To Teach or Not to Teach? The Dilemma of a Left-wing Student Alison Tuffs Education Studies, School of Education, University of Northampton I have always wanted to teach. And I have always wanted to change the world. As a child, I was convinced that as Prime Minister I would one day make the world a fair place. I did not understand why on earth it wasn’t already, and spent a great deal of my childhood asking why “they” (whoever they may be) were “allowed” to do “that”, and receiving no sufficient answer. My sister insists that my first word was “injustice”, and my mother refers often to Sunday lunches when I would get on my ‘soap box’ and have a rant about the state of the world. As I have matured, things have only got worse. I recall with interest the introduction of the national curriculum and the comments of despair from my teacher, about the restrictions it would place on her, when I was only seven. So why do I want to teach? I have no idea! Perhaps I am just deluding myself that I can make a difference. My father believes firmly that I am going through a ‘phase’ – an idealistic university student influenced by her ‘loopy left’ tutors. But if that’s the case, why am I usually the only voice amongst my peers singing this tune? I am alone – as I will be in my classroom, and I want to make a difference. I want the children I teach to think for themselves, to understand the nature of rational and critical thinking and to reach their conclusions about the world in this way. I cannot simply stand back and look on whilst they are mere pawns in the capitalist machine, being allocated their roles for their futures. I want to inspire them to continue the fight – I want them to believe that there is something to fight for, that there is an alternative.1 I am regularly frustrated by the laid back attitude of my peers, who inform me as if I am stupid that this is the way the world works and to stop being a dreamer. What hope do we have for social change if these are the attitudes of teachers in our classrooms? This article will explore the nature of the teacher/pupil relationship in school and the oppression inherent therein. It will offer some explanations as to the causes of such problems and attempt to show how left-wing teacher’s can avoid discrimination in their classrooms. It will discuss the issues such student teachers may have with the system, and attempt to inspire them to be ‘educators for social change’ within their own classrooms. Chapter eight of Cedric Cullingford’s book: The best years of their lives? (2002), examines the relationships between pupils and teachers experienced in the secondary school setting today. Although my desire is to teach lower primary age children, his findings are still relevant to my teaching, as the relationship formed between a child and their first teacher will influence their attitude towards education in the future. By looking at issues such as: (amongst others) the role of teachers, the dominance of being taught, and fairness and unfairness in school, he brings to light, and attempts to provide some of the reasons behind, the difficulties faced in school. Cullingford claims that, for a number of reasons, “there is an underlying relationship with the role of teachers that is negative, dispiriting and disappointing” (2002, p.118). He says that pupils view teachers as imposers of outside will, suppliers of information for future testing and that their will and expectation “is something that essentially remains hidden from them in its purpose, and part of the power of authority” (ibid). The difficulty faced by children in differentiating between the role and personality of their teachers is also apparent (2002, pp.118-122). I was disappointed, and yet unfortunately not surprised to discover in a letter from my nephew that at the tender age of eight his autonomy and desire for learning are being so successfully repressed: “To Auntie Alle At school today I finished my Numeracy work early. We had to do symmetry on shapes. After playtime in Literacy we had to write about how people were rescued from a flood and had to go to a place were it was safe to stay until the flood died down. Later after Dinner time it was the time we were supposed to be reading I was reading the Lion King I didn’t finish it all I got up to where Timone and Pumba come in. Then we had to pack away for Science. In Science, we had to do about light. We had a picture and we had to write down all the things that give light. In P.E. we did some skipping I spent the skipping time finding a skipping rope that was the right length. Next we were doing hula-hooping we had to spin a hula- hoop round our waste [sic] I was one of the best in the class Love from Daniel” (my emphases) In 9 sentences, this ‘year three’ child has repeated 6 times, “we had to”; once, “we were supposed to”; and only once, “we did”. This suggests to me that he is well on the way to completing the lesson of capitalist education (in the sense of schooling) – that is, do not expect to do what you want. This is the way it is – you have to do as you are told. When not at school, he wants to learn, so it must be the school environment that is stifling him – and I want to be a teacher? Do I really? Can I really allow myself to support the system I abhor, to propagate the myth of equality and fairness within my classroom when clearly there is none? Or can I make my classroom equal and fair? Can I really be an agent for social change? Is it possible to believe in Education for Social Change and yet be restricted by the increasingly marketised business-like way of educating our young, and the commodification of the human condition (see Rikowski, 2004)? Cullingford offers some useful explanations of the causes of such problems in school. Starting with a top-down approach, he blames government interference and the constraints of the National Curriculum in particular – what he refers to as “the changing emphasis on their [teachers’] role as ‘delivering’ someone else’s curriculum” (2002, p.119). He cites Butroyd (2001) as saying that teachers are torn between job demands and complex relationships with students (p.120). Because of these impositions on the role of the teacher, children feel unable to ask for help and that teachers ‘can’t be bothered’ (p.122 and p.128). Continuing with a macro-sociological approach and on the extreme end of the scale, Anarchist thought holds that the present system of schooling is the problem because of the “inherent authoritarian nature of the system” (Piluso, 1991, p.339). It inflicts particular ideologies onto the people by means of a national curriculum and uses the school system as a “more direct and successful means of social control” (Shotton, 1990, p.3). The very presence of the school with its hierarchical and dominant structure is a mirror of society and, according to Piluso (1991): The root cause of childhood oppression in all forms and indeed, all oppression can be found in the very structure of our society – one based on domination, hierarchy and oppression (p.334). It is held that the authoritarian nature of schools represses the ‘free spirit’ of children and Libertarians offer ‘deschooling’2 as a critique, a process of education that confronts societal problems by “nurturing the radical spirit” (Piluso, 1991, p.339) as opposed to repressing it. William Godwin (1793) focussed on the causes of human behaviour, attempting to prove that circumstance and experience (i.e. the impressions upon individuals) are responsible for human disposition and action, as opposed to any original determination (p.29). Godwin (often seen as the ‘father’ of Anarchism) stated that the universe is composed of cause and event, making the introduction of an external force or an ‘unknown cause’ (e.g. genetic dispositions) ‘exceptionable’ (p.29). Of course, Godwin did not have the ‘benefit’ of the knowledge of modern science to help inform this opinion, however his ideas for education are still worth investigation. Based upon the ideas put forward by William Godwin, education could only flourish in a Libertarian3 environment (Shotton, 1990, p.12). If characteristics are developed as a result of impression and children are all capable of becoming rational beings, it necessarily follows that education should be free from coercion from either the state or the teacher, in order to develop free consciousness. Godwin argues therefore strongly against a national education system, which would inevitably “encourage the acceptance of existing social arrangements and institutions, subvert the development of a free consciousness, and seek to strengthen the state” (cited in Smith, 2003). Children should be persuaded to learn, not obligated by either the state or their educator. The role of the teacher, according to this ideology, is to provide motivation and guidance, and Godwin is confident that truth and reason will motivate a child to learn: “I may recommend some species of knowledge by a display of the advantages which will necessarily attend upon its acquisition”.4 Therefore, teachers must not exercise tyranny over their pupils, but treat them as equals, the “pupil should go first and the master follow” (in Locke, 1980, p.21). To develop freely, it is necessary for children to have control over their own learning: “Suffer him in some instances to select his own course of reading. There is danger that there should be something too studied and monotonous in the selection we should make for him”.5 This is an extremely optimistic approach, relying on the assumption that children wish to learn, and will develop naturally into rational adults (Locke, 1980, p.24). If genes do play a substantial part in determining behaviour6, there is clearly danger in allowing children to develop ‘freely’. Interestingly, Godwin himself later recognised the influences he had previously denied in his text: “I am…desirous of retracting the opinions I have given favourable to Helvetius’ doctrine of the equality of intellectual beings as they are born…there are differences of the highest importance” (1798, in Locke, 1980, p.140). Godwin continued though to stand by his recommendations for education even after rethinking the views in this text, still believing that education is ‘a most powerful instrument’ and with the “appropriate training, the relevant experience and the necessary education…every child…is susceptible to the communication of wisdom” (Godwin, 1876, cited in Locke, 1980, p.141). The debate regarding the proportional influence of genetics and environment continues, but as Trigg says: “…it is artificial to insist that it is the gene, or the environment, rather than the combination of the two…since it is in the very nature of evolution that the two act on each other, any theory which ignores the contribution of both is heading for trouble” (Trigg, 1982, p.viii). Until the level of significance of biology7 can be undoubtedly proven, discussion surrounding ‘appropriate’ education will not cease (See also the work of Caplan, 1978; and Gale and Eysenck, 1992 - for further discussion of these issues). Cedric Cullingford however, recognises that pupils do accept overall authority, just not being ‘singled out’ (2002, p.124) so the Anarchist perspective is generally seen as extreme. There has been extensive research into the issue regarding children’s relationships with teachers, and pupils’ apparent feelings of oppression, and there are a number of responses to the problem. Slightly less radical a response than Anarchism, although still radical left, is that of Marxist sociologists. Bowles and Gintis (1976) (in Moore et al 2001, p.67; and Bartlett et al 2001, p.4), argue that the school system is designed to deprive and advantage certain ‘types’ of pupil in order to maintain current social order. They claim that this is achieved through a ‘hidden curriculum’, enforced by both educational policy and individual teachers’ discrimination, that lulls pupils into a state of ‘false consciousness’ in their ability (DiMarco, 2002a; this approach will be returned to in more detail shortly). Cullingford (2002) has noted that in the current climate of testing and ‘improving standards’, children are made to feel that they are never quite good enough (130) and so often develop learned helplessness affecting their subsequent lives (See also Pellegrini and Blatchford, 2000, Chapters 8 and 11; Santrock, 2004, chapters 5, 7 and 13). Cullingford also discusses the monumental issue of unfairness within school. In particular, he indicates that positive discrimination and varying approaches to discipline result in confusion of children as to the expectations upon them (pp.126-7). Variation in teaching methods can be a problem as the motive of the teacher is often interpreted by pupils to be ‘convenience’ based (p.132). On a more micro level, there are also explanations for the feelings of oppression experienced by so many pupils. The Interactionist approach focuses on the interaction between teacher and pupil and the meanings drawn from it, which are highly influential to a child’s experience of school (DiMarco, 2002b). Many educationalists have used variations of Becker’s ‘labelling theory’ – that is when teachers attach particular ‘labels’ and thus expectations on particular students. These labels can be attributed in a variety of ways for a variety of reasons. Consciously or subconsciously, teachers ‘label’ pupils as good or bad, hard working or lazy. The child of a friend of mine, born to a sixteen year old single mother, living on benefits in a council flat, told me that he is: “blamed every day for anything that goes wrong … I used to be naughty and lazy, but I’m not any more I try really hard and my teacher’s still horrible to me – I hate him”. Working class students, due to the different cultural capital they bring to school, are often labelled more negatively than middle class pupils. Teachers expect middle class children to perform well in school, and so place high expectations upon them resulting in high achievement. Working class children however are often not expected to do well by their teachers, and so less expectation is placed upon them – or even the expectation of ‘failure’. Rosenthal and Jacobsen (1966) undertook considerable study into the concept of the ‘self fulfilling prophecy’ (S-F-P). That is, if a child is expected to achieve by others, they will. If on the other hand they are expected to perform badly, they often feel incapable and so act in the spirit of the S-F-P by means of failure (cited in DiMarco, 2002a). Labelling theory often implies the fault of the teacher, but as Willis’ (1977) extensive study into the achievement of working class children suggests, pupils often make a conscious decision to reject their schooling if they feel they will not need it (See also Moore et al, 2001, p.68). In cases like this, as Cullingford is aware (2002, p.117), there is little teachers can do. However, discrimination exercised by teachers is an important factor. Some examples of how teachers can contribute to the under-achievement of the working class follow: Example one exemplifies the different levels of expectation placed on pupils by their teachers: Teacher: Good morning class, now let’s hand in the homework task please Working class pupil: I haven’t got it sir T: Well there’s a surprise, just for a change! Middle class pupil: I haven’t got it either, sorry T: Oh really (name of m/c), I am disappointed – I expect that from (name of w/c) not you. Make sure I have it tomorrow ok. We see here an obvious difference in expectation – teachers must avoid such discrimination. Example two (below) of how teachers can contribute to the problem exemplifies the gap in discussion time apparent between the social classes. Duffield and her colleagues found in their 1990s study (cited by Hill in Matheson and Grovesnor, 1999, p.96) that pupils in working class schools spent 3-6% of their time in discussion, in comparison to 17-25% of time in middle class schools: Teacher: ok, your group (to ‘lower set’ group), there are some problems on the board, please sit quietly and work through them. This group (to top set group), I’d like you to go and discuss amongst yourselves in what context you may need these problems after you leave school – what skills have been learnt? As we see, even within the same school, streaming can often have the same effect - Keddie described streaming as ‘institutionalised labelling’ (DiMarco, 2002a). And again: T: (to w/c) Right, would you like to put the pencils away (name), and would you like to collect the books (name of m/c) M/c does as asked, w/c sits down T: I have just asked you to put those pencils away (name), why are you sitting there? Now do as you are told please. Thank you (m/c name) for doing it first time – one table point. This part is an example of what Meighan and Siraj-Blatchford (2003) call the ‘hidden curriculum of language’. They refer to Bernstein’s work, which recognised that the middle classes speak in an ‘elaborated’ language code, as opposed to the working classes ‘restricted code’. The language of teachers, and also of textbooks, is presented in an elaborated code that is different from the one working class children are accustomed to, and that they must learn in order to survive school. Working class children are generally more used to direct commands, and may not understand fully that they are being told to do something, as opposed to being asked whether they would like to - as Hill comments (in Matheson and Grovesnor, 1999, p.94): “This type of cultural capital is ‘knowing how’, how to speak to teachers, not only knowing about books, but knowing how to talk about them. It is knowing how to talk with the teacher, with what body language, accent, colloquialisms, register of voice, grammatical exactitude in terms of the ‘elaborated code’ of language and its associated habitus, or way of behaving.” During my own time spent in a reception class setting last year, I experienced first hand what Bernstein and Hill refer to. One particular child (the only black child in the whole class) would respond with blank stares to my greetings of “Good morning Lorenzo, how are you today?” However, when I reflected on this research, I changed my greeting to “Alright Lorenzo? How you doing?” and he would always answer. I changed my mode of language at random times, yet his responses remained consistent. This is clearly something that teachers ought to be aware of. So undoubtedly, teacher training is in need of improvement, drawing attention to issues of equality. Nevertheless, teachers can’t be responsible for everything; they work within a system that encourages acceptance of middle class values. There follow a few examples of how schools themselves can contribute to the under achievement of the working classes: Trips – the materially deprived often struggle to afford school trips. Some schools are addressing the problem by way of ‘voluntary contribution’ policies BUT often, if not enough money is contributed, the trip does not take place (or only those that pay attend). This obviously has an effect on equality in achievement. Uniform – supposed to break down class barriers, but is extremely costly for parents whose children may otherwise wear second hand clothes. A controversial issue. ‘Praise and Reward’ policies – although intended to recognise any form of ‘improvement’, these policies often clearly reward behaviour that middle class children are accustomed to (e.g. in example 3, a table point was awarded for the child who understood the ‘elaborated code’). ‘Technology’ – it is becoming increasingly important for students to have Internet access to aid their study. Working class students’ are less likely to be able to access the variety of information available to the middle classes. …The list goes on… But why do our schools work this way? Moreover, are they intended to work this way? Two approaches to education and their views on inequality will now be discussed. The Functionalist Perspective (based largely on the works of Davis and Moore, 1967; Durkheim, 1947, 1968; Parsons, 1960, 1964 (cited in Bartlett et al, 2001, pp.4-8; Hill and Cole (2001) ch.7; Hill, cited in Matheson and Grovesnor, 2000, ch.7) is based on the premise that education works alongside other social institutions to maintain the whole society. Its main functions are: the development of basic skills (i.e. Literacy/Numeracy); socialisation into acceptance of culture, norms and values; social control/maintaining social order, and preparation for work (role allocation) (Bartlett et al, 2001, p.8). This results in social reproduction: By reinforcing the status quo these functions actually benefit those who are in the best positions. They maintain stability and thus it is easier for those at the top to ensure that their children follow in their footsteps. Those at the bottom are, by and large, kept there. It is pointed out that it is largely their own fault for not taking the opportunities on offer. Thus, inequality is perpetuated and regarded as ‘natural’ (ibid). The school system works then to serve the interests of the ruling classes. Inequalities are necessary for economic stability - Functionalists assume that if a properly meritocratic school system were set up, everyone would have equal chance of success (Hill and Cole, 2001, p.145). For Marxists (such as Althusser; Bowles and Gintis, 1976; Bourdieu, 1977; Sarup, 1983, cited in Bartlett et al, 2001, p.9); Hill and Cole, 2001, ch.7; Hill, cited in Matheson and Grovesnor, 2000, ch.7), the purpose of formal education is also seen as maintaining social order and perpetuating existing inequalities, to reproduce capitalist society culturally, economically and ideologically. Capitalism relies on schools slotting certain people into certain sectors of the economy (Hill and Cole, 2001, p.148 - with reference to Bowles and Gintis, 1976). Unlike Functionalists however, Marxists believe this to be immoral, and in need of radical change (Hill and Cole, 2001, p.148). Working class failure is also partly a result of the ‘hidden curriculum’, which regulates attitudes and behaviour. However, writers such as Giroux, McLaren, Allman and Harker have stressed the role of teachers and students in ‘resisting the reproduction of capitalism and agitating for social change’ (ibid, p.149), as the working classes must become ‘class-conscious’ (i.e. aware of their own exploitation) in order for social change to occur. So what, if anything can be done to improve things for working class students and bring more equality into education? The role of the teacher and their interaction with their pupils is vital. Teachers have the power to change pupils’ feelings towards themselves, their teachers and their subjects: The fact that teachers have so much power is a matter of concern, especially for the teachers. The ‘power’ is not a question of automatic command but of centrality, of being seen as the mainstay of learning. They replace the subject as a centre of attention. They create or destroy different subjects through their relationship with the pupils (Cullingford, 2002, p.132). Cullingford states that “the experience of school is focused on teachers” (2002, p.134) and that if social relationships are healthy, “all else follows” (p.135). As he explains, the view held by pupils with regard to teachers is well researched and longstanding (p.119) and he notes that “once the main purpose of school is lost…all that is left is the need for oppression, for discipline, for the insistence on obedience” (p.122). These possible ‘causes’ for pupils feelings of oppression suggest the need for a more progressive pedagogy within the system. The current education system gives the same expectations to all pupils (in regard to academic results and behaviour), resulting in the ‘failure’ of many children academically, thus affecting personal and social aspects of the child’s development and often leaving them with negative feelings towards school and education in general. Progressive education is child-centred, focusing on the readiness, interests, needs and skills of the child (Hill and Cole, 2001, p.15; Bartlett et al, 2001, p.14). Usually the progressive classroom will also be a democratic one with the teacher fulfilling the role of ‘guide’ as opposed to ‘boss’ (Shotton, 1990, pp.8-9), which helps to eliminate the problems of understanding the teacher’s apparent inconsistencies in discipline and style. William Godwin also advocated discussion amongst children, stressing the importance of ‘real’ – not ‘mock’ discussion in order that they develop free, rational consciousness. The role of the teacher is still vital in this environment – as Armstrong states: “Guidance is paramount. Without the systematic help of tutors or pedagogues only a few students are likely to direct their own learning successfully” (cited in Shotton, 1990, p.9). Teachers have been constantly bombarded with imposed change of the education system in recent years. These changes, as recognised by Cullingford (2002, p.119), have contributed substantially to the deterioration of relationships experienced between children and their teachers. Without such outside pressure, perhaps teachers would be able to devote their time and attention to their students in such a way that would allow the development of trusting, healthy relationships in school. There are clearly also issues regarding the content and nature of the curriculum that cause dilemmas for left-wing students like myself. If the school curriculum’s subject matter were chosen largely in terms of its contribution to helping children to live a full