Abstract
This article extends Scandrett et al.’s conceptual framework for social movement learning to understand learning and knowledge creation in the climate justice movement. Drawing on radical pluralist theoretical approaches to social movement learning, learning in the climate justice movement is conceptualized at the micro, meso, and macro levels, along two continua of (a) unorganized and organized learning and (b) individual and collective learning. Two critical themes of learning about power and learning about place are used as examples to illustrate learning across the three levels. Article conclusions discuss strengths and limitations of the conceptual framework and directions for further research to better understand adult learning within the climate justice movement.
Keywords
Introduction
The study of adult learning in social movements has comprised a rich and vibrant area of theorizing and research in adult education for several decades (Finger, 1989; Foley, 1999; Hall, 2006; Hall, Clover, Crowther, & Scandrett, 2013; Hall & Turray, 2006; Holst, 2002). Some of the first theorizing on social movement learning (SML) appeared in the Adult Education Quarterly (AEQ), starting in the late 1980s. This early work debated the nature of “Old” versus “New” social movements as learning sites (Finger, 1989; Spencer, 1995; Welton, 1993) and learning, cognitive theory and the creation of knowledge in social movements (Holford, 1995), respectively. Theorizing of SML has continued to be taken up in other adult education literature over the past two decades as well (Clover, 2002; Hall, 2009; Hill, 2003; Holst, 2018; Kapoor, 2013; Kilgore, 1999; Ollis, 2012; Scandrett et al., 2010; Zielińska, Kowzan, & Prusinowska, 2011).
Scholarship on SML published in AEQ, and in the field at large, has focused primarily on new social movements (feminist; environmental; gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer; and identity movements) as opposed to old social movements (labor and trade union, workers’ parties). AEQ studies include research on antiracist feminist learning in social struggles (Gouin, 2009), gendered SML in cyberspace (Irving & English, 2011), identity formation and SML in the voluntary simplicity movement (Sandlin & Walther, 2009), and feminist activism and SML in environmental protest (Walter, 2007a). Again, these AEQ research streams were echoed and expanded in a wider SML literature in adult education, encompassing studies of adult learning in the disability rights movement (Church et al., 2016), poor people’s movements (Hamilton, 2016), the Occupy Movement (Hall, 2012), Indigenous Peoples’ movements (Prasant & Kapoor, 2010), the food movement (Etmanski, 2012; Sumner, 2016; Walter, 2013b), and the feminist movement (Butterwick & Elfert, 2014; Clover, 2005; Clover & Stalker, 2008). A growing body of research also exists on the environmental movement as a site of adult learning (Branagan & Boughton, 2003; Foley, 1999; Hall, 2006; Lowan-Trudeau, 2017; Ollis & Hamel-Green, 2015; Walter, 2007a, 2007b), with at least two studies on the environmental justice movement in particular (Crowther, Hemmi, & Scandrett, 2012; Scandrett et al., 2010).
Most of this work on adult learning in social movements, in keeping with the “cultural turn” in the sociology of new social movements, has adopted radical pluralist theoretical frames to understand adult learning in these movements, rather than the Marxist–Leninist theoretical frames used to analyze the older workers’ movements (Holst, 2002). As Holst (2018), Torres (2011), and others have argued, predominant conceptualizing about adult education and social change has in many ways now shifted from “radical adult education” to “SML” much in the same manner as lifelong education has shifted to lifelong learning, reflecting the rise of neoliberal market ideologies not only in mainstream adult education (see, e.g., Barros, 2012) but also in radical adult education (Holst, 2018). Thus, as Holst (2018) explains, “The state is downplayed as a potential progressive agent of change in favour of a vaguely defined civil society; non-governmental organizations (NGOs) are favoured over political parties as the most viable organizations for social change-oriented educational work” (p. 81). Moreover, social class “is seen as just one more form of identity to be added to theories of intersectionality or multidimensional identity formations” (Holst, 2018, p. 81).
Other scholars, such as Gouin (2009), working from an antiracist feminist theoretical perspective, have called for an intersectional analysis of SML, arguing for the framing of SML through a “race-and gender-conscious historical materialism” which politicizes people’s experience and their learning, rather than using “anticapitalist struggle as the defining leitmotiv” (p. 172). That is, Gouin (2009) maintains that the anticapitalist struggle should not be privileged over an analysis of patriarchy, heteronormativity, and White supremacy, but seen as one of many interlocking forms of oppression shaping SML. Closson (2010) further emphasizes how the analytical lens of critical race theory (CRT) can be used to understand how endemic systemic racism and White privilege has been enacted historically and persists in adult learning and education. CRT challenges the “experience of whites as the normative standard and grounds its conceptual framework in the distinctive experiences of people of color,” and eschews “the Black-White binary that has characterized American racial discourse” (Taylor, 1998, quoted in Closson, 2010, p. 264, p. 262).
Still other scholars, such as Carpenter (2012), operating from the premise of dialectical historical materialism, argue that “Marxist-feminist theory offers a radically different articulation of difference and experience than CRT or Feminist arguments around of ‘interlocking’ or ‘intersecting’ forms of oppression” (p. 21). That is, “ . . . sexism, racism, and others forms of difference (are) social practices historically specific to capitalism and, thus, dialectically determined with modes of consciousness that are historically specific as well” (p. 22). As Carpenter and Mojab (2011) argue, however, “Marxism and feminism are not incompatible theoretical and ethical modes of analysis,” (p. 14) but can be used to analyze, within imperialist and capitalist social relations, how the “sites and practices of adult education and learning can exhibit the inner relations and dimensions of capitalism as a racialized and gendered social practice, and not simply examine these issues as the effects of capitalist social relations” (p. 15).
Finally, numerous Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars maintain that Indigenous decolonizing lenses (Kirkness, 1998; Smith, 2012), ignored in critical education theory and “Whitestream Feminism and the Colonialist Project” (Grande, 2004), should be applied to an analysis of adult learning, education, and social struggle. The Indigenous and Indigenísta ontologies and epistemologies on which these decolonizing frameworks rest long predate Marxist, feminist, or any other forms of Western theorizing, and are particularly important to the analysis of SML in the environmental and climate justice movements for their critique of colonization and the human–earth dichotomy (Haig-Brown, 2009; LaDuke, 2005; Styres, Haig-Brown, & Blimkie, 2013), among other things. As Grande (2004, p. 7) puts it as follows: . . . while critical theorists account for the state of the environment as an extension of social justice issues, the Western human–nature dichotomy is ultimately retained. In contrast, indigenous pedagogies tend to dispense of the human–nature dichotomy and construct nature as a sovereign entity in symbiotic relationship with human subjectivity. Consequently, I argue that as long as the political project of critical education fails to theorize the interrelationship between human consumption, capitalist exploitation, and the struggle for “democracy,” it will fail to provide emancipatory pedagogies that are sustainable and pertinent for the global age.
In this article, we position ourselves within radical pluralist SML scholarship in adult education. However, we further understand that in many ways there is a false dichotomy between old and new social movements, as Holst (2018) has persuasively argued, and that modes of analysis associated with each type can in fact be analytically compatible, just as feminist, CRT and Marxist may find common cause. Thus, in our analysis, we do not hold for the primacy of identity or social class, nor the unique positionality of race, gender, Indigeneity, or other axes of oppression. As such, we do not subscribe in particular to a democratic–socialist (Brookfield & Holst, 2010), Marxist–feminist (Carpenter, 2012; Carpenter & Mojab, 2011), CRT (Closson, 2010), antiracist feminist (Gouin, 2009), nor Indigenous decolonizing theoretical perspective. Instead, we employ elements of these different theoretical traditions to conceptualize SML as these theories help us understand how larger structures of global capitalism, patriarchy, racism and colonialism shape the contexts, processes and possibilities of adult learning in the climate justice movement, as well as whose learning, knowledge and ideologies are privileged, and what interests are served.
The first section of the article introduces the climate justice movement as our site of inquiry. Building on Scandrett et al.’s (2010) work, we then develop an expanded conceptual framework for the different levels and types of learning taking place within social movements, focusing on the climate justice movement. We make reference to scholarship on transformative learning (Mezirow, 2006); specifically, in its application to the making of environmental activists (Kovan & Dirkx, 2003; Walter, 2013a). We take activists to mean all persons participating and learning within a social movement, but not members of the general public outside the movement who might also be learning from it incidentally (Hall, 2009). Finally, we provide examples of knowledge created within the climate justice movement across the three levels of learning. The article concludes with a discussion of the strengths and limitations of our conceptual framework in light of the SML theory and research literature outlined above, and implications of the study.
Climate Justice Movement
The climate justice movement was born of frustrations with stalled action and ineffectual solutions on climate change. In many ways, the climate justice movement may be understood as an addition to, or extension of, environmental justice perspectives (Crowther et al., 2012; Hill, 2003; Schlosberg & Collins, 2014). At the center of the movement is the idea that climate change should be fused with social justice concerns, including civil rights and economic, Indigenous and gender justice, and that climate change disproportionately affects marginalized communities who have unequal representation in global, national, and local decision-making processes. Since its initial conception, the climate justice movement has also argued for ecological justice and the rights of the earth, with an overarching focus on keeping fossil fuels in the ground (Schlosberg & Collins, 2014). In other words, climate justice means “moving to a post-carbon energy system, paying for the ecological and social damage of climate change, and protecting the voice and sovereignty of the most vulnerable” (Schlosberg & Collins, 2014, p. 367).
The foundation of the movement is often traced back to Climate Justice Now! An international network of nongovernmental organizations and activists, who in 2007 asserted four core climate action principles: (a) those who have benefited most from economic growth should be responsible for reducing greenhouse gas emissions and funding renewable energy, (b) natural resources should be distributed fairly, (c) there should be equal participation in decision making, and (d) those who are suffering the worst effects of climate change should be compensated (Koukouzelis, 2017). After 2007, the climate justice movement gained momentum from frustrations with the Copenhagen Accord in 2009, which largely “delivered business-as-usual climate politics, biased towards fossil-fuel capital, heavy industry, the transport sector and overconsumers” (Bond & Dorsey, 2010, p. 287; Chatterton, Featherstone, & Routledge, 2013). Growing impatient with slow change, bias toward those profiting from the carbon economy, and the formidable task of global reform, many civil society organizations and activists began to shift away from an international focus and take up local, direct actions to mobilize support and effect change on the national level. The shift from the global to the local has pulled together an array of environmental justice, social justice, and ecojustice protests, uniting them under the banner of climate justice (Hadden, 2014; Nulman, 2015). Local issues have become symbolic fights against global warming, as they are tied together in the transnational movement, much like the global–local connections the antiglobalization and anticapitalism movements have made in the past. No longer limited to protests and lobbying for solutions in the international space, climate justice struggles are being taken up in contexts as diverse as the agriculture sector, the meat and dairy industry, urban planning processes, green jobs initiatives, the transportation sector, health and safety initiatives, community energy projects, natural resource protection, as well as direct challenges to the fossil fuel industry through protest against the exploration, extraction, and expansion of fossil fuels (Bond & Dorsey, 2010).
The climate justice movement, like many social movements, has become quite complex in its multi-issue, multiactor nature. Throughout the process of growing and changing, the movement has become a loose network of individuals, activists, NGOs and organizations from anticapitalism, antiglobalization, environmental, and Indigenous movements in both the global North and South. In its complex nature, it is difficult to know what will be achieved in the social movement around climate change. As Hall (2006) notes, what comes out of social movements is largely dependent on what actors bring to movements and what they derive from them. For Adult Education, what and how people learn within a movement is therefore especially important to understand. Approaching the climate justice movement through the lens of SML can help answer these questions, as well as the larger question of what effect the social movement will potentially have on action toward climate change. It will also provide directions for educative-activism (Clover, 2002) in this and other movements. To this end, the next section of the article outlines a conceptual framework for SML, with reference to adult learning in the environmental and climate justice movements.
Framing Social Movement Learning
Social movements are “pedagogical spaces for adults to learn to transform their lives and the structures around them” (Hall, 2004, p. 190). Social movements lead to social and political transformation because they not only critique society but also propose and enact new alternatives through individual and collective learning, knowledge generation, and social action (Clover, 2002; Ollis & Hamel-Green, 2015). Yet how does this learning, knowledge generation, and social action happen? How can these processes be theorized? In this section, we examine various theoretical frames commonly used in conceptualizing SML in adult education, and with the addition of Indigenous decolonizing perspectives, expand on Scandrett et al.’s (2010) conceptual framework for the types of learning taking place at different levels within social movements, using the climate justice movement as an example.
From radical pluralist theoretical frames and the sociology of new social movements (Holst, 2002; Mayo, 2005), we understand social movements in part as identity movements through which both individuals and the collective engage in cognitive praxis (Holford, 1995; Kilgore, 1999) to learn new identities, create new knowledge and take action for social change. We understand SML learning processes to be complex, dynamic, and “messy” processes which constantly shift from the individual to the collective and back again, and are dependent on specific social, cultural, and historical contexts: movements may wax and wane, shift focus and geographical space; individuals may have greater or lesser commitment to movements over time, causes, and place, as their adult lives, identities, and concerns shift.
Second, we believe that Marxist “Old Social Movement” theoretical frames (elaborated by Holst, 2002, 2018) help capture adult learning in social movements which occurs through the lived experience of repression by the state, and of the ideological hegemony and material practices of a deeply imbricated global corporate capitalism and ruling social classes (we take this to mean the “1%” or 5% of the mega rich and associated power structures). We understand the violence of state repression, and corporate and class hegemony to be real in both physical and symbolic terms, and to provoke conscientization, transformative learning, identity change, and activism for both individuals and the collective, as can the experience of patriarchy, racism, sexism, homophobia, dispossession of land, extreme economic inequality, and other oppressions (Etmanski, 2012; Hall, 2012; Hamilton, 2016; Hill, 2003; Lowan-Trudeau, 2017; Walter, 2007a, 2007b). In Freirian and feminist terms, we understand conscientization, transformative learning and educative-activism to happen across these various oppressions and associated social movements (Butterwick & Elfert, 2014; Clover, 2002; Irving, & English, 2011).
Third, we see CRT (Closson, 2010), Marxist–feminist (Carpenter, 2012), and antiracist feminist (Gouin, 2009) lenses as sensitizing our analysis both to the historical legacies of oppression and the social movements which today struggle against oppression (labor; poor people’s; Occupy; civil rights; Black Lives Matter; Idle No More; Latinx; feminist; gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer; disability rights, Indigenous, environmental, and climate justice movements), and to the positionality and perspectives of racialized minorities, women, poor people, and other marginalized adults. Following Gouin (2009), we understand intersectional and interlocking oppressions (capitalism, colonialism, imperialism, fascism, patriarchy, heteronormativity, White Supremacy) to operate in the social relations, sites and practices of SML. We do not believe these are specific to any one system of oppression; that is, not solely due to capitalist social relations (Carpenter, 2012; Carpenter & Mojab, 2011), nor White supremacy (Closson, 2010) nor patriarchy, but expressed as overlapping forms of oppression, both historically and in contemporary society. This is not to say we do not look for the historical roots and legacies of oppression in the material conditions and relations of capitalism; only that we understand that the experiences of women, racialized minorities, poor people, and other oppressed peoples may possess a vital historical, existential, agential, and structural narrative of their own, both inside and outside of capitalist relations.
Finally, following Indigenous decolonizing theoretical lenses, we take linear conceptions of time, the historical evolution of human society, and the primacy of the human species on earth as open to question. In considering the climate justice movement in particular, we adopt a certain humility as non-Indigenous scholars, appreciating that even as multigenerational immigrants, we are only relatively recent arrivals to “North America,” and that we are still enacting the genocidal legacies of settler-colonialism, whether we are conscious of these, and whether we see ourselves as responsible (much in same manner as Whites taking responsibility today for the legacy of slavery and enslaved African Americans, whether our particular foreparents engaged in the enslavement of others themselves; or men being responsible for the oppression of women under patriarchy, and so on). As such, we look to the decolonizing theoretical work of Indigenous scholars such as Sandy Grande (2004), Winona LaDuke (2005), Linda (Tuwai) Smith (2012), Greg Cajete (1994), and Verna Kirkness (1998) for guidance in understanding the importance of “place” in the climate justice movement. By “place,” we mean “the land,” “Mother Earth,” and “all our relations;” that is, all that is threatened and consumed by corporate capitalism and the power of the state: the earth, land communities, forests, rivers, mountains, oceans, open fields, seashores, bays and tribunes, wildlife, and shells—the unending, uncountable natural richness of our planet. We further understand that place also means identity, spiritual, and material sustenance, “home” and even survival for many adults—Indigenous and otherwise—involved in social movements, and is thus central to learning and social action as well. That is, place and “all our relations” (human and nonhuman) have affective, material, spiritual, and transformative power for adult learning—they can shift our understanding toward more ecocentric (or Indigenous) epistemologies, views of ourselves and ways of being in the world, both individually and collectively.
We now draw on these four theoretical perspectives to develop Scandrett et al.’s (2010) conceptual framework for learning in social movements at the micro, meso, and macro levels. This conception differentiates between individual–interactive learning at the micro level, reframing or reorientation at the meso level, and cultural–ideological change at the macro level. Using examples from the climate justice movement, the following discussion builds on Scandrett et al.’s (2010) conceptualization of types of SML as organized or unorganized, as well as individual or collective across the three levels (Table 1). We then discuss two critical types of knowledge generated across the levels of learning in climate justice; namely, power and place.
Levels of Analysis in Social Movement Learning.
The micro level includes learning on the individual level, which takes place as individuals learn new skills or knowledge and gain understanding through self-directed inquiry and interaction within a movement. At all levels, learning may be positioned along a continuum of unorganized to organized. For example, at the micro level, climate justice activists learn about issues informally through self-directed learning such as reading about the impacts of fossil fuel extraction or expansion, researching climate politics and policies, or reading materials related to a specific environmental, ecological, or social issue. Learning may also take place as individuals observe or experience their surroundings. For example, activists may feel a connection to a cause after visiting a forest, ocean, river, or personally observing an ecosystem that is in the path of a planned fossil fuel project (i.e., a “place”). They may learn a seriousness of purpose after watching violence against the earth, individuals, or their communities. Learning may also be of a more social nature as activists learn through conversations with other activists at protest events or talk to experts who are better informed within the movement. Furthermore, individual learning may be intentional or organized when individuals participate in workshops by NGOs or protest organizers, or undergo training on topics like legal rights or taking direct-action. On the micro level, new knowledge is generated through a process of cognitive praxis for both individuals and the collective (Holford, 1995).
The meso level, on the other hand, refers to learning that takes place as individuals analyze their individual learning within the wider context of the collective, taking into account their experiences and the experiences of others around them. By understanding others’ experiences in relation to one’s own, a reframing can take place that has the power to shift an individual’s world view. The reframing of individual worldview, may be understood as transformative learning (Mezirow, 2006), where activists undergo a perspective transformation that involves a more critical understanding of their own assumptions and beliefs (Kovan & Dirkx, 2003; Walter, 2013a). On the meso level, this critical reflection is dialogically tested or validated through interactions with others in the movement (Kilgore, 1999). This learning may take place across lines of race, gender, ethnicity, social class, Indigeneity, and so on, pointing to the necessity of intersectional analyses of historic and contemporary systems and relations of power and privilege in learning at this level. Participation in the movement introduces activists to ways of taking action on their critical reflections and provides them with a sense of empowerment. As a result, activists may take on new “environmental justice,” “Indigenous rights” or other worldviews (Scandrett et al., 2010).
Collective learning on the meso level may also be understood in relation to the group. As individuals experience identity transformation, the movement is also constructing a collective identity. While an individual identity is supported and shaped by the group in the transformative learning process, at the same time, individual identities are linked or aligned with a collective identity, helping the collective identity take shape (Snow, 2001). Collective identity is constructed as activists interact and negotiate with one another to define the means, ends, and field of the movement’s social action (Melucci, 1995). This process produces a sense of “we-ness” or solidarity as activists feel an emotional connection to a cause. A part of this “we-ness” is a sense of “collective agency”—the active part of collective identity that encourages collective action toward agreed on goals (Melucci, 1995; Snow, 2001). This process of collective identity formation relies on, and creates opportunities for, collective learning (Kilgore, 1999).
Collective learning occurs through unorganized means as activists begin to compare their experiences with those around them through dialogue at protests or rallies, conversations over meals in protest camps, or in discussion at community forums. Learning may also be more organized. For example, activists may collectively discuss and compose a statement of intention, a call to action, rules, or a charter that fits with their collective orientation and goals. They may outline strategies or design campaigns consistent with their emerging collective identity. A since of “we-ness” or collective identity may also be influenced by place. People may be pulled together by an emotional response to the natural beauty of a place they are trying to protect, or their reliance on the natural world for their livelihoods, for instance, fighting pipelines to protect fish populations or sea life that would be put at risk by oil spills. In this way, the natural world and nonhuman actors become part of a movement’s collective identity. This collective learning and identity formation on the meso level subsequently affects learning on the macro level as collective learning continues.
The macro level is concerned with the way the world outside of the movement operates and how power is structured between classes and groups (Scandrett et al., 2010). At this level, new paradigms that were formed on the meso level are in a process of constant negotiation with the power structures outside of the movement. This negotiation happens through continued interaction with allies of the movement, as well as through conflicts with adversaries (Scandrett et al., 2010). For example, collective macro-level learning takes place as activists interact with allies in other movements, academic institutions, government bodies, and civil society organizations who support their cause. Interaction with the media and general public may also be a significant site of learning as movements learn to present themselves and frame their cause in a way that achieves their goals in a specific culture or political climate. Furthermore, learning takes place as activists interact with perceived “enemies” such as the police in direct-action events, government institutions, and oil and gas corporations, among others. This learning may take on a more organized nature as groups of activists take legal action against corporations, collectively compose statements of protest to government bodies, or organize divestment initiatives targeting banks and institutions that support fossil fuel projects. Lessons learned on the macro level are “cultural–ideological” in that they unearth the hegemonic structures of society and are concerned with how change may take place outside of the movement (Scandrett et al., 2010, p. 137). Macro-level learning may be understood as environmental, class, gender, race, Indigenous, or other forms of collective conscientization, through which communities collectively recognize the power structures that dictate their lives and livelihoods, culture and community, as well as the health of the natural environment, and from this critical consciousness then take action (Clover, 2002).
In Table 1, these levels of learning are laid out linearly to clearly present examples and provide an understanding of how these levels build on one another. However, it is important to note that learning is simultaneously occurring on all three levels, and levels may be better thought of as constitutive of one another than linear. Individual development and learning on the micro level affects the group, group learning, and development effects individual learning, and all learning is affected by the social, cultural, political, and physical context in which the social action is unfolding (Kilgore, 1999). The cyclical nature of SML illustrates this. Macro-level learning, while dependent on micro- and meso-level learning, may also affect the learning that occurs at both of these levels. For example, after learning from interaction with allies and enemies on the macro level, a social movement may revise the means and ends of social action. If, for instance, a group of social actors calls on the state for an environmental affect assessment for a new fossil fuel infrastructure project, and the call for assessment is ignored as the state grants a corporate actor approval, a social movement may reconsider its strategies. In reaction, future micro-level learning may entail more conversations about corporate power, involve more research into legal avenues for action, or encourage research into areas such as corporate campaign contributions made to the political leadership with the power to make decisions on projects. On the meso level, alternative means of action may be discussed such as focusing on exposing power and money in addition to directly fighting environmental degradation, and organizational mandates may be altered accordingly. Anticapitalist leanings may emerge in what once was a more environmentally oriented collective identity, reshaping objectives, and strategies of action. In other words, learning on the macro level can reshape the learning that takes place on the micro and meso levels, just as micro- and meso-level learning provide a foundation for macro-level learning. All of the levels of learning are dependent on and constitutive of one another.
Within the climate justice movement, there are many types of knowledge generated across the levels of learning. Two that are most directly evident are power and place. At the micro level, individuals gain new critical knowledge about the issues, actors and relations of power in protest movements. For example, individuals learn which actors benefit and lose in the construction of oil pipelines and how; what vested interests large oil, construction, and shipping corporations have, how different levels of government, politicians, communities, and groups are invested in or opposed to a fossil fuel project; what legal rights local people have to make decisions about pipeline construction; and what rights and power are denied them. Knowledge learned may also be more abstract and existential: Do corporate capitalism, consumerism, and huge inequalities of wealth and power comprise a natural state of affairs? What are the alternatives? And so on. At the meso level, knowledge gained is reflected on, internalized and acted on as individuals reframe their identities to encompass wider worldviews. Power here comes from a sense of individual “empowerment” through transformative learning and a decolonizing of the mind, wherein new identifies are formed and shaped by new understandings, a new sense of belonging to the collective, and by emotionally charged, bodily experiences of social action. Learning on the macro level involves the idea that “change is possible;” that a movement has the power to shift hegemonic alliances, liberate oppressed groups and challenge social inequalities (Scandrett et al., 2010), as well as shift power balances to protect the earth and repair human and nonhuman relations.
Finally, in the environmental and climate justice movements, learning from place, from the land, from human and nonhuman sociomaterial assemblages, from nonhuman “relations” (wildlife, mountains, oceans, ecosystems, trees, etc.) also cuts across all three levels, as adults acquire new earth-centered literacies of seeing, listening, feeling, acting, and being (Kovan & Dirkx, 2003; Walter, 2007a, 2007b, 2013a). These are, akin to long-standing Indigenous ways of knowing, being and acting (Grande, 2004; LaDuke, 2005; Styres et al., 2013). At the micro level, adults may gain new cognitive understandings of humans’ place among other entities in local, regional, and planetary ecosystems, the impact of human activity on these ecosystems and their constituent parts, and possible solutions to specific environmental problems. At the meso level, adults may gain a personal and collective sense of belonging to and understanding of the earth existing outside of human society and outside of positivist knowledge. Their identities may be transformed by the love of a particular physical place and their desire to protect it from environmental harm. At the macro level, individual identities merge with a collective “earth identity” involving a shared understanding of interconnection and interdependence with all other human and nonhuman beings. Social action is then taken to protect not only the rights of humans (environmental justice) but also the rights of the land, wildlife, water, and so on (earth justice). That is, human and nonhuman assemblages not only teach but also become an integral, nonremovable part of human collective and individual learning and identity at this level.
Discussion
The conceptual framework we have discussed above furthers understanding of how SML may be conceptualized. It demonstrates how radical pluralist understandings belonging to new social movement theory, as well as class consciousness and awareness of power structures gained through Old Social Movement theory, is helpful to understand SML in the climate justice movement where multiple social, environmental, class, ecological, and Indigenous issues are taken up together. Furthermore, our analysis shows the importance of decolonizing Indigenous lenses to understanding adult learning in social movements, specifically within local environmental justice protests where social justice, environmental justice, and ecojustice cannot be understood apart from each other or apart from the place where protests are taking place.
There are, however, limitations to the conceptual framework. For one, the levels of learning outlined are perhaps more fluid and complex than implied. Approaching social movements as identity movements where individuals engage in cognitive praxis, create and test out new identities, and take action for social change, it must be acknowledged that identity formation is a complex process and not easily explained through a progression of steps or levels. For instance, while we talk of identity formation or transformative learning on the meso level, this is a process that starts with cognitive praxis on the individual level and is often completed or reinforced by collective action on the macro level. Identity formation on the meso level may only occur after repeatedly revisiting micro-level learning over an extended period of time. In light of this, it would be important to gain a better understanding of the relationship between levels of learning. Furthermore, our examples highlight times when learning was successful; in reality, learning across the three levels may not always be easy or positive. For example, what happens on the meso level if collective learning divides, rather than unifies activists? If a movement is unable to create a shared identity on the meso level, how does this affect learning on the macro level? Another area that would be valuable to explore, then, is the tension among levels of learning and what implications these might have for the success of learning in a movement.
Furthermore, our conceptual framework could be theorized more substantively. It would be beneficial to consider the types of activist learners participating in the movement. For example, Ollis (2012) differentiates between two different types of learners: the circumstantial activist who has become involved in a movement due to a crisis or specific issue, and learns quite quickly and intensely out of necessity; and the lifelong activist who builds skills and knowledge over a long period of time after being introduced to activism early on. Learners may also be understood according to their positioning at the core or periphery of the movement with regard to both physical location and degree of participation. Additionally, within the climate justice movement, specifically when studying Indigenous led protests, learning may differ among Indigenous and non-Indigenous activists. The climate justice movement, like any social movement, is composed of a variety of learners and relationships, and these have implications for both individual and collective learning.
Despite these limitations, the analysis illustrates how learning changes from being individual-focused on the micro level to changes in worldview on the meso level, and the implications this has for cultural–ideological learning on the macro level within the climate justice movement and beyond. Ultimately, understanding learning taking place within the movement can provide a more informed basis for educative-activism, and help activists and others work toward making a better world, for both humans and nonhumans alike.
