Both my sons probably could have been diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder in their youth. Their typical reaction to being told "Don't do X" was to PROMPTLY do X.
My oldest nearly got himself killed at age two because of this trait. His father and I were walking to the grocery store with him and we had him between the two of us and we each held one of his hands and I told him to not run out into the street by himself.
So he immediately pulls free from both of us and dashes out into the street. He came so close to being run over by a car, he smacked his little finger on a passing car which hurt badly enough he never did it again.
I was high pregnant with his younger brother and this was one of the worst moments of my parenting experiences. After that, I found other things to say than "Don't do X."
I talked about how Y worked better than X or cracked jokes like "If you get yourself killed doing X, I'm punishing you for it." They would laugh and start talking about the afterlife and forget all about X.
Rather than try to control my children, I typically tried to provide them options to choose from such that I would be okay with whatever they decided and I tried to inform and educate them and add useful information to their decision-making process so they made better decisions than running out into traffic because mom said "Don't."
I tried to keep the pantry stocked with healthy options and mostly let them decide when to eat and what to eat.
It was rare for me to dictate "You will do X." and typically reserved for crisis situations. So they generally respected it when I did do that because they understood it was necessary and not mom being a dictatorial butthead.
My father was a high school drop out who taught college classes at one time. He was packed to ship out to Korea the next day when he got a phone call telling him he was the only guy in the battalion with all the military schools they wanted for ROTC instructors.
So he and some under-qualified, college-educated officer got out of the Korean conflict. And dad had B.A.G.G.A G.E. about college educated people.
His hobbies included taking a red pen and marking all the grammar, spelling and punctuation errors in notes sent home by public school teachers. It never quite seemed to sink in that he had substantial education himself, just mostly in the form of military schools.
I now have roughly six years of college, including some courses that are the equivalent of Master's level work, but in my youth when I had less formal education, I was "my father's daughter" and enjoyed handing people their head in online forums who had PhDs or Master's degrees and were saying something idiotic.
Sometimes other people actively encouraged me in doing so. I was not the only one going "Oh, brother." I was just better equipped to tackle it.
At some point, I realized I was acquiring enough education it was becoming a hair hypocritical to be on my high horse about stupid people with an alphabet soup of letters behind their name and it was generally obnoxious, so I intentionally stopped. But as a consequence of that background, I have thought quite a lot about why some groups are openly hostile to their "betters" trying to teach them something or correct them or dictate to them.
All too often, it's abusive, classist, racist, sexist etc. disrespect for the person supposedly being "helped." It frequently boils down to brainwashing and grooming disempowered people into being better victims for the benefit of the upper classes and it's the opposite of actually helping them.
And the intended victim typically has no quick and easy means to sort the wheat from the chaff and pick and choose "X piece helps me, Y piece harms me." So they reject the entire thing out of hand and this can result in some demographics being openly anti-education.
Frequently, this is both because they themselves aren't currently educated enough to readily make those distinctions and the perpetrators are actively enforcing a "deal with the devil" paradigm where they aren't allowed to pick and choose. It's the whole ugly deal, warts and all, or nothing.
Even if one is privileged, educated etc. and has the capacity to make those distinctions, it can take substantial time to sort it all out and sometimes requires a little luck to provide them some meaningful basis of comparison to determine "No, X and Y don't actually go together. I like X and can separate it from Y."
And more time still to figure out exactly how one might go about effectively separating them in a satisfactory fashion.
Like Temple Grandin, my oldest son thinks in pictures. He once told me he translated spoken English into pictures and then translated his reply into English, which was an epiphany for me because as a child he made errors similar to people who speak English as a second language.
As a consequence of being his mother, I have gotten into the habit of generally speaking in an image-rich style because that generally serves as more effective communication with my son.
I ultimately concluded this also fueled people online either loving or hating my writing because it's generally a powerful, evocative means to communicate. People happy to hear what I have to say feel I've really reached them.
So do people who don't want to hear it, which gets strong negative reactions.
I viewed parenting as kind of like growing a garden. I tried to make sure the soil was healthy, the atmosphere was healthy, plant the seeds, weed and water. Let it grow.
I usually got with the woman in the mirror when my kids were a problem. Parents set the example and kids follow suit. Actions speak louder than words. It generally doesn't work to lecture them and say "Do as I say, not as I do."
Though sometimes you can frame your own bad habits as a terrible warning if it's just not possible to be a good example. Once while going through withdrawal from boatloads of prescription medication, I was awake for 39 hours straight and a histrionic mess.
In the midst of this, I turned to my kids and said "You remember this. You, too, can have this much fun if you say yes to drug dealers." Then continued my meltdown.
They died laughing.
You don't have to be perfect, but try to make your life work so you aren't hanging your baggage on them. Give them access to materials. Help them if they need it but don't be overly controlling about the expected outcome.
I tried to always tell my kids things like "I think that's a child's idea of a career and won't work, but feel free to prove me wrong."
My son says if I had insisted "You CAN'T make money PLAYING games!!!!" he would have become a game tester or played e-sports just to prove me wrong and he never did because I told him "I don't think that works, but that's just my opinion. "
He eventually agreed with me that's a child's career idea and not what he really wants.
I read an anecdote many years ago about someone giving some kind of parenting class for a diverse audience of young moms with newborn infants and cultural and language barriers. The teacher hit on the idea of telling a young Asian woman to wrap her baby up like an egg roll and a Hispanic gal raised her hand and said "I don't know how to make egg rolls. Can I wrap mine like a burrito?"
If you make a little effort, you can probably find an example with which someone is familiar. Though sometimes it's not as nice and simple as that.
If you are an educator or parent dealing with special needs kids or cultural differences, especially if there's baggage, I highly recommend watching it.
The speaker was teaching somewhere and gave a Native boy a book. The boy was badly beaten by other Natives for accepting the book and he dropped out of the class because of it, but later returned the book. Some years later, the speaker realized the boy had read the entire book and had annotated it in his Native language.
Upon translating the annotations to English, the speaker found that one note the boy had left correctly identified a bird song that fit the book's discussion of Western math and music into HIS life experience.
By the time I pulled my oldest son out of public school, he had substantial baggage about math and writing. For math, my only goal was to teach him "Math is your friend. Math is fun." and get him over his ugly baggage.
As an adult, he once read calculus books for fun and asked his mathy mom questions I couldn't answer, so I asked around online to get him the information he needed.
For writing, I treated it a little like having a food allergy and needing X nutrient found in that food. That food is probably not the only source of that nutrient.
For the first five years of homeschooling, I let him watch Schoolhouse Rock videos for grammar, read Vocabutoons, use a typing program to learn to type and otherwise learn all the important pieces of expressing yourself mostly without ever putting pen to paper. After five years, he tripped across Fan Fiction and began writing thousands of words per day.
I don't know how one would do something similar for large groups with ugly baggage, but perhaps this piece is a step in the right direction for helping such people be inspired to learn, hopefully with fewer of them beaten by their own people for wanting to learn.