With University of Chicago's recent announcement that students should not expect safe spaces and trigger warnings on their campus and the subsequent uproar over this declaration, it is important to keep two things in mind. One- trigger warnings are not about softening education, but about giving students the opportunity to engage in becoming educated in spite of the trauma they may have experienced. Two- I have a reaponsibility to ensure that my students are safe.
It is this second point which begs the question: What is the teacher's responsibility in maintaining a balanced relationship between challenging students through academic discourse and maintaining an environment in which students can engage in that discourse?
I teach high school. Safety is different there because my students are minors, and those who aren't are still generally treated in the same way regarding their rights. If I suspect a child is being abused, I MUST call DCFS, and I have. If I know a child is trans* and that person's parents don't know, I can't go and "out" the kid. In college, those responsibilities for educators don't exist; they are replaced by the need for students to begin advocating for their own physical and mental well-being.
This is where trigger warnings become extremely useful. Just like getting on a roller coaster, if you've got certain kinds of medical conditions or previous injuries, you are advised against riding. That said, riders are still able to make their own informed choices. This is what trigger warnings do. They give students the opportunity to make informed decisions about whether their emotional injuries are such that they are at risk of further damage if they engage with certain course materials. They give students the opportunity to advocate for their emotional safety.
Here's another way to look at the same idea. We accommodate people with physical injuries and disabilities. Someone with a broken leg isn't asked to run the mile in physical education. Someone who is mute isn't expected to speak in a foreign language class. In each case, there are appropriate ways of responding. The student with the broken leg might have to run once they have healed. The mute student might be able to take an exam entirely in written form. Is either the ultimate, pure expression of mastery of the content? No. Will they earn perfect grades? Probably not, but they still get to learn. Why can't we accommodate emotionally injured students in the same way?
We can; we should.