How Should We Talk to Students About Our Perilous Times?

Our duty as teachers is to be honest; our mission is to inspire. This isn't an easy task.

As the world we have known has unraveled since the November election, I have been grappling with this difficult question: How do we teach our students about what is happening to our country without spiraling them into despair about their futures?

It is hard enough for me—a 62-year-old in the later stages of my career—to read the news and witness the authoritarian takeover of our once democratic government. At least I have enjoyed decades of adulthood under the protection of the rule of law, benefited from the fruits of higher education, and exercised my freedoms. It is far from clear at this moment that future generations will have the opportunity to live in this kind of society. It is tragic, frightening, and depressing all at once.

Another dilemma is that the destruction of democratic norms is taking place at a pace that cannot possibly be matched by counter-reactionary forces. Ideas for resisting the assault on liberal democracy are being floated. Forms of collective action are taking shape. But I do not yet have answers about how to peacefully contest the new American illiberalism. I cannot provide concrete advice to forlorn students on the best ways for them to meet the moment. There are not yet literal or figurative barricades ready to be manned.

Frank Bruni considered this difficulty in a column last month: What Do You Tell A College Student Graduating into This America? Describing his advice to a student who showed up tearful at his door, Frank wrote:

I said that her shock at the current turn of events is a reminder that we never know what’s coming next, and while that question mark can be terrifying, it can also be a solace. I said that the unpredictability of the story reflected its many authors, she and I among them. We have by no means reached a point of helplessness, but we will most certainly get there if we declare defeat too soon. Hope isn’t an option. It’s an obligation.

Yes, we have to convince students that they still have agency. Yes, we are in the early stages of this new era, and it is pointless to give up hope. And giving up hope is exactly what the authoritarians want—to sap the spirit and energy out of the opposition so they can carry out their hideous project unimpeded.

But simply to hope things change and improve is not a course of action. They deserve more. Our mission as professors is to teach our students how to both recognize and think through difficult problems and inspire them to live lives of meaning and purpose.

What, then, is the message that meets this moment?

Our first obligation as faculty is to be candid and forthright about exactly what is happening. Students generally know that Trump has fired a lot of government workers and is de-funding research. They have a sense that tariffs are damaging the economy. But I believe many are blissfully unaware of the Trumpian project to dramatically transform American society by undermining the rule of law, eroding the free press, weaponizing governmental power for political purposes, and taking control of higher education. They do not know that leading experts believe that America is already “on the cusp” of shifting from a liberal democracy to a competitive autocracy.

If we haven’t already done so this spring, we professors have an obligation next fall to shake our students and say “Wake Up!” I did this a bit in a first-year seminar this year called The Dangerous 21st Century. The final unit of the course was on the global rise of authoritarianism and the decline of democracy over the past quarter century (to be exact, Freedom House claims that democracy has been declining only since 2006). I was planning to discuss problems with American democracy in one of our final classes, but to avoid seeming partisan, intended only to discuss large-scale trends, not zero in on Trump’s illiberal assault since taking office in January. But after the Trump Administration released a five-page single-spaced letter detailing its plan to take over and control Harvard, I decided to show the students exactly what was at stake. I gave them the letter and asked them to imagine it said “Duke” everywhere it said “Harvard” and think about how our university would change if the terms of the letter were implemented. At one point, I ominously motioned to the camera that records our classes and asked, “Do you think that a government that could demand the powers over universities that this letter describes could also require access into this classroom and demand control over what I teach and what is discussed in this classroom?” These are smart students—they got the point.

But not only do we have an obligation as professors to teach our students what is transpiring in America and the world, but we also have to try to help them grapple with these realities. It is not enough to simply bestow them with a degree and say “Good luck!”—which universities across the country will be doing this month.

I thought our graduation speaker at the Sanford School of Public Policy, Jennifer Hillman, did an excellent job providing a set of useful principles for confronting the challenges of our times. She told our graduates that they would be called upon to exercise courage, would need to work collectively to be effective, and should take care to always act with kindness while seeking change.

I too tried my hand at inspiring my students to rise above the fears and disappointments of our modern times as I wrapped up a medium-sized class called 9/11 & Its Aftermath: How bin Laden Changed America and the World. For 15 weeks, we had examined another traumatic era in recent history and thought hard about how the policies put in place and the societal attitudes that developed during this period continued to (mostly adversely) shape our world today. Here is what I told them:

There is no use pretending that our country isn’t entering a period of dramatic change that is disrupting our institutions and possibly altering plans for the next stage of your lives. I am very sorry about this for you and for my children.

But I believe there is little doubt that you will have the experience of living through interesting times, perhaps far more interesting than the comparable period that I lived through in my prime career years—1985-2015. When you read about the experiences of those who lived through or fought in World War II or the tumult of the 1960s, they do not write about how it was enjoyable or that they would choose to do it again, but many said that they never felt more “alive” than they were during these times. John Lewis would not have chosen to have his head bashed in crossing the bridge in Selma, but he then preached for decades about the virtues of getting into “good trouble.” I do not know if we are living through a blip or a new era, but I think it is likely that you all will have the occasion “to think anew and act anew,” just as Lincoln predicted. You may be called upon to take action that is neither comfortable nor risk-free, but those experiences may truly enrich your lives and make a genuine contribution to the course of the future. My message to you: embrace the challenge.

Perhaps when I start engaging with students again in August, the path forward will be clearer and I can provide them with more actionable advice.

[N.B.: Thank you to readers who contacted me over the last couple of months urging me to write about what we have all been enduring. Besides being overwhelmed, as I am sure many of you have been, I have just not had the bandwidth for Perilous Times, with teaching, my personal life, and some international travel. My plan for the summer, however, is to get back in the game. Cheers, DS]