complained about the concept of methodology. Her response of yes philosophy has its own internal method of logic was the best catalyst for my attempt to theorize about the class and to find a place within the discipline. In fact, I shifted my focus from “how does this relate to my research” to “what is the underlying logic and structure of this concept”. By shifting my focus I discovered that this approach to the weekly readings allowed me to construct a theoretical framework for the concept of “religion”. It was a reminder that what you learn is not necessarily contingent upon the classes you take but upon the questions you ask of those classes. Therefore, I found it fitting to begin with the quote from Rousseau. My initial frustration with the class forced me to create a new “habit” of scholarly enquiry.

Having already gone through one MA program, I came into the class with a grounded academic voice from my first graduate experience. I entered the program with a specific goal in mind, not to “start over” and create a new voice, but to add to the voice I had already begun to develop. More than anything, this class re-affirmed my commitment to philosophy and studying Sufism and Ibn al-‘Arabi as philosophy. I will always view my study of religion as contingent upon and subordinate to my study of philosophy, but the weekly writing exercises helped me to see how I can meaningfully articulate and use this. I would have to say that the two non-philosophy graduate courses I have taken thus far, one in my previous program and this class, have been the most influential on my academic persona. Both have shaped my interest in ethics. This class forced me to be creative in my approach, and as a result I found new arguments to strengthen my academic goals.

I found the blog entries to be useful and frustrating. It was useful because it allowed me to reflect on opinions/interpretations in the readings and about the readings that differed greatly from mine. One of the brilliant advantages of an interdisciplinary program is that it fosters dialogue between scholars from different fields, and thus enriches the perspectives of the individual scholars involved. The challenge has been to not just react, but to listen, understand, adapt, and respond. By actively engaging in the activities of reaction and response with a group who had very different academic backgrounds I was challenged to engage the material and argue in a manner very different than I was used to. The only thing that I would change about the enterprise would be to switch the groups half way through the semester. I found that as the semester progressed I began to write more in anticipation of the response I expected from my group than merely reflecting on the readings. It would have been interesting to mix the response groups in the middle to see how this would have shifted the dynamic of the discussions.

The use of specific terms to guide the weekly discussion was a useful way to allow each individual to grapple with a broadly construed concept within the context of his/her own research area. While the readings were for the most part contextually specific within a certain religion or approach (history, anthropology, etc.) this did not restrict the bounds of enquiry. The emphasis in class on our own writings and interpretations helped to foster this. This pedagogical method shifts the focus from analyzing the arguments and approaches of the readings to analyzing the students’ own arguments and approaches. This forced each student to question his/her own position and approach. One of the dangers of this approach is that students will be left wandering hopelessly in the realm of relativism. The prevalence of postmodern and deconstructionist theory within the university offers as many dangers as benefits. Yet within this model the Instructor must act as a safety net for the wandering student. That is why once again I am reminded of Rousseau’s “Emile”. Rousseau says:

“I am teaching my pupil an art the requirement of which demands much time and trouble, an art which your scholars certainly do not possess; it is the art of being ignorant; for the knowledge of any one who only thinks he knows, what he really does know is a very small matter.” (Rousseau, “Emile”)

Rousseau goes on to explain that this art of being ignorant is teaching Emile the tools for learning the sciences. Instead of being taught what he needs to know Emile is being taught how to learn first. Parallel to this I would say that the structure of this class taught us the art of being ignorant. It dismantled all the “knowledge” we brought, and made us investigate the broken architecture. At the end it did not give us new knowledge per se but tools that we can use to consciously re-build our knowledge.