On Argumentation and Straddling the Middle

At the school board meeting Monday night (video here, starting at 1:23:50 for over an hour), an open letter the board recently sent out was discussed. I said nothing because everything had already been said by everyone, and I didn't think it necessary to just be one more to add my thanks. The letter is well-written, clear, and well-supported with links to all necessary documentation. Last night, our director, associate director, and many trustees gave beautiful speeches about inclusivity, and I was happy that the board took such a strong and decisive stance on the issue. 

To set the scene, a delegate came to the previous meeting with many concerns (video here starting at 13:16). 

It started with a survey the board put out that asked students from grade 4 and up about some general demographic information including their sexual identity and orientation. The survey was optional and questions could be skipped, but it was completed during class time with the teacher, and this parent (and he's not the only one) would have liked the opportunity to discuss some of the questions with his kids ahead of time and/or tell his kids to decline the survey altogether. He asked what the kids in class do who opt out while the rest of the class is taking the survey. He wanted more of a heads up about these types of questions. 

Had he stopped there, I would have been completely on board with his concerns. While I think we need education for all kids around all identities and orientations, I think some nine-year-old kids aren't quite ready to be asked directly about their identity and orientation. As a bisexual woman with a non-binary kid, I feel strongly that kids need to be aware of all types of people. I fully stand behind the current sex ed curriculum that provides education in a gradual manner. I want kids to see a variety of examples of types of lifestyles, so as they begin to learn about themselves, they see themselves represented in books and posters and adults around them. And some kids are thinking about these things in kindergarten. But I was also a really late bloomer, outside climbing trees and collecting bugs and completely oblivious to all that "Sam likes you" kind of stuff for a really, really long time. 

When I was in grade 7, a girl in my grade got pregnant, and I was gob-smacked! I understood the mechanics of it all, but I didn't think people were even kissing each other! Wha...?!!

So I can understand that a few parents wanted more of a heads up about this survey. And for this, although we did many things to alert parents, I think we should comment and perhaps reassure parents that we'll do even more next time. 

But the delegate went on. He read from a passage of The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, which his child accessed online possibly through--as we heard clarified Monday night--someone else's account. They are still looking into how that was accessed. The book is only available in print in high schools, but many books are accessible online now.

As the delegate spoke, I admit I questioned the likelihood of the scenario. The language of that book would be impenetrable to a little kid! But here's how it starts:

"Here is the house. It is green and white. It has a red door. It is very pretty. Here is the family, Mother, Father, Dick, and Jane live in the green-and-white-house. They are very happy."

It's a literary devise used in just the first few pages, later juxtaposed with the reality of a horrific home life for our main character, but it could appear, to a child, to be a book meant for them. And that might be a problem.

There is a general issue being touched on around who gets to decide at what age a book is appropriate: Teachers or parents? That line will be part of a conversation between us all that's necessarily ongoing as we try to find the ever-shifting boundary between the freedom to access literature and the protection from seeing a bit too much a bit too early. What that looks like changes back and forth as our culture changes. 

I was on the receiving end of some pointed words from a concerned parent years ago when I let my son and his friends, all in grade 6, watch Shaun of the Dead at our place. It's rated 18A in Ontario, but 13+ in Quebec, and isn't 12 close enough if the kids are all into zombies and horror?? Clearly I'm not the one who should be making these decisions, so I defer to group discussions that happen in board rooms like ours and specialists, like librarians (who are specialists in this field).

But the problem here isn't that someone out there thinks little ones should have eyes on this book. Nobody thinks this book is appropriate for littles, and the associate director clarified 13-14 as the minimum age of access. The problem is that one child actually did stumble on it online. So maybe we need to tighten up online access - or find out who signed out that book and gave their device to this man's child. But maybe, just maybe . . . he went looking for it to add fuel to his fire. That's not an accusation, but just one possibility. It's possible that it wasn't an accidental find. However, given the benefit of the doubt, if little kids are able to easily access books with mature themes online (which I'm still dubious about), then we can certainly look into tightening up how those books are accessed.

But there's more.

He called access to this book a form of child abuse, and that claim, on top of reading the most gruesome bits of Morrison's tragic book to us, could be the point at which a few trustees decided to pull the plug on further action. They didn't want to legitimize the delegate's presentation by acting on it.

What happens to a child who reads detailed descriptions of sexual assault at an impressionable age? Or watches a zom com? It doesn't meet the definition of abuse at all since there was no intention to mistreat the child or bring harm in any way. But, it's not nothing, and we need to aim to provide more protections in future. 

When my littlest first watched Lion King, we had to turn it off when Scar killed Mufasa because she was not about that! I had the same reaction to Bambi, storming out of the room and calling my parents monsters for showing me a cartoon playing on T.V. one rainy afternoon. Being upset by a story isn't the same as being traumatized, though, and kids are pretty good at turning off the show or putting down the book or just storming out if things get too intense. It can be upsetting when kids come across material they're not ready for, and we should aim to avoid it, but it's not abusive.

So some voted against having the board respond to the delegate at all, while others were concerned that the open letter is a public personal attack on that one delegate. But there's an important history adding to the fray of people, over the past year in particular, coming to meetings to read bits of books they don't like that are only in a handful of secondary schools. This most recent delegate is the straw that broke the camel's back, and I agree with the overwhelming majority who stood up as contributing to the letter: It was needed.

I should have said as much at the meeting, but it's hard (for me) to put all that in just a few words. So many people pounce on nuance: If you think X, then it means you also must thing Y and Z. But these things can all be true at once: that the open letter was excellent and much needed, that there's was an element of baiting going on from that delegate, that a survey went out without enough notification to parents, and that we need to check on our online resources to make sure mature content, often necessary for adolescents to find a connection in this world, is not accessible by little kids. 

Sometimes when I say that I agree with part of a claim, but there's also this other part to consider, then I get trolled from both sides of the aisle. But shouldn't we all aim to be somewhere in the middle on most issues? If we're really hearing one another, and can dig beneath the extra layers of garbage they added to the top of the argument in order to be more noticed, then sometimes there is a concern that needs to be dealt with. Yup, the delegate didn't do his best to express himself, and, in reading aloud to us, he aligned himself with previous delegates who overrode human rights codes in their discussion.

It wasn't a question being raised or a motion or anything to be voted on, so I mainly just listened to the discussion about the open letter. We weren't doing anything about it beyond expressing our positions. I don't really understand the procedure of that time in the meeting or what the expectations of me were; it felt like just sharing time. But there's so much I still don't quite get about these meetings!! The discussion started because a few trustees wanted to know how the board has the authority to post an open letter without trustees voting on it, and that was explained immediately: that one of the delegate's concern was transparency, that trustees voted in favour of responding to him, and that we've been bombarded for about a year with similar presentations that required a final, clear and open response. But then we all just kept talking about it. At least I hope that the 2SLGBTQIA+ students, families, and friends all felt more supported than ever after listening to the many lovely words of inclusivity. 

I could end this post here, but, of course, here's where I go on and on about how this connects to everything else.

This feeling of trying to straddle two sides isn't comfortable because I get hit from both sides then. It's not a common place to dwell, and I wonder if it's from having a philosophy background that makes me listen carefully for any truth claims in an argument. In the wise words of Daniel Dennett on how to compose a successful critical commentary:

1. You should attempt to re-express your target's position so clearly, vividly, and fairly that your target says, "Thanks, I wish I'd thought of putting it that way."
2. You should list any points of agreement, especially if they are not matters of general or widespread agreement.
3. You should mention anything you have learned from your target.
4. Only then are you permitted to say so much as a word of rebuttal or criticism.

I've been primed over the years to look for points of agreement before destroying an opponent! Sometimes it's near impossible, but this wasn't one of those times despite the parts at the end of his talk that were unexpectedly disturbing in the midst of a board meeting.

We can all take a lesson from this that how you speak affects how much people will listen, and we get much further without an accusatory tone or unsubstantiated claims of abuse, for sure. But we can also try to hear through the mess for any genuine concerns to be addressed. 

But it's also a real problem that it seems to be the case that any hint that you're not 100% on one side, means you're on the other team. How do we ever bridge the polarization that's happened in our politics and has more recently swept over our communities unless we start to try to find points of agreement first?

I talked about finding a middle ground for masks and got both sides angry because I didn't mandate them nor did I abolish them. And then I tried to better understand people who choose not to mask, which is the majority of people in schools and stores, because if we don't change some minds, we'll never get on top of this virus, but this move was seen as capitulating to anti-maskers. Despite how much I work to promote masks in social media, one post showing compassion for the other side is fodder for attack. But I'm also in this zone for other issues, like abortion. I'm 100% pro-choice, but I also acknowledge that it can be a very sad decision that involves a necessary grieving process. Some react to this with outrage, concerned that if we say anything negative about abortion, it'll give ammunition to the other side, and all our rights will be washed away. It's similar to conversations about vaccinations, which are almost always safe, but some people do have serious side-effects, which shouldn't be downplayed, but at the same time do get used to try to stop anyone from getting vaxxed! I presented a funeral for an abortion in grad school, complete with a pamphlet about how to grieve a child that wasn't intentionally prevented, and my prof included it in his book. It can be more difficult to grieve a choice. I also feel this way about about kids transitioning. There are some who de-transition later. I think we do a disservice to kids to ignore that reality. But it's also a problem to overemphasize the very small number who don't feel any more themselves after transitioning.

Michelle Goldberg addressed the trans issue in the New York Times yesterday:

"that progressive taboos around discussing some of the thornier issues involved in treating young people with gender dysphoria, including the reality of detransition, are self-defeating. 'We don't look unified. We look like we're hiding something.' 

That's exactly what happened when people discounted concerns about vaccinations. It didn't inspire confidence because it looked deceptive. We know when there's a little problem that's being ignored, and that can be the beginning for a bigger problems if it gets coopted by opponents to prove a dishonesty in our claims. 

Goldberg also tackles the issue of parental rights over their children at school:

"All adolescents should have space, independent of their parents, to experiment with identity . . . Teachers don't notify parents about whom their kids are dating. If the daughter of a conservative Muslim family decided to take off her hijab at school, most of us wouldn't expect her teacher to report her. But if the parental rights' folks win, teachers will be forced to check in with parents before addressing kids by their preferred pronouns, or to call students by names they don't answer to. . . . Part of growing up is developing trusting relationships with adults outside one's family. We should all hope that our kids find people besides us they can confide in, even about stuff we wish we know."

We need to be honest and thorough in our approach, acknowledging the transitioning child in grade school as well as the kids who are oblivious to their sexuality, and acknowledging a grain of truth within a controversial position. And I'll try to be faster at thinking on my feet and so much more concisely so I can get all this out next time we have a share-your-thoughts go-around! The issue on the table appeared to be under what authority did the board have a right to post an open letter, and I had nothing to say on that actual topic for discussion.  

ETA (h/t Cap in the comments): So curious that same book was being discussed at the same time in Florida! It gives one pause to consider precisely how accidental the child's discovery of the book was. Florida went in a different direction and banned the book. 

"But this 'removal' isn't about one novel, is it? This is about sowing mistrust in educators, destabilizing the public school system and pushing parents toward privatization. In perhaps the greatest irony, it's about erasing uncomfortable truths in favor of a sanguine and simplified view of reality. . . . Reducing the text to its most disturbing moments presents a willfully cynical misread. . . . It has helped students see other realities, read at a more literary level and even come forwards about their own sexual assaults. Those testimonies are something to think about when considering how books might hurt children. How, also, could the same books help them? . . . If school leaders are cherry-picking scenes from each piece of literature, students will be left only with Harold and the Purple Crayon."