Some Thoughts on Coercion
I posted a response on the AERO list-serve to this question: "When we fixate on non-coercion, are we condemning some children to being handicapped in our society because it is more difficult for them to attain these skills and so they don't 'choose' to?"
My answer is yes.
It might take me lots of stumbling around and many sentences to get to the clearest articulation of why. Here is what I'm thinking: When we fixate or over-focus on non-coercion, we can tyrannize healthy back and forth relationships between peers, or student and mentor, or child and parent.
I think a healthy parent does not give their child white refined sugar whenever they ask, nor allows them to avoid ever brushing their teeth simply because they don't want to.
Babies are born with the instinct to be nursed and nourished at the breast of their mother. Yet, mothers are also wired to offer their breast and skillfully know when to make this offer. Breastfeeding moms nurse on-demand (they listen) but they also know when to nurse to comfort, to support, and simply to get food in their baby. I think "coercion" is a useful term when used to describe brute force or language that makes a child "small" and doesn't honor their dignity -- especially when adults ask for unreasonable things.
However, what is reasonable? And what requests -- even demands -- support life and the health of a child?
The extreme way to make the point I'm after is to describe our response to a fire drill. No matter how much a child protests and "chooses" to stay in a building where there is fire -- most folks I know would scoop the child up and get them out of the building.
On a more nuanced scale, I watched my 10 year-old son scoop up his 11 month-old sister as she neared an electrical power strip. She cried when he picked her up, but rather than putting her back down in hearing her protest, he simply held her closer and comforted her. He knew that she did not yet understand the world as clearly as he did in this instance -- and he knew just what to do.
I think there is better language to describe what we want for children and students. It isn't about a lack of coercion (though I admit to having used those words over the years) but about a focus on dignity, deep listening, care, and mutuality. OK, so fires and electrical strips are easy cases to make the point. Reading, or other "skills," certainly muddy the waters for some.
But, honestly, not too much for me -- at least when it comes to reading.
I buy into Lisa Delpit's critique/notion that we live in a culture where power and real freedom (and access to more power) comes from being able to read. This isn't good or bad (though I might be able to make a case for it being bad) it just is. The dominant world -- more white and male than is just --- relies on text to communicate ideas. No five-year-old needs to master this world. Indeed, when left to play hard, with opportunities to listen to stories and having real opportunities to engage in the world through text, most students I've ever worked with do indeed learn to read by age 10. Still, I've already seen too many exceptions to want to work out a philosophy on those who struggle.
Some kids want more structure and can articulate it. Some kids benefit and appreciate from more structure but can't yet articulate it. I can't ascribe to some magic age or approach, but I do think there is a role for healthy adults to play in helping others read and make sense of the world how it is -- in hopes that they can take this knowledge and transcend and transform it. While I think the best case for schools committing themselves to student literacy with dignity can be made by looking at social justice issues, it isn't the only way.
For the record, I don't think kids should be scared into reading. I don't think they should be told they are "behind" or "not at grade level" or made to feel inadequate. I think they should be given lots of room to find their way while enjoying environments where they can see people using and enjoying text over time. But I also think they deserve to have adults who are willing to share with them ways to overcome challenges when/if they find reading hard. I was deeply impacted early in my thinking about free schools and self-directed learning when I met a former alumni of a free/Sudbury type school. He shared that he loved much of his experience, but that when he went to college (which he did get into) he felt deeply and utterly betrayed by the adults of his school community. He came to believe that many of them could see that he couldn't read or write well but no one had the courage to lovingly tell him . . . and it made his first years very painful both as a learner and in making sense of his experience.
When we over-fixate on coercion, I think we miss the boat at what democratic education can be best at: deep, genuine, honest relationships with youth that allow them the freedom and responsibility to make sense of the world while supporting and challenging them along the way.
Posted in Philosophy of Education on Jul 16, 2010 - 07:04 PM
I'm often asked about coercion. What do I think about it? What does it mean to coerce a child? Am I a supporter of non-coercive education?I posted a response on the AERO list-serve to this question: "When we fixate on non-coercion, are we condemning some children to being handicapped in our society because it is more difficult for them to attain these skills and so they don't 'choose' to?"
My answer is yes.
It might take me lots of stumbling around and many sentences to get to the clearest articulation of why. Here is what I'm thinking: When we fixate or over-focus on non-coercion, we can tyrannize healthy back and forth relationships between peers, or student and mentor, or child and parent.
I think a healthy parent does not give their child white refined sugar whenever they ask, nor allows them to avoid ever brushing their teeth simply because they don't want to.
Babies are born with the instinct to be nursed and nourished at the breast of their mother. Yet, mothers are also wired to offer their breast and skillfully know when to make this offer. Breastfeeding moms nurse on-demand (they listen) but they also know when to nurse to comfort, to support, and simply to get food in their baby. I think "coercion" is a useful term when used to describe brute force or language that makes a child "small" and doesn't honor their dignity -- especially when adults ask for unreasonable things.
However, what is reasonable? And what requests -- even demands -- support life and the health of a child?
The extreme way to make the point I'm after is to describe our response to a fire drill. No matter how much a child protests and "chooses" to stay in a building where there is fire -- most folks I know would scoop the child up and get them out of the building.
On a more nuanced scale, I watched my 10 year-old son scoop up his 11 month-old sister as she neared an electrical power strip. She cried when he picked her up, but rather than putting her back down in hearing her protest, he simply held her closer and comforted her. He knew that she did not yet understand the world as clearly as he did in this instance -- and he knew just what to do.
I think there is better language to describe what we want for children and students. It isn't about a lack of coercion (though I admit to having used those words over the years) but about a focus on dignity, deep listening, care, and mutuality. OK, so fires and electrical strips are easy cases to make the point. Reading, or other "skills," certainly muddy the waters for some.
But, honestly, not too much for me -- at least when it comes to reading.
I buy into Lisa Delpit's critique/notion that we live in a culture where power and real freedom (and access to more power) comes from being able to read. This isn't good or bad (though I might be able to make a case for it being bad) it just is. The dominant world -- more white and male than is just --- relies on text to communicate ideas. No five-year-old needs to master this world. Indeed, when left to play hard, with opportunities to listen to stories and having real opportunities to engage in the world through text, most students I've ever worked with do indeed learn to read by age 10. Still, I've already seen too many exceptions to want to work out a philosophy on those who struggle.
Some kids want more structure and can articulate it. Some kids benefit and appreciate from more structure but can't yet articulate it. I can't ascribe to some magic age or approach, but I do think there is a role for healthy adults to play in helping others read and make sense of the world how it is -- in hopes that they can take this knowledge and transcend and transform it. While I think the best case for schools committing themselves to student literacy with dignity can be made by looking at social justice issues, it isn't the only way.
For the record, I don't think kids should be scared into reading. I don't think they should be told they are "behind" or "not at grade level" or made to feel inadequate. I think they should be given lots of room to find their way while enjoying environments where they can see people using and enjoying text over time. But I also think they deserve to have adults who are willing to share with them ways to overcome challenges when/if they find reading hard. I was deeply impacted early in my thinking about free schools and self-directed learning when I met a former alumni of a free/Sudbury type school. He shared that he loved much of his experience, but that when he went to college (which he did get into) he felt deeply and utterly betrayed by the adults of his school community. He came to believe that many of them could see that he couldn't read or write well but no one had the courage to lovingly tell him . . . and it made his first years very painful both as a learner and in making sense of his experience.
When we over-fixate on coercion, I think we miss the boat at what democratic education can be best at: deep, genuine, honest relationships with youth that allow them the freedom and responsibility to make sense of the world while supporting and challenging them along the way.
Tags for this entry:
democratic education,
coercion,
literacy instruction
Alex
Jul 23, 2010 - 10:18 AM
Excellent post, Scott. I think you made some great distinctions—ones that I have had to struggle with as a parent and as a teacher—when to step in and when not to step in, when to give my opinion and when to leave the child to their own impressions, etc.
I personally try to not intervene wherever possible, listening to gut instinct as to when I *really* do need to impose my authority as an adult, and sometimes it does need to be imposed, but not often. And I also try to communicate an honest look at the reality of the situation (e.g. yeah, most people know how to read and write better than you do when they get out of high school, but the choice is yours…)
I believe there is also a way of offering or providing structure and still being non-coercive about it. When it comes down to it, what I think all of this is about really is genuinely respecting children as equals, respecting their opinions and desires, and doing our best to listen, take the time, compromise wherever possible and as much as possible. They may not have the wisdom or experience of an adult or the power or leverage to insist but that does not mean that the opinions of children should not be taken very seriously.