Putting the People Back in Politics

In our recent Bridging Differences conversation in Education Week, Deborah Meier points out that schools are ideal places for people to learn how to engage in debate, especially if they are diverse in race and ethnic history.

I'd add partisanship. In much of education, Republicans are the "other." And for all the gestures toward weighing of evidence and the importance of diverse ideas, the politics of educators (especially in higher education) is often highly moralized, dividing the world between the righteous and the damned, the latter usually described as ignorant bigots. Of course this is part of a broader pattern as well.

Today people think "politics" is a kind of warfare, funded by the superrich, revolving around parties, politicians, and professionals as detached experts. Citizens need to reclaim politics as the way to negotiate differences to get something done and work out how to live together. This was politics descending from the Greeks, revolving around the people in their role as citizens. I like Wynton Marsalis' description of democracy as like jazz, in Ken Burn's "Jazz": "an argument with the intent to work something out." It is also a description of citizen-centered politics.

How can we introduce children to citizen politics and its skills in our divided and demonizing world? And how can schools and classrooms be free spaces, sites for political education that builds democratic habits and democracy as a way of life?

One method is teaching and spreading what are called "deliberative practices." There is a growing movement to teach deliberation and its political skills- learning to cool the heat, listen to other people with different perspectives, and incorporate different ideas in "public judgment" not only "private opinion." The Kettering Foundation and the National Issues Forums have been leaders here. A forthcoming study by Stacey Molnar Main has shown striking increases in both teacher and student civic interests and skills among those who use deliberation.

At the Sabo Center for Democracy and Citizenship at Augsburg College, Dennis Donovan and Elaine Eschenbacher have been training students to moderate deliberative discussions and also to organize such discussions in communities.

A third example: Diana Hess and Paula McAvoy have a new book, The Political Classroom, which shows that many teachers, even the most partisan, are eager for students to hear radically different viewpoints. Teachers also experience pressure to "scrub" any controversy from their curriculum, so they need support in enacting this. Diana Hess is the dean of the school of education at UW-Madison.

In my experience, low income and minority students often deliberate more effectively than upper middle class professionals. Two recent experiences illustrate.

The first was a forum on "the legacy of slavery" several weeks ago that involved about 40 people. Almost all were upper middle class professionals from Minneapolis and St. Paul. Person after person took the floor to denounce the racism they perceived among working class supporters of Donald Trump and other Republicans and assert their own lack of prejudice. "We're all of the same view in this room," several said. Then I dissented strongly, describing my organizing days in a poor white mill community in Durham, on assignment from Martin Luther King. The movement leaders who mentored me didn't divide the world into good guys versus evil doers.

So I disagreed with the faculty and others at Duke who derided the people I was working with as "racist rednecks." Like everyone, people in the community were complex and certainly had some prejudices. But when they got organized they made many more connections with the black communities in Durham than did faculty.

Ever since my community organizing days I've been skeptical of the politics around "white skin privilege." It's not because I don't care about prejudices - I'm glad for prophetic voices like Black Lives Matter which shine the spotlight on racial injustices. But the politics of what is called "white privilege" strikes me as a key way that professionals mark their class differences from working class whites. This is ideological politics, revolving around professionals, not citizen politics.

And it's not a way to deal effectively with prejudice.

Another story was a forum that a Public Achievement team in a mostly African American high school, Fairview Academy, organized on gun violence. They invited four community members, including a white policeman. About 70 people were there. The discussion quickly turned to racism, and it was a striking contrast with the forum on the legacy of slavery.

Students were mainly nuanced, not self-righteous. They noted prejudices within themselves and within the black community, and also the existence of many different kinds of prejudices. And they responded enthusiastically to my story of community organizing among poor whites in the 1960s and 1970s.

Today we hear a lot of righteous rhetoric but not many stories about down to earth citizen politics -- civic organizing -- to complement prophetic statements. Denunciations of racism -- or any other major problem -- without grassroots organizing are like one hand clapping.

I see a strong appetite for citizen politics among young people today. So Meier's question, how can schools be sites of political education? is extremely timely.

I'd add, we need to put the people back in politics.

Free Spaces in Schools and Colleges

Deborah Meier, in her blog, "Inviting Policy Ideas for Democracy Schools," part of our weekly "Bridging Differences" conversation in Education Week, raises the idea of "places where people find it easy and enjoyable to swap stories, plan adventures, and discuss and argue politics."

I call these "free spaces." It is a concept with growing relevance in a time when people feel disempowered by many systems, and are divided along partisan, racial, class and other lines.

Free space is a concept that Sara Evans and I developed in the 1960s to name our experiences in settings related to the civil rights movement in the South, where we saw people - including ourselves -- develop a new sense of hope that the pervasive culture and structures of segregation could change. Linked, there was space for democratic discussion and work. Free spaces are always "more or less," not pure. But the effect of "free space" qualities can be dramatic.

We later wrote a book, Free Spaces, in 1986/1992, exploring free spaces at the heart of the black freedom struggle, women's movements, labor organizing, and farmers' movements. Free spaces are the places where people move from anger to agency. They develop vision, intellectual life, and democratic habits and skills.

In the South in the 1950s and 1960s, free spaces were places with room to talk about segregation. They weren't in schools -- my teachers were almost always segregationists (or if not, they kept quiet). Silence reflected the repressive culture in the South. In many settings interracial discussions were met with resistance, sometimes violence.

I experienced free space after my 11th-grade year, in a Quaker summer work camp in Philadelphia, where there were black and white kids from across the country. The intense discussions and debates were exhilarating and liberating.

Then in college many spaces had free space qualities, like the student "Dope Shop," a cafeteria at Duke where there was a never-ending running debate about segregation and other issues. A local coffee house off campus called The Triangle was the exhilarating meeting place for students from Duke and North Carolina Central, an African American college.

In the movement, beauty parlors were meeting spaces free of control by the white power structure. Highlander Folk School, the organizing and education center in the movement, worked with beauticians across the south to make them self-consciously movement centers. We also created free spaces when I did community organizing among poor whites, where there could be interaction with blacks.

When we started Public Achievement in 1990, the youth political empowerment initiative, we saw that PA depends on finding or creating free spaces where kids have room for self-organizing efforts and development of public skills and broader political agency. We soon found that sustaining free spaces in schools depends on renewing the public, empowering dimensions of teaching. St. Bernard's School in St. Paul, through the leadership of then principal Dennis Donovan, became our great incubator. Staff developed a sense of themselves as "citizen teachers," "citizen secretaries," "citizen custodians." Public Achievement became the spirit of the school.

The concept of free spaces now has enormous relevance in higher education, where issues of free speech have exploded in the wake of student protests about racial discrimination and other issues. Some propose speech codes and other measures to turn campuses into safe spaces. Others react with disgust at the idea of "political correctness." What both critics and supporters of students' protests have in common in our therapeutic age is little respect for students' own agency. This is linked to Meier's recent comment in her blog respecting people's intelligence.

The belief that "ordinary" human beings are extraordinary was reinforced for me when I became a mother and then taught 4- and 5-year-olds. We are born theorists working out how the world works, persevering even when our hypotheses so often turn out to be wrong. Rare is the infant who gives up easily. This belief is now, for me, a fact, not just a wish.


Professionals, whose incentives generally emphasize their own knowledge and intelligence and knowledge, can have a hard time seeing the intelligence in others. This is often an unremarked bias toward working class whites, who don't fit conventional progressive definitions of marginalized populations.

Elisabeth Bott, one of my students, took a class with Donovan, now organizer for Public Achievement on the staff of the Sabo Center for Democracy and Citizenship at Augsburg College who also teaches organizing classes at the University of Minnesota. Dennis is an exemplary "citizen professional," highly skilled in opening room for students to take the lead. Elisabeth wrote an essay for me about her experiences that she says I can share:

Our conversation on gun control and gun violence was intense. I had significantly different views than some of my classmates, but throughout the semester, we created an environment where conflicting ideas were valued and where challenging each other's ideas was welcome. We were respectful, but bold. It was uncomfortable but I loved it. I learned more about my own opinions and opposing views from the debate.


Elisabeth concluded with a generational manifesto. "I want every student to have similar opportunities so they can grow and gain confidence in themselves, just like I did." She argues that "being comfortable is overrated and being liked is overvalued."

Free spaces need educators like Dennis with skills of coaching without directing, listening without coddling or condescending, and challenging and energizing without dominating.

Free spaces are neither "safe" nor "dangerous." One student called them "brave spaces."

They are also seedbeds of democratic change in education and beyond.