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“To read these books, in this way, as an exercise in self-knowledge, carries certain risks. Risks that are both personal and political. Risks that every student of Political Philosophy has known. These risks spring from the fact that philosophy teaches us, and unsettles us, by confronting us with what we already know. There is an irony: the difficulty of this course consists in the fact that it teaches what you already know. It works by taking what we know from familiar unquestioned settings, and making it strange. [...] Philosophy estranges us from the familiar, not by supplying new information, but by inviting and provoking a new way of seeing.

    But, and here is the risk, once the familiar turns strange, it is never quite the same again. Self-knowledge is like lost innocence; however unsettling you find it, it can never be 'unthought' or 'unknown'. What makes this enterprise difficult, but also riveting, is that Moral and Political Philosophy is a story, and you don't know where the story would lead, but you do know that the story is about You.”

Text taken from: “Justice: What's the Right Thing to Do?” Introduction Class ― Michael Sandel

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TEXT I 

Decolonizing English Language Teaching for Brazilian Indigenous Peoples 

In an era of increasing contact between citizens of the diverse nations of the world, the far-reaching impacts of globalization are often linked to the propagation of English as a language for international communication in a variety of settings, including international trade, academic and scientific discourses, and diplomacy, among others. Given its status as an international language, English is also a highly-valued foreign language in Brazil, and its influence represents, at least symbolically, greater access to both national and global markets. As such, federal curricular standards require all students in Brazilian public schools to study English as a foreign language from middle to high school.

These standards also apply to the indigenous populations of Brazil. However, additional federal legislation regulates the ways that English and other subjects must be taught in indigenous communities. The Brazilian Constitution, ratified in 1988, represents a significant landmark in this respect, providing for the inclusion of 'specific, bilingual, differentiated, and intercultural' educational practices within indigenous school settings, thus guaranteeing each indigenous group the right to integrate their traditional knowledge, cultures, and languages into primary and secondary education curricula (Brazil, 1988). 

As such, the question of how to teach English in indigenous settings in a way that values traditional cultures and knowledge in accordance with the specific, differentiated, and intercultural approach mandated by federal legislation must be addressed. The status of English as the language of globalization, along with its long history as an instrument of colonial imperialism, poses an ethical dilemma in the Brazilian indigenous educational context, given that its inclusion in indigenous school curricula presents an implicit risk of recreating and reinforcing neocolonial hierarchies of knowledge production that favor Western perspectives over traditional indigenous systems of knowledge.

In an effort to adapt English language teaching to the needs and demands of indigenous communities, contributions from the fields of postcolonial theory, English language teaching, and sociocultural approaches to language teaching will be connected to current Brazilian laws governing indigenous education. The aim is to investigate the possibilities for the teaching of a decolonized, local English that values traditional indigenous knowledge systems over neocolonial global influences which are often associated with English.

Adapted from: https://www.scielo.br/j/edreal/a/43bj8bSQDpQYPjQTX9jK9jb/

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“A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”

― James Joyce, Dubliners