For those of you who are not actively involved in the world of critical pedagogy and radical education, this name may not ring a bell.
For those of us who are and who do not yet know, I bring you sad tidings.
Joe Lyons Kincheloe died early this morning in Jamaica of a massive heart attack.
Follow me below the fold for more of the sad, sad news and some of my fondest memories of this humble man from Tennessee.
Joe Kincheloe was one of the lions of critical pedagogy. I am sure that he wouldn't describe himself that way. After all, Joe is/was (it's hard to think of him in the past tense) the humblest of men. Indeed, many people, when they met him, were unaware of his powerful mind, his writing, and his ability to lay bare some of the most outrageous wrongs committed against the powerless in the world. Joe wasn't in it for the fame or the glory. He believed in change.
To meet Joe was an honor. He worked with Paolo Freire, Peter McLaren, Henry Giroux, and most importantly, with his wife, Shirley Steinberg. To watch Joe and Shirley together was a study in contrasts. He was cool and calm, she fire and energy. My heart goes out to Shirley and the rest of the family.
The first time I met Joe, I was in awe. I will admit it. I had hero-worship. I had read his work. In fact, the book Changing Multiculturalism had a huge impact on my life, my teaching, and my thinking. Here was this icon of radical education with too many publications, presentations, etc., to count, talking to me-- a wet-behind-the-ears newly minted PhD. He could have been arrogant. He could have dismissed me. But he didn't. There he was in his jeans and tee shirt, welcoming me into his home. Listening to my ideas. Laughing at my sense of humor (macabre, at best). Joe was just a guy, who happened to also be one of the biggest writers in critical pedagogy.
What can I say about Joe Kincheloe to convey how devastating this is to me and to the educational community I hold dear? For Joe, it was never about getting his name in lights. Of course, he knew his work was well-known. He had many friends and enemies. Perhaps there were even some sycophants. Most of it never phased Joe. I say most, because there was one time, in the brief time that I knew him, that Joe got really upset about the politics of higher education. Even then, he was still kind, gentle Joe with the laser pen.
Ultimately, I think it was his life outside the immediate world of academia that defined Joe. He was a Tennessee son and had even considered following in his uncle's foot steps to become a preacher. He loved music. I mean, loved it--especially the blues. He was part of this band, Tony and the Hegemones. They always had so much fun playing together. Joe also loved his college football. Saturdays were all about college ball, and woe to the rest of the world if it prevented him from at least keeping track of the scores. Joe was a devoted father to Shirley's kids, and he loved being a grampa. He also brought out the nest in his students and brought them into a large extended family that shared in the good times and the bad.
I will miss Joe. There is so much more he was meant to do.