As readers of this blog might remember, Peggy and I have just moved to Westport, Connecticut. In an earlier posting, I explained that we’re here largely to be near our four grandchildren. My daughter, Maggie, our son-in-law, Kerry, along with Eva (9 yrs.), Oscar (7), Orlando (5), and Markandeya (3) live at 69 Clinton Avenue. Peggy and I are now located at 33 Clinton. It’s a 10-minute walk between our two houses.
And so far, it’s working out just fine. We’re pretty well moved into our new digs which are quite a bit smaller than what we became used to in Berea, Kentucky. But we’re finding comfort in the down-sizing. After all small is beautiful.
Along those lines, however, I do find myself missing the small-town atmosphere that we got so comfortable with in Berea. Forty-five years in Kentucky definitely turned me into a country mouse. Here in Westport, a virtual suburb of New York City, things are quite different. The pace if faster; the traffic is heavier; the prices are higher.
But with Westport and that proximity to NYC come a lot of benefits. For instance, our new location has a wonderful Playhouse. Just this weekend, Peggy and I took in “Man of La Mancha” that had been performing there to rave reviews. The reviews were well-deserved. We came away truly inspired.
And then there’s a nine-week course I have enrolled in and am attending each Saturday in the heart of Manhattan. That’s what I want to tell you about here. As Chuck Berry might say, at sweet 78, I’m back in class again.
The course is called “The Frankfurt School and the Paradoxical Idea of Progress: Thinking beyond Critical Theory.” The sessions are taught by Stanley Aronowitz (pictured above), an emeritus professor of sociology, cultural studies, and urban education at the City University of New York (CUNY) Graduate Center. Stanley is a widely-published authority on critical theory. Peggy and I had met him years ago (around 1990) at the Socialist Scholars Conference at CUNY. His work on Paulo Freire and our friendship with Paulo were our connecting points.
My primary purpose in attending Stanley’s class is to deepen my understanding of critical theory, which lies at the basis of my related book The Magic Glasses of Critical Thinking: Seeing Through Alternative Fact and Fake News.
True, my book addresses what is called “critical thinking” here in the United States. But the latter’s exclusive emphasis on logic and detecting fallacies is a far cry from critical theory as understood in the rest of the world. There it is profoundly informed by Marxism and the work of Theodor Adorno, Walter Benjamin, Max Horkheimer, Herbert Marcuse, Eric Fromm – all members of the so-called Frankfurt School.
Just as my book does, the Frankfurt School emphasized the structural causes of the way we think: capitalism, its ideology, and the ways thinking is influenced by capitalism’s history, colonial practices, and associated understandings of violence, terrorism and other obfuscations. As I explain in my book, I picked up almost everything I know of that kind of critical thinking from the liberation theologians I’ve studied with in Rome, Brazil, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Mexico, Cuba, Zimbabwe, South Africa, India, and Israel. Liberation theology is deeply influenced by the Frankfurt School.
So, my first purpose in attending was to learn more about critical theory unfiltered through theology. My secondary purpose was to meet other leftists, to find out what they’re up to in the NYC area, and to possibly join them in their efforts at creating a world with room for everyone.
The Aronowitz class meets Saturday afternoons from 12:00-2:00 at The People’s Forum on 320 East 37th Street. Getting there has me taking the 10:08 train from Westport to Grand Central Station. That reaches its destination about 11:30. Then I walk a mile and a quarter down 42nd Street to Broadway, and then to East 37th. On the way, I pass the New York City Library and thousands of very interesting-looking people.
The first meeting drew about 30 people. Though extremely interesting, it frustrated my purpose of getting to know people. Stanley didn’t have us introduce ourselves. So, I came away with only the vaguest notions of who was there. They were of all ages, though slightly tilted towards my own cohort. Mostly men, though about a third were women.
For homework, Stanley assigned a very difficult reading from Adorno’s Critical Models. It was an 18-page essay called “Progress.” It turned out to be one of the most abstract pieces I’ve ever read. I found it kind of exciting though. It made me feel like I was in graduate school again – reading something very serious. However, Aronowitz was right: “You have to read it about three times to get what Adorno’s saying.”
Well, I did that. It took me about half-an-hour to read each page. And later (even though it wasn’t part of the assignment) I wrote a 1000-word essay of response. It’s the kind of essay I always wanted my students at Berea to produce after readings I assigned there.
In any case, Stanley’s second class had about half the number of attendees as the first. Our actual class size is 12 students. (Stanley said the class size-difference is normal.) As it turns out, most of them (largely 50 yrs. and older) are Aronowitz groupies. As far as I can tell, I’m the only one who hasn’t taken a previous class with him. The others are all Marxists more or less (I guess I fall into that category as well) – all very smart and well-read.
So, I’m having fun here in Westport. The three classes I’ve attended so far have been dynamite.
Tomorrow or the next day, I’ll share the essay I mentioned above.
4 thoughts on ““Sweet Little 78” and Back in Class Again”
Theories can be quite elaborate and interesting, but our social reality is very simple – the rich and powerful few are dominating and exploiting the ignorant and weak many, and in the process are on their way to destroying our planet and all of us hapless humans. How to stop them from doing this, and establish a global social reality based on mutual care, sharing, and peace is our problem. If our solution to this fundamental problem is as complicated as some would have it, then we are truly screwed, because while we are endlessly intellectualizing, the world will be destroyed.
Most difficult books I have read are a testament to their author’s lack of clarity.
Mike: Thanks so much for your comment on Aronowitz’s class and the readings I described. You know how much I appreciate your ever-insightful contributions to discussion. This one was especially apt. I agree with you that these matters are not that complicated. Jesus and the great teachers of history never resorted to complexities unintelligible to ordinary people. Yes, they often described life’s mysteries through story, parable, riddle, and paradox. But those vehicles were themselves graspable by everyone; they excluded no one from the conversations and debates they stimulated. I’ll have more to say about this as I share my responses to the readings in the Critical Theory class. Thank you again for sharing your wisdom. ________________________________
The very words that we use to think and communicate are distorted and inaccurate. Our thinking is polluted with falsehoods and misrepresentations. We live in a fog of delusions and myths and lies about everything. To begin to realize this, is to begin awakening to simple, primal realities. Meditation and zen are ways to let go of this internalized mass of nonsense. To be a witness means to see reality without all the distorting contents of our mind interfering in the fact of simple recognition.
We are victims of our own mind’s constant interpretation and contamination of our experience. How to turn off this deluding mechanism is the purpose of meditation. The reality we experience is a construction of our memories and conditioning. To see things afresh, we must silence the inner voices of what we have taken to be reality. Stepping away from all of this inner accumulation is not easy – it turns out that we have become addicted to our version of things, and instinctively struggle to hold on to it. To let go of our version of reality seems to be inviting a dangerous insanity, and all sorts of unpredictable experiences. Taking psychedelics is a chemical way to force ourselves into uncharted and novel experiences. Sufi work does the same without the distorting effects of chemicals.