Mirabile visu. The past few years in Latin education have, indeed, been wondrous to behold. From the transformative global events that have shaped this third decade of the 21st century, to the inspirational pieces shared by educators throughout this series on Diversity, Equity & Inclusion in the Latin classroom, to my personal tinkerings in our small classroom in Toronto, Canada, we have seen a shift in how our Latin students learn, explore, and grapple with the complexities of the classical and modern worlds around us.
At the heart of the word “diversity” is the Latin root verto, vertere, verti, versus, with its meaning suggesting some sort of “turn” or “change.” Not surprisingly, this Latin word finds itself at the root of many other derivatives. These past three years, especially, I’ve found myself turning my practice over and over in search of more meaningful ways to help students connect with the field so many of us passionately love.
Abandoning aversion
Aversion (n.)—from the Latin a (away from) and versus (turn, change)
“Caecilius Melissam emit…. Melissa Grumionem delectat…. Quintum delectat…. Metellam non delectat.”
(Cambridge Latin Course, Unit 1, Stage 3)
I can still remember the days when I would gently turn the conversation away from the more loaded or seemingly-controversial questions first-year Latin students would pose when encountering these readings. But no more. As Runako Taylor put so well in his video, “The difficult stuff is challenging and can rarely be taught in one lesson…. I try to be honest about difficult topics.”
After learning to abandon my former aversion to discussing challenging subjects, today I embrace these uncomfortable moments with students. The thoughtful observations and questions they pose upon reading this story—in which Caecilius purchases the young Melissa as a slave—now serve as a springboard for our multi-day lesson on slavery in the ancient world. Our exploration inevitably leads to questions about, and comparisons with, enslavement in other forms and time periods.
“They’re mostly talking about [Melissa’s] looks, and she gets the job [because] of her looks — toxic beauty standards.”
“Did anyone protest against slavery at the time?”
“Can slavery in women/girls be connected to the idea of human trafficking?”
“How has human trafficking increased or decreased over time? What may have caused said decrease/increase?”
(Questions from first-year Latin students)
Unsettling and painful as the truths of these topics may be to confront, students have engaged: they have researched the effect of geographical expansion on the rise of Roman slavery; they have probed the socioeconomic factors that contribute to modern child exploitation; and they have delved into the far-reaching impact of modern the colonial slave trade. It has been humbling to see the bona fide curiosity and maturity with which students have approached these complex issues, and their questions only continue to open up new paths for further exploration.
Engaging in conversation
Conversation (n.)—from the Latin com (together) and versus (turn, change)
“saepe pater [Daphnes] dixit: ‘generum mihi, filia, debes,’
saepe pater dixit: ‘debes mihi, nata, nepotes.’
….[Apollo Daphnes dixit]
‘nympha, precor, Penei, mane! non insequor hostis;
nympha, mane! sic agna lupum, sic cerva leonem,
sic aquilam penna fugiunt trepidante columbae,
hostes quaeque suos: amor est mihi causa sequendi!’
….timido Peneia cursu
fugit cumque ipso verba inperfecta reliquit,
tum quoque visa decens; nudabant corpora venti,
obviaque adversas vibrabant flamina vestes,
et levis inpulsos retro dabat aura capillos,
auctaque forma fuga est.”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses I.481–482; 504–507; 525–530)
Students readily react to how women in the classical world are portrayed in these types of readings.
“Women are seen as objects [and] possessions; [like] Persephone [being] abducted.”
“[Was the] role of a woman mostly to be with a man…waiting for marriage?”
“The same pressure isn’t put on men….”
“Why does it seem like women are only talked about in terms of their relation to a man?”
(Comments by intermediate students)
But beyond the stereotypical platitudes about the treatment of women in the ancient world, students have shown that they are eager to engage in conversations on these topics and turn together to examine deeper implications. When women were mentioned in literature, under what circumstances were they given a voice? What role did Roman authors assign to women in their writings? In their foundation stories? In their mythology? Why was sexual violence depicted in such a seemingly casual way?
While I am far from an expert on gender representation and social norms, this series on DEI in the Latin classroom—including Caroline Bristow’s powerful presentation on confronting sexual violence in classical myths and stories—has provided me with tools and guides for broaching these topics in the classroom. Further, rather than wading into these discussions unprepared, my students and I share responsibility when entering into these conversations: as a teacher, I must establish clear goals and expectations that help students navigate difficult themes; as students, it is up to them to approach the subject with compassion and to uphold the conversational norms upon which they have together agreed.
Embracing diversity
Diversity (n.)—from the Latin dis (apart, in different directions) and versus (turn, change)
“his ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono;
imperium sine fine dedi. quin aspera Iuno….
consilia in melius referet, mecumque fovebit
Romanos rerum dominos gentemque togatam…”
(Vergil, Aeneid I.278–282)
“…infestiores Romani, quorum superbiam frustra per obsequium ac modestiam effugias. raptores orbis, postquam cuncta vastantibus defuere terrae, mare scrutantur….auferre trucidare rapere falsis nominibus imperium, atque ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.”
(Tacitus, Agricola 30)
Why learn Latin? “Isn’t it a dead language?” As Marco Perale found in an interesting survey, even students of classics associate the field with “colonialism, elitism, patriarchal attitudes,” describing it in terms like these: “[It’s] a nerdy, impressive subject, elitist and privileged in the sense that only the well educated and wealthy understand what my degree is.” This is precisely the reason why our work as Latin educators is so important.
The field of classics has benefitted from the foundations laid by our predecessors, fairly confined until recent decades to a narrow few with “privileged” access to the rich discipline. Today, though, rather than turning apart and fighting over whose interpretation of which classical author is the correct one, I find myself alongside my Latin students excitedly seizing the opportunity to turn these ideas and interpretations in different directions as we examine the implications of social, cultural, and historical context—including our own—in how readers make sense of the classical world.
In Robert R. Williams’ study of the German philosopher Georg Hegel, Williams writes that Hegel viewed tragedy as “not a moral conflict between right and wrong, but a conflict between legitimate rights and institutions.”5 As our students learn to engage critically with the classical world and each other’s diverse perspectives, it is my hope that they explore ways to navigate between the rocky extremes of right versus wrong, and even to pit right against right. Modelling this begins with us as educators: how can we set up discussion norms that elicit rich debate? What does it look like when one’s voice is heard and validated, even in disagreement? How can we explicitly teach students protocols for respectfully challenging each other’s ideas?
Reimagining the types of conversations our students can have has been one of my biggest takeaways from Cambridge’s series these past three years. Exploring difficult topics and diverging perspectives need not be controversial. With careful preparation, compassionate planning, and mindful guidance, we can curate meaningful learning experiences for our students as they turn and exchange diverse points of view, taking their study in different directions, even opposing ones. As we all work toward better understanding what classical studies have to offer, we can help students recognize that sharing legitimate, conflicting ideas need not necessarily lead to tragic clashes. Far from it; diving into the discomfort and engaging in thoughtful dialogue will ultimately enrich the lessons that the classics teach us about our own humanity. Sapere aude!
About the author
Diana Pai has taught Latin and Classical studies at St. Clement’s School in Toronto, Canada since 2004.
She earned her Honours B.A. from the University of Toronto and is a recipient of the Grace Irwin Award for teaching Classics.
Diana is passionate about encouraging students to explore the myriad ways in which Latin and Classics connect to the modern world.
She believes that Classical studies in all their facets (wondrous, inspirational, philosophical and, at times, problematic)
offer us an opportunity to ground ourselves in the lessons of the past and connect them to our shared humanity.
