So Much Depends On...

In my understanding of curriculum, I strongly believe that so much depends on emphasis placed on issues of equity, inclusion, and access. Even in my first few encounters with the readings, this assertion was feeding my irritation with the gendered language that I felt, overwhelmed the texts and often distracted and irritated me as I read. I felt immediately distanced from the early thinkers such as Bobbitt, Dewey, and Tyler because they only referred to learners and educators with male pronouns. For instance, in our first reading, Bobbitt states that education has the double-function of not only to “hand over to the new generation a proficiency that is equal to that of their fathers, but it is also to lift the proficiency of the sons to a height much beyond that of their fathers” (Bobbitt, 16). I paused to think how the young women during Bobbitt’s time must have felt in these environments; that education was solely a place for the male mind, experience, and development. Again, I mostly enjoyed exploring Dewey’s article, and agreed with his stance on many points such as the importance of helping the child know themselves and harness their personal interests and power, but I kept being interrupted by the focus on the student as a young man; “To prepare him for the future life means to give him command of himself…to train him that he will have the full and ready use of all of his capacities” (Dewey, 34). Each time I hit a “him” or “he” I thought about how girls’ capabilities were perhaps ignored, silenced, or re-directed.

Of course, I understand that the context within which these thinkers were working was hugely patriarchal, and male-centered, a reality that many cultures still wrestle with, including our western world. However, this understanding does not excuse the voices that were likely silenced or edited as a result of this environment. In reading Maria Montessori’s work, I noticed that even she participates in this gendered language, such as in her discussion of the scientist as “the type of man who has felt experiment to be a means guiding him to search out the deep truth of life” (Montessori, 22). However, I’d like to think that this participation was a tactic used as an access point into this entire male-centered discussion about curriculum and education. I can’t imagine that it would have been easy for her to assert herself as a doctor, an educational expert, an author, or in any of her other roles.

The experience of navigating these early readings reinforced for me that whenever we approach, create, and/or deliver curriculum, we must be cognisant of the language we use and that the curriculum is accessible for every learner. We need to remember to always use inclusive language, and constantly keep in mind that our students come from different genders, racial and ethnic backgrounds, religions, socio-economic standings, abilities, identifications of sexualities, etc. I believe that inclusivity is still something that many educators still struggle to balance and achieve. This is why in teaching, it is so important to be self-aware, and constantly reflective of what we are saying, how we are saying it, and perhaps, what we may be forgetting to say. When we bring in ‘knowledge,’ we need to encourage students to interrogate and be critical, and offer ample opportunities for engagement with a variety of perspectives, including their own. Consequently, we must also be willing to have difficult conversations and create a welcoming space where learners can question what we do and say.

We also need to ensure that we are validating, empowering, and thanking students for being willing to be vulnerable when discussing intense subject matter in the classroom. Sometimes, when students voice their interpretations, it can also be very emotional as they bring their lived experiences to say, their readings of a text. This is why I disagree with Dewey’s ideas about how “emotions will for the most part take care of themselves” (Dewey, 39). In my context, the role of the teacher is very much about helping learners to navigate their emotional experiences, especially as students develop their identities, and this openness to allow space for their self-discoveries functions to rework the curriculum as more meaningful and personalized. It almost seemed to me as though Dewey was advocating for children to talk about what they are excited about rather than what they are scared of.

Another important point of access in education is the physical classroom space as a potential venue for celebrating diversity and promoting equity, which is why I also take issue with the trivialization of the role of the classroom environment that Jackson writes about in “The Daily Grind.” One of the major strategies that I use to try to make the curriculum more inclusive is to make my classroom space reflect the diversity of the learners, and I don’t believe that they are mere “surface adjustments” (Jackson, 119).  For instance, I have my students help me to create an inspiration wall every semester, filled with quotes and images that will inspire them throughout the year, I have multiple LGBTQ positive space messages posted (which some students have asked for personal copies of), I have posters advocating for an end to violence against women with messages such as “Just because you take her home doesn’t mean you get to help yourself,” and as a result, several students have disclosed to me that they have survived sexual assault and I have been able to direct them towards resources and intervention. Our classroom space has allowed me to help serve my students better, showcase the work that they do, has been the catalyst for meaningful conversations, and the walls (hopefully) represent who they are. I believe that so many contemporary classrooms operate in this manner; they are not merely places where educators “change the color of the drapes in order to make the room more ‘interesting,’” (Jackson, 119), but rather are spaces of potential for questioning, relating, and empowerment.

Perhaps most importantly, however, is to remember that the responsibility to ensure that the curriculum is equitable, inclusive, and accessible is not only the responsibility of the educator; the student must also fully participate and build meaningful curriculum with the teacher. I believe that this collaboration is necessary if we want to encourage learners who are, as Maxine Green describes, ““open to the world,” indeed condemned to give meaning to it” (Green, 131). I really enjoyed her discussion of Karl Rossman from Kafka’s Amerika and how we must help our students break with egocentrism and learn when they are “committed to act upon [their] world” (Green, 136). Freire builds on this notion of the importance of transforming the world, especially in his emphasis on breaking silences, and particularly how people cannot say words “for another, in a prescriptive act which robs others of their words” (Freire, 157). Similarly, Sumara and Davis also speak to the necessity of breaking silences in order to interrupt heteronormativity in curriculum and “assist in the important work of eliminating homophobia and heterosexism in society” (Sumara and Davis, 326). 

To help build learners up and empower them to foster change, we need to work with them to create a curriculum that is made up of their own preoccupations, passions and fears, represents their diversity, and ensure that the students feel they are in a safe space to do this authentic work. Keeping issues of equity, inclusion, and access at the forefront of our minds while we collaborate in designing student-centered curriculum will create a powerful learning environment.