Decolonizing Process: Relational Pedagogy & Reciprocal Teaching in the Classroom
“I know that in this class you have been talking a lot about decolonizing. And I know you have been thinking a lot about this over the course of your quadmester. And I want to leave you with a question: how do you live reconciliation?”
This is the second time that my friend, Erin Strachan, has visited our class, and each time, she prompts us to think more deeply about equity work. What it means, who it’s for, how to work within systems of oppression. Today, she has offered us this question. And I begin think about what it means to live reconciliation as a white teacher.
I’ve been listening to Colinda Clyde’s podcast Anti-Racist Educator Reads and her conversations about equity and reconciliation go beyond content & curriculum.
In an episode featuring Pam Agawa on Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book Braiding Sweetgrass, Agawa and Clyne discuss the importance of reciprocal relationships and collaborative inquiry as an act of decolonizing (Clyne, Anti-Racist Educator Reads, Braiding Sweetgrass, Episode 1). They discuss how decolonizing education should be embedded in systems and leadership practices by opening spaces for collaborative inquiry and reciprocity:
“Build it with community in the beginning…Maybe we are just moving too quickly and have curriculum to check off, but we build the community inquiry without community present in the beginning and then expect that they will insert themselves in the process” (39.05).
While my role is not a leadership one within the system, I see the importance of beginning with community and embedding Indigenous ways of knowing into process as well as content. For example, beginning with consultations with community members before attempting to decolonizing course content by tacking a unit onto an already developed course.
I connect with another thread that runs through this episode and others about the role of relational pedagogy in fostering culturally safe spaces.
In an episode featuring Skye Bowen on the book Pushout: The Criminalization of Black Girls in Schools by Monique Morris, Bowen discusses how creating anti-oppressive spaces involves using “culturally responsive curriculum [centered on] relational pedagogy….” She asks teachers to consider the following possibility: “What if we could shift pedagogy (curriculum and practice) to centre on relationships, and relationship building being embedded into everything we are as teachers? (Bowen in Clyne, Antiracist Educator Reads, 43.55).
I think about what this means: to truly shift my pedagogy so that it is relational.
Maybe I need to take on the role of student and experience and expose my own vulnerability. To meet my students “heart to heart” (Agawa in Clyne). What would it be like for my students to take the driver’s seat? And for me to let them? Because how can I teach empathetically and work towards creating a space for students to feel comfortable being vulnerable if I am not vulnerable myself?
I decide to put myself out there. I ask students for feedback on a piece of unfinished writing.
Over the course of the quadmester, students have been using Peggy Silva’s the feedback protocol (Silva, 2007, Souhegan High School, NH) to give and receive feedback on weekly responses. The protocol asks students to identify writing dilemmas, read their unfinished work aloud, and then sit while group members provide warm and cool feedback.
While I have modelled the feedback protocol using an excerpt of my writing in the past, I have never used a piece of unfinished writing and truly come to the process as a writer looking for feedback.
The piece I am about to read is a also reflection on racism in education and I am a white teacher asking a group of students, some of whom are racialized, for feedback.
It’s hard to unpack the feelings of discomfort & whether I should lean in or get the heck out: Is this good discomfort? The restorative kind? Have I centered relationships so that students feel comfortable enough to give me feedback? Is it OK to ask students for feedback or is this putting them in an uncomfortable position? Is it my place to speak about racism in education? Should my students be writing this piece?
Then, there is the discomfort around showing them a piece of unfinished work: Am I framing things in a good way? Do I center my voice in the writing (and the feedback process) instead of focusing on the issue? Are there spelling mistakes or grammatical errors in this? Will they think less of me after I have shared this with them?…
And there is the discomfort about who will read this. The piece is a critique of systems of education, as well as the ways in which individual behaviours reinforce these as systems of oppression. So there’s that fear of critiquing an institution within which I work (and where I want to continue to work).
In this moment, I am terrified and unsure of whether this was the right decision.
I stumble through an introduction to my piece and unintentionally take a meandering approach to expressing my writing dilemmas.
One student takes on the role of facilitator and begins typing an abbreviated version of my dilemmas into the chat for student to refer to later.
- Am I centering my voice? This is supposed to be about decentering.
- Not sure about the organization. Think I need help here or maybe with transitional phrases.
- This is about the educational system. Is it gentle enough? Have I couched it enough?
After I bumble through my writing dilemmas, I am asked to read my writing aloud as students follow along.
My heart begins to race — my breathing is shallow and I can’t make it to a new sentence before taking an extra breath. The reading is choppy. I notice all kinds of mistakes and try to avoid the impulse to make a quick edit as I go — but succumb to replacing “in” with “to” and fixing spelling mistakes as I read, adding the occasional comment “Oops, that should be ‘to’ here…” before continuing.
After I’m finished, students take 10 long minutes to reread it in silence & to take notes on warm and cool feedback. This, quite honestly, feels like the longest 10 minutes of my life.
As I wait, I go over my writing and relive my embarrassment all over again. I notice every mistake (organizational flaws, repetition — how many times do I say “racial hierarchy” in this?? Word choice, sentence structure). I make some notes for myself, trying to engage in the process without self-judgement or worry that my students will lose all respect for me, and then try to settle into the waiting game & the discomfort.
After what seems like an eternity, the facilitator asks students for warm feedback. After the first few comments, I jump in and ask whether I can record their feedback realizing this is a learning opportunity (and I probably won’t remember it — feeling pretty nervous right about now).
Students give their permission and continue to share their warm feedback.
As students share, I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure why I am smiling — discomfort? Embarrassment? Validation? Probably. But after a few minutes, I am able to move beyond this and into a space beyond ego; a place of appreciation for the insights students are offering.
After the warm feedback, the facilitator moves on to cool feedback: “OK….and, is anyone brave enough to give cool feedback?”
I bite my tongue. Here we go.
But as the cool feedback flows, I take it in. It is insightful and thoughtful, it is constructive and specific. It prompts me to reflect more deeply on voice, audience, structure, and organization. I am also struck by how the feedback is provided. It is meaningful and reflects a confidence, but also a sensitivity to my vulnerability. I can feel the power of vulnerability and reciprocal relationships in building community.
Living reconciliation, for me, in this moment, means being vulnerable so I can truly understand what I am asking my students to do; it means positioning myself as a learner, not only to allow students to see me in all of my raw, unfiltered glory, but to decenter my position as teacher to make space for them. And in this instance, I recognize that fostering reciprocal relationships and focusing on decolonizing process is just as important as decolonizing content.
Draft:
To read the edited version of blog, click here: Escaping the White Matrix: Equity Work in Education 7
