Here’s a bit from my previous post:

Irony: putting a trigger warning on a post about trigger warnings. That said, it’s only fair to give a warning that I’ll mention a particular episode of my bulimia as part of this story. So if this is an issue for you, feel free to read something else. (…)

(Here I told a story about being triggered by a photo about bulimia, and the contemporary art professor asking if I needed a warning before any other “graphic” slides in his presentations.)

Recalling this incident made me think about the idea of placing “trigger warnings” on certain reading material, such as classic novels. Think about some of the literature that’s commonly assigned in upper level English classes. There’s a lot of disturbing elements. (…)

It’s not that these pieces are bad literature. Quite the opposite. One of the reasons that the writings have survived is how brilliantly the authors have grappled with the truth about humanity, often the brutal and ugly parts no one wants to see.

Some people need to see it: they’re hiding under a rock, pretending that the world’s as pretty and sterilized as a Thomas Kincade print. They aren’t naive, but willfully ignorant.

But others should not, because they know all too well that the world can be a terrifying and grotesque place. Those people need to be shown that beauty exists, too.

An official warning label plastered on the cover of Oedipus Rex might not be appropriate. But it wouldn’t hurt for book reviewers or blurb writers for novels to give a clear indication of the text’s contents. Then the reader can judge for himself whether to read.

In a classroom, I think teachers should allow students to skip certain books (or flag the most disturbing sections, at least) if the student says that the content is problematic (meaning, triggering, not just difficult!).

Obviously, this is a difficult subject, and not one that is easily resolved.

(end of 2014 post)

2019: Years later, things have changed.

Then my main concern was two-fold:

  1. Literature being taught to students. They have no choice but to read it and listen or participate in discussion. This is different from reading for pleasure, where you have a choice in reading material.
  2. Readers who had PTSD and were triggered, not only uncomfortable with the subject matter.

It’s been almost 5 years. I’ve revised my opinion. I’m still concerned with those two things, but I’ve added another:

Personal responsibility.

Picture the scene. First day of the semester. College students sit in generic classroom, talking, playing with their phones, laughing, settling down as Dr. Meredith Rankin, Ph.D., eccentric professor of literature, takes her place behind the podium. Sure, I don’t hold a doctorate or teach lit, but this is fiction. Suspend your disbelief.

We’ll skip Dr. Rankin’s opening pleasantries. Pretty boring anyway. Hope you had a great summer break/winter break, yadda, yadda, yadda.

MR: A word about trigger warnings.

(A few students put down their phones. Cartoon thought bubbles appear above their heads) Is she going to call us snowflakes?

MR: I’m not giving them.

(A few snowflakes frown and type on their phones, a smug look of satisfaction on their face. More thought bubbles) See? Dr. R’s another horrible Baby Boomer who looks down on us Millenials. Just wait until she’s in the old folks’ home!

(Never mind that I’m a Gen-X-er. Teach lit to college students ages you beyond your years.)

MR: First, let’s be clear. Being uncomfortable isn’t being triggered. Triggers are about trauma. If you’ve been through trauma, I have sympathy. Really, I do. Please get counseling.

(One or two look continue to type. Others, caught by Dr. R’s tone, eye her warily.)

MR: But I’m not here to be your counselor. I’m here to be your teacher. Someone once told me that the three great themes of literature are sex, death, and God.

Is this woman high? (One student slouches in her seat.)

MR: That means that a lot of literature deals with uncomfortable topics, topics that most of would rather not think about. If you’re uncomfortable but not triggered, deal with it. You’re legal adults.

(The student rolls her eyes.) Of course, the bubble says, another grown up telling us to grow up when they don’t know diddly-squat about anything important. Bet she doesn’t know how to use Snapchat.

MR: I’ve given you the syllabus. Every work that we’ll discuss is on this syllabus. It’s your responsibility to read it.

Mmm-hmm. Just what I need, another lecture on responsibility. Thanks, Mom.

MR: Check out the works before reading them. It’s really easy to do. There’s this thing called the internet and google, I think you’re familiar with it? (Clears throat.)

Bet she doesn’t know how to google like I know how to google! I can out-google any googler alive. (Picks up phone, starts searching for Dr. R’s social media accounts. Finds her Twitter handle & Pinterest.) Huh, she’s got some cool pins . . . No Snapchat, though. Knew it.

MR: Everything on this syllabus has been reviewed somewhere on the web. Google a title and it has its own Wikipedia page.

Probably inaccurate. My thirteen-year-old geek brother could change stuff on there.

MR: It’s probably inaccurate. Think about it. Anybody, even a 13-year-old geek can change things on Wikipedia.

That was freaky.

MR: But it’s a good start. Go to Amazon, Goodreads, book bloggers, wherever. If there’s something that’s going to be triggering, someone will have mentioned it. Some book bloggers even have a list of possible triggers on their blog posts. Then you will know if there’s some scene or action that will trigger you. In those cases, come to me. I have my office hours posted on the syllabus.

(Looks at office hours.) Sure enough, she’s got ’em. … a LOT of them. Oh, crap, I’m not going to have any excuse for not talking to her.

MR: It may be possible to skip over that chapter if it’s unimportant. But if it is an important aspect of the book, you’ll need to decide how to handle this.

(Perks up.) Maybe I can fake being triggered and get out of reading!

MR: Don’t even THINK about claiming to be triggered just to get out of the reading. I’m not stupid. (Looks directly at you.)

Freaky. Is she a mind-reader or psychic or empath or–Oh, sh*t, she’s a freakin’ vampire. Wait, vampires don’t read minds, do they? Did Edward read minds in Twilight? (Picks up phone and googles “vampires psychic”.)

MR: Doing that is disrespectful to those who have been through trauma and who are triggered.

Who’s she calling disrespectful? B*ch.

MR: But if you know that certain things will trigger you, YOU must take responsibility for this. It is not my job to stand here and warn you every class, “Oh, this might be an issue!” (Spoken in high, squeaky voice while wringing her hands.)

Cringy, totally cringy. If she tries to do the dab, then I’ll know that she’s high. All these professors are loony. I am so over being an English major.

MR: Honestly, I can’t control what your classmates say or if they choose to bring up a triggering issue. We will be discussing uncomfortable things. Not if, but when. If you think this is going to be a problem for you, it’s better to be prepared.

Sighs. Yes, mommy dearest.

MR: Look, you’re not reading for pleasure. These aren’t thrillers. Last time I checked, John Grisham and Gillian Flynn didn’t write Shakespearean plays. It’s not going to kill you to know the plot twists in advance.

It might kill me to listen to this lecture much longer. Why did I sign up for Shakespeare anyway? I hate Shakespeare. I’m changing my major. Business, engineering, who cares that I flunked calculus? At least I’ll make money in the real world–

MR: But here’s something to think about. A college classroom is a safe place to discuss uncomfortable ideas.

Whatever.

MR: It’s the one place where you can grapple with questions and conflicting ideas. Out in the real world? The business world? Online? In places of worship or barrooms or your neighborhood? You can’t do that there. It would be too divisive.

Damn right there. Like my friends ever want to talk about any of this. When’s the last time I had a good discussion about . . . What am I thinking? Yeah, I like to talk about ideas, and yeah, I like to read but . . .

MR: Outside academia, I can’t think of any place where we can have honest, direct, productive discussions about uncomfortable topics.

Has she ever been outside academia? Probably lives in her office. But if we get to talk . . .

MR: You’ll be free to disagree with me and your classmates.

I like that– Wait, what is wrong with me? Sh*t, this vampire psychic lady is getting to me.

MR: Be respectful and polite, and we’ll get along.

Maybe.

MR: So, let’s get started, shall we?

You mean we hadn’t started already? (Sighs. Opens Norton Anthology.) Might as well do this.