Finding Freedom in the Classroom: A Critical Theory Review

Introduction: Why Critical Theory Matters in Education

The first chapter of Patricia Hinchey's Finding Freedom in the Classroom (2010) asks why theory—and especially Critical Theory—matters in today's classrooms. It essentially sets the stage for the kind of "freedom" the book aims to achieve: freedom from "historical norms" such as the assumption that marriage is between a man and a woman (Hinchey, 2010, p. 1). Granted, this is offered simply as an example of the way ideas become entrenched in society. Hinchey proceeds to apply this observation to the ways in which schools become bogged down by accepted norms—such as the use of standardized textbooks, the division of work into subjects, and the amount of time spent inside a classroom as opposed to outside of it.

The purpose of this opening chapter is to draw attention to the cultural habits that keep us from questioning conventional attitudes about the way things are done, especially when it comes to schooling. For this reason, Hinchey prescribes Critical Theory as a suitable approach in the classroom because it involves the process of critically examining all of society's elements, constructs, and systems.

Questioning Power, Consciousness, and Epistemology

The second chapter continues with the value of using Critical Theory, as it allows people to question authority, power, and control. This is an important consideration for someone looking for a "way out" of the emptiness of modern consumerism and materialism. It is also a theory that helps people see "how the choices of one group affect the lives of others" (Hinchey, p. 18), and it is equally about recognizing one's own value. Too often, people allow themselves to be devalued while they elevate others—and this is especially true of teachers in the classroom. ("I am only a teacher" is the example Hinchey cites, p. 25.) This is why it is so important to unpack "the way it is," because that "way" is usually maintained because it benefits those at the top of the pyramid—a power structure or hegemonic structure that has no interest in individuals or in objective truth. Our consciousness has been constructed by that structure, and for that reason it should be critically examined.

The third chapter begins to deconstruct the assumptions we have accumulated over years of lived experience, challenging us to rethink what we know and what we have been taught using positivist epistemology. Hinchey explores constructivist epistemology—approaches to understanding that examine the constructs serving as frameworks for the worldviews we erect in our minds to explain perceptions and natural order. Positivist epistemology focuses on facts, which can be important, but in modern academia these are over-emphasized to the point where common sense has become almost a forbidden concept. Of course, common sense itself must be viewed as a construct if one is to follow Hinchey's line of thought.

Educational Psychology, Authority, and Cultural Capital

The fourth chapter examines educational psychology, instrumental rationality, and post-formalism in an attempt to move us out of the "rut" of conventional and stale modes of thought that do nothing but allow the power structure to remain in place (Hinchey, p. 66). The "sacred ideas" of educational psychology are those pushed by the power elite in a positivist world (p. 66). By taking part in the accountability movement, we are better positioned to reject the lessons of a positivist Ed Psych classroom and apply a more critical approach to what the establishment asks us to learn (Hinchey, p. 72). In short, it is a dichotomy in which students and teachers are on one side and the establishment is on the other. Understanding the nature of the establishment is essential to perceiving how our educational system is designed to operate, and it is also helpful for understanding ourselves—and how we, as students and teachers, can use a post-formalist view of educational psychology to overcome these obstacles.

The same sensibility continues in chapter five, which concentrates on "rethinking authority" and a discussion of cultural capital. Just as the reader was challenged to rethink conventional positivism in relation to educational psychology, here the reader is challenged to question concepts of authority. "Cultural capital" is introduced by way of the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu, who recognized that things like language (English, for example) and academic credentials (an MA in a given field) are forms of cultural capital that allow individuals to navigate society—to get jobs or "buy" a position (Hinchey, p. 86). But like money in a fiat currency system, cultural capital can be devalued and alternative forms can take its place. This is already happening as older forms of cultural capital, such as biblical knowledge, have been displaced by scientific knowledge, business management knowledge, and even pseudo-scientific knowledge. Some of this displacement is welcome—for instance, "legacy preferences" that allow certain individuals to gain admission to selective schools while others are denied should be eliminated (Hinchey, p. 92). In short, the system is not as "free" as we are led to believe; there is a great deal of discrimination embedded in cultural capital.

Conclusion: Toward an Ancient and Humanist Praxis

Along the way, Hinchey makes several good points about questioning authority, rethinking the way educational psychology is conceived, and how we should approach what we think we know. Much of what she writes is empowering and gives the reader the sense that things can change—and that it all starts with us. However, walking away from the game is not as easy as one might think, and refusing to participate in the agendas of those upholding the power structure can come at a severe cost. For persons attempting to support a family, this cost can be too high. Participation in the perpetuation of the system is disingenuous but perhaps a necessary evil. Is there a practical way to separate oneself from the hegemonic system without dragging one's family into poverty? Perhaps sacrifices must be made—but in that case, one would need a higher vision, perhaps the kind that allowed Socrates to drink the hemlock.

As Hinchey notes, we must develop a new praxis in order to set things right. I agree—but that praxis should turn back toward the ancients and should reconsider the old way of looking at the self, the world, and the soul. Here, in my view, is a good place to begin.

References

Hinchey, P. (2010). Finding Freedom in the Classroom. New York: Peter Lang Publishing.

O'Connor, F. (1962). Wise Blood. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.