Education is about relationships

Healthy relationships are about respect

As you may or may not have noticed, I took an unannounced hiatus during the last few months of 2021. In that time there was lots to talk about when it comes to children’s rights, which means I’ve got a backlog of posts to write. Now that we’re into a new year, I’ll be making a routine of this project, so expect something every two weeks or so. To receive future posts directly to your inbox, just subscribe (it’s free!).

Back in December, I attended an online event organized by Education Canada called “How will we teach in a (post)-pandemic Canada?”. I spent much of the time nodding along to the panelists’ and attendees’ various comments and questions, in particular those that focused on the relational aspects of education and on student agency. In my research, I keep coming back to the idea that education in a democracy is about preparing future generations for life in society through the example of caring, respectful relationships.

As 2022 begins, however, the relational space of education continues to be in disarray as a result of the (short-term?) closure of schools to in-person learning in Ontario and Québec, with exceptions for students who might require special education supports to access their education. Since the beginning of the pandemic, much has been written about ensuring the right to education, the impact of school disruption on children, parents and educators, and the political implications of government decisions to close schools. What I want to talk about is children’s role in decisions about their education.

Since I’m a children’s rights scholar-in-training, I can’t help but return the to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (child-friendly PDF). The aims of education under the Convention include ensuring that children learn to how to live a “responsible life in a free society” (article 29(1)(d)). Children also have a right to be heard in all decisions that affect them and to have decisions made in their best interests. Of course, in the context of a public health emergency, children’s rights have to be balanced against broader societal interests. It seems to me, however, that little effort has been made to ask children how they think governments and communities might best strike this balance.

A big part of this failure to listen to children is the lack of any mechanisms for engaging meaningfully with children. Canada ratified the Convention in 1991 and, under various legal principles, Canadian law is presumed to be generally compliant with the Convention. This means that, in theory, Canada should have mechanisms in place to seek children’s input into policymaking, including in times of emergency. However, with the exception perhaps of child and youth advocates and certain civil society organizations, there is little room in public policy discussions for direct engagement with children’s views and best interests.

Since the law is generally of little help when it comes to treating children respectfully, it’s up to those of us who have direct relationships with children to make sure children are heard. In an excellent book I finished reading this week, the authors refer to the notion of “ethics of care” as being an important part of ensuring rights are respected in everyday life. In the education context, an ethics of care would imply respecting children as thinking and feeling human beings who have meaningful insight on how they might best be educated.

As a 12-year-old said in an opinion piece on the most recent school disruptions, “All I ask for is that we as children share with others and they in turn listen.” Treating children with the respect they deserve as members of our communities might encourage responses to crises that better reflect and preserve the relationships that are the bedrock of education, and of a healthy democratic society more generally.