Transcending Yonder Social Mill

Transcending Yonder Social Mill
Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy

“To enable students to envision alternatives, to inspire them to assume the responsibility for collectively recreating society.” (97)

While certainly the quoted phrase above sounds noble, I find it to be endlessly troublesome. This pedagogy is just bursting at the seams with politics, which happens to be my least favorite subject. Conflict lies at its center. People cannot seem to discuss it without descending into impassioned argument, even when they know relatively little about the topic at hand. Perhaps the trouble is that what we are striving to change is not one singular idea existing ‘out there;’ it resides in the mind of each individual. By the nature of society, each individual, consciously or unconsciously, plays a major role in its construction and perpetuation. In interacting with others, each models ‘correct’ behavior and reacts to ‘incorrect’ behavior, as Lord Tennyson observes in his “In Memoriam:” “For ‘ground in yonder social mill / We rub each other’s angles down’” (89 ll. 39-40), and so we already collectively create society.

Emily Dickinson observes the conflict inherent in socially constructed truth; it privileges the most commonly held belief and views other, foreign ideas as subversive and threatening:

“Much madness is divinest sense / To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness. / 'Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevails. / Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, -- you're straightway dangerous, / And handled with a chain.”

To envision alternative ideas is not only to threaten others, it creates a division in one’s own mind between others’ ideas, contained in one’s own mind, and one’s own ideas, ultimately dividing oneself in two. George points out this dualistic phenomenon in Finlay and Faith’s students who felt a “gulf that caused them to feel oppressed despite acknowledged economic privilege” (103), one that I can speak to from personal experience. This ‘oppression’ manifests in the way I perceive choice in my life. I wonder whether I truly want to be “funnel[ed] … into [an] appropriate middle class job” or if there is some other possibility that I cannot currently perceive due to my social ‘training’ that tells me the social structure in which I live is “natural, as unquestionable … as air” (96). While in many ways I reject the opportunities presented to me as the ones I should take, I also do not want to lose access to them.

This entire business of teaching students “to envision alternatives, to inspire them to assume the responsibility for collectively recreating society” (97) is simultaneously a gift and a curse. We cannot in good conscience mould young, peaceful minds, into troubled, social threats. This is not to say we should abandon the endeavor, but we cannot force it upon them, nor should we sneakily insert it into benign-appearing coursework. It must be something that a student chooses for himself and we must make him aware of the consequences.

New Names for Old Values

I'm with Mark--after reading his post "Help! I'm in the Bamboozlizer!" I'm realizing the lack of profundity in devising a pedagogy around the whole idea of empowering students. Of liberating students. Etc. Yes, Mark, I agree: these ideas are part of the basic package of why we teach writing to begin with.

So, why critical pedagogy? Sometimes it seems these pedagogies develop as reactions to extremists teachers the writers have met, or have imagined might exist. I get that. I think we've probably all met one or two of those in our ongoing jaunt through education. The teacher that is so light-headed with glee over completing his dissertation that he's insufferable to learn from because he, surely, knows everything there is to know about this-or-that topic. Or, as George's article suggests, critical pedagogy is reacting to the "back to basics" movement of the 80s, where a "teacher-proof curriculum [was needed] to restore excellence to the schools" (95).

I wonder, how much of our education pedagogy exists out of teacher need to combat or cope with poorly-reasoned politics?

That aside, part of me feels like I've heard this tune before. Pedagogy after pedagogy is about putting some of the power in the hands of the students. Is about de-centering the classroom. Is about valuing and embracing the real, living, breathing, thinking students who sit around you in class and creating something that caters to their needs.

I suspect that this can be a radical notion for the non-teacher. But as someone who has had the opportunity to stand in front of and attempt to guide a group of students to some set of goals, my only thought is Yeah, DUH.

Perhaps I am digressing. Perhaps I am missing the thrust of critical pedagogy. I find it interesting, but necessarily self-conflicting, and George acknowledges as much in her article. In order for critical pedagogy to be used and to liberate students, the teacher MUST be in control. The teacher DOES know more than the students, and that's why she's standing up there, guiding them out of dark into the light of freedom. And, as a teacher that uses such a pedagogy, I will be deciding that the students SHOULD be liberated from something, even if they aren't much interested.

(Although I suppose that is the case with anything we teach--students are often resistent, but we press on.)

What I DO like from this pedagogy is Shor's "power-sharing moves" (106). The idea of having the students determine what the class policies are regarding grading and attendence intrigues me--if they do it, they'll be even more accountable to it. I've wished many times this first semester of teaching, that I had had a formal conversation with my students on classroom expectations.

Again, though, this doesn't seem new. Isn't this just another leg or branch of a huge, over-arcing pedagogy that says, value your students and consider them when you teach? We are just parsing this grand concept into tidy pedagogical packages, but I'm more interested in the worldview that governs all of it.

Teaching Outside The Book

I feel much more positive about critical pedagogy after our class discussion; much more likely to consider incorporating its ideas and themes in an actual writing classroom. I had the same reaction to the Guide’s description of cultural pedagogy as I did to its treatment of critical pedagogy: the goals of the pedagogies were appropriate, interesting and possibly effective methods were presented, and both ideas would seem to lead to a broadening of awareness for students. But the terminology of both critical and cultural got in my way—that’s why my reaction improved once I understood critical pedagogy as discussed and applied in our class.

Much of the development of critical pedagogy seems to have risen from educators reacting to external political situations instead of being spurred on by the opportunities of meeting unique and evolving challenges of modern classrooms. George mentions that when proponents of critical pedagogy reinvented the roles of teachers and students they did so “as radical educators responded to a host of conservative reports on education… (95)” I wonder if the increase in home school educators in the mid to late 90’s was then a reaction to the influence of critical pedagogy during the 80’s? Critiquing the home school movement would take too long (and, from my perspective, would include both positive and negative aspects) but anytime the classroom is politicized by educators on any end of the cultural spectrum, students’ learning languishes in a kind of tit-for-tat escalation: pedagogies are created and reinvented to prove a point, to “stick it” to the other side, to counteract perceived and far-reaching conspiracies.

Giroux criticizes the “…subtle but powerful ways schools construct students’ and teachers’ knowledge and behavior, validating positivism and competitiveness over other forms of knowing or behaving (96).” But in proposing cultural production rather than reproduction, he insists that schools should be “arenas characterized by struggle between competing ideologies, discourses, and behaviors and which, thus, include spaces for resistance and agency (96).” What he seems to be saying (and I am sure that I am, to some degree, simplifying his statements) is that it is acceptable for schools to be competitive as long as the right ideas—in this case, the ideas accepted by radical educations—are victorious.

So, while I would disagree with much of the political background to critical pedagogy I do find a lot to like in its democratic backgrounds. Giroux and McLaren argue that schools should be places where students are encouraged to take part in a “democratic dialogue about lived experiences, including the content and conduct of their own education (97).” I can agree with that, as long as the experiences (not opinions, necessarily, but experiences) of all students are validated—even those who have experienced a middle-class upbringing, or those with a European family history, or those with conservative religious beliefs.

While I find it troubling that Freire needed to identify some individuals of any group as an “oppressed” culture, I do appreciate his position that on critical consciousness: “…the ability to define, to analyze, to problematize the economic, political, and cultural forces that shape but … do not completely determine their lives.” As in my thoughts on cultural studies from last week, it is important to always remember the shifting nature of identity, culture and history of modern students. Granted, there are genuinely oppressed individuals in our world but to divide all students into either/or groups of “oppressed” or “oppressor” is condescending at best, belittling—“small making”—at worst. I appreciate Freire’s conclusion that the focus of problem-posing education is student experience but his insistence on the “reflection of the oppressed” and the “struggle for their liberation” leaves me—and, I would guess—students like me, in the dark. Perhaps if I expunged the punctuation of the oppressors from all emails that I send at work I would take a step towards liberating myself from my boss’s heavy hand. I would probably liberate myself from a job as well. But at least I would be at leisure to consider my sudden inclusion in the ranks of the oppressed.

I do like Shor’s description of students as “people fighting for their humanity without quite realizing how they might reclaim it” and not simply as complicet victims quietly aquicesing to the system (95). This is a great way to broaden the application of critical pedagogy to middle- and even upper-class students who could be described as being oppressed by marketing and ideologically manipulative forces. I also appreciated the point brought up in class on Tuesday that any education should give students what they need in the present but leave them wanting more. In other words, you teach students to want more than what they imagined they needed.

An aspect of liberating education that was not discussed in George's essay is the importance of teaching media awareness. It is stunning how few people understand how to critically comprehend and classify news media—it should be not surprise that the supposedly balanced blowhards on talk radio and television are playing such a large part in the current election. In writing on the laws of England in the 18th century, William Blackstone stated:

“The liberty of the press is indeed essential to the nature of a free state; but this consists in laying no previous restraints upon publications, and not in freedom from censure for criminal matter when published. Every free man has an undoubted right to lay what sentiments he pleases before the public; to forbid this is to destroy the freedom of the press; but if he publishes what is improper, mischievous or illegal, he must take the consequences of his own temerity.”

Note that while Blackstone insists on the freedom of the press, he also calls for each member of the press to be responsible in his statements. With the increasing popularity of blogs and their seemingly cemented place in American culture, liberating educators have a fantastic opportunity to provide students with outlets to express themselves, in community, democratically.

Fighting the Man

In “Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy,” Ann George closes her article by noting Freire’s attempt to cope with the complications of the radical teaching instructor “who stands with one foot in the system, the present, today’s reality, and the other foot outside the system, in the future, in utopia” (109). I agree with Freire in that educators who embrace critical pedagogy must work their way through “the system” in order to help reform it through their teachings and through raising students’ critical consciousness. Like toddlers, educators must take baby steps, expect falls, and pick themselves up again in order to achieve their greater aim of reforming the broken system(s) of society (i.e., education, politics, etc).

As an educator who is currently teaching 1984, I cannot help but straddle the two worlds of the present and the future. Discussions of how the world of Big Brother is similar or different to our own society are unavoidable, and once students realize certain injustices in our own society, is it not our place as teachers to show them ways of channeling their anger, disgust, or disappointment in a constructive manner to reform the system rather than being complacent with the idea of sitting and whining “this isn’t fair,” or worse, trying to simply destroy the system?

Some scholars like Maxine Hairston take issue with the idea of “politicizing” the classroom, but I would argue that (1) everything is political and (2) promoting social justice is not promoting one type of ideology over another; social justice is promoting a concern for others. Dennis Lynch agrees that “respect for difference, fairness, and a forum for the free exchange of ideas,” which are all part of social justice, are “political values and agendas we share by virtue of living in a democracy,” not an ideology (108).

So what are the qualities of an ideal classroom in which we toddle toward a brighter future? Giroux describes a utopian classroom as a classroom in which “all voices in their differences become unified both in their efforts to identify and recall moments of human suffering and in their attempts to overcome the conditions that perpetuate such suffering” (105). Giroux implies that a utopian classroom takes action in order to overcome the conditions that perpetuate suffering rather than simply discussing conditions of suffering. In our study of 1984, should students and teachers simply discuss the conditions of torture in the novel, or should we write letters to the Secretary of Defense calling for improvement of conditions for detainees at Guantanamo? In a utopian classroom, we would take this action. We would actively engage in the world around us, not just our campus or neighborhood communities.

To put this in perspective, political action is not the main aim of my course, but I think it is safe to say that the power of language is at the core of every composition course. To those who are critics of critical pedagogy, I ask: is there a more effective way than political action to show that the pen is mightier than the sword?

Critical Pedagogy--multilayered conundrum

“Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy” by Ann George

First, I enjoyed the narration of George from a reader’s perspective. Her essay was easy to follow, flavored by questions and theories stemmed from her own struggle with critical pedagogy. This narration style allowed me to wallow alongside her and realize that critical pedagogy has many layers. The fluid synthesis of George’s references to critical works in the field allowed me see the arguments put forth by each major research/scholar in this pedagogy.

From the opening of George’s essay I felt the critical pedagogy’s connection to cultural pedagogy. Empowering students and creating democratic citizens seems to be similar aims between both pedagogies; however, George is quick to point out that critical pedagogy is unique for its explicit tie to education for citizenship. While I found many interesting ideas presented by George, several interesting points caught my attention.

First, George is discussing Freire, as she does throughout her piece, and relates his idea that “dialogue among students and teacher revolves around ‘generative themes’—domination, marriage, or work—that represent students’ perceptions of the world” in regards to “critical consciousness” education (93). As I read this passage, I wondered what the generative themes would be for today’s students? Would they still be domination, marriage, and work? How does one go about finding the major/main generative themes upon which a critical pedagogy class might be formed?

Another area of interest was George’s dialogue of the political influences upon education and how critical pedagogy scholars discuss these influences. I guess this portion of George’s article caught my attention because it is an election year. I was particularly struck by Giroux’s statement that contesting conservation definitions of education is important because it “gives voice to the poor and minorities but also to reach countless middle-class Americans who have ‘withdrawn from public into a world of sweeping privatization, pessimism, and greed’” (qtd. in George 96). Giroux made this statement in a 1987 publication, when Reagan was president, the DOW was averaging 2000 or higher, and Americans were prosperous. I wonder if there is a contradiction in Giroux’s statement and the current affairs at the time or if he feels that middle-class Americans, in general, have moved from a world of public concern and democratic understanding into a world of selfishness. Has this trend continued? If it has, how can critical pedagogy re-awake those who have withdrawn into ‘privatization, pessimism, and greed’? Will critical pedagogy help reach those that have withdrawn? Or is ‘withdraw’ a normal trend and practitioners of critical pedagogy must now address students within this new norm? I digress.

I like Jay and Graff’s point that teacher or school mandated pedagogy within a classroom circumvents democratic classes (George 100). I think that theirs is an important point to consider because while critical pedagogy aims for a democratic classroom, such a classroom may not always be possible. Thus, as teachers, how do we inject critical pedagogy into classroom where there is a restrictive mandate? George furthers this discussion by examining Jeff Smith’s notion that if teachers are to practice critical pedagogy and being democratic, teachers must let students set the agenda (wholly) for the class. This raises two questions: (1) where do teachers draw the line to being democratic? and (2) if students want a traditional classroom experience (what they have been schooled in up to college, let’s say) should the teacher give that to them as a critical pedagogy practitioner?

Yet another point that I found interesting was Finlay and Faith’s findings that students’ writing drastically improved when they used language connected to their private lives (George 103). I suppose these finding is why teachers are now trying to integrate students’ home language or the language they use outside of school into the teaching of writing and allowing students to write pieces that are self-chosen (the topics, genre, language, etc.). Students react more positively to contradicting the dominant culture/dominant language, as I believe Freire might put it.

The last idea or passage that stood out to me was the discussion of Shor and his classroom practices. I was intrigued with the concept of “after-class groups” (George 106). The immediate feedback for the teacher and the students would be tremendously helpful. Allowing both the teacher and the students to shape the direction of the class for the semester. I see it as continuously revising until the both participants have gleaned what they wanted from the course. Since I already practice a sort of class structure revision as my semester progresses, I found this concept possibly useful. However, enacting such a group would be a challenge given the time constraints of my classes. I would also worry that students would not be as forthcoming with me as they were with Shor. Often freshman are resistance and even scared to voice their opinions to the grader, no matter how flexible a teacher may seem.

Overall, I really enjoyed George’s long essay. Many of the ideas presented were thought provoking.

Critical Pedagogy

Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy

Ann George’s essay examines the goals and controversies of critical pedagogy. While critical pedagogy closely resembles cultural studies and feminist studies, it is differentiated from these approaches in its commitment to “education for citizenship” (93). It is noted that critical pedagogy is often referred to by many other names. Among these are liberatory and radical pedagogy.

The goal of critical pedagogy is an empowered citizenship. This is accomplished by engaging students in analysis of the inequalities present in the power structures of dominant society and institutions like schools. In a critical pedagogy classroom, students develop the skills they need to question and resist inequalities present in everyday life and thus advance the goal of empowered citizens in a democratic society.

Critical pedagogy redefines the role of the teacher, the student and the kinds of classroom activities they engage in. This pedagogy is attractive to teachers who wish to promote student-centered classrooms that empower students to engage in critical thinking and develop a social consciousness. However, critical pedagogy raises a number of difficulties for the teacher such as how to manage the ideological space of the classroom and the motivation of the students and their willingness to expand their self-understanding in the face of critical analysis of everyday life.

Critical pedagogy, with roots in the progressive ideas of the early twentieth century education reform movement, re-emerged in the 1980’s in response to an increasingly conservative climate that “worked to undo reforms of the 1960’s and redefine schools” (95) and championed a movement toward an “authoritarian, back-to-basics, teacher-proof curriculum to restore excellence in schools” (95). In a critique of the community college system of the 1970’s, critical pedagogy theorists responded with scathing critiques on the differences between elite and community colleges and how the later taught passivity and obedience while the former focused on critical thinking and problem solving. They called for intervention and a return to “the nearly forgotten American tradition of radical education found in the work of John Dewey and his fellow progressives” (97).

Much criticism has been directed toward critical pedagogy. It is criticized for its making of the classroom into an arena for the teacher’s personal political leanings and thus neglecting the students’ goals and opinions with the result of failing to honor its dedication to promoting democracy and a democratic society. It has also been criticized for simplifying categories such as “oppressive” and “oppressed” and avoiding the question of classroom authority.

The essay concludes with a discussion of Patricia Bizzell’s work in the search for ways in which writing teachers might “foster democratic discourse and social justice” (107) in the classroom while at the same time not abusing the authority and power of the teacher.