November 1st

Considering the election was just around the corner, it felt only fitting to help my class learn about how exactly America had come to the system of democracy and where it came from. Where does the word democracy come from? What does it mean? What can we learn about the people who started the system? 

When it came time to breach the topic of who could and could not vote, I was hesitant. I didn’t know quite how to explain that women and slaves were entirely unrepresented in government during this time. If I didn’t mention it, then I would be contributing to the false-perfection narratives that still permeate through discussions of the classical world. If I did mention it, then I was leaving it up to the students whether they would be able to handle a discussion about gender and class. 

I decided to trust them. If it failed, it was a learning experience. Or, that’s what I had been telling myself. 

“But just because people could vote and tyrants were gone,” I started, “that doesn’t mean everyone got that opportunity.”

They chattered to each other a bit, reacting with a bit of a gasp. I decided to take it one step further. “It’s a lot like how here in the United States, women couldn’t vote until 100 years ago!”

“What?!” They protested. And when I mentioned that slaves in the United States weren’t able to vote, and then even after that continued to struggle to see representation, even to today, they were absolutely aghast. 

“But my mom is the smartest person I know!” One piped up. 

“But she wouldn’t have gotten a vote in Athens 2,500 years ago. She wouldn’t get to speak in councils or serve on the jury either.” I replied.

“That’s not fair!” One of the five girls in the class pouted her lip a bit when she said it. “I do better than the boys in here anyways!”

I had to laugh a bit, but was sure to stifle it so they understood the seriousness of the topic. This was the challenge: now they understood the ancient world is fascinating, that other cultures have deep and complicated cultures and histories. But could they critique old practices? Could they recognize change? Could they see that the ancient weren’t perfect, just as we weren’t?

“So they had three branches of government like us, where citizens could be members of their own government-”

“But not everyone was a citizen even though they were doing the work!” There was an immediate objection.

“Yeah because all the rich people made the slaves work for them and then they could just go make the rules all day.” Another agreed quickly after. 

“So, you wouldn’t want to live in that time? Even if they made super cool stuff?”

“No way!” A few of the girls piped up in particular. 

“Good.” A nodded. This sort of sympathy about disparity, recognition of the flaws of the past, was what I was hoping for. 

This sort of true lesson about injustice is just a small piece of a wider global puzzle, of course. But, it started a chain of dominos for them. Surprised at their empathy, I realized that they were primed and ready to question existing structures, even if they would have benefitted from them. In a class of 15 young boys to 5 girls, I was worried that they’d “play Athens” on the playground, trouncing over the girls and using the basis of the past to justify their actions in the present. Instead, it was unanimous in the call for action and change. 

And, while the election that came the following week made me even more nervous for the state of schooling, for what they’d have access to learning, and if this lesson would be allowed at all anymore, I had faith in twenty young people to be empathetic about the rights, responsibilities, and freedoms of their peers.