Democratizing theological studies?

This weekend, I spent some time reading Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza's Democratizing Biblical Studies: Toward an Emancipatory Educational Space (WJK, 2009). And I should start with two disclaimers: first, I haven't finished the book yet -- I've worked my way through the theoretical sections, but I won't get to the final (pedagogical) chapter until this coming weekend. Second, I have a ton of respect for Schüssler Fiorenza, particularly for the significance her ideas and publications have played in feminist theological studies. But I was surprised by my own reaction as I read the early chapters of this book; namely, that I alternated between being bored and being troubled by her notion of "democracy" as a key value for education in biblical studies (both as a paradigm itself -- one which focuses on equality, freedom, and the well-being of all creation as we engage the study of texts -- and also as a marker for the plurality [or "republic," to use her term] of interpretive paradigms for biblical studies, which, for her, all have equal footing).

I'm aware that I could attribute my reaction to my own former and current academic homes (so that what she proposes as "new" for some places in theological education may already be familiar in my settings), or to my own discipline (contextual theology vs. biblical studies), or just to the way I'm wired. None of which are particularly interesting topics for this blog, I'm sure. And I also recognize that I could be misreading her work, particularly since I haven't even finished the book yet. But since we're in the world of blogs, and not academic book reviews (thanks, Glenn!), I'll post my preliminary thoughts here.

I was really fascinated by her subtitle: "toward an emancipatory educational space" -- that's why I brought this book home with me. But, after reading the first 125 pages, I'm not convinced -- I can't help but wonder about the relationship between democracy and emancipatory space, and whether democracy in the classroom is really something we want to aim for, particularly as we imagine new possibilities and potentialities for graduate theological education. At the most basic level, I hate to imagine learning or intellectual exploration or deconstruction/reconstruction to be processes that demand an appeal to the a common denominator (or experience, or value, or social location, etc.). But more than this, I think I'm seeking a more complex descriptor or image for the fantastic interplay of power, ideas, energy, goals, questions, struggle, engagement, chaos, and unsettledness that emerge in a lively classroom (or, in any real relationship, imho).

This became concrete for me today as I found myself in a situation where I was reminded that I do not yet have tenure. This serves as one out of hundreds of other examples that the classroom (as currently constructed) is by no means a democratic (or "equal" and "free") space. Students have power over me, I have power over them, they have power over each other -- and this power shifts and changes with situation and time. Some of this is embedded in formal status, roles, and title (e.g., tenure); some comes from perceived expertise, life experience, personality, social conditioning, or markers of privilege. Negotiating power (including my own) is much of what I do when I teach. So, for example, I spend a lot of energy and am invested in dismantling my own status as the "expert" in the classroom, at least in some moments, but I try not to do that in ways that abandon my responsibilities to my students, to my institution, to my subject matter, and to myself. But negotiating power, to me, seems very different from trying to create a level playing field or even everything out. Imagining that we might all peacefully and equally co-exist in a classroom space, or that our learning can somehow be based in our commonality (rather than, or in spite of, our differences), without this sort of active attention to power and other potentially dangerous and painful negotiations -- these images frighten me, and seem like they would steal energy away from the authentic possibility space of teaching and learning.

And so I'm left wondering -- what is it that creates emancipatory educational spaces? Am I reading too much (or too little) into this image of equality? And if we reject democracy and equality as our model, are we worse off than if we strive for it?