Raising My Voice

Wow did I have a lot of thoughts on the first few readings for the course—far more than I anticipated, even knowing how likely it was that I’d totally nerd out over the content. Not counting massage school or the other course I’m currently enrolled in, this is my fourth attempt at formal adult learning since I graduated from college, yet the first course in which I feel at home. Thanks, UMass Boston (and Christin)! It feels good to be back.

It’s hard to even know where to start. I was very happy to see that “lack of voice” (with regard to women who shy away from adult learning) and other gender-related issues along with race, socioeconomic status, and the values enforced by one’s family of origin were all addressed in the readings—all factors have a significant impact on whether a person chooses to participate in adult learning or not. Education plays a huge role in so many social justice issues, both in the U.S. and around the world, and I feel that it cannot be overemphasized how important education is in improving one’s quality of life—not only in terms of creating job opportunities, but with regard to nutrition and healthcare, advocating for oneself when facing legal problems, and so on. That said, I found myself literally pumping my fist in the air and shouting “YES!” when reading the sections of the Merriam & Caffarella chapter that pointed out how “elitist and exclusionary” adult education is, and how it reinforces the (white, male, middle-to-upper-class, urban) status quo. Indeed, the assumption that all adults should pursue the highest possible level of education readily available to them is… well, elitist and exclusionary. Is it really so bad to be perfectly at peace with a blue-collar job and a high school diploma? Why do we assume the “individual deficit stance” when thinking about this group, as if there is no other reason for lack of participation than a lack of intelligence?

On a more immediate and personal level, all of this got me thinking about my own experience growing up in the K–12 setting, throughout college, and leading up to this moment in my learning trajectory. As a kid it never crossed my mind that not going to college was an option, nor did I consider taking any classes that weren’t the most challenging—that is, as someone who had been labeled “academically gifted,” I would have been a traitor to everyone around me had I chosen to take the “normal” learning path. However, in my southern, suburban, public school setting, I received quite a lot of mixed messages on what those “academically gifted” classes actually meant. Academic rigor and commitment were expected, but creativity and independence were discouraged. Speaking up too often or too confidently led to derision from my classmates and irritation from my teachers (something that, from where I stood, seemed heavily influenced by gender norms). My struggles in math and science not only crushed my idea of myself as being smart, but also reinforced the consistent message in the culture of my hometown (and the south in general) that girls shouldn’t (couldn’t?) get too involved in those subjects. I found myself losing my voice, losing my confidence and my self-expression, and shying away from anything that felt like it was too hard—much to my detriment, as the struggle continued when I went to college and proceeded to aggressively avoid anything that might challenge me. All this served to dramatically slow the process of figuring out What I Want to Be When I Grow Up.

And so here I am, a 32-year-old “adult learner” who doesn’t feel much like an adult, who panics at the first sign of potential failure, who is still sorting out whether she is meeting other people’s expectations or her own… and who will be trying desperately over the course of this term to figure out what any of this means for the field of Instructional Design and her place within it. I just hope all y’all reading this don’t get too burned out on my verbosity. (Good luck!)

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “Raising My Voice

  1. Hi Mandy; Your first post and blog post are very real. You do not seem afraid to express yourself now:) and that is a good thing! I can remember thinking that my looks were more important than being smart. I was rewarded for looking good as were many females back in the 80’s. Not sure it is very different today. I like to believe with my 9 year old today–that I am teaching her to work hard, be smart (own it), and looking good is not a bad thing, but it is not most important–that is for sure. We are heavily influenced by our time and culture.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I totally agree that it’s not much different today, although I sure hope that little girls these days are more comfortable being both, or neither, or just one, or whatever feels good to them! It sounds like you are doing a great job with your daughter. And it really did take me a long time to feel comfortable speaking up, though it may seem hard to imagine now. 😉 I still catch myself, in some environments (HBS definitely being one of them), biting my tongue and criticizing myself for it. It gets easier in some ways, but the tension is always there, at least for me–do you agree? (Thank you for commenting!!)

      Like

  2. Your enthusiasm is through the roof! It’s amazing! I also remember they mentioned the female perspective during the reading. It hit me like a ton of bricks when I realized, oh yes, all of these studies they are talking about were done on males. Yet in a female upbringing, the expectations they have throughout life can be so dramatically different in a stereotypical vision from societies point of view.

    I also never realized that when I was younger, “not going to college” was an option. To me some paths in life are just expected and predetermined. Similar to growing up as a male and being expected to be masculine, brave, and non-sensitive, I have to be expected to go to college, get a wife, kids, and retire. I prefer to choose my own path.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I have always wondered how things might have turned out differently had I taken a gap year, and I often regret not fighting for it. What would your parents have done, had you tried? Do they ever give you grief about going down your own path? Did the pressure to behave in a stereotypically male way have a big impact on you? (Feel free to ignore these questions if they’re too personal!)

      Like

      1. My mom was pretty good with giving me choices but strongly suggesting something good for me. Not going to college would not be supportive but I have other examples such as the path I took while I was in college. She would sometimes ask me if I wanted to go into medicine (nurse, doctor, pharmacy, etc.) She asked this multiple, multiple times in my life. But every time I told her I was not interested and the discussion was over and it all happened calmly. Not going to college probably would have turned into yelling. The stereotypical male thing had some impact but it wasn’t too bad. I just grew up with my mom and grandparents so I never had pressure from family. It was more of the kids I dealt with in school that might look at me strange if I didn’t want to play sports or if I didn’t understand why punching someone in the arm was not a playful thing to do. It made me question myself plenty of times but for the most part I stayed happy with being me and being unique and I liked standing out sometimes. It helped to do a lot of self reflection and learning how society worked and that it was okay not to conform to male characteristics.

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s