“Instead Luke proposes that teachers pick texts to deconstruct that are not the students’ favorites. Hence, a balance is created between social critique and allowance of pleasure; one does not come at the expense of the other. This delicate balance, sometimes referred to as the “politics of pleasure,” helps the “self-reflexive” teacher to validate the interests of children without co-opting them and making them “schoolwork.” (109, Gainer) From “Social Critique and Pleasure: Critical Media Literacy with Popular Culture Texts”

Gainer writes these words in rebuttal to the point that if student-centered instruction allows students to select texts for examination, there will be a tension between the critique and the pleasure the students derive from the text. One cannot deny that a tension will exist between the personal pleasure a student derives from a text and the critique the class carries out on its content. However, Gainer’s argument is weak and unsubstantial. He assumes that this tension is insurmountable. I propose that this tension makes the site of learning even more fertile. Exposing meaning through a critical lens can lead to a profound realization of why critical media literacy is important. A student realizing that something they loved is problematic does not need to be a bad thing – it may awaken their sensitivity to unacknowledged social issues. And it does not always have to be the case that secondary meanings detract from one’s original pleasure. It may add a new dimension. And although this dimension might be at odds with the student’s original rationale for liking the text, reconciling the two perspectives that now exist in the student is a good exercise in critical objectivity.
Gainer must also consider the diversity of sub-cultures represented under the label of “pop-culture.” If a teacher selects, for example, a rap text in a poor, urban, predominantly African-American classroom, it is discriminating against the students. It is likely that some of these students most enjoy R&B, Classic Rock, Jazz & Blues, or Mozart. Allowing students to select texts ensures exigency to their interest but not always their social reality. It does, however, always avoids problematic generalizations that may turn off students in the same way that presenting them arcane canonical texts might.
Gainer’s argument also cheapens the agency and intellectuality of the students. Students are more than capable of selecting texts appropriate for critical media analysis. If a teacher simply says, “bring in the hottest new track,” he is inviting the situation that Gainer fears. However, if the teacher says, “bring in a song that makes you feel like the artist gets you,” there is going to be an incredible array of text that reflect the social reality of students and are thus prime for study. Gainer’s perspective is, ultimately, a cop-out of student-centered instruction. Validating the interests of children is not enough when it is done at a shallow level to appease and not to deliver impactful teaching. And what he describes in his article walks a fine line between the two.