Acknowledging a Pluralist Morality
If varying levels of ‘safe’ assignments were not available to the students, Bea may have not had the chance to explore historical empathy with that same emotional commitment [See Artifact 9: WWI Letter, Reflection]. Reading the work of students’ that flourished in the ‘safer’ writing assignments contributed to my own evolving understanding and definition of ‘historical empathy’. In addition to the theoretical definition of the academic concept, I also considered the traditional associations and meanings of the word empathy beyond the criteria by Downy. Particularly towards the end of my student teaching, I was unable to define or articulate the connection between respect and historical empathy within my established method of analysis.
In my Aquinas Analysis, I compared two students, one who I believed connected with the task in a meaningful way and one who may have only partially committed to the task. Mitchell received neutral ratings on empathy because it was difficult for me to determine whether he really considered Aquinas’s perspective and his outlook. Adopting someone else’s outlook requires a certain level of respect for the role and the circumstances. I did not see it in his work. He correctly filled in the gaps, which required some level of understanding of Aquinas’s perspective, but he did not show any kind of true connection to the task. This is difficult concept for me to articulate. However, analyzing Mitchell’s answers has highlighted an issue for me; should I expect my students to adopt these roles and maintain a certain level of respect for the historical actors? I have difficulty defining what this concept of respect means in historical empathy and imagination. Although, I can at least recognize that I do not see it in Mitchell’s answers. [See Artifact 7: Aquinas Class Work, Student Sample Analysis]
In contrast, Ariel’s work did reflect some level of commitment to empathy and respect for the historical actor. This greater understanding of empathy requires some level of emotional commitment. As I mentioned earlier, Foster’s recognition of this feeling was important to my own understanding, “finally, historical empathy requires a respect for, an appreciation of, and sensitivity toward, the complexity of human action and achievement” (Foster, 2009, p.g 19)
But Foster restrains himself; he argues that students are asked to only comprehend, not to sympathize with the plight of a historical actor such as Neville Chamberlain (Foster, 2009). Unlike many scholars, I would argue that students should attempt to understand what it ‘felt’ like to be in the role of this historical actor, and others that seem equally alien. Human action is complex, I do not know if we can truly separate understanding and feeling. Understanding Chamberlain requires some level of ‘feeling what he felt’, knowing his prejudices and fears. If a student can feel the historical actor’s perspective, that are, in a small way, sympathizing.
To some, it is bold to suggest that students should attempt to feel what others felt. But asking students to empathize, or even sympathize, with a historical actor is not asking them to justify that historical actor’s choices or actions. Instead it is asking them to participate in a civic and moral action.
There is clear scholarship that argues for morality in the social studies classroom. The conflict with morality education is choosing whose morals. But I agree with Walsh’s advocacy of morality in a ‘pluralist society’.
In pluralist societies history writing will be better for taking account of the pluralism of contemporary values, laying special emphasis on the values that are shared, being explicit about the relevant more ‘personal’ values, and so forth – in other words, for adopting the manners of procedures of everyday ethical discourse in this kind of society. (as cited in Peterson, 2011)
For me, one of the greater shared values of a pluralist society is tolerance and empathy. We need to practice the ability to both understand our own perspective and respect others’ viewpoints, especially those who seem so unlike ourselves. Understanding historical actors living in vastly different contexts can help contribute to this larger goal of pluralist morality education.
In my Aquinas Analysis, I compared two students, one who I believed connected with the task in a meaningful way and one who may have only partially committed to the task. Mitchell received neutral ratings on empathy because it was difficult for me to determine whether he really considered Aquinas’s perspective and his outlook. Adopting someone else’s outlook requires a certain level of respect for the role and the circumstances. I did not see it in his work. He correctly filled in the gaps, which required some level of understanding of Aquinas’s perspective, but he did not show any kind of true connection to the task. This is difficult concept for me to articulate. However, analyzing Mitchell’s answers has highlighted an issue for me; should I expect my students to adopt these roles and maintain a certain level of respect for the historical actors? I have difficulty defining what this concept of respect means in historical empathy and imagination. Although, I can at least recognize that I do not see it in Mitchell’s answers. [See Artifact 7: Aquinas Class Work, Student Sample Analysis]
In contrast, Ariel’s work did reflect some level of commitment to empathy and respect for the historical actor. This greater understanding of empathy requires some level of emotional commitment. As I mentioned earlier, Foster’s recognition of this feeling was important to my own understanding, “finally, historical empathy requires a respect for, an appreciation of, and sensitivity toward, the complexity of human action and achievement” (Foster, 2009, p.g 19)
But Foster restrains himself; he argues that students are asked to only comprehend, not to sympathize with the plight of a historical actor such as Neville Chamberlain (Foster, 2009). Unlike many scholars, I would argue that students should attempt to understand what it ‘felt’ like to be in the role of this historical actor, and others that seem equally alien. Human action is complex, I do not know if we can truly separate understanding and feeling. Understanding Chamberlain requires some level of ‘feeling what he felt’, knowing his prejudices and fears. If a student can feel the historical actor’s perspective, that are, in a small way, sympathizing.
To some, it is bold to suggest that students should attempt to feel what others felt. But asking students to empathize, or even sympathize, with a historical actor is not asking them to justify that historical actor’s choices or actions. Instead it is asking them to participate in a civic and moral action.
There is clear scholarship that argues for morality in the social studies classroom. The conflict with morality education is choosing whose morals. But I agree with Walsh’s advocacy of morality in a ‘pluralist society’.
In pluralist societies history writing will be better for taking account of the pluralism of contemporary values, laying special emphasis on the values that are shared, being explicit about the relevant more ‘personal’ values, and so forth – in other words, for adopting the manners of procedures of everyday ethical discourse in this kind of society. (as cited in Peterson, 2011)
For me, one of the greater shared values of a pluralist society is tolerance and empathy. We need to practice the ability to both understand our own perspective and respect others’ viewpoints, especially those who seem so unlike ourselves. Understanding historical actors living in vastly different contexts can help contribute to this larger goal of pluralist morality education.