Foucault, Education, and Me

Pistol-whipping, smoking marijuana, engaging in sexual relations, and threatening the very well-being of others take place in this home away from home. Learning, teaching, thinking, creating, negotiating, and navigating social interactions take place as well. What makes it possible that actions and behaviors as varied as those mentioned in the former and the latter would occur under the same “public” roof? In this paper I will examine how Foucault’s philosophy on discipline and punishment relates to my experience with discipline in schools. I have chosen to structure this paper based on sections of Discipline and Punishment.

“Punishment”

While punishment is not –should not—be part of a school system, discipline has its place, and there is a “no vacancy” sign on the door. A regular part of many students’ and teachers’ school days are affected either directly or indirectly by incidents leading to one form of discipline or another. The discipline strategies used where I have worked are wide ranging. However, the underlying purposes of the disciplines of choice are always consistent.

Undoubtedly, schools serve to educate in an academic sense. They also provide a stage for repeated dress-rehearsals of how individuals should be as productive members of society. From early grades through high school, students are informed and reminded of procedures, rules, and regulations. These concepts are the focus of semester long courses in “Classroom Management,” in teacher education programs.

As educators, it is presumed that we not only provide students with content, but that we train them to be successful. This, of course, can be interpreted as very subjective. Whose definition of success are we using? Will our definition apply and/or be accepted by all groups which comprise the students we teach? In my experience, these questions are not ever addressed. The focus is on controlling behavior and attitude, regardless of personal differences and experiences.

A school’s role seems to, as Foucault states, adjust the mechanisms of power that frame the everyday lives of individuals; an adaptation and a refinement of the machinery that assumes responsibility for and places under surveillance their everyday behavior, their identity, their activity, their apparently unimportant gestures; another policy for that multiplicity of bodies and forces that constitutes a population. (77-78)

What has to be arranged and calculated are the return effects of punishment [discipline] on the punishing [disciplining] authority and the power that it claims to exercise. (91) In essence, do teachers’ and schools’ discipline policies make sense? Do they achieve desired effects for all parties (authorities [teachers and administrators], disciplined students, and other students)? That idea that one must punish [discipline] exactly enough to prevent repetition (93) is economically sound according to Foucault’s framework of humanity as it should apply to punishment. (92)

The major rules which illustrate the power to punish (94-101) are similar in many respects to the rules students encounter in school handbooks and in classrooms. Deterring undesirable behavior, consistently applying consequences, publicly displaying rules/policies, requiring proof of violations, and clearly stating consequences for infractions are expected practice. However, as Foucault asserts, there are limitations with this semio-technique of punishments. (103) Other methods must be applied in order to assure order. Here, specifically Foucault addresses discipline as opposed to punishment.

Discipline

The focus of exerting power addresses physical considerations to which I had not previously given much attention. Based on my understanding of Foucault, enforcing discipline incorporates the management of bodies and bodies in space. Envisioning classrooms, at both the elementary and secondary levels, it is now clear how bodies are manipulated for the purposes of discipline.

School districts I have worked in across the country appear to operate in a Foucauldian framework with respect to creating and maintaining discipline. In early grades, students stand on spots, line up, hold hands through hallways, and are assigned to designated areas to eat/work/rest. In later grades, students have assigned seats in rows at separate desks (often established based on what makes for easiest teacher surveillance and navigation), they must be granted permission to enter/leave areas of the school, and they often have to wear an identification on some part of the body.

This scenario bears a striking resemblance to the fortress (and later factory) Foucault describes, down to the description of the bell that announces the resumption of work has rung. (142) In effect, each of the pupils will have his place assigned to him and none of them will leave it or change it except on the order or with consent of the school inspector. (147) Bodies are trained and conditioned as to when they can eat, work, move, and tend to bodily functions.

This is not the only manner in which bodies are controlled. The powers that be—for intents and purposes of this paper, teachers and administrators—attempt to manipulate the ways in which bodies interact with each other and other objects. It is this control which transforms students’ bodies into docile bodies, arranged at the hand of the superpower authority figure. The concept of the correlation between body and the gesture is grounded in carrying out tasks with efficiency and speed. (152) It can dictate the way a student holds a pen, or sits in a chair. We see this discipline in many activities, including practicing handwriting, keyboarding, presenting, and play sports.

According to Foucault, not only are gestures subject to discipline, but so is the concept of efficiency and time use. The theory of exhaustive use incorporates ordered activities, and rhythms imposed by signals, whistles in an effort to ensure that students learn as efficiently as possible. (154) As far back as I can recall, my teacher training program, and later my early years of teaching, were guided by the “teach bell to bell” philosophy. Instructors and administrators used this as their mantra. If teachers were not performing in this capacity, they were not performing productively. Students and teachers were expected to let external switches guide their every action and behavior. At times, I felt conflicted with the “bell to bell” mentality. Was it in the best interest of my students? Did it mean that learning/teaching was unproductive if it was not within the confines of the rhythmic order of things?

I have often reflected on the idea that the structured, segmented days that are typical in most high schools, are not necessarily beneficial to the students served and teachers serving. A school day that is broken into six different periods of time to focus on six distinct content areas is, in many respects, far too fragmented of an educational experience, to be meaningful. In this environment, they are trained not to be scholars, but to be disciplined. A more holistic, theme or project-based approach to learning would seem to better flow with the rhythm of life, having time to create connections, interdependence, and relevance.

I would contend that a major focus—the hidden agenda--in schools is on training. In the training process, an element of individuality is lost, and power is imposed. The workshop, the school, the army were subject to a whole micro-penality of time (latenesses, absences, interruptions of tasks), of activity (inattention, negligence, lack of zeal), of behavior (impoliteness, disobedience), of speech (idle chatter, insolence), of the body (incorrect attitudes, irregular gestures, lack of cleanliness), of sexuality (impurity, indecency). (178)

With these aspects of life put under the microscope, who has time to teach, learn, or recognize what is really important? In Your Average Nigga Performing Race Literacy and Masculinity, Vershawn Ashanti Young states that every student and teacher in the building knew that no students could outshine him academically. He won oratory and science contests, and performed at high levels in reading and math. However, upon inquiring to a teacher about his educational preparation he is sent to the principal.

The principal says that he has an attitude problem and that she would have to work with him before he went to high school (31). Who really has the problem? Young is initially banished from the school, and later relegated to staying in the principal’s office. Foucauldian to the point. Young is now restricted to a specific physical space, and under the direct observation of the principal. This is her attempt of the first stage in the ‘formalization’ of the individual within power relations. (190)

Panoptican and Chillin’ with the Principal

‘Formalization’ can only begin to take place when the powers that be—educators and administrators, in this case—have constructed a community in which the actions of every student are made under the watchful gaze of authority. The architecture of many schools lends itself well to this observation. Long hallways extending from one end of the building to another, classrooms in a row as cells in a prison, open stairways, open dining halls, and restrooms which provide minimal privacy.

Many times I’ve thought about how students relinquish some of their freedom the moment they cross the threshold of the school. There is an unspoken bargain (for whom?) that in exchange for a formal education, they will be placed under surveillance, under control of the powers that be. In schools, the Panopticon functions, as in prisons, to carry out experiments, to alter behavior, to train or correct individuals. (203)

In more than ten years of serving in public school systems, I noticed that the same individuals were consistently referred for their behavior. They were in detention, or in-school suspension more than they were in their classrooms. Why? There was no effort to engage them in a process of self-exploration, to get to the underlying roots of their behavior, in essence to rehabilitate them. This occurred due to a lack of time and resources, rather than because of ignorance regarding best practices.

In the last secondary school in which I taught, I had a student who I’ll call Jeff (because that is his name). Jeff had been kicked out of every required course, other than mine. He lacked the social skills and self-control that are necessary to function productively in public arenas. I encouraged Jeff to reflect on his actions, to provide suggestions for more appropriate behavior, and to think about the outcomes of his behavior. Jeff’s behavior in my class improved, however he was still engaging in negative behaviors throughout the school building and the day.

I sought advice/assistance from other school staff members to help with his behavior. I approached one of the school administrators, to discuss options for Jeff. Although receptive to my inquiry, I could feel the chill in the air. After dismissing my claims that there were great opportunities for reform with Jeff (and others in similar situations), I was told that I could do whatever I wanted because the administration had its eye on Jeff. Although the surveillance and control component of a Panopticon seemed to be securely in place, the rehabilitation component was nonexistent.

On the contrary, in the last school in which I taught in New York City , surveillance, control, and rehabilitation were packaged in a nice little bundle. Panopticon provided a way of defining power relations in terms of the everyday life on men, or young adults, in this case. (205) Those students labeled as the “worst” behaved were treated in a distinctly different manner than Jeff. These students were “kept” in the principal’s office. They were free to roam the periphery, but found no use. In her office they did their work, watched movies, and listened to music. They were no longer causing havoc in classrooms and around the school, but surely this was not a viable option.

This Panopticon schema (205) provided the administrators a privileged place for experiments [on men], and for analyzing with complete certainty the transformations that may be obtained from them. (204) It was a type of location of bodies in space, of distributions of individuals in relation to one another, of hierarchical organization, of dispositions of channels of power, of definition of the instruments and modes of intervention of power. (205)They had created Panopticon with a twist; Panopticon operating with a functional mechanism that must improve the exercise of power by making it lighter, more rapid, more effective, a design of subtle coercion for society to come. (209) Many staff members, myself included, were unaware of the process that was taking place in this instance.

Having read and pondered Discipline and Punishment over many hours, I am now aware that variations of Panopticon are applied in different school settings, based on the needs of those in power. In the second of the scenarios referred to above, discipline was implemented by regulating movement; it clear[ed] confusion; it dissipate[d] compact groupings of individuals wandering about the [school] in unpredictable ways; it establishe[d] calculated distributions. It master[ed] all the forces that are formed from the very constitution of an organized multiplicity; it neutralize[d] the effects of counter-power that spring from them and from which form a resistance to the power that wishe[d] to dominate it: agitations, revolts, spontaneous organizations, coalitions…(219)

I know that I am not yet at the end of the tunnel, but I am beginning to see the light. How wonderful to have a framework in which to understand some of the school practices that I have often pondered. Foucault has assisted me in better understanding how various types of discipline are implemented, and how this works/or doesn’t, for the individuals affected and society, in general.

Bibliography

Foucault, Michel. (1995).Discipline and Punishment. New York: Vintage Books.

Young, Vershawn A. (2007). Your Average Nigga Performing Race Literacy and Masculinity. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.