We see it in our news feeds, our timelines, our email inboxes. They are all filled with loads of stories suggesting we are really, deeply divided. This comes to mind.
Politics feel precarious.
Wars, insurrections, and more.
Gender, sex, bodies, abilities.
Race, class, historical reckonings.
Traffic!
I yelled at a man driving through my neighbourhood yesterday because he honked at some kids riding bicycles in the street. It was their innocence, their summer vacation, their carefree age I was trying to protect. Don’t scare them with your impatience. Don’t honk your stress and anxiety toward them – you’ll just create more frustration and hate. And don’t pretend to be doing something to protect them. I yelled. And no one felt better as a result—hot heads.
The planet is literally hotter than ever, and the use of ‘literally’ here is appropriate.
The post-pandemic world didn’t just go back to normal. We have all and are all experiencing global trauma. I’m not sure we’ll make sense of this for decades yet. The economy is vibrating with manifestations of that trauma. The future feels scary. I’m not sure what to do. Many aren’t sure what to do. We’re all exhausted and struggling with a soup of feelings leaning hard toward the negative.
Doesn’t it feel that way?!
And yet, we push on. We continue our teaching, our learning, and our questioning of how to do both earnestly, inclusively, and authentically.
Now more than ever perhaps, we need to employ a pedagogy of care, trauma, and openness. We have to push harder to come back together—to see each other and our collective trauma. To resist the urge to compare traumas and instead to double down on recognizing each other’s humanity. AI won’t kill education because education is fundamentally a relational act of diverse groups of people working together: both the work of being together and doing the work. (h/t Manisha Amin)
But, let’s be honest… who among us is not uneasy? We should not be feeling great about the ways things are going. And we’re going to need to be able to exist in this space for the future too. How can we simultaneously make sense of what is happening in the world and remain optimistic or at least hopeful?
Whose responsibility is it? Who is in charge of caring?
I argue that we all are responsible. Every single one of us has a lift, but your lift is proportional to your power, your privilege, your abilities and more. Those of us with more power and privilege and skills have to do MORE. We have to use our power to redirect power, not to control. We have to use our privilege to redistribute privilege to those who have never had any. We have to extend our skills to make it easier for everyone.
And we have to do all of this while allowing for productive disagreement and constructive conflict. Rooms full of these people (people with power, privilege, and presumably some skills) have historically been the ones to make decisions that impact everyone. An example of this is something I just learned about a few weeks ago:
In July 1944 deciders gathered (all men and one woman secretary) to establish what eventually became the IMF (International Monetary Fund) and the IBRD (International Bank for Reconstruction and Development). At this meeting of deciders, a definition for GDP was created – a formula for determining GDP was developed. GDP=Consumption + Private Investment + Government Spending +Exports – Imports. “It has become widely used as a reference point for the health of national and global economies.[1]” Seems straightforward so far. Except, what is missing from the GDP?
What is missing?
“Most glaringly, GDP does not capture the distribution of growth and, as a result, cannot reflect inequality.”[2]
“GDP also does not capture the value added by volunteer work and does not capture the value of caring for one’s own children. For example, if a family hires someone for childcare, that counts in GDP accounting. If a parent stays home to care for their child, however, the value is not counted in GDP…In addition, the enormous value of the country’s natural capital and ecosystems is also not reflected in GDP. Preserving the country’s natural resources—essential to our current and future wealth—is not counted, but exploiting them in an unsustainable manner is.”
Imagining the impact of that decision made in 1944 is dizzying.
Whose job is it to care? About education? About equity? About access to information? About people? About trauma? Historically, it has been the un-valued work of women. The kind of work that is not measured, valued, or seen.
Whose Table Anyway?
It makes me wonder, during this polarized time in our world: who is sitting at the table making decisions about how your institution will structure education for the coming years? Are there educators? Are there students? Are there marginalized voices? How are the spaces made brave?
We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist. – Robert Jones Jr. (Son of Baldwin)
No pressure, but it’s up to us: who is represented at the table to participate in the decision-making that will have cascading impacts across lives of teachers and learners. And when we meet a quagmire, when we have diametrically opposed ideas… it is our responsibility to, with care, navigate the hard things together. Deciders still need to decide, but what and who we listen to is what needs to change.
When the loudest voice wins, what do we lose? When the most viral-seeming extreme position gets attention, what do we miss?
Ethic of Curiosity
Education is not doomed. AI is not going to take over – nor are the loud voices calling to squelch education, access to education, a chance. This is a call for a re-education about what education can and should be.
What could it be?