American Educational Research Journal. Vol. 41, No. 2

American Educational Research Journal
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What Kind of Citizen? The Politics of Educating for Democracy

Joel Westheimer and Joseph Kahne
Am Educ Res J 2004 41: 237
DOI: 10.3102/00028312041002237
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American Educational Research Journal
Summer 2004, Vol. 41, No. 2, pp. 237–269
What Kind of Citizen?

The Politics of Educating for Democracy
Joel Westheimer
University of Ottawa
Joseph Kahne
Mills College
Educators and policymakers increasingly pursue programs that aim to

strengthen democracy through civic education, service learning, and other
pedagogies. Their underlying beliefs, however, differ. This article calls atten-
tion to the spectrum of ideas about what good citizenship is and what good
citizens do that are embodied in democratic education programs. It offers
analyses of a 2-year study of educational programs in the United States that
aimed to promote democracy. Drawing on democratic theory and on find-
ings from their study, the authors detail three conceptions of the “good” citizen—
personally responsible, participatory, and justice oriented—that underscore
political implications of education for democracy. The article demonstrates
that the narrow and often ideologically conservative conception of citizen-
ship embedded in many current efforts at teaching for democracy reflects not
arbitrary choices but, rather, political choices with political consequences.
KEYWORDS: character, citizenship, civic education, democracy, politics.
T he notion of democracy occupies a privileged place in U.S. society. Every-

one believes democracy is desirable. Indeed, educators, policymakers,
politicians, and community activists alike pursue dozens of agendas for change
under the banner of furthering democracy. The nature of their underlying
beliefs, however, differs. We titled this article “What Kind of Citizen?” to call
attention to the spectrum of ideas about what good citizenship is and what
good citizens do that are embodied by democratic education programs nation-
wide. We added the subtitle “The Politics of Educating for Democracy” to
underscore our belief that the narrow and often ideologically conservative
conception of citizenship embedded in many current efforts at teaching for
democracy reflects neither arbitrary choices nor pedagogical limitations but,
rather, political choices that have political consequences.
In what follows, we examine the politics of educating for democracy.
Specifically, we draw on our 2-year study of ten programs in the United States
that aimed to advance the democratic purposes of education. We begin by

Westheimer and Kahne
detailing three conceptions of citizenship (personally responsible, participa-
tory, and justice oriented) that emerged from our analysis of democratic the-
ory and program goals and practices. We then discuss some of the potentially
significant political implications of these differing conceptions. The bulk of
our empirical work describes two of the ten programs we studied. One pro-
gram aimed to advance participatory citizens and the other justice-oriented
citizens. Our data—both quantitative and qualitative—demonstrate that the
decisions educators make when designing and researching these programs
often influence politically important outcomes regarding the ways that stu-
dents understand the strengths and weaknesses of our society and the ways
that they should act as citizens in a democracy.

Philosophers, historians, and political scientists have long debated which con-
ceptions of citizenship would best advance democracy (see, for example,
Kaestle, 2000; Smith, 1997; Schudson, 1998). Indeed, as Connolly (1983) has
argued, conceptions of democracy and citizenship have been and will likely
always be debated—no single formulation will triumph. The work of John
Dewey, for example, which probably has done the most to shape dialogues
on education and democracy, has not led to resolution. Rather, scholars and
practitioners interpret his ideas in multiple ways, so no single conception
emerges. In large part, discussion and debate regarding these different per-
spectives continue because the stakes are so high. Conceptions of “good
citizenship” imply conceptions of the good society.
The various perspectives on citizenship also have significantly varying
implications for curriculum. For example, Walter Parker (1996) describes three
very different conceptions of citizen education for a democratic society:
“traditional,” “progressive,” and “advanced.” He explains that traditionalists
emphasize an understanding of how government works (how a bill becomes
JOEL WESTHEIMER is a Professor of Education and University Research Chair at

the University of Ottawa, where he founded and co-directs Democratic Dialogue
(www.democraticdialogue.com). He can be reached at the Faculty of Education, Uni-
versity of Ottawa, 145 Jean-Jacques Lussier, Ottawa, Ontario K1N 6N5, Canada; e-mail
joelw@uottawa.ca. A former New York City public schools teacher, he teaches and
writes on democracy, social justice, service learning, and community in education.
JOSEPH KAHNE is a Professor of Education and the Kathryn P. Hannam Professor
of American Studies at Mills College. He directs the doctoral program in educational
leadership and co-directs the Institute for Civic Leadership (www.mills.edu/ICL) at
Mills College. He can be reached at Mills College, 5000 MacArthur Blvd., Oakland,
CA 94619; e-mail jkahne@mills.edu. A former New York City public schools teacher,
his research, writing, and work with educators concerns the democratic purposes of
schooling and urban school reform.
238

a law, for example) and traditional subject area content, as well as commitments
to core democratic values—such as freedom of speech or liberty in general
(see, for example, Butts, 1988). Progressives share a similar commitment to this
knowledge, but they embrace visions such as “strong democracy” (Barber,
1984) and place a greater emphasis on civic participation in its numerous
forms (see, for example, Newmann, 1975; Hanna, 1936). Finally, “advanced”
citizenship, according to Parker, is one that builds on the progressive per-
spective but adds careful attention to inherent tensions between pluralism and
assimilation or to what Charles Taylor labels the “politics of recognition” (1994,
cited in Parker, p. 113).
Other writers, frequently those on the Left, place a greater emphasis on
the need for social critique and structural change (Shor, 1992; Freire, 1990).
Alternatively, those inclined to a conservative vision of citizenship education
put forward a connection between citizenship and character (Bennett, 1995,
1998; Bennett, Cribb, & Finn, 1999). Rather than view problems that need
attention as structural, they emphasize problems in society caused by per-
sonal deficits. Some educators reflect the liberal vision of citizenship embed-
ded in John Rawls’s (1971) writings, aiming, for example, to recognize the
varied perspectives on “the good” that exist in a pluralistic society. What
citizens require, in this view, is preparation for a society characterized by
“durable pluralism” (see Strike, 1999). Still other visions emphasize preparing
informed voters, preparing individuals for public deliberation, and preparing
students to critically analyze social policies and priorities. Indeed, there exists
a vast and valuable array of perspectives on the kinds of citizens that democ-
racies require and the kinds of curricula that can help to achieve democratic
aims (see, for example, Callan, 1997; Fine, 1995; Gutmann, 1986; Soder et al.,
2001; Youniss & Yates, 1997).
The particular framework that we provide below was selected to high-
light several important political dimensions of efforts to educate citizens for
democracy. Our description of three “kinds of citizens” is not intended to be
exhaustive. In addition, although we detail strategies related to these goals
elsewhere (Kahne & Westheimer, 2003; Westheimer & Kahne, 2002), we focus
in this article not so much on the various strategies that educators use to reach
a particular democratic destination, but more on the varied conceptions of the
destination itself. Thus our title question: What kind of citizen?
Three Kinds of Citizens

Our framework aims to order some of these perspectives by grouping three
kinds of answers to a question that is of central importance for both practi-
tioners and scholars: What kind of citizen do we need to support an effective
democratic society? In mapping the terrain that surrounds answers to this
question, we found that three visions of “citizenship” were particularly help-
ful in making sense of the variation: the personally responsible citizen; the
participatory citizen; and the justice-oriented citizen (see Table 1).
239

Table 1
Kinds of Citizens
Personally responsible citizen Participatory citizen Justice-oriented citizen
Description
Acts responsibly in his/her Active member of com- Critically assesses
community munity organizations social, political, and
Works and pays taxes and/or improvement economic structures
Obeys laws efforts to see beyond sur-
Recycles, gives blood Organizes community face causes
Volunteers to lend a hand efforts to care for Seeks out and
in times of crisis those in need, pro- addresses areas of
mote economic injustice
development, or Knows about demo-
clean up environment cratic social move-
Knows how government ments and how to
agencies work effect systemic
Knows strategies for change
accomplishing collec-
tive tasks
Sample action
Contributes food to a food drive Helps to organize a Explores why people
food drive are hungry and acts
to solve root causes
Core assumptions
To solve social problems and To solve social prob- To solve social prob-
improve society, citizens must lems and improve lems and improve
have good character; they must society, citizens must society, citizens
be honest, responsible, and actively participate must question,
law-abiding members of the and take leadership debate, and
community. positions within change established
established systems systems and struc-
and community tures that reproduce
structures. patterns of injustice
over time.
These three categories were chosen because they satisfied our three
main criteria:
1. They aligned well with prominent theoretical perspectives described
above;
2. They highlight important differences in the ways that educators con-
ceive of democratic educational aims; that is, they frame distinctions
that have significant implications for the politics of education for
democracy; and
3. They articulate ideas and ideals that resonate with practitioners
(teachers, administrators, and curriculum designers).
240

With these criteria in mind, we consulted both with the 10 teams of educa-
tors whose work we studied and with other leaders in the field in an effort to
create categories and descriptions that aligned well with and communicated
clearly their differing priorities.1
Each vision of citizenship, therefore, reflects a relatively distinct set of
theoretical and curricular goals. These visions are not cumulative. Programs
that promote justice-oriented citizens do not necessarily promote personal
responsibility or participatory citizenship. In saying this, we do not mean to
imply that a given program might not simultaneously further more than one
of these agendas. For instance, although a curriculum designed principally
to promote personally responsible citizens will generally look quite different
from one that focuses primarily on developing capacities and commitments
for participatory citizenship, it is possible for a given curriculum to further both
goals. At the same time, we believe that drawing attention to the distinctions
between these visions of citizenship is important. Doing so highlights the
value of examining the underlying goals and assumptions that drive differ-
ent educational programs.
The Personally Responsible Citizen

The personally responsible citizen acts responsibly in his or her community by,
for example, picking up litter, giving blood, recycling, obeying laws, and stay-
ing out of debt. The personally responsible citizen contributes to food or cloth-
ing drives when asked and volunteers to help those less fortunate, whether in
a soup kitchen or a senior center. Programs that seek to develop personally
responsible citizens attempt to build character and personal responsibility by
emphasizing honesty, integrity, self-discipline, and hard work (Horace Mann,
1838; also see current proponents such as Lickona, 1993; Wynne, 1986).
People who are involved in the character education movement frequently
advance such perspectives. The Character Counts! Coalition, for example,
advocates teaching students to “treat others with respect, . . . deal peacefully
with anger, . . . be considerate of the feelings of others, . . . follow the Golden
Rule, . . . use good manners,” and so on (Character Counts! Coalition, 2004).
Other programs that seek to develop personally responsible citizens hope to
nurture compassion by engaging students in volunteer activities. As illustrated
in the mission statement of the Points of Light Foundation, these programs
hope to “help solve serious social problems” by “engag[ing] more people more
effectively in volunteer service” (www.pointsoflight.org, retrieved in April 2000).
The Participatory Citizen

Other educators see good citizens as those who actively participate in the civic
affairs and the social life of the community at the local, state, or national level.
We call this kind of citizen the participatory citizen. Proponents of this vision
emphasize preparing students to engage in collective, community-based efforts.
Educational programs designed to support the development of participatory
241

citizens focus on teaching students how government and community-based
organizations work and training them to plan and participate in organized
efforts to care for people in need or, for example, to guide school policies. Skills
associated with such collective endeavors—such as how to run a meeting—are
also viewed as important (Newmann, 1975; also see Verba et al., 1995, for an
empirical analysis of the importance of such skills and activities). Whereas the
personally responsible citizen would contribute cans of food for the homeless,
the participatory citizen might organize the food drive.
In the tradition of de Tocqueville, proponents of participatory citizenship
argue that civic participation transcends particular community problems or
opportunities. It also develops relationships, common understandings, trust,
and collective commitments. Dewey (1916) put forward a vision of “Democ-
racy as a Way of Life” and emphasized participation in collective endeavors.
This perspective, like Benjamin Barber’s notion of “strong democracy,” adopts
a broad notion of the political sphere—one in which citizens “with com-
peting but overlapping interests can contrive to live together communally”
(1984, p. 118).
The Justice-Oriented Citizen

Our third image of a good citizen is, perhaps, the perspective that is least
commonly pursued. Justice-oriented educators argue that effective demo-
cratic citizens need opportunities to analyze and understand the interplay of
social, economic, and political forces. We use the term justice-oriented citi-
zen because advocates of these priorities use rhetoric and analysis that calls
explicit attention to matters of injustice and to the importance of pursuing
social justice.2 The vision of the justice-oriented citizen shares with the vision
of the participatory citizen an emphasis on collective work related to the life
and issues of the community. Its focus on responding to social problems and
to structural critique make it somewhat different, however. Building on per-
spectives like those of Freire and Shor noted earlier, educational programs
that emphasize social change seek to prepare students to improve society by
critically analyzing and addressing social issues and injustices. These pro-
grams are less likely to emphasize the need for charity and volunteerism as
ends in themselves and more likely to teach about social movements and
how to effect systemic change (see, for example, Ayers et al., 1998; Bigelow
& Diamond, 1988; Isaac, 1992).3 That today’s citizens are “bowling alone”
(Putnam, 2000) would worry those who are focused on civic participation.
Those who emphasize social justice, however, would worry more that when
citizens do get together, they often fail to focus on root causes of problems.
In other words, if participatory citizens are organizing the food drive and per-
sonally responsible citizens are donating food, justice-oriented citizens are
asking why people are hungry and acting on what they discover.
Although educators aiming to promote justice-oriented citizens may well
employ curriculum that makes political issues more explicit than those who
emphasize personal responsibility or participatory citizenship, the focus on
242

social change and social justice does not imply an emphasis on particular
political perspectives, conclusions, or priorities. (The range of structural ap-
proaches for alleviating poverty that exist, for example, spans the political
spectrum.) Indeed, those working to prepare justice-oriented citizens for a
democracy do not aim to impart a fixed set of truths or critiques regarding
the structure of the society.4 Rather, they work to engage students in informed
analysis and discussion regarding social, political, and economic structures.
They want students to consider collective strategies for change that challenge
injustice and, when possible, address root causes of problems. The nature
of this discussion is of critical importance. As many theorists of democracy
make clear, it is fundamentally important that the process respect the varied
voices and priorities of citizens while considering the evidence of experts,
the analysis of government leaders, or the particular preferences of a given
group or of an individual leader. Similarly, students must learn to weigh the
varied opinions and arguments of fellow students and teachers. Because con-
ceptions of the greater good will differ, justice-oriented students must develop
the ability to communicate with and learn from those who hold different per-
spectives. This is not to say that consensus is always the appropriate out-
come. Educating justice-oriented citizens also requires that they be prepared
to effectively promote their goals as individuals and groups in sometimes-
contentious political arenas.
The Limits of Personal Responsibility

Among competing conceptions of democratic values and citizenship, per-
sonal responsibility receives the most attention. This is especially true of the
character education and community service movements, both of which are
well-funded efforts to bring about these particular kinds of reforms. We find
this emphasis an inadequate response to the challenges of educating a demo-
cratic citizenry. The limits of character education and of volunteerism and
the conservative political orientation reflected in many of these efforts have
been addressed elsewhere in some detail, so we simply summarize them
here. Critics note that the emphasis placed on individual character and behav-
ior obscures the need for collective and public sector initiatives; that this
emphasis distracts attention from analysis of the causes of social problems
and from systemic solutions; that volunteerism and kindness are put forward
as ways of avoiding politics and policy (Barber, 1992; Boyte, 1991; West-
heimer & Kahne, 2000; Kahne & Westheimer, 1996).
The central tenets of the Character Counts! Coalition illustrate what we see
as the limitations of personally responsible citizenship as it is commonly prac-
ticed in school-based programs. Certainly honesty, integrity, and responsibility
for one’s actions are valuable character traits for good neighbors and citizens.
We are not arguing that personal responsibility or related virtuous behavior
is unimportant. Similarly, in most circumstances, obeying laws that flow from
democratic structures such as legislatures is essential. Such traits have the
potential to strengthen a democracy by fostering social trust and willingness
243

to commit to collective efforts, for example.5 There are a host of reasons beyond
our focus on democratic citizenship that could be used to justify efforts by
educators to foster personal responsibility—to produce trustworthy, helpful,
hard-working, and pleasant students. No one wants young people to lie,
cheat, or steal.
At the same time, the visions of obedience and patriotism that are often
and increasingly associated with this agenda can be at odds with demo-
cratic goals. And even the widely accepted goals—fostering honesty, good-
neighborliness, and so on—are not inherently about democracy. Indeed,
government leaders in a totalitarian regime would be as delighted as leaders
in a democracy if their young citizens learned the lessons put forward by
many of the proponents of personally responsible citizenship: Don’t do
drugs; show up at school; show up at work; give blood; help others dur-
ing a flood; recycle; pick up litter; clean up a park; treat old people with
respect. These are desirable traits for people living in a community. But they
are not about democratic citizenship. To the extent that emphasis on these
character traits detracts from other important democratic priorities, it may
actually hinder rather than make possible democratic participation and
change. For example, a focus on loyalty or obedience (common components
of character education as well) works against the kind of critical reflection
and action that many assume are essential in a democratic society.
Data regarding the way young people often think about their civic
responsibilities reinforce our concern regarding an exclusive focus on per-
sonally responsible citizenship. A study commissioned by the National Asso-
ciation of Secretaries of State (1999) found that fewer than 32% of eligible
voters between the ages of 18 and 24 voted in the 1996 presidential election
(in 1972, the comparable number was 50%), but that a whopping 94% of
those aged 15–24 believed that “the most important thing I can do as a citi-
zen is to help others” (also see Sax et al., 1999). In a very real sense, youth
seem to be “learning” that citizenship does not require democratic govern-
ments, politics, or even collective endeavors.
Research and evaluation of educational programs also frequently reflect
this conservative and individualistic conception of personally responsible cit-
izenship.6 Studies commonly ask participants, for example, whether they feel
it is their responsibility to take care of those in need and whether problems of
pollution and toxic waste are “everyone’s responsibility” or “not my responsi-
bility.” They rarely ask questions about corporate responsibility—in what ways
industries should be regulated, for example—or about ways that government
policies can advance or hinder solutions to social problems. Survey questions
typically emphasize individual and charitable acts. They ignore important influ-
ences such as social movements and government policy on efforts to improve
society. Educators who seek to teach personally responsible citizenship and
researchers who study their programs focus on individual acts of compassion
and kindness, not on collective social action and the pursuit of social justice
(Kahne, Westheimer, & Rogers, 2000).
244

Pursuit of Participatory and Justice-Oriented Citizens
Often, democratic theorists blend commitments to participation with com-
mitments to justice. For example, Benjamin Barber’s “strong democracy”
focuses on forms of civic engagement that are “persuasively progressive and
democratic . . . useful especially to those who are partisans of democratic
struggle and social justice” (1998, p. 10). Similarly, Boyte and Kari (1996)
invoke the populist tradition and emphasize the need to recognize the
talent, intelligence, and capacities of ordinary people by engaging them in
collective civic projects. They stress the importance of forms of civic partic-
ipation that have historically been used to pursue social justice, showcasing,
for example, the work of civil rights activists who used nonviolent actions of
civil disobedience.
From the standpoint of supporting the development of democratic com-
munities, combining these commitments is rational. Developing commitments
for civic participation and social justice as well as fostering the capacities to
fulfill those commitments will support the development of a more democratic
society. We should be wary of assuming that commitments to participatory
citizenship and to justice necessarily align, however. These two orientations
have potentially differing implications for educators. Although pursuit of
both goals may well support development of a more democratic society, it is
not clear whether making advances along one dimension will necessarily fur-
ther progress on the other. Do programs that support civic participation nec-
essarily promote students’ capacities for critical analysis and social change?
Conversely, does focusing on social justice provide the foundation for effec-
tive and committed civic actors? Or might such programs support the devel-
opment of armchair activists who have articulate conversations over coffee,
without ever acting? We now turn to these questions.
Our empirical investigation of this topic focuses on the subtle and not-
so-subtle differences between programs that emphasize participation and
those that emphasize justice. We focus this part of our discussion on goals of
participatory and justice-oriented citizenship for two reasons. First, because
of shortcomings of the personally responsible model as a means of develop-
ing citizens, none of the programs funded by the foundation that supported
our study emphasized this approach. Moreover, as noted earlier, a significant
body of work already addresses the conflicts and limitations of equating per-
sonal responsibility with democratic citizenship.
Below, we describe two of the programs we studied, to draw attention
to the differences in their civic and democratic priorities and to the tensions
that those differences raise for educators. Both programs worked with classes
of high school students, and both were designed to support the development
of democratic and civic understandings and commitments. But their goals
and strategies differed. The first, which we call “Madison County Youth in
Public Service,” aims to develop participatory citizens; the second, which we
call “Bayside Students for Justice,” aims to develop justice-oriented citizens.
245

Method
Sample
This article focuses on data from two of the ten programs, all in the United
States, that we studied as part of the Surdna Foundation’s Democratic Values
Initiative.7 The first, Madison County Youth in Public Service, was located
in a suburban/rural East Coast community outside a city of roughly 23,000
people. Two teachers were involved in this project, one from each of the
county’s high schools. Although we were not able to collect reports on
students’ ethnicity, teachers characterized the student population as almost
entirely European American (with a few recent immigrants). An estimated
3% of the schools’ students were persons of color. Each year, the teachers
worked with one of their government classes, so over period of 2 years, four
classes participated. Students needed to request to participate in this version
of the 12th-grade government class, and teachers characterized participants
as slightly better than average in terms of academic background. Students
who enrolled in the advanced placement government course could not par-
ticipate. More girls (59%) than boys (41%) participated.
The second program, Bayside Students for Justice, was a curriculum
developed as part of a 12th-grade social studies course for low-achieving
students in a comprehensive urban high school on the West Coast. The student
population was typical of West Coast city schools: a total of 25 students took
part in the program, and 21 of them completed both pretest and posttest
surveys; of those taking the survey, 13 were female (62%) and 8 male (38%),
8 were African American (38%), 1 was Caucasian (5%), 8 were Asian or Pacific
Islander (38%), 1 was Latino (5%), and 3 identified themselves as “Other”
(10%). The group tested roughly at national norms and was relatively low-
income, with 40% living in public housing (data provided by the instructor).
Procedures
Our study employs a mixed-methods approach—it combines qualitative data
from observations and interviews with quantitative analysis of pre/post survey
data. Our rationale for adopting a mixed-methods approach reflects what
Lois-ellin Datta (1997) has labeled “the pragmatic basis” for mixed-method
designs. That is, we employed the combination of methods that we felt were
best suited to our inquiry—the methods that would best enable us to gain
insight and to communicate what we learned to relevant audiences (also see
Patton, 1988).
At all 10 sites in our study, we collected four forms of data: observations,
interviews, surveys, and documents prepared by program staff. Each year, our
observations took place over a 2-to-3-day period in classrooms and at service
sites. Over the 2 years of the study, we interviewed 61 students from the
“Madison” program (close to all participating students, in groups of 3 or 4).
We interviewed 23 students from “Bayside” (either individually or in groups
246

of 2 to 3. We aimed for a cross-section of students in terms of academic abil-
ity, enthusiasm for the program, and gender. We also interviewed at least
three staff members for each program toward the end of each year. Interviews
lasted between 20 and 45 minutes, and all interviews were both taped and
transcribed. Finally, we conducted pre and post surveys of all participating
students in September and June. In the case of Madison, we studied the same
program for 2 years.8 The Bayside program changed significantly after the 1st
year of operation, and so it did not make sense to merge the data from Years
1 and 2. In this article, we report data only from the 2nd year.9 To receive
feedback and as a check on our interpretations, we shared our analysis of
quantitative and qualitative findings with those who ran the programs.
Measures and Analysis

Survey items were selected in an effort to assess capacities and orientations
related to aspects of the three kinds of citizenship we identified. We also
included several measures associated with students’ civic orientation and
capacities: civic efficacy, vision, leadership efficacy, desire to volunteer in the
future, knowledge/social capital for community development, following news
stories, views on government responsibility for those in need, and employer
responsibility for employees.10 Together, these measures helped us to see dif-
ferences across programs in democratic orientation and the capacities that
they promoted.
The interviews and observations were designed to help us clarify stu-
dents’ beliefs regarding what it means to be a good citizen and the ways that
features of the curriculum may have affected those perspectives. We asked
participants to identify and discuss particular social issues that were impor-
tant to them and to community members. We encouraged them to describe
their perspective on the nature of these problems, the causes, and possible
ways of responding. Did the students emphasize needs for individual morality,
civic participation, or challenges to structures or social inequities? Next we
asked participants to describe any ways that their participation in the given
program might have altered their attitudes, knowledge, or skills in relation
to those issues.
We asked similar questions of teachers. We wanted to understand their
priorities, their conception of responsible and effective citizenship, their per-
spective on civic education, their strategies, and how these approaches did
and did not appear to be working. During these interviews we encouraged
students and instructors to talk about specific “critical incidents” so that we
could better understand the curricular components that promoted varied
forms of development. Our methods here were informed by critical incident
interviewing techniques (see Flanagan, 1954).
The analysis of interview and observation data occurred throughout data
collection as well as after data collection was complete and followed the
process described by Strauss (1990) as the “constant comparative method.”
247

This iterative process occurred through reflective and analytical memoran-
dums between the researchers as well as through the ongoing coding of field
notes. In particular, we analyzed the interviews for recurring themes and pat-
terns regarding student and teacher perceptions of how participation had
affected students’ beliefs regarding citizenship and democratic values. We also
asked teachers to reflect on our observations, not only to test the accuracy of
statements but also to reexamine perceptions and conclusions, drawing on
their insider knowledge.11
Authors’ Predispositions
Given the ideological nature of the content of our inquiry, it makes sense for
us to be explicit about our own perspectives with regard to personally respon-
sible citizenship, participatory citizenship, and justice-oriented citizenship.
We think that each vision has merit. However, although we value character
traits such as honesty, diligence, and compassion, for reasons already discussed,
we find the exclusive emphasis on personally responsible citizenship apart
from analysis of social, political, and economic contexts (as it frequently is,
in practice) inadequate for advancing democracy. There is nothing inherently
democratic about personally responsible citizenship, and specifically un-
democratic practices are sometimes associated with programs that rely exclu-
sively on notions of personal responsibility.
From our perspective, traits associated with participatory and justice-
oriented citizenship are essential. Not every program needs to address all
goals simultaneously to be of value. But educators must attend to these pri-
orities if schools are to prepare citizens for democracy.
Developing Participatory Citizens:

Madison County Youth in Public Service
Madison County Youth in Public Service was run by two social studies teach-
ers in a rural East Coast community. The idea for Youth in Public Service came
to one of the teachers after she had attended a speech by Benjamin Barber
about the importance of engaging students in public life. These teachers (one
a 20-year veteran and the other a 2nd-year teacher) taught a condensed and
intensified version of a standard government course during the first semester
of the academic year. For the second semester, they developed a service
learning curriculum. Students focused on particular topics related to their gov-
ernment curriculum as they worked in small teams on public service projects
in their county’s administrative offices. Their goal, as one teacher explained,
was “to produce kids that are active citizens in our community . . . kids that
won’t be afraid to go out and take part in their community . . . kids that under-
stand that you have to have factual evidence to back up anything you say,
anything you do.”
248

One group of students investigated whether citizens in their community
wanted curbside trash pickup for recycling that was organized by the county.
They conducted phone interviews, undertook a cost analysis, and examined
charts of projected housing growth to estimate growth in trash and its cost
and environmental implications. Another group identified jobs that prison-
ers incarcerated for fewer than 90 days could perform and analyzed the cost
of similar programs in other localities. Other students helped to develop a
5-year plan for the fire and rescue department. For each project, students had
to collect and analyze data, interact with government agencies, write a report,
and present their findings in a formal hearing before the county’s board of
supervisors.
The teachers of the program believed that placing students in intern-
ships where they worked on meaningful projects under the supervision of
committed role models would
• Teach students how government works;
• Help students to recognize the importance of being actively involved
in community issues; and
• Provide students with the skills required for effective and informed
civic involvement.
As we discuss below, Madison County Youth in Public Service was quite suc-
cessful in achieving many of these goals.
Making Civic Education Meaningful

Our interviews, observations, and survey data all indicated that the experience
of working in the local community had a significant impact on students, espe-
cially as compared with traditional classwork. Janine’s reaction was typical:
I learned more by doing this than I would just sitting in a class-

room. . . . I mean, you really don’t have hands-on activities in a class-
room. But when you go out [to the public agencies] instead of getting
to read about problems, we see the problems. Instead of, you know,
writing down a solution, we make a solution.
Teresa, another student, said,
I kind of felt like everything that we had been taught in class, how
the whole government works. . . . We got to learn it and we got to go
out and experience it. We saw things happening in front of us within
the agency. I think it was more useful to put it together and see it
happening instead of just reading from a book and learning from it.
Not only did the activities in the community help to enliven classroom
learning, but many of the students’ projects also tangibly affected the local
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community. Indeed, students talked about the powerful impact of realizing
that what they did would or could make a difference:
I thought it was just going be another project. You know, we do some

research, it gets written down and we leave and it gets put on the
shelf somewhere. But in 5 years, this [curbside recycling] is going to
be a real thing. . . . It’s really going to happen.
I didn’t expect [our work] to have such an impact. . . . I mean, we’ve
been in the newspaper, like, a lot.
By engaging students in projects in the community, Madison County Youth in

Public Service had significant success in making learning relevant to students,
conveying practical knowledge about how to engage in community affairs,
and demonstrating to students the ways that classroom-based academic
knowledge can be used for civic work in the community.
Making a Difference in the Lives of Others

The curriculum also developed students’ desire to participate in civic affairs and
gave them a sense that they could make a difference in the lives of others.
When asked about how the program influenced their thinking, most students
talked about how the experience deepened their belief in the importance of
civic involvement. Emily, for example, spoke about the difference between talk-
ing about a problem and doing something active:
Everyone needs to do their part if they want something to be done. . . .

In politics, the people always say their opinions and get mad about
this and that but then they never do anything about what they feel. . . .
This [experience] makes me feel like you have to do your part.
Moreover, many students reported a strong sense that they could get things
done if they tried:
We’re just kids to most people, and I kind of figured that those peo-
ple wouldn’t really give us the time of day, [but] they were always
willing to help us.
I realized there’s a lot more to government than being a senator or a
representative. There’s so many different things you can do for the
[community] that aren’t as high up.
Students also reported excitement at the prospect of getting involved in ways

they did not know were available to them before their experience with the
Madison program:
I didn’t know that [the sheriff’s office] had meetings all the time. . . .
It makes me think that I’ll go to them when I get older.
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I think if more people were aware of [how they could participate], we
wouldn’t have as many problems, because they would understand
that . . . people do have an impact. But I think in our community . . .
people just don’t seem to think that they will, so they don’t even try.
Our survey results help to further illustrate many of these effects. Student
responses to questions asked on a five-point Likert scale indicated statistically
significant (p < .05) changes from pretest to posttest raw scores on several
measures related to civic participation. As detailed in Table 2, students
expressed a greater belief that they had a personal responsibility to help
others (+0.21), a greater belief that government should help those in need
(+0.24), a stronger sense that they could be effective leaders (+0.31), and an
increased sense of agency—a sense that they could make a difference in their
communities (+0.24). Students also reported that they had a greater commit-
ment to community involvement (this increase, +0.19, was marginally signif-
icant, p = .06).
The robust nature of these results became clearer during the 2nd year
because a control group was also surveyed. This group had similar aca-
demic skills and was taught by the same two teachers. We used t tests to exam-
ine whether the gains noted above for the students who participated in the
Madison program were different than those that occurred in the control class-
rooms. For six of the seven measures on which Madison students registered
statistically significant gains, we found a statistically significant ( p < .05) dif-
ference between the gains of the students in the Madison program and those
in the control classrooms.12 This finding, combined with the fact that the con-
trol group did not show statistically significant changes on any survey mea-
sures, adds to our confidence that the Madison curriculum supported student
development in ways consistent with a vision of participatory citizenship.
A Vision of What to Do and the Knowledge and Skills Needed to Do It

Students consistently spoke of the needs in their community and of their
ideas about how to address those needs. The group of students investigat-
ing curbside trash pickup for recycling, for example, conducted surveys of
community residents, researched other communities’ recycling programs,
met with county officials about their plan, and wrote letters to the editors of
local newspapers. “We researched the Code of [Madison] County to find out,
you know, the legal requirements,” one student explained. Another group
of students discovered that child immunization rates were low in their com-
munity and worked with the health department to develop ways to encour-
age parents to have their children immunized:
[We] worked on the computer a lot, putting records in, trying to find
percentages [of children immunized] for the counties around us. . . .
We talked about outreach programs and stuff like that. We’re basi-
cally trying to let parents know.
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Table 2
252
Madison County Youth in Public Service
Significance Number of
Factors (Cronbach’s alpha pretest, posttest) Sample Change Pretest Posttest level students
Personal responsibility to help others (.62, .74) Intervention .21* 4.00 4.21 .01 61
Control −.06 3.99 3.92 .63 37
Commitment to community involvement (.54, .71) Intervention .19 4.27 4.46 .06 61
Control −.10 3.89 3.99 .54 37
Interest in politics (.81, .81) Intervention .03 3.41 3.44 .55 61
Control −.05 2.76 2.71 .63 37
Structural/individual explanations for poverty (.59, .61) Intervention −.10 3.13 3.03 .56 32
Control .14 3.37 3.51 .35 37
Desire to work for justice (.65, .73) Intervention .07 3.07 3.14 .31 61
Control .03 2.84 2.88 .81 37
Civic efficacy (.66, .71) Intervention .34** 3.78 4.12 .00 61
Control .10 3.38 3.48 .34 37
Vision (.65, .71) Intervention .30* 2.65 2.95 .01 61
Control .12 2.63 2.75 .35 37
Knowledge/social capital for community development Intervention .94** 3.95 4.89 .00 60
(.67, .72) Control −.23 3.13 2.90 .25 37
Leadership efficacy (.78, .81) Intervention .31** 3.60 3.91 .00 61
Control .03 3.57 3.60 .72 37
I will volunteer (.80, .86) Intervention .10 3.59 3.70 .14 61
Control −.09 3.28 3.18 .43 37

Follow the news (.43, .41) Intervention .24** 3.35 3.59 .00 60
Control −.12 3.22 3.10 .27 37
Government responsibility for those in need (.68, .61) Intervention .24* 3.10 3.34 .05 32
Control .00 3.28 3.28 1.00 37
Employer responsibility for employees (.83, .87) Intervention .09 3.81 3.9 .35 32
Control −.02 4.14 4.12 .83 37
*p < .05. **p < .01.

Other groups learned how to analyze the tax code, telephoning the Com-
missioner of Revenue’s office when they needed information or explanations,
or wrote grants to raise money for student resources, or traveled to the state
attorney’s office to get information on crime rates in schools before surveying
faculty and students.
The quantitative findings (see Table 2) demonstrated the gains in students’
vision and sense of capacity for community engagement as well. Responses
on Likert scales indicated increases in students’ vision of how to help others
(+0.30) and in their belief that they had knowledge and the “social capital”
needed to support community development (+ 0.94, the greatest gain). The
control groups showed no significant change in these measures.
The Politics of Participatory Citizenship

The Madison program aimed to promote civic participation consistent with a
vision of participatory citizenship, to link service to academic content, and to
provide a meaningful research experience. We found the program to be
notable for its success in these areas. But the program did not aim to foster
the justice-oriented citizen’s understanding of structural or root causes of
problems. Although students did study controversial topics—prisoners’ being
required to work for small earnings or without pay, for example, or problems
in a detention center for juveniles—they did not consider structural issues
or questions of systemic injustice. They did not examine data regarding the
relationship between race, social class, and prison sentencing or question
whether increased incarceration has lowered crime rates. They did not exam-
ine whether incarcerating juveniles (as opposed to other possible policies)
affects the likelihood of future criminal activity or investigate which groups
lobby for tougher or less strict sentencing laws. Nor did they identify or
discuss the diverse ideologies that inform political stances on such issues.
We found a similarly limited focus when a group of students examined their
county’s tax structure to identify possible ways to finance needed school con-
struction and conducted a survey to determine residents’ preferences. They
found that 108 of 121 residents said no to the idea of a local income tax. The
students did not discuss the reasons that so many residents opposed a local
income tax or examine issues of equity when considering alternative options
for taxation.
Students said that they had learned a great deal about micro-politics,
such as how various government offices compete for funding, why collabo-
ration between county offices is sometimes difficult, and how to make things
happen. However, teachers avoided broader, ideologically based political
issues. One group of students, for example, conducted research for the county
voter registrar. Their plan was to survey customers of the Department of Motor
Vehicles (DMV) to find out how the voter registration process could be
improved. They struggled for more than a month to get permission from the
DMV to conduct the survey but were unable to make any progress until they
contacted their state representative. Their request was then approved. As a
253

student explained, “I basically learned about how our government works and
who has pull.” Although valuable, their exploration did not consider the ways
that interest group and party politics have influenced voter registration poli-
cies. Students were not asked why some groups opposed practices that would
ease the voter registration process.
In general, we did not find evidence in student interviews, in our obser-
vations, or in our analysis of survey data that the students examined ideo-
logical or political issues related to interest groups or the political process, the
causes of poverty, various groups’ access to health care, or the fairness of
various systems of taxation (even though two projects focused on issues
related to health care and taxation). Students focused on particular programs
and policies and aimed for technocratic, value-neutral analysis.
Accordingly, our survey data (see Table 2) did not indicate significant
increases in measures related to justice-oriented citizenship. The program did
not alter students’ stated interest in politics or political activity (e.g., by voting
or writing letters) or their stated commitment to work for justice. Nor did it
alter their perspective on the degree to which structural rather than individual
factors might contribute to poverty.
These findings are consistent with the stated goals of the people who
ran the program. When asked to list characteristics of a “good citizen,” pro-
gram leaders responded with expressions such as “honesty,” “civic partici-
pation,” “takes responsibility for others,” “becomes involved in solving public
problems,” “active participant rather than passive,” “educated about democ-
racy, makes decisions based on facts,” and “loyalty to God/country.” To sum-
marize, then, neither the goals of the teachers who developed and taught the
curriculum nor the outcomes we measured included changes in students’
interest in politics, their perspective on structural roots of social problems,
or their commitment to social justice.
Developing Justice-Oriented Citizens: Bayside Students for Justice

In a comprehensive urban high school on the West Coast, a group of teachers
developed the Bayside Students for Justice curriculum as part of a multi-school
program tying school-based academic work to educational experiences in the
community. Inspired by the United Nations’ Declaration of Human Rights, these
teachers implemented the Bayside curriculum with students diverse in ethnic-
ity, language, and socioeconomic status, 40% of whom were living in public
housing (see “Methods” section for complete demographics).
The Bayside program aimed to develop community activists. As one of
the teachers for this program put it, “My goal is to turn students into activists
[who are] empowered to focus on things that they care about in their own
lives and to . . . show them avenues that they can use to achieve real social
change, profound social change.” The program advanced a justice-oriented
vision of citizenship seeking to teach students how to address structural issues
of inequity and injustice and bring about social change. A program developer
explained:
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A good citizen actively organizes with other people [to address]
causes of injustice and suffering. . . . A good citizen understands the
complexities of social issues, political issues, and economic issues,
and how they are tied together, and is not always willing to accept
the definition of a problem as presented to them by politicians.
Some Bayside students studied whether SAT exams were biased, and they
created a pamphlet pointing out the weaknesses of the test in adequately
predicting future student success in college. They distributed the pamphlet
to the school and surrounding community. Another group examined child
labor practices worldwide and the social, political, and economic issues
those practices raise. These students held schoolwide forums on their findings
in an effort to inform students—many of whom wore the designer clothes
and shoes manufactured by the corporations that the group investigated.
They also called on school officials to be aware of the labor practices em-
ployed by manufacturers from which the school purchased T-shirts and
athletic uniforms. Jason’s observation—typical of students interviewed about
their experience—reflects the program’s emphasis on justice: “It’s amazing
how all this exploitation is all around us and stuff. I mean, we are even wear-
ing clothes and we don’t have [any] idea who makes them, how much they’re
paid, or where they work.” A third group investigated what they found to be
a dearth of adequate education programs in juvenile detention centers, even-
tually making a video to publicize their findings. In a presentation to the
school, this group reported, “Instead of buying books, they used money to
put bars on windows [that] don’t even open.” One of the students said, “We
wanted to show that not all the kids in there are that bad,” adding, “If our
youth is the future of our country, then we’d better take care of [them] even
if they’re in trouble.”
The teachers of the Bayside program believed that having students seek
out and address areas of injustice in society would
• Sensitize students to the diverse needs and perspectives of fellow
citizens;
• Teach students to recognize injustice and critically assess root causes
of social problems; and
• Provide students with an understanding of how to change estab-
lished systems and structures.
Bayside, like Madison, was successful in meeting many of the curriculum
planners’ stated goals. Bayside students, for example, also noted the impor-
tance of making their classroom learning meaningful. One Bayside class
member reported, “I don’t like to learn just by reading because it goes in one
ear and out the other; but in this class we can really make a difference.”
Others made comments such as these: “This class was more exciting because
it was more real”; “We were out there instead of just with our heads in the
books”; and, “I liked feeling like we could do something positive.” Ayisha
spoke about the connection this way: “Before this experience, I thought
255

school was just about passing this test or that test. . . . Now I finally see [that]
you can use your knowledge of history to make a better world.” Also, like
their Madison counterparts, Bayside students indicated an increased sense of
civic efficacy (+0.47), likely attributable to their experiences in the commu-
nity, and an increased belief that government has a responsibility to help
those in need (+0.29).
But although the Bayside and Madison curricular experiences shared a
number of features, other aspects of their curriculums, goals, and effects
on students differed significantly. For example, survey results from Bayside
reflected the program’s emphasis on critical social analysis and on under-
standing political forces that affect social policy (see Table 3). Students reported
significant increases on items measuring their ability to consider structural
explanations for poverty (+0.28) and their interest in politics and political
issues (+0.33)—scales on which Madison students showed no change. Con-
versely, Bayside students did not demonstrate gains in their knowledge
about particular community groups or about the technical challenges and
possibilities associated with particular policies and initiatives, whereas the
Table 3
Bayside Students for Justice
Factors (Cronbach’s alpha Significance Number of

pretest, posttest) Change Pretest Posttest level students
Personal responsibility to .09 3.84 3.94 .60 21

help others (.62, .74)
Commitment to community .07 3.58 3.45 .77 21
involvement (.54, .71)
Interest in politics (.81, .81) .33* 2.68 3.01 .02 21
Structural/individual .28* 3.88 4.16 .04 21
explanations for poverty
(.59, .61)
Desire to work for justice −.09 3.19 3.10 .54 21
(.65, .73)
Civic efficacy (.66, .71) .47* 3.03 3.50 .04 21
Vision (.65, .71) .36 2.43 2.79 .15 21
Knowledge/social capital .17 2.76 2.93 .43 21
for community
development (.67, .72)
Leadership efficacy (.78, .81) .12 3.13 3.26 .36 21
I will volunteer (.80, .86) .18 3.10 3.28 .22 21
Follow the news (.43, .41) .27* 3.13 3.40 .02 21
Government responsibility .29* 3.19 3.48 .05 21
for those in need (.68, .61)
Employer responsibility −.05 4.37 4.32 .73 21
for employees (.83, .87)
*p < .05.
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Madison students showed evidence of progress in these areas. Madison stu-
dents reported statistically significant ( p < .05) gains on survey items linked
to leadership skills, vision, and knowledge related to civic participation
(as well as on items linked to their sense of personal responsibility to help
others); Bayside students did not.
Our case study of Bayside helps us understand the reasons for these dif-
ferent outcomes. Specifically, at the center of Bayside’s approach were com-
mitments to critical and structural social analysis, to making the personal
political, and to collective responsibility for action.
Critical and Structural Social Analysis

The class that best illustrates the Bayside program’s focus on critical analy-
sis and social critique was the one led by Nadia Franconi, a veteran social
studies teacher and one of the program’s founders. Franconi saw an under-
standing of social justice as an essential component of informed citizenship.
Adorning her classroom walls were several posters with quotations from
well-known educators, religious leaders, and social critics, for example,
Bishop Dom Helder Camara: “When I give food to the poor, they call me a
saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist”;
Paulo Freire: “Washing one’s hands of the conflict between the powerful and
the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral.”
Franconi had her students study a variety of manifestations of violence
in their community, including domestic violence, child abuse, and gang vio-
lence. They arrived at this choice through a process in which the teacher had
them “map” their communities (to gain a sense of what issues affected the
students’ own lives and the lives of others) and write about an issue that
deeply angered or affected them. Using a weighted vote, students came up
with violence as an issue they found both common across their lives and
deplorable in its social consequences. Their work on that topic was combined
with a domestic violence curriculum that the teacher decided to use and a
3-day retreat on violence prevention organized by the violence-prevention
group Manalive/Womanalive.
In class, the students focused on the causes and consequences of violence
in their lives and in their community. They began by sharing stories of their
own experiences with violence (at home, in their neighborhood, at school).
One student, for example, talked about a shooting incident that she had wit-
nessed several blocks from her house. Another wrote about his experience
with domestic violence in his family. What made this teacher’s approach
unusual, however, was not the focus on violence (many teachers discuss vio-
lence with students in urban classrooms).13 It was the way that she engaged
students in a discussion of social, political, and economic forces that contribute
to violence.
In one classroom activity, students compared demographic data on per
capita income broken down by neighborhood with data on the prevalence
of violent crime, also broken down by neighborhood. Students also explored
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various beliefs about violence expressed by politicians, writers, the media,
and community groups and organizations. At virtually every stage of the cur-
riculum, their own stories and the incidents of violence reported in the media
were examined in relation to broader social, political, and economic forces.
Students used their own and their classmates’ experiences as a means of
exploring ways to prevent violence and promote human rights and social
justice. In another class session, for example, Franconi asked, “What does
violence reveal about what else is going on, and how can we fix it?” The
class then created a reverse flow chart, starting at the bottom where an inci-
dent of domestic violence had occurred and connecting it to events and
forces that might have provoked the violence. One student, Tameka, posited,
“There must have been a lot of tension in the house.” The following exchange
ensued:
Teacher: And what might have led to that much tension?

Keri: Maybe Dad lost his job
Hector: And then he started drinking.
Keri: Maybe there’s no money.
Teacher: We can’t really know, right, but there could be a lot of
pressure on these people right now.
Through this and similar discussions, students focused their thinking on rela-
tionships between structural dynamics and the behavior of individuals.14
Making the Personal Political

At the same time that structural dynamics were examined in relation to indi-
vidual behavior, personal responsibility also received substantial attention.
For example, the retreat that the Bayside students attended on violence pre-
vention taught students to work hard at controlling anger and stressed the
need always to consider the consequences of their actions. Many character
traits of a personally responsible citizen are important to Bayside’s enactment
of the justice-oriented citizen.
However, unlike many other programs that emphasize personal respon-
sibility (like the character education programs we described earlier), Bayside’s
approach did not merely exhort students to adopt certain values or behaviors
such as self-control, honesty, punctuality, and caring for others; it also included
an implicit critique of societal structures and encouraged students to exam-
ine the relationship between those structures and how individuals behave.
Approaches like those used by Nadia Franconi challenge a conservative focus
on personal responsibility without rejecting the basic premise that it is impor-
tant how children and adults behave. These approaches conclude that an indi-
vidual’s character does matter, but that character can best be understood—and
changed—through social analysis and attention to root causes of social injus-
tices. The program seeks to enhance students’ understanding of society rather
than simply giving students a list of values that they are to embrace and behav-
iors that they are magically to adopt.
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Under the Manalive/Womanalive curriculum, Franconi’s students dis-
cussed social, political, and economic factors that reinforce notions that men
are superior to women and that they should enforce that superiority if it is
challenged, with the result that some men turn violent and some women
learn to tolerate men’s violence. Thus, in addition to talking about how to
take greater responsibility for improving their own behavior with respect to
violence and anger, Franconi’s students talked about their own experiences
with violence to better understand and develop strategies to change institu-
tions, structures, or conditions that cause or encourage violent behavior.
Contrasting this curricular approach with the Character Counts! Coalition’s
take on how to avoid violence, it becomes clear how the Bayside program
incorporated important aspects of the personally responsible citizen into its
emphasis on both understanding unjust social contexts and pursuing just ones.
Recall that the Character Counts! Coalition advocates respect, good manners,
dealing peacefully with anger, and so on. Franconi points out the limitations
of this version of personal responsibility for teaching what she considers to be
good citizenship by highlighting what she sees as the simplistic questions and
answers that character education poses. She sees character educators making
fallacious assumptions: “If I were individually responsible, the world would be
a better place. There wouldn’t be racism. There wouldn’t be sexism.” “I think
[being a good person] is lovely, Franconi explains, “[but] you get trained in
these roles” without ever being asked to consider other, larger problems that
are “bigger than the self.”
If there is a lesson to be learned about personal responsibility for
Franconi, it is that the personal is political, that personal experiences and
behavior both result from, and are indicators of, broader political forces. For
Bayside Students for Justice, personal responsibility requires that one study
and seek to change those forces. With this recognition, Franconi is able to
structure a curriculum that promotes citizens who are both personally respon-
sible and justice oriented.
Collective Responsibility for Action

Students in the Bayside program learn not only that individual behavior often
results from societal factors, but also that social change is the product of col-
lective effort. Even before the students started the research and service
aspects of their projects, their teacher noted that, through the process of com-
munity mapping and choosing their topic, students had begun to think of
themselves differently. They had begun to see themselves as part of a youth
community with the potential to transform and improve society to make it
more just. One student put it this way:
[How] can I make a difference? One person with good intentions in a

bad world cannot make a difference. This is what the structure of our
society makes me believe. Yet I know that if I take the stand, others
will follow.
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Consistently, in interviews and written assignments, students demonstrated
their understanding of a collective rather than individual vision for effecting
change. After listening in class to the song “We Who Believe in Freedom,” by
Sweet Honey in the Rock, one young man wrote that “whether the struggle
is big or small it should be everyone’s responsibility together. . . . Movements
are not about me, they’re about us.” Another student—a football player—
observed that there was “a lot of camaraderie on the field, but in the class-
room, it seems like everyone works as an individual to better themselves. In
this class, we’re working as a group to better everything around us.”
Thus, in contrast to programs that seek to teach that “one person can
make a difference,” Bayside students emphasized the need to address social
problems collectively.
The Political Significance of Different Conceptions of Citizenship:

Some Comparisons
Both Madison County Youth in Public Service and Bayside Students for Justice
were effective in achieving goals consistent with their respective underlying
conceptions of citizenship. Yet our qualitative and quantitative data regarding
these programs demonstrate important differences in impact. The Madison pro-
gram appeared to have a powerful impact on students’ capacities for, and com-
mitments to, civic participation. Students could detail the skills they had used
(conducting polls, interviewing officials, making presentations, reading legis-
lation), as well as the knowledge they had gained about how government
works. Survey measures of the students’ sense of personal responsibility to help
others, their vision of how to help, and their leadership efficacy show signifi-
cant changes (see Table 4). Especially notable in both the survey and interview
data was the change in students’ confidence that they had the knowledge or
“social capital” to make things happen in the community. Interviews, observa-
Table 4
Educating for Different Kinds of Citizenship
Change from pretest to posttest
Madison County Bayside

Youth in Public Students
Factors Service for Justice
Personal responsibility to help others .21* .09

Knowledge/social capital for community .94** .17
development
Leadership efficacy .31** .12
Interest in politics .03 .33*
Structural/individual explanations for poverty −.10 .28*
*p < .05. **p < .01
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tions, and examples of student work all reinforced the survey finding of a
dramatic (+.94) increase in students’ sense that they had knowledge of what
resources were available to help with community projects and how to contact
and work effectively with community organizations to mobilize those resources.
This confidence grew out of their involvement in substantive projects that
required frequent interaction with multiple community actors and agencies.
In addition, Madison students spoke extensively during interviews about
the micro-politics and technical challenges associated with their projects.
“I thought there was cooperation amongst the departments,” one Madison
student told us, “but then, the more we got into it, the more I realized Person
One is in charge of A, B, and C, and Person Two is in charge of X, Y, and Z.”
Students were frustrated with various departments that did not work well
together and with what they identified as “turf issues.” Many noted a poor
working relationship between the county and the city.
We did not, however, see evidence that the Madison program sparked
interest in or conveyed knowledge of broad social critiques and systemic
reform. As noted in the discussion of the politics of participatory citizenship,
Madison students tended to downplay or ignore explicitly political or ideo-
logically contentious issues. They were not able to talk about how varied
interests and power relationships or issues of race and social class might be
related to the lack of consensus on priorities and the inability of varied
groups to work effectively together. For example, Mark, a Madison student
explained:
A lot of people have preconceived notions that [community work] is

so political . . . that . . . everything [is] divided between Republicans
and Democrats, [but] people don’t realize that . . . what your political
agenda is doesn’t really matter because when you’re helping out in
the community, you’re not helping a party, you’re helping a person.
Because structural and individual causes of poverty were not discussed as

part of the curriculum, it is not surprising that students’ perspectives on such
issues did not change as a result of their participation. Nor did their interest
in talking about or being involved in politics change.
To a much greater degree, the Bayside students talked about the need
for forms of civic involvement that addressed issues of social justice and
macro-level critique of society. When asked whether violence prevention
programs such as the Manalive/Womanalive retreat could eliminate violence,
Desiree eagerly praised the program but then added:
There’s some things that you see out there, the struggle [when] peo-
ple are trying to do their best but still they’re being brought down by
society, and I think that’s very troublesome.
Other students also emphasized the need to address root causes of problems
such as poverty, governmental neglect, and racism. After telling the class
261

about his cousin who was arrested for carrying a weapon, Derrick wondered
aloud to the class about how best to proceed:
It would be great if nobody had weapons, but where does [the vio-
lence] begin? If the police are discriminating [and] if I can’t get a job,
. . . there’s going to be a lot of anger. . . . The police aren’t going to
act better because [I’m] trying to make my neighborhood better.
And Tamika put it this way: “Lots of people want to be nice, [but] if you don’t
got food for your kids, how nice is that?”
Thus, in comparison with students from Madison, students who took
part in the Bayside Students for Justice curriculum appeared to emphasize
social critique significantly more and technocratic skills associated with par-
ticipation somewhat less. For example, students were more likely at the end
of the program than at the beginning to posit structural explanations for
social problems (stating, for example, that the problem of poverty resulted
from the shortage of jobs that pay wages high enough to support a family
rather than from individuals’ being lazy and not wanting to work). They were
more likely than their Madison peers to be interested in, and want to discuss,
politics and political issues, and they were more likely to seek redress of root
causes of difficult social ills. As one student told us after several months in
the Bayside program, “when the economy’s bad and people start blaming
immigrants or whoever else they can blame, they’ve got to realize that there
are big social, economic, and political issues tied together, that it’s not the
immigrants, no, it’s bigger than them.”
To the extent that Bayside students learned about participatory skills,
they focused on extragovernmental social activism (such as community orga-
nizing or protesting) that challenged existing norms rather than reinforcing
them. Evidence from observations, interviews, student work, and surveys of
Bayside students did not show an increase in students’ knowledge about par-
ticular community resources. Unlike their Madison peers, Bayside students’
sense of being effective community leaders (knowing how to run meetings,
for example) remained unchanged. Nor was there any increase in students’
sense of personal responsibility to help others (as opposed to their inclina-
tion for collective action for change that was frequently expressed during
interviews).
Thus programs that successfully educate for democracy can promote
very different outcomes. Some programs may foster the ability or the com-
mitment to participate, while others may prompt critical analysis that focuses
on macro structural issues, the role of interest groups, power dynamics, and/or
social justice. And these differences often are politically significant. Indeed,
answering the question “Which program better develops citizens?” necessarily
engages the political views that surround varied conceptions of citizenship,
because the question leaves open the definition of a good citizen. Educators
who view civic participation as of primary importance would likely view the
Madison County Youth in Public Service program as extraordinarily effective.
262

Alternatively, those who believe that students should learn how to examine
social structures and deliberate about principles and practices of justice might
prefer that participants in the Madison program couple their community
action with talk about the need for structural change, about methods used
historically to bring change about (those employed by various social move-
ments, for example), or about social injustice.15
The social context and political norms of a given community can also
shape curricular decisions and the impact of curriculum on students. The Bay-
side and Madison programs, for example, were located in very different com-
munities. It may well be that Bayside’s urban school environment exposed
students to more forms of injustice and rhetoric related to injustice than the
Madison students encountered in their largely homogeneous and middle-class
community. The exposure of the Bayside students, in turn, may have made
it more likely that they would gravitate toward justice-oriented themes.16 The
differing political climates certainly influenced the teachers’ options. This was
evident, for example, in the reaction of the Bayside director to the focus on
social critique by Bayside students and other groups (who met three times
during our study to discuss their programs with each other). She told us, “If
my superintendent or board heard me saying what you all are saying, I’d be
fired.” When it comes to politically contentious topics, context matters. The
ways that contexts shape both the constraints placed on teachers and the cur-
riculum’s impact on students clearly deserve extensive study.
Conclusion
Proponents of the democratic purposes of education, especially advocates
of participatory and justice-oriented goals, frequently complain that they are
fighting an uphill battle (Wood, 1993; Cuban & Shipps, 2000; Goodlad, 1979;
Clark & Wasley, 1999). Traditional academic priorities and the current nar-
row emphasis on test scores crowd out other possibilities (Meier, 2000; Nod-
dings, 1999; Ohanian, 2002). Given public schools’ central role in helping to
shape citizens, this conflict clearly is worthy of attention.
But what kind of citizens are the schools trying to shape? As educators
interested in schooling’s civic purposes, we maintain that it is not enough to
argue that democratic values are as important as traditional academic priori-
ties. We must also ask what kind of democratic values. What political and ide-
ological interests are embedded in or easily attached to varied conceptions of
citizenship? Varied priorities—personal responsibility, participatory citizen-
ship and justice-oriented citizenship—embody significantly different beliefs
regarding the capacities and commitments that citizens need for democracy
to flourish; and they carry significantly different implications for pedagogy,
curriculum, evaluation, and educational policy. Moreover, because the ways
that educators advance these visions may privilege some political perspec-
tives regarding the ways problems are framed and responded to, there is a
politics involved in educating for democracy—a politics that deserves careful
attention.
263

Our study of Madison County Youth in Public Service and Bayside Stu-
dents for Justice demonstrates the importance of distinguishing between pro-
grams that emphasize participatory citizenship and those that emphasize the
pursuit of justice. Although each program was effective in achieving its goals,
qualitative and quantitative data regarding the programs demonstrated impor-
tant differences in their impact. The study indicates that programs that cham-
pion participation do not necessarily develop students’ abilities to analyze
and critique root causes of social problems and vice versa (see Kahne, Chi,
& Middaugh, 2003, for a study that comes to a similar conclusion). Although
people who are committed to the democratic purposes of education may
extol the value of linking priorities related to participation and justice, our
study indicates that links between participation and justice not guaranteed.
If both goals are priorities, the people who design and implement curricu-
lum must give explicit attention to both. Similarly, as noted earlier, related
research has found that initiatives that support the development of person-
ally responsible citizens may not be effective in increasing participation in
local or national affairs. In fact, efforts to pursue some conceptions of per-
sonal responsibility appear to further a politically conservative vision of the
role of government and of the need for structural change. Indeed, there are
some indications that curriculum and education policies designed to foster
personal responsibility undermine efforts to prepare both participatory and
justice-oriented citizens.
From the standpoint of research and evaluation, the implications for the
development of democratic values and capacities are significant. Studies that
fail to reflect the varied range of educational priorities in relation to democratic
values and capacities will tell only part of the story. Moreover, because the
desirability of many politically relevant outcomes is tightly tied to one’s politi-
cal preferences, consensus among scholars regarding “right” answers or some-
times even “better” answers to many relevant questions may be hard to achieve.
Knowing, for example, whether a student now places greater emphasis on
recycling or on environmental regulation does not enable us to say that a pro-
gram was effective. However, it does help us understand the program’s effects.
In acknowledging a lack of “right” answers, we do not mean to imply a
sense of neutrality with respect to varied conceptions of democratic values.
Instead, we mean to emphasize that politics and the interests of varied groups
are often deeply embedded in the ways that we conceptualize and study
efforts to educate for democracy. Politics and the interests associated with
the varied conceptions therefore require close attention. We can focus on
whether a given curriculum changes students’ sense of personal responsibil-
ity, government responsibility, or employer responsibility, for example. If we
ask only about personal responsibility (and if discussions of personal respon-
sibility are disconnected from analysis of the social, economic, and political
context), we may well be reinforcing a conservative and often individualistic
notion of citizenship. Yet this is the focus of many programs and of their asso-
ciated evaluations. If citizenship also requires collective participation and crit-
ical analysis of social structures, then other lenses are needed as well.
264

Clearly, highlighting the political significance of curricular choices must
be done with care. Such dialogues may help to clarify what is at stake, but
raising these issues can also lead to dysfunctional stalemates and may deepen
differences rather than prompting more thoughtful inquiry. Yet not all discord
is problematic—when the stakes are high, conflict is both likely and appro-
priate. Indeed, thoughtful analysis requires that those who design curriculum
and those who study its impact be cognizant of and responsive to these
important distinctions and their political implications. The choices we make
have consequences for the kind of society we ultimately help to create.
Notes
This article received the Outstanding Paper of 2003 Award for Research in Social
Studies Education from the American Educational Research Association and the Out-
standing Paper of the Year Award from the Division on Teaching and Learning of the
American Political Science Association. The research was generously supported by grants
from the Surdna Foundation, with additional funding from the Social Sciences and Human-
ities Research Council of Canada. The authors wish to thank Harry Boyte, Pamela Burdman,
Bernadette Chi, Larry Cuban, Jeff Howard, Gordon Lafer, Barbara Leckie, Bethany Rogers,
Robert Sherman, Dorothy Shipps, Jim Toole, and several anonymous reviewers. For help
in structuring Table 1, we are indebted to James Toole and a focus group of Minnesota
teachers. The authors are solely responsible for any and all conclusions.
1 Our desire to respond to prominent educational theories related to democratic ideals
and to develop a framework that practitioners would find both clear and meaningful led
us to modify our categories in several ways. For example, we began this study by empha-
sizing a distinction between “charity” and “change.” We had used this distinction in earlier
writing (Kahne & Westheimer, 1996). Through the course of our work, however, it became
clear that the distinction did not do enough to capture some major currents in the dia-
logues of practitioners and scholars regarding democratic educational goals and ways to
achieve them. In addition, once our three categories were identified, we found that some
of our rhetoric failed to clearly convey our intent. For example, we had initially titled our
third category social reconstructionist. As a result of dialogues with practitioners, this was
changed to social reformer and finally to justice-oriented citizen.
2 We should note here that although adherents to the political philosophy of John
Rawls also use a language of justice, their perspective is different from (though not nec-
essarily in conflict with) what we describe as the justice-oriented citizen. For Rawlsians,
the State’s respect for different conceptions of the good and refusal to endorse particular
conceptions of the good are matters of justice.
3 The strongest proponents of this perspective were likely the Social Reconstruction-
ists, who gained their greatest hearing between the two world wars. Educators such as
Harold Rugg (1921/1996) argued that the teaching of history, in particular, and the school
curriculum, more generally, should be developed in ways that connect with important and
enduring social problems. George Counts (1932) wrote, Dare the School Build a New
Social Order? He wanted educators to critically assess varied social and economic institu-
tions while also “engag[ing] in the positive task of creating a new tradition in American
life” (p. 262). The Social Reconstructionists believed that truly effective citizens needed
opportunities to analyze and understand the interplay of social, economic, and political
forces and to take part in projects through which they might develop skills and commit-
ments for working collectively to improve society.
4 For a discussion of the distinction between indoctrination and education for justice-
oriented citizenship, see Westheimer and Kahne, 2002 and 2003.

5 Moreover, those with libertarian leanings sometimes argue that the practice of civic
virtue and responsible behavior can diminish the need for democratic governance and that
such personal qualities will enable democratic governments to work effectively.
6 Personal responsibility need not be framed in individualistic and conservative terms.
Henry David Thoreau, for example, conceptualized personal responsibility in ways that
265

were not conservative. And one could also imagine visions of personal responsibility that
embodied commitments to collective action. However, as put forward in most current pub-
lic discussions related to citizenship, the focus is conservative and individualistic in that it
emphasizes charity, personal morality, and the efforts of individuals rather than working
to alter institutional structures through collective action.
7
We highlight these two programs because, of the four high school programs in the
sample, these two were the most clearly aligned with the two perspectives that we wished
to investigate (participatory and justice-oriented). The other two high school programs,
although compelling for several reasons, embraced a broader and less specific demo-
cratic vision.
8 During the 2nd year of our study, we also administered pre and post surveys to two
control classrooms from the Madison program. These classrooms were also 12th-grade
government classrooms, served students of similar academic ability, and were taught by
the same two teachers. An appropriate control classroom was not available in the case of
Bayside.
9 For a discussion of the 1st-year experience and findings, see Kahne and Westheimer,
in press.
10 As an indicator of personal responsibility, we used a scale named “Personal respon-
sibility to help others.” It included items that measured students’ individual commitments
to recycle, for example. Our measure of participatory citizenship was called “Commitment
to community involvement.” We also had three scales related to social justice: One assessed
students’ interest in political affairs, another assessed students’ understanding of “structural
vs. individual explanations for poverty,” and a third assessed students’ desire to work toward
justice by, for example, examining root causes of problems and legislation or social poli-
cies that perpetuate injustice.
Our measures of commitment to community involvement, personal responsibility,
volunteering, and vision, were adapted from the National Learning Through Service Sur-
vey developed by the Search Institute. Some of those measures, in turn, were adapted
from instruments developed by Dan Conrad and Diane Hedin (see Instruments and Scor-
ing Guide of the Experiential Education Evaluation Project, 1981, Center for Youth Devel-
opment and Research, University of Minnesota, St. Paul). Items related to social capital
and leadership efficacy draw on a leadership measure developed for the Community Ser-
vice Leadership Workshop (contact Jim Seiber, Issaquah School District 411, Issaquah, WA
98027). For a list of all items associated with each scale, please contact the authors.
11 The descriptions that follow were captured from field notes and audiotapes. The
quotations are verbatim. The names of schools, students, and teachers are pseudonyms.
12 In one case, for our measure of civic efficacy, we did not find a statistically sig-
nificant difference (p = .22). Thus, although our data indicate statistically significant gains
in civic efficacy for students who experienced the Madison curriculum, it is not clear
that those changes were different from those experienced by students in the control
classrooms.
13
Students in the Bayside program also expressed skepticism of corporate-sponsored
civic initiatives (Coca Cola’s sponsoring of Earth Day activities, for example, or Phillip
Morris initiatives to “build our communities”). In interviews, they reported that, in general,
it was unwise to count on businesses to set the tone for improving communities or solving
difficult problems that do not have “making money” or advertising as a goal. A number of
classroom discussions also focused on the differences between political or legislative
approaches to environmental regulations and those voluntarily promoted by private
corporations.
14
The distinctions that we draw between participatory and justice-oriented citizenship
assume a predisposition to the basic mechanics of legislative democracy common to many
school-based programs. For example, the Bayside Students for Justice curriculum takes
seriously the notion that critical analysis can be fruitful only in a democratic culture. To
teach the fundamentals of the democratic process, Franconi had her students engage in
exercises such as planning a class party by the same means that Congress uses to pass a
bill. Madison teachers conducted similar activities.
15 From responses on our pretest surveys, we know that youth in the two communi-
ties started in different places on several relevant measures. As detailed in Tables 2 and 3,
for example, Bayside students were far more likely to offer structural explanations for
266

poverty than Madison youth, and Madison youth were much more likely to express con-
fidence in their knowledge related to community development. What is particularly inter-
esting about our posttest survey results is that they demonstrate that, beyond these initial
differences, Bayside’s curriculum led students to support structural explanations even
more strongly, and Madison’s curriculum led to students to hold even greater confidence
in their knowledge related to community development.
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American Educational Research Journal

What Kind of Citizen? The Politics of Educating for Democracy

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American Educational Research Association

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What Kind of Citizen?

Educators and policymakers increasingly pursue programs that aim to

KEYWORDS: character, citizenship, civic education, democracy, politics.

T he notion of democracy occupies a privileged place in U.S. society. Every-

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What Kind of Citizen?

JOEL WESTHEIMER is a Professor of Education and University Research Chair at

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Three Kinds of Citizens

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Personally responsible citizen Participatory citizen Justice-oriented citizen

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The Personally Responsible Citizen

The Participatory Citizen

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The Justice-Oriented Citizen

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The Limits of Personal Responsibility

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Measures and Analysis

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Developing Participatory Citizens:

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Making Civic Education Meaningful

I learned more by doing this than I would just sitting in a class-

Teresa, another student, said,

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I thought it was just going be another project. You know, we do some

By engaging students in projects in the community, Madison County Youth in

Making a Difference in the Lives of Others

Everyone needs to do their part if they want something to be done. . . .

Students also reported excitement at the prospect of getting involved in ways

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A Vision of What to Do and the Knowledge and Skills Needed to Do It

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*p < .05. **p < .01.

The Politics of Participatory Citizenship

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Developing Justice-Oriented Citizens: Bayside Students for Justice

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Factors (Cronbach’s alpha Significance Number of

Personal responsibility to .09 3.84 3.94 .60 21

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Critical and Structural Social Analysis

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Teacher: And what might have led to that much tension?

Making the Personal Political