CORE Blog

He kōrerorero, he whakaaro

CORE Blog

He kōrerorero, he whakaaro
CORE Blog
He kōrerorero, he whakaaro
  • HomeKāinga
  • About usMātou nei
  • CORE WebsitePAENGA CORE

February

Home
/
2020
/
February

Children’s agency, a champion, and a model for advocacy

Posted on February 27, 2020 by Sarah Te One

childrens-agency

When I first heard the word “agency” applied to children, I naively thought that it must refer to child actors. Well, in a way it does, but not in the way I thought. Agency is a word I struggled with. For a long time I found it hard to use – do you grant agency? Allow agency? Provide scope for agency? Deny agency? Is agency the same as choice? Is it voice?

For me, the concept of agency for children makes most sense when thought about in terms of children’s rights (no surprises there), and in particular, their rights to express an opinion. All too often though, the one right which talks about children’s entitlement to a point of view, Article 12 of the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, is taken out of context. In this blog, I want to put some context around children’s rights to a voice, to be consulted, informed and to express their point of view and their right to say “No, I don’t want to tell you”. I also want to talk about champions – specifically my child’s right hero – Professor Laura Lundy.

Two big ideas – agency and voice

At the moment, there is an unprecedented interest in two big ideas – child agency and child voice. Both these ideas are about children’s rights to participate in all decisions that affect them – their Article 12 rights – the ones most often quoted when it comes to voice. However, unfortunately, the other Articles about children’s rights to a point of view are less well known. These, arguably, concern the ‘agency’ part. Agency is about the ability of the child to actively influence their environment – as a learner, a player, singer, an artist – whatever – and for children, voice is the way they exercise their agency.

But, and it’s a big but, because voice means much, much more than just listening to children. For example, in the table below are all the rights in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child – the Children’s Convention which, in theory, should support children to take part in matters that concern them.

Articles that support children’s rights to express a point of view

12 Children have the right to say what they think should happen when adults are making decisions that affect them, and to have their opinions taken into account.
13 Children have the right to get and to share information, as long as the information is not damaging to them or others.
14 Children have the right to think and believe what they want, and to practice their religion, as long as they are not stopping other people from enjoying their rights. Parents should guide children in these matters.
15 Children have the right to meet together and to join groups and organisations, as long as this does not stop other people from enjoying their rights.
16 Children have the right to privacy. The law should protect them from attacks against their way of life, their good name, their families, and their homes


(Adapted from Unicef NZ (2011)
For each and every child. He taonga tonu te tamariki. Wellington, NZ: Learning Media. Available from https://www.unicef.org.nz/teaching-resources)

What facilitates a rights-based learning setting? What constrains it?

In my work at CORE, across the early years, primary and the secondary sector, I have heard many kaiako equate agency with voice and in so doing, assume that voice means children’s participation rights are fulfilled. But are they? Scratch the surface and you reveal some really interesting assumptions that I think are worth questioning. This is where my hero, and internationally renowned children’s champion, makes her entrance.

Children’s champion and a model for advocacy

In 2007, Laura Lundy wrote one of the most widely cited articles about children’s participation rights – “Voice is not enough: Conceptualising Article 12 of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child “. Like many child rights advocates, she was concerned that equating children’s agency to voice was limiting. She started asking questions like “where do you listen to children?” and, “who is listening to children?” and, “once you have heard from children, what are you going to do about it?” (Lundy 2007).

Her intention was to broaden the adult assumption that listening to the child’s voice is one-dimensional and to do this she identified four spheres, elements, aspects, as a way to deeply understand (first stage of CORE’s theory of Action He Ariā Kōkirikiri) what it takes to really listen to what children have to say.

 

laura_lundy

Source: https://www.tusla.ie/uploads/content/Laura_Lundy_Slides.pdf 

This model has been used by some of us at CORE. I think it has enormous potential as an advocacy tool for all learners, (no matter the shoe size), and that includes us as kaiako, as facilitators of learning, and as researchers. The main point here is that children’s agency consists of more than one element – all the participation rights need to be considered to authentically hear what children have to say. To make this a reality for all children, we need to be advocates (and champions too). Part of our role as professionals is to advocate for socially just outcomes and, as Judge Becroft, our current Children’s Commissioner and chief advocate for children once observed: the Children’s Convention offers “unequivocal international commitment to protect, nurture and further the interests of what is potentially one of the most marginalised and abused groups in our community – our children”. Sobering thoughts.

Be an advocate

The education sector is not alone when it comes to genuinely respecting children’s rights to say what they think, see, and feel. The roll out of the Child Wellbeing Strategy promotes a joined-up approach to the way government plans and resources services for children. That strategy foregrounds a child-rights approach. In education, we have extraordinary potential to enact these rights every day, and for each and every child. And we do. But, maybe we can do better? As Laura Lundy says, we have made huge progress with space, voice and audience, but the influence sphere is still hitting barriers. Therein lies a challenge for us: What more could we do? How can we advocate for sustained support for children’s rights to be heard across our sector and beyond?

If not you, who? If not now, when?

Listen to Sarah’s podcast discussion about learner agency here.

For more information about children’s rights visit:

Education matters to me https://www.occ.org.nz/publications/reports/education-matters-to-me-key-insights/

Children’s Rights Alliance Aotearoa (NB – this website has not been updated to reflect the new name for the organisation so don’t be confused by landing on Action for Children and Youth Aotearoa. The website houses the latest reports and submissions about children’s rights.)

References

Lundy, L. (2007). ‘Voice’ is not enough: conceptualising Article 12 of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. British Educational Research Journal. Vol 33 (6) 947-942
Unicef NZ (2011) For each and every child. He taonga tonu te tamariki. Wellington, NZ: Learning Media. Available from https://www.unicef.org.nz/teaching-resources

read more
Posted in

Future Ready – bringing your graduate profile to life!

Posted on February 26, 2020 by Derek Wenmoth

graduate-profile

Beginning the year provides a great opportunity to ‘start fresh’ with our thinking, individually and as a staff. It’s a time where we can take a moment to reflect on what’s really important and what the key drivers are for our work.

For schools and kura this thinking is revealed in mission and vision statements.. These make explicit the aspirations they, and their community, have for learners in their care.

A really good mission and vision statement is grounded in beliefs about teaching and learning that are held by the staff and the community. These in turn reveal a lot about what they believe to be the purpose of schooling, what is expected of it by the community and society more generally.

I’m writing this as I reflect on three recent experiences:

  1. A camping holiday with my entire family during which we spent time sharing some of our dreams and thoughts about what’s happening in our lives and the hopes we have for the six grandchildren in particular.
  2. A day working with the staff of a large primary school in Auckland where we explored the implications of a ‘future focused’ perspective on all aspects of the school’s planning and activity, and how this is reflected in their statement of intent, vision and mission.
  3. The release earlier in the week of a new report from the OECD on Teenagers’ Career Aspirations and the Future of Work, and the headline in local papers telling us that half of Kiwi 15-year-olds expect to work in one of just 10 occupations.

The questions about ‘What is school for?’ and the ‘purpose of education’ are the common thread in these experiences. Whether a parent making decisions about a place of learning for their child; an educator making curriculum planning decisions for the year ahead; or a national or international policy body researching these things, we can’t avoid the reality that the most significant measure of success of our endeavours is the ‘product’ at the end of the line – in education’s case, the confident, connected, life-long learner who is able to thrive in a world where the future is uncertain and changing.

Considering how well school contributes to the preparation of our young people as future citizens, and how well they then contribute to society in the workforce is a key indicator of success. The journey towards this goal starts well before they get to the senior secondary years when the careers guidance programmes kick in.

The foundations that prepare young people for their futures, including work, are established early in life when parents and whānau begin asking “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Once they make their way to school or kura our children and tamariki encounter the curriculum with an initial emphasis on literacy and numeracy, gradually expanding to other domains of knowledge and the skills associated with them. The design of the curriculum is influenced by our beliefs (as society, communities, educators) about what they need to be able to know and do that will prepare them for what they do in the future.

All good so far, except that when it comes to what actually happens in school, it appears (in some cases at least) that this connection isn’t made. According to a 2018 article in Stuff, while we may consider our school graduates to be educated, tech savvy and enthusiastic, only half of 16- to 23-year-olds feel their education has prepared them well for the future. In that article, Massey University Distinguished Professor of Sociology, Paul Spoonley, is reported as saying that there has been a disconnect between employers’ expectations and the secondary and tertiary curriculum for some time.

The more recent OECD findings reinforce this earlier report, with the list of ten occupations identified through their research looking very similar to the list I would have made when I was at school, more than 40 years ago. None of the occupations identified in the World Economic Forum’s list of top ten skills you will need to thrive in the Fourth Industrial Revolution, appear in the OECD list for example.

However, I’d suggest that the ‘disconnect’ should be considered more widely than simply being between what employers expect and the what is in the school curriculum – or perhaps more correctly, how it is taught.

Many schools and kura have made explicit the aspirations they have for their learners, in the form of a graduate profile. In almost every case, these profiles describe a wide range of competencies and dispositions that places of learning want to see developed in young people during the time they are with them. These are based on beliefs about what is important in terms of character, including the ability to adapt and cope with change, and not narrowly defined in terms of specific skills or knowledge outcomes.

Again, this is a really valuable exercise and one that I’d strongly support. Once developed, the graduate profile must remain a ‘living document’, not something that is filed away and used as a point of reference for achievement when learners reach their final year.

As the new year begins, I encourage you to revisit your graduate profile (if you have one) and reflect on the extent to which the programmes, themes, activities and topics planned for this term or year will provide opportunities for your learners to develop the characteristics you’ve identified. What measures will you take to so that you can confidently say these things are being or have been achieved? Moreover, as the characteristics described in a good graduate profile likely to develop, what strategies and measures do you have in your school, kura or centre to monitor and track this development over time?

Let’s make 2020 the year we shift our emphasis to be truly ‘future focused’, and take steps to ensure that there is no longer any gap between what we say we aspire to see learners achieve and what they report as their experience when they leave you to participate as contributing members of society – including in the world of work.

read more
Posted in
Subscribe to our emails
Make an Enquiry
Subscribe to our emails
Make an Enquiry

© 2023 CORE Education Policies
0800 267 301
© 2023 CORE Education
0800 267 301