I often describe myself is as an ‘activist-academic.’ (I use the hyphen rather than a dash or a space not for any other reason that the fact that a friend of mine has a hyphen in her surname and it has always given me ‘name envy.’)
But what does this mean? How does one ‘do’ activist-academia? To be honest, I do not know exactly know what being an activist-academic involves and I believe that that there is no single model academics follow to become activists (or activists follow to become academics for that matter).
It is a fair question to ask – especially at a time when fulltime positions are hard to come by and many of the post-grads that are working to complete their PhDs are desperate for a job and can be seen to be hostage to their institution. As such, the precarious nature of their position means that they do not want to ‘rock the boat.’
I am lucky – obtaining a fulltime academic position within two years of graduating: all about being in the right place at the right time. It was not too long ago that in addition to doing my PhD, I did nine tutorials and gave lectures across three institutions. I was also employed by Oxfam Hong King and actually commuted a few times from Sydney to Hong Kong.
While in Hong Kong, I took part in several protests and at one point was tear-gassed: all about being at the right place at the wrong time. At the time I remember thinking that being arrested in a foreign country would not look good on my academic record: even if it was for something banal like supporting the Korean farmers.
Upon reflection, maybe an activist-academic can be someone who attempts to link their research passions, with their politics and reflect this in their teaching (both in the style and the substance). That is, there is no point talking about the injustices of a class system that limits opportunities to education without acknowledging that there are some students who, because of work, are going to need the lecturer to be flexible even if is inconvenient to the lecturer.
So, how do we balance our activism with our life as an academic – especially one that operates within institutional boundaries? It is this question that was raised by a number of post-graduate students at University of Western Sydney in their reading group.
The issue is addressed in three separate articles from a special 2008 edition of Antipode (vol. 40, no. 3) that were distributed for discussion, which are:
- Doreen Massey, “When theory meets politics”, pp.492-97;
- Don Mitchell, “Confessions of a desk bound radical”, pp.449-54; and
- Jenny Pickerill, “The surprising sense of hope”, pp.482-88.
The three articles take a very different approach to what being an activist-academic means. Massey’s article begins with a drive in the streets of Caracas, Venezuela, as she reflects life as a ‘public intellectual.’ As Massey is driven around, she notices signs of activism and begins to consider how our work can be part of an emancipatory process.
The key thing that I really liked with this article is the way Massey concludes by noting that theory is best developed by interacting with the world around us: it is more robust and much more useful. This interaction with activism is how we can develop theory and make it better.
For Massey then, we can see academic-activism as the process of developing theoretical postulations that are based on the world around us and which are useful to those who are attempting to bring about emancipatory change.
The second article is by Don Mitchell who, as the title suggests, is struggling to reflect on his worth as an academic in progressive politics. I was a bit frustrated reading this – felt like yelling at him to ‘get over it.’ I mean, not everyone is cut out to be tear gassed, do a ‘lock on’ or read Delueze (or possibly do all three) – we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Mitchell laments, in part, the way he is stuck behind a desk but also acknowledges that there is information produced by the academic that can be used in social change and progressive politics. This conclusion is hardly surprising.
The important dimension of Mitchell’s work is that he reminds us that, just like activism, there is no ‘one way’ to be an activist-academic. Some people protest, others work in soup kitchens, others interact with activists and some are organisers themselves. Just like there are activists all over the world using different tactics, there is room for academics to work towards change using different strategies.
The third of this collection of articles is by Jenny Pickerill. This is the article that I could relate to the most, as it seems Jenny – I kind of feel like I am on a first name basis with her as a result – is actually an activist who becomes an academic. This reflects my own journey.
This article sees Jenny struggle in her move from organiser to someone now working in an institutional setting. She wonders if her research is simply sucking the intellect out of the activist community who she often feels she is taking advantage of. That is, by spending time with activists with the aim of publishing, she feels that it is more about furthering her own career rather than taking part in the process of social change.
Jenny also moves to discuss the issue of sustainability. In her journey, she figures out that her strength is writing – much like the above authors – so why spend time getting arrested on the frontline of a protest when discussing the issues faced is much more her strength (and writing is her passion).
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There are three important themes that emerge from these readings that I think are important in the journey of an activist-academic. The first is that teaching is a form of activism. This is not just teaching in the classroom setting, but the process of producing research. The question that is important is who we are teaching and writing for. I mean, we all need to publish in obscure academic journals, but why should we not turn these articles into accessible publications also – looking at various outputs including fact sheets, newspaper articles and even letters to the editor. It is with such information that activists can be armed to confront injustice.
The second theme that is important here is that we should try and limit the gap between activism and academic. The gap is a socially constructed one and we need to accept movements for change require a broad range of skills and people: is the person handing out the leaflets demanding a just system for refugees any more ‘hardcore’ than the person writing the leaflet? The answer is not necessarily so – and it may even be the same person. The divide between the two borders on irrelevant.
The process of research itself is political – and by researching and providing information academics are adding to the momentum for change. To dismiss this contribution smells of anti-intellectualism – no matter which side of the political spectrum you sit on.
The third theme is that we sometimes need to get over ourselves. I mean that, while reflexive thinking is important in this journey, it is also essential not to take our roles too seriously. We should not see ourselves as tortured artists paralysed by a fear that we are not doing the right thing, but as having an important role to play in a global process of solidarity. (For my own work, I carry around a bunch of neuroses and insecurities. I stress that it is not good enough or that I may get the representation wrong of the groups that I work with.)
As Jenny says, however, what is important is looking for the spaces of hope. These are the ones that we need to highlight and slowly link together with the belief that radical and progressive change is possible. Talking about both the issues that need to be changed and identifying the change required is part of the journey that is what being an activist-academic is all about – it is part of producing spaces for change. You just have to figure out how to follow your own journey.
