Supporting Instructional Designers: Sharing Our Stories and

Supporting Instructional Designers: Sharing Our Stories and Enhancing Our Practice Katy Campbell, PhD University of Alberta Richard A. Schwier, Ph.D. University of Saskatchewan Richard F. Kenny, PhD University of Athabasca Abstract We presume that models and theory in instructional design inform professional practice, but theory has not been consistently built from the professional experiences of instructional designers. This 3-year, pan-Canadian study builds on the theoretical frameworks of critical pedagogy and social constructivism to propose that instructional design both reflects, and has the potential to influence, the culture of the higher education institution. This report describes the first two years of this study in which 20 instructional designers have engaged with us to share stories of their work with instructors and to make sense of their practice as agents of change and transformation in their institutions. Change is Socially Constructed Change is a socially constructed process, and virtual, or e- learning is one of the most dramatic changes facing higher education. Instructional designers are key to moving the e-learning agenda forward, in which case they might be considered agents of social change and transformation. The nature of the relationship between designers, faculty, learners, and institutional culture is therefore important to understand. Much of the extensive work describing theoretical models of instructional design (ID) has not been drawn from the practice of the instructional designer and, consequently, instructional design theory is not grounded in practice. It is important to draw on the professional experience of instructional designers, their personal understanding of and values related to learning with technology, and the relation of these to their practice. In this study we want to understand instructional designers’ practice through their own stories. We want to know: Who are designers? How do they work within institutional contexts? How are they professionally prepared to work with faculty? How do their life experiences, educational and work backgrounds, social and cultural contexts, and personal values influence their practices? Does their practice contribute to the institution’s cultural shift suggested by Canada’s presence in the global knowledge society? How can they be supported in that process? We believe that answers to these, and related questions, may assist us in developing effective models of professional preparation and of practice that will enable designers to work more effectively with faculty in a project of activism to build a “creative and knowledge-based society” (Advisory Committee for Online Learning, 2001, p. ii).

To “play a new and expanded role in the ongoing education of citizens a cultural shift in universities and colleges is required” (p. 24). This shift largely depends on addressing the concerns of faculty members and involving them in a process of change and transformation in the ways they plan, teach and interact with learners. Yet few faculty are expert in the theoretical underpinnings of pedagogy in general, and the pedagogy of online environments in particular, nor are institutions in a position to support them in large-scale, technology-based curriculum development. One solution to this problem of resources and reorientation involves the creation of units of instructional and technological support through which instructional designers work directly with faculty in the disciplines to develop online learning environments and, through that process, involve faculty in a process of personal and professional development. Accordingly, we are seeking out instructional designers practicing in these academic and technology support units in most Canadian regions and engaging them in a series of conversations about their lives and their work. The Theoretical Framework This study is embedded in two theoretical positions: instructional design as a social construct that is expressed in professional communities of practice and critical pedagogy, in which designers act as agents of social change. We believe that learning is situated in rich contexts, and knowledge is constructed in communities of practice through social interactions. Establishing common ground between members, embracing interests and personal values, requires a sharing at both the socio-cultural and the cognitive levels (Cobb, 1996; Ewing, Dowling, & Coutts, 1998). In other words, an individual’s (designer’s) practice, to which self-reflection is critical, will reflect his or her values and belief structures, understandings, prior experiences, construction of new knowledge through social interaction and negotiation within professional communities of practice. Communities of practice We suggest that understanding communities of practice is central to the notion of a social constructivist view of the practice of instructional design. There is a rich and growing theoretical literature that explores essential characteristics of communities of practice (Alani, Dasmahapatra, O'Hara, & Shadbolt, 2003; Palloff & Pratt, 1999; Schwen, Kalman, Hara, & Kisling, 1998; Schwier, 2001; Wenger, 1998). We presume instructional designers use communities of practice to learn, question, critically analyze, reflect on, and negotiate their understanding of this complex field of study. At the same time, we know very little about instructional designers’ communities of practice. Social change agency and ID We also suggest that instructional designers are engaged in a process of professional and personal transformation that has the potential to transform the institution. Rogoff (1990) argues that participation in learning hinges on communication between people in a group, in terms of shared understanding or shared thinking. Glaser

(1991), Ewing et. al. (1998), and others (cf. Jonassen, Dyer, Peters, Robinson, Harvey, King, & Loughner, 1997; Kanuka & Anderson, 1998) believe that learning is most effective if it is embedded in social experience, and if it is situated in authentic problemsolving contexts entailing cognitive demands relevant for coping with real life situations, and occurs through social intercourse. The instructional design process, in which designers and others develop new ideas and understandings through conversation, may be a form of cultural learning or collaborative learning. Our Research Methods This study reflects a blended design shaped by narrative inquiry and analyzed using grounded theory techniques. Why narrative? We are interested in issues of identity and agency shared through stories of practice. Goodson (1995) says that identity is an ongoing project, most commonly a narrative project in which personal meaning is central. Narrative researchers often belong to the same group as participants and choose topics “close to our hearts” (Kanno, 1997): narrative thinking is a constructive, meaning-making activity in which both participants and researchers experience personal self-growth. Conversation is therefore an important aspect of narrative inquiry as participants and researchers co-construct meaning through collaborative stories (Connelly & Clandinin, 1990) that are expressed as communities of practice. Referring to research in teacher professional development, Kelchtermans (1999) describes two domains to a teacher’s interpretive framework: “the professional self, the way a teacher conceives of herself as a teacher; and the subjective educational theory, the personal system of knowledge and beliefs that frames a teacher’s perception of the situation and guides her interpretation of and reaction in it” (p. 3). Believing that designers share a similar framework, we have asked designers to articulate these domains in a series of five research conversations (below). Each conversation is recorded, then transcribed, and is currently being analyzed using the comparative analysis techniques of the grounded theory method. Using Atlas-ti, the designers’ stories are coded and emerging themes are compared and contrasted with each other, the literature, and other data. The research conversations relate to career trajectory, educational background, personal and professional lives, core values as a designer, and stories of practice. The participants We used several strategies to engage participants including: direct personal approaches, calls for participation on several local and national listservs, and during professional activities such as workshops and conferences. We had personal and professional relationships with many; several we had never met. We shared stories through taped conversations, email, and telephone calls. To date, we have collected the stories of 20 designers from 6 institutions, including 10 women and 10 men, ranging from less than one year to over 25 years of experience in various sectors. Most have graduate degrees in education or a related field, four have tenure-stream positions and hold doctorates.

Data We have collected transcripts of recorded working design meetings, notes from professional meetings, about 60 interview transcripts, and email correspondence; we have constructed a project website on which we have provided a core bibliographic database that contains literature reviews on feminist theory, critical theory, communities of practice, organizational change theory, narrative inquiry, grounded theory methodology, gender and technology, and instructional design theory and models. We have also collected conference proceedings, reports, survey results, and other technical and professional information. Findings to Date: Identity, Influences, and Relationships and Agency Our research questions helped us identify at least three areas of investigation, and we have initially used these areas as categories within which to organize our findings. The categories are the instructional designer and identity, the social change agency of the instructional designer, and the instructional design community of practice. In this short paper, we focus on the first two, while in another session at this conference we emphasize the third. Instructional designer identity Identity is an important part of any community of practice, because it embraces a sense of shared purpose and meaning. Neurosurgeons know what other neurosurgeons do, and while they may take somewhat different routes to arrive at “neurosurgeon-hood”, generally the journey involves a pre-Medicine preparation, a very structured undergraduate experience with clearly demarcated stages of growth and acculturation including a period of closely supervised clinical practice, and a lengthy professional apprenticeship that is concluded with a formal licensing /accrediting procedure. Neurosurgeon is a descriptive title that needs no explanation either inside or outside the community. In contrast, we have found that instructional design is not universally acknowledged as a profession; not by its practitioners, the organizations in which they practice, or by other related professional communities. The “profession” seems to be mired in Donald Schon’s messy swamp. Is instructional design a craft, a science; an art? What is our body of theoretical knowledge and how do we enact it? Sometimes the label "instructional designer" is adopted by an organization creating a position, before that identity is defined. A survey of job advertisements for instructional designers highlights this issue particularly in terms of educational backgrounds, experience, and skill sets. For example, one institution requires a graduate degree in “curriculum design, education, library and information science, educational technology or related field”. In fact, different departments within this institution require different combinations of education, experience, and skills. In one Faculty an instructional designer has a support staff designation and in another administrative/professional, while in a third the role is classified as academic. Instructional designers may be expected to be skilled graphic artists, or at least to be able

to use software tools skillfully, or be able to administer networks. We speculate that people create identities from their experience and background, and in professional communities they draw on institutional culture, professional literature, professional organizations and reflection to understand the boundaries of their practice. It is clear to us that ID is an area struggling for identity, a positive image and validation from other professionals and from the community with whom we work most closely, i.e. faculty in our institutions. We asked the designers in this study to define “instructional design”. Being designers ourselves, we were not surprised when our colleagues paused, began an explanation, hesitated, and in the end described what they did rather than who they were. Many of the designers tended to define instructional design as a set of tasks to be completed. Perhaps this is because designers receive mixed messages about the importance and place of the contributions they make. Some institutions express the concern that ID is expensive and a process that actually slows down organizational efforts to produce resources. In these cases designers find themselves constantly defending their presence in a process that was previously private, independent and not comodified in economic terms such as cost-benefit analyses. One of the participants related a conversation he had with the Chair of a department who accused designers “as always wanting to change things.” And, by inference, hold things up, fix what wasn’t broken, make extra trouble, require more resources… Instructional designers recognize that their worth may be misunderstood, and that they will need to be able to respond to challenges from clients about their value and their professional authority. There seem to be several paths we can take into the profession, only one of which is through professional programs, and this may contribute to the disquiet about identity. Experience is a path to training and the profession as often as it happens the other way around. Designers may hold diplomas from community colleges, certificates from technical institutions or private training programs, undergraduate degrees or graduate degrees, in fields seemingly unrelated to design. One participant received a degree in applied linguistics, another a Master’s degree in Distance Education, and another a PhD in Theology. ID is a profession that doesn't require credentials to practice, and there is no impediment to gaining experience. People come to the profession from many different walks of life, and are "hooked" by the experience of designing something successfully. This often leads them to pursue professional training to understand the processes underlying successful performance. Several of the participants spoke of design as “a passion”. However, a profession that is not regulated may be judged lacking in rigour and may face concerns about integrity and professional ethics. Certainly, many faculty, challenge a community that appears to have no theoretical foundation or mechanisms for ensuring evidence-based practice. Designers often hear “but there is no research…” or “there is no evidence…” or simply, “prove that it works…” The assumption that there is no research basis for practice, when there is in fact a very rich and lengthy research tradition that informs instructional design practice emphasizes both practical and conceptual challenges to the designer, especially in an academic environment. Quite often, instructional design theory and practice is conflated with disciplinary theory. Professions possess theoretical roots and have acknowledged practice standards – and the less accessible these roots and traditions are to non-members, the higher- status the profession. Even designers with

doctorates described a struggle for professional authority within an HE institution. In the final analysis, individual instructional designers seem to have a clear idea of what they can contribute, but that clarity and respect is not shared by the organizations they serve. In good part, the culture of the organization and the designers’ embedded ness in it defines their worth and the scope of their influence. Embeddedness is reflected in role description, title, status, compensation, location, and role in the academic and policy life of the institution. Personal and professional influences As we note above, designers enter the field through many different doors, and quite often serendipitously. We have talked to teachers, philosophers, musicians, linguists, construction workers, videographers and programmers, psychologists, and librarians. However, at some point most have returned to formal education programs to acquire a graduate diploma or degree related to education. Many of our designers describe a prior personal or work experience of “teaching”, from high school summer jobs at youth camps to volunteer experiences with adult literacy. Not all were successful students; many remembered feelings of alienation, boredom, or frustration, but each of them were influenced by a teacher who they described as innovative in some way. Often, the innovation aligned with their preferred ways of knowing, or learning. Asked about their core values about designing they referred to learning experiences that they had had that were either positive or negative, but that they feel help shaped their beliefs about the design of good environments. In these conversations the learner is at the center of their practice and they sometimes take on the role of learner advocate. This role is reflected in many ways, including concerns about assessment practices, respect for diversity, and a tendency towards open learning with strong support systems. Relational Practice and Agency In the new economy, addressing pressing, multi-dimensional socio-political issues requires changes that fundamentally challenge the policy-making structures of institutions (Kowch, 2003). Through their work with front-line faculty and through their various service activities, instructional designers may be in a position to contribute to the kinds of social change the institutions are increasingly facing. Previously, we considered two types of social change in which designers are involved, institutional and professional (Schwier, Campbell, & Kenny, 2003). Institutional social change refers to the projects that have wide influence, such as changing social attitudes about stereotyped groups, increasing access to learning opportunities and meeting the needs of non-traditional learners, and providing international experiences. Designers have also seen evidence of transformed practice among educators as a result of their involvement in instructional design, particularly on technology-enhanced learning projects. These were often characterized as a faculty shift from content-centered design to learner-centered design, encouragement to be critically-reflective about

practice, changes in attitudes about assessment and in course evaluation, willingness to be involved in collaborative teams, interest in evidence-based pedagogy, willingness to consider alternative approaches, and involvement in peer-coaching and other faculty development activities. Many of the designers spoke movingly of the relationships that they have developed with their faculty clients and several shared stories of what we are calling relational practice. Designers are aware of the personal and professional risks to faculty of changing their prior practices and feel personally responsible to them to “do no harm”. One designer described her design process as one of collaborative learning; she committed a significant amount of time to “just listening “, helped her client explicate a professional development plan that included reading together, identified a research problem that would lead to a peer-reviewed publication, and agreed to coach her online for several weeks the first time her course ran. Other designers described advocacy activities, such as meeting with departmental Chairs to share issues and solutions regarding undergraduate student evaluations of a technology-mediated course, or attending departmental meetings to present the course to critical colleagues. Instructional designers feel that they are able to influence larger groups of people than they can in other educational roles, but in order to have a sustained influence over an extended period, one needs to be working on content areas that “is important.” This might suggest that the supposed content-free nature of ID doesn't permit designers to connect to substance they value. We wonder, is the personal value of what we contribute significantly bound with the content areas in which we design? Do designers hunger to work on content they value? For example, one designer described a course in Catholic theology for Catholic teachers that was re-designed for a blended delivery. The design involved the creation of a sacred space online that, at the launch, was blessed by the course instructor, a priest. The designer told of how the instructor began the process characterizing the Internet as a tool of aggression and exclusion, and through the experience of working with her came to speak of the Internet as a tool of peace and collaboration. The designer also reflected on her personal growth as she approached the project as an opportunity to learn about her own spirituality. Another designer prefers to work with the Health-allied Faculties in her institution because the work they were doing was for the social good. In contrast several of the designers were either uneasy or indifferent to some content areas and that may affect their engagement or, or potentially present dilemmas of practice. One of the most provocative statements in our conversations spoke to the irregularity of personal impact. In other words, designers feel that they make an important difference sometimes, but not necessarily often enough to feel a high degree of personal satisfaction. When we consider the effect of ID on social change, and look for large influences, we may overlook the fact that small contributions may have a large effect in the long run. This may be especially true of ethical stances and higher values, and how holding to them can have profound effects. Instructional design may not be so important on a grand scale, but the contributions made can have wide and profound influence in the long run. For example, if we insist on gender-neutral language, we may in the long run, contribute to a new understanding of equality. If we keep questions about access on the table, we may force institutions to address these policies in the online as well as the physical environment.

Designers know that they have a great deal to contribute, and that they make a big difference in the quality of instruction they influence. But they work in a shadow profession, one that is not fully understood or appreciated by those in management. In order to be effective in promoting social change, instructional design needs to clarify the kinds of contributions it can make, and make other educators aware of those contributions. It isn't enough to work quietly and effectively in the shadows, and hope that the profession is understood and appreciated. Our Challenge(s) As research on teaching over the past two decades has clearly demonstrated, and if we may extrapolate from that, we cannot fully validate the important social roles designers play without examining how their values and beliefs about teaching and learning are reflected in their practice. Designers themselves are eager to participate in a project of learning about themselves and their practice communities, a project that may contribute to the development of a more inclusive professional community with shared purpose and acknowledged value in the change agenda. When asked directly about the significance of instructional design, individuals speak mostly about their influence on immediate projects, or reflected on specific projects they influenced in important ways. Just a few speak of how instructional design might be influencing the future of education or training. Is this a story of power and influence in the educational hierarchy? What role does a sense of larger purpose play in nourishing a profession and its participants? Although there are certainly exceptions, neurosurgeons view themselves as healers, lawyers see themselves as protectors of justice, and teachers see themselves as improving the future through children. What is the simple vision of instructional designers? What is our larger purpose? What is our grand agenda? References Advisory Committee for Online Learning (February, 2001). The e-learning e-volution in colleges and universities. Retrieved on the World Wide Web January 10 2004 at http://www.schoolnet.ca/mlg/sites/acol/ccael) Alani, H., Dasmahapatra, S., O'Hara, K., & Shadbolt, N. (2003). Identifying communities of practice through ontology network analysis. IEEE, 18(2), 18-25. Cobb, P. (1996). Where is the mind? A coordination of sociocultural and cognitive constructivist perspectives. In C.W. Fosnot (Ed.), Constructivism: Theory, perspectives and practice. New York: Teachers College Press. Connelly, F.M., & Clandinin, J. (1990). Stories of experience and narrative inquiry. Educational Researcher, 19(5), 2-14. Ewing, J.M., Dowling, J.D., & Coutts, N. (1998). Learning using the World Wide Web: A collaborative learning event. Journal of Educational Multimedia and Hypermedia 8(1),

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Schwier, R.A., Campbell, K., & Kenny, R.F. (2003, October). Instructional designers’ perceptions of their communities of practice. Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Association for Educational Communication, Anaheim, CA. The full paper can be downloaded from http://www.usask.ca/education/people/schwierpapers/id_cop03.pdf Wenger, E. (1998). Communities of practice: Learning, meaning, and identity. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.