To find writing from an academic that flows in such a way is always telling of a person trying to be a person and to COMMUNICATE. I appreciate that congruency in Cathy Davidson’s book. I don’t think there is any other way to deliver this information, nor I think there was any other way for her to arrive at those findings/interpretations if it wasn’t with herself in the forefront (as a person – dying).

At some point, particularly during the first 50 or so pages (before Davidson started talking about community colleges), I thought the book wasn’t critical enough, I was craving a stronger voice. That started to change rapidly. As I read through the chapter of community colleges, my heartbeat started to race, I was being moved by hope.

Throughout the book, Davidson’s voice is never accusing, and in that, it filters deep within oneself. Robinson’s radicalness lies not only in the content of the book, but in her subtle voice, in her knowing that there is no convincing to do – being able to say: we have failed you, and  WE ALL KNOW THAT. She includes herself in that statement, and I believe her wholeheartedly.

I am grateful for having read this because, as a graduate student thinking about my future, I’m more and more drawn to public education (either here or in Mexico). Private education, in my case, will not allow me to be, to be whole, moving towards a purpose beyond myself.

 

En el capítulo seis, una JOYA:

“Do you remember what you said to us last night, before surgery? How you talked about the tuition debt we all carry?”

I didn’t.

“You told us how sorry you were that we had $250,000 in debt. You said that was the average for medical school and it was a national crisis.”

As I read this, my entire body exploded in applause. Davidson says these words in her deathbed.

This deserves nothing less than a standing ovation from the soul.

 

“How can I not worry about you? You saved my life. You will save many, many lives. And we have failed you.”

 

We die, as we live, I’ve always believed.

If this is what committed pedagogy looks like, then I will settle for nothing else,

I demand nothing less.

I’m glad Cathy N. Davidson is alive.