Agency and training for citizenship

Aside from the focus upon academic achievements, which will be discussed in the next section, schools are now recognised as sites where children learn about citizenship, social responsibility and democratic ideals (Sokol et al., 2015). As will be discussed more fully in Chapter 7, citizenship can mean different things, ranging from inhabiting a particular place to participating fully in the social and political life of a society; but it is typically the latter form of citizenship to which school curricula on citizenship refer. For example, a charter on education for democratic citizenship and human rights education was adopted by the 47 member states of the Council of Europe (2010). In that charter, education for democratic citizenship was defined as:

education, training, awareness raising, information, practices and activities which aim, by equipping learners with knowledge, skills and understanding and developing their attitudes and behaviour, to empower them to exercise and defend their democratic rights and responsibilities in society, to value diversity and to play an active part in democratic life, with a view to the promotion and protection of democracy and the rule of law.

(P- 7)

UNESCO has also identified global citizenship education as one of its sustainable goals for education to be achieved by 2030. While acknowledging that the definition of citizenship is contested, within their context global citizenship education is defined as aiming to 'empower learners to engage and assume active roles, both locally and globally, to face and resolve global challenges and ultimately to become proactive contributors to a more just, peaceful, tolerant, inclusive and secure and sustainable world’ (UNESCO, 2013, p. 4).

Training for citizenship is intimately tied up with how children’s agency is considered within the school setting. Dympna Devine (2002, 2003) has noted that evolving notions of citizenship demand an acknowledgement of children’s capacities for agency and participation, and this requires challenging the structural positioning of children and adults within school (and within society as a whole). Thus, education into citizenship must account for dynamics of power and control which comprise adult-child relations within the school setting. She identifies several structures comprising the education system and school, and these structures are instantiated in the everyday transactions between children and teachers in school. For example, structures of domination are brought to life through the control which teachers exercise over children, as well as how they control how space and time in school are utilised. Devine’s research examined primary school children’s and teachers’ experiences of school and how children’s agency and power are constrained and enabled in the school setting. Children were keenly aware of the vertical power hierarchy that existed between teachers and pupils in school; notwithstanding this, some children did believe that they were important because they were the basis upon which school existed in the first place. One boy noted: 'pupils are the most important cos we’re their job...you have to have pupils to teach’ (Devine, 2003, p. 13). Children’s time spent in school tended to be characterised by compliance and subordination on their part, and teachers used disciplinary procedures as necessary interventions to ensure learning occurred and children behaved in an appropriate manner. This was all evident through observations of teaching practice and the organisation of classroom space. Devine noted:

Seating arrangements in terms of both the layout of classroom furniture and the positioning of individual children were designed to control pupil interaction and facilitate learning. Considerations such as the degree of attentiveness of each child or their perceived ability level influenced the teachers' decision as to where children sat.

(p. 55)

Children also perceived that the organisation of their space and time in school was subject to high levels of control, and their discussion of this reflected competing discourses on children’s agency and positioning within the school. On the one hand, a paternalistic discourse defined children in terms of dependence and in need of control and guidance. These children accepted the teacher’s authority: rules helped learning, teachers/ principals owned the school, and without rules children would run wild and, according to one girl, ‘end up in hospital’ (p. 75). In school, being a child was contrasted with being an adult; the former was equated with being constrained and not taken seriously, while the latter was equated with being the ‘boss’ with the right to behave and do as one wishes. On the other hand, a competing discourse argued for children to have a voice in making rules in school. For example, children bemoaned the fact that they were not consulted over the content of the curriculum or over the timetable, and that most of what they learned was focused on the adult world of work and learning, rather than meeting their own agenda of having fun, playing and spending time with peers.

While children's priorities centred around interacting with peers and having fun, schools are structured around goals and values which are ultimately geared towards the adult world of work and productivity. Devine (2003) argues that the disempowerment of children in school settings is legitimised by the connection between children's work in school and economic prosperity. Children are necessarily curtailed in compulsory schooling because what happens in school is all geared towards a greater good: preparing children to be productive and contribute back to society. Children themselves also understand this: they distinguished between proper subjects such as English and mathematics and more enjoyable subjects such as art, music and physical education; they accepted teacher authority and control as necessary in order to get a good education, which was important for future life success. However, Devine further noted the infiltration of a child-centred discourse, which softened the typical authoritarian approach to schooling and emphasised the teachers’ sensitivity to children’s needs. Even within this discourse, it was children’s need for order and consistency, discipline and direction that was emphasised, rather than their right to participate and make decisions. Indeed, teachers often dismissed children’s decisionmaking, viewing it as a threat to their authority.

Although Devine’s work is focused upon children in primary school in Ireland, research based in other countries has similarly revealed that traditional power structures remain in place in schools, despite educational legislation and curricula increasingly emphasising the importance of student agency, empowerment and 'voice’ in school. According to Taylor and Robinson (2009), 'student voice’ can happen at the level of the institution, where practices seek to impact upon the structure of schools, through for example student councils, students as governors or students sitting in on appointment panels. At the classroom level, student voice is instantiated through pedagogical practices which seek to privilege students’ perspectives and conceptualise students as producers of knowledge. Overall, the aim is to 'increase students’ representation at, and participation in, processes and practices from which they have historically been excluded’ (p. 162). However, student voice projects are fraught with challenges: those who become active in student voice projects are often the confident and articulate students who are heavily invested in their education, while the voices of children and young people who do not reflect the dominant discourse and academic aspirations of their school are marginalised and silenced (McIntyre, Pedder & Rudduck, 2005). These authors found that teachers’ responses to students’ ideas for change in the classroom were selective and the suggestions that were chosen tended to be those that reinforced or extended teachers’ existing practices. Thus, inadvertently student voice work may promote, maintain and reproduce existing hierarchies and inequalities. Similarly, Keddie (2015) has argued that student voice initiatives can be undermined when matters of authenticity, inclusion and power are not appropriately considered, and 'palatable' student voices tend to be privileged.

Using the construct of student influence, in contrast to student voice, Bjarnadôttir and Geirsdottir’s (2018) research revealed students’ lack of a sense of agency within the school context. Across nine secondary schools in Iceland, the majority of students had not even considered the possibility of influencing their education or believed they had no opportunities to influence their education. Students positioned themselves at a low level on the hierarchy of influence and even recognised that teachers were constrained in the extent to which they could exert influence, as teachers were themselves regulated to strictly adhere to the syllabus. Moreover, students did not recognise their student councils as a legitimate process for influence: students did not use them, nor perceive it as part of their school culture to be given opportunities to exercise agency. These authors argue that formal channels established within the schools (such as school councils) did not seem to be organised with the goal of challenging existing power structures or effecting change; instead they were merely tokenistic. Indeed, tokenism and limited democratic engagement in decision-making are oft-cited features of youths’ perceptions of student councils (Keogh & Whyte, 2005; Fleming, 2015). And even when democratic decision-making is an explicit and declared goal within a school, it often occurs in a piecemeal fashion and is very much dependent upon individual teachers. Thornberg and Elvstrand (2012, p. 47) note that ‘compliance with authority rather than deliberative democratic participation is still an inherent part of the hidden curriculum’. Not only do children tend to have little say, but they also doubt their own ability to make decisions pertaining to their education: they perceive themselves as a group of incompetent decision-makers who just want to ‘fun things’ or ‘take the easy way’ (p. 49). They trust that their teachers are better positioned to make sensible decisions. Thus, as was the case with Devine’s work, the discourse of autocratism and paternalisim is not only upheld by the teachers but, as a result of schooling, is also upheld by the children themselves. Some of this adherence to dominant discourses is related to children’s age and social class. For example, as children move into adolescence, they tend to increasingly question the status quo and make greater demands to have their voices heard (Devine, 2003).

The general impression to emerge from research is that primary and secondary level schools are not sites where children experience many opportunities to exercise their agency. Children’s influence in schools is very limited. Attempts at encouraging student participation and decision-making, such as through student councils, have been beleaguered by accusations of tokenism and silencing of dissident voices. There are constant tensions between autocratic and democratic discourses, with the former inevitably winning out, as they align most closely with the primary purpose of schooling - to be prepared for life in the adult world of work. Citizenship training appears to be secondary: schools are not places to practise citizenship. However, in the words of Devine (2002, p. 317), ‘it is vital that education for citizenship is not confined to the curricular arena alone but is conducted within a framework which acknowledges children’s position as actual citizens rather than as potential citizens in the making’. Thornburg and Elvestrand similarly note that there is a hidden curriculum that permeates everyday school life that runs counter to the formal intention of democratic citizenship. That is not to say that children never have an opportunity to engage as agents in the school setting. They do: they engage in many forms of resistance and non-compliance is common, but rarely is this celebrated as evidence of them participating as citizens. There have been several documented examples of participatory projects that have engaged students at deep levels (see Charteris & Smardon, 2019 for a review). However, these are exceptions rather than the rule. Furthermore, research on children’s and adolescents’ perspectives reveals that they do not perceive themselves as agentic in the school context.

Studies on school climate also reveal the potential positive effects that can accrue as a result of students’ participation and feeling agentic in the life of the school. The concept of school climate has been variously defined in the literature; one typical definition is ‘the quality and character of school life’ (Cohen et al., 2009, p. 10). In a review of what makes a school climate positive or negative, the strength of social ties among students themselves, as well as between teachers and students, was central, and shared decisionmaking and collaboration between teachers and students was a key determinant of strong social ties (Kutsyuruba, Kinger & Hussain, 2015). Shared decision-making resulted in improved connectedness to the school, which in turn had positive effects on students’ well-being and academic achievement (Cohen et al., 2009). Thus, giving children a sense of agency is good for schools and for student success. However, if making schools a context where children’s agency is enabled is a stated goal of the education system, then traditional dynamics of power and hegemonic discourses of performance and standards will need to be addressed. We suggest that this is not likely to occur: schools and the performance of its teachers and students are increasingly subject to scrutiny, using specific metrics such as exam performance, early school leaving, entry into college, and so on. It is to these issues that attention now turns.