Interdisciplinarity isn’t merely a tool for research; it is at the very root of Associate Professor of Literature Zakiyyah Jackson’s scholarship and teaching.
By blending research and knowledge coming from literature, gender and sexuality, African and African American studies, and art, Jackson seeks to redefine our understanding of what it means to “be,” and in particular what defines a human in a world permeated with Antiblack sentiment.
“We have a responsibility to develop new approaches and knowledges that are tailored to rise to the challenges facing us,” she said. “We can’t simply apply knowledge and methodology. We must be responsive and improvisational.”
To understand what it means to “be,” Jackson probes at the concept of materiality. Using a table and a dragon as examples, she explains that one isn’t necessarily more real than the other: “Both are an aspect of reality, one is physical, and one is not, but both our coffee table and a favorite imaginary friend compose our reality.”
Jackson joins the Program in Literature this fall, bringing her unique perspective to a department rife with multi-faceted researchers and topics.
“It is my view that the study of literature and visual culture can help clarify competing perspectives on social reality,” she said.
We talked with Jackson to learn more about her research at the intersection of African diasporic literature and visual art, and how she helps students make meaning out of these complex ideas.
The following interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Tell us about your focus areas and the questions at the center of your book, Becoming Human: Matter and Meaning in an Antiblack World”
My research explores the literary and aesthetic aspects of Western philosophical and scientific discourses and investigates the engagement of literature, art, and the moving image with the historical concerns, knowledge claims and rhetoric of Western science and philosophy. By reading Western philosophy and science through the lens of African diasporic literature and visual culture, my research situates and problematizes troubling yet authoritative conceptualizations of being and existence, demonstrating that literary studies — and African diasporic literary and visual artistic studies in particular — have an important role to play in the histories of science and philosophy.
I think it is crucial to observe the demands that our research questions make on us as scholars, decide whether we are prepared to meet those demands, and let our questions guide how we work. The meaning, uses, and value assigned to Blackness are fundamental to the history of knowledge writ large. It would be difficult to overstate the importance of the question of Blackness in the foundation and organization of knowledge at the university and in our everyday lives.
Becoming Human is a call for rethinking the philosophical import of African diasporic literature and visual art. It demonstrates that gender, sexuality and maternity are integral sites for producing a human-animal distinction that persistently reproduces the racial logics and orders of Western thought.
I argue that the literary texts and visual artistic practices featured in Becoming Human generate transformative possibilities for reimagining being, by neither relying on animal abjection to define what we call human nor reestablishing “recognition” within liberal humanism as an antidote to racialization.
Ultimately, Becoming Human reveals both the terrorizing peculiarity of reigning foundational conceptions of “the human” rooted in Renaissance and Enlightenment humanism and expressed in current multiculturalist alternatives, as well as highlights generative, unruly senses of being/knowing/feeling existence put forward by key works of black feminist theory, literature, and art.
How do you help students understand the importance abstract concepts in philosophy and literature hold in their lives and understanding of the world?
The task of education is to empower students to think reflexively about themselves and their society in a manner that involves healthy risk-taking and vulnerability. My teaching strategies are designed to counter the pervasive feeling of inadequacy in the face of new knowledge.
My courses investigate the intentions and stakes underlying the practice of critical thinking, while also conveying a portable reading practice and set of critical analytical skills. They provide students with a vocabulary and introduce historical and theoretical frameworks for making sense of their experiences as well as those experiences that do not mirror their own.
My teaching is attuned to differences in student ability, learning styles, and curricular levels. Sensitivity to students’ divergent needs is crucial because I often find myself teaching literary and critical theory to students from other disciplines who have little background in the humanities and little critical engagement with my course topics.
I often explain theoretical ideas in terms of their genealogical development. Presenting theory in the form of narrative helps students feel more grounded and shows them that what they read does not exist in a vacuum, but rather is part of a larger ongoing conversation or tradition. Sometimes students need to learn from each other, a process that entails guiding them from a distance: allowing students to take the lead and educate each other through group activities, teach-backs, and reformulation.
Your research intersects with many different academic programs. Do you have advice for students with varied interests and deciding on their future studies?
Don’t take classes only in your major. Take courses all over campus. Remember the entire university has something to offer in the way of learning. If you see a course that interests you, try to take it. Our interests don’t develop in isolation from our practice of living. So, take advantage of opportunities to take classes just because they interest you and for no other reason.
The same advice applies to graduate education: Take a wildly divergent set of courses. However, cross disciplinary research and writing at the graduate level is a bit different. I think it is incredibly important to respect that there are different domains of expertise. If you need an area of knowledge to answer a guiding research question, either commit to acquiring it or choose another question or entry point to the topic. Recognizing the limits of your own preparedness and training makes for better cross disciplinary work.
Don’t wait on inspiration. A great idea is not going to fall from a tree like the legend of Newton’s apple. Great projects arise from a committed practice of research. Figure out a general area that interests you, or an open set of questions that move you, and start reading what others have said about it. Eventually, you will develop your own ideas informed by what others have said (or not said) but with your unique spin and interventions.
What does Duke bring to your teaching and scholarship?
Duke has some, unfortunately, still too rare qualities.
The Program in Literature is unique in that it is designed for students who would have a hard time fitting their interests into a given discipline and discipline-based degree by accommodating a cross-disciplinary and project-focused experience of education.
The John Hope Franklin Humanities Institute was a big draw for me. University students and faculty are well served by centers situating their work in an interdisciplinary context and providing exciting venues for intellectual exchange.
I understand my work as a part of a larger collective project. So, it matters for my work, tremendously, whether there is a Black Studies department at an institution, like the Department of African and African American Studies. A substantial commitment to the distinct knowledges emanating from the field is essential, as they are profoundly shifting how contemporary knowledge is broadly produced, in fields ranging from law to public health, to religious studies, and on and on. It is a key metric of a university’s commitment to thinking.
Program in Literature