Katherine C. Mansfield
Virginia Commonwealth University
At AERA San Antonio, Division A Vice President Michael Dantley challenged us to re-envision future directions for our field. This exercise seemed especially important considering recent political shenanigans and wondering what it all means for the future. For me, the way forward involves looking back to what we’ve already learned from folks like John Dewey, Maria Montessori, Paulo Freire, and Nel Noddings. This process stimulated many more questions than answers, that’s for sure. So, in 500 words or less, I invite you to join me in making meaning of their timeless and timely lessons (and my countless questions).
First lesson: Relationships, relationships, relationships. Noddings’ ethic of care prioritizes relationships. And Freire reminded me that personal distance is in opposition to true learning. Also, Dewey believed that teaching and learning are social endeavors and Montessori advocated for active exploration and interaction. Like them, I believe relationships are vital, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do I know much about my students’ lives? Do my students know anything about me besides what’s on my CV? Do my andragogical choices model teaching and learning as a social enterprise? Are my students taking what they learn about relationships and practicing it with teachers, parents, and students?
Second lesson: Democracy is precious; if you don’t use it, you lose it. There has been much discussion in the public sphere about the decline in civic engagement. Dewey taught that students of all ages should be active participants in the governance of their schools. Montessori advocated for self-governance via student-initiated exploration and learning. Both understood that practicing self-governance developed creativity, reasoning, and decision making skills. I also believe democracy is precious, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do my andragogical choices model the importance of democracy? How do I teach my students to practice democracy in their schools? Are my students applying what they’ve learned about shared governance in their organizations, even with the youngest students?
Third lesson: Silence is not golden. Freire prodded me to remember that a culture of silence empowers oppression. Students need to develop a critical consciousness to combat the culture of silence that stifles them from developing a language of critique. I believe developing voice is essential, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do my andragogical choices model a culture of transparency rather than silence? How do I help my students develop a language of critique? How can I teach my students to pierce the culture of silence in their organizations? Do the students in their schools have a voice?
In sum: How might a renewed focus on relationships, democracy, and voice help us improve how we’re preparing students to be effective leaders in their organizations? Let’s continue this conversation over a $10 cup of coffee in New York.
Virginia Commonwealth University
At AERA San Antonio, Division A Vice President Michael Dantley challenged us to re-envision future directions for our field. This exercise seemed especially important considering recent political shenanigans and wondering what it all means for the future. For me, the way forward involves looking back to what we’ve already learned from folks like John Dewey, Maria Montessori, Paulo Freire, and Nel Noddings. This process stimulated many more questions than answers, that’s for sure. So, in 500 words or less, I invite you to join me in making meaning of their timeless and timely lessons (and my countless questions).
First lesson: Relationships, relationships, relationships. Noddings’ ethic of care prioritizes relationships. And Freire reminded me that personal distance is in opposition to true learning. Also, Dewey believed that teaching and learning are social endeavors and Montessori advocated for active exploration and interaction. Like them, I believe relationships are vital, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do I know much about my students’ lives? Do my students know anything about me besides what’s on my CV? Do my andragogical choices model teaching and learning as a social enterprise? Are my students taking what they learn about relationships and practicing it with teachers, parents, and students?
Second lesson: Democracy is precious; if you don’t use it, you lose it. There has been much discussion in the public sphere about the decline in civic engagement. Dewey taught that students of all ages should be active participants in the governance of their schools. Montessori advocated for self-governance via student-initiated exploration and learning. Both understood that practicing self-governance developed creativity, reasoning, and decision making skills. I also believe democracy is precious, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do my andragogical choices model the importance of democracy? How do I teach my students to practice democracy in their schools? Are my students applying what they’ve learned about shared governance in their organizations, even with the youngest students?
Third lesson: Silence is not golden. Freire prodded me to remember that a culture of silence empowers oppression. Students need to develop a critical consciousness to combat the culture of silence that stifles them from developing a language of critique. I believe developing voice is essential, but am I demonstrating this in my actions? Do my andragogical choices model a culture of transparency rather than silence? How do I help my students develop a language of critique? How can I teach my students to pierce the culture of silence in their organizations? Do the students in their schools have a voice?
In sum: How might a renewed focus on relationships, democracy, and voice help us improve how we’re preparing students to be effective leaders in their organizations? Let’s continue this conversation over a $10 cup of coffee in New York.