In Chapter 3, through an experiment about how different
groups of children come to understand the implications of a particular text
(involving a girl who may or may not imply that she wants someone to be beaten
up), Gee illustrates that different texts mean different things to different
people, based upon however they make meaning. He explains,
“Texts
and the various ways of reading them do not flow full-blown out of the
individual soul (or biology). They
are the social and historical inventions of various groups of people. One always and only learns to interpret
texts of a certain type in certain ways through having access to, and ample
experience in, social settings where texts of that type are read in those
ways. One is socialized or
enculturated into a certain social practice. In fact, each of us is socialized into many such groups and
social institutions” (45).
This idea of our knowledges being wrapped up in our social
and ideological situations is, for all intensive purposes, quite akin to Donna
Haraway’s concept of “situated knowledges.” That is, the idea that all
knowledge (and what others might call “truth”) is partial and situational
rather than fixed and concrete.
Gee poignantly deconstructs the myth of a single way to
read a text when he begins to interrogate the process of “reading” a text. He asks, “How does one acquire the ability to read a certain type of
text in a certain way? (40).
Further, Gee invites us to think about the implications of power for
this kind of reading—who is it, he asks, that gets to decide how we ought to or
ought not to read texts? Why do they get to make this decision? What larger
ideological purposes and powers does this “correct answer” serve? The answer is
unequivocally what bell hooks would call the “white-supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy” that we are entrenched in.
These questions that Gee
asks have striking consequences for folks like me interested in teaching
literature. Ascribing a great deal
to the idea of “situated knowledges” and the importance of critical, analytical
reading, I often remind students when they do writing or discussing in my
classes that they can put forth any reading that they want to as long as it is supported by the text.
However, in saying this, I’ve
always taken it rather for granted that “supported by the text” is going to
mean basically the same thing for everyone.
I wonder now if this is
the case? If I am always as well equipped to judge whether or not there is a
basis for such a reading based upon the evidence that a student gives as I
thought I was. That’s not to say
that there are not times in fact where our students read texts incorrectly—one
cannot possibly support the claim that Beowulf is killed by Grendel. The text
just doesn’t at all support
that reading. However, where does a student’s reading have to be on continuum
between “not at all supported” and “my own reading of the text” before I take
it completely seriously? What if their reading, and they as people, are just
too far outside of my situated-ness for me to recognize? And, more importantly,
what are the consequences for a student who is not seeing their ideas/knowledge
affirmed? Gee, I think, would
argue that they are larger than we might imagine.