Veronica

“[My school] feels like a prison, to tell you the truth. ’Cuz you have to stay in the classroom, use the bathroom when they tell us, eat lunch when they tell us, it’s like a jail…. That’s why kids act bad. They feel like they trapped in here.[20] Dewayne’s observation echoes a point made by Foucault in his classic Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, which you’ll remember from chapter 4. Through practices like those Dewayne describes, the human being becomes less a spirit animated by agency and more a “body as object and target of power,” a thing to be “manipulated, shaped, trained, which obeys [and] responds.”[21] In his everyday interactions in the building, Dewayne is reminded that his body is not his own. Necessary human functions like eating and using the bathroom can only be conducted with the approval and surveillance of those in a position of authority. Through these efforts, students are transformed into what Foucault calls “docile bodies”—bodies that can be “subjected, used, transformed, and improved” in ways that are endorsed by those in power. This process requires “uninterrupted, constant coercion, supervising the processes of the activity rather than its result”—think of students completing meaningless busywork where the quality of the outcome is of no consequence, only the fact that they are sitting still and doing it—“and is exercised according to a codification that partitions as closely as possible time, space, movement.”[22]”
― Eve L. Ewing, Original Sins: The (Mis)education of Black and Native Children and the Construction of American Racism