Let's Put the Power Back in "Empowerment"

"Empower girls!" "Empower your students!" "Empower! Empower! Empower!"

Calls for empowerment blare from all corners of activist, pedagogical and parenting spheres. Models for empowerment in activist movements, such as Y-Empower, abound. Paolo Friere created the idea of empowerment education.

But what does empowerment really look like in the daily lives of our students? The word empowerment has become almost a toss-away in the land of "raising awareness" and "fighting [insert any disease, disaster or issue here]." Those are important first steps, but without pushing beyond these ideas into the realm of practice, those declarations begin to ring hollow.

For instance, my students must create action plans to remedy issues they see in their local community, and I have asked them to reconsider any project that stops at awareness. I remind them that awareness is great, but unless we are asking people to put their awareness into action, nothing will ever change.

Empowerment looks to be going the way of awareness, becoming an easy catchphrase for change without serving as a catalyst for action. We can raise our fists and demand empowerment for and with any marginalized group, but until we put some kind of plan of action in place, empowerment will never come.

I was trained in the Friere and Socratic models of education that mirrored what was (20 years ago) my burgeoning feminist stance on the classroom: teacher’s desk off to the side, students in a circle, input on assignments, portfolio grading and so on. The more I think about empowerment in my classroom, the more I see it looking like two commitments I have always made to my students: voice and choice. 

First, voice. Pedagogies that focus on the oppressed, marginalized and othered often see their first call to action as consciousness raising (consider Steve Biko’s "black consciousness," the Black Lives Matter movement or feminist consciousness-raising groups). Primary to these groups—and their dedication to real-world action—is the finding of one’s voice in a world that has tried to silence it. Our classrooms can reflect that goal. Journaling, collaborating, singing, chanting, discussing: All are viable classroom practices that support students in learning to speak for themselves and how to speak alongside others. 

Second, choice. Choice means showing students that we trust them enough to make some decisions about their paths. I am not arguing for an open classroom that devolves into chaos! I am asking teachers to consider where there is room for student choice. Some ways I have been able to work within the strictures of curriculum and assessment include: 

• asking students to pick outside readings;

• encouraging students to focus on issues they care about;

• allowing students to find their own writing processes instead of asking them to all fit into the notecard-and-outline model;

• letting students decide how to approach an issue in the classroom or an extracurricular club.

If we don't provide opportunities for students to make decisions and take action inside the classroom, they won’t have a chance to build up that muscle and develop confidence in their own choices and actions outside the classroom. 

Many of us are already doing these things; it's important to ensure that we continue to take steps toward empowering our students in action instead of just in speech or writing. The next time we hear a student, colleague or group call for empowerment, let’s all work together to push toward the next step. Let's ask, "What does that look like?" For me, it looks like voice and choice. I am all for empowerment, as long as it goes beyond the word and into the world. 

Clemens is the associate professor of non-Western literatures at Kutztown University in Pennsylvania.