UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

Dialogue in radical hospitality : creating meaning of democratic education through dialogic cooking Roll, Ofira 2019

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Notice for Google Chrome users:
If you are having trouble viewing or searching the PDF with Google Chrome, please download it here instead.

Item Metadata

Download

Media
24-ubc_2019_september_roll_ofira.pdf [ 13.34MB ]
Metadata
JSON: 24-1.0380406.json
JSON-LD: 24-1.0380406-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 24-1.0380406-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 24-1.0380406-rdf.json
Turtle: 24-1.0380406-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 24-1.0380406-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 24-1.0380406-source.json
Full Text
24-1.0380406-fulltext.txt
Citation
24-1.0380406.ris

Full Text

	DIALOGUE	IN	RADICAL	HOSPITALITY:	CREATING	MEANING	OF	DEMOCRATIC	EDUCATION	THROUGH	DIALOGIC	COOKING		by		OFIRA	ROLL		B.Ed.,	Kibbutzim	College	of	Education,	2002	M.A.,	University	of	Pittsburgh,	2009		A	DISSERTATION	SUBMITTED	IN	PARTIAL	FULFILLMENT	OF		THE	REQUIREMENTS	FOR	THE	DEGREE	OF	DOCTOR	OF	PHILOSOPHY	in	THE	FACULTY	OF	GRADUATE	AND	POSTDOCTORAL	STUDIES		(Curriculum	Studies)	THE	UNIVERSITY	OF	BRITISH	COLUMBIA	(Vancouver)				August	2019	©	Ofira	Roll,	2019		 ii	The	following	individuals	certify	that	they	have	read,	and	recommend	to	the	Faculty	of	Graduate	and	Postdoctoral	Studies	for	acceptance,	the	dissertation	entitled:	Dialogue	in	Radical	Hospitality:	Creating	Meaning	of	Democratic	Education	through	Dialogic	Cooking	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	submitted	by			 Ofira	Roll		 	 in	partial	fulfillment	of	the	requirement	for		the	degree	of			 Doctor	of	Philosophy	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	in		 	 	 Curriculum	Studies	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	 	Examining	Committee:	Rita	Irwin,	Curriculum	Studies	Supervisor	Shauna	Butterwick,	Education	Studies	Supervisory	Committee	Member	William	Pinar,	Curriculum	Studies	Supervisory	Committee	Member	Hsiao-Cheng	Sandrine	Han,	Curriculum	Studies	University	Examiner	Samuel	David	Rocha,	Educational	Studies	University	Examiner	Christine	Ballengee	Morris,		External	Examiner		 iii	Abstract	This	study	explores	the	playful	dialogical	process	of	creating	meaning	while	cooking	collaboratively	with	the	teaching	staff	in	a	democratic	school	in	Vancouver,	British	Columbia.	All	Kindergarten	to	Grade-12	staff	members	in	the	school	were	invited	to	participate	in	this	study.	Of	the	22	staff,	16	chose	to	participate	in	yearlong	gatherings	in	which	we	cooked	collaboratively	while	sharing,	reflecting,	questioning,	and	creating	meaning	with	one	another’s	practices,	beliefs,	and	narratives.	Through	this	artistic	socially	engaged	and	participatory	research,	a	new	meaning	of	democratic	education	was	created	together	and	apart.	These	methodologies	invited	the	staff	to	be	equal	participants	in	complicated	conversations	within	and	beyond	the	walls	of	the	school,	as	mentors,	members	in	the	community,	teachers,	friends,	parents,	artists,	and	at	times	participant	researchers.	The	four	gatherings	throughout	the	year	were	video	and	audio-recorded.	They	included	complicated	conversations	while	collaborative	cooking	took	place.	The	entry	and	exit	small	group	interviews	were	also	audio-recorded.	Those	gatherings	and	interviews	assisted	participants	in	creating	a	new	meaning	of	democratic	education	for	them	as	collective	and	as	relational	individuals.	This	study	situated	complicated	conversations	and	cooking	collaboratively	as	an	inquiry	that	focused	on	creating	meaning	in	which	dialogue	could	engage	the	community	with	topics	they	deemed	important.	Through	cooking	and	feasting	together,	we	held	the	intention	of	creating	trusted	space	with	a	sense	of	nurturing	and	hospitality	in	which	we	encountered	difficult	knowledge	together	while	creating	meaning	of	democratic	education.	This	study	may	contribute	to	a	greater	understanding	of	democratic	education.	It	offers	the	understanding	that	a	school	community	(a)	can	support	an	ongoing	process	of	dialogic	culture;	(b)	benefits	from	engaging	in	an	artistic	collaborative	process	while	sharing	nurturing	spaces	that	holds	feasts;	and	(c)	is	capable	of	making	democratic	practices	for	personal	growth,	compassion,	sense	of	agency,	and	democratic	structures	within	a	community,	available	and	tangible	for	Kindergarten	to	Grade-12	students,	staff,	and	families	at	the	individual	and	collective	spheres	on	the	local	and	global	level.		 iv	Lay	Summary	Democratic	education	supports	individual	and	the	collective	to	explore,	collaborate,	and	express	their	evolving	self.	In	the	context	of	this	study,	dialogue	paves	way	to	encounter	each	other	authentically	and	to	engage	in	complicated	conversations	and	meaning	making.	Through	collaborative	cooking	and	feasting	together,	the	shared	experience	offered	us	reflective	pauses,	challenged	us	to	listen	deeply,	and	allowed	us	to	dwell	in	the	becoming	as	individuals	and	as	a	collective.	This	process	illuminated	that	openness,	adaptiveness,	unfinishness,	humility,	and	community	enable	us	to	fully	engage	in	an	ongoing	exploration	for	the	sake	of	the	journey	in	its	own	unique	context.			 v	Preface	This	thesis	is	original,	independent	work	by	the	author,	Ofira	Roll.	This	thesis	is,	to	the	best	of	the	author’s	knowledge,	unpublished,	except	where	references	are	made	to	previous	work	(e.g.,	Roll,	2014,	2017a,	2017b).	I	designed	and	conducted	the	research	process,	analyzed	the	data,	and	wrote	this	dissertation	following	guidance	from	committee	members	and	others	whom	I	recognize	in	the	Acknowledgements	section	of	this	report.	This	research	received	a	certificate	of	approval	from	the	University	of	British	Columbia,	Office	of	Research	Services	on	November	9,	2015.	The	UBC	Behavioural	Research	Ethics	Board	certificate	number	is	H15-02467.		 vi	Table	of	Contents	Abstract	..................................................................................................................................................................	iii	Lay	Summary	.......................................................................................................................................................	iv	Preface	.....................................................................................................................................................................	v	Table	of	Contents	................................................................................................................................................	vi	List	of	Figures	.....................................................................................................................................................	viii	Acknowledgements	...........................................................................................................................................	ix	Chapter	1:	A	Beginning	.......................................................................................................................................	1	Positioning	Myself	as	a	Democratic	School	Ally	....................................................................................................	9	Chapter	2:	The	Story	of	Windsor	House	Community	and	its	Extended	Democratic	Education	Family	...............................................................................................................................................	15	Windsor	House	.................................................................................................................................................................	17	Democratic	Education	...................................................................................................................................................	23	Chapter	3:	Assembling	Dialogue	and	Artistic	Socially	Engaged	Collaboration	............................	33	Understanding	Dialogue	...............................................................................................................................................	34	Buber	............................................................................................................................................................................	35	Bakhtin	.........................................................................................................................................................................	41	Arendt	...........................................................................................................................................................................	47	Bohm	.............................................................................................................................................................................	52	Biesta	............................................................................................................................................................................	59	Artistic	Socially	Engaged	Collaboration	................................................................................................................	68	Chapter	4:	Tabouleh	Methodologies	...........................................................................................................	80	Being	with	A/r/tographic	Inquiry	...........................................................................................................................	81	Democracy	in	Schools?	What?	...................................................................................................................................	94	Undertaking	the	Study	..................................................................................................................................................	96	Stage	1:	Small-group,	unstructured	entry	interviews	.............................................................................	96	Stage	2:	Group	meetings	while	cooking	collaboratively	........................................................................	96	Stage	3:	Small-group	or	individual	unstructured	exit	interviews	......................................................	97	First	interview	–	December	9,	2015	................................................................................................................	97	Second	interview	–	December	14,	2015	........................................................................................................	98	Third	interview	–	December	15,	2015	...........................................................................................................	99	Fourth	interview	–	December	17,	2015	.........................................................................................................	99	Fifth	interview	–	January	11,	2016	...............................................................................................................	100	Ingredients	are	ready	for	our	cooking	........................................................................................................	101	Chapter	5:	I	Am	Here	With	You	..................................................................................................................	103	Individual,	Collective,	and	Democratic	................................................................................................................	107	Being	With,	Listening,	and	Assisting	....................................................................................................................	118	From	Complicated	Conversations	to	Dialogue	................................................................................................	130	Interruption	Wings	Look	for	Adaptation	Branches	.......................................................................................	140	Consent	Culture	and	Dialogical	Skill	Set	.............................................................................................................	142	Reminding	Us	to	Be	Our	Own	Guest	Within	Hospitality	.............................................................................	146	Chapter	6:	Radical	Hospitality	is	the	Host	..............................................................................................	154	Radical	Hospitality	Then	and	Now	.......................................................................................................................	159	Radical	Hospitality	in	the	Eyes	of	Democracy	.................................................................................................	163		 vii	Art	as	an	Interruption—Laying	the	Groundwork	for	Dialogue	................................................................	164	Radical	Hospitality	Meets	Dialogue	......................................................................................................................	168	Chapter	7:	The	End	of	the	Beginning	.......................................................................................................	171	Salatim,	Seh-oo-da,	Teh,	and	Democratic	Education	....................................................................................	174	Salatim	.......................................................................................................................................................................	174	Seh-oo-da	.................................................................................................................................................................	176	Teh	..............................................................................................................................................................................	178	How	Can	Democratic	Education	be	Done	and	What	is	Next?	....................................................................	180	Be	it	and	Live	it	..............................................................................................................................................................	183	Future	Thoughts	...........................................................................................................................................................	184	Future	implications	for	Windsor	House	.....................................................................................................	184	Future	implications	for	mainstream	education	......................................................................................	184	Implications	for	future	research	....................................................................................................................	187	Future	implications	for	socially	engaged	art-based	practices	..........................................................	187	Keeping	a	sense	of	awe,	wonder,	and	gratitude	......................................................................................	188	References	........................................................................................................................................................	191	Appendix	A:	Invitation	Letter	.....................................................................................................................	206	Appendix	B:	Consent	Form	..........................................................................................................................	207	Appendix	C:	Unstructured	Questions	for	Creating	Meanings	of	Democratic	Education	Interview	...........................................................................................................................................................	210	Appendix	D:	Unstructured	Questions	Reflective	Interview	.............................................................	211			 viii	List	of	Figures	Figure	1.	Becoming	a	tablecloth.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	...........................................................................	1	Figure	2.	Windsor	House	Welcome	Sign.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	.......................................................	15	Figure	3.	Tabbouleh	being.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	....................................................................................	33	Figure	4.	The	human	condition.	By	Ofira	Roll.	.......................................................................................	38	Figure	5.	Living	metaphorically.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	.........................................................................	80	Figure	6.	Hospitality.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	..............................................................................................	103	Figure	7.	Radial	Hospitality.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	..............................................................................	154	Figure	8.	Interruptions.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	........................................................................................	171				 ix	Acknowledgements	Ido	This	journey	of	nurturing	self	in	relation	to	others	is	a	fruit	of	a	trustful	dialogue	with	you	my	dear	partner,	who	is	brave	enough	to	continue	exploring	with	me	new	meaning,	new	beginnings,	and	truths.	Omile,	Oreni,	Yuvali	Thank	you	for	making	me,	Ee-ma.	I	am	thankful	for	each	day	in	my	life	with	each	of	you.	You	invite	me	to	come	from	my	heart	and	always	remind	me	to	walk	my	talk.	Miriam	and	Israel	Cohen	Ee-ma	and	Aba,	I	love	you	all	my	life.	Dganiti,	Meravi,	Aharonile	Growing	up	with	each	of	you	my	sisters	and	brother	has	made	me	a	better	human.	Memke	You	are	the	source	of	who	I	am.	Joee,	Liora,	Debbile,	Adriana,	Jenny,	Rosemary,	Judith,	Meghan,	Maya,	Tzipi,	Kristi,	Laurie,	Sue		On	sunny	days,	on	darker	days,	or	on	any	other	day,	I	feel	hugged	by	your	trust	and	wisdom	to	voice	my	voice	in	relation	to	yours	in	the	world.	Dora,	Kerena,	Yochile,	Dorile	My	adopted	sisters	and	brothers,	my	inner	voice	often	checks	what	each	of	you	would	suggest	at	this	moment.		Ben-Shoshanim,	Cohenim,	Alperinim,	Flicherim,	Zagurim	You	are	my	tribe	that	I	bring	with	me	to	any	community	I	join	or	co-create.	Yaacov	and	Shirley	Thank	you	for	inviting	me	years	ago	to	the	democratic	education	gang.	Windsor	House	&	Intentional	Community	Where	I	am	welcome	to	be	whatever	I	am	in	any	given	moment.	Rita,	Bill,	Shauna	Who	choose	to	listen,	challenge,	inspire,	and	nurture.	Friends	and	neighbours	Who	understand	the	small	steps	of	daily	life.	Gloria	Your	practice	and	others	at	Semperviva	made	this	journey	possible,	Sat	Nam.		Basia	For	believing	in	me	that	I	will	reach	this	moment	from	my	first	day	at	UBC.	Shanaya		Your	support	behind	the	scenes	is	appreciated.	 1	Chapter	1:	A	Beginning				Figure	1.	Becoming	a	tablecloth.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.			“The	new	beginning	inherent	in	birth	can	make	itself	felt	in	the	world	only	because	the	newcomer	possesses	the	capacity	of	beginning	something	anew,	that	is,	of	acting”	(Hannah	Arendt,	1958,	p.	9)		 		 2	Sewing	x	after	x	realizing	there	are	many	ways	to	sew	meaning.		Sewing	x	after	x.		where	dialogue	and	hospitality	come	together	to	create	a	new	meaning	of	democratic	education.		At	the	beginning	of	making	the	tablecloth,	I	chose	to	do	the	same	pattern	over	and	over	in	the	same	way,	until	the	sewing	thread	ended	and	I	could	restart	from	a	different	direction.		It	led	me	to	a	different	pattern.	A	pattern	that	disturbs,	interrupts,	and	creates	an	opportunity	to	a	new	way	for		meaning	making.		The	new	pattern,	as	in	dialogue,	invites	unknowns,	mistakes,	and	even	failures.		Sewing	x	after	x,	wonders	come,	x	after	x,	is	it	a	mistake	or	simply	a	different	way	of	doing	it,	of	being	it,	of	understanding	it?	What	is	a	failure	and	who	is	to	define	it	as	one?		Continuing	x	after	x	sewing	new	meaning,	new	beginnings…	I	open	this	thesis	with	the	Sewing	X	After	X	piece,	which	I	wrote	during	my	a/r/tographic	journey.	Making	a	tablecloth	played	a	nurturing	role	within	this	lonely	process	of	writing	a	dissertation,	especially	when	relationality	is	discussed	and	studied	but	may	not	always	be	present	in	the	lived	experience	(Irwin,	2004).	I	found	making	the	tablecloth	to	be	like	the	dialogical	relationships	I	encountered	at	Windsor	House	where	this	study	resides.	The	writing	process	of	this	study	took	place	over	several	years.	My	understanding	of	dialogue,	hospitality,	artistic	collaboration,	democratic	education,	and	radical	hospitality	developed	over	time,	each	developing	during	different	phases	in	my	inquiry.	As	Pinar	(1994)	describes	the	concept	of	curriculum	as	currere,	my	claim	is	that	the	writing	of	this	dissertation	is	much	like	that	of	currere,	as	it	reflects	the	past,	continues	on	into	the	present,	and	considers	the	future.	As	Pinar’s	(1994)	notion	of	currere	offers,	in	this	process	of	writing,	I	slowed	down,	re-entered	the	past,	and	wrote	whatever	surfaced.	Later,	I	turned	to	an	imagined	future	that	allowed	me	to	conceive	of	what	would	come	next	in	terms	of	understanding,	questions,	and	hope.	Next,	I	experienced	an	analytic	moment,	when	I	analyzed	what	arose	from	the	past	and	what	I	had	imagined	for	the	future	into	an	understanding	of	the	present.	Last,	I	re-entered	the	lived	present	and	pulled	it	all	together	in	writing.		 3	Participants’	voices	within	this	thesis,	including	mine,	are	justified	toward	the	right	side	of	the	page,	and	all	quotes	are	italicized.	This	same	format	is	used	for	large	quotations	from	others’	voices,	such	as	theorists,	philosophers,	and	educationalist;	this	is	to	remind	readers	of	my	understanding	that	the	notion	of	“the	right	way	to	do	or	act”	is	not	necessary	in	the	story	of	Windsor	House.	Thus,	each	voice	holds	one	vote,	no	matter	what	role	one	has	in	the	study,	in	Windsor	House,	or	in	the	world.	I	am	aware	of	the	fact	that	many	would	not	experience	the	world	in	this	way,	given	that	power	structures	are	present.	However,	I	write	with	the	view	that	each	voice	has	one	vote,	no	matter	what.	I	chose	this	visual	positioning	purposefully,	as	it	relates	to	many	experiences	I	have	had	as	a	Hebrew	speaker	within	an	English-dominant	culture.	By	justifying	my	writing	to	the	right	side	of	this	thesis,	I	am	encouraging	readers	to	question:	is	it	right	to	write	on	the	right,	is	it	wrong,	or	is	it	different?	That	being	said,	I	am	aware	of	the	fact	that	it	is	neither	right	nor	wrong.	Given	that	my	signature	is	in	Hebrew,	I	sign	from	right	to	left,	and	I	have	heard	people	comment,	“Oh,	you	sign	from	the	wrong	side.”	I	have	to	admit	that	here,	in	Vancouver,	I	tend	to	hear	comments	such	as,	“You	sign	from	the	other	side.”	Sometimes	people	use	the	terms	opposite	or	different.		This	dissertation	is	contextualized	and	written	at	a	particular	time	and	place,	that	is,	a	transitional	time	to	a	new	curriculum	in	elementary	and	secondary	education	in	British	Columbia.	Moreover,	I	live	and	work	on	unceded	and	traditional	territories	of	the	xʷməθkwəy̓əm	(Musqueam),	Skwxwú7mesh	(Squamish),	and	Səlil#wətaɬ	(Tsleil-Waututh)	Nations.	I	am	also	aware	that	many	educational	systems	have	been	asked	to	focus	on	learning	that	is	accountable	and	evidence	based	(Biesta,	2006).	This	has	meant	that	educators	and	administrators	have	been	asked	to	implement	evidence-based	strategies	in	which	learning	can	be	measured,	categorized,	compared,	and	labelled.	As	Biesta	(2018)	elaborates,		They	may	well	wonder	how,	in	a	rather	short	period	of	time,	almost	the	entire	globe	became	obsessed	with	measurable	learning	outcomes,	with	league	tables,	with	comparison	and	competition,	and	with	creating	education	systems	that,	in	the	name	of	lofty	ambitions	such	as	that	every	child	supposedly	matters,	were	actually	producing		 4	insurmountable	hierarchies	and	inequalities	where	few	could	win	and	many	would	lose.	(p.	12)	The	arguments	about	the	importance	of	measurements	and	evidence	in	education	establish	an	environment	without	much	space	for	creating	meaning,	experiencing	uncertainty,	holding	dialogue,	doing	art	for	the	art’s	sake	(Biesta,	2018),	and	simply	being.	Windsor	House	is	a	lived	example	for	a	public	school	at	which	there	is	much	space	for	creating	meaning	and	doing	art	for	creating	new	knowledge,	all	toward	experiencing	uncertainty.	In	the	fall	of	2015,	the	Province	of	British	Columbia	began	a	3-year	process	of	transitioning	to	a	new	curriculum.	In	parallel,	the	Vancouver	School	Board	(VSB)	followed	the	current	regulations:	as	a	result,	new	and	old	clashed	with	one	another.	This	gradual	transitioning	to	a	student-centred	education	system	holds	the	hope	of	meeting	every	student’s	goals	and	needs.	Yet,	the	VSB	website	declares,	The	goals	of	the	revisions	have	included	ensuring	our	students	get	the	skills	they	need	to	succeed	in	our	changing	world,	and	making	sure	that	teachers	can	deliver	the	curriculum	efficiently	and	effectively.	The	number	of	learning	outcomes	has	been	reduced,	providing	more	time	and	flexibility	for	students	to	explore	topics	in	depth.	(Government	of	British	Columbia,	n.d.,	para.	1)	With	those	changes	and	goals,	important	questions	still	remain	open.	In	what	ways	are	the	goals	of	the	new	curriculum	different	and	innovative	in	relation	to	the	previous	curriculum?	What	does	it	offer	to	the	education	experience	that	was	not	there	before?	What	new	connections	are	made	in	the	new	curriculum	to	experiencing	democratic	principles	beyond	the	individual	skills	and	outcomes	while	securing	a	path	to	success	that	includes	compassion,	a	sense	of	agency,	and	democratic	structures	within	a	community?	In	what	ways	does	the	new	curriculum	shift	its	main	goals	of	what	education	produces	to	what	education	means?	The	new	British	Columbia	(BC)	curriculum	goals	use	pedagogies	of	inquiry-based	and	self-regulated	learning	that	may	allow	for	a	more	flexible	and	innovative	studying	environment.	At	the	same	time,	the	new	curriculum	focuses	a	lot	on	individual	experiences,	knowledge,	skills,	outcomes,	and	the	ability	to	succeed.	It	focuses	mainly	on		 5	learning	achievements	with	outcomes	and	structure	as	opposed	to	staying	attuned	to	the	process	of	experiencing	and	being	in	the	world.		Although	the	new	BC	curriculum	brings	grand	ideas	for	future	changes,	which	are	computer-based	individual	study,	economic	adaptations	are	needed	to	meet	these	plans	in	schools.	Many	schools	must	focus	on	a	lack	of	essential	equipment	such	as	computers	before	determining	what	to	do	with	those	computers	(Woo,	2016).	In	addition,	there	is	another	important	argument	regarding	this	new	curriculum,	that	is,	this	brand	new	curriculum	is	informed	by	neoliberal	agenda	that	devaluated	the	role	of	teachers,	as	Steeves	(2012)	discusses,		A	Vision	for	21st	Century	Education	promotes	a	vision	of	schooling	that	is	largely	a	neoliberal	and	managerialist	enterprise	that	relegates	teachers	and	teaching	to	subordinate	roles	within	processes	of	policy	development	and	policy	implementation	…	a	vision	for	21st	Century	Education:	‘learnification’	translates	and	reduces	public	education	to	terms	of	‘learners’	and	‘learning,’	and	‘accountingization’	re-imagines	teachers’	work	as	‘that	which	can	be	counted.’	(p.	ii)	It	is	important	to	notice	that	the	new	curriculum	still	offers	purposes	and	goals	of	the	previous	philosophy	of	education.	Schools	are	still	asked	to	outline	what	they	can	offer	to	students	and	are	not	asked	to	inquire	and	explore	with	students.	Alongside	mainstream	education,	there	are	alternative	systems.	One	of	these	systems	is	known	as	Democratic	Education—an	alternative	to	the	learning	marathon	that	is	offered	by	mainstream	schools.	Democratic	school	characteristics	include,	for	instance,	no	grades	but	personal	evaluations,	no	set	class	schedules	but	individual	schedules,	no	hierarchical	punishments	but	community	government	with	rules	that	can	be	changed	by	members	of	all	ages	in	the	school	community	(Hecht,	2010).	This	study	explored	a	specific	democratic	school	in	North	Vancouver,	British	Columbia,	Canada:	Windsor	House	School.	I	have	been	granted	permission	to	identify	the	school	by	its	name.	As	a	democratic	school,	it	has	similar	characteristics	to	democratic	schools	worldwide.	As	described	on	the	Windsor	House	website,	the	core	principles	of	Windsor	House	School	are	“profound	respect,	self-	 6	determination,	democratic	governance,	multi-age	grouping,	parent	participation,	freedom	with	responsibility,	[and]	accountability”	(Windsor	House	School,	n.d.,	para.	2).	At	first,	this	research	came	together	as	a	community-based	project,	one	that	employed	participatory	research	practices,	taking	place	as	an	a/r/tographic	inquiry	focused	on	specific	aspects	within	democratic	education.	Over	time,	the	project	became	an	artistic	socially	engaged	participatory	collaborative	inquiry,	in	which	the	participants	and	I	explored	the	following	research	questions	that	were	raised	and	reshaped	by	participants	and	myself:		• What	does	democratic	education	mean	to	Windsor	House	staff	in	the	process	of	doing	(praxis),	knowing	(theoria),	and	making	(poesis)?	• What	roles	do	dialogue	and	communal	aspects	play	in	democratic	education?	• In	what	ways	does	cooking	together	influence	the	process	of	creating	meaning,	enabling	dialogue,	and	creating	community?	These	questions	were	important	for	understanding	the	complexity	of	democratic	education,	and	more	specifically	teaching	in	such	a	school.	This	complexity	brought	together	democratic	mechanisms	and	everyday	life	experiences.	The	democratic	mechanism	is	comprised	of	rules	and	agreements	created	by	members	in	the	community	regarding	how	they	should	treat	one	another	and	how	they	should	approach	(dis)agreements	through	dialogue.	Exploring	these	ideas	with	participants	raised	questions	related	to	work	in	a	democratic	school,	dialogue,	collaboration,	and	community.	As	such,	the	notion	of	dialogue	in	this	study	is	part	of	many	complicated	conversations	(Pinar,	2003)	that	concentrate	on	intersubjective	processes	in	which	participants	are	asked	to	encounter	each	other	through	dialogue.	The	notion	of	complicated	conversation	includes	dialogue	with	interruptions.	As	Biesta	(2015b)	explains,	the	challenge	in	dialogue	is	to	be	in	the	middle	ground,	in	which	one	can	experience	resistance	without	reaching	the	moment	of	having	too	much	pressure	so	they	may	choose	to	withdraw.	The	challenge	in	dialogue,	Biesta	(2015b)	continues,	is	to	be	together	with	the	world	while	knowing	that	it	is	different	from	you.	Biesta	(2018)	adds,			 7	To	exist	as	subject	is	about	what	we	do	and	about	what	we	refrain	from	doing.	It	is,	in	short,	not	about	who	we	are,	but	about	how	we	are	or,	more	realistically,	how	we	are	trying	to	be.…	Existing	as	subject	thus	requires	that	we	try	to	exist	in	dialogue	with	what	and	who	is	other	–	in	the	world	without	occupying	the	centre	of	the	world.…	To	exist	as	subject	thus	means	that	one	is	“turned”	towards	the	world	or,	in	educational	terms,	that	one	is	being	turned	towards	the	world,	that	one	is	being	shown	the	world.	(p.	15)	This	study	also	offered	artistic	social	engaged	collaboration	through	cooking.	In	this	study,	all	Windsor	House	educators	were	invited	to	participate	in	four	collaborative	cooking	and	conversational	gatherings	across	the	school	year	of	2016–2017.	During	these	gatherings,	cooking	and	other	forms	of	food	preparation	offered	space	and	hospitality	that	I	hoped	would	be	embodied,	holistic,	and	aesthetic.	The	experience	of	cooking	as	a	creative	process	while	conversing	about	democratic	education	engages	all	of	our	five	senses	simultaneously,	making	for	a	highly	sensory	experience.	Collaborative	cooking	offers	an	artistic	way	of	being	together	and	experiencing	a	sense	of	dialogue,	as	well	as	exploring	and	researching	the	process	of	creating	meaning	of	democratic	education	through	pedagogical	practices	that	involve	the	process	of	doing	(praxis),	knowing	(theoria),	and	making	(poesis).	The	participants	(school	staff	members)	and	I	(not	a	staff	member)	accomplished	this	by	being	together,	cooking,	listening,	sharing,	feasting,	and	questioning	our	stories.	As	my	grandmother,	Memeh,	claimed	(and	I	grew	to	believe),	food	brings	people	together	and	enables	individuals	to	have	conversations	and	(dis)agreements.	In	other	words,	individuals	are	able	to	remain	in	the	middle	ground	that	Biesta	(2015b)	describes.	My	grandmother,	Memeh,	grew	up	in	Morocco,	a	country	with	a	constitutional	monarchy,	where	a	democratic	mechanism	was	not	in	place.	Her	way	for	reaching	out	to	overcome	(dis)agreements	and	cultivate	new	thoughts	was	through	food	preparation	and	sharing.	For	her,	food	offered	hospitality	while	cultivating	a	sense	of	being	together	and	dealing	with	difficulties,	whereas	in	a	democratic	culture	rules	might	set	the	tone	for	‘fixing	things’	and	is	less	based	on	personal	communications.	It	is	not	to	say	that	one	needs	to	live	in	a	non-democratic	culture	to	be	hospitable,	but	rather	to	say	that	democratic	culture	may	promote	and	support		 8	interactions	amidst	differences.	As	Bronwen,	a	Windsor	staff	member,	shared	(personal	communication,	February	2,	2019),		Being	out	in	the	community	and	world	at	large,	…	[we]	need[ed]	to	become	more	interdependent	as	well	as	independent,	and	underlying	issues	could	not	be	simplified	or	unexplored.	The	result	for	some	groups	was	that	there	actually	seemed	to	be,	from	my	perspective,	more	real	integration	and	exploration	of	how	to	do	that	in	a	way	that	lifts	everyone	up	(and	we	then	get	to	feel	how	good	that	feels	and	how	everyone	benefits)	and	really	sees	everyone	on	a	deeper	level	and	in	the	moment	resolving	of	issues	that	needed	to	not	go	to	JC	[Justice	Committee]	but	needed	real	experiential	understanding	of	the	challenges	that	we	are	each	facing	in	every	moment	and	how	empowering	it	is	to	get	to	see	that	we	are	the	solution.	This	too	often	does	not	get	reflected	on	or	shared	in	a	JC,	where	there	isn’t	necessarily	a	strong	connection	to	the	event	for	all	involved.	To	me	this	is	more	reflective	of	perhaps	a	more	Indigenous/village	approach	to	repairing	relationships	and	connection	as	a	whole	group	because	we	need	everyone	to	be	healthy	for	the	well	being	of	all.	From	creating	meaning	to	collaborating	artistically,	my	personal	journey	comes	into	play	in	different	forms	as	a/r/tographic	processes	unfold.	I	found	that	my	personal	reflection	provided	a	space	to	experience	a	middle	ground	in	situations	that	created	educational	opportunities,	indicating	that	the	world	wanted	to	teach	me	something.	This	is	the	middle	ground	that	Biesta	(2015b)	refers	to	as	experiencing	grownupness,	in	which	I	question	whether	what	I	seek	is	desirable	according	to	self	in	relation	to	others.	It	is	in	this	middle	ground	that	the	ongoing	challenge	of	dialogue	exists	(Biesta,	2015b).	From	my	perspective,	coming	to	know	others’	needs	in	relation	to	one’s	own	needs	brings	people	closer	to	a	dialogical	space,	a	space	in	which	each	other’s	needs	provides	a	context	for	the	dialogue	to	happen.	Sewing	x	after	x,	walking	the	path	of	being	together.	X	after	x,	nurturing	a	sense	of	togetherness	with	the	intention	of	starting	a	dialogue.	X	after	x,	creating	togetherness	that	requires	continuity,	in	the	age	of	ongoing	transitions,	changes,	voices,	beliefs,	and	borders,	a	continuity	that	nurtures	trust.	For	instance,	during	the	process	of	writing	this	dissertation	I	encountered	health	difficulties.	This	led	me	to	question	whether	I	was	able	to	remain	in	this	middle	ground,	to	continue	in	the	challenge	of	dialogue,	or	to		 9	withdraw.	It	has	not	been	an	easy	choice	to	stay	engaged	for	the	entirety	of	the	dissertation	research.	There	were	days	when	writing	with	so	much	pain	in	my	body	made	me	wonder	whether	I	should	continue.	What	does	this	pain	tell	me?	How	does	it	connect	to	dialogue	and	my	experiences	with	hospitality?	Does	it	have	to	do	with	circulation—circulation	of	thoughts,	encounters,	giving,	and	receiving?	Does	it	relate	to	self-acceptance?	Or	could	it	be	an	invitation	to	meet	the	oppression	within	me	that	stops	me	now?	Does	it	matter	that	I	would	write	this	thesis?	Biesta	(2015b)	raises	a	similar	question:	“When	does	it	matter	that	I	am	I?”	(12:50).	His	question	occupied	my	heart	and	mind	during	this	struggle.	I	came	to	understand	that	it	is	important	to	continue	listening	to	one’s	voice	and	pain	in	order	to	be	able	to	continue	the	circulation	of	one’s	ideas	with	others	so	that	the	conversation	is	not	one	sided.	My	lived	experience	has	taught	me	that	self-acceptance	and	careful	listening	within	might	invite	others	to	share	their	experiences	with	the	world.		Biesta’s	(2015b)	question	of	“when	does	it	matter	that	I	am	I?”	continued	to	occupy	my	mind	and	heart	months	later,	while	I	took	care	of	my	grandmother,	Memeh,	in	her	last	weeks	in	the	physical	world.	This	crystalized	for	me	one	week,	because,	after	having	cared	for	my	grandmother	everyday	for	weeks,	I	had	to	miss	one	day,	and	my	sister	offered	to	go	in	my	stead.	When	my	sister	arrived	to	help	and	be	with	her,	Memeh	was	upset	it	was	not	me.	Memeh	could	not	explain	to	my	sister	why	it	made	any	difference	but	she	insisted	it	was	different	and	she	needed	me	right	then.	This	experience	made	another	crack	in	my	heart	and	furthered	my	understanding	of	deep	listening	for	when	does	it	matter	that	I	am	I	and	what	is	my	voice:	something	I	had	oppressed	for	years	in	my	studies	and	my	personal	life.	Questions	such	as	who	am	I,	why	me,	and	what	do	I	want	to	share	in	and	with	the	world	remain	open.		Positioning	Myself	as	a	Democratic	School	Ally	Although	my	first	degree	in	this	field	of	study	was	in	Creative	Education	and	included	a	Democratic	Education	certificate,	my	journey	as	a	child	began	and	ended	within	the	mainstream	education	system.	My	unsettled	education	years,	from	Kindergarten	to	Grade	12,	led	me	to	promise	myself	to	always	question	and	strive	to	change	mainstream		 10	education	norms.	I	continued	to	draw	on	those	early	experiences	and	my	personal	promise	while	undertaking	this	study.	I	hear	my	inner	voice	asking	myself	to	continue	being	present;	to	continue	dialoguing	with	deep	listening	for	what	truly	comes;	to	gratefully	respect	and	celebrate	my	interconnected	playful	spirit	despite	fears,	walls,	and	judgment;	to	value	freedom	with	responsibilities;	to	allow	myself	to	reveal	rhizomatic	relationships	and	connections	between	living	beings,	their	food,	and	their	surroundings.	My	experience	with	Windsor	House	over	the	last	few	years	prepared	me	for	this	moment.	This	is	my	own	voice.	I	wrote	it	while	reflecting	on	and	writing	about	this	study	with	Windsor	House	educators.	Certainly,	I	have	a	very	personal	connection	and	deep	interest	in	democratic	education	as	an	educator,	a	mother,	and	a	democratic	activist.	Despite	this	personal	connection,	I	continued	checking	myself	and	questioning	my	understanding	to	ensure	I	stayed	open	and	was	a	responsible	researcher.		Although	there	are	many	differences	between	democratic	schools	around	the	world,	I	suggest	that	a	few	similarities	could	typically	be	found	among	them.	One	characteristic	is	the	notion	of	open	dialogue	within	the	school	community,	which	includes	students,	parents	or	other	significant	adults,	and	educators/facilitators/staff	(preferred	by	many	over	the	term	teachers).	This	dialogue	is	outward	as	well	as	inward.	The	dialogue	is	a	crucial	part	within	complicated	conversations	in	which	exist	in	democratic	education.	As	a	former	educator	in	a	democratic	school	in	Israel,	I	came	to	this	study	curious	and	eager	to	explore	dialogue	in	democratic	education.	It	is	interesting	to	mention	that,	at	first,	I	found	my	visits	to	democratic	schools	to	be	somewhat	unfulfilling,	to	say	the	least.	It	was	before	I	joined	the	democratic	education	teachers’	program,	which	was	held	one	full	day,	once	a	week	for	an	academic	year.	This	program	was	part	of	a	4-year	bachelor	degree	in	creative	education.	This	democratic	education	teachers’	program,	located	in	the	first	democratic	school	in	Israel,	Hadera,	became	a	turning	point	for	me.	I	experienced	first	hand	how	it	feels	and	what	it	means	to	be	a	student	in	such	a	school.	There,	I	could	open	up	to	the	possibilities,	fears,	and	limitations	of	democratic	education.	Within	that	program,	I	encountered	the	beauty	and	difficulty	of	being	in	dialogue.	At	first,	when	I	experienced	discomfort	in	the		 11	democratic	school,	I	felt	confident	claiming	that	it	was	an	irresponsible	approach	to	education.	That	experience	has	enabled	me	to	remain	open	to	those	who	may	make	similar	claims	to	my	past	views	(from	20	years	prior)	and	who	are	open	to	engaging	in	complicated	conversations.	Through	my	experiences	as	a	democratic	educator	in	a	democratic	school	in	Israel	and	later	on	as	a	democratic	educator	in	North	America,	spanning	private	and	public	settings,	I	have	come	to	appreciate	all	that	dialogue	offers.		In	this	thesis,	I	study	the	notion	of	dialogue	through	five	thinkers	who	developed	broad	understandings	of	dialogue.	My	rationale	for	selecting	these	five	scholars	is	a	combination	of	what	aspects	of	dialogue	interest	them	as	well	as	the	time	and	place	they	were	writing	in,	which	offers	a	continual	context	for	recent	years	of	dialogue	studies.	I	am	aware	of	the	unequal	representation	in	my	choice	of	women	and	men	and	would	like	to	make	it	clear	that	it	does	not	represent	any	hidden	purpose	of	giving	more	voice	to	men.	These	five	thinkers	do	not	create	a	clear	theoretical	framework;	however,	they	do	play	an	important	role	in	creating	meaning	through	dialogue	and	in	determining	how	to	establish	a	nourishing	environment	for	dialogue,	which	are	ultimately	important	in	understanding	this	study.	Among	these	five	authors,	I	want	to	acknowledge	Biesta’s	main	influence	on	my	perspective,	understanding,	and	writing	about	dialogue	in	education	and	its	importance	in	democratic	education.	The	other	four	thinkers	are	added	to	address	specific	issues	through	dialogue.	These	issues,	which	will	be	discussed	in	depth	later	in	the	thesis,	include	concepts	such	as	Arendt’s	(1958)	ideas	of	the	need	of	action	in	order	to	begin	again,	with	her	notion	of	the	encounter;	Buber’s	(1996)	idea	of	the	openness	of	the	I–Thou,	with	his	notion	of	being	engaged	in	the	moment	without	judgment	and	interest	to	gain	or	receive	something	in	return;	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	concept	of	carnival,	which	enables	the	questioning	of	language	boundaries	and	limitations;	Bohm’s	(1985,	2004)	understanding	of	fragmentation	as	an	obstacle	for	dialogue	(thus,	dialogue	is	not	a	sum	of	interactions	between	participants,	but	a	holistic	process	of	relational	connections).	I,	therefore,	came	to	this	study	with	the	questions	of	what	does	dialogue	offer	within	democratic	education	and	how	does	it	differ	from	other	educational	systems?		Once	I	had	become	an	educator	in	the	mainstream	system,	it	was	difficult	for	me	to	articulate	and	reflect	on	the	meaning	of	democratic	education	for	myself	and	for	others		 12	who	asked	me	about	it.	Thus,	it	led	me	to	a	journey,	for	18	years	to	be	exact,	of	studying	democratic	education	on	practical,	artistic,	and	theoretical	levels.	In	this	process,	my	interest	became	clearer	to	me.	It	is	the	dialogue	in	democratic	education	that	fascinates	me	the	most—dialogue	as	a	liminal	space,	in	which	the	in-between	interconnected	space	is	invited,	and	as	an	uncontrolled	and	open-ended	space	of	the	in-between.	To	put	it	simply,	complicated	conversations	are	welcome	not	for	the	sake	of	knowing	the	answer	or	what	or	who	is	right	but	for	being	together	in	this	ongoing	exploration	of	old	and	new	ideas,	feelings,	and	issues.	Inviting	the	liminal	space	in	which	things	are	not	set	up	or	controlled,	the	space	in	which	listening	and	thinking	together	and	apart	could	exist.		Although	dialogue	is	not	recognized	as	one	of	the	core	principles	in	the	philosophy	of	many	democratic	schools	I	am	familiar	with,	it	exists	in	different	forms	without	being	named	as	such.	Thus,	in	coming	to	understand	democratic	education	at	Windsor	House	School,	this	study	was	received	by	the	Windsor	House	staff	in	a	similar	manner:	as	an	opportunity	to	reflect	upon	the	experiences	of	what	democratic	education	means	to	each	person	in	relation	to	their	peers.	During	the	informal	pre-study	conversations	I	found	that	despite	having	weekly	staff	meetings	and	daily	hallway	chats	almost	all	staff	expressed	their	desire	for	a	new	opportunity	and	a	different	way	of	being	together.	Many	welcomed	gatherings	that	encouraged	conversations	and	collaborative	cooking.	Several	veteran	participants	mentioned	that	several	years	back	they	used	to	spend	more	time	together	in	open-ended	gatherings	during	which	they	had	time	to	be	with	one	another	without	necessarily	attending	to	goals	and	specific	intentions.	As	this	study	unfolded,	I	realized	that	dialogue	is	a	form	of	encountering	plurality,	and	thus,	as	Arendt	(1958)	offers,	is	one	of	the	core	principles	of	democracy.	My	personal	interest	in	understanding	dialogue	among	staff	members	at	Windsor	House,	allowed	the	participants	and	me	to	explore	democratic	education	in	an	open-ended	approach.	As	an	educator,	I	both	practise	and	study	the	notion	of	dialogue,	and	I	have	done	so	as	a	nomadic	educator,	one	who	moves	countries,	uses	a	different	language	from	her	mother	tongue,	and	has	explored	different	cultures.	Being	a	nomadic	educator	showed	me	the	way	within	the	dialogue	challenge.	Immigration	brings	its	own	challenges	and	its	own	gifts.	In	my	experience,	being	an	immigrant	means	constantly	living	in	the	midst	of	translation.	At	the		 13	beginning	of	my	journey	as	a	new	immigrant	I	listened	to	all	languages,	spoken,	non-verbal,	as	well	as	to	my	personal	interpretations	based	on	the	cultures	and	norms	I	encountered	and	experienced	in	my	life.	The	process	of	creating	meaning	in	a	new	place	started	my	journey	of	exploring	dialogue.	At	times	I	got	lost	in	translation,	and	sometimes	I	had	new	insights	for	locals	thanks	to	my	ability	to	listen	as	openly	as	possible	as	well	as	to	share	a	new	perspective.	This	has	allowed	me	to	be	reborn	and	to	relearn	listening	and	collaborating.	Being	constantly	in	the	midst	of	translation	has	invited	me	to	dialogue	from	an	authentic	place,	listening	to	words	with	more	attention	and	respect.	At	times,	I	encounter	the	power	of	words	with	pauses	as	part	of	the	conversation.	As	my	grandma	Memeh	often	said,	“Put	the	knife	down	and	let	the	other	pick	it	up,”	as	if	to	say,	create	this	pause,	pay	attention,	invite	the	heart,	and	give	respect	to	the	moment	between	us	as	we	lay	the	ground	for	dialogue	to	grow.	However,	I	have	been	paying	attention	to	the	differences	in	my	listening	in	my	mother	tongue	in	comparison	to	my	listening	as	a	nomadic	immigrant	educator.	I	find	that	being	in	a	comfort	zone	in	terms	of	language	and	culture	requires	extra	effort	to	remain	open	to	active	careful	listening.	Thus,	I	am	writing	this	dissertation	as	a	granddaughter,	daughter,	sister,	partner,	mother,	friend,	artist,	and	a	democratic	educator.	I	was	born	and	raised	in	a	questionable	democratic	society,	called	Israel	by	many,	which	taught	me	that	living	democratically,	while	being	aware	of	my	privilege,	could	become	more	real	than	living	the	ideal.	The	ideal	of	democracy,	as	a	subjective	matter,	brings	questions	of	what	is	ideal	and	to	whom,	since	it	is	not	a	fixed	or	known	notion	to	all.	Thus,	the	question	that	should	be	followed	and	be	explored	in	this	context	is	what	is	the	ideal	and	how	does	it	differ	from	living	democratically?	In	a	way,	my	personal	experience	of	living	democratically	at	Windsor	House	went	hand	in	hand	with	my	personal	experience	and	understanding	of	ideal	of	democracy.	As	Bronwen,	a	staff	member,	claimed	(personal	communication,	February	2,	2019):	We	had	opportunities	as	students,	staff,	and	as	a	community	to	be	visible	and	engage	in	the	larger	world	and	navigate	that	but	also	share	the	vision	and	possibility	that	can	exist	in	lifelong	education	and	community	for	a	world	that	desperately	needs	experimentation	and	innovation	and	figuring	out	why	the	so-called	democracy	that	we	live	in	is	so	broken.		 14	Thus,	an	important	question	to	raise	in	this	context	is,	what	could	one	learn	in	exploring	the	notion	of	ideal	democracy	versus	the	case	of	lived	experience	in	democracy?	It	comes	from	my	own	personal	experience	as	a	citizen	in	Israel,	which	was	far	from	ideal.	The	term	ideal	democracy	encompasses	fundamental	human	rights	for	all,	gender	equality,	voting	equality,	citizens’	control	of	the	agenda,	plurality,	freedom	of	expression,	and	so	forth.	Thus,	the	experience	in	Windsor	House	encouraged	me	to	be	engaged	in	dialogue	about	democracy,	dialogue,	and	the	importance	of	plurality.		In	this	study	the	notion	of	living	democratically	is	central	and	is	taken	up	through	collaborative	cooking.	While	preparing	a	meal	together,	Windsor	House	educators	and	I	hoped	to	create	conditions	for	living	democratically:	we	accepted	notions	of	plurality	and,	in	particular,	supported	the	dialogic	process	and	its	need	of	an	ongoing	active	listening	that	exists	in	an	interruptive	reality	that	encourages	adaptations.				 15	Chapter	2:	The	Story	of	Windsor	House	Community	and	its	Extended	Democratic	Education	Family						Figure	2.	Windsor	House	Welcome	Sign.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.	 		 	“The	new	beginning	inherent	in	birth	can	make	itself	felt	in	the	world	only	because	the	newcomer	possesses	the	capacity	of	beginning	something	anew,	that	is,	of	acting”	(Hannah	Arendt,	1958,	p.	9)		 		 16	Will,	trust,	desire,	place,	Want	and	do	not	know	why	Believe	that	there	is	how,	With	desire	of	togetherness	Bodies	in	a	place	and	out	of	it	Dwelling	in	the	space	to	the	path	The	first	step	in	a	place	Being	afraid	to	be	there	together	It	could	be	surprising	Out	of	our	control	and	our	co/awareness	Want	and	do	not	know	why	Bodies	in	a	place	and	out	of	it	Being	afraid	to	be	there	together	Give	a	hand	and	start	Do	not	know	to	where		Will,	trust,	desire,	place,	With	desire	of	togetherness	It	could	fall	apart	Believe	that	there	is	how	And	do	not	know	why	Out	of	control	Out	of	co/awareness	Out	of	togetherness	Bodies	being	afraid	together	And	a	part		Will,	desire,	place,	trust,	Where	to	and	why?	Listen	to	the	body	and	to	the	bodies	around	Listen	to	the	will	and	to	the	fear	Inside.		 17	In	this	chapter,	I	intend	to	explore	notions	of	democratic	education	in	the	context	of	dialogue	and	collaboration,	as	this	topic	first	arose	during	my	pilot	study	and	later	resurfaced	during	the	study	itself.	The	chapter	begins	with	the	story	of	Windsor	House,	followed	by	a	description	of	a	day	at	the	school.	The	second	part	of	this	chapter	provides	an	overview	of	democratic	education,	its	common	practices,	and	its	social	premises.		Windsor	House	Democratic	education	could	be	introduced	in	many	different	ways	since	its	practices	are	varied.	My	intention	in	this	section	is	to	introduce	and	to	offer	some	insights	into	the	material	world	of	Windsor	House,	the	building	where	it	was	housed,	the	students,	the	staff,	the	school	community,	and	the	curriculum.	Before	I	do	so,	I	want	to	share	a	staff	member’s	statement	about	Windsor	House	demographics	in	a	personal	conversation	we	had	in	March	2019:		I	said	that	Windsor	House	is	a	relatively	accurate	representation	of	the	wider	city	and	culture	around	us,	except	for	the	fact	that	there	is	very	little	racial	diversity,	because	traditionally,	families	of	colour	haven’t	chosen	Windsor	House.	And	there	is	a	slight	skew	towards	a	radical	left	sort	of	hippie	population	that	is	inherently	feels	comfortable	with	free-schooling	before	having	any	exposure	to	it	or	actively	seeking	it	out.	…	but	Windsor	House,	[it]	also	has	a	slight	leaning	towards	some	marginalized	communities	that	feel	safer	in	Windsor	House,	like	the	community	of	transgender,	bisexual,	gay,	lesbian	families	and	parent	groups,	as	well	as	students	who	are	let’s	say	gender	non-conforming,	who	find	Windsor	House	to	be	a	safe	space.	(David)	To	add	to	David’s	description,	the	aspects	he	refers	to	in	terms	of	students	and	parents	are	relevant	to	educators/teachers/mentors	in	Windsor	House.	At	the	time	the	research	took	place,	there	was	little	racial	diversity	among	Windsor	House	staff	(i.e.,	most	staff	members	are	white)	and	several	educators/teachers/mentors	identified	themselves	as	LGBTQ.	Also,	in	terms	of	political	orientation,	most	staff	were	located	on	the	political	spectrum	toward	the	radical	left.	In	terms	of	socioeconomic	status,	the	majority	of	Windsor		 18	House	community	would	be	located	as	lower	or	middle	working	class.	As	in	any	community,	there	are	a	few	families	who	could	be	classified	as	falling	the	ends	of	the	spectrum.	Last,	the	dominant	spoken	language	among	Windsor	House	families	is	English,	with	few	exceptions	such	as	Spanish,	French,	and	Hebrew.		To	give	a	feel	for	daily	life	in	Windsor	House,	I	offer	the	following	description	as	a	general	introduction	to	the	school.	I	want	to	emphasize	that	this	short	description	was	written	by	me,	and	it	is	only	one	out	of	many	that	may	represent	one	day	for	an	individual	associated	with	the	school.		It	is	early	morning	in	East	Van.	Most	stores	are	not	yet	open	though	a	few	coffee	shops	are	open.	A	group	of	friends	from	Windsor	House	are	waiting	for	their	school	bus.	The	ride	takes	a	while	with	several	pick-up	stops	and	morning	traffic	to	North	Van.		The	radio	adds	sound	that	holds	space	for	everyone	to	wake	up	at	their	own	pace.	It	was	not	like	that	all	the	years	at	Windsor	House.	In	its	beginning,	Windsor	House	operated	only	with	a	few	families	and	there	were	no	school	buses	or	even	a	school	building.		At	first,	Windsor	House	was	founded	in	1971	by	Helen,	and	children	attended	school	in	her	own	house.	Helen	had	taught	in	mainstream	education	until	she	felt	that	her	daughter,	Meghan,	might	fare	better	in	a	different	environment.	Later	in	life,	that	daughter	called	Meghan,	became	a	staff	member	in	Windsor	House	and	currently	she	is	the	principal.		Back	then,	Windsor	House	was	more	of	an	extended	family	than	a	school.	Not	so	today,	as	there	are	almost	200	students	enrolled.		Back	to	the	morning	ride	to	North	Van	with	the	school	bus…	Students	arrive	at	Windsor	House	to	see	the	entrance	sign	that	says,		“WINDSOR	HOUSE	–	ROOM	TO	GROW	AND	BE	YOURSELF.”	There,	they	meet	several	staff	and	friends	who	arrived	moments	earlier	by	public	transit,	driving,	walking,	or	biking.		As	they	enter,	each	student	signs	in	on	the	clipboard	right	in	the	entranceway.			 19	Each	student	has	the	responsibility	to	sign	in	and	out	as	often	as	needed	during	the	day.		This	is	because,	at	Windsor	House,	children	are	free	to	wander	both	in	and	outdoors.		The	day	starts	without	a	particular	announcement	or	gathering.		It	may	be	important	to	mention	here	that	at	Windsor	House	there	are	no	bells.	There	are	also	no	tests	and	no	grades.	This	school	runs	differently,	with	many	choices,	proposals,	conversations,	meetings,	and	free	flow.	The	beginning	of	the	day	is	different	for	each	student,	as	it	is	based	on	personal	choices.	Several	students	start	their	day	on	one	of	the	sofas	around	the	building—small	talks	begin	with	morning	snacks;	others	go	the	library	to	grab	a	book;	others	go	to	the	Flying	Pig,	which	is	a	small	room	where	more	personal	conversations	take	place;	others	go	to	a	class	in	the	“The	Box”	for	‘classic	academics’;	others	go	the	lab	to	experiment	or	paint,	or	build	with	Lego,	or	to	work	on	a	project	they	are	working	on	for	a	while;	others	go	to	the	gym;	others	go	to	the	theater;	others	go	to	The	Cottage,	which	is	a	designated	area	for	younger	children	(it	is	important	to	mention	that	everyone	is	welcome	to	spend	some	time	with	younger	friends	or	play	a	board	game	or	dress-up	at	the	cottage);	others	go	to	the	open	field	and	to	the	creek	inside	the	forest;	others	go	to	the	kitchen,	which	is	called	by	many	the	Community	Room.	In	the	kitchen,	there	is	a	piano,	sofas,	recipe	books,	all	the	tools	and	appliances	one	would	ever	need	for	all	sorts	of	cooking	and	baking,	with	a	huge	table	and	many	chairs	around.	Twice	a	week	there	is	a	cooking	day,	when	many	gather	together	to	cook	with	one	staff	member	and	a	parent	volunteer.	Just	next	to	the	entrance	of	the	building,	there	is	a	room	on	the	right,	in	front	of	the	office,	which	is	called	The	BMR	(i.e.,	the	big	muscles	room).		In	the	BMR	children	take	lots	of	energy	out	with	running,	jumping,	and	pillow	fights.	There	is	always	an	adult	sponsor	in	the	room	in	case	someone	gets	injured.	In	The	Office	there	is	a	staff	member	who	manages	the	administrative	side	of	the	school.	At	Windsor	House	this	position	is	more	than	a	secretary—much	more	than	that	since	there	are	many	field	trips,	events,	special	activities,	visitors,	etc.		Next	to	The	Office	there	is	Megan’s	Office,	since	‘the	principal’s	office’	does	not	fit	the	spirit	of	the	school.	As	Principal,	Meghan	is	there	to	listen	and	to	help	with	conflicts		 20	and	other	needs.	She	is	there	to	support	the	community	and	is	not	viewed	as	an	authority	that	children	are	expected	to	be	afraid	of.	There	are	few	more	small	rooms	with	multiple	purposes.	There	is	one	with	lots	of	craft	materials	and	sewing	machines	and	another	room	with	technology	that	is	available	for	all	when	needed.		For	the	outdoors,	if	one	or	more	students	want	to	go	out,	they	require	only	two	things:	they	must	sign	out	and	they	must	have	a	sponsor	(i.e.,	a	staff	member	with	them).		Outside	the	building,	there	is	a	community	garden	and	a	small	friendly	wooden	playground.		Next	to	the	parking	lot,	there	is	a	huge	open	field	where	children	love	running	and	playing.		This	description	so	far	simply	gives	the	feel	of	the	school.		However,	the	question	that	many	visitors	are	interested	about	is	how	all	this	works.		It	is	important	to	clarify	that	in	Windsor	House	children	do	not	have	to	attend	classes.	They	choose	to	join	or	not	to	join	classes,	which	are	offered	on	regular	basis.		In	order	to	stay	updated,	there	is	a	huge	board	with	all	school	offerings.	Children	who	choose	to	attend	a	class	need	to	independently	ensure	they	arrive	on	time	at	the	right	place	for	that	class.		One	of	the	only	required	activities	is	the	bi-weekly	school	council.	There	all	students,	staff,	and	community	members	gather	to	propose	new	ideas	or	to	suggest	updates	for	existing	rules	and	resolutions.	Each	person	at	the	school	council	has	an	equal	vote,	Kindergarteners	and	educators	alike.	At	Windsor	House,	nothing	is	written	in	stone;	all	resolutions	are	replaceable	if	the	community	agrees	that	the	change	needed.		It	is	also	important	to	note	that	Windsor	House	is	a	parent	participation	school.		This	means	that	parents	take	an	important	role	in	the	success	of	the	school.		Parents	are	expected	to	attend	mandatory	Parent	Advisory	Council	meetings	throughout	the	year.		They	are	also	invited	to	volunteer	several	times	during	the	year	at	work-parties,	that	is,	cleaning	and	upgrading	work	for	the	school	or	to	give	a	hand	in	Windsor	house		 21	school’s	theater	shows	with	stage	decoration	and	creation	of	costumes.	Another	way	is	to	help	with	community	events	such	as	Winter	Faire,	potlucks,	organize	talks	for	parents,	give	workshops	at	school,	sponsor	field	trips,	and	many	more	options.		Parents	also	have	other	options	to	make	connections	within	the	community	besides	drop	off	and	pick	up	times,	as	such	as,	the	‘Tea	with	Helen’	every	Friday	morning.	This	tea	is	a	gathering	of	parents	to	chat	about	educational	and	parental	questions	that	come	up	while	raising	children	in	a	democratic	school	and	beyond.		Like	their	children,	the	parents	at	Windsor	House	have	many	options	to	choose	from	if	they	wish.	For	example	there	is	a	weekly	option	to	join	the	Coywolves	and	Forest	School.	Both	are	outdoor	programs	with	walks,	explorations,	stories,	and	games.	Other	options	include	volunteering	at	social	studies	classes;	theater;	academics	such	as	math	and	English;	wood	workshops;	history;	and	philosophy.	Many	times	the	classes	offered	do	not	cover	one	single	subject	but	are	instead	several	combined	together,	since	there	is	no	reason	to	create	this	division.	The	school	meets	the	requirements	of	the	mainstream	curriculum	in	its	own	unique	ways.	This	is	similar	to	Pinar’s	(1994)	concept	of	curriculum	as	currere,	which	is	a	lived	curriculum.	As	Pinar	(1994)	explains,		It	is	regressive-progressive-analytical-synthetic.	It	is,	therefore,	temporal	and	conceptual	in	nature,	and	it	aims	for	the	cultivation	of	a	developmental	point	of	view	that	hints	at	the	transtemporal	and	transconceptual.	From	another	perspective,	the	method	is	the	self-conscious	conceptualization	of	the	temporal,	and	from	another,	it	is	the	viewing	of	what	is	conceptualized	through	time.	So	it	is	that	we	hope	to	explore	the	complex	relation	between	the	temporal	and	conceptual.	In	doing	so	we	might	disclose	their	relation	to	the	Self	and	its	evolution	and	education.		At	Windsor	House,	students	and	staff	examine	the	past	and	future	possibilities	while	beginning	to	synthesize	them	into	a	biographical	present.	For	instance,	several	times	a	year	there	are	simulation	games,	or	sim	games,	in	which	children	and	staff	study	history,	geography,	economics,	drama,	social	skills,	language	arts,	and	much	more.	They	play	a	different	time	in	history	with	all	the	requirements	of		 22	that	time.	Each	of	them	is	invited	to	bring	personal	past	experiences	into	the	playing/studying	as	well	as	future	imaginations.	Sometimes	thirty	children	take	part	in	the	sim	games,	at	times	including	most	of	the	school.	The	sim	game	is	an	example	for	the	multi-age	grouping.	In	the	city	of	the	sim	game	one	could	find	children	from	the	cottage	through	the	high	school	children.	Another	different	rather	special	support	children	have	at	Windsor	House	is	the	personal	advisor	for	each	child.	Each	child	chooses	one	staff	member	to	be	her/his/their	advisor.	The	advisor	is	there	to	support	the	child’s	journey	in	the	school	in	all	aspects	(e.g.	emotional,	social,	and	academic).	In	addition	to	daily	life	encounters,	the	advisor	meets	the	child	and	parent’s	several	times	a	year	to	set	goals	and	have	conversations	about	any	issues	that	arise	for	the	student	or	for	others	in	relation	to	the	student.	In	relation	to	sim	games,	at	Windsor	House	there	are	several	theater	productions	during	a	school	year.	Those	are	picked	or	written	by	students,	as	well	as,	directed,	played,	staged,	and	designed	by	students	of	all	ages.	It	is	the	most	multi-aged	lived	experience	in	Windsor	House.		Also,	in	support	of	students,	there	is	the	JC,	which	is	the	Justice	Committee.	Issues	are	passed	on	to	the	JC	when	situations	in	which	students	and	staff	cannot	reach	a	resolution	to	a	conflict	or	disagreement.	To	bring	an	issue	to	the	JC,	any	community	member	(student,	staff,	or	parent)	writes	a	complaint	and	places	it	in	the	JC	box.	All	community	members	involved	are	invited	to	a	meeting	to	discuss	the	issue	at	hand.	The	JC	is	run	by	students	and	a	staff	member	and	students	can	volunteer	to	be	part	of	JC.	I	originally	wrote	this	story	about	Windsor	House	as	I	began	my	study.	However,	the	school	changed	in	the	summer	of	2016,	when	I	was	no	longer	onsite	conducting	this	study	but	was	in	the	writing	phase.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	mention	that	I	did	not	revise	the	story	after	having	completed	the	study	and	after	the	school	transitioned	to	being	multi-campus.	Following	that	summer,	the	school	community	had	to	move	out	of	their	North	Vancouver	location	to	an	unknown	future.	The	big	move	out	of	the	school	brought	many	changes	that	are	not	discussed	in	this	study.		 23	On	September	2016,	Windsor	House	started	a	new	journey	in	a	multi-campus	format.	This	change	happened	because	School	District	44	(North	Vancouver)	was	no	longer	able	to	lease	the	school	building,	as	it	was	slated	to	be	demolished.	In	practice,	it	means	that	on	any	given	day	there	are	several	locations	students	could	go	to.	All	sign	ups	happen	in	advance	online.	As	a	result,	most	communication	has	moved	to	a	website	that	only	community	members	can	access.	In	the	old	building	(where	this	study	took	place),	there	were	opportunities	for	more	multi-age	offerings	in	one	building	and	it	has	been	a	challenge	to	not	have	access	to	the	whole	staff	together	in	the	new,	multi-campus	setting,	and	to	build	relationships	that	hold	a	collective	space.	A	special	flow	was	possible	in	the	old	form	of	the	school,	in	which	everyone	was	at	the	same	location,	since	changes	and	adaptations	with	and	among	educators	and	students	could	happen	on	the	spot.	This	form	included	more	diverse	unplanned	interactions,	personal	and	democratic	practices,	and	more	pluralistic	experiences.	However,	it	is	important	to	mention	that	with	the	current	format	of	the	school	there	are	many	new	opportunities.	In	the	multi-campus	setting,	the	staff	have	more	of	an	opportunity	to	unpack	what	each	other	really	have	to	contribute	if	they	were	working	together.	This	format	also	offers	opportunities	to	recognize	the	deep	differences	that	were	there	all	along	and	only	came	out	in	the	new	situation	of	separation.	In	the	multi-campus	setting,	students	can	sign	up	for	different	locations	or	spaces,	such	as	days	at	the	farm,	a	maker	space,	and	the	theater	programs	that	runs	in	a	real	theater.	The	new	format	represents	the	ongoing	interruptions	and	the	need	for	adaptations,	which	will	be	explored	in	depth	later	on	in	this	thesis.	Now,	during	its	third	school	year	in	multi-campus	setting,	the	school	community	continues	to	search	for	a	school	building	that	can	accommodate	all	students	and	staff.		Democratic	Education	Diverse	literature	addresses	the	topic	of	democratic	education.	In	this	thesis,	I	refer	to	democratic	education	and	allude	to	the	notion	of	democracy	in	terms	of	individual	rights,	liberty,	happiness,	duties,	self-determination,	and	freedom	in	relation	to	its	community.	Democratic	education	is	governed	by	the	people	for	the	people	in	protection	of	people’s	rights	and	needs,	in	which	all	people	have	a	voice.	As	Sadofsky	(2019)	notes,	and	many	do	not	grasp	as	newcomers,			 24	Sudbury	schools	are	governed	democratically,	and	that	is	indeed	wicked	cool,	but	the	way	kids	see	it	is	not	so	abstract.	They	aren’t	thinking	all	the	time	about	the	way	a	democracy	works,	and	yet	what	they	see	is	that	they	are	in	control	of	what	happens	to	them,	and	to	the	atmosphere	of	their	community.	That	is	a	powerfully	maturing	concept.	These	are	the	enormous	life	lessons	…	We	feel	that	Sudbury	schools	offer	students	an	education	that	is	grounded	in	empowerment,	growing	competence,	and	the	confidence	gained	from	being	able	to	hold	your	own	with	a	group	of	people	in	a	high-powered	environment.	And	this	kind	of	education	is	more	likely	to	afford	the	flexibility	the	world	demands	from	self-actualized	21st	century	adults.	(para.	4–8)		Sadofsky	(2019)	refers	to	Sudbury,	which	is	a	democratic	school,	as	a	democratic	lived	experience,	where	children	above	all	are	people,	not	merely	learners.	As	such,	democracy	is	not	known	as	definite	specific	notion.	This	concept	is	based	on	values	such	as	empowerment,	growing	competence,	and	having	a	flexible	mindset.	To	continue	Sadofsky’s	understanding	of	the	position	of	kids/people/students	in	democratic	education,	Biesta	(2009a)	emphasizes	the	difference	between	the	terms	learner,	student,	and	speaker	within	education	versus	emancipatory	education.	Biesta	(2009a)	notes	that	the	notion	of	emancipatory	education	starts	from	the	assumption	that	student	is	a	speaker	who	has	the	ability,	right,	and	something	to	share	and	is	not	perceived	as	a	learner,	who	must	lack	something	that	is	needed	to	be	learnt.	Thus,	in	order	to	get	rid	of	the	circle	of	powerlessness	of	a	learner	or	a	student,	the	starting	assumption	should	be	equality,	in	which	students	are	viewed	as	speakers	from	the	beginning	of	the	interaction.	Much	has	been	written	about	people’s	personal	journeys	and	experiences,	with	several	overarching	academic	articles	and	books	being	published	(e.g.,	Hern,	2003;	Lucas,	2011;	Mercogliano,	2007).	Therefore,	it	is	important	first	to	provide	background	on	this	type	of	education	in	a	historic,	educational,	and	cultural	context.	To	begin,	in	the	early	1920s,	there	were	very	few	innovative	schools,	and	those	that	existed	were	independent	and	stood	as	localized	innovations.	Two	notable	examples	were	the	Korczak	Orphanage,	named	Home	for	Orphans	(located	in	Poland	from	1912–1942),	and	Summerhill	school		 25	(located	in	England	from	1921–present).	The	Home	for	Orphanage	was	established	in	Warsaw	for	Jewish	children	and	later,	during	the	Nazi	occupation	of	Poland,	relocated	inside	the	Warsaw	Ghetto.	This	home	ran	in	much	the	same	way	as	the	democratic	schools	of	today	do;	that	is,	children	and	adults	had	responsibilities,	rights,	and	experienced	the	sense	of	freedom	(Medvedeva-Nathoo,	2012).	Korczak	valued	children	as	human	beings	who	deserve	respect.	He	argued	that	one	of	the	core	principles	of	social	justice,	which	became	an	important	axiom	in	democratic	education,	is	the	right	of	children	to	be	respected	(Medvedeva-Nathoo,	2012).	Korczak	established	the	Home	for	Orphanage	as	democratic	out	of	necessity,	knowing	the	children’s	parents	were	not	able	to	be	there	to	protect	them	and	voice	their	needs	and	wishes.	Korczak’s	place	served	as	home,	school,	and	extended	family	for	all.	It	had	a	parliament,	justice	system,	and	responsibilities	that	applied	to	individuals	of	all	ages,	including	Korczak	himself.	Many	educators	in	the	global	democratic	education	community	still	refer	to	Korczak’s	place	as	the	beginning	of	democratic	education.	Alongside,	there	was	another	alternative	school	in	England,	named	Summerhill.	This	democratic	school,	also	known	as	a	free	school,	is	a	boarding	school	and	community	of	approximately	100	people.	It	includes	children	aged	between	5	and	17	and	adults.	As	is	stated	on	the	school	website:	The	important	freedom	at	Summerhill	is	the	right	to	play.	All	lessons	are	optional.	There	is	no	pressure	to	conform	to	adult	ideas	of	growing	up,	though	the	community	itself	has	expectations	of	reasonable	conduct	from	all	individuals.	Bullying,	vandalism	or	other	anti-social	behaviour	is	dealt	with	on-the-spot	by	specially	elected	ombudsmen,	or	can	be	brought	to	the	whole	community	in	its	regular	meetings.	(Summerhill,	n.d.,	para.	14)	Although	these	schools	are	similar	to	current	democratic	schools,	it	is	important	to	note	that	both	institutions,	Korczak	and	Summerhill,	did	not	have	the	parent	component	as	an	integral	part	of	daily	life.	In	the	democratic	schools	that	have	followed,	parents	play	an	important	role	in	the	school	community.	In	the	1960s,	alternative	schools	began	to	extend	to	the	United	States	and	England.	In	the	beginning	they	were	not	classified	as	democratic	schools	but	had	different	names	such	as	Sudbury	Valley	School,	free	schools,	open	schools,	and	alternative	schools.	It	was	only	in	the	late	1980s	when	a	school	was	first	named	a		 26	democratic	school—the	Democratic	School	of	Hadera,	Israel—coined	by	Yaacov	Hecht.	As	is	mentioned	on	the	school	website,	“The	Democratic	School	of	Hadera	was	established	in	1987	by	a	group	of	parents	and	young	educators”	(Democratic	School	of	Hadera,	n.d.-a.,	para.	1)	who	wished	to	create	together	a	school	that	would	give	its	pupils	“freedom	of	choice	in	learning	and	other	activities	while	experiencing	daily	life	in	a	democratic	framework”	(Democratic	School	of	Hadera,	n.d.-a,	para.	1).	Today,	32	years	after	it	was	founded,	the	school	belongs	to	the	Israeli	Ministry	of	Education	System,	functioning	as	a	non-regional	school	with	approximately	400	students	from	4	to	18	years	of	age	(Democratic	School	of	Hadera,	n.d.-a).	Although	there	is	no	local	or	global	desire	among	democratic	education	communities	to	create	any	sort	of	definition	or	a	vision	statement	of	democratic	education,	I	find	the	following	statement	from	the	Democratic	School	of	Hadera’s	(n.d.-b)	website	suitable	to	many	democratic	schools	around	the	globe:	The	school	views	its	students	as	complete	human	beings	and	allows	them	to	focus,	from	a	young	age,	on	what	is	important	to	all	human	beings—acquiring	self-knowledge,	setting	goals,	and	acquiring	the	requisite	skills	to	realize	them.	It	is	freedom	of	choice	that	enables	the	students	to	experience	a	deep	sense	of	autonomy,	sovereignty,	and	self-worth,	and	these	intensify	the	child’s	inner	strengths.	Each	one	of	us	has	different	skills	and	talents,	types	of	intelligence,	learning	pace	or	motivation.	We	try	to	encourage	each	and	every	student	to	fully	realize	her	or	his	potential	while	taking	individual	desires	and	talents	into	account.	The	fundamental	belief	that	every	child	can	excel	at	something	helps	us	to	accompany	each	one	on	a	journey	of	self-discovery	while	trying,	at	the	same	time,	to	ascertain	the	child’s	talents	and	aspirations.	(para.	5)	Following	in	the	footsteps	of	the	Hadera	democratic	school,	during	the	1990s,	the	term	democratic	school	became	more	popular	and	many	schools	adopted	this	name	(Hecht,	2010;	R.	Miller,	2007).	The	first	wave	of	democratic	schools	were	perceived	as	problematic	and	were	criticized	by	two	opposing	sides	of	the	political	spectrum	in	the	United	States—the	republicans	(conservatives)	as	well	as	by	social	democrats	(progressives)—for	not		 27	supporting	democratic	society	in	the	way	those	criticizing	the	schools	believed	it	should	be	done	(R.	Miller,	2007).	The	conservatives	believe	in	a	controlled	society	in	which	children	should	be	schooled	and	should	not	take	part	fully	in	participatory	democracy,	especially	in	schools.	As	R.	Miller	(2007)	clarifies:	A	defining	feature	of	conservative	political	and	social	thought	is	its	mistrust	of	pure	democracy.…	Untamed	human	impulses	are	not	trusted.	If	children	are	not	schooled	in	the	rules	of	capitalism,	republican	citizenship,	and	morality,	there	would	be	anarchy,	levelling	(an	attack	on	private	property),	and	social	upheaval.	(para.	7)	On	the	other	hand,	for	the	progressives,	the	critique	was	based	upon	a	belief	in	public	education,	as	opposed	to	child-centred	approaches,	which	may	lead	to	competitive	individualism.	Dewey	(1938),	for	example,	criticizes	the	child-centred	approach	in	Experience	and	Education.	This	first	wave	of	democratic	schools	connected	with	Dewey’s	opinion	in	different	ways	and	included	approximately	1,000	schools	across	the	United	States	as	well	as	some	in	Europe.	Back	then	they	were	not	called	democratic	schools.	Many	of	those	schools	did	not	survive	public	pressure	from	different	groups	in	the	society.	However,	in	the	early	1990s,	a	new	blossoming	of	democratic	schools	gradually	took	place.	In	1993,	the	first	International	Democratic	Education	Conference	(IDEC)	was	held,	which	was	initially	called	the	Hadera	Conference	(Hecht,	2010).	This	conference	took	place	in	Israel	with	40	participants	and	marked	the	beginning	of	a	global	democratic	education	community	(Hecht,	2010).	From	then	until	today,	democratic	education	has	become	a	global	phenomenon	that	offers	an	alternative	for	mainstream	education.	IDEC	gathers	educators	every	year	on	a	different	continent,	with	participants	from	hundreds	of	schools	around	the	world	who	locate	themselves	within	the	wide	spectrum	of	democratic	education.	The	24th	IDEC	took	place	in	April	2017	in	Israel	and	included	approximately	3,000	educators	from	30	countries	worldwide	(Alternative	Education	Resource	Organization,	2017).	On	the	subject	of	philosophy	of	democratic	schools,	the	IDEC	2017	website	states,	Every	one	of	us	is	unique	and	special	and	carries	with	him/her	an	irreplaceable	gift	to	the	world.	To	sustain	a	thriving	and	peaceful	human	society	we	must	aspire	to	have		 28	each	and	every	one	of	us	find	and	express	his/her	uniqueness.	The	premise	is	that	a	person	who	is	in	a	meaningful	quest	to	shape	his/her	identity	and	feels	supported	in	this	quest	and	that	his/her	inner-self	is	appreciated	would	be	able	to	appreciate	the	uniqueness	of	those	around	him/her	and	to	support	them	in	expressing	it.	The	democratic	education	is	aimed	at	enabling	the	individual	and	the	group	to	explore,	develop,	and	express	their	uniqueness.	The	best	“user	manual”	for	realizing	these	goals	is	the	Bill	of	Human	Rights.	The	Freedom	of	Thought	and	Expression;	The	Right	to	Free	Movement;	The	Right	to	Equality	and	Recognition	…	are	all	crucial	for	nurturing	and	developing	an	independent,	creative,	and	socially-aware	human	being.		(IDEC,	2017,	“The	Philosophy,”	para.	1–3)	The	democratic	school	that	was	the	focus	of	this	study,	Windsor	House,	takes	an	active	role	in	this	international	community	and	hosted	the	16th	IDEC	in	2008.	I	attended	this	conference,	and	it	gave	me	my	first	opportunity	to	get	to	know	this	school	community	on	a	more	personal	level.	“At	the	moment	there	are	about	1000	schools	around	the	world	which	call	themselves	democratic	schools”	(European	Democratic	Education	Community	Greece,	n.d.,	para.	1).	Those	can	be	found	in	36	countries	(Alternative	Education	Resource	Organization,	n.d.),	including	Ukraine,	Israel,	Poland,	South	Korea,	Brazil,	Japan,	Holland,	and	the	USA,	just	to	name	few.	In	most	countries,	these	schools	are	considered	sites	of	alternative	education	and	do	not	receive	public	funding.	In	that	respect,	Windsor	House	is	different	from	most	democratic	schools,	as	it	has	been	a	public	school	for	the	last	48	years.	This	is	unique	worldwide.	The	only	other	known	instance	of	this	occurring	is	in	Israel,	where,	after	years	of	negotiations	between	the	Israeli	Ministry	of	Education	and	representatives	of	democratic	schools,	an	agreement	was	reached	for	some	democratic	schools	(many,	but	not	all)	to	become	public	schools	(Scope,	2017).	This	recent	agreement	may	create	a	new	wave	within	the	democratic	school	community	in	Israel	as	these	schools	become	available	to	all,	not	only	for	parents	who	could	pay	high	monthly	tuition	fees.	Over	the	last	few	years,	the	international	democratic	education	community	has	begun	to	collaborate	and	become	a	network	of	schools	that	are	learning	and	sharing	their	practices	and	understandings	of	democratic	education	beyond	their	schools,	that	is,	with	the	public	at	large.	Different	organizations	are	coming	together	at	local	conferences	as		 29	result	of	a	need	expressed	on	the	ground.	For	instance,	in	Europe	in	2006,	members	of	the	democratic	education	community	put	forward	the	idea	of	having	a	European	democratic	education	conference.	By	2008,	the	first	European	Democratic	Education	Conference	was	hosted	in	Germany,	and	it	continues	to	run	once	a	year	(European	Democratic	Education	Conference,	n.d.).	Another	institute	started	in	the	United	States	of	America	called	the	Institute	for	Democratic	Education	in	America.	In	2003,	the	founders	of	this	institute	started	a	“national	organization	that	could	catalyze	meaningful	educational	change	based	on	democratic	values	and	human	rights”	(Institute	for	Democratic	Education	in	America,	n.d.,	para.	1).	They	wished	to	galvanize	meaningful	educational	change.	[They	conceived	of]	an	organization	that	would	redefine	democratic	education	and	direct	its	message	outward,	to	the	general	public.	A	core	belief	was	that	the	best	way	to	effect	widespread	change	was	to	collaborate	with	students,	educators,	and	policymakers	in	a	variety	of	settings.	They	also	believed	in	the	need	to	bridge	conversations	around	social	justice,	student	voice,	and	sustainability.	(Institute	for	Democratic	Education	in	America,	n.d.,	para.	3)	On	the	other	side	of	the	globe,	Australia,	there	is	another	growing	community	of	democratic	education.	In	2001,	the	first	Australasian	Democratic	Education	Community	conference	was	hosted	in	Currambena,	Sydney,	Australia,	and	it	continues	to	run	annually	(Australasian	Democratic	Education	Community,	n.d.).	The	Australasian	Democratic	Education	Community	state	on	their	2018	conference	website:		We	are	committed	to	providing	a	caring,	harmonious	environment	where	the	academic,	physical,	social,	emotional	and	creative	development	of	each	individual	student	is	attained	to	their	maximum	potential.	This	is	achieved	through	small,	multi-age	settings,	with	a	high	teacher	to	student	ratio,	where	teachers,	parents	and	the	community	work	together	to	nurture	positive	self-esteem	and	encourage	all	students	to	become	responsible	and	motivated.	(Pine	Community	School,	n.d.,	para.	4)		 30	Another	growing	democratic	education	community	that	was	less	known	and	in	the	last	few	years	reached	out	actively	to	the	IDEC	community	is	located	in	South	Korea.	As	Jerry	Mintz	(n.d.)	wrote	following	his	attendance	in	IDEC	22nd	in	Korea:	There	are	an	estimated	200–300	democratic	schools	in	Korea,	but	most	of	them	are	considered	illegal	and	are	not	registered.	The	minority	of	schools	that	are	registered	and	approved	have	run	into	problems	with	the	education	bureaucracy	trying	to	control	and	change	them.	Now	the	government	wants	them	all	to	register,	but	with	no	assurance	that	they	will	be	able	to	continue	being	freedom-based	democratic	schools.	(para.	3)	On	a	different	scale,	another	innovative	organization	emerged	from	the	democratic	education	movement	called	Education	Cities.	This	organization	was	founded	in	2010	in	Israel	and	is	currently	spreading	across	different	locations	in	the	world	(hundrEd,	n.d.).	As	stated	on	the	hundrED	(n.d.)	website,	the	Education	Cities	mission	is	to	“develop	the	art	of	collaboration”	(para.	1),	that	is,	turning	the	city	into	one	big	school	by	fostering	collaboration	between	children,	adults,	schools,	and	city	institutions.	In	relation	to	democratic	education,	Education	Cities	(n.d.)	has	set	the	following	mission:		Each	and	every	one	of	us,	children	and	adults	alike,	is	special	and	brings	to	this	world	a	unique	talent.	With	that	in	mind,	Education	Cities	defines	three	essential	components	for	a	healthy	and	prosperous	society:	1.	 Me	–	Finding	the	individual’s	uniqueness	and	ways	to	express	it.	2.	 You	–	Acknowledging	the	other’s	uniqueness	and	the	importance	of	expressing	it.	3.	 Us	–	The	art	of	collaboration.	A	network	of	individuals	who	find	their	uniqueness	and	express	it,	concurrently	with	a	shared	creative	work.	(Our	Worldview	section,	para.	1–2)	Being	a	member	of	this	global	democratic	education	community	for	many	years	has	allowed	me	to	observe	an	interesting	shift	in	which	schools	become	open	to	other	communities	of	democratic	schools	and	at	times	collaborate	with	mainstream	schools.	One	of	the	reasons	for	this	shift	may	be	the	fact	that,	for	a	long	time,	democratic	education	was	under	attack	by	public	forces	and	functioned	from	a	defensive	disposition.	This	shift	can	be	seen	in	Windsor	House’s	philosophy,	which	is	not	based	on	the	beliefs	or	practices	of	one		 31	person	or	a	group,	but	rather	draws	on	a	number	of	educational	philosophies	from	all	around	the	world,	as	well	as	community	members	and	current	educational	research	in	the	alternative	education	global	community.	As	the	Windsor	House	School	(n.d.)	website	notes,	“The	following	guiding	principles	have	emerged	as	critical	to	the	success	of	our	young	people:	profound	respect,	self-determination,	democratic	governance,	multi-age	grouping,	parent	participation,	freedom	with	responsibility,	and	accountability”	(Core	Principles	section,	para.	1–2).	These	guiding	core	principles	had	already	been	brought	to	my	attention	in	various	conversations	with	Yaacov	Hecht	(The	founder	of	Hadera	Democratic	School,	Israel),	Helen	Hughes	(the	founder	of	Windsor	House),	and	Meghan	Carrico	(The	current	Principal	of	Windsor	House	and	daughter	of	Helen	Hughes).	Hecht	(2010)	discusses	profound	respect	towards	self-determination	and	education	as	a	basic	right,	which	allows	people	to	follow	and	explore	their	own	strengths.	This,	Hecht	argues,	enables	individuals	to	feel	and	be	a	valuable	part	of	the	community.	Hughes	(as	cited	in	Claxton,	2011)	connects	self-determined	education	to	personal	happiness	and	fulfillment	in	the	world.	Similarly,	Carrico	(as	cited	in	Claxton,	2011)	emphasizes	the	multi-age	groupings	in	the	school,	which	enable	natural	mentorship	and	modelling	within	the	community	instead	of	age	segregation.	In	this	way,	school	is	part	of	life	and	is	not	separated	in	artificial	ways.	Taking	all	those	elements	into	consideration,	in	this	study,	the	participants	and	I	explored	meaning	of	democratic	education	together	and	apart.	Democratic	education	holds	many	premises	within	democratic	and	non-democratic	societies.	One	premise	that	is	explored	in	depth	in	this	study	is	dialogue	that	can	be	found	in	different	forms	in	all	democratic	educational	settings.	It	is	important	to	be	reminded	that	the	notion	of	dialogue	has	been	studied	for	many	decades	and	authorizes	students’	perspectives	about	the	meaning	of	education	(Cook-Sather,	2002).	However,	questions	of	where,	with	whom,	what,	and	how	this	dialogue	can	exist	remain	revolutionary	for	many.	On	the	contrary,	in	democratic	education,	these	questions	form	pupils’	lived	experiences.	Within	the	democratic	education	community’s	I	have	encountered	around	the	world,	dialogue	is	perceived	as	hospitality	even	though	it	is	not	named	as	such.	The	notion	of	hospitality	will	be	discussed	in	depth	throughout	this	thesis	in	its	praxis	within	democratic	education.	However,	it	is	important	to	mention	here	that	the	use	of	this	term	in	this	context		 32	refers	to	Derrida’s	(2000)	view	of	hospitality,	which	means	being	and	remaining	open	to	all	by	inviting	the	self	into	a	mutual	dialogue	with	others.		Cook-Sather’s	(2002)	questions	are	crucial	for	raising	awareness	and	in	creating	bridges	between	and	among	teachers,	administrators,	policymakers,	and	community	members	as	they	engage	in	dialogue	within	public	education.	As	Cook-Sather	(2002)	adds:		Where	in	the	classroom?	Where	in	the	school	day?	Where	in	the	administrative	structure?	Where	at	the	school	board	meetings?	Where	in	district,	state,	and	national	forums?	…	with	whom	do	I	speak	about	how	education	is	working	and	how	it	might	need	to	change?	Where	does	the	impetus	for	changing	a	curriculum	or	a	form	of	interaction	in	school	come	from,	and	how	can	students	be	more	central	to	that	process?	What	are	some	important	barriers	to	pursuing	this	change	in	attitude	and	practice	and	how	can	we	address	them?	How	might	our	school’s	or	system’s	review	and	reward	structures	be	revised	so	that	students	perspectives	are	not	only	an	integral	part	of	the	feedback	elicited	but	also	a	legitimate	source	upon	which	to	draw	in	conceptualizing	revisions	of	policy	and	practice?	(p.	23)	Keeping	those	questions	actively	part	of	the	education	conversation	may	plant	seeds	for	raising	a	new	educational	consciousness.	A	proponent	of	holistic,	democratic,	and	alternative	education,	R.	Miller	(2007),	suggests	the	following:	We	often	believe	that	cultural	change	is	brought	about	by	leaders	or	prophets	who	somehow	inspire	large	numbers	of	people.	But	I	tend	to	think	that	culture	has	a	life	of	its	own,	in	our	collective	unconscious,	and	that	it	follows	the	promptings	of	whatever	zeitgeist	(metaphorical	or	perhaps	literal	"spirit	of	the	times")	is	active	within	that	mysterious	realm.	Leaders	give	voice	to	that	spirit	but	don't	personally	initiate	it.	Educational	critics	over	the	past	two	centuries	have	so	far	failed	to	transform	the	system	in	meaningful	ways,	because	the	prevailing	spirit	of	modern	culture	has	not	yet	been	receptive	to	their	alternative	views.	I	have	some	hope	that	this	is	beginning	to	change	now,	as	our	civilization	shows	signs	of	decline	and	eventual	collapse.	(R.	Miller,	personal	communication,	November	27,	2017)			 33	Chapter	3:	Assembling	Dialogue	and	Artistic	Socially	Engaged	Collaboration					Figure	3.	Tabbouleh	being.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.				“The	struggles	to	establish	more	democratic	education	pedagogies	have	a	long	history	in	the	politics	of	mainstream	education,	in	parallel	with	the	struggle	to	establish	democracy	itself	in	the	greater	polity.”		(Adams	&	Owens,	2016,	p.	2)				 		 34	The	garden	waits	for	the	artistic,	socially	engaged	fairy	to	return.	The	fairy	of	goodness,	hope,	and	openness.	The	one	who	fertilizes	Mother	Earth	with	collaboration.	The	one	who	perceives	seeds	as	a	joyful	abundances	and	celebrates	differences.	The	one	who	listens	through	words	with	curiosity.	The	one	who	understands	the	importance	of	the	unfinishedness.	The	one	who	is	not	afraid	to	experience	difficulty	by	staying	in	the	messy	middle	ground.	The	one	who	lives	the	carnival	spirit	because	it	is	possible.	The	one	who	offers	a	hand	for	those	lost	in	the	maze	of	dialogue.	The	one	who	keeps	asking,	“What	does	it	mean	to	collaborate	artistically	and	dialogically?”	The	one	who	knows	how	to	hold	space	for	resistance	and	desires.	The	one	who	relates	to	the	world	with	open	wings	as	I–Thou.	The	one	who	exists	in	peace	with	temporality.	The	one	who	the	garden	waits	for	every	spring.	The	fairy	of	goodness,	hope,	and	openness.	In	this	chapter,	I	provide	a	purposefully	selected	review	of	the	notion	of	dialogue	through	five	different	thinkers.	With	that	said,	one	supports	and	inspires	this	study	more	than	others—Gert	Biesta	(2006,	2009a,	2015b,	2018).	Biesta’s	(2006,	2012a,	2015b)	understanding	of	dialogue	as	overcoming	resistance	and	frustrations,	while	existing	in	the	world	and	meeting	reality,	frames	much	of	this	study.	This	involves	remaining	in	the	middle	ground	and	feeling	that	we	are	not	alone	in	the	world,	allowing	and	engaging	with	reality’s	interruptions	of	the	self	and	its	desires.	I	close	this	chapter	by	offering	a	perspective	on	artistic	collaboration	as	a	dialogical	process.	Understanding	Dialogue	The	notion	of	dialogue	is	broad,	with	many	scholars	studying	and	writing	on	the	subject.	Therefore,	I	made	a	conscious	decision	to	examine	the	work	of	five	different	thinkers:	Martin	Buber	(1965,	1996),	Mikhail	Mikhailovich	Bakhtin	(1965,	1982,	1984,		 35	1986),	Hannah	Arendt	(1954,	1958),	David	Bohm	(2004),	and	Gert	J.	J.	Biesta	(2001,	2004,	2006,	2010,	2011,	2012a,	2012b,	2012c,	2013a,	2013b,	2014,	2015a,	2015b,	2015c,	2018,	2009a,	2010).		Before	elaborating	on	those	thinkers’	understandings	of	dialogue,	it	is	important	to	mention	the	other	common	use	of	the	term	dialogue	in	education.	Although	most	theories	about	dialogue	tend	to	concentrate	on	intersubjective	processes,	the	term	has	been	developed	in	relation	to	a	more	‘practical’	school	of	thought	in	education	that	views	dialogue	as	an	effective	teaching	technique/method	educators	can	apply	for	better	outcomes	(Burbules,	1993).	The	centre	of	attention	in	such	studies	is	towards	setting	criteria	for	“how	to”	dialogue	and	what	benefits	teachers	and	students	could	gain	from	such	interactions.	Scholars	such	as	Stern	and	Madison	(2007)	and	Palmer	(2007)	represent	this	viewpoint.	These	scholars,	among	others,	write	extensively	about	dialogue	as	a	list	of	actions,	thoughts,	and	even	feelings	one	should	go	through	while	engaging	in	dialogue.	In	this	current	moment	in	history,	in	which	the	“banking	concept	of	education”	(Freire,	1970,	p.	243)	is	still	in	use,	there	is	a	reasonable	temptation	to	look	for	this	type	of	approach	in	order	to	stay	on	track	with	the	knowledge	transmission	model	and	its	standards	test	results.	However,	I	chose	to	study	the	notion	of	dialogue	from	an	existential	lived	experience,	as	it	appears	in	democratic	education	around	the	world.	In	the	context	of	democratic	education,	dialogue	carries	philosophical	as	well	as	pragmatic	meanings;	the	same	is	true	in	other	alternative	educational	settings.		Buber.	Coming	to	understand	the	notion	of	dialogue	took	me	back	to	the	notion	of	I	and	Thou,	which	Buber	(1996)	coined.	Among	his	numerous	publications,	his	book	I	and	Thou	(Buber,	1996)	is	considered	one	of	the	foundations	of	dialogue	discourse	and	has	become	well	known	worldwide.	I	and	Thou	was	originally	published	in	1923,	when	Buber	was	45	years	old.	In	this	piece,	Buber	(1996)	articulated	thoughts	from	two	decades	of	studying,	teaching,	writing,	and	living	as	a	Jew	in	different	historical	and	geographical	locations	(see	also	Zank,	2007).	In	his	book	I	and	Thou,	Buber	(1996)	expands	this	understanding	by	dividing	the	human	condition	into	two	main	ways	of	engaging	in	the	world:	mode	of	experience	(I–It)	and	mode	of	encounter	(I–Thou).	Before	going	into	the	details	of	this	work,	it	is	important	to	understand	Buber’s	genealogy	of	ideas	as	they	relate		 36	to	the	contexts	and	meaning	of	his	writings.	For	instance,	Buber’s	beginnings	in	the	Zionist	movement,	his	withdrawal	from	the	movement,	and	his	later	interest	in	a	bi-national	country	for	Palestinians	and	Jews	influenced	his	move	from	a	mode	of	being	for	that	is,	taking	the	representative	role	of	his	Zionist	community,	to	a	mode	of	being	with	that	allows	the	I	to	be	free	from	the	representative	role	and	experience	of	the	world	as	Thou.	I	explore	both	of	Buber’s	(1996)	ways	of	engaging	in	the	world	later	in	this	dissertation.	It	should	be	noted	that	his	early	years	were	critical	to	his	scholarship.	Buber	was	born	in	Vienna,	Austria,	in	1878	and	sent,	at	age	3,	to	live	with	his	paternal	grandparents,	Adele	and	Solomon	Buber,	in	Lvov	situated	in	the	then	Kingdom	of	Galicia	and	Lodomeria,	Austria—known	today	as	Lviv	in	Ukraine	(Zank,	2007).	Buber’s	grandfather,	Solomon	Buber,	was	known	for	his	connection	to	the	mystical	Jewish	movement	of	Hasidic	and	to	the	Jewish	enlightenment,	Haskalah	(Zank,	2007).	Growing	up	in	this	household,	Buber’s	early	years	were	informed	by	the	tension	between	the	Haskalah	movement,	which	was	based	on	rationality,	the	study	of	secular	subjects,	and	diverse	occupations	in	the	society,	as	well	as	by	the	mystical	and	religious-based	Hasidic	movement	(Zank,	2007).	Growing	up	in	this	diverse	intellectual	environment	and	being	engaged	in	the	mystical	and	scholarly	meaning	making	of	life	most	likely	left	its	mark	on	Buber’s	understanding	of	the	world.	Early	in	life,	Buber	was	an	active	member	in	the	Zionist	movement	known	as	Cultural	Zionism	and	a	part	of	the	renewal	of	Judaism	movement	as	well	(Zank,	2007).	Buber	was	25	years	old	when	he	withdrew	from	the	Zionist	party	work	and	later	stood	for	a	bi-national	country	for	Palestinians	and	Jews	(Zank,	2007).	A	few	years	later,	in	1916,	due	to	the	impact	and	influence	of	World	War	I,	Buber	began	publishing	the	journal	Der	Jew	(as	cited	in	Zank,	2007),	which	was	an	open	forum	of	exchange	on	any	issue	relating	to	cultural	and	political	Zionism.	In	this	journal	publication,	Buber	expressed	an	interest	in	dialogue	for	the	sake	of	thinking,	engaging,	and	understanding	together.	After	his	move	to	Palestine,	in	1938,	he	became	a	leader	of	the	United	Movement,	which	aimed	to	form	a	bridge	between	Arabs	and	Jews	and	bring	about	a	bi-national	state.	Interestingly,	Buber’s	stance	was	not	popular	then,	nor	is	it	today.	Buber	published	his	book	I	and	Thou	in	1923	after	two	decades	of	work,	during	which	time	he	broke	away	from	Zionism,	rediscovered	the	Hasidic	stream,	and	studied	the	dialogic	relationship	between	man	and	God	(Zank,	2007).	In	1924,	following	the	publication	of	his	book,	he	widened	his	studies	to	include	the	Hebrew	bible,	through	which		 37	he	claimed	to	find	his	ideal	dialogical	community.	Although	Buber	worked	with	the	Western	philosophical	canon,	he	retained	a	unique	understanding	of	the	role	of	community	in	religious	life,	deriving	primarily	from	the	Hasidic	stream	(Zank,	2007).	For	Buber,	the	Hasidic	community’s	tendency	to	bring	mundane	acts	into	realms	of	the	sacred	is	the	embodiment	of	the	relationship	one	has	with	God	(Zank,	2007).	Buber’s	thoughts	were	in	reaction	to	two	attitudes	towards	religious	meaning:	enlightenment	theology	and	atheistic	philosophy	(Zank,	2007).	Therefore,	Buber’s	thoughts	locate	in	between	these	two	streams,	where	there	is	space	for	different	meaning	of	God,	as	he	writes	about	in	I	and	Thou:	Whoever	goes	forth	in	truth	to	the	world,	goes	forth	to	God.	Concentration	and	going	forth,	both	in	truth,	the	one-and-the-other	which	is	the	One,	are	what	is	needful.	God	embraces	but	is	not	the	universe;	just	so,	God	embraces	but	is	not	my	self.	On	account	of	this	which	cannot	be	spoken	about,	I	can	say	in	my	language,	as	all	can	say	in	theirs:	You.	For	the	sake	of	this	there	are	I	and	You,	there	is	dialogue,	there	is	language,	and	spirit	whose	primal	deed	language	is,	and	there	is,	in	eternity,	the	world.	(Buber,	1996,	p.	143)	It	could	be	argued	that	by	creating	a	third	path,	in	between	these	two	streams,	Buber	(1996)	attempts	to	counter	the	views	of	Marx	and	Nietzsche	(Zank,	2007),	for	whom	religion	was	a	mask,	drug,	or	obsession,	rather	than	a	communal	experience	with	a	higher	power.		 38		Figure	4.	The	human	condition.	By	Ofira	Roll.		In	Figure	4,	I	strive	to	illustrate	core	ideas	from	Buber’s	(1996)	idea	of	I	and	Thou.	Buber	(1996)	divided	the	human	condition	into	two	ways	of	engaging	in	the	world:	The	I-Thou	mode	and	the	I–It	mode.	The	I–Thou	mode	of	encounter	is	a	form	of	dialogue	in	which	I	and	thou	(another	being)	are	in	relation.	This	mode	is	not	an	internal	process,	but	rather	a	means	for	one	I	and	another	I	to	converse	in	a	reciprocal	way,	creating	relational	moments	of	dialogue.	According	to	Buber	(1996),	in	this	mode,	humans	feel	fulfilled	by	living	a	meaningful	life.	Experiencing	the	mode	of	encounter	leads	to	the	ability	to	converse	with	the	entire	world	as	thou.	In	I	and	Thou	Buber	(1996)	clarifies:	When	I	confront	a	human	being	as	my	You	and	speak	the	basic	word	I-You	to	him,	then	he	is	no	thing	among	things	nor	does	he	consist	of	things.	He	is	no	longer	He	or	She,	limited	by	other	Hes	and	Shes,	a	dot	in	the	world	grid	of	space	and	time,	nor	a	condition	that	can	be	experienced	and	described,	a	loose	bundle	of	named	qualities.		 39	Neighborless	and	seamless,	he	is	You	and	fills	the	firmament.	Not	as	if	there	were	nothing	but	he;	but	everything	else	lives	in	his	light.	(p.	59)	The	mode	becomes	I–thou	when	people	enter	into	relationship	with	the	object	encountered,	when	both	I	and	Thou	are	transformed	by	the	relationship	between	them.	The	Thou	is	in	its	entirety,	not	merely	a	sum	of	its	qualities.	The	Thou	is	encountered	as	the	entire	universe,	or	as	if	the	entire	universe	existed	within	the	Thou.	The	Thou	can	be	inanimate	objects,	animals,	and	humans.	With	humans	it	can	best	be	described	as	love.	The	I	relates	to	another	I,	not	as	an	object	to	be	used	but	as	one	who	must	relate.	However,	people	can	also	enter	into	encounters	with	beings	that	cannot	be	the	object,	such	as	God.	Buber	(1996)	makes	a	connection	between	the	mode	of	encounter	to	one’s	relation	with	the	world	in	the	world,	that	is,	with	God.	As	Buber	(1996)	states	in	the	‘Third	Part”	of	I	and	Thou:	As	long	as	one	attains	redemption	only	in	his	self,	he	cannot	do	any	good	or	harm	to	the	world;	he	does	not	concern	it.	Only	he	that	believes	in	the	world	achieves	contact	with	it;	and	if	he	commits	himself	he	also	cannot	remain	godless.	Let	us	love	the	actual	world	that	never	wishes	to	be	annulled,	but	love	it	in	all	its	terror,	but	dare	to	embrace	it	with	our	spirit’s	arms—and	our	hands	encounter	the	hands	that	hold	it.	I	know	nothing	of	a	“world”	and	of	“worldly	life”	that	separate	us	from	God.	What	is	designated	that	way	is	life	with	an	alienated	It-world,	the	life	of	experience	and	use.	(p.	143)	Second	is	the	mode	of	experience,	I–It,	which	is	a	monologue.	The	I-It	mode	could	also	be	understood	as	a	manner	of	existence.	In	this	mode	the	I	is	surrounded	by	a	multiple	It.	This	mode	is	internal	as	well	as	external	and	includes	feelings,	senses,	experiences,	and	imagination.	In	this	mode	of	experience,	the	I	gathers	data,	analyzes,	classifies,	and	theorizes,	one	as	subject	and	the	other	as	object	(Buber,	1996).	Therefore,	the	I	in	this	mode	is	not	an	active	participant	and	is	not	relational,	as	in	the	mode	of	encounter.	Buber	(1996)	clarifies	the	transition	from	the	mode	of	encounter,	I-Thou,	to	the	mode	of	experience,	I-It:	Even	as	a	melody	is	not	composed	of	tones,	nor	a	verse	of	words,	nor	a	statue	of	lines—one	must	pull	and	tear	to	turn	a	unity	a	multiplicity—so	it	is	with	the	human	being	to		 40	whom	I	say	You.	I	can	abstract	from	him	the	color	of	his	hair	or	the	color	of	his	speech	or	the	color	of	his	graciousness;	I	have	to	do	this	again	and	again;	but	immediately	he	is	no	longer	You.	(p.	59)	The	I	experiences	the	world	by	gathering	fragmented	information	that	can	not	be	experienced	as	the	whole	as	it	appears	in	the	mode	of	encounter.	Thus,	Buber	(1996)	claims	that	entire	modern	society	is	built	on	this	mode	of	I–It.	Public	institutions,	politics,	economics,	and	personal	lives	are	all	grounded	in	the	fact	that	people	view	and	encounter	another	being	as	It	and	not	as	You	(Thou).	To	live	more	in	the	encounter	mode,	Buber	(1996)	argues	that	people	must	open	up	to	the	possibility	of	relation	to	You,	rather	than	the	experience	of	It.	As	Buber	(1996)	states	in	his	book	I	and	Thou:	The	basic	word	I–You	can	be	spoken	only	with	one’s	whole	being.	The	concentration	and	fusion	into	a	whole	being	can	never	be	accomplished	by	me,	can	never	be	accomplished	without	me.	I	require	a	You	to	become;	All	actual	life	is	encounter.	(p.	62)		But	whoever	merely	has	a	living	“experience”	of	his	attitude	and	retains	it	in	his	soul	may	be	as	thoughtful	as	can	be,	he	is	worldless—and	all	the	games,	arts,	intoxications,	enthusiasms,	and	mysteries	that	happen	within	him	do	not	touch	the	world’s	skin.	(p.	142)		As	Buber	(1996)	claims	in	the	last	two	quotes,	the	attitude	of	people	is	twofold:	I-Thou	and	I–It,	with	the	I-Thou	being	more	desirable.	In	the	last	chapter	of	I	and	Thou,	Buber	(1996)	emphasizes	the	connection	between	a	fulfilling	and	meaningful	society	and	the	mode	of	encounter	(i.e.,	I-Thou)	by	engaging	in	the	world	in	relation	to	God.	Buber	(1996)	perceives	this	relation	as	a	true	love	relation	in	which	one	could	be	fully	encountered	by	Thou	or	God:	God	and	man,	being	consubstantial,	are	actually	and	forever	Two,	the	two	partners	of	the	primal	relationship	that,	from	God	to	man,	is	called	mission	and	commandment;	from	man	to	God,	seeing	and	hearing;	between	both,	knowledge	and	love.	And	in	this	relationship	the	son,	although	the	father	dwells	and	works	in	him,	bows	before	him	that	is	“greater”	and	prays	to	him.	All	modern	attempts	to	reinterpret	this	primal		 41	actuality	of	dialogue	and	to	make	of	it	a	relationship	of	the	I	to	the	self	or	something	of	that	sort,	as	if	it	were	a	process	confined	to	man’s	self	sufficient	inwardness,	are	vain	and	belong	to	the	abysmal	history	of	decasualization.	(p.	133)	Love	does	not	fulfill	our	yearning	for	relation	(Buber,	1996).	Buber	(1996)	continues	on	to	explain	that	in	every	encounter	with	others,	people	feel	it	could	be	more	lasting	and	fulfilling—that	‘more’	is	the	encounter	with	God,	in	which	people	experience	absolute	relation.	This	encounter	with	God	cannot	happen	by	seeking	but	only	by	being	in	the	world	in	both	modes	of	‘I	of	experience’	and	‘I	of	encounter.’	After	experiencing	the	absolute	encounter,	Buber	(1996)	continues,	people	come	to	see	all	other	beings	(i.e.,	animals,	human,	nature)	as	You	(Thou):	“You	do	not	know	how	to	point	to	or	define	the	meaning,	you	lack	any	formula	or	image	for	it,	and	yet	it	is	more	certain	for	you	than	the	sensations	of	your	senses”	(p.	159).	Through	experiencing	this,	the	I	is	no	longer	alienated,	life	is	not	meaningless,	and	the	I	experiences	the	world	with	a	sense	of	loving	responsibility	towards	the	entire	world	and	is,	therefore,	willing	to	build	society	and	community	by	the	ability	to	say	‘You’	to	the	entire	world.	The	specific	dimensions	this	study	connect	Buber’s	(1996)	mode	of	experience	(I–It)	and	mode	of	encounter	(I–Thou),	as	both	are	needed	to	encompass	dialogue	as	people	yearn	for	relations.		Bakhtin.	Moving	from	Buber	(1996)	to	the	work	of	Mikhail	Mikhailovich	Bakhtin	keeps	the	line	of	thought	regarding	dialogue.	While	Buber	(1996)	is	more	concerned	with	people	yearning	for	relation,	Bakhtin	(1982)	adds	the	language	component	and	its	relational	aspects.	Buber	(1996)	and	Bakhtin	(1982)	wrote	about	and	explored	the	notion	of	dialogue	in	the	same	period	of	time	and	in	different	locations,	yet	relatively	close	geographically.	Bakhtin’s	(1965,	1982,	1984,	1986)	work	spans	literary	theory,	critique,	philosophy,	and	ethics.	In	his	book	The	Dialogic	Imagination:	Four	Essays,	Bakhtin	(1982)	describes	language	as	an	inherently	unfinalizable	dialogic	process,	always	incomplete	and	in	the	stage	of	becoming.	Utterances	and	words,	in	Bakhtin’s	(1982)	writings,	represent	multivocality	and	difference,	in	which	dialogue	develops	into	fundamental	ways	of	being	in	the	world.	His	understanding	of	language	links	directly	to	a	notion	of	dialogue	on	which	he	elaborates	in	the	following	four	books:	Problems	of	Dostoevsky's	Poetics	(Bakhtin,	1984),	Rabelais	and	His	World	(Bakhtin,	1965),	The	Dialogic	Imagination:	Four	Essays	(Bakhtin,		 42	1982),	and	Speech	Genres	and	Other	Late	Essays	(Bakhtin,	1986).	Before	examining	these	concepts	further,	it	is	first	necessary	to	place	them	in	their	historical	context	through	an	exploration	of	Bakhtin’s	life	experiences.	Bakhtin	was	born	at	the	beginning	of	the	20th	century	and	lived	as	a	Russian	in	a	time	of	major	political	and	cultural	upheaval	within	the	Communist	Party,	following	the	death	of	Lenin	and	the	uprising	of	Stalin	and	Marxism	in	Russia	(Zappen,	2004).	Over	the	span	of	his	life	he	lived	in	at	least	10	different	locations	in	Russia,	and	on	a	number	of	occasions	he	was	forcibly	moved	by	the	government	on	account	of	inappropriate	writings	and	unconventional	religious	preferences	and	activities	(Zappen,	2004).	In	the	Soviet	Era	of	that	time,	holding	faith	was	against	the	law.	Bakhtin	lived	his	early	years	in	two	border	cosmopolitan	cities	where	languages	and	cultures	mixed	(Zappen,	2004).	These	experiences	of	living	in	multicultural	cities	likely	influenced	his	concept	of	“heteroglossia”	(Bakhtin,	1982,	pp.	271–272).	Bakhtin	(1982)	refers	to	heteroglossia	as	a	mixture	of	worldviews	and	languages	in	which	words	hold	ongoing	meaning.	Language	does	not	exist	in	a	neutral	space,	Bakhtin	(1982)	states,	but	in	the	mouths	of	individuals,	as	he	writes	about	in	his	book	The	Dialogic	Imagination:	Four	Essays:	The	word	in	language	is	half	someone	else’s.	It	becomes	“one’s	own”	only	when	the	speaker	populates	it	with	his	own	intention,	his	own	accent,	when	he	appropriates	the	word,	adapting	it	to	his	own	semantic	and	expressive	intention.	Prior	to	this	moment	of	appropriation,	the	word	does	not	exist	in	a	neutral	and	impersonal	language,	but	rather	it	exists	in	other	people’s	mouths,	in	other	people’s	contexts,	serving	other	people’s	intentions:	it	is	from	there	that	one	must	take	the	word,	and	make	it	one’s	own.	Language	is	not	a	neutral	medium	that	passes	freely	and	easily	into	the	private	property	of	the	speaker’s	intentions;	it	is	populated—overpopulated	with	the	intentions	of	others.	Expropriating	it,	forcing	it	to	submit	to	one’s	own	intentions	and	accents,	is	a	difficult	and	complicated	process.	(pp.	293–294)	Therefore,	Bakhtin’s	(1982,	1986)	concept	of	dialogue	was	shaped	by	his	interest	in	language,	communication,	and	community.	In	his	book,	Speech	Genres	and	Other	Late	Essays,	Bakhtin	(1986)	explains	that	the	words	and	utterances	people	use	are	already	embedded	in	culture	and	history	by	others	and	are	part	of	a	living	“chain	of	communication”	(p.	68).	This	chain	of	communication	carries	words	and	meaning	from	particular	political	and	cultural		 43	moments,	as	well	as	terms	considered	alien	to	these	contexts.	Bakhtin	(1986)	emphasizes	in	his	book,	Speech	Genres	and	Other	Late	Essays,	the	fact	that	words	are	“interindividual”	(p.	121),	that	is,	occurring	between	individuals,	and	cannot	be	owned	by	anyone:	A	word	(or	in	general	any	sign)	is	interindividual.	Everything	that	is	said,	expressed,	is	located	outside	the	soul	of	the	speaker	and	does	not	belong	only	to	him.	The	word	cannot	be	assigned	to	a	single	speaker.	The	author	(speaker)	has	his	own	inalienable	right	to	the	word,	but	the	listener	has	his	rights,	and	those	whose	voices	are	heard	in	the	word	before	the	author	comes	upon	it	also	have	their	rights	(after	all,	there	are	no	words	that	belong	to	no	one).	(pp.	121–122)	The	concept	of	interindividual,	introduced	by	Bakhtin	(1986),	creates	a	new	understanding	for	the	notion	of	dialogue,	in	which	communication	is	about	the	in-between	rather	than	ownership.	The	concept	of	interindividual	offers	an	opening	to	the	unknown	and	uncontrolled	space	in	dialogue.	The	idea	that	the	whole	is	different	from	the	sum	of	its	parts	is	not	new.	In	Metaphysics,	Aristotle	(as	cited	in	Cohen,	2016)	states,	“The	totality	is	not,	as	it	were,	a	mere	heap,	but	the	whole	is	something	besides	the	parts”	(Section	13,	para.	1).	The	chain	of	communication	offers	a	different	way	to	think	about	Buber’s	(1996)	concept	of	the	I	and	Thou	or	It.	Words,	according	to	Bakhtin	(1982),	keep	changing	in	chains	of	communication,	influenced	by	cultural,	social,	and	political	contexts.	As	Bakhtin	(1982)	suggests:	All	words	have	the	“taste”	of	a	profession,	a	genre,	a	tendency,	a	party,	a	particular	work,	a	particular	person,	a	particular	generation,	an	age	group,	the	day	and	hour.	Each	word	tastes	of	the	context	and	contexts	in	which	it	has	lived	its	socially	charged	life;	all	words	and	forms	are	populated	by	intentions.	(p.	293)	Thus,	dialogue	carries	contexts,	intentions,	and	moments	in	which	participants’	lived	experiences	carry	it	on.	Being	in	dialogue	is	not	an	abstract	sphere	but	contextual	and	relational.	While	thinking	about	Bakhtin’s	(1982)	understanding	of	communication	in	relation	to	Buber	(1996),	the	meaning	of	dialogue	become	less	controlled	by	one	and	are	instead	free	to	be	in	the	mix	of	populated	intentions.	In	his	book,	Problems	of	Dostoevsky's	Poetics,	Bakhtin	(1984)	declines	to	draw	on	other	theories	in	ethics	by	claiming	there	is	no		 44	abstract	meaning	and	thinking	in	communication.	Rather,	all	thinking	is	contextual	and	relational:	The	very	being	of	man	(internal	and	external)	is	a	profound	communication.	To	be	means	to	communicate.	To	be	means	to	be	for	the	other,	and	through	him,	for	oneself.	A	person	has	no	internal	sovereign	territory:	he	is	wholly	and	always	on	the	boundary;	looking	within	himself,	he	looks	in	the	eyes	of	the	other	or	through	the	eyes	of	the	other	…	I	cannot	do	without	the	other;	I	cannot	become	myself	without	the	other;	I	must	find	myself	in	the	other.	(Bakhtin,	1984,	p.	287)	Bakhtin’s	(1984)	understanding	of	relational	seems	to	be	rooted	in	Albert	Einstein’s	(born	in	1879	and	passed	away	in	1955)	understanding	that	any	move	happens	in	relation	to	something	else,	otherwise	it	would	not	be	considered	moving	(Zappen,	2004).	Bakhtin	consociates	this	with	dialogue	and	communication,	as	it	is	necessary	to	have	a	relational	connection	in	order	to	experience	the	I.	In	other	words,	meaning	is	relational,	and,	in	order	to	experience	dialogism	and	make	meaning	from	it,	one	must	have	a	relational	connection	with	the	other	I—physical,	political,	and	conceptual	relational	connections	for	understanding	and	meaning	to	emerge	(Bakhtin,	1982).	This	relational	understanding	that	Bakhtin	developed	relative	to	Einstein’s	work	(as	cited	in	Zappen,	2004,	p.	39)	connects	directly	to	his	concept	of	communication	chain,	in	which	dialogue	emerges.	Bakhtin’s	(1986)	notion	of	dialogue	emerges	in	communication	in	which	utterances	and	words	hold	different	meaning	when	speakers	and	listeners	bring	their	context	into	the	communication	chain.	In	his	broad	concept	of	dialogue,	all	individuals	communicate	in	a	complex	web	in	which	individuals	shape	each	other’s	utterances	and	words.	Bringing	words	and	utterances	to	live	speech	and	understanding,	Bakhtin	(1986)	argues,	is	an	inherently	responsive	and	active	process:	And	the	listener	adopts	this	responsive	attitude	for	the	entire	duration	of	the	process	of	listening	and	understanding,	from	the	very	beginning—sometimes	literally	from	the	speaker’s	first	word.	Any	understanding	of	live	speech,	a	live	utterance,	is	inherently	responsive,	although	the	degree	of	this	activity	varies	extremely.	Any	understanding	is		 45	imbued	with	response	and	necessarily	elicits	it	in	one	form	or	another:	the	listener	becomes	the	speaker.	(p.	68)	Thus,	vital	understanding	holds	a	constant	expectation	of	response,	objection,	sympathy,	agreement,	execution,	and	so	forth	(Bakhtin,	1986,	p.	69).	Words	and	utterances	exist	in	between	speakers	and	listeners,	receiving	and	changing	meaning	in	a	dialogical	manner.	In	Bakhtin’s	(1984)	discussion	of	dialogue	in	his	book	Problems	of	Dostoevsky's	Poetics,	he	distinguishes	between	dialogue	(Socratic)	and	monologue	(Platonic).	Bakhtin	(1984)	did	so	by	arguing	that	a	Platonic	perspective	derives	more	from	the	rhetorical	tradition,	which	is	single-voiced	and	ruled	by	a	pre-set	hierarchical	relationship.	This	is	in	contrary	to	a	Socratic	perspective,	which	according	to	Bakhtin	(1984),	is	a	double-voiced	dialogic	that	encourages	the	deliberation	of	someone	else’s	utterances	and	words.	In	this	case,	the	dialogue	is	a	relational	act,	evolving	through	all	participants	in	the	dialogue,	whereas,	in	the	Platonic	rhetorical	tradition,	the	relationship	between	speaker	and	listener	is	hierarchical	and	predefined	(Bakhtin,	1984).	Therefore,	Bakhtin	(1984)	suggests	that,	instead	of	following	the	rhetorical	tradition	of	an	ongoing	exchange	of	words	and	utterances,	it	would	be	necessary	to	move	towards	restructuring	the	traditional	relationship	between	speaker	and	listener/writer	and	reader,	toward	the	creation	of	ideas	in	cooperation.	Putting	Bakhtin’s	(1984)	suggestion	into	democratic	education	means	living	the	restructuring	of	the	traditional	relationship	between	student	teacher.	Moving	to	a	more	complex	and	challenging	relationship	within	the	school	community,	in	which	even	roles	in	school	should	not	be	set	by	default.	A	study	session	could	run	without	a	teacher,	with	several	teachers,	with	other	adults,	or	be	led	by	younger	students,	thus	shifting	away	from	traditional	forms	of	argument	in	which	words	are	just	replicated	without	evolving.	By	offering	this	path	of	dialogue,	Bakhtin	(1984)	critiques	the	rhetorical	tradition	for	underlining	past	voices	and	predicting	future	voices.	His	critique	may	relate	to	his	early	years	in	Vilnius	and	Odessa,	where	he	was	exposed	to	complex	and	rich	mixes	of	cultures,	languages,	and	classes,	which	he	later	called	heteroglossia.	Bakhtin	(1984)	uses	the	term	to	refer	to	a	complex	mix	of	languages	and	worldviews	in	constant	dialogue	in	which	each	language	is	viewed	from	the	other	point	of	view.	The	concept	of	heteroglossia	enables	one	to	look	for	the	rich	double-voices	of	multiple	languages,	different	cultures,	and	perspectives.		 46	Such	dialogue	between	individuals,	cultures,	languages,	and	utterances	is	an	ongoing	process	that	never	ends,	allowing	language	to	change	as	a	result	of	a	hybridization	of	languages	and	meaning.	Bakhtin	(1982)	recognizes	what	dialogue	offers	beyond	a	simple	exchange	of	words	and	turn-taking	of	voices:	“For	any	individual	consciousness	living	in	it,	language	is	not	an	abstract	system	of	normative	forms	but	rather	a	concrete	heteroglot	conception	of	the	world”	(p.	293).	Bakhtin	(1965)	also	offers	the	concept	of	“folk	culture”	(p.	4)	and	“carnival”	(p.	7)	to	elaborate	on	his	understanding	of	language.	He	presents	the	folk	culture	and	carnival	as	spaces	in	which	intentions,	social	structures,	power	relations,	and	contexts	are	questionable	(Bakhtin,	1965).	In	folk	culture	and	carnival,	fears	are	defeated	by	laughter	in	which	all	are	equal	and	there	is	no	power	structure	among	all—people	allow	themselves	to	play	 ,	celebrate,	and	release	control	with	language,	meaning,	and	behaviours.	As	opposed	to	the	official	feast,	one	might	say	that	carnival	celebrated	temporary	liberation	from	the	prevailing	truth	and	from	the	established	order;	it	marked	the	suspension	of	all	hierarchical	rank,	privileges,	norms,	and	prohibitions.	Carnival	was	the	true	feast	of	time,	the	feast	of	becoming,	change,	and	renewal.	It	was	hostile	to	all	that	was	immortalized	and	completed.	(Bakhtin,	1965,	p.	10)	Having	said	that,	Bakhtin	(1965)	offers	society	the	unmasking	and	disclosing	of	the	unvarnished	truth	under	the	veil	of	false	claims	and	arbitrary	ranks.	In	this	unmasking	reality,	Bakhtin	(1865)	claims	that	people	experience	a	sense	of	relational	togetherness,	in	which	the	community	offers	a	way	of	being	I	and	“symbols	of	fear	[are]	defeated	by	laughter”	(p.	394).	Bakhtin	(1965)	asserts	that	dialogic	language,	as	it	appears	in	carnival	and	in	folk	culture,	is	unstable	homogeny	of	thought.	This	cultural	environment	encourages	the	motion	and	movement	of	thinking	and	rethinking	of	thoughts	(Bakhtin,	1965).	According	to	Bakhtin	(1965),	the	creative	atmosphere	of	folk	festivities	aside	the	seriousness	of	official	authority,	questions	hierarchies,	and	shakes	the	‘known.’	As	he	writes	in	Rabelais	and	His	World:		 47	In	spite	of	their	variety	folk	festivities	of	the	carnival	type,	the	comic	rites	and	cults,	the	clowns	and	fools,	giants,	dwarfs,	and	jugglers,	the	vast	and	manifold	literature	of	parody	–	all	these	forms	have	one	style	in	common:	they	belong	to	one	culture	of	folk	carnival	humor.	(Bakhtin,	1965,	p.	4)		Considering	the	notion	of	carnival,	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	adds	that	people	situate	texts	“within	the	context	of	the	other	text	and	within	their	historical	and	cultural	context	enriches	…	[the]	notion	of	carnival	as	a	process	of	creative	renewal	and	social	transformation”	(Zappen,	2004,	p.	39).	With	that,	Bakhtin	(1965)	stresses	the	significance	of	the	context	in	the	process	of	creative	renewal	within	the	chain	of	communication.	Furthermore,	exploring	communication	from	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	perspective	highlights	the	importance	of	encountering	others	in	the	process	of	creating	meaning	and	communicating.	In	this	study,	I	connected	with	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	specific	dimensions	of	language	can	be	viewed	as	a	relational	act	of	living	chains	of	communication	that	are	influenced	by	and	evolve	through	all	participants,	as	they	are	situated	within	various	cultural,	social,	and	political	contexts.	Language	does	not	exist	in	a	neutral	space	and	is	inherently	unfinalizable.	As	such,	a	dialogic	process	is	always	incomplete	because	words	hold	negotiated	meanings.	Within	a	chain	of	communication	a	folk	culture	and	a	carnival	offer	unmasked	spaces	in	which	intentions,	social	structures,	power	relations,	and	contexts	are	questionable.	Arendt.	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	view	of	encountering	others	intersects	with	Arendt’s	(1954,	1958)	understanding	of	dialogue.	Arendt	brings	together	different	aspects	of	political	existence	through	being	a	part	of	and	acting	for	participatory	democracy.	Arendt	(1954,	1958)	suggested	that	human	beings	can	experience	freedom	and	liberation	as	individuals	in	relation	to	others	in	society.	Margaret	Canovan	(as	cited	in	Arendt,	1958)	writes	about	Arendt’s	standpoint	in	the	introduction	of	The	Human	Condition:	Arendt	was	certainly	drawn	to	participatory	democracy,	and	was	an	enthusiastic	observer	of	outbreaks	of	civic	activity	…	reminding	us	that	the	capacity	to	act	is	present	even	in	unlikely	circumstances	was	certainly	one	of	her	purposes.	But	she	emphatically	denied	that	her	role	as	a	political	thinker	was	to	propose	a	blueprint	for	the	future	or	to	tell	anyone	what	to	do.	(p.	viii)		 48	On	the	contrary,	Arendt	(1958,	1963)	writes	in	The	Human	Condition	and	in	Eichmann	in	Jerusalem	about	the	importance	of	action,	such	as	labour	and	work,	as	one	of	the	conditions	of	being	human.	In	these	two	books,	Arendt	(1958,	1963)	emphasizes	the	importance	of	using	and	not	losing	one’s	congenital	ability	to	think	for	oneself.	Arendt	(1958)	stresses	the	need	for	people	to	think	and	use	their	“capacity	of	beginning	something	anew”	(p.	9),	since	this	is	what	makes	us	human.	Therefore,	Arendt	(1958,	1963)	perceives	her	role	as	political	thinker	as	reminding	people	of	their	abilities	and	responsibilities	to	think	and	act	in	the	world	in	which	they	live	without	offering	answers	and	a	way	to	do	so.	Hence,	Arendt	brings	to	the	forefront	the	complexity	of	communication	and	being	in	dialogic	process.	Although	Arendt	was	mostly	known	for	her	influential	political	philosophy	with	her	books	The	Origins	of	Totalitarianism	(Arendt,	1951),	Between	Past	and	Future	(Arendt,	1954),	The	Human	Condition	(Arendt,	1958),	and	Eichmann	in	Jerusalem	(Arendt,	1963),	her	work	is	not	classified	within	a	specific	philosophical	school	of	thought.	She	does,	however,	keep	a	relational	sense	with	the	present	and	through	writing	with	several	thinkers’	philosophies	as	such	as	Martin	Heidegger	(1927),	Aristotle	(Cohen,	2016),	and	Karl	Jaspers	(1941).	The	historical	and	personal	context	of	Arendt’s	(1951,	1954,	1958,	1963)	work	could	offer	some	understanding	of	her	non-linear	and	unfixed	philosophy.	She	was	born	in	Germany	in	the	early	20th	century	to	a	secular	Jewish	family	(d'Entreves,	2006).	Arendt’s	early	years	as	a	young	child	included	her	father’s	death,	battles	between	Russia	and	Germany	next	to	her	home	town	during	World	War	I,	and	her	mother’s	new	marriage	(d'Entreves,	2006).	By	1925,	when	she	was	19	years	old,	she	studied	theology	and	philosophy	at	the	university	level	and	had	an	affair	with	one	of	her	professors,	Martin	Heidegger,	who	influenced	her	thoughts	and	views	(d'Entreves,	2006).	Later	on,	she	moved	to	study	with	Karl	Jaspers	who	became	her	mentor	for	her	dissertation	on	the	notion	of	love	in	St.	Augustine’s	philosophy	(d'Entreves,	2006).	In	1929,	she	was	married	for	the	first	time.	By	early	1933,	the	national	socialists	had	gained	power	under	Hitler’s	leadership	and	Arendt	became	a	political	activist	with	a	Zionist	organization	(d'Entreves,	2006).	Her	research	of	anti-Semitic	propaganda	led	to	her	imprisonment	by	the	Gestapo	and	to	her	escape	to	Paris	(d'Entreves,	2006).	It	is	important	to	mention	that	Arendt	did	not	research	Judaism	or	God	in	her	writing	but	became	politically	aware	of	her	Jewish	roots	in	relation	to	anti-Semitic	actions	during	that	time.	While	in	Paris,	she	rescued	Jewish	children	from		 49	Germany	and	helped	them	to	reach	Palestine	(d'Entreves,	2006).	There,	in	Paris	during	World	War	II,	she	also	married	for	the	second	time	and	moved	to	the	United	States	after	being	persecuted	for	her	activism	and	writings	as	a	Jew	(d'Entreves,	2006).	A	decade	later,	she	became	a	citizen	of	the	United	States	and	published	her	well-known	book,	The	Origins	of	Totalitarianism	(Arendt,	1951).	Arendt’s	life	experiences	through	two	world	wars	in	Europe,	being	marked	as	a	Jew,	and	denied	citizenship	status	for	more	than	two	decades,	both	limited	her	freedom	of	expression	and	movement	and	influenced	her	writing	(d'Entreves,	2006).	Thus,	it	is	not	surprising	that	Arendt	chose	to	question	fundamental	concepts	of	freedom,	responsibility,	liberation,	the	origin	of	totalitarianism,	political	life,	modernity,	and	human	conditions	including	basic	human	rights.	In	many	ways	Arendt’s	works	seem	not	to	be	unified	or	linear	and	are	difficult	to	classify	and	frame.	However,	a	close	reading	of	Arendt’s	concepts,	such	as	the	nature	of	freedom,	the	need	of	public	space,	the	gift	of	action,	and	plurality,	uncovers	a	clear	relational	connection	between	them	all	and	how	these	inform	the	notion	of	dialogue	between	humans	in	modern	democracy.	As	Arendt	(1954)	writes	in	her	book,	Between	Past	and	Future:	Whether	we	know	it	or	not,	the	question	of	politics	and	the	fact	that	man	is	a	being	endowed	with	the	gift	of	action	must	always	be	present	to	our	mind	when	we	speak	of	the	problem	of	freedom;	for	action	and	politics,	among	all	the	capabilities	and	potentialities	of	human	life,	are	the	only	things	of	which	we	could	not	ever	conceive	without	at	least	assuming	that	freedom	exists,	and	we	can	hardly	touch	a	single	political	issue	of	man’s	liberty.	(p.	145)	Although	Arendt	(1951)	writes	about	the	importance	of	freedom	in	democracy,	in	one	of	her	well-known	chapters	in	the	book,	The	Origins	of	Totalitarianism	(Part	2,	Chapter	9),	she	elaborates	on	human	rights	and	the	role	of	the	nation-state	in	times	of	imperialism,	when	freedom	is	less	centred	than	citizens’	rights:	Something	much	more	fundamental	than	freedom	and	justice,	which	are	rights	of	citizens,	is	at	stake	when	belonging	to	the	community	into	which	one	is	born	is	no	longer	a	matter	of	course	and	not	belonging	no	longer	a	matter	of	choice,	or	when	one		 50	is	placed	in	a	situation	where,	unless	he	commits	a	crime,	his	treatment	by	others	does	not	depend	on	what	he	does	or	does	not	do.	(p.	296)	The	question	of	belonging	connects	with	Arendt’s	(1951)	understanding	of	the	rights	of	citizens,	which,	she	argued,	are	more	fundamental	for	human	life	than	freedom	and	justice.	The	rights	of	citizens	originate	in	a	sense	of	belonging	to	this	earth,	to	this	place,	and	to	humanity	as	an	essential	need.	Human	rights	are	beyond	language,	culture,	and	justice.	Human	rights,	as	Arendt	(1951)	suggests,	are	more	about	the	sense	of	belonging	from	an	existential	need.	Arendt	continued	by	making	connections	between	losing	citizens’	rights	and	organized	nationalistic	communities,	in	which	‘lost	nationality’	is	the	last	sign	of	past	citizenship.	At	times,	Arendt	(1951)	adds,	these	reorganized	nationalistic	communities	become	violent	and	even	‘wild’	in	the	name	of	rights	protection.	She	argued	that	only	by	following	the	loss	of	rights,	homes,	and	lives	that	occurred	within	the	two	world	wars	has	humanity	had	to	face	the	existence	of	people’s	rights	as	political	(Arendt,	1951).	She	concludes	by	saying,	“Only	with	a	completely	organized	humanity	could	the	loss	of	home	and	political	status	become	identical	with	expulsion	from	humanity	altogether”	(Arendt,	1951,	p.	297).	The	generic	right,	Arendt	(1951)	argues,	which	is	beyond	nationality	is	not	based	on	historical,	religious,	or	social	structures	and	affiliations.	The	rights	of	the	‘new	world’	became	an	encouragement	for	humanity	to	realize	that	all	humans	have	the	right	to	be	a	part	of	humanity	and	it	is	humanity’s	responsibility	to	keep	it	that	way.	Arendt	links	that	responsibility	to	political	action.	In	her	book	The	Human	Condition,	Arendt	(1958)	names	human	conditions	as	labour,	work,	and	action.	As	Arendt	(1958)	states:	Labor	is	the	activity	which	corresponds	to	the	biological	process	of	the	human	body,	whose	spontaneous	growth,	metabolism,	and	eventual	decay	are	bound	to	the	vital	necessities	produced	and	fed	into	the	life	process	by	labor.	The	human	condition	of	labor	is	life	itself.	Work	is	the	activity	which	corresponds	to	the	unnaturalness	of	human	existence,	which	is	not	imbedded	in,	and	whose	mortality	is	not	compensated	by,	the	species’	ever-recurring	life	cycle.	Work	provides	an	“artificial”	world	of	things,	distinctly	different	from	all	natural	surroundings.	Action,	the	only	activity	that	goes	on		 51	directly	between	men	without	the	intermediary	of	things	or	matter,	corresponds	to	the	human	condition	of	plurality,	to	the	fact	that	men	…	live	on	the	earth	and	inhabit	the	world.	(p.	7)	Taking	action	in	the	world,	according	to	Arendt	(1954),	requires	others	and	an	awareness	of	people’s	freedom	to	communicate	with	others;	it	is	not	to	say	that	freedom	is	a	characteristic	of	every	community—rather	that,	in	order	to	take	an	action,	one	needs	others	(Arendt,	1954).	The	need	for	action,	Arendt	claims,	indirectly	encourages	dialogue	to	happen.	For	this	democratic	human	condition	to	occur,	Arendt	(1954)	emphasizes	the	importance	of	the	public	space	where	citizens	are	able	to	encounter	each	other	and	be	engaged	politically.	The	idea	of	action	links	to	Arendt’s	concern	of	taking	responsibility	in	the	public	space.	Arendt	(1954)	stresses	that	people’s	actions	reveal	their	distinct	uniqueness,	which	permits	responsibility	taking	by	making	one	heard	in	the	world.	Arendt	(1954)	claims	that	people’s	new	beginning,	first	in	birth	and	then	later	while	taking	action	and	responsibility,	can	appear	thanks	to	plurality.	Being	the	only	condition	for	action	to	happen,	plurality	becomes	a	basic	condition	for	democracy	as	a	whole	(Arendt,	1958).	As	Arendt	(1958)	clarifies:	Action,	the	only	activity	that	goes	on	directly	between	men	without	the	intermediary	of	things	or	matter,	corresponds	to	the	human	condition	of	plurality,	to	the	fact	that	men,	not	Man,	live	on	the	earth	and	inhabit	the	world.	While	all	aspects	of	the	human	condition	are	somehow	related	to	politics,	this	plurality	is	specifically	the	condition—not	only	the	conditio	sine	qua	non,	but	the	conditio	per	quam—of	all	political	life.	(p.	7)	The	new	beginning	inherent	in	birth	can	make	itself	felt	in	the	world	only	because	the	newcomer	possesses	the	capacity	of	beginning	something	anew,	that	is,	of	acting.	In	this	sense	of	initiative,	an	element	of	action,	and	therefore	of	natality,	is	inherent	in	all	human	activities.	Moreover,	since	action	is	the	political	activity	par	excellence,	natality,	and	not	mortality,	may	be	the	central	category	of	political,	as	distinguished	from	metaphysical,	thought.	(p.	9)		 52	Therefore,	dialogue	serves	the	human	condition.	As	Arendt	(1954,	1958)	argues,	the	experience	of	dialogue	allows	people	to	explore	the	most	existential	foundations	as	experiencing	freedom,	taking	action,	and	being	born.	Thus,	dialogue	offers	a	complex	experience	of	the	human	condition.	In	this	study,	I	connected	with	specific	dimensions	of	Arendt’s	(1954,	1958)	ideas,	such	as	the	nature	of	freedom,	the	need	of	public	space,	the	gift	of	action,	and	plurality,	all	of	which	inform	the	notion	of	dialogue	between	humans.	Dialogue	allows	people	to	explore	these	existential	foundations	through	taking	action	in	the	world	through	an	awareness	of	people’s	freedom	to	communicate	across	a	spectrum	of	plurality.	Thus,	encounters	become	basic	conditions	for	democracy,	in	which	people	realize	their	capacity	of	beginning	something	anew	in	terms	of	political	existence	through	being	a	part	of	and	acting	for	participatory	democracy.	Bohm.	Considering	Arendt’s	(1954,	1958)	understanding	of	dialogue,	David	Bohm	(1985,	1986,	2004)	adds	additional	meaning	to	the	role	of	thought.	While	Arendt	(1954,	1958)	elaborates	the	understanding	of	the	importance	of	encountering	others	and	how	dividing	humans	into	groups	based	on	different	reasons	harms	human	rights,	Bohm	(2004)	relates	to	Arendt’s	understanding	with	his	claim	that	fragmentation	breaks	things,	particularly	things	created	in	people’s	thoughts,	not	necessary	in	life.	Bohm’s	(1985)	philosophical	and	scientific	viewpoints	are	inseparable.	His	work	integrates	his	love	of	physics	and	his	later	years	of	studying	dialogue	with	special	attention	toward	the	role	of	thought.	In	his	books	Unfolding	Meaning	(Bohm,	1985)	and	On	Dialogue	(Bohm,	2004),	he	brings	his	understandings	of	the	relational	and	undivided	whole	from	his	physics	studies	into	conversation	with	his	exploration	of	the	notion	of	dialogue.	He	warns	about	fragmentation	of	the	parts	of	the	whole	since	they	all	belong	together	to	that	whole	and	should	not	be	broken	into	separate	entities.	Thus,	dialogue	is	not	a	sum	of	interactions	between	participants,	but	rather	a	holistic	process	conveying	relational	connections	that	should	stay	together	and	not	apart.	I’ll	try	to	give	some	examples	of	the	difficulty	in	thinking,	in	thought.	One	of	these	difficulties	is	fragmentation,	which	originates	in	thought—it	is	thought	which	divides	everything	up	…	we	set	up	separate	nations	…	we	also	divide	religions	…	and	in	the		 53	family,	the	divisions	are	in	thought.…	Fragmentation	is	one	of	the	difficulties	of	thought.	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	10)		It	is	breaking	things	up	which	are	not	really	separate	…	the	parts	are	parts	of	the	whole,	but	the	fragments	are	just	arbitrarily	broken	off	from	each	other.	That’s	one	of	the	features	of	thought	that’s	going	wrong.	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	56)	As	Bohm	(2004)	suggests	here,	fragmentation	is	an	obstacle	for	dialogue.	The	heart	of	dialogue	is	the	experimental	dialectical	process	beyond	fragmented	ways	of	thinking,	including	value	systems,	nations,	religions,	economics,	and	“selves,”	in	which	people	allow	the	emergent	friction	between	contrasting	values	to	occur.	Bohm	clarifies	that	dialogue	can	overcome	fragmentation	in	society.	It	is	important	to	know	that	although	he	wrote	more	than	a	dozen	well-known	books,	including	Quantum	Theory	(Bohm,	1951),	Wholeness	and	the	Implicate	Order	(Bohm,	1980),	and	Causality	and	Chance	in	Modern	Physics	(Bohm,	1984),	I	concentrated	only	on	two	of	his	books:	Unfolding	Meaning	(Bohm,	1985)	and	On	Dialogue	(Bohm,	2004).	Those	books	are	focused	on	dialogue	per	se.	In	coming	to	understand	Bohm’s	(1985,	2004)	writings,	it	is	important	to	be	aware	of	his	personal	context	while	growing	up.	Bohm	was	born	in	1917	in	Wilkes-Barre,	Pennsylvania,	in	the	United	States	of	America.	He	was	raised	as	a	first	generation	son	of	Jewish	immigrant	parents.	In	a	series	of	dialogues	for	the	Niels	Bohr	Library	and	Archives,	Bohm	(1986)	spoke	with	Maurice	Wilkins	about	his	childhood	being	a	challenging	time	in	his	life.	The	difficulties	were	mainly	related	to	his	mother,	coping	with	his	father,	and	with	life	in	general,	such	as	struggling	with	extreme	emotions,	seeing	the	whole	picture,	and	taking	responsibilities.	Although	he	had	a	better	relationship	with	his	mother	later	in	life,	as	a	boy	his	mother	could	not	take	care	of	him,	so	he	lived	with	his	father	and	brother.	Growing	up	as	a	Jew	in	a	non-Jewish	middle-class	neighbourhood	caused	tension	and	helped	him	realize	that	there	is	truth	in	both	communities.	As	Bohm	(1986)	shared	in	an	interview	with	Maurice	Wilkins:	I’m	sure	I	was	affected	by	my	father	…	to	question	the	limited	values	of	the	Jewish	community.	But	also	the	contrast	between	the	Jewish	community	which	was	a	bit	far	away	and	the	immediate	surroundings	of	the	people	I	was	with	all	the	time	…	we	lived		 54	surrounded	by	Polish	and	Irish	people	…	I	realized	that	the	Jewish	community	often	looked	down	on	the	Polish/Irish,	and	vice	versa,	and	the	Polish/Irish	had	a	poor	view	of	the	Jews	…	yes,	limited,	artificial,	middle	class.	You	know,	various	feelings,	narrow	and	sort	of	arbitrary	and	know	that	their	values	were	somewhat	arbitrary,	dogmatic	…	I	could	see	that	both	communities	were	criticizing	each	other	so	that	may	have	led	me	to	look,	to	take	a	stance	a	bit	beyond	that	…	I	had	some	ties	to	both	communities	and	I	could	see	some	truth	in	both	sets	of	criticisms	…	I	could	see	that	therefore	a	person	depended	very	much	on	the	community	he	happened	to	grow	up	in.	So	that	idea	was	somewhat	current	in	the	culture.	(Session	II,	para.	2–22)	Bohm’s	(2004)	lack	of	a	sense	of	belonging	to	the	Jewish	community	on	one	hand	and	to	the	community	he	grew	up	in	on	the	other,	in	addition	to	his	parents’	complicated	relationship,	may	have	influenced	his	understanding	of	dialogue,	which	he	described	as	a	“multi-faceted	process,	looking	well	beyond	typical	notions	of	conversational	parlance	and	exchange”	(p.	xv).	While	perceiving	dialogue,	not	as	a	negotiation	but	more	as	collective	pool	of	memories	and	histories,	Bohm	(1986)	offers	to	look	at	dialogue	as	an	open	space	in	which	feelings	and	thoughts	are	observed.	In	both	books,	On	Dialogue	(Bohm,	2004)	and	Unfolding	Meaning	(Bohm,	1985),	he	speaks	about	dialogue	as	an	environment	of	openness	in	which	it	is	not	simply	listening	or	responding	but	also	observing	individual’s	thoughts	and	becoming	“one	mind”	(Bohm,	2004,	pp.	36–37).	He	clarifies	this	by	breaking	it	into	“suspension”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	87),	“social	meditation”	(Bohm,	1985,	p.	111),	and	“one	mind”	(Bohm,	1985,	pp.	36–37),	in	which	people	observe	our	their	habits	enfolded	with	others	in	dialogue	and	happen	to	gain	some	insight,	establishing	some	sense	of	“one	body”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	36).	We	can	first	of	all	try	to	observe	our	own	habits	and	programs,	and	suspend	them	[then]	dialogue	would	be	a	kind	of	social	meditation	…	there	is	flow	back	and	forth—what	I	am	is	enfolded	in	you,	and	what	you	are	is	enfolded	in	me	…	therefore	instead	of	reflecting	it	within	myself,	I	reflect	it	in	the	dialogue;	we	reflect	in	dialogue.	(Bohm,	1985,	p.	111)		 55	If	we	can	all	listen	to	each	other’s	opinions,	and	suspend	them	without	judging	them,	and	your	opinion	is	on	the	same	basis	as	anyone	else’s,	then	we	all	have	“one	mind”	because	we	have	the	same	content—all	the	opinions,	all	the	assumptions.	At	that	moment	the	difference	is	secondary.	Then	you	have	in	some	sense	one	body,	one	mind.	It	does	not	overwhelm	the	individual.	There	is	no	conflict	in	the	fact	that	the	individual	does	not	agree	…	there	is	no	pressure	to	agree	or	disagree.	(Bohm,	2004,	pp.	36–37)	Before	continuing	with	unfolding	Bohm’s	(1985)	notion	of	dialogue,	there	are	several	relevant	anecdotes	from	Bohm’s	trajectory	that	I	believe	would	add	layers	to	this	exploration.	In	Bohm’s	(1986)	dialogues	with	Maurice	Wilkins,	for	example,	he	claims	that	as	a	child	he	was	curious	about	atomic	power,	which	led	him	to	study	this	topic	at	university.	Following	graduation	from	his	undergraduate	degree,	Bohm	moved	to	the	United	States	of	America,	where	he	completed	his	doctorate	at	the	University	of	California,	Berkeley	(Bohm,	1986).	During	World	War	II,	he	was	actively	involved	in	radical	political	groups,	including	the	Young	Communist	League	and	the	Committee	for	Peace	Mobilization	(Bohm,	1986).	This	activism	prevented	him	from	passing	security	clearances	of	the	Manhattan	Project,	which	many	of	his	physics	friends	from	Berkeley	joined	and	from	where	the	first	atomic	bomb	that	bombed	Hiroshima	and	Nagasaki	was	produced	(Bohm,	1986).	In	response	to	the	attention	he	received	from	the	Federal	Bureau	of	Investigation,	Bohm	moved	to	Brazil	and	taught	at	a	university	for	4	years,	where	he	wrote	his	book	Causality	and	Chance	in	Modern	Physics	(Bohm,	1984).	He	subsequently	moved	to	Israel	to	teach	and	met	his	wife	(Bohm,	1986).	Together	they	moved	to	the	United	Kingdom,	where	they	remained	for	the	rest	of	their	lives	(Bohm,	1986).	As	Lee	Nichol	(as	cited	in	Bohm,	2004)	writes	in	the	forward	of	Bohm’s	book	On	Dialogue,		[Bohm]	refused	to	place	or	to	draw	sharp	distinctions	between	the	individual,	collective,	and	cosmic	dimensions	of	humanity	…	dialogue	always	a	testing	ground	for	the	limits	of	assumed	knowledge—offers	the	possibility	of	an	entirely	new	order	of	communication	and	relationship	with	ourselves,	our	fellows,	and	the	world	we	inhabit.	(p.	xxvii)		 56	Therefore,	when	Bohm	(2004)	sets	components	for	dialogue,	he	embraces	its	inseparable	parts	such	as	the	nature	of	the	absolute—collective	re-presentation,	assumptions,	the	paradox	of	harmony—problem	versus	difficulty,	consciousness	and	thought,	and	fragmentation	within	the	whole.	Bohm	(2004)	suggests	that	before	a	group	starts	a	dialogue,	it	is	important	to	have	a	conversation	about	dialogue	(p.	6).	By	doing	so,	he	explained	that	participants	learn	where	each	one	comes	from	and	for	whom	each	of	the	participants	re-present.	This	way	of	conversing	may	allow	participants	to	recognize	their	“absolutely	necessary”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	26)	boundaries.	Bohm	explains	his	idea	of	absolutely	necessary	boundaries	as	a	departure	point	in	each	individual	for	coming	to	dialogue,	in	which	each	holds	ideas,	beliefs,	opinions,	and	assumptions	that	in	some	point	became	part	of	who	people	are	or	at	least	the	way	they	think	they	are.	Bohm	(2004)	explains	that	these	are	going	to	be	questioned	later	in	the	dialogue	by	asking,	“Is	it	absolutely	necessary?…	Maybe	it’s	not,	…	then	…	it	becomes	possible	to	let	that	conflict	go	and	to	explore	new	notions	of	what	is	necessary,	creatively	…	this	is	crucial”	(p.	26).	Those	absolutely	necessary	assumptions,	opinions,	and	beliefs	that	each	participant	arrives	into	the	dialogue	with	come	to	be	questioned	publicly	by	each	participant.	This	aspect	connects	to	Arendt’s	(1958)	understanding	of	the	importance	of	the	public	space	where	citizens	are	able	to	encounter	each	other	and	be	engaged	politically.	People	encounter	others	in	order	to	experience	a	new	beginning	as	in	birth.	Bohm	(2004)	claims	that	humans	come	to	dialogue	with	assumptions	based	on	or	related	to	the	group	they	affiliate	with	(religion,	nation,	community,	etc.).	These	assumptions	take	participants	away	from	dialogue	in	the	present	to	the	stories,	opinions,	and	assumptions	they	come	with	to	the	dialogue.	Doing	so,	people	“have	the	tendency	to	defend	their	assumptions	and	opinions	…	if	we	defend	opinions	…	we	are	not	going	to	be	able	to	have	a	dialogue.	And	we	are	often	unconsciously	defending	our	opinions”	(Bohm,	2004,	p	13).	Bohm	illustrates	his	point	by	paralleling	religion	and	science,	which	he	explains	are	similar	in	their	view	of	knowing	absolute	truth.	He	explained	that	there	is	no	way	to	bridge	these	divisions	between	truth	except	through	facing,	observing,	and	questioning	them:	So	it	is	clear	that	people	who	believe	that	they	are	arriving	at	any	kind	of	absolute	truth	can’t	make	a	dialogue,	not	even	among	themselves	…	so	we	can	see	that	there	is		 57	no	“road”	to	truth	…	in	…	dialogue	we	share	all	the	roads	…	therefore	we	come	to	the	“no	road.”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	44)	Thus,	Bohm	(2004)	states	that	society	is	based	on	shared	meaning,	that	is,	the	norms,	rules,	and	institutions	that	create	it.	In	many	ways	this	view	is	fragmented	so	when	people	enter	into	dialogue,	there	is	a	tendency	toward	thinking	through	incoherent	aspects	in	the	society	(Bohm,	2004,	pp.	32–33).	This	fragmented	view,	Bohm	argues,	connects	directly	to	people’s	thoughts	that	contain	different	presuppositions	and	block	movement	in	understanding	and	being	together	in	open	spaces	of	dialogue:	What	we	have	to	do	is	to	discover	these	presuppositions	and	get	rid	of	them—get	free	of	them.	I	don’t	think	that	we	can	establish	conditions	for	a	dialogue,	except	to	say	that	we	both	want	to	make	a	dialogue	…	giving	attention	also	to	what	is	maybe	getting	in	the	way,	then	we	should	have	the	dialogue.	(Bohm,	1985,	p.	37)	According	to	Bohm	(1985),	fragmentation	prevents	people	from	being	with	each	other	and	seeing	beyond	their	thoughts.	In	Unfolding	Meaning,	Bohm	(1985)	adds	the	ego	to	his	understanding	of	dialogue,	as	he	created	ties	between	fragmentation,	nature	of	absolute,	and	the	ego.	By	doing	so,	Bohm	(1985)	claims,	all	human	conflicts	arise	from	the	need	to	protect	the	ego	and	to	keep	its	interests.	This	attempt	to	protect	the	ego	brings	the	nature	of	the	absolute	to	action,	whereby	individuals	stand	for	and	represent	a	truth	that	becomes	inseparable	from	their	self-image,	that	is,	their	ego.	Bohm	(2004)	continues	by	arguing	that	fragmented	society	that	is	divided	into	groups	such	as	political,	religious,	ideological,	professional	and	so	on,	take	it	to	the	extreme	by	creating	a	“collective	ego”	(p.	149).	In	desiring	to	protect	its	interests,	the	collective	ego	becomes	supreme	over	others	and	not	open	to	discussion	or	criticism,	since	it	becomes	the	secure	basis	for	the	self	and	society	(Bohm,	1985).	The	security	gained	from	validating	the	collective	ego	offers	groups	of	people	with	similar	interests	“greater	power”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	66).	Bohm	(2004)	clarifies,	once	those	representations	gain	power	and	become	evidence	for	being	right,	as	if	it	was	a	“fact”	proven	by	many,	people	experience	constant	pressure	to	accept	particular	representations	and	to	experience	reality	this	way	(Bohm,	1985).	Bohm	elaborates	that	the	danger	in	representation	is	that	once	people	accept	one	representation,	there	is	a	tendency		 58	to	not	consider	its	misrepresentation	or	to	be	open	beyond	the	stand	they	represent.	So-called	facts	risk	becoming	fragmented;	when	“we	give	the	representation	the	value	of	independent	fact	…	we	are	able	to	take	‘facts’	which	have	very	little	value,	and	value	them	very	highly”	(Bohm,	1985,	p.	67).	Those	“facts”	limit	people’s	thoughts	by	creating,	not	passing,	borderlines	in	the	name	of	protecting	the	collective	representation.	Once	people	bring	those	thoughts	to	their	consciousness,	they	may	experience	the	possibilities	dialogue	offers.	Bohm	(2004)	links	this	understanding	of	people’s	consciousness	to	thoughts:	If	we	could	learn	to	see	thoughts	actually	producing	presentations	from	representations,	we	would	no	longer	be	fooled	by	it—it	would	be	like	seeing	the	trick	of	a	magician	…	many	worlds	are	possible—it	all	depends	on	representation,	especially	the	collective	representation.	To	make	a	“world”	takes	more	than	one	person,	and	therefore	the	collective	representation	is	the	key	…	the	real	change	is	the	change	of	collective	representations.	(p.	69)	Bohm	(2004)	argues	that	people’s	consciousness	of	their	thought	is	crucial	for	their	ability	to	be	in	dialogue.	He	continues	by	offering	the	idea	of	suspending.	To	suspend,	Bohm	explains,	does	not	mean	suppressing	but	observing.	In	the	beginning,	individuals	observe	the	thought,	which	allows	them	to	be	at	the	moment	with	the	need	to	take	action.	Bohm	(2004)	clarifies	that	there	is	movement	in	suspending	in	the	tension	with	the	action.	Therefore,	Bohm	(1985)	makes	the	claim	that	dialogue	would	be	“a	kind	of	social	meditation”	(p.	111).	Although	the	term	he	uses	sounds	as	if	he	offers	a	solution	towards	harmony,	he	emphasizes	that	the	process	of	dialogue	is	ongoing,	in	which	there	is	no	truth	to	uncover:	What	I	have	said	about	all	of	this	is	a	proposal	also	into	harmony.	But	just	to	say	I	am	not	putting	it	as	a	final	truth,	but	rather	it’s	the	best	thing	I	can	see	for	the	time.	And	that	might	well	be	subject	to	change.	We	will	never	get	a	final—I	can’t	see	us	getting	a	final	solution	to	this	question.	The	dialectical	process	will	go	on.	Whatever	we	say,	it	will	not	be	complete.	And	therefore	it	will	go	on	to	its	opposite	eventually.	Any	attempt	to	say	something	about	everything	will	inevitably	produce	opposites.	(Bohm,	1986,	Session	12,	para.	290)		 59	In	this	study,	I	connected	with	specific	dimensions	of	Bohm’s	(1985)	ideas,	which	indicated,	when	in	dialogue,	it	is	important	to	recognize	the	absolutely	necessity	of	boundaries	of	participants	in	terms	of	beliefs,	opinions,	assumptions,	and	ideas	in	general.	Thus,	consciousness	of	people’s	individual	and	collective	thoughts	is	crucial	for	their	ability	to	be	in	dialogue.	Dialogue	establishes	an	environment	of	openness	in	which	one	is	not	simply	listening	or	responding	but	also	observing	individuals’	thoughts,	gaining	insight,	and	becoming	one	mind,	while	simultaneously	suspending	thoughts,	which	makes	dialogue	a	social	meditation.	Biesta.	As	Biesta	(2006)	puts	it,	the	commitment	to	an	ongoing	process	of	undoing	and	building	as	democratic	practice	is	crucial	for	the	existence	of	democracy.	Biesta’s	(2006)	building	and	the	undoing	are	similar	to	the	unfinishedness	Freire	(1998)	offers.	This	understanding	of	unfinishedness	derives	from	educational	concerns	and	questions,	that	is,	holding	a	practical	view	towards	education,	teaching,	and	the	philosophy	of	education,	as	Biesta	(2006,	2012b)	offers.	Biesta	(2006)	came	to	education	from	a	practical	perspective,	thus	he	referred	to	himself	as	an	educationalist.	Biesta	(2015a)	declares	that	his	work	“falls	within	four	broad	domains:	the	theory	and	philosophy	of	education;	research	on	civic	learning	in	informal	settings;	critical	policy	analysis;	and	the	theory	and	philosophy	of	educational	and	social	research”	(para.	5).	Biesta’s	(2012b)	contribution	within	those	domains	brings	understanding	to	educational	processes	and	practices,	including	the	gift	of	teaching,	being	taught,	coming	into	the	world,	experiencing	freedom,	and	becoming	fully	human.	This	was	followed,	by	an	interest	in	educational	practices,	that	is,	in	engaging	in	the	dialogue	in	teaching,	creating	spaces	of	openness	for	plurality	and	difference,	commitment	to	an	ongoing	process	of	building	and	undoing	as	democratic	practice,	and	connecting	with	the	world	in	the	world.		To	learn	about	Biesta’s	ideas	in	historical	and	personal	context,	I	corresponded	with	him	directly	on	March	22,	2013;	he	shared	the	following	information	in	these	communications.	Biesta	was	born	in	Rotterdam	in	the	Netherlands,	as	a	child	of	the	post-war	generation	following	World	War	II.	Perhaps	growing	up	in	an	empty	city	that	was	completely	destroyed	in	the	war,	where	memories	of	the	war	were	vividly	present,	influenced	his	exploration	of	coming	into	and	engaging	in	the	world	for	the	sake	of	freedom		 60	and	being	fully	human.	Early	in	his	life	he	was	a	physics	teacher	in	higher	vocational	health	education.	Alongside	teaching,	he	studied	two	master’s	programs:	in	1987,	he	studied	theory	and	history	of	education	from	Leiden	University	and,	in	1989,	philosophy	of	the	social	sciences	from	Erasmus	University	in	Rotterdam.	Biesta,	married	and	with	four	children,	returned	in	1992	to	Leiden	University	for	his	doctoral	studies	on	John	Dewey’s	work.	Throughout	his	career,	Biesta	has	lived	and	worked	in	different	locations	and	universities,	mostly	within	Europe.	Currently	Biesta	is	a	professor	of	public	education	at	Maynooth	University,	Ireland;	NIVOZ	professor	for	education	at	the	University	of	Humanistic	Studies,	The	Netherlands;	and	a	visiting	professor	at	the	NLA	University	College	&	University	of	Agder,	Norway	(Biesta,	n.d.).	Although	Biesta	has	published	extensively,	including	34	books	authored,	co-authored,	edited,	and	co-edited,	dozens	of	chapters,	and	numerous	articles,	I	chose	to	focus	on	a	few	of	his	writings	in	which	he	crystallizes	his	unique	voice	in	education,	philosophy,	and	beyond;	these	include	Beyond	Learning	(Biesta,	2006),	Making	Sense	of	Education	(Biesta,	2012b),	his	chapter	“‘Mind	the	Gap!’:	Communication	and	Educational	Relation”	(Biesta,	2004)	in	the	book	No	Education	Without	Relation	(Bingham	&	Sidorkin,	2004),	and	his	articles,	“Receiving	the	Gift	of	Teaching:	From	‘Learning	From’	to	‘Being	Taught	By’”	(Biesta,	2013a)	as	well	as	“The	Educational	Significance	of	the	Experience	of	Resistance:	Schooling	and	the	Dialogue	between	Child	and	World”	(Biesta,	2012a).	Also	his	writings,	Good	Education	in	an	Age	of	Measurement:	Ethics,	Politics,	Democracy	(Biesta,	2010),	and	the	Beautiful	Risk	of	Education	(Biesta,	2014),	as	well	as	his	talk	titled	“Being	at	Home	in	the	World”	(Biesta,	2015b)	added	to	my	understanding	of	his	understanding	and	exploration	of	dialogue.	Biesta	explores	the	notion	of	taking	risks	in	education	by	asking	difficult	questions	as	a	fundamental	quality	of	education,	in	which	the	process	of	dialogue	takes	place.	As	Biesta	(2012a)	argues	in	“The	Educational	Significance	of	the	Experience	of	Resistance:	Schooling	and	the	Dialogue	Between	Child	and	World,”	A	dialogue	is	an	ongoing	process	and	an	ongoing	challenge,	also	because	the	question	whether	justice	is	done	to	all	parties	involved	poses	itself	again	and	again.	The	challenge	for	education,	therefore,	is	to	stay	in	[the]	dialogue	and	to	acknowledge	that		 61	the	difficulty	of	staying	in	this	place	is	an	essential	dimension	of	what	it	means	to	engage	with	and	exist	in	the	world.	(p.	96)	There	are	of	course	risks	involved	in	such	dialogue,	for	teachers	as	well	as	students,	by	being	asked	uncomfortable	and	difficult	questions	and	by	experiencing	the	risk	of	facing	an	inconvenient	truth	(Biesta,	2006),	of	coming	into	the	world	through	being	in	dialogue	and	experiencing	uniqueness	and	plurality,	not	sameness	and	identity,	which	is	crucial	for	democratic	existence	(Biesta,	2006).	In	the	following	excerpt,	he	urges	people	to	pay	attention	to	the	current	trend:	We	become	immunized	for	the	call	of	the	other,	where	we	put	up	our	fences,	close	our	eyes	and	ears—and	eradicate	the	very	risk	of	being	interrupted	by	the	other,	the	risk	of	being	addressed	by	the	other,	of	being	put	into	question	by	the	other	…	That	is	why	the	risk	of	education—what	I	tend	to	call	the	beautiful	risk	of	education—is	so	very	important;	but	I	am	aware	that	it	is	not	fashionable	to	argue	that	education	ought	to	be	risky.	(Biesta,	2012a,	p.	112)	Biesta	(2004)	locates	this	risk	of	education	in	the	gap	between	teachers	and	students,	where	their	relationship	takes	place.	He	argues	that	it	is	within	this	gap	that	interactions	and	difficult	questions	can	be	asked	(Biesta,	2004).	This	gap	is	necessary	for	the	opportunity	of	agency	in	which	the	agent–subject	could	be	liberated	or	emancipated	by	the	teacher	(Biesta,	2004).	Hence,	Biesta	(2006)	claims	that	education	is	the	space	in	which	students	have	opportunities	to	encounter	“what	is	different,	strange,	and	other,	and	…	[where]	our	students	…	[can]	respond,	to	find	their	own	voice,	their	own	way	of	speaking	…	[where]	students	begin	to	find	their	own,	responsive	and	responsible	voice”	(p.	69).	Biesta	(2006)	emphasizes	the	importance	of	encountering	otherness,	which	reacts	to	people’s	initiatives	from	where	they	are	able	to	act	and	allow	the	irreplaceable	voice	within	them	to	be	born—“that	action	is	never	possible	without	plurality”	(p.	134).	Biesta	(2006)	continues	by	arguing	that	not	all	encounters	enable	action,	that	is,	situations	in	which	we	or	others	try	to	control	and	by	doing	so	prevent	others	to	begin,	hence,	“we	cannot	come	into	the	world	[and]	subjectivity	is	not	a	possibility”	(p.	135).	In	that	space,	dialogue	cannot	be	born	into	the	world.	The	art	of	teaching,	Biesta	(2006)	states,	is	located	in	the	gap	and	holds	the		 62	tension	between	building	and	its	undoing.	According	to	Biesta	(2010,	2014),	teaching	also	holds	three	domains	of	purpose:	(a)	socialization—exploring	the	identity	of	“who	am	I,”	inviting	the	student	to	be	engaged	with	culture;	(b)	subjectification—delving	into	the	subjectness	of	“how	am	I,”	being	responsible,	grownup,	and	compassionate;	and	(c)	qualification—providing	the	knowledge,	skills,	understanding,	dispositions,	and	forms	of	judgement,	which	are	needed	in	preparation	for	modern	or	Western	civilisation,	that	is,	preparing	of	the	workforce	in	contribution	to	economic	growth.	According	to	Biesta	(2009b,	2015b),	although	qualification	seems	to	be	the	main	function	of	education,	he	claims	that	it	is	the	least	important	among	these	three.	However,	what	matters	a	lot	to	Biesta	(2010,	2014)	are	the	first	two	purposes	and	how	teaching	and	education	become	lost	in	the	transformation	of	education	into	administrative	qualification	system.	Teaching	is	not	a	task	that	can	be	pre-programmed	by	creating	learning	environments;	rather,	it	is	an	ongoing	task	in	which	teachers	are	asked	to	keep	the	movement	in	tension:	I	want	to	call	a	double	duty	…	to	be	committed	to	both	spaces	and	events,	to	both	design	and	the	transgression	of	design,	to	both	building	and	its	undoing	…	as	distinguished	from	socialization,	that	is,	from	the	insertion	of	newcomers	into	an	existing	order,	entails	a	responsibility	for	the	coming	into	the	world	of	unique,	singular	beings.	(Biesta,	2006,	p.	115)	Thus,	the	following	presents	educational	questions	that	arise	for	Biesta	(2012b)	by	looking	at	the	notion	of	what	teaching	is:	What	does	it	mean	to	be	taught,	and	what	is	it	that	we	give	authority	to?	“To	receive	the	gift	of	teaching,”	Biesta	(2012b)	argues,	we	“give	a	place	to	inconvenient	truths	and	difficult	knowledge	…	where	we	give	authority	to	the	teaching	we	receive”	(p.	9).	According	to	Biesta	(2012b),	teaching	is	an	act	of	gift	giving	(by	the	teacher)	and	actively	receiving	(by	the	students),	in	which	teachers	are	not	merely	resources	of	learning	but	also	take	the	educational	responsibility	of	encountering	plurality	and	difference	and	in	which	students	are	willing	to	be	open	to	receiving,	giving	authority,	and	to	interrupting	their	subjective	truth.	As	Biesta	(2012b)	elaborates,	This	is	a	story	where	teachers	are	not	disposable	and	dispensable	resources	of	learning,	but	where	they	have	something	to	give,	where	they	do	not	shy	away	from		 63	difficult	questions	and	inconvenient	truths,	and	where	they	work	actively	and	consistently	on	the	distinction	between	desired	and	what	is	desirable,	so	as	to	explore	what	it	is	that	should	have	authority	in	our	lives.	(p.	11)	According	to	Biesta	(2012a),	although	both	teaching	and	receiving	the	gift	of	teaching	are	concerned	with	gaining	permission	(given	by	students)	for	the	authority	(the	teachers)	to	interact	with	individuals’	subjective	truth,	teaching	has	a	greater	responsibility	to	lead	students	to	the	world	and	to	make	the	encounter	between	them	possible.	Based	on	my	personal	interpretation,	Biesta’s	(2012a)	ideas	of	education	may	translate	into	adult	learning	as	well	as	education	with	younger	people,	since	his	understanding	is	existential	more	than	pedagogical	or	knowledge	based.	The	encounter	between	students	and	the	world	involves	frustration	and	difficulties;	Biesta	(2012a)	warns	that	a	lack	of	leading	might	mislead	students	away	from	engaging	with	resistance	to	responding	with	withdrawal.	Thus, according	to	Biesta	(2009a),	dialogue	means	remaining	in	the	middle	ground	and	continuing	to	engage	with	reality’s	interruptions	of	the	self	and	its	desires.	Therefore,	Biesta	(2012a)	suggests	placing	the	world	in	the	centre,	making	education	world-centred,	in	which	“the	dialogue	between	child	and	world	…	[would	be]	…	dialogical	encounter	with	…	resistance”	(p.	96).	The	resistance,	Biesta	(2012a)	continues,	is	where	teaching	begins:	Educational	“work”	only	really	begins	with	the	experience	of	resistance.	It	is	after	all	only	when	children	or	students	resist	that	they	appear	as	subjects	in	the	educational	relationship	rather	than	as	(willing)	objects	of	educational	interventions	…	without	resistance	education	is	nothing	more	than	the	monologue	of	the	teacher.	(p.	97)	The	resistance	Biesta	(2006)	refers	to	could	be	considered	an	invitation	for	being	in	dialogue.	He	explained	that	educational	relationship	holds	much	more	responsibility	than	dealing	with	objects	of	educational	intervention.	The	dialogue	begins	when	the	teacher’s	monologue	ends.	Biesta	(2006)	promotes	the	idea	that	teachers	should	have	greater	responsibility	for	their	students’	engagement	in	the	world.	At	the	same	time	he	claims	that	it	is	problematic	and	even	unrealistic	to	assume	that	teachers	or	schools	could	be	responsible	for	students’	preparation	for	democracy.	However,	he	suggests,	“the		 64	educational	responsibility	today	has	to	do	with	the	‘creation’	of	the	worldly	space,	a	space	of	plurality	and	difference,	a	space	where	freedom	can	appear	and	where	singular,	unique	individuals	can	come	into	the	world”	(Biesta,	2006,	p.	100).	Biesta	(2006)	looks	at	how	openness	towards	different	ways	of	being	human	(i.e.,	otherness)	is	a	democratic	act	in	which	teachers	take	responsibility	toward	a	more	democratic	society.	Therefore,	Biesta	(2006)	asserts,	“The	most	important	question	today	is	how	we	can	respond	responsibly	to,	and	how	we	can	live	peacefully	with	what	and	with	whom	is	other”	(p.	15).	Biesta	(2006)	further	states,	“Democracy	itself	is,	after	all,	a	commitment	to	a	world	of	plurality	and	difference,	a	commitment	to	a	world	where	freedom	can	appear”	(p.	151).	This	implies	that,	for	Biesta	(2006),	being	democratic	means	being	open	to	who	is	different	from	me,	that	is,	anyone	but	me.	This	freedom	to	be	different	means	that	each	human	has	to	find	his	or	her	own	voice,	since	no	one	can	do	this	for	another.	Biesta	(2006)	argues,	“It	is	this	very	way	of	speaking	that	constitutes	me	as	a	unique	individual—as	me,	and	no	one	else”	(p.	64).	In	a	way,	Biesta	claims	freedom	is	a	concept	that	requires	everyone	to	determine	what	is	true	for	him	or	herself,	that	is,	the	individual’s	subjective	existential	truth.	This	irreplaceable	truth	speaks	to	uniqueness	in	which	one’s	voice	cannot	be	replaced	by	another’s,	allowing	individual	subjectivity	to	come	into	the	world.	In	his	work,	Biesta	(2006)	invites	people	to	think	through	the	questions	of	when,	how,	and	where	the	human	subject	comes	into	presence,	that	is,	being	in	dialogue	with	the	world	in	the	world.	Biesta	(2006)	suggests,	It	is	in	and	through	the	ways	in	which	we	respond	to	the	other,	to	the	otherness	of	the	other,	to	what	is	strange	and	different	to	us	–	and	to	respond	means	to	be	responsive	and	take	responsibility	–	that	we	come	into	the	world	as	unique,	singular	beings.	(p.	69)	The	learning	at	stake	here	is	learning	from	and	learning	about	what	it	means	to	act,	to	come	into	the	world,	to	confront	otherness	and	difference	in	relation	to	one’s	own	beginning.	To	understand	what	it	means	to	be	a	subject	also	involves	learning	from	those	situations	in	which	one	has	not	been	able	to	come	into	the	world,	in	which	one	has	experienced	for	oneself	what	it	means	not	to	be	able	to	act.	(p.	142)		 65	Biesta	(2006)	invites	the	uniqueness	of	each	human	in	being	born	and	celebrated	in	the	world.	This	invitation	is	not	simple.	Biesta	(2006)	claims	that	embracing	responsibility	in	life	is	not	necessarily	a	pleasant	act:		It	can	be	difficult	and	painful	to	come	into	the	world,	to	take	upon	us	the	responsibility	that	is	waiting	for	us,	to	expose	ourselves	to	what	is	other	and	different.	Yet	this	is	what	makes	us	unique	and,	in	a	certain	sense,	human.	(p.	71)	In	this	study,	I	connected	with	Biesta’s	(2006)	dimensions	of	the	importance	of	encountering	otherness	and	allowing	the	irreplaceable	voice	within	to	be	born.	This	included	coming	into	the	world	through	being	in	dialogue	and	experiencing	uniqueness,	plurality,	resistance,	desires,	and	facing	the	risk	of	encountering	an	inconvenient	truth.	Dialogue	is	an	ongoing	process	and	challenge	with	the	difficulty	of	staying,	engaging,	and	remaining	in	the	middle	ground	between	the	two	far	ends	of	self-destruction	(withdrawal)	or	destroying	the	world	(resistance).	Being	in	the	middle	ground	means	experiencing	grownupness.	Dialogue	is	crucial	for	democratic	existence,	while	being	democratic	means	being	open	to	who	is	different	from	me,	that	is,	anyone	but	me.	To	close,	I	have	attempted	to	discuss	encounters	with	the	other	through	dialogue	from	the	perspectives	of	these	five	thinkers.	Many	concepts	have	arisen	in	the	process,	including	fragmentation	within	the	whole,	the	role	of	language	in	communication	and	dialogue,	the	importance	of	encountering	others	in	democracy,	and	the	relation	between	life	experience	and	the	thinker’s	work.	As	Bohm	(2004)	claims,	these	fragments	belong	together	to	the	whole	and	should	not	be	broken	into	separate	entities	(p.	56),	so	it	is	important	to	consider	each	thinker's	writing	as	separate	entities	located	in	relation	to	each	other	according	to	personal,	physical,	historical,	political,	and	social	contexts.	Perhaps	an	interesting	intersection	in	this	exploration	would	be	to	consider	each	thinker	as	a	limited	but	an	important	representation	of	her	or	his	time	in	history.	For	instance,	Biesta’s	(2006)	concept	of	coming	into	the	world	within	the	social	and	economic	context	in	which	he	writes	(p.	115),	that	is,	the	age	of	measurement	serving	neoliberal	agendas	(Biesta,	2016).	Reading	Biesta’s	(2006)	work	in	this	context,	as	Arendt	(1958)	would	likely	claim,	leads	to	experiences	of	plurality	and	difference	in	which	his	unique	voice	does	not	have	any	option		 66	than	to	be	born,	to	begin,	and	to	take	action	in	the	world,	allowing	the	irreplaceable	voice	within	him,	as	it	does	within	each	piece,	to	arise	in	the	name	of	subjectivity.		For	the	use	of	boundaries,	an	interesting	comparison	could	be	made	between	Bohm’s	(2004)	dispositions	towards	boundaries	in	dialogue	in	contrast	to	Bakhtin’s	(1965)	stance.	While	Bohm	(2004)	perceives	the	necessity	of	boundaries	as	a	set	up	for	dialogue,	Bakhtin	(1965)	offers	the	concept	of	carnival	in	order	to	question	boundaries	and	limitations.		Looking	at	the	concept	of	encountering	the	other	within	the	works	of	Buber	(1965,	1996),	Arendt	(1951,	1954,	1958,	1963),	Bohm	(1951,	1980,	1984,	1985,	1986,	2004),	and	Biesta	(2001,	2004,	2006)	also	reveals	remarkable	similarities	that	leads	one	to	question—whether	each	thinker	was	aware	of	his	or	her	colleagues’	work	and	worked	alongside	the	previous	philosophers.	Although	each	of	these	thinkers	lived	in	different	times,	historical	eras,	and	physical	locations,	in	my	understanding,	the	concept	of	dialogue,	which	each	thinker	developed,	leads	to	the	notion	of	unfinishedness	of	Freire	(1998),	the	ongoing	open-ended	concept	of	Bohm	(1985),	the	ongoing	process	of	Biesta	(2012a,	2018),	and	Buber’s	(1996)	concept	of	the	love	of	the	world	and	the	desire	to	be	born	into	it.	Ferguson	(2012)	claims	the	common	deposition	by	all	those	thinkers	is	as	follows:		Democracy	involves	acting	together	with	people	we	do	not	know,	to	pursue	goals	we	cannot	know	in	advance	that	we	share,	in	the	hope	of	a	future	we	cannot	control.	This	is	sharing	democracy	in	a	world	inhabited	by	plural	others.	(p.	8)	That	is,	living	in	democracy	asks	people	to	stay	open	to	the	unknown	and	invite	others	into	this	living.	In	my	understanding,	while	democracy	becomes	an	integral	aspect	of	education	and	moves	away	from	being	a	subject	that	has	been	taught,	the	experience	of	power	and	respect	take	on	a	different	lived	flavour.	As	Jonothan	Neelands	(2009)	wrote	in	his	field	notes:	The	principles	of	the	ensemble,	in	both	the	educational	and	professional	spheres	require	the	uncrowning	and	distribution	of	the	power	of	the	director/teacher,	a	mutual	respect	amongst	the	players,	a	shared	commitment	to	truth,	a	sense	of	the		 67	intrinsic	value	of	theatre	making,	a	shared	absorption	in	the	artistic	process	of	dialogic	and	social	meaning	making.	(p.	183)	Neelands	(2009)	expresses	that	accepting	dialogic	and	democratic	principles	of	giving	up	the	power	and	control	might	invite	mutual	respect	and	intrinsic	meaning	making	together	and	apart.	That	being	said,	I	suggest	that	dialogue	holds	the	interconnected	ideas	of	a	shared	commitment	of	respecting	whatever	one	brings	into	the	process	of	meaning	making	and	the	creation	of	meaning	itself.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	keep	this	process	as	unfinished	and	in	the	making,	since	dialogue	is	less	about	reaching	a	conclusion	and	more	about	the	process	of	being	with	and	holding	space.	As	Ellsworth	(2005)	suggests,		The	experience	of	knowledge	in	the	making	is	also	the	experience	of	ourselves	in	the	making	…	we	must	look	for	the	experiences	of	the	learning	self	in	what	comes	before	the	self	and	what	cannot	be	reduced	to	the	self	who	learns.	(p.	2)	With	this	claim	Ellsworth	(2005)	offers	the	understanding	that	knowledge	is	in	the	making	as	opposed	to	knowledge	as	an	object.	As	Freire	(1998)	adds	that	the	notion	of	process	is	the	unfinishedness:	“This	unfinishedness	is	essential	to	our	human	condition.	Whenever	there	is	life,	there	is	unfinishedness”	(p.	52).	The	unfinishedness	is	needed,	and	it	is	my	belief	that	the	artistic	process	may	help	to	work	through	and	with	this	unfinishedness.	Thus,	the	nature	of	an	artistic	process,	in	which	is	an	ongoing	process	that	is	not	product-oriented	process,	might	be	a	supportive	tool	in	a	dialogic	process.	Neelands	discussed	this	in	his	lecture	titled,	Having	an	Excellent	Time,	published	on	March	12,	2008:	A	process	and	product	famously	represent	a	frontline	between	those	who	think	that	taking	part	in	any	kind	of	artistic	is	more	important	than	the	value	of	what	has	produced.…	There	is	no	such	thing	a	product	actually;	there	is	only	an	ongoing	process.	If	anything,	there	is	fear	that	if	there	is	something	called	a	product,	the	performance	that	might	be	nothing	that	follows	that.	You	know,	what	would	be	next?	What	would	come	next?	….	the	play,	the	performance,	the	event,	the	festival,	are	only	staging	posts	in	that	excellent	time	which	they	want	to	continue.	(2:57) 	 68	Drawing	from	Neelands	(2008,	2009),	the	artistic	contribution	has	a	unique	quality	of	an	unfinishedness	process,	which	is	democratic	and	carries	a	transformative	possibility.	I	found	I	needed	to	unpack	the	intersection	of	the	following	seminal	works—Bakhtin’s	(1982)	notion	of	language	as	an	inherently	unfinalizable	dialogic	process,	which	is	always	incomplete	and	in	the	stage	of	becoming;	Biesta’s	(2006)	notion	of	the	location	of	teaching,	that	is,	the	gap	in	which	the	tension	between	building	and	undoing	exists;	Bohm’s	(1986)	claim	that	there	is	a	need	of	open	space	in	which	feelings	and	thoughts	are	observed	for	dialogue	to	happen;	Arendt’s	(1954)	notion	of	dialogue,	which	offers	a	complex	experience	of	the	human	condition,	while	the	need	of	public	space	for	human	to	encounter	one	another	and	experience	plurality;	and	Buber’s	(1996)	concern	with	people	yearning	for	relation—offers	the	complexity	and	richness	that	dialogue	might	offer	to	those	who	would	choose	to	stay	in	the	tension,	which	Biesta	(2015b)	refers	to	as	staying	engaged	in	the	world	without	destroying	nor	withdrawing	from	the	world.		Artistic	Socially	Engaged	Collaboration	The	attempt	to	define	what	artistic	collaboration	means	in	the	context	of	this	study	is	far	from	a	simple	endeavour.	However,	the	concept	of	an	ongoing	process	of	knowledge	making	and	risk	taking	appears	to	be	an	essential	component	in	artistic	collaboration	in	which	community	building	and	art	making	together	invite	participants	to	push	their	own	levels	of	comfort	(Moonney,	2013).	The	artistic	component	could	also	be	named	social	practice,	while	it	offers	space	for	socially	engaged	participants.	The	use	of	the	term	artistic	process	in	this	study	is	used	in	semantic,	dialogic,	and	embodied	ways.	Adams	and	Owen	(2016)	elaborate	by	saying:	Critical	creativity	is	in	many	ways	similar	to	Gielen’s	(2013)	concept	of	‘vertical	creation’,	in	which	he	articulates	the	idea	of	creativity	…	criticism	in	the	form	of	artistic	and	social	critique	is	perhaps	the	single	most	important	feature	of	the	concept,	because	it	enables	creative	acts	and	events	to	be	fully	engaged	with	the	society	and	culture	within	which	they	are	formed,	a	dialectic	in	which	new	political,	social	and	artistic	ideas	may	emerge.	Without	this	fundamental	component	creativity	can	only	ever	be	a	pastiche	of	itself,	anodyne	and	decorative	and	devoid	of	political	potency.		 69	Creativity	without	its	edge	is	little	more	than	a	decorative	social	activity	that	can	be	colonised	and	utilised	for	any	political	or	ideological	ends.		The	idea	in	this	study	is	to	invite	critical	creativity	as	a	platform	for	the	juxtaposition	of	democracy,	dialectic	engagement,	and	collaborative	cooking	as	an	artistic	social	engagement	in	democratic	education.	The	term	critical	creativity	offers	an	extra	layer,	offered	beyond	the	artistic	process.	This	invitation	to	experience	critical	creativity	in	a	socially	engaged	setting	made	the	difference	between	the	regular	gatherings	among	Windsor	House	staff	and	those	that	occurred	during	this	study.	The	difference	was	manifested	in	new	metaphors	and	rethinking	familiar	understandings	regarding	dialogue	within	democratic	school	and	democratic	education	at	large.	 In	this	study,	I	drew	inspiration	from	the	work	of	the	artist	Rirkrit	Tiravanija	(as	cited	in	Studio	Bandana	TV,	2011),	who	sees	artistic	processes	as	an	opportunity	to	interact	and	collaborate,	a	chance	for	other	things	to	happen	outside	of	the	self,	and	a	way	to	deal	with	differences.	In	claiming	these	things,	Tiravanija	offers	a	different	way	of	looking	at	artistic	processes,	one	in	which	art	is	viewed	not	only	as	a	process	that	holds	an	aesthetic	value	in	a	physical	object	or	event,	but	also	as	a	way	to	offer	a	multisensory	experience,	that	may	involve	taste,	touch,	smell,	sight,	and	sound.	This	process	may	lead	to	new	insights.	Connecting	Tiravanija’s	perspective	to	what	I	discussed	earlier	in	this	chapter,	regarding	the	five	thinkers’	understandings	of	encountering	the	other	through	dialogue,	makes	it	clear	that	the	artistic	component	in	dialogue	is	not	optional	but	necessary	in	terms	of	embodiment.		Tiravanija	(as	cited	in	QAGOMA,	2010)	also	brings	the	communal	aspect	in	art-making	in	relation	to	food	making	and	eating	together.	He	cooks	food	for	people	who	come	to	the	art	gallery.	By	doing	so	he	transforms	them	from	viewers	into	participants.	Tiravanija	adds	that	in	order	to	bring	life	to	the	object	you	need	to	use	it,	which	is	why	he	uses	cooking	as	a	platform	to	bring	people	together	and	find	meaning	through	usage	and	process.	I	located	this	study	in	his	terms,	in	order	to	bring	life	to	the	theory	and	philosophy	of	democratic	education;	as	such,	the	Windsor	House	staff	and	I	came	together	to	cook,	eat,	and	converse	while	finding	and	creating	meaning	through	process.	I	found	it	inspiring	to		 70	locate	more	artistic	socially	engaged	collaborations	like	Tiravanija,	such	as	the	semi-improvised	comic	celebration	by	New	Zealand's	Indian	Ink	Theatre	Company	called	Mrs.	Krishna’s	Party	(The	Cultch,	n.d.).	This	theatrical	event	included	a	storyline,	the	audience’s	participation,	dancing,	music,	and	laughter.	For	the	feast,	the	main	actor	cooks	daal	for	everyone	with	some	help	from	audience,	who	helped	with	adding	cans	of	food	and	stirring	the	ingredients	(Wasserman,	2019).	The	cooking	added	a	rich	sensational	feel,	spiced	up	with	turmeric,	cumin,	and	garam	masala.		Although	it	is	common	to	think	of	art	in	terms	of	the	primary	forms	of	fine	art,	such	as	poetry,	dance,	music,	prose,	painting,	architecture,	and	sculpture,	in	this	study,	art	is	about	the	articulation	of	understanding	and	meaning	in	a	semantic	space.	The	art	of	creating	meaning	in	collaboration	while	creating	food	together	includes	all	senses.	As	Binkley	(1977)	elaborates,		One	does	not	necessarily	have	to	think	of	art	in	terms	of	aesthetic	value	–whilst	a	lot	of	‘art	has	chosen	to	articulate	in	the	medium	of	an	aesthetic	space’,	there	is	‘no	a	priori	reason	why	art	must	confine	itself	to	the	creation	of	aesthetic	objects.	It	might	opt	for	articulation	in	a	semantic	space	instead	of	an	aesthetic	one	so	that	artistic	meaning	is	not	embodied	in	a	physical	object	or	event.	(p.	273)	Binkley’s	notion	of	art	and	artistic	meaning	thus	presents	the	complexity	of	such	space	and	invite	creation	of	new	meaning.		In	seeking	to	convey	artistic	collaboration,	questions	regarding	consensus	and	togetherness	arise.	Many	tend	to	romanticize	collaborative	processes	in	the	name	of	togetherness.	Collaboration	may	create	a	shared	experience	in	which	the	process	of	exchanging	ideas	informs	those	involved.	However,	while	coming	to	explore	artistic	collaboration,	radical	and	difficult	questions	come	into	play.	Ethical	questions	of	trust,	ego,	relationship,	language,	community,	and	communication	may	influence	the	collaboration	process.	As	Rishma	Dunlop	(2002)	suggests:	Our	writing	together	took	us	to	a	location	where	the	possibility	of	the	ethical	moment	was	contained	in	the	exchanges	and	dialogues	between	us	as	individuals.	This	ethical		 71	moment	then	extends	its	possibility	outwards	to	public	and	collective	realms.	It	may	not	have	occurred	with	consensus	at	all	times,	however,	no	community	worth	building	is	devoid	of	struggle	or	difficult	knowing.	The	challenge	of	collaboration	asked	us	to	acknowledge	we	were	not	experts	at	this.	As	Nicola	Doughty	wrote:	“There	is	not	an	expert	among	us	in	this	process	of	collaboration.	Just	open	hands,	open	hearts	…	stumbling.	Together.”	We	were	laying	new	ground.	Terra	nuova.	Feeling	our	way,	falteringly,	disrupting	academic	ground.	(July	11,	2002	section,	para.	6)	Dunlop	(2002)	provides	highly	insightful	accounts	of	what	is	important	in	the	context	of	artistic	collaboration.	One	includes	the	exchanges	and	dialogues	that	carry	the	ethical	moment	of	moving	from	the	individual	to	the	collective	and	public.	An	ethical	moment	can	be	defined	as	encountering	otherness	while	considering	possibilities	within	a	trusting	relationship	in	which	what	is	ethical	for	one	comes	into	question.	In	this	ethical	moment,	participants	allow	others	to	be	part	of	their	creation	and,	even	further,	allow	others	to	influence	it	and	themselves,	knowing	that	it	may	be	changed.	A	second	idea	Dunlop	highlighted	is	the	difficult	knowing,	in	which	collaborators	do	not	agree	and	challenge	each	other	towards	new	beginnings.	Dunlop	encourages	people	to	invite	challenges	and	let	go	of	a	consensus	mindset.	A	third	is	the	notion	of	experts,	in	which	participants	in	artistic	collaboration	are	asked	to	come	with	open	hands	and	hearts,	as	no	one	is	an	expert.	Those	three	main	concepts	from	Dunlop	connect	to	Biesta’s	(2015c)	call	to	treat	students	as	people	who	deserve	to	be	challenged.	Biesta	(2015c)	suggests	schools	should	stop	treating	students	as	consumers	who	come	to	the	‘school	shop,’	and	instead	offer	them	encounters	with	difficult	knowing,	as	Dunlop	suggests,	that	is	beyond	their	comfort	zone	(Biesta,	2015c).	Biesta	(2015)	elaborates:	Is	it	indeed	a	good	idea	to	treat	students	as	customers	and	give	them	what	they	want?	Does	this	give	them	a	much	needed	‘voice’	in	the	educational	process	and	does	it	therefore	enhance	the	overall	quality	of	the	educational	endeavour?…	We	go	to	school,	not	to	get	what	we	already	know	that	we	want,	but	because	we	want	to	receive	an	education.	Here,	we	would	expect	teachers	not	just	to	give	students	what	they	know	they	want	or	say	they	want	or	are	able	to	identify	as	what	they	want,	but	to	move	them	beyond	what	they	already	know	that	they	want.	We	want	teachers	to	open	up	new		 72	vistas,	new	opportunities,	and	help	children	and	young	people	to	interrogate	whether	what	they	say	they	want	or	desire	is	actually	what	they	should	desire.	To	turn	the	student	into	a	customer,	and	just	work	on	the	assumption	that	education	should	do	what	the	customer	wants	is	therefore	a	distortion	of	what	education	is	about,	a	distortion	that	significantly	undermines	the	ability	of	teachers	to	be	teachers	and	of	schools,	colleges	and	universities	to	be	educational	institutions	rather	than	shops.	(p.	82)	Biesta	(2015c)	offers	a	new	way	to	perceive	collaboration—as	dialogue—with	the	willingness	to	begin	again.	He	refers	to	educators’	desire	for	satisfaction	with	students	as	the	cause	of	avoiding	difficult	questions	as	part	of	life-long	challenge	of	those	who	are	different	from	us	(Biesta,	2015c).	Thus,	artistic	collaboration,	in	which	teachers	are	willing	to	interrogate	and	question	their	students	in	the	name	of	exploring	new	opportunities,	may	sometimes	lead	to	encountering	difficult	knowing.	In	addition,	while	Biesta	(2015c)	perceives	collaboration	as	dialogue,	he	invites	teachers	to	question	the	notion	of	experts,	in	which	participants	in	the	dialogue	are	asked	to	arrive	with	open	hands	and	hearts.	Artistic	collaboration	requires	understanding,	responsibility,	and	a	willingness	to	be	part	of	a	brave	process	in	which	ideas	get	reshaped,	changed,	and	challenged.	At	the	time	of	the	collaboration,	it	is	important	to	be	reminded	that	the	politics	that	results	from	so-called	collaboration	may	also	push	people	apart.	However,	recognizing	the	courage	and	the	risk	of	including	those	in	artistic	collaboration	may	provide	an	authentic	relational	imagination	and	collaboration.	This	radical	opportunity	to	imagine	together	offers	additional	aspects	to	dialogue.	Dunlop’s	(2002)	observation	suggests	new	ways	for	people	to	reimagine	the	courage	involved	in	truly	artistic	collaborative	practice:	Our	conversations,	our	collaborations,	our	writing,	and	our	theorizing	together	provide	us	with	radical	revision	of	community,	academic	or	otherwise.	Our	collaborations	open	us	up	to	a	feminist	imagination	that	moves	us	beyond	the	“ism.”	This	is	an	imagination	that	explores	the	nature	and	value	of	our	relationships	to	each	other,	[and]	of	taking	risks.	This	imagination	demands	courage.	(Invocation	section,	para.	1)		 73	This	radical	opportunity	to	imagine	together	invites	coexistences	in	relationship	in	which	people’s	creative	collaboration	is	beyond	the	tangible	and	aesthetic	creation	and	dialogue	is	in	its	existential	form.	This	desire	to	imagine	together,	beyond	the	individual,	brought	me	to	write	and	imagine	the	following	poem.		What	can	be	written	when	the	world	is	under	fire?	Anything	that	can	be	done	should	be.	What	can	be	done	when	the	world	is	facing	separation?	Anything	that	would	keep	us,	on	the	ground,	united.	What	can	be	done	when	people	are	categorized	differently?	Anything	that	would	show	us	our	similarities.	What	can	be	done	that	would	change	anything?	Anything	that	would	show	us	the	beauty	in	our	differences.	What	can	be	done	to	create	the	switch?	The	flip?	Anything	that	would	encourage	us	to	imagine	freely.	Although	artistic	collaboration	could	be	perceived	as	dialogue,	it	is	important	to	recognize	the	additional	components	artistic	collaboration	offers	to	dialogue:	embodiment	and	aesthetics	provide	a	foundation	for	a	creative	process	that	requires	mutual	respect,	yet	may	create	conflicts	among	individuals	during	a	mutual	creation.	The	notion	of	artistic	collaboration	in	this	study	concentrated	on	cooking	together	as	a/r/tographic	moments.	As	Bickel	et	al.	(2011)	states,	“A/r/tography	is	offered	as	a	unique	form	of	radical	collaboration	applicable	to	many	fields	of	inquiry	in	the	academy,	art	world,	and	community.	Theoretically,	it	requires	a	relational	practice	that	co-revises	itself	in/with	community	experiences”	(p.	88).	With	that	being	said,	artistic	collaboration	offers	a	democratic	methodology	of	co-creating,	encouraging	a	space	for	transformative	and	creative	interaction	with	the	potential	to	build	community	(Stewart,	1993).	Thus,	aesthetics	in	artistic	collaboration	is	beyond	art	per	se.	As	Johnson	(2008)	suggests,	art	could	be	a	meaning-making	experience:	Dewey	argued	that	art	is	an	exemplary	form	of	human	meaning-making.…	We	need	a	Dewey	for	the	twenty-first	century.	That	is,	we	need	a	philosophy	that	sees	aesthetics		 74	as	not	just	about	art,	beauty,	and	taste,	but	rather	as	about	how	human	beings	experience	and	make	meaning.	(p.	212)	Thus,	meaning	making	through	an	artistic	socially	engaged	collaboration	may	invite	democratic	process	and	dialogical	space,	whereas	a	product-oriented	attitude	and	conflict	that	serve	the	ego	would	be	pushed	a	side.	Artistic	socially	engaged	collaboration	adds	stimulating	aesthetic	sense	through	that	which	is	embodied	and	felt.	This	practice	encourages	relational	creativity	that	is	not	an	aesthetic	value	driven.	As	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	claims:	One	of	the	characteristics	of	relational	creativity	is	that	it	endlessly	defers	aesthetic	value	and	gives	short	shift	to	connoisseurship	and	the	hierarchies	of	taste.…	Aesthetics	and	formalism	continue	to	play	an	important	role	in	creative	practices	but	to	be	relational	the	practice	must	provide	a	vehicle	for	social	encounters,	real	or	imagined.	The	relational	artistic	encounter,	with	a	reconceptualization	of	aesthetic	value.	(p.	23)		These	carry	relational	aspects,	in	that	each	creator	inquires	alongside	and	with	other	collaborators	and	invites	the	interconnected	to	life	(Bickel	et	al.,	2011).	Thus,	although	an	irreplaceable	component	in	artistic	collaboration,	dialogue	is	not	necessarily	present	at	the	beginning	of	the	collaboration;	rather,	it	is	part	of	the	process	of	living	inquiry.	In	other	words,	artistic	collaboration	has	the	potential	to	be	a	creative	process	in	which	each	participant	creates	her	or	his	own	piece	within	the	whole.	Collaboration	may	bring	all	those	involved	together	to	achieve	an	ultimate	collective	creation.	The	dialogical	component	could	grow	from	the	process	of	creating	alongside	to	each	other.	As	Biesta	(2012a)	states,	“There	are	no	quick	fixes	in	achieving	a	dialogical	relationship	between	self	and	world”	(p.	100).	He	continued	by	arguing	for	the	importance	of	artistically	working	with	“resistant	materials”	(Biesta,	2012a,	p.	98)	such	as	stone,	wood,	and	metal	for	the	reason	of	experiencing	the	process	of	being	with-in	dialogue.	Biesta	(2012a)	clarifies,	If	one	manages	to	work	with	such	materials	in	a	successful	way,	one	will	experience	what	it	means	to	establish	a	dialogical	relationship	between	oneself	and	what	is	other	—a	process	in	which	one	will	not	only	find	out	many	things	about	the	materials	one	is	working	with,	but	also	about	one's	own	ability	to	establish	and	maintain	a	dialogue,	to		 75	work	through	the	frustration,	to	work	with	the	material	rather	than	against	it,	and	so	on.	While	working	with	resistant	materials	is	one	way	in	which	the	education	of	the	will	can	be	given	form,	much	can	also	be	gained	from	working	with	the	experience	of	social	resistance,	that	is,	from	encountering	and	engaging	with	the	resistance	posed	by	other	human	beings.	(p.	98)	In	the	context	of	this	study,	considering	Biesta’s	(2012a)	notion	of	experiencing	resistance	while	working	with	materials	or	experiencing	social	resistance,	the	communal	cooking	experiences	challenged	each	of	the	participants.	As	the	Conflict	Kitchen	(n.d.)	project	states:	[We	use]	the	social	relations	of	food	and	economic	exchange	to	engage	the	general	public	in	discussions	about	countries,	cultures,	and	people	that	they	might	know	little	about	outside	of	the	polarizing	rhetoric	of	governmental	politics	and	the	narrow	lens	of	media	headlines.	(para.	3)	Food	carries	stories,	relations,	resistance,	and	cultures.	While	working	with	food	and	others,	participants	create	meaning	together	and	apart,	which	allow	them	to	remain	within	the	tension	among	appreciating,	destroying	and	withdrawing	their	creations,	that	is,	food,	collaboration,	and	communication	(Biesta,	2015b).	It	is	important	to	be	reminded	of	this	tension	while	cooking	and	baking	because,	when	working	with	such	resistant	materials,	there	is	a	feel	in	cooking	for	maintaining	a	dialogue	and	working	with	others	rather	than	against	others.	Furthermore,	the	human	aspects	of	artistic	collaboration	through	cooking	and	baking	bring	the	relationship	into	a	dialogic	space	in	which	freedom	resides.	As	Swanson	(2008)	elaborates:	It	is	in	the	collective—not	the	self—that	the	possibility	of	freedom	resides.	Likewise,	it	is	in	the	freedom	of	the	relationship	to	the	other	that	freedom	of	the	self	comes	in	to	being.	It	is	in	the	freedom	of	moral	choice	that	defines	how	we	engage	with	the	other	that	inner	freedom	becomes	possible.	(pp.	181–182)	The	collective	allows	the	inner	freedom	to	become	possible.	Within	this	possibility	is	the	collective	artistic	process,	which	is	concerned	with	risk-taking	and	the	difficulties	inherent		 76	in	such	responsibility	(Dunlop,	2002).	Thus,	the	question	becomes,	what	does	this	relationship	between	freedom,	artistic	collaboration,	and	education	offer	in	the	understanding	of	the	importance	to	invite	art	back	to	education?	The	importance	of	integrating	art	into	educational	practices	means	adding	interruptions	into	democratic	practices	of	plurality	of	ideas,	beliefs,	actions,	and	so	forth.	As	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	claim:	The	relationship	between	art,	democracy	and	education	is	significant	in	terms	of	the	way	that	art	enables	“political	subjectification”	…	whereby	art	is	able	to	disrupt	normalizing	societal	roles	and	practices	…	democracy	as	perpetually	challenging,	critical	and	disruptive.	Therefore,	art	provides	a	means	to	enable	this	critical	social	engagement	with	the	distribution	of	power.	(p.	12)	Taking	many	forms,	art	provides	opportunities	of	engagement	that	interrupt	and	invite	different	senses	to	the	experience	of	people’s	lived	experience.	Artistic	collaboration	with	food	and	creating	meaning	is	a	rather	new	yet	old	phenomenon	in	education.	However,	there	are	several	projects	worldwide	that	explore	such	intentions	in	the	context	of	critical	social	engagement,	activism,	aesthetic,	and	hospitality.	Feast:	Radical	Hospitality	in	Contemporary	Art	(Smith,	2013),	is	one	example	of	a	project	that	took	place	at	the	University	of	Chicago	during	2012	and	later	as	a	travelling	exhibition	for	3	years:	Feast	explored	the	richly	varied	meaning	that	can	be	sparked	when	artists	reinvent	the	everyday	act	of	sharing	food	and	drink	with	others.	The	exhibition	and	the	programming	that	accompanied	it	provide	rich	new	insights	while	engaging	audiences	in	compelling,	often	opened	by	it	…	living	the	spirit	of	radical	hospitality	broke	down	barriers.	(p.	8)	In	addition	to	all	its	aspects	of	artistic	collaboration	as	dialogue,	disruption	of	power,	and	democratic	ideas,	there	is	another	important	aspect—the	aesthetic.	The	experience	of	coming	together	for	a	feast,	which	is	set	up	mindfully	and	aesthetically,	creates	a	sense	of	appreciation	and	togetherness	beyond	the	feast	itself.	For	instance,	an	art	piece	of	Judy	Chicago	(2014),	The	Dinner	Party	from	the	late	1970s	is	an	artistic	example	for	how	the		 77	notion	of	dinner	may	be	a	central	theme	for	examining	women’s	issues,	contributions	and	aspirations.		As	Smith	(2013)	mentions	in	Feast,	sharing	meals	with	others	is	a	basic	human	inclination	and	continuing	source	of	aesthetic	inspiration.	The	aesthetic	inspiration	in	Feast	included	different	artistic	collaborations	that	were	artful	democratic	projects	run	by	artists,	dismissing	the	conventional	view	that	the	arts	are	individual	and	singular	(Smith,	2013).	As	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	add:	In	this	common	ground	the	arts	are	fundamental	to	the	democratic	and	educational	process,	especially	given	their	propensity	for	disruption	and	critical	questioning.	Democratic	subjectivity	can	be	constructed	through	creative	practices,	especially	those	in	which	a	context	for	collective	democratic	action	is	created.	(p.	12)	For	instance,	one	of	the	initiatives	represented	in	Smith’s	(2013)	book	Feast	is	the	Mildred’s	Lane	project.	This	initiative	is	an	ongoing,	collaborative	research	project	that	focuses	on	an	experimental	summer	camp	where	small	groups	of	students,	artists,	curators,	and	writers	gather.	They	collectively	engage	artistically	while	also	sharing	in	the	process	of	preparing	feasts	together.	The	intention	of	Mildred’s	Lane	is	for:	this	everyday	work	of	thinking,	talking,	cleaning,	cooking,	and	eating	together	should	be	grounded	in	an	“ethics	of	comportment”	that	might	allow	us	to	“collectively	create	new	modes	of	being	in	the	world”	if	practiced	with	focus,	intention,	curiosity,	and	joy.	(Smith,	2013,	p.	238)	The	artistic	collaboration	with	food	may	interrupt	normalizing	gathering	with	a	sense	of	play.	As	part	of	the	Mildred’s	Lane	project,	a	particular	dinner	was	based	on	a	game	that	was	an	invention	of	one	of	the	artists	involved	(Smith,	2013).	The	game	was	Scrabble	Scramble,	which	invited	participants	to	recombine	the	letters	of	their	names	to	create	a	list	of	ingredients	for	all	the	dishes	they	would	prepare	together	for	a	meal	(Smith,	2013,	p.	238).	In	these	dinners,	collaborators	shared	roles	of	guest	and	host	as	well	as	responsibilities	for	the	sensory,	intellectual,	aesthetic,	and	emotional	aspects	of	the	meal—	 78	“a	perfect	embodiment	of	the	collectively	generated	hospitality	that	underlies	all	of	…	activities”	(Smith,	2013,	p.	238).	The	invitation	to	be	part	of	an	ongoing	process	of	collaborating	with	others	has	to	do	also	with	the	roles	and	responsibilities	participants	were	drawn	into	or	asked	to	fulfill	in	the	artistic	collaboration	process,	especially	around	food.	When	the	food	assists	us,	it	offers	invisible	personal	visceral	relationships	and	stories	with	food	that	each	participant	brings	into	the	creation	of	the	social	fabric.	The	food-making	process	enables	participants	to	locate	themselves	as	hosts,	guests,	helpers,	and	or	as	outsiders	(Verwoert,	2013).	Although	food-related	artistic	collaboration	has	often	been	theorized	for	its	embodied	lived	experience	contributions	(Springgay	&	Zaliwska,	2017),	in	this	study,	food	assisted	in	a	more	existential	form	to	hold	space	for	being	with	one	another	in	a	nurturing	way.	While	being	engaged	in	conversations	at	Windsor	House	during	the	pre-study	period,	I	recognized	that	in	the	community	kitchen	space,	all	elements	of	the	community	(students,	parents,	educators,	and	others)	come	together	and	experience	explorative	art-making.	As	Tiravanija	(as	cited	in	QAGOMA,	2010)	explains,	while	cooking,	conversing,	eating,	and	even	cleaning	the	kitchen	afterwards,	community	members	have	the	opportunity	to	interact	and	collaborate.	Cooking	together	offers	the	chance	for	other	things	to	happen	beyond	education	and	outside	of	the	self,	enabling	participants	to	experience	plurality	(i.e.,	a	way	to	deal	with	differences).	Thus,	I	realized	that	the	community	kitchen	is	a	situated	space	for	Windsor	House	participants	to	create	meaning	as	a	group	through	artistic	collaboration.	Being	in	the	kitchen	at	Windsor	House	felt,	as	Rita	Irwin	(2004)	states	in	relation	to	the	life	of	artist/researcher/teacher,	like	“existence	that	integrates	knowing,	doing,	and	making	…	flow	between	intellect,	feeling,	and	practice”	(p.	29).		In	this	chapter	I	have	provided	a	brief	context	for	democratic	education,	understanding	dialogue,	and	artistic	collaboration.	The	history	of	democratic	education	maintains	hope	for	freedom	of	choice	in	school	activities	within	a	democratic	framework.	The	premise	is	that	individuals	in	democratic	education	feel	supported	and	appreciated	in	the	quest	for	creating	their	own	identities	while	appreciating	their	uniqueness.			 79	The	encountering	of	experience	led	to	the	second	section	in	this	chapter	focussed	on	understanding	dialogue.	I	accomplished	this	through	a	review	of	several	writers	who	represent	a	broad	as	well	as	solid	understanding	of	dialogue.	Although	many	often	present	dialogue	as	a	finished	process,	one	in	which	people	reach	an	agreement,	these	five	philosophers	and	thinkers	emphasize	the	importance	of	the	unfinishedness,	that	is,	open-ended,	in	dialogic	process	as	well	as	the	notion	of	encountering	people	other	than	ourselves	(i.e.,	plurality).	These	aspects	are	essential	in	democratic	living	and	bring	us	as	humans	to	question	our	willingness	to	begin	again,	to	invite	openness,	and	even	to	consider	collaboration.	Thus,	the	key	ideas	I	have	taken	from	these	philosophers	and	thinkers	about	dialogue	are	their	understandings	of	encountering	the	other	through	dialogue	with	curious	mind	and	heart;	their	understandings	of	the	importance	in	finding	or	creating	common	ground,	while	being	aware	of	differences;	and	their	understandings	of	the	role	and	power	of	language	in	dialogue.	These	key	ideas	informed	this	study	and	research	questions	in	direct	and	less	direct	ways.	Lastly,	the	notion	of	collaboration	within	the	exploration	of	artistic	socially	engaged	collaboration	brings	this	chapter	to	a	close.	This	study	offered	a	space	for	artistic	socially	engaged	collaboration,	while	the	term	artistic	is	used	in	a	semantic,	dialogic,	and	embodied	manner,	that	is	artistic	not	in	terms	of	aesthetic	but	in	term	of	existential	quality.	As	Biesta	(2018)	claims:		The	quality	that	matters	here	is	not	the	aesthetic	quality	–	or	at	least	not	the	aesthetic	quality	per	se	–	but	what	we	might	term	the	existential	quality	of	what	and	who	is	being	expressed,	a	quality	that	has	to	do	with	how	children	and	young	people	can	exist	well,	individually	and	collectively,	in	the	world	and	with	the	world.	(p.	14) The	artistic	collaboration	includes	the	ethical	moments	of	encountering	the	other,	confronting	difficult	knowledge	through	the	doing	and	unfolding	of	dialogue.	This	exploration	leads	to	the	next	chapter,	which	discusses	the	methods	used	in	this	community	based	and	a/r/tographic	research.			 80	Chapter	4:	Tabouleh	Methodologies				Figure	5.	Living	metaphorically.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.		“Art	as	an	encounter	is	a	relational	activity	where	we	can	observe	our	own	patterns	of	behaviour	and	idea	creation	through	our	own	and	other’s	monitoring	and	enquiry.”		(Irwin	&	O’Donoghue,	2012,	p.	231)		 		 81	Allowing	explorations	of	our	embodied	experiences.	Embodied	connections	from	within	that	create	our	storied	fabric.	Stories	that	create	meaning	with	us	by	inviting	us	back	into	our	own	bodies.	Into	our	own	lived	understandings	of	our	stories’	fabric.	Understandings	that	invite	us	for	a	feast	served	on	an	inspiring	tablecloth.	Inspiring	as	our	voices	and	stories	holds	us	together.		Holds	us	together	and	make	us	feel	welcome.	Feel	they	were	there	waiting	for	us	to	join	in…	For	us	to	embody	hospitality—where	hospitality	invites	our	senses	to	dialogue.	Senses	that	allow	our	feast	to	be	celebrated—feast	of	living—carnival	of	being.	Where	our	fears	are	defeated	by	laughter,	celebration,	and	radical	hospitality.	I	open	this	section	with	a	poem	I	wrote	in	the	process	of	sense	making	during	this	study.	The	poem	embodies	the	complexity	I	experienced	in	the	process	of	writing	about	hybrid	methodologies.	This	complexity	required	me	to	accept	that	there	was	no	single	way	to	perceive	it	all.	Although	the	heart	asks	us	to	avoid	paradigm	thinking	and	wishes	to	experience	the	democratic	freedom	that	a/r/tography	offered	me	and	other	participants,	I	was	aware	that	there	were	existing	paradigms	in	place.	Being	with	A/r/tographic	Inquiry	A/r/tography	offered	an	invitation	to	connect	meaning	and	issues	in	a	democratic	way.	As	Biesta	(2011)	explains:	I	find	complexity	a	very	interesting	set	of	ideas	and	area	of	scholarship	–	I	even	see	it	as	an	important	set	of	ideas	and	area	of	scholarship	–	but	I	cannot	accept	it	as	a	new	paradigm,	as	a	necessary	framework,	or	as	the	truth	about	the	universe.	This	is	not	a	matter	of	epistemology	but	a	matter	of	politics	–	or	perhaps	I	should	say	that	this	is	an	existential	matter	–	in	that	human	dignity	for	me	requires	that	we	can	live	our	lives	without	having	to	believe	in	anything	(which	does	not	mean	that	we	should	not	be	allowed	to	have	beliefs).	Complexity	offers	options	–	and	perhaps	we	could	say	possibilities	–	but	I	am	not	in	search	of	a	new	paradigm,	because	I	do	not	think	that	just	replacing	one	paradigm	with	another	is	what	we	should	aim	for.	I'd	rather	see		 82	that	we	give	up	paradigm-thinking	altogether	and	engage	with	ideas	such	as	complexity	in	a	much	more	pragmatic	way,	connected	to	concrete	problems	and	issues,	rather	than	as	a	framework	or	paradigm.	(p.	119)	This	section	begins	with	the	story	of	methodologies	and	continues	with	the	methods	used	in	the	study.	I	describe	the	story	through	the	metaphor	of	tabouleh	making	and	the	roles	that	food,	creating	meaning,	and	complicated	conversations	play	within	hospitality	and	socially	engaged,	collaborative,	artistic	processes.	In	line	with	Derrida’s	(2000)	approach	to	hospitality,	I	understand	hospitality	as	being	open	to	strangers	who	arrive	at	my	door	without	notice.	This	requires	me	to	be	curious	without	conditions.	It	is	experiencing	natural	giving,	as	Marshal	Rosenberg	(2012)	refers	to	in	his	song	about	natural	giving.	This	understanding	is	enhanced	by	Claudia	Ruitenberg’s	(2015)	work	when	she	points	out	that	hospitality	in	education	is	about	unlocking	the	world	for	children	while	being	open	to	their	otherness,	despite	the	challenges.	The	participants	and	I	let	a/r/tographic	inquiry	play	its	part	as	a	democratic	practice	and	invited	conversations	to	rethink	past	experiences—rethinking	with	open	questions	towards	future	possibilities	for	imagining	a	new	present.	As	Pinar	(2003)	suggests,	“Present	are	the	sounds	of	complicated	conversation	in	which	teachers	are	bridges	between	curriculum-as-plan	and	curriculum-as-lived,	between	the	state	and	the	multitude,	between	history	and	culture”	(p.	10).	In	bringing	complicated	conversation	to	this	study,	I	encouraged	participants	to	engage	with	meaning	and	curriculum	on	a	practical	as	well	as	metaphorical	level.	These	conversations	created	a	space	to	imagine	a	way	beyond	without	being	stopped	by	the	unsolved	present.	The	practice	of	complicated	conversation	emerged	at	Windsor	House	when	it	was	truly	needed.	This	study	took	place	during	the	greatest	transitional	time	in	Windsor	House’s	history.	Stories	from	the	long-shared	past	were	told	by	many	as	part	of	an	attempt	to	imagine	together	and	apart	the	unknown	impending	future	of	being	a	school	without	a	building,	without	knowing	how	many	students	would	remain	at	Windsor	House	after	losing	the	building,	and,	as	a	result,	not	knowing	who	among	the	staff	would	be	able	to	stay.	These	conversations	were	built	upon	long-term	friendships,	a	participatory	community-based	atmosphere,	and	qualitative	research	methods.		 83	This	study	carries	aspects	of	participatory	community-based,	qualitative,	and	ethnographic	methods	and	techniques.	However,	it	focuses	on	a/r/tographic	moments	and	gatherings	that	are	sensorial,	aesthetic,	and	dialogic	spaces	with	the	assistance	of	community	conversations	and	creation	feasts	with	others.	In	this	study,	a/r/tography	inspired	socially	engaged	practices	within	a	community	of	practitioners	engaged	in	creative	work	together.	During	the	study,	I	invited	all	participants	to	co-create	the	curriculum	of	the	feasts	or	occasions	while	we	conversed	and	ate	together.	The	a/r/tographic	democratic	facilitation	and	encounters	took	place	in	the	interviews	and	the	gatherings	(created	around	food	preparation	and	sharing).	While	engaging	in	different	identities	as	teachers,	researchers,	and	at	times	artists,	participants	created	the	social	fabric	through	conversing	and	creating	shared	food.	As	I	experienced	it,	this	form	of	collaboration	is	distinctive	from	other	forms.	Feeding	ourselves	with	our	collaborative	creative	expression	meets	our	somatic	needs	for	nutrition,	nurturing,	and	an	ancient	tribal	ritual	sense	of	being,	as	we		take	care	of	each	other	in	existential	form.		While	dialogue,	as	a	philosophical	form,	offers	an	ongoing	exploration	of	encounters	and	plurality,	a/r/tography	enters	the	space	offering	moments	of	artistic	embodied	collaboration	of	being	with	and	encountering	resistance.	Exploring	artistically	calls	for	an	ongoing	dialogue.	As	Biesta	(2018)	clarifies:	Encountering	the	reality	of	paint,	stone,	wood,	metal,	sound,	bodies,	including	one’s	own	body,	encountering	resistance,	in	order	to	explore	possibilities,	meet	limits	and	limitations,	and	out	of	this	create	forms,	establish	forms	and	find	forms	that	make	existing-in-dialogue	possible,	that	is	what	I	see	in	the	“doing”	of	art.	(p.	17)	The	a/r/tographic	facilitation	also	offers	a	process	of	living	inquiry	(Meyer,	2010),	a	way	to	explore	dialogue	through	creating	meaning	of	democratic	education	in	complicated	conversations.	The	process	of	living	inquiry	is	often	understood	in	communities	of	practice	(Wenger,	1998)	among	a/r/tographers	committed	to	dynamic	and	constant	motion	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008).	The	process	of	living	inquiry	is	dynamic	as	participants	engage	in	reflexive	inquiry,	creating	meaning	by	doing,	and	in	questioning	truths.	As	La	Jevic	and	Springgay	(2008)	notes,	“A/r/tographers	do	not	do	research	as	a	separate	activity	they	are		 84	engaged	in	but	a/r/tographers	live	research”	(p.	72).	A/r/tography	requires	a	reflexive	inquiry	that	bonds	together	knowing	(theoria),	doing	(praxis),	and	making	(poesis);	each	are	important	in	meaning	making	in	a/r/tographic	inquiry	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008;	Leggo,	2001).	How	does	it	take	place,	and	what	kind	of	life	does	a/r/tography	offer?	Irwin	(2004)	explains:	To	live	the	life	of	an	artist	who	is	also	a	researcher	and	teacher	is	to	live	a	life	of	awareness,	a	life	that	permits	openness	to	the	complexity	around	us,	a	life	that	intentionally	sets	out	to	perceive	things	differently.	(p.	33)	In	my	personal	experience	many	educators	identify	themselves	simply	as	practitioners;	however,	a/r/tography	offers	practitioners	the	awareness	of	living	inquiry,	which	encourages	recursive	and	reflexive	inquiries.	This	form	of	theorizing	for	understanding	focuses	on	the	processes	of	constructing	new	knowledge	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008).	As	Greene	(1995)	suggests:	I	think	that	if	I	and	other	teachers	truly	want	to	provoke	our	students	to	break	through	the	limits	of	the	conventional	and	the	taken	for	granted,	we	ourselves	have	to	experience	breaks	with	what	has	been	established	in	our	own	lives;	we	have	to	keep	arousing	ourselves	to	begin	again.	(p.	109)	The	point	of	Greene’s	(1995)	understanding	of	teaching	is	that	while	educators	encourage	their	students	to	take	action	and	engage	in	new	beginnings,	educators	should	simultaneously	be	engaged	in	the	same	process.	To	be	engaged	in	living	inquiry	requires	educators	to	be	in	constant	motion	and	experiencing	ambiguity—to	begin	again,	which	Biesta	(2015c)	refers	to	as	the	new	beginning	and	as	Arendt	(1954)	writes	about.	Staying	open	to	the	experience	of	ambiguity	takes	courage	and	patience.	As	I	reflected	in	writing	in	December	2010:		I	stay	open	to	new	discoveries,	and	let	the	space	of	ambiguity	lead	me	to	my	next	stage	of	my	a/r/tography	practice.	I	wonder	whether	a	Sisyphean	task,	such	as	sewing,	would	connect	me	to	my	a/r/tographic	understanding.	What	is	there	when	we	paint?	How	is	the	painting	knowledge	different?	Questions	come	and	visit	my	mind	while		 85	sewing;	what	is	the	hidden	connection	between	my	readings	and	my	personal	being?	What	is	there	that	could	not	let	me	move	on	and	encouraged	me	to	start	my	a/r/tography	practice	with	my	classmate?	Ten	minutes	extends	into	two	hours	and	it	is	2	a.m.	The	sewing	making	leads	us	to	a	dialogue	where	we	both	get	engaged	with	the	question	of	why	it	took	me	so	long;	why	do	I	explore	tasks	like	that	with	more	joy	than	reading	or	writing?	These	questions	may	sound	trivial	belying	how	deep	they	truly	are.	They	actually	unfold	deeper	questions	of	my	being	in	a	reality	of	thinking,	as	opposed	to	my	being	in	a	reality	of	doing.		Sewing	is	truly	a	meditative	task,	one	which	allows	rest	and	awareness	of	thoughts	as	they	arise	without	opinion	or	judgment,	simply	witnessing	rather	than	engaging	with	these	thoughts,	while	the	mind	is	occupied	with	a	meditative	practice	(Puddicombe,	2017).	As	Lynda	Barry	(2008)	asks:	What’s	the	difference	between	thought	and	experience?	In	terms	of	that	painting	it	was	aliveness.	The	difference	between	trying	to	decide	what	I	thought	and	having	something	actually	happen	to	me	while	I	was	looking	was	my	first	clue.	(p.	118)		Returning	to	a/r/tography	as	a	methodology,	Greene’s	notion	of	beginning	again	resonated	with	me.	Green	wrote	about	experiencing	breaks	with	what	has	been	established	in	our	own	lives	and	beginning	again,	which	I	found	connected	to	the	interwoven	relationship	of	the	artist/researcher/teacher	as	a/r/tography	offers,	given	that	none	of	these	identities	are	more	important	than	the	other,	and	allows	each	to	be	challenged.	This	plurality	of	a/r/tographic	practice	offers	individuals	and	the	collective	a	means	to	create	a	democratic	platform	for	collaboration.	This	is	explained	in	a/r/tographic	collaboration	as	radical	relatedness:	As	a	practice,	a/r/tography	incorporates	both	art	making	and	writing	(graphy)	as	essential	components	of	inquiry.	A/r/tography	extends	the	modern	and	postmodern	concept	of	artist,	through	acknowledging	and	drawing	forward	the	interwoven	aspects	of	the	artist/researcher/teacher	relationship.	From	this	interconnected	platform	…	a/r/tographic	collaboration	is	best	understood	and	practiced	with	a	combination	of	theoretical	guidelines	and	practices	that	accrue	from	relational	aesthetics	(the	artist’s		 86	contribution),	relational	inquiry	(the	researcher’s	contribution)	and,	relational	learning	(the	teacher’s	contribution).	The	primary	principle	of	a/r/tography	is	that	none	of	these	contributors,	aspects,	or	situations	is	to	be	privileged	over	another,	as	they	co-emerge	simultaneously	within	and	through	time	and	space.		(Bickel	et	al.,	2011,	p.	5)	Radical	relatedness	with	its	call	for	intersubjective	coexistence	with	others	(Bickel	et	al.,	2011)	within	a/r/tographic	practice	supports	the	notion	of	hospitality	and	holds	space	for	it	to	exist.	I	suggest	that	hospitality,	as	Derrida	(2000)	and	Ruitenberg	(2015)	refer	to,	involves	embodied	experiences,	just	as	collaborative	cooking	invites	the	messiness	of	dialoguing	and	being	in	relation	through	creating	food,	conversing,	being,	and	feasting	together.	Food	plays	an	important	role	within	the	relational	and	human	act	of	dialogue.	As	Basil	Alzeri	(as	cited	in	CHMA,	2014)	shares	about	his	artistic	inquiry	through	food	making	in	front	of	audiences:		Through	the	work	like	this	…	whoever	witness	the	work,	participate	in	eating,	see	it,	taste	it,	that	before	you	think	that	Palestinians	as	these	people	in	conflict,	these	people	as	political	machine	against	another	machine	…	these	are	people	before	anything	else	…	eat,	sleep,	go	to	school	…	marriage,	all	those	human	aspects	…	cultural	apathetic	gesture	here	that	talks	about	humanity	before	occupation	or	colonialism	…	simple	message	of	humanity	…	through	cultural	aspect	as	cuisine	…	and	historical	use	of	food,	to	confirm	a	long	history	and	cultural	significant	within	a	nation	strategically	been	fought	to	demolish.	(11:31)	Thus,	the	socially	engaged	artistic	collaboration	of	food	creation	brings	a	different	feel	and	experience	than	other	collaborations,	which	are	often	less	embodied.	It	includes	senses	such	as	“touch,	smell,	and	especially	taste	–	that	have	been	devalued	or	simply	considered	irrelevant	to	high	culture”	(Korsmeyer,	1999,	pp.	1–11).	These	intuitive	visceral	understandings	invited	the	personal	(i.e.,	each	person)	to	engage,	share,	question,	and	feel	a	relational	experience.	For	teachers,	the	process	of	living	inquiry	(i.e.,	being	in	dialogue),	in	which	discoveries,	ambiguities,	and	open-ended	questions	take	the	lead,	might	be	a	different	way		 87	of	engaging	with	others.	In	this	study,	they	learned	through	their	community	of	practice.	In	supporting	the	process	of	living	inquiry,	a/r/tography	embraces	four	commitments	in	communities	of	practice:		(1)	a	commitment	to	a	way	of	being	in	the	world;	(2)	a	commitment	to	inquiry;	(3)	a	commitment	to	negotiating	personal	engagement	within	a	community	of	belonging	and;	(4)	a	commitment	to	creating	practices	that	trouble	and	address	difference.	(Irwin,	2010,	p.	42)	These	commitments	have	the	intention	of	leaving	space	for	inventions	and	movement	in	a/r/tographic	inquiry.	The	complex	and	demanding	work	environment	of	teachers	is	overwhelming,	and	at	times	poses	additional	obstacles	and	barriers	to	permit	openness	or	even	willingness	to	perceive	things	differently.	However,	usually	when	teachers	engage	in	a/r/tography—with	its	inner	dialectic	in-between	formation,	non-binary	positions,	and	non-goal	oriented	methodology—they	are	encouraged	to	raise	new	questions	related	to	“what	is	seen	and	known	and	what	is	not	seen	and	not	known”	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008,	p.	xxx).	A/r/tography	in	this	sense	is	about	sharing	the	processes	in	which	“meanings	are	negotiated	by,	with,	and	among	a/r/tographers	as	well	as	with	their	audiences”	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008,	p.	xxx).	The	community	of	practice	offers,	as	Clandinin	and	Connelly	(1995)	elaborate,	an	opportunity	for	growth:	What	is	missing	in	the	classroom	is	a	place	for	teachers	to	tell	and	retell	their	stories	of	teaching.	The	classroom	can	become	a	place	of	endless,	repetitive,	living	out	of	stories	without	the	possibility	of	awakenings	and	transformations.…	Teachers	need	others	in	order	to	engage	in	conversations	where	stories	can	be	told,	reflected	back,	heard	in	different	ways,	retold,	and	relived	in	new	ways	in	the	safety	and	secrecy	of	the	classroom.	(p.	13)	The	process	of	being	heard	in	different	ways	invites	an	experience	of	hospitality.	This	study	offered	an	exploration	of	what	democratic	education	means	and	how	it	enabled	participants	to	dialogue	with	the	support	of	hospitality.	In	democratic	education,	hospitality	involves	acceptance	as	well	as	resistance.	Biesta	(2015b)	refers	to	these	opportunities,	and	I	explore	this	further	in	later	chapters.	Doing	so	with	the	facilitation	of		 88	a/r/tographic	moments	of	living	inquiry	offers	open-ended,	embodied,	and	playful	engagements,	in	which	ongoing	exchanges	of	identities,	understanding,	and	meaning	take	place.	Creating	feasts	together	offered	the	participants	and	me	safe	spaces	in	which	to	begin	the	dialogic	processes.	Those	ongoing	exchanges	also	opened	us	to	discomfort	and	ambiguity.	This	is	the	messiness	of	a	social	fabric	ensuring	none	of	the	voices	in	the	room	are	more	privileged	than	others.	As	part	of	my	a/r/tographic	process,	I	have	been	sewing	a	tablecloth	from	fabric	I	have	been	collecting	for	years.	In	doing	so,	I	have	been	sewing	hospitality,	with	memories,	in	a	dialogical	space—metaphorically	sewing	the	social	fabric	of	hosting.	I	sewed	x	after	x	after	x	after	x,	connecting	pieces	of	stories	into	a	tablecloth,	just	as	participants	and	I	added	ingredients	into	our	cooking.	At	home	I	sewed	the	rhizomatic	connections	beneath	the	surface	into	a	physical	tablecloth,	trusting	the	making	process	to	create	meaning	while	sewing,	just	as	I	invited	participants	at	school	to	play	with	the	written	curriculum,	that	is,	the	recipes	at	our	gatherings	without	fear	of	doing	it	wrong	but	following	what	arises	in	the	moment	and	experiencing	what	it	holds.	The	messiness	of	cultures	and	interests	came	together	for	me	while	I	created	meaning	through	the	making	of	the	tablecloth.	I	wove	stories,	memories,	meaning,	and	hospitality,	inviting	instead	of	forcing.	Sewing	allowed	me	to	take	active	pauses	in	thinking,	cooking,	and	writing,	enabling	listening	to	take	place.	As	I	sewed	x	after	x,	I	let	intention	take	the	lead	by	staying	open	to	whatever	comes.	As	if	I	allowed	myself	to	be	a	guest	while	sewing,	who	could	simply	be	without	immersing	into	the	social	fabric	of	hosting.	That	is,	experiencing	that	sense	of	freedom	for	not	having	any	desire	to	solve	or	understand	or	host,	but	simply	be.	Thus,	the	role	of	the	host,	when	the	process	is	dialogic	and	collaborative,	is	to	witness	the	self	as	well	as	to	remain	open	to	whatever	comes,	instead	of	remaining	in	the	deposition	of	running	it	all.	In	many	ways	while	being	the	host	in	this	study,	I	had	to	actively	make	a	choice	to	not	be	the	host,	as	Woolf	(1981)	refers,	so	I	was	not	absent	from	the	interactions.	Woolf	(1981)	writes	about	the	host	as	being	in	touch	with	everyone	besides	herself,	while	creating	the	social	fabric.	As	Verwoert	(2013)	writes	about	Woolf’s	writing:		While	the	host	is	in	touch	with	everyone	in	the	expanded	family	and	touches	up	every	mark	of	discomfort,	she	remains	emotionally	untouchable	herself.	Close	to	everyone	and		 89	always	on	hand	when	needed,	Mrs.	Ramsay	is	infinitely	distant	and	out	of	reach,	alone	in	her	world	of	ceaseless	care.	(p.	362)	The	host,	caring	for	others,	never	for	herself,	hence	neither	acknowledging	nor	sharing	the	knowledge	of	her	decaying	health,	dies	from	one	day	to	the	next,	leaving	the	world	that	only	she	could	animate	in	ruins.	(p.	362)		The	host’s	awareness	for	all	relations	and	her	support	in	their	creation	create	the	space	for	the	flow	of	hospitality	to	exist.	In	terms	of	hosting,	the	participants	and	I	worked	in	the	kitchen	together	with	the	intention	of	creating	meaning	together.	As	in	my	sewing,	being	in	the	flow	of	making	meaning	in	the	kitchen	invites	the	heart—being	in	the	flow	of	social	time,	between	those	who	host	and	the	ones	who	perform	in	it.	Although	the	role	of	host	was	expected	to	be	mine,	I	did	not	define	it	as	such.	Throughout	the	study,	as	the	gatherings	progressed,	the	participants	and	I	experienced	the	flow	of	social	time	while	being	the	guests,	as	well	as,	hosting	simultaneously. Similarly,	Verwoert	(2013)	states: Sense	how	social	time	is	made	to	flow,	who	makes	it	flow,	who	goes	with	that	flow,	and	profits	from	it-and	thereby	hopefully	enables	us	to	exorcise	some	of	the	demons	and	recognize	some	of	the	potentials	that	linger	within	the	horizon	of	hosting	(and)	cultural	performance.	(p.	361)	The	potential	that	lingers	within	hosting	creates	the	flow	of	social	time.	Within	this	cultural	performance,	the	relational	being	is	asked	to	join	in	and	let	go	of	the	fear	of	staying	emotionally	untouchable.	In	an	atmosphere	of	hospitality,	I	was	asked	to	speak	up	for	what	I	truly	cared	about	and	acted	on.	Breathing	in	while	sewing	x	after	x,	missing	this	embodied	knowing;	I	found	I	was	asked	to	share	my	own	uniqueness	in	the	most	radical	democratic	way.	I	experienced	it,	lived	it,	breathed	it,	and	felt	it	by	joining	in.	This	brought	me	back	into	my	own	personal	ecosystem.	I	found	engaging	in	dialogue	to	be	an	invitation	to	a	worldly	space,	an	educational	space,	where	the	world	desires	to	teach	me	something	(Biesta,	2015b).	Dialogue	is	more	about	the	process	people	go	through	in	the	search	for	new	understandings.	People’s	inner	ecosystems	keep	them	alive	by	being	in	the	world,	being	engaged	in	the	world,	and	being	at	home	in	the	world	(Biesta,	2015b).		 90	Coming	to	write	about	the	importance	of	embodied	experience	in	relation	to	creating	meaning	showed	me	how	isolated	and	lonely	it	could	be	without	an	embodied	component.	Investing	in	the	process	of	writing	removed	me	from	the	world.	I	knew	I	wanted	to	embody	the	experience	by	creating	a	tablecloth	from	stories	of	hospitality—from	being	isolated,	to	bringing	the	pieces	together	while	creating	aesthetic	meaning.	As	Irwin	(2006)	writes,	“Experiences	found	in	the	ordinary	moments	of	life	provide	pathways	for	pedagogy	of	self,	while	artistic	activity	provides	a	recursive	stance	towards	continuous	inquiry	and	engagement	with	ideas”	(p.	75).	Letting	Irwin’s	understanding	unfold	while	writing	and	creating	a	tablecloth	led	me	to	write	the	following	passage:	Sewing	x	after	x	after	x,	knowing	it	takes	time	from	doing	other	things.	It	takes	time	to	respect	our	own	selves.	It	takes	time	to	give	some	time	and	attention	to	our	inner	ecosystem	that	asks	for	more	than	thinking.	It	takes	time	to	pause.	It	takes	time	to	be.	It	takes	time	to	allow	our	voice	emerge	from	within	our	creations.	It	takes	time	to	be	in	dialogue	with	what	is.	It	takes	time	to	host	and	experience	radical	hospitality,	that	is,	to	be	welcomed	and	welcome	others.	It	takes	time	and	courage	to	listen	carefully	to	our	becoming.	It	takes	time	to	embody	our	experience.	It	takes	time	to	be	dialogical.	It	takes	time	to…		At	this	time,	in	many	locations	worldwide,	when	teachers	are	asked	to	stay	on	task	and	run	through	the	curriculum,	there	is	little	time	for	anything	that	counts	as	an	off	task,	little	time	if	any	to	wonder,	to	linger	with	and	within	the	curriculum,	to	explore	existential,	practical,	and	philosophical	questions	of	who	we	are	and	why	we	do	what	we	do.	Teachers	are	not	given	the	time	to	wonder	what	hospitality	has	to	do	with	the	educational	experience	or	what	hospitality	could	teach	us	about	complicated	conversations.	These	questions	of	who,	why,	and	what	do	not	need	to	be	answered;	however,	it	is	important	to	understand	their	offering.	They	present	an	offering	as	an	awaking	opportunity,	to	begin	again	and	to	emphasize	the	importance	of	hospitality	as	the	heart	of	the	curriculum.		As	mentioned	earlier	in	this	section,	in	the	context	of	this	research,	hospitality	carries	at	least	two	meanings.	One	is	the	direct	meaning	of	hosting	and	the	other	is	as	a	metaphor	for	dialogue.	As	Korsmeyer	(1999)	states:		 91	[This	work]	also	takes	seriously	the	preparation,	serving,	and	function	of	food	….	the	fact	that	eating	is	an	activity	we	freight	with	significance	considerably	beyond	either	the	pleasures	it	affords	or	the	nutritional	sustenance	it	provides.	It	is	an	intimate	part	of	hospitality,	ceremony,	and	rituals	religious	and	civic.	(p.	3)	Those	meanings	of	hospitality	invite	participants	into	a	personal	space	while	the	I	is	asked	to	be	engaged.	Hospitality	offers	a	relational	occasion.	In	this	space,	we	as	teachers	are	not	permitted	to	hide	behind	tasks	such	as	curriculum,	class	management,	and	testing,	but	instead	are	asked	to	share	and	teach	who	they	are	as	people.	As	Pinar	(2004,	2009)	suggests,	teachers	should	be	the	authors	of	their	teaching.	He	emphasized	the	importance	of	lived	curriculum	and	experience,	exploration,	and	creation	of	ourselves	in	relation	to	others.	The	question	that	emerges	is	how	hosts	or	teachers	ensure	they	do	not	become	lost	in	hospitality	work	while	uneventful	tasks	and	duties	may	take	all	of	their	energy.	As	Verwoert	(2013)	writes:	The	irony	is:	work	that	must	be	done	to	host	an	event	is	highly	uneventful.	The	temporal	horizon	of	sustained	social	communication,	preparation,	administration,	and	maintenance	is	that	of	long	durations.	Many	small	acts	(e-mails,	phone	calls,	etc.)	eventually	add	up	to	something.	But	in	themselves	they	are	too	many,	too	unspectacular,	and	too	extended	over	time	to	be	convertible	into	the	theatrical	logic	of	instantaneous	onstage	delivery.	The	award	ceremony	organizer	is	hardly	ever	the	prize	winner.	(p.	360)	As	in	a/r/tography,	in	which	the	artist’s	voice,	perspectives,	experiences,	and	points	of	view	are	explored	in	the	making;	in	the	socially	engaged	artistic	collaboration	of	cooking,	as	well	as	in	hospitality,	there	are	gaps	in	the	making	and	getting	prepared	to	host.	The	making	process	may	teach	people	how	it	feels	to	get	lost	in	the	flow.	The	making	brings	taste	into	the	flow,	while	participants	are	not	controlled	but	allowed	to	be	fully	alive.	Korsmeyer	(1999)	suggests:	Taste	is	associated	with	appetite,	a	basic	drive	that	propels	us	to	eat	and	drink.	Its	role	in	sheer	animal	existence	is	one	of	the	factors	that	has	contributed	to	its	standard	neglected	as	a	subject	of	philosophical	inquiry	…	too	closely	identified	with	the	body		 92	and	our	animal	nature,	it	seems	not	to	figure	in	the	exploration	of	rationality	or	the	development	of	knowledge	…	most	ethical	theories	assume	that	taste	presents	base	temptations	that	in	a	moral	life	must	be	controlled.	(pp.	1–2)	Collaborative	hospitality	and	food	creation	may	offer	a/r/tographers	new	ways	of	adapting	to	and	overcoming	a	variety	of	encounters	including	the	collective	ego,	ideological	and	political	disagreements,	to	name	a	few.	Swanson	(2008)	explains	that	overcoming	such	encounters	requires	being	in	constant	processes	of	living	inquiry,	searching,	and	discovering:	It	is	between	the	horns	of	dilemma	that	identities	are	constantly	becoming	reinscribed	and	negotiated	in	terms	of	choices,	delimited	or	enabled,	within	a	dialogue	between	ethics	and	activism.	It	is	in	this	space,	where	practice	and	theory	meet,	that	I	continue	this	a/r/tographic	journey	here,	living	through	the	text	the	freedom	to	search,	discover	and	(re)invent	meaning	of	how	we	come	to	understand	choice,	moral	commitment,	ethical	action,	and	above	all	the	freedom	to	come	to	explore	the	nature	of	freedom	itself	underpinning	these	concepts.	(p.	181)	Swanson	(2008)	claims	that	a/r/tography	is	successful	because	it	recognizes	that	educators	need	space	to	(re)invent	meaning	in	order	to	experience	freedom	and	choice.	Thus,	she	views	a/r/tographic	inquiries	as	a	way	of	knowing	relationally	how	to	ask	questions	that	convey	ethical	and	natural	freedom	concerns	(Swanson,	2008).	Questions	such	as,	what	kinds	of	sacrifices	are	implied	in	the	intersection	of	a/r/tographic	inquiry?	What	are	the	response-abilities	of	a/r/tographers	while	agreeing	to	inquire	with	the	“other”	and	being	the	“other”?	How	might	a/r/tographic	inquiry	offer	learning	selves	with	others?	This	is	about	examining	knowledge	that	is	rarely	reached	through	propositional	language.	In	other	words,	a/r/tographic	inquiry	may	offer	opportunities	to	experience	the	in-between,	as	well	as	being	with	spaces,	which	are	limited	through	propositional	language	that	carries	meaning	and	power	struggles.	This	relates	to	Ellsworth’s	(2005)	explanation	regarding	art	as	a	way	of	knowing:	Art	bends	under	its	chosen	burden	of	trying	to	make	shareable	a	knowledge	that	cannot	be	explained.	Art	assumes	the	burden	of	a	knowing	that	is	anything	but	literal		 93	and	will	not	be	reduced	to	the	explainable	through	socially	encoded	grids	of	categories,	names,	and	numbers.…	Although	it	lies	beyond	language,	what	the	aesthetic	knows	can	be	painted,	sculpted,	danced,	or	sensed	in	and	through	music,	moving	images,	architecture,	and	poetry.	What	poetry	[and	painting]	“knows”	is	a	way	of	knowing	rooted	in	the	movement	of	our	learning	selves	as	they	pass	into	and	through	the	space	between	the	literal	and	the	figurative	and	experience	one	reality	passing	into	another.	(p.	157)	Beyond	language,	as	in	democracy,	teachers	should	be	able	to	make	real	decisions	about	their	lives,	have	the	opportunity	to	disagree,	discuss,	and	take	actions	and	responsibilities	(Mintz,	2017).	According	to	Mintz,	as	with	teachers,	a	similar	claim	applies	to	students	in	democratic	schools,	and	hopefully	to	those	in	mainstream	schools.	Sir	Ken	Robinson	(as	cited	in	Mintz,	2017)	described	this	simply,	in	a	way	that	resonates	with	the	common	beliefs	of	many	democratic	schools	around	the	world:	Democratic	schools	are	rooted	in	the	purposes	of	democracy	itself:	liberty	and	the	pursuit	of	happiness,	self-determination,	and	government	by	and	for	the	people	…	if	we	are	serious	about	these	principles	…	we	should	practice	them	in	our	schools	…	[democratic	education]	depends	on	shared	respect	for	individuals	and	empathy	for	the	needs	of	the	group.	It	depends	on	the	commitment	of	the	whole	community	to	a	sense	of	common	purpose	and	mutual	wellbeing	…	when	practiced	properly	in	schools,	democracy	actually	works.	(Forward	section,	para.	7–9)	To	think	of	research	in	terms	of	democratic	practice	is	to	reflect	on	inter-embodiment,	on	being	(or	beings)	in	relation,	and	communities	of	practice,	which	Wenger	(2013)	defines	as	“groups	of	people	who	share	a	concern	or	a	passion	for	something	they	do	and	learn	how	to	do	it	better	as	they	interact	regularly”	(p.	1).	Research	becomes	a	process	of	exchange	that	is	not	separated	from	the	body	but	emerges	through	an	intertwining	of	mind	and	body,	self,	and	other,	and	through	our	interactions	with	the	world	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008,	p.	xxii).	Therefore,	it	is	important	to	remain	ethical	in	a	way	that	participants	feel	safe	and	willing	to	be	part	of	this	exchange	process.	While	conducting	a	democratic,	holistic,	and	a	personal	study,	I	held	space	for	it	to	be	as	such	for	all	participants.			 94	In	a	study	such	as	this,	while	participants	were	involved	in	thinking,	talking,	cooking,	moving	around,	and	eating,	it	was	important	to	be	aware	of	the	social	and	bodily	orientation	of	each	participant.	Although	through	much	of	its	history	the	community	of	Windsor	House	has	been	homogeneous	(i.e.,	the	school	is	predominantly	white	and	lacks	cultural	diversity)	in	terms	of	representation	of	educators,	as	well	as	students,	a	change	started	in	the	last	few	years	and	I	was	strongly	aware	of	it	coming	in	the	year	following	my	study	at	the	school.	This	awareness	was	evident	in	the	kitchen	though	it	was	not	discussed.	For	instance,	the	subject	of	social	and	bodily	orientation	came	up	in	terms	of	the	different	educational	roles	and	responsibilities	between	teachers	and	teacher	assistants.	That	is	where	I	found	Sara	Ahmed’s	(2007)	explanation	to	be	beneficial:	Whiteness	becomes	a	social	and	bodily	orientation	given	that	some	bodies	will	be	more	at	home	in	the	world	that	is	orientated	around	whiteness.	If	we	began	instead	with	disorientation,	with	the	body	that	loses	its	chair,	then	the	descriptions	we	offer	will	be	quite	different.	(p.	160)	Beyond	whiteness,	Ahmed	(2007)	offers	that	the	world	should	not	necessarily	be	changed;	rather,	her	point	is	about	the	disorientation,	that	is,	awareness.	Even	if	we	only	begin	with	a	socially	and	bodily	disorientation,	we	perceive	things	differently;	as	such,	we	must	live	a	life	of	awareness	that	permits	openness	(Irwin	&	Springgay,	2008).	When	I	refer	to	whiteness	in	this	context,	I	am	speaking	of	whiteness	in	a	wider	sense,	which	includes	individuals	in	power	and	control,	as	Ahmed	(2007)	claims,	those	who	are	not	being	stopped,	who	are	aware	of	otherness,	and	who	are	not	losing	their	chair.	Whiteness	in	the	context	of	this	study	could	be	a	metaphor	for	feeling	at	home,	or	not	at	home,	or	on	the	way	home—home	in	the	context	of	cooking,	of	democratic	education,	and	of	hospitality.	Democracy	in	Schools?	What?	Years	ago,	I	made	connections	through	Alternative	Education	Resource	Organization	(AREO)	conferences	(2005	and	onwards)	with	members	of	the	Windsor	House	community.	However,	it	was	only	in	2008,	when	I	arrived	at	the	IDEC	conference	in	Vancouver,	that	I	made	the	choice	to	conduct	this	study	with	Windsor	House.	At	that	conference,	I	had	the	opportunity	to	lead	a	workshop	with	Meghan	Carrico,	who	at	that	time	was	a	teacher	at		 95	Windsor	House	(she	has	since	become	the	principal	of	the	school).	Our	workshop	was	called,	“What	Should	‘Teacher	Training’	Look	Like	for	a	Democratic	School	Staff	Person?”	During	the	conference,	and	more	specifically	in	relation	to	our	workshop,	I	had	many	opportunities	to	observe	this	community	in	action,	listen	to	its	plurality,	and	raise	ideas	for	a	study	with	this	school.	I	felt	invited.	It	was	at	the	IDEC	2008	conference	in	Vancouver	where	this	study	became	possible,	thanks	to	the	Windsor	House	community.	In	August	2009,	I	moved	to	Vancouver	with	my	family	to	start	my	doctoral	studies	at	the	Department	of	Curriculum	and	Pedagogy	at	the	University	of	British	Columbia.	After	we	had	arrived	in	Vancouver,	I	visited	the	school	several	times.	However,	I	was	not	ready	to	delve	into	this	study	right	away.	As	W.	Pinar	(personal	communication,	May	1,	2012)	suggested	in	one	of	our	conversations,	we	first	needed	to	study	our	stories	and	get	lost.	This	journey	of	exploring	the	notion	of	conversing	took	me	back	to	my	desired	dialogue	in	the	conflict	zone	I	was	born	into—Palestine	and	Israel.	In	this	personal	inquiry,	I	was	able	to	deconstruct,	reflect,	wonder,	and	reconstruct	my	own	(hi)story.	Studying	dialogue	in	a	context	that	was	close	to	my	heart	allowed	me	to	recognize	and	question	connections	between	the	theory	and	practice	of	dialogue	beyond	democratic	education.	At	the	IDEC	conference	in	2013,	Meghan	Carrico	and	I	realized	that	the	time	had	arrived	for	my	study	with	Windsor	House.	I	felt	the	need	to	connect	first	with	the	Windsor	House	community	and	build	trust	before	offering	this	study.	I	decided	to	start	with	volunteering	once	a	week	for	a	year	at	Windsor	House.	During	the	2013–2014	school	year,	I	helped	in	the	school	with	whatever	was	needed.	December	2015	marked	the	official	beginning	of	the	study,	when	I	had	completed	my	maternity	leave.	This	long	beginning	created	a	space	for	an	interplay	of	relationship,	trust,	communication,	willingness,	and	courage	to	enter	into	dialogue.	During	my	volunteering	at	Windsor	House,	I	learned	that	the	community	room	(i.e.,	the	kitchen)	was	a	significantly	important	place	for	the	creation	of	meaning,	understanding,	collaboration,	and	relationship,	as	well	as	taking	in	sustenance.	I	noted	that	this	happens	more	often	between	students	or	between	students	and	their	teachers,	but	not	so	often	between	teachers.	I	also	learned	from	and	with	the	community	that	one	of	the	desires	of	the	educators	who	wished	to	take	part	in	this	study	was	their	interest	in	allowing	meaning	to	come	through	art-making	(e.g.,	cooking),	not	only	through	conversations.	However,	the	idea	of	creating	meaning	through	art-making	made	several	educators	uncomfortable	at	first,	as	they	did	not		 96	consider	themselves	artists	by	any	means.	At	the	same	time	they	expressed	their	willingness	to	explore	and	engage	in	creative	activities	that	were	familiar	to	them,	such	as	cooking.	Many	of	the	educators	commented	that	if	cooking	was	considered	art,	they	wanted	to	be	called	artists.	We	were	eager	to	cook	collaboratively.	Therefore,	starting	from	the	common	ground	of	cooking	offered	an	aesthetic	experience	for	all	our	senses.	Sharing	food	incorporates	stories,	experiences,	relationships,	memories,	and	understandings	into	a	lived-embodied	experience,	which	integrates	personal	and	historical	context	to	our	complicated	conversation	of	democratic	education	in	this	site-specific	research	(Merleau-Ponty,	2012).	Although	these	personal	contexts	were	not	the	core	issue	in	this	research,	it	was	important	for	us	to	understand	how	each	participant	entered	the	creative	processes.	The	community	kitchen	was	the	situated	space	to	start	our	creation	of	meaning	as	a	group	at	Windsor	House.	Being	in	the	kitchen	at	Windsor	House	felt,	as	Irwin	(2004)	says	in	relation	to	the	life	of	artist/researcher/teacher,	like	“existence	that	integrates	knowing,	doing,	and	making	…	flow	between	intellect,	feeling,	and	practice”	(p.	29).	Undertaking	the	Study	Once	participants	agreed	to	join	this	inquiry,	they	were	asked	to	take	part	in	the	following	three	study	stages	that	were	undertaken	over	a	period	of	6	months:	(a)	small-group,	unstructured	entry	interviews,	(b)	group	meetings	while	cooking	collaboratively,	and	(c)	small-group	or	individual	unstructured	exit	interviews.	At	each	of	these	stages	I	accommodated	all	participants’	schedule	restrictions	as	much	as	possible.	Stage	1:	Small-group,	unstructured	entry	interviews.	Of	the	22	staff,	16	educators	chose	to	participate.	Educators	were	asked	to	participate	in	an	unstructured	interview	in	which	they	were	invited	to	share	their	meaning	of	democratic	education.	These	interviews	offered	each	teacher	an	opportunity	to	reflect	on	her	or	his	personal	experiences	and	understanding	of	democratic	education.	I	arranged	for	the	interviews	to	be	audio-recorded	and	I	also	took	written	notes.	Stage	2:	Group	meetings	while	cooking	collaboratively.	We	conducted	four	meetings,	each	of	which	were	3	hours	in	duration.	Within	these	meetings	the	participants	took	part	in	complicated	conversations	as	a	whole	group	while	collaboratively	cooking.	The		 97	conversations	focused	on	the	meaning	of	democratic	education	and	its	mechanisms.	The	intention	of	these	complicated	conversations	was	to	learn	from	and	participate	in	creating	meaning	in	third	spaces,	in	which	the	educational	experience	of	democratic	education	occurs.	I	recorded	these	meetings	through	pictures,	written	notes,	and	videos.	Stage	3:	Small-group	or	individual	unstructured	exit	interviews.	I	asked	educators	to	participate	in	unstructured	interviews	following	the	last	group	meeting.	The	interviews	took	place	in	small	groups	and	were	the	final	data	collection	phase.	These	were	the	introductory	interviews	and	they	were	conducted	in	groups	of	three	to	four	participants.		Although	I	offered	the	choice	of	being	cited	in	this	study	with	pseudonyms,	all	participants	chose	to	be	identified	using	their	own	first	names.	Thus,	throughout	the	thesis,	all	names	referenced	are	the	actual	names	of	participants.		First	interview	–	December	9,	2015.	Four	participants	took	part	in	this	interview.	Two	of	the	staff	had	worked	at	Windsor	House	for	many	years	and	the	other	two	for	few	years.	This	opportunity	of	sharing	why	and	when	they	joined	Windsor	House	and	this	study	brought	up	ordinary	moments	and	stories	that	helped	to	make	this	interview	personal	and	meaningful.		• Meron	had	taught	for	10	years	at	other	schools	prior	to	becoming	a	Windsor	House	staff	member.	She	arrived	in	Vancouver	with	her	children	in	1999.	She	had	taught	at	Windsor	House	for	17	years	at	the	time	of	the	interview.	Meron	joined	the	study	because	she	wanted	to	support	my	work	on	a	personal	level;	she	also	believes	research	on	democratic	education	is	important.	• Heather	had	been	involved	in	the	school	a	bit	longer	then	Meron.	She	arrived	in	Vancouver	with	her	daughters,	but	not	for	long—she	stayed	and	they	left.	She	loves	the	school	philosophy.	Heather	joined	the	research	because	it	sounded	fun,	it	is	nice	to	get	together	with	all	staff	members,	and	she	is	interested	in	the	study.	• Jason	first	visited	Windsor	House	in	2005	when	his	daughter	was	4	years	old	and	applying	for	Kindergarten.	He	had	taught	at	Windsor	House	for	5	years	at	the	time	of		 98	the	interview.	He	joined	the	research	due	to	our	long-time	friendship.	He	respects	the	fact	I	am	doing	this	work	and	wants	to	support	my	study.	• Bronwen	had	been	a	Windsor	House	parent	for	4–5	years	and	a	Windsor	House	staff	member	for	3–4	years.	She	chose	to	participate	in	this	study	because	she	sees	me	as	a	member	of	the	community	and	she	wants	to	support	my	work.	Also,	the	longer	she	is	at	Windsor	House,	the	more	she	realizes	that	the	work	of	being	engaged	in	the	community	is	really	what	democracy	is,	and	she	feels	it	is	important	work	for	the	world.	Second	interview	–	December	14,	2015.	Three	people	took	part	in	this	interview.	Two	participants	had	worked	at	Windsor	House	for	many	years,	and	the	other	one	was	new	to	the	school,	to	democratic	education,	and	to	the	education	system	in	general.	The	opportunity	of	sharing	why	and	when	they	joined	Windsor	House	and	this	study	brought	to	my	attention	the	need	to	explore	plurality,	not	only	in	meaning	and	perspective	but	also	in	food	choices	during	the	research.		1. Kelley	arrived	at	Winsor	House	19	years	ago	as	a	substitute	teacher	without	having	any	background	about	the	school.	He	felt	connected	with	the	way	it	runs,	the	philosophy,	and	the	roles	teachers	could	take.	Kelley	joined	the	faculty	18	years	ago	and	has	never	left.	He	wanted	to	help	with	this	study	because	I	am	part	of	the	community,	and	he	feels	he	should	help	people	who	have	been	supportive	of	the	community.	2. Holly	started	as	a	family	member	3	years	ago	after	having	a	hard	time	in	mainstream	schools,	and	she	happened	to	stumble	upon	Windsor	House.	In	the	second	year	she	joined	as	a	staff	member.	She	feels	that	she	has	grown	tremendously	from	her	affiliation.	She	joined	the	study	because	anything	she	done	at	Windsor	House	that	was	extracurricular	in	nature	has	been	amazing.	3. Meghan,	when	studying	and	travelling,	received	a	phone	call	from	her	mother	(the	founder	of	Windsor	House)	asking	her	to	come	and	replace	her	for	a	long	period	of	time	because	she	was	sick.	Meghan	came	back	to	Windsor	House	without	the	intention	of	staying.	During	that	time,	she	challenged	all	the	rules	and	structure	her	mom	had	created	with	the	students	based	on	her	experience	growing	up	at	Windsor		 99	House	as	a	free	school,	which	over	time	had	become	much	more	structured	and	rules	based.	This	encounter	created	a	division	within	the	community	that	led	to	a	split:	one	group	supported	of	the	free	school	philosophy	and	practice,	and	the	other	chose	to	go	back	to	other	more	traditional	mainstream	schools.	Meghan	added	that	she	could	not	teach	in	a	way	that	is	coercive.	She	did	not	intend	to	teach	at	Windsor	House,	but	she	has	come	to	love	it.	Meghan	joined	the	study	because	she	loves	doctoral	research	about	Windsor	House	and	she	has	had	a	personal	connection	with	me	through	the	international	democratic	schools	community.	Third	interview	–	December	15,	2015.	Three	people	took	part	in	this	interview.	Two	of	them	have	worked	at	Windsor	House	for	many	years	and	the	other	one	has	been	at	the	school	for	few	years.	This	opportunity	of	sharing	why	and	when	they	joined	Windsor	House	and	this	study	highlighted	the	importance	of	personal	communication	before	the	official	starting	date	of	the	research.		1. Linda	decided	to	join	the	study	after	several	good	conversations	she	had	with	me.	She	is	excited	about	me	doing	doctoral	research	involving	Windsor	House.	She	thinks	that	the	research	could	help	Windsor	House	because	the	participants	benefit	the	most.	2. Helen,	the	founder	of	Windsor	House,	was	delighted	to	be	part	of	this	study	because	she	feels	that	anything	that	I	am	doing	is	important.	We	have	known	each	other	for	more	than	10	years	at	the	time	of	the	interview.	Helen	founded	the	school	for	her	daughter	who	did	not	do	well	in	the	mainstream	system.		3. Andre	wanted	to	support	this	research	because	he	has	been	investigating	democratic	education	and	advocating	for	democratic	education.		Fourth	interview	–	December	17,	2015.	Three	people	took	part	in	this	interview.	All	three	participants	have	worked	at	Windsor	House	for	several	years	and	arrived	for	different	reasons.	This	study	and	the	opportunity	of	sharing	why	and	when	they	joined	Windsor	House	allowed	them	to	find	shared	perspectives	and	clarify	expectations.		1. David	arrived	at	Windsor	House	when	he	was	11	years	old	after	a	long	journey.	He	hated	school,	left	his	first	school,	tried	other	schools,	homeschooled	(informally),		 100	tried	more	schools,	and	eventually	found	Windsor	House.	Since	arriving,	in	some	ways	he	has	never	left	Windsor	House;	after	he	graduated,	he	returned	to	apply	for	a	Winsor	House	position—and	got	it.	What	brought	him	back	was	the	feeling	that	he	wanted	to	help	kids	have	the	same	powerful,	wonderful,	and	transformative	experience	that	he	had	as	a	kid.	He	joined	the	Windsor	House	staff	in	September	2011	and	has	worked	full	time	ever	since.	He	was	happy	to	participate	in	this	study	because	he	wants	to	better	understand	Windsor	House,	as	well	as	other	democratic	schools	in	general.	He	thinks	the	movement	of	child-centred	education	can	learn	a	lot	from	itself	and	it	needs	to	do	this	learning	before	it	can	grow	to	become	more	mainstream.	2. Ray	felt	he	was	fortunate	that	the	Gulf	Islands	school	district	chose	to	accept	Windsor	House	into	their	group	because	after	leaving	the	Gulf	Islands	he	was	able	to	find	a	position	at	Windsor	House,	a	circumstance	for	which	he	is	eternally	grateful.	His	time	at	the	school	has	helped	him	grow	on	many	levels.	He	started	at	the	school	about	4	years	ago.	He	took	part	in	the	study	because	he	was	asked	by	a	person	he	sensed	was	dedicated	and	because	he	wanted	to	represent	the	diversity	of	the	staff.	3. Tina	was	looking	for	a	better	environment	for	her	13-year-old	son	who	did	not	fit	the	mainstream	school	system.	They	had	already	tried	homeschooling	and	found	that	was	not	a	good	fit	either.	She	came	to	the	school	as	a	parent	in	2007	and	did	the	parent	participation	thing	so	well	that	they	asked	to	hire	her	as	an	education	assistant	in	2010.	She	worked	as	an	education	assistant	for	a	couple	years	and	then	they	hired	her	as	the	school’s	life	coach	in	2012.	She	now	works	part	time	as	an	education	assistant	and	part	time	as	a	life	coach,	mentoring	staff	with	their	coaching	approach	to	education,	teaching	new	staff	the	coaching	approach,	and	offering	coaching	workshops	to	the	wider	community.	Fifth	interview	–	January	11,	2016.	Three	people	attended	this	interview.	All	three	of	them	have	worked	at	Windsor	House	for	few	years.	This	study	and	the	opportunity	of	sharing	why	and	when	they	joined	Windsor	House	brought	to	my	attention	the	fact	that	only	three	of	the	participants	refer	to	themselves	as	teachers.			 101	1. Corin	said	her	children	came	to	the	community	first.	She	followed	her	children	but	knew	several	people	from	the	community	for	many	years,	so	the	school	was	not	new	to	her.	Corin	had	taught	at	Windsor	House	for	3	years	at	the	time	of	the	interview.	She	decided	to	join	the	study	because	she	also	did	some	research	on	the	school	and	is	happy	to	return	the	favour	by	participating.	2. Ellen	first	heard	about	the	Windsor	House	School	from	her	high	school	friend,	who	was	sending	her	two	children	to	Windsor	House.	They	had	many	philosophical	conversations	that	piqued	Ellen’s	interest.	Then	she	attended	a	reconciliation	conference,	where	she	met	Meghan	(the	principal).	At	that	conference	Meghan	and	Ellen	talked	about	science	education	in	a	broader	perspective,	including	Ellen’s	cosmology	studies	and	her	culturally	based	math	and	science	work	with	a	First	Nation	community.	Meghan	then	invited	Ellen	to	visit	Windsor	House.	A	year	later,	when	there	were	changes	in	her	school	district,	Ellen	visited	the	school	and	joined	a	Windsor	House	overnight	community	camping	trip,	which	made	the	final	connection.	She	decided	to	join	this	study	because	she	thinks	it	is	interesting.		3. Kristen	came	to	Windsor	House	after	leaving	her	previous	teaching	position	as	she	was	looking	to	teach	outdoor	education.	A	series	of	events	led	her	to	Meaghan,	who	mentioned	that	Windsor	House	was	hiring,	so	she	joined	the	school.	She	did	not	come	with	any	background	of	democratic	education;	she	had	only	taught	in	traditional	mainstream	schools.	At	the	time	of	this	study	she	was	in	her	first	year	teaching	at	Windsor	House,	but	she	had	many	years	teaching	in	mainstream	education	prior	to	that.	She	decided	to	join	the	study	because	she	thought	it	was	a	good	way	for	her	to	participate,	as	she	was	new	to	the	school	community.	She	felt	it	was	a	way	to	get	to	know	people	more,	and	she	did	not	have	much	education	or	experience	in	democratic	education.	She	felt	the	study	was	a	good	way	for	her	to	enter	into	the	conversation.	Ingredients	are	ready	for	our	cooking.	To	summarize	this	chapter,	rather	than	focusing	on	methodologies	only,	I	chose	to	present	the	methodologies	as	the	paths	we	took	together	on	our	quest	to	collaboratively	create	meaning.	By	doing	so,	this	chapter	provided	a	sense	of	what	skills	and	tools	supported	the	participants	and	me	during	the	study.	In	the		 102	next	chapter,	I	review	the	details	and	examples	of	participants’	life	experiences	from	the	study	process	of	what	happened.			 103	Chapter	5:	I	Am	Here	With	You					Figure	6.	Hospitality.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.				“What	is	more	important	is	to	live	the	life	of	inquiry	in	the	liminal	messy	spaces	between	the	roles,	activities,	and	sites	of	who	I	am	professionally	and	personally”	(Irwin,	2006,	p.	79)			 		 104	I	am	crying	the	pain	of	killing	and	dying	around	me.	I	am	crying	the	flags	that	ask	to	separate	us.	I	am	crying	the	walls	that	divide	us	from	them.	I	am	crying	the	fear	of	not	knowing	how	to	bring	us	together.	I	am	crying	the	lack	of	togetherness	and	trust.	I	am	crying	the	money	before	hearts.	I	am	crying	the	absence	of	sense	of	belonging	to	human	tribe.	I	am	crying	the	fight	over	who	owns	the	hummus.	I	am	crying	the	need	to	live	one	truth.	I	am	crying	the	ego	fights	over	ownership.	I	am	crying	the	fear	of	encountering	changes.	I	am	crying	the	pain	of	mothers	giving	birth	and	losing	their	children	to	war.	I	am	crying	the	personal	cry	that	goes	through	layers	of	details.		I	am	crying	the	cry	that	needs	to	be	cried.	I	am	here,	with	you,	at	home	and	far	from	home.	I	am	here,	with	you,	wishing	for	a	pause.	I	am	here,	with	you,	wanting	to	remember	that	our	voices	matter.	I	am	here,	with	you,	looking	in	the	eyes	of	plurality.	I	am	here,	with	you,	not	knowing	what's	next.	I	am	here,	with	you,	coming	from	the	heart.	I	am	here,	with	you,	hoping	for	more	voices	and	less	wars.	I	am	here	with	you	to	inquire	into	our	liminal	messy	spaces.	I	am	here,	with	you,	to	listen	to	your	stories.	I	am	here,	with	you,	to	share	with	you	my	story.	I	am	here,	with	you.	Are	you	with	me?			 		 105	When	I	was	asked	to	join	a	panel	named	Israel,	Canada,	and	Me	in	the	age	of	Trump,	I	was	not	prepared	to	cry.	Posters	of	the	event	were	up	around	the	city,	waiting	to	be	seen.	An	article	was	published	in	the	Jewish	Independent	Canada	newspaper	with	all	panellists’	names.	I	felt	prepared.	However,	the	night	before	the	panel	I	began	to	feel	different.	While	putting	my	thoughts	in	writing	for	the	panel,	I	ended	up	crying—crying	the	poem	that	began	this	section.	In	this	experience	I	realized	the	importance	of	reflexive	living	inquiry	and	how	hard	it	is	to	stay	open	and	inviting,	to	welcome	dialogue	with	people	who	perceive	democracy,	human	rights,	and	freedom	of	speech	differently	than	I	do,	as	if	the	topic	was	almost	not	the	core	of	our	encounter	but	the	encounter	itself.	This	relates	to	the	encounter	of	our	plurality,	as	mentioned	in	the	opening	quote	of	this	chapter,	“in	the	liminal	messy	spaces	between	the	roles,	activities,	and	sites	of	who	I	am	professionally	and	personally”	(Irwin,	2006,	p.	79).	It	is	also	the	encounter	of	our	ontologies,	that	is,	each	attendee’s	beliefs	about	reality	before	we	even	start	the	conversation.	I	came	to	realize	that	coming	to	have	a	complicated	conversation	about	such	a	loaded	topic,	as	politics,	without	understanding	the	range	of	views	we	hold	about	reality	in	that	hall	might	limit	our	ability	to	listen	to	each	other.	It	was	crucial	to	remind	ourselves	that	reality	is	not	binary.	The	attendees	in	the	hall	could	not	be	divided	into	common	simple	division	of	them	and	us.	Although	there	was	such	a	feel	in	the	hall,	there	were	definitely	multiple	ontologies	in	the	hall.	In	the	moment	though,	it	could	be	perceived	as	if	the	hall	could	be	divided	into	those	who	came	from	the	realism	ontology	and	those	who	came	from	the	relativism	ontology.	By	claiming	that,	I	suggest	that	there	were	attendees	who	perceived	reality	as	a	collection	of	facts	and	truth	that	could	be	deemed	to	be	right	and	wrong.	Those	individuals	may	embrace	a	realism	ontology.	On	the	other	hand,	some	attendees	perceived	reality	as	less	defined	and	more	relatively	in	flux.	Those	individuals	may	tend	toward	a	relativism	ontology.	However,	there	were	attendances	on	the	whole	spectrum	between	these	two	ontologies.	In	that	case,	from	my	personal	experience	within	conflict	zones,	complicated	conversations	could	switch	quickly	to	blaming	that	involve	terms	such	as	lies,	blindness,	or	irresponsibly,	since	people	truly	experience	reality	differently.	In	my	experience,	while	people	are	not	aware	of	and	open	to	a	different	set	of	beliefs	about	reality,	it	is	nearly	impossible	to	bridge	listening	and	sharing	plurality	in	a	safe	space.			 106	The	invitation	to	join	this	panel	was	an	interruption	for	me	yet	it	offered	me	an	opportunity	to	think	beyond	a	personal	sphere.	At	the	same	time,	I	felt	it	was	an	invitation	to	explore	an	enhanced	meaning	of	dialogue	in	a	democratic	setting,	while	being	challenged	on	a	personal	level	in	the	context	of	the	conflict	that	I	come	from,	that	is,	the	Palestinian	and	Israeli	conflict.		The	second	interruption	arrived	the	night	before	the	panel,	when	all	participants	were	notified	that	the	event	would	need	to	be	patrolled	by	police	officers	because	a	right-wing	group	planned	to	interrupt	the	event.	Interruption	after	interruption	calls	for	our	adaptations.	The	event	interrupted	me	in	different	ways.	In	the	process	of	planning	the	event,	creating	the	advertisement	for	the	event,	and	then	participating	in	the	event,	there	were	opportunities	for	me	to	re-live	the	questions	and	challenges	this	study	explores.	This	experience	afforded	me	an	opportunity	to	reconsider	my	understanding	of	listening	in	the	Windsor	House	environment.	In	a	way,	it	felt	like	a	call	from	home,	where	dialogue	is	desired	by	many	and	yet	feels	out	of	reach.	The	experience	was	asking	me	to	create	bridges	for	experiencing	hospitality	in	a	deep	sense	of	relation	with	others.	I	experienced	hospitality	when	I	became	a	stranger	yet,	ironically	feeling	welcome	to	begin	again	in	a	democratic	way.	This	discussion	of	the	panel	links	back	to	this	study,	where	I	was	called	to	listen	and	be	with	all	participants	despite	our	differences	and	interruptions.	I	strove	to	remain	aware	that	we	arrive	from	different	ontologies,	terms,	and	values,	although	we	may	be	perceived	as	a	homogeneous	group	with	clear	boundaries.		This	section	conveys	the	sense	of	the	inquiry	that	took	place	throughout	this	study.	The	themes	grew	organically	from	participating	in	the	study,	listening	to	audio	files,	watching	videos	from	this	study,	and	from	my	personal	reflexive	inquiry.	The	themes	span	gatherings	and	interviews.	I	named	the	themes	after	reflecting	upon	participants’	comments,	readings,	and	my	experiences	as	a	researcher.	I	began	the	analysis	process	by	listening	to	the	interviews	and	the	videos,	which	I	then	transcribed.	I	continued	with	colour	coding	of	the	transcript,	paying	attention	to	different	themes	that	emerged	in	the	making	of	meaning.	I	viewed	this	process	as	a	spiral,	as	my	analysis	repeatedly	brought	me	to	a	point	that	I	realized	I	needed	to	return	back	and	continue	differently.	Then,	after	ending	up	with	far	too	many	themes,	I	tried	to	create	an	umbrella	coding,	one	that	included	several	related		 107	themes.	At	that	stage	of	the	process,	I	realized	the	themes	were	not	linear	but	rather	crossed	meetings	and	interviews.	Each	theme	tells	different	yet	connected	stories.	There	is	no	clear	division	between	themes.	In	the	process	of	sewing	this	quilt	of	themes	together	in	creating	the	story	of	this	study,	I	came	to	terms	with	the	notion	of	tension	that	Biesta	(2015b)	offers,	that	is,	the	tension	that	exists	between	being	in	the	world	without	destroying	the	world	or	withdrawing	from	it.	How	one	analyzes	the	collected	stories	and	then	re-presents	them	in	a	thesis	is	also	about	being	with	the	stories	and	finding	ways	to	engage	with	them,	while	not	destroying	them.	Steeping	in	this	tension	takes	courage,	as	it	forces	one	to	encounter	the	work	of	frustration	and	resistance.	This	is	the	middle	ground	between	these	two	ends,	which	Biesta	(2015b)	calls	“exist[ing]	in	the	world	in	a	grownup	way”	(5:06).	The	two	ends	are	the	destroying	mode	(in	the	name	of	one’s	desires)	and	the	withdrawing	mode	(which	leads	to	self-destruction).	The	frustrating	ground	is	the	gatherings	and	feasts	because	participants	had	to	go	through	and	engage	with	resistance	(Biesta,	2015c).	At	times,	moments	occurred	at	the	gatherings	when	frustrations	arose	and	could	destroy	the	establishment	of	dialogue.	Although	these	moments	of	encounters	and	conflict	are	the	heart	of	democratic	dialogue,	the	fear	of	withdrawing	or	destroying	was	present.	Bickford	(1996),	who	explores	the	process	of	listening	in	a	pluralistic	democracy,	asserts	it	is	not	about	reaching	consensus	but	rather	staying	in	the	space	of	listening	and	having	differences.	It	is	important	to	do	so	in	such	a	way	that	another	conversation	is	possible.	In	that	sense,	dialogue	is	always	in	the	making	and	can	never	be	declared.	Fortunately,	throughout	the	interviews	and	gatherings,	no	participants	chose	to	withdraw	from	the	research,	The	participants	gathered	together	to	create	encounters	of	self	and	the	world,	which	resulted	in	the	themes	discussed	in	the	section	that	follow.		And	the	story	begins.		Individual,	Collective,	and	Democratic	From	the	perspective	of	democratic	education,	the	commonly	used	discourse	of	‘control’	in	education	among	policymakers	and	politicians	may	be	perceived	as	a		 108	nondemocratic	act.	While	in	mainstream	educational	environments	there	is	an	attempt	to	meet	these	standards,	that	is,	the	desire	of	achieving	specific	input	and	output	goals,	in	democratic	education	it	is	the	other	way	around.	A	controlled	environment	is	not	encouraged	and	is	often	criticized.	Although	mainstream	education	may	or	may	not	achieve	these	input	and	output	goals,	it	remains	a	desirable	ambition	(Biesta,	2010).	On	the	contrary,	in	democratic	education,	the	discourse	is	around	individuals’	needs,	their	ways	of	relating	to	and	connecting	with	each	other	as	a	collective,	and	how	it	all	comes	together	with	the	assistance	of	a	democratic	structure.	From	my	perspective,	Windsor	House	offers	time	for	individuals	to	be	present	without	rushing	into	seeding	thoughts.	It	is	a	school	environment	that	is	not	excessively	busy	with	transmitting	knowledge,	but	rather,	is	concerned	about	individuals	finding	their	own	path.	As	Helen	shared	with	Corin	at	the	second	gathering:1		My	formal	schooling	was	useless,	or	worse	than	useless,	and	my	teacher	training	was	a	joke,	so	my	real	learning	happened	at	Windsor	House	…	what	I	learn	more	and	more	is	that	it	depends.	Everything	depends,	right?	So	if	you	get	to	work	with	the	kids	who	say	they	want	to	make	a	film,	but	in	fact,	the	truth	is	that	three	of	them	want	to	make	film,	two	of	them	do	not	want	to	be	left	out,	and	one	of	them	does	not	want	to	do	it	at	all,	but	there	is	some	pressure,	somewhere	…	so	you	are	lucky	if	you	get	the	truth,	where	three	out	of	six,	actually	want	to	do	it.	That’s	the	hard	work	at	Windsor	House	…	that’s	why	I	think	Windsor	House	teachers	work	harder	than	anybody	else.	You	can’t	just	stand	and	deliver.	Which	is	what	I	did	with	45	kids	in	the	regular	system.	I	just	stood,	delivered,	and	if	they	got	it,	good.	If	they	did	not,	I	tested	them	all	and	everything.…	There	are	those	who	don’t	want	to	do	anything,	and	that’s	is	such	a	difficult	thing	for	me	to	work	with.	[It’s]	so	hard,	because	I	so	much	want	the	children	to	produce	something,	so	we	can	say,	“See,	Windsor	House	works,	right?”	As	Helen	stated,	the	needs	of	each	student	in	the	group	requires	careful	listening.	My	encounters	with	the	Windsor	House	community	gave	me	an	opportunity	to	consider	individual	needs	from	a	more	holistic	viewpoint	and	with	a	more	thoughtful	approach.																																																									1	The	descriptions	include	sharing	data	from	different	gatherings	and	interviews.	The	data	are	presented	by	theme,	not	shared	in	chronological	order.		 109	Reflecting	back	on	my	lived	experience,	I	realize	that	most,	if	not	all,	of	the	collaborations,	communities,	and	groups	with	whom	I	was	involved	were	built	on	the	foundations	of	collective	faith	and/or	collective	needs,	values,	and	thoughts,	rather	than	on	those	of	individuals.	This	realization	was	one	of	my	‘aha’	moments	in	this	journey	with	Windsor	House.	Knowing	that	thoughts	are	an	important	component	in	the	process	of	individual	and	collective	becoming,	it	is	necessary	to	provide	space	and	time	for	thoughts	to	be	processed	individually	and	collectively.	As	Bohm	(2004)	elaborates:		The	trouble	is	that	some	of	those	results	that	thought	produces	are	considered	to	be	very	important	and	valuable.	Thought	produced	the	nation,	and	it	says	that	the	nation	has	an	extremely	high	value,	a	supreme	value,	which	overrides	almost	everything	else.	The	same	may	be	said	about	religion.	Therefore,	freedom	of	thought	is	interfered	with,	because	if	the	nation	has	high	value	it	is	necessary	to	continue	to	think	that	the	nation	has	high	value.	Therefore	you’ve	got	to	create	a	pressure	to	think	that	way.	You’ve	got	to	have	an	impulse,	and	make	sure	everybody	has	got	the	impulse,	to	go	on	thinking	that	way	about	his	nation,	his	religion,	his	family,	or	whatever	it	is	that	he	gives	high	value.	He’s	got	to	defend	it.	(p.	10)	Bohm	(2004)	clarifies	the	roles	of	collective	thoughts	within	individual	thoughts.	He	claims	that	defending	collective	thoughts	may	make	one	defend	“a	lot	of	things	you	would	rather	not	accept	by	saying	they	are	wrong”	(Bohm,	2004,	p.	10).	Bohm’s	(2004)	clarification	shed	light	on	practices	regarding	individual	and	collective	thoughts	in	the	Windsor	House	community.	Mainstream	education’s	main	focus	is	preparation	to	actively	join	the	dominant	culture.	Within	Windsor	House,	the	situation	is	almost	the	opposite,	in	which	individual	thoughts	receive	the	time	and	space	they	need.	At	Windsor	House,	community	members	and	staff	provide	the	time,	space,	and	respect	to	individual	thoughts	and	needs	for	each	member	in	the	community.	Thus,	individuals	reflect	and	explore	upon	their	way	in	the	world	before	they	work	with	others	to	create	their	collective	thoughts	known.	Doing	so	brings	to	attention	an	important	question:	Do	collective	thoughts	exist	independently,	or	do	they	interrupt	individual	thoughts	once	they	are	brought	to	our	attention?	I	find	this	question	to	be	important	because	I	believe	that	avoiding	the	discussion	about	the	existence	and	influence	of	collective	thoughts	might	be	a	risky	act,	as		 110	avoiding	the	influences	of	the	collective	thoughts	does	not	take	those	the	influences	away.	Thus,	it	is	critical	to	bring	all	thoughts	and	their	influences	to	individual	and	collective	awareness.	This	realization	also	brought	me	to	think	about	how	respect	and	trust	on	a	personal	level	are	essential	for	people’s	growth.	I	realized	the	importance	of	coming	from	the	individual	perspective	first,	holding	this	space	for	each	one	of	the	students	(and,	at	times,	for	the	educators	and	family	members	too),	and	only	later	moving	to	the	collective	needs	and	thoughts.	As	Holly	shared	during	her	first	interview:		I	am	really	quiet	and	introverted	and	sensitive,	and	the	community	room	is	really	big	for	being	that	way	…	I	stepped	into	big	thing	that	I	did	not	create	it	(it	was	Tina).	It	was	a	big	thing	that	passed	on.	It	was	wild	and	crazy,	and	I	did	it.	I	would	not	trade	it	for	the	world.	It	made	me	grow	so	much	as	a	person.	I	did	it,	and	again,	I	would	not	trade	it.	It	was	really	powerful.	I	have	never	grown	more	in	my	life,	probably	in	these	couple	of	years	then	I	have	ever	before,	maybe	when	I	was	infant,	I	grew	so	much.		I	asked	Holly,	“What	have	been	you	asked?	Create	boundaries?	Create	safe	space	for	different	voices?”	Holly	continued:		[I	have]	develop[ed]	awareness	for	the	moment	and	myself,	and	I	have	been	forced	to	look	at	myself	when	I	have	not	wanted	to.	It	is	almost	a	Buddhist	experience	for	me.	I	have	found	that	I	am	not	really	made	for	that,	and	so	I	do	not	do	it	any	more,	and	with	the	help	of	Meghan	and	everybody	is	so	supportive	here	that	I	am	able	to	find	other	ways	to	be	here	and	not	have	it	wreck	me	…	in	a	quitter	place.…	It	is	fantastic.	It	is	way	easier	having	the	support	from	this	community.	That	is	something	huge	because	I	am	not	religious	person	and	I	do	not	have	tons	of	family	here.	I	have	found	a	community	that	I	did	not	have.		This	intention	to	provide	hospitality,	in	which	people	have	the	time	and	space	to	experience	and	engage	in	the	world	without	the	pressure	of	the	collective	thoughts,	as		 111	Derrida	(2000)	offers,	is	a	common	practice	in	the	Windsor	House	environment.	Bohm	(2004)	explains:	Thought	defends	its	basic	assumptions	against	evidence	that	they	may	be	wrong.	In	order	to	deal	with	this,	we	have	got	to	look	at	thought,	because	the	problem	is	originating	in	thought.	Usually	when	you	have	a	problem,	you	say,	“I	must	think	about	it	to	solve	it.”	But	what	I’m	trying	to	say	is	that	thought	is	the	problem.	What,	therefore,	are	we	going	to	do?	We	could	consider	two	kinds	of	thought—individual	and	collective.	Individually	I	can	think	of	various	things,	but	a	great	deal	of	thought	is	what	we	do	together.	In	fact,	most	of	it	comes	from	the	collective	background.	Language	is	collective.	Most	of	our	basic	assumptions	come	from	our	society,	including	all	our	assumptions	about	how	society	works,	about	what	sort	of	person	we	are	supposed	to	be,	and	about	relationships,	institutions,	and	so	on.	Therefore	we	need	to	pay	attention	to	thought	both	individually	and	collectively.	(pp.	10–11)	It	is	important	to	recognize	the	need	to	support	these	foundations	for	individuals	to	shape,	question,	and	create	their	own	experience	in	the	world,	and	not	develop	foundations	based	on	collective	background	and	thoughts.	At	Windsor	House,	educators	do	so	as	a	way	to	host	others.	This	is	a	relational	act	of	a	living	chain	of	communication,	which	Bakhtin	(1965)	refers	to	in	the	context	of	language	and	the	ongoing	meaning	of	words.	As	Helen	shared	in	the	third	gathering	regarding	listening	to	whom	the	students	are	and	let	them	co-create	and	shape,	I	have	moved	from	being	an	absolute	dictator,	when	I	was	teaching	in	a	regular	public	school	…	It	was	fun	to	just	sit	back	most	of	the	time	and	see	how	people	work	things	out,	and	I	was	amazingly	impressed	with	the	incredible	solutions	they	come	up	with	that	we	never	thought	about…	I	find	this	invitation	to	choose	if	one	desires	to	join	the	collective	at	one	point,	allows	people	to	experience	something	similar	to	what	a/r/tography	offers,	but	in	a	different	way.	This	invitation	links	to	Irwin’s	(2006)	quote	as	she	talks	about	of	the	importance	of	inquiry	for	allowing	ourselves	to	linger	in	liminal	spaces,	while	trying	different	“roles,	activities,	and	sites	of	who	I	am	professionally	and	personally”	(p.	79).	This	liminal	space	that	Irwin	(2006)		 112	refers	to	is	offered	as	part	of	the	whatever	culture	at	Windsor	House,	which	allows	students	to	try	out	different	roles,	characters,	and	standpoints	when	they	feel	ready	or	are	able	to	do	so.	This	provides	students	with	the	freedom	to	choose	to	try	different	sides	of	themselves	if	and	when	they	wish.	This	navigation	and	search	of	their	own	path	is	a	life-long	process.	As	Daniel	Greenberg	(2017)	elaborates:	What	that	does	in	particular	is	respect	the	loneliness	of	the	search	that	each	person	has	for	their	own	path	in	life.	Because	in	reality,	when	all	is	said	and	done,	as	the	existentialists	have	written	about	at	great	length,	everybody	suffers	from	a	degree	of	personal	aloneness	in	the	cosmos,	with	which	they	have	to	be	able	to	come	to	grips.	This	is	understood	and	respected	in	the	school	for	students	of	all	ages,	however	young.	That’s	why	we	don’t	push	people,	force	people	together,	force	people	to	cooperate,	force	people	to	collaborate,	force	people	to	get	along.	We	let	them	be	alone	just	as	we	let	them	be	together.	We	let	them	be	themselves.	(para.	45)		Greenberg	(2017)	clarifies	the	importance	of	letting	people	be	whatever	they	need	and	want	to	be,	and	doing	so	out	of	respect.	The	school,	educators,	and	authority	do	not	know	what	works	or	what	is	right.	Although	Sudbury	Valley	School	(the	institution	that	Greenberg	wrote	about),	Windsor	House,	and	other	democratic	education	settings	may	be	perceived	as	mainly	focusing	on	the	individual	(i.e.,	fostering	an	‘it	is	only	about	me’	attitude).	However,	it	is	important	to	recognize,	as	Maslow’s	(as	cited	in	McLeod,	2017)	hierarchy	of	needs	refers	to,	that	basic	needs	must	be	met	before	self-actualization	can	be	achieved.	Although	there	are	different	ways	to	challenge	this	hierarchy	for	not	taking	into	consideration	other	dimensions	of	life	beyond	animalistic	drives,	such	as	selflessness,	spiritual,	cultural,	and	charity,	I	find	Maslow’s	hierarchy	of	needs	to	be	a	useful	template	that	sometimes	helps	people	to	understand	why	and	how	individuals	act	as	they	do.	As	Helen	(the	founder	of	Windsor	House)	states,	“I	found	that	you	cannot	force	the	flower.…	I	learned	to	be	less	certain	about	individual	children’s	needs.”	This	understating	of	being	aware	of	personal	needs	while	also	being	less	certain	about	what	works	for	others,	leads	people	to	ask	for	clarifications	and	enables	the	consent	culture,	that	is,	“understanding	that	each	person	knows	what	is	best	for	themselves.	You	have	no	right	to	use	your	power	against	them	for	their	decision	not	to	participate”	(Only	With	Consent,	n.d.,	para.	5).		 113	While	welcoming	individual	needs	and	valuing	personal	journeys,	the	questions	of	how,	where,	and	by	whom	the	collective	forms	remain	open.	The	collective	in	democratic	education	environment	is	formed	through	people’s	need	to	come	together,	rather	than	an	imposed	structure.	In	this	context,	at	the	second	gathering,	David	(a	staff	member)	offered	the	continuum	concept	(Liedloff,	1975),	also	known	also	as	attachment	parenting	(Sears	&	Sears,	2001),	as	his	personal	view	of	this	connection	between	individuals	and	the	collective:	In	attachment	parenting,	you	have	to	hold	the	baby	until	the	baby	says,	“Put	me	down.”	As	soon	as	you	put	the	baby	down,	you	just	create	brain	damage.	The	baby	has	to	get	to	the	point	when	it	says,	“Put	me	down.	I	am	ready.”	Anything	before	that,	it	is	a	traumatic	adjusted	learning	…	creates	the	first	step	into	addiction	needs.	So,	I	think	individuals	need	to	know	themselves	well	enough	to	be	part	of	a	group.	I	do	not	know	why	it	is	so	slow,	but	we	certainly	give	kids	huge	amount	of	time	to	be	individuals,	and	I	think	that	we	see,	at	some	point,	maybe	sometimes	around	16	to	20	years	old,	they	all	lodge	into	being	part	of	the	group.…	They	just	want	to	be	individuals.		They	want	to	be	OK.	As	David	shared,	in	order	to	move	from	individual	needs	to	collective	needs,	one	must	first	address	the	need	for	a	space—each	person	must	recognize	his	or	her	own	needs.	This	gap	is	not	the	same	for	all	individuals,	as	each	person	has	different	reasons,	and	much	depends	on	personal	context.	David	described	holding	the	baby	until	the	child	is	ready	to	be	on	the	floor.	To	put	David’s	understanding	in	a	lived	experience	form,	Helen	(the	founder	of	Windsor	House)	shared	how	amazed	she	is	every	time	she	sees	a	Windsor	House	theatre	production,	as	David	leads	the	students	through	this	process:	“I	am	absolutely	astounded	when	I	go	to	the	production	because	it	is	amazing,	and	I	credit	you	for	creating	that	because	you	patiently	do	whatever	needs	to	be	done.”	This	caring	attitude	towards	all	participants	is	essential.	David	added	that	the	only	reason	the	production	works	is	that	he	spends	time	making	sure	that	people	know	their	cues.	The	expectation	is	clearly	set	that	when	the	audience	is	there,	David	cannot	be	on	stage	with	them.			 114	As	the	exploration	of	individual	and	collective	intersections	continued	in	the	second	gathering,	the	sounds	of	participants	cooking	collaboratively	filled	the	pauses	and	gaps	in	our	conversations—the	sounds	of	cutting	boards	and	washing	vegetables	and	the	smell	of	cooking	permeated	the	room.	The	term	collective	continued	to	unfold	with	new	understandings.	As	Jason	(a	staff	member)	added,	“Based	on	the	person	though,	accommodation	of	nature,	nurture,	whatever	…	learning	to	work	collectively,	or	even	considering	other	people,	can	be	a	life-long	journey,	right?”	Bronwen	continued	discussing	Jason	and	David’s	statements	by	expressing	that	she	thinks	we	need	to	embrace	our	collectivity	as	humans.	She	questioned	the	role	of	adults	in	democratic	education	in	pursuing	the	collective.	Bronwen	believes	staff	can	only	accomplish	this	by	truly	seeing	the	students.	Bronwen	believes	that	fostering	the	collective	is	about	compassion	and	that	democracy	needs	compassion.	With	Bronwen’s	contribution	regarding	compassion	and	the	collective,	different	participants	began	to	link	individual	needs,	collective	needs,	and	democracy.	Corin	added:	For	me	working	together,	collaboratively,	is	the	enactment	of	democracy.	It	is	about	dialogue.	You	cannot	have	dialogue	by	yourself.	You	need	to	be	with	somebody	else;	you	form	your	own	ideas	about	the	world	through	dialogue,	in	relationships	with	the	community.		However,	Ahmed	(2012)	highlights	the	need	to	pay	attention	to	social	and	bodily	disorientation	that	may	limit	our	freedom	of	being	in	relationship	with	the	other.	This	notion	of	forming	one’s	ideas	about	the	world	through	dialogue	is	challenged	by	Ahmed	(2012):	When	a	category	allows	us	to	pass	into	the	world,	we	might	not	notice	that	we	inhabit	that	category.	When	we	are	stopped	or	held	up	by	how	we	inhabit	what	we	inhabit,	then	the	terms	of	habitation	are	revealed	to	us.	We	need	to	rewrite	the	world	from	the	experience	of	not	being	able	to	pass	into	the	world	[that	is	being	able	to	be	with].	(p.	176)	I	view	Ahmed’s	(2012)	notion	of	being	stopped	as	being	afforded	an	opportunity	to	reconsider	one’s	ability	to	pass	another	without	noticing.	To	pass	in	the	public	space	means		 115	that	one	is	not	being	marked	as	an	individual	who	does	not	belong.	On	the	contrary,	being	stopped	means	to	be	marked	by	others	as	one	who	should	not	pass	without	being	asked	for	clarifications	or	permission.	Thus,	while	unfolding	the	notion	of	being	with,	the	collective	is	asked	to	be	aware	of	the	one	who	is	being	stopped	and	is	unable	to	pass	into	the	world.	It	is	the	responsibility	of	those	who	are	not	stopped	to	be	aware	of	their	habitation	and	listen	to	those	who	are	stopped.	This	awareness	that	Ahmed	is	calling	for	requires	active	listening,	which	creates	a	pause	within	a	communication	exchange.	The	pause	may	enable	the	freedom	of	those	who	get	stopped,	and,	in	doing	so,	may	offer	others	the	experience	of	not	being	able	to	pass	into	the	world.	To	bring	it	back	to	the	experience	at	Windsor	House,	during	the	second	gathering,	this	intersection	of	freedom	and	being	stopped	(Ahmed,	2012)	surfaced	30	minutes	into	the	dialogue.	I	offered	an	experiment,	which	was	an	invitation	of	three	random	participants	to	be	the	only	ones	who	conversed	verbally.	The	rest	of	the	participants	would	be	stopped.	As	I	reflected	after,		During	the	experiment	of	only	three	people	talking,	I	experienced	a	different	flow	around	the	room.	More	people	are	listening;	more	people	stopped	chopping	for	few	seconds	while	listening.	Several	people	looked	like	they	wished	they	could	add	something.	Although	there	is	a	feel	of	being	controlled	for	the	non-speaking	participants	ones,	which	was	not	easy	for	several	people,	it	was	powerful	to	see	that	the	experiment	also	freed	a	few	participants	each	round,	which	means	everyone	experienced	more	freedom.	This	freedom	requires	active	listening.		The	experiment	took	the	whole	group	to	a	new	level	of	communication—a	space	of	listening	and	being	more	aware	of	what	is	shared	and	what	was	kept	quiet.	This	experience	was	born	from	a	different	exercise	that	I	offered	during	the	first	gathering,	in	which	I	suggested	we	continue	cooking	together	without	talking	for	5	minutes.	All	participants	agreed	to	engage	with	this	challenge.	At	first,	many	participants	found	it	challenging.	David	even	mentioned	that	being	forced	to	be	quiet	for	5	minutes	felt	that	we	were	back	in	school—“Shut	up	and	work.”	He	shared	his	experience	after	I	asked	if	we	would	like	to	continue	for	another	5	minutes.	Following	the	exercise,	I	noted	the	difference	between	listening	and	being	listened	to—experiencing	different	truths.	As	I	wrote:		 116	Once	I	feel	that	there	is	a	fixed	mindset,	it	is	hard	for	me	to	breathe.	I	feel	it	is	different	here.	The	communication	here	at	Windsor	House	releases	the	tension	of	knowing	the	solution.	There	is	no	one	truth,	solution,	or	final	say.	This	communication	requires	a	heartful	engagement.	It	asks	us	to	be	there,	not	just	pretending	we	are.	It	is	an	organic	process	that	allows	breathing.	Back	and	forth	between	truths	frees	me	from	holding	one	truth.		Jason	elaborated	and	shared	his	experience:	I	find	Windsor	House	…	it	seems	more	organic	here.	The	way	it	evolves	and	always	changing.	When	I	think	about	the	term	democracy,	I	think	about	something	much	more	regimented	and	systematic,	but	what	we	are	doing	is	a	more	organic	process	than	that.	But	then	maybe,	that’s	probably	how	democracy	should	be,	but	not	how	I	experienced	it	in	my	life.	It	is	like	how	tree	grows,	right?	Jason	shared	the	tension	he	recognizes	between	what	democracy	offers	in	contrast	to	the	organic	way	of	Windsor	House.	It	is	clear	that	he	prefers	the	flow	of	Windsor	House	rather	than	being	systematic	and	structured.	However,	even	though	Jason’s	vision	appealed	to	many	in	the	Windsor	House	community,	there	are	many	counterviews	that	call	for	attention	to	be	paid	to	the	structure	within	this	flow	and	the	organic	process.	As	Linda	explained	at	the	second	gathering,	I	think	it	must	have	the	structure	for	it	to	happen,	so	we	need	both.	It	cannot	be	just	organic.	You	need	the	structure.	Democracy	is	not	just	voting	as	a	democracy.	There	are	so	many	ways.	Democracy	means	government	by	the	people.	It	can	be	consensus	decision	making.	It	can	be	majority.	There	are	so	many	different	ways.	Participatory	democracy.	Representative	democracy.	Voting	is	only	one	way	of	making	decisions	in	democracy.		These	terms	of	democratic,	organic,	individual,	and	collective	filled	and	even	led	the	dialogue	of	our	first	and	second	gatherings.	It	was	interesting	to	experience	the	educators	who	were	there	for	many	years,	as	Kelly	(18	years)	encountered	newcomers.	Even	in	the	interview,	Kelly	mentioned	his	interest	in	this	encounter.	He	stated:			 117	I	have	been	in	these	meetings	for	4	hours	every	week	in	the	last	18	years.	I	am	interested	…	there	is	a	turn	over	in	staff,	a	lot	of	people	that	have	been	here	for	long	time	and	just	in	the	last	what	5–6	years.	New	staff	coming	with	different	eyes	and	things	like	that	so	that	might	be	one	thing	…	for	me	maybe	link	between	the	new	and	the	old	—	getting	a	sense	what	these	eyes	are	seeing.	Dialoguing	among	new	and	old	staff	members	is	necessary	in	understanding	how	the	macroview	of	democratic	education	are	fundamental	in	the	creation	of	a	caring	democratic	environment	in	a	school.	In	doing	this,	people	carry	different	views,	pedagogies,	and	philosophical	understandings.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	hold	this	space	for	complicated	conversations	to	happen	as	part	of	the	lived	experiences,	in	which	to	nurture	a	dialogical	atmosphere.	As	Pinar	(2011)	claims,	“Lived	experience	informs	the	complicated	conversation—currere—	that	is	the	school	curriculum.	For	the	curriculum	to	come	alive,	it	must	be	embodied,	spoken	from	the	moment	as	experienced”	(p.	143).	The	third	gathering	was	without	cooking;	therefore,	it	was	less	embodied.	This	led	to	a	meeting	that	was	more	focused	on	what	would	happen	the	following	year,	with	people	expressing	their	worries	and	fears.	This	gathering	was	less	metaphorical	or	connected	to	sensational	understanding.		At	the	second	gathering,	Helen	then	offered	a	new	perspective	on	the	term	individual:	“I	am	not	in	the	stance	of	individual;	I	am	in	the	stance	of	‘it	depends.	’”	Helen’s	perspective	may	appear	simple	and	obvious;	however,	I	recognized	a	deep	understanding	in	her	stance.	Helen	offers	an	organic	listening,	one	that	is	attentive	and	adaptive	for	changes	and	needs.	Such	listening	may	free	people	from	labels	that	may	get	them	stuck	thus	hindering	their	engagement	with	the	world.	Helen’s	position	of	“it	depends”	invites	curiosity	into	people’s	lived	daily	experiences.	Her	statement	about	the	individual	connects	to	another	term	she	uses	often,	which	is	the	whatever	culture.	For	her,	this	means	that	students	and	staff	come	as	they	are	right	now	and	with	whatever	they	have	at	this	given	moment.	I	reflected	on	the	following	after	the	first	gathering:	I	pay	attention	to	the	teacher	who	does	not	make	any	food.	Is	this	‘the	whatever	culture’	of	Windsor	House?	She	arrived	to	this	gathering	after	a	3-day	camping	trip	with	her	students	and	another	teacher	(who	is	in	the	room	as	well).	It	was	really	rainy		 118	throughout	the	trip.	All	approach	her	and	listen,	and	talk,	and	hug	her.	As	an	observer	it	feels	supportive.	It	is	1	hour	and	29	minutes	into	the	meeting	when	she	joins	the	cooking	for	the	first	time.	She	chooses	to	fill	up	the	peppers,	assisting	Bronwen.		The	whatever	culture	carries	a	wider	meaning	than	this	practical	example	of	helping	with	the	cooking.	It	offers	a	different	sense	of	being	in	the	world,	one	that	exists	independently.	As	I	reflected	following	the	second	gathering	I	noted:	The	time	at	Windsor	House	has	taught	me,	once	again,	how	to	simply	be.	They	shared	with	me	an	attitude	towards	life.	I	observed.	I	listened.	I	challenged.	I	re-learned	how	to	be.	I	felt	I	was	asked	to	wonder	how	I	could	stay	who	I	am	in	any	moment	while	respecting	and	celebrating	the	whatever.	To	begin	with,	it	is	important	to	clarify	what	I	mean	by	the	whatever	culture.	One	way	to	look	at	the	whatever	culture	is	in	the	broad	sense	of	being	in	the	world	without	being	controlled	by	others’	judgments,	fears,	and	values.	To	be	and	to	let	others	be.	For	many	whom	I	have	talked	with	in	the	Windsor	House	community,	it	is	obvious	that	the	whatever	culture	plays	a	central	role	in	a	democratic	school.	At	first	glance,	the	whatever	culture	may	seem	to	be	passive,	irresponsible,	and	exclusive.	It	was	only	when	I	embraced	the	whatever	culture	that	I	could	‘wear	it’	and	walk	less	as	an	observer	and	more	as	an	equal	member	within	this	community.	This	journey	with	Windsor	House	took	me	on	a	personal	quest	that	I	had	called	for.	A	journey	in	which	experiencing	or	being	in	dialogue	is	not	considered	to	be	an	educational	technique	or	a	skill	one	should	learn	at	school	but	rather	a	basic	human	right	in	a	democratic	society	and	beyond.		Being	With,	Listening,	and	Assisting		During	the	first	interview	several	participants	mentioned	how	often	they	are	together	in	meetings.	Although	they	meet	often,	they	feel	they	are	missing	individual	interactions	within	the	collective.	They	miss	the	opportunities	they	used	to	have	of	being	with	each	other,	simply	listening	to	one	another.	Meron	put	it	simply	in	her	first	interview:	“I	am	looking	for	us	to	be	with	each	other.”	She	explained	that	her	desire	focussed	on	listening	and	exploring	possibilities	relating	to	personal,	collective,	and	democratic,	which	would	in	turn	connect	back	to	a	broader	sense	of	we	with	our	stories.			 119	The	Being	with,	listening	and	assisting	theme	relates	to	the	previous	theme,	individual,	collective,	and	democratic,	and	expands	the	former	by	bringing	it	to	practice,	as	if	to	claim	that	communication	requires	different	skills	in	a	whatever-culture	reality	in	which	individual	needs	come	first.	By	claiming	that,	I	suggest	that	the	process	of	being	within	a	culture	that	embraces	ongoing	changes	of	all	sorts,	such	as	gender,	name,	outfits,	and	more,	calls	for	attentive	listening.		I	reflected	on	these	moments	before	the	third	gathering:	I	take	everything	out	of	the	bags	as	bananas,	chips,	carrots,	nuts,	cucumbers,	dolmades,	pickles,	halva,	and	sprouts.	I	arrived	with	full	bags,	occupied	with	a	jetlag,	and	feeling	a	bit	slower	and	more	attentive	to	my	surroundings.	I	feel	that	I	do	not	need	to	pretend	I	am	all	good	because	I	am	a	bit	off,	but	I	am	confident	that	it	would	all	be	good	and	acceptable.	I	will	be	myself.		Yet,	one	may	feel	left	out	without	the	reaction	to	the	individual’s	arrival,	deeds,	comments	that	mark	communication	and	being	with.	As	Meron	shared	during	the	last	gathering:		This	is	something	that	would	never	happen	in	New	Zealand	[that	people	are	in	the	same	car	not	communicating	with	others].…	They	mean,	I	heard	you—even	after	so	many	years	in	North	America,	I	feel	this	wall	of	no	reactions….	Windsor	House	helped	me	to	feel	connected	everywhere	after	my	move	to	North	America.		Although,	at	Windsor	House	it	took	some	practise	for	me	to	experience	that	wall	of	no	reaction	as	a	welcoming	of	me	in	a	whatever	way,	I	came	to	understand	that	it	holds	this	space.	To	me,	the	wall	of	no	reactions	feels	like	no	one	has	acknowledged	or	reacted	to	my	existence.	Thus,	it	is	a	contradiction	to	accept	that	Windsor	House	is	a	welcoming	place	with	its	hospitality	while	at	the	same	time	it	is	a	daily	experience	of	this	wall	of	no	reactions.	As	Meron	referred	to	in	her	experience	in	North	America,	this	may	feel	unwelcoming	to	newcomers.		It	is	important	to	understand	that	the	wall	of	no	reactions	comes	out	of	respect,	especially	in	the	context	of	consent	culture,	that	is,	the	intention	of	giving	people	space	to	simply	be,	without	a	need	to	explain	their	choice	to	others.	In	a	consent	culture,	it	is	common	to	ask,		 120	“Is	that	okay,”	or	to	ask	or	give	a	comment	before	taking	an	action.	However,	I	admit	that	at	times	I	found	it	to	be	an	isolating	experience.	Thus,	in	the	process	of	listening	to	whatever	is	needed	in	the	study,	during	my	pre-study	visits	and	during	the	interviews,	I	recognized	my	need	of	assistance,	within	a	foreign	school	culture.	Coming	from	a	culture	in	which	food	serves	as	a	social	glue,	food	making	in	collaboration	was	my	form	of	assistance.	Through	my	reflections	after	the	last	gathering,	I	wrote:	For	me	the	real	process	here	is	this	artistic	collaboration	between	us	with	food,	to	challenge	each	of	us	in	our	thinking,	expectations,	understanding,	and	experiences	in	this	school.	That’s	the	idea	of	being	with	and	being	assisted,	and	food	offers	us	great	metaphors	to	work	with.	Following	this	note,	the	question	of	hospitality	surfaced,	as	it	did	several	times	during	our	gatherings	in	the	context	of	feeling	welcome.	During	the	first	two	gatherings,	we	convened	around	particular	recipes.	The	recipes	were	chosen	in	advance	and	participants	were	welcomed	to	do	any	adaptations	they	desired.	With	these	preset	recipes	people	didn’t	feel	in	the	flow	of	being	together.	However,	throughout	the	third	and	the	last	gatherings,	when	there	were	no	set	menus,	participants	were	much	more	attuned	to	one	another.	For	instance,	during	the	last	gathering	I	noted:		This	time	there	is	a	new	feel	in	the	room.	Plates	are	set	on	the	table,	with	chairs	for	everyone.	There	is	a	fairness	I	am	noticing	in	the	room	among	people.	The	ones	who	prepared	a	lot	now	allow	themselves	to	sit	and	chat	and	others	set	the	table.	It	did	not	feel	like	that	in	previous	gatherings,	which	were	filled	with	personal	accomplishments,	concerns	regarding	the	food	making,	and	the	collaboration	it	requires.	Participants	make	the	food	while	eating	bites	from	all	around	the	table.	This	gathering	has	a	relaxed	nature.	In	retrospect,	within	the	theme	of	hospitality	and	feeling	welcome	in	the	whatever	culture,	I	found	more	notes	from	the	third	and	last	gatherings	and	fewer	references	to	these	themes	in	the	other	meetings.	It	means	that	in	those	conversations	we	felt	more	connected	to	the	flow	among	participants	as	opposed	to	holding	set	expectations	from	each	one	of	us	and	us		 121	as	a	group.	For	instance,	during	the	last	gathering,	there	was	a	conversation	about	how	each	of	us	perceives	hospitality.	I	wrote:		It	is	72	minutes	into	the	meeting,	and	the	conversation	around	the	notion	of	hospitality	starts.	The	connection	I	[Ofira]	bring	to	the	table	is	food.	Several	people	talk	about	it—that,	yes,	food	delivers	hospitality	in	a	more	visible	and	tangible	ways.	At	the	same	time,	Meron	emphasizes	that	she	always	experienced	and	thought	of	Windsor	House	as	an	extremely	hospitable	place	to	be	in,	although	it	would	usually	not	be	around	food	sharing.	Several	agreed.	I	agree	with	participants	understanding	that	I	made	the	choice	of	offering	the	food	as	our	artistic	collaboration	with	the	understanding	that	food	nurtures	us	and	offers	a	welcoming	feel	of	hospitality.	Participants	feel	blessed	for	this	new	opportunity	because	prior	to	this	event,	some	of	the	participants	did	not	feel	that	food	was	part	of	creating	a	welcoming	environment.		This	experience	at	Windsor	House	taught	me	that	hospitality	and	feeling	welcome	required	us	to	let	go	and	accept	others.	The	third	gathering	had	this	feel.	It	did	not	begin	on	time.	As	the	video	started,	the	room	remained	empty,	and	I	felt	as	if	we	were	waiting	for	something	to	happen.	For	16	minutes	the	room	lay	waiting.	I	have	no	idea	why	participants	did	not	arrive	on	time.	I	put	the	spanakopita	in	the	oven	and	organized	several	dishes	on	the	table	before	anyone	arrived.	I	felt	the	need	to	remain	open	to	whatever	this	gathering	had	to	offer.	The	menu	for	the	third	gathering	seemed	to	be	waiting	for	decisions.	I	paused,	listened,	and	let	the	group	share	the	need	of	the	community.	It	was	a	call	for	a	readymade	curriculum	that	allowed	participants	to	be	together	as	guests	in	the	middle	of	the	chaos	of	packing	the	school	before	the	big	move.	As	I	wrote	in	my	notes	from	the	third	gathering:		The	table	is	filled	with	veggies	and	fruits,	chips,	and	homemade	hummus.	People	are	so	happy	they	do	not	need	to	think	today	and	can	simply	be—being	with	each	other.	People	are	asking	less	for	permission	of	any	kind.	They	all	joined	the	table	at	their	own	pace.	People	do	not	gather	around	the	table	as	they	did	in	previous	gatherings.	People	do	not	feel	they	have	to	come	and	do.…	Kelley	keeps	organizing	the	table;	Kristen	is	getting	involved,	…	washing	and	cutting	cucumbers.	While	I	organize	the	food,	I	snack	on	everything	and	offer	everyone	as	well.	I	am	here	to	listen	to	what	this	gathering		 122	offers.	The	curriculum	adaptation	was	needed	with	the	assistance	of	listening	and	the	desire	for	being	with.	Hospitality	is	not	only	about	what	is	served,	but	also	about	what	does	not	get	served	and	for	what	reason.	Our	gatherings	were	meant	to	be	hospitable	and	at	the	same	time	inclusive	for	anyone	with	special	dietary	restrictions.	Being	with,	listening,	and	assisting	received	new	meaning	in	one	entry	interview	when	Meghan	clearly	stated	that	she	would	be	satisfied	in	gatherings	if	we	have	meat.	Thanks	to	the	food	assistance,	I	realized	that	being	hospitable,	in	a	broader	term,	is	about	listening	to	all	needs,	including	the	ones	who	are	considered	part	of	the	majority,	dominant	group,	or	culture.	As	I	noted	during	the	first	gathering:	At	106	minutes,	I	share	a	moment	from	one	entry	interview	in	which	one	participant	brought	to	my	attention	that	the	needs	of	meat	eaters	should	be	equally	respected	as	those	who	are	gluten	free.	In	our	era,	when	many	people	are	vegetarian,	vegan,	and	gluten	free,	it	is	our	responsibility	to	make	meat	eaters	feel	comfortable	and	welcome	with	their	choices.	This	realization	was	a	surprise	for	me.	I	realized	that	paying	attention	to	my	blind	spot	is	part	of	the	Windsor	House	culture	of	listening	and	assisting	everyone,	which	is	an	integral	part	of	the	whatever	culture.	This	realization	reminded	me	of	home,	of	being	with	my	parents	and	my	grandmother,	and	made	me	rethink	the	inclusiveness	of	these	places	that	I	had	perceived	as	hospitable.	The	food	assisted	us	in	this	study	as	a	metaphor	in	understanding	students’	needs	and	curriculum	adaptations.	However,	growing	up	in	an	environment	in	which	no	special	dishes	were	prepared	to	meet	an	individual’s	needs	gave	me	a	different	perspective	of	the	term	hospitable.	Such	an	environment	made	me	believe	that	hospitality	means:	I	am	here,	ready	for	you	to	arrive;	thus	the	food	is	ready	beforehand	without	knowing	who	would	show	up	at	the	door.	One	would	not	remain	hungry	or	be	excluded.	All	food	preferences	can	be	easily	accommodated,	as	visitors	adapt	their	own	meals	by	serving	themselves	what	they	need	from	the	table	that	is	already	laid	out.	This	felt	effortless	growing	up,	which	made	me	think	of	this	hospitable	attitude	as	a	second	nature.	I	carry	it	as	a	methodology	for	life	as	an	educator,	a	mother,	a	researcher,	and	as	a	community	leader.	For	me,	this	concept	of		 123	hospitality	is	a	philosophy	of	life,	which	means	that	at	any	moment	there	is	a	possibility	to	make	an	adaptation	to	ensure	each	situation	is	welcoming	for	everyone.	This	is	similar	to	a	thought	I	offered	in	the	conversation	in	our	second	gathering.	I	asked	whether	participants	set	intentions	for	the	day	as	educators	at	Windsor	House,	or	if	they	simply	arrived,	open	to	adapt	and	change	according	to	the	needs	in	the	group.	For	me,	this	intention	was	similar	to	arriving	at	these	gatherings	with	the	food	prepared	before	the	guests	arrived.	Many	participants	claimed	that	their	intentions	for	the	day	involve	focusing	on	each	child	as	a	whole	person	as	opposed	to	setting	intentions	that	relate	to	transmitting	knowledge.	This	led	our	conversation	to	the	educator’s	role	in	assisting	the	whole	person	at	Windsor	House	and	educators’	roles	in	general.	I	asked	the	group,	“What	does	it	mean	about	this	place	that	people	do	not	have	a	set	idea	or	an	agreement	about	their	role?	What	does	it	mean	in	your	practice?”	Meghan	responded:		That	is	more	challenging	as	an	administrator;	the	staff	are	defining	their	own	role;	There	are	differences	between	people.	There	are	ones	who	see	their	role	in	the	big	picture	and	other	people	do	not.	There	are	people	who	see	the	gaps,	and	the	ones	who	are	willing	to	fill	the	gaps,	and	others	who	do	not—sometimes	because	they	do	not	think	it	is	their	job,	because	they	do	not	notice	the	gaps,	or	because	they	are	being/doing	what	they	see	in	front	of	them	and	they	feel	they	are	called	to	do	and	they	think	it	is	important.		In	this	regard,	the	role	of	an	educator	at	Windsor	House	is	open	ended	and	adaptable	to	the	educator’s	ability,	desire,	and	needs	in	relation	to	the	students’	needs	at	the	moment.	It	is	important	to	mention	here	that	this	unstructured	set	role	at	times	finds	its	balance	and	is	sometimes	out	of	balance.	This	brought	to	mind	Biesta’s	(2016)	question	of	what	good	education	means;	I	investigated	this	in	the	context	of	Windsor	House	by	inviting	educators	to	stay	in	the	tension	between	being	in	the	world	and	withdrawing	from	it	or	destroying	it—by	continually	questioning	and	being	engaged.	Biesta	(2016)	brings	to	our	attention	the	notion	of	what	good	education	means,	not	in	the	search	for	a	truth	or	an	answer,	but	for	pulling	us	back	to	wonder	what	good	education	is	now,	for	each	of	us,	for		 124	the	society	we	live	in,	and	within	the	global	context.	Biesta	(2016)	talks	about	the	three	domains	of	potential	purposes	of	education:	qualification,	socialization,	and	subjectification.	Biesta	(2016)	claims	that	we	seem	to	have	lost	connection	to	these	three	domains	in	the	rush	of	the	evidence-based	era,	which	narrows	the	conversation	to	almost	solely	qualification	driven,	which	is	far	from	the	whole-person	approach.	The	conversation	at	Windsor	House	is	mostly	based	on	two	out	of	these	three	domains—socialization	and	subjectification.	As	Kristen	(a	new	teacher	at	Windsor	House)	explained	on	the	first	gathering:		What	I	[Kristen]	offer	here	is	that	they	[curriculum	designers]	may	know	better	knowledge	wise,	but	not	context	wise.	I	am	the	one	that	knows	the	students	and	their	personal	context	more	than	the	outsiders	who	delivered	the	out-of-context	curriculum.	Kristen’s	comment	links	well	to	Biesta’s	(2016)	concepts	of	socialization	and	subjectification	in	terms	of	getting	to	know	who	students	are	and	how	she	adjust	the	curriculum	to	facilitate	student	interests.		During	the	second	gathering,	the	conversation	continued	regarding	the	teacher’s	position	as	an	assistant,	and	the	question	that	arose	was	of	the	many	ways	and	in	what	ways	the	position	of	a	traditional	teacher	can	be	challenged	so	that	at	any	time	the	role	can	shift,	enabling	different	individuals	to	lead	in	the	classroom.	This	question	calls	to	mind	a	common	fear	among	adults,	teachers,	and	parents	regarding	democratic	education—that	it	is	messy	and	chaotic	at	all	times,	and	there	is	no	one	person	to	listen	to.	You	cannot	go	by	the	book	as	a	democratic	schoolteacher.	At	the	last	gathering,	Meron	further	elaborated	on	this:	That’s	what	Windsor	House	brings.	It	is	not	about	academic	quality.	It’s	not	about	your	intellect	any	more	than	any	other	part	of	your	whole	person.	That’s	one	of	the	differences	between	where	I	came	from	[New	Zealand],	and	where	I	am	now,…	so	it	is	really	interesting	when	you	talk	about	food	because	you	[Ofira]	bring	so	much	culture	into	food	preparation.	I	thought	about	you	when	I	was	leaving,	giving	my	friend	a	ride,	and	I	met	you	at	the	door	with	all	your	bags,	and	I	thought,	maybe	Ofira	is	used	to	a	different	feel….	Maybe	where	she	comes	from	it	would	be	a	big	crowd	greeting	her	at		 125	the	door	and	helping	her	carry	everything	in,	and	I	let	her	down?	I	wonder	if	you	see	Windsor	House	as	self-absorbed	[carrying	only	about	one’s	own	self].	My	honest	answer	was,	it	depends.	There	were	times	that	I	felt	Windsor	House	was	self-absorbed.	It	was	only	over	time,	after	I	immersed	myself	in	the	school	culture,	that	I	experienced	it	differently.	Reflecting	back,	I	understand	better	the	parallel	Meron	made	between	her	different	experiences	in	New	Zealand	and	at	Windsor	House	and	my	different	experiences	in	Israel	and	at	Windsor	House.	She	offered	the	group	the	lens	of	looking	at	individuals	as	whole	people,	with	their	life	experiences,	qualities,	and	expectations—educators	as	well	as	students.	Educators	at	Windsor	House	feel	assisted	and	respected	as	whole	people,	just	as	they	are	expected	to	assist	and	respect	their	students.	The	requirement	from	them	is	to	take	suitable	responsibilities	at	Windsor	House	according	to	their	abilities.	They	do	so	while	using	the	lens	of	observing	individuals	as	whole	people,	which	supports	everyone	in	the	process	of	exploring	together.	At	the	second	gathering,	Corin	added	that	most	educators	at	Windsor	House	define	their	role	as	mentors.	I	then	inquired	if	Meghan’s	question	to	educators,	which	she	had	posed	at	the	beginning	of	the	year	(what	do	staff	members	wish	to	do	this	year	at	Windsor	House),	encourages	all	staff	to	hold	that	same	attitude	and	perspective	with	the	students,	which	would	offer	mentors	and	students	a	similar	daily	life	experience?	Corin	replied,	“Definitely,	yes.”	She	continued	by	bringing	up	the	conversation	that	Kristen,	Ellen,	and	she	had	during	the	entry	interview	of	this	study,	when	they	discussed	that	the	three	of	them	were	OK	with	the	title	teacher,	and	all	three	of	them	had	taught	in	a	more	traditional	schools	as	well	as	this	democratic	school.	It	is	important	in	this	context	to	mention	that	all	other	participants,	beside	these	three,	used	terms	other	than	a	teacher	to	define	their	role	at	Windsor	house.	In	the	second	gathering,	Corin	added	that,	as	a	woman,	she	wore	many	different	hats:	Here	I	am	a	teacher,	in	a	different	place	I	am	a	mentor,	in	a	different	place	I	am	a	community	artist—and	I	am	that	here.	I	am	a	teacher	here	who	has	responsibilities—that’s	why	I	do	not	have	a	problem	calling	myself	a	teacher	here.		While	the	terms	people	choose	tell	a	personal	story	and	provide	context,	I	argue	that	the	deeper	meaning	and	understanding	of	each	person’s	role	in	the	school	is	of	greater		 126	consequence.	As	Biesta	(2015b)	describes,	what	really	matters	in	education	and	in	maintaining	meaningful	balance	are	three	functions	of	education	and	three	domains	of	purpose.	He	explains	that	three	functions	are	needed	in	order	to	transmit	knowledge	to	others:	learning	something,	for	a	reason,	and	from	someone	(Biesta,	2015b).	As	mentioned	earlier	in	Chapter	2,	the	three	domains	of	purposes	include	(a)	socialization,	in	which	students	explore	who	they	are;	(b)	subjectification,	in	which	students	deal	with	the	question	how	are	they	being	in	the	world;	and	(c)	qualification,	in	which	students	are	marked,	tested,	and	so	forth	(Biesta,	2015b).	While	Windsor	House	educators	put	extra	effort	into	assisting	with	the	first	two	domains	of	purpose,	Biesta’s	ideas	suggest	that	attending	a	democratic	school	translated	into	many	extra	hours	of	study	beyond	mainstream	school	hours	when	accounting	for	special	events,	fields	trips,	and	so	on.	During	the	third	gathering,	several	participants	shared	that,	in	practice,	it	is	an	ongoing	experience	of	trying	to	make	it	work,	with	the	struggle	of	being	under	constant	attack	and	lacking	support	of	the	authorities	in	terms	of	the	building	of	the	school,	as	well	as,	curriculum	and	pedagogies.	For	instance,	although	the	majority	of	Windsor	House	community	members	mainly	reside	in	East	Vancouver,	administrators	could	not	arrange	to	lease	a	school	building	in	that	area;	as	a	result,	the	school	community	always	functions	within	a	condition	of	temporality.		This	struggle	is	an	ongoing	one	for	Windsor	House	and	is	familiar	to	me	from	the	democratic	education	struggle	in	Israel	as	well.	The	struggle	makes	its	mark	on	people	on	a	personal	level	as	well	as	on	the	school	operation	level.	Educators	are	asked	to	regularly	live	the	ambiguity,	adaptations,	and	changes	this	struggle	offers.	As	I	wrote	on	the	third	gathering,		The	team	starts	to	arrive.	It	is	the	beginning	of	an	ending	for	Windsor	House	in	this	location,	which	was	its	home	for	many	years.	The	school	starts	to	look	like	and	feel	like	a	packed-up	home	before	a	move.	Kelley	organizes	chairs	around	the	table.	Carrots,	sprouts,	homemade	hummus,	and	dolmades	are	waiting	on	the	table.	It	is	15	minutes	into	the	gathering,	I	understand	where	I	am	coming	from,	making	sure	there	is	food	on	the	table	when	everyone	arrives.	The	participants	are	dealing	with	a	lot	at	the	moment	regarding	what’s	next.	Several	participants	may	lose	their	position	with	this	move.	It	is		 127	important	for	me	to	make	them	feel	welcome.	I	spent	my	time	organizing,	cleaning,	making	some	food,	and	having	some	of	it	ready	to	snack	on	right	away.	I	wait	for	everyone	to	gather,	share	concerns,	support	each	other,	and	feast	together.		Bringing	this	theme	to	an	end,	I	feel	the	importance	in	sharing	another	personal	note	from	a	recording	I	made	right	after	the	last	gathering.	During	this	study,	I	repeatedly	reminded	myself	to	pay	attention	to	the	particular.	When	one	receives	the	opportunity	to	connect	and	engage	in	the	world	with	the	assistance	of	the	particular,	then	he	or	she	recognizes	the	importance	of	practice.	As	I	wrote	at	the	fourth	gathering:		I	feel	happiness	and	sadness	in	my	heart,	with	the	need	to	cry	and	celebrate	this	opportunity	I	invited	into	my	life	to	work	and	study	with	Windsor	House	community.	I	feel	that	I	went	through	a	sort	of	meaningful	transformation,	while	being	part	of	this	process.	The	understanding	of	how	educators	develop	and	grow	together	with	their	students	and	the	staff	is	really	powerful	to	watch,	be	with,	and	study.	I	realize	that	I	gained	a	different	outlook	on	this	community.	As	I	came	to	this	study,	I	was	convinced	my	role	was	to	share	with	participants	what	hospitality	means	and	learn	from	them	much	more	about	their	views	and	understanding	of	democratic	education.	However,	now,	looking	back,	I	realize	that	Windsor	House	hospitality	holds	wide	and	meaningful	connotations	of	acceptance	of	who	you	are,	whenever	you	come,	and	whatever	you	feel	like	sharing	at	in	any	given	moment.		Thus,	to	capture	the	essence	of	the	relationships	between	dialogue	and	hospitality	in	a	democratic	school	means	to	connect	back	to	Biesta’s	call	for	reclaiming	the	purposes	of	education	and	rethinking	what	education	is	ought	to	be	about	(Biesta,	2006).		My	positive	intention	to	study	alongside	participants,	learning	about	their	skills,	intentions,	and	beliefs	in	democratic	education,	brought	the	following	piece	to	life.	A	piece	that	blends	the	different	voices	and	experiences	together	to	meet	students’	needs	of	assistance:	Roots	are	all	connected	not	knowing	where	it	starts,	where	it	ends.	Roots	and	roots	and	roots.			 128	Looking	for	roots,	nurturing	roots,	cutting	roots.		Roots	of	schooling,	of	social	justice,	of	eco	justice,	of	friendships,	of	family.		Roots	of	collaboration	through	arts,	life,	food,	and	communication	at	large.		All	needs—water,	sun,	and	soil—to	grow	together.	Gardening	the	complexity	of	life	and	fears.		Big	words	connect	it	all	to	a	simple	but	complex	reality.	Reality	that	is	questionable,	that	offers	awareness	for	what	is.		Awareness	to	the	uniqueness	of	each	of	us.	Awareness	to	when	and	where	it	matters	that	I	am	I.		Awareness	to	what	school	offers	in	this	complex	reality.		Being?	Teaching?	Assisting?		Sailing	slowly	in	the	ocean	on	the	way	back	from	the	Sunshine	Coast,		takes	these	wonders	deeper.		“Why	schooling?”	I	wonder.		The	ocean	brings	the	question—why	do	I	bother?	What	is	it	in	the	world	that	makes	me	feel	I	could	offer	something	different?	What	is	this	uniqueness	we	are	looking	for	within	and	around	us?		Who	am	I	to	re-search	teachers?		For	what	reason	should	I	study	education?		What	is	my	vision	in	doing	so?		Fears	and	wonders	and	fears	and	wonders.		I	wish	the	garden	of	humanity	could	grow	wild	again.		Grow	wild	outside	of	community	garden	plots.		Where	humans	alongside	the	outdoors	grow	without	being	afraid	to	be	themselves.	To	live	our	desires	and	passions.	Without	fear.		Why	does	fear	stop	us	from	being	who	we	are?	Does	it	relate	to	schooling?		What	about	schooling	bothers	me?		Is	it	the	call	for	conformity?	Being	good?	Doing	it	right?	Knowing	the	rules?		What	is	it	in	the	school	experience	that	makes	it	fearful	for	many?		 129	Fears	and	wonders	and	fears	and	wonders.	Fear	knocks	on	my	heart	again.	Does	democratic	education	enable	people	to	be	free	from	fear?	Is	there	a	certain	way	to	be	a	good	student?		What	was	school	for	me?		What	does	it	offer	now?		School.	A	place	where	I	learned	to	lie	on	a	daily	basis.		A	place	where	I	met	friends	but	almost	always	did	not	have	time	to	BE	with	them.	A	place	where	I	have	learned	to	postpone	my	interests	until	later.	A	place	that	provided	me	facts	out	of	context.		A	place	I	did	not	like	to	go	to.	School.		What	if	we	flip	it	and	wonder	how	school	could	assist	us?	What	could	school	assist	us	with?	Assist	us	in	exploring,	being,	and	communicating	with	each	other?	Assist	us	in	using	valuable	knowledge?	Assist	us	in	our	path	of	awareness	to	our	inner	being?	Assist	us	in	our	relationship	with	the	outdoors	and	place?	Assist	us	in	unpacking	others’	needs	and	dreams?	Assist	us.	Assist	us	in	exploring	temporality	within	the	routine	regime?	Assist	us	in	making	room	for	other	human	beings?	Assist	us	in	collaborating	through	arts?	Assist	us	as	we	communicate	with	each	other	outdoors?	Assist	us	in	being	ourselves	in	relation	with	our	surroundings?	Assist	us.	Assist	us	in	being	in	the	world	without	being	the	centre	of	the	world?	Assist	us	in	feeling	invited?	Assist	us	in	being	together	with	those	in	the	world	who	are	different	from	us?	Assist	us	in	facing	the	ongoing	challenge	of	dialogue?		 130	Assist	us.	Why	does	fear	stop	us	from	being	who	we	want	to	be?	What	do	folk	culture	and	carnival	(Bakhtin,	1965)	offer	us	in	dealing	with	this	fear?	The	folk	and	carnival	culture	may	offer	us	access	to	unmasked	spaces	such	as	those	offered	in	Windsor	House	through	ongoing	theatrical	experiences.	The	arts	may	assist	us	in	defining	the	absolutely	necessity	of	boundaries	(Bohm,	1985)	within	folk	and	carnival	cultures.	Encountering	assistance	in	democratic	education	has	been	a	learning	encounter	for	me	and	has	allowed	my	voice	to	be	heard	with	new	possibilities	for	a	more	democratic	and	open-ended	experience	in	places	of	learning.	Welcoming	the	whatever	culture	may	enable	people	to	ask	the	following:	Who	am	I?	Who	do	I	want	to	be?	What	do	I	want	to	be	responsible	for?	From	Complicated	Conversations	to	Dialogue		I	began	this	study	informally,	with	many	different	conversations	about	the	meaning	of	democratic	education,	history,	philosophy,	values,	rules,	roles,	and	dreams.	It	was	an	offering	for	participants	and	myself	to	connect,	relate,	encounter	one	another,	as	we	opened	ourselves	to	new	possibilities	in	our	communication	and	relationships.	As	discussed	earlier	in	this	thesis,	dialogue	does	not	happen	without	a	shared	desire	to	explore	together	ideas	and	feelings	we	are	willing	to	rethink	in	new	ways	together.	As	Pinar	(2011)	offers,	Let	us	follow	Hongyu	Wang	(see	2004,	75)	in	her	search	for	a	third	space	through	intercultural	conversation,	a	space	wherein	new	forms	of	life	can	be	created.	To	participate	in	this	complicated	conversation,	let	us	listen	to	the	call	from	the	stranger. (p. 121) Let	us	listen	to	what	complicated	conversations	allow	us	to	hear.	This	led	me	to	explore	the	questions	of	when	and	how	complicated	conversations	may	turn	into	dialogue,	and	what	does	dialogue	mean	in	the	context	of	this	open	study?	As	the	title	of	this	dissertation	claims,	this	study	explored	the	process	of	creating	meaning	of	democratic	education	through	dialogic	cooking.	Meaning	making	happened	with	educators	while	cooking	collaboratively	in	a	democratic	school.	The	first	and	second		 131	gatherings	were	filled	with	cooking	collaboratively	within	a	set	of	prescribed	recipes.	Those	two	meetings	metaphorically	felt	more	like	complicated	conversations	on	their	way	to	becoming	dialogue.	Participants	were	invited	to	take	an	active	role	in	choosing	what	was	going	to	be	prepared,	and	were	encouraged	to	make	adaptations	according	to	the	personal	and	the	collective	wishes	and	needs.	For	instance,	in	the	first	gathering,	which	was	Mediterranean	food,	we	followed	the	choices	of	several	participants	who	volunteered	to	take	the	lead	for	that	gathering	with	my	support.	We	made	tabouleh,	stuffed	papers	(vegetarian	and	with	meat),	tahini	cookies,	tomato	soup	with	rice,	and	mejadra.	This	choice	of	cuisine	was	made	collectively.	At	this	gathering,	there	was	no	ready-made	food,	which	made	the	collaborative	cooking	much	more	hectic	for	several	participants.	In	many	ways	the	first	gathering	felt	as	if	it	were	a	first	date,	since	participants	started	cooking	together	without	such	previous	experience	as	a	group.	Thus,	questions	surfaced,	such	as,	how	do	you	like	to	clean	the	parsley?	How	do	you	like	to	prepare	your	quinoa?	Where	can	I	find	a	measurement	cup?	Which	knife	I	should	use?		It	is	important	to	first	recognize	the	difference	between	the	process	of	creating	meaning	and	the	meaning	itself.	The	process,	on	one	hand,	includes	the	setting,	the	embodiment	of	the	experience	of	cooking	collaboratively,	while	holding	complicated	conversations	and	feasting	together.	In	this	process,	participants	shared	their	personal	understanding	of	democratic	education.	In	the	beginning	it	was	more	about	sharing,	as	opposed	to	creating	meaning	together	in	a	dialogical	manner.	Later,	the	experiences	participants	brought	forward	became	the	ingredients	for	a	dialogue	of	creating	meaning.	Thus,	this	study	offered	an	exploration	of	known	and	common	meanings	as	well	as	the	creation	of	new	meanings.	I	argue	that	the	creation	of	a	new	meaning,	created	together,	is	dialogic	in	nature,	or	the	beginning	of	dialogue.	For	instance,	during	the	first	gathering	there	were	no	set	rules.	I	asked	only	one	question:	What	intention	did	each	of	us	have	for	our	dialogical	cooking?	It	was	not	yet	dialogue,	because	there	was	a	need	to	come	together	first,	to	share	the	questions	and	perspectives	each	of	us	brought	to	the	table.	Participants	were	confused	and	shared	this	feeling	through	questions,	such	as	Meghan	wondering,	“[It	is]	something	that	we	are	not	sure	how	to	move	forward	with,”	and	Linda	asking,	“Do	you	mean	maybe	philosophically?”			 132	These	questions	came	as	a	result	of	not	knowing	what	our	time	together	would	offer.	I	had	hoped	that	this	open-ended	gathering	might	enable	current	meanings	to	arise	as	well	as	new	meanings	to	be	created.	In	our	first	gathering,	we	only	knew	the	set	curriculum,	which	included	the	Mediterranean	recipes	that	participants	had	asked	me	to	share	with	them.	The	curriculum	was	new	to	many	and	required	more	attention	to	detail	and	less	to	flow.	The	feast	was	beyond	our	expectations.	At	the	same	time,	at	the	end	of	the	gathering,	several	participants	shared	in	the	closing	conversation	that	this	gathering	challenged	them	more	than	they	had	anticipated.	They	explained	that	the	collaborative	cooking	required	effort,	which	made	it	hard	to	follow	the	many	conversations	that	were	happening	in	parallel.	Several	participants	expressed	disappointment,	as	they	had	hoped	the	conversation	would	move	directly	into	dialogue.	I	suggested	that	it	is	important	to	feel	a	bit	lost	in	the	beginning	of	a	journey	and	reminded	everyone	that	these	conversations	would	fuel	future	work.	In	order	to	get	a	feel	of	those	parallel	conversations,	I	wish	to	share	several	anecdotes.	For	instance,	Bronwen	started	one	of	the	conversations	during	the	first	gathering:	I	did	not	come	here	for	a	democratic	school	but	I	believe	that’s	the	way	we	live	collectively.	The	challenge	in	our	democratic	collective	is	how	do	we	meet	the	needs	of	everyone?	And	how	do	we	hold	it.…	Hold	the	space	to	inspire	them?	I	want	to	explore	how	our	democratic	collective	is	resilient	so	nobody	falls	through.		Other	participants	shared	their	intentions	as	well.	Participants	also	shared	their	personal	interest	in	democratic	education,	such	as	Kristen	and	Andre.	Meghan	then	stated:	I	am	really	connected	right	now,	in	my	own	practice.	I	am	really	curious	now	that	I	am	personally	moving	from	out	of	these	crises—let’s	stay	alive—	Oh,	we	are	in	alive	mode!	I	really	want	to	connect	to	the	democratic	worlds	that	both	I	grew	up	with	and	also	have	been	evolving,	not	just	what	I	grew	up	with	but	also	what	the	rest	of	the	world	is	doing	now	in	democratic	education.	What	they	are	doing	in	different	countries,	different	cultures.	Looking	at	the	ways	people	are	doing	it	so	it	is	not	just	about	us.…	Similar	models	are	being	used	…	[they]	change	and	evolve,	because	I	think	we	are	big	enough—we	are	no	longer	the	model	I	grew	up	with.	We	are	not	25	to	60	students.	It	is		 133	a	much	bigger	thing.	How	do	we	retain	this	community	and	…[explore]	my	impact	on	you,	your	impact	on	me.…	How	do	we	stay	connected	in	a	different	way?		Others	shared	that	while	our	first	gathering	did	not	feel	as	dialogic	as	they	expected,	they	were	consumed	with	the	labour	of	food	preparation.	David	felt	we	should	put	less	time	into	the	chopping	so	that	in	the	gathering	we	would	be	able	to	engage	more	in	the	conversation.	He	suggested	we	pre-make	whatever	we	could	beforehand.	I	clarified	that	I	think	the	collaborative	cooking,	and	all	the	particular	work	it	requires,	the	embodiment	of	it	and	even	the	aesthetic	of	the	food	creation,	is	actually	important	for	our	process	to	recognize	our	needs	for	creating	space	for	dialogue	to	happen.	David	seemed	doubtful,	but	he	was	open	to	giving	it	a	chance	in	future	gatherings.	With	that	being	said,	participants	also	praised	the	doing	and	collaborating	with	colleagues.	Kristen	emphasized:		I	like	the	chopping.	I	like	the	work.	You	do	not	work	any	more	beside	people.	We	talk	about	collaborating,	but	we	just	talk	about	collaborating.…	So	I	enjoyed	doing	that,	and	I	got	to	interact	with	colleagues	in	a	different	way,	so	I	think	that	having	that	balance	between	work	and	also	focused	conversation	would	be	great.	Listening	to	the	mixture	of	voices	in	the	room	led	me	to	voice	an	idea	that	came	up	organically	from	the	first	gathering	experience.	I	offered	this	perspective	at	the	beginning	of	the	second	gathering:	It	was	hard	for	many	of	us	in	our	last	gathering	to	meet	and	have	meaningful	conversations	about	democratic	education	while	collaboratively	cooking.	Creating	meaning	of	democratic	education	with	20	participants	is	not	an	easy	task.	The	idea	I	wish	to	suggest	for	today	is	that	we	put	all	our	names	in	a	hat	and	each	round	we	pick	only	three	people’s	names.	These	people	have	a	symbolic	‘talking	stick’	while	cooking	with	everyone	in	the	room.	The	others,	who	are	not	the	three	picked	names,	continue	cooking	without	reacting	and	chatting,	but	engaging	in	listening	and	reflecting.	Do	you	want	to	give	it	a	try?		I	suggested	this	process	because	I	sensed	the	need	to	create	both	a	space	to	converse	as	well	as	to	hold	space	for	the	meditative	meaning	making	while	listening.	I	had	not	planned		 134	this	process	ahead	of	time.	We	used	this	approach	because	it	felt	right	in	the	moment,	and	all	participants	agreed	to	try.	This	exercise	allowed	the	complicated	conversations	to	unfold.	Stories	from	past	experiences	connected	to	hopes	and	concerns	with	the	new	coming	future.	The	three	selected	participants	shared	their	expectations	at	the	beginning	of	their	turn.	For	instance,	Bronwen	asked	people	to	ask	her	questions	if	they	wished	to,	and	Kelley	felt	questions	would	slow	him	down,	so	said	it	was	better	not	to.		The	complicated	conversation	in	the	second,	third,	and	forth	gatherings	benefitted	from	the	changes	agreed	upon.	In	the	first	gathering	the	curriculum	felt	fixed	and	unknown.	The	second	gathering	offered	a	different	experience.	The	curriculum	was	mainly	based	on	the	Mexican	cuisine,	which	was	simpler	and	known	to	many.	This	curriculum	was	determined	by	one	teacher	who	volunteered	to	share	her	passion	about	Mexican	food	that	arose	for	her	from	a	home	stay	she	had	experienced	earlier	in	her	life	in	Mexico.	Thus,	participants	felt	they	were	able	to	find	a	balance	between	cooking	collaboratively	(the	structured	portion	of	the	gathering)	and	dialoguing	(the	improvised	parts	of	our	collaborative	session).	The	third	and	fourth	gatherings	unfolded	in	a	more	organic	and	dialogic	way.	I	wrote	the	following	after	the	second	gathering:	Kristen,	with	little	help	from	Bronwen	and	Tina,	created	the	curriculum	for	today	based	on	her	personal	experiences	living	in	Mexico.	It	is	important	to	pay	attention	that	in	this	meeting	people	joined	in	making	the	food	right	away,	whereas	in	the	previous	meeting	they	did	not.	One	noticeable	reason	for	that	to	happen	might	be	the	much	more	known	curriculum,	so	it	left	a	space	for	free	play	with	the	curriculum,	with	personal	adaptations,	and	less	people	treated	it	as	set	curriculum.	It	is	important	to	mention	that	the	recipes	for	the	gatherings	were	offered	as	if	they	were	the	curriculum	offered	from	the	Ministry	of	Education.	However	it	was	an	optional	curriculum.	Although	I	kept	going	around	the	room	reminding	participants	that	it	is	only	a	suggested	curriculum	and	nothing	is	set	or	firm,	participants	only	took	the	liberty	to	make	changes	in	the	second	and	subsequent	gatherings.	Participants	managed	this	in	different	ways	based	on	their	personal	experiences	as	educators	at	Windsor	House.	For	instance,	at	the	first	gathering,	Linda	worked	with	Helen	to	make	stuffed	peppers;	at	one	point	in	the		 135	process	they	became	worried	when	they	noticed	another	team	cutting	peppers	differently	than	what	they	understood	was	needed.	As	a	side	note,	the	other	team	worked	on	Matbucha,	which	was	a	different	dish.	As	Linda	explained	during	the	feast	of	the	first	gathering:		How	about	this?	We	tried,	Helen	and	I	right	away,	first	thing,	to	set	the	curriculum.	How	we	can	get	out,	right?	How	come	we	do	what	we	are	supposed	to	do?	We	could	not.	Curriculum	wins.	You	cannot	get	rid	of	it…	We	did	not	read	the	curriculum	first.	We	tried	to	figure	it	ourselves	and	then…	And	then,	they	were	so	worried	about	the	other	team	that	Linda	stopped	the	other	team	and	asked	them	to	check	the	directions	in	the	recipe,	that	is,	there	curriculum	for	the	gathering.	Through	this	experience,	Linda	and	Helen	created	an	opportunity	for	participants	to	consider	the	meaning	of	a	set	curriculum	versus	emerged	or	improvised	curriculum	and	the	educator’s	role	in	the	context	of	democratic	education.	Corin	and	Meghan	also	spoke	to	this	during	the	second	gathering.	Corin	claimed,	“Politically	and	philosophically	many	teachers	in	the	public	school	I	am	working	at	feel	similarly	to	teachers	at	Windsor	House.”	At	the	time	of	this	research,	Corin	had	been	teaching	in	public	schools,	Windsor	House,	and	in	after-school	programs	for	youth.		Meghan	added:	Many	students	from	Windsor	House	find	that	school	is	a	good	fit	[when]	moving	to	public	school.	They	feel	respected	for	who	they	are	and	what	they	bring.…	Windsor	House	[offers	a]	different	container	for	all	different	needs	of	children.”		Corin	continued:	There	are	opportunities	to	explore	agency,	but	the	system	itself	is	not	democratic.	Sometimes	I	get	confused	where	I	am	at	because	I	have	one	sibling	at	Templeton	and	one	sibling	at	Windsor	House—I	wonder	what	is	confusing	and	what	is	different	in	the	teacher	position,	voice,	opinion,	in	these	two	different	locations?		 136	This	sense	of	agency	that	Corin	brought	up	continued	to	be	explored	by	others	at	different	gatherings.	The	sense	of	agency	in	terms	of	the	ability	to	initiate	and	make	choices,	based	on	students’	as	well	as	educators’	needs	and	desires.	For	instance,	at	the	last	gathering,	Holly	shared	that	in	her	life	she	experienced	adults	as	the	ones	who	follow	the	rules	and	have	a	say	in	decision	making.	However,	once	she	arrived	to	Windsor	House,	she	encountered	adults	who	do	not	have	a	say	all	the	time	and	sometimes	they	are	even	second	to	younger	community	members.	This	sense	of	agency—the	capacity	of	individuals	to	have	control	over	actions,	having	the	ability	to	make	their	own	choices,	and	feeling	their	voices	in	the	world	are	valuable—represents	the	core	meaning	of	democratic	education.		The	last	few	examples	represent	the	difference	between	complicated	conversations	and	dialogue.	They	conveyed	a	sense	of	sharing	meaning	while	creating	new	meanings	that	may	create	disagreements	and	conflicts.	Hence,	it	is	important	to	be	reminded	that	dialogue	is	an	ongoing	process	of	dealing	with	conflicting	ideas	and	perspectives,	encountering	trust	and	mistrust,	spending	time	together,	becoming	curious	about	the	personal	growth	of	others	and	yourself,	and	showing	interest	in	exploring	ideas	and	situations,	as	opposed	to	being	solution	driven.		This	dialogical	study	contextualized	my	personal	experiences	and	understanding	of	dialogue.	The	story	of	Windsor	House,	which	has	been	oriented	toward	the	dialogical	over	its	history,	is	different	from	the	conflicted	educational	spaces	I	knew.	This	experience	at	Windsor	House	assisted	me	in	rethinking	the	meaning	of	dialogue	within	democratic	education.	In	the	context	I	grew	up	in,	dialogue	is	perceived	as	an	ongoing	negotiation	between	parallel	realities,	while	claiming	to	communicate	and	converse.	On	the	contrary,	in	this	study,	participants	embodied	the	dialogue	offered	while	cooking	together.	One’s	voice	had	to	encounter	others	and	exist	together	and	apart	in	the	room	(i.e.,	world).	Through	those	encounters	in	the	gatherings,	participants	managed	to	stay	with	the	challenge	of	seeking	dialogue.	As	Biesta	(2012a)	clarifies:	A	dialogue	is	an	ongoing	process	and	an	ongoing	challenge,	also	because	the	question	whether	justice	is	done	to	all	parties	involved	poses	itself	again	and	again.	The	challenge	…	is	to	stay	in	[the]	dialogue	and	to	acknowledge	that	the	difficulty	of		 137	staying	in	this	place	is	an	essential	dimension	of	what	it	means	to	engage	with	and	exist	in	the	world.	(p.	96)	Staying	engaged	in	the	conversations	while	cooking	together	was	difficult	for	several	participants.	However,	persisting	and	staying	with	this	difficulty	invited	us	to	engage	with	challenges	in	the	world,	and	as	Biesta	(2012a)	refers	to	it,	that	which	allowed	dialogue	to	begin.	When	assistance	was	needed,	we	sought	to	meet	each	participant’s	needs.	Assistance	meant	different	things	to	different	people.	Some	participants	needed	someone	to	wash	vegetables	and	move	them	from	one	food	station	to	another,	thereby	allowing	everyone	to	continue	the	conversation.	Others	shared	that	they	were	truly	not	confident	with	cooking;	they	felt	the	need	to	follow	the	recipe,	so	it	was	hard	for	them	to	be	engaged	in	the	conversation.	Implementing	different	ideas	made	the	process	more	challenging	work	for	almost	everyone.	The	experience	of	feeling	each	other’s	imperfection	allowed	the	in-the-making	feeling	to	be	present.	Different	participants	shared	that	staying	present	was	an	ongoing	challenge	of	dialogue:	teachers	felt	this	regularly	and	felt	Windsor	House	provided	systematic	support	for	this	work.	In	practice,	this	systematic	support	meant	that	people	created	and	nourished	a	safe	space	to	share	their	vulnerability.	To	many,	it	takes	ongoing	trust.	Thus,	our	collaborative	cooking	became	a	metaphor	for	the	ongoing	challenge	of	dialogue	that	Biesta	(2012a)	talks	about.	Although	the	study	participants	all	worked	together	in	the	same	school,	during	the	entry	interview	many	shared	that	they	felt	the	absence	of	encountering	each	other,	especially	at	metaphorical,	philosophical,	and	pedagogical	levels.	This	encounter	started	less	personal	than	it	ended.	As	the	gatherings	proceeded,	an	embodied	trust	among	participants	allowed	wonders,	pain,	fear,	and	hope	to	feel	welcome	in	the	dialogical	challenge.	This	study	offered	participants	time	to	pause	and	to	be	with	each	other	in	a	nurturing	environment	with	an	abundance	of	food,	assistance,	listening,	and	sharing.	After	cooking	together	and	nurturing	the	bodies	and	minds	of	many,	participants	expressed	experiencing	a	sense	of	gratitude.	Meghan	and	Meron	shared	that	they	were	thankful	for	this	opportunity	to	be	together	in	the	middle	of	the	pressures	of	teaching	and	learning.	The	next	year’s	move,	without	having	a	building	for	the	school,	added	pressure	to	the	regularly	zealous	and	sometimes	hectic	pace	of	the	school.	At	the	same	time,	participants	were	open		 138	to	discuss	ideas	for	how	the	move	would	feel	and	be	solved.	At	our	last	gathering,	Kelley	brought	up	the	idea	that	perhaps	the	staff	could	help	to	find	solutions,	knowing	they	may	need	to	let	the	new	circumstances	teach	us	in	a	much	more	organic	ways.	As	Kelley	suggested,	our	first	gathering	was	similar	to	having	a	set	plan	alongside	the	curriculum	itself.	As	I	presented	it	in	the	first	gathering,	“Let’s	start	and	see	where	it	takes	us.	Do	you	want	to	raise	any	intentions	for	us	to	follow	about	our	dialogue	in	democratic	education	or	of	being	democratic	educators	or	not	all	the	above?”		Thus	the	path	continued	into	the	second	gathering,	with	several	conversations	held	around	the	notion	of	having	many	truths	instead	of	a	single	truth.	I	noted	the	following:	Several	educators	mention	that	many	times	couples	separated	after	joining	Windsor	House.	I	suggested	that	it	may	be	connected	to	the	fact	that	you	get	so	used	to	questioning	so	many	truths	in	democratic	education,	that	this	may	transfer	to	personal	relationships.	Many	participants	agreed	around	the	table.		At	the	last	gathering,	participants	had	several	conversations	that	represented	the	co-existence	of	multiple	truths.	In	a	conversation	with	Meghan,	Jason	shared,	“For	me,	the	projects	are	the	central	idea.	The	idea	is	that	we	are	going	to	do	projects	and	on	the	side,	there	will	do	some	math.”	Meghan	continued,	“I	have	a	different	idea	than	you—neither	is	right	or	wrong	right	now,	and	mine	was	the	mornings	would	be	academic	focus	and	in	the	afternoons	would	have	multiple	foci.	I	think	either	could	work.”	I	once	again	affirmed	that	there	is	an	ongoing	exploration.	Nothing	is	written	in	stone	in	the	process.	These	examples	may	draw	a	simplistic	sketch	of	the	needed	continuity	during	the	process	of	participants’	ongoing	intention	to	explore	complicated	conversations.	As	discussed	and	experienced	in	this	study,	dialogue	requires	time,	patience,	curiosity,	and	desire	to	not	know	the	answer.	As,	in	this	study,	dialogue	asked	us	to	be	with	a	conflict,	a	question	without	trying	to	solve	it	right	away,	to	ensuring	the	ball	of	ideas	continues	to	roll	for	the	sake	of	exploring	what	would	come	instead	of	remaining	with	fixed	minds	and	solution.	Being	with	it	means	listening	to	all	the	narratives	and	not	following	a	set	curriculum,	a	set	of	rules,	or	one	truth.			 139	This	study	with	Windsor	House	educators	enabled	me	to	think	critically	and	creatively	and	presented	me	with	an	opportunity	to	release	a	burden	I	have	carried	within	me	all	my	life.	Palestinian	and	Israeli	voices	have	occupied	my	heart	and	mind	from	an	early	age.	This	conflict	impacted	my	ability	to	invite	dialogical	processes	without	fear.	This	fear	led	me	to	rethink	the	narrative	I	grew	up	with	and	the	society	I	grew	up	in.	I	feared	the	task	of	creating	an	alternative	school,	society,	or	even	reality.	I	feared	being	engaged	in	complicated	conversations	regarding	the	conflict,	both	inward	and	outward.	However,	studying	and	living	democratic	education	for	two	decades	revealed	to	me	that	taking	the	time	to	listen	permits	opportunities	of	solitude	in	which	one	may	come	to	know	otherwise.	As	Greene	(as	cited	in	Pinar,	2011)	noted:	This	inner	solitude	cannot	easily	be	conducted	in	public	amidst	the	clamor	of	the	crowd;	Greene	(2001,	60)	emphasizes	“taking	time	…	moments	of	stillness	…	[in]	coming	to	know.”	This	acknowledgment	of	the	significance	of	solitude	underlines	the	interiority	of	study,	including	its	dialogical	character,	and	not	only	with	others.	One	engages	oneself	in	complicated	conversation	as	well	as	with	others.	(p.	99)	Throughout	the	journey	of	conducting	this	study	I	learned	that	staff	also	need	time	apart	from	others.	Ironically,	it	was	the	Windsor	House	environment,	and	the	participants	in	the	study	in	particular,	who	brought	me	to	this	understanding.	Thus,	in	the	time	between	gatherings,	as	well	as	during	gatherings,	participants	held	space	for	each	other	to	be	in	an	inner	solitude,	if	possible,	as	well	as,	a	space	of	encounter	with	one	another.	For	instance,	during	the	last	gathering,	in	between	small	conversations,	participants	laughed	while	making	food	and	shared	their	feelings	regarding	the	work	without	a	set	curriculum.	Helen	offered,	“If	I	cut	carrots,	is	it	going	to	be	useful	for	somebody?”	Helen’s	offering	was	an	example	of	reaching	out	without	making	the	offering	uncomfortable.	Right	after	that	Jason	asked	if	instead	of	cutting	he	could	grate	the	carrots	for	his	cabbage	salad.	This	lived	experience	offers	the	voice	of	letting	go	and	allowing	the	present	to	unfold	organically.	It	enabled	us	to	avoid	fixed	mindsets	and	continue	staying	in	the	ongoing	organic	growth	of	dialogue.	This	inquiry	invited	us	to	look	at	a	recipe	as	one	option	out	of	many.	It	called	for	listening	and	asked	us	to	be	there,	not	just	pretending	we	were	there.	As	in	meditation		 140	practices,	this	involves	the	need	to	unplug	from	distracting	thoughts	and	being	able	to	listen	and	reconnect.		The	unfolding	dialogical	process	offered	a	different	story	than	the	sum	of	its	parts.	Dialogue	does	not	offer	truth	or	solutions.	Instead	of	holding	one	truth,	it	supplied	a	back	and	forth	with	plural	ideas,	as	if	to	say	one	should	trust	the	process	and	keep	the	question	of	“what	if”	available.	This	way	of	being	invites	re-listening	to	stories,	choices,	and	fears	of	past,	present,	and	future.	Thus,	for	all	this	to	happen,	humans	need	to	encounter	others	by	taking	actions	in	the	world	which	invite	dialogue	(Arendt,	1954).		Interruption	Wings	Look	for	Adaptation	Branches	This	theme	arose	in	my	a/r/tographic	inquiry	in	the	context	of	interruption	and	the	importance	of	staying	open.	Several	weeks	ago,	two	picnic	tables	arrived	to	our	co-op.	I	felt	invited	to	contribute	a	painted	tablecloth.	Although	I	felt	invited,	their	arrival	felt	like	an	interruption.	To	live	or	to	leave,	I	wonder?	Do	I	need	to	choose	between	these	two?	Am	I	ready?	Am	I	ready	to	look	forward?	Am	I	ready	to	draw	the	lines	I	believe	in?	The	desire	to	stay	on	task	with	my	writing	plan	came	into	question.	Do	I	stay	with	the	set	curriculum	or	keep	my	playful	and	hopeful	spirit	in	my	writing	and	join	this	dialogue	with	this	interruption?	The	interruption	arrived	as	a	question	-	do	I	listen	to	my	heart	that	asks	for	an	aesthetic	experience?	As	I	wrote	while	engaging	in	the	world	artistically;		Being	here	with	a	picnic	table.	The	first	person	invites	me	to	join	the	conversation.	Coming	with	food,	colors,	attention,	desire	to	connect,	and	hope	to	be	assisted.	Two	eyes	are	looking	at	me	from	the	far	right	corner	of	the	table.	Carrying	a	story	of	cutting	branches.	Remembering	the	desire	to	grow	freely	into	the	sky.	Free	to	be	themselves	without	fear.	The	eyes	become	two	round	spots	on	free	wings	of	a	butterfly.	Free	with	open	wings	ready	to	find	a	branch	to	rest	on.		This	a/r/tographic	process	continues	to	unfold.	Starting	with	cooking,	followed	by	the	tablecloth,	and	continues	with	the	picnic	tables.	The	artistic	process	unfolds	itself	and	reveals	layers	upon	layers	of	discoveries.	What	is	next?	As	the	picnic	tables	arrived	and	interrupted	my	writings,	I	realized	how	important	it	was	to	be	interrupted.	Being		 141	interrupted	wakes	us	to	our	senses.	Awaking	to	the	important	question	of	if	not	now,	when?	As	I	experience	with	the	‘If	Not	Now’	movement,	the	interruption	comes	as	a	gift.	These	activists	from	If	Not	Now	play	and	offer	ways	to	be	back	into	our	hearts	through	non-violence	interruptions.	Armed	with	non-violence	communication	skills,	If	Not	Now	activists	arrive	to	organized	events	that	show	a	one-sided	view	of	the	Palestinian-Israeli	conflict	and	interrupt	the	flow	by	offering	a	different	story,	a	different	voice,	and	a	hopeful	reality.	As	stated	on	the	If	Not	Now	(n.d.)	website:		Will	we	choose	a	Judaism	that	supports	freedom	and	dignity	for	all	Israelis	and	Palestinians,	or	will	we	let	the	leadership	of	the	establishment	define	our	tradition	as	incompatible	with	our	values?	Will	we	continue	down	the	path	of	isolation	and	fear	that’s	destroying	the	lives	of	millions	of	Palestinians	and	alienating	a	generation	of	young	Jews?	Or,	will	we	create	a	vibrant	Judaism	that	emerges	from	the	trauma	of	our	past	to	bring	our	tradition	to	life	in	the	present?	We	have	chosen.	We	are	building	a	Jewish	community	that	recognizes	we	cannot	be	free	absent	of	the	freedom	of	Palestinians.	Like	those	born	wandering	in	the	desert,	we	are	rising	from	our	people’s	trauma	in	order	to	move	us	toward	the	ongoing	promise	of	liberation.		We	will	be	the	generation	to	transform	our	community’s	support	for	the	occupation	into	a	call	for	freedom	and	dignity	for	all.	(If	Not	Now,	When?	section,	para.	1–4)	Connecting	with	what	is	good.	Coming	from	a	place	that	embraces	the	desire	for	freedom	and	dignity	for	all;	doing	so	by	interrupting	reality	in	different	ways.	Good	for	all	humans.	Connecting	with	one	another	from	a	more	hopeful	place.	Through	the	process	of	writing,	it	is	important	for	me	to	write	from	a	hopeful	place.	Dialoguing	through	the	making	and	being.	However,	it	gets	harder	while	being	isolated	in	the	process	of	writing.	The	need	for	others	leads	to	action.	As	Arendt	(1958)	explains:	Action	…	is	never	possible	in	isolation;	to	be	isolated	is	to	be	deprived	of	the	capacity	to	act	…	action	and	speech	are	surrounded	by	and	in	constant	contact	with	the	web	of	the	acts	and	words	of	other	men.	(p.	188)			 142	Years	of	wishing	to	learn	from	everyone	about	this	conflict,	stories,	and	fears	while	forgetting,	at	times,	to	listen	to	my	own	voice,	vision,	and	hope	in	it,	came	to	an	end.	Years	of	occupation	came	to	an	end	and	offered	a	new	beginning.	As	Arendt	(1958)	states:	Because	the	actor	always	moves	among	and	in	relation	to	other	acting	beings,	he	is	never	merely	a	"doer"	but	always	and	at	the	same	time	a	sufferer.	To	do	and	to	suffer	are	like	opposite	sides	of	the	same	coin,	and	the	story	that	an	act	starts	is	composed	of	its	consequent	deeds	and	sufferings.	These	consequences	are	boundless,	because	action,	though	it	may	proceed	from	nowhere,	so	to	speak,	acts	into	a	medium	where	every	reaction	becomes	a	chain	reaction	and	where	every	process	is	the	cause	of	new	processes.	(p.	190)	Understanding	the	importance	of	both	sides	of	the	coin,	I	wish	to	find	balance	between	the	doer	and	the	sufferer	in	me.	As	with	dialogue,	finding	the	balance	between	listening,	conversing,	and	wondering,	is	an	important	aspect	in	the	dialogic	play.		Consent	Culture	and	Dialogical	Skill	Set	In	a	broader	conversation	of	democratic	education	the	terms	“reflect	back,”	“needs	met,”	and	“being	with,”	commonly	appear	as	integral	components	of	the	consent	culture.	These	terms	reflect	what	many	democratic	schools	hold	without	labelling	its	school	culture	as	democratic	or	dialogic.	It	is	a	consent	culture	that	enacts	itself	through	the	experience	of	being	together	as	a	community.	An	environment	in	which	others	do	not	claim	to	know	how	one	feels	at	any	moment.	In	practice,	the	consent	culture	requires	ongoing	checking	in,	avoiding	predetermined	assumptions,	and	asking	for	permission.	This	culture	has	been	criticized	throughout	the	years	as	being	too	focused	on	individual	needs	and	for	being	child	centred	(Dewey,	1938;	Rogers,	1969),	with	the	community	members	not	valuing	the	curriculum	as	it	is.	Bronwyn,	who	prefers	not	to	be	called	a	teacher,	clarifies:	Our	intention	is	to	hold	everyone	in	this	community	…	I	notice	students	…	trying	to	figure	out	what	are	the	needs	they	have,	and	then	often	times	there	are	other	students	who	also	have	those	needs,	and	when	it	is	a	need	that	they	recognize	and	collectively	shared,	then	they	have	a	reason	to	join.…	Then	they	get	to	come	against	what	is	in	the		 143	way	for	them.…	Sometimes	what	is	in	the	way	for	them	is	there	was	no	space	for	them	to	see	or	recognize	they	have	needs	that	are	not	getting	met.…	I	feel	sometimes	that	it	is	our	job,	to	help	them	find	out	what	those	are.…	I	am	willing	to	sit	with	someone	in	their	experience	and	fully	explore	what	it	is	that	they	are	currently	experiencing	and	observe	it	and	articulate	it	in	different	ways,	and	they	get	to	reflect	back	to	me	whether	I	am	wrong,	and	I	will	continue	to	explore	it	with	them	and	reflect	back.		Bronwyn’s	comment	emphasized	that	working	with	students	is	not	only	about	meeting	their	needs,	it	is	also	about	what	they	are	willing	to	bring	to	and	share	in	school.	Each	educator,	mentor,	staff	member,	facilitator,	or	teacher	at	Windsor	House	offers	her	or	his	own	skill	set	in	a	self-directed	learning	environment	and	community.	At	Windsor	House,	there	are	no	defined	roles	for	staff	members	to	take	on.	Students	and	staff	expect	students	to	self-direct	their	experiences.	Democratic	education	embraces	the	consent	culture	as	an	ontological	departure	point,	which	invites	a	dialogical	dance.	As	noted	earlier	in	this	chapter,	Meghan	shared	that	it	is	challenging	for	her,	as	the	administrator,	to	encourage	staff	to	define	their	own	roles.	There	are	people	who	see	the	big	picture,	and	there	are	those	who	do	whatever	needs	to	be	done.	It	is	an	ongoing	conversation	about	roles	and	responsibilities.	That’s	where	accountability	comes	in.	In	considering	what	people	want	to	do	and	what	needs	to	be	done,	how	can	we	co-share	the	load?	Following	that,	Meghan	mentioned	that	she	is	interested	in	hearing	from	Corin	(a	teacher),	as	one	who	teaches	in	different	educational	settings:	What	makes	Windsor	house	what	it	is	for	her?	Corin	replied:	Here,	at	Windsor	House,	I	feel	full	sense	of	autonomy	as	a	teacher.	You	can	choose	what	you	want	to	be.	I	have	been	on	those	planning	days	(that’s	how	other	schools	call	it)	before,	and	what	you	do	on	planning	days,	you	get	the	roster	of	who	is	enrolled	in	your	class,	and	that’s	what	you	have	for	the	rest	of	the	year	based	on	which	students	are	in	your	class.	Here,	on	my	very	first	day	at	Windsor	House,	which	was	a	retreat,	Meghan	did	a	round	and	checked	with	people	what	do	you	want	to	do	this	year?	And	what	do	you	want	to	do	this	year?	And	what	are	you	interested	in	doing?	At	that	moment	I	was	worried	that	what	if	nobody	would	want	to	teach	the	teens?…	Here,	at		 144	Windsor	House,	you	get	an	autonomy	plus	structural	freedom	and	fluidity	that	is	very	different	from	a	mainstream	school.		There	is	no	sense	of	authority	throughout	this	process	of	checking	in	with	others	and	respecting	where	you	are	now	and	what	you	need.	This	may	lead	to	ownership,	responsibility,	and	sense	of	agency.	As	Holly	shared	in	the	her	first	interview,	which	was	the	second	group	interview:		I	started	here	as	a	family	member	3	years	ago.…	We	had	a	hard	time	in	public	school,	and	we	happened	to	stumble	upon	Windsor	House.	And	I	do	not	know	what	to	say	to	everyone	in	my	life	about	this	big	move.	I	feel	I	have	grown	so	much	here,	to	the	greatest	level	in	my	life.…	[I	have	an]	awareness	for	the	moment	and	of	myself.	I	was	forced	to	look	at	myself.	It	was	a	Buddhist	experience	for	me,	to	help	of	everybody	here	to	go	through	it.	I	feel	the	collaboration,	the	support	of	this	community.	I	did	not	have	a	community,	and	I	found	it	here.		This	personal	growth	that	Holly	experiences	is	one	side	of	the	same	story	that	Corin	shared	about	the	autonomy	of	the	teacher	role,	and	sense	of	agency	as	a	staff	member	at	Windsor	House.	Those	are	not	only	the	adult	privileges.	The	choices	of	what	to	do,	where	to	be,	and	who	to	be	are	available	for	students	as	well.	After	the	move	it	may	be	even	more	vivid	since	people	will	not	be	able	to	be	in	all	sites	on	the	same	day.	Thus	the	choice	will	be	more	active	then	than	in	the	past	and	may	take	the	parent	participation	component	of	democratic	education	to	a	new	level.	As	Meghan	explained	at	the	last	gathering:		People	will	need	to	check	with	their	friends	what	they	are	doing	in	order	to	make	choices	that	work	for	them.	How	can	we	co-create	something	that	works	for	us?…	What	resources	you	can	bring	to	the	table?	What	do	you	know	about	your	kid?	What	kids	would	she	or	her	like	to	be	with?	Where	would	she	or	her	go?		The	human	need	to	take	action	in	the	world	invites	and	encourages	dialogue	that	enables	the	desire	for	the	dialogic	encounter,	while	one	needs	to	encounter	others	(Arendt,	1954).	It	is	the	relational	corresponding	between	the	subjective	and	the	social	reconstruction	that	brings	the	curriculum	to	life.	As	Pinar	(2011)	claims:			 145	Subjective	and	social	reconstruction	are	coextensive	and	reciprocally	related.	When	they	occur	in	school,	it	is	through	the	dialogical	encounter	that	is	the	complicated	conversation	that	is	the	lived	experience	of	curriculum.	(p.	139)	It	is	important	to	add	that	while	this	study	aims	to	explore	democratic	education,	there	are	also	voices	among	the	participants	who	do	not	think	the	school	is	democratic.	As	Helen	and	I	shared	during	the	second	gathering:		[A]	sense	of	agency	is	different	from	agency.	I	think	that	Windsor	House	is	not	democratic	at	all—it	is	whatever	it	serves	at	any	given	time	…	democracy	as	a	sense	of	agency.	We	allow	young	people	to	do	things	that	are	very	brave	in	our	society	that	does	not	trust	young	people	to	make	decisions	about	their	own	lives.	And	it	has	very	little	to	do	with	voting.	It	has	to	do	with	our	personal	attitude.…	Well,	some	form	of	voting.…	We	are	under	that	heading	just	because	it	is	better	than	anything	else	to	get	the	sense	of	what	we	are	doing	here.	But,	in	actuality,	people	on	the	outside	think	there	is	a	school	council	and	they	vote	on	rules.	(Helen)	It	is	interesting	because,	for	me,	when	I	think	about	the	term	of	democratic	education,	I	do	not	think	so	much	about	the	structure	of	voting.	I	think	about	democracy.	It	is	not	about	a	final	product.	It	is	all	the	time	evolving.	There	is	all	the	time	and	space	for	different	voices,	for	plurality,	pushing	boundaries,	upholding	the	rights	of	everyone.	(Ofira)	We	make	a	mistake	around	the	idea	of	democracy,	and	one	of	them	is	perhaps	me	having	certain	teaching	style,	or,	for	me	personally,	I	do	not	care	if	someone	is	outside	of	a	classroom.	The	thing	that’s	important	for	me	is	that	young	people	do	not	feel	they	need	to	go,	or,	if	they	do	not	the	like	the	way	a	teacher	speaks	to	them,…	they	can	step	out	without	being	worried	about	the	consequences—[it	requires]	parent	participation	[and]	giving	kids	agency.	(Helen)	The	meaning	of	this	education	connects	directly	to	the	decision	that	all	participants	were	part	of	the	feasts	during	the	gatherings.	The	reality	made	participants	adapt	the	curriculum	to	whatever	was	needed,	that	is,	the	recipe.	As	Meron	realized	in	the	first	gathering,	and		 146	then	others	agreed,	collaboratively	cooking	is	similar	to	the	work	of	a	democratic	school.	For	instance,	David	came	to	me	to	share	that	he	was	making	the	Tabouleh	with	quinoa	so	that	most	people	could	eat	it.	Adaptation,	as	in	David’s	example,	freed	many	stuck	moments	in	the	making	and	collaborating.		Reminding	Us	to	Be	Our	Own	Guest	Within	Hospitality	There	are	numerous	ways	to	cook,	listen,	be	with,	share	opinions,	participate,	teach,	be	engaged,	converse,	and	simply	be.	The	last	gathering	was	a	lived	experience	of	such	environment.	As	I	wrote:	The	food	and	the	table	are	ready,	with	only	last	small	tasks	to	be	completed.	This	meeting	holds	the	feel	of	‘there	is	no	right	way.’	People	are	doing	what	they	feel	like,	as	they	make	the	dish	they	invent	or	simply	make	a	dish	they	know.	Talking,	listening,	and	helping	around.	The	eating	starts	and	small	conversations	about	daily	issues	come	up.	Meghan	asks,	“Are	we	waiting	for	people	to	start	eating?”	Helen	and	Jason	replied	together	while	eating	themselves,	“No.”	Several	of	us	burst	out	laughing.	There	is	one	participant,	Holly,	who	is	waiting	to	start	only	when	everyone	is	seated.	This	simple	but	telling	example	of	when	to	start	eating	reflects	the	way	of	being	a	member	of	the	Windsor	House	community.	While	staff	members	operate	daily	in	parallel	realities,	being	aware	of	each	student’s	needs	and	stories	invites	and	assists	in	non-binary	thinking.	As	Biesta	(2013b)	says:		A	teacher’s	job	is	like	playing	simulative	chess	with	different	students’	complexity	of	theory	in	a	three-layer	chess	game.	It	is	important	to	set	the	target	for	each	student	but	also	know	to	let	go	at	times.	Engagement	and	emancipation.	(42:35)	It	is	important	to	pay	attention	to	the	act	of	‘letting	go	at	times’	in	the	context	of	Windsor	House.	In	many	educational	settings,	teachers’	responsibilities	are	to	keep	students	on	task	and	ensure	the	curriculum	is	delivered;	Freire	(1970)	refers	to	this	as	the	banking	concept	of	education.			 147	Hence,	the	banking	concept	is	anti-dialogical,	with	teachers	serving	in	many	ways	as	the	oppressors,	and	students,	as	the	oppressed—those	who	lack	opportunities	to	think	critically	and	independently,	be	creative,	and	question.	In	anti-dialogic	environments,	the	oppressors,	that	is	the	teachers,	suffer	from	a	lack	of	listening,	communicating,	respecting,	and	humility	toward	their	students.	In	contrast,	at	Windsor	House,	staff	are	encouraged	to	hold	the	space	for	whatever	is	needed,	as	sometimes	the	important	work	of	doing	is	to	let	go.	As	I	shared	on	the	third	gathering:	When	I	saw	that	nobody	had	replied	[to	my	emails	regarding	the	curriculum	of	our	third	gathering],	I	thought	there	was	something	going	on	that	I	was	not	aware	of,	and	then	David	explained	to	me	in	a	short	email	what	was	going	on,	and	I	thought,	“OK,	that’s	a	good	sign.…	The	group	sent	me	the	vibe	that	something	was	happening,	that	they	were	not	just	ignoring”	[I	do	remember	that	it	was	a	trust	test	for	me	with	the	group].	In	different	cases	and	experiences	in	my	life,	I	could	easily	think,	“Oh,	they	do	not	care.”	This	time	it	was	not	the	case.	It	did	not	carry	those	feelings.	[I	decided	to	let	go].	It	felt	like	being	disconnected.	I	was	travelling,	so	I	was	not	close	to	hear	and	feel	what	the	community	went	through	while	I	was	gone	with	the	big	move	[as	the	school	was	relocating	at	the	end	of	June].	I	was	away	for	a	month.	I	even	wrote	to	my	advisor	and	asked	her	for	her	advice	regarding	this	situation.	I	suggested	I	would	bring	a	readymade	food	for	this	time,	so	it	could	offer	us	a	different	experience	in	our	monthly	gathering—something	to	compare	with	other	meetings	[where	we	cooked	everything].	This	experience	of	letting	go	with	the	curriculum	planning,	that	is,	our	cooking	in	our	third	gathering,	offered	the	group	an	opportunity	to	be	with	each	other,	just	as	the	staff	members	offer	students	at	Windsor	House.	This	was	an	opportunity	to	dwell	in	whatever	comes	from	being	together,	talking,	listening,	and	eating	together,	to	let	go	of	a	set	agenda	and	allow	ourselves	to	dialogue	and	collaborate	without	a	big	task	or	a	topic.	Letting	go	while	paying	attention	to	needs	is	quite	purposeful;	because	of	this,	eating	together	was	what	we	needed.	It	is	important	to	be	reminded	that	the	lived	experience	of	letting	go	can	be	challenging	at	times.	As	Tina	shared	on	the	third	gathering:			 148	I	want	to	address	the	secret	garden	group…	I	was	getting	so	professional	in	my	role	as	a	life	coach;	I	am	trying	to	fit	them	into	this	box,	every	time	I	met	them	in	that	lab,	and	then	someone	suggested	we	go	outside,	and	I	said,	“Great,	let’s	go	outside!”	I	know	it	is	a	bit	chaotic,	but	it	is	better.	And	then,	you	know,	someone	suggests	we	cook	together,	so	we	cook	together.	So	I	start	to	drop	my	agenda	with	them,	and	we	found	each	other.	But	it	is	taking	weeks.	Dropping	the	agenda	and	letting	ourselves	be	with	each	other	creates	an	atmosphere	of	hospitality,	that	is,	coming	with	an	open	heart	and	mind	to	the	other,	our	guest,	and	to	oneself.	This	atmosphere	invites	listening	that	creates	a	democratic	setting	for	dialogue	to	happen.	These	democratic	characteristics	of	Windsor	House	are	beyond	curriculum	transmission	or	democratic	structure.	They	offer	a	safe	place	of	hospitality,	while	simultaneously	embracing	democratic	principles,	engagement,	and	practices.	Moreover,	the	Windsor	House	community	has	committed	to	dialogue,	challenging	conversations,	and	critical	encounters.	As	I	reflected	after	the	second	gathering,	I	begin	to	understand	that	the	role	of	school	is	dialogic	with	many	more	personal	and	emotional	goals,	which	leads	to	a	really	different	dialogical	discussion,	since	all	sides	do	not	try	to	direct	the	other	away	from	listening	and	curiosity.	On	the	contrary,	it	is	about	creating	space	to	what	would	happen	in	the	interaction,	while	encountering	each	other	…	for	several	participants,	listening	to	what’s	needed	and	adapting	is	more	important	than	being	a	democratic	school.	The	term	democratic	is	too	defined	for	many.		Although	listening	and	adapting	are	about	engaging	democratically	with	one’s	community,	it	seems	that	the	issue	is	not	whether	one	is	acting	in	democratic	ways,	but	rather	that	the	term	democratic	it	is	not	well	defined.	At	Windsor	House,	the	term	democratic	is	perceived	by	many	as	a	structured	way	of	acting,	with	rules	and	procedures,	and	as	a	different	term	from	hospitality,	that	is,	the	whatever	culture,	I	want	to	suggest	that	hospitality	exists	within	the	democratic	atmosphere	and	is	an	essential	part	of	being	democratic.	By	claiming	that,	I	suggest	that	there	are	many	less	visible	and	known	guidelines	that	create	democratic	environment	such	as	plurality	and	sense	of	agency	in	addition	to	visible	and	practical		 149	aspects	such	as	school	council	and	justice	committee	of	a	democratic	school.	As	Helen	shared	on	the	second	gathering,		I	do	not	think	Windsor	House	is	democratic	at	all.	I	think	that	Windsor	House	is	whatever	serves	it	at	any	given	time.	So,	democracy	in	a	sense	of	voting,	which	is	different	from	what	Corin	is	saying,	which	is	sense	of	agency.	I	think	that	the	best	we	offer	here	is	sense	of	agency.	And	we	allow	young	people	to	do	things	that	are	very	brave	in	our	society	of	not	trusting	young	people	for	them/for	us	to	trust	them	to	make	decisions	about	their	own	lives.		This	safe	space	of	hospitality,	which	offers	a	sense	of	agency,	does	not	seem	to	offer	enough	security	for	several	educators	who	wish	to	uphold	the	democratic	mechanism	of	the	school.	Especially	at	that	point	in	time,	when	the	school	community	faced	a	big	move	to	a	multi-campus	model	after	losing	its	building.	It	is	interesting	to	pay	attention	to	the	concerns	participants	brought	up	on	the	third	gathering	regarding	the	fear	of	losing	the	democratic	culture	of	the	school	with	the	big	move.	As	Andre	shared	on	the	third	gathering:		The	trouble	I	think	we	are	talking	about	next	year	is	that	for	me	it	does	not	mean	democratic	education.…	For	democratic	education	you	need	community.…	What	terrifies	me	about	next	year	is	…	if	we	are	all	in	different	places,	each	one	of	us	has	to	hold	the	entire	democracy	inside	ourselves	because	it	is	not	a	community	doing	democracy	anymore,	it	is	a	single	person	responsible	for	JC	[Justice	Committee]	and	school	council.…	It	all	becomes	individualized,	and	it	is	not	a	democracy	anymore.…	I	remember,	I	think	in	my	first	year	at	Windsor	House,	Meghan	described	Windsor	House	as	a	community	of	people	who	bump	up	against	each	other	and	figure	it	out.		The	staff	members	agreed	that	constant	interactions	among	people	within	the	school	community	are	important	for	all.	It	was	the	term	democratic	education	that	reflected	difference.	At	Windsor	House,	this	term	embraces	secure	feelings	for	many,	others	wish	to	undo	the	democratic	structure	and	bring	forward	new	meanings	as	well	as	new	practices	and	initiatives.	First,	it	is	important	to	briefly	explain	the	distinction	between	direct	democracy	and	representative	democracy	before	sharing	Helen’s	(a	participant	and	the	founder	of	Windsor	House)	take	on	it.	Direct	democracy	offers	equal	part	in	decision		 150	making,	which	includes	and	respects	minorities.	While	representative	democracy	offers	elected	representatives	who	handle	decision	making	on	behalf	of	the	voters.	As	Helen	and	I	discussed	in	personal	conversation	later	on	April	2019,		In	the	very	literal	sense	of	the	word,	“democracy"	means	electing	people	to	represent	you,	or,	in	the	case	of	early	Greece,	the	male	landowners	each	having	a	vote	on	how	the	city	is	run.	However,	in	modern	parlance,	it	has	taken	on	sort	of	a	catchall	phrase	to	mean	people	have	some	power.	So,	if	you	consider	voting	for	one	person	to	represent	you	completely	in	some	organization,	you	probably	are	misled.…	Democracy	[has]	a	very	broad	definition.	But	at	Windsor	house,	we	don’t	elect	people	to	speak	for	us;	…	every	single	person	gets	a	vote	at	a	school	meeting.	But	unfortunately,	we	are	quite	limited	as	to	what	we	can	allow	to	children	to	vote	on.	So	we	can’t	let	them	vote	on	safety	matters	or	drug	matters	or	gun	use	matters	or	…	and	the	list	goes	on.	And	it	is	perfectly	reasonable	and	sensible.	So	we	try	to	give	the	children	a	voice	so	that	they	can	tell	us	what	they	think	…	Windsor	House	tries	to	be	democratic	in	the	sense	of	in	the	broader	sense,	of	giving	people	a	voice.	So,	we	just	use	the	word	democracy	as	a	byword.	…	Some	schools	try	and	teach	democracy	by	having	representatives	who	are	elected	and	then	who	do	certain	jobs	and	so	on.	We	don’t	do	any	of	that	kind	of	thing.	What	we	do…	the	part	of	democracy	that	we	are	interested	in,	[which]	is	the	part	where	people	feel	heard	and	are	active	in	setting	as	many	rules	as	possible,	…	so	when	I	say	that	we	don’t	do	democracy	at	Windsor	House	what	I	mean	is	that	we	don’t	do	that	end	of	democracy,	that	setting	up	of	representatives	and	people	…	which	quite	often	turns	into	a	popularity	contest	…	that’s	why	I	am	not	thrilled	about	the	word	“democracy.”	I'd	like	a	better	word.	(Helen)	In	the	third	gathering,	educators	raised	the	concern	regarding	the	existence	of	democratic	structure	of	the	school	several	times.	As	Andre	shared	in	his	first	interview	in	this	study,	he	is	interested	investigating	democratic	education	and	advocating	for	democratic	education.	He	shared	in	the	third	gathering	his	worries	about	not	being	able	to	keep	the	democratic	structures	of	the	school	in	the	new	setting	(i.e.,	the	multi-campus	setting).	He	explained	that	for	him	it	works	in	the	current	setting	thanks	to	the	fact	that	the	school	functions	in	one	main	location,	where	everyone	is	a	part	of	it.	The	conversation		 151	rolled	from	Andre	to	Helen,	who	shared	her	understanding	along	the	years,	which	kept	unfolding	and	expanding.	Helen	has	come	to	believe	that	it	does	not	matter	how	much	she	planned	ideas	differently	each	year,	it	always	becomes	a	new	story	once	she	encounters	the	students	simply	because	they	keep	changing	and	adaptations	are	needed	on	the	go.	Later,	Heather	joined	the	conversation	with	historical	anecdote	about	the	Justice	Committee	in	Windsor	House.	As	she	shared:	I	remember	the	time	that	we	did	…	we	used	to	rotate	who	were	doing	the	JC	[Justice	Committee].	We	did	JC	where	everybody	took	a	day.	Oh,	we	had	the	kids	do	it.	Yeah,	they	had	a	duty,	we	had	a	list	and	we	had	to	go	through	a	whole	roster.	And	then,	we	ended	up	bringing	food	(laugh),	because	it	actually	brought	them	and	they	were	willing	to	cooperate.		Heather’s	anecdote	led	the	conversation	to	questioning	the	democratic	structure	and	institutions	of	school	in	relation	to	the	school	environment	that	to	do	much	more	with	the	people	and	the	culture	of	this	place.	As	Kristen	added,		Sometimes	I	get	worried	about	[how]	the	“the	institution	or	system	controls	us.”	I	hope	you	guys	do	not	mind,	but	I	do	not	like	the	bashing	of	the	mainstream	school	all	the	time	because	sometimes	I	see	so	many	beautiful	things	there	and	really,	I	believe	in	what	I	was	doing	there.	I	think	I	could	do	wonderful	things	next	year,	because	I	do	not	think	the	institution	controls	me,	and	I	do	not	think	that	it	takes	what	happens	in	the	classroom.	It	is	definitely	sets	parameters	and	it	is	does	not	allow	creative	thoughts	…	there	are	limits,	for	sure.	But,	it	does	not	mean	that	it	does	not	dictate	what	should	happen.	Yeah,	I	guess	it	comes	down	to	people.	When	I	am	talking	about	Windsor	House,	I	am	not	always	talking	about	institutional	democratic	education,	like	you	said	[directs	it	to	Andre].	It	does	not	interest	me	much.	The	same	thing	with	governments	all	around	the	world	…	you	see?	You	have	a	democracy,	and	how	does	[that]	democracy	make	it	healthy,	you	know?		The	same	way	here,	we	are	strengthened	by	many	institutions	that	set	priorities	and	values.	And,	I	never	saw	so	much	grace	to	each	other,	to	students,	to	staff,	and	loveness.	That	kind	of	acceptance	and	listening,	and	it	is	beautiful.	It	does	not	happen	in	schools		 152	at	the	time,	but	it	has	more	to	do	with	people	and	less	to	do	with	democratic	institutions.		Jason	and	Tina	agreed	with	Kristen	and	the	conversation	continued	with	Meron,	as	she	clarified:	I	think	it	is	about	the	people,	and	it	is	the	culture	that	allows	us	to	be	that	way.	I	learnt	from	the	culture	of	this	place	to	be	in	a	way	that	works	with	this	place	…	‘cause	it	is	certainly	transformed	my	way	of	being	…	there	is	that	aspect	of	that	–	I	do	not	think	we	all	brought	it	with	us	here.	The	move	Andre	refers	to	happened	right	after	the	study	ended	onsite.	The	move	was	required	because	the	school	building	was	in	the	process	of	being	demolished.	It	was	not	the	first	time	that	Windsor	House	community	lost	its	building.	Thus,	many	community	members	held	this	space	of	fear	and	worries	and	managed	to	continue	the	search	of	alternatives.	The	following	school	year	arrived	and	there	was	no	school	building.	However,	the	community	decided	to	try	the	multi-campus	idea,	which	meant	different	locations	for	groups	of	students.	The	locations	have	been	represented	in	an	online	space	and	students	can	sign	up	for	the	various	spaces	on	a	weekly	schedule.	There	are	a	few	pick-up	and	drop-off	locations	for	school	transportation	along	with	the	support	of	community	members	carpooling.	For	instance,	the	locations	include	a	maker	space,	a	farm,	a	theatre,	a	permanent	home	base	for	younger	students,	the	forest,	the	beach,	public	libraries,	and	outdoor	and	indoor	field	trips.	As	expected,	this	move	set	challenges	for	the	school	in	a	variety	of	aspects	such	as	its	capacity	to	operate	all	locations	as	multi-aged	spaces.	Thus,	there	has	been	a	big	struggle	to	get	all	ages	together	in	one	place,	as	Windsor	House	had	in	the	old	building	where	everyone	knows	everyone	and	allowed	for	friendships	to	span	large	age	range.	Although	all	spaces	in	the	multi-campus	setting	could	technically	be	considered	multi-age,	in	reality	only	a	few	are,	such	as	the	Revue	Stage	(i.e.,	the	theatre)	and	the	farm	spaces.	Thus,	community	field	trips	and	theatre	productions	and	special	events	have	become	an	important	aspect	of	keeping	the	community	feel	of	Windsor	House.	As	Ellen	(personal	communication,	February	02,	2019)	mentioned,	“It's	a	big	lament	in	the	community.	A	tear	in	the	fabric	of	the	community	of	the	school.”	At	the	same	time,	the	multi-	 153	campus	setting	also	turned	out	to	be	an	opportunity	to	explore	new	ways	of	being	for	staff,	students,	and	the	community	as	whole.	In	the	new	setting,	there	are	experiences	and	perspectives	and	aspects	to	relationship	and	community	that	became	available	and	enriched	community	members’	perceptions	of	what	people	can	accomplish	within	community.		 154	Chapter	6:	Radical	Hospitality	is	the	Host					Figure	7.	Radial	Hospitality.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.			“Hospitality	is	culture	itself	and	not	simply	one	ethic	amongst	others.	Insofar	as	it	has	to	do	with	the	ethos,	that	is,	the	residence,	one’s	home,	the	familiar	place	of	dwelling,	inasmuch	as	it	is	a	manner	of	being	there,	the	manner	in	which	we	relate	to	ourselves	and	to	others,	to	others	as	our	own	or	as	foreigners,	ethics	is	hospitality;	ethics	is	so	thoroughly	coextensive	with	the	experience	of	hospitality.”	(Derrida,	2000,	pp.	16–17)			 		 155	It	might	feel	that	I	post	non-stop	about	the	same	topic	for	the	last	two	weeks.	In	case	you	join	my	wall	only	today,	I	want	you	to	know	that	right	now,	in	Israel,	something	big	has	happened.	Citizens	are	making	connections	between	the	government	actions	and	the	Holocaust	narratives.…	I	feel	it	is	a	wakeup	call	for	all	of	us.	These	refugees	from	Africa	hopefully	will	not	be	deported	thanks	to	many	responsible	citizens.	It	is	beyond	many	non-democratic	laws	that	passed	lately	in	Israel.	It	is	much	more	down-to-earth	human	ethics.	It	is	about	the	notion	of	Radical	Hospitality,	as	Derrida	wrote	about	many	years	ago,	as	a	Jewish	refugee	from	Tunisia,	in	France.	Today,	when	the	news	is	full	of	announcements	of	different	groups	who	stand	together	and	say,	“Not	in	our	names!”	I	refer	to	El	Al	pilots	–	who	declared	they	are	not	going	to	fly	the	asylum	seekers	to	Africa;	I	refer	to	the	letter	of	hundreds	cinema	people	to	Bibi	about	their	refusal	to	support	this	shameful	action;	I	refer	to	Rabi	Suzanne	Silverman,	of	the	Jerusalem	Voice	of	the	Soul	community,	who	announced	yesterday	a	new	initiative	called	"a	hiding	place	for	refugees	in	Anne	Frank's	house."	Last,	but	not	least,	I	refer	to	Colette	Avital,	as	the	Head	of	the	Center	for	Holocaust	Survivors,	who	declared	a	few	hours	ago	that	Holocaust	survivors	oppose	this	expulsion.	I	feel	this	historical	moment	may	be	a	turning	point.	Not	a	stable	one.	Not	with	enough	strong	foundations.	But	a	turning	point	towards	an	opening.	An	opening	of	our	hearts	to	the	other.	The	other	who	is	not	a	Jew	in	Israel.	The	one	who	deserves	democratic	treatment	as	anyone	else	on	this	planet.	I	can	see	the	bridge	to	wake	our	hearts	to	Palestinians.	These	people	who	were	forgotten	under	the	busyness	of	the	news,	of	life.	Time	will	tell.	Tikun	Olam	happens	in	small	steps.	If	we	succeed	with	the	Asylum	seekers,	we	are	one	step	ahead	…	amen!	At	the	time,	writing	this	personal	note	at	the	end	of	January	2018	gave	me	a	sense	of	a	closure.	I	came	to	understand	that	democracy	becomes	robust	while	embracing	interruptions	and	inviting	radical	hospitality	into	our	daily	life	experiences	by	welcoming	the	other	into	our	homes	while	keeping	ourselves	invited.	As	Derrida	(2000)	states	in	the	opening	quote	of	this	chapter,	“The	manner	in	which	we	relate	to	ourselves	and	to	others,	to	others	as	our	own	or	as	foreigners”	(pp.	16–17).	This	allows	us	to	be	out	of	our	comfort	zone	by	not	knowing	what	is	next	while	inviting	the	awe	to	our	day-to-day	living	with	open		 156	door.	As	I	shared	on	the	Israel,	Canada	and	Me	in	the	Age	of	Trump	(Jewish	Voices,	2017)	panel,	which	I	mentioned	earlier	in	this	thesis,		I	grew	up	in	a	big	tribe.	I	grew	up	in	a	big	family	with	a	big	grandma	that	really	makes	everyone	eat	good		…	and	hospitality	is	something	that	is	ingrained	in	me.	Hospitality,	for	me,	is	not	just	feeding	you.	Hospitality,	for	me,	is	to	look	at	your	eyes		and	really	care	about	what	you	feel	right	now	…		For	me,	hospitality	is	to	understand	that	you	may	have	a	different	voice	from	me	…		You	may	…	not	find	my	voice	legitimate,	but	that’s	who	we	are	…	I	do	believe	that	we	are	not	strangers	anywhere;		I	never	make	myself	stranger	anywhere.	I	feel	at	home,	because	I	was	sent	to	this	universe	to	do	something	…	I	am	travelling	on	this	globe	as	one	ball	that’s	turning	around	and	pretending	that	it	is	a	serious	business	but	after	all,	we	are	just	humans.	(54:19)	In	doing	so,	we	are	asked	to	set	aside	power	dynamics	as	if	we	can	set	them	aside.	The	notion	of	power	dynamics	I	refer	to	here	is	that	no	matter	who	may	arrive	and	no	matter	their	perceived	authority	or	not,	all	may	interact	with	each	other	equally.		This	realization	connects	back	to	my	grandmother,	Memeh,	who	used	to	keep	her	home	door	literally	open	when	she	was	home	and	awake.	This	was	especially	true	over	the	last	few	years,	when	her	health	was	not	good	and	she	spent	most	of	her	days	sitting	in	her	big	cozy	sofa	chair,	receiving	expected	and	unexpected	guests.	Memeh’s	days	were	filled	with	artistic	creations,	usually	from	unwanted	reusable	materials	that	allowed	her	to	be	in	a	meditative	meaning	making,	as	discussed	earlier.	In	doing	so	she	was	in	the	creating	and	giving	position	and	stayed	open	for	interruptions	that	assisted	her	in	practicing	radical	hospitality.	All	guests	were	welcome	to	join	the	creations,	conversations,	and	usually	a	Teh	with	Memeh.	It	was	only	several	weeks	after	Memeh	left	the	physical	world	when	I	as	well		 157	as	others	encountered	a	closed	locked	door	in	her	home.	It	was	an	awakening	experience	in	which	we	encountered	our	fears	of	what	comes	next	after	her.	For	me,	this	experience	translates	into	democratic	education	in	terms	of	ongoing	willingness,	that	is,	the	open	door,	to	be	engaged	in	complicated	conversations	that	may	lead	to	dialogue.	As	such,	in	democratic	education	the	door	remains	open	for	whatever,	whenever,	and	whoever	arrives.	There	is	an	ongoing	search	of	uniqueness	by	honouring	the	individual	journey.	However,	as	Biesta	(2015b)	suggests,	it	is	important	to	pay	attention	to	how	quickly	the	notion	of	uniqueness	may	become	an	emphasizing	process	of	our	differences,	inadvertently	isolating	people	from	one	another.	Another	question	that	may	be	asked	in	respect	to	finding	or	empowering	uniqueness	is,	when	does	it	matter	that	I	am	I?	This	refers	to	the	irreplaceable	uniqueness	of	the	individual	(Biesta,	2015b).	Irreplaceability	is	beyond	specific	characteristics;	it	is	more	about	the	situation	that	one	is	called	to	accept	or	be	present	in.	It	is	about	the	way	one	uses	her/his/their	own	uniqueness.	The	call	arrives	for	a	specific	being,	and	nobody	else	could	be	sent	instead.	As	noted	in	the	first	chapter,	I	experienced	a	moment	of	being	irreplaceable	with	Memeh	in	the	hospital.	The	image	at	the	beginning	of	this	chapter	marks	for	me	a	radical	hospitality	to	the	core.	The	two	hands	are	my	grandmother,	Memeh,	and	me;	this	picture	was	taken	when	I	first	visited	her	in	the	hospital	during	her	last	few	weeks	alive.	This	moment	of	my	Memeh	and	me	encapsulates	this	entire	concept	for	me.	As	Biesta	(2015b)	explains,	when	a	friend	is	dying	and	he	asks	if	he	could	see	you,	he	does	not	mean	someone	but	you,	which	is	when	it	matters	that	I	am	I.	We	realize	the	moment	of	uniqueness	in	the	moment	we	enter	into	interaction	and	dialogue.	For	me,	it	was	Memeh’s	last	three	days	alive	when	I	understood	fully	what	Biesta	(2015b)	refers	to	in	terms	of	irreplaceable.	It	was	when	I	was	called	to	be	the	one	who	accompanied	visitors	to	visit	with	her	before	they	said	their	last	goodbye.	It	was	when	I	was	asked	to	lead	her	funeral:	an	irreplaceable	feeling.		Dear	Memeh,		throughout	my	life	with	you,	as	my	grandmother,	mentor,	and	chief,	you	prepared	me	for	this	ending,	of	being	with	you	in	peace,	without	fear.		For	me,	hosting	you	radically	up	to	your	last	breath		 158		has	been	a	gift	I	will	never	forget.		This	experience	added	a	new	layer	in	my	understanding	of	your	wisdom.		Your	call	in	raising	us	within	a	sphere	of	radical	hospitality	allowed	me	to	be	prepared,	although	the	lesson	I	had	to	feel	and	experience	in	relation	to	radical	hospitality		arrived	only	when	you	left.		You	left	just	before	my	graduation,	as	if	to	give	our	entire	tribe	a	last	needed	lesson.		As	you	raised	us,	we	love	and	invite	others	for	the	feast	of	life	when	possible.	Host	them	radically	until	they	are	ready	to	leave.	Keep	them	welcome	and	know	to	let	go	when	needed.	Look	into	the	eyes,	into	our	souls,	beyond	the	physical	world.	Stay	curious	and	open	in	relation.	We	are	all	connected.		Writing	this	personal	note	at	the	beginning	of	January	2019	brought	to	my	attention	the	wider,	though	practical,	understanding	of	dialogue	and	radical	hospitality	in	democratic	education.	The	power	dynamic	in	democratic	education	is	similar	to	how	Memeh	chose	to	live	her	life	and	aligned	with	Derrida’s	(2000)	explanation	of	radical	hospitality:		“Enter	quickly,”	quickly,	in	other	words,	without	delay	and	without	waiting.	Desire	is	waiting	for	what	does	not	wait.	The	guest	must	make	haste.	Desire	measures	time	since	its	abolition	in	the	stranger’s	entering	movement:	the	stranger,	here	the	awaited	guest,	is	not	only	someone	to	whom	you	say	“come,”	but	“enter,”	enter	without	waiting,	make	a	pause	in	our	home	without	waiting,	hurry	up	and	come	in,	“come	inside,”	“come	within	me,”	not	only	toward	me,	but	within	me:	occupy	me,	take	place	in	me,	which	means,	by	the	same	token,	also	take	my	place,	don’t	content	yourself	with	coming	to	meet	me	or	“into	my	home.”	(p.	123)		Derrida	(2000)	invites	the	stranger	to	interrupt,	to	awaken	the	desire	within	to	remain	alive,	to	engage	and	encounter	in	the	world	with	the	world	without	hesitation.	By	doing	so	one	accepts	the	gift	of	being	in	the	moment	with	whatever	comes.	Therefore,	being	engaged	in	the	world	allows	the	other	to	exist	in	the	whatever	culture	in	the	most	inclusive	fashion.		 159	This	can	be	translated	to	a	lived	experience	through	the	following	note,	which	I	took	during	my	visit	in	Israel,	May	2018:	While	driving	in	the	region	I	grew	up	in,	that	is,	the	Galilee	(in	the	north	of	Israel),	I	experienced	first	hand	Derrida’s	(2000)	notion	of	inviting	the	stranger	to	interrupt.		On	a	sunny	hot	dry	day,	on	my	way	to	visit	my	grandmother,	Memeh,	I	stopped	on	the	side	of	the	road	to	make	a	phone	call,	and	I	noticed	a	woman	at	the	bus	stop,	next	to	my	car.	She	was	wearing	a	dress	that	covered	her	whole	body	and	a	hijab.	She	was	holding	a	newborn	baby	in	a	warm	new	white	blanket.	I	opened	the	front	right	window	and	asked	her	where	does	she	need	to	go.		She	replied,	“To	the	shook	(market)	in	Acre.”	“Ta-ali”	(come,	in	Arabic)	I	answered,	and	opened	the	car	door	for	her.	Our	shared	time	in	the	car,	driving	her	to	the	shook	felt	different.	We	both	knew	little	of	one	another’s	mother	tongues	and	could	hardly	communicate.		The	tension	in	the	car	carried	an	additional	flavour	besides	that	of	‘stranger.’		I	allowed	the	stranger	to	interrupt,	to	awaken	the	desire	within	to	remain	alive.	With	broken	languages,	we	managed	to	understand	that	we	were	born	at	a	similar	time.	We	were	both	not	fully	understood.	Radical	Hospitality	Then	and	Now	The	way	I	conceived	of	the	notion	of	hospitality—and	especially	radical	hospitality—has	evolved	throughout	this	study.	Paying	attention	to	my	personal	development,	I	find	it	striking	to	observe	the	personal	and	the	collective	inquiry	that	took	place.	When	I	first	arrived	at	Windsor	House	I	held	the	notion	of	hospitality	in	its	literal	sense,	hospitality	as	a	way	to	be	welcoming.	It	was	only	later	that	I	came	to	understand	that	it	could	present	itself	in	a	less	conspicuous	fashion.	As	I	wrote	in	November	2017:	If	I	have	learned	anything	from	my	experiences	within	the	Democratic	education	Movement,	it	is	to	be	a	radical	host	from	within.	Radical	hospitality	can	be	perceived	in	its	literal	sense	as	a	long	table,	covered	with	food,	waiting	with	an	open	door,	for	just	you	and	me.	However,	in	the	lesson	I	have	been	experiencing	with	the	democratic	school,	radical	hospitality	holds	a	larger	hidden	space	than	the	obvious,	known,	and		 160	visible	one.	Experiencing	radical	hospitality	means	to	feel	welcome	by	all	means—welcome	to	be	whoever	and	whatever	you	feel	like	or	need	to	be	without	the	fear	of	conditions	or	punishments.	It	is	being	loved,	respected,	and	wanted	at	any	moment—you	are	who	you	are.…	This	means	an	individual	can	find	a	safe	space	to	deal	with	not	being	perfect;	to	be	loved	when	attacked	by	others;	to	be	respected	while	your	…	feelings	and	behaviours	become	known	in	public;	to	be	heard	deeply	when	you	disrespect	others	for	unseen	reasons;	to	be	celebrated	for	the	gifts	you	have	to	share,	and	sometimes	would	love	not	to	share;	to	know	it	is	okay	to	withdraw	from	the	world	for	a	time	and	then	come	back;	to	be	loved	for	who	you	are	without	fears	and	conditions.		This	is	my	own	voice.	I	wrote	it	recently,	long	after	our	gatherings,	while	reflecting	on	and	writing	about	how	I	use	to	perceive	hospitality	and	what	I	have	been	encountering	regarding	the	notion	of	hospitality	at	Windsor	House.	I	have	come	to	understand	that	hospitality,	and	to	be	more	accurate,	radical	hospitality,	is	the	comprehensive	theme	of	this	thesis	and	this	school.	Although	it	may	be	perceived	differently	at	different	points	in	the	thesis,	the	notion	of	radical	hospitality	has	been	there	all	the	time,	waiting	to	be	seen	and	named.	Radical	hospitality	is	not	named	at	Windsor	House,	just	as	Derrida	(2000)	talks	about	welcoming	the	stranger	without	asking	him	for	his	name,	as	if	naming	it	would	harm	its	existence.	In	retrospect,	I	realize	that	all	of	this	thesis	can	be	claimed	to	be	radical	hospitality,	as	that	is	the	democratic	way.	One	view	of	democracy	is	the	practice	of	acceptance,	which	is	encountering	plurality	within	the	democratic	structured	boundaries	(Arendt,	1958).	Thus,	radical	hospitality	needs	the	assistance	of	a	democratic	setting.		One	important	question	to	ask	in	relation	to	a	democratic	way	is,	who	actually	benefits	from	the	reduction	of	the	complexity	of	the	democratic	way	into	a	topic	in	the	social	studies	classroom,	as	is	seen	in	the	majority	of	education?	By	asking	this	question	I	mean	to	highlight	that	moving	away	from	hands-on	experience	of	direct	democracy	to	studying	the	subject	through	reading,	writing,	and	discussions	lends	itself	to	a	surface	exploration	of	the	subject,	depriving	students	of	the	opportunity	to	develop	a	deep	understanding	of	what	democracy	could	be.	Thus,	moving	democratic	concepts	away	from	its	state	of	becoming	into	a	subject	in	school	with	a	clear	beginning	and	ending	may	miss		 161	the	heart	and	substance	of	the	matter.	This	is	especially	important	in	the	context	of	exploring	the	notion	of	radical	hospitality	because	democratic	environments,	which	are	constantly	shifting	and	remaking	themselves,	are	needed	to	support	radical	hospitality.	Thus,	while	coming	to	create	changes	in	the	context	of	democratic	practices,	it	is	tempting	for	curriculum	experts	to	focus	on	curriculum	adaptation.	From	my	perspective,	it	is	more	important	to	question	who	is	actually	benefitting	from	this	reduction	of	lived	democracy	within	the	curriculum.	By	using	the	phrase	reduction	of	lived	democracy,	I	mean	that	at	Windsor	House	the	democratic	way	is	a	lived	experience,	while	in	many	other	educational	settings	it	is	merely	a	subject	of	study,	which	reduces	the	deep	experiential	learning	to	an	abstract	concept.	At	Windsor	House,	democracy	and	dialogue	are	not	merely	learned,	these	subjects	are	lived.		The	curriculum,	which	is	designed	and	delivered	by	government	employees	according	to	the	desired	social	order,	is	influenced	by	the	beliefs	and	values	of	few.	However,	in	the	systems	of	mainstream	education,	as	well	as	in	alternative	education,	such	as	democratic	education,	there	are	individuals	and	teams	within	schools	who	may	choose	differently.	Their	choice	to	allow	the	democratic	way	as	a	lived	experience,	not	as	an	independent	topic	in	social	studies,	allows	the	democratic	way	to	become	a	lived	curriculum	and	enables	the	whatever	culture	to	flourish	in	a	broader	sense.	This	refers	back	to	the	whatever	culture	that	I	mentioned	earlier	in	this	thesis	in	the	context	of	Windsor	House,	in	which	people	are	able	to	be	in	the	world	without	being	worried	or	bothered	by	others’	ideas,	fears,	values,	and	judgments.	In	democratic	education,	the	whatever	culture	invites	individuals	to	share	their	voices,	ideas,	and	choices	as	welcomed	guests	in	a	radical	hospitality	environment	while	encountering	others.	Although	this	concept,	the	whatever	culture,	may	feel	like	a	reference	to	a	dismissive	orientation	or	a	laissez	faire	view	(i.e.	nothing	really	matters	here),	I	wish	to	emphasize	that	it	is	about	a	culture	that	is	welcome	to	whatever	and	whomever	shows	up.	Thus,	radical	hospitality	simultaneously	embraces	democratic	principles,	engagement,	and	practices	while	committing	to	dialogue,	complicated	conversations,	and	creative	encounters.	Radical	hospitality	is	about	embracing	difference,	and	perhaps	conflict,	and		 162	anticipating	that	there	will	be	tension.	The	intent	is	to	create	a	safe	space	for	everyone	to	bring	and	be	whatever	is	real	in	any	given	moment.		In	order	to	embrace	all	of	the	aspects	I	mentioned	above	within	the	notion	of	radical	hospitality,	it	is	important	to	begin	again	and	clarify	those	unseen	links	that	bring	them	all	under	the	radical	hospitality	umbrella	with	the	hope	that	by	the	end	of	this	chapter	it	will	all	rest	within	radical	hospitality	as	an	overall	comprehensive	theme	that	all	other	themes	lead	into.	I	am	aware	that	this	is	an	ambitious	chapter	about	huge	themes—dialogue,	democratic	education,	and	artistic	social	engaged	collaboration—that	include	many	subthemes.	However,	this	overarching	understanding	of	radical	hospitality	is	necessary	in	establishing	the	connection	back	to	democracy.	At	this	time	in	the	world,	while	radical	hospitality	calls	into	question	massive	currents	against	the	other/the	foreign/the	refugee,	I	tend	to	pay	attention	to	local	stories,	like	that	of	Windsor	House,	stories	that	put	big	democratic	ideas	and	intentions	into	the	practice	of	lived	experience	of	daily	life	that	create	an	alternative	reality	full	of	hope.	Radical	hospitality,	like	hope,	is	something	in	the	making—it	is	neither	static	nor	achieved.	As	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	mention	in	the	beginning	of	their	book:	Change	is	determined	by	agency	on	the	ground;	although	it	seems	as	if	we	are	in	an	ocean	pulled	by	currents	of	such	depth	and	strength	that	it	exceeds	our	imagination,	it	is	also	true	that	these	changes	are	composed	of	a	myriad	of	micro	events,	and	the	ways	we	create	things,	the	ways	that	we	collaborate,	in	turn	constitute	the	larger	movement:	we	may	not	be	able	to	resist	the	current,	but	we	can	swim	in	imaginative	ways,	we	can	keep	each	other	afloat,	and	in	doing	so	we	contribute	to	the	greater	social	project	and	become	an	integral	part	of	the	long	revolution.	(p.	2)	Thinking	through	this	ongoing,	long,	revolutionary	lens	that	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	refer	to,	the	small	steps	toward	more	democracy	in	education	may	receive	new	meanings.	To	clarify	those	unseen	links	between	the	themes,	I	must	start	with	the	title	of	the	third	chapter	of	this	thesis,	“I	Am	Here	With	You.”	This	title	is	the	beginning	of	being	with,	living	togetherness,	and	practising	deep	listening—all	of	which	are	mentioned	earlier	in	this	thesis	as	remarkable	steps	towards	complicated	conversations	that	may	turn	lead	to		 163	dialogue.	Throughout	Chapter	3,	I	presented	several	themes,	such	as	the	“Individual,	Collective,	and	Democracy”;	“Being	With,	Listening,	and	Assisting”;	“From	Complicated	Conversations	to	Dialogue”;	“Interruption	Wings	Look	for	Adaptation	Branches”;	“Consent	Culture	and	Dialogical	Skill	Set”;	and	“Reminding	Us	to	Be	Our	Own	Guest	Within	Hospitality.”	Those	themes	are	better	seen	and	perceived	not	as	separated	entities	but	more	as	interconnected	pathways	in	the	same	community.	In	each	of	them,	the	notion	of	democracy	with	choices,	conflicts,	adaptations,	interruptions,	and	encounters	arise.	In	this	context,	the	awareness	of	the	roles	and	needs	of	the	individual	and	the	collective	within	the	school	community	creates	the	environment	that	may	enable	dialogue.	For	all	this	to	happen,	the	artistic	socially	engaged	collaboration	must	come	to	assist,	interrupt,	and	ask	for	an	ongoing	adaptation	and	improvisation	in	order	to	explore	possibilities,	meet	limits	and	limitations,	and	establish	forms	that	enable	dialogue.	While	we	exist	together,	the	whatever	culture	and	radical	hospitality	offer	possibilities	for	dialogue	to	happen.		Radical	Hospitality	in	the	Eyes	of	Democracy		As	Derrida	(2000)	suggests	and	democracy	offers	(as	discussed	in	this	thesis),	there	is	a	parallel	between	hospitality	and	the	openness	for	interruptions,	that	is,	the	interruption	of	the	self.	The	interruption	calls	us	in	by	inviting	us	to	engage,	to	be	in	the	moment	and	in	the	world,	away	from	the	withdrawal	that	Biesta	(2015b)	refers	to.	As	one	of	the	participants	in	the	study,	Andre,	mentioned	earlier	(see	Chapter	3),	a	democratic	school	is	“a	community	of	people	who	bump	up	against	each	other	and	figure	it	out.”	Bumping	against	each	other	is	an	essential	principle	of	democracy,	governed	by	rules	by	the	people	for	the	people.	The	protection	and	promotion	of	people’s	rights	and	needs	in	democratic	culture	require	community	members	to	participate	and	have	a	voice.	Those	interruptions	arrive	as	an	awakening	of	the	self	for	the	guest,	that	is,	the	other,	who	wishes	to	be	welcomed,	as	Derrida	(2000)	suggests;	as	an	opportunity	to	begin	again,	as	Arendt	(1958)	offers	with	her	notion	of	the	encounter;	as	the	engagement	in	the	world,	as	Biesta	(2015b)	offers	with	his	notion	of	staying	within	the	tension	between	destroying	the	world	or	withdrawing	from	the	world;	as	the	I–Thou,	as	Buber	(1996)	offers	with	his	notion	of	being	engaged	in	the	moment	without	judgment	and	interest	to	gain	or	receive	something		 164	in	return;	and	as	being	aware	of	otherness,	that	is,	who	is	not	losing	one’s	chair;	as	Ahmed	(2012)	offers	with	her	notion	of	being	stopped.		The	understandings	that	surface	with	all	these	notions,	in	the	context	of	interruptions	and	radical	hospitality,	connect	different	themes	that	emerged	throughout	this	thesis,	as	the	need	for	ongoing	adaptations	and	improvisations	while	individual	and	collective	choices	are	valued.	That	is	where	art	joins	in	with	its	imaginative	sources	that	create	opportunities	to	be	surprised,	offering	adaptations	followed	by	mistakes.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	pay	attention	to	the	need	for	the	arts	to	assist	in	democratic	education,	in	supporting	a	democratic	way,	while	being	an	alternative	for	a	mainstream	education	system	that	often	solely	assesses	student	knowledge	through	standardized	tests.	As	Pinar	(2011)	elaborates:	Cramming	for	tests,	especially	the	standardized	kind	split	off	from	daily	classroom	conversation,	deforms	schools,	as	it	ends	complicated	conversation	and	open-ended	study,	replacing	democracy	with	autocracy.	Rather	than	paramilitary	schools,	democracy	requires	aesthetic	education.	Understanding	art	(whether	as	performance	or	object)	as	event	and	as	simultaneously	continuous	and	disjunctive	with	everyday	experience,	Maxine	Greene	envisions	aesthetic	education	as	engendering	subjective	and	social	reconstruction.	(p.	95)	Art	as	an	Interruption—Laying	the	Groundwork	for	Dialogue	Being	engaged,	in	artistic	terms,	means	to	experience,	to	do,	to	be	where	the	rational	takes	a	rest	while	the	imaginative	invites	the	dialectic	exploration	of	what	is	and	calls	us	to	engage,	adapt,	and	improvise	with	the	world.	As	Biesta	(2018)	suggests:	And	what	I	tend	to	see	there	is	that	art	is	precisely	this	ongoing,	literally	never-ending	exploration	of	the	encounter	with	what	and	who	is	other,	the	ongoing	and	never-ending	exploration	of	what	it	might	mean	to	exist	in	and	with	the	world.	(p.	17)	Biesta	(2018)	claims	that	art	offers	an	ongoing	and	never-ending	exploration,	that	is,	an	invitation	to	encounter	resistance	in	the	making.	The	art	making	creates	interruptions,		 165	while	one	encounters	materials,	ideas,	and	others,	which	are	more	important	than	the	final	product	of	the	art	making.	Biesta	(2018)	continues:		Encountering	the	reality	of	paint,	stone,	wood,	metal,	sound,	bodies,	including	one’s	own	body,	encountering	resistance,	in	order	to	explore	possibilities,	meet	limits	and	limitations,	and	out	of	this	create	forms,	establish	forms	and	find	forms	that	make	existing-in-dialogue	possible,	that	is	what	I	see	in	the	‘doing’	of	art.	(p.	17)	Bringing	Biesta’s	(2018)	suggestions	back	to	the	context	of	Windsor	House,	in	terms	of	creating,	establishing,	and	finding	forms	to	exist	in	dialogue,	students	and	staff	have	daily	opportunities	to	encounter	and	be	interrupted	by	and	with	visual	arts,	performing	arts,	and	literature.	Offering	those	artistic	forms,	the	Windsor	House	School	and	community	makes	dialogue	possible.	While	artistic	encounters	are	available	for	everyone	on	a	daily	basis,	in	relation	to	the	whatever	culture,	that	is	also	where	radical	hospitality	could	exist.	Community	members’	lived	experiences	help	in	forming	as	well	as	being	formed	by	radical	hospitality.	The	arts,	by	their	very	nature,	lay	the	groundwork	for	dialogue	by	inviting	and	embracing	interruptions,	in	addition	to	many	other	aspects	the	arts	may	offer.		In	the	process	of	creating	a	platform	for	dialogue	to	exist,	it	is	important	to	be	aware	of	the	individual	and	collective	thoughts	in	the	context	of	dialogue.	Personal	reflection	about	radical	interruption	and	radical	hospitality	are	also	critical.	In	my	personal	a/r/tographic	inquiry,	I	realized	that	I	arrived	to	this	study	thinking	that	I	was	going	to	share	with	Windsor	House	staff	what	hospitality	is	all	about.	I	deconstructed	this	assumption	early	in	the	process	of	the	study	without	knowing	where	it	would	take	my	understanding.	I	realized	how	important	it	was	to	let	go	and	stay	open	for	new	understanding	to	form.	This	motivation	was	put	into	question,	which	made	the	study	more	interesting	and	open	ended.	I	kept	my	process	known	with	all	participants	in	the	study,	and	I	was	aware	it	might	shape	our	interactions.	Thus,	it	was	only	later	that	my	lesson	arrived,	after	I	had	already	been	a	part	of	the	Windsor	House	community	for	a	while.	The	lived	experience	within	Windsor	House	community	welcomed	me	to	be	a	guest	and	witness	radical	hospitality.	At	Windsor	House,	hospitality	does	not	always	arrive	in	the	shape	of	a	cake	and	a	cup	of	mint	tea,	as	it	had	been	for	me	in	my	Memeh’s	home.	I	find	Windsor		 166	House’s	radical	hospitality	is	more	similar	to	my	experience	of	a	family,	with	radical	hospitality	being	less	visible	yet	deeply	felt.	It	is	an	invitation	to	be	whatever	one	desires	at	any	given	moment	without	the	fear	of	being	judged.	Radical	hospitality	in	the	Windsor	House	community	means	a	holding	space,	for	it	is	as	inclusive	as	possible.		It	is	not	an	easy	task	to	distinguish	between	hospitality	and	radical	hospitality.	However,	in	trying	to	explain	my	understanding	of	the	differences	between	those	two	terms,	I	suggest	the	following.	If	hospitality	deals	with	being	welcome	and	welcoming	by	being	prepared,	then	radical	hospitality	deals	with	acceptance	and	being	open	to	interruption	and	challenges,	which	may	cause	adaptations	at	the	moment.		Although,	on	one	hand,	radical	hospitality	may	be	perceived	only	as	a	positive	and	a	welcoming	culture,	on	the	other	hand	it	also	invites	the	host	to	be	stopped	and	be	interrupted	and	challenged.	These	stops	or	interruptions	have	different	appearances	and	at	times	their	offerings	are	hard	to	perceive.	While	writing	this	thesis,	I	found	I	was	interrupted	often.	The	interruptions	allowed	and	sometimes	pushed	me	to	shift	my	thinking	and	my	lived	experience.	Those	interruptions	could	be	perceived	as	undesirable	pauses,	or	occasionally	as	a	gift.	Being	stopped	may	invite	people,	with	their	permission,	to	re-think	and	may	assist	individuals	to	open	closed	doors	within	them.	For	instance,	in	July	2016,	I	was	stopped—and	I	did	not	pass.	I	was	asked	to	open	one	of	these	closed	doors	in	my	heart	after	I	found	a	swastika	on	the	post	in	the	underground	lot	next	to	my	assigned	parking	spot.	That	night	I	wrote,	with	the	assistance	of	neighbours,	to	my	whole	co-op	community	in	a	letter	that	was	in	a	third	person:	There	is	a	Jewish	family	who	were	shocked	to	be	targeted	by	this	hateful	symbol	in	their	home.	It	was	the	first	time	they	have	ever	felt	out	of	place	in	Vancouver,	a	community	that	has	always	been	welcoming.	The	swastika	is	a	symbol	of	violence,	hate,	and	cruelty	that	has	no	place	in	our	community.	What	is	our	responsibility	in	the	face	of	this	attack?	The	family	has	opened	a	file	with	the	police.	However,	instead	of	starting	an	investigation,	they	are	looking	for	ways	to	start	a	dialogue	and	heal	from	this	hate	crime.	We	are	a	diverse	community	that	will	always	be	stronger	as	a	result	of	our	differences.	Now	is	our	opportunity	to	step	up	and	clearly	state	that	as	a		 167	community	we	will	not	stand	for	this	kind	of	hateful	assault	on	one	of	our	own	families.	We	plan	to	hold	a	community	gathering	to	talk	about	what	has	happened	and	share	our	feelings	and	support	each	other	in	moving	forward	as	a	community.	We	will	share	food	and	talk	together.	At	first,	this	interruption	of	encountering	a	swastika	on	the	post	did	not	feel	like	a	gift.	It	brought	to	my	consciousness	fears	that	my	individual	and	collective	thoughts	carried	from	generations	back.	It	brought	tears	that	did	not	find	rest.	However,	it	also	enabled	complicated	conversations	to	take	place	in	the	community	in	which	I	live.	This	radical	interruption	asked	us	to	encounter	each	other	in	new	ways	and	encourage	us	to	engage	in	the	world	as	Biesta	(2018)	names	it.	This	hard	moment	for	the	community	allowed	a	rebirth	of	its	principles	and	boundaries	as	well	as	invited	questioning	and	recreating	together	and	apart,	our	democratic	way	of	being	with	one	another.	Several	neighbours	created	posters	and	passed	them	around	for	whomever	wished	to	put	them	up	on	their	home	windows.	These	included	statements	such	as,	“We	believe	in	inclusiveness,	community,	equality.”	One	day	after	the	letter	was	sent,	many	windows	around	the	co-op	were	filled	with	these	posters.	I	found	it	uplifting	and	hopeful.	At	the	same	time,	many	of	us	experienced	disappointment	and	discouragement	deep	inside	that	this	had	happened	in	our	co-op.	It	is	important	to	be	reminded	that	this	opportunity	to	connect	and	engage	with	the	particular	enabled	me	to	realize	the	power	of	whatever	culture	in	a	democratic	setting.	This	particular	radical	interruption,	that	is,	the	swastika,	invited	an	understanding	that	even	in	the	whatever	culture,	when	we	think	it	may	be	about	complete	acceptance,	there	is	still	a	need	for	protection	of	democratic	principles.	Such	protection	might	prevent	events	such	as	the	swastika	being	posted	and	bring	to	attention	the	fact	that	one’s	rights	end	at	the	point	where	they	harm	someone	else.	This	understanding	of	the	context	needed	for	the	whatever	culture	to	exist,	allowed	radical	hospitality	to	assist	us.	Embracing	radical	hospitality	within	the	whatever	culture	brings	with	it	the	notion	of	the	other	into	our	awareness.	Once	the	whatever	culture,	in	which	puts	the	individual	first,	embraces	radical	hospitality,	it	may	enable	all	to	experience	social	democracy.	Pinar	(2011)	explained:		On	occasions	playful	and	on	others	utterly	serious,	such	complicated	conversation	enables	students	to	experience	social	democracy,	mocked	by	politicians	who	are		 168	polarized	by	ideology.	Social	democracy	is	not	personal	posturing	or	groupthink	but,	rather,	the	engagement	of	others	in	deciphering	the	intersubjective	reality	in	which	all	are	embedded	and	participating,	even	when	they	are	withdrawn.	(p.	14)	The	whatever	culture	leads	to	artistic	interruptions	as	opposed	to	harmful	ones.		Although	the	whatever	culture	may	be	perceived	as	one	lacking	in	boundaries,	it	clearly	functions	in	a	democratic	structure.	This	experience	in	the	co-op	brought	many	neighbours	to	exist	in	and	with	the	world.	Thus,	the	question	that	remains	open	is,	what	could	nurture	this	ongoing	exploration	of	existences	in	the	world	without	experiencing	harmful	aspects	such	as	the	example	of	the	swastika’s	interruption?	Radical	Hospitality	Meets	Dialogue		To	understand	what	dialogue	means,	we	must	recognize	the	distinction	between	radical	hospitality	and	dialogue.	Radical	hospitality,	in	its	strictest	sense,	means	acceptance,	whereas	dialogue,	as	this	thesis	presents,	means	being	the	guest	within	radical	hospitality.	I	suggest	that	claiming	acceptance	without	practising	it	regularly,	as	dialogue	permits,	would	not	be	experienced	as	radical	as	it	could	be.	Experiencing	dialogue,	as	discussed	in	Chapter	1,	may	offer	an	opportunity	to	explore	with	and	encounter	others’	perspectives	and	ideas,	while	being	aware	of	the	self	within	the	dialogue	challenge	(Biesta,	2006).	I	return	now	to	Buber’s	(1996)	work	in	which	he	claims	that	in	the	mode	of	I–It	there	is	an	internal	and	an	external	component	in	which	one	gathers	data,	analyzes,	classifies,	and	theorizes,	that	brings	subject	and	the	other	as	object—this	calls	into	question	dialogue,	with	its	limited	ability	to	exist.	Therefore,	this	study	offers	the	assistance	needed	with	radical	hospitality	to	support	Buber’s	concern.	Bakhtin’s	(1986)	work	aligns	with	this	thesis	as	his	understanding	of	dialogue	represents	the	in-between	rather	than	ownership,	presenting	dialogue	as	a	relational	act.		I	now	move	from	the	relational	to	plurality.	As	Arendt	(1958)	offers,	plurality	is	a	condition	for	action	to	happen	as	well	for	democracy,	which	allows	the	exploration	of	existential	foundations.	Thus,	I	suggest	that	the	search	for	pluralism	is	necessary	in	our	era	in	which	we	must	face	the	‘other’	in	terms	of	emigration,	immigration,	and	refugee.	As		 169	Esteva,	Babones,	and	Babcicky	(2013)	state,	“Instead	of	radically	denying	the	‘other’,	as	has	been	done	under	the	flags	of	civilization,	colonialism,	evangelization,	industrialization,	modernization,	democratization,	and	development,	the	world	must	open	to	a	new,	radical	pluralism”	(p.	149).	Now,	in	retrospect,	I	realize	this	study	also	offers	the	understanding	that,	in	order	for	dialogue	to	exist,	people	may	need	to	complete	the	necessary	groundwork	that	creates	the	space	for	it	to	exist.	This	groundwork	includes	the	arts	as	well	as	the	awareness	of	individual	and	collective	thoughts.	This	study	also	shows	that	democracy	and	radical	hospitality	are	always	in	the	making,	never	finished	or	completed.	Here	I	refer	to	the	groundwork	for	practising	radical	hospitality,	that	is,	unconditional	acceptance	and	listening	that	requires	holding	space	for	people	to	be	who	they	are	or	wish	to	be	without	judgment.	The	following	question	remains	unanswered:	Is	it	possible	to	suspend	judgment,	or	is	it	more	about	noting	our	judgments	and	engaging	anyway?	This	is	the	notion	of	democracy	that	Bickford	(1996)	refers	to	when	she	describes	staying	in	the	space	of	listening	and	having	differences.		This	study	also	offers	a	unique	addition	to	existing	literature	in	democratic	education:	radical	hospitality	is	essential	to	a	dialogical	relationship	between	the	host	and	others.	This	contribution	to	the	literature	is	important	for	developing	an	understanding	of	dialogue	as	a	separate	entity	unto	itself.	However,	be	aware	that	it	is	not	truly	a	separate	entity	since	dialogue	and	radical	hospitality	are	interrelated.	Dialogue	is	an	organic	growth	within	radical	hospitality.	The	following	piece,	which	I	wrote	in	December	2018,	relates	to	this	discussion:	Radical	hospitality	starts	from	within	it	invites	us	to	surrender	or	embrace	our	fears,	while	encounters	and	emotions	arise		encounters	and	emotions	from	inside	out.	Radical	hospitality	comes	with	consent	and	the	courage	to	say	no	when	yes	for	hosting	radically	is	not	available	for	us	and	receiving	a	thank	you	for	taking	care	of	your	self.		Radical	hospitality	allows	authentic	being	to	begin	again		 170	to	witness	others	and	invite	them	into	the	flow	as	dry	leaves	flow	on	the	ground	amidst	a	windy	day.			 171	Chapter	7:	The	End	of	the	Beginning				Figure	8.	Interruptions.	Photo	by	Ofira	Roll.			“This	is	not	because	the	emancipatory	teacher	lacks	knowledge,	but	because	knowledge	is	not	the	‘way’	of	emancipation.”	(Biesta,	2017,	p.	66)			 		 172	A	playful	picnic	table	arrived	with	its	special	spirit.	Inviting,	hosting,	playing,	and	sharing	our	becoming.	Encountering	our	shields	of	fear	from	being	together.	Asking	us	to	see	ourselves	in	one	another.	Asking	us	to	join.	A	playful	picnic	table	arrived	with	its	questions	for	this	community.	Assisting	us,	them,	you,	and	me	in	being	together.	Welcoming	the	unknown	of	immersing	in	a	collective.	Children’s	handprints	are	here	to	remind	us	who	we	are.	A	rainbow	piano	reminds	us	to	imagine	and	fly	with	its	offering.	A	playful	picnic	table	arrived	with	its	gifts.	Asking	us	to	free	our	hearts	and	minds.	Around	the	table,	individuals’	needs	call	for	challenging	dialogue.	Take	a	seat	and	take	your	time	to	join	in.	A	playful	picnic	table	arrived,	asking	each	of	us,		“What	do	you	want	to	BE	in	this	community?”	As	mentioned	in	Chapter	3	regarding	the	choice	of	responsibilities	and	roles	of	participants	in	Windsor	House,	the	poem	that	opens	this	chapter	has	a	similar	sense	of	agency.	I	wrote	this	poem	in	the	summer	of	2017	as	an	invitation	to	the	community	I	live	in,	as	an	artistic	overture	that	calls	for	us	to	encounter	the	world.	For	the	readers	of	this	thesis,	it	may	also	be	an	invitation	to	reflect	upon	creating	understanding	among	its	members’	and	their	roles.	I	suggest	here	that	the	creation	of	a	community	invites	a	reclaiming	of	members’	purpose	and	responsibility	as	an	interruption	within	the	self	and	community,	while	dialogue	plays	a	dominant	role	within	the	community.	As	such,	dialogue	can	be	viewed	as	a	call	for	recognition	within	a	community	for	having	monologue	alongside	dialogue.	Being	part	of	a	community	requires	intra-relational	as	well	as,	inter-relational	work.	Revisiting	this	text	and	its	meaning	a	year	after	the	study	was	undertaken,	following	a	personal	inquiry	of	what	radical	hospitality	means	and	asks	from	one	within	a	community,	I	realized	that	the	crucial	work	in	the	context	of	radical	hospitality	is	within	oneself.	In	this	distinction	between	the	self	and	other,	in	which	self	exists	separately	from	the	social,	Buber	(1996)	clarifies	the	transition	from	the	mode	of	encounter,	I-Thou,	to	the	mode	of		 173	experience,	I-It.	The	I-Thou	mode	offers	a	relational	experience.	Thus,	Buber’s	(1996)	understanding	may	encourage	one	to	reconsider	the	self-other	perspective	into	a	third	in-between	mode,	I-It-Thou.	Applying	this	in-between	mode,	the	work	within	oneself	in	the	context	of	radical	hospitality	may	coexist	with	relational	existences,	that	is	the	I-Thou	mode.	Buber	offers	a	more	dichotomic	perspective,	while	reality	offers	many	shades	of	grey	in	between	the	black	and	white.	Thus,	the	third	mode	I	present	here	may	create	space	for	the	shades	of	grey.			Briefly	put,	my	argument	runs	as	follows:	the	important	guest	in	practising	radical	hospitality	is	the	host.	As	Biesta	(2017)	writes,	To	exist	in	a	grown-up	way	is	therefore	not	something	that	we	can	claim	to	have	achieved	at	a	certain	age	or	stage	in	life	or	after	a	certain	amount	of	learning.	It	rather	describes	a	way	of	being,	a	“quality”	of	existing,	where	we	are	not	subjected	to	our	desires	–	we	might	also	say:	where	we	are	not	just	an	object	of	our	desires	–	but	where	we	are	a	subject	in	relation	to	our	desires.	The	key	educational	question,	therefore,	is	whether	what	I	desire	is	what	I	should	desire,	whether	it	is	desirable	for	my	own	life,	my	life	with	others,	on	a	planet	that	only	has	limited	capacity	for	fulfilling	our	desires.	(pp.	17–18)		Reflecting	on	this	aspect	of	democratic	education	places	attention	and	care	on	people	both	individually	and	collectively.	The	question	of	whether	what	I	desire	is	what	I	should	desire	is	explored	in	democratic	education	in	terms	of	choices	of	activities	and	courses,	decision-making	and	processes,	proposals	in	the	school	council,	through	innovations	in	the	school	and	in	the	community,	and	so	on.		To	bring	this	thesis	story	to	a	close	and	to	allow	a	new	beginning	to	follow,	this	chapter	invites	the	reader	to	receive	a	holistic	understanding	of	this	study.	I	return	to	some	theories	and	practices	that	I	have	mentioned	throughout	the	thesis	to	be	considered	as	foundational	in	understanding	democratic	education	as	dialogue,	as	radical	hospitality,	as	an	artistic	social	engaged	collaboration,	and	as	the	notions	of	staying	open	to	interruptions	and	creating	creative	adaptations	accordingly.	The	foundational	principles	I	listed	above,	which	are	lived	experiences	within	democratic	education,	used	to	be	known	more	in	the		 174	educational	practices	of	different	cultures.	However,	in	recent	years,	less	creative	and	more	rigid	foundations	of	educational	settings	have	replaced	those	principles,	such	as	staying	open	to	interruptions	and	creating	creative	adaptation	accordingly.	As	Adams	and	Owens	(2016)	state:	Ideals	that	were	at	the	foundation	of	the	welfare	states	in	Western	nations,	for	which	creative,	imaginative	expressions	through	the	arts	were	once	considered	to	be	as	essential	and	as	basic	as	our	more	modern	educational	obsessions	with	entrepreneurial,	technocratic	knowledge	and	competition.	(p.	135)	Also,	in	this	chapter,	one	could	find	possible	implications	of	this	study,	which	may	be	valuable	for	educators	in	democratic	education	as	well	as	mainstream	education.	To	return	to	these	concepts,	notions,	and	implications	in	a	closing	manner	but	not	in	a	concluding	one,	it	is	important	to	mention	that	all	notions,	inquiries,	and	views	represented	throughout	this	thesis	are	meant	to	spark	conversation	and	the	imagination,	not	to	be	claimed	as	truths.	These	would	be	served	in	three	parts	of	the	meal,	just	as	meals	were	served	in	my	grandmother	Memeh’s	home:	first	Salatim,	second	Seh-oo-da,	and	last	Teh.		Salatim,	Seh-oo-da,	Teh,	and	Democratic	Education	From	the	perspective	of	artistic,	socially	engaged	collaboration	that	took	place	in	this	study	in	the	form	of	cooking	and	feasting	together,	this	metaphor	of	a	meal	can	be	seen	as	an	opportunity	to	join	in,	an	opportunity	to	relate	to	the	experience	participants	went	through	while	taking	part	in	this	study	with	food	and	creating	meaning.		Salatim.	First	is	the	salatim,	which	are	dips	and	salads.	The	salatim	are	served	on	the	table,	which	requires	a	plate	and	a	seat.	Salatim	are	an	invitation	to	join	the	table	and	start	the	dialectic	feast	without	further	ado.	Salatim	serves	here	as	a	metaphor	for	radical	hospitality	experience.	Placing	salatim	on	the	table	means	that	everyone	is	welcome	to	take	a	seat,	without	asking	for	permission.	Salatim	hold	the	meal	together,	just	as	radical	hospitality	holds	the	space	for	everyone	to	be	accepted	and	welcomed.	However,	with	time	being	limited	in	the	age	of	accountability,	productivity,	and	the	desire	to	meet	the	curriculum	requirements	marathon,	extracurricular	activities	are	salatim—radical		 175	hospitality	may	be	perceived	as	a	useless	part	of	the	meal,	calling	for	too	much	time	without	clear	results.	Thus,	salatim	are	often	the	first	experiences	to	be	cut	from	an	education	experience.	Radical	hospitality,	like	salatim,	is	not	offered	as	a	main	dish,	but	rather	as	an	overall	experience	while	encountering	open-ended	conversation,	activity,	arts,	and	play.	They	are	all	there,	all	the	time—offered	as	the	salatim	on	the	table.	As	Memeh,	my	grandmother,	would	claim,	a	seh-oo-da	(i.e.,	the	feast)	without	the	salatim	is	not	a	seh-oo-da—one	needs	the	creative,	the	imaginative,	the	salatim	to	nibble	on,	while	taking	a	pause	from	the	main	dish,	which	is	the	main	content	that	is	offered	(i.e.,	the	curriculum).	Salatim	preparation	requires	much	time	and	effort,	which	is	not	always	available.	Like	salatim,	radical	hospitality,	even	if	it	is	not	named	as	such,	requires	open-ended	curriculum	with	unclaimed	time	to	exist.	Salatim	creates	a	sense	of	connection	that	welcomes	everybody	in	(i.e.,	the	radical	hospitality).	Salatim	are	the	glue	that	connects	all	of	the	courses	into	a	meal	(i.e.,	the	seh-oo-da).	It	is	as	if	to	say	the	salatim	are	the	flavours	that	blend	all	into	one.	Salatim	always	remain	on	the	table	to	make	everyone	feel	included	and	welcome,	and	the	same	is	true	of	radical	hospitality.	Along	these	lines,	radical	hospitality	at	Windsor	House	may	appear	to	be	less	open	at	first	sight.	Only	after	inquiring	into	important	questions,	such	as,	what	does	radical	hospitality	mean	and	offer?	In	what	ways	could	radical	hospitality	host	dialogical	space?	Who	is	radical	in	it?	What	makes	it	radical	and	for	whom?	What	does	it	mean	to	host	radically?	For	what	reason	would	one	want	to	do	so—does	the	radical	hospitality	at	Windsor	House	appear	with	its	qualities	of	acceptance?	The	process	of	creating	the	feel	of	radical	hospitality	at	Windsor	House	requires	that	people	build	long-term	relationships	within	the	community	and	among	educators,	students,	and	caregivers.	These	relationships	are	experienced	and	exist	beyond	a	specific	class	or	a	year.	The	feel	of	radical	hospitality	at	Windsor	House	is	also	offered	in	a	more	subtle	fashion	with	an	overall	experience	while	encountering	open-ended	conversations,	activities,	arts,	and	plays	at	any	given	time	and	place	if	needed	or	desired.	This	hidden	but	known	process	holds	many	different	truths	that	may	be	changed	in	any	given	moment.	There	is	an	ongoing	expectation	to	adapt	and	to	listen	to	students’	current	needs	and	voices.		 176	Therefore,	since	one	of	the	essential	principles	of	this	thesis	is	radical	hospitality	as	a	lived	experience	of	radical	acceptance,	with	ongoing	unexpected	interruptions	that	lead	to	creative	adaptations,	I	argue	that	these	are	at	the	core	of	this	education.	The	reason	for	this	claim	is	that	democratic	education	has	persisted	against	all	the	odds	to	stay	progressive,	attentive,	open,	and	inclusive	in	this	era.	Following	this	study,	it	is	important	to	remember	that	radical	hospitality	means	more	than	providing	the	space,	the	food,	and	gathering	the	people,	and	hosting	the	event.	Radical	hospitality	brings	the	desire	for	relational	being,	practicing	acceptances,	and	providing	the	opportunity	to	share	experiential	and	nutritional	offerings.	Despite	the	fact	that	radical	hospitality	may	be	perceived	as	being	positive	and	comfortable	for	all,	this	way	of	being	actually	allows	people	to	experience	discomfort,	ambiguity,	open-ended	situations,	and	interruption,	which	is	thanks	to	the	full	acceptance.	Another	way	to	explain	it	is,	once	individuals	feel	fully	accepted	and	loved,	they	can	encounter	new	experiences	within	the	world	with	less	fear	and	questioning,	if	any.	Thus,	after	having	experienced	radical	hospitality,	students	are	more	open	to	trying	new	things,	being	innovative	without	being	sure	it	will	work,	and	being	engaged	in	arts	and	play,	all	of	which	offer	constant	unexpected	interruptions.		Seh-oo-da.	Second	is	the	seh-oo-da,	which	is	a	meal	that	includes	all	the	courses	and	dishes,	served	all	at	once.	Seh-oo-da,	as	I	experienced	it	in	my	grandmother	Memeh’s	home,	as	well	as	at	Windsor	House,	has	a	sensation	of	a	carnival	(Bakhtin,	1965).	The	term	carnival	calls	social	structures	and	a	specific	order	or	politeness	into	a	question,	whereas	the	seh-oo-da	offers	the	implications	of	radical	hospitality	in	practice.	Here	there	is	an	important	difference	to	pay	attention	to	while	checking	the	notion	of	seh-oo-da	in	mainstream	education.	One	may	think	that	the	parallel	of	seh-oo-da	in	school	environment	is	the	main	curriculum	(i.e.,	the	main	dishes).	However,	I	suggest	that	there	is	no	difference	in	the	curriculum	between	the	two;	rather,	the	difference	lies	in	people’s	lived	experiences.	Given	the	complexity,	allow	me	to	explain	in	what	ways	these	differ.	Were	seh-oo-da	to	be	viewed	as	the	main	curriculum	then	these	two	streams	of	education	would	be	the	same.	Although	the	curriculum	may	be	perceived	as	a	different	one	in	practice,	Windsor	House	uses	the	same	curriculum	as	mainstream	education.	However,	its	lived	experience	is	dramatically	different.	The	seh-oo-da	(i.e.,	the	meal)	in	mainstream		 177	education	is	usually	fixed	with	main	dishes	(i.e.,	courses,	instruction,	and	structured	timeframes).	This	provides	a	clear	beginning	and	ending.	There	are	those	who	counter	this	mainstream	education	approach	by	choosing	to	resist	mainstream	thought	and	by	offering	an	alternative.	As	Illich	(1970)	notes:	In	fact,	learning	is	the	human	activity	which	least	needs	manipulation	by	others.	Most	learning	is	not	the	result	of	instruction.	It	is	rather	the	result	of	unhampered	participation	in	a	meaningful	setting.	Most	people	learn	best	by	being	“with	it,”	yet	school	makes	them	identify	their	personal,	cognitive	growth	with	elaborate	planning	and	manipulation.	(p.	39)	Illich	(1970)	stresses	that	majority	of	learning	happens	while	participating	in	a	meaningful	setting.	As	such,	in	democratic	education,	(i.e.,	Windsor	House)	the	main	dishes	are	less	fixed	and	more	open	ended.	I	came	to	understand	that	at	Windsor	House	the	main	curriculum	means	practising	acceptance	towards	each	other	and	the	self;	remaining	open	to	interruptions;	creating	adaptations	on	the	go;	practising	being	with,	listening	to,	and	assisting	of;	practising	the	consent	culture;	inviting	the	imaginative	to	daily	life	experiences	by	artistic	and	non-artistic	encounters;	and	living	the	whatever	culture.	In	the	case	of	democratic	education,	and	in	particular	at	Windsor	House,	the	curriculum	is	less	tangible	and	harder	to	measure	for	accountability	purposes.	I	find	it	interesting	that	at	the	beginning	of	the	study	I	perceived	the	artistic,	socially	engaged	collaboration	as	the	salatim;	however,	I	came	to	a	new	understanding	towards	the	end	of	the	writing	process,	which	is	that	the	collaborative	cooking	lives	partially	in	the	salatim,	in	the	seh-oo-da,	and	in	the	teh	as	well.	The	opening	quote	of	this	chapter	by	Biesta	(2017)	discusses	the	emancipation	in	democratic	education	in	general.	In	practice	at	Windsor	House,	this	means	that	emancipation	comes	from	a	sense	of	agency,	from	knowing	one’s	voice	in	the	world,	from	being	engaged	in	the	world	and	with	the	world,	from	allowing	the	imaginative	and	artistic	to	take	a	lead	by	interrupting	the	here	and	now,	from	knowing	to	embrace	interruption	and	adapt	accordingly,	from	listening	deeply	to	the	world	both	inward	and	outward,	and	from	knowing	to	pause.		 178	Therefore,	while	the	set	curriculum	of	mainstream	education	would	create	the	seh-oo-da,	in	democratic	education,	and	in	particular	at	Windsor	House,	the	set	curriculum	may	be	found	within	the	practice	of	emancipation	(i.e.,	the	meal),	as	well	as	part	of	the	Teh	(i.e.,	the	tea).	Those	essential	principles	are	not	perceived	at	Windsor	House	as	a	preparation	for	the	dialogue	that	may	or	may	not	happen	during	the	teh,	but	as	a	way	of	living	democratically.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	remember	that	even	set	curriculum,	which	may	be	perceived	as	fixed,	in	practice	it	may	have	many	ways	to	exist	with	the	influences	of	students,	educators,	and	the	school	community	in	large.		Teh.	Last	is	the	teh	(or	tea),	which	comes	after	the	seh-oo-da.	Teh	comforts	everyone	after	feasting	together	and	allows	for	openness	towards	each	other’s	voices.	The	teh	is	the	open-ended	conversation,	sometimes	on	a	topic	that	arose	during	the	seh-oo-da	(i.e.,	the	meal)	and	sometimes	on	a	planned	subject	brought	in	by	one	or	more	group	members.	In	mainstream	education,	the	teh	tends	to	happen	occasionally,	based	on	time	availability.	The	teh	is	considered	to	be	extracurricular	and	is	viewed	as	a	treat.	Whereas	at	Windsor	House,	the	teh	happens	more	frequently,	since	subjects	and	activities	are	based	on	students’	interest	and	are	conducted	with	them,	for	them,	and	at	times	by	them.	At	Windsor	House,	some	courses	have	a	set	topic	or	an	umbrella	topic,	while	other	courses	are	based	on	topics	that	arose	through	conversations	that	were	of	interest	to	students	during	the	seh-oo-da.	It	is	also	important	to	note	that	at	times	students	lead	a	course;	any	community	member	can	teach	others,	not	only	educators	or	parents.		The	teh	with	its	flow	offers	an	opportunity	to	develop	dialogical	skills	without	a	set	goal	or	conclusion	but	for	the	sake	of	exploring,	unfolding,	questioning,	and	rethinking.	The	teh	calls	people	to	be	with	each	other	in	the	here	and	now,	with	no	clear-cut	beginning	or	ending.	Through	developing	dialogical	skills	the	teh	offers	an	opportunity	to	have	complicated	conversations	with	the	assistance	of	a	set	curriculum.	This	suggests	that	the	set	curriculum	offers	students	“something	to	chew	on.”	In	practice	at	Windsor	House,	studying	may	appear	to	an	outside	observer	as	an	engaging	conversation	or	a	disorganized	or	undirected	gathering.	In	actuality,	at	Windsor	House	this	process	enables	everyone	to	experience	self-worth	and	self-determination.	It	is	for	this	reason	that	classes	at	Windsor	House	are	more	engaging	and	interesting.	Although	many	would	think	that	there	are	many		 179	complex	reasons	for	that	to	happen,	I	argue	that	it	happens	for	fairly	simple	reasons,	which	are	mainly	due	to	the	directed	efforts	during	the	seh-oo-da	part	of	the	education.	While	emancipation	in	democratic	education	comes	before	the	knowledge	per	se,	students	as	well	all	community	members,	feel	respected	and	invited	to	join	in	by	being	in	the	middle	ground,	as	Biesta	(2015b)	names	it.	Being	in	the	middle	ground	within	supported	seh-oo-da	allows	one	to	experience	resistance	without	reaching	the	moment	of	avoiding	others	and	disengaging	from	the	world;	this	also	prevents	people	from	reaching	the	extremes	of	destroying	themselves	or	others.	I	argue	that	what	makes	the	teh	possible	and	meaningful	in	democratic	education	are	the	experiences	during	the	seh-oo-da	such	as	practising	democratic	skills	in	an	ongoing	fashion;	experiencing	an	ongoing	imaginative	and	artistic	interruptions;	and	particularly	not	being	measured,	compared,	judged,	or	made	to	compete	with	one	another.	The	seh-oo-da	is	about	the	personal	growth	of	each	member	in	the	school	community.	Although	Illich’s	(1970)	words	were	written	several	decades	ago,	they	are	still	needed	in	our	time:		But	personal	growth	is	not	a	measurable	entity.	It	is	growth	in	disciplined	dissidence,	which	cannot	be	measured	against	any	rod,	or	any	curriculum,	nor	compared	to	someone	else’s	achievement.	In	such	leaning	one	can	emulate	others	only	in	imaginative	endeavour,	and	follow	in	their	footsteps	rather	than	mimic	their	gait.	The	learning	I	prize	is	immeasurable	re-creation.	(p.	40)	All	those	aspects	of	the	seh-oo-da	keep	people’s	desire	to	explore	new	ideas,	concepts,	and	understanding	widely	open.	The	topics	discussed	are	not	so	different	from	mainstream	educational	curriculum	or	from	the	methods	through	which	mainstream	education	is	delivered.	The	differences	lie	in	the	educational	experience,	which	is	based	upon	participants	being	respected	and	asking	them	to	respect	others	in	turn.	This	can	happen	in	both	democratic	education	and	mainstream	schooling.	I	suggest	that	in	mainstream	schooling	it	is	more	up	to	the	teachers	to	determine	if	their	practice	is	all	about	respect	and	dialogue	and	self-determination,	as	the	overall	school	environment	does	not	offer	this	learning	opportunity.	Similarly,	in	the	democratic	education	school	environment,		 180	the	school	holds	less	space	for	deductive,	formal,	and	standardizes	test2	but	some	teachers	do	create	space	for	it.		Thus,	the	dialogue	that	may	or	may	not	happen	during	the	teh	has	an	important	role	within	democratic	education.	In	this	way,	the	salatim	and	the	seh-oo-da	fertilize	the	ground	and	enable	the	seeds	of	dialogue	to	grow.	The	dialogue	is	the	opportunity	to	practise	it	all,	nourishing	students’	encounters	in	and	with	the	world.	The	dialogue	required	me	to	revisit	and	rethink	my	understanding	of	dialogue.	At	the	beginning	of	this	inquiry,	through	my	study	of	different	thinkers’	contributions,	I	perceived	dialogue	as	a	separate	entity	rather	than	as	an	inseparable	woven	aspect	of	life.	However,	in	the	undoing	and	openings	I	experienced	with	Windsor	House	participants,	and	through	the	process	of	reflection	and	writing	this	thesis,	I	came	to	understand	dialogue	more	as	an	irreplaceable	part	of	an	ecosystem,	in	which	each	component	depends	upon	the	others	to	exist.		To	bring	the	meal	metaphor	to	a	close,	perhaps	it	should	be	mentioned	that,	diverging	from	the	experience	of	a	meal	in	my	grandmother	Memeh’s	home,	in	democratic	education,	the	three	parts	of	the	meal	may	not	be	served	on	the	same	day	or	in	a	specific	order.	There	are	days	when	one	or	two	parts	of	the	meal	require	people’s	attention	more	than	the	others,	and	at	Windsor	House	those	would	receive	the	time	and	space	they	need.	The	salatim	are	there	all	the	time,	alternating	between	being	hidden	and	known.	The	seh-oo-da	and	the	teh	at	times,	and	in	a	supportive	way,	require	different	amounts	of	attention.		How	Can	Democratic	Education	be	Done	and	What	is	Next?	Democratic	education	appears	to	be	in	opposition	to	a	prescribed	curriculum.	However,	as	presented	throughout	the	thesis,	that	is	not	the	case.	This	study	dealt	with	meaning	of	the	lived	curriculum	at	Windsor	House.	To	understand	democratic	education,	it																																																									2	Although	Windsor	House	offers	a	school	environment	that	is	free	from	a	structure	of	qualifications	and	assessments,	students	always	have	the	option	participate	in	tests	if	they	wish.	As	expected,	based	on	Windsor	House	community	principles,	such	as	the	self-determination	and	the	profound	respect,	children	are	welcome	to	co-create	their	own	goals	with	their	mentors	and	parent/guardians	every	few	months.	Their	goals	may	include	tests,	grades,	and	online	portfolios.	It	is	a	choice	that	children	tend	to	make	in	their	teens,	while	considering	life	goals	such	as	higher	education	and	jobs.	This	path	of	assessment	is	not	encouraged	at	Windsor	House	but	allowed	and	supported	like	any	other	choice.			 181	is	important	to	study	the	lived	experience	of	the	school,	which	is	beyond	written	purposes	and	values.	It	is	not	to	say	that	study	of	mainstream	education	should	require	such	care.	However,	while	in	democratic	education	the	lived	experience	is	more	in	flux	(i.e.,	in	a	state	of	constant	change),	in	mainstream	education	there	are	more	agreed-upon	routines,	responsibilities,	and	frameworks	to	work	with	and	within.	That	being	said,	as	in	any	system	of	humans,	mainstream	education	also	involves	the	lived	experience	and	requires	attention	and	careful	listening.	In	this	sense,	it	is	also	important	to	note	that	the	meaning	that	the	learning	community	collectively	creates	and	explores	is	not	fixed	and	keeps	changing	in	relation	to	the	needs	of	the	students,	educators,	and	the	community.	Those	adaptations	are	an	integral	component	of	Windsor	House	as	well	as	democratic	education.	Thus,	the	heart	of	this	study	captured	in	the	title	of	this	chapter,	“The	End	of	the	Beginning.”	By	claiming	this	I	mean	that	in	any	future	and	further	work	with	democratic	education,	and	particularly	at	Windsor	House,	I	suggest	that	all	inquiries	be	based	on	the	notion	of	the	end	of	the	beginning,	if	you	will.	The	end	of	the	beginning	carries	with	it	the	notion	that	there	is	no	truth	to	search	for;	rather,	we	must	try	to	disassemble,	adapt,	and	relearn	our	understanding	of	democratic	education,	as	it	is	complex	and	simple	at	the	same	time.	As	Bronwen	suggests	(personal	communication,	February	2,	2019):		Our	demographic	was	already	changing,	as	it	seems	to	me	that	we	were	struggling	to	find	an	effective	way	to	engage	and	collaborate	with	enough	older	students	to	create	programming	that	they	could	feel	confident	in	and	eager	to	engage	with,	with	a	balance	of	ease,	cohesiveness	and	challenge	that	could	be	sustainable	and	inspiring.…	The	world	is	changing	quickly	for	them,	and	I	think	it	is	a	reflection	of	our	adaptability	that	we	can	change	and	transition	in	ways	that	a	larger	and	more	conventional	school	isn’t	able	to	do.	Not	everything	we	try	will	work	or	succeed,	but	it	is	a	huge	gift	that	we	have	had	this	experience	to	learn	and	grow	from	and	add	to	our	body	of	knowledge	through	loved	experience.	Not	to	mention	the	resilience	it	demonstrated	and	brought	out	in	our	community,	as	we	not	only	survived,	but	have	managed	to	be	a	school	of	choice	for	about	the	same	number	of,	if	different,	people.		 182	Democratic	education	is	about	being	engaged	in	the	world	as	an	individual	as	well	as	part	of	a	collective.	It	is	a	respectful	environment	for	people	to	grow	in;	it	allows	people	to	express	their	needs	and	desires,	achieve	self-determined	goals,	and	be	open	to	ongoing	adaptations.	Above	all,	democratic	education	allows	people	to	question	truths,	create	meaning,	and	explore	for	the	sake	of	exploration,	not	with	a	specific	end	result	in	mind.	A	member	of	the	IDEC	community,	Marko	Koskinen	(personal	communication,	February	6,	2018),	recently	wrote	the	following:	Democratic	Education	is	a	form	of	education,	which	respects	individual	freedoms	and	human	rights,	helping	the	community	members	to	learn	hands-on	democracy	by	allowing	each	community	member,	regardless	of	age,	to	participate	in	the	governance	of	the	community.	In	DE	[democratic	education]	learning	is	usually	based	strongly	on	intrinsic	motivation	and	self-directed	education.	The	community	is	there	to	support	and	to	inspire,	but	not	to	motivate	or	coerce	the	learning	process	of	the	community	members.	In	short,	it	is	the	French	Revolution	version	of	education,	"Liberté,	égalité,	fraternité,"	freedom,	equality	and	fraternity	(brotherhood).	I	now	continue	with	the	discussion	of	the	future	potential	of	students.	In	practice,	in	mainstream	education	there	is	tendency	toward	controlling	the	present	in	the	name	of	accountability	for	future	outcomes	and	results.	Thus,	it	is	important	to	ask	questions	that	deal	with	meaning	rather	than	those	that	deal	with	producing.	As	Biesta	(2018)	asserts,	“Rather	than	asking	what	education	produces,	we	should	be	asking	what	education	means.	And	rather	than	asking	what	education	makes,	we	should	be	asking	what	education	makes	possible”	(p.	13).	Returning	to	the	future	of	democratic	education,	I	suggest	that	community	members	strive	to	reflect	people’s	dreams	and	desire	to	exist.	The	arts	can	assist	in	this	endeavour.	Biesta	(2018)	continues:		Art	makes	our	desires	visible,	gives	them	form,	and	by	trying	to	come	into	dialogue	with	what	or	who	offers	resistance,	we	are	at	the	very	same	time	engaged	in	the	exploration	of	the	desirability	of	our	desires	and	in	their	rearrangement	and	transformation.	(p.	18)			 183	Be	it	and	Live	it	In	my	personal	encounters	through	the	years	at	Windsor	House	I	grew	to	believe	that	at	this	school	students	are	not	lectured	to	dream	big	but	encouraged	to	be	it	and	live	it,	and	this	manifests	differently	for	each	individual	at	the	school.	The	seed	of	this	understanding	was	planted	for	me	(and	for	others)	several	years	back.	In	2008,	the	Windsor	House	community	hosted	IDEC	in	Vancouver.	It	was	my	first	visit	to	Vancouver.	At	that	conference,	I	led	a	workshop	with	Meghan	(the	current	principal	of	Windsor	House)	called	“Teacher	Training:	What	should	‘Teacher	Training’	Look	Like	for	a	Democratic	School	Staff	Person.”	We	arrived	at	the	workshop	location	with	one	clear	goal,	which	was	to	inspire	participants	to	follow	their	dreams	and	aspirations	instead	of	lecturing	students	to	do	so.	We	facilitated	an	unstructured	conversation	about	what	it	means	to	model	living	our	dreams	and	we	shared	ideas.	During	the	workshop,	which	for	me	was	akin	to	teh,	we	also	offered	everyone	two	minutes	of	quiet	to	imagine	realizing	one	manageable	dream	for	the	coming	year.	After	the	two	minutes	had	passed	participants	were	eager	to	share	and	to	start	living	their	dreams.	Each	of	us	made	a	promise	to	ourselves	with	50	others	as	witnesses.	I	remember	several	participants’	dreams,	and	I	especially	remember	mine,	as	it	came	to	shape	my	family’s	future	in	Vancouver.	This	understanding	lived	within	me	all	these	years,	knowing	the	importance	of	being	it	and	living	it.	The	dream	I	shared	was	simple:	to	move	my	family	to	Vancouver	so	I	could	study	and	write	my	doctoral	dissertation	on	Windsor	House.	The	moment	arrived,	years	passed,	and	my	dream	came	true.	Therefore,	I	wish	to	close	this	thesis	with	a	short	story	I	shared	on	my	blog	on	October	20,	2013:		“Don’t	dream	it,	be	it”	Rocky	Horror	Picture	Show		Working,	for	many,	means	a	big	pile	of	hours	next	to	the	screen,	typing,	and	dreaming	about	what	I	would	do	after	I	am	done.	Today,	however,	I	experienced	a	special	day	while	volunteering	in	a	democratic	school	in	North	Vancouver.	I	got	to	work	as	I	dreamt	about	in	the	last	few	years.	This	school,	Windsor	House,	which	has	been	around	for	more	than	40	years,	offers	an	alternative	space	to	be	and	grow	in.	There	was	a	magical	atmosphere	around	school	today	in	the	preparation	for	the	show	tonight.	A		 184	group	of	teens	with	the	help	of	younger	peers,	educators,	and	parents,	put	together	[a	production	of]	the	Rocky	Horror	Picture	Show.	They	were	beyond	inspiring.…	For	me,	[they	meaning	to]	the	line	…	“Don’t	dream	it,	be	it”	at	a	truly	practical	level.	I	sweat	today,	working	on	the	set	with	drills,	wood,	and	more.	I	cannot	name	it	yet,	but	something	lighted	in	me	today	that	will	probably	not	let	me	forget	to	be	what	I	dream	to	be.	Future	Thoughts	Predicting	the	future	implications	of	this	study	for	Windsor	House	or	democratic	education	may	be	counterproductive	based	on	the	understanding	and	meaning	gathered	and	created	through	this	thesis.	I	believe	it	would	be	detrimental	to	try	to	impose	and	construct	the	future.	As	such,	the	following	implications	are	offered	as	suggestions	and	represent	only	a	few	of	the	many	possibilities	that	the	future	may	hold.		Future	implications	for	Windsor	House.	Moving	forward,	I	suggest	the	meal	metaphor	described	in	this	chapter	as	a	concept	for	the	Windsor	House	community	to	consider.	Although	this	does	offers	a	framework,	it	is	also	open	to	interpretation	and	adaptation.	The	meal	concept	of	salatim,	seh-oo-da,	and	teh	may	provide	an	opportunity	to	observe	the	meta-understanding	of	the	present.	Looking	into	the	meta	means	examining	the	bigger	picture,	allowing	people	to	fully	grasp	what	leads	to	what	and	determine	how	something	works.	If	this	suggestion	is	adopted,	it	is	important	that	the	meal	concept	be	applied	as	a	creative	inspiration,	not	as	a	theory	to	follow	or	a	means	to	construct	the	lived	education	experience.		Future	implications	for	mainstream	education.	To	take	the	meaning	and	understanding	from	this	study	and	implement	them	as	is	into	mainstream	education	may	be	unjust	to	both	forms	of	education.	It	would	be	unjust	in	terms	of	opposing	a	perspective	of	a	meal	concept	(as	discussed	in	this	thesis)	that	may	be	perceived	as	foreign	in	mainstream	education,	since	the	current	framework	in	mainstream	education	still	requires	measurements,	results,	and	comparisons.		 185		I	believe	the	meaning	and	understanding	that	have	come	to	through	this	study	must	be	adapted	to	fit	into	and	thereby	benefit	the	mainstream	education	system	according	to	the	strengths	and	limitations	that	exist	across	all	streams	of	education.	The	first	step	would	be	to	work	with	Biesta’s	(2018)	question:	What	does	education	means	to	us,	and	what	could	education	make	possible?	This	is	an	important	starting	point	that	could	lead	to	complicated	conversations	and	enable	educators	to	encounter	the	choices	within	the	mainstream	education.	This	inquiry	could	then	be	continued	by	asking	an	educator	in	mainstream	education:	what	am	I	willing	to	risk	in	my	teaching	in	order	to	move	from	what	education	produces	to	what	education	means	(Biesta,	2018)?	Then,	continuing	with	a	focus	on	personal	work,	educators	can	examine	the	notion	of	radical	hospitality	and	dialogue	for	themselves.		While	looking	into	the	meta-understanding	of	the	question	of	what	education	is	for	and	how	democratic	education	helps	in	achieving	this	goal,	radical	hospitality	comes	to	assist	us.	As	Biesta	(2016)	refers	to	three	potential	purposes	of	education,	that	is,	qualification,	socialization,	and	subjectification,	radical	hospitality	enables	those	three	purposes	to	happen	with	respect	to	personal	desires.	In	other	words,	radical	hospitality	offers	unconditional	acceptance	to	be	in	the	moment	as	the	stories	of	one	another	unfold.	In	doing	so,	radical	hospitality	holds	space	for	subjectification	to	unfold.	Socialization	and	subjectification	are	dominant	principles	of	democratic	education	and	are	supported	by	the	lived	experience	of	radical	hospitality.	At	times,	it	is	hard	to	host	radically	the	self	and	others,	particularly	in	a	system	that	creates	challenging	situations	in	terms	of	curriculum,	goals,	pedagogies,	and	norms.	This	claim	may	confuse	us	to	think	that	the	act	of	radical	hospitality	does	not	have	unworkable	moments,	that	is,	inhospitable	experiences	in	democratic	education	and	beyond,	which	are	not	the	case.	Although	the	notion	of