UniSA

Image from Netflix series Adolescence

What happens when the manosphere goes to university

misogyny in higher education, misogyny in schools, sexism in schools, sexism in universities, , , , , , ,

We are part of a broader research team* investigating how online worlds are shaping Australian schooling. It’s a timely issue floodlit by the Netflix drama Adolescence. In 2024, our study contributed to a flood of reportage and academic research concerning a rise in sexist and  misogynistic encounters in Australian schools, and the broader social need for a coherent strategy around gender based violence (GBV) that challenges the power structures and rigid binary norms that underpin it. 

Universities are spaces where this work is both needed and occurs.

What universities should do

As social institutions and major providers of education, universities can and should play a role in promoting long-term social and cultural change through supporting diversity and justice oriented research and teaching. Indeed, universities are not only where specialists like teachers, lawyers, journalists, and health professionals are prepared to work in society, but where GBV itself is occurring to the extent that the Federal Government recently released its Action Plan Addressing Gender-based Violence in Higher Education. This is a welcome development but does not mean that education around gender justice has been mainstreamed. Nor has it manifested in greater institutional support for academics who teach this complex terrain. In fact, our research indicates that academics teaching diversity-related content are experiencing a sharp rise in GBV and ‘anti-woke’ backlash. 

The second phase of our research into digital worlds and their impacts on Australian classrooms turns to the university sector. It includes surveys and interviews with tertiary educators from across Australia. We ask if they have witnessed or experienced a rise in anti-social language or behaviours amongst tertiary students. Thus far, we have received 59 surveys and undertaken nine in-depth interviews, each approximately two hours long. While a modest sample, our data mirrors patterns playing out in schools and society more broadly. 

Diversity related content ‘woke’ and ‘politically extreme’

Most phase two respondents are women or culturally minoritised academics from across disciplines (i.e., education, politics, journalism, business, human resource development, health, and humanities). They teach diversity content relating to racial and gender justice, LGBTQIA+ rights, multiculturalism, First Nations sovereignty, and religious inclusion. As a dispersed teaching body, these academics share stories of the emotional burdens of this work. They describe this as having grown harder recently, and often having deleterious impacts on student evaluations of teaching which affect academics’ health and career progression.

As a casual academic in education explained:

“Over the past three years behaviour has grown progressively worse from largely Anglo Australian cohorts of … young men. They watch sporting matches and do online betting during class … They do not like strong female tutors who talk about Aboriginal education or inclusion. [They] hide these sentiments until anonymous feedback is due. Then they write about the tutor being ‘dangerous’ and opinionated and say that politics shouldn’t be part of education.” 

Academics across disciplines note diversity content is increasingly being framed by some students (and staff) as woke or politically extreme. The consequence for those who teach this content is a rise in feelings of precarity, anxiety, and frustration:

“I have stopped challenging students for fear of the feedback as I am on probation. I can’t do a good job ethically and morally. I don’t want to teach any more.” 

Student evaluations are a real problem in this context. They have always been problematic. But with an ever more polarised discourse and the necessity to take firmer stands in class which make you inevitably unpopular with some students it is now completely unacceptable for universities to continue using these tools to evaluate performance.

LGBTQIA+ and Gender Equity Backlash

Australian academics also speak of a rise in anti-LGBTQIA+ backlash and pushback against gender equity specifically:

“Every year I consider just not teaching anything about gender equality or diversity, to avoid the grief. But on I go … 

The anti-LGBTIQA+ backlash from students really shook me … There have been several examples of transphobia, homophobia, and misogyny in my classes especially in recent years, managing these interactions in class is getting increasingly difficult as opinions are becoming more polarised.

Just last week, a student expressed their opinion that it was ok to persecute lesbian and gay people because “they do not have children and contribute nothing to society, just like childless, single straight women” and therefore do not ‘deserve the protection of the law’.”

Lack of institutional and policy support

When asked if they feel supported by their institutions or what, specifically, is being done when challenging encounters arise, most respondents describe feeling insufficiently supported or institutionally gaslit, saying “nothing is ever done. Complaints get swept under the rug.” And “staff who experience bullying, harassment or mistreatment are made to feel they don’t know how to handle the situation.” Academics collectively speak of feeling alone, experiencing anxiety, and exhaustion.

But institutional inaction around GBV or anti-diversity backlash in classrooms links to a broader history of policy failure. This contributes to workplace cultures in which responses to such incidents are often ineffectual, absent, piecemeal, or left to individual teachers to resolve. This happens in schools and in universities. As funding to universities has been reduced, the higher education sector has grown more ‘masculinist’ and ‘business-like’. Courses centring diversity content are less institutionally prized than, for instance, the industry-aligned ‘hard’ sciences. This means academics who teach diversity content may often be working in isolation.

This also comes at a time when the manosphere (online groups unified by anti-feminist, right-wing populism) is shaping gender and racial politics worldwide through circulating extreme beliefs that many Gen Z boys and young men, in particular, are taking to be true. Common manosphere messaging includes the idea that feminism is a conspiracy, immigrants and cultural minorities are threats, social problems such as poverty or insecure housing are the result of women and minority groups advancing at men’s expense, and LGBTQIA+ people and single unmarried women are a threat to the natural order.

Diversity education for a strong social fabric

Universities are some of the last places where informed social critique and engagement across differences is nurtured. These are vital elements of a healthy democracy. Formal education should provide strong intellectual resistance to the polarised beliefs currently being amplified by digital worlds. Simply banning social media is insufficient. Yet, women and minority academics are increasingly carrying this work alone. They report feeling isolated, burnt out, and targeted by students labelling them ‘woke’ or ‘politically extreme’ – dynamics that will undoubtedly intensify with the Trump Administration’s blatant ‘war on woke’. Education is political and backlash against diversity is becoming extreme. Education must be part of the solution. Diversity work including gender justice must be valued as a core curriculum mandate across Australia’s pre-tertiary and tertiary education fields. Our social fabric depends on it.

* Professor Ed Palmer, Dr Eszter Szenes and Dr Daniel Lee all contributed to the research on which this article is based. Research ethics approval #2024-017.

Sam Schulz is an associate professor and sociologist of education at The University of Adelaide. Sarah McDonald is a lecturer at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion in UniSA Education Futures, University of South Australia.

The header image is from the Netflix series Adolescence

Racism researchers

Yes, the N-word is a problem in schools now. Is a blanket ban the answer?

anti-racism, racism and schools, racism in Australian schools, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Our African diaspora youth belonging project researchers (pictured in our header image): Melanie Baak, Mwangaza Milunga, Benjamin Grant-Skiba, Yahya Djomani Ousmane, Zamda Omba,  Habibat Ogunbanwo, Shaza Hamed, Elaine Ncube, Efon Luwala, Jeanne Munyonge

Nine youth researchers with varying connections to the African diaspora and one white settler had over 150 hours of conversations with African diaspora young people across Australia over two years. One issue arose repeatedly in nearly every conversation: the N-word.

Schools struggle with how to respond. For Afro-diasporic young people, it is part of their daily existence. Sometimes it’s a term of camaraderie and empowerment, other times harm and exclusion. 

Teachers, administrators, and students alike are searching for guidance on how to handle its use. Some advocate for a strict ban, such as Tebeje Molla.

But a blanket prohibition does not account for the complexities of Afro-diasporic identity and the multiple meanings the word holds. Banning is not an equitable response. And it’s not effective. We argue schools must engage in deeper, more nuanced conversations about race, history, and power.

The N-Word and Black Identity in Australia

To understand the N-word’s significance in Australian schools, we must first grapple with what it means to be Black in Australia. The etymology of the word, after all, stems from the Latin for ‘black’. 

The term is tied to the history of transatlantic slavery and Black resistance in the US. But Blackness in Australia is shaped by different historical and migration narratives. The controversial theme for the 1987 NAIDOC week was ‘White Australia has a Black history’,  to recognise the long, proud history of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples on this continent and reference the lack of acknowledgement of atrocities committed against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.  

This history of Blackness is important to think about settler Blackness, i.e. racialized migrant groups such as those from the African diaspora. 

The first African-diasporic settlers arrived in 1788 with the First Fleet. By 1840, approximately 500 people of African descent lived in the colony. Awareness of this Afro-diasporic history is limited. The focus is on the increase in African migration through humanitarian and skilled visa pathways since the 1990s.

This lack of historical recognition complicates the ways young people of African descent construct their identities in Australian schools today. Many participants in our study described feeling in-between. They didn’t feel they belonged as Australian. They also felt disconnected from the cultural traditions and identities of their parent’s generation. For many, global Black culture, through music and social media, is an important part of making sense of their own experiences of racialisation in Australia and the world.  The N-word is part of this global Black culture. It is a word that carries deep pain, yet also one reclaimed as a marker of solidarity.

Why a Blanket Ban is Not the Answer

In his recent EduMatters article, Molla argues schools should implement a ban on the N-word, suggesting that such a policy would protect Black students from harm and ensure a safe, supportive learning environment. While we do not deny the significant historical violence tied to the word, we offer some reflections specifically relating to the call for a blanket ban.

Schools already recognize fairness does not mean treating all students the same. Equitable approaches require context-specific responses—whether in uniform policies for religious or gender diversity or accommodations for students with disabilities. The same principle should apply to language. The N-word is not just another offensive term like “f**k”; it carries deep historical and cultural significance. Yes, it is rooted in oppression. But it is also reclaimed by certain Black communities as a term of camaraderie and identity.

Does it undermine consistency?

Molla argues allowing Black students to use the N-word undermines consistency in anti-racism policies and may inadvertently normalise its use. However, a strict ban ignores the complexities of race, history, and linguistic reclamation. Instead of prohibition, schools should facilitate conversations about why certain words carry power and who has the right to use them.

The duality of the N-word—both harmful and reclaimed—creates confusion, particularly among non-Black students who encounter it in the media but may not grasp its history. Some, including South Asian and Pacific Islander youth, adopt it casually, assuming shared racial proximity. Others mimic pop culture without understanding its significance. This leads to tensions, as some Black students permit its use while others oppose it. The confusion is trivialised in some cases: such as students “selling” N-word passes to their peers.

Schools must acknowledge racism is not only perpetuated by white students. Afro-diasporic students in our study have reported racial slurs from South Asian, Middle Eastern, and other non-Black peers who either misunderstand or intentionally weaponize the N-word. Simply banning the word does little to address these underlying racial dynamics.

Context matters

The meaning and effect of the  N-word shifts depending on who is using it, in what context, and for what purpose. A blanket ban erases these complexities. It does not teach students why the word carries power or how racialized language operates within broader systems of oppression. Instead, it risks further alienating Black students (or even more concerningly giving teachers further reason to disproportionately discipline them) who use the word as part of their cultural lexicon while doing little to address the systemic racism they experience in schools.

Context matters. While teachers and non-Black students should never use the word, an outright ban for all students is neither equitable nor enforceable.  Educators need to distinguish between its use as a slur and its use among Black students as a term of identity or solidarity. Afro-diasporic youth should be able to define their own identities in their own terms, without those who’ve caused harm policing its use.

Who Enforces the Ban? And Whose Discomfort Matters?

A key question often overlooked in debates about banning the N-word is: Who is the ban really for?

Many Black students in our study have reported being told to “just ignore” racial slurs directed at them. Schools are historically slow to act on anti-Black racism. And Black students are often made to feel that their experiences of discrimination are not taken seriously. Yet, when students start using the N-word—whether through ignorance, mimicry of pop culture, or intentional harm—schools suddenly rush to impose strict prohibitions. 

This pattern reflects broader institutional tendencies to act only when white discomfort is at stake. If a school that has ignored Black students’ complaints about racism suddenly bans the N-word because teachers or white students find it uncomfortable or difficult to manage, it raises the question: Whose harm and discomfort are being prioritized?

Moving Beyond Bans: A More Nuanced Approach

  1. Prioritise education over prohibition.
  2. Address racism in schools holistically.
    • Ensure policies tackling racial slurs do not ignore broader systemic racism.
    • Create clear mechanisms for addressing anti-Black racism beyond policing language.
  3. Recognise cultural spaces and self-expression.
    • Acknowledge in-group language exists in all communities.
    • Words change meaning, depending on the user. 
  4. Apply consistent standards of self-determination.
    • If schools respect LGBTQ+ students’ right to define pronouns and language, Black students should have the autonomy to navigate their own linguistic and cultural identities.

The conversation about the N-word in Australian schools is ultimately about more than just a word. It is about power, identity, and who gets to control the narrative of Blackness in this country. Schools must move beyond superficial bans and engage in meaningful, historically informed conversations about race, language, and belonging.

Schools should focus on fostering understanding and supporting students’ cultural identities. Policies addressing racism must be driven by the needs of those most affected—not by the discomfort of those in power. They should not impose blanket prohibitions that fail to account for nuance.

By prioritising education over censorship, schools can create spaces where Afro-diasporic youth feel seen, heard, and respected—not just disciplined into silence.

More about our researchers and our research

These researchers are at the University of South Australia. This research is supported by the Australian Government through the Australian Research Council (project DE230100249). The views expressed herein are those of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Australian Government or Australian Research Council.

Our researchers are: Melanie Baak, Mwangaza Milunga, Benjamin Grant-Skiba, Yahya Djomani Ousmane, Zamda Omba, Habibat Ogunbanwo, Shaza Hamed, Elaine Ncube, Efon Luwala, Jeanne Munyonge. They are pictured in our page header. How long did it take? Over two years.
Here’s more on the research team. It’s a collaboration between a white settler of Anglo-European heritage and nine youth co-researchers with varying connections to the African diaspora. They have engaged in over 150 hours of conversations with African diaspora young people across Australia.

Through peer interviews, Zoom discussions, and in-person workshops, we explored questions of belonging and identity. We also explored the challenges Afro-diasporic youth navigate in school settings.

In 2024, we extended this work by collaborating with 13 teachers across three secondary schools in year-long action research projects aimed at enhancing belonging for African diaspora students in their schools.

school inequality

We know Australia has a private/public divide. But there’s even more inequality

inequity in schooling, public schooling in Australia, , , , , , ,

A major driver of inequality in contemporary education systems internationally is the segregation of students from different social backgrounds into separate schools. Australian education separates students from different backgrounds to a greater extent than many other countries. Research we will present at the forthcoming AARE Conference reveals competition between unequally resourced schools makes many parents feel they must choose an alternative to their local school. Although a major contributor to this separation is the existence of a large fee-paying private school sector that is over-resourced through public subsidies, there are also major divisions within public education. We note in particular the rise of specialist curriculum programs in otherwise comprehensive public secondary schools. These present major risks to equity.

More inequality: The new selectivity in public schooling 

There are over 366 specialist curriculum programs in otherwise comprehensive public secondary schools in Australia. Each has its own admission criteria. Specialist or special interest programs are educational initiatives that focus on specific subject areas, such as sports, language, arts and STEM, delivered through dedicated classes and providing advanced learning and enrichment opportunities not available to other students. 

One avenue for improving equity in education is to support the broadening of curriculum options and programs that can appeal to a diverse range of students and interests and strengthen demand for public education. However, when specialist programs are used by schools to cherry-pick students rather than prioritising the needs of local communities, this generates new problems. Instead of broadening options, this use of specialist programs creates a new hierarchy that further segregates students between and within schools. Some parents have more time, resources and knowledge than others to compete for places for their children in select-entry specialist programs.

A two-speed public system

The reality of high-demand public schools in middle-class neighbourhoods is in stark contrast to that of schools without capacity constraints and located in working-class neighbourhoods. Public schools with established reputations often leverage high demand to grant selective access to those who live beyond their enrolment zone, with specialist and accelerated learning programs providing mechanisms to do so. Those who travel from further afield are also more likely to be middle-class and high-achieving. The ‘choice’ to attend high-demand schools is also available to those who are able to buy or rent within the zone specifically for the purpose of gaining access to a desired school.

Schools face threats to enrolment numbers from private schools. To combat that, public schools make use of specialist programs to shore-up local demand and to build student engagement. In working-class neighbourhoods, vocational and alternative curriculum offerings are particularly popular. Under such conditions, specialist programs do not present such a threat to the model of comprehensive public schooling where education is viewed as an entitlement. In Victoria, where close to one in two students enrol in a government school outside their catchment area, the Education Department has made clear its attachment to this local comprehensive model. That prevents schools from using curriculum grounds to enrol students from beyond their catchment zones.

Learning from the past on the drivers of inequality

For specialist programs to broaden appeal rather than contribute to segregation, it is important to learn from the mistakes of the past. The first lesson is that demand for, and success at, gaining access to selective schools is extremely uneven. Greater efforts are needed to ensure that access to specialist programs is democratic and inclusive so that all benefit. Fees should not be charged for entrance examinations, and enrolment procedures need to be carefully re-examined. The efforts made by many universities to improve equity in access can serve as an example here. That includes the move away from examination results as measures of student potential. 

The second lesson is that competition between schools does not necessarily increase innovation and diversity in curriculum offerings for all. Competition drives schools to attract students who will perform highest on traditional measures and are least taxing on scarce resources. That increases inequality.

Many public school principals are keen to retain high-achieving students and to appeal to middle-class families. Instead, schools should be encouraged to collaborate with each other. That includes the provision of specialist programs at local schools. For example, including participating in programs beyond the school in which they are enrolled. Further, interest in specialist programs should be used to drive offerings available to all students, with no access barriers.

Looking forward towards genuine choice in education

For families and students, availability of specialist curriculum programs across diverse curriculum areas, including sports and vocational courses, is appealing. They demonstrate that public education is doing more than providing a bare minimum, as some parents perceive it to be.

We need to be vigilant against the re-emergence of streaming and academic selectivity as a defining characteristic of public education and a byproduct of the existence of specialist programs. In much of the country, streaming and separate high and technical schools were abandoned in the 1970s and 1980s, as Year 12 completion through a common qualification became the default setting in all jurisdictions.

What’s the best way forward? Reduce market pressure in a system with a large private sector pushing public schools to reintroduce forms of internal differentiation. More equitable resourcing would be a good starting point.

The broadening of curriculum options and choice to appeal to students from all backgrounds is to be welcomed. There is a role for specialist programs and for vocational learning in engaging students who struggle with or are less interested in some traditional curriculum options. Transforming traditional areas, such as STEM and humanities, is also worthwhile and school-level innovation can contribute in important ways to improving the quality of social and learning experiences at school. The proviso is that such benefits must be broadly available, rather than placed within discretionary selection procedures and fee-charging testing regimes. 

Not the only division

Public versus private is not the only division in Australian schooling. But it is one that ends up distorting public schooling through the pressure to attract particular types of students, keeping out others. The big losers are working-class schools and students. They are located in sites that are by-passed by peers being driven to high-demand middle-class schools. Ultimately students, families and societies lose in a system that divides students, rather than bringing them together.

We need policies that broaden options without re-creating the hierarchies of a by-gone era.

Left to right: Joel Windle is associate professor of education at UniSA. He researches educational inequalities and curriculum differentiation in Australia and Brazil. Laura Perry is a professor of education at Murdoch University. She is a specialist in comparative research on educational marketisation and equity.

Quentin Maire is a senior research fellow in the Faculty of Education at the University of Melbourne. His research focuses on social inequalities in school systems internationally. 

Palestine teachers

Palestine: is it possible for teachers to be neutral?

anti-colonialism, civics and citizenship education, , , , , ,

Interest in Palestine amongst students and the wider public raises an age-old question regarding the teaching profession: can educators be neutral and objective? Is it possible for teachers to discuss what is happening right now across the Gaza Strip in ways that maintain an ‘unbiased’ position? 

State governments and conservative commentators have attacked teachers who have shown solidarity with Palestine or have dared to discuss the current genocide in Gaza within schools. The NSW Minister for Education, Pru Carr, has taken issue with teachers who wear Palestinian scarves in schools. She has said, “We rely on them [teachers] to be impartial in the classroom.” Similarly, Victorian Education Minister, Ben Carroll, warned educators about participating in any organised activity in support of Palestine. Carroll stated that ‘teachers in government schools must be unbiased and not have political agendas’. 

Students in Australian schools want to talk about Palestine

For over a year, we have seen school students assemble and actively rally in support of school students in Gaza. Not since the student climate protests have we seen such enthusiasm amongst Australian students. In almost every capital city, and some regional areas, students have participated in strikes in solidarity with Palestinians. In the course of mobilising, we are witnessing students become ‘active and informed’ on Palestine. Yet, school students participating in these strikes have been scolded by politicians and conservative commentators. They have told students to stay in class and ‘educate’ themselves. 

Take the NSW Premier, Chris Minns. He condemned the student strikes, stating: “If you [students] want to change the world, get an education.” A student protesting in Wollongong responded, ‘Because I am educated I am here, because I am informed I am here at this rally … I would love to be at school, I would love for the children of Gaza to be at school’. 

Similarly, hundreds of school students in Melbourne defied the Victorian Education Minister’s condemnation of their strike. The Minister Ben Carroll said students should be in school. A parent of a student protestor responded, “Young people are often presented as being naïve or ignorant and shouldn’t have an opinion when it comes to politics – I disagree.” Another student stated, “They’re not really teaching it in class. So the only way you’re going to find out is if you come to the rallies; educate yourself because you’re not learning any of it at school. It’s not even getting mentioned at school.”

Educators are told to be ‘impartial’ and ‘unbiased’ about Palestine

Similar to students, educators themselves have organised ‘Teachers for Palestine’ groups across NSW and Victoria. These groups have led rallies and held Zoom sessions to discuss incorporating content about Palestine in the curriculum. They have also discussed how to support students currently striking for Palestine. Two major groups include Teachers and School Staff for Palestine – NSW and Teachers/Staff for Palestine in Victoria. In some cases, educators have shown solidarity by openly supporting student strikes and wearing Palestinian Keffiyehs (scarves) or watermelon badges. 

Teacher unions have supported these initiatives and even passed motions that acknowledge the rights of teachers to discuss the current genocide with their students. For example, the NSW Teachers Federation Vice-President pointed out educators have a long history of publicly supporting anti-war and social justice causes. Similarly, the Australian Education Union sent its members a bulletin about the right to respectfully discuss Palestine in classrooms.

Recently, on the eve of ‘R U Ok Day’, the NSW Teachers for Palestine group posted the following:

Teaching is a political act

A common argument for teacher neutrality is that it avoids students being brainwashed. But the purpose of critical approaches to citizenship education is not to tell students what to think. It is to support them to ask questions. When the questions are curtailed, we all lose as a democracy, and we lose the opportunity to challenge injustice.

A second argument for neutrality, or more precisely, silence, is that there is no room for politics in the curriculum. However the Australian Curriculum encourages engagement with the world and with the interests that students bring across multiple subject areas. Recognising what students bring with them to school should include recognising that they are developing an understanding of conflict and politics before they enter the classroom door. There is no point pretending that politics does not exist.

All education is political

We commonly engage initial teacher education students with theories of critical pedagogies. For example, Paulo Freire argued in his landmark book The Pedagogy of the Oppressed that ‘all education is political; teaching is never a neutral act’. Similar words were echoed by bell hooks, who wrote in Teaching to Transgress that ‘no education is politically neutral’. More recently, a pioneer of critical pedagogy Henry Giroux wrote: “Those arguing that education should be neutral are really arguing for a version of education in which no one is accountable.”

Teachers are citizens and workers. They have political opinions and many are members of labour organisations. They are also responsible for helping their students to become informed, questioning and critical citizens. Pressure from educational authorities for teachers to hide their beliefs and opinions is damaging for both students and teachers.

Governments are keen to avoid political or politicised topics. Their eyes are more firmly on  negative media attention than on ethical considerations. A slippery standard is therefore applied. Almost any topic can become politicised or attract media attention, which makes schools increasingly timid. And attempts to silence discussion are applied unevenly even with similar issues. The wars in Ukraine and Gaza have been treated very differently by governments and inside schools, despite the fact that both have similarities in raising sensitive issues of conflict and trauma.

The teaching profession cannot be neutral, unbiased nor objective

As citizens, teachers and students take on multiple roles. They constantly give off signals about their beliefs, even if in subtle or unrecognised ways. As long as these support the status quo, they are unquestioned. But when they go against the status quo, there is a need to make claims on the rights that all students and teachers have to express themselves. A long tradition in critical scholarship shows that ‘apolitical education’ is a myth. What is often framed as ‘neutrality’ and ‘objectivity’ within education systems stems from Eurocentric white supremacy. 

Palestine presents us with a reminder that education can never be neutral. As outlined previously, many teachers and students wish to engage in discussions about Palestine. The Australian curriculum presents many opportunities despite the condemnation that various Education Ministers have offered. It is this contradiction that affirms how neutrality in the context of an on-going genocide, live streamed to the social media devices of our students can be one that supports it, as Paulo Freire himself once said, ‘Washing one’s hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral’. 

From left to right: Ryan Al-Natour works as a lecturer in teacher education at Charles Sturt University on Wiradjuri Country. He is written widely about antiracist teaching, social justice pedagogies and Indigenous education. Joel Windle is an associate professor of education at the University of South Australia. He has undertaken research on educational inequalities and community activism in Australia and Brazil. Sarah McDonald is a lecturer based at the Centre for Research in Education & Social Inclusion at the University of South Australia where she conducts research in the areas of gendered subjectivities, social mobility, social barriers, and inequalities in education.

Student encampment at Adelaide University - Kaurna Yerta 5 May 2024. Photo: Jack Desbiolles

Are student encampments sites of pedagogy and learning?

civics and citizenship education, pedagogy, , , , , ,

When you enter the encampment, you see colour: the red, green, black and white of Palestinian flags and posters and the red, yellow and black of Aboriginal flags, clusters of multicoloured tents and the vibrant hues of children’s artwork. If you walk around, you pass the community library, public notice boards and tables sharing leaflets. There’s a central gathering space with circles of chairs and cushions in watermelon red and green. There may be paintbrushes scattered around from the latest banner painting session, a film screening underway. There may be a researching bee taking place, or myriad teach-ins. You’ll likely see a plurality of students of various religious, racial, gender, class and political positionings, all committed to working together. You might catch the scent of smoky fire cheese fry pans or see students cooking up some other feast from the community pantry.

If you stop and browse in the library or scan the noticeboard, chances are you’ll be greeted by students who are keen to chat about their concerns, local and global happenings and what the encampment is demanding: disclose ties to weapons companies, all funding and research deals; divest and cut ties with all weapons manufacturers; solidarity with Palestine and an end to the occupation. And chances are students will tell you it’s good that you are here. Together, we might ask the question of how can university students and staff support each other to teach and research in solidarity with Palestine? The message from students is clear: “Come down to the Gaza Solidarity Encampment. Help us build the anti-war campaign and stand in solidarity with Palestine.”

A global movement

Similar Gaza solidarity encampments have arisen on university campuses globally. Most establishment figures and institutions have insisted on crackdowns, closures and punitive measures. Encampments in the USA, Germany, the Netherlands and Greece have suffered threats and harsh physical and procedural treatment from police and universities.  Mainstream media portray the encampments as hotbeds of antisemitism and violence. Such portrayals bear little resemblance to these camps’ operations.

Through social media the students decide on their own portrayals. They also publish formal statements and have their own student news outlets. Sharing is to inform, explain, inspire, warn. Confronting images of the NYPD invading student encampments across New York City ricochet around the globe.

What encampments teach

All encampments raise awareness about the justice of the Palestinian cause and the horrors of the war in Gaza.  They demand their universities disclose and end their association with suppliers of arms to the Israeli state. Banners read ‘Disclose Divest. We will not stop. We will not rest’. ‘Stop the lies. Cut the ties’. If they meet with university leaders, if a university agrees to some demands, the students reveal it. They denounce those leaders who refuse to talk.

They post images of camps, campus marches with allies, occupations, die ins, rings of staff protecting students, of graduation ceremonies where gowned students unfurl Free Palestine banners and the Palestinian flag as they receive their awards. Through social media they hear each other’s chants and slogans, see each other’s banners and flags. ‘Stop Genocide Ceasefire Now’ ‘Jews against Genocide’ And they hear each other’s insistent voices— speaking, praying, singing, reciting poetry. Messages of support and solidarity flow out, flow in. Palestinians in Gaza send thanks. The students share lists and maps showing the latest encampments. A map of the Nordic countries is headed Students all across the Nordics are mobilising …. 13 encampments, 12 cities, 4 countries. Another map appears of Belgium’s five encampments; similarly, a map of Sweden.

They also share why, when and how some encampments end—seldom willingly. One student asks ‘What kind of system do we live in where an institution can call the police on you for opposing genocide?’

Pedagogic spaces

Moving through any encampment you might see a banner with the encampment’s ground rules, laying the foundation for a community collectively governed. We might see students reading books from the encampment library or gathering to prepare the next speech, rally, banner or chant. The air will be abuzz with the sound of community in the making. Students are becoming practiced in all manner of community actions, educating, caring and creating.

In the encampments, we see, feel, hear, envision and are invited into the cocreation of student-led pedagogies of action, protest, disruption and insurgence pedagogies of love and carepedagogies of peace and encircling pedagogies that exceed/seed/cede  We see the enactment of education as something you do with and for other people.

A different way of doing education

University encampments invite us into a different way of doing education that defies institutional control. These are spaces that nurture student-led movements which are disrupting and expanding the boundaries of education. Such student-led projects extend beyond racial, religious, national and disciplinary boundaries, and refuse to be co-opted into the institutional status quo. Attending to student-led movements such as university encampments for Palestine opens possibilities for us to revitalise universities as generative spaces of study.

These students are refusing to spend their time of higher learning being processed as obedient units of the colonial class system that sacrifices our humanity, in one way or another, to the death spiral of global capitalism. They are insisting, instead, upon their right to create home, joy, and liveable futures. – Eugenia Zuroski

In the words of Eman Abdelhadi, the encampments are “gifting a new experience of wholeness”. They have “helped heal some of the wounds of the past seven months and reenergized us for the fight ahead.”  The students’ university’s connections with the world confront the public university’s silence about and repression of what is happening in the world.

Don’t ask why students are protesting. Ask what died in you that you are not

The students have highlighted scholasticide in Palestine. The destruction of universities, schools, libraries, museums. The loss of many teachers, students, academics, intellectuals, writers, artists. In contrast most university leaders have been mute — failing to mourn the loss of what they claim to value.  Failing to offer solace.  Failing linguistically too. Any encampment student could explain that From the river to the sea and Intifada are not antisemitic and have special meaning for the Palestinian people. Largely, the leadership ignores this. Neither do they want to learn from Jewish members of the encampments who insist that Jewishness must not be used to justify genocide. Like many members of the Jewish community, when they say, Never again, they mean never again for anyone.

What university leaders could learn

University leaders could learn from the students’ ethical clarity. The students are providing the moral leadership expected from sites of knowledge and learning. And many staff are fearlessly joining them, despite the silencing chill from above. In contrast university leaders talk of Jewish students’ fear of attending campus and of the inconvenience of disruption and damage. If they visited the encampments and looked at the students’ screens, they would see the everyday, every night fear, disruption and damage of the Gaza war. This might help them gain a sense of perspective.

And having witnessed the encampments’ liveliness, diversity, community engagement and transnational solidarity they might think twice about the loss of the university’s soul and conscience under their watch.  

Our job is not to protect the institution or its timelines or its profits or its myths of impartiality. Our job is to be strong for our students and to protect them every way we can so that they can realize their own visions of peace and liberation for Palestine. As you go to class today, remember, there are no universities left in Gaza. – Eugenia Zuroski

Main image: Student encampment at Adelaide University – Kaurna Yerta 5 May 2024. Photo: Jack Desbiolles

Jane Kenway is an elected Fellow of the Academy of Social Sciences, Australia, Emeritus Professor at Monash University and Professorial Fellow at the University of Melbourne. Her research expertise is in educational sociology.  

Katie Maher lectures in Education at the University of South Australia. She co-chairs the Pedagogies for Justice research group and is a Series Editor for AARE’s Local/Global Issues in Education book series.