Why I DON’T (or should not) teach PolS 356, Part II
From my appearance, students in 356 initially perceive me as a male professor, and secondly, as a Black professor. On the first or second day, I always try to “sneak in” that I am a cis gender straight male. Whether relevant to the conversation at the moment or not, I want students to have this information before they decide to keep the class.
As you are now aware, I created this class, and I am the only professor in the Department who has ever taught it. Because many of my students have already taken several courses with me, I hope that those prior experiences suggest that I am an ally. Despite this advantage, my presence in this space (PolS 356) poses several problems. As a male professor, I face distinct dilemmas and advantages in teaching about gender inequality from a position of male privilege.
1. My academic credibility is an advantage. I have been teaching con law for 36 years. I have a PhD from Washington University—St. Louis, a top PhD program in the country, and a Post Doc from Stanford University. I have decades of rigorous academic study, research, publication, and expertise. My teaching evaluations are consistently among the highest in the Department, and I have won every teaching award available. I created this class, and I am the only professor in the Department who has ever taught it. However, despite my academic training, my presence in this space (PolS 356) poses several problems.
2. I lack the lived experience that is crucial to teaching 356 effectively. PolS 356 explores systemic oppression and social justice issues in the context of constitutional law. As a male scholar, I have mastered the theory, jurisprudence, doctrine, and law, but I lack the personal experience of living as a woman in a patriarchal society. My total and complete lack of experience limits my ability to connect with certain aspects of PolS 356 fully. I am “teaching what I am not.” Furthermore, because much of WGS rests on the premise that personal experience is the basis of feminist pedagogy, I am aware that some may feel that ‘‘only those who have experienced gender oppression have the knowledge and right to speak about it (Storrs and Mihelich 1998, 103). In short, I have no street cred.
3. Teaching PolS 356, as a man, creates a bizarre, complex classroom dynamic. For some, there is great unease when a man stands up in front of a WGS classroom. For example, because gender inequalities that benefit men are pervasive in academic employment, WGS has been one of the few academic spaces devoted to women’s advancement and offers processes of academic mentoring and support for female faculty. Some might be pissed that I am taking some of that space.
4. Male teachers are often assumed to be more objective and unbiased than women in relation to teaching GWS courses. Because I am male, I am sometimes “graded up”—evaluated by male students as less biased. I am acutely aware of this because I have fought against these similar assumptions—about race–in my 358 class for a lifetime. “Blacks can’t teach or write about race objectively because they are biased.” I am sure that is what some students assume in my PolS 358. These assumptions are at play in 356, but in reverse.
5. It is problematic for men to teach about gendered oppression and marginality from a position of perceived and actual privilege. Teaching from privilege can reinscribe conventional, sexist hierarchies. For some, maybe the fact that I am Black reduces that perceived privilege a little, but I still operate with male privilege.
6. Race and Gender are the two subfields of constitutional law that interest me the most. As soon as I finish my book for 358, I plan to write a book for 356 with a heavy emphasis on Black and Brown women. In 356, I strive to employ a pedagogical approach that fosters a respectful and inclusive learning environment that acknowledges diverse perspectives and experiences. There are days when I will make mistakes; hopefully, we will learn together.
7. Oh, and also, for the last 36 years, I am all you’ve got.
Reading this made me appreciate how self-aware Professor Lyles is about his position and the limitations that come with it. I think it’s important that he acknowledges the difference between academic knowledge and lived experience, because that honestly changes how a class like this is received. At the same time, I don’t think his identity takes away from the value of the course—it just adds another layer that we all have to think critically about.
No amount of theory, credentials, or good intentions can fully replace lived experience. Patriarchy is not just something we read about; it’s something many of us experience every day in classrooms, workplaces, and personal relationships. Even when a male professor is informed and well-intentioned, it can still feel frustrating when women’s pain and resistance are filtered through a male voice. At the same time, I don’t think the answer is that men shouldn’t teach courses like 356. If only women taught about gender oppression, it would turn inequality into a “women’s issue” instead of a structural problem that men, especially those with power, also need to confront. Your role does create a complicated classroom dynamic, but it can also show what it looks like for someone with privilege to take responsibility rather than step away.
As a woman in this class, I don’t need my professor to share my experiences, but I do need them to take those experiences seriously, make space for them, and push back against the biases that automatically give their voice more authority than mine. So the question is not whether you should teach PolS 356, but how the class can remain a space where women’s voices are centered, challenged, and protected even when the professor is a man. Being “all we’ve got” makes that responsibility heavier, but it also makes this kind of reflection necessary.
This is my fourth class with you for a reason. You go, Professor Lyles!
When I first registered for PolS 356 I was concerned about how a male professor could fully understand women’s struggles. However, hearing your self-reflection and passion to gender and constitutional law shifted my perspective. Your awareness of privilege and dedication to centering marginalized voices make you exceptionally qualified to teach this course.
I also don’t have an issue with you teaching 356 but I also believe that I’m skewed because I’ve taken your course before and am familiar with your ideologies and how you think. You take proactive measures to ensure that your students feel comfortable and are given a space to speak freely while recognizing the privilege you hold. I think you are the best person to teach this course.
I don’t see an issue with you teaching POLS 356. I have had teachers who spend a day or two on this topic and its nice to learn more about it through a constitutional lens from a professor who’s honest about who they are.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I signed up for this class. Like many of my classmates, I wasn’t sure what to expect when taking a class about women and constitutional law being taught by a man. I was hopeful though, given how often I had heard classmates of mine speak positively of you. I think that you acknowledging this in our first class was really important, and I feel like it encourages me to trust the lectures and engage with the material.
I don’t see an issue with you teaching this class and I also appreciate how honest you are when bringing these conversations up. I feel like you talk about and teach each topic thoroughly and to be honest, I have learned more about these topic in 3 weeks than in my entire life.
Coming into this class, I was wary. Throughout my life, I have had men “mansplain” feminism to me multiple times. Because of this, I have always had a barrier up whenever taking any kind of advice from men in general, as most of the time it always felt like I was being talked down to (including some male educators). However, I signed up for this class as a personal challenge to myself. I do not define myself as a “man hater,” I am not a misandrist, and I do not think less of men. But I also think it is important to ask the right questions, as I have found that men, whether consciously or subconsciously, will always have some sort of patriarchal idea of women. Simply because that is the environment that we, as people in the United States, have grown up in. The reason I asked why you teach this class on the first day was not to be combative or rude (though I know it is impossible for everyone in the class to have seen my question in the same way I did), I have been called both of those things as a hispanic women and have chosen not to care whether people will consider me either of them. My grandmother studied here many years ago and mentioned a women’s department, so my preconceived notion of a man teaching women’s studies was that he must think highly of himself. I decided that, instead of assuming, as many men do toward women, I would ask. As I am sure many of the other people who were first taking this class had the same question. Through these first three weeks, I have quickly realized that you, as a professor, are not only incredibly educated (the number of times I have checked my own privilege in this class is very eye-opening) but also very self-aware. I have learned so many things about women through culture and history that I never knew, and I am incredibly thankful to you for creating and continuing to teach this class.
I don’t really see an issue with you teaching POLS 356. You’re upfront about who you are, you acknowledge your limits, and you don’t pretend to speak from experiences you don’t have. That honesty actually makes the class stronger. Most importantly you have the credentials, and you have the experience that comes with teaching this course for so many years.
When I joined this class, I did not know what I was in for, and I honestly chose it because I knew it was a constitutional law course required for my major. On the first day, you prepared a text for us that resonated deeply with me. The story about the surgeon mom. Reading this post helped me understand why that framing mattered so much. Your presence as a male teaching this course does not detract from the exposure of how authority works in the academy. I think, as a matter of fact, it means a lot in solidarity. The honesty you showcase makes it feel more real, not performative. The truth of the matter is that when male professors are often assumed to be more objective, even in courses about women’s oppression, it says more about the system than about who is credible enough to be teaching 356.
Personally, I don’t see a problem with you teaching this course. If anything, it is shocking to see how you had to stand up for this course instead of a woman. Acknowledging that you’re a male and don’t have experience being a woman makes it clear that you’re not speaking over women, but rather using your position to expand conversations that often get ignored.
Being open to criticism is a very good reason as to why you are able to teach this course. You are aware of potential biases and lack of the perspective that women have in “a patriarchal society.” However, even a female professor could be averse to hearing the critiques that you welcome. Teaching this course because no one would, and feeling passionate about the subject area is important to ensuring we get the bets out of this class. And it is what you have.
I don’t see a problem with you teaching the subject. I appreciate your honesty and do think it is important to address the fact that you are a male teaching a women’s law course. I have had the opportunity to get to know you a little over the past three weeks, and I feel like you are someone who would use his male privilege to further the expanse of this study, rather than dock on the female privilege. The way you address the injustices of women (and all races in 358) make the fight for equality something that everyone can help fight for, not just those who belong to the minority group. Honestly, I am a little excited to see an unlimited perspective of women’s study, as women in the field are often limited due to their “bias” or lower expectations of the gender.
I don’t see an issue with it, although, mind you, I am a male. In my opinion, as long as someone is educated on the topic, it shouldn’t matter whether of gender, race, or whether you have experienced something like a patriarchal system or not. While, realistically, it could have benefits in experiencing it and sharing the experience, it’s simply not necessary.
I appreciate your honesty in discussing the challenges and benefits of teaching POLS 356 as a male professor, especially in relation to gender inequality. It’s inspiring that, even without the experience of being a woman, you are committed to fostering a respectful and inclusive space for different viewpoints. This shows your dedication to addressing the gaps in understanding women’s experiences in society. Your approach makes me realize that supporting women’s inclusion isn’t just a fight for women; it’s a cause that everyone, regardless of gender, can and should stand behind.
I appreciate the fact that you are very mindful of the pros and cons of you teaching this pols 356 class. Personally, I feel that it would be one thing if u never weighed these things at all while doing this class, it would be a red flag for me, however your willingness to openly acknowledge everything suggests that you are more than qualified to teach this class. Yes you do not have experience as a woman, but you express and have express the willingness to try to learn and empathize with those who do have experience, and that is what matters most.
I appreciate you acknowledging your privileges as a male professor teaching a GWS class. You make very valid points about women’s history and its teaching. I don’t find that, because you’re a male and don’t have the “lived experience,” you lack credit. I find it important that our male allies become feminists and advocates for women’s rights.
These are valid points and dilemmas that you have, Professor Lyles. It means a lot that you had the desire to teach and have been the only professor to ever teach such a course at UIC. In your previous post about your decision for/against teaching POLS 356, you mentioned the negative comments and criticisms you received, yet here you are – still teaching this course! It is important to be offered different perspectives (whether or not you have experienced them). Being educated (perhaps to a certain point) can make you a great scholar as well – there should be no limitations. Your race or gender should not be the only characteristics that define you, nor hold you back from participating in something you want to do. I appreciate having the opportunity to learn from you. Grateful for all you do!
Professor Lyles, I just want to say how much I appreciate you and the thoughtfulness you bring to this class. Reading this made me respect you even more. Your honesty, self-awareness, and willingness to openly name your privilege, your limits, and the discomfort that can exist in this space mean a lot as a student. It’s clear how deeply you care about teaching this course the right way, not just teaching it. The fact that you are constantly reflecting, questioning yourself, and making room for students’ voices is something I truly value and don’t take for granted. That kind of humility, especially from someone with your experience and knowledge, makes this class feel meaningful and safe to engage in honestly. I’m really grateful to be learning from you and to be in a classroom led by someone who approaches this work with so much care, integrity, and respect. Thank you for all that you do.