In 2007, Richard Ryskamp and the American Family Association complained that Professor Jim Hayes had shown American Beauty (1999), an R rated movie, in his composition class at Grand Rapids Community College.  Ryskamp learned of this assignment because he was a family friend of one of Professor Hayes’ students; a student who was given an alternative assignment because she objected to watching the film.

Yesterday, at the 2013 Liberal Arts Network for Development conference, Professor Hayes presented a session on “Academic Freedom:  One Instructor’s Journey” in which he recounted his story of being the subject of a complaint that was covered in the Grand Rapids Press.  Several months later, the issue returned when several letters to the editor argued for a “no” vote on Grand Rapids Community College’s millage request because the college had backed a professor who showed “pornography” in his classes.

Academic Freedom protected Professor Hayes’ right to show American Beauty in his class and the college was right to back him again the complaint.  But to simply claim Academic Freedom as justification for what we teach is insufficient.  While Academic Freedom does give us the freedom to teach what we desire, we need to realize that freedom comes with responsibilities and we must consider our choices in terms of our students’ learning.  For example, I once heard someone complain that the dean was infringing on his academic freedom by asking that he swear less while teaching.  I am not convinced that Academic Freedom was designed to protect us from lacing our lectures with expletives.

In Professor Hayes’ case, the textbook he used included essays and reviews concerning American Beauty.  The film was chosen because there was a direct relationship between it, the textbook, and other course content.  Although portions of the film are disturbing, students benefited from watching it.

Academic Freedom does protect us—as it did Professor Hayes’ choice to show American Beauty—because we can demonstrate how students benefit from our choices.  However, does Academic Freedom protect our students’ choices, too?

Several years ago, a student asked if Phone Sex Granny was an appropriate film on which to write her film analysis.  Shot in documentary style, this short film follows a day in the life of a phone sex operator as she talks dirty to men calling a phone sex line.  Were short films rated, the language in this film would earn it an X rating.  Yet, it met the requirements for the assignment and could serve as the basis of a film analysis.  The student decided not to analyze Phone Sex Granny, but I would have defended her right to do so.  Like me and Professor Hayes, Academic Freedom applies to her research and class choices as well as it does ours.

Several years ago, I attended a presentation by someone whom I know would claim to be a staunch supporter of Academic Freedom.  During her presentation, she cited a female student in one of her classes who was involved in a BDSM relationship; a relationship in which the student was the submissive.  My colleague found such a relationship to be—by definition—abusive.  She argued that part of her job was to demonstrate to the student the error in her thinking and would not accept papers on the rewarding nature of being involved in BDSM.

As a believer in Academic Freedom, I would take a different approach than my colleague did in working with a student writing about BDSM relationships.  If my student wanted to write about her involvement about such a relationship, my job is to help her construct solid arguments with quality examples.  If such relationships are inherently abusive, the student will discover that as part of the research and writing process.  But, regardless of my view on the subject, she should have the right to pursue her research interest and construct solid arguments that might go against her professor’s point of view.

I am currently involved in an Academic Freedom issue that involves student choices in my film class.  A student whose team is responsible for teaching one section of the course proposed that we screen Dante’s Inferno:  An Animated Epic (2010).  Pedagogically, his proposal is very solid and consistent with the objectives of the course and his team’s responsibilities.

After reviewing the film, one of his team mates contacted me because he did not believe that the film was appropriate for class.  When I asked him why, he responded, “Animated nudity, gore, foul language throughout.  And extremist religious views with the occasional evil demon baby.  Not to sound weird, by I’m pretty sure a lady’s vagina turns into a giant spike.”  I coached the student on how to convince his team not to show the film in class.  As part of this coaching, we discussed other films such as the 1911 L’inferno or some other version of the film that might be used instead of Dante’s Inferno (2010).

Another student in the class, after hearing his colleague’s objection, approached me because he thinks the film is appropriate.  Because his reasoning for screening the film are very solid, I coached him on how to present his case to his team the following day.  We also discussed ways to introduce the film or alternative assignments if it were shown.

Because I was attending the LAND Conference at the time this team was meeting to consider their options, I am not yet privileged to know the details of their discussions and am not aware if they made the decision to screen Dante’s Inferno.

I would not choose to screen Dante’s Inferno:  An Animated Epic.  I have the power to forbid the students from showing Dante’s Inferno:  An Animated Epic.  I know that I will be uncomfortable viewing Dante’s Inferno:  An Animated Epic.  But, more importantly, I firmly believe in Academic Freedom.

If I maintain that I have the right to present any quality lesson in class, I will defend my students’ right to screen Dante’s Inferno:  An Animated Epic because it is well integrated into a lesson that will advance the core competences and core abilities of the film course in which they are enrolled.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD