Fields of Exile

by Nora Gold

  Suzy is regarding her appraisingly, critically. Then she asks, “What else did you have?”

  Judith doesn’t understand.

  “You said you had two items to discuss.”

  She recalls, as if from far away, that she wanted to talk to Suzy about being her thesis advisor. “Never mind,” she says. “It’s not important.” She hears the wall clock ticking loudly. I’d better get out of here, she thinks, before I make a complete fool of myself. After all, Suzy is still my prof. She rises. “I’ll go now.”

  Suzy, still seated, looks up at her with a frown. “Actually, there were a couple of items I wanted to discuss, if you have a moment. They’re quite important.”

  “Okay.” Judith sits back down.

  The first subject Suzy raises is all the work Judith has missed in her course. Suzy, comfortably in her teacher role now, launches into a description of the content she has covered so far. As she drones on, Judith only half-listens. The personal relationship with Suzy is over. So the rest of this doesn’t matter. Through a haze, she answers Suzy’s questions. Yes, she has gotten all the class notes. Yes, she has the handouts and the course outline. Yes, she has done the readings. But even as she talks, all that is real to her is the pain of betrayal. A deep inner bleeding. She is nothing to Suzy anymore. Yes, she replies dully, she can get last week’s assignment done for next week. Yes, next week she can also hand in the topic for her final paper. Yes, all these requirements sound reasonable.

  Suzy stands up to double-check on her wall calendar the due date for the final paper — yes, she had it right — and sits down again. She crosses her right leg over her left and Judith notices the shapely leg covered in silky nylon and the sharp, delicate shinbone running down its middle.

  “The second thing,” Suzy says, “is what happened at the last SWAC meeting.”

  Uh-oh. But at the same time Judith is relieved. She didn’t have the guts to bring this up, yet she is glad Suzy has. Maybe she intends to explain herself.

  Suzy says, “I was very disturbed by what happened there.”

  “So was I,” says Judith, gazing at Suzy’s face. So she, too, understands what a horrible thing occurred that night. How that meeting made a travesty of social justice and everything SWAC is supposed to stand for.

  Suzy says kindly, “I can see things from your point of view, Judith. I can imagine why you got so upset at that meeting. But” — here her tone hardens and the kindness fades from her voice — “I felt at a certain point you lost your objectivity. Your professionalism, even.”

  My objectivity? My professionalism? Judith feels her bowels contract.

  “And I was quite surprised,” continues Suzy, “at how hard you pushed for what you wanted. After all, you were there in the role of co-chair, not just another committee member. You were supposed to help me facilitate the meeting, not advance your own agenda.”

  Judith stares at Suzy. What are you talking about? she thinks. You’re the one who fucked up at that meeting, not me. You’re the one who should be apologizing. “I didn’t have an agenda,” she says as evenly as she can, trying to contain her anger. “I just thought what the committee was doing was wrong. And …” — she feels herself going out on a limb, but decides to go there anyway — “I think you felt the same.”

  Suzy’s eyes slide to the side and then return to meet Judith’s. “I have my own point of view, obviously,” she says primly. “But ultimately what I thought or felt at that meeting is totally beside the point. As chair, I have to respect, and give equal time to, all sides on every issue. It’s not my job to try to change people’s minds and get them to vote how I want them to.”

  “I didn’t say —”

  “People have a right,” says Suzy, “to vote however they wish. Last term I tried to help you. I stepped in, as you may recall, when the committee was picking Brier’s topic. I tried to interfere and influence, maybe even manipulate, the committee’s decision on that. I wasn’t even effective, because Lola saw what I was doing and called me on it. As she was right to do.”

  She pauses here, as if challenging Judith to disagree or interrupt her again, but she stays silent. Suzy goes on, “A week ago Thursday I could see which way the wind was blowing, and I tried to warn you. I suggested you take a few moments and consider very carefully what you were doing before making your motion, but you wouldn’t listen. More than that I couldn’t do. And shouldn’t do. SWAC has a right to reach its own decisions using proper democratic process.”

  What a cop-out, Judith thinks. Of course the chair is not supposed to manipulate the members of a committee. But to try and influence them is something else. People try to influence each other all the time, and that is also what good leadership is. Leaders lead. You, Suzy, should have led this committee, rather than just following it.

  Aloud she says, “I’m not quite as enamoured with democracy as you. Using proper democratic process, you can still arrive at a decision that is not a good or moral one.” Suzy listens attentively. “For example, what if SWAC democratically selected for its keynote speaker someone who was a racist? A member, for instance, of Aryan Truth? Or an anti-gay activist, maybe from a right-wing” — she remembers Suzy’s religious beliefs and just in time omits the word Christian — “fundamentalist group espousing so-called family values? Would this be okay, just because this person was selected through democratic process?”

  Annoyance flashes across Suzy’s face. “No one like that would ever get approved by SWAC, as you well know. Those individuals would not reflect the viewpoint of our constituency.”

  “‘Constituency’?! You sound like we’re in politics.”

  “Don’t be naive, Judith. Of course we are. Everything is political. Nothing is separate from the workings of the real world, including social work. Which is not to say that we don’t have ideals. But these have to be balanced against other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What exactly do our ideals have to be balanced against?”

  Suzy gives her a sharp look as if she’s being provocative. Which is partly true. But also she genuinely wants to know. She wants Suzy to have to say out loud, to articulate and put on the table, how she sees the world. What was so important to her that she was willing to sell her out last week. “I want to understand,” says Judith. Feeling momentarily like she’s again a student sitting at her teacher’s feet.

  “I believe you already know the answer,” says Suzy. “Ideals have to be balanced against reality. Against the needs and interests of other people. This school is not just a place of learning, Judith. It is also a community. And like any community, we have to keep a balance between the different groups and their interests.”

  “In other words, realpolitik.”

  “No,” Suzy says hotly, flushing from the neck up. “That is not what I am saying. I’m saying when you live in a democracy, you can’t always get what you want.”

  You can’t always get what you want. Hearing the Stones’ song in her head, Judith is stung by Suzy’s implication that she’s a spoiled brat used to always getting her way. “I don’t expect to always get what I want,” she says. “But I also don’t believe the majority is always right. At the U.N., for instance, you have one representative from Israel and one representative from each of the Arab countries, so of course everything there is skewed against Israel. Democracy has nothing to do with justice or what is morally right. Democracy is just demography.”

  She is feeling clever: democracy rhymed with demography. She sees Suzy’s face slightly soften. Her frown is thoughtful now, rather than disapproving.

  “I agree with you,” Suzy says, “that democracy is far from perfect. But still it’s the best we’ve got.”

  Judith nods. Her father loved quoting Winston Churchill, especially his line that democracy is the worst possible system of government — save its alternatives.

  “Which is why,” Suzy says, “SWAC is so committed to making all its decisions through
democratic process. It is also why these decisions must be respected even if you disagree with them. That is the nature of living in a democracy.”

  Oh, stop it. Stop patronizing me. But aloud Judith says, trying — though not fully succeeding — to keep the bitterness out of her voice: “You win some, you lose some — is that what you mean?”

  “Yes, Judith,” says Suzy, leaning forward in her chair. “That’s precisely what I mean. You don’t flounce out of a meeting just because you didn’t get your way.”

  “I didn’t ‘flounce,’” says Judith.

  “Yes, you did,” says Suzy. “That’s exactly what you did.”

  “Flounce?”

  “Flounce.”

  They look at each other, and then, unexpectedly, start to smile. Despite everything that has happened between them, their smiles broaden and their eyes laugh. But just as they are about to break through into full laughter, Suzy kills it by saying, “You have to work within democracy, Judith. There’s no other choice.”

  Okay, thinks Judith. Fine. Lecture me instead of laughing with me. Have it your way. Now she knows it’s really all over between her and Suzy. They will never laugh together again — not a true, open-hearted laugh, the way they used to. And this being the case, she might as well say everything she feels. Because now there is nothing to lose.

  “I don’t know,” she says, “what choices there are or aren’t. But I do know that not everything comes down to the will of the majority. There is something higher than that.”

  “And what is that, Judith?” asks Suzy, her voice suddenly very quiet.

  “Morality,” she says. “Doing what’s right. Pursuing real social justice, not the ersatz kind.” She pauses, probing Suzy’s eyes. “You were correct when you said that SWAC would never select a keynote speaker who was anti-gay or anti-black. But that’s not because all the members of SWAC are such fine, principled people. Some of them may be. But mainly it’s because it would be politically incorrect, and anyone at this school who suggested a keynote speaker who hates blacks or gays would be tarred and feathered. As they should be. But meanwhile it’s fine to bring here a keynote speaker who hates Israel and supports violence against Jews. Why is that, eh? I’ll tell you why. It’s because racism and homophobia are unacceptable at Dunhill, but antisemitism is not. Antisemitism is still acceptable here.”

  Suzy’s eyes narrow. “What are you saying, Judith? Are you accusing everyone on SWAC, me included, of being antisemitic? Because if you are, I’d suggest you choose your words very carefully.”

  Judith’s stomach turns over. She has spoken too freely. She still has several months at Dunhill, and Suzy is still one of her profs. “No,” she says, “I’m not saying everyone on SWAC is antisemitic. God forbid. But I am saying, as we discussed last term, that there is a double standard at this school. No one here cares about human rights abuses anywhere else in the world. Only in Israel. And no other people or country gets talked about here the way people talk on a regular basis about Israel. It’s fine to say anything you want about Israel. In fact, it’s almost approved of: If you denigrate Israel, it shows you’re a good, caring person. You care about the underdog. Things are not this way just because there’s a conflict in the Middle East. This singling out of the Jewish state is a form of antisemitism.”

  She stops, out of breath. But she is glad she said what she had to say.

  Suzy regards her pensively. Then she says, “I recall when you first shared this perspective with me. I thought it was interesting, and I still do. But I’m not sure I buy it.”

  Buy? I wasn’t selling anything.

  “To me, the reaction people have to Israel does seem very related to the political conflict there.” Suzy’s hair bobs prettily as she talks, reminding Judith of a photo from the 1950s she once saw of the most popular girl in a high-school class. “I’d like to believe,” says Suzy, “that most of the people here at the school are good people who truly care about social justice and human rights. Who are motivated by sincere concern for the Palestinians, rather than by any” — there’s a tiny pause here, like the beating of a bat’s wing — “anti-Jewish sentiment.”

  Judith says nothing.

  “Even if you don’t agree with the point of view expressed at SWAC, Judith, surely you agree these people have the right to express it?”

  “You mean academic freedom, free speech, and all that?”

  “Yes,” says Suzy. “Academic freedom, free speech, and all that.”

  She ignores Suzy’s tone and shrugs. “I think there’s a big difference between free speech and hate speech. People like Brier who advocate the use of violence against a specific group of people are using hate speech, not free speech, even if they try to justify this violence by talking about means and ends. I don’t believe hate speech, against any group, should be tolerated. There’s a book from the sixties I read called A Critique of Pure Tolerance, and in it Marcuse and his colleagues say that no society — not even the most open one — should tolerate everything. Because some behaviours, including certain kinds of speech, are a direct threat to a society and will undermine its existence. And one thing they say absolutely should not be tolerated is hate speech.”

  There is a pause while Suzy contemplates her thoughtfully. Then she says, “You’re very bright, Judith. Maybe even persuasive, though I still don’t know if I agree with you. But even assuming for a moment I did, what would you have me do in this situation? Anti-oppression Day is only two weeks away. It’s impossible at this point to start looking for another keynote speaker.”

  Judith looks back at Suzy. Nothing is impossible. As Herzl said: If you will it, it is no dream. But she does not say this aloud. There’s no point. In fact, she is starting to feel there is no point even in continuing this conversation. This game of intellectual ping-pong. Volley after volley. Vale atque vale. Because Suzy isn’t going to do anything about Brier. She doesn’t care. All she cares about now is getting her contract renewed, which means sucking up to Chris, Lola, and Weick. She wants me to make this easy for her, Judith thinks. To agree with her that she has no choice. But I won’t. Because she does.

  “Nothing is impossible,” she says.

  Suzy grimaces. “You expect a lot from people, Judith.” Then, “You’ve changed since last term.”

  No. You’re the one who has changed.

  “Maybe it’s delayed grief over your father,” Suzy muses. “Or problems with Bobby.” She looks at Judith almost hopefully. “I recall you saying that the two of you were having problems.”

  Judith flushes, embarrassed that she ever confided about this to Suzy. She’s also angry. How incredibly inappropriate for Suzy to throw this in her face now — something she told her in confidence. And to try using this to explain away what is happening between them, as if this whole conflict is because of her personal problems. She glares at Suzy: Don’t you try and “social work” me. Don’t even think about it.

  “In any case,” Suzy says in a voice as smooth and sweet as dark honey, “I guess the question remains: Given how negative you’re feeling now about SWAC, do you see yourself continuing on?”

  Judith looks at her, confused. What do you mean, “continuing on”?

  “Because if you don’t believe in what we’re doing,” Suzy explains, her tone pleasant, “if basically you’re uncomfortable with the whole direction we’re moving in, then I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to stay on as co-chair. You have to do what’s right for you.”

  Judith gapes.

  “I’m not saying I want you to resign. I’m just saying if this is what you decide, I won’t stand in your way.”

  What! thinks Judith. Am I now being fired from SWAC? First she fires me from being her RA, and now she fires me from SWAC?! Her cheeks feel hot.

  “My preference would be for you to remain,” says Suzy. “But only if you’re more or less on board with everyone else. We can’t have constant conflict on this committee. No committee can sustain that.”

  “You me
an I can stay as long as I follow the majority?”

  “You upset people, Judith.”

  “Upset people?”

  “Yes. Like when you walked out of that meeting.”

  “I wasn’t feeling well. I told you before the meeting started that I wouldn’t last all the way till the end.”

  “Yes, you did,” says Suzy. “But that’s something else I’ve been trying to figure out. How exactly does someone know in advance that an hour and a half later they are going to be too sick to stay in a meeting? I was hoping you could explain this to me.”

  “I was sick.”

  “So you keep saying, Judith. But what a coincidence that you felt so sick you had to leave the meeting right after a vote that didn’t go your way.”

  Judith flushes. She shouldn’t have been there at all. She only came to that meeting for Suzy. “I was sick,” she says. “But I also didn’t want to sit there any longer after what they decided.” Then, “After what you decided.”

  “I didn’t vote. I abstained as chair.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t do anything to stop it, did you? Other than telling everyone I’m Israeli.”

  “It’s not my job to stop it. I did what I could to support you, and I’m sorry if you don’t think it was enough. But that doesn’t excuse your behaviour. And not just at SWAC. Mike was just in to see me and he was terribly upset.”

  Mike? What’s Mike got to do with this?