Words to Our Now: Imagination and Dissent.

WORDS TO OUR NOW: IMAGINATION AND DISSENT

by Thomas Glave (University of Minnesota Press, 2005)

BY NANCY C. DEJOY

"What could these preposterous imaginings possibly have to do with our curriculum, and how the hell could we actually be speaking about such unheard-of things" (153)? Although this question appears overtly only in one essay in Thomas Glave's extraordinary collection Words to Our Now: Imagination and Dissent, each essay gives us new ways to think about the importance of silenced issues in our educational curricula. In that particular essay, "Regarding a Black Male Monica Lewinsky, Anal Penetration, and Bill Clinton's Sacred White Anus," the "unheard of thing" is apparent: sexual relations between two men, one of whom is president of the United States, the other a black gay male. But all of Glave's essays invite readers to identify and question the grounds upon which they create systems of oppression and punishment (e.g., silence, ignorance, exclusion), especially those based upon histories of racism, sexism, classism, and homophobia. Invoking and stretching the essay form at its best, Words to Our Now not only invites us to look honestly at the ways in which our beliefs operate in the world but also to imagine a less violent, more humane, and compassionate way of believing that the world could be a better place. If you are looking for ways to open these conversations with colleagues and students without setting aside discussions about the beauty of language and the potential of style, Thomas Glave's essays are for you.

The seventeen essays in the book explore race, sexuality, gender, and national identity by focusing on concrete realities like the murder of nineteen-year-old Steen Fenrich (killed and dismembered by his stepfather because he was gay); the homophobic violence present in Jamaica and the United States; the 2004 murder of Brian Williamson, Jamaica's LGBT rights activist; Abu Ghraib; the "difficulties" caused when one cannot discuss one's life honestly with one's friends; and the imperialism of recent U.S. interventions in Iraq. While there have been many fine collections of essays that deal with issues of discrimination based upon race, sexuality, gender, and nationality, Glave's collection is set apart by a constant and gentle insistence that we look at these in relation to personal, familial, institutional, historical, national and international events and practices.

This is not an easy thing to do, nor is it an easy thing to invite students to do, especially when they expect education to present them only with information they assume they should identify with. Glave knows how to use research not only to challenge our habits of identification, however, but also to illustrate alternative ways to build relationships with the harsh realities he confronts. But what really distinguishes Glave's work is that the themes of memory, humanity, and history are woven throughout with a boldness of imagination that is as compassionate to readers as it is to the subject matter. Whether he is exploring early childhood memories to contextualize his place as a gay black male, rereading Thereafter Johnnie, exploring the terrain of dual citizenship, or exposing the difficult questions that confront humanity in times too often driven by hate and fear, Glave is aware of the ways that we must all accept our own and one another's failures as we struggle to make the world a better place. Imagination, which often takes the form of asking questions (how to feel for example, about U.S. terrorism; how to live with, for example, the reality of violence and the acceptance of violence toward specific populations in the U.S. and abroad), opens up a space for exploring the ways in which we might face these difficult realities without being defeated by them. Most importantly, perhaps, Glave shows us how imagining revisions dissent not as an end, or goal, but as the ground upon which the possibilities of compassions emerge and grow.

At a time when many educators are struggling to maintain a space for important discussions about race, class, gender, and sexuality within increasingly conservative sets of standardized expectations, Thomas Glave reminds us that imagination, dissent, and the courage to combine the two can give us cause for real hope. While not every essay may be appropriate in every context or for every group of students, there is at least one that can be used to illustrate the importance of rigorous questioning, imaginative response, honest research, genuine humanity, and courage as central to essay writing in various educational settings. If nothing else, Words to Our Now should make us all rethink the terms upon which we select readings and teach essay writing.