No Safe Space: James Arnt Aune and the Controversial Classroom

Abstract

No Safe Space:James Arnt Aune and the Controversial Classroom Paul Stob (bio) In a 2004 essay in Rhetoric & Public Affairs, James Arnt Aune described a provocative exchange that took place in his senior-level Religious Communication class at Texas A&M University. The issue at hand was gay marriage, and Aune's students, who were overwhelmingly Protestant Christian, asked him "the Jewish view of homosexuality, as if there truly could be such a thing."1 Aune launched into an animated discussion of the problems of textual interpretation in the Jewish tradition, the variety of possible readings of the Torah, and the difficulties of applying an ancient oral tradition to current practices. He also explained how one could obey the letter of the Torah "simply by engaging in mutual masturbation or fellatio and avoiding anal intercourse (as in fact many Orthodox Jewish gay men do currently)."2 At the end of the discussion, "my students seemed quite shocked," Aune reported. They were particularly shocked at his "legalistic" approach the Old Testament, which seemed like casuistic stretching of a sacred text.3 Those of us who had the opportunity to sit in Aune's classrooms can likely remember similar instances—times when Aune, flushed with color, challenged the presumptions of his students, spoke in ways that made them uncomfortable, and ultimately helped them see an issue from a new perspective. "Classrooms should be unsafe spaces," Aune routinely told his [End Page 555] students, and for more than 30 years, at institutions across the country, he demonstrated the intellectual value of this maxim. At Tulane, Virginia, Iowa, St. Olaf, St. Thomas, Penn State, and Texas A&M, he forced students to rethink received wisdom. As one of his former students recalls, Aune knew full well that "intellectually unsafe and challenging classrooms are the most productive."4 At the same time, however, he knew how to use conflict, debate, argument, controversy, and offensive ideas to connect with his students. His ire "was always directed toward the end of knowledge—which he had in abundance and which he imparted in abundance. It was never threatening even if it was sometimes couched in vehemence."5 From 2002 to 2004, I was fortunate enough to sit in some of Jim Aune's classrooms and witness his ire and vehemence come together in moments of profound pedagogy. During those years, as I completed my master's degree under Aune's direction, Aune shaped my life and career in more ways than I can explain. He was simultaneously my teacher, mentor, critic, companion, confidant, sounding board, advisor, editor, book recommender, and friend. My memories of these years remain vivid. I recall, for example, flopping down in Jim's office shortly after arriving in College Station to discuss pragmatism, Marxism, and Cornel West—whose name I mistakenly pronounced as "Colonel" West, prompting Jim to burst into hysterics. I recall standing on the stairs of Bolton Hall, which housed the Department of Speech Communication, as Jim smoked cigarettes and chatted with me about everything from Diet Coke to Foucault, who, we both agreed, seemed a little too pessimistic about life and social change. I recall insisting that Jim watch South Park because it was a brilliant form of cultural critique and not the pointless drivel he had been led to believe. I also recall giving Jim a copy of my grandfather's doctoral dissertation—an analysis, written in German, of Max Weber's religious sociology—because Jim was one of the few people I knew who enjoyed reading old theological works in German. Above all, I recall my time in the classroom with Jim. At Texas A&M I took three formal classes with him—Rhetorical Perspectives in Communication, Modern Rhetorical Theories, and Freedom of Speech—in addition to two independent studies. In each class he demonstrated the intellectually generative potential of controversy, criticism, uncomfortable thoughts, and offensive ideas. Jim firmly believed, following the Jewish tradition, that "argument itself" was "a sacred activity."6 He detested the idea that any topic, claim, or discourse was somehow above the realm of argument, [End Page 556] somehow beyond "democratic discussion and debate."7 Whatever shyness or reticence he may have shown in...