1
Introduction
âFreedomâ is a problematic term. There is a Billy Bragg song that we particularly like that points out that a lot of âlibertiesâ have been taken in the name of âfreedomâ. We agree. In the field of education the concept of âFree Schoolsâ has gained popularity in Sweden, in the United States (known there as âCharter Schoolsâ) and more recently in the UK. Such schools may be set up under the auspices of parents, teachers, charities and businesses. Although they need government approval to operate, and are still subject to inspections, they are âfreeâ to teach according to whatever model or educational paradigm they have adopted. However, just whose interests are served by this âfreedomâ is not always clear and the increasing involvement of entrepreneurs in education is a cause for concern. The notion that market âfreedomâ will produce better schools and stronger outcomes for students is an idea that has become popular with many governments; yet the evidence presented in this book, as in others, indicates that such market-driven educational âfreedomâ regularly disadvantages some of the most marginalized young people in the Global North. For those young people who may lack the social and economic capital to successfully navigate a competitive society premised on âfreedom of choiceâ, the accumulated consequences may be devastating, leaving them with little capacity to change their circumstances. Yet, in its utterance, the word âfreedomâ still captures a powerful sense of calling for a better world, a world where attempts to create a more socially just society are welcomed. Throughout this book the word appears almost forty times, sometimes in our own text and sometimes in the interview transcripts. We critique it when it appears in neo-liberal rhetoric and yet understand its pulling power when articulated by students and teachers who have felt oppressed by structures within, as well as outside, schools. By subscribing to an alternative vision of schooling, one that recognizes that the yearning to be free is best satisfied when aligned with a concern for social justice, we hope that we can give voice to some of the concerns articulated by young people and teachers who have rejected various oppressive structures, ironically constructed in the name of freedom.
This book is partly born out of frustration with mainstream schooling. We are highly committed to a free public education system that caters to the needs of all young people. However, to date, we have seen little evidence that suggests such a system is on the horizon for much of the Global North. There are some exceptions, of course. Some would quite rightly point to the ways in which Finland has transformed its education system into one that is internationally recognized both for its high academic achievements and its commitment to equity (see for example, Sahlberg 2011; Reay 2012). Others would highlight the successes of the early childhood education project in the Italian city of Reggio Emilia (see for example, Fielding and Moss 2011, pp. 3â9) and the Citizen Schoolsâ project in the Brazilian district of Porto Alegre (Gvirtz and Minvielle 2009; Gandin and Apple 2012) as examples of systemic reform. These few cases, however, just exacerbate our frustrations as current trends, specifically in the locations with which we are most familiar, Australia and the United Kingdom (UK), but clearly existing elsewhere, appear to be taking the public education system in a completely different direction. For example, the ways in which an increasing focus on international and national test scores as a marker of a systemâs or a schoolâs quality working against the interests of the most marginalized students has been well documented (see for example, Lingard 2010; Apple 2010). Further, at the same time as we have seen government schools fearful of losing their competitive edge, we have also witnessed an increasing willingness to remove the ârubbishâ students (to paraphrase Bauman 2004) from schools; to mimic the authoritarianism and trappings of elite private schools; and to focus on a limited set of learnings at the expense of both creativity and student welfare. We have also observed highly committed teachers working in environments where their professional expertise is devalued, where divisions are created between teachers through performance pay debates, and where they feel pressured to be other than the kind of teacher they would like to be (Ball 2003).
Given our commitment to a public education system, it might seem strange that we have gone to schools operating outside of that system for solutions to some of the seemingly intractable social justice challenges plaguing government schools. However, we wanted to find schools that were resisting what Fielding and Moss (2011, p. 136), drawing on Unger (2004), have referred to as âthe dictatorship of no alternativeâ in order that we could demonstrate the ways in which schooling could be different. We therefore went in search of schools that were âirregularâ (Slee 2011) in the sense that they were not driven by dominant neo-liberal discourses, but rather were underpinned by a stated commitment to social justice. These philosophies recognized the disadvantages that some young people faced because of their material circumstances; the discrimination that some young people faced because of, for example, their gender, race or sexuality; and/or the lack of voice that young people had in mainstream schooling. We hope that in providing examples of such alternatives we can help to challenge the impossibility of constructing a public education system that is shaped by social justice principles.
In addition to frustration, this book is also born out of our admiration for those teachers and workers, whom we came to know via this research, who were operating in highly challenging circumstances with some of the most disenfranchised young people in Australia and the UK, and by the successes that they were having with (re)engaging these people in learning. At the same time we were also impressed by the teachers and workers in schools who were âliving their politicsâ through a commitment to democratic forms of school governance. But, most of all, we have felt compelled to tell the stories of the young people we have met, who have shared their aspirations for the future and willingly divulged their histories whilst articulating the challenges they have faced in terms of acquiring an education. Many of these young people were not wanted by the mainstream. Thus, one of the purposes of this book is to suggest the ways in which the mainstream can change so that such students feel wanted and listened to in ways that acknowledge the significant challenges that they face outside of school. As such we hope that this book can make a contribution to discussions about creating a public system that is genuinely inclusive and that is comprised of schools that reflect Fielding and Mossâs (2011) understanding of âa radical democratic common school premised not on uniformity but on diversity and pluralityâ (p. 113).
Thus, this book examines the lives of young people and workers (teachers and youth workers, along with a variety of people from disparate occupational backgrounds) who participate in education sites on the fringes of mainstream education. Found within such fringes are students who are marginalized by poverty and other difficult life circumstances; there are also middle-class students who have the resources to pay for an alternative education. This book provides insights into the educational practices that work to (re)engage young people such as these, who for a variety of reasons, have become disenchanted with traditional schooling practices. Whilst the sites considered in this book cater to a small section of the student population in the UK and Australia, they nonetheless provide salutatory lessons for policy regimes concerned with increasing rates of schooling completion. The data presented in this book indicate that achieving this goal will require mainstream schools to change. Evidence from the research points to the need for mainstream schools to support the material needs of students; to provide greater flexibility for students in terms of attendance, learning and assessment modes; and to engage in a re-envisioning of teacherâstudent relationships, including pedagogical relationships, and democratic modes of governance.
There is growing interest in alternative schooling models as responses to access and equity, and increasing the rates of schooling completion for marginalized young people. For instance, in the United States (US), the Federal Department of Education commissioned a nationwide study of alternative schools (Carver et al. 2010), and the John Gardner Center at Stanford University has set up a project on alternative schools in California; in Australia the Victorian and Australian Capital Territory (ACT) governments have both commissioned reports on alternative schooling (KPMG 2009; Mills and McGregor 2013); there is a significant debate in the UK and Sweden about free schools (Bunar 2008; Barker 2010; Leeder and Mabbett 2011; The Economist 2011); and a similar interest in alternative schooling models has been evident in Sweden, Germany, the Netherlands and Canada (see for example, Harper et al. 2011; also Ontario Ministry of Education 2010). We hope that this book makes a contribution to this burgeoning literature by looking at the ways in which alternative forms of schooling can inform practices in mainstream schools. In particular, we are especially concerned with those practices that offer a deeper understanding of how to create a more socially just education system. Drawing once more on the work of Fielding and Moss (2011) our intent, therefore, is to contribute to a âhopeful discussion of transformationâ (p. 135).
In participating in this discussion we are of the view that in their current form many schools, and the systems in which they are located, create and perpetuate inequalities and oppression. Indeed, at many levels, schools can be regarded as âviolentâ (Harber 2004) or âdamagingâ institutions (Francis and Mills 2012a). Such harm is brought about through practices that discriminate against the poor and against particular ethnic and racial groups and deny young people a voice in key decisions affecting their welfare. Such harm is both apparent in the present, for example, in relation to harassment and bullying, and in the long term, for instance, in terms of closing down future opportunities. In this book we suggest that the creation of a socially just schooling system would require alternative visions of how schools could work to address these injustices. Such visions, or âreal utopiasâ as Wright (2010) refers to them, should not be regarded as blueprints that hold âtrueâ in a range of locations and times. However, as Wright (2010) also argues, âwhat can be worked out are the core, organizing principles of alternatives to existing institutions, the principles that would guide the pragmatic trial-and-error task of institution buildingâ (p. 7).
In sketching an alternative vision of schooling from the lessons learnt from the schools in this research project, we draw on the work of feminist philosopher Nancy Fraser (1997, 2010), as have others in the field of education (see for example, Keddie 2012; Power 2012; Blackmore 2013). Fraser claims that there are three forms of injustice: economic, cultural and political. She argues that people experience economic injustice as maldistribution, where a lack of economic security affects a personâs life opportunities and futures. Addressing this injustice, she argues, requires a redistribution of resources. Cultural injustice grows out of misrecognition where peopleâs differences are not respected and where those from non-dominant cultures are expected to conform to cultural norms based on factors such as gender, sexuality, ethnicity and class. Addressing this injustice involves recognition and valuing of non-dominant cultures. Fraser argues that political injustice occurs when people experience misrepresentation; that is, when they are denied the opportunity to make justice claims relating to their experiences. Such injustices can be prevented, she suggests, when people have avenues through which to make representation on matters that impact upon them. These three forms of injustice, she recognizes, are not mutually exclusive and at times may conflict with one another. However, they do provide a useful framework for analyzing schooling practices and for engaging in an âinstitutional imagination in the spirit of realistic utopianismâ (Fraser 2010, p. 44). As we demonstrate throughout the book, and particularly in Chapter 6, the flexible learning schools, in varying degrees, had redistributive processes in place to ensure that studentsâ attendance was not affected by their financial circumstances, and along with the democratic schools had a significant focus on a positive recognition of difference, for example, in relation to gender or race, and/or sought to ensure that students and teachers were able to articulate concerns and shape key policy directions within their schools. Fraser argues that the struggle for social justice in all of these areas is to ensure âparity of participationâ (Fraser 2010). Many of the students we interviewed for this book indicated that their alternative schools enabled them to participate in the education process in a way that had previously been denied them. The barriers that prevented their participation in mainstream schools, for example, poverty, pregnancy, parenthood, cultural discrimination and lack of opportunities to air grievances, were all considered surmountable. As such, we hope that the schools in this study can contribute to a vision of what a socially just school might look like if it were framed via principles of redistribution, recognition and representation.
Research processes
For our project, we avoided schools structured around a particular educational ideology or religion (for example, Montessori, Steiner, Catholic, Islamic etc.) because the nature of the official practices and belief systems in such sites were officially pre-ordained. Further, our intent was to explore what our chosen sites might contribute to a âschool for allâ; we concur with Fielding and Moss (2011) who have indicated that it is not the place of such a âcommon schoolâ to inculcate a particular set of religious beliefs. We also rejected referral or behaviour-management centres because, rather than offering an âalternativeâ pathway, such places are often about âfixing upâ young people to return them to their original school. Pending further evidence, we are also sceptical about the contribution that Englandâs âfree schoolsâ will make to the provision of real alternatives to mainstream schooling options. Although government-funded, these new schools will be unpredictable in terms of their pedagogical practices and curriculum. Under the 2010 Academy Act, parents, charities, religious organizations and community organizations can apply for approval to set up a âfree schoolâ. They will not be obliged to conform to union agreements nor offer the national curriculum (Cabinet Office 2010). Additionally, there is ample evidence that the concept of English free schools has been derived from the Swedish model that allows companies to own and fund schools for profit (Hatcher 2011). This raises significant questions in respect to the types of schools that might evolve under this system. Indeed, free schools may be more authoritarian and output-focused than current mainstream schools and, depending on the level of unionism in these schools, staff may experience serious vulnerability around conditions and security of employment. Further, claims that the marketization of education, such as in English and Swedish free schools and in similarly structured Charter schools in the US, will contribute to better outcomes have been discounted by Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) research that shows
It is far from clear that quasi-market forces such as increased autonomy, competition and choice have led to improved outcomes, which would indicate that educational innovations are occurring. Evidence of improved academic outcomes is mixed, and improvements in academic performance may result from factors other than quasi-market incentive.
(Lubienski 2009, p. 27)
Whilst it may be theoretically possible to set up socially just schools within the free school paradigm, we have yet to see the evidence and therefore have omitted them from our considerations here. In this project we looked for alternative education sites that rejected deficit constructions of young people; and that had certain principles of social justice at their core. As such we were looking for schools that were not simply an alternative to be tolerated and accommodated within existing structures, but were what Raymond Williams (2005) would describe as âoppositionalâ, in that they could be used to encourage education systems to recognize that in relation to social justice most report cards would read âcould do betterâ.
In reference to social justice, we looked for principles articulated within the work of Nancy Fraser (1997, 2010) as discussed above. We concur with her standpoint that in determining socially just outcomes we must be sure that people are materially and economically secure; that we ârecognizeâ â respect â differences of, for example, gender, race, class, ethnicity, sexuality; and ensure that people are able to have political ârepresentationâ and make justice claims on their own behalf â i.e. have a voice. The âalternativeâ models of schooling that most closely fitted our intent were what have sometimes been referred to as âsecond chanceâ schools (Ross and Gray 2005; Gallagher 2011) and democratic schools (see Apple and Beane 1999a). In total, ten alternative education sites (six in Australia, four in the UK) were studied in order to explore the ways in which such schools attempted to meet the needs of young people for whom the mainstream schooling sector had become an unattractive option.
Initially we looked at âflexible learning centresâ or âflexi schoolsâ that were providing young people with âsecond-chance educationâ, or in the case of some of the young people we met â third, fourth, fifth, sixth chance education. Students who attended such sites often had challenging life circumstances related to poverty, family mobility, homelessness and early parenthood. Most had experienced significant conflict within previous schooling experiences. The age range of students was broad, ranging from early teens through to early twenties. Many were returning to education after a long absence. The flexible learning sites also provided varying amounts of counselling, assistance with finding accommodation and financial resources, and help with childcare and personal advocacy. They had a strong resemblance to what has been termed âfull-service schoolsâ (Dryfoos 1998; Dyson 2011), or schools that provide âwraparoundâ services that respond to the personal, social and economic needs of their students. Most of the young people interviewed who had rejected mainstream schooling were highly engaged with the learning opportunities provided to them at these sites. This engagement appeared to be linked to a combination of factors related to the curricula offered, pedagogical practices and staff relationships with young people, all underpinned by the philosophies shaping each centreâs organization.
The democratic processes that we found in the flexible learning centres subsequently led us into exploring the democratic schooling movement, both in Australia and abroad. We made contact with three English democratic schools, including the famous Summerhill1 (Neill 1970; Stronach and Piper 2009; Lucas 2011), although this school eventually declined to participate in the research due to the ill health of a key staff member. Subsequent visits to all three schools revealed processes of education that echoed those that we had encountered in the Australian flexi schools. Although the democratic movement is not as strong in Australia in secondary education as in Europe and the UK, on our return to Australia we located a high school in a major Australian city in the State of Victoria that shared a similar structure and ethos to those we had visited overseas. Whilst in the UK we also sought out two English flexi schools so that we could compare their experiences and processes with findings at our Australian sites.
Methodology
For this research we decided upon a qualitative methodology based upon interviews and observations. We compiled notes about each site and conducted interviews with a range of students and staff. In the analysis of our data we looked for thematic commonalities and contradictions across texts in order to assemble evidence ...