Values. Pedagogy. Squatter’s Sovereignty.

Two events set the context for this post:

1. At our most recent Saxifrage School team meeting we had a great discussion concerning our strategic plan for the next 4 years and the values we want to hold in front of us as we move ahead.

2. Last night I talked with artist/educator Glenn Loughran via Skype (he’s in Dublin) about our inclusion in his upcoming exhibition at the Mattress Factory museum.

Glenn’s exhibition is playing off of a historical/political idea known as squatter’s sovereignty. It has taken me quite a few minutes to discern exactly what this idea means; especially its connection with our project and how we can contribute to Glenn’s work.

Squatter: One who occupies a space for which they do not have permission. Or, more broadly, one who is occupying a space for a certain purpose which is contrary to the normal permissible purpose of the space (i.e. a bridge being used as a restaurant; parking spaces as gardens; a bar being utilized as a church).

Sovereignty: To have supreme independent authority over a place; often, to exercise that authority in a way that ignores common laws and culturally accepted norms. Simply, the freedom to act as one wishes.

Everyday examples of claiming sovereignty, include:
Pittsburgher’s overwhelming conviction that they are sovereign over public parking spots.
They lay claim to them by placing lawn chairs and garden gnomes upon them.
the simple claiming of a seat. “That’s my seat.”
Or, more seriously, most people claim and understand a certain sovereignty in their own homes. This is very much part of the American ideal. “This is my house!”

This idea of squatter’s sovereignty, I am realizing, has everything to do with the core values and structure of the Saxifrage School; namely, the entire idea of having a campus integrated into pre-existing community spaces. We will be moving into spaces where we have no sovereignty–into places that are defined for a certain purpose–and redefine their laws of usage, framing and curating them according to our needs. Essentially, we will be squatting in a place. I call it squatting not because we will not have permission, but because the place is not a classroom, the place is defined as something that is not an educative space.

This idea of a campus being cobbled together from underutilized neighborhood space is not only powerful in terms of cost savings, but also in the power of its metaphor and pedagogy. The traditional model of higher education has unintentionally institutionalized an oppressive pedagogy wherein students experience education primarily within the context and place of the institution and not outside of it. Learning happens in the cathedral of learning; learning happens in a class; learning is not legitimate unless you pay for it and are credentialed appropriately. This institutional pedagogy of higher ed is oppressive because its students have little experience or empowerment in learning outside of its institutional and geographic confines; the economics of participating in the institution are also oppressive as they burden the student with debt which inhibits them from pursuing further learning either within the institution (due to cost) or without it (due to a need to work to repay the debt).

Transforming a bar into an educative space is a liberating notion if it enables students to realize learning outside of the cathedral. That we can learn anywhere is a very simple notion, and a very human one that few would disagree upon, but it is a radical one when we apply it to actual structures. So many spaces go empty for large portions of the day or year because their purpose is singular. Three of the worst culprits of underutilized space are universities, bars, and churches. Churches being mostly empty and un-utilized for the majority of the week; bars being empty during most of the days; universities being empty during most evenings and the entire summer.

The example of the church is especially interesting when one considers the oppressive pedagogy of its space: that worship and spiritual learning can only occur in the sanctuary and under the direction of a credentialed minister. In this case, the institution is problematic both because it works against its own teachings and burdens itself with the cost of its space (and the loss of mission associated with financial obligations). This has meaning beyond the problem of “church” only happening in a church building, but also on a global scale when a Chinese christian feels inferior because “Jesus is from America” (this was said to me once).

None of this is to say that there is not value in structure, or in expert teachers, or in devoted spaces. However, none of these should be institutionalized to the point where students feel as though they are not capable of learning without them.

A structured academic program of courses, genius professors, and a well-equipped workshop are all valuable resources for students, but only if they do not cause them to be passive learners; only if they are able to be sovereign learners regardless of structure, teachers, and space; only if the cost of those resources does not oppress their future, by causing their decisions to be dictated by their debt.

In many ways the purpose of education is to humanize us; let it do just that.

So much more to think on.