As a ‘woke’ professor, I had three questions for my students about Charlie Kirk | Opinion

I’m one of the college professors that Charlie Kirk’s Turning Point USA deemed “radical” and said allegedly “discriminate against conservative students and advance leftish propaganda in the classroom.” Promoted by Kirk since 2016, “Professor Watchlist” has targeted hundreds of professors around the country, disproportionately Black professors.

I can’t say with certainty, but I strongly suspect some of the most serious death threats I’ve received in recent years were a result of my inclusion on the “Professor Watchlist” — all for the sin of disagreeing in public comments with Kirk and his supporters.

On Sept. 11, the day after Kirk was shot and killed, I knew this — and much more — walking into class to lead a sober discussion about Kirk’s assassination while keeping the class focused on the task at hand, which is to learn no matter the circumstances or distractions.

I knew lying about Kirk would have been just as wrong as lying for him. So I did what I know often works during emotionally-charged lessons. I dialed back the teaching and dialed up the guiding. Students were already eager to learn.

I revamped the lesson.

Before Kirk was killed at a speaking event on a Utah college campus, I had planned to have students analyze one of his debates (among others) for my Debate & Deliberation course at Davidson College.

After his death, I opened up the room to any student who wanted to speak about what had happened, no thoughts or feelings off limits. That’s always a tenuous teaching technique, given that I don’t know in advance where students might take it. But that’s where the guidance comes in. When a student veers off course, I gently remind them to focus on the subject at hand.

I knew from an anonymous census this semester that the class was ideologically mixed, nearly evenly split between Democrats, Republicans and independents. (Data in prior years has shown the student body overall to be about 15% conservative.) There would be no need to play devil’s advocate to fill a void. I allowed other interested students to join the discussion.

Students expressed anger about the shooting and about Kirk’s legacy. Some said it added to a growing sense of dread because they were already trying to grapple with the much-publicized stabbing on Charlotte’s light rail service. Kirk’s insistence that even 10-year-old rape victims should be forced to carry their pregnancy to term angered some, while others said his ability to think critically and encourage young people to vote were laudable.

I allowed them to go on for much of the class before asking them to take a breath and spend a little time finding the worst things Kirk had ever said or done. I made a list of those things on the whiteboard before asking a simple question: “Does anything on the board justify murder?”

“No,” every student responded immediately, and in unison.

“Good,” I said.

“Should anything on the board be illegal to say?” I asked.

Again, every student, including those at odds with Kirk’s political and ideological leanings, immediately and in unison responded, “No.”

That set the stage for where I really wanted to take them.

“Could anything on the board lead to harm or be considered offensive?” I asked.

Each student, including Kirk’s ardent supporters, immediately and in unison responded, “Yes.”

From there, we were able to have a probing discussion about the power and importance of freedom of expression, even the kind we don’t like — especially the kind we don’t like.

It’s a bedrock of the types of debates and deliberations we have been studying and will be participating in, and it’s indispensable in a democracy that wants to remain healthy.

I did not pretend that an embrace of free expression would be consequence-free, though.

While words should never be considered violence, they can demean and demonize and leave lasting effects on us all, particularly the powerless and most vulnerable. They can even contribute to an environment in which those with whom we passionately disagree come to be seen as enemies rather than fellow children of God. Just look at the White House.

Vice President JD Vance credits Charlie Kirk with advancing his career, helping him win the Senate seat that catapulted him into the vice presidency. Vance also believes that I’m a clear and present danger to the United States of America, given his comment that “there was a wisdom in what Richard Nixon said approximately 40, 50 years ago, the professors are the enemy.”

“Because I think if any of us want to do the things that we want to do for our country and for the people who live in it, we have to honestly and aggressively attack the universities in this country,” Vance declared in 2021.

Kirk was also a major supporter of President Donald Trump, who has spent most of his political career unleashing rhetoric that has made the country worse and more dangerous for his opponents.

Walking into class on Thursday, I had heard such rhetoric from Kirk.

He spouted antisemitic tropes after the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas terror attack on Israel, saying Jewish donors to universities were “subsidizing your own demise by supporting institutions that breed Anti-Semites and endorse genocidal killers.”

He claimed the death toll “would not have been as high” in July’s Texas flooding “if it wasn’t for” DEI, ludicrously blaming a Black fire chief in Austin, which isn’t even located in the county where the worst flooding occurred.

After Paul Pelosi, husband of former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, had his skull bashed in by a crazed intruder, Kirk urged his supporters to bail out the attacker. He was also prominent among those pushing the lie that the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump, a lie that led thousands of Americans to violently storm the Capitol Building.

To his supporters, Kirk’s words were like manna from Heaven.

They believe he was telling important, if uncomfortable, truths about the society in which we live. It’s why U.S. Rep. Nancy Mace and others tried unsuccessfully for Kirk’s wake to happen at the Capitol Rotunda, an honor largely reserved for former presidents and American giants.

They’ve also been foolishly and recklessly turning his assassination into another reason to inflame partisan fires that have already been running too hot.

To those on the wrong end of Kirk’s barbs, his words were like acid-tipped spears being jammed into their sides. And it hurt every time he’s been praised the past couple of days as an important voice that should be emulated.

In other words, it makes sense to debate his life’s legacy and the ramifications of his death — with words, not bullets.

That’s why I’ve been disheartened by reports about people being fired for negative comments about Kirk, for not showing sympathy for him, or even for expressing joy.

Kirk was not the free expression stalwart his fans have been making him out to be. He’s made my life more difficult. But his assassination was wrong. Full stop. No one should derive pleasure from it, and I think it was ill-advised for anyone to publicly express joy at someone’s demise.

Yet it was wrong to fire or suspend people for speaking freely. Those decisions should be reversed. And schools, businesses and organizations must resist the growing pressure to punish people because they say things that make others uncomfortable.

Because the power of embracing free expression, even during a moment as tense as this — especially during a moment as tense as this — is that it becomes an unmistakable reminder that it’s better to hash out our differences with our mouths than with fists or guns.

My students got the message. The rest of us need to heed it as well.

This is the second column in the occasional series “Tales from a woke professor” by Issac J. Bailey. Read the first.

Issac J. Bailey is a McClatchy opinion writer in North Carolina and South Carolina.