Notes on Oleanna

One way we can get into Oleanna is to examine the play as a statement on the elitism in higher education (a Marxist approach will definitely deal with John and Carol as representative of different social classes and the conflict between them a result of these class decisions – John has power; Carol seeks to overturn that power, certainly. Whether she takes it or not (remember, power is always a fluid entity) is a more complicated question.

The “currency” of the academic institution is often its language, a language that is exclusory and often judged as elitist (typically involving disciplinary-specific jargon unavailable to the untrained). This is certainly true in Oleanna; we see right away that Carol calls John out for his language (ultimately, she claims John’s use of elitist language, the language of privilege and class power, is part of his exploitation of students/women). John uses sophisticated and academic language, perhaps disciplinary-specific (it would be appear he’s teaching an education class without explaining or defining terms), and Carol is allegedly unable to understand because John continues to speak to his students as though they are his colleagues. If this is actually so, the question becomes this: is John deliberately maintaining his elite status by excluding and thus alienating his students – “performing”, as he says he loves to do, and/or “exploiting his paternal prerogative? Or is he simply too self-involved to notice and connect with his students and their needs? What do you think?

In terms of language, let’s consider Carol’s. In the first act, she speaks using, let’s say, the vernacular (common, “everyday language”, repeatedly asking John to define and account for his language. Do think she really fails to understand John, or is she calling John out for using jargon by “making” him explain it? Note also that her vocabulary, at least her demonstration of her command of language, changes dramatically from Act One to Two. These two nearly reverse positions – John becomes less articulate, sputtering and sweating, as Carol becomes more so; John is visibly distraught, especially when compared to his relatively calm and poised demeanor n the first act. Carol, who is much less poised and uncertain in Act One – and much more reactive – she transforms into the powerfully articulate one as the plot progresses, unshaken by John’s increasingly erratic and angry behavior. If language is power (or one’s access to and mastery of it is), what does this “reversal” suggest?

Next, consider the following statement, which John makes: “We can only interpret the actions of others through the screen we create.” John here admits that people can only understand others only through their own filter – that is, can understand only through their own worldview (and, for the Marxist, of course, this worldview is developed by and comprised entirely of the individual’s social and economic position). Thus John can only understand Carol, a seemingly disturbed, younger, less educated, less articulate, less socially valued and less wealthy woman through his “screen” (worldview). His screen is created through his experiences as an elite white male in a position of power and prestige. While John admits this early on, later, it becomes evident that both John AND Carol cannot see beyond their own “screens” and this lack of understanding, on both parts, has dire consequences. Is there any way for two vastly different people, like John and Carol, to relate to or understand one another? Or are their “god-given” positions destined to alienate them from one another forever?

Consider John’s musings nearer the end of Act One, when he tells Carol, “You don’t have to take notes. I’m just telling you some things that I think.” . . . “Is it a law that I have to improve the city’s schools at the expense of my own interest . . . and is this not a case of “the white man’s burden”? What John is essentially asking here is why he has to suffer economically to better reality for those less fortunate than he. Why, if he is willing and able to send his son to (and pay for) private school,  must he contribute to the public school system (seemingly the place for the “have nots” here)? What John is really saying is that he finds it unfair that he has to sacrifice individually for the greater public good. He’s also made it a racist statement by suggesting that the “white” “man” is by nature the one sacrificing for everyone else. Inherent in this belief is the slightly veiled belief that he has “achieved” his economic position through hard work – thus his ability to choose private school – and that others could, too . . . but choose not to. In this sense, John ignores/fails to realize that his position and economic power are at least partly due to arbitrary circumstances rather than his efforts, talent, or intelligence (the family into which he was born, environment in which he was raised – socioeconomically, educationally, etc – the nature of experiences to which he was exposed). In other words, he and Carol very likely did not begin life with the same opportunities. Carol, on the other hand, seems to clearly understand John’s “good fortune” and privilege as, perhaps, sheer luck, that he was fortunate enough to be born male and white (and very likely into a higher-class family than her own). She points out that she had to transcend “economic and sexual prejudices” that she “prays you and those you love” will never have to endure. Somehow, it seems obvious that John hasn’t been privy to such prejudices himself. It is largely thought that Carol is a “scholarship” student while John probably attended an Ivy League or similar institution, and probably not on a scholarship. This may or may not be true, of course. What do you think? The play asks us to consider the idea of “equal opportunity” (as in, we all have it here in America).

Back to the “white man’s burden” for a moment. Ultimately, by connecting his belief that it is unfair that he has to sacrifice individually for the greater good with the phrase “white man’s burden”, he’s really saying, that economic sacrifice has been forced upon the “white man”, who is thus at least partly responsible for taking care of the “others” – largely minorities. Carol believes John’s use of the phrase is both classist and racist, but perhaps even more importantly . . .  it goes unexamined. A big part of Carol’s beef with John is that he doesn’t examine his own thinking or consider others’ viewpoints – he doesn’t even begin to think using such a phrase might be ill-advised and/or offensive . . . because he is so confident and settled in his position of power and prestige that there’s no reason he should have to think about anything from the point of view of the “have nots”.  This, specifically, is what Carol balks at most. IS this phrase classist and/or racist? Does it offend YOU? Why or why not?

Lastly, consider John’s proposition and reasoning regarding Carol’s grade: he understands her concern – he offers her an “A” in exchange for her time – time in which he hopes to “awaken her interest and answer her questions”, he says. Of course, it’s important that he offers this to Carol alone and in a private space – a space that is his turf, symbolic of his position (it is very likely that he is far more comfortable engaging in this space than she is).  Is this offer a genuine though perhaps misguided one, truly intended to help Carol? Do consider how it might be helpful to award a grade not for mastery of a skill, nor performance, but for effort alone. Keep in mind that college grades are not “given” but earned and are nearly always based on performance and product, not effort. A student in English 201, for example, might earn an A on a paper for its innovativeness, depth, and solid writing but will not earn an A for a paper toward which he/she expended a great deal of effort but that offers only surface-level, obvious analysis and messy/laborious/awkward/unclear writing.)

 What, then, is John really offering Carol, and is it useful? To whom? John certainly appears to enjoy his performance as he ignores the phone – “Let it ring!” – and tells Carol that he “says it’s fine” to start over, that “[they] won’t tell anybody”, and that “her final grade is an A.” One reading: John is not genuine (though he may think he’s being so) but is instead offering this deal to Carol because he enjoys the thought of seeing himself in the role of hero “rescuing” damsel-in-distress Carol from her stupidity, lack of understanding, poor self esteem. Basically, he enjoys holding a captive audience responsible for taking in and understanding his ideas and beliefs (he uses one of his own books as a textbook, a controversial practice), thus engaging in self-glorification and edification as well as posturing. Perhaps this offer is intended to make John feel good, and Carol is simply the conduit. And it’s entirely possible that he is consciously unaware of his “true” motivation (something that would be very important to the psychoanalytic critic AND another example of what Carol is most offended by – that John has so wholly eaten and digested power and prestige, and is so secure in it, that he doesn’t even recognize where his motivations and actions are guided by self-interest and ego rather than selflessness and humility.

So which is it – benevolent, sensitive, radical educator, capable of and willing to subvert the dominant paradigm (the exchange of good grades for excellent work, the securing of a grade at semester’s end, not middle) when it opens the door for a student in a creative way? Or, is he a pedantic, selfish, unaware egoist whose teaching is a largely a performance of his own ideas and values, ones he forces on others by choosing to teach his own book? (Consider also that John, by doing so, is clearly a symbol of the bourgeoisie, deciding which ideas and values the proletariat (students) have access to and telling them what they should think about these ideas and values).

At this point, what is your largest concern as a Marxist critic, and what is the play “about” when you adopt a Marxist framework? Sexual harassment? Political correctness? The power of language? Social class conflicts? The failures of higher education? The system of idea exchange in the classroom/institution/country? Gender relations as linked to social class? Economic betterment? Self-awareness (or a lack thereof?). Capitalism’s failures? Classroom dynamics? Poor teaching? The “right” to higher education over its usefulness? (John mentions this, intending to suggest that people are so invested in the idea of their “right” to higher education that they forget or fail to take into account whether it is useful . . . and whether they are college “material” in the first place. Should anyone have the right to go to college? What is done/should be done about students who try but do not have the intellectual or other capacities to succeed? Does college develop these capacities enough to make a successful student out of anyone? Or, are there some people who just “shouldn’t” go to college because they simply cannot/will not succeed? (This, of course, is quite the controversial subject, and it’s clear that John, at least, does not think everyone should go to school. As he says, “we’ve confounded the ‘right’ to education with its usefulness . . .”).

***Obviously, I’m playing a bit of the devil’s advocate here – it’s so easy to immediately hate Carol and dismiss her critiques of John because of why she seems to do it. Her heinous actions don’t necessarily discount the quality of her critique, though. Thus, I tried to explore some points that aren’t the most obvious choices.