Alexander, Bryant K.; Anderson, Gary L.; & Gallegos,
Berndardo P. (Eds.) (2004). Performance theories in
education: Power, pedagogy, and the politics of identity.
New Jersey, USA; London, UK: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Pp. xx + 274
$29.95 (paper) ISBN 0-8058-4821-5
Reviewed by Dominique Rivière
Ontario Institute for Studies in Education
University of Toronto
September 2, 2005
In this volume, Alexander, Anderson and Gallegos call for an
acknowledgment of the performative elements of educational
research and practice. They maintain that this can be a useful,
critical, pedagogic tool, because a performative lens sheds light
on the underlying power relations which structure the politics
and processes of education. Recognizing the myriad ways in which
“performance”, “performative”, and
“performativity” are taken up in general academic
discourse, the editors argue that performance theories, as
applied to educational research and practice, can facilitate an
understanding of how teaching, learning, testing, and educational
policymaking serve as symbolic actions which maintain – and
legitimate – certain sets of (unequal) social
relationships.
The book is divided into three sections, each of which
addresses a particular performative aspect of educational
research and practice. In Part I, attention is drawn to
performance in/and pedagogy, as part of a critically reflexive
praxis. In Part II, the relationships between performance and
social identity construction are considered, particularly as
those relationships – which can maintain, resist, or
subvert the social order – are shaped by an unequal
dynamic. And, in Part III, links are made between the concept of
“performance” and the processes of educational
ritual, research and reform, which take place within larger
social, cultural, and political institutional contexts
Part I (Performance and Performativity in Pedagogical
Practice) opens with a reprint of a seminal essay on performance
and pedagogy, written by Elyse Pineau (1994). Placing this work
first was an excellent decision the part of the editors, because
Pineau’s writing firmly grounds both the purpose and the
content of the rest of the book. Pineau opens her chapter by
stating, “[t]he claim that teaching is a performance is at
once self-evident and oxymoronic” (p. 15). From there, she
engages in a thorough analysis of how notions of
“performance”, and of “performance
studies”, have been taken up by various educational
theorists and practitioners. Of particular note is how Pineau
draws upon Conquergood’s (1989) work to frame her own
arguments about the relevance of performance studies to
educational theory and practice. Pineau’s conclusion
– that the performative nature of education is less about
pedagogical style than it is about possibilities for educational
research – may have been arrived at a decade ago, but it is
as valid now as it was then, particularly because the context of
education in North America she described (namely,
“[e]ducational theorists and practitioners… are
besieged by public condemnation of current educational practices
[and] charged by political conservatives to entrench ourselves
even more deeply in a technocratic ideology…” (p.
36)) is still a reality today.
The rest of this section offers specific “case
studies” of the ways in which the concepts of performance
and of performativity have been used by the respective authors to
challenge their pedagogical practice, their students, and
themselves. In my view, Judith Hamera’s contribution,
entitled Exposing the pedagogical body: protocols and
tactics (Chapter 4), is the “standout” chapter in
this section. It is an engaging account of her work, which
focuses on making the pedagogical/student “body”
reappear in the classroom. As a highly trained ballet and modern
dancer, I found Hamera’s use of “obvious”
systems of physical training (e.g. ballet, Pilates) to initiate
her students’ awareness of their actual, corporeal bodies
as sites of learning and knowledge (as well as sites of
discipline and control) to be ingenious. For example, after
giving her students a set of questions specifically designed to
highlight the explicit ways in which Pilates produces and
maintains its “ideal corporeality”, Hamera then
offered her students a different (yet still related) set of
questions which dealt with the ways in which their university
produced and maintained its “ideal
corporeality”, with respect to the (literal and figurative)
student body. Further, Hamera encouraged her students to
consider the “protocols of mapping” (p. 75) –
which “describe how power and pleasure are organized for
the purposes of mapping (i.e. rendering intelligible/readable)
particular pedagogical bodies” (ibid.) – that occur
in the classroom. By doing so, she enabled her students to not
only recognize the naturalized, hegemonic ways their bodies are
acted upon in everyday life, but also the ways in which they are
complicit in these actions against their own, and others’,
bodies. The possibilities for rupturing cycles of hegemony that
are opened up by such an approach are myriad.
John T. Warren’s Bodily excess and the desire for
absence: Whiteness and the making of (raced) educational
subjectivities (Chapter 5) is another notable chapter in this
section. It is an intriguing narrative and analysis of his
journey towards discovering the “excessive”
performativity of Whiteness in educational spaces; particularly,
how Whiteness might be rendered visible and, therefore,
challenged. His previous work suggested that the scholarship of
“whiteness studies” located the White body either as
an identity sans a material, physical existence, or as
completely absent. Drawing from Butler (1992), Warren began to
read whiteness through a more performative lens. His key
concern, however, was “… if the whiteness was a
performative accomplishment, what was it an accomplishment
of?” (p. 84). This is the question that forms the basis
for his chapter in this book. Warren attempts to answer it by
critiquing the performativity of whiteness in his classrooms,
both on the part of his students, and of himself, as teacher.
His critique is part of a theoretical explanation of the
process of whiteness’ performativity, since he
argues that education relies on the “…maintenance of
imagined purity, [and it] effectively treats and reproduces the
cultural logic that bodies of color represent a disturbance in a
culture of power, a contaminant against the performative nature
of whiteness as a pure and perfect ideal” (p. 86).
Warren’s conclusion – that in order to see the
(re)production of race and power in the classroom they need to be
marked, made visible, through the practice of performative
pedagogy (a pedagogy in which the body takes a central position)
– is well-earned. However, the weaknesses of the middle
sections of this work (namely, an overabundance of theoretical
exposition, which serves to distance the reader from
Warren’s argument; and, a noticeable repetitiveness) make
the overall connecting points of his argument difficult to
discern.
Part II (Performance, Power, and the Politics of Identity) is
a logical follow-up to Part I, because it focuses on the myriad
ways “performances” occur in education sites. The
specific use of a performance-theory framework in this section
highlights both the constructed and context-dependent nature of
social identity. This is useful for demonstrating the different
ways performances of identity occur within the institutional
space of schooling. Further, the emphasis on the performative
nature of identity draws the reader’s attention (implicitly
or explicitly) to the intersectional nature of identity. In my
view, this is an important focus, because it reminds the reader
about the dynamic interconnectedness of people’s
lived experiences as raced, sexualized, gendered, and
classed bodies.
While Gallegos’ and Urrietta’s contributions to
this section – Performing school in the shadow of
imperialism: A hybrid (Coyote) interpretation (Chapter 6),
and “Playing the game” versus “Selling
out”: Chicanas and Chicanos relationship to Whitestream
schools (Chapter 9), respectively – were very
well-written and -argued, the two most compelling chapters, for
me, were Denise Taliaferro Baszile’s When public
performances go awry: Reading the dynamics of diversity through
power, pedagogy, and protest on campus (Chapter 7), and
Glenda Aleman’s Constructing gay performances:
Regulating gay youth in a “gay friendly” high
school (Chapter 8). The former poses some excellent
challenges to neo-liberal “performances” of diversity
and tolerance on university campuses. Baszile convincingly
argues that these “official diversity transcript[s]”
(p. 131) actually work to efface the fragility of their
“officiality”, due to the maintenance of hegemonic
ideas about difference. Using the example of a sit-in staged by
African-American and Latino students at her university as a form
of protest against the administration’s lack of sufficient
response to the racist comments made by a Political Science
professor, Baszile shows how this “breaking of
character”, as it were, by minoritized students resulted in
a very public backlash, from those in power, against their very
presence on campus. By situating this on-campus struggle for
equity and excellence within a larger socio-political context
(namely, the September 11th, 2001 attacks against the
United States), Baszile makes the useful point that
national/global issues about diversity, tolerance and acceptance
are taken up and (re)produced in local sites. In her concluding
argument, Baszile claims that such disruptions of “public
performance” should not be considered problematic, or as
“failures” of diversity. Rather, they should be used
as teachable moments in order to tease apart the social forces
with caused the disruption(s) in the first place. Given what she
has mentioned before, this argument makes complete sense.
My one, slight, concern with the chapter, however, was
Baszile’s use of anonymity as a critical tool. While I
respect her reasons for doing so (to protect the identities of
the people about whom she was writing, and to show that the
events which took place at her university could have taken place
at any North American university), I felt that this
resulted in only her impressions and opinions being shared. In a
way, therefore, her voice dominated the chapter… everyone
else was just “student”, “administrator”,
“faculty”, etc. Despite this, I urge anyone who
teaches and researches in the areas of equity in education to
share this chapter with their students, and to consider how it
connects to their own on-campus performances of diversity.
Glenda Aleman’s chapter ties in well with
Baszile’s, because it also focuses on the
“limits” of tolerance in schools; in this particular
case, the limits of tolerance for performances of gay/queer
sexual identities. From the beginning, Aleman nicely sets up
the existence heteronormativity and systemic homophobia in
schools. She makes excellent use of Butler’s (1990; 1993)
and Foucault’s (1978) theories about the (re)production of
gendered and sexualized subjectivities, both in terms of agreeing
with them, and in terms of critiquing them. I especially liked
the way Aleman inserted the body and intersectionality into
Foucault’s work. Also, Aleman makes some thoughtful
critiques of Scott’s (1990) and Goffman’s (1959)
ideas; namely, she challenges their essentialized notions of the
“self” and “body”. The most appealing
aspect of Aleman’s essay, however, is her narrative style.
It is most effective in drawing the reader into the experiences
of the people about whom she is writing. Her keen observations
of the disciplinary technologies (both overt and covert) present
in the school, and of the resultant asymmetrical power relations
between Ms. Stone (the Dean of Students who literally enforced
the tolerance level of homophobia and homosexuality in the
school) and all of her students (regardless of their
sexual orientation), accentuate well the inherent paradoxes of
neo-liberal attitudes and actions towards equity.
For me, the only (potentially) problematic area of
Aleman’s essay is in her conclusion. Referencing Halperin
(1995), Aleman argues for a queer pedagogy in schools –
“one that aims to ‘make strange’, to disrupt
epistemological and philosophical binaries and hegemonic
categories” (p. 170) – such that the heteronormative
and heterosexist agendas which underlie much anti-homophobia
discourse in schools can be exposed. “Queer then
demarcates not a positionality vis-à-vis the normative,
rather it is a positionality available to anyone who wishes to
subvert hegemony” (ibid., emphasis in original). While I
freely admit that my knowledge of queer theory is quite limited,
I was under the impression that “queer” was a
subjectivity that had been adopted as a specific
socio-political identity category by LBGTQ communities. In my
view, therefore, the comment “Queer… is a
positionality available to anyone who wishes to subvert
hegemony” (my emphasis) is a concern, because it seems to
ignore this specific context. Holland (2000) writes, “[i]f
we are to expand the definition of ‘queer’ to
encompass other bodies, then we'll need to do some hard work
here. We'll need to focus on what we really mean when we equate
the "queer" body/subject with liminal spaces” (p. 392).
Perhaps Aleman should have expanded her concluding arguments
further, to explain what she really meant when she
advocated the equation of “queer” with other
bodies.
The third and final section of this book (Policy, Ritual, and
Textual Performances) takes a different – yet not unrelated
– approach to performance theory and education. Part III
looks at the larger, institutional structures which support
certain kinds of educational performances, while condoning,
denying, and/or suppressing other kinds. As well, it considers
the implications of a performative theory on educational, social,
academic, political and/or cultural spaces.
The first two chapters in this section – Gary L.
Anderson’s Performing school reform in the age of the
political spectacle (Chapter 10), and Douglas E.
Foley’s Performance theory and critical ethnography:
Studying Chicano and Mesquaki youth (Chapter 11) – were
rather unremarkable. With respect to Anderson’s essay, I
felt that he made some good arguments in support of his claim
that the current school reform movement in the United States
(particularly the No Child Left Behind legislation) was really
part of a larger political spectacle, which served the interests
of various groups seeking political legitimacy. Such a critical
stance asked necessary questions about the nature of
“school reform”. Further, Anderson’s use of
Edelman’s work (1967; 1978; 1988), as well as of Marxist
and Foucauldian theory, provided a sufficient framework for his
ideas. I particularly liked the connections to hegemony he made
between public “performance” and public
“spectacle”.
However, there were a few things which, taken together,
weakened the overall strength of Anderson’s arguments.
First, the whole piece seemed a little disjointed at times: the
connections between the various subsections of the chapter were
not always made clear. It almost seemed as though Anderson had
taken separate, shorter essays on this subject and then pasted
them together to form this chapter. Second, I felt that Anderson
assumed too much prior knowledge, on the part of the reader,
about the trajectory of educational change in the United States.
As a Canadian, there were times when I would have liked Anderson
to have included some more contextualizing details in his
examples. Finally, I did not enjoy his constant use of
qualifying statements such as “most people
think…”, and “many believe…”. I am
of the (strongly held) opinion that such statements do not make
for a compelling argument. To me, they imply that because most
or many people believe a certain fact or claim, that claim is
automatically correct and/or valid. Further, since the
aforementioned “people” are never socially positioned
in the author’s argument(s), the reader is denied the
opportunity to question whether the peoples’
raced/ classed/ gendered/ national/ religious/ etc. subjectivities play a factor in what they
believe, and why they believe it.
Foley’s chapter is the weakest one in this section, and
in the entire volume. While it has its good moments, they were
few and far between. For example, I appreciated that Foley
addressed some of the research implications of performance theory
for critical ethnography. My appreciation, however, was tempered
by his overly-general and, therefore, insufficient treatment of
this topic. Another problem with Foley’s writing was that
his prose seemed to be rather disjointed at many instances in the
text, especially with respect to the connections between his
early experiences with folkloric performance theory, and his
later work with other kinds of performance-based theories. The
most troubling thing about this chapter, however, was the lack of
specific examples (excluding the subsection on the performative
aspects of relationship between White people and Mesquaki Indians
Tama, Iowa) from Foley’s various research endeavours. Too
often, he stated the conclusions he (and his research team) had
reached, without ever explaining why or how they got there. By
and large, there was an air of “incompleteness”
hovering over this piece, as though Foley expected the readers to
take him on his word (or, to just go and read his already
published works on the subject). It is my opinion that the
individual subsections of this chapter could stand well on their
own. Indeed, according to the list of references, they already
do. The justification for putting them together in this chapter,
however, is not at all clear, nor is how this chapter contributes
to the overall goal of this book.
The final chapter of Part III (and of this volume, proper) is
Robert Donmoyer’s Scientists as scriptwriters: A study of
educational researchers’ influence on educational decision
making (Chapter 12). This is an excellent, well thought-out and
-supported argument for the idea that research, and its
transformation into policy, shapes public educational
performances. To me, this idea is a unique and useful one,
particularly with respect to how scientific research can be used
to support hegemonic notions of what are considered to be valid,
or necessary, educational policy, research, and reform endeavours
(see: Anyon, 2005). Donmoyer firmly grounds his arguments in
both a historical perspective (e.g. addressing the ideas of E. L.
Thorndike, John Dewey, etc.), and in a contemporary context (e.g.
considering recent “rewrites” of Thorndike’s
and Dewey’s “scripts”). This, along with his
deliberate use of “common sense” language (and his
refreshing sense of humour), serve to invest the reader deeply in
his arguments work, and to make the reader quite eager to learn
whatever his conclusions might be.
My one complaint about this chapter was that the section on
issues of race, class, and gender was too short and, therefore,
seemed dismissive of the materiality of those oppressions.
Despite that, Donmoyer’s conclusion that the relationship
between educational research and educational policymaking needs
to be rethought follows neatly from his prior arguments,
especially because he situates his conclusion in the retelling of
two – rather disturbing, in my view – scenarios of
the direction in which educational research and policymaking
might be headed. Further, his concluding arguments
address the influence of asymmetrical power relations on how
academic researchers disseminate their findings, and on how those
findings get taken up in the larger socio-political sphere. In
my opinion, it is this point which provides much incentive for
educational researchers to change the way they define
“research” and frame policymaking decisions.
Performance theories in education: Power, pedagogy, and
the politics of identity is, overall, a welcome – and
much-needed – contribution to the field of educational
research, in particular, and of interdisciplinary studies, in
general. By offering scholars and practitioners an alternative
lens through which to view their research initiatives,
pedagogical practices, and personal performances, the book
creates an opportunity for a radical shift in how we
“do” education.
References
Anyon, J. (2005). What “counts” as educational
policy? Notes toward a new
paradigm. Harvard Educational Review, 75(1), 65
– 88.
Butler, J. (1990). Gender trouble: Feminism and the
subversion of identity.
New York, NY: Routledge.
Butler, J. (1993). Bodies that matter: On the
discursive limits of “sex”. New
York: Routledge.
Conquergood, D. (1989). Poetics, play, process and power:
The performative
turn in anthropology. Text and Performance Quarterly,
9(1), 82 – 88.
Edelman, M. (1967). The symbolic uses of politics.
Urbana, IL: The University
of Illinois Press.
Edelman, M. (1978). Political language: Words
that succeed and policies that fail.
New York, NY: Academic Press.
Edelman, M. (1988). Constructing the political
spectacle. Chicago, IL: The
University of Chicago Press.
Foucault, M. (1978). The history of sexuality: An
introduction. Vol.1 (R. Hurley,
Trans.). New York, NY: Vintage.
Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of self in everyday
life. New York, NY:
Doubleday.
Halperin, D. (1995). Saint Foucault: Towards a gay
hagiography. Oxford, UK:
Oxford University Press.
Holland, S. P. (2000). Bill T. Jones, Tupac Shakur and the
(queer) art of death.
Callaloo23(1), 384 – 393.
Pineau, E. L. (1994). Teaching is performance:
Reconceptualizing a
problematic metaphor. American Educational Research
Journal, 31(1),
3 – 25. Reprinted with permission.
Scott, J. C. (1990). Domination and the arts of
resistance: Hidden transcripts.
New Haven, CT, Yale University Press.
About the reviewer
Dominique Rivière is a Ph.D. student in Curriculum
at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education/University of
Toronto. She is currently writing her dissertation, which
explores how students’ performances in drama class can be
used to facilitate a different understanding of social identity
categories, in order to foster a more critical approach to
multicultural curriculum and policy initiatives
Copyright is retained by the first or sole author,
who grants right of first publication to the Education Review.