Enabling identity as an ethical tension in a community of philosophical inquiry with children and young adults

Abstract

This article focuses on an ethical tension in a community of philosophical inquiry with children and young adults; the resolution that the author suggests is called “enabling identity.” The “enabling identity” model seeks to endow a voice to children and adolescents from marginalized groups by challenging the mainstream hegemonic discourse that governs the discourse where communities of philosophical inquiry operate. One of the challenges that philosophy for children faces today is enabling the voices of marginalized groups represented within communities of philosophical inquiry comprising children or adults to be heard. The participants in communities of philosophical inquiry who come from non-privileged backgrounds and low socio-economic sectors or national minorities, whose narrative does not accord with that of the dominant national narrative, feel uncomfortable expressing their feelings and experiences, preferring not to raise the questions that interest them. Even if they are amicable, such communities of inquiry are governed—even if implicitly—by the hegemonic metanarrative. This article analyzes this ethical tension and suggests a three-phase theoretical and practical model which depicts this enabling while relying on narrative theory as well as the philosophical and dialogical work of Emmanuel Levinas and Martin Buber. The last part also offers insights from research in German and Israeli communities of inquiry with children and young adults that have used this model.

Philosophy with children and young adults

As a way of life and educational method, philosophy with children and young adults differs from the philosophy taught in schools and academia (Murris, 2000, 2001). While the teaching of philosophy is becoming increasingly common in schools (especially high schools), within the history of philosophy and philosophical thought, philosophy with (and for) students regards itself as a model for cultivating human beings who ask existential questions about themselves, their world, and their surroundings from an early age. In contrast to the academic study of philosophy—in which students are merely passive observers of philosophical ideas—philosophy with children seeks to create a place and space for active engagement in philosophical thought that promotes broad critical thinking skills in its young practitioners. Rather than focusing on an acquaintance with philosophy as a field of knowledge to be mastered (Mohr Lone, 2012b), it revolves around questions relating to the pupils’ existence in the world—including those relating to adolescents in cyberspace (Kizel, 2014). It thus develops their philosophical sensitivity (Kizel, 2015; Mohr Lone, 2012a), presenting questions to them as a living, breathing, vigorous space that fosters creativity, caring, and concern (Wartenberg, 2009).

As Lipman et al. (1980: 29) observe, the philosophy-with-children approach is based on the idea that students ask questions that can be extraordinarily sweeping in scope and grandeur: “What happens to people when they die?” or “Am I really ‘me’ on the Internet?”—that is, “issues of enormous metaphysical importance.”

Communities of philosophical inquiry provide a framework within which students can think and talk about problematic issues with support from adults and their peers (Lyle and Thomas-Williams, 2011). Haynes and Murris (2012: 4) maintain that “[t]he Community of Inquiry pedagogy is not about a return to child-centredness: neither teacher nor pupil is at the centre. The search for better understanding and justified beliefs through collaborative reasoning and dialogue are at the centre.” Splitter and Sharp (1995: 17–18) make a slightly different argument, contending that “[a] community of inquiry is at once immanent and transcendent: it provides a framework which pervades the everyday life of its participants and it serves as an ideal to strive for.” Matthews (1994) notes that parents and teachers are often so overwhelmed by the burden of nurturing, instructing, reassuring, and inspiring learners that they fail to appreciate the new philosophical perspective which young learners can offer.

Matthew Lipman—for many years the director of the Institute for the Advancement of Philosophy for Children at Montclair College, New Jersey—posits that children begin to develop philosophically when they start to ask “why” (see Lipman et al., 1980). Building on Peirce’s ideas regarding the scientific community of inquiry, Lipman (1991: 20) proposes the concept of a community of philosophical inquiry:

We can now speak of “converting the classroom into a community of inquiry” in which students listen to one another with respect, build on one another’s ideas, challenge one another to supply reasons for otherwise unsupported opinions, assist each other in drawing inferences from what has been said, and seek to identify one another’s assumptions. (Lipman, 1991: 20)

Being a meta-approach and field practice, philosophy with children exists both within and outside educational institutions, thus not being confined to a specific time or place, such as a school (Kohan, 2014). The framework, adopted in middle as well as high schools worldwide, has been extensively empirically documented, see students sit in a circle and read or watch a text (clip, drawing, etc.) that prompts them to ask questions (Kennedy, 2010). Deciding in a democratic fashion which of the questions they will discuss, they listen to one another, creatively develop their thoughts, and gain experience of a space marked by empathy and trust (Haynes and Murris, 2013). In this way, Lipman (1991) argues, classes may be transformed into communities of inquiry whose members listen respectfully to one another, construct ideas together, challenge one another, and, above all, look for and discover their fundamental values and tenets. A philosophy-with-learners community of inquiry encourages learners to develop a philosophical sensitivity that entails awareness of abstract questions related to human existence; it thereby allows insight into significant philosophical aspects of various situations and their analysis.

An ethical tension in a community of philosophical inquiry

One of the challenges philosophy for children faces is enabling the voices of silenced or marginalized groups represented within communities of philosophical inquiry comprising children to be heard. As Mohr Lone and Burroughs (2016: 209) argue: “This demands an appreciation for children’s philosophical insights and unique perspectives, involving pedagogical and interpersonal strategies that manifest a commitment to making space for all children’s voices.”

The participants in communities of philosophical inquiry who do not come from hegemonic groups are subject to two forms of oppression: (1) external—dictated by the hegemonic discourse represented in the philosophical community of inquiry by children and teachers from hegemonic homes— and (2) internal—imprinted on children, who are made aware of the “right order” by the operation of power relations.

As Foucault (1980: 133) notes, the regime of knowledge that represents the “proper” order conceals a power play: “It’s not a matter of emancipating truth from every system of power … but of detaching the power of truth from the forms of hegemony, social, economic and cultural, within which it operates at the present time.”

In every encounter—even between children and children—silenced voices are thus present in the room, circle, or community, and their owners feel incapable of making themselves heard in a way they can call their own. As Ndofirepi and Cross observe:

Silenced children cannot confront violence and abuse that may be committed against them. The capacity to learn is constrained in the absence of opportunities to probe, question and deliberate. In situations where adult decision-makers do not listen to children, the former will fail to notice the presence and character of the barriers affecting the lives of the latter. (Ndofirepi and Cross, 2015: 235)

At times, these participants cannot ask questions and state their positions freely because they are silenced by the hegemonic voice. Although the latter is not always explicit, its presence is always felt (Kizel, 2013). The participants in communities of philosophical inquiry who come from weak socio-economic sectors or national minorities, whose narrative does not accord with that of the dominant national narrative, feel uncomfortable expressing their feelings and experiences, preferring not to raise the questions that interest them. Even if they are amicable, such communities of inquiry are governed—even if implicitly—by the hegemonic metanarrative.

I suggest that situations in which children cannot express their identity and narrative form what Murris (2013: 245) calls cases of “structural epistemic injustice,” in which essentializing and normalizing discourses about children and hearing their unique voice are resisted. Children consequently require opportunities to actively engage in democratic decision-making processes—first, within the school, and then within their local communities—before they can learn to abide by subsequent decisions in society as they grow up (Lansdown, 2001). In this context, the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child stipulates that children have the right to express their views and should be taken seriously in accord with their age and maturity. This global convention asserts the obligation to ensure that competent children receive a voice as citizens (MacNaughton et al., 2003).

Although communities of inquiry aspire to be friendly and safe places (Lipman et al., 1980), some of their members may nonetheless feel trapped within an oppressive, repressive discourse and, on occasion, even in a conceptual prison that they do not always understand or that does not correspond with their experiences. The latter is powered by the mechanism known as “normalizing education,” which consists of a matrix of practices and theories devoted to establishing, shaping, and policing the human subject in order to create a desired type of human being. According to Gur-Ze’ev (2010), this education creates the conditions that determine what a person can and cannot do within and in the face of the world. In other words, “it produces the human subject as some-thing and prevents her from becoming some-one, a true subject” (Gur-Ze’ev, 2002: 66).

Kohan (1995) and Rainville (2000) both argue that it is not neutral to ignore the foundations of systematic discrimination and the way in which institutions have arisen out of, and continue to perpetuate, the repression of minoritized groups. Children from marginalized groups recognize relatively quickly the people surrounding them and the hegemonic voice/narrative, thus muting their inner voice (i.e. the background from which they came) due to the feeling that it is illegitimate or perhaps even forbidden, and asking inauthentic questions in order not to betray their “otherness.”

Overcoming the ethical tension: liberating space in communities of inquiry

In order to overcome the ethical tension that exists within a community of philosophical inquiry, I suggest a model called “enabling identity,” which seeks to endow a voice to children and adolescents from marginalized groups by challenging the mainstream hegemonic discourse that governs the discourse where communities of philosophical inquiry operate.

In the “enabling identity” model that I have offered during the last years to researchers and practitioners around the world, I argue that communities of philosophical inquiry which allow the expression of multiple identities without fear can offer three constructs: (1) multiple perspectives; (2) a diversity of identities; and (3) legitimization. These communities of philosophical inquiry must therefore constitute a liberating space that recognizes two ethical principles which I believe to be significant for teachers and practitioners in such communities: ethical recognition of Levinas’s Other and ethical recognition of Buber’s Thou.

Under optimal circumstances, these two ethical principles can allow a number of narratives to coexist without seeking to dominate others, allowing an expansion of the discussion of the existence of diverse narratives and their legitimization as the unique identities of the young participants of philosophical communities of inquiry.

Levinas’s ethical concept of the Other and Otherness is of use in this context. Recognition of the Other/Otherness is a prerequisite for a philosophical community of inquiry that seeks to be safe, protective, enabling, and open to diverse identities. According to Levinas, Otherness entails the understanding that the human unity in whose name modernity speaks has sought to blur Otherness—including, I would posit, the personal identity that we wish to be present within philosophical communities of inquiry.

In this sense, philosophical communities of inquiry must go beyond ontology, serving as a safe place for taking responsibility towards others, in particular those from weaker and marginal populations. As Levinas (1998) observes: “To understand being is to exist. To think is no longer to contemplate but to be engaged, merged with what we think, launched—the dramatic event of being-in-the-world” (11). According to Levinas: “We are responsible beyond our intentions. It is impossible for the attention directing the act to avoid inadvertent action” (3).

Levinas (1998) states that the Other is not first an object of understanding and then a person who takes part in a dialogue or conversation; the two relations are, in fact, intertwined. Addressing the other is, rather, inseparable from understanding them. To understand a person is already to speak to them. To posit the existence of the other by letting them be is already to have accepted their existence (Katz, 2013).

Enabling identity should encourage the responsibility that Levinas propounds, which shuns violence. As he points out, the latter occurs when understanding serves to engender a sense of control over the other or their negation. He thus provides us with an excellent tool—or warning—for engagement: an encounter is an encounter and must not be exploited as a way of manipulating or controlling the other. To be in relation with another face-to-face precludes killing. As Levinas (1996: 9) notes: “This is also the situation of discourse.”

The responsibility that Levinas proposes is one we cannot evade. It is exemplified in the work of the moderator of philosophical communities of inquiry, who should demonstrate sensitivity on entry into a multi-narratival community. Levinas is seeking to override ethics as “good” and “right” behavior or action. Describing the obligation towards the Other as infinite and ongoing, his “first philosophy” can enrich communities of philosophical inquiry.

In a slightly different fashion, Buber (1957) suggests that the discovery of the Other can be compared to being open to listening to what one hears, grasping it, and directly opening the window to enjoy the view. Discussing the nature of the all-important human encounter, Buber focuses on the dialogical dimension within concrete situations, calling for the presence of the whole being. As Buber (1959: 11) states: “All real living is meeting.”

The essence of Buber’s thought resides in his dialogical-based perception that human essence is relational. Rather than perception or understanding, the core of human existence lies in “being-in-relation to” (Beziehung) and the “encounter” (Begegnung). Buber calls for the implementation of a form of dialogism that requires entry from a person’s inner knowledge, thus assigning a secondary place to external perception. The dialogical method bridges the chasm between experience and consciousness, joining the facilitation of experience to ex post facto knowledge of it. Through human attachment, dialogical thought establishes a bridge with reality and thereby an encounter with the Other (Buber, 1962). According to Buber, only reflective introspection—not empirical impression—is capable of perceiving human essence. Consciousness is thus not gained via passing a concrete entity but rather by the deep penetration of the essence of a concrete entity that reveals its inner essence (Buber, 1962: 97).

Buber assumes that, in order for human existence to be full, a person must not only enter into the dialogical situation, but must also know and value the fact of doing so. In Buber’s (1959: 58–61) words: “Benevolence touches us when we approach it, are open to, and perhaps expect it. But benevolence cannot be a concern … it comes without searching, as in ‘don’t touch—and it appears.’”

A philosophical community of inquiry can become a liberating space if and when it bases itself on the principles of the Other/Thou. In other words, on the one hand (based on Levinas), the Otherness of those around one must be acknowledged rather than felt as a threat; it must be perceived as a human treasure that, in the framework of the process of “enabling identity” in the philosophical community of inquiry, allows the members to take responsibility by giving room to the voice of the Other’s identity and narrative. On the other hand (based on Buber), dialogue must be promoted as the height of interrelationships within a space characterized by mutuality rather than power.

Both of these concepts require sensitivity and entry into a situation. In other words, the group’s moderator must engage in a dialogue with its members and be sensitive to and aware of the fact that they come from diverse backgrounds. Above all, the moderator must be sensitive to and aware of the fact that, in any given situation, the questions asked by the majority will be governed by the hegemonic metanarrative. Therefore, the moderator should give space to questions asked by participants from other backgrounds in order to prevent exclusion and marginality.

These sectors are subject to a mechanism that ordains the socially valuable as legitimate knowledge (Apple, 1999). These communities lie at the center of the struggle fought by the politics of recognition with respect to race/ethnicity, class, gender, sexuality, ability, religion, and other important dynamics of power. They also constitute spaces for political and educational action.

A three-phase model of enabling identity

In order to enable the expansion of the community of inquiry from a narrow subjugating space that only includes the dominant hegemonic metanarrative, I suggest a three-phase theoretical and practical pedagogical model that also makes use of narrative theory. This model seeks to establish a framework for educational work, being intended primarily for teachers and moderators responsible for guiding the participants of communities of philosophical inquiry towards understanding that such communities can serve not only as safe places in which questions can be asked without fear, but also as spaces in which participants from marginalized groups can make their voices and narratives heard without any negative consequences.

Moderators should be guided by the principle of encouraging the full expression of all the groups represented within a community. In order to prevent repression, suppression, and oppression, a cultural sensitivity must be developed towards the voices of learners who come from non-privileged backgrounds and low socio-economic sectors. These tools form the basic elements that ensure inclusion and foster attentiveness to the questions that are not commensurate with the hegemonic discourse.

The first stage of the model

During the first stage, the repressed voice of the participants challenges the hegemonic mainstream discourse. The community of inquiry must acquire and employ dialogic tools which enable practices that promote the right to be heard, courage, and equality. It should be clear at the outset that the community is not bound by one rule or narrative; rather, its discourse includes multiple narratives. It is recommended that group discussions commence with introductory statements such as:

The community does not give any preference to anyone over anyone else.

As in society at large, the community includes people from different backgrounds. We don’t judge here, but let everyone ask whatever question he or she likes.

In order to conduct an open discussion, we must let everyone, regardless of his or her background, origin, gender, or cultural or other preferences, an equal opportunity to participate.

Following such statements, it is recommended that the moderator lay out different colored circles on the floor or a board, explaining that:

Each of the members of this community is a circle. Each circle/person has the right to ask questions regarding the things that interest him or her so that we can discuss them in various ways, primarily via questions. The beauty of this space lies in the multiplicity of colors. Our community is variegated and diverse.

These statements are meant to ensure that the participants understand that difference poses a challenge rather than a threat to the group. The moderator should explain that they can ask questions “through their own lenses” and that “the color of your circle represents your right to express yourself.” The moderator might add: “There aren’t any right questions here. Every question is right. Every question should be asked because you feel free to ask it. You can ask whatever question you like, and no one will judge you for asking anything.” As Mohr Lone and Burroughs note, ensuring that

every child’s approach to philosophical thinking is valued requires a clear awareness of the dangers of setting up any “voice of authority” that can shut down a student’s ability to be heard and/or inhibit a student’s willingness to express honestly his or her point of view. (Mohr Lone and Burroughs, 2016: 210)

During the first stage, the moderator must be aware of the fact that certain members of the group are more dominant than others, finding it easier to enter the discourse (as also society at large) freely and openly. The moderator must therefore take pains to preserve a balance and ensure a spirit of legitimacy towards Otherness via bodily gestures and speech that accept and validate the members of the community who come from marginalized groups.

The second stage of the model

The second stage is marked by a process in which silenced voices seek to dissolve the boundaries of the hegemonic discourse, challenging its centrality and ostensibly unshakeable legitimacy. During this phase, the community of inquiry should seek to acquire and employ dialogical tools to help members cope with the loss of hegemonic control—the right to be included, the ability to contain, and, to a certain extent, the ability to concede.

In a long-term community of inquiry—of several months or a year—group processes occur that may be defined as “on the way to equality.” The marginalized members of the community feel that the moderator gives them space and a place, leading them to feel safer and more secure. The privileged members are likely to feel that their status is being undermined, prompting them to react to what they perceive to be a loss of control and hegemony. In this stage, the moderator must go over the rules which regulate that no one identity has precedence or priority over another, stressing that “our community seeks presence and a safe place for all identities.” In some cases, talking about personal identity is recommended as enabling expression and security, and helping to relinquish the idea that personal identity necessarily impinges on the Other’s identity. Use of such language as a “spectrum of colors” or adducing visual examples (e.g. a field of multicolored flowers) can contribute to a symbolic understanding of the situation.

At this stage, the moderator may feel that some of the participants are afraid to ask questions, primarily because they do not accord with the metanarrative or hegemonic narrative. The moderator should then make sure that the members who come from weaker social sectors are given the opportunity to ask questions by making some sort of physical gesture—a smile or a nod. Or the moderator might say: “That’s a really interesting question.” While over-attention may cause shyness or embarrassment, the moderator’s sensitivity can help dissolve the boundaries between the metanarrative and other narratives.

During the second stage, the group experiences a dissolution of the boundaries of narratives and identities as part of the self-searching in which its members engage. In effect, this is a hybrid stage during which identities can become “fluid,” intermingling with one another and creating new challenges for the group members—both with respect to the questions they ask themselves about their personal, family, and communal history and those they ask about their co-members.

The third stage of the model

If or when the process described above progresses smoothly, an opportunity is created for the third stage to occur. Here, the two narratives—the hegemonic and the repressed—coexist in dialogue and an atmosphere of cooperation, empathy, mutuality, and legitimacy; they are not just symbolic but also essential. This stage—like the others—thus requires a democratic atmosphere and an understanding of the concept of social compromise, within which the otherness of groups and individuals is recognized.

This stage of the model requires that the moderator be capable of guiding the group and encouraging it to understand that compromise is not surrender but recognition of Otherness and engaging in the reflection necessary to arrive at this phase. These processes demand encountering the Other, whom members may view stereotypically or against whom they may harbor prejudices or discriminate, for example. The students’ learning includes dealing with the Other within their social space and rejecting the ranking of students that may be a normal part of the classroom. In a long process, this encounter will help the group’s members to establish a dialogue and a world view, and change their misperceptions. In the words of Wexler:

Dialogue is not neutral. It points to the need to elucidate controversial issues, not necessarily with the goal of achieving a consensus but in order to clarify various views and protect the minority. In this sense, it is always political and confrontational and does not seek to arrive at a consensus. (Wexler, 2015: 37)

The model in action

During the past few years, I have conducted several studies regarding the use of this model in a number of countries around the world (Kizel, 2016a, 2016b). In this section, I wish to elaborate on a comparative study conducted in 2018 in Germany and Israel. The participants in the study were two groups of 5th-grade students, with 15 students (girls and boys) in each group. In Germany, the group comprised a majority of children who were born in Germany and a minority of children whose parents were Turkish immigrants. In Israel, the group contained a majority of Jewish children and a minority of Arab-Palestinian children who were Israeli citizens. The children in each group met several times a year as part of a community of philosophical inquiry to discuss texts related to various issues such as justice, beauty, and truth.

At the conclusion of the study, the children in each group were asked questions about the group dynamics and the role of the facilitator. Furthermore, the facilitators of both groups, who underwent training on issues pertaining to the model and sociocultural sensitivity, were asked to voice their opinions on the group dynamics.

The children in the majority group pointed out their discomfort with the group dynamics, particularly when they heard the questions asked by children who were part of the minority, which did not concern their culture. “I felt that my culture was slightly pushed aside, and it made me really nervous. I did not understand why their culture, which is not the culture of our country, is given a place,” commented a German girl. She added “At the end of the process I felt I was making more room for the other culture and that it does not threaten me.”

A similar feeling was expressed by a Jewish Israeli girl:

When the Arab participants were deliberating and inserted examples from their culture, I felt it was not my place. It took me time, mainly thanks to the facilitator’s guidance, who helped me understand it is not at my expense but is perfectly fine that everyone makes his culture present. It was not immediate, but over time.

One of the practitioners emphasized that his statement “Everyone here has a place and we should give space to each one of us” undermined the metanarrative of the majority and legitimized the presence of other narratives within the group. At that stage, the members of the majority group were shaken by feelings of the place not being exclusively theirs: “I had a feeling of uncertainty about this place,” said a German boy. “I asked myself: ‘Is it right for me to participate in a place where not only my culture exists?’ It was not easy at all. It was, actually, difficult.” The German practitioner added:

Participants pertaining to the German majority approached me and said they were feeling insecure since we are giving a very prominent place to other cultures. I told them there is no prominent place for anyone but room for everyone. They felt uncomfortable and went home feeling troubled. I felt that, as time passed, these feelings improved. They even approached me and said they thought about what I said and are now more comfortable.

Similar feelings were expressed by the Israeli practitioner:

Jewish Israelis were very much bothered about the place given to the Arab-Palestine culture and asked me why I do this, and whether I am intentionally doing it to spite them. I sat with them and we had long conversations in which I explained that my intention is not aimed at any side, but that each side brings to the community, in a democratic and collaborative manner, its “self.” The “self” means that I bring my culture, my identity, and that they should not feel threatened. It is not at anyone’s expense but equally gives room to everyone. At the end of the process, the Jewish students felt better; they even said that they felt there was an environment which was fairer to everyone.

This study, like others, connects narrative theory and allows for a broad understanding of how narratives carry with them human and personal dimensions, even human memory, both personal and collective.

During communities of inquiry, narratives can create a methodological framework enabling people to discover their perceptions about themselves and about those surrounding them in various circles of life. It also allows for the restoring and exposing of milestones which have been manipulated by individuals and groups alike to serve their political agenda. The narratological framework is not aimed at discovering the objective “truth,” but rather tries to decipher and expose the processes of selection and interpretation that a narrator or narrators apply to reality in order to create a story.

The current study has shown again that a narrative is also considered as an event within social dialogue. Therefore, it is not only influenced by personal psychological structures, but also by social constructs such as interpersonal interactions in a community of philosophical inquiry. It is not an exclusive creation belonging to the person narrating it, but, in this case, it becomes a joint creation (as presented in the third stage of the model), in which the listener’s role in shaping the narrative can be overt or covert. Even when the listener wishes to minimize their direct influence on the narrator, the mere situation of being face-to-face with another person creates an intersubjective process (Corradi, 1991). The structuring of the narrative allows people—mainly members of a group—to identify themselves within the complex to develop emotions such as empathy, anger, mistrust, suspicion, and deprivation. The narratological plot contains an explanation which, in many cases, is a basic human need that enables us to empower our identity and identification (Connelly and Clandinin, 1990).

According to Covarero (2000: 34–35), the other we meet is, therefore, a narratable self, even if we do not know their story: “pretty separately from any consideration of the text. It is of no significance whether the text is written or oral, does it originate from a legend or from gossip, from direct knowledge or from our imagination.”

Conclusion

This article proposes a three-stage model in the framework of which the moderators of philosophical communities of inquiry can guide the participants in such a way as to allow the voices of the weak and marginalized members to be heard. It revolves around two principles: Levinas’s recognition of the importance of the Other/Otherness and our responsibility for the Other and Buber’s concept of mutual human relations forming the basis of interpersonal and intergroup dialogue. These two conceptual frameworks can help us acknowledge and contain other narratives—especially those of silenced and excluded voices—via a model that seeks to blur the boundaries of the exclusive ruling metanarrative, thereby consolidating and affirming the identity of those who hold them.

Based on these two concepts, I have presented a three-stage “enabling identity” model as the foundation for a long-term philosophical community of inquiry designed to give space and attention to the voices of silenced students from minority backgrounds. A philosophical community of inquiry that employs the tools offered by multi-narratival discourse can enable children and young adults to better understand themselves on two identity levels: understanding their own selves and their surroundings and history, and realizing that others’ identity should not threaten them.