Building empathy and power in English
A love letter to reading and writing
“We can’t simultaneously want our children to create a better world and shame or pathologise those that challenge systems”
- Esther Jones
My love of maths is well documented, but I also have another longer, more enduring love for English.
More specifically, reading, which over my lifetime has been a salve, a solace, a companion, a mirror; a portal to new worlds, a criticiser of old thinking; and inspiration for seeing beauty in the everyday.
I love people, I think they’re fascinating. I watch and discern patterns. I see things that most people don’t notice.
I apply that same approach to reading fiction - a way to study people, while at the same time, reflecting on my own values, and biases.
Deep empathy in reading
Reading fiction is an exercise in deep empathy. It is one of the few times we voluntarily put ourselves in someone else’s shoes and see the world from their perspective.
The fictive packaging encourages people to receive truths they may be unwilling to hear directly.
Fiction is also deeply personal - you cannot but help consider yourself in response to the text - your thoughts, your values, and your position relative to others.
Close reading skills are a must, but equally as important is the need for greater compassion and empathy, particularly given reports that “sexism, sexual harassment and misogyny are rife in Australian schools”.
Increasingly there is a call for “a national response to anti-social language and behaviours in schools”, which I would welcome. But one thing we can do immediately (and in tandem), is encourage the reading of fiction.
Reading fiction is often viewed as a frivolous pastime where you read what brings you pleasure. But this framing limits the potential to develop reading resilience: to challenge and read difficult things; to consider diverse perspectives; to engage in diverse genres, writing styles and forms. If we insist on reading only things we know we’ll enjoy, we reinforce self-referential algorithmic bubbles and make no progress towards good change.
Strong readers are also a pre-requisite for strong writers.
Wielding the power of words
“Writing is different. Writing is life affirming. It is quiet and it comes from my soul. Speaking about racism relives the experience, but writing sets me free”
- Stan Grant
As a teen I had no words, no vehicle to express my anger which boiled up through my throat and sat tangled behind my back molars.
So during my adolescence I used the power of books for insight and healing; to dampen that bile so I didn’t choke.
It wasn’t until university that I learnt the power of words to untangle, to strengthen, and to speak back to power. To channel that anger into coherent thoughts, words and expression.
The first untangling came through Antonio Gramsci’s “hegemony” which:
“denotes the concealed domination of all the positions of institutional power and influence by members of just one class”1
This “passive” power explained a disquieting feeling I had regarding the coercive demands of ideology, particularly in mass media.
Studying English is the ability to make sense of words; to untangle and reveal; to persuade and inform; to advocate for, and right wrongs.
Words have started and ended wars; joined dynasties and families.
Words harm and heal; celebrate and commiserate.
Our responsibility as educators is to listen when students finally find their words - hard as they may be to hear.
Words of students
I work regularly with angry teens, sad teens; misunderstood, disengaged and disempowered teens. I see myself in them - full of fire and hurt; with so much to say, but no words to say it.
My greatest challenge is encouraging students to consider the utility of English; how they can use it to bring dignity, respect and good change for themselves and their loved ones.
That yes, English is: Shakespeare, Twain, Wilde, Chaucer; but it’s also Wright, Achebe, Rushdie, and Morrison. To convince them that they have a place in the pages, and can write between the spaces.
Students are drowned in the mechanics of spelling, grammar, and figurative language features; but I’m not sure how well educators highlight the macro view of how these features contribute to constructing a text, driving a particular ideology; and thus student’s potential to deconstruct that text and speak back to power.
Power plays out daily in schools, and it is something that students understand intuitively. They are highly sensitised to sleights, both real and perceived.
So to place power in their hands, to wield words which break open new ways of thinking and doing, is a goal that we should all support.
As always, subscribers can comment below or you can email me at teacheraideqld@gmail.com. Let me know what you’re reading!