Michael Weinstein, professor of political science, has an eccentric way of teaching involving his students in in-depth>
By Julie Glaser Assistant Features Editor
The 61-year-old professor is a punk.
He always has been.
The
only place Michael Weinstein would rather be than in a classroom
teaching political theory is sitting on a curb at a decrepit gas
station overgrown with weeds, jotting song lyrics into a notebook.
He's
a free spirit who takes life as it comes, challenges the system and
finds beauty and grace in the most unlikely of places like an old,
run-down, seedy motel.
Since he was a 12-year-old listening to
the rebellious black music of the '50s, Weinstein has been sorting
through politics, trying to understand the world and how to live in it
happily. And to meet him today, it seems as if he's figured it out.
Wearing
a worn T-shirt, jeans and black cap tipped back to reveal his laugh
lines, Michael Weinstein is as content discussing politics with
students in his neatly kept, book-filled office in Beering Hall as he
is moshing on stage as the lead singer and lyricist of his political
punk band, Vortis.
But his two worlds rarely intertwine. The
notebook is where Weinstein expresses his political views. His
classroom is where his students express their political views.
"In
class I try really hard not to take a position when I teach political
science," Weinstein said. And he isn't kidding. He goes to great
lengths to keep his opinion out of class discussion.
Last
Thursday in Weinstein's POL 353H, "Current Political Ideologies,"
class, his students led a discussion about affirmative action.
Weinstein wanted to show his class a different side of the affirmative
action story so, without warning, the white man wearing a Megadeth
T-shirt at the front of the classroom suddenly became an impassioned,
angry black father. For several minutes, Weinstein yelled about the
injustices this fictional father and his family have endured, as he
pounded his fist on chalkboard and stomped his shoes loudly on the
floor.
When the performance was over, he calmed himself and said, "Okay, so anyway ' "
But before the class discussion continued, his silent and wide-eyed class interrupted with a round of applause.
Jonathan
Estes, a junior in the School of Liberal Arts and student in
Weinstein's class, said it was that style of teaching that changed his
understanding of political science.
"He has a different
perspective, and he approaches things from a different direction,"
Estes said. "Instead of being biased, I see it as an actual political
science now.
"He's the only professor I know who explains things through a perspective; you won't ever know his political views."
The
only way students may get a glimpse of Weinstein's world aside from
catching a glimpse of the array of anarchist bumper stickers and news
clippings that cover his office door, is either to read from the 23
books he has written about "life strategy" or to go see him perform
with his band.
Weinstein joined his band, Vortis, in 2000 when
his wife, Deena Weinstein, a sociology professor at DePaul University,
to whom he refers as his "beloved colleague," set him up with a band of
30-something-year-old rockers from Chicago.
Weinstein began his
punk music career years ago when he and his high school friends played
sped-up rock covers of Little Richard and Chuck Berry songs.
"We would break bottles on stage and then roll around in the glass," he said laughing.
There's
no more rolling in glass, but there is still some occasional moshing
when Weinstein performs with Vortis, which signed with Thick Records
and released its first album, "Take the System Down," in August 2002
and its second album, "God Won't Bless America Again," in 2003.
Weinstein
spent his summer touring with the band in a van, traveling from seedy
motel to seedy motel across the Midwest, playing to crowds of punks.
"I
have to say by this time, the drugs, groupies and record deal signing
no longer have the appeal that they once did," Weinstein joked.
"It
is gratuitous to my life; it's not fulfilling some life-long dream," he
said. "It is a way for me to make a political presence that I can't in
class."
Weinstein's beloved colleague, Deena, a rock fan and international metal reviewer, is one of his biggest fans.
"I
suppose the coolest thing is that he has been able to combine his
intellect with a rock ' vive, a real sense of life and living well,"
Deena said. "You don't find those things going together very often."
Nowhere is Weinstein's sense of life more obvious than on the stage.
One
of the most memorable performances that Deena could recall was last
year at The Note in Chicago during a performance of the second album's
title track, "God Won't Bless America Again."
During the song,
some fans ripped apart American flags they had brought to the show and
draped them around Weinstein's neck. The next thing she knew, someone
lit the shreds of flag on fire. Then someone, who apparently
misinterpreted the song's political statement, attempted to punch
Weinstein in the face.
The fire was extinguished; the punch only grazed him, and now Weinstein and Deena laugh about the incident.
Weinstein only feels sorry because someone didn't understand his message, not that someone tried to punch him in the face.
When
it comes to music, Weinstein is not only a performer ' he is a fan. His
favorite kind of music, even more than punk, is rap.
"I will gravitate toward listening to rap because I think it is the greatest vehicle for lyricism," he said.
Weinstein
said he thinks the "most exalted rapper" is Ice Cube. But he also
listens to Eminem, Nas and Paris, a Black Nationalist rapper.
"Rap makes me feel more intense," Weinstein explained.
Judson
Jeffries, an associate professor of political science, has known
Weinstein for six years and thinks one of the things Weinstein does
best is incorporating contemporary culture into his teaching. Jeffries
also said he thinks of Weinstein as one of the foremost political
theorists in the United States.
"He is definitely interested in enhancing the minds of his students as well as his colleagues," Jeffries said.
"You
don't find many white college professors who are interested in rap
music. It certainly allows him to relate to some students in a way that
some other professors can't.
"He's like one of those throwback
professors from the '60s who's interested in justice and helping the
downtrodden. That's just the kind of person he is."
