Intrinsic or Instrumental?

In philosophy classes, we often talk about the difference between "intrinsic" and "instrumental" value. If something has intrinsic value, that means it's worth something in and of itself, whereas something with instrumental value is merely helpful in attaining - serving as an "instrument" to get - other things that are valuable in and of themselves. Money and happiness provide one helpful example: happiness is by and large accepted as something that has intrinsic value. There are very few people, on the other hand, who would argue that money has any intrinsic value; we can engage in some interesting debates about the instrumental value that money may or may not have, but we generally agree that its value is purely instrumental. This week's reading from members and the Executive Director of Youth in Action (YIA) got my thinking about this philosophical distinction in the context of youth leading movements for social justice.


On the one hand, the article "A World Where Youth Hold the Power" by Adeola Oredola and YIA members made some compelling arguments about how youth leadership is intrinsically valuable for social change. "Young people are every community's best problem solvers," they argue (p 48), and to some extent I agree. I recently did the Marshmallow Challenge with my classes, where groups of four students had to build the tallest freestanding structure possible out of uncooked spaghetti, tape, and string - and then put a marshmallow on top (I can wholeheartedly recommend it as a way to build a collaborative community and establish norms for group work!). And do you know which demographic consistently outperforms CEOs at this task? Preschoolers. There's something to be said for the unbridled creative spirit of youth; I'm struck on a daily basis by the ingenuity that comes from people who haven't yet learned to censor their inspiration. "So many things are possible," concludes my mother's favorite book, "just so long as you don't know they're impossible." Or as Monay Threats McNeil (a YIA member) argues: "Students are best positioned to speak this kind of truth and change our schools" (p 53). There's wisdom to having those most affected by policies help craft the rules: Ben & Jerry's needs to ask ice cream eaters what they think just as much as public transportation officials need to consult with bus riders, and schools need to listen to kids.

Marshmallows for the win!

But at the same time, there are very real limits to what students are in a position to do. YIA acknowledged in their article that "internal issues like maturity, communication, and lack of accountability" (p 50) were holding them back. Although they were able to move past these issues with creative communication strategies (which arguable would have worked in many different settings as well), maturity is a problem that, though not unique to young people, is by definition more common there. One of the young authors of this article said that after one conversation with friends of various religious affiliations, "Now I fully understand all of their views" (p 51). I applaud the compassionate, curious spirit that this statement reveals - but I also know that it takes time and experience to learn that it's actually not possible to "fully" understand "all" of the views of any other human being, and that programs aimed at multicultural understanding should not hold that unattainable standard as their explicit aim. As the Executive Director of YIA expresses, students need to learn to "speak for themselves (with support)" (p 54, emphasis mine). I've taken kids to school administrators, board meetings, and even Washington, DC to advocate for change. I've founded student-led courses on Human Rights and How to Change the World, and been transformed by the leadership of students within those contexts. (I've also come to teaching through a program that receives its share of criticism for taking young people and giving them more responsibility than they're ready for.) But I also know that doing this kind of work with students does take a tremendous amount of planning, effort, and intentional design. As Ms. Oredola describes, students' voices are powerful - with support. I'm wary of us intellectually fetishizing youth leadership and thinking that if we just let kids speak, they'll have all the answers.

I think that the most significant value of youth leadership in these kinds of movements is instrumental. "The young people best positioned to give their voice and power to help fix what's broken in these cities," writes Oredola, "usually move on to 'better' places and opportunities as quickly as possible" (p 48). Communities need them. It's not so much that youth from marginalized communities are going to, right now, transform every aspect of society (in fact, the National Student Bill of Rights mentioned in our article is, in its current draft form, so incredibly wide-ranging and aspirational that no educational organization could reasonably be expected to commit to its demands while any of its student authors are still actually "youth"). Rather, the power of youth leadership lies in the fact that down the line, personalities forged in the inspirational flames of youth leadership who go on to access positions of greater influence and power will bring with them a profound commitment to and understanding of the strengths and needs of our most vulnerable communities. Youth leadership teaches our students that they can give voice to things they're "not supposed to be capable of saying or doing" (p 49), help them grow in their "public speaking skills and confidence" (p 52), and "learn about the history of social movements and build pride" (p 54) so they're set down a path for social change that goes to the root. I'm still wary of lines of thought that suggest if we give kids the keys, then all will be well - that message might only serve to set them up for failure - but if we could have a generation of kids growing up with the kinds of opportunities that YIA builds, and if I can achieve some of my goals working with kids to find their voices this year, then I can't even imagine the incredible things we'll be seeing in the decades to come.

2 comments:

  1. I have done the Marshmallow Challenge with my students before as well, and every time that I do it as a team building I think about the fact that pre-schoolers are the group that can do this challenge the best. I also think about what makes them be able to complete the challenge better.

    "but if we could have a generation of kids growing up with the kinds of opportunities that YIA builds, and if I can achieve some of my goals working with kids to find their voices this year, then I can't even imagine the incredible things we'll be seeing in the decades to come." I love how you mentioned programs and opportunities like YIA can help us see amazing things in the years to come, but I think it is important how you mentioned yourself. As educators, I find it very important to make sure that we work towards kids finding their voice within the classroom and school.

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  2. The Marshmallow Challenge has just made my docket of STEM activities to bring into the classroom! Thank you for sharing!

    Also, thank you for your interesting insight into the long-term successes that programs like YIA prepare youth for. It's always disheartening to not have that instant gratification when trying to shape young minds to enable them to succeed and improve their communities. It helps to know that "down the line, personalities forged in the inspirational flames of youth leadership who go on to access positions of greater influence and power will bring with them a profound commitment to and understanding of the strengths and needs of our most vulnerable communities."

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