Critical race theory and racism

Sample paper on Critical race theory and racism

In Perpetuity: Maintaining Hierarchies of Power through Education

Introduction

In this synthesis of our work this quarter, I will be examining the tendency for education systems to reproduce and reinforce society’s existing hierarchies of power, in relation to both the most institutionalized and most personal aspects of our communities.  At the top level, I describe how broad governing power is kept in similar hands through privileged schooling. I then look more locally, examining community and family power dynamics that are kept in place through the traditional and patriarchal inclinations of education. Next, I dig down to the individual level, providing an account of how education embeds and solidifies even the psychological power relations we hold within our own self-concepts.  Finally, with this top-to-bottom analysis in mind, I conclude by describing how we might break the mold: by reimagining education in order to subvert these political prescriptions and strive for a redistribution of power.

1. Who Deserves to Govern? The Influence of Education on Political Organization

The participants (and non-participants) in our most institutionalized form of politics are in large part determined by systems of education. Often times, schooling continually reproduces the balance of power in government, where a certain class has the resources to obtain the educational standards required to rule. These individuals can then use their political clout to perpetuate such a system.

One early example can be seen in Neo-Confucian society, where rulers relied on civil service education and exams to maintain “civilian supremacy, greatly reducing the threat of potentially rebellious militarists and others who somehow gained regional control with separatist inclinations” (Liu, 1973, p. 484). While those with military power certainly had influence, that influence had limits—especially in state as dependent on bureaucratic organization as early China. Political authority was therefore more easily achieved through state-controlled channels of education rather than military might.

In Nahuatl culture, children were explicitly put on ruling or non-ruling tracks from a young age. While entrance into each was not exclusively limited, the Telpochcalli schools were established for the general populace, whereas the Calmécac schools were designed to educate future priest and nobles—and therefore attended most frequently by children of the elite (León-Portilla, 2004). Furthermore, participants of these schools “were taught…at an early age a respect for legal organization and [state] regulations and the knowledge that these were to be obeyed” (León -Portilla, 2004, p. 145). Not only was political power consolidated in elite hands, but all students were taught to equate morality to work benefiting the state. Under such conditions, the existing balance of power could easily be preserved.

From another perspective, when new—and often times foreign—rulers conquered states, they consolidated power by destroying the existing schooling systems and reforming them in their own image. For instance, when Muslim empires established Islamic rule in India, they destroyed Indian universities and executed Hindu scholars, ensuring that Islamic—and not indigenous—intellectual traditions reigned supreme (Ray, 1984).

Clearly, the powers represented in government greatly influence the rest of society. On the class discussion board post about Morally Inferior Leaders, my peer made a comment that people “are conditioned by their own parents and leaders, making them geared to follow others and believe what others believe” (M. Joshi, personal communication, November 20, 2020). And as we’ve seen in our own government, when our highest officials act with impunity and prejudice against certain populations, peoples, or religions, the rest of society is taught to follow suit, reproducing that powered dynamic from the highest office to the smallest neighborhoods.

2. Neighborhood Politics: Education and the Organization of Local Communities

Beyond just institutional power, the informal structures within communities—neighbor to neighbor, family to family—are also strongly defined by education.  We can look first at ancient China, where Confucian principles positioned education as a lifelong process of traveling further along the dao. As part of this path, knowledge had to be authenticated through action towards one’s community, whom a learner should treat with proper customs learned through education (Confucius, 1998). These principles were called li: a series of cultural traditions outlining many aspects of life, including behavior towards peers, elders, and neighbors (Confucius, 1998). As my Collaborative Assignment partner put it, members of the community were “obligated to be respective of customs and rituals…and responsibility and obedience… [in order to] create a harmonious community” (E. Cho, personal communication, October 21, 2020). Education in ancient China was therefore not just a personal endeavor, but an essential part of the community order. And over time, li became codified into sets of communal practices that were passed on to further generations, transmitting a cultural heritage established through education.

Looking closer, even smaller and more private structures like the family dynamic are swayed by education. An example of this again comes from León-Portilla’s (2004) observations on Nahuatl society. Nahuatl culture strongly emphasized a patriarchal structure wherein children of both genders were raised with the values of self-reflection and discipline. In particular, Fathers were expected to act as teachers in the family dynamic, and sons eventually grew up to become father-teachers in their own right, reproducing this family archetype with each successive generation (León-Portilla, 2004).

The influence of education holds even in societies much larger than the Nahuatl. Laird (2014) in particular paints a damning picture of English society’s Divine Right of Kings, and how the sexist and patriarchal principles stemming from this Divine Right trickled down into the family units of the masses. Because “kings function as idols for their subjects’ reverence” (Laird, 2014, p. 83), men learn from their behavior and begin to view women and their own wives as material property. Wives are then effectively the underclass of the family unit, losing even control over their own lives as “subjects to the divine right of husbands” (Laird, 2014, p. 84). Stripped of power, women then turn to morally corrupting values such as outward beauty and submissiveness in order to grasp for some semblance of power. But the Divine Right’s miseducative influence doesn’t stop here: in these patriarchal households, parents “become tyrants…[and] exercise…a lawless kind of power resembling the authority of [kings]” (Laird, 2014, p. 85). Children who see their fathers acting with impunity and their mothers obeying a sexist beck and call also end up suffering moral miseducation, becoming cruel, temperamental, and victims in their own right (Laird, 2014).

3. Education and Psychological Oppression of the Self

Finally, and perhaps most insidiously, even our own self-concept can either be built up or torn down by the political mechanism of schooling.  Asante (2007) describes the most blatant example of this in his account of the black educational experience. As it stands, most curricula in schools are taught from a white-centered viewpoint—African American children are stripped of knowledge of their ancestral culture and inculcated with a whitened version of history. This happens to such a degree that black students might even desire to “deny their [own] ‘blackness’ because they believe that to exist as a black person is not to exist as a human being” (Asante, 2007, p. 80). As a result, these white-supremacist sentiments are not only built into the content of our education, but also baked into the hearts and minds of students, reproducing the racism of outside society even in the private confines of their own psyches.

The same history can be seen even among other indigenous groups and communities of color. Among our Native communities, “centuries of colonization have left Indigenous peoples with a profound crisis of meaning…What does it mean to be a people…What does it mean to be Indigenous?” (Grande, 2015, p. 69). Native existence has been defined in relation to Western settlement for so long that they’ve lost an intrinsic sense of identity. Like black Americans, Native American thought has been inculcated with “models of thinking, organization, and development that were used to destroy non-state societies” (Grande, 2015, p. 69). Given that the dialogue they use to refer to themselves was created by a colonizer, how can they view themselves as whole? With loci of control so external to themselves, how can they help but feel a lack of self-esteem and self-efficacy (Grande, 2015)?

4. Re-educating Power

Though the picture painted thus far has been grim, we can still look for a way forward—if education is so instrumental in perpetuating power relations, how might we realize a radically different future? Clearly, by radically reimagining education. This section in particular will focus on describing the process of decolonizing education.

In China, such an effort involves moving past China’s Westernized constitutional structure and introducing a return to Confucian governance. Jiang (2012) envisions such a future facilitated through the Academy, a state-established school with the responsibility of morally educating politicians, holding rulers accountable to Confucian standards, and much more. Whereas modern constitutional scholars in China have mostly accepted Western ideals of governance, reestablishing a Confucian society would not only demonstrate the capabilities of Chinese intellectuals, but also answer the calls of a people with increasing Confucian belief (Jiang, 2012).

For black students in the United States, Asante (2007) advocates for the implementation of Afrocentric education in classrooms. In such a model, African-American learners are positioned as agents within classroom content; this includes detailing the experiences of slaves as they were transported across the Atlantic, the great intellectual traditions hailing from ancient Africa, and espousing the benefits of multicultural education (Asante, 2007). As such, black students may see themselves as powerful and centered individuals.

Grande’s (2015) vision for Native education is similar. She calls for a Red pedagogy features the critical examination of Eurocentric curricula, the separation of education from its colonial roots, and the integration of Indigenous knowledge into classrooms (Grande, 2015). With these conditions fulfilled, the hope is for students to both reclaim the Native identity and intellectual discourse, and to reckon with the current colonial system.

Having described the work of these three authors, I truly believe such educational reform can be effective. I am lucky to have personally benefitted from reimagined education in my own schooling. Throughout my time in middle school, my language arts and social studies curriculum intentionally featured significant variety of multicultural thought. We had entire units dedicated to religions like Buddhism and Islam, cultures like ancient China and Africa, and cross-cultural phenomena like globalization. In particular, learning about Chinese culture not only taught me about my own history, but it made me feel seen as a student—how reaffirming is it to see your childhood sights and sounds being reflected in the classroom?

Looking towards the future of education, I think radical thought may be necessary to promote significant change. As one of my peers expressed in a discussion board assignment, “If something is inherently corrupt…then…it would make more sense to abolish and rebuild. [And] if people have no way of reimagining something, and all we know is the system we’re trying to abolish, then there needs to be genuine dedication to unlearning and relearning new things” (S. Menjivar, personal communication, November 15, 2020).

Conclusion

While education is most often associated with a job and a degree, its far-reaching implications cannot be overlooked. The most significant power structures in our society all come down to education: our political governance, the fabric of our communities, and even the capabilities we mentally attribute to ourselves. When education is misdelivered or serves a tyrannical agenda, we can see the devastating effects from societies dating from 18^th century England to our modern United States. And that’s why I believe we need to reimagine education—to bring in all students not as bystanders, but as participants; to decolonize the curricula we put forth to the youth; to show children not just the features of our own country, but also the diverse wonders of the world. Education can be so much more meaningful and transformative than it is today. That’s why, through this class and others, through our discussions and dialogues, we can all work towards a better future of teaching and learning.

Works Cited

Asante, M. (2007). An Afrocentric manifesto: Toward an African renaissance. Cambridge: Polity

Press.

Confucius (1998). The analects of Confucius: A philosophical translation (R. Ames and H.

Rosemont, Jr. Trans.). New York: Ballantine Books.

Grande, S. (2015). Red pedagogy: Native American social and political thought. Lahnam:

Rowman & Littlefield.

Jiang, Q. (2012). A Confucian Constitutional Order: How China’s Ancient Past Can Shape Its

Political Future. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Laird, S. (2014). Mary Wollstonecraft. London: Bloomsbury.

León-Portilla, M. (1990). Aztec thought and culture: A study of the ancient Nahuatl mind (J.

Davis, trans.). Norman: University of Oklahoma Press.

Liu, J. (1973). How did a neo-Confucian School become the state orthodoxy? Philosophy East

and West, 23(4), 483-505.

Ray, K. (1984). Education in medieval India. Delhi: B.R. Publishing Corporation.