[warning: fragmented thinking]
One of the reasons I am thinking about creative (non)fiction has to do with the “rules of evidence” that are required in serious scholarship, journalism, legal cases, and history. One can argue that there is much more flexibility in scholarship, of course, especially when you are doing theoretical work. But, even (good) theoretical scholarship in the humanities has to be persuasive and at least make a case for its own significance and relevance. The “rules of evidence” I am more concerned with here are those required in legal/institutional cases.
For example, a few years ago I had a discussion with a fellow union member at another school about how a union (our union in particular) should handle cases of faculty members–union members–who act inappropriately (e.g. make sexist or racist statements in the classroom–even if that faculty member is in their 70s and “does not realize” his/her comments are problematic), or who commit ethical violations (e.g. sleep with their students). My fellow union member argued that as a union we have an obligation to defend our members as best we can. I was suggesting that while this may be true, we have to think about what the purpose of a union is. For me, the purpose of a union is to act collectively to do what is right. If a union loses this moral/ethical principle, then it ceases to contribute to progressive change. If a union does not do what is right, then it becomes part of the problem. While my fellow unionist
agreed in principle with what I was saying, he also pointed out that unions, and their representatives, also have a legal obligation to see to it that all members are given due process–especially when they are accused of wrong-doing.
What makes this rather abstract discussion relevant at the moment is that the “legal obligation” of the union in combination with an administration who failed to take decisive action, has taken a fairly clear ethical violation–a faculty member sleeping with his student(s?)–and muddied the waters to the point that the issue has not made it into the public discussion. Instead of this being treated as an issue that is immediately relevant to the health and safety of our academic community, the issue has been handled behind closed doors.
Now, if information about this issue had only circulated behind closed doors, there wouldn’t be much to discuss. However, this issue (don’t you love how I use “this issue”–referent???) got its legs first on facebook. In my case, it was students coming to me seeking advice once this issue had been posted to facebook. Given the fairly public launch of this issue into facebook, one might assume that there would be some follow-up in a public way–if only for PR purposes. But more to my point is how “this issue” directly impacts the university community. One could imagine a scenario in which “this issue” would be addressed quickly and directly in order to prevent it from poisoning the working environment or to make a clear statement to students and their parents that such behavior is not tolerated in our community.
Ethical violations such as this (yes the lack of referent once again) interfere with other faculty members’ ability to carry out their jobs (e.g. if I find out that the person who chairs a committee I work on has been sleeping with his students, his authority to lead said committee is no longer legitimate my mind–that is, his authority is seriously compromised). And, what about all the students who know about this issue and who were or who are currently in his classes? How does that a
ffect them? Or, imagine this scenario: since this issue is not officially public, no one knows exactly who knows what happened and who doesn’t. Therefore, the elephant remains in the room and people continue civil/professional conversations with someone they know has committed serious ethical violations, because they don’t know if they are supposed to know what they know. Wierd.
At this point, we are supposed to proceed as if nothing has happened. We’re supposed to act as if we don’t know what we know. And part of the problem is that many of us-who-know, do not have evidence-that-counts-as-knowledge. Most of us have taken what we do know and pieced together a general narrative about what we believe to have happened. However, barring direct access to all the documents that must be circulating behind closed doors, our belief is disallowed as an authoritative narrative. In the absense of “proof” our narratives have the status of hearsay. And, as we all know, if you act upon hearsay you are walking down a tricky road.
So, this post is already a few days old…a draft to which I’ve just now returned, attempting to write my way through and sort out lines of thought. This space a kairotic space for sure…looking for the available means and cracks in the discursive frame.
I’ve got a couple days to figure out the exact shape of my paper proposal for the Feminism and Rhetorics conference…so you can count on me returning here soon.

