Last semester, the UFV history department held an informal trivia night, and what transpired is one of the best sales-pitches I can make for pursuing a degree in history. What would have been a pretty standard contest in any other trivia night (even the socially-lubricated pub variety), quickly devolved into a series of lively arguments among the assembled students and profs. Answers were challenged. Questions were challenged. Some turned to Google, while others texted absent faculty for backup. There was no hint of animosity — only rigorous and passionate rebuttals — and refutations of rebuttals.
As academic institutions continue to drift from their traditional ethos — adopting a model that views students first and foremost as customers — disciplines that foster thoughtful debate are withering. More often than not, classrooms feel like spaces to agree and build upon common interpretations, rather than challenge them. Campuses should be safe and inclusive spaces for all people, but openly inquisitorial to (if not defiant of) preconceptions, ideology, and orthodox thinking. Good faith disagreement and debate is the grindstone upon which you sharpen and hone your own argument, building confidence and resilience, but also nuance and understanding. It’s a bedrock of liberal, pluralistic societies. Luckily, that spirit is alive and well in the UFV department of history.
Long ago, when DeLoreans roamed the earth, Brad was born. In accordance with the times, he was raised in the wild every afternoon and weekend until dusk, never becoming so feral that he neglected to rewind his VHS rentals. His historical focus has assured him that civilization peaked with The Simpsons in the mid 90s. When not disappointing his parents, Brad spends his time with his dogs, regretting he didn’t learn typing in high school.
