Learning Communities as Divided Communities: Obstacles for a Shared Future

Barbara McCabe,

Queen’s University Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Citizenship education in Northern Ireland

Northern Ireland is a highly researched region and many people have written about it over the years of inter-communal conflict. Education has been, and remains, a significant interest for many researchers, although the vast majority of them have tended to focus on schools. The other area in which many researchers, particularly international ones have been interested in is conflict resolution – the dynamics of conflict and the dynamics of the peace process, the post-conflict era and dealing with the legacy of the past. Schools are one of the clearest manifestations of the long-standing inter-communal divisions in this society and which long pre-date the most recent conflict. Researchers and activists have been very interested in the potential contribution that schools can and have made, and the over-arching theme of these interests has been ‘community relations’ (a focus on the inter-relationship between the broadly Protestant unionist community and the broadly Catholic nationalist community). therefore research in schools has often prioritised community relations aspects of curriculum, extra-curricular community relations projects and the big ‘community relations’ experiment that is integrated schools.

Other aspects of educational provision across Northern Ireland have received less attention. I am interested in examining the role of community-based educational initiatives in Northern Ireland and in particular interested in how community-based educational initiatives ‘negotiate’ the deeply divided society in which they operate and in which they aim to promote a sense of active citizenship.

Historically people in Northern Ireland would shy away from the subject of citizenship and one would often hear the refrain, ‘But citizen of where?’ However, in the 1990s a number of developments moved the debate on.

The 1990s saw a significant effort to move Northern Ireland on politically, with the 1994 paramilitary ceasefires followed by the peace process which resulted in the Good Friday or Belfast Agreement. The Agreement was overwhelmingly endorsed by the people of Northern Ireland though the rhetoric of anti-Agreement politicians continued to attack it. Notwithstanding this, it included references to citizenship such that people could now say with some degree of confidence that there was an answer to the question ‘citizen of where?’ The agreement actually makes reference to citizenship-related issues in the section entitled ‘Constitutional Issues’ so that the pro-Agreement parties and the two governments (British and Irish) pledged to…

para. 1 (i) recognise the legitimacy of whatever choice is freely exercised by a majority of the people of Northern Ireland with regard to its status, whether they prefer to continue to support the Union with Great Britain or a sovereign united Ireland;

para. 1 (vi) recognise the birthright of all the people of Northern Ireland to identify themselves and be accepted as Irish or British, or both, as they may so choose, and accordingly confirm that their right to hold both British and Irish citizenship is accepted by both Governments and would not be affected by any future change in the status of Northern Ireland.

In 1998 the Crick Report produced proposals for the development of a citizenship curriculum for schools in England and Wales. Crick brought forward the themes of social and moral responsibility, community involvement and political literacy to act as the basis for these developments.

However, it was apparent to those working on a citizenship curriculum for Northern Ireland schools that the Crick themes did not address local circumstances sufficiently and that a different approach was required. What emerged was a citizenship curriculum characterised by the somewhat different themes of diversity and social inclusion, equality and justice, democracy and active participation in civil society (Kerr et al, 2002).

In adult community education, political developments such as the peace process and the Agreement and the new political context they established opened the way to increased willingness to engage with the ‘political’, not least because community activists were aware that renewed local decision-making opened up opportunities for local lobbying and influence.

The concept of citizenship has always been seen as a contested one, not least in the socially, economically and politically marginalised working class communities of Northern Ireland where the burden of conflict and conflict-related death and injury fell most heavily. And yet considerable European peace and reconciliation funding was to be spent on citizenship-related activities and learning. Whilst the school curriculum emphasised the contested nature of the subject and the need to investigate a range of perspectives, so community education has always been confronted with the reality that a ‘loyalty-based’ citizenship curriculum would be unsustainable. Issues around authority and the state simply could not be assumed in any form of citizenship education for an adult population moving out of conflict. Remember that there are significant numbers of people in Northern Ireland who have not only believed that the state did not protect them, but who viewed the state as something they needed protection from. On this basis we cannot start with the assumption that the state or its agents is neutral. Nor can we say that all communities have the same experience. Historically unionist and nationalist communities have very different attitudes towards, and experiences of, the state and attach very different meanings to the symbols, structures and institutions of the state. What emerged was a model that we came to call ‘critical engagement’ with the state.

The nature of Northern Ireland society

Northern Ireland as a society is characterised by very significant division. Hillyard et al (2003) reported research, the basic aims of which were

1.  to provide a baseline, early 21st century measurement of poverty and social exclusion which can be updated periodically in the future;

2.  to provide data on the extent to which poverty and social exclusion vary across the nine dimensions of equality specified in Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act (1998); and

3.  to compare poverty levels in Northern Ireland with results of research on low incomes, poverty and social exclusion in Britain and poverty levels in the Republic of Ireland.

This research found that 185,000 households in Northern Ireland are poor; ½ million people live in poor households and there are marked differences between different social groups. The disabled are twice as likely to be poor as the non-disabled. The youngest age group is twice as likely as the oldest to be poor. Women are more likely than men and Catholics are 1.4 times more likely than Protestants. Around 150,000 children (37.4%) are being brought up in poverty.

The table below highlights a number of distinctions between the Northern Ireland average, Belfast figures (where the majority of areas suffering greatest deprivation are located) and North Down (one of the most affluent areas of Northern Ireland.

Belfast / N Ireland / North Down
Men (2002-04) / 73.5 yrs / 75.8 yrs / 77.8 yrs
Women (2002-04) / 79.4 yrs / 80.6 yrs / 81.7 yrs
Deaths Under 75 yrs / 39.0 % / 38.7 % / 31.4 %
% adults in Income Support Households / 13.5 % / 8.8 % / 3.7 %
% children in Income Support Households / 40.4 % / 23.3 % / 10.9 %
School leavers with 5 + A-C GCSEs / 55.6 % / 63.1 % / 73.3 %

Information gathered from the Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency http://www.ninis.nisra.gov.uk/

Many people might immediately think about the political/religious divide – the conflict between Protestants and Catholics, or more accurately between Unionists and Nationalists. These political divisions carry across to residential segregation, with large proportions of the population living in areas in which their community is in the majority. The education system is also characterised by segregation – not only in terms of Protestant and Catholic schools, but in terms of gender and in terms of supposed academic ability – the testing of which correlates very closely to class, thus rendering schools largely divided along class grounds as well.

Residential segregation is also an important aspect of Northern Ireland society. It is the normative experience of living in Belfast and beyond and has wider implications for living conditions. Statistics from the Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency for one community in Belfast – the working class Protestant Shankill area - identifies significant educational disadvantage. The Shankill 2 ward is the 2nd most deprived area (across all domains) in Northern Ireland and 1st most deprived in terms of education, skills and training. The Shankill 1 ward is the 7th most deprived area (across all domains) but 2nd most deprived in terms of education, skills and training (2005 figures). In the working age population of the Shankill area 67.6% have no qualifications compared to the Northern Ireland average of 41.6% and while the average for graduates is 15.8%, only 3.1% have a degree or higher in the Shankill. The Noble report (2005) reveals a pattern in which the most deprived wards within Northern Ireland are systematically those which are well over 90% Protestant or Catholic.

A great deal of research has been done on all of these dimensions of division but recent research in relation to fear and separation is very telling. In north Belfast the district of Ardoyne is an interface area. Interfaces identify sharp lines of separation between local Protestant and Catholic populations – they can be characterised by high walls and fences, or may be invisible to those from outside whilst clear to ‘locals’. There are approximately 20 such walls in Belfast, mainly in north Belfast, reflecting its ‘patchwork’ demography. Shirlow (2003) calculates that 70% of conflict-related deaths occurred within 500 metres of an interface and 80% occurred in areas that were either 90% Protestant or Catholic. One quarter of all conflict-related deaths in over 30 years of violence occurred within one mile of the loci of the area of Ardoyne.The vast majority of people living in these areas will not voluntarily travel into areas where the ‘other’ community represents a majority – larger numbers of local people have reported being victims of violent attacks since the 1994 ceasefires. Research (Bradley, 2000) estimates that 60% of the adult population suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. One in 18 of the local population has experienced the conflict-related death of an immediate family member (this compares with 0.003 per 100 of the Northern Ireland population as a whole).

Shirlow (2003) identifies the role of ‘narrative’ in maintaining identity and separation. The majority of people will accuse the ‘other side’ of perpetrating the violence and will tend not to acknowledge the violence that comes from within their own community (thus perpetuating a victim-perpetrator dichotomy). A small minority of people in both communities who will cross boundaries report the same high levels of attack. But they report a different narrative – one that identifies violence as coming from within their community as much as from the other community. Their ‘story’ tells them they are as ‘safe’ (or unsafe) in other areas as their own. The ‘story’ of others tells them the opposite and the behaviour of both groups follows the patterns they have established in their own narratives. The narrative determines the scope for movement across boundaries, the movement – or lack of it – reinforces the narrative.

Feeling and believing themselves to be victimised is central to many people’s identity.

Apart from this research providing a more complex picture of community it also identifies potentially intriguing roles for educational initiatives which aim to address the issue of narrative. Narrative is an important educational tool. As Rossiter says, ‘Learners connect new knowledge with lived experience and weave it into existing narratives of meaning.’ (2003) This is where the premise upon which local adult community education is largely based – namely negotiation – of content and style, of when, where and who becomes significant.

Principles of community education

There are many meanings attached to the term Adult Community Education (ACE) and little agreement about what constitutes this form of education. Broadly speaking Colley et al (2002) identify a wide range of activities and approaches which might be described as falling into three categories – formal, non-formal and informal. There has traditionally been a tendency to view ACE as the informal education sector but closer examination highlights significant formal characteristics, such as the formal role of a teacher or tutor, a pre-designed programme of study, formal start-finish arrangements and even assessment and accreditation of the learning. Those working in the community education field may see the education as ‘informal’ but it may be that they are referring to an informal, more democratic, style rather than a model of informal education itself.

Adult community education is based on an assumption that it is important to start ‘where people are at’. In Northern Ireland, this has meant that organisations involved in this sort of work, such as the Workers Educational Association (WEA) and the Ulster People’s College, have increasingly found themselves travelling to communities which we might define as educationally disadvantaged. This makes for very geographically diverse working environments. The interests and concerns of local participants tend to inform the curriculum, even of courses attracting accreditation, which means that tutors are constantly adapting and researching local information in order to build a picture of the local context for learning.