Over the time I have worked in literacy, the amazing power
of that Piece of Paper continues to
baffle me. I live in a small community where I often get to know people long
before I see them as students. I see their busy lives and their
accomplishments, their strengths and skills. Then that same person becomes a
student and asks me to go stand in a quiet hallway with them and they whisper
that they do not want anyone to know they do not have their Grade 12. In our
small college campus there are folks working to get their Grade 12 diploma, but
there are others simply working to get a higher English mark or meet the
biology pre-requisite. I do not even pay attention to whether or not they hold
a Grade 12. Yes it is in their file, but it is not what I consider when I am
working with them. After all, they may have missed by one credit or several; it
could be five or twenty-five years ago. But for the person without the piece of
paper, it is now and always in their face, no matter how many years have
passed.
There are a couple of truths around the Piece of Paper.
Truth #1: Many adults without a Grade 12 diploma believe
they are alone, stupid, and lesser because they did not complete Grade 12 with
their peers.
Truth #2: It is a piece of paper that opens doors to
employment and further education.
Truth #3: It is used inappropriately as a gatekeeper for
jobs and education programs. It has little correlation to skills or
competencies or potential to learn things.
Truth #4: People who do not complete their Grade 12 as a teenager have a broad range of reasons from learning disabilities to extended health absences to boredom to lack of family support to simply not “fitting” the system.
For many of us, the Piece of Paper is/was a given. We got it
years ago, assume almost everyone else did also, and seldom even think about
who does or does not have it. And that is interesting in itself. We often do
not see our own advantages or privilege. Privilege is not earned, rather it is
something given to some people and not others. And power and privilege often
combine forces.
My marks were nothing to brag about, but my 70 something
percent average, at the time I graduated, was more than enough to earn university
entrance. I knew for me, I had to stay in school. But then I had been raised to
believe that school lasted a lot more than 12 years; my much older siblings
were not yet completed their post-secondary adventures. My dad was a teacher,
principal and curriculum writer. My dad would never consider teaching me,
instead he trusted completely the paid professionals who had me on their class
lists; he fully trusted the system. I had no idea at the time that so much of
what I experienced in the school system was based in Educational Privilege.
Want to know where you stand? Take this quiz.
Educational Privilege Questionnaire
- Did
your family believe in what the school was trying to achieve?
- Did
the school culture fit with your family’s culture?
- Did
your family offer homework support and help with school problems?
- Did
you make it through school without failing a grade?
- Did
your family plan events around school and make school attendance a
priority?
- Did
your family read at home? Were there books available? Did you visit the
library with your family?
- Was
learning and education valued in your home? Would you describe your home
life as having a “culture of learning”, not necessarily books but through
other means – stories, demonstrations?
- Were
you expected to graduate?
- Are
the majority of your immediate and extended family high school graduates?
- Did
your parents graduate? Did your parents attend post-secondary school?
- Were
you expected to attend some form of post-secondary educational
institution?
- If you
did attend post-secondary education, was your family able to offer
financial support?
- Compared
with the other members of your family, what position do you hold in
relation to formal education – most, least, same?
How many “yeses” do you have out of 12? Many people can
answer all with yes. And yet, I have met several people, who would answer yes
to three or fewer of these questions. Almost always they did not complete as a
teenager and these questions help them realize what they were up against and
why their families felt unable or unwilling to support their efforts. I have
heard stories about girls who were expected to quit school in grade 10 to take
care of the younger siblings and about grandfathers who disallowed their grandchild
from returning to school after the grandfather disagreed with the interpretation
of “historic facts” in a social studies textbook.
While we cannot change this privilege bias for the adults
who are now finished with the K-12 system, we can make a difference for the
current children and families. Many family literacy programs and schools are working
to change some of those privilege answers to “yes”, to level the playing field
and to reflect local community diversity in terms of parent’s education levels,
culture, race, socioeconomic status and religion.
For the adults who do complete their Grade 12, whether they
define that as the GED, or the adult graduation certificate, or a regular Grade
12, they are always blindingly thrilled, ecstatic, relieved and proud. For some
it is confirmation that they can succeed in education and they begin their
happy and sometimes meteoric flight on further educational journeys and
successes. Some have not taken this step until they are senior citizens, but
the excitement is always there. Sometimes it is a stepping stone to a new,
previously unattainable future, other times it is the end. It is always
“something I should have done sooner”.
And now, during our present educational reform, it appears
that the Grade 12 Graduation Diploma will remain, in some form; the magical
piece of paper will continue to give or take unworthy power over lives for
decades to come.