All artwork in this post is from László Moholy-Nagy, who said: the experience of space is not a privilege of the gifted few, but a biological function.
I’ve been thinking about this line from an Atlantic article by Matt Thompson I read two years ago: “Miseducation is the process of teaching people to sand off pieces of themselves to fit into their society’s constraints, rather than teaching them how to shape that society for themselves.” “Sand off” is such a perfect descriptive verb. Miseducation is an erosive process, so slow it often seems natural. It’s sometimes confused with "ordinary" pressure to conform, which comes from multiple fronts (schools, peers, bullying, group norms, government, history of survival). Miseducation is not just about fitting in. Miseducation is about a sense of agency—about whether you were taught to follow the rules of the game or to shape the rules of the game for yourself. I grew up in a small Utah town with very few competitive students. But the summer after my freshman year, I attended a summer camp at the Stanford AI Lab. The camp was really selective (and the vast majority of campers are now attending elite colleges.) The campers (who were mostly from private schools) acted really different from my peers in high school. They exuded confidence, without seeming cocky. It was not just high self-image, but a feeling of control and an ownership to mold their own identity and story. It seems so ridiculous, since we were all 14-year-olds. But they were 14-year-olds who were really in control. Attending that camp changed how I approached high school. It wasn’t the camp itself, but meeting those “differently-educated” campers. I began thinking about how I could shape my circumstances to work in my favor (i.e. writing applications with a focus on being from Utah and looking for unique resources and opportunities around me). I began trying to cultivate an “aura of confidence.” I started my own projects and clubs, talked to my school principal and counselor about getting around old “rules,” and applied to things I wasn’t qualified for. If I saw a problem or barrier, I felt like I could change it. Actually, I started acting entitled.
“Entitled” has mostly negative connotations, for good reason. The dictionary definition is: “believing oneself to be inherently deserving of privileges or special treatment.” Yuck. It sounds like the classic rich white kid. But I’ve found that entitlement is also strangely necessary. It’s not just rich kids who act entitled. The most “successful” high-schoolers (if we use the flawed definition of success through accolades/achievements) all have some form of entitlement. They apply for a billion things, because they think they’re entitled to shooting their shot. They’re ambitious, because they feel entitled to success. They start innovative projects, because they feel entitled to do things differently and take risks. Those who are taught, directly and indirectly, to be entitled to resources are the ones who seek resources out more actively. Is entitlement really bad? It seems like it helps people get what they want. The summer after I attended the Stanford camp, I attended another camp at the University of Michigan specifically targeting underrepresented groups and students of color. In a parallel way, I found the campers also fit the definition of “entitled.” They believed they had fundamental rights that weren’t given to them and that had to be actively fought for. They were entitled to speak up, ask questions out of line, make arguments, and generally stick out. These shouldn’t be privileges. But miseducation (in school and out of school) generally encourages us to “sand off pieces of ourselves.” I first started noticing entitlement in myself, with mixed feelings. I hated the feeling. It made me feel privileged, and I didn’t want to think I “deserved” anything. But this entitlement wasn’t just negative. It made me more confident and more courageous. I felt more in control: I’m entitled to try, I’m entitled to cold-email people, I’m entitled to apply, I’m entitled to change my surroundings. If people with imposter syndrome shifted their mindset to entitlement, the imposter syndrome would probably disappear. You don’t need to do anything to “deserve things.” You’re entitled to the things that miseducation tries to sand off. That might seem like it would breed laziness. But I think we perform best when we’re not trying to prove ourselves. We take more risks, we’re more creative. In a perfect society, we would all be entitled to happiness and success. And even in our imperfect society right now, shouldn’t we also be entitled? The qualities we want should belong to us. When we work towards them, we’re working towards taking back what is ours (which also happens to be the perfect motivation for movie villains).
Bill Drayton, CEO of Ashoka and MacArthur Fellow, is creating a movement called Everyone a Changemaker (EACH). His central thesis is quite complex and difficult to communicate succinctly. (This article in Forbes helps, the relevant material starts about halfway down.) Drayton’s theory is related to miseducation in an interesting way. First, here’s my understanding of EACH:
Two of the most urgent problems in our world today are income inequality and “us versus them” politics. These are universals that have swept the world; we can’t explain them using local, cultural, or economic forces.
Our world is rapidly shifting. Repetitive, labor-intensive work is no longer relevant and is being replaced by technology/AI. Not only is work shifting, but the way that society is structured is also shifting. Rather than having consolidated corporations and businesses, we now have fluid, open “teams of teams” (like parent companies, the passion economy, gig workers, supply chain, global outsourcing, independent contractors).
One part of the population, the changemakers, have a mindset to adapt to and actually benefit from the changing world. They’re sought after and rewarded handsomely. There is a new game where the winning players navigate the system, unlock more potential, and grow exponentially (winners take all.) This helps explain rising income inequality.
Yet on the other hand, half of the population does not have the mindset of making change in society. When they lose the old norms of safety and stability (which are basic human needs), they feel fearful, anxious, and angry. (Coal workers losing control and feeling a sense of powerlessness.) This helps explain polarization in politics.
Fixing the two big problems in our world is not as easy as a mindset shift. But you won’t seek the skills to be a changemaker unless you know you need to be one. Being a changemaker is crucial to contribute to today’s society.
(If you aren’t a changemaker, you’ll just conform. You’ll go through school filling in bubbles, listening to teachers lecture on prepositions, and memorizing the periodic table. You’ll “sand off pieces of yourself to fit into society’s constraints,” rather than shaping society for yourself.)
Changemaking is an umbrella word: it can mean writing, entrepreneurship, creating art, leading a team, activism, or volunteering. In Drayton’s words, “changemakers can see the patterns around them, identify the problems in any situation, figure out ways to solve the problem, organize fluid teams, lead collective action and then continually adapt as situations change.”
EACH also means unlocking untapped power in society and in individuals. Imagine if all children were educated to make change, rather than to memorize facts or train for professions that might be replaced or study hyper-specific fields.
Drayton’s genius is in isolating two complex societal problems, two explanations and ways the future is shifting with technology, and a vision of the world where we every individual contributes. The word “changemaker” is a bit clichè. (Which I especially believe after seeing it in LinkedIn profiles.) But it really describes what all individuals need to be; we are living in a world that is not just changing rapidly, but is defined by change.
Fostering the “mindset of a changemaker” in kids feels really nebulous. Instead, I actually think it would be more useful to foster and encourage entitlement. That sounds bad. But the leaders, activists, and artists that we admire most all act entitled: they feel entitled to change society and so they do. Every kid should feel “entitled to change something.” Not to change the world, necessarily. But just to change something. It’s not even “entitlement” or a special privilege; it should be a given. But the process of miseducation has convinced us we should actively try to fit into society’s constraints. Miseducation has different extremities, as the Atlantic article illustrates. The article is definitely more complex than just the one line I copied at the beginning, so I highly recommend reading the full version. Two last quotes that really spoke to me:
“If a school is devised purely as an escape route to a different world, he believed, then it will teach students only the information required to exist in that other world. The students will emerge knowing nothing about their environment except why and how to leave it, leaving them incapable of understanding it, much less improving it.“
(This line helped me realize that I saw leaving Utah for college as an escape route, which led me to miss out on paying attention to what my community was actually like and what I could change.)
“Real education,” Woodson wrote, “means to inspire people to live more abundantly, to learn to begin with life as they find it and make it better.” It must help a person to see the surrounding world more clearly, and to find whatever opportunities lie in it for enrichment. “But can you expect teachers to revolutionize the social order for the good of the community?” he asked rhetorically. “Indeed we must expect this very thing. The educational system of a country is worthless unless it accomplishes this task.”
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