“Reflections on Parenting and Revolutionary Struggle” is a space for parent-organizers to share their experiences and struggles with parenting. How do we parent in a way that reflects our revolutionary ideals? How can we impart the commitment to liberation struggles to our kids and give them (and ourselves) the tools to cope with the capitalist, anti-Black, and imperialist society in which we live? The feature will also include interviews with people who do not have biological or formally adopted children of their own but who serve as some of the primary caretakers, mentors, and spiritual guides for kids in their communities.
Roberto Sirvent: What does it mean to be a parent engaged in revolutionary struggle? How did becoming a parent change your political perspective? What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Jalessah T. Jackson: Rooted in revolutionary love, parenting for liberation is an embodied practice in which, to paraphrase June Jordan, I aim to love and nurture my children into their own freedom. As a practice it is multi-fold, but perhaps most importantly, defined by my commitment to revolutionary criticism and self-criticism, self-reflection, and accountability to my children as well as my inner child. For me, it begins with reflecting on my own childhood to explore what I appreciated about how I was parented and identifying which aspects positively contributed to my development. It was through the process of reflection that I was able to identify the practices and approaches I wanted to adopt and replicate in parenting and caregiving for the children in my life, as well as what I wanted to leave behind. In my opinion, starting here was critical, because without taking time to reflect, we risk unintentionally parenting according to the already existing social norms and scripts. It is from the place of reflection that I have been able to distinguish my own parenting values and objectives of creating an environment where my children can develop a strong sense of self, critical thinking skills, and the capacity to questions and challenge injustices from traditional parenting models rooted in colonial legacies which perpetuate dominance, coercion, and control.
Though I was politically disillusioned before I became a mother in 2012, my politics took a revolutionary turn after having my daughter. I was a young, new mom navigating poverty and single parenthood after surviving medical racism during pregnancy and childbirth in a state that ranks amongst the worst in the U.S. in maternal health outcomes. My early experiences illuminated the coercive contraception counseling practices of Ob/Gyns that we often hear about. It was through navigating programs like WIC, trying but failing to secure subsidized child care so that I could finish college for example, that I became intimately aware of the many barriers in place to prevent working-class parents from accessing social support and services necessary for caring for their children/families. My material conditions politicized me and moved me toward anti-capitalist, anti-patriarchal, and anti-imperialist politics early on. It informed what I chose to study, and eventually my work with/in the community as a reproductive justice practitioner and cultural worker today.
What have you learned from your kids (or kids in general) about liberation? Is there a story about your kids you want to share?
Through being as present as I can be and observing them without judgment and being quick to “correct” them, my children teach me so much through modeling. It is adultism that teaches us that children learn from us and not the other way around. Children are often great at modeling qualities like empathy and compassion for others. Observing their interactions with each other as well as their responses to different situations can remind adults of the importance of understanding and sharing the feelings of others, which is foundational for healthy communication. I also find that kids in general demonstrate a level of curiosity and open-mindedness that I wish was more common in my interaction with adults. My toddler, for example, is innately curious about the world around them. Before socialization takes a stronghold, younger children in particular often lack preconceived biases which can allow them to explore new ideas, concepts, and perspectives freely. I’ve found that when we take the time to explain things such as non-traditional familial configurations, for example, children tend to get it. They understand feelings like love, they understand care
Some of my favorite qualities about my own children include their understanding of fairness and their practices of honesty and authenticity. My kids are quick to recognize and react to injustices, big and small, and they are incredibly straightforward and honest about their feelings and observations. Their authenticity can remind the adults in their life of the value of transparency and honesty. I draw inspiration from these qualities and think it can encourage adults to question their own assumptions and to remain curious, committed to truth-telling, and open to ongoing learning.
How do you navigate the various tensions and learning obstacles that arise when your child’s school is primarily committed to teaching compliance, conformity, and subservience to the state?
Growing up, my mother supplemented what me and my siblings were learning in school by assigning additional readings and projects focused on important history that she knew would be either misrepresented or worse, completely excluded from our school curriculum. I credit that practice as the foundation for what would eventually evolve into my own educational interests, but also a practice that I would pull from as my firstborn entered public school. She was in kindergarten and was learning the state’s narrative about Christopher Columbus, and so at 5 years old I introduced and explained what colonization was. We talked about the Indigenous people who were here before Columbus. We also talked about the importance of knowing the truth, about why it was hidden, and about who benefits from these lies. I felt it important to be in the know about what she was learning so that I was prepared to provide a counter-narrative. I often visited my child at school, and was in regular communications with their educators and administrators, addressing any and every issue that came up. I feel that this communicated to their educators that my children and the children under my care, had adults in their lives who were ready and willing to show up for and advocate for them.
When schools transitioned to virtual learning in response to COVID-19 in 2020, I got to really be in the classroom with her. I began thinking about how she might benefit from having more of a say in what and how she was taught, how she might benefit from project-based/experiential learning, and if she felt that what she was learning was actually relevant to her/life. Prompted mostly by the lack of a plan around mitigating this deadly virus in schools, and by my growing concerns after teachers and administrators had called the police to the school on different occasions, I decided to homeschool. Home schooling is not only a lot of work, it simply cannot work for parents who work outside of the home, and for parents who rely on school breakfast and lunch to ensure their children eat every day. It feels important to name these material realities alongside the solution I arrived at for my family. Organizing homeschooling cooperatives and collectives, where parents share teaching responsibilities can provide a more collaborative approach to education is one approach that would allow for customized learning experiences tailored to the children’s and family’s needs and interests, and would also allow for more families to opt out of schooling.
What does a revolutionary political education look like for – and with – children?
A revolutionary political education prioritizes critical pedagogy which encourages us and them to question and challenge dominant ideologies and hegemonic power structures. It involves teaching children to think critically about their world, uncover hidden and indigenous/subjugated knowledges, and to recognize oppression when and where they see it. Taking an intentional departure from traditional models of imparting knowledge, a revolutionary political education would necessarily involve children in decision-making processes about their learning environment and community. Cultivating collaboration and cooperative learning would be prioritized to assist in the development of skills in communication, comradeship, and mutual support. These political education programs would also operate as democratic communities where children’s voices are valued, and with adults, they participate in creating rules, solving problems, and planning activities. Working together on projects and in discussions fosters a sense of both community and collective responsibility. What comes to mind is a quote from Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed:
“Teachers and students (leadership and people), co-intent on reality, are both Subjects, not only in the task of unveiling that reality, and thereby coming to know it critically, but in the task of re-creating that knowledge. As they attain this knowledge of reality through common reflection and action, they discover themselves as its permanent re-creators. In this way, the presence of the oppressed in the struggle for their liberation will be what it should be: not pseudo-participation, but committed involvement” (56).
Emphasizing learning through engagement, dialogue, and action, a revolutionary political education is about fostering a mindset of curiosity, empathy, and action–empowering children and adults with the knowledge to become informed and put theory to work to improve the material conditions in their communities.
In what ways can parenting be “liberated” from the nuclear family model and instead be centered on more creative communities of care?
I think about the nuclear family model as a heteronormative colonial-capitalist imposition, so liberating parenting from this model involves reimagining family structures and practices in ways that both resist and reject colonial and Western-centric norms. Parenting was never meant to be the sole responsibility of one or even two people, and parenting for Black families and in Black communities has always meant queering these norms to meet our survival needs. A liberated approach embraces communal, intergenerational, and holistic methods of raising children as well as caring for our aging family members, focusing on collective well-being, and cultural continuity.
We can liberate parenting from nuclear models by returning to community-based child rearing which emphasizes the role of extended family and community members in raising children. It is also important to decenter biological ties to recognize and affirm non-biological familial relationships such as those formed through community bonds, chosen families, and kinship networks. This approach values the varied contributions of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and community elders, and fosters a sense of community responsibility and support by distributing the caregiving load. This not only provides diverse role models and mentors for children and strengthens family and community bonds across generations, but it also frees up some capacity for primary parents and caregiving to contribute otherwise to their communities
Finally, I think about how parenting is often treated as separate from revolutionary work, and how there are often few parents in organizing collective and organizations. Liberating parenting from the nuclear model would also mean honoring and valuing the essential, yet often invisible labor that sustains individuals and communities: social reproduction work. This work includes activities such as caregiving, domestic tasks, and emotional support which are fundamental to the functioning of society but frequently undervalued (and under-compensated). I think we do a disservice to our movements and our liberatory objectives by treating parenting and caregiving as less important and separate work. I don’t know how we think we’re getting free without parents/caregivers and their important skills at the strategy table.
What are some support structures you have used in parenting? What are some resources (books, movies, etc.) you would recommend for parents committed to liberation?
I haven't used many support structures, because they haven’t always been accessible or available to me. I am, however, really interested in supporting the creation and sustaining of support for parents in my home community. I’m inspired by the childcare collectives I see doing really important work in other cities.
As for resources, we’re a big reading family, so a lot of learning through reading and discussion. Some favorites for my children include:
How Many Grown-ups Do You Have? A book about unconventional families – this is a book for children of non-traditional families and those who are interested in introducing children to the idea that families look all sorts of ways.
A Day With No Words – a book about an autistic boy who communicates without verbal speech and communicates with his needs and desires to his mother through his tablet and in other ways.
An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States for Young People – this book examines the legacy of Indigenous peoples' resistance, resilience, and fight against imperialism.
In addition to reading, it is important for me to create space for what can be considered uncomfortable conversations with the young people in my life. I have “Sex Ed On the Cards,” an educational card set about sex, bodies, consent and relationships. This is especially important as most schools teach abstinence-only sex education or no sex education at all. Young people who are equipped with accurate information have better sexual health practices and outcomes.
We also enjoy a card game called “Talking Point” for families which has 200 discussion cards designed by family therapy, counseling, and communication professionals. The cards are excellent conversation starters and are a great way to have informal discussions about a spectrum of topics. I’ve learned a lot about the young people in my life through using them.
Jalessah T. Jackson is a m(other), RJ practitioner, educator, curriculum writer, and antidisciplinary cultural worker. They are the founder of the Decolonial Feminist Collective, a project utilizing decolonial/Black feminist frameworks in political education, mutual aid, and international solidarity-building. As a community-based educator, their work inside the classroom and beyond exemplifies the interrelationship between study and struggle.
Roberto Sirvent is the Editor of the Black Agenda Report Book Forum.