The Language We Use Matters
Or Why Schooled People Aren’t Sheep
By Idzie Desmarais
I find myself thinking more lately about the language
we use when we talk about unschooling, and the way in which we talk about
people who are not unschooling.
Often, in my reading of unschooling and alternative
education posts online (and sometimes in print as well), I’ve found myself
wincing in discomfort at some of the language being used.
Drones. Zombies. Sheep. The masses.
I also remember, in my teens, finding myself feeling
uncomfortable at a comment or joke a fellow homeschooler or unschooler would
make at the expense of school kids. I remember very vividly thinking one
time, “It’s not their fault.”
When we reduce the level of conversation to slinging
about words like “sheep,” we’re both being hurtful and obscuring the points
we’re actually trying to make. When we use language like that, I think we’re
doing a couple of different things that we don’t want to be doing.
We’re oversimplifying things to a ridiculous extent.
It’s not just a matter of people either doing what they’re told or forging
their own path. Someone’s ability to choose a path such as unschooling is
largely dependent on exposure to the concept (or similar concepts), the
resources to actually follow through with it, feeling that their choices
won’t be unduly punished due to severe marginalization they already face,
and the support needed to maintain such a connected and unconventional way
of living.
I hope that someday unschooling can be the way everyone
has the opportunity to live, and I support all efforts to make unschooling
and life learning (as well as any self-directed schooling projects) more
widespread and more accessible. But we’re not there yet. In the meantime,
blaming people for not being able to unschool, or feeling unable to do so,
makes no sense and is pretty unfair.
Whether someone goes to school or went to school,
has criticism of their schooling experience, or thinks compulsory schooling
is a good thing, it doesn’t lessen them as a person.
When we use negative language about schooled people,
it’s alienating. If we really mean it when we say that we want more people
to learn about and understand unschooling, and I truly believe that most
of us do, then being superior about it isn’t going to help. I’m all for
standing up to people who are being rude and aggressive about our choices,
but if we start in with being rude and aggressive instead, we never give
people a chance to express genuine curiosity and actually learn about our
educational beliefs and learning lifestyle.
If we want to be very insular in our way of living,
and furthermore have people know us as those rude and judgmental people,
then maybe calling others zombiedrones is appropriate. Otherwise? It’s
not appropriate, it’s not kind, and it’s not productive.
I’m all for criticizing schools, and compulsory education,
and standardized curriculums. I absolutely believe there’s something majorly
wrong with those things, and I appreciate the many great critiques out there.
I just think you can criticize those things without criticizing the individuals
who, through no fault of their own, are forced to attend school whether
they want to or not.
I’m sure that the upper levels of institutional schooling
(the bureaucracy, the government offices and corporate supplier of curriculum)
would like to manage children like sheep, and turn them into drones (you
know, good workers), but that does not mean that anyone, child or adult,
is a sheep or a drone.
There’s a big difference between those two things.
I know I’ve talked disdainfully in the past about
“the masses,” and though I hope I haven’t used any of the other ones, I
really can’t swear I haven’t. I know all of us have seen these terms used
by others, and most of us have probably used at least one ourselves.
In some of the less sensitive and perhaps less aware
writing I did in my later teenage years, my passion for unschooling was
often accompanied by anger at the institution of schooling, which is understandable.
But what wasn’t reasonable was that it sometimes overflowed into negative
feelings about kids who went to school.
So I get it. I get that it comes from defensiveness,
and feeling that you’ve been rejected or are looked down upon by schooled
people. I get it when it comes to teens and young people. And to some extent,
I get it when it comes to adults, who may have similar feelings about judgement,
and react similarly defensively. But, as an adult, be aware that the aspersions
you’re casting on people who go to school include those who are currently
in school: children and teenagers.
I find the language we use has such a profound effect
on the way we think. As I’ve learned and listened more when it comes to
a variety of social issues, from racism and classism to adultism and heterosexism,
I’ve found myself constantly challenged to look critically at the language
I use, the way I write and speak, and what beliefs or prejudices might be
lurking behind those words.
That self reflection has definitely bled into all
of my writing, including my writing about education. It’s a continuous process
of learning and growing, one I’m sure will be ongoing throughout my life.
It involves some simple practices of actually listening when someone says
“hey, that’s hurtful;” learning about and trying to remain aware of the
social inequalities around us, whose voice is given more weight and whose
rights are prioritized; and seeking in the way I act and speak and write
to challenge these inequalities, and just to be kinder and more considerate.
In my writing about unschooling that meant, and continues
to mean, thinking about who has the easiest time unschooling, who has access
to the most resources, and paying attention to how I talk about people who
aren’t unschoolers.
This isn’t an attempt to dictate how others write
about unschooling. What I’m trying to do is merely share some of my own
process, point out that some language I see being used too often can be
both hurtful and alienating, and to just suggest that people put some real
thought into their words.
We want to share this wonderful unschooling thing
with others, not to have people think of us as those mean people who think
everyone not like them is a sheep.
Idzie Desmarais is an unschooler, cook,
writer, and anarcha-feminist. She likes to spend her time making tasty food,
reading fantasy novels, blogging about unschooling, and going on road trips
with friends. She dreams of someday living in the woods with friends and
family, growing tons of tasty food, and writing books. She lives in Montreal
with her parents, sister, kitties, and a big shaggy dog. You can read more
of her writing on her
blog.
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