-An Interview Series with John Capps-
“The self is not merely the rational center of inquiry but also an inherently relational part of social and ecological communities… This stirs me now… because of the connections of humans to nature; or rather that nature is in us, and we are in nature. From Emerson and Thoreau to Dewey, Mead, and Addams, we see this connectedness grow into the assumption that relationality is as relevant to our philosophy as rationality.“
Heather Keith is Professor of Philosophy, Executive Director of Faculty Development in the Center for Innovative Teaching & Learning and founding Director of the Highlander Center for Character and Public Impact at Radford University. She is the author of Intellectual Disability: Ethics, Dehumanization, and a New Moral Community (2013) and co-editor of Pragmatist and American Philosophical Perspectives on Resilience (2019).
What does American philosophy mean to you?
To me, American philosophy signifies an evolution in how we perceive the self. The self is not merely the rational center of inquiry but also an inherently relational part of social and ecological communities. One of my fondest teaching memories is of reading Emerson with first-year students: I remember sitting outside on a hillside on a beautiful afternoon in Vermont, overlooking the college farm and reading the opening of The Divinity School Address: “In this refulgent summer it has been a luxury to draw the breath of life…” and after a celebration of nature (“the grass grows, the buds burst, the meadow is spotted with fire and gold”), Emerson says “How wide; how rich; what invitation from every property it gives to every faculty of man!” This stirs me now not only because of the beautiful prose, but because of the connections of humans to nature; or rather that nature is in us, and we are in nature. From Emerson and Thoreau to Dewey, Mead, and Addams, we see this connectedness grow into the assumption that relationality is as relevant to our philosophy as rationality.
How did you become an American philosopher?
I became a philosopher as many students do—as the result of an interesting course with a fantastic professor (the late Dr. John Walker at Nebraska Wesleyan University). I grew into an American philosopher as a college student activist seeking to make sense of practice via great ideas in the history of philosophy. To me, the most intriguing parts of my philosophical education were those that fit with my desire to change the world. As an activist for social and environmental justice in college, I gravitated toward moral philosophy to motivate my own and others’ responses to issues like local homelessness and the global climate crisis. I met Peirce, Dewey, and James after a troubled relationship with Kant where I was trying to find an ethical universe that gave me hope for myself and others to become what the world needed for peace and justice. I was searching for a foundation in theory that supported moral growth and careful attention to context, rather than rules and rationality. For example, while I found that duty was relevant to volunteering at the local soup kitchen throughout college, care and empathy were more motivating. I was also interested in psychology and wanted to make sense of an evolutionary view of moral education and growth. So, for grad school, I landed at Southern Illinois University to study at the Dewey Center. When I found feminists like Addams, Noddings, and Kittay, I also realized that character (especially traits like empathy) was part of a fuller picture of ethical life and engagement with others.
How would you describe your current research?
My current research hasn’t strayed far from my roots in integrating theory and practice, though it extends the margins of what I used to think of as traditional philosophy. I recently led a team of researchers and practitioners (including two other American Philosophers) with the American Association on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities to produce a handbook chapter, a policy brief, and a journal article on ethical issues in healthcare for people with intellectual disabilities. I also write about innovative pedagogies, environmental and social ethics, the higher education poly-crisis, and how to infuse teaching with work on character so that students are motivated to make positive change.
What do you do when you’re not doing American philosophy?
In my day job, I support faculty to be the best versions of their professional selves, both in their work with students and in their scholarship. I also write about best pedagogical practices for individual and community resilience and care for others and the environment. My foundation in American philosophy heavily influences this work, of course. I also direct Radford’s new Highlander Center for Character and Public Impact and have developed a course called Wicked Problems that gets first-year students collaborating to make positive change both on campus and in the community. Most importantly, I am a parent (with Steve Fesmire—my favorite American philosopher!) of an amazing teenager, enjoy outdoor activities in Virginia’s Blue Ridge, travel, and handle one of Radford University’s therapy dogs. I am also an avid horseback rider and have taught a course on the art of horsemanship!
What’s your favorite work in American philosophy? What should we all be reading?
When I need a reminder of why I love being a philosopher, I pull out James, Emerson, and Thoreau—reminders that both human worth and living sustainably are what it’s all about to me, and that hope and faith in ourselves and others are prerequisites to making positive change in the world. I also appreciate literature that reinforces great ideas in philosophy; through his (and his grandfather’s) love of Native American philosophy, Tom Alexander taught me that storytelling is often the best way to move people toward values like human dignity, justice, community, and connection to the world that I find in thinkers like Dewey and Addams. To explore wicked problems such as the breakdown of community and the resulting harm to human dignity, as well as how individuals and communities can build resilience and put our shoulders to the wheel to mitigate these problems, Barbara Kingsolver’s novel Demon Copperhead and Beth Macy’s memoir Paper Girl are extraordinary stories of resilience and perseverance.
And if you’ve never read Jane Addams, go do it now.