CRITICAL CL ASSROOMS

Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and

Silence in the Classroom

Gilda L. Ochoa and Daniela Pineda

While teaching about race, ethnicity, and class from a critical pedagogical stand-
point, we might not only encounter student resistance to learning about systems
of domination but we should also be aware of the ways in which power, privilege,
and exclusion in the larger society may be reproduced in our own classrooms. In
this article, we recount how we used freewriting and discussions in an attempt to
deconstruct the power dynamics in an upper-division seminar on Latinas/os and
education.1
Though a majority of the students in the course were first-generation Latinas,
several middle- and upper-middle-class White students tended to participate the
most. This dynamic resulted in a situation in which class discussions were steered
away from the focus on Latinas/os and unequal educational practices to a perspec-
tive that reinforced an ideology of equality and a climate that privileged dominant
modes of classroom communication. Since these patterns were precisely the ones
the course topics and readings were meant to deconstruct, we turned the gaze onto
the classroom as we observed the reproduction of inequality there and used free-
writing and discussions to uncover the unequal ways in which students were expe-
riencing the space.
Though most studies on classroom interactions have been conducted on chil-
dren in the K–12 system, a growing number of academics are writing about unequal
power dynamics among college and university students.2 This burgeoning scholar-

Radical History Review

Issue 102 (Fall 2008) doi 10.1215/01636545-2008-012
© 2008 by MARHO: The Radical Historians’ Organization, Inc.

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46 Radical History Review

ship suggests how the prevailing ideologies of color and class blindness or “power
evasion” are influencing students’ perspectives and classroom dynamics. 3 In the
current era, in which ideologies of power evasion prevail, it is not surprising when
students enter the classroom articulating dominant perspectives of equality, meri-
tocracy, and individualism. These neoconservative perspectives are premised on the
idea that equal opportunities exist and that social and economic differences stem
not from systems of inequality but rather from individual and group deficiencies in
work ethics and cultural attributes.4 Holding such dominant ideologies can hinder
an awareness of power differentials, privileges, and the relational aspects of power,
privilege, and exclusion.5
To understand the dynamics in our classroom, we consider how dominant
ideologies and traditional schooling practices have negatively influenced the per-
spectives and behaviors of students, albeit in distinct ways according to race and eth-
nicity, class, and gender. Our experiences suggest the multiple constraints encoun-
tered by those of us teaching against dominant ideologies and traditional schooling.
They also illustrate the importance of openly discussing classroom dynamics and
the benefits of collaborative teaching as ways to create more democratic spaces that
enhance learning and challenge exclusionary thoughts and practices.

Teaching against Traditional Schooling

The structure of traditional classrooms reinforces the status quo, limiting criti-
cal thinking and self-reflection.6 Traditional classrooms are based on the “bank-
ing model of education” in which the instructor is positioned as the conveyor of
knowledge and students are expected to passively receive information.7 Students are
rewarded for being silent, obedient, and agreeable or for participating only when
called on.8 Since the professor is conceived as the expert, little space is provided for
students to enter into dialogue, share their personal experiences, reflect on how they
are affected by the course, or critically assess the course curriculum and classroom
pedagogy. Typically, dissension and conflict are discouraged.
When students are treated as empty receptacles into which knowledge is
deposited, what they know and experience is often devalued and disregarded. Per-
sonal experiences may be trivialized as anecdotes or as irrelevant to the course
material, while academic theories and “facts” are perceived as more rigorous and
important.9 Knowledge is presented as something to be acquired; it is static, distant
material that remains disembodied from members of the class.
By the time students begin college in the United States, they have undergone
years of socialization not only about their expected roles but also about proper modes
of comportment in the traditional classroom. These preferred modes of decorum are
raced, classed, and gendered as particular ways of communicating are valued. “Stan-
dard English” is the privileged language, and students receive various messages that
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 47

loudness, anger, laughter, interruptions, disagreements, and speaking with emotions

or with their hands are unacceptable and disruptive.10
Instructors interested in challenging the status quo and preventing the bore-
dom and passivity of students advocate for the creation of empowering or libera-
tory classrooms. These classrooms are student-centered, cooperative, participatory,
reflective, and negotiated between the instructor and students.11 They provide
opportunities to “relate personal growth to public life” and devise strategies for per-
sonal and societal transformation.12
Even when we aim to create student-centered and democratic classrooms,
all students and teachers do not experience these classrooms in the same manner.13
Students who have encountered an educational system in which school officials and
course curricula reflect and affirm their social locations and perspectives are more
likely to exhibit higher levels of entitlement, ownership, and confidence in the class-
room compared with students whose schooling has been less positive.14 For example,
studies indicate that when class participation is encouraged, White males tend to
speak more frequently and for longer periods of time.15 Students of Color may have
experiences of being treated as “native informants” who are asked to “educate” the
class on the histories, experiences, or opinions of an entire group of people.16 In par-
ticular, compared to their peers, Latinas are less likely to feel psychologically safe in
school environments. From an early age, Latinas report fears of speaking up in the
classroom.17 In a student-centered classroom aiming to challenge more traditional
forms of education, these patterns can result in the continued centering of white-
ness, middle-classness, and masculinity and the marginalization of groups of color,
the working class, and women.
Fortunately, for those of us looking for strategies to deconstruct dominant
ideologies and classroom practices, there are progressive tenets and critical theories
within and outside academia that can be used across disciplinary contexts.18 We
have found that some of the most exciting work on teaching and learning comes
from inter- and multidisciplinary approaches.19 Our training and experiences in the
classroom lead us to draw from sociology and Chicana/o studies.
In sociology, C. W. Mills’s sociological imagination helps students and us to
uncover taken-for-granted practices and create student-centered classrooms. Mills’s
sociological-imagination perspective is crucial for strengthening students’ critical
thinking skills. It encourages students to deindividualize problems and instead see
the relationships between “public issues of social structure” and “personal troubles
of mileu.”20 Likewise, neo-Marxist, racial-formation, feminist, and other conflict
theories allow for analyses of the persisting inequalities of power and resources as
they are structured in society and differentially influence lives by race and ethnicity,
class, and gender.21
Similar to some of the perspectives advanced by conflict theorists, the ori-
48 Radical History Review

gins of Chicana/o studies make it a discipline that challenges dominant perspectives,

focuses on the societal factors influencing Chicanos/as and Latinos/as, emphasizes
social change research and scholarship, and valorizes knowledge from personal expe-
riences and family histories.22 By using frameworks and readings from multiple disci-
plines that center on the analysis of race, class, and gender, instructors and students
are provided with new ways to think about classroom dynamics and to understand
the significance of social location for life chances, experiences, and perspectives.

Teaching Chicanos/Latinas and Education

As a professor and an undergraduate teaching assistant, we worked together in the
fall of 2001, combining progressive aspects of multiple disciplines to teach Chica-
nos/Latinas and Education. This upper-division seminar examined the historical
and institutional processes related to the educational experiences of Chicanos/as
and Latinos/as in the United States. The goals of the class were: (1) to strengthen
students’ sociological imaginations by providing them with frameworks to under-
stand how educational experiences and outcomes are influenced by historical, eco-
nomic, political, and social factors; and (2) to improve students’ critical thinking
and analytical skills through active participation in class discussions and writing
assignments.
All of the course books combined institutional analyses with lived experi-
ences. Students first read Chicano Education in the Era of Segregation, a histori-
cal and neo-Marxist analysis of segregation, Americanization programs, and track-
ing.23 The remaining books, Subtractive Schooling, Latinos and Education, Latino
High School Graduation, and sections from Keeping Track, explore the relation-
ships between school factors and educational performance, focusing on the effects
of tracking, teacher expectations, and educational resources on educational out-
comes.24 The final book in the class, Language, Culture, and Power, allowed stu-
dents to consider the politics of language and forms of resistance.25
The class was structured as a seminar that emphasized dialogue, reflection,
and reciprocity. Aiming to create a student-centered classroom, we positioned our-
selves as facilitators and encouraged active participation. Classes were run as dis-
cussions guided by questions and students’ contributions. To foster opportunities
for students to design and structure the class, students facilitated discussions of the
course books. To introduce students to the work on critical or empowering educa-
tion, we gave them as their first reading assignment a chapter from Ira Shor on
education as politics.26 Shor’s chapter describes traditional classrooms as powerful
agents in the economic and cultural reproduction of class relations and allowed for a
reflection of how we might be cautious of reproducing hierarchies of race, ethnicity,
and class in our classroom.
Latinas/os constituted the majority in this class of twenty-four students, with
Mexican American women predominating. About a third of the Latinas were return-
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 49

ing students who were instructional aides and teaching assistants in local K–12 public
schools. The composition of this class did not reflect the general student population
at the college, where White students between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one
predominate. About three-quarters of the 2001 senior class came from families in
which the parents earned more than $50,000 a year, and a third described their
parents as earning over $125,000. At the time of the course, Latinas/os constituted 8
percent of the general student body. Given the disparate demographics between the
class and the college, after the first day of introductions several Latinas/os expressed
excitement about sharing a classroom with other Latinas/os who had a wealth of
knowledge accumulated from their life and work experiences. They saw this class-
room as a rare space on the college campus in which their perspectives, voices, and
experiences would take center stage.
As the course progressed, it became apparent that we were not hearing from
most of the Latina/o students. Instead, the White minority in the class was speaking
more often and for longer periods of time. They openly shared their perspectives
and contrasted their educational experiences with the ones offered in the course
materials. Often these comparisons involved praising their K–12 private school
experiences without interrogating their own privileges and the systems of inequality
that perpetuated differences in school and family resources.
The contributions by a group of vocal White students also suggested that
they were more likely to accept traditional school policies and their rationales than
to consider their negative ramifications. For example, during the fourth week of the
semester, as students were leading a discussion on Gilbert Gonzalez’s Chicano Edu-
cation in the Era of Segregation, a few White students argued that employers and
school officials were acting benevolently when they supported Americanization pro-
grams and a reduction in school hours for Mexican students during the agricultural
season. Though these programs claimed to focus on immigrants’ cultural integration
into U.S. society, they often promoted policies that hindered social mobility and
reproduced race, class, and gender disparities.27
While the facial expressions and sighs made by some Latina/o students visi-
bly revealed their disagreement with such sentiments, most students did not verbally
challenge their peers’ acceptance of Americanization programs. As power-evasive
analyses began to pervade discussions, it seemed as though the energy and enthu-
siasm that Latina/o students had exhibited during the first few class meetings were
dwindling.
Individual meetings with students confirmed our observations. Two Latina/o
students approached us and shared how they felt silenced in class. One explained
the frustration he felt at going to class seeing the few White students monopolize
the conversation. He also feared that as a Person of Color his opinions and experi-
ences would be viewed from a “native-informant” perspective that assumed he was
speaking for all Latinas/os. He was finding it too exhausting to react to the dominant
50 Radical History Review

students’ comments. A second student explained that she felt too intimidated to
contribute to the discussion for fear of sounding “stupid.” She did not feel prepared
by her educational background and training to talk like the middle- and upper-
middle-class White students. Such testimonials and our observations impelled us
to address how dynamics in our class were reproducing the various forms of power
and privilege that our course readings deconstructed. We asked ourselves: How can
we create a space that does not reproduce hierarchies and dominant ideologies and
in which the perspectives and ways of participating are not Eurocentric, classist, or
masculinist?

Uncovering the Unspoken: Freewriting and Discussing Classroom Dynamics

After discussing our observations and brainstorming strategies, we decided to
address the dynamics with the class. First, we began by reminding students of our
early readings on classroom pedagogy. We then shared our observations of the class-
room dynamics. To create a space in which students could individually and col-
lectively reflect on the class and on their own contributions, we then distributed
the following questions and asked students to frankly respond to any of them in
anonymous freewrites.
• How would you describe your level of participation in this class? How does it
compare with other classes you have taken?
• Are there any patterns that you have observed with regard to our class discus-
sions?
• Have there been times in this class when you have wanted to contribute to the
discussion but have not? If so, why do you think you did not participate? Is there
something that would facilitate your verbal participation?
• Have there been times in this class when you have contributed to the class dis-
cussion perhaps more than you had to or more than was “necessary”? If so, please
expand.
• How has your social location (your position in society based on race/ethnic-
ity, class, gender, etc.) been significant in your participation in this class and in
your reaction to the course materials? How might this compare with your class-
mates?
• Are there ways in which or have there been times in this class when your partici-
pation or behavior may have affected the involvement of other students?
• Is there anything else you wish to add or reflect on?

In their freewrites and during the ensuing discussions, students described their
approaches to the class, their relationships to the course materials, and their inter-
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 51

pretations of the classroom dynamics. More than half (fourteen out of twenty-four)
referred to their racial/ethnic or class backgrounds when completing their free-
writes. Their descriptions revealed the significance of dominant ideologies and
traditional expectations for classroom behavior and suggested how race, ethnicity,
class, and gender saliently influenced their perceptions and behaviors. While some
students attributed differences in classroom participation to individual character-
istics or previous classroom experiences, most of the Students of Color reflected
on how race and ethnicity, class, and gender at the individual and societal levels
were manifesting themselves in the classroom. Only one of the self-identified White
students discussed how her social location was related to how she was experiencing
the classroom. Students’ freewrites created a crucial space in and through which we
were able to consider students’ differing expectations for the course, their reflections
on modes of communication, and the roles socialization and previous experiences
played in classroom participation.

Acknowledging Different Relationships to the Course

Students’ expectations for the class and the classroom space varied. As one of few
courses devoted to Chicanos/as and Latinos/as and one of the rare Latina/o-centered
spaces on campus, Students of Color, especially the Latina/o students, recounted
how they had hoped that this would be a place where they could share their expe-
riences and connect themselves to the course materials. One student’s freewrite
captured this desire well: “As a Chicano Studies major, I expected this class to be
a space where people like myself could freely and closely discuss our educational
experiences in the context of the class readings.” As this student’s comment sug-
gests, Chicana/o studies courses often function as sites within academia in which
students can deconstruct Eurocentric discourse and validate the relevance of their
experiences.
Since most K–12 and college courses still do not include the histories and
experiences of Latinas/os, it is not uncommon for students to complete their under-
graduate degrees without learning about these histories. As a result, Chicana/o stud-
ies classrooms often constitute places of discovery and self-reflection. One Latina
student explained: “I think I am discovering what my family has experienced and
what I have observed. . . . I am trying to identify with my history and my family’s
history and that [involves] much thought and energy because I think it is more per-
sonal.” In their freewriting and during discussions, Latina/o students emphasized
their direct relationships with the class materials. It was because of this personal
connection to the material that students realized the importance of sharing their
experiences. As one Latina wrote, “I think I love this material so much because I
am reading about my family, my history and my community” (emphasis original).
These experiences informed her analysis of the arguments presented in class. This
type of knowledge that combines personal experience, community knowledge, and
52 Radical History Review

academic scholarship is what Dolores Delgado Bernal calls “cultural intuition.”28

Cultural intuition as a lens from which to interpret schooling experiences is a unique
source of knowledge that has historically been subjugated in the traditional class-
room setting.
In comparison to many of the Students of Color, the White students shared
distinctly different experiences and frameworks. Their firsthand accounts of second-
ary schooling often revealed more positive interactions with educational institutions.
In her freewrite a Chicana recollects comments made by a White classmate — “this
one student who tells us in 5 separate comments how wonderful her private
school – grade school was. As if that should be our model for all education. But her
comments did not address language, culture, or class differences and I did not find
them uplifting to the conversation.” This student’s reflections echo the sentiment
expressed by other Students of Color who were frustrated with their White peers
whose comments often lacked critical analyses of historical and systemic inequality
and introspection about their own privileged positions.
Not only did the few White students who shared personal experiences with
their classmates speak from different locations but they were also more likely than
their Latina/o classmates to dismiss the importance of personal testimonies. Most of
the White students expressed a desire to get back to the course readings, which they
interpreted as more analytically rigorous than students’ experiences. One woman,
who described herself as coming from an all-White, upper-class community, wrote,
“I want to avoid just telling stories, and I want to learn about the subjects we are
discussing.” As this passage suggests, though the Latinas/os in the class became
subjects when they connected their lived experiences to the course materials, some
White students were reluctant to accept them as “subjects” or to see their “stories”
as important. Instead, theories and rigor were perceived to emanate from the course
authors only.
Overall, given the academic privileging of published theories and of “Euro-
centric masculinist knowledge” over the voices, experiences, and perspectives of
marginalized groups, some students had trouble accepting the pedagogical value
of sharing personal experiences and family histories in classroom spaces.29 How-
ever, based on their freewrites, as a group the Latinas/os expected that a class on
Chicanos/as and Latinos/as and education would allow them to draw on their cul-
tural intuitions.30 In contrast, while the White students generally claimed that they
wanted to avoid hearing personal experiences, when they did share their schooling
histories, they often adopted a discourse of meritocracy that camouflaged systems of
privilege and inequality. These general differences in expectations and perspectives
between the Latina/o and the White students highlight the distinct epistemological
orientations that students bring to the classroom, and they illustrate how different
relationships to the topics are often ignored, unequally valued in traditional class-
room settings, and influence classroom experiences. This class reminded us that to
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 53

the extent that courses value textbook knowledge over students’ perspectives and
experiences, we risk silencing students, marginalizing multiple histories, hindering
the development of new ideas, and stifling students’ critical thinking skills. How-
ever, since students adopt different frameworks — aware of power and inequality or
power evasive and meritocratic — to understand students’ experiences, these per-
spectives and their origins also need to be discussed and deconstructed.

Naming the Assimilationist Imperative and Unequal Ways of Communicating

Not only did the minimization of personal experiences hinder classroom participa-
tion but Students of Color also mentioned how the modes of communication in
academia stifled their contributions to discussions. Many of these modes are based
on an assimilationist imperative that demands and privileges so-called standard
English, middle- to upper-class styles of comportment, and no emotions. As one
student explained in her freewrite: “My English is not all that good. If I’m talking
and nervous, my English ‘disappears,’ and I cannot express myself to a degree where
I can get my point across.” This fear of not speaking English properly or well enough
to communicate ideas was mentioned by Latina/o immigrants, U.S.-born Latinas/os,
and other Students of Color.
The effect of the assimilationist imperative goes beyond a mastery of the
English language. Students from different backgrounds reflected on how this impera-
tive also combined with racist stereotypes to influence their classroom participation:
I knew since high school that I needed to present myself in an acceptable
manner in any setting outside my home. Once I walked out of my house, it
was no longer appropriate for me to behave in my ‘ethnic ways.’ Once I left the
house, I had to be as ‘American’ as possible. . . . I am also greatly conscious of
the fact that I do not look white; therefore, presenting myself with impeccable
English when I speak is important. I must limit myself of hand gestures and
words such as ‘um,’ ‘like,’ ‘right,’ ‘you know’ . . . I also find myself being critical
of those (especially of my gender and race) who do not carry themselves in the
similar manner that I do. (emphasis original)

I am very aware of myself as a Womyn of Color in social situations. I often

lower my voice, [act] more timid, etc. in classroom settings until I feel
comfortable and accepted.

Both of these reflections suggest how students’ awareness of raced, classed, and
gendered stereotypes of Latinas as less articulate and less intelligent can intensify
the anxiety of social interactions. As an underrepresented group among college stu-
dents in elite academic settings, Latinas/os may encounter racial/ethnic lumping
where they are assumed to be representatives of all Latinas/os. Thus while White
students on predominately White campuses may be seen as individuals, Latina/o
54 Radical History Review

students may feel pressure to present themselves in ways that do not reinforce group
stereotypes. Negotiating these expectations and stereotypes by being hyperaware of
self-presentation can be emotionally taxing and make participation in heterogeneous
classroom spaces more stressful for students underrepresented in academia.
For a few Students of Color, part of challenging the assimilationist impera-
tive involved critiquing middle- and upper-class styles of communication. Two stu-
dents detailed:
I still feel as though there is a class barrier between me and the other students.
In high school, every honors/AP class I had was with whites. I felt as though me
being black and somewhat ghetto made me different from them. I always tried
to fit, but I couldn’t.

I feel that this class is being infiltrated by a subliminal but present dose of
upper class elitism that is a trademark of [this college]. I consider myself
an intelligent and sometimes articulate individual, but I feel repressed by
this elitism. I feel that my emotions keep me from making clear arguments
because while I am trying to speak, I’m worrying immensely about whether I’m
sounding smart, incoherent or verbally incapacitated. I have a lot to contribute,
but my emotions and my fear of not sounding articulate shut me down.

Though not always addressed in the literature on critical pedagogy, class is a salient
factor influencing student participation in classroom spaces. If class elitism — or the
assimilationist imperative in general — is left unnamed, it persists as the normative
way of communicating. Students who do not or refuse to speak in such a manner
may be seen as lacking sufficient communication skills, and they may be further
silenced.
Students’ freewriting also suggested that within traditional classrooms, rules
of polite discourse and of confrontation-free interactions may also prove silenc-
ing. Several self-identified Students of Color described how at times they refrained
from contributing to discussions for fear of “offend[ing]” White students: “It’s very
challenging for me to speak my mind in classrooms with white students because
I am afraid of offending them I guess. Not that what I’ll say is an attack on them,
but really going against their ideas.” Another wrote, “I fear that sometimes I have
thoughts that might be offensive to certain individuals in the class, so I’m silenced
once again.” These comments suggest that some Students of Color not only per-
ceived their perspectives to be in stark contrast to those of their White peers but
that they were also concerned with insulting their fellow students — a worry not
raised in the freewriting of self-identified White students. Despite this concern, the
freewrites and ensuing discussions revealed that it was the Students of Color who
described being affected by their White classmates and by “upper-class elitism.”
This differential in reflection may stem from the privileged position of middle-class
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 55

and White students in institutions of higher education, where on a daily basis they
may think less about how their actions are interpreted or how they influence others
because they are the dominant group.
Students’ reflections captured the multiple ways in which an assimilationist
imperative within society and in schools inhibits active and honest classroom par-
ticipation and learning. Not only may some students remain silent or feel the need
to forgo their cultural capital and adapt to dominant ways of behavior but to the
extent that discussions about race and racism are evaded, significant understanding
about the structure of the United States is also hindered. To avoid reinforcing power
and privilege, classroom spaces should be structured with an awareness of students’
communication styles and how these different styles are unequally valued.

Breaking the Silence through Resocialization

Students’ freewrites and discussions captured the importance of unlearning
the banking method of schooling and gendered, raced, and classed expectations
that limit full participation in student-centered classrooms. In particular, Latinas
described how their previous schooling experiences had taught them to be “proper”
students who sit, listen, and do not ask questions. A returning student explained how
her schooling in Mexico did not prepare her to share her perspectives or to think
critically: “All of my education, I spent in México where in general everything is
more traditional. A student, in a way, is expected to understand and memorize the
material, not to talk about it, much less to question it.” A Latina student schooled
in the United States had undergone similar training: “I have come from classrooms
and classes where you are expected to listen, take notes and memorize things, rarely
having the time to ask questions. It is a bit intimidating and almost unbelievable that
a prof. would ask for your opinion and input.” These reflections point to the effects of
traditional schooling practices on student participation. For students who have not
been encouraged to share their perspectives, suddenly participating in a student-
centered classroom may be more than “a bit intimidating.”
In her freewrite, one student who had experienced both traditional class-
rooms and a more student-centered classroom explained how not all students had
had opportunities to share their thoughts in dialogical classrooms. When students are
suddenly asked to participate, these different experiences may become magnified.
She explained, “I have been very lucky that I had a history/English seminar class
that was based on participation.” Such differences in students’ exposure to more
democratic learning environments also provide insight into the layered challenges
that critical educators face when we decide to engage in alternative pedagogical
approaches. We must remember that simply encouraging active participation is not
enough. Encouraging participation without reflecting on students’ prior opportuni-
ties may send the message that all students possess equal levels of experience and
that students are to blame for their levels of participation.
56 Radical History Review

Students’ freewrites highlighted how a process of relearning must transcend

the classroom. In a stratified society, educators are not alone in sending unequal
messages and expectations about students’ roles and worth. One self-described poor
Chicana recounted how both her teachers and her father taught her “to never ask
questions.” As a result, she found herself thinking, “There really isn’t anything that
I can contribute to the classroom that may benefit others.” A black woman offered
a similar reflection: “My lack of participation in class is a reflection of how I see
myself versus whites. I measure my educational success based on their interpre-
tation of educational success. Sometimes I don’t articulate my thoughts/feelings
very well. Whites, as well as myself, consider this a reflection of my class and racial
background. Am I trying to say I am ashamed of where I’m from?” As these two
comments suggest, the power of racial, ethnic, class, and gender hierarchies are so
strong that they infiltrate educators’ and families’ expectations, and some students
may come to see themselves through these exclusionary lenses.
As a whole, the self-identified Students of Color attributed differences in
classroom participation to unequal modes of comportment, previous educational
opportunities, and socialization. However, there were a few freewrites in which
students did not mention their race and ethnicity, and these students tended to
blame their classmates for not participating and attributed differences in participa-
tion to individual characteristics. The following comments were illustrative: “I find
that some [students] just sit and listen. They have the same opportunity to express
themselves”; “We were all reminded often of the importance of contributions from
everyone. It is something mentioned more frequently than in any other class I have
had. If people feel uncomfortable participating in this class, I can’t imagine when
they would in any other.” Comments such as these underlined the need to decon-
struct dominant ideologies of individualism that view classrooms — like society — as
level playing fields in which dynamics of power and inequality are not significant.
In these cases, the underlying assumption was that any and all students should feel
comfortable participating. If they did not do so, something was wrong with them.
Thus the solution must concern specific students and not the entire class. Given
the prevalence of dominant beliefs of individualism and meritocracy, working to
create more democratic, student-centered classrooms requires the difficult task of
unlearning years of socialization and stereotyping both within and outside schools
and encouraging students to shift their paradigms from notions of equality to an
awareness of power and inequality.

Working to Create a More Inclusive Classroom

While openly addressing classroom dynamics proved risky and made some students
uncomfortable, there were several positive outcomes from this exercise. Most stu-
dents seemed to appreciate the opportunity to reflect on their levels of participation
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 57

and on the classroom dynamics. As one student explained: “I have never been asked
to share my feelings about this matter in other classrooms, and now that I have, it
makes me feel important. If all the professors here would do the same and make a
sincere effort to provide a comfortable atmosphere in which ALL students can par-
ticipate, I think I would’ve gained so much more in my last three years.”
Throughout this process we realized that it was very important to include
students in the intervention-strategies process. Asking for student input was suc-
cessful because it reinforced the idea behind creating a democratic classroom envi-
ronment in which we all contribute to the creation of the learning environment.
This approach also worked because when students gave suggestions about how to
structure the class, they were more likely to actively participate in instituting these
changes. For instance, the class shared strategies: some offered to speak less and set
a rule to only speak twice until all in the class had spoken; others wanted the class
to be structured as a lecture; the most common suggestion was to have more small-
group discussions. After having this discussion, we found that students were more
aware of their participation and made an earnest effort to abide by the new rules.
They felt invested in making the classroom work, and they had a stake in changing
their behaviors and beliefs.
The freewriting and discussions allowed some students to rethink their
assumptions that the classroom constituted an equal and fair space in which all
students had the freedom to participate. Two students wrote:
I have also been realizing that my level of comfort with class participation
can monopolize class discussion — and make people who are less comfortable
with speaking in class feel excluded — and I feel bad about that. . . . I
agree that there have been patterns of class discussion — and part of this is
probably due to personality differences and preferences in speaking or not
speaking — though part of it may be due to comfort.

I have a big mouth when I want to speak. I don’t let others speak when they
would like. I really do wish that the women who are of non-traditional college
age would speak up more. A few of them speak often, others nothing at all. I
enjoy the theory and the readings, but their experiences in the classroom adds
[sic] a whole dimension on that, that those of us with little or no classroom
experience can’t pretend to be knowledgeable about.

By thinking about the course discussions, such students became more conscious of
how not all were experiencing the class equally. They also began to realize how their
own behaviors might negatively influence the classroom dynamics.
Freewriting and discussions also provided an opportunity for students to
reflect on how the prevalence of racial and ethnic segregation in U.S. schools had
58 Radical History Review

hampered their experiences with cross-racial and cross-ethnic dialogues about race
and racism. In particular, one White student’s e-mail suggested how this class may
have been one of the only times during which Whites inhabited a Latina/o-centered
space. This experience forced at least one student to reflect on her privileges:
I thought a lot about what we discussed today in class and was incredibly
worked up, although I never said anything. Which was my point. I never say
anything in class, for one specific reason, I am a minority in our class. Yes, I am
from a White privileged community and I have not had the same experiences
a[s] those in our class nor will I ever. I have been stigmatized as an affluent and
privileged White female, yet I too have a very PASSIONATE interest in the
subjects we are discussing . . . . I did not set up this elite constriction placed on
the classroom, and would do ANYTHING to make this disappear, but that is
impossible. I will just end this with my desire to understand while at the same
time, knowing that I will NEVER.

Like the Students of Color in the class, this student was very invested in the course
materials. Likewise, she was equally frustrated with the system of inequality that
she and her classmates have inherited. Though she realized that she benefited from
this construction, she wanted to abolish the system that hindered cross-racial and
cross-ethnic dialogue and understanding.
Such discussions prompted some students to reflect on their identities and
on how they were implicated in their learning process. As a student wrote, “I have
been pushed to explore my identity and [this] has increased my passion for social
issues. My passion for things like this causes me to speak out.” In her case, such
reflections actually increased her willingness to speak out. However, there were
other students for whom grappling with these issues led to other complexities.
This is exemplified by an e-mail from an Asian American student who began to
understand the multiple dimensions of class and explored what this meant for her
as a student activist:
The issue of class did not occur to me. . . . my understanding of class did not
reach beyond the realm of financial. It didn’t occur to me to think about the
privileges that were allotted to me by attending a private school. . . . How do
I discuss or understand what is going on in terms of this class if I, as an Asian
American woman, cannot understand the experience of being Latina(o)? How
do I move past my privileged state? . . . I understand the issues of patriarchy,
racism, sexism, heterosexism and classism but is understanding them not
enough?

The strategy allowed students like the one above to deconstruct their own privi-
leged social locations. These issues clearly merited more time than we could devote
to them during class. So we structured outside opportunities to continue the class
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 59

discussions. During these informal meetings, we allowed for students to set the
agenda by asking them to select topics of discussion.
Another successful component of our strategy was cooperative teaching.
Having a cofacilitator gave us the opportunity to compare class observations. Since
some students felt more comfortable speaking to the teaching assistant about their
feelings toward their peers, this gave the students one more option to speak up. As
we collaborated to design the type of intervention we would pursue, it also proved
beneficial to pool our energies and resources.

What Could Have Worked Better?

In spite of our efforts to manage the situation in a way that would make all students
feel included, the size of the class made it difficult to accomplish this goal. Even after
implementing extra class sessions, there were some students who could not attend.
These changes also put additional stress on our time as instructors. Since only some
students had more opportunities to interact with their peers and us, not all students
benefited from the extra discussions. Retrospectively, a smaller class would have
benefited all students involved and given us more flexibility as instructors.
Asking students to keep class journals is another strategy that would have
complemented our discussions. The class intervention evoked strong emotional
reactions from many students. These feelings of anger and frustration over “igno-
rant” comments from peers made it clear that different students came to our class
at different places in their understandings of systems of oppression. At times, the
extra discussions served as a venue to consider these frustrations. However, since
this type of growth is a process, keeping a journal for such reflection may have
reinforced our efforts. Reaction journals would have allowed us to check in with
individual students, and we could have used journal reflections as points of depar-
ture for discussions.

Conclusion
Our experience in deconstructing traditional schooling sheds light on the many
challenges that critical educators face as we attempt to create student-centered
spaces. If we are not careful, we risk reinforcing systems of power and inequality in
our classrooms, as well as the dominating ideologies that maintain hierarchies. We
learned that we need multiple strategies to confront the pervasive control that soci-
etal structures have in our daily exchanges and interactions. We had to debunk the
myth of the classroom as a neutral space in which all students are equally centered
and can participate freely. Freewrites provided us with a space to begin discussing
the significance of social location for students’ relationship with the course materi-
als, how they approached the class, and how they interpreted the differing levels
of participation. Rather than focusing simply on Chicanos/as and Latinos/as and
education as a topic of study removed from our classroom, we aimed to expand the
60 Radical History Review

learning process by implicating all of us in the very systems we were reading about
and deconstructing.
The strategies we employed in this classroom setting can be applied to mul-
tiple arenas that endeavor to provide authentic learning and teaching. Our expe-
riences not only revealed how traditional classroom settings can reinforce faculty
power and privilege and the silencing of students but also how uncontested dia-
logical classrooms can reproduce racial, class, and gender hierarchies among stu-
dents. Using the classroom to name and deconstruct the ramifications of power and
inequality structurally, institutionally, ideologically, and interpersonally makes for a
crucial step in creating empowering and liberating classrooms, critically informed
students, and self-reflective teachers. We have found that cofacilitating, actively
addressing classroom dynamics, and involving students in this reflective process all
can serve to enhance instructor and student investment in the creation of authentic
learning environments. In the end, the critical frameworks, experiences, and tools
developed within the classroom can then more strategically prepare all of us for
transferring our power-aware and democratic perspectives to other spaces attempt-
ing to create more just societies.

Notes
We thank the students enrolled in this course whose personal, academic, and emotional
engagement pushed us to think more rigorously about teaching and about our own roles as
instructors and learners. We also thank the Evelyn B. Craddock McVicar Memorial Fund, which
provided financial support for the teaching assistantship through the Craddock-McVicar Award.
1. While we are aware of the political nature of ethnic labels and of their shortcomings, we
employ the terms most commonly used in the academic setting we are discussing. We define
Latina/o as any individual of Latin American descent. The term Chicana/o is used to refer
to individuals of Mexican descent who were born in the United States or who migrated to
the United States. For a broader discussion, see Adela de la Torre and Beatríz M. Pesquera,
Building with Our Hands: New Directions in Chicana Studies (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1993).
2. See Polly Fassinger, “Professors’ and Students’ Perceptions of Why Students Participate in
Class,” Teaching Sociology 24 (1995): 25 – 33; Angela T. Haddad and Leonard Lierberman,
“From Student Resistance to Embracing the Sociological Imagination: Unmasking Privilege,
Social Conventions, and Racism,” Teaching Sociology 30 (2002): 328 – 41; Betsy Lucal,
“Oppression and Privilege: Toward a Relational Conceptualization of Race,” Teaching
Sociology 24 (1996): 245 – 55; Margaret L. Hunter and Kimberly D. Nettles, “What about
the White Women? Racial Politics in a Women’s Studies Classroom,” Teaching Sociology 27
(1999): 385 – 97.
3. Ruth Frankenberg, White Women, Race Matters: The Social Construction of Whiteness
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993).
4. Eduardo Bonilla-Silva, Racism without Racists: Color-Blind Racism and the Persistence of
Racial Inequality in the United States (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2006).
5. Frankenberg, White Women, Race Matters; Hunter and Nettles, “What about the White
Women?”; Bonilla-Silva, Racism without Racists.
 Ochoa and Pineda | Deconstructing Power, Privilege, and Silence 61

6. Ira Shor, Empowering Education: Critical Teaching for Social Change (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1992).
7. Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, trans. Myra Bergman Ramos (New York: Seabury,
1970).
8. bell hooks, Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom (New York:
Routledge, 1994), 178.
9. Edén Torres, Chicana without Apology: New Chicana Cultural Studies (New York:
Routledge, 2003).
10. hooks, Teaching to Transgress; Cherrie Moraga, Loving in the War Years (Boston: South
End, 1983); Robert Granfield, “Making It by Faking It,” in Mapping the Social Landscape,
ed. Susan J. Ferguson (Mountain View, CA: McGraw-Hill, 2005), 147 – 61.
11. Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed; hooks, Teaching to Transgress; Shor, Empowering
Education.
12. Shor, Empowering Education, 15; Daniel G. Solorzano, “Teaching and Social Change:
Reflections on a Freirean Approach in a College Classroom,” in Latinos and Education: A
Critical Reader, ed. Antonia Darder, Rodolfo D. Torres, and Henry Gutiérrez (New York:
Routledge, 1997), 351 – 61; Gilda Laura Ochoa and Enrique C. Ochoa, “Education for
Social Transformation: The Intersections of Chicana/o and Latin American Studies and
Community Struggles,” Latin American Perspectives 31 (2004): 59 – 80.
13. hooks, Teaching to Transgress; Torres, Chicana without Apology.
14. hooks, Teaching to Transgress.
15. hooks, Teaching to Transgress; American Association of University Women, Shortchanging
Girls, Shortchanging America (Washington, DC: American Association of University
Women, 1991).
16. hooks, Teaching to Transgress, 43.
17. Angela Ginorio and Michelle Huston, Sí Se Puede! Yes We Can: Latinas in School
(Washington, DC: American Association of University Women, 2001), 34; Gilda L. Ochoa,
Learning from Latino Teachers (San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2007).
18. Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed; hooks, Teaching to Transgress; Shor, Empowering
Education.
19. Hunter and Nettles, “What about the White Women?”
20. C. Wright Mills, The Sociological Imagination (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959).
21. See Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the
Politics of Empowerment (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1990).
22. Carlos Muñoz Jr., Youth, Identity, Power: The Chicano Movement (New York: Verso, 1989);
Norma Alarcón et al., eds., Chicana Critical Issues: Mujeres Activas en Letras y Cambio
Social (MALCS) (Oakland: Third Woman Press, 1993); Dolores Delgado Bernal, “Using a
Chicana Feminist Epistemology in Education Research,” Harvard Educational Review 86
(1998): 552 – 82.
23. Gilbert Gonzalez, Chicano Education in the Era of Segregation (Philadelphia: Balch
Institute Press, 1990).
24. Angela Valenzuela, Subtractive Schooling: U.S.-Mexican Youth and the Politics of Caring
(Albany: State University of New York Press); Antonia Darder, Rodolfo D. Torres, and
Henry Gutiérrez, eds., Latinos and Education: A Critical Reader (New York: Routledge,
1997); Harriett D. Romo and Toni Falbo, eds., Latino High School Graduation: Defying the
Odds (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1996); Jeannie Oakes, Keeping Track: How Schools
Structure Inequality (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1985).
62 Radical History Review

25. Lourdes Diaz Soto, Language, Culture, and Power: Bilingual Families and the Struggle for
Quality Education (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997).
26. Shor, Empowering Education.
27. Gonzalez, Chicano Education.
28. Delgado Bernal, “Using a Chicana Feminist Epistemology,” 563.
29. Collins, Black Feminist Thought.
30. See also Delgado Bernal, “Using a Chicana Feminist Epistemology.”