Teacher Education: Learning From Experiences - Learning Landscapes

Teacher Education: Learning From Experiences Autumn 2014 Vol. 8 No. 1

Editorial Staff

Editor: Lynn Butler-Kisber Managing Editor: Mary Stewart

Copy Editor: David Mitchell

Graphic Artist: Maryse Boutin

Technological Direction and Support: Kevon Licorish, Tim Scobie, and Eric Stenzel Web Integration: Taufiq Hausen

The views expressed in this journal are not necessarily those of the Editorial Staff or LEARN. It is the responsibility of the authors to ensure that proper standards of scholarship have been followed, including obtaining approval from review boards, where applicable, and ensuring that informed consent has been given from participants involved in any research studies. Copyright ©2014 LEARN holds the copyright to each article; however, any article may be reproduced without permission, for educational purposes only, provided that the full and accurate bibliographic citation and the following credit line is cited: Copyright (year) by LEARN, www.learnquebec.ca; reproduced with permission from the publisher. Any article cited as a reference in any other form should also report the same such citation, following APA or other style manual guidelines for citing electronic publications. Comments to the Editor: [email protected]

Published in Canada in the fourth quarter of 2014 Imprimé au Canada au 4ième trimestre 2014

ISSN 1913-5688

Table of Contents Autumn 2014 Vol. 8 No. 1 5

Statement of Purpose

6

Review Board

7 Editorial Lynn Butler-Kisber 15 Shifting Teacher Education From “Skilling Up” to Sustaining Beginning Teachers C. Aiden Downey, Lee Schaefer, and D. Jean Clandinin

21

27

The Question of Teacher Education Madeleine R. Grumet Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter Eigil Pedersen

37 Are You Experienced? William F. Pinar 45 The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers Michael Wilson 55

What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships Anne Benoit

71

Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship Theodore Michael Christou

87

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy

105

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning Susan E. Elliott-Johns

123

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching Paula Fortier

LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014 | 3

139 Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education Amanda Nicole Gulla 153 Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar 173 The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers Katrina Bartow Jacobs 193 To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road The Narrative Inquiry Group 213

A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell

233

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski

251 Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli 269 Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction David Stroupe 287 Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau 305 Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie 323 Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections Zuochen Zhang

4 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Statement of Purpose

LEARNing LandscapesTM is an open access, peer-reviewed, online educa tion journal supported by LEARN (Leading English Education and Resource Network). Published in the spring and autumn of each year, it attempts to make links between theory and practice and is built upon the principles of partnership, collaboration, inclusion, and attention to multiple perspectives and voices. The material in each publication attempts to share and showcase leading educational ideas, research, and practices in Quebec, and beyond, by welcoming articles, interviews, visual representations, arts-informed work, and multimedia texts to inspire teachers, administrators, and other educators to reflect upon and develop innovative possibilities within their own practices.


Review Board (Vol. 8 No. 1) Avril Aitken, Bishops University

Fiona Hughes McDonnell, Emmanuel

Susann Allnutt, Educational Consultant

College

Natasha Artemeva, Carleton University

Pauline Mesher, Educational Consultant

Anila Asghar, McGill University

Janine Metallic, McGill University

Daniel Becker, Lakehead University

Anne Murray-Orr, St. Francis Xavier

Eleanor Binstock, National Louis University

University

Michelin Parr, Nippising University

Susan Kerwin Boudreau, McGill University

Lesley Pasquin, McGill University

Jon Bradley, McGill University

Pam Patterson, University of Toronto

Alain Breuleux, McGill University

Heather Phipps, McGill University

Patricia Cordeiro, Rhode Island College David Dillon, McGill University Margaret Dobson, McGill University Irish Durham, University of South Florida Lynn Fels, Simon Fraser University

Michele Pinard, State University of New York

Tiiu Poldma, Université de Montréal Debbie Pushor, University of Saskatchewan Lori Rabinovitch, Education Consultant Lisa Reisinger, West Montreal Readaptation

Jean Fillatre, Lester B. Pearson School Board

Centre

Andrea Fiss, University of Saskatchewan

Ann Sherman, University of New Brunswick

Tara Flanagan, McGill University

Sylvia Sklar, McGill University

Karen Gazith, Herziliah High School

Lauren Small, New Frontiers School Board

Sandra Gibbons, University of Victoria

Sheryl Smith-Gilman, McGill University

Dixie Goxswami, The Dixie Goxswami

Doreen Starke-Meyerring, McGill

Writing Center

University

Harriet Greenstone, Centre MDC

Pam Steeves, University of Alberta

Charlotte Henay, York University

Teresa Strong-Wilson, McGill University

Janice Huber, University of Alberta

Christian Tarchi, University of Florence

Helen Jelf, Freelance Researcher

Shelley Tracey, Queen’s University Belfast

Neomi Kronish, Educational Consultant

Sean Wiebe, University of Prince Edward

Marie-Claude Larouche, Université du

Island

Québec à Trois-Rivières

Lee Williams, Slippery Rock University

Mary Maguire, McGill University Heather McBride, Educational Consultant


Editorial

W

hen we first dreamed about the format of LEARNing Landscapes in anticipation of its inception seven years ago, we decided that the inclusion of a commentary section, for which we would invite eminent scholars to comment on the theme of an issue, could add an interesting dimension to the journal. We did not anticipate the wonderful and willing responses we have received from a wide range of scholars over these years and the compelling thoughts they have shared with us. What has been a surprise to us is the connecting and converging themes that have emerged in these varied commentaries with little or no direction from us. These contributions have consistently provided a rich and contextual backdrop for the articles that ensue, and this issue is no exception. We are indebted to these many colleagues who have given willingly of their time and expertise to our journal.

Invited Commentaries At the heart of teacher education is the undeniable importance of the classroom teacher in the lives of students. Eigil Pedersen, Professor Emeritus in the Faculty of Education at McGill University, and former Vice-Principal Academic, attests to this in his written recap of a study he and colleagues conducted in the 1970s and in his interview with us. He was able to show how a particular grade one teacher, Miss A, who made sure that all her students were reading by the end of the year, had an important impact on the subsequent test results of the grade six students she had taught, and then when studied longitudinally, a long-term impact on their adult lives. Although his teacher had not been Miss A, the passion that Pedersen had for this work was fueled at least in part by the fact that he had attended this school as an elementary student and later taught there in his early years as a classroom teacher. His work attests to the important difference a teacher can make for students and, ergo, the importance of teacher education. Aiden Downey and Lee Schaefer, Assistant Professors of Education at Emory University in Atlanta, and the University of Regina in Saskatchewan, respectively, and Jean Clandinin, Professor of Education at the University of Alberta, argue for the importance of providing space in teacher education programs for pre-service teachers to make tacit their personal aspirations and practical knowledge which becomes career sustenance. Their work suggests that if there is dissonance between what novice teachers imagine for their classrooms and the actual roles and knowledge expected of them, attrition occurs because their personal and professional identities are put into question.


Lynn Butler-Kisber Similarly, William Pinar, Professor of Education and Canada Research Chair at the University of British Columbia, argues that the “technologization” of teacher education, for example, testing standardization, detracts from and undermines the unique and everyday experiences of future teachers. He discusses how these everyday experiences are essential for developing social and context-specific problem-solving skills that are the requisites for good teaching. Pre-service teachers need the time to question and learn from their experiences as an integral part of their programs. Madeleine Grumet, Professor of Education and Communication Studies at the University of North Carolina, muses about the lack of novels about teaching, and laments that in those that do exist, the teaching soon “slides out of it” and what is left are personal dramas or romances. She underscores the importance of having pre-service teachers explore critically their own educational experiences/histories alongside the legacies and finished stories of great teachers in order to inject hope into the future of stories yet to be completed. Last and by no means the least, Michael Wilson, PhD, a jazz trumpeter, who for many years has been a public arts education advocate (co-chair of the National Roundtable for Teacher Education in the Arts), and taught art part time over several decades in the Faculty of Education at the University of Ottawa, describes in a compelling interview how he has created situations in which pre-service teachers get in touch with their own creative and aesthetic natures through the arts. He suggests that prospective teachers who find a synergy with the arts develop a readiness to learn within themselves, and carry this forward in their work with their future students.

Valuing Self-Knowledge and Promoting Critical Reflection This strong theme that permeates a number of the commentaries is picked up in the submission by Elliott-Johns. She suggests that guidance is needed in teacher education programs to help pre-service teachers understand how to build on their own knowledge and critically reflect about their thinking and practice. She emphasizes the need for support in reflective tasks and provides practical suggestions about how to integrate reflective practice into teacher education programs. Sharma and Portelli discuss the importance of promoting critical reflection that helps to unpack deficit notions of education. For example, many of the beliefs held about inner-city students, to which people are socialized and which, unfortunately, to the detriment of these students, become internalized as truths. They suggest that critical reflection is a crucial, but not necessarily painless process. It is needed before pre-service teachers enter the profession, which puts a demanding and important responsibility on teacher 8 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Editorial educators. Gulla discusses the importance of poetry as a form of inquiry and as a way in which to explore identity in teacher education. She shares how autobiographical poetry writing forms a metaphorical bridge which allows pre-service teachers to articulate unexamined beliefs about teaching and learning, to understand new information, and to connect personally to their professional practice.

Content and Pedagogy in Teacher Education A number of our contributors focused on the importance of having certain content in teacher education programs and of exposing pre-service teachers to pedagogy that they could subsequently use in their classrooms. Vetter, Haig-Brown, and Blimkie share how they have been “infusing” Indigenous knowledge into the teacher education program at York University at the Barrie, Ontario campus, so that it has now become an integral part of the curriculum. Their research suggests five principles for guiding the development of culturally respectful and meaningful content into a teacher education program. These include: 1) understand that “not knowing” is an opportunity for learning; 2) recognize the diversity of histories and teachings; 3) create space for alternate perspectives; 4) teach in context, using resources responsibly; and 5) move from inclusion to infusion. Their article discusses with examples what implementation looks like in classroom settings and the challenges that are faced by both the students and faculty involved in the program. Todd, Beamer, and Goodreau share a poignant story of the difficulty Todd faced, in spite of being an educator herself, when trying to help her son after he was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) at age three. It was because of the excellent communication she enjoyed with her son’s teacher that progress was made. The authors make a strong case for including parentteacher communication and involvement in teacher education programs to address more successfully the needs of the growing number of ASD children. Stroupe suggests that educators draw on the idea of “ambitious instruction” (rigorous and equitable teaching) in areas such as literacy and mathematics and to integrate this into the teacher education science curriculum. He describes how three pre-service teachers used a planning template to build science units based on “big ideas” that enabled them to engage and build on students’ knowledge in useful ways. He discusses some of the challenges these novice teachers encountered when they tried to implement these units in their field experience classrooms when this approach differed from that of their mentor teachers. Christou speaks from the context of Ontario education and posits that Social Studies occupies a pivotal place in the elementary curriculum where pre-service teachers and ultimately their students can be engaged and challenged to think about their world and how to live ethically and well in it. Building on Dewey’s notion of learning by doing, he advocates “take action” projects where students define,


Lynn Butler-Kisber plan, implement, and share projects that respond to needs in the local community, are rooted in social justice, and integrate other areas of the elementary curriculum. Zhang describes an Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) literacy course for pre-service teachers that he has been teaching at the University of Windsor in Ontario. His work has shown that these students are able to learn the theoretical, pedagogical, and practical knowledge necessary for the effective use of ICT in teaching and learning through classes, workshops, field experience, and varied group projects. One of the challenges he and colleagues are attempting to face is how to differentiate their teaching in the course so that the consistently varying ICT needs among the pre-service teachers can be addressed.

Field Experiences in Teacher Education Field experiences have long been identified by both teacher educators and prospective and experienced teachers as a major, if not the most important, part of pre-service teacher preparation. It is broadly assumed that field experiences are the key components of preparation where prospective teachers learn to bridge theory and practice, work with colleagues and families, and develop pedagogical and curricular strategies for meeting the learning needs of a diverse population. (Cochran-Smith & Zeichner, 2010, p. 595) In a year-long ethnographic study, Jacobs was able to demonstrate that pre-service teachers in a literacy education program were receiving mixed messages about teaching and learning. While their program explicitly valued collaborative approaches for knowledge production, they were experiencing in their field placements how solitary and isolated teaching can be. She suggests that the often unquestioned aspects of field experience placements need to be examined and re-structured to reinforce in pre-service teachers the importance of collaboration and inquiry-based approaches in learning to teach. Robinson and Bell, in a collaborative study where Robinson was the professor and Bell the pre-service teacher, reflect on the value of an international field experience. They outline the various ways that field experiences are structured in Canadian contexts and discuss the growing interest in international field experiences. Finally, they describe in a dialogic format how Bell’s international placement in Belize in some instances, “made the strange familiar” because of her preconceived ideas about what to expect, and in other instances, “made the familiar strange.” Her international placement in Belize stretched her as a person and professional, and ultimately the experience confirmed her commitment to continue to grow as a teacher by teaching in other cultures and places. 10 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Editorial

Stories From Newly Inducted Teachers Research has shown that there is a significant percentage of early career teachers that leave teaching within four to five years. Ostensibly, they leave because of personal and/ or contextual factors (Schaefer, Long, & Clandinin, 2012). Driedger-Enns and Murphy, in a narrative inquiry of the experiences of Anna, a second-year teacher, suggest that a shift is needed from the emphasis put on retaining teachers, to that of sustaining them. Furthermore, they show how when Anna found the space through the inquiry process to recount her personal and professional stories, she was able to embrace the tensions she was experiencing in her teaching, and use these as a place for sustenance, growth, and possibility. Fortier shares her journey of how she began her teaching career in her French immersion kindergarten classroom by teaching how she had been taught, using an “ordered system of means and ends” and transitioned, while doing graduate studies, to an embracement of an inquiry-based and student-oriented pedagogy. Her metaphor for this journey is the ups and downs of the Snakes and Ladders game. Time to reflect on her teaching, and to link her practices to theoretical and philosophical considerations, were critical dimensions of this journey.

Sustaining the Work and Growth of Teacher Educators Benoit shares in her interesting qualitative study of a small group of female educators how relational learning occurred among them, which contributed to their professional support and growth. This informal process comprises three dimensions: 1) “continuity” (sustained contact over time); 2) “confirmation” (acceptance, approval, and validation); and 3) “contradiction” (presentation of opposing views after trust is established). Continuity and confirmation produce the necessary trust to create an openness for contradiction to occur and then opposing views help to push thinking and present other possibilities. She suggests that peer-learning partnerships among teacher educators in the context of respectful friendships hold the potential for sustenance and change. Schnellert, Richardson, and Cherkowski, three co-teacher educators at various points in their pre-tenure process, share how they support each other, and learn and grow by writing and responding to each other’s “telling moments” in their teaching. They illustrate how collaborative forms of self-study and reflexive analysis supported them in implementing their learning, and helped them to attend to and embrace tensions they experienced in nourishing and challenging ways. The Narrative Inquiry Group is a writers’ collective in the greater Montreal area made up of 11 teachers and nonteaching professionals. It meets every few weeks to share experiences of teaching through life writing using narrative inquiry, professional conversations, and literary métissage—life writing that expresses counter-narratives. This article provides a description of their process as well as a video documenting the outcomes of their work


Lynn Butler-Kisber which they have entitled, “The Blackboard Monologues.” They show how both new and experienced educators gain confidence in their knowledge and abilities through this supportive process. Hamilton and Pinnegar provide a compelling closing piece to this group of articles. They share how they use “intimate scholarship,” the self-study of teaching and teacher practices (S-STEP), to focus on the individual and make public some of the hidden knowledge that is not revealed in the usual forms of data. They provide a detailed example of this process with excerpts from the data to illustrate different understandings of professional knowledge. They argue cogently that intimate scholarship contributes to new understandings about teacher education and helps teachers and teacher educators to evolve and grow in their respective roles. Their work suggests the need to examine both the role of teacher educators and learners in context in research on teacher education. In closing, I would add that in the United States there has been a protracted discussion on the future of teacher education that is linked to the K-12 standards movement. Cochran-Smith and Fries (2005) have suggested that the discussion generally fits into two camps—that of the deregulationists and the professionalizationists. The deregulationists want to dismantle and break up the monopoly of teacher education. They believe that acceptance into the profession should take various routes, and be based on rigorous testing which would continue into the profession and, at that time, be tied to the success rates of students on mandatory tests. The professionalizationists advocate rigorous teacher education programs that support the learning of diverse students. These authors suggest that the former is predicated on the belief of individual competition for private goods and the latter on creating public good. Abbott (2014), a British educator, in “Battling for the Soul of Education: Moving Beyond School Reform to Educational Transformation,” makes a further analogy, suggesting that these two points of view represent having children grow up as “battery hens” or “free-range chickens.” He makes the case for a free-range approach that encourages creativity and adaptability and that is not only “desirable, but also essential to what is otherwise the production of an over-schooled, but undereducated society” (p. 10). Sahlberg (2011) points to education in Finland. He suggests that the widespread reform movement endorses competition, standardization, test-based accountability, school choice, and education as an industry. In contrast, the Finnish public education system, which is recognized for having leading results among its students, embraces collaboration, personalization, trust-based responsibility, equity, and education as a human right. What is interesting about the contributions to this issue is how the messages strongly suggest the need for this transformational notion of teacher education (Abbott, 2014). The debate may not yet be over; meanwhile, there is definitely consistency about the direction it should take among the wide range of authors in this issue. LBK 12 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Editorial

References Abbott, J. (2014). Battling for the soul of education: Moving beyond school reform to educational transformation. London: TEF21. Cochran-Smith, M., & Fries , K. (2005). Researching teacher education in changing times: Politics and paradigms. In Cochran-Smith & Zeichner (Eds.), Studying teacher education: The report of the AERA panel on research and teacher education (pp. 69–110). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Cochran-Smith, M., & Zeichner, M. (2010). Studying teacher education: The report of the AERA panel on research and teacher education. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Sahlberg, P. (2011). Finnish lessons. New York: Teachers’ College Press. Schaefer, L., Long, J. S., & Clandinin, D. J. (2012). Questioning research on early career teacher attrition and retention. Alberta Journal of Educational Research, 58(1), 106–121.


Lynn Butler-Kisber (B. Ed., M. Ed., McGill University; Ed. D., Harvard University), a former elementary school teacher, is Professor in the Department of Integrated Studiesin Education in the Faculty of Education at McGill, where she is Director of the Office of Leadership in Community and International Initiatives and the McGill Graduate Certificate in Educational Leadership Programs I & II. She has served as Director of Undergraduate Education Programs, Director of Graduate Studies and Research in Educational Studies , Associate Dean in Education, and Associate Dean and Dean of Students, as well as on numerous committees within the University and in the educational milieu. In 2007 she was appointed to the Board of Directors of St. George’s Schools. She teaches courses on language arts, qualitative research, and teacher education. She has a particular interest in feminist/equity and social justice issues, and the role of arts-based analysis and representation in qualitative research. Her current research and development activities include the McGill/Champlain College Mentoring Project, the Quebec/ Vermont International Professional Learning Community Project, and other work with teachers and school leaders in Dominican Republic, France, and Bhutan. The focus of this work includes leadership, literacy, student engagement, professional development, and qualitative methodologies. She has published and presented extensively in these areas. Most recent is her book entitled, Qualitative Inquiry: Thematic, Narrative and ArtsInformed Perspectives, published by Sage. LINK TO: http://www.thelivingclassroom.com/content/bio.html http://www.mcgill.ca/edu-lcii/seminars/


Commentary Shifting Teacher Education From “Skilling Up” to Sustaining Beginning Teachers C. Aiden Downey, Lee Schaefer, and D. Jean Clandinin

ABSTRACT Early career teacher attrition is a serious concern. While the problem is usually seen as one of skilling up new teachers, based on a two-year study with 50 early career teachers, we suggest the importance of attending to what sustains them. While beginning teachers need knowledge and skills, they also need places that allow them to continue to live out their stories to live by, identity stories that encompass both who they are and are becoming as teachers and as people. Attending to stories to live by means we attend to teacher knowledge, knowledge shaped in, and expressed in, both personal and professional knowledge landscapes.

D

uring a meeting with a variety of education stakeholders about early career teacher attrition, a policymaker stated, “We need to skill them up quickly.” Like many others, it seemed he understood the problem of new teachers leaving teaching as a question of their competency: stemming the flow of teacher leavers hinged on getting beginning teachers the skills and knowledge they needed quickly. The discussion in the meeting moved on but “skill them up” and what it meant about how teachers learn to teach lingered with us as we continued to work on a research project on early career teacher attrition. Now, after talking with more than 50 early career teachers, some of whom were still teaching, some who had left, and some who did not accept teaching positions in schools, the project is complete. However, what we learned from the research participants leaves us even more puzzled, and troubled, by the phrase, “skill them up.”


C. Aiden Downey, Lee Schaefer, and D. Jean Clandinin Our take on learning to teach is a narrative one, one that is deeply situated in a narrative conception of teacher knowledge and, thus, a narrative view of learning to teach from living out stories, telling stories of the living, and engaging in inquiry processes into the stories that we each have lived and told and continue to live and tell. Learning to teach, composing what we term “teacher knowledge,” is a deeply experiential process. We contrast what we call teacher knowledge with “knowledge for teachers”; the knowledge that others decide teachers need in order to be able to teach (Connelly & Clandinin, 2007). Knowledge for teachers is what we think the policymaker in the meeting was referring to as he spoke of skilling up beginning teachers. We do not deny the importance of knowledge for teachers. However, what we learned from study participants indicated that it is by no means the only kind of knowledge that new teachers have or need. As we attended to what the teachers told us, we learned it is also not the most important kind of knowledge to which we need to attend if we are to sustain beginning teachers in teaching. As part of our overall study, we engaged in a narrative inquiry with six teachers who left teaching within their first five years (Clandinin, Schaefer, & Downey, 2014). The stories they told of their lives taught us much. We learned with them that we needed to attend closely to their stories to live by (Connelly & Clandinin, 1999). Using a narrative understanding of knowledge as embodied and contextual, we understand stories to live by as the stories that brought them to teaching. Teachers’ stories to live by are “shaped by such matters as secret teachers’ stories, sacred stories of schooling and teachers’ cover stories” (p. 4). The concept of stories to live by allows us to link personal practical knowledge and the knowledge contexts or landscapes in which lives are lived and composed. Participants’ stories to live by helped us see that learning to teach did not begin when they attended university teacher education programs, and became aware of knowledge for teachers. Their teacher education started early in what we are now calling their personal knowledge landscapes (Clandinin, Schaefer, & Downey, 2014). As they composed their lives in their early years, prior to becoming teachers, they began to compose their personal practical knowledge and their stories to live by. These are the stories that shape individual lives, the stories that shape who we are and are becoming. As the early career teachers entered into what we call their professional knowledge landscapes, they entered living and telling their stories to live by and enacting their personal practical knowledge that is neither “modeled on theoretical knowledge” (Clandinin, 1986, p. 177) nor seen as valuable to teachers. As Clandinin wrote almost 30 years ago, “When theoretical knowledge is adopted as a model, personal practical knowledge is seen as different and, consequently, inferior. I see knowledge as embodied in persons, embedded in culture and based on narrative unity” (p. 177). 16 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shifting Teacher Education From “Skilling Up” to Sustaining Beginning Teachers It was not that the early career teachers did not need knowledge for teachers. They valued learning how to organize lesson plans, draw on disciplinary knowledge, and manage their classrooms, learning that occurred in their university classes, teaching practica, and in their mentoring and induction programs. However, they helped us see that the process of becoming a teacher is a means to live out who they are, and are becoming, not an end in and of itself. As we talked with them, they showed us their stories to live by fueled their desire to become teachers. Teaching became a way to try to live out and sustain their stories to live by. Through listening closely and noticing resonant threads in their stories lived and told, we awakened to how participants continued to live out their stories to live by shaped in those early personal knowledge landscapes and embodied in their personal practical knowledge. They came to teaching with intentions to continue to live out their stories to live by. When they could not sustain their stories in the professional knowledge landscapes, their stories to live by shifted to stories to leave by (Schaefer, Downey, & Clandinin, 2014). In listening closely to teachers over time and in relationships forged over multiple conversations, our framing of how we understood their experiences began to shift. No longer did we see them as teachers who left, although they had left teaching. We saw them as people in the midst of negotiating and living lives, as always in the midst of becoming. As we began to see them as people who were teaching rather than only as teachers, we came to understand their teacher knowledge as part of their larger lives. Spending time with them out of school and well after they were no longer teaching in schools allowed us to see that while teaching was an important part of their lives, it was only part of the larger and unfolding whole of their lives. Seeing them as people composing lives within the place called school and in relationship with children, other staff members, children’s families, subject matter knowledge, and professional responsibilities, allowed us to see them differently, to hear their stories in a different way, from a shifted vantage point. We saw them as composing their lives in two knowledge landscapes: the personal and the professional. Gradually we began to hear their struggles of becoming, struggles that were not only about becoming teachers, but were also struggles about how to express their stories to live by and become the people they imagined they would be. In each participant’s stories to live by we heard them tell that becoming a particular kind of teacher was interwoven with becoming a particular kind of person. These imaginings, fostered in personal knowledge landscapes, were intimately intertwined with their stories to live by, stories they embodied as they entered into their professional knowledge landscape. We were struck by how silenced their stories of experience were. They found themselves without a space and without a language for talking about what was happening to them


C. Aiden Downey, Lee Schaefer, and D. Jean Clandinin as they moved into and then out of teaching. We believe part of the silencing occurs because what we call teacher knowledge is often not valued as knowledge in schools. What is valued is knowledge for teaching; the codified abstract knowledge of teaching that is often studied by researchers, taught to teachers, and discussed by policymakers such as the one we quoted at the outset (Connelly & Clandinin, 2007). From our experiences as teacher educators, we worry about the lack of space in our programs for students to talk about their knowledge, the knowledge that brought them to teaching. We worry that in our hurry to skill up teachers that we disregard and dismiss the very thing that will sustain them in the professional knowledge landscape, that is, their personal practical knowledge shaped by, and in, their stories to live by. While we understand how knowledge for teachers may help to retain them in schools, we assert that their teacher knowledge, the personal practical knowledge composed in the living of a life that often gets discounted in teacher education programs, may be of more value in sustaining them as teachers.

What Are We Saying About Teacher Education? What we know from our own lives as people who taught in schools and from the stories of the experiences of the six participants, is that the “personal” seems to have no place in the professional knowledge landscape. We may be able to live out this personal knowledge in secret places, behind closed doors or even perhaps in staff rooms. However, usually the personal does not find a space in classrooms and schools. The imagined stories of working alongside students are left by the wayside as we move into the expert role of providing knowledge to students and preparing them for achievement tests. We learn to hide our personal knowledge. Perhaps this is because, in a nutshell, teacher education programs aim to turn people into teachers. In teacher education classrooms we often hear the importance of moving from a “student identity” to a “teaching identity.” The notion of teaching as a profession creates a barrier between the person and the professional. The professional is defined by the ability to separate the professional and the personal and draw on professional knowledge as the basis for one’s work. While there are certain advantages to separating the personal and professional, we wonder if this separation might be problematic in the teaching profession. Good teachers are supposed to be so personally committed to their profession and students that the professional consumes the personal. It seems that their teacher identity should colonize the person to the point where the person is barely visible. We expect people who become teachers to stop being people.


Shifting Teacher Education From “Skilling Up” to Sustaining Beginning Teachers From our conversations with the early career teachers, we understand the importance of acknowledging the complexity of learning to teach as a life-making process that occurs in personal knowledge landscapes that shape our stories to live by and personal practical knowledge. We need to make more explicit to those we teach in our teacher education programs that we each continue to live in our personal knowledge landscapes as we enter professional knowledge landscapes. We need to find ways to allow beginning teachers to make visible the ways that their knowledge is rooted in their personal knowledge landscape. This is not to valorize or celebrate all of the knowledge that prospective teachers embody. We realize that there is much that each of us needs to carefully attend to as we work with the diverse children and families in our rapidly changing schools and classrooms. It is, rather, to begin to make the complexities of this knowledge visible, to open it to inquiries that lead us to question what we know, how we know, and what we need in order to sustain ourselves in living our lives as people who are teaching. This is not work that we can undertake lightly, easily, or quickly. It is difficult work that asks each of us to attend carefully to questions of teacher knowledge. Helping people in our teacher education classrooms learn to inquire into their knowledge and learn to sustain themselves as teachers is up to us.

References Clandinin, D. J. (1986). Classroom practice: Teacher images in action. London: Falmer Press. Clandinin, D. J., Schaefer, L., & Downey, C.A. (2014). Narrative conceptions of knowledge: Toward new understandings of teacher attrition. London: Emerald Press. Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (1999). Shaping a professional identity: Stories of educational practice. New York: Teachers College Press.

Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (2007). Teacher education — A question of teacher knowledge. In J. Freeman-Moir & A. Scott (Eds.), Shaping the future: Critical essays on teacher education. Rotterdam: Sense Publishers. Schaefer, L. Clandinin, D. J, & Downey, C.A. (2014). Shifting from stories to live by to stories to leave by: Early career teacher attrition. Teacher Education Quarterly, Winter, 9–27.


C. Aiden Downey, Lee Schaefer, and D. Jean Clandinin

C. Aiden Downey

is the Director of Undergraduate Education at the Division of Educational Studies at Emory University. He also co-founded The Workshop School (http:// www.workshopschool.org/), an innovative public high school in Philadelphia. A former public high school teacher, he is interested in how teachers, and in particular those teaching in urban contexts, make sense of their work, lives, and selves.

Lee Schaefer

is an Assistant Professor at the University of Regina in the Faculty of Education. He currently teaches undergraduate curriculum and instruction courses as well as graduate courses focused on using narrative inquiry as a research methodology. Over the past five years his research focus has been on early career teacher attrition and early career teachers. Aiden, Lee, and Jean have a book titled, Narrative Conceptions of Knowledge: Towards Understanding Teacher Attrition, that will be released in the upcoming year.

D. Jean Clandinin

is Professor and Director, Centre for Research for Teacher Education and Development, University of Alberta. A former teacher, counselor, and psychologist, she and Michael Connelly co-authored four books including Narrative Inquiry (Jossey-Bass, 2000). Jean also authored Engaging in Narrative Inquiry (LeftCoast Press, 2013) and co-authored Composing Diverse Identities: Narrative Inquiries Into the Interwoven Lives of Children and Teachers (Routledge, 2006), Places of Curriculum Making: Children’s Lives in Motion (Emerald, 2011) and Composing Lives in Transition: A Narrative Inquiry Into the Lives of Early School Leavers (Emerald, 2013). She has won awards from AERA, University of Alberta, and Canadian Education Association.


Commentary The Question of Teacher Education Madeleine R. Grumet, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

ABSTRACT Addressing Hannah Arendt’s call to prepare the next generation to “renew our common world,” this essay questions how we can simultaneously share our world with students and encourage them to question it. Because teacher education is suffocating in the stipulations of “best practices” that blanket the ambiguity that makes it interesting, this essay explores the questions that make this work compelling. It considers the inhibitions that constrain agency and imagination in teaching, the narratives that collapse experience into predictable accounts delivered to satisfy rubrics and protocols, and turns to the work of poet and classicist, Anne Carson, for a sense of story that opens up experience instead of closing it down. Education is the point at which we decide whether we love the world enough to assume responsibility for it and by the same token save it from that ruin which, except for renewal, except for the coming of the new and young, would be inevitable. And education, too, is where we decide whether we love our children enough not to expel them from our world and leave them to their own devices, not to strike from their hands their chance of undertaking something new, something unforeseen by us, but to prepare them in advance for the task of renewing a common world. —Hannah Arendt (1954, p. 14)

F

or many years I have wondered why there aren’t more novels about teaching. In Bitter Milk: Women and Teaching (1988) I suggested that curriculum means pointing to a world that matters, and it is the construction of just such a world that makes a novel worth reading. Teaching, simultaneously a project of


Madeleine R. Grumet consciousness and a public performance, must have stories to spin in such a world. It takes place in time and politics. It encompasses the culture of schools and universities, the disciplines of knowledge, relationships of power and authority, and excruciating vulnerability. And yet even when I find a novel about teaching, all too soon teaching slides out of it, and all that is left is the sediment of domestic drama or romance. Such was the case with Claire Massud’s (2013) novel, The Woman Upstairs: “The person I am in my head is so far from the person I am in the world” (p. 19), Nora Eldridge, her third grade art teacher tells us as she struggles with her own creativity. But all too soon her fascination with a little boy in her class collapses into her soul-destroying romance with his parents. The scholarship and performance of teaching stays a bit longer in the novel, Stoner, John Williams’ (1965) depiction of a college teacher’s love of his discipline and his struggles to extend it into the work he does with his students: What he wanted to do in this new book was not yet precisely clear to him; in general, he wished to extend himself beyond his first study, in both time and scope. He wanted to work in the period of the English renaissance and to extend his study of classicism and medieval Latin influences into that area. He was in the stage of planning his study, and it was that stage which gave him the most pleasure-the selection among alternative approaches, the rejection of certain strategies, the mysteries and uncertainties that lay in unexplored possibilities, the consequences of choice…The possibilities he could see so exhilarated him that he could not keep still. (p. 121) In another moment, Williams provides glimpses of teaching, the effort to make thought present: As he continued, elaborating upon the categories of grammar he had named, Stoner’s eyes flitted over the class; he realized that he had lost them during Walker’s entrance and knew that it would be some time before he could once more persuade them out of themselves. (p. 135) But again the complexity of this project surrenders to a sulky tale of a loveless marriage to a mean woman. Why does teaching always tiptoe out of the text somewhere in the sixth chapter? Perhaps it is its segmentation that disqualifies teaching’s characters from enjoying a long run. We preserve the freedom of students—and of teachers—from an interminable subordination to each other by creating strong boundaries of separation. The year, 22 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Question of Teacher Education the term ends, and they move on. (Only our devoted graduate students, anxious and beholden, are kept close over the years.) Perhaps it is the pattern of repetition, just a few changes to the syllabus, which interrupts the flow that a good story needs. Or maybe it is the ideology of self-abnegation that demands that it is all about the children, inhibiting our action and obscuring our own interests and motives—even from us.1 This conjecture seems more plausible as it echoes the dilemma in the epigraph from Arendt’s The Crisis in Education that introduces this commentary. Arendt (1954) says that it is our students who will save our world, but then quickly cautions us not to abandon them to their own devices even as she requires us to welcome their “undertaking something new, something unforeseen by us” (p. 14). Does our ideology of care require that we defer to those we teach, relinquishing what is compelling about character as we disclaim our own agency in favor of the students’ action? And in this modesty (true or false) have we surrendered the momentum that would carry us and our readers through the text, eager to find out what happens? Despite the general unpopularity of hesitant heroes, Alan Block welcomes the protagonist he finds in John Updike’s novel, The Centaur (1963). In The Classroom: Encounter and Engagement, Block (2014) tells us that, “teachers must be brave because the work is so exhaustingly difficult and that the rewards …remain sometimes intangible, often rare, and always uncertain” (p. 54). He argues that the success of George Caldwell, Updike’s hero, “remains finally and wholly outside his comprehension, even his awareness” (p. 54). As Block reads The Centaur with his preservice college students, he finds them bewildered by Caldwell’s dark musings. They want to know what the point is, and Block recognizes that naming the point is how they have been taught to read, a reliance on ready answers that he finds in the instrumentalism of the “best practices” that blanket teaching. Ready answers will not provide the renewal that Arendt (1954) sought so fervently. Her hope that our students will “undertake something new, something unforeseen by us” challenges us to consider what kind of teacher education will “prepare them in advance for the task of renewing a common world” (p. 14). What would it mean to share our world with future teachers and at the same time prepare them to change it? I recognize that this question runs through all our human relationships. We lure our children into our world with love, with nurture and music, with language and laughter. We form families and communities longing for affiliation, linked in relationships that anchor our identities with legacies and customs that mark time with ceremony. And then we struggle to find our freedom, to “speak new words in a language already spoken” (Merleau-Ponty, 1962, p. 184)


Madeleine R. Grumet I ask this question—what would it mean to share our world with future teachers and at the same time prepare them to change it?—at a moment when the national and international politics of teaching conspire to thoroughly predict and control the action of teachers. Anxiety about achievement—whatever that is—stimulated by a hostile economy and the demands of underprivileged and underrepresented groups, has generated a panoply of solutions: standards, value added assessments, accountability, standardized curriculum, scripted curriculum, to name a few. Nevertheless, I ask it anyway. We bring our students into the world of education with stories about teaching. We tell them about the legacies of Socrates, of Erasmus, of Horace Mann, of Jane Adams, Dewey, Kilpatrick, and Rugg, Maria Montesorri, Sylvia Ashton Warner, Ella Baker, and Paulo Freire. And then we tell them other stories that connect teaching to politics: stories of industrialization, of progressivism, of centralization, desegregation, feminism, and neoliberalism. While these histories offer explanations for our current situation, they provide little hope. The biographies of our great mentors rarely reveal their dilemmas; often they are finished accounts of lives already lived. Our narratives of social and political ideologies and processes suffocate imagination under the weight of their apparent ubiquity and determinism. In contrast, I am drawn to the history that Anne Carson (2010) pursues in Nox, her poetic elegy to her deceased brother. Carson, a poet and classics scholar, wonders how to tell the life of a mysterious brother who lived and died abroad. Nox is a codex, an accordion folded collage of memories, images, etymology, poetry, and musings about how to do this history: Herodotus is an historian who trains you as you read. It is a process of asking, searching, collecting, doubting, striving, testing, blaming and above all standing amazed at the strange things humans do. Now by far the strangest thing that humans do – he is firm on this – is history. This asking. For often it produces no clear or helpful account. (section 1.3) In this paragraph Carson tell us that, like Updike’s story of teaching, history has no point: “no clear or helpful account.” This should be no surprise to teacher educators, we whose students so often complain that our stories do not provide a clear or helpful account of how to teach. But in another entry Carson suggests another project for history, at once more ambiguous and more responsible: …History and elegy are akin. The word ‘history come from an ancient Greek verb… meaning “to ask.” One who asks about things – about their dimensions, weight, 24 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Question of Teacher Education location, moods, names, holiness, smell – is an historian. But the asking is not idle. It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it, and so you must carry it, or fashion it into a thing that carries itself. (section, 1.1) She says that to ask about something is to realize that “you yourself have survived it,” that you are both connected to it and separated from it enough to ask about it. In Alan Block’s chapter, “The Asking of Questions” (2014), he studies Giambattista Vico’s celebration of knowledge that arises from imagination rather than deductive reasoning, and quotes Isaiah Berlin’s account of it when he writes that human beings have the capacity “to reconstruct imaginatively…what they did and what they suffered, for what they hoped, wished and feared, what efforts were made and what works in which they engaged” (Berlin, 2013, p. 147, cited in Block, 2014, p. 59). Herodotus, Vico, Berlin, and Block help me to imagine what Carson (2010) might mean when she says, “It is when you are asking about something that you realize you yourself have survived it.” I believe that it is this asking about what we have undergone that draws us to teaching. In Bitter Milk I proposed that we are come to teaching because it offers us a second opportunity to educate ourselves. As we point to a world that matters, we are drawn to wonder about the history of our own attention and interests, and, as we teach to explore other relationships and possibilities. Note that Carson doesn’t leave this inquiry in a narcissistic cul de sac, but suggests that we make something new of it; we “fashion it into a thing that carries itself,” a presence that lives in the world like her book, like curriculum, the lesson, the reading, the school.

We renew the world when we question our experience of the world we have.

For over 30 years I asked students in teacher education courses to write narratives of their educational experiences. They were literally and figuratively pretexts, for we read them to find questions about what they had undergone. I recently found cartons of these essays as I was attempting to clean out some file drawers. I have no desire to publish them, but I cannot throw them out. As I look at their texts and my questions, I remember these students keenly, what they looked like, the sound of their voices, the feel of the rooms where we met. Their essays were intended to be, and remain for me, records of subjectivity, precious, unrepeatable, unforeseen. I hope they fashioned them “into a thing that carries itself.”


Madeleine R. Grumet

Note 1. See Peter Taubman’s essay, “The Seduction of a Profession.” He explores concern for the student and explores it as a fetish that substitutes a generous preoccupation with another’s welfare for acknowledging one’s own motives and interests.

References Arendt, H. (1954). The crisis in education. Retrieved from: learningspaces.org/files/ ArendtCrisisInEdTable.pdf

Merleau-Ponty, M. (1962). The phenomenology of perception. (C. Smith, trans.). New York: Humanities Press.

Block, A. (2014). The classroom: Encounter and engagement. New York: Palgrave.

Taubman, P. (2009). Teaching by numbers: Deconstructing the discourse of standardized accountability in education. New York: Routledge.

Carson A. (2010). Nox. New York: New Directions. Grumet, M. (1988). Bitter milk: Women and teaching. University of Massachusetts Press. Massud, C. (2013). The woman upstairs. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

Updike, J. (1963). The centaur. New York: Fawcett. Williams, J. (1965/2004.) Stoner. New York: New York Review of Books.

Madeleine Grumet

is a Professor of Education and Communication Studies at the University of North Carolina, where she has served as dean of the School of Education. Prior to her appointment at Carolina, she served as dean of the School of Education at Brooklyn College, City University of New York. A curriculum theorist, specializing in arts and humanities curriculum, Professor Grumet has published many essays that interpret curriculum and teaching through the lenses of feminism, psychoanalysis, and the arts. She is the author of Bitter Milk: Women and Teaching, a study of gender and the relationship of teaching and curriculum to experiences of reproduction.


Commentary Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter Eigil Pedersen

ABSTRACT A researcher in education usually asks questions, selects a random sample, conducts an experiment, and publishes the findings. However, my questions arose from my actual experiences, first as a pupil, and later as a teacher in an elementary school located in a Montreal slum. Examination of the pupils’ permanent record cards indicated that their IQs typically changed between grades three and six. Moreover, the records showed that the efforts of Miss A had not only resulted in the significantly higher IQs of her pupils compared to those of other grade one teachers, but years later, interviews of the same individuals also indicated higher rankings with respect to their subsequent adult status.

T

his commentary looks back at a study published in the 1978 Harvard Educational Review. The methodology of that study was unusual at that time. That work was based on existing data, and then on new data collected by interviewing and also by observing respondents. The whole project arose out of my personal experiences. I graduated from McGill’s School for Teachers in 1952. By July 1958, I had taught Grades Five to Seven for five years in Little Burgundy, and had completed one year as a high school biology teacher at Northmount High. I was halfway through the course requirements for McGill’s new part-time M.A. in Education. The School for Teachers had an unexpectedly high enrolment for the coming fall, and I was asked to help out as a lecturer for just one year. One year became five, and ultimately thirty-three! Because I


Eigil Pedersen had scant qualifications for the work, I was asked to teach courses in subjects no other faculty members felt qualified to offer. I soon realized that, despite my age and large and growing family, I had to earn a doctorate. I was struck by the fact that most teacher education theories had arisen from psychological studies of the characteristics of pupils rather than of schools. I felt I could find my own specialty in the Sociology of Education. In 1963, I was accepted into a doctoral program at Harvard University, and given a leave of absence from McGill University. After I had completed all the requirements for my Ed. D. degree in 1966, I returned to McGill to resume my career there in the Faculty of Education’s Department of Psychology and Sociology of Education, newly renamed to include my new specialty. Just days after my return, I learned that the Quebec Government had established the Institut de Recherche Pédagogique (IRP) and that I had been appointed to its advisory board. As I attended meetings it occurred to me to study the permanent record cards of children who had attended the elementary school in which I had been a pupil from Kindergarten to Grade Four, and where I had later taught grades five to seven, from 1952 to 1957. The principal there allowed me to photocopy more than 300 permanent record cards of my former pupils. I applied for research funds from the IRP. The Director asked me, “What is your research question?” My answer was that I didn’t have a research question yet. Then I was asked, “Where is your random sample?” My answer was that children don’t grow up in random samples, but rather, experience the effects of living in particular socioeconomic and ethnic, or even racial neighbourhoods or ghettoes, which provide unique experiences that certainly influence their development. There were other similar questions concerning my null hypothesis, my control group, and the like, all suggesting that research methods based on the overwhelming influence of psychology and psychologists on educational research were the only way to go. I was told that my proposal looked more like a fishing expedition than a serious research project! What would people think of the IRP granting funds to a member of its own advisory board for such an unscientific proposal? No funds were granted, and I was obliged to support the research from my own resources. This lack of funding put severe restraints on what I could hope to achieve. It also delayed my work, and this delay was exacerbated by emerging responsibilities at McGill, including my being elected as my faculty’s representative on the University Senate, my appointments as Chair of my Department, later as Dean of Students, and after that, as Vice-Principal (Academic) from 1972 to 1981. These challenges kept me very busy, both on and off campus, and so it was not until 1977 that I was able to co-author1 an article on 28 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter this research, which was published in the Harvard Educational Review under the title “A New Perspective on the Effects of First-Grade Teachers on Children’s Subsequent Adult Status” (Pedersen, Faucher, & Eaton, 1978). This article has been frequently cited in the literature every year since its publication. Those who are familiar with the above publication will remember that the school was located in a slum district of a large city where two major railways were headquartered. I can now inform you that this was Royal Arthur School located in Montreal on Canning Street just south of the CNR tracks and north of Notre Dame Street. The families of Black pupils lived there because of railway careers that were open to their fathers, such as Porter (Red-Cap) and Dining or Sleeping Car Attendant. Of course, a negative aspect worth remembering is that it was almost impossible then for male members of this visible racial minority to find decent work anywhere else in the city. They had their own church, community center, recreational centers—in short, they lived there because careers were available, but also because it was their own community. The very much larger group of “Whites” who lived there had very little, if any, sense of community. The vast majority of them were there because the rents for housing were among the cheapest in the city. Four times during the school year, their teachers presented the children with report cards to take home to their parents, showing their grades on tests of the academic subjects such as Reading, Handwriting, Arithmetic, French Language, English Literature, and the like, as well as teacher estimates for each pupil of five personality characteristics, namely Reliability, Leadership, Industry, Initiative, and Cooperation. The grades were: E (excellent), VG (very good), G (good), F (fair), and U (unsatisfactory). Parents were required to sign and return these report cards. At the end of the school year, each teacher summarized the grades from the four report cards and entered them on the pupils’ permanent record cards. The School Board required the formal administration of two IQ tests to all pupils, the first in Grade Three and the second in Grade Six. Therefore, almost all of the permanent record cards also included the results of two IQ tests for each pupil taken three years apart. I was startled at what I found in my “fishing expedition.” At The School for Teachers, I had learned that since intelligence was inborn and permanent, changes in IQ result from error of measurement, and are usually relatively small, within five points. However, these cards showed some very large differences in the two IQ scores for many of the pupils. And so, even though I interpreted differences in scores of plus or minus five points as indicating no change, still a majority of pupils experienced IQ change, up or down, increase or decrease.


Eigil Pedersen Measured IQ change of more than five points between Grades Three and Six was the norm, not the exception. Does intelligence change? The idea of neuroplasticity had not yet been widely accepted. So how were we to account for these large changes in IQ? Further analyses showed that the directions and magnitude of the changes recorded on the permanent record cards were statistically different for pupils of different Grade One teachers beyond the .05 level of probability. Because anonymity was required by the Harvard Educational Review, we named three long-serving teachers Miss A, Miss B, and Miss C. Table 1 of the article shows that the patterns of IQ change for the former pupils of these three grade one teachers were statistically significant beyond the .05 level. Table 3 shows that the percent of Miss A’s pupils who increased in IQ was 33 for boys and 38 for girls; this difference by gender was not statistically significant. The percents of IQ increase for Miss C’s former pupils was 12 for boys and 13 for girls—much smaller than for pupils of Miss A. In fact, Miss C’s girls and boys were between three and four times more likely to decrease in IQ than to increase. The differences in IQ change for girls as compared to boys was not significant for either Miss A and Miss C. However, former pupils of Miss A were significantly more likely to experience IQ increase than those of Miss C. The pattern for Miss B’s pupils was different. Her former girls were more than twice as likely to increase in IQ than her former boys. The pattern of increase for her boys was 18 percent, whereas for her former girls, it was more than double that, at 39 percent! This difference is statistically significant at the .02 level of probability. Putting it another way, the probability of the subsequently lower IQ change of Miss B’s boys as compared to that of her girls having occurred by chance was smaller that one in fifty! On a personal note: I was a boy in Miss B’s Grade One Class in 1935-36. I sat near the back of Row 2. Except for the kindergarten, all the classrooms in Royal Arthur School had six rows of eight cast-iron and wood desks with fold-up seats, all securely screwed to the floor. Miss B’s seating policy was: girls in the first four seats of each row, and boys in the last four. Could IQ change and its direction of change up or down be influenced by where a grade one teacher required the pupils to sit in the classroom? Did she seat them like that because she had different expectations of girls than boys? Having seated them differently, did she treat the boys differently from the girls in other ways? Don’t most of us? Did this influence their behaviours and achievements in other ways? Would these differences show up in later adult achievement?


Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter On another personal note: It wasn’t until several years later that my choirmaster at the church where I was then singing asked me: “Pedersen, why are you reading the music with your nose?” He arranged and paid for the eye examination and the glasses, which the examination showed that I needed. I still remember vividly my astonishment with the amazing improvement of my ability to see. Why hadn’t Miss B or any of my other teachers noticed my problem? My choirmaster had never experienced any teacher education. I remember my Kindergarten and Grade One teachers at Royal Arthur School, and their names as well. I have no recollection of any of the others. I do remember the Principal, and his name, probably because when I was in Grade Four, he gave me the strap, four on each hand. In the spring of that year, 1939, after I had completed Grade Four, our family was evicted from our small flat on St. Antoine Street near the corner of Atwater Avenue, on the grounds of our not having paid the rent. We had hit rock bottom, or so it seemed. We moved to two upstairs rooms in a derelict old house on Argyle Avenue. The one at the back of the house was chosen for my parents, and the other at the front, overlooking the CPR railway tracks, I shared with my older sister. Argyle Avenue still has the same houses on its north side, and the CPR elevated tracks leading to and from Windsor Station on the south side. We might have hit bottom, but we were on the other side of the tracks, and therefore required to attend a different school. Royal Arthur School had been a horrible experience for me. Meanwhile, going to Victoria School was the opposite. I suppose if I had not had to endure five years at the former school, the latter might not have seemed so wonderful. I still remember my teachers and the principal there with great affection and gratitude. How both organizations could be categorized by the same name—school—was beyond me. And unlike St. Antoine Street, Argyle Avenue was a lively social community. As my future unfolded, having been evicted from our flat on St. Antoine Street turned out to one of the best things that ever happened to me, and was certainly the beginning of a completely new and infinitely better life! These above paragraphs may seem a bit self-indulgent, but I think that they go some way to explain some reasons for my firm conviction that the contexts of experience are at least as important as the personal characteristics of the children in understanding academic achievements, and ultimately improving them.


Eigil Pedersen Let us go back to the research. Not only were Miss A’s boys and girls more likely to increase in IQ between Grade Three and Grade Six than those of the other two teachers, but also their mean achievement test scores and teacher estimates of their personality characteristics were higher in almost every subsequent grade. This led us to the question: Did Miss A’s positive influence lead to higher achievement in adulthood as well? As the above-mentioned report describes in detail, I decided to find former pupils, now grown up, employed, and raising their own families, and to interview them in depth to determine their adult status, high or low, and its schooling antecedents. With the help of experts, we created an Index of Adult Status Characteristics, which enabled us to rank the success of the respondents based on their answers to questions by the subjects and observations made by the interviewers on matters such as home ownership or not, income, the level of occupational prestige, the level of schooling completed, and also the appearance, quality of language used, and similar characteristics of the former pupils being interviewed. Again, deliberately ignoring the idea of random samples, I was able to locate 60 former pupils for in-depth interviews. These consisted of 10 men and 10 women whose IQs had increased dramatically, another 20 whose IQs had changed little or none at all, and another 20 whose IQs had decreased between Grade Three and Six by wide margins. I thought of this as purposeful sampling, rather than random sampling. The question was: Is Adult Status significantly related to changes in IQ that had occurred years before during the time that they attended elementary school? The statistical procedure called Path Analysis is often used to tease out the unknown order of occurrence of antecedent variables in events that happen over long periods of time. In the Path Analyses reported in our 1978 article, we were able to report on the influences of school achievement variables on the adult status of pupils in their actual known order of occurrence. Hence, correlation coefficients were calculated for the relationships of background factors such as father’s occupational status, the number of children in the family, and the Grade One teacher; this showed that the impact of the Grade One teacher on the General Standing of pupils by the end of Grade Two was the strongest of those three predictor variables. Furthermore, the analysis showed that the General Standing of the pupils at the end of Grade Two was strongly predictive of their positive personality characteristics (Reliability, Leadership, Industry, Initiative, and Cooperation) in Grades Three to Grade Six, and that in the chain of influences, these impacted strongly and positively on General Standing in Grade Seven, which in turn had a powerful impact on Adult Status—almost as strong as the Grade One teacher’s 32 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter direct influence on Adult Status. The analysis suggested that the positive impact of the Grade One teacher on subsequent achievement variables in school was what led to the significantly higher achievement of Miss A’s pupils in adult life than that of those of the other two grade one teachers. Pupils were assigned to Grade One Teachers in Royal Arthur School on the basis of the alphabetic order of the first initial of their last names. This policy was meant to provide each teacher with an unbiased and fair share of all pupil types—good, bad, or indifferent. Those fortunate enough to have been assigned to Miss A received a better quality of teaching than those assigned to others, and for most of them, this had an impact on their personal development, academic achievement, and adult status in later life. Good scores on Reliability, Leadership, Industry, Initiative, and Cooperation related positively and strongly to General Standing in Grade Seven, but not to Adult Status. Why not? Subsequent analyses suggested that while all of these variables were seen as positive by the teachers in the school, they were not all seen that way in the world of adult employment. In a post-publication analysis, which unfortunately disappeared along with the loss of the computer data tape, I looked at how separate personality characteristics were seen by prospective employers; I learned that in contrast to teachers, employers were looking for different personal characteristics in “Black” than in “White” job applicants. It seems that for “White” applicants they were seeking leadership and initiative, whereas for “Black” applicants, they were looking for reliability, industry, and cooperation. We had combined these estimates into one, and while that made sense in the world of the school, it did not in the outside world of employment. Apparently, employers at that time did not look for the same personality characteristics in “Black” candidates as they did in “White” candidates. I wonder if it has changed to this day? What I am speculating about here was the job situation at that time in Montreal, and not in some large city in the southern half of the United States! A final few words about Miss A (see also Fallon, 2001). Miss A was the daughter of immigrants, probably from Appuglia, Italy, judging from her name, which was Iole Appugliese. The pupils found this name difficult to pronounce, and so she was known to all of them as Miss Appledaisy. She was serious, strict, and fair. She was determined that every child in her class would learn to read, no matter what effort it took, or what methods would have to be devised. Unfortunately, she didn’t start teaching at Royal Arthur School until after I had left that school as a pupil, or I might have been lucky enough to have had her as my Grade One teacher. But Miss Appledaisy and I were good colleagues for the five years during which I later taught at that school. Iole was


Eigil Pedersen a fine organist and pianist, and every year on the last day of school before Christmas, all of the pupils and teachers would gather in the full length of the first-floor hall, just below the five steps leading up to the location of the gymnasium, which had been built onto the existing school building as an addition. The piano would be brought from the kindergarten to the area just above the top step, where Miss Appledaisy could be seen and heard by all. Most pupils saw their Grade One teacher in action during their first year in school. But those lucky enough to have been assigned to Miss Appledaisy had something in addition. They saw her in action, if only briefly, during each of the six years following Grade One. One of the questions we asked the adults during their interviews was, “Who was your Grade One teacher?” A substantial number of them identified Miss Appledaisy, even though the permanent record cards showed them to be wrong! Wishful thinking? Miss Appledaisy was fluent in three languages, Italian, French, and English. By the time we had discovered all of these good things about her, she had become ill with cancer. She retired from teaching and spent her last days as a volunteer translator in one of the large Montreal hospitals. We were able to show her the results of this study before the publication of the article. She was proud and gratified.

And all this new knowledge from a fishing expedition!

Note 1. Thérèse Annette Faucher was a researcher at the Ministère de l’Éducation du Québec. She was also a co-author of mine on a 1971 book entitled, “Status and Prospects of Educational Research in Quebec.” William W. Eaton was an Assistant Professor of Sociology at McGill University who lent his statistical expertise to the study.

References Fallon, D. (2001). The amazing Miss A and why we should care about her. University of South Carolina Homecoming, College of Education, October 19, 2001.

Pedersen, E., Faucher, T.A., & Eaton, W.W. (1978). A new perspective on the effects of firstgrade teachers on children’s subsequent adult status. Harvard Educational Review, 48(1) 1–31.


Looking Back at a Landmark Study About Why Teachers Matter

Eigil Pedersen has a B.A. from Sir George Williams University, an M.A. from McGill University, and an Ed. D. from Harvard University. He was a Professor at McGill for 30 years and held several administrative positions at the university including Chair of the Department of Psychology and Sociology of Education, Dean of Students, and Vice-Principal (Academic). He has also been a Visiting Scholar at Harvard University, London University, and Brandon University, and has an LLD (Honoris Causa) from Concordia University. He is particularly interested in educational research, student-teacher relationships, and teacher influence.

Click here to see an interview with Eigil Pedersen



Commentary Are You Experienced? William F. Pinar

[T]eacher education, like education itself, is a moral practice rather than a technological project. —Anne Phelan (2011, p. 210)

ABSTRACT Educational experience, I suggest, depends on having embodied experience from which one can learn. What can one learn from virtual experience? One can acquire information online, but can one craft that personal practical knowledge that derives from being experienced? That ongoing project requires that information be worked through—idiosyncratically—incorporating the new into one’s prior knowledge and emotional-intellectual gestalt, thereby cultivating the capacity for (situation-specific) judgment. Despite policymakers’ insistence that technology structure almost every classroom experience, many educators appreciate that their subjective presence is prerequisite to social learning. These facts and convictions inform this brief commentary on “experience.”

T

oday’s ongoing unquestioned demand for technology in education is justified as utilitarian—presumably preparing students and their teachers for an even more thoroughly technological future—even though the pace of technological change ensures that any such preparation must miss the mark. Never mind the facts, promises prevail, as promoters assure us that technology only improves student learning. Universities and schools seem powerless to resist, diverting funds from teachers and students to purchasing the products technology companies sell.


William F. Pinar Constantly acquiring technology has produced a “slick and fast-growing sales force,” Matt Richtel (2011, p. A1) reports, hired by computer and other technology companies determined to profit from public financing.1 The technology bubble continues to inflate, Richtel (2011) continues, even as “questions persist about how effective hightech products can be at improving student achievement. The companies say their products engage students and prepare them for a digital future, while some academics say technology is not fulfilling its promise” (p. B7).2 Standardized examinations have long been a prominent instance of the technologization of education. Reducing educational experience to numbers misrepresents student achievement. In the standardization technologization enforces experience evaporates. Not only in teacher education does standardization eviscerate that educational experience from which professional judgment derives. Recognizing this risk, medical educators from the Mayo Clinic “specifically set out to teach against the test,” Abigail Zuger (2014, p. D4) reports. Instead of standardized protocols, Zuger continues, these “educators took their students through complicated, contradictory cases for which there were no clear ‘best’ strategies, but many reasonably acceptable ones” (p. D4). Is not the same the case for teachers in actual school classrooms? Everyday experience comes with complexity that technologization cannot replicate or adequately anticipate; only flesh-and-blood educators face to face with students can negotiate the every-shifting situatedness of embodied learning in actual, not virtual, situations. It is not just medical educators who recognize the risk to education that the standardization intrinsic to technologization poses.3 From Idaho to Illinois, schoolteachers have been in open revolt against the mindless installation of computers as the salvation of U.S. “school reform.” In 2011 the Idaho state legislature passed a law that requires all high school students to take online classes to graduate, requiring them and their teachers to purchase laptops or tablets. To subsidize these mandatory expenditures, the state proposed to shift tens of millions of dollars away from the salaries of teachers and administrators, declaring that technology has repositioned teachers from the centers of classrooms to their sidelines, from where they become “more of a guide,” assisting students to work through “lessons delivered on computers” (Richtel, 2012, pp. A1, B4). Teachers marched on the capital, charging that, “lawmakers [had] listened less to them than to heavy lobbying by technology companies, including Intel and Apple” (pp. A1, B4). With parents they gathered 75,000 verified signatures, more than needed, to put a referendum on the ballot that November, the passage of which did in fact overturn the law.


Are You Experienced? Illinois educators also protested the onslaught against educational experience that technology represents. Striking Chicago teachers were not only alarmed by a new evaluation system and increasing class sizes but also, Monica Davey (2012) reported, by “data-driven education reform nationwide, which many perceived as being pushed by corporate interests and relying too heavily on standardized tests to measure student progress” (p. A14). Steve Parsons, a teacher at Lane Tech College, suspected Chicago wanted to move the curriculum online, effacing the primacy of teacher-student relationships in educational experience. Kelly Farrell, a kindergarten teacher at Higgins Elementary on Chicago’s South Side, lamented that her class had become so large that she could not attend to each child. “They are 5 years old,” she said. “They want their teacher’s attention, and there is one of me and 43 of them” (quoted in Davey, 2012, p. A14). Long before humanity began staring at screens and no longer at each other, the technologization of education had standardized not only the educational experience of students but also pedagogical practices, confining them to “best practices” that are, allegedly, “data-driven” and “evidence-based.” Not only the curriculum but also teacher-student relationships risk becoming means to ends, not ends in themselves, relationships that can be central to the formation of youth struggling to learn what at first they might fail to understand. Relationships between teachers and students are intrinsically important, extensions and revisions of relationships between children and significant others, especially parents and caretakers. The educational experience of children, then, occurs within relationships to authority, embodied in actual persons emotionally engaged with each other. “Whereas contemporary liberalism has come to consider ‘authority’ almost entirely in terms of the rule that binds citizens and government,” Nancy Luxon (2013) points out, the classical liberals—she cites Locke, Rousseau, Kant—appreciated that “formative, personal relationships of authority prepare citizens to occupy common public spaces organized through words and deed” (p. 19). The education of children was “premised,” Luxon continues, on “personal relationships to authority,” including “parents” and “teachers,” providing experiences of authority “that prepared individuals to exercise their liberty as citizens” (p. 19). Liberty and authority, she concludes, are paradoxically entangled, and, she adds, “that entanglement is one to be continuously and actively negotiated rather than one to be stabilized onto the dichotomous terms of hierarchy” (p. 19). A computer or tablet screen cannot substitute for the embodied actuality of negotiated relationships with actually existing educators committed to helping children learn from their lived experience, learning not necessarily linked to outcomes


William F. Pinar but enacting the paradox—the ongoing educational experiment—of affirming liberty within relationships of authority. Educational experience is not without risk. The English word “experience,” Martin Jay (2005) reminds us, is derived most directly from the Latin experientia, which denoted “trial, proof, or experiment” (p. 10). Insofar as “to try” (experei) contains the same root as periculum, or “danger,” he notes, “there is also a covert association between experience and peril, which suggests that it comes from having survived risks and learned something from the encounter (ex meaning a coming forth from)” (p. 10). Academic study is not shopping, students are not customers and teachers are not service providers: market metaphors for educational thinking fool parents and politicians into fantasizing a problem-free path when not only etymologically but also experientially learning is sometimes uncomfortable, at least when it invites us to exceed what we already know and can think. Standardization fools a gullible public into thinking that educational experience is everywhere the same. As Jay (2005) also mentions, the concept of experience is associated with “specific [rather] than general matters, with particulars rather than universals” (p. 10). Educational experience occurs within the two domains, the universal through the particular and vice versa; it is allegorical.4 As Colin Koopman (2009) points out, “the democratic contribution is thoroughly personal. This means that it is simultaneously individual and social just insofar as all persons find themselves simultaneously individuating from and associating with other persons” (p. 24).5 The social experience of learning with and from each other in classrooms small enough to encourage subjective presence in dialogical encounter—complicated conversation guided by erudite, engaging teachers6—institutionalizes opportunities for improvisation, discovery, and understanding. Despite its intense technologization, Montaigne might recognize the present we inhabit. After all, he saw his own age as one of “corruption, violence, and hypocrisy,” an assessment, Martin and Barresi (2006) explain, that forced him “to question what his age took to be knowledge, then the possibility of knowing altogether, and finally even the human capacity to seek truth consistently… [He] helped reorient modern philosophy from the external world and toward subjective experience” (p. 121). It is subjective experience that is eviscerated by staring at screens. While hardly guaranteed by the embodied presence of another, it can be encouraged by the subjectively present teacher unafraid of engaging emotionally as well as intellectually in conversation with those in her or his charge. Professionalization does not mean bureaucratization


Are You Experienced? but subjective presence and the exercise of professional—ethical—judgment, as the epigraph underlines. Educational experience is not experience in general. There can be no experience that does not belong to someone, a person, a human subject coming of age, coming to form, through the study of subjects. In this era of the “post”7, we assume there is no preexisting or “substantial self but something more intimately connected with experience” (p. 174).8 As crucial as “experience” is—when it is lived, embodied, subjectively undergone—it is not, Koopman (2009) underscores, “a foundation for knowledge, morality, or politics.” (p. 8).9 Indeed, experience can be misleading, as Juliet Mitchell (1975) knew, informed as it is by (patriarchal) culture, (unjust) circumstance, and an opaque historical moment. As Jay (2005) notes, Mitchell’s “skepticism abut experiential self-evidence and her insistence on its mediation by more theoretical models of explanation” cautioned not only feminists but also others whose work rested on “the authority of subjective experience, either in the present or past” (p. 246). Indeed, experience—if it is to be educational—is to be learned from, not accepted at face value. It is the beginning not the end, but without actual educators authorizing such experience, conformity, not skepticism, seems the more likely outcome. “Conformity is the enemy of learning,” Michael S. Roth (2014) points out, “because in order to conform you restrict our capacity for experience; you constrict our plasticity” (p. 168).10 If experience means anything at all, Jay (2005) concludes, “it involves an openness to the world” (p. 408). That is the cosmopolitan cause of curriculum as complicated conversation, a cause to which educational experience enlists our allegiance. As Phelan reminds us, teacher education, like education itself, is not a technological project. It is a moral one.

Notes 1. Richtel reported in 2011 that “billions” of dollars are at stake. In 2013, Singer (2014) reports, “sales of education technology software for pre-kindergarten through 12th grade reached an estimated $7.9 billion, according to the Software and Information Industry Association” (p. B6). 2. Failing to fulfill its promise may be only the beginning of the problems the technologization of education poses, as research documents the deleterious consequences of substituting virtual for actual embodied experience (see Pinar, 2012, pp. 140–161).


William F. Pinar 3. While too many educators have been hoodwinked into believing the hype, more than a few notice a difference between virtual and actual experience. “Several teachers,” Hollander (2012) reported, “said their experience online has influenced their in-person classes — sometimes in counterintuitive ways” (p. A3). Ms. Emily McCarren, a Spanish teacher at Punahou School in Hawaii, told Hollander: “Maybe the takeaway has been really valuing time that you have with students,” said. “When I have all 18 of my students in a classroom it’s such a gift” (quoted in Hollander, 2012, p. A3). 4. In this general sense, allegory is a specific narrative that hints at a more general significance; see Pinar, 2012, p. 50. 5. He is here threading U.S. pragmatism through Emerson, James, and Dewey. 6. No standardized set of “practices” but individuated and situation-specific enactments of ideals. 7. We are now, we are told, post-human; see, for example, Agathocleous, 2011, p. 184. 8. Here Martin and Barresi are discussing Kant. 9. Koopman is here discussing Rorty. 10. Apparently even intellectual capacity, as measured by one’s IQ score, “may be more malleable than previously believed – and more susceptible to outside influences, such as tutoring or neglect,” according to findings by researchers at University College London, reported online in Nature (see Hotz, 2011, p. A3).

References Agathocleous, T. (2011). Urban realism and the cosmopolitan imagination in the nineteenth century. Visible city, invisible world. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Hollander, S. (2012). Online holdouts no more. Private schools in U.S. and abroad offer webbased classes through new venture. The Wall Street Journal, Vol. CCLX, No. 73, A3.

Davey, M. (2012). Teachers’ strike in Chicago roils families’ lives. Union battles mayor. Complaints over pay, benefits, class size, and respect. The New York Times, Vol. CLXI, No. 55, 891, A1, A14.

Hotz, R. L. (2011). As brain changes, so can IQ. Study finds teens’ intellects may be more malleable than previously thought. The Wall Street Journal, Vol. CCLVIII (No. 894), A3.


Are You Experienced? Jay, M. (2005). Songs of experience: Modern American and European variations on a universal theme. Berkeley: University of California Press. Koopman, C. (2009). Pragmatism as transition: Historicity and hope in James, Dewey, and Rorty. New York: Columbia University Press. Luxon, N. (2013). Crisis of authority: Politics, trust, and truth-telling in Freud and Foucault. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Martin, R., & Barresi, J. (2006). The rise and fall of soul and self. An intellectual history of personal identity. New York: Columbia University Press. Mitchell, J. (1975). Psychoanalysis and feminism. Freud, Reich, Laing and Women. New York: Vintage-Random House.

Pinar, W. F. (2012). What is curriculum theory? [Second edition.]. New York: Routledge. Richtel, M. (2011). Silicon Valley wows education, and woos them. The New York Times, Vol. CLXI (55,580), A1, B7. Richtel, M. (2012). Teachers resist high-tech push in Idaho schools. The New York Times, Vol. CLXI (55, 640), A1, B4. Roth, M. S. (2014). Beyond the university. Why liberal education matters. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Singer, N. (2014). September 15. With tech taking over in schools, worries rise. The New York Times, CLXIII, No. 56, 625, B1, B6. Zuger, A., M.D. (2014). February 11. The real world is not an exam. The New York Times, CLXIII, No. 56, 409, D4.

Phelan, A. M. (2011). Towards a complicated conversation: Teacher education and the curriculum turn. Pedagogy, Culture & Society, 19(2), 207–220.

William F. Pinar

is Professor and Canada Research Chair at the University of British Columbia. He has also served as the St. Bernard Parish Alumni Endowed Professor at Louisiana State University, the Frank Talbott Professor at the University of Virginia, and the A. Lindsay O’Connor Professor of American Institutions at Colgate University. The former President of the International Association for the Advancement of Curriculum Studies and the founder of its U.S. affiliate, the American Association for the Advancement of Curriculum Studies, Pinar is the author of Educational Experience as Lived: Knowledge, History, Alterity (Routledge, 2015).



Commentary The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers Michael Wilson

ABSTRACT In this interview, Michael Wilson describes the focus of his work with generalist teacher candidates as motivating them to want to teach the arts. He does this by creating situations where the candidates can experience their creative or aesthetic nature. Dr. Wilson explains that the teachers have to believe that the experience itself is important, before they will want to have those kinds of experiences with their students. Another important concept he discusses is the idea that students have to be emotionally ready to learn and that part of the teacher’s role is to nourish that emotional readiness. He goes on to explain that many approaches that have been used in arts education for some time are now becoming more recognized in education in general.

How did you become involved in arts education and what has been your goal over the years?

W

ell, I originally wanted to be a musician. I wanted to be a jazz trumpet player. In fact, my undergraduate years were spent at McGill and I nearly lost my degree because it wasn’t McGill I discovered, it was Montreal that I discovered. And I got involved somewhat in the amateur jazz music scene there and I decided I wanted to become a professional jazz trumpet player. I wanted to be the next Miles Davis. But as we all know, Miles Davis became the next Miles Davis. And so I realized that I was good enough to play in the club that I was playing in in Montreal, but not good enough to ever get out of that club—I’d reached my ceiling.


Michael Wilson I decided at age 21 or 22 I wasn’t going to do that and I just happened to notice a brochure at the University of Toronto about going to teacher’s college, and being able to do the arts as a teachable area of study…and I went there for a year. So that’s how I stumbled into teaching—I taught drama for a while—and I didn’t want to teach music because it was too personal to me as a musician. My interest in theatre was more tertiary and I did it more for fun and I was prepared to teach that. So, I started my lessthan-illustrious teaching career as a drama teacher in 1965, and I taught for about 24 years in various schools, mostly in Ottawa. And I’d always become interested in teacher education at the time—I always took student teachers when I was a classroom teacher, and I found myself enjoying that process—working with student teachers—as much as I did teaching students. I had an opportunity to teach at Queen’s University for a while at the end of the 70s, so I did that. I’ve been at this place [University of Ottawa] since 1989, so that’s how I stumbled into it all, and I’ve since come to think that (in terms of arts education) if you want inspired arts educations in schools, you have to inspire the teachers to teach it. From that day until now, I felt my job was mostly to motivate generalist classroom teachers, especially at the elementary level, to want to teach the arts; to want to do them. It’s a motivational thing. And I have taught speciality subjects here, for secondary school teachers, but that’s a different process. You’re dealing with people already with a background, so what you’re actually doing is honing in on the pedagogical skills related to whatever the art form is. But I was more interested in taking generalist teachers, in other words elementary teachers, many of whom had no experience in any of the arts, certainly not them all, and most of whom did not feel they were “talented,” and that the arts were for the “talented.” I wanted to ignite a fire under them and to this day that’s mostly what I want to do—is motivate teachers to want to do that. It’s a little bit like Ken Robinson’s thing called “The Element,” when your skill set matches your motivation set. And I guess that came to me quite late in life: the whole thing of feeling that what I could contribute most is that fact of taking a group of generalist student teachers, having them see something of themselves, something of their aesthetic creative selves, so that they would want to share those kinds of experiences with their students.

How do you do that? How do you motivate these students?

I try to give them experiences, including this morning; I just taught a class this morning. I try to give them experiences of a creative and/or aesthetic nature, that they confront themselves…I don’t try to make them pretend they’re ten-year-olds or twelve-year-olds. I try to relate to them as the adults that they are, many of whom are 46 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers accomplished in many areas before they come here, mostly not in the arts, though. I try to make them confront something of their aesthetic selves in what we do. In other words, I try to give them experiences of beauty for themselves; and then we reflect upon that and I ask them to see if they can make that connection to trying to have those kinds of experiences provided for their own students. So I can list what in fact I do mechanically, but in general that’s what I try to do. Of course, the course requirements of all the courses here (as I’m sure at McGill and other places), there are lots of bits of information that you should know, the curriculum and all that kind of thing. And of course we touch on that, but mostly they’re adults and they can read all that, so I provide them the links to that information. But I think what’s most important, particularly for people who are not experts in the arts, it’s no good teaching them the pedagogical skills if they don’t believe that the experience itself is important.

Can you describe one of the things that you do with them in a little more detail?

Well, I’ll give you one example. In musical terms, I’m very much influenced by the work of Murray Schafer, and he invented a word called, “soundscapes,” which a lot of people use in a variety of settings. What Murray Schafer meant by that term “soundscapes” is “an exploration through sound of an environment, an idea or concept, or feeling—or a mix of all of those.” That’s his concept of music. So, I find that appealing because you don’t need to have any training in the western European notational system, you don’t need to have any sense of whether you can sing in key or not, or whether you can play a tuned instrument or not. None of that matters. All that matters is whether or not you can explore your own concept of sound. So I do several exercises in exploring what a soundscape is, so in various groups they create sounds related to a topic that I gave to them and they share them with other people in the class—when their eyes are closed and when they’re seated in a certain kind of way, so the sound creators can surround them to give them a quadrophonic sonic experience. And I try to give them that experience so that both the performing groups have that experience of deliberately presenting sounds to others; and the other group with their eyes closed can concentrate on listening to these sounds and have the effect of these sounds, transport them somewhere else: to another place, to another set of feelings, concepts of ideas. Anyway, there’s one example which is as purely important music as anything else in music, but it doesn’t require formal academic European training in music or sound. Anybody can do that. The other advantage of that, too, is you capture the multicultural richness within the room because people who have experiences in other kinds of


Michael Wilson cultures can bring that all into play in the work that they do. And that extends over to the classroom because many schools and urban centres in Canada have a very rich, multicultural flavour to the classroom, and of course students should be able to enrich others in that room with that different set of backgrounds—and the teacher needs to capitalize on that.

What role would you say the arts have played in teacher education in the last decade or so, and why? The role that the arts have played in teacher education is very similar to the role that the arts have played in education, generally, and that is that we seem to be developing new approaches to education, particularly as through neuroscience we are understanding better how the brain works, it seems that when that literature is examined, the neuroscience of brain operations, when that is translated into educational practice, people seem to invent techniques in education which people in the arts have been using for very many years. That’s particularly true in drama and visual arts where we talk all the time now about the validity of portfolio assessment. Well, visual arts teachers have been using that for years as a valid method of assessment—and it is, particularly a portfolio of accomplishment or a portfolio of evidence as accumulated over a year that’s made up of a variety of different pieces of evidence. All of that is in the forefront of the evidence today about enlightened evaluation and assessment. Well, there’s an example of something that’s been going on for a long time. The other is that as a society there’s a culture we’re learning that we kind of went too far in our technological degree of specialization, and we made people into experts in areas that nobody understood except other experts in the same area—that’s certainly true of academia—but it’s true of science, of society as a whole…but we’ve taken that technological science motivation since Sputnik…you know, that’s how it happened, and we’ve become so technologically oriented and scientifically oriented, so mechanically oriented, that we’ve forgotten other parts of ourselves: the spiritual self, the inner self, the holistic self, the emotional side of ourselves, we know for example you don’t learn anything in school unless you’re emotionally ready to learn—all those kinds of things, the things that the arts have always concentrated on; and so when you refer to, say, the last 10 years I think the great revelation is that new approaches to pedagogy today all seem to reflect what’s been going on in the arts for a long time. The term “creativity” now is used all the time to say that…business corporations could benefit from a creative approach to the working atmosphere, the working situation. 48 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers Creativity has been inherent in the arts for a long time. The most important thing in teacher education, particularly here, and I don’t think this one is especially different than any other, is to provide a dimension in creativity and aesthetic experience (or beauty) as part of a total program. That’s necessary for a complete experience in education. Not only as training for these teachers to go out into schools, but also because these student teachers are themselves not widgets. They’re human beings, too, so for their own nourishment as well as the training to provide that for kids in schools. I think that is the major accomplishment and contribution of the arts in teacher education (as you said) in the last 10 years.

What do you feel teacher education institutions should be doing to enhance the arts?

They should be recognizing the importance of the arts to the overall development of teachers, and therefore, students, in schools. They don’t sufficiently recognize it. The mindset about the arts in teacher education is similar to the mindset about the arts, generally, particularly in English Canada. French Canada, less so, but in English Canada we’re still stuck with the idea that the arts are entertainment, they’re frivolous, if you’re interested you can pursue them on your own. It’s not really part of a necessary, formal education, at public expense. Backers of education, I think, across the country should recognize more clearly and more definitely that the arts within those institutions are as an important part in the development of teachers—and ultimately kids in schools—as important as what we would refer to as literacy and numeracy, which are the big buzzwords in this province. The “artistry” or some other term about that—I think Elliott Eisner coined that term— is just as important because, otherwise, we’re not total human beings. So there’s an area that faculties of education and universities in general should recognize more than they do.

Can you suggest any ways that administrators can be convinced that this should be an integral part of a bachelor education program? Well, the first obvious way is to make sure the arts programs available for teacher education match the curriculum guidelines that each province has in their schools. In this province, in Ontario, the elementary curriculum guidelines for all Ontario schools requires that each of dance, drama, music, and visual arts be taught to the level of the expectations listed in those documents. In this province, that is not possible, if you see


Michael Wilson that reflected in the programs of teacher education. Not possible here at this one; and most of the other faculties don’t. They have limited opportunities to explore the arts: many have music options, some have visual arts, far fewer have drama, and almost none have opportunities in dance. At this one, we fuse all the arts together in our training for elementary teachers and we call it “integrated arts.” We don’t teach any of the discrete disciplines separately, we teach them all as if they’re a united whole. And I have to believe that’s the correct way to do it at the elementary level; but we need to do more of that, so administrators need to feel that the financial aspect of that is as important as anything else, and they don’t currently. Certainly, here we need to continue to push for that all the time, and we do that with…right here we do a lot of optional things, enrichment activities. We just finished a weekend called the “Creativity and Aesthetic Experience Weekend,” where we presented a program to anybody who wanted to spend the weekend with us here in this building, and we provided all kinds of opportunities to investigate creativity in science and math, aesthetic experiences in social sciences, and many other areas— it’s not just about the arts, it’s about that centrality of concepts, two of them: creativity and aesthetic experiences together, and that can be in any subject area, not just the arts, it can be anywhere in school life.

What can schools and individual teachers do to enhance the arts in education?

I think they should see that, again, aesthetic experience is as important in the lives of students as anything else, and I would suggest as a primacy, because I said earlier that if students are not emotionally ready to learn, they’re not going to learn. If they come to school and they just learn their parents are divorced before they go to school, they’re not going to learn anything that day. I think teachers need to help students become emotionally ready. Which means understanding that feelings are as important as cognition and being able to cope with the experiences at school, so part of your programming seems to me, needs to take into account the nourishment of a sense of trust, of relaxation, of security, of being able to take risks, of all of those kinds of perceptions and attitudes within a school that allow students to feel that they can investigate other things, that they can risk looking like an idiot in front of others, in order to truly understand whatever the concepts are being studied in any subject. Otherwise, they spend the whole time sitting in school—of course they sit too much, that’s another problem—trying to figure out what the teacher wants them to say, what’s the right answer or the wrong answer.


The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers The whole dichotomy of trying to express to the teacher something that will allow the teacher to give them a high mark, or something…all that kind of thing. Whereas, if you’re going to spend five hours a day at school for 200 days a year, surely the experience of being there has to mean something to them in a holistic way, in a feeling way, as well as strictly in a rational, logical, sequential thinking way. Teachers and schools need to recognize that more than they do now; and the main opportunity providing that currently with people who understand it are people associated with the arts.

Do you have a favourite story of a student who experienced art for the first time and changed dramatically as a result? I once taught at a secondary school that was a learning-disabled school for the entire district. We had a lot of students who had been labelled “learning disabled” for one reason or another. I taught one student who had a terrible stutter. It was painful to listen to and, I’m quite sure, painful for him too, to experience that on a daily basis. And he took a drama class that I taught. And he suddenly found that when he was playing a role that was different from himself, he didn’t stutter any more. He also discovered that when he sang, he didn’t stutter; and he discovered that in that school—and he was, what? In grade 10 or something—when he first discovered that he could be in an environment where he didn’t stutter at all. Of course, he began to love going to drama class and vocal music class. He loved that too. So, there’s two examples where somebody who had a very serious affliction—obviously, in part, because of a socio-somatic emotional trauma or something about his emotional matrix—which did not permit him to have a sense of calmness or freedom to be able to speak without stuttering all the time. And when he discovered that it was miraculous. His parents thought it was a miracle that he actually performed in a school play, that they went to see, because they found he didn’t stutter either when he was doing the lines of a character in a play—in other words, he knew ahead of time what he was going to say; it was a script—but even when he improvised he knew it was play, it wasn’t real, and he didn’t stutter. And that was one example that was particularly outstanding. But I noticed that with many students, particularly the learning-disabled students for one reason or another—not always stuttering; it could be some other issue—that in an arts classroom, particularly visual arts, particularly drama, often music (vocal music usually), they didn’t display those disabilities. So, if you were looking for evidence, that particularly shows the value of arts in schools, look at the learning disabled evidence and their encounters with the arts—there’s lots of evidence…how they almost are miraculous in allowing


Michael Wilson people to feel that they can overcome those disabilities because there’s no risk of looking like an idiot or feeling like one.

I thought I’d ask you a little bit about the National Roundtable for Teacher Education in the Arts. Can you tell us what it does and your role there? That was initially an experiment between me and the National Arts Centre…I do a lot of work with the national cultural institutions in the Ottawa area—and we had been thinking that academics meet a lot but mostly to discuss their research. Not as much about what they actually teach or how they teach; this is particularly true in the arts. And it seemed to me that there wasn’t a regular forum for people in the arts to meet together to talk about that; so we felt there was some kind of need for that so four years ago we decided to co-host what we called a “roundtable.” We wanted to call it a “roundtable” because we didn’t want it to be a conference where there were presenters and people…it wasn’t that kind of formal thing. We wanted it to be more of an informal discussion, so in the first year we had about 60 people from across the country who came to Ottawa in May for a couple of days and we were at the National Arts Centre, and it was kind of walking the talk about creativity and aesthetic experiences, in that we involved people in some experiences as well as opportunities to talk or discuss things. That first year, for example, we had somebody on this faculty who, believe it or not, has done a PhD thesis on “hula hooping,” and so we had them all doing “hula hooping” on the balconies of the National Arts Centre—just to look ridiculous with each other, and we have that on video for anybody that wants a copy! And we did other things like that. For example, there was a show on at the Arts Centre about tap dancing, so we had the creator of the tap dancing sequence come and give us a tap dancing workshop. And these were experienced professors and arts teachers from across the country, so we wanted to have a different forum for them to discuss what it is they do in the classroom. And—actually the original idea was only to do it once—but they said, “We want to do it again.” So we had a second one, and the second one was not at the Arts Centre. We went to the National Gallery for that one because we felt that the setting, the ambience, the atmosphere was as important as what we were doing…I work a lot with the National Gallery, so we co-presented with them the second year…and the basic idea was the same: to mix small-group discussion and larger groups, and try to provide some experiences. I think in that year we explored some of the things that were on exhibit at the time and we had some impromptu dance experiences that occurred in some of the public 52 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Key to Arts Education: First Inspire the Teachers galleries, and some of it was quite outrageous, which was exactly the idea—and we decided then that we’d hold it regularly, once a year. We probably have about 200 people on the listserv for the Roundtable…and we have about 50 people generally speaking, who come, and we invite them from across the country, and they do come from across the country—most of them, of course, within a 500-mile radius of Ottawa (because of the ease of travel) and sometimes we try to tie it into the CSSE gatherings, as we’re going to be doing this year which, this year the CSSE happens to be here… and so we’re trying this year two or three days just before that, so people coming to do something like CSSE will just happen to come to our place on the way. So, really it’s kind of an informal forum for anyone from across the country who’s involved in any way in teacher education in the arts, and that’s obviously Faculty of Education people, but also school board consultants, superintendents, because that’s in-service education as well as pre-service, and artists—a lot of artists come who are involved in that kind of training with teachers. And we get school board administrators, we get administrators and bureaucrats from the Ministry of Education. In Ontario we have a college of teachers, it’s called “The Ontario College of Teachers,” that regulates the teaching profession including qualifications, so we’ve been lucky that we’ve had representation from them every year in the four years that we’ve done it. And we try to go to different environments each year, but places that have a kind of ambience and a special nature about them. Last year, we were at the Bytown Museum, The National Gallery, The National Arts Centre, and another art gallery in Ottawa. Some people were actually walking a lot between venues, and those walks themselves were part of the process. There’s a lot in the literature about the value of walking to stimulate creative thought, and so we were mining that, exploring that. This year, we’re (it’s not final yet) thinking of being at the Canadian Museum of History and a number of other surprise locations. It’s May 28th and 29th, 2015.

Do you think a similar kind of thing could be developed for students in schools?

Oh, what a great question! My short answer is: absolutely! Yes, and of course, one group we don’t have at the National Roundtable are students in schools. We do get student teachers, and we get graduate students, but we don’t get students themselves—who should, of course, have their own. In Ottawa, there is a community group called “The Advisory Committee on the Arts,” for the Ottawa-Carleton District School Board: this is a community organization of volunteers who advise the trustees of the school board on all matters of arts education; to that committee are student representatives from the schools of this school board. That is one example of a local


Michael Wilson community of interested arts people advising a school board and they’re not made up of the employees of the school board so they’re providing, in a sense, unbiased information about arts enrichment in the schools. And there are students who are members of that. But your question was about could the students collectively organize their own autonomous roundtable, or whatever they’d call it, I think it’s a great idea. I don’t think it exists at the moment. And should.

Michael Wilson has a Bachelor of Arts degree from McGill University and Masters and Doctorate degrees from the University of Toronto (OISE). He has been a classroom teacher in several schools and faculty of education professor in the arts since 1967. Michael has been a public arts education advocate for many years through involvement in provincial and national organizations in Canada and abroad and has often initiated new movements and organizations in the areas of teacher education in the arts, civic and provincial arts policy, and the roles of artists in schools. He is a frequent speaker and published author on all the above topics, locally, nationally, and internationally. LINK TO: http://code.on.ca/blog/national-roundtable-teacher-education-arts-draft-report www.nrtea.ca


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships Anne Benoit, Curry College

ABSTRACT Programming to enhance teaching on college campuses often aligns with learning models that privilege formal and structured learning activities. This qualitative study explores the informal relational learning experiences of a small sample of faculty members in the Northeast United States. Participants’ stories emphasize the relational nature of informal learning interactions which have the potential to result in perspective change. The findings highlight the value of trusting, ongoing interpersonal interaction and dialogue for meaningful faculty learning.

Study Context

H

igher education in the United States has been forced to respond to criticisms related to perceived value versus cost, inadequate completion and persistence rates, a lack of defined learning outcomes, lackluster teaching, and little data on student learning as a whole (Spellings Report, 2006; Arum & Roksa, 2010; Hacker & Dreifus, 2010). Internal and external pressures on the higher education sector are driving the need for teaching enhancement. In response, staff and administrators in university Centers for Teaching and Learning (CTLs) develop and deliver numerous programs designed to improve postsecondary instruction. However, despite efforts by faculty development centers to enhance faculty teaching, meaningful change in postsecondary teaching has been slow to arrive.


Anne Benoit The literature on structured faculty development programming in higher education is plentiful; however, there is little research that explores what lies beneath the explicit learning structures and programming designed to enhance postsecondary teaching— that is, the often invisible yet potentially powerful learning experiences that can result from informal faculty learning relationships.

Study Purpose The purpose of this exploratory narrative study was to investigate the relational learning experiences of a small sample of college faculty members. To that end, data sets from a previous inquiry into faculty learning and development (Benoit, 2013) were re-analyzed using relational and transformative learning lenses to better understand the nature of faculty learning through informal relationships. Outcomes from the study have relevance for adult educators and academic/faculty developers in higher and further education.

Theoretical Perspectives Informal Learning Livingstone (2001) defines informal learning as “any activity involving the pursuit of understanding, knowledge, or skill which occurs without the presence of externally imposed curricular criteria” (p. 4). Informal learning may occur in conjunction with the pursuit of a specific goal or may result from an interaction that has no specific intention (Keeping, English, & Fleming-Courts, 2001). Coombs (1985) considers informal learning the most prevalent form of learning for adults. Informal learning, also known as everyday learning, occurs in the daily professional interactions and interpersonal contexts within which adults live and work (Illeris, 2004). This type of learning takes place apart from the formal or institutionally sanctioned professional development programs that are available to faculty on college campuses. Informal learning can occur or flourish in environments that are not considered particularly conducive to individual or organizational learning (Marsick & Watkins, 1990). Moreover, informal learning can variably enhance or contradict learning acquired from disciplinary, departmental, or institutional sources (Schugurensky, 2000). 56 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships Informal learning includes what Marsick and Watkins (2001) call incidental learning, which they define as learning that occurs as a by-product of some other activity. For example, a new faculty member working with a colleague on program or curriculum work “learns” through the interaction about departmental or institutional norms for role behavior, teaching culture, or assessment practices. Such learning would likely not be deliberate or intentional but instead a fortuitous outcome of an interaction designed for another purpose. Marsick & Watkins (1990) note incidental learning is always happening even though most people are unaware of it and may not recognize it as learning.

Adult and Professional Learning Cranton and King (2003) point to the tension adult educators must negotiate between addressing postsecondary teachers’ immediate instructional needs and providing learning opportunities that speak to their development: “Professional development activities that focus on the how to rather than the broader issues of practice are an attempt to make knowledge about teaching instrumental” (p. 31). Brookfield (1986) also cautions against confusing adult learning with “learning how to perform at an improved level of competence in some pre-defined skill domain” (p. 99), as such a perspective raises questions related to who defines competence and which learning paradigm guides the assessment of improvement or mastery. Moreover, learning that involves knowledge transmission and skill enhancement—what Portnow, Popp, Broderick, Drago-Severson, and Kegan (1998) term informational learning—is very different from learning that leads to “deep and pervasive shifts in perspective and understanding” (p. 22).

Transformative Learning Mezirow’s (2000) theory of transformative learning, originally introduced in 1978, describes transformative learning as a process by which individuals change their habitual frames of reference to make them more discriminating, open, reflective, and emotionally capable of change. The expansion and enhancement of these frames occurs through what Mezirow (1990) terms perspective transformation, which he defines as “the process of becoming critically aware of how and why our presuppositions have come to constrain the way we perceive, understand, and feel about our world” (p. 14). The goal of perspective transformation is a reorganization of the structures through which a person views the self and his/her relationships, resulting in perspectives that are more inclusive, permeable, and integrated (Mezirow, 1991).


Anne Benoit Transformative learning theory has evolved into a complex and comprehensive theory of learning (Cranton, 1994). In the decades since Mezirow introduced the theory, Taylor (2008) has articulated what the theory body and empirical research suggest are interactive and necessary requirements for perspective transformation: voluntary and full participation in the learning, dialogue, and critical reflection on one’s assumptions. Cranton (2006) and Dirkx (2006) have also identified a relational dimension in transformative learning which calls for trust-building and attention to the affective domain. Mezirow (2000) suggests that learning theories need to acknowledge the important role of supportive relationships and a facilitating environment for adult learners, as learning that occurs within these contexts can support learners in identifying their own assumptions and building confidence to take action on new and emerging insights.

Relational Learning For many, the term “relationship” connotes personal and intimate interactions with loved ones and partners. Whether mentioned in reference to faculty learning partnerships or faculty interactions with students, “relationship” in relational learning does not mean a romantic connection in the traditional sense; instead, it refers to the self-positioning that faculty members assume in their interactions—that is, how they “stand” in relation to their students, colleagues, and academic subjects. A relational perspective on learning operates from the premise that learners come to know and to be through their relationships with others (Belenky, Clinchy, Goldberger, & Tarule, 1986). Otero and Chambers-Otero (2000) contend that all learning occurs within relationships; however, because learning relationships are themselves variable, the quality of the learning that can result also varies. Cranton (2006) agrees that certain relationships create better conditions for learning and self-development than others. The relational stance in its broadest sense has its origin in the work of philosopher Martin Buber (1958), who conceptualized that human beings variably enact their stance based on how they consciously or unconsciously perceive the “other” in an interaction. If the other is viewed from a perspective of “I-It,” then Buber notes it is easy to treat the person with contempt or judgment. If, by contrast, the other is viewed through an “I-Thou” relational lens, then one is more likely to recognize commonalities, attend to the other from a place of stewardship, and speak or behave in ways that demonstrate the perceived value of the other.


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships

Elements of the Facilitating Relationship Laurent Daloz (1986), whose foundational work with adult learners serves as the model for most adult educational mentoring frameworks, describes the relational context in adult learning as a dynamic space which must be deliberately cultivated and subsequently exists apart from the surrounding context. The relational context for the facilitating relationship must be solid enough to hold a learner’s variable goals and experiences yet flexible enough to nurture ambitions and dimensions of self not yet conceived or realized. Daloz (1999) points to the power of attending to the other in the relational learning context, and in his work with adult learners, noticed the positive effect of his focused attention on his adult students and their learning. Being seen, being heard, and having the experience of being truly (even if only partially) understood by another whom the learner deems important constitute one source of facilitative support for adult learners. The facilitating relationship is marked by three distinct components: Continuity, Confirmation, and Contradiction (Kegan, 1982). Continuity is established through sustained contact with a trusted significant other (Sullivan, 1953) and requires time, consistent interaction, and trust-building. The second component, confirmation, refers to the nature of the interpersonal interaction within the emotional context of the learning relationship. Confirming behaviors include the expression of acceptance, approval, and validation. Trust-building through continuity, in combination with genuine confirmation, forms the relational context in which adults can risk deep learning and subsequent change (Cranton, 2006). Continuity and confirmation, then, comprise two components of what Kegan (1982) calls a holding space, within which learners are more likely to risk exposing their thinking and unexamined beliefs. Yet, confirmation and continuity alone will not move a learner to his/her “learning edge” (Berger, 2004). Contradiction is needed, and in the relational context, it represents the interpersonal conversations and dialogues that provide opposing views and alternative experiences which can challenge a learner’s perceptions and assumptions. The necessary and judiciously applied balance of contradiction within the established relational context is a critical lever in the process of skillfully creating what Jarvis (2006) terms a “disjuncture”—an opening or gap in the learner’s meaning system that occurs when a learner’s articulated perspectives and knowledge claims are revealed as potentially incomplete or distorted (Gadamer, 1991). The three components of the facilitative relationship work interactively to create and sustain a catalyzing environment for adult learning and perspective change.


Anne Benoit

Methods The current study revisits data from a previous inquiry into the influences a sample of current college teachers identified as meaningful in their development as postsecondary teachers. Ten participants from the original study were identified through professional networks in the New England region, as well as through snowball sampling. The inclusion criteria called for the recruitment of active full-time faculty members from any academic discipline working in teaching-focused liberal arts colleges in the Northeast region of the United States holding faculty rank of assistant professor or above. After receipt of IRB approval, eight female and two male faculty members were interviewed for the full study. This inquiry re-analyzes the interview transcripts of three female faculty members using relational and transformative learning lenses; these particular transcripts were chosen because the participants specifically mentioned the role of informal workplace relationships in their learning as teachers. Table 1 provides participant demographic and professional information for the three participants. Table 1 Participant Demographic and Professional Information PARTICIPANT

AGE

ETHNICITY

DISCIPLINE

FACULTY RANK

YEARS TEACHING

DOCTORAL DEGREE

INSTRUCTIONAL LEVEL

Louisa

39

Black African

American Studies

Associate Professor

10

Ph.D.

Undergraduate

Tara

57

Caucasian

Psychology

Associate Professor

35

Ph.D.

Undergraduate

Valerie

40

African American

Biology

Associate Professor

18

Ph.D.

Undergraduate

Data Collection Qualitative data was originally collected through single semi-structured interviews with each participant lasting between two and three hours. Demographic data was collected by means of a data sheet which participants completed prior to the interviews. In addition, Informed Consent documents were processed before interviews commenced. Field notes were taken during the interview sessions which were utilized during data analysis.


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships Efforts were made to ensure the protection and anonymity of participants in this study: participant-chosen pseudonyms are used throughout, and little information related to participants’ institutions is provided, as doing so might unintentionally expose participants’ identities.

The Research Approach Qualitative research emphasizes the discovery and interpretation of participants’ experiences (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000). A qualitative study was appropriate because of its potential to illuminate the interactive relationship between learning and experience (Bruner, 1965). Because this was an exploratory study that sought discovery, a standard literature review was not conducted prior to data analysis; moreover, analytic categories in the scholarly field were not previously identified so that the categories that emerged could be better grounded in the data, addressing the qualitative standard of confirmability (Guba & Lincoln, 1998). Narrative studies can provide access to reflective and retrospective meaningmaking (Chase, 2008). Participant narratives expressed through stories present a particular version of how life is experienced and understood (Webster & Mertova, 2007). Yet, participant stories are not merely personal; they are influenced by the collective social, cultural, and professional narratives which inform the participants’ thinking and practice. Further, Amsterdam and Bruner (2000) maintain that opportunities for narrative reflection provide insights into participants’ practice not only as part of a larger or context-specific profession, but also as a way of thinking or “a way of life” (p. 282) in teaching.

Data Analysis Upon completion of transcription, narrative summaries of the interview texts were composed and sent to each participant as a form of member checking (Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Two cycles of coding were then performed on the original interview data. Firstcycle coding began with reading and re-reading each transcript. Key words and phrases were underlined, and notes based on the in vivo terms—the language that participants used in the interview texts—were made in the margins, which formed an initial set


Anne Benoit of codes. Field notes from the interviews were reviewed, and analytic memos were generated to explore the salience of the initial in vivo codes across cases. In the second cycle, pattern coding (Saldaña, 2009) was performed to identify clusters of responses that suggest particular categories. Results of pattern coding were organized and placed in a thematic visual matrix which supports the identification of themes and also serves as a confirmatory check on emerging categories (Miles & Huberman, 1994). Once all codes/themes fit comfortably within each evolving category and no new themes emerge, coding was considered complete and categories were finalized. The findings are discussed more broadly in light of the relevant literature.

The Data Participants’ relational learning experiences clustered in three categories: Back Porch Conversations, Learning Conversations, and Self-Reflective Dialogues.

Valerie, Associate Professor of Biology: Back Porch Conversations Valerie says of her relational learning experiences, “the most helpful for me have been the informal interactions.” She characterizes her learning relationships with colleagues as back porch conversations that enhance the partners’ mutual learning and provide opportunities for knowledge sharing: I have dear colleagues that I talk with about our frustrations with the students. Through those conversations, we bring to the table different insights and points of view about what is going on with the students and why that might be happening. We also swap different ways that we can actually go about teaching. For example, one of my colleagues was having difficulty trying to explain a concept to a class of hers, and we were talking about why that was because they were not coming from an experience where they’d even have to think about the construct. So I actually gave her a strategy that I learned about that was very simplistic in nature but that really helped to illustrate the construct and how it actually affects people. So that was one of those ‘back porch conversations’ I like to talk about. Valerie’s colleagues have expanded her thinking in unexpected ways. Here she presents an example of an interaction with a trusted learning partner that opened a


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships gap in her thinking and prompted her to inquire more deeply into an assumption she held about her faculty colleagues: Sometimes we have to go to these talks on campus, and they are just abysmal. I was like, how did you not prepare for that talk? That’s what’s running through my mind: How did you not prepare? And it’s completely horrible. And my friend was like, ‘You know, not everyone can do what you can do. It’s a talent and a skill.’ And I was like, ‘Oh, ****’ (laughs). I had never thought of it like that before. But it was an assumption. I thought I was good about that because I try not to assume things about people based on their gender or race. I never thought about not assuming things about people based on intellect or academic prowess. I’ve learned not to just assume. Another instance in which she relied on her learning partners to help her reframe an experience involved her reaction to receiving negative evaluations from her students in her early years at her current institution: The first year, I came in with certain expectations of what these kids should be able to do. As a result, the evaluations were horrible, absolutely horrible. It was really embarrassing. My feelings were hurt, and I’m willing to admit that. I felt a little humiliated because the institution I came from before, all the kids loved me to death. So to get this blow that said, ‘No, you’re not as good as you think you are’ kind of makes you want to change a little bit. While the description might sound as if Valerie’s response was rational and logical, leading to a painless resolution, she was quick to point out that the experience contained a strong emotional charge for her. She admits that she was angry both at herself and at her students and acknowledges that it would have been easy for her to blame the students and continue doing what she had been doing in her teaching. After working through her shock and discomfort, Valerie sought insights and advice from her trusted colleagues so that she could “do something with my pedagogy in order to better meet the needs of the students.”

Tara, Associate Professor of Psychology: Learning Conversations While Valerie’s talks with colleagues about teaching are usually unplanned, Tara engages in what she identifies as frequent learning conversations with one or more trusted department members to process the day’s teaching and learning experiences:


Anne Benoit We have professional conversations almost every day; you know, sometimes it’s debriefing at the end of the day, or we talk with each other about different students—certainly keeping confidentiality—but exploring how did that work out or this really worked well today. We troubleshoot together if we get stuck, and you have somebody to ‘think it through’ with, so that’s been helpful. I have those professional friends that I can talk to. We do it for each other, and we have these conversations—learning conversations, if you will. In a previous learning partnership, Tara worked informally with another colleague in her department who had an extensive background in teaching and learning. Tara describes her learning from this interaction as significant, and here she articulates the impact of this interaction on her evolving conception of her teaching practice and stance: We looked at all different kinds of teaching structures; we looked at everything from the banking model all the way from constructivist to transformative. I really had to stop and think about what kind of teacher I wanted to be and what kind of teacher my students needed me to be. I was in the position [then] where I saw myself as a ‘partner’ in their learning; I saw myself as working with students, but I was still in the power seat, still the expert. Then I learned about transformative learning, and I thought, ‘Oh my God,’ and really, all kinds of light bulbs went on for me, and I thought to myself, once again, I have to make another shift.

Louisa, Associate Professor of American Studies: Self-Reflective Dialogues Louisa notes her interactions with her learning partners at her college have provided both a dialogic context for self-reflection and a learning space which has supported her in examining her beliefs about teaching: It was talking to other people and hearing how they teach and also reframing the conversation—so changing it from ‘My students can’t do’ to ‘What ways can I help my students engage with.’ I think that, for me, was a turning point, realizing [teaching] is an exchange. So there’s more intentionality and thinking about the way you do the things you do; that has been what [my learning partners] really helped me with—just letting me process things. Louisa mentions elsewhere that she worked informally on her teaching with a close colleague from another department, which provided her with valuable feedback on


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships her teaching. She emphasizes, however, that her learning from the interaction would not have been possible without mutual trust and professional goodwill: I was very welcoming of her in my class because we did trust each other—more correctly, I trusted her—I trusted her to be a ‘good student’; I trusted her to do the things she said she was going to do, and then I got the benefit of her feeling like she could be open with me about my teaching—whether it was a positive or a negative thing. Louisa’s learning partners have enhanced her understanding of her own teaching. Here she recounts the content of a dialogue with a learning partner and includes her reflective insights gleaned during the interaction: I always used power points, right? And [my learning partner] was like, ‘Well, why do you use power points?’ I said, ‘Cause that’s the best way to learn.’ And she said, ‘No, it’s not. What do you use power point for?’ And I was like, ‘I don’t know.’ And she was like, ‘Well, why do you use them?’ And I said, ‘Oh, if I don’t use power points, I would just talk and talk and talk.’ So I realized it was to organize myself; it wasn’t for their learning. And then that made me realize that all my power points have pictures, not words, because the picture triggers the words for me. It doesn’t trigger it for them. But it never even occurred to me. Until she asked me that, I never really thought about it. I thought, well, the pictures are just a really good way. If they’ve got the image, they can have a trigger. She was like, ‘Well, why would it?’ I was like, ‘Of course! It works really well for me.’

Discussion The purpose of the study was to examine experiences of informal faculty learning from relationships. Participant stories begin to offer insights into the informal relational learning of faculty members that occurs apart from structured faculty learning and development programs. This study adds an important but often unacknowledged dimension to current models of faculty learning not often addressed in studies of faculty development. Valerie and Tara emphasize the role of significant others in their critical reframing, while Louisa identifies how her learning partners created not only a relational context for her reflection, but also an accepting space to process contradictory perspectives.


Anne Benoit Kreber (2004) characterizes reflection, especially reflection on the premises that underscore teachers’ thinking and practice, as particularly difficult for educators but necessary for learning that has the potential to result in perspective change. Scribner and Donaldson (2001) identify a rigid focus on tasks and goals, a common practice in faculty learning programs, rather than reflective dialogue as a substantial barrier to significant adult learning. Taylor (2007) acknowledges relational interaction as an important component of adult conceptual change. The salience of relational learning for perspective change identified in participants’ experiences is supported by the literature in adult and transformative learning (Robertson, 1996; Saltiel & Sgroi, 1996; Yorks & Kasl, 2002; Choy, 2009; Stevens-Long, Shapiro, & McClintock, 2012). Sadler’s (2008) study of teaching development in higher education also highlighted the role of colleagues in faculty learning. However, his participants emphasized the instrumental nature of the knowledge and strategies shared by faculty colleagues, a finding that aligns with the utilitarian category Carter (2002) identified in her study of workplace peer learning. In contrast, the participants in the current study indicated their learning relationships provided a nurturing interpersonal context for examining their assumptions. Participants’ stories point to the potential for informal relational dialogues to provide a context for the reflection required for perspective change, a finding which is consistent with the theoretical and empirical literature in adult and transformative learning (Daloz, 1986; Baumgartner, 2002; Carter, 2002; Dirkx, 2006; Taylor, 2008; Lysaker & Furuness, 2011). Participants in the current study described their learning interactions as marked by deep respect, acceptance, and valuing of the learning partners’ experience and knowledge. Similar descriptions were also reported in the peer learning studies of Eisen (2001), Carter (2002), Gilly (2004), and Swartz and Triscari (2011). A key feature of the participants’ learning partnerships was an equitable relationship between peers. The mutual trust and admiration experienced by participants likely enhanced the development of a relational context for their learning. Further, the continuity and confirmation evident in their relational interactions and dialogues contributed to participants’ openness and willingness to engage with contradictory information and opposing perspectives.


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships While Tara’s learning partnership occurred within a particular academic department, the other two participants’ partnerships were cross-department and cross-disciplinary, providing increased opportunities for knowledge sharing and exposure to alternative viewpoints. Swartz and Triscari’s (2011) self-study of their collaborative writing partnership also highlighted the value of the partners’ disparate knowledge and experience and suggested these differences added richness and depth to their mutual yet variable learning.

Study Limitations Several limitations are inherent in the study. Participants self-selected to be part of the original inquiry. Had male faculty members, as well as those from different academic disciplines, institutional categories, or career stages been included in the current study, the analysis would no doubt have produced different findings. In addition, no observations of participants’ teaching were conducted, nor were learning relationship interactions observed. Therefore, participants’ claims related to changes in beliefs or practices are limited to their comments and statements. Despite these limitations, this inquiry was systematically planned and conducted. The quality of the data is supported by an audit trail which strengthens its findings and conclusions. Qualitative and narrative inquiry standards of trustworthiness were met through various strategies: member checking; analytic memoing; including data from field notes in the analysis; grounding interpretations in the data; and portraying participants and their learning experiences with rich and detailed description.

Conclusions Change in teaching practice requires a change in perspective. Such change often involves a degree of loss and the release of sometimes long-held beliefs about the selfas-teacher and what has always been “true” in one’s teaching practice. Peer learning partnerships that emerge from respectful friendships can support this transition by providing a developmental bridge (Kegan, 1994) between faculty learners’ old way and new way of knowing and teaching.


Anne Benoit Those tasked with teaching enhancement in higher and further education should consider the value of alternative models of adult learning in their work with faculty, including relational and transformative theories of learning. Faculty developers and center administrators should not assume that less than optimal attendance or participation in formal faculty learning events necessarily means that learning is not occurring on college campuses. Significant learning that supports perspective change can happen in numerous informal contexts and locales on college campuses—even on the back porch.

References Amsterdam, A. G., & Bruner, J. S. (2000). Minding the law: How courts rely on storytelling, and how their stories change the way we understand the law—and ourselves. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Arum, R., & Roksa, J. (2010). Academically adrift: Limited learning on college campuses. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Baumgartner, L. M. (2002). Living and learning with HIV/AIDS: Transformational tales continued. Adult Education Quarterly, 53(1), 44-59. Belenky, M. F., Clinchy, B. M., Goldberger, N. R., & Tarule, J. M. (1986). Women’s ways of knowing: The development of self, voice, and mind. New York: Basic Books. Benoit, A. (2013). Learning from the inside out: A narrative study of college teacher development. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. Lesley University. Berger, J. (2004). Dancing on the threshold of meaning: Recognizing and understanding the growing edge. Journal of Transformative Education, 2(4), 336–351. Brookfield, S. (1986). Understanding and facilitating adult learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Bruner, J. (1965). The art of discovery. In R. C. Anderson & D. P. Ausubel (Eds.), Readings in the psychology of cognition (pp. 606–620). New York: Holt, Rinehart.

Buber, M. (1958). I and thou. New York: Scribner. Carter, T. J. (2002). The importance of talk to midcareer women’s development: A collaborative inquiry. The Journal of Business Communication, 39, 55–91. Chase, S. (2008). Multiple lenses, voices, approaches. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Collecting and Interpreting Qualitative Materials, 3, 57–94. Choy, S. (2009). Transformational learning in the workplace. Journal of Transformative Education, 7(1), 65–84. Coombs, P. H. (1985). The world crisis in education: A view from the eighties. New York: Oxford University Press. Cranton, P. (1994). Understanding and promoting transformative learning: A guide for educators of adults. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Cranton, P. (2006). Fostering authentic relationships in the transformative classroom. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 111, 5–13. Cranton, P., & King, K. (2003). Transformative learning as a professional development goal. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 98, 31–37. Daloz, L. (1986). Effective teaching and mentoring. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.


What Lies Beneath: Exploring Experiences of Faculty Learning From Informal Relationships Daloz, L. (1999). Mentor: Guiding the journey of adult learners. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

educational development. International Journal for Academic Development, 9, 29–49.

Denzin, N. K., & Lincoln, Y. S. (2000). The discipline and practice of qualitative research. Handbook of Qualitative Research, 2, 1–28.

Lincoln, Y. S., & Guba, E. G. (1985). Naturalistic inquiry. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.

Dirkx, J. M. (2006). Engaging emotions in adult learning: A Jungian perspective on emotion and transformative learning. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 109, 15–26. Eisen, M. J. (2001). Peer-based professional development viewed through the lens of transformative learning. Holistic Nursing Practice, 16(1), 30–42. Gadamer, H. G. (1991). Truth and method. New York: Crossroad. Gilly, M. S. (2004). Experiencing transformative education in the corridors of a nontraditional doctoral program. Journal of Transformative Education, 2, 231–241. Guba, E. G., & Lincoln, Y. S. (1998). Competing paradigms in qualitative research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln, (Eds.), The Landscape of Qualitative Research (pp. 105–117). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Hacker, A., & Dreifus, C. (2010). Higher education: How colleges are wasting our money and failing our kids—and what we can do about it. New York: Times Books. Illeris, K. (2004). Adult education and adult learning. Malabar, FL: Krieger. Jarvis, P. (2006). Towards a comprehensive theory of human learning. New York: Routledge. Keeping, L. M., English, L. M., & Fleming-Courts, N. (2001). Informal and incidental learning with patients who use continuous ambulatory peritoneal dialysis. Nephrology Nursing Journal, 28(3), 313–322. Kegan, R. (1982). The evolving self: Problem and process in human development. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Kegan, R. (1994). In over our heads: The mental demands of modern life. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Kreber, C. (2004). An analysis of two models of reflection and their implications for

Livingstone, D. W. (2001). Adult’s informal learning: Definitions, findings, gaps and future research. NALL Working Paper #212001. Retrieved from: http://www.nall/ca/ res/21adultsinformal learning.htm. Lysaker, J., & Furuness, S. (2011). Space for transformation: Relational, dialogic pedagogy. Journal of Transformative Education, 9(3), 183–197. Marsick, V., & Watkins, K. (1990). Informal and incidental learning. London: Routledge. Marsick, V., & Watkins, K. (2001). Informal and incidental learning. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 89, 25–34. Mezirow, J. (1978). Perspective transformation. Adult Education Quarterly, 28(2), 100–110. Mezirow, J. (1991). Transformative dimensions of adult learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Mezirow, J., & Associates. (1990). Fostering critical reflection in adulthood: A guide to transformative and emancipatory learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Mezirow, J., & Associates (Eds.) (2000). Learning as transformation: Critical perspectives on a theory in progress. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Miles, M. B., & Huberman, A. M. (1994). Qualitative data analysis: An expanded sourcebook. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Otero, G. G., & Chambers-Otero, S. (2000). Relational Learning: Towards a Human Ecology in 21st Century Schools. Jolimont, BC: Incorporated Association of Registered Teachers of Victoria. Portnow, K., Popp, N., Broderick, M., Drago-Severson, E., & Kegan, R. (1998). Transformational learning in adulthood. Focus on Basics, 2, 22–27. Robertson, D. (1996). Facilitating transformative learning: Attending to the dynamics of the educational helping relationship. Adult Education Quarterly, 47, 41–53.


Anne Benoit Sadler, I. (2008). Development of new teachers in higher education: Interactions with students and other influences upon approach to teaching. Unpublished dissertation. The University of Edinburgh. Saldaña, J. (2009). The coding manual for qualitative researchers. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Saltiel, I., & Sgroi, A. (1996). The power of the partner in adult learning. Presentation at the American Association for Adult and Continuing Education Conference. Charlotte, N. C. Schugurensky, D. (2000). The forms of informal learning: Towards a conceptualization of the field. NALL Working Paper #19-2000. Retrieved from: http://www.nall.ca/res/19 formsofinformal.htm Scribner, J. P., & Donaldson, J. F. (2001). The dynamics of group learning in a cohort: From non-learning to transformative learning. Educational Administration Quarterly, 37, 605–636. Spellings Report on the Future of Higher Edu cation. (2006). A test of leadership: Charting the future of U.S. higher education. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Education.

Stevens-Long, J., Shapiro, S. A., & McClintock, C. (2012). Passionate scholars: Transformative learning in doctoral education. Adult Education Quarterly, 62(2), 180–198. Sullivan, H. S. (1953). The interpersonal theory of psychiatry. New York: Norton. Swartz, A. L., & Triscari, J. S. (2011). A model of transformative collaboration. Adult Education Quarterly, 61(4), 324–340. Taylor, E. W. (2007). An update of transformative learning theory: A critical review of the empirical research (1999-2005). International Journal of Lifelong Education, 26, 173–191. Taylor, E. W. (2008). Transformative learning theory. New Directions in Adult and Continuing Education, 119, 5–15. Webster, L., & Mertova, P. (2007). Using narrative inquiry as a research method: An introduction to using critical event narrative analysis in research on teaching and learning. New York: Routledge. Yorks, L., & Kasl, E. (2002). Learning from the inquiries: Lessons for using collaborative inquiry as an adult learning strategy. New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 94, 93–104.

Anne Benoit,

Ph.D., is currently Senior Lecturer and Coordinator of Undergraduate Peer Tutor & TA Programs at Curry College in Milton, Massachusetts. Anne has worked with both traditional undergraduate and adult students at several institutions and has taught in a variety of learning contexts, including K-12, community corrections, and higher education. Her forthcoming article in New Directions for Teaching and Learning (2015) examines adult transformation through critical learning events. Anne is the recipient of the 2014 AERA SIG-FTED Robert J. Menges New Researcher Award. LINK TO: http://www.curry.edu/directory-bios/benoit-anne-c.html https://www.academia.edu/AnneBenoit 70 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship Theodore Michael Christou, Queen’s University

ABSTRACT Social Studies was introduced into the Ontario curriculum in 1937, integrating history and geography, but also various matters pertaining to law, government, and civics, as a means of focusing students’ attention on the world around them thoughtfully and critically. Informed by the past, students were directed to gaze upon the future and to take action within their communities. Civic engagement and Social Studies were very closely linked. This essay argues that Social Studies education has a particular role to play in teacher education, as a medium of cultivating meaningful experiences relating to contemporary life and as a means of exploring the disciplinary roots of the subject. Teacher education is explored as a site for “take action” projects, which relate citizenship, historical thinking, and social action.

Introduction

T

his paper explores Social Studies as a curriculum subject and as an aspect of teacher education at the elementary level. In particular, it focuses on the historical purposes of the subject in Ontario—social justice and civic engagement—and it explores Take Action projects as a means of relating contemporary teaching methods to these purposes. The paper argues that exploration of the unique history and foundations of Social Studies is imperative within the context of teacher education. Further, the paper argues that teacher candidates should have opportunities to do Social Studies rather than to learn about the subject. While the


Theodore Michael Christou discussion focuses on Ontario, Social Studies methods courses are a staple across the landscape of Canadian teacher education. Unlike most subjects that form the basis of public school curricula in Canada, Social Studies has a birth date. It is hard to trace when, for instance, English became a school subject, yet in Ontario, the subject was introduced in 1937; at the elementary level, it served as a means of integrating history and geography, but also various matters pertaining to law, government, and civics, as a means of concentrating students’ attention on the world around them thoughtfully and critically (Christou, 2012). The Social Studies curriculum was fashioned in the cauldron of post-Depression era progressivist thinking about project-based learning (called enterprises) and social justice. One year earlier, Alberta was the first Canadian province to include Social Studies as a distinct subject in the formal curriculum (von Heyking, 2006).

Social Studies Seen Historically Social Studies has a particular role to play in schooling and, more specifically, in teacher education. The subject’s educative potential is firmly rooted in its history. At the time of its foundation within the Canadian curriculum context, Social Studies was meant to foster an ethos of social action in teachers and learners, whilst simultaneously facilitating an ethos of sustained civic engagement (Christou, 2013). The year 2014 marks the 87th birthday of the Social Studies in Ontario. This reminder may serve as a prompt to teacher educators and teacher candidates, primarily those involved with the elementary grades, to reevaluate commonplace teaching and learning practices. It is vital that teacher candidates understand the particular purposes that Social Studies were meant to fulfill within Canadian schools. In practice, the subject risks being conflated with banal and superficial engagements of popular teaching units that focus on inquiry into pioneer villages or medieval times. Engaging teacher candidates with curriculum history and with Take Action projects during the tenure of their teacher education program can serve two purposes: a) demonstrate how one involves a group of learners with the practical concerns of the broader community; and b) foster historical thinking, which is fundamental to the development of historical literacy on a metacognitive level. Both purposes are more valuable than the memorization of historical and geographical content that will soon be forgotten. This is particularly pertinent in teacher education. In this context, teacher candidates must overcome the “apprenticeship of observation” (Lortie, 1975), the formative influence that hundreds of hours spent in the classroom as students has 72 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship had on their conceptions of teaching and learning. This overcoming is facilitated by, if not dependent upon, opportunities to experience “contexts of productive learning” (Sarason, 1996, p. 343) during the course of preservice teacher education programs. When teacher candidates have the opportunity to experience Social Studies projects that engage them meaningfully with the tasks of citizenship, they have occasions to conceptualize teaching and learning in potentially different and dynamic ways. Shirley Engle (1986), commenting on the Social Studies, identified the tension that arises in teacher education where learners are told about their disciplines without ever engaging with them: For reasons I have never fully understood, most history professors completely change their colors when they step out of their role as research scholars and take on the mantle of “herr” professor. As scholars, they hold truth in great tenuousness; they are not all of one mind; their disciplines are hotbeds of controversy; they are forever correcting one another’s errors. But once they have laid aside their research eyeshades and donned the teaching robes, they become authorities whose mission is considered to be the transmission of their superior knowledge to students. (p. 21) Engle makes three critical points that relate to the teaching of Social Studies within teacher education institutions. First, the subject should not be concerned simply with the transmission of knowledge; this leads to inert understanding and passive approaches to learning. Second, it is entirely appropriate, if not essential, to introduce students to authentic social problems and dilemmas, which challenge teacher candidates to work on solutions and plan appropriate action. Third, authentic scholarship in Social Studies involves controversy and uncertainty; neat parcels of knowledge are disconnected from the messy reality of social living and the transformative nature of scholarship. When discussing the Social Studies in the province of Ontario, one exclusively considers Grades 1–6. Ontario’s students begin a more disciplinary approach in Grade 7, as History and Geography replace the Social Studies. Outside of Ontario, with the exception of Quebec, the subject persists into middle school and secondary school education. With respect to teacher education, then, the discussion here relates most explicitly to that in the Primary and Junior Divisions, wherein every candidate within the Ontarian context is by necessity enrolled in a curriculum course in Social Studies methods. These methods courses tend to concentrate on an examination of the curriculum, on lesson and unit planning, on resource development, and on some aspect of experiential learning. Regardless of context, Ken Osborne (2012) notes:


Theodore Michael Christou Since at least the 1890s, historians and history educators have largely agreed that students must learn to approach the facts of history critically, not least by understanding the relationship between “the past” and “history.” … However, researchers have repeatedly shown that classroom practice often lags far behind the principles formulated by historians and history educators. (p. v) His essay reminds us that the teaching of Social Studies is, despite a century-long debate, still predominately taught using pre-fabricated units, even as history is learned via textbooks and limited to recitation. “All too often,” he laments, “history is not a stimulus to thought and imagination, but merely a charge on the memory, and usually a short-lived charge at that” (p. v). From a curricular standpoint, Quebec stands alone in offering courses in Social Sciences at the elementary and secondary level. Social Sciences are inclusive of History, Geography, and Citizenship education and, in this respect, are similar to Social Studies as understood outside of Ontario. The objective of Quebec’s elementary Social Sciences curriculum is to help the student “to construct his/her social awareness in order to act as a responsible, informed citizen” (Quebec Ministry of Education, 2001, p. 181) and it encompasses three “cycles” that are typical of the expanding horizons model of Social Studies education; this model, which is recognizable across North America, involves a progression from the study of one’s self in space and time to increasingly distant contexts, both historical and geographical (Wade, 2002; BoyleBaise & Zevin, 2013). Quebec’s unique approach to history education has been studied historically (Bouvier, Allard, Aubin, & Larouche, 2012) and contemporaneously (Létourneau, 2011; Éthier & Lefrançois, 2011) in relation to the province’s particular challenges and educational concerns. Within the Ontarian context, the particular roots of Social Studies as a curriculum subject belie its current disconnectedness from social life. The subject’s foundations are intertwined with the person of Duncan McArthur—historian, educator, and namesake of Queen’s University’s Faculty of Education—who served as Minister of Education in 1937. This is year that Social Studies was introduced to Ontario’s formal curriculum, or Programme of Studies. His vision for education was rooted in a vision of social cooperation and active engagement with the world (Christou, 2013). What characterized the 1937 Programme was a desire to transform a course of studies seen as overly concerned with the inculcation of academic knowledge. Textbook learning, as McArthur noted in 1934, was not only narrow, but its mandate also compelled teachers to push through textbooks at the peril of ignoring broad student interest, activity, and exploration: 74 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship The system of authorizing special text-books for courses of study has likewise led to the encouragement of the formation of habits of mind which cannot be regarded as otherwise than undesirable. The authorizing of a particular book as a text gives to the printed word within the book a literal inspiration. It becomes easy for the student to assume that all of the truth relating to a subject is contained within the covers of the book. (cited in Christou, 2013, p. 288) McArthur believed education that focuses on memorization and recall of facts, figures, and dates does not make students historically, or socially, literate. Facts and figures, historical and otherwise, “once committed to memory are soon forgotten. The information temporarily acquired is seldom related to the structure of knowledge or experience possessed by the pupil” (p. 288). Teacher candidates should have the opportunity to think about what Social Studies was meant to accomplish and, by implication, what it can serve to do within the broader scope of public education. The subject may be conceptualized as a means of provoking wonder and encouraging civic action within a teacher education program. In relation to civic action, Social Studies facilitates opportunities for teacher candidates to consider how they can create learning spaces for their students that will challenge them to think about their place in the world and what it means to live ethically and well.

Social Studies and Social Life In The School and the Society, John Dewey (1907) argues that schoolwork and lessons, consequently, can be judged in “relation to human activity—so that they are not simply external facts, but are fused and welded with social conceptions regarding the life and progress of humanity” (p. 64). Dewey was troubled by the absence of a meaningful relationship between school activities and the authentic challenges of life. Engaging students with these challenges was a principle impetus in early Social Studies education (Christou, 2012), and it reserves the potential to be a powerful means of developing cultivating civic engagement and historical literacy. The Historical Thinking Concepts developed at the Centre for Historical Consciousness at the University of British Columbia offer a conceptual and linguistic framework for working with the concept of historical literacy. Most recently, under the leadership of Peter Seixas, Canada Research Chair in Historical Thinking at the University of British Columbia, this framework has been rearticulated as The Big Six Historical Thinking Concepts. The six concepts articulation serves as a linguistic and cognitive frame for teacher education and professional development (Seixas & Morton, 2012).


Theodore Michael Christou In 2013, these concepts were cited and used as a structural framework in Ontario’s revised Social Studies curriculum (Ontario Ministry of Education, 2013). Ontario was among the last provinces to adopt the framework, following jurisdictions such as Alberta, British Columbia, and New Brunswick, which spearheaded these reforms. The reforms, which focus on the explicit engagement with historical thinking and active learning in Social Studies classrooms, are rooted in the pedagogical terrain that John Dewey (1907) tilled a century ago when he argued that teaching and learning tasks must correlate to authentic life activities. As Social Studies methods courses are effectively concentrated upon the curriculum expectations for the subject, teacher candidates must now reconfigure their thinking even as the curriculum document itself has undergone a paradigm shift in Ontario. Candidates must find a way to do Social Studies with students. They cannot no longer teach the subject out of a textbook. Teacher education, by implication, has to lead the way. Each of the Big Six represents an authentic contest faced by historians. Seixas and Morton (2012) note, “each historical thinking concept reveals a tension, or difficulty, that may be irresolvable in any ultimate way” (p. 3). This conceptual framework can serve as a powerful tool in teacher education for the introduction of that same “controversy and uncertainty,” which Engle, cited above, believed was the key to authentic teaching and learning experiences in Social Studies. This framework serves as a means of developing historical literacy. With respect to teacher candidates, this means cultivating habits of mind and action. While each of the Big Six entails a way of examining the past, each also serves as a lens for framing contemporary social problems: a) Establishing significance of particular questions or contexts; b) Examining primary sources in addition to secondary source materials; c) Contemplating both the causes and consequences of phenomena or events; d) Exploring forces of continuity and change; e) Bearing in mind multiple perspectives; and f) Considering ethical questions. By incorporating each of them into the Ontario Social Studies curriculum, the Ministry of Education has made it clear that the Big Six have a broader and more potent purpose. Each began as a habit of authentic historical research, but has been adopted as a critical element of Social Studies education and, by implication, of civic life.

Social Studies, Social Ethics The seminal purpose of Social Studies education can be conceived as a fundamentally ethical one. How ought we to live? What is our relationship to others? 76 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship What is our role within the democratic state? Thus conceived, Social Studies is not something that teacher candidates must study, it is something that they ought to do. It is a means of developing engaged and historically literate citizens who practice the habits of mind that historical study helped to cultivate. For teacher candidates, Social Studies education can be transformed by the introduction of Take Action projects in the elementary school. Such an approach in teacher education would resemble a project-based learning approach, which research has shown to foster community, particularly in diverse contexts (Lave & Wenger 1991; Cornelius & Herrenkohl, 2004; Beneke & Ostrosky, 2009), and to have a positive effect upon knowledge retention (Thomas, 2000). Ohn and Wade (2009) demonstrate that project-based learning is most effective when concentrated upon service to the local community. Ferguson (2012) has demonstrated how her introduction of such projects during the practicum at the University of Prince Edward Island has helped teacher candidates emerge as leaders and innovators in their communities. In teacher education, Social Studies Methods classrooms—required of all teacher candidates in the province of Ontario prior to certification—offer fertile ground for practice and development of disciplinary thinking and application.

Taking Action in Social Studies Classrooms What might Take Action projects in teacher education programs entail? There are seven steps that can frame authentic Social Studies proposed projects, which have been articulated at greater length by Craig Harding and Alan Sears in the Social Studies Handbook entitled, “Take Action — Make a Difference” (2008). Guided by student interests, local context, and news stories, teachers can ask students to: a) Identify a concern in the local community, rooted in the notion of social justice; b) Research this concern, examining various points of view and actions that they could take to ameliorate the matter; c) Find out who the stakeholders are, and who might support the concern; d) Create a plan, which involves deciding what actions can be taken and how to involve various stakeholders; e) Take action, implementing the plan; f) Evaluate the plan and actions, reflecting on the experience and the actions taken; and g) Share the results of the action plan with peers and with teachers in the Social Studies. Each step concentrates teacher candidates upon central questions, and opens up instructional opportunities, which can be collectively, cooperatively, or individually approached. Harding and Sears’ text is written for students in the elementary years, featuring colourful images and transparent instructions. Its clarity of articulation serves


Theodore Michael Christou to make it useful, also, for teacher candidates who are deliberating the curricular potential and traditions of the Social Studies. Table 1 serves as a précis of the suggested framework and questions that can be used to guide the students’ activities. Table 2 identifies activities that can be pursued by teacher candidates during their practica with relation to each step, both within the primary and the junior classrooms. Each table elaborates on questions raised in Harding and Sears’ work.

Table 1 Suggested Framework and Questions SEVEN STEPS

CENTRAL QUESTIONS

1. Identify your concern.

What is my concern? Why am I concerned? What do I hope to achieve by becoming involved?

2. Research your concern.

Where can I get information about this? What are the different points of view? What actions could I take?

3. Find out who supports you.

Who else might be interested in taking action? How can I get others involved?

4. Create a plan.

Are we going to take any action? If so, what action are we going to take? Who do we need to talk to?

5. Take action.

Are we doing what we planned to do? Do we need to make any changes to our plan?

6. Evaluate the plan.

What part of the plan worked well? What part didn’t work? What did we learn from our experience?

7. Apply your learning.

How can we apply our results? How might we build on our action?


Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship Table 2 Activities for Teacher Candidates SEVEN STEPS

ACTIONS FOR THE PRIMARY CLASSROOM

ACTIONS FOR THE JUNIOR CLASSROOM


• Conduct a class survey. • Go for a neighbourhood walk to identify concerns.

• Conduct a class and school survey. • Conduct an online poll.

2. Research your • Bring in a guest speaker from • Identify service organizations—local, national, concern. a community organization. and international—that take • Get input from school action. Explore their websites. administration and other • Examine newspapers for teachers about possible coverage of the concern courses of action and identified. perceptions of the issue. 3. Find out who supports you.

• Telephone government offices (with respect to local concerns, the city council, or the office of the mayor). • Reach out to service organizations involved in similar projects. • Compose a letter, an email, and a list of questions for interviews collaboratively.

• Telephone and email government offices (with respect to local concerns, the city council, or the office of the mayor). • Reach out to service organizations involved in similar projects. • Begin by introducing students to letter writing, appropriate composition of email messages, and qualities of effective questions for telephone conversations.

4. Create a plan.

• Collaboratively brainstorm ideas for taking action. Create a collective mind map. • Narrow down the possibilities to two or three steps of action. • List these steps and set deadlines for implementation that suit the class schedule. • Discuss with the class how you will address the steps that you have listed, and begin to assign roles for each member of the classroom.

• Model how to brainstorm ideas for taking action. • Allow students opportunities to create a mind map independently. • Model how ideas can be clustered and how to generate several concrete steps to pursue in taking action. • Allow students opportunities (independently or in small groups) to generate steps for taking action based on their interest and sequence these.


Theodore Michael Christou Table 2 Activities for Teacher Candidates (cont.) SEVEN STEPS

ACTIONS FOR THE PRIMARY CLASSROOM

ACTIONS FOR THE JUNIOR CLASSROOM

5. Take action.

• Create posters. • Where appropriate, place a notification for the action on the school website. • Call local media (newspapers and radio) to raise awareness of action. • Follow the steps outlined in the action plan. • Develop a class checklist to keep track of progress. • On a daily or weekly basis, address the progress made with the class, and allow students to note any successes or problems.

• Create posters and distribute those throughout the school and, where appropriate, the community. Use social media and the school website to spread the word. • Call local media (newspapers and radio) to raise awareness of action. • Follow the steps outlined in the action plan and track these as a class. • Individual students can keep a journal of their actions and reflections. • Develop checklists for individual and collective action.


• Discuss what the results of taking action were. - What worked? - What did not work? - What would you have done differently?

• Discuss what the results of taking action were. Students can write a response to the teacher and to any supporting agencies reflecting on the plan. - What worked? - What did not work? - What would you have done differently?


• Invite the school to your classroom or the auditorium and share the learning. • Create a poster display to highlight the action taken and the lessons learned.

• Develop a class symposium, where each group or individual has time to share learning. Invite parents, the school, and the community. • A poster session is an alternative to a symposium. • Develop a website and publish the summaries of each take action project’s work.


Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship The charts above serve as suggestions for teacher candidates at the Primary and Junior levels. They suggest that primary classrooms begin with a whole-class project and collaborative writing or reflection tasks. In the junior grades, Take Action projects can be individual, but also organized collectively or in small groups.

Taking Action Beyond Teacher Education Recently, 80 teacher candidates in Trinidad and Tobago undertook the responsibility of integrating Take Action projects into their teaching at the elementary level (Take Action, 2013). As is the case in Ontario, these teachers spend nearly the entire school day with their students, and could seek opportunities to integrate the Social Studies projects with other subjects, primarily literacy. The classrooms were all within the capital region, near Port of Spain. The teachers had between eight and 24 years of experience in the classroom. The projects undertaken engaged the whole classroom, rather than asking each student to work individually or in small groups to address a social concern. The projects engaged local concerns—such as noise pollution outside of the school—and international ones such as the activism of groups including Habitat for Humanity. Each teacher candidate engaged his or her classroom with the project for a period ranging from three to five months, following the framework outlined by Harding and Sears. An online publication documents reports and descriptions of Take Action projects completed in 2012 and 2013 by teacher candidates enrolled in three distinct Bachelor of Education programs (Take Action, 2013). One of these programs is located in Trinidad and Tobago; the others represent teacher education institutions in two Canadian provinces. Table 3 is the summary of one project, which serves as an indicative example of a Take Action project tailored to the elementary Social Studies classroom. This project was developed by a teacher candidate and applied within the context of her practice teaching.


Theodore Michael Christou Table 3 Suggested Framework and Questions SEVEN STEPS

CENTRAL QUESTIONS


The school garden has fallen into disrepair. A new school garden is needed, but space is limited.

2. Research your concern.

Information gathered pertained to the best methods and techniques for gardening using grow boxes.

3. Find out who supports you.

The school staff pledged to support its maintenance. The community donated tools and fertilizer, while volunteering labour.

4. Create a plan.

Three steps were outlined: a) teach students about planting and maintaining a garden in grow boxes; b) planting the garden; and c) maintaining the garden.

5. Take action.

Seeds were planted and watered daily. The teacher continued to model how to maintain these plant boxes. Class reflected on values embedded in practice, which included shared responsibility and cooperation.


The teacher monitored the garden’s progress, while also reflecting upon the students’ ability to work cooperatively to achieve common aims.


Students have continued to maintain the garden, some of which have started gardens at home.

The above is one example of how it is possible to engage teacher candidates with the planning and implementation of projects that apply their learning in teacher education directly to the needs of a classroom and, what is more, to the disciplinary foundations of a curricular subject. The actual subject of a Take Action project should be derived with the context and the students’ interests in mind, which is a challenge, that teacher candidates grapple with by necessity during their teaching practice. The above framework offers a means of aligning Social Studies education to its historical purposes, while also serving to foster an ethic of active citizenship within the context of teacher education.


Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship

Conclusions Teacher candidates are in a unique position to learn about the curriculum subjects that are the foundation of public schooling even as they determine how they might foster meaningful teaching and learning environments within the enabling constraints of these subjects. The best way to learn about the Social Studies is to participate authentically and meaningfully with actions that exemplify engaged citizenship and historical thinking. John Dewey (1936) explained this most succinctly: Democracy as a personal, an individual, way of life involves nothing fundamentally new. But when applied it puts a new practical meaning in new ideas. … Democracy as compared with other ways of life is the sole way of living which believes wholeheartedly in the process of experience as end and as means. (pp. 224–230) The Social Studies classroom offers a unique opportunity for teacher candidates to analyze the world around them and to engage with this world in light of an ongoing study of its complexities. This involves grappling with authentic social questions and problems that challenge the way that teacher candidates think about the past and the present. Social Studies education has the potential to serve as the principal vehicle for engaging teacher candidates meaningfully within the teaching and learning communities they occupy while drawing to the forefront the moral imperative of pursuing a socially responsible and just vision for educational action. History, Geography, Language, and Mathematics can be integrated within a projectbased learning approach at the elementary level, where the teacher has the opportunity to teach students for most of the day. Each discipline, bound by the Social Studies, serves to foster understanding of the complex relationship binding school subjects and life lived outside of the school grounds. This is fundamental when recognizing that the Social Studies can devolve into the benign study of past places and events even as its foundation called for an interdisciplinary approach to teaching that necessitates a dynamic engagement with lived experience. Take Action projects, woven into teacher education, may serve as means of drawing the Social Studies classroom from the medieval world to the contemporary one, in both a literal and a figurative sense.


Theodore Michael Christou

References Beneke, S., & Ostrosky, M. M. (2009). Teachers’ views of the efficacy of incorporating the project approach into classroom practice with diverse learners. Early Childhood Research and Practice, 11(1). Bouvier, F., M. Allard, P. Aubin, & M.-C. Larouche (Eds.). (2012). L’histoire nationale à l’école québécoise, regards sur deux siècles d’enseignement. Quebec, QC: Septentrion. Boyle-Baise, M., & Zevin, J. (2013). Young citizens of the world: Teaching elementary social studies through civic engagement. New York: Routledge. Christou, T. (2012). Progressive education: Revisioning and reframing Ontario’s public schools, 1919-1942. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press. Christou, T. (2013). The complexity of intellectual currents: Duncan McArthur and Ontario’s progressivist curriculum reforms. Paedagogica Historica, 49(5), 677–697. Cornelius, L. L., & Herrenkohl, L. R. (2004). Power in the classroom: How the classroom environment shapes students’ relationships with each other and with concepts. Cognition and Instruction, 22(4), 467–498. Dewey, J. (1907). The school and the society. New York: Macmillan. Dewey, J. (1936). Creative democracy: The task before us. In Boydston J. (Ed.). (1976).  John Dewey: The later works, 1925-1953, Volume 14 (pp. 224–230). Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press. Engle, S. H. (1986). Late night thoughts about the new social studies, Social Education, 50(1), 20–22. Éthier, M.-A., & Lefrançois, D. (2011). Learning and teaching history in Quebec: Assessment, context, outlook. In P. Clark (Ed.). New possibilities for the past: Shaping history education in Canada (pp. 325–343). Vancouver, BC: UBC Press. Ferguson, J. L (2012). The university course as the site for positioning pre-service teachers as agents of change. Paper presented at Sixth Working Conference on Research in Teacher

Education in Canada. November 1-3, 2012, McGill University, Montreal, QC Harding, C. J., & Sears, A. (2008). Take action: Make a difference. Toronto, ON: Pearson. Lave, E., & Wenger, E. (1991). Situated learning: Legitimate peripheral participation. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Létourneau, J. (2011). The debate on history education in Quebec. In P. Clark (Ed.), New possibilities for the past: Shaping history education in Canada (pp. 325–343). Vancouver, BC: UBC Press. Lortie, D. C. (1975). Schoolteacher: A sociological study. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Ohn, J. D., & Wade, R. (2009). Community service-learning as a group inquiry project: Elementary and middle school CiviConnections teachers’ practices of integrating historical inquiry in community service-learning. Social Studies, 100(5), 200–211. Ontario Ministry of Education. (2013). The Ontario curriculum: Social Studies, Grades 1-6. Toronto, ON: The Queen’s Printer for Ontario. Osborne, K. (2012). Foreword. In Seixas, P., & Morton, T. (2012), The big six: Historical thinking concepts. Toronto, ON: Nelson. Quebec Ministry of Education. (2001). Québec education program: Approved version. Quebec City, QC: Gouvernement de Québec. Sarason, S. B. (1996). Revisiting “the culture of the school and the problem of change.” New York: Teachers College Press. Seixas, P., & Morton, T. (2012). The big six: Historical thinking concepts. Toronto: Nelson. Take Action: Citizenship and Social Studies Projects. (2013). Retrieved from: http:// theodorechristou.ca/tmc/Take_Action__ Citizenship_and_Social_Studies_Projects. html Thomas, J. W. (2000). A review of projectbased learning. San Rafael, CA: Autodesk Foundation.


Taking Action in Teacher Education: Social Studies as a Means of Cultivating Engaged Citizenship von Heyking, A. (2006). Creating citizens: History and identity in Alberta’s schools, 1905 to 1980. Calgary: University of Calgary Press.

Wade, R. (2002). Beyond expanding horizons: New curriculum directions for elementary social studies, The Elementary School Journal, 103(2), 115–130.

Theodore Michael Christou

is an Assistant Professor at Queen’s University. He began his academic career at the University of New Brunswick in 2009. Theodore’s teaching and research pertain to the history and philosophy of education. He is the author of The Problem of Progressive Education (University of Toronto Press, 2012), winner of the Canadian History of Education Association’s Founders Prize, and of an overbearing eye (Hidden Brook Press, 2013), a book of verse and short fiction. Theodore is also the co-editor (with Shawn Michael Bullock) of Foundations in Teacher Education: A Canadian Perspective (Canadian Association for Teacher Education, 2013). LINK TO: http://historicalthinking.ca http://educ.queensu.ca/faculty/profiles/christou



Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy University of Saskatchewan

ABSTRACT Concern for teachers at the beginning of their careers has been focused on retaining teachers and inducting them into fixed professional roles. This inquiry shifts the conversation to a perspective of sustaining them on the professional knowledge landscape while attending to individual identity. The experiences of one young woman named Anna opens conversation about the ways stories from her personal life shaped who she was in her classroom. This inquiry explores the need for continuity of experience as a key to continuing identity formation and sustaining teachers at the beginning of their careers.

Introducing Anna as a Knowledge Holder Science is a challenge. What I am expected to teach in the classroom is very different from how I would naturally want to teach. If I were up north with my grandma, we would be talking about the land. Talking to me about deer-hide tanning, she would really be talking about chemistry. But it wouldn’t be “now we are studying chemistry” . . . no . . . it’s about the land. And that would be my reference . . . it’s how we explore. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, January 21, 2011)

A

nna, the participant in this inquiry, is a woman in her second year of teaching elementary school in a western Canadian prairie province. She has a strong presence and positions herself as a knowledge holder in many ways, most often in relation to her family with many references to her grandmother. While she claimed her knowledge as a teacher, she also deeply questioned it when she came into situations of tension or uncertainty.


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy “Am I living my personal teaching philosophy? How can I matter? What is my greater purpose for doing this work?” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 2010 to August 2011). Her questions were wonders about who she was rather than of what she knew. At the same time, it was who she was that was what she knew. According to Anna she was different at work than she was when she was visiting her grandmother. There was tension when she tried to integrate her familial way of learning with school expectations of learning. She expected stories that she told in her world of family to transfer into her stories about her work world of school. One of our [familial and community based] forms of correction is making fun of people. Making fun, poking fun is part of Aboriginal world view. So that’s part of who I am. It’s not the world view at my school. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, January 21, 2011) When stories from her personal world, such as the models of using humor to correct a child, did not transfer into her professional world, she experienced an interruption of her story to live by, which caused her tension. These stories of tension awakened us to her experience of identity making as an early-career teacher. We listened to stories she sustained and carried between her various worlds with Clandinin and Connelly’s (1998) words in mind. They wrote that identities are narrative constructions that take shape as life unfolds and that may, as narrative constructions are wont to do, solidify into a fixed entity, an unchanging narrative construction, or they may continue to grow and change. They may even be, indeed, almost always are, multiple depending on the life situations in which one finds oneself. (p. 25) Anna’s story to live by, her identity, was not a fixed entity but a shifting one as she struggled to align the personal with the practical in a coherent life story. Anna’s embodied past knowledge that shaped her in both her personal and practical worlds unfolded as she sought to establish connections between them. When I was with my grandmother in the summers everything was integrated with everything. But it’s also because of that integrating piece that school is so foreign for Aboriginal people. How do I use integration the way I know it from my grandmother into a class of thirty? What does that look like? How do I integrate life and land into cement walls with all the clocks on the walls? I tried making pemmican the other day. I don’t have time or money to [do] that kind of thing every day. That comes 88 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories out of my own pocket. But it was fun and it was a piece of life. When I am with my grandmother there isn’t a document outlining the outcomes before we live them. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, February 3, 2011) Anna was trying to find coherence between the knowledge she gained in her personal life and the knowledge that the history of school mandated she implement. The need for a coherent story to live by can be understood with reference to Connelly and Clandinin’s (1988) way of thinking about narrative unity, in which they explain that, a continuum within a person’s experiences . . . renders life experiences meaningful through the unity they achieve for the person . . . for narrative unities emerge from our past, bring about certain practices in the present, and guide us toward certain practices in our future. (p. 74) When Anna’s narrative unity was interrupted, she experienced tension, and it became apparent for Anna that “narrative unities could interweave both conflicting and competing plotlines within” (Clandinin et al., 2006, p. 154). To understand the tension she was feeling between the multiplicity of experiences in her personal and practical worlds over time called for an active reflection by which she attempted to put the whole together. According to Carr (1986), “the most striking occasions for such reflections are those radical conversions . . . in which a new view of life, of oneself, and of one’s future projects requires a break with reinterpretation of one’s past” (pp. 75–76). Indeed, we wondered if this was happening for Anna. She was reflecting and reinterpreting her past ideas of what it meant to be a teacher, brought to her attention by breaks in her narrative coherence. The stories of learning alongside her grandmother brought unity to this new revisioning of her professional identity. Through stories she told of her grandmother, she wove diverse experiences together in order to make sense of situations she did not understand.

The Story of Beginning Teachers in Research Literature Much of the literature about beginning teachers focuses on a deficit understanding of their experiences—of what they lack and therefore need to attain and develop coherent stories of themselves as teachers. Multiple theories describe teacher identity and the process of learning to teach as a movement through developmental stages (Fuller & Bown, 1975; Harrington & Sacks, 1984; Katz, 1972). Stages are viewed as distinct experiences in a hierarchy of phases from incomplete to whole. Fuller and Bown’s


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy (1975) work is an example of explaining teacher identity as developmental stages. They suggested teachers moved through sequences of concern, which began with identifying with the pupil rather than as a teacher, moved to a concern for survival and a loss of their idealistic fantasy of the teaching role, then toward concern for their teaching performance, and finally into concern for pupil learning as individuals with individual needs. These concerns were suggested as universal. Existing research has also focused on tensions with the technical aspects of learning to teach with the aim of fixing a beginning teacher’s problems. Perceived problems of beginning teachers (Veenman, 1984) were expressed as issues with classroom discipline, motivating students, dealing with differences, assessing student work, relationships with parents, and inadequate teaching resources. Early-career teacher attrition has been positioned “as a problem related to individual factors of burnout, resilience, personal demographics, and personal factors” or due to “contextual factors of support, salary, professional development, collaboration, nature of the context, student issues, and teacher education” (Schaefer, Long, & Clandinin, 2012, p. 106). Our approach as researchers to tension in an early-career teacher’s life was different from previous research. Instead of perceiving problems to be smoothed over, we viewed tension as a necessary part of any new experience and realized it as indication for us to be awake and attentive to understand the experience (Clandinin, Downey, & Huber, 2009). The literature suggests reasons that teachers do not succeed in the first years of their teaching. As indicated previously, many “perceived problems of beginning teachers” lead to their departure from teaching—problems that beginning teachers might not be able to overcome and subsequently lead to a career shift. In our research it became clear to us that the integration of the personal with the practical was necessary to sustain teachers during the beginning of their careers (Schaefer & Clandinin, 2011). According to Schaefer and Clandinin (2011), the shift from understanding ways we can retain teachers to ways we can sustain them in their careers is an essential shift in understanding.

Understanding Identity, Narratively For the purposes of this research, we use the term stories to live by, a narrative term for identity developed by Connelly and Clandinin (1999), which grew from the work of Dewey (1938), Schwab (1973), Polanyi (1962), and others. From Dewey comes the turn to experience as it is framed in continuity, interaction, and situation. Schwab concentrated 90 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories Connelly and Clandinin’s attention on the curriculum commonplaces of teacher, learner, subject matter, and milieu, and Polanyi directed their study to focus on ideas of self. Connelly and Clandinin (1999) became “fascinated with trying to understand teachers as knowers: knowers of themselves, of their situations, of children, of subject matter, of teaching, of learning” (p. 1). Understanding identity became an endeavor to understand the way teachers thought, and as they explored teacher identity by listening to teachers tell stories about their experiences, they came to see teacher knowledge as a storied life composition. “These stories, these narratives of experience, are both “personal— reflecting a person’s life history—and social—reflecting the milieu, the contexts in which teachers live” (p. 2). They developed the narrative educational concept “personal practical knowledge” (Connelly & Clandinin, 1988) as a way of understanding teacher knowledge, and in the process, Connelly and Clandinin (1999) began to hear teachers asking questions of identity. Questions such as, “Who am I in my story of teaching?”; “Who am I in my place in the school?”; “Who am I in children’s stories?”; “Who am I in my administrators’ stories?”; “Who am I in parents’ stories?” (p. 3). They found teachers asking questions in terms of “Who am I in this situation?” rather than “What do I know in this situation?” (p. 3). We heard Anna ask these same sorts of questions.

Narrative Inquiry as Methodology Narrative inquiry (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000) was the research methodology that shaped this project to study Anna’s interactions as a beginning teacher. Foundational to this work is the assumption that humans, individually and socially, lead storied lives. People shape their daily lives by stories of who they and others are as they interpret their past in terms of these stories. Story, in the current idiom, is a portal through which a person enters the world and by which their experience of the world is interpreted and made personally meaningful. (Connelly & Clandinin, 2006, p. 477) People tell stories about experiences they have lived that affect meaning making in a present situation. People also tell stories that they hope to live in the future, while simultaneously living out present experience in the shape of a story related to possible futures. We formulate future stories as plans before we live them, we live stories out in an interaction of many stories coming together, and we talk about experiences through stories after we have lived them, in an ongoing cycle. This temporal understanding of experience is one of the commonplaces of narrative inquiry (Connelly & Clandinin, 2006).


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy From a methodological perspective, narrative inquiry is a research frame appropriate to the study of early-career teacher experience because of this focus on continuity within an experiential framework. Teachers are whole persons engaged in an ongoing cycle of “living, telling, retelling, and reliving” (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000, p. 187) across social contexts in relation to others, in relation to institutional grand narratives, and in relation to their particular professional knowledge landscapes and cultures of teaching. Narrative inquiry focused us to think of the “continuity and wholeness of an individual’s life experience” (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000, p. 20). This predisposition set the stage for us to suppose that a beginning teacher is whole and complete as he or she begins a new career, rather than carrying on traditions of developmental stages from insufficiency toward competency as research literature has suggested in the past (Fuller & Bown, 1975; Katz, 1972; Stroot et al., 1998). Instead of observing Anna moving through a hierarchy of developmental stages toward a fixed idea of the whole teacher, we viewed her unfolding identity—her story to live by—as fluid and story based, but already whole when she stepped into the classroom.

Methods At the heart of this narrative inquiry and research text is ethical concern for the integrity of our representations of and best interests for Anna. Our methods for hearing Anna’s stories were situated in relationship over time. Throughout the two-year inquiry process, Lynne collected data through weekly research conversations that included informal talk about Anna’s experiences as well as artifacts and collages that she brought with her at times to represent those experiences. One of us wrote field notes, typed transcripts of the conversations, and wrote reflections as interim texts. We met on a weekly basis to analyze field texts. As we reflected on field notes and transcripts in the writing of research texts, we saw moments when Anna was particularly animated due to particular tensions she was experiencing. We paid attention to what she was saying because of how she was saying it, and because her thoughts and responses recurred as narrative threads in research conversations, artifacts, and field notes. Our inquiry into her stories was shaped by a three-dimensional conceptual framework. The “three commonplaces of narrative inquiry—temporality, sociality, and place—which specify dimensions of an inquiry space” (Connelly & Clandinin, 2006, p. 479) became our analytical tool for unpacking Anna’s experience. Attending to the first commonplace, we moved inward, outward, backward, and forward (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000) in time with the stories that Anna told. We were mindful that her stories always had a past, a present, and a future.


Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories The second commonplace that motivated our attention was sociality. Internal conditions, such as “feelings, hopes, desires, aesthetic reactions, and moral disposition” (Connelly & Clandinin, 2006, p. 480) were evident in the stories Anna told. Social conditions also called us to attend to the outward, external conditions around her, such as her students and professional colleagues, her family members, the culture of the institution she worked in, and other contextual factors. The third commonplace is place. “The specific concrete, physical and topological boundaries of place” (p. 481) was key to Anna’s experience on both her personal and professional knowledge landscapes. Each place she experienced on her personal landscape impacted and shaped who she was on her professional landscape. Anna held onto particular stories as she pulled them across her experiences in her familial, personal, and professional places. We share particular tension-filled moments in this research text because of the way she told them, repeatedly, across her worlds and with passion. We came to understand these repeated tellings as saving stories.

Saving Stories as a Way of Framing Experience Throughout our two years of research conversations Anna told stories from her family, stories about the land, and stories about Métis heritage. These recurring story threads were pulled across Anna’s worlds as a way to sustain a coherent story to live by. Shaping her narrative as a teacher were “saving stories” (King, 2003). Thomas King wrote that the stories we believe influence the outcome of life. He says some stories we tell over and over, and these are our saving stories. These stories point to beliefs and shape lives. “I tell them to myself, to my friends, sometimes to strangers. Because they make me laugh. Because they are a particular kind of story. Saving stories, if you will. Stories that help keep me alive” (p. 119). Telling personal saving stories became an intellectual, embodied, and deeply felt way for Anna to sustain herself on the professional knowledge landscape. The repeated telling of these stories reminded her of her beliefs, and as we listened to her scaffold meaning-making possibilities (Huber & Clandinin, 2004) for herself as a beginning teacher, we came to see how these saving stories shaped a way of understanding the personal in relation to the practical. Lopez (1990) speaks of the importance of stories as sustenance.


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other’s memory. This is how people care for themselves. (p. 48) The saliency of this reference is in our understanding that the stories Anna told were the stories she held in her own memory, that in her telling of them she was caring for herself. Attending to the multiplicity of Anna’s stories from her personal world, we saw particular saving stories that she returned to when she found herself in the midst of tension in her professional world. We saw multiple recurring personal stories shaping her emerging professional stories. In what follows, we describe three entangled saving stories that show something of who Anna was in her personal world and who she was becoming in her professional world. We begin our unpacking of the research with attention to ways familial stories shaped her professional stories to live by.

Familial Saving Stories Anna’s passion for bringing life into subject matter on her professional knowledge landscape with children dwelt on a personal foundation where everything was in relation. This foundational way of being was nurtured by her grandmother and was a way of making sense of the world. In the presence of my grandmother, I shift from teacher to learner. She isn’t explicit in her teaching. Just because she is, she teaches. She is present. She is present in her own life. Present in relation to the land. Simply being in her presence, I am learning. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 9, 2011) Our view of knowledge that originates within a family comes out of the work of Huber, Murphy, and Clandinin (2011), who suggest that “familial curriculum making” is a term used to refer to the negotiated process that one grows up with as a member of a family. It is the making of a course of life that is “relationally composed in children’s home and community places” (p. 2). Referring back to the first story in this paper, we see how Anna’s internal narrative about how to teach science was shaped by an experience with her grandmother as they learned about science in relation to the land that they lived on together. Learning outside, alongside her grandmother, was how she learned to explore. There was an openness to what the day presented, rather than the assertion of a prescribed set of outcomes. Tanning hides, which can be understood in a Western world view as 94 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories chemistry, was the subject matter that positioned Anna as learner and her grandmother as teacher, and all in relation to the land in a process of exploration. Because of this familial way of making sense, curriculum in her classroom was co-composed (Clandinin et al., 2006) in the living of relationship while still maintaining the understanding that the government curriculum document, written by others outside the classroom, was important to her work. Daily, she wrote up to four lesson plans for a particular lesson so that all the needs in her classroom aligned with government-mandated outcomes and indicators. She did this to mediate her anxiety and to fit into the institutional story. Yet, in the safety of the research space, she spoke freely about the curriculum guide as a legal document that bound her “like a ball and chain” (Research conversation, 2010). She spoke of reporting periods and standardized testing that got in the way of good teaching and learning, an understanding of teaching and learning shaped alongside her grandmother. She spoke passionately of curriculum co-composed in relationship, as her grandmother taught her, and imagined herself in relationship with the children she taught.

Saving Stories About the Land As a young child in the midst of a life of numerous relocations, one place clearly stood out as home for her. Home was a place where she knew the contour of the land and the sound of the trees. The only place on Earth that I consider home is up north, in northern Alberta. My grandmother’s old homestead is still in the family and still when I round that bend . . . ah . . . that is home. I lived there for a short time. I don’t remember it consciously much, but it’s still home and I don’t know why . . . just bush on either side. Evergreens . . . no poplar trees . . . and just peace. It’s like, I’m home. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 2010) This personal understanding of place shaped her personal knowledge landscape, and she spoke of it frequently over time in our research conversations. When she carried the knowledge of this place into her professional world, it collided violently with rows of desks, textbooks, and institutional cement walls. Anna’s saving stories tied her various personal and professional worlds together with a sense of unity and purpose. For Anna, it made sense to her to be outside, learning in relation to the land. She returned to this story frequently in research conversations: “The closer I get to home, I feel things shedding. The closer I get to that homestead and my grandmother, I feel myself shedding Western values” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 9, 2011).


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy Situated learning experiences in nature were clearly important to Anna. However, the institutional story privileged learning that occurred within classroom walls. The walls detached her from making sense of how the world is understood through land-based experiences. Technical aspects of teaching including outcomes and indicators, rows of desks with the teacher at the front of the classroom, and the search for a textbook became her focus, and she felt pushed into a box where she shaped a professional knowledge of teaching with little reference to her personal understandings. Crites (1971) warned of abstraction and contraction as strategies of modern times. He explained that images and qualities are “detached from experience to become data for the formation of generalized principles and techniques. Such abstraction enables us to give experience a new non-narrative and a temporal coherence” (p. 308). As Anna became detached from her internal narrative that included learning outside, she felt her identity shifting toward that of a technician. In the above transcript excerpt, when she said she “felt herself shedding Western values,” she is not meaning that she abandoned the technical aspects of teaching. Rather she is making space alongside the institutional story for her personal stories related to Métis heritage and her grandmother’s ways. She shaped her classroom experience of teaching with the story of her grandmother’s teachings in relationship to the land, and what she had learned from her grandmother about human relationships. Her grandmother’s ways of teaching were based in relationship and deep respect for the person she was with. Anna created this relational sense between children and herself in the classroom. If I am present in my teaching it comes out looking like passion but what it really is, is a deep relational sense for human beings. This passion for human beings doesn’t stop at the four walls of a school. It is part of my world outside the classroom too. How can I be like my grandma in four cement walls? It’s a question I ask myself each day when I am planning for my students. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 9, 2011)

Métis Heritage as Saving Story In Anna’s classroom, a relational space for diversity was important. She honoured diverse world views of her students and was attentive to the conversations between them in their classroom curriculum making and life writing. Balancing life writing (Huber et al., 2011), both hers and the children’s, with curriculum documents, was a tension for Anna. This attention to diversity was due in part to her experience within Métis culture and a prairie province with a history of residential schools, a reservation system, and treaty 96 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories benefits dependent on cultural status identification. Her cultural identity as a Métis woman growing up between two cultures meant she was familiar with living on the boundaries and, therefore, sensitive to issues of marginalization and belonging. Thinking about the way the curriculum document addresses Aboriginal and Métis perspective, another mandate that is written in the curriculum guide, but in our lived curriculum we are still living racism. Then in the written document we are supposed to somehow treat this Métis perspective as part of subject matter. I have to find a way to integrate Aboriginal perspective, from these resources that represent the heartbeat of Métis peoples, find a way to “fit” it into the curriculum. How do you fit a people’s heartbeat into that curriculum? And that curriculum document is part of a legalistic world. I keep hearing the voice of my administrator saying, “It’s a legal document.” A legal document. It cements your footing, and you are no longer mobile or fluid. How can I, [a Métis woman], belong to that? (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 2011) She was also sensitive to the ways distinctions made an us and them border between people and what it meant to her, as a Métis person, to identify with both. Her Métis stories to live by were shaped in this understanding of life in a border culture. As Gloria Anzaldúa (1987) wrote: Borders are set up to define the places that are safe and unsafe, to distinguish us from them. A border is a dividing line. A narrow strip along a steep edge. A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary. It is in a constant state of transition. The prohibited and forbidden are its inhabitants. (p. 25) For Anna, this constant state of transition was sometimes represented in a story she had been telling all her life as she explained how her “restlessness” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 2010) began with moving before Grade 1 and then often over her life as a child, youth, and young adult. This experiential story of moving shaped her feeling of restlessness as a teacher and caused her to consider leaving teaching. The telling of an exit story shaped by many transitions made her safe because she knew she could always leave. I’m restless. I’m restless already and this is year two. I have three out of four years of a CGA, two out of three years of a B.A., one out of two years of a business admin thing. I just get sick of it or else I get enough of it so that I can get by and then I quit or get kicked out. I am seriously thinking about leaving teaching and going into medicine. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 20, 2010)


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy Anna had a strong sense of transitions—transitions from place to place, but also from story to live by to story to live by. These stories of identity continued to be told over time. She carried her saving stories of transition from her personal knowledge landscape onto the professional knowledge landscape. Early in the research, Anna expressed a saving story out of her personal world that expressed the way she felt about being Métis. I don’t know much about that [my First Nations heritage], but I do know about being Métis. We are people stuck in the middle. We don’t know who the hell we are. When you have strong Catholic roots and First Nations influence, it’s a messed up, messed up scene. We are the kings and queens of identity crises, I am sure. And because of my fair skin, I get to hear how people really feel about life within diversity. [When my friends from school came to the house], I used to hide my mukluks and moccasins and was always embarrassed of my family from the north . . . I’d say, “Oh, sorry, can’t play!” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 20, 2010) In August 2011, during the summer after her third year of teaching, Anna spoke differently about what it meant to be Métis living between cultures. She was thinking about diversity in her classroom, of which she was a part, as a teacher when she said, “We grow in spaces of uncertainty. We grow when spirit or world view come into tension with uncertainty. Spaces of uncertainty draw on my Métis and spiritual identity in my life experience” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, August 2011). Although she continued to tell a saving story of Métis identity, over time her perspective toward the borderlands and how she lived out that story in her classroom had changed—her professional knowledge was shifting. She no longer held a negative judgment over uncertainty and transition, but rather saw this space of tension as a growth-oriented endeavor. With her personal saving story of living as a Métis woman, a professional story of making space for diversity in school was forming. I am Métis. I know what it is like to feel different. I have five children who identify as First Nations peoples right now in a classroom of 26. The rest are from all over the world. So when I say to my learners “you need to be careful of the choices you make for today because you might not get a chance to redo today,” well in some world views that’s not true. So I have to be conscious every moment of world view. World view is on the tip of my tongue always—in every subject. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, January 21, 2011)


Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories She maintained narrative coherence through her personal and practical knowledge as she told us how “world view is on the tip of my tongue always.” Another saving story that remained fixed while shaping a professional story to live by in flux had to do with place. Her grandfather’s homestead in northern Alberta shaped a learning space for her, and as she told this story of place over and over, it shaped her professional knowledge of space. She said, There is something about four walls that isn’t organic. Those walls put pressure to become quickly. Those four walls have got to go. How can you be like I am with my grandma in those four walls? They need to be dismantled. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 2011) In the act of claiming this knowledge about physical space from her personal life as having an impact on her professional life, a story to live by on her professional knowledge landscape shifted. It is the story of [students’] lives that is a space of passion. This passion for human beings doesn’t stop at the four walls of a school. It is outside the classroom too. Passion is presence . . . a way of being in the world. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 2011) Saving stories helped her articulate the common thread running through her stories to live by. Passion is to be present. That presence, that feeling between you, you know it’s passion. If I am present in my teaching, it comes out looking like passion, but what it really is, is a deep relational sense for human beings. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 2011) Anna, in the research conversation space, was able to articulate passion as a story to live by that sustained her on her professional knowledge landscape: “Passion happens with the heart beat . . . between two or more people’s heartbeats. Relationships and course of life are not two-dimensional, and heartbeat sustains that multidimensional space” (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, July 2011). In our work with Anna, we came to an understanding of the role of saving stories. Initially, we understood these stories as literally saving her, that in the retelling of them she maintained a coherent sense of self in relation to her shifting, uncertain, professional


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy story to live by. However, as we stayed close to the idea of a saving story, we began to see them in ways that are more complex. While we still consider them a way of saving herself, we now also understand them as quite literally a story you save. This reminded us of the things we save that are important to us. The things we keep to hold again, to remind us of a moment, a place, or a person. Sometimes we intentionally take them out, like the mukluks Anna kept that were stitched by her grandmother, and sometimes we happen upon that saved thing by chance and become caught up in the memory of it. Saving stories functioned like this for Anna. Sometimes they were stories she intentionally told to maintain a coherent narrative of herself on a new landscape—the professional knowledge landscape of teaching. Sometimes she told her saving stories because she had saved them, like one might save an artifact in a memory box (Clandinin & Connelly, 1994). When retelling a story she had saved, she was reminding herself of another way of being, of a moment alongside her grandmother on the land.

Conclusion We echo Thomas King’s (2003) words for each of us to pay attention. We must pay attention as we walk alongside early-career teachers in hopes of sustaining them in their teaching identities. When an early-career teacher tells us their saving stories, we remember Thomas King’s (2003) words about a story when someone shares it: “You can have it if you want . . . Just don’t say in the years to come that you would have lived your life differently if only you had heard this story. You’ve heard it now” (p. 167). Now we have heard Anna’s stories. What we do with them matters. All beginning teachers have saving stories. What we do with them matters. The current learning landscape does not provide many spaces for beginning teachers to tell and understand their saving stories. Our research opens spaces for conversations about implications for new teacher in-services and pre-teacher education. The following are touchstones for teaching beginning teachers to engage as narrative inquirers into their saving stories. In our research alongside Anna we became aware that beginning teachers need a space for conversation. Anna drew our attention to the importance of asking them who they are and where they come from. This means creating safe spaces where beginning 100 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories teachers may tell stories of who they are and speak freely about the tensions they experience when their stories to live by collide with people and situations in school. We became conscious of the ways that experienced teachers and beginning teachers initiate relationships with each other that allow them both to play their saving stories forward into their lives in schools. We attended to how we might create an openness to learning to let go of some saving stories as beginning teachers incorporate new knowledge into their practical knowledge. This is not mandated or forced knowledge, but rather an organic moving forward in educative ways. The first years as a teacher are not something to quickly move through. Rather, let those first years be a place where we dwell in questions, and live in the midst of wonder and uncertainty in a Maxine Greene (1995) spirit of “forever on the way.” We end this manuscript with Anna’s words that illustrate her experience with the research conversations. Last time we got together I got in my car and I was singing. I haven’t done that for a long time. What are all those other beginning teachers doing out there who don’t have someone like you. How do they get through this? I feel like we get together and I spew it all out there and then I can walk out into my same life differently. (Research conversation, Anna & Lynne, December 20, 2010)

References Anzaldúa, G. (1987). Borderlands: The new mestiza: La frontera. San Francisco: Spinsters/ Aunt Lute. Carr, D. (1986). Time, narrative, and history. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (1994). Personal experience methods. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (pp. 413–427). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. (1998). Stories to live by: Narrative understandings of school reform. Curriculum Inquiry, 28(2), 149–164. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (2000). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Clandinin, D. J., Downey, C. A., & Huber, J. (2009). Attending to changing landscapes: Shaping the interwoven identities of teachers and teacher educators. Asia Pacific Journal of Teacher Education, 37(2), 141–114. Clandinin, D. J., Huber, J., Huber, M., Murphy, M. S., Pearce, M., Murray-Orr, A., et al. (2006). Composing diverse identities: Narrative inquiries into the interwoven lives of children and teachers. London: Routledge. Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (1988). Teachers as curriculum planners: Narratives of experience. New York: Teachers College Press. Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (1999). Shaping a professional identity: stories of educational practice. New York: Teachers College Press.


Lynne Driedger-Enns and M. Shaun Murphy Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (2006). Narrative inquiry. In J. Green, G. Camilli & P. Elmore (Eds.), Handbook of complementary methods in education research (pp. 477–487). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Katz, L. G. (1972). Developmental stages of preschool teachers. The Elementary School Journal, 73(1), 50–54. King, T. (2003). The truth about stories. Toronto, ON, Canada: House of Anansi Press Inc.

Crites, S. (1971). The narrative quality of experience. Journal of the American Academy of Religion, 39(3), 291–311.

Lopez, B. (1990). Crow and weasel. San Fransisco: North Point Press.

Dewey, J. (1938). Experience and education. New York: Touchstone.

Polanyi, M. (1962). Personal knowledge: Towards a post-critical philosophy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Fuller, F., & Bown, O. (1975). Becoming a teacher. In K. Ryan (Ed.), Teacher Education, 74th Yearbook of the National Society for the Study of Education. Part 2 (pp. 25–52). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Schaefer, L., & Clandinin, D. J. (2011). Stories of sustaining: A narrative inquiry into the experiences of two beginning teachers. Learning Landscapes, 4(2), 275–295.

Greene, M. (1995). Releasing the imagination: Essays on education, the arts, and social change. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers.

Schaefer, L., Long, J. S., & Clandinin, D. J. (2012). Questioning the research on early career teacher attrition and retention. Alberta Journal of Educational Research, 58(1), 106–121.

Harrington, G. N., & Sacks, S. R. (1984). Student to teacher: Novel strategies for achieving the transition. Journal of Education for Teaching: International Research and Pedagogy, 10(2), 154–163. Huber, J., & Clandinin, D. J. (2004). Scaffolding children’s identity making with literature. In E. R. A. Rogers (Ed.), Strategies for scaffolding literacy instruction: Strategies for K-4 classrooms (pp. 143–161). Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann Publishers. Huber, J., Murphy, M. S., & Clandinin, D. J. (2011). Places of curriculum making: Narrative inquiries into children’s lives in motion. Bingley, UK: Emerald Group Publishing Limited.

Schwab, J. J. (1973). The practical 3: Translation into curriculum. The School Review, 81(4), 501–522. Stroot, S., Keil, V., Stedman, P., Lohr, L., Faust, R., Schincariol-Randall, L., et al. (1998). Developmental stages of teachers. Peer Assistance and Review Guidebook. Columbus OH: Ohio Department of Education. Veenman, S. (1984). Perceived problems of beginning teachers. Review of Educational Research, 52(2), 143–178.


Shaping Professional Identity With Saving Stories

Lynne Driedger-Enns is a PhD student at the University of Saskatchewan, in the department of Curriculum Studies. Lynne is an elementary school teacher with 15 years of experience in Saskatchewan, Zimbabwe, and India. Her practice integrates the arts in relational curriculum making with children. Her research interests include identity making, familial and school curriculum making, and teacher education. This paper comes out of her interest in the significance of personal knowledge in shaping and sustaining the professional identity of beginning teachers.

M. Shaun Murphy is an Associate Professor in the Department of Educational Foundations at the University of Saskatchewan. His research interests are based in relational narrative inquiry with a focus on familial and school curriculum making; the interwoven lives of children, families, and teachers; and teacher education. Currently, he is involved in a rural education research project considering the interwoven lives of children, families, teachers, and administrators in curriculum making. Shaun was awarded the 2012 Provost’s College Award for Outstanding Teaching, University of Saskatchewan and the 2013 Early Career Award, Narrative Research Special Interest Group, American Education Research Association.



Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning Susan E. Elliott-Johns, Nipissing University

ABSTRACT The terms “reflection” and “reflective practice” occur frequently in educational research and practice, particularly in numerous course descriptions for pre-service teacher education. However, the author remains unconvinced we, as teacher educators, are always accomplishing what we think and/or say we are in the name of “reflection.” This article seeks to promote further dialogue around the role of reflection in teacher education via explorations of what more can be learned, while underscoring the need to clarify understandings in this complex area. The author draws on her own experiences as a reflective practitioner and advocate for the promotion of meaningful reflection as professional learning.

Introduction

M

y current research and practice seeks to promote understanding around what more can be learned about the role of meaningful reflection in contemporary teacher education. Along with Ottesen (2007), I contend there is, “a huge potential for expanding reflection in teacher education” (p. 43) but, in order to effectively do so, I would suggest it might be helpful to first clarify our understandings around a) what we are asking teacher candidates to do (in the name of “reflection”) as well as b) why we are asking them to reflect. For example, as Loughran (2002) wrote, more than a decade ago, “Reflection has developed a variety of meanings as the bandwagon has traveled through the world of practice” (p. 33). Russell (2013) also summarizes similar concerns to my own:


Susan E. Elliott-Johns Once teacher educators took up the terms reflection and reflective practice…. many of us began to ask teacher candidates to reflect. Many of us seemed to assume that the meaning of reflect is self-evident. I hear many complaints from students that they are weary of so much reflection, particularly when so many different assignments call for reflection and when they have been given little guidance in terms of what reflection involves, what the results of reflection should look like, and how reflection can help them learn to teach. Personally, I have grown weary of hearing that teacher candidates have been asked to “write a one-page reflective paper” on a particular topic. I am particularly concerned about the lack of guidance and about the tendency to separate reflection (whatever it may be) from the context of personal action. (p. 81) In my work as teacher educator, encouraging teacher candidates to move towards becoming reflective practitioners, that is, individuals who are enabled to connect reflection to personal action, remains a priority. At surface level, and to enact this as pedagogy, I purposively design course components to include both classroom learning activities and assignments for evaluation that require in-depth discussion, critical thinking, and reflection. I find it increasingly beneficial to allocate class time to explanations of what I mean by reflection, my rationale for including opportunities for teacher candidates to reflect in the course, the explicit clarification of expectations for reflection as part of course components, and the sharing of illustrative examples. Recognizing this as, most likely, a direct result of continuing to interrogate, develop, and enact my pedagogy of teacher education (including documenting my own critical reflections), reflection continues, very naturally, to work along (and between) the margins of my research and practice.

Context While the concepts of reflection and reflective practice occur frequently in the research literature and discourse of teacher education—including the relevance of reflective practice to ongoing professional learning for teachers and administrators (Admiraal & Wubbels, 2005; Birmingham, 2004; Day, 2003; Hargreaves & Fullan, 2012; Loughran, 2002; Rodgers, 2002; Russell & Korthagen, 1995), the concept still appears to be somewhat vague—and often interpreted very differently. Schon’s (1983) notion of the reflective practitioner is at the heart of several contemporary understandings. Otteson (2007) also notes,


Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning the seminal impact of John Dewey (1997; Original work published in 1910) and Max Van Manen (Van Manen, 1977, 1991) has strongly influenced the development of a variety of understandings and perspectives on reflection in education (see among others Calderhead, 1987; Zeichner, 1987; Grimmett & Erickson, 1988; Zeichner & Tabachnick, 1991; Russell & Munby, 1992; Valli, 1992; Korthagen, 2001). (pp. 31–32) My own understandings are informed by the pragmatic influences in the work of both Dewey and Schon. For example, an idea circulated in Dewey’s “The School and Society” (1956) is one that still resonates for me today as a teacher educator, both personally and professionally: mind cannot be regarded as an individualistic monopolistic possession, but represents the outworkings of endeavour and thought of humanity; that is developed in an environment which is social as well as physical, and that social needs and aims have been most potent in shaping it. (p. 99) Initially educated as a teacher in London, England (1975-1979), Dewey’s philosophy of education and pivotal ideas still provide rich sources of inspiration in my own reflective practice. Dewey’s writings on the nature of experience remain a conceptual and imaginative backdrop (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000) that also informs my work in the area of teaching others about reflection in education, specifically reflection in and for teacher education. Dewey regarded education, experience, and life as inextricably intertwined and that to study education is to study experience. Thus the study of education is seen as a reciprocal process; that is, we not only learn about education by thinking about life, but also about life from thinking about education. Furthermore, Schon (1983) described the development of reflective practice as involving critical examination of one’s experience in order to derive new levels of understanding by which to guide future action. If a central purpose of teacher education is to successfully prepare teacher candidates to be legitimate participants of the teaching profession, I believe we have an inherent responsibility to advocate for the importance of meaningful reflection and the cultivation of habitual reflections that, over time, contribute to effective reflective practice as professional learning. Therefore, I continue to place considerable emphasis on developing explicit awareness of the important “shift” from thinking like a student to thinking like a teacher, as facilitated by the ability to reflect deeply on experience as one discovers, “that explicating and exploring dilemmas is of itself a way of knowing” (Swartz, 1994, p. 101).


Susan E. Elliott-Johns

Looking for Answers in Reflections on Practice How do I describe what I understand by reflection to teacher candidates? First and foremost, I demonstrate how (and why) reflective practice is firmly situated as a central feature in my own life and work; I talk openly about how nurturing the development of teachers who think deeply about their professional practice is at the heart of my efforts to promote reflection in teacher education, underscoring the emphasis on meaningful reflection. Approaches to facilitating the development of meaningful reflection are highly diverse and complex and, again like Russell (2013), I sometimes worry that “the ways teacher educators have responded to and made use of the concepts of reflection and reflective practice may be doing more harm than good in pre-service teacher education” (p. 80). I consciously embed learning to reflect throughout my work with teacher candidates. For example, explicitly teaching about reflection as a “skill” (one that needs to be practiced regularly), and directly linking this to understandings of personal action and professional learning. Whenever possible, I explain and systematically model reflective practice. All this is done quite deliberately in order to diminish the effects of what, in my experience, is too often the case: “Teacher candidates tend to complete a program with a muddled and negative view of what reflection is and how it might contribute to their professional learning” (p. 87). Facilitating the teaching of thinking is at the heart of this work because, as Socrates suggests, “I cannot teach anybody anything, I can only make them think…” Equally, this has relevance to promoting teacher candidates’ thinking about “learning to teach,” as well as the pragmatics associated with their beginning to identify and successfully integrate strategies for the teaching of thinking—an essential aspect of developing effective classroom practice. Turning the lens on ourselves, as teacher educators, is a constructive starting point in gaining clarity and greater understanding about what we actually mean by 1) reflection (e.g., when including this in course content at the faculty); and 2) honing the ability to articulate why we think “reflection” is an important element of teacher education. While it may seem somewhat daunting at first to do this (alongside students too), it is worth pushing through the initial angst if one is serious about teaching teachers to reflect beyond the superficial. In my own experience, surfacing and articulating responses to both 1) and 2) above and “drilling down” on these with our colleagues also illuminates what appears to have gone awry in terms of “reflective practice” in teacher education (Russell, 2013). 108 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning My own sense of identity as a teacher educator is also of relevance here. As someone who consistently turns to “journalling” (recording thoughts, ideas, questions, and responses to, “What have I learned?”), I can systematically examine and try to better understand my own assumptions, motivations, aspirations, commitments, and relationships related to life and work. The notion of making pedagogy visible and to better understand what is happening and/or what I might do differently remains integral to the purposes of my own reflection as an educator, and I find it a fairly natural process to model reflective practice in the classroom on an ongoing basis. Consequently, inquiry-based approaches to teaching and learning include my ongoing professional learning and current research in the self-study of teacher education practices (S-STEP). In essence, to paraphrase Mark Twain, “How do I know what I think until I write it down?” has become a significant guiding question for my own research and practice, and responses over time frequently offer multi-faceted and informative insights. In turn, reflections on various ways I act upon what I am learning (e.g., specifically about being a teacher of teachers and the different ways teacher candidates respond to my approaches to teaching and learning), continue to inform my pedagogy of teacher education. Rich sources of deeper understanding are made available as a result of my own critical thinking processes and reflection on the ongoing development and enactment of a pedagogy of teacher education (Loughran, 2006; Russell & Loughran, 2007). Understandings often resonate deeply and iteratively as catalysts for further thinking about innovative teaching, research, and pedagogy—especially when, I find, they are shared with my students of teaching. So, what do we say when we look hard at what we do and why we do it? What do we write when we stay silent long enough to actually reflect upon and write at length about this exceedingly difficult career we have chosen for ourselves? The first (2007) of two sample journal entries illustrate reflections over time, and serves to share insights into some of my own thinking early on in my career as a full-time teacher educator at the faculty, and more specifically, the habitual work of interrogating and learning from analysis of practice: … All courses I teach seek to effectively integrate effective practice grounded in a coherent theoretical framework relevant to contemporary teaching and learning of language arts and literacy. Highly collaborative, interactive, inquiry-based approaches to teaching and learning are central to my planning for instruction, along with the provision of numerous examples of literacy resources relevant to J/I grade levels. My approach to teaching J/I language arts with teacher candidates strives to demonstrate how (and why) to work with language/literacy across the curriculum, prioritizes the development of critical


Susan E. Elliott-Johns thinking, reflective practices, and encourages them to forge links between their own literacy lives and their experience as novices on the “teacher education continuum”…. …. I believe that the design of climates conducive to learning requires self-respect, a genuine respect for others, knowledge, understanding, sensitivity, effective communication skills, recognition of diversity, and the ability to nurture relationships between all participants in a classroom learning community. I work hard to engage all teacher candidates in classes that explicitly model and demonstrate how reflecting upon what they are learning about teaching can, in turn, serve to inform their “thinking like a teacher” and developing pedagogy for J/I classrooms.... (Excerpt from Journal Entry, 2007) A second, more recent journal entry (2012), resonates with similar themes and offers an even clearer articulation of developing pedagogy and practice to support teacher candidates in both learning to reflect and in making explicit the links to their professional learning: The central aims woven through all my courses of study (prepared for teaching preservice teachers how to teach language arts and literacy) continue to highlight relevant topics that reflect the objective of preparing participants to teach diverse learners in contemporary J/I classrooms. Knowledge of, and experience with, effective teaching and learning to promote language arts and literacy across the curriculum in J/I grade levels are carefully integrated through assigned readings, class discussions, experiential class/ group activities, the ongoing study of children’s and young adult literature as resources, relevant assignments, and frequent opportunities for reflection and the construction of practical wisdom. I endeavour to ensure participants are offered opportunities to read, write, and critically think about their “learning about teaching,” and to engage in the ongoing development of reflective practice…. (Excerpt from Journal Entry, 2012)

Explorations of Reflection in Contemporary Teacher Education Reflection is frequently listed as an integral aspect of most teacher education programs, indeed, it seems just about every website cites the importance of becoming a “critically reflective teacher.” However, students still appear to experience confusion about the nature of reflection once in the course/program. Again, what does it really mean to reflect? For example, I have observed the term “reflection” attached to assigned coursework that merely requires the annotation or recording of observations/ 110 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning descriptions in note form (my problem with this being that “note-taking” is undertaken for different purposes and involves very different processes to [meaningful] reflection); I have also overheard comments from teacher candidates who are clearly frustrated at being asked to reflect one more time, do not really understand what they are being asked to do and why, and, in these instances, “reflection” has most definitely become “The ‘R’ word!”. Comments shared by faculty and teacher candidates alike often demonstrate major differences in perceptions of expectations for reflection from one professor to another—and inevitable confusion. These observations have resulted in closer examination of my own expectations and further explorations of the question, What do I intend teacher candidates to learn when I design and include opportunities to reflect in coursework? Some initial responses to this question surfaced tensions between my recognition of limited time available to teach reflection effectively, including attending to the essential elements of building trust and confidence with teacher candidates in my classes so that they may also become more comfortable in composing and sharing authentic reflections. At the same time, it became clear that it is not my intention to act as a therapist (Korthagen & Vasalos, 2005), but rather, to link the reflective process to the completion of teacher education coursework as professional learning. I would argue there is a pressing need to prioritize opportunities for teacher candidates to think critically, and to experience reflection much more deeply than is possible when reflection is interpreted as, “jotting a note on what I observed.” Therefore, I began to closely examine the results of assignments I currently ask teacher candidates to complete as coursework, and to analyze the work submitted in the light of two questions: 1) What do my teacher candidates appear to be learning? and 2) What am I learning (as a teacher educator) about what they are learning? The discussion that follows presents some recurring themes identified in assigned coursework related to teacher candidates’ reflections on assigned readings, and in samples of reflective writing completed as a written rationale for selecting a piece of literature and preparing an accompanying multimodal response. Increasingly, as a teacher educator, I learn so much about these developing teachers and their “thinking like a teacher” as a result of engaging with samples of reflective writing. For me, this also makes such assignments more valuable in terms of what we are collectively able to glean from the completion of coursework, and how their learning about teaching continues to inform and enhance my own practice in terms of the “pedagogical turn” (Russell, 1997).


Susan E. Elliott-Johns

Learning Through Experience: Reflection in the Teacher Education Classroom As an instructor of learning and teaching language arts, I endeavour to explicitly address the two competing agendas students of teaching must recognize and to which they must respond (Loughran, 2006). In brief, these are teaching about teaching and learning about teaching: that is, student teachers need not only to focus on learning what is being taught, but also the ways in which that teaching is conducted. Loughran draws attention to the crucial work of teaching about teaching and the explicit unpacking of pedagogical expertise that allows for practice to move beyond the technical-rational (i.e., a focus on “tips and tricks” that can still be found inhabiting outdated conceptualizations of what constitutes teacher education today), to teaching about teaching in ways that model appropriate attitudes, knowledge, and skills of teaching itself. In my work in the classroom and as a self-study researcher, I am very open to learning alongside my students and thus also the re-shaping of my own teacher education practices. I have found that combining Loughran’s influential work with a reflective teaching model grounded in John Dewey’s fundamental equation of Experience + Reflection = Growth both motivates and enables teacher candidates in my Language Arts classes to progress in the area of reflection, and this also moves them along what I like to refer to as the “teacher education continuum.” Reflective thinking, from Dewey’s perspective, requires a teacher to turn a subject over in the mind and give it serious and consecutive consideration. Frankly, when they first arrive in the B.Ed program, teacher candidates who know how to truly reflect, or understand how it can enhance their learning about teaching, are rare. This is an important assumption to examine (e.g., it appears to be an assumption held by many when reflection features so prominently in numerous course descriptions and assignments). The ability factor is likely to be closely tied to trust and rapport established between teacher and students in this regard (that will also, by association, contribute a great deal to the “confidence” factor). This becomes crucial as I not only ask them to work on developing their reflective thinking and writing, but also (sometimes) ask for their reflective writing to be submitted and evaluated. Building authentic trust and rapport takes time, and a question I frequently find myself asking is, “What do we teach when there isn’t time to teach everything?” Undoubtedly, time is perpetually of the essence. I intentionally allocate time to ensure teacher candidates are afforded opportunities to engage in meaningful reflection and writing, as well as integrating reflective practice across all of our class activities 112 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning and assignments. Figure 1 presents a guiding framework introduced and discussed in class very early in the year, and to which we continually refer. Teacher candidates are encouraged to think of the process as “looking through the rear-view mirror”—thereby facilitating their reflection on (and in) action/experience. The goal is to stimulate critical thinking and to provide ongoing support for reflection—rather than “re-telling” (often, at first, the default mode). However, as meaningful, guided reflection becomes more familiar practice, and ongoing constructive feedback (oral and written) is offered to “nudge” thinking about learning about teaching further, teacher candidates’ demonstrated skill, confidence, awareness of a critical stance, and understandings of meaningful reflection as professional learning begin to surface in reflections.

A GUIDING FRAMEWORK FOR REFLECTIVE WRITING CONSIDER IT LIKE “LOOKING THROUGH THE REAR-VIEW MIRROR....” crafting a synthesis of your thinking in response to the assigned reading, your knowledge, experience, ongoing professional development... WHAT COMES TO MIND? your understanding of the text? (content); related experiences? prior knowledge? new knowledge? questions? ASSESSING YOUR REFLECTIONS....ARE THEY: thought-provoking? in-depth? constructing personal meaning? making critical connections? raising further questions? ARE YOU THINKING AND WRITING FROM AN “I” PERSPECTIVE? reflect from the 1st person perspective of a practicing teacher as you continue to learn about teaching and learning... ARE YOU EXPLORING WHAT YOU HAVE LEARNED... What have I learned? What does this mean to me? How might this influence my developing practice? Ideas? Examples? ARE YOU UTILIZING DIFFERENT ‘TYPES OF THINKING’ (AS BLOOM): Knowledge… Comprehennsion… Application… Analysis… Synthesis… Evaluation… Fig. 1: A guiding framework for reflective thinking


Susan E. Elliott-Johns Teacher candidates are asked to “dig down deep” and express personal/professional opinions, wonderings, ideas, questions, connections, and so forth in their reflections, and a great deal of work has to be invested early on to build as much trust and rapport as possible, as quickly as possible. I cannot overemphasize the need for building supportive relationships and a classroom climate conducive to risk-taking and collegial support as a context for this work. I have noticed some recurring patterns and themes in teacher candidates’ reflections, particularly at the beginning of the B.Ed year, and I use these to inform and improve my practice in this area. For example, initial reflections are frequently written in the third person, as opposed to the first person, “I….” and constitute observations, or “re-telling,” as well as arms-length “commentary” (also in the third person) such as, “Teachers should….” We confer in class about how difficult it is for them to switch into first person (e.g., they will comment that “undergraduate degree assignments were always required in third person,” and they find it very odd now to be writing an assignment in first person); inevitably, this further informs my approaches to responsive instruction (see also Figure 1). In written feedback my comments (“nudges”) will ask, “Are you thinking and writing from an “I” perspective?” and offer suggestions to assist cultivation of a more reflective stance. At first, that the purpose of the writing itself is to demonstrate their thinking and professional learning sometimes appears difficult to grasp (e.g., in terms of the prompt, “What comes to mind?”). For example, many teacher candidates begin exhibiting very little confidence in sharing their own “voice”; rather, they will cite/quote/paraphrase the “experts.” Recognizing, and using student voices to guide instruction (Elliott-Johns, Booth, Rowsell, Puig, & Paterson, 2012), represents another cornerstone of my research and practice—and another reason why I consider opportunities for meaningful reflections such a vital aspect of teacher education. The gradual surfacing of their own “voice,” and increasingly critical thinking conveyed in the reflections I read and respond to throughout the year, requires consistent support, encouragement, and time to think. In my experience, it is extremely important to be sensitive to the fact that, depending on their life experience, these young adults who aspire to be teachers may not perceive themselves as “writers”; it is very often helpful to present ideas on learning about being a writer, as appropriate, as well as relevant practical knowledge about preparing to be a teacher of writing. Russell (2013) reminds us, “Whatever reflection and reflective practice are, they are not ends in themselves; hopefully they are means to the end of better teaching 114 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning practices and better learning by students in schools” (p. 80). I would add, the rich contributions to professional growth both my students and I are able to experience together, including their valuable insights that influence shaping and re-shaping of the course design and approaches to instruction, are only possible if we understand Russell’s point—and make the necessary time and guidance available for meaningful reflection if it is to augment teacher education. As teacher educators, individually and collectively, I strongly suggest we need to be looking at our own practice and asking the critical question: Is the way I am making use of the concepts of reflection and reflective practice doing more harm than good?

Exploring Reflection/Reflective Practice as Professional Learning An assignment teacher candidates are asked to complete in the second semester of my J/I Language Arts class is a multi-modal response to literature (Elliott-Johns, 2011). This assignment calls for, and supports, multiple layers of reflection, as well as the effective integration of technology enhanced learning (TEL). It also illustrates what I strive to have teacher candidates learn later in the year as they continue developing their reflective thinking and writing as an integral part of being a teacher (and “reflective practitioner”). This assignment has become a highly popular vehicle that motivates teacher candidates’ abilities to truly reflect and to “dig a little deeper”—an evocative and commonly used phrase in my classes (and one I know gets picked up and used during practicum with their students too!) A brief overview for the multi-modal assignment for teacher candidates follows: As a J/I teacher, you will need to build an extensive repertoire of literacy teaching and learning strategies for use in your classroom across the curriculum. Literature response strategies enable teachers to assess a student’s demonstration of their learning and understanding of the texts they read, and also lend themselves to consideration of “new” literacies. This assignment is an opportunity to explore multi-modal ways for your students to respond to a self-selected literature selection. **This assignment is to be completed individually—there will be no exceptions to this requirement. The assignment aims to link to ongoing development of professional learning for classroom practice, as well as promote and support reflection/reflective practice. By modifying the framework of the Task outlined below, many teacher candidates elect to develop similar assignments during final practicum for their own students in Grades 4–10. Many report sharing the assignments they had completed themselves in our course (and/or copies of assignments they received permission to use from their class


Susan E. Elliott-Johns colleagues) as samples/examples when introducing and discussing this kind of work with their own students and Associate Teachers: YOUR TASK: (1) Identify a literature selection of your own choice, one suitable for use in either a Junior and/or Intermediate curriculum area. Using your MAC, prepare a computer generated multimodal response to your literature selection. For example, your selection might be a picture book, a novel, a poem, or a non-fiction selection: The selection identified will provide the focus for your development of a multimodal literature response. Using multimedia of your own choice, plan and present a response that represents your understandings and the connections made to the “big ideas”/themes/interpretations that resonate for you in the text selected. Your multimodal response may involve text, images, movement, music, and/or other modes you find relevant to effectively communicating your response. The multimodal responses have provided rich examples of reflection utilizing a diverse range of multimedia in order to creatively do so. For example, interpretations of, and responses to, the text selected as conveyed through a presentation of images, music, drama, text, and/or other media. In turn, this suggests non-traditional approaches to readers’ responses that can be promoted in contemporary classrooms— underscored by Loughran’s notion of shaping learning about teaching differently, and readers interested in this particular aspect of work might also find an earlier article (Elliott-Johns, 2011) informative. It is only fair to say that, since 2011, the multimodal responses have become increasingly sophisticated and more complex. To illustrate my own work-in-process, towards facilitating more meaningful reflection, I will focus on the nature of reflective writing teacher candidates are encouraged to share in response to the second component of this assignment, as follows: (2) Construct a written rationale that demonstrates your understanding of the uses of quality literature for instruction and learning in J/I classrooms. (e.g., Why this selection? What does it mean to you?) Your rationale should reflect a broad definition of literacy, as shared in class. You may also wish to use examples from your identified selection to support points you make. Your written rationale should be no more than four pages in length and double-spaced. Many submissions for this component of the assignment offer, enhance, and expand upon answers to the question, What do I intend teacher candidates to learn when I design and include opportunities to “reflect” in coursework? For example, the five excerpts 116 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning included here (all representative samples of work completed by teacher candidates), offer evidence of further understandings of the complex nature of learning to “think like a teacher” and, in this way, they also inform and enhance my development of a pedagogy of teacher education. The reflections explore (personal) responses to the literature selected, as well as interrogate why (and how) the author might consider using as a resource in the classroom; inferences, questions, connections made (e.g., text to world), as well as recognition of the changing definitions of “literacy” and multimodal approaches to “ways of knowing,” all convey insights into developing awareness of the potential breadth and depth of meaningful reflection on professional learning as beginning teachers: #1. I would love to share this text (Jonathan Livingston Seagull) with my J/I students as a “story to learn from” and also find ways to explore with them how they might relate to JL’s life…. (e.g., through reflecting on their own experiences). Middle school years represent Erikson’s fifth stage of development—identity vs. role confusion. There is peer pressure to be alike or part of “the flock,” but each of us has to discover our own strengths and choose our own path. I’d really like my students to understand it is okay to pursue their dreams and be their own version of Jonathan… #2. I chose Maya Angelou’s “Still I Rise,” a poem that reflects themes of overcoming adversity. In my experience on placement I noticed poetry wasn’t receiving it’s fair share of attention or perhaps the best selections were not being made… at this point in time, I see poetry as at risk of falling even further out of favour with youth because, after all, it is only words… but, as our work for this assignment has clearly demonstrated, creating a meaningful montage with words, images, music, and video is an important tool we new teachers will have to “hook” our students in. I thought this was a very good poem to look more closely at because the lines in the poem are not explicit—one really has to think about what they say… This gives me a “way in” to work with my students… Rich imagery, the sharing of personal life experiences, further explorations of learning about teaching, contemporary socio-cultural factors, related issues, and evidence of increasing ability to “think like a teacher” are woven into the fabric of thoughtful, and thought-provoking, reflections: #3. This book (“The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian”) will be in any class I work in and I will certainly recommend it to anybody interested in learning more about poverty and Indigenous people in Canada. I find it captures images of many of the communities I have travelled to or lived in over the years and is shockingly realistic. Through Arnold’s


Susan E. Elliott-Johns narrative, Sherman Alexie is able to help people understand some of the reasons for the desperate state of being in some First Nation communities… It is brutally honest and raw so it couldn’t be recommended for all (students) but it is quality literature—cutting, exciting, well written, and timely… M. (Moosonee) has been on my mind a lot recently. It may be that it is application time and somewhere deep down I am contemplating going back (to the North). It may also be good memories, or the news reports about A. (Attawapiskat) but, quite honestly, I feel like packing my bags right now…. #4. As I was putting my multimodal response together and thinking about this whole assignment, I reflected on how I could most accurately and effectively convey my emotions and responses to Jared Paul’s poem, “ABCs for Roger.” It took a few tries! I initially began representing the poem as if it was a response from Jared himself and including images I think he was intending to portray…. However, in the end, I felt no connection to this response. I finally realized I needed to re-work my response to represent what I visualize when I listen to him recite this poem. For me, the lyrics of Xavier Rudd’s “Sky to the Ground” (one that I consistently listened to during my bus rides to camp in Jamaica) create a vivid image of different places around the world and illustrate a more positive view of the world than the words of Jared Paul… Both pieces send me on journeys across the world and I’m able to reflect deeply on things I have seen and things I still hope to see… as well as what these experiences mean to me as the teacher I’m becoming…. Reflections shared in each of these excerpts are indicative of perseverance with professional learning as reflection—something I contend offers the ability to be more effective decision makers in the development of classroom practice. Furthermore, the nature of questions posed call for further examination of complex issues and necessitate tolerance for ambiguity when there are no easy answers to issues raised in reflections on resources selected for classroom use: #5. I’m learning that current interpretations of critical literacy teach students that text is not necessarily literal and they need to dig deeper to construct views embedded in words and images, thus promoting a society that is more empathetic and proactive in preventing social injustice… “Three Wishes” by Deborah Ellis presents the life stories of Israeli and Palestinian children in their own voices… and one can easily discern the commonalities: effects of war and terror, hope for better futures, firm beliefs in their god… Having discovered this book was banned from a few Ontario school boards, it makes me wonder what are our priorities as adults in society? Do we truly wish to help all children and ensure their rights are not violated? What are we doing, not just as teachers but as members of society, to ensure First Nations and Aboriginal children are not only receiving an education that is useful to them, but also making sure they have 118 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning food, water, shelter, and heat in the winter? Unfortunately (or fortunately?) this book has left me with more questions than answers… As Dallas, Reed, and Graves (2010) suggest, I believe teachers become more effective decision makers when they are reflective about decisions, instead of relying solely on technical, linear, prescribed formulas. The ability to select resources for students with confidence, to plan lessons and units appropriately, while also making adjustments to meet the needs of all students, require teachers to make informed decisions that require reflective thinking: Much like when we look in the mirror to check and see how we look before we start each day, reflection serves teachers as a means to check their daily routines and determine if what they are doing best serves the students in the classroom. (p. 69) However, becoming a reflective practitioner does not occur by osmosis, or simply because I include reflection as a component in my course of study. First and foremost, one has to work with something substantive enough (e.g., a text, an event, a dilemma), something one cares enough about, to reflect on it. The professional learning experienced by teacher candidates in the excerpts included here also came about as a result of clear expectations, opportunities to engage in more meaningful reflection, and guidance and support throughout the process. The assigned work does not call for “booklists,” “summaries,” or “sample lesson plans”—rather that they work to intrinsically experience the self-selected text as a teacher, for example, relating to the text and learning to exercise sound professional judgment in terms of its potential use in the classroom—while continuing to think about the how and the why of building reflection into their professional practice.

Promoting Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education: A Call for Further Research Examining Practice As previously mentioned, concepts of reflection and reflective practice are characteristics of many courses in contemporary teacher education. It would appear teacher educators value opportunities to reflect and become reflective practitioners, and thus embed these throughout courses of study. However, I remain unconvinced we are actually accomplishing what we think and/or say we are accomplishing in the name of “reflection,” and propose we need to continue exploring related research and practice in this area. For example, as teacher educators, how do we actually present opportunities to reflect across the myriad of courses in which this verb appears? And do our teacher candidates truly understand a) the purposes of including “reflection” and


Susan E. Elliott-Johns b) critical distinctions between thinking and reflection? Again, to quote Ottesen (2007), who references Stein’s comment, (Stein being a student teacher from one of her classes) as follows: “Reflecting, reflecting, reflecting. I think all the time, don’t I? I mean, it’s not like I don’t think. What is it with this reflection thing that makes it so important?” (p. 32). Stein’s question, “What is this reflecting thing?” sounds very familiar (and furthermore, why is it so important?). A number of researchers have posed and pursued similar questions (Birmingham, 2004; Calderhead, 1987; Korthagen, 2001; Loughran, 2002; Russell, 2013; Zeichner, 1994). Rodgers (2002) also points out that a number of problems emerge in the practice and research on teacher education as a direct result of confusion around the meaning of reflection: What kinds of thoughts qualify as reflection? How can reflection be assessed? How can it be talked about? How can it be researched to determine what effects it has on teacher candidates’ learning about teaching? Further research is needed that investigates the perspectives of teacher educators— specifically in terms of the rationale (for) and effects (of) reflection in teacher education. For example, in-depth exploration of the work of teacher educators (including my own) who say they include reflection as an essential characteristic of their teacher education program. Six guiding questions are recommended, questions which might also be of interest to other teacher educators interested in exploring concepts of reflection and reflective practice in contemporary teacher education and professional learning: • What do we (as teacher educators) mean by reflection? (or, “What is this reflecting thing?”) • As teacher educators, how do we describe what we understand by reflection and reflective practice? • What do we intend teacher candidates to learn when we design and include opportunities to reflect in a) coursework? and b) field experience? • How do we teach reflection? What challenges and opportunities are encountered in this area of our own practice? • How do teacher candidates describe their understandings of reflection, and relationships between action/reflection in “learning about teaching”? • What can still be learned about reflection in contemporary teacher education?


Working Towards Meaningful Reflection in Teacher Education as Professional Learning

References Admiraal, W., & Wubbels, T. (2005). Multiple voices, multiple realities, what truths? Student teachers’ learning to reflect in different paradigms. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 11(3), 315–329.

Korthagen, F. (2001). Linking practice and theory: The pedagogy of realistic teacher education. Teaching and Teacher Education, 20(1), 77–97.

Birmingham, C. (2004). Phronesis: A model for pedagogical reflection. Journal of Teacher Education, 55(4), 313–324.

Korthagen, F., & Vasalos, A. (2005). Levels in reflection: Core reflection as a means to enhance professional development. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 11(1), 47–71.

Calderhead, J. (1987). The quality of reflection in student teachers’ professional learning. European Journal of Teacher Education, 10(3), 269–278.

Loughran, J. (2002). Effective reflective practice. In search of meaning in learning about teaching. Journal of Teacher Education, 53(1), 33–43.

Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (2000). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Loughran, J. (2006). Developing a pedagogy of teacher education: Understanding teaching and learning about teaching. New York: Routledge.

Dallas, D., Reed, M., & Graves, E.K. (2010). The impact of required teacher reflection on classroom practice and student learning. Kansas English, 94(1), 64–70. Day, C. (2003). The changing learning needs of heads: Building and sustaining effectiveness. In A. Harris, C. Day, D. Hopkins, M. Hadfield, A. Hargreaves & C. Chapman (Eds.), Effective leadership for school improvement (pp. 26–52). New York: Routledge Falmer Press. Dewey, J. (1956, combined edition of 1900 and 1902). The child and the curriculum. The school and society. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Dewey, J. (1997; original work published in 1910). How we think. Mineola, NY: Dover. Elliott-Johns, S. (2011). Exploring multi-modal literature response with pre-service teachers. LEARNing Landscapes, Vol. 4, No. 2, Spring, 2011 (pp. 169–186). www.learninglandscapes.ca Elliott-Johns, S., Booth, D., Rowsell, J., Puig, E., & Paterson, J. (2012). Using student voices to guide instruction. Voices from the Middle, Vol. 19, #3, 25–31. Grimmett, P., & Erickson, G. L. (Eds.). (1988). Reflection in teacher education. New York: Teachers College Press. Hargreaves, A., & Fullan, M. (2012). Professional capital: Transforming teaching in every school. New York: Teachers College Press.

Ottesen, E. (2007). Reflection in teacher education. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 8(1), 31–46. Rodgers, C. (2002). Defining reflection: Another look at John Dewey and reflective thinking. Teachers College Record, 104(4), 842–866. Russell, T. (1997). Teaching teachers: How I teach IS the message. In J. Loughran & T. Russell (Eds), Teaching about teaching: Purpose, passion and pedagogy in teacher education (pp. 32–47). London: Falmer Press. Russell, T. (2013). Has reflective practice done more harm than good in teacher education? Phronesis, V.2, #1, 80–88. Russell, T., & Korthagen, F. (1995). (Eds). Teachers who teach teachers: Reflections on teacher education. London: Falmer Press. Russell, T., & Loughran, J. (2007). (Eds). Enacting a pedagogy of teacher education: Values, relationships and practices. New York: Routledge. Russell, T., & Munby, H. (1992). Teachers and thinking: from classroom to reflection. London: Falmer Press. Schon, D. (1983). The reflective practitioner. San Francisco: Jossey Bass. Swartz, L. (1994). Reading response journals: One teacher’s research. In G. Wells (Ed.), Changing schools from within. Toronto: Ontario Institute for Studies in Education Press.


Susan E. Elliott-Johns Valli, L. (1992). Reflective teacher education: Cases and critiques. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Van Manen, M. (1977). Linking ways of knowing with ways of being practical. Curriculum Inquiry, 6(3), 205–228. Van Manen, M. (1991). The tact of teaching: The meaning of pedagogical thoughtfulness. London: Althouse Press. Zeichner, K. (1987). Preparing reflective teachers. International Journal of Educational Research, 11(5), 29–44.

Zeichner, K. (1994). Research on teacher thinking and different views of reflective practice in teaching and teacher education. In I. Carlgren, G. Handal & S. Vaag (Eds.), Teachers’ minds and actions: Research on teachers’ thinking and practice. London: Falmer Press. Zeichner, K., & Tabachnik, B. R. (1991). Reflections on reflective teaching. In B. R. Tabachnik & K. Zeichner (Eds.), Issues and practices in inquiry oriented teacher education. London: Falmer Press.

Susan E. Elliott-Johns is an Associate Professor and member of Graduate Faculty at Nipissing University in the Schulich School of Education, where she teaches courses and supervises graduate work. Research interests include teacher education, reflection and reflective inquiry, and educational leadership for contemporary contexts. Prior to joining the faculty at Nipissing, Susan enjoyed a very successful career in public education as a teacher (JK-8), literacy consultant, elementary school administrator, and teacher educator. An active member of ICSEI, AERA, and CATE, she frequently provides leadership through workshops, conference presentations, keynotes, and publications for teachers, administrators, and teacher educators across Canada, Europe, the United States, and Australia. LINK TO: http://www.nipissingu.ca/about-us/people/Pages/Susan-Elliott-Johns.aspx


The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching Paula Fortier, University of Saskatchewan

ABSTRACT Drawing on her lived experiences, and using the metaphor of a Snakes and Ladders game, the author reflects on her teacher practice related to using an inquiry approach in her French Immersion Kindergarten classroom. Looking backward while moving forward in time, she makes visible her process of change, foregrounding how her beliefs about children, teaching, and learning—her educational philosophy—paired with a new understanding of learning theories—in particular, constructivism—shape a pedagogical approach centered in inquiry-based learning. She stories her move from being structured and teacher-directed in her pedagogical approach to embracing an emergent curriculum and a student-centered pedagogy.

T

hroughout my career as a French Immersion elementary school teacher and especially over the last few years, I have truly felt that I am going through a process of change in my teaching philosophy, pedagogical approach, and practice. On occasion, I feel like the process of change I have been experiencing is much like a game of Snakes and Ladders. As in a Snakes and Ladders game, my teaching career has faced many ascents and descents. At times, I overcome new challenges or make discoveries through readings, conversations, and self-reflection which provide me the ability to climb that ladder to a new level of teaching. At other times, I find myself slipping down the snake-slides to old habits or a less student-centered curriculum that does not necessarily support my core beliefs. Up and down I go—but I do feel that somehow I end up further ahead regardless. In sharing my story of this journey of change, I am able to reflect on the process itself.


Paula Fortier

Before the Game Began Flashback – School Years 2005-2007 My Kindergarten classroom is a bright and welcoming place. The theme of the décor is primary colours. Many red, blue, and yellow bins are filled with different plastic toys, all sorted and tidy. There is colored paper with borders on all of my bulletin boards, boards filled with identical Kindergarten crafts made by my students. There are cheerful cartoon characters smiling back at me from the many displays—colours, days of the week, alphabet, numbers, and shapes—all with French vocabulary ready to be learned. These characters, like much in my room, are predictable—I have used these items from year to year and they appear like familiar friends. There are centers geared towards participation, for three or four students at a time, when the schedule permits it. The centers are organized this way so that students will feel safe, there will be less conflict, and students will get a turn to take part in every activity in which they are interested. My day is structured with many large group carpet-times where students listen to stories, participate in lessons which I present, and learn new vocabulary or concepts. These lessons are usually followed by opportunities to practice the new vocabulary or concept with a fun and interesting craft or worksheets we do as a class. My year is organized by monthly themes: Fall, Halloween, Transportation, Food and Health, Christmas, Winter, and so on. My students are happy, having fun, learning many new things—including a new language—and they love school. I am happy and I love teaching! Why would I need to change anything? When I recognized that I had in fact begun a journey of change in my pedagogical approach, I found myself pondering which came first—a change of practice or a change of philosophy? My reflection on this process of change has shown me how my beliefs about children, teaching, and learning—my educational philosophy—has paired with a new understanding of learning theories—in my case, constructivism—and has shaped a pedagogical approach centered in inquiry-based learning. As a result, my journey towards a more inquiry-based pedagogical approach has helped me as an educator to create a curriculum that is student-centered by being emergent—one co-constructed by me and my students.

Buying Into the Game Fall 2008 I sit in the library at the hosting school looking around at the other Kindergarten and PreKindergarten teachers gathered here. We have been invited to this professional development session to deepen our understanding of the new Play and Exploration Guide introduced by 124 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching the Saskatchewan Ministry of Education (2008). I have so many questions. How can this play-based philosophy fit in a French Immersion classroom? All this talk of inquiry and documentation—how can this be done in another language—a language to which these young children have not yet even been exposed? I just can’t imagine it. There is much talk of Loris Malaguzzi who became the inspiration behind the early childhood educational experiences in Reggio Emilia, Italy. Who is this man? I listen attentively. I learn that Malaguzzi was a primary school teacher who later went on to study psychology. While furthering his education, he also worked tirelessly with colleagues in Reggio Emilia to further his understanding of young children and how they learn. Then, he made it his mission to publicize his passionate belief in his image of the child—an image which is fundamental to the philosophy of education in Reggio Emilia, an image of children who are rich in potential, strong, powerful, and competent. In this view, the child is recognized as a person having his or her own values, who wants to be respected as a unique individual, and who embodies a curiosity and open-mindedness to all that is possible. I am nodding, feeling affirmed in my beliefs about children. However, if I believe these ideals to be true, how do they shine through in my practice? Reflecting on my philosophy. “What works in helping children to learn?” is a question I have often pondered. I remember as a child watching my sister struggle through school when I seemed to succeed so much more easily. As a parent, I have watched my children face different challenges in their learning. This wonder about children’s learning has been one of the main reasons for my choice to become a teacher and why I make an effort to be a reflective practitioner, searching for new ways to help each one of my students learn. This self-reflection has brought me to the challenge of enacting a new pedagogy and a new curriculum for myself and my students in our French Immersion Kindergarten classroom. I am humbled to admit that, in the last 18 years of teaching, I have not until recently truly researched and questioned which learning theory and method I was using or would be best for my students’ learning. I was simply teaching the way I had been taught to teach. I had been taught by traditional teachers with modernist views in structured settings. Doll (1993) describes this system of education as linear, sequential, and as an easily quantifiable ordering system, one focusing on clear beginnings and definite endings.


Paula Fortier Although I have always valued teaching and my students, I was feeling somewhat stagnant in my practice. After the Saskatchewan Ministry of Education developed the Play and Exploration, Early Learning Program Guide (2008), I was given numerous opportunities to rethink my current practices through professional development opportunities within my school division. I took part in everything that was offered and I was inspired by my school division’s Early Learning team. I have always had a natural, positive image of children, as well as a deep respect for the culture of childhood. However, this experience—learning about how others were teaching or guiding children using Malaguzzi’s inspiring example—transformed me, my teaching philosophy, and how I viewed both curriculum and my pedagogical approach to teaching and learning. The poem, The Hundred Languages of Childhood, by Malaguzzi (Reggio kids, 2014), inspired me, and I felt that its words were sadly true. “…The school and the culture… tell the child: that work and play, reality and fiction, science and imagination, sky and earth, reason and dream, are things that do not belong together….” I also listened to Sir Ken Robinson’s (2006) TEDtalk in which he stated that “schools can kill creativity” and I thought that I, too, may have been playing a part in taking the natural creativity out of our children. With this awareness, I began a new journey. Much like the excitement of opening a game box for the first time, I was filled with enthusiasm as well as some apprehension. I did not know the rules to this game; I had never played it before. Nevertheless, I was excited to learn something new, and so I rolled the dice.

Getting the Game Started Summer 2009 I am addicted to garage sales! I am constantly searching for objects, furniture, or any unique piece to make my classroom more inspiring and inviting. I also collect items from nature: bird nests, wasp nests, sticks, pussy willows, peacock feathers, branches from anywhere and everywhere. Today, I found an old chandelier! At the last garage sale, the woman took me into her backyard to show me what she creates in her spare time—willow trellises, tables, and chairs. “Would you be interested in these things?” she inquired. She even offered to come to school and show my students how she makes these willow creations. “Maybe they could each make a basket!” I found it interesting that simply opening myself to plan a more welcoming environment for my students and their families, in merely aspiring to have a classroom that can be the foundation of a more inclusive learning community, I was already developing relationships and finding experts to share their “funds of knowledge” (Moll, Amanti, Neff, & González, 1992). 126 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching Developing a new pedagogy. Changing my classroom environment was concrete, hands-on, and fun. I worked to create areas where children could be independent in their learning. I created aesthetically pleasing and inspiring spaces, gave the children more opportunity for experimenting in learning through play, and offered varied areas and time within our space and our schedule to do so. I was climbing many ladders towards my goal of a new pedagogical approach. With this change in environment, I began to pay more attention to the total school experience and to seeing planned curricular outcomes differently. I strove to empower children and their families in concrete and authentic ways. I wanted my students’ stories and experiences to drive my curriculum and for it to be attentive to the diversity in their lives. As I said before, I have always known children to be full of knowledge and naturally inclined to wonder, but I found my prior curriculum static and unsupportive of this belief. I was searching for a way to do, as Doll (1993) challenged, more than simply re-form my methods and practices, but to question the assumptions on which these methods and practices were based and to develop a new pedagogical approach to teaching and learning.

Rolling a Double and Climbing Up Some Ladders I was then inspired by Mary Cowhey’s 2006 book, Black Ants and Buddhists. I began looking for more opportunities to make connections between my students’ interests and the curriculum, to broaden and deepen their learning experiences, to increase authenticity in our classroom practices, and to build bridges between school and my students’ families as well as their community. I was moving from a teacher planned and taught curriculum to an emergent curriculum, one that arose out of the lives of my students. I was seeing my role as a teacher differently and my students’ positioning in relation to curriculum differently as well. With this new vision, I began creating curriculum with my students, just as Cowhey so often does. This new emergent curriculum arose out of the lives and interests of my students, rather than being made for them by me alone. My goal was to catch my students’ sparks of wonder and create a fire of learning. I wanted to observe them and listen to them. I wanted to be open enough to hear their questions and recognize their interests. I wanted to use their interests and inquiries to create an environment of learning where our mandated curricular outcomes would still be achieved. However, I continued to grapple with how this could be accomplished. As in a game of Snakes and Ladders, even with a goal in mind, I found myself sliding back a few spaces. I struggled with the inclination to adhere to my old ways, to rely on the


Paula Fortier planned, mandated curriculum, as I tried to integrate stories from my students’ lives, their wonders and their journeys into the curriculum. Facing this struggle, I felt I needed more guidance. Prior to the decision to further my education, I had not done a lot of reading on learning theories or early childhood development. Although I had often included reading and journaling as a process through which I obtained professional development, my choice in literature tended to be professional rather than academic. I enjoyed summaries of other educators’ successful practice, which I found offered motivation. However, when I was encouraged to read more academic literature in my graduate program, I recognized that rather than simply offering motivation, the academic literature provided me with the inspiration that comes from knowing the learning theory on which particular aspects of practice rest. With this new reading that related theory to practice, I found a stronger foundation on which to situate my developing understandings and choices. Prior to expanding and deepening my choice in literature, I assumed the way I had been teaching was the way it should be done. However, with my new inspiration from the philosophies of Reggio Emilia, and from my colleagues and professors, I was learning to label or put a name to the new practices I was implementing. I found myself asking, “Why am I now drawn to a more emergent curriculum—a curriculum that is based on the students’ interest and passions as well as the teacher’s? Why do I feel that this emergent curriculum is better supported by a different pedagogical approach than the one I have been using—one in which inquiry is central? What do I really know about this more constructivist approach?” September 2011 With my newfound enthusiasm I was determined to implement an inquiry-based approach to teaching and learning in my classroom. In French Immersion Kindergarten there is certain vocabulary that must be learned. Most Kindergarten-aged children know their colours in English, therefore the introduction of the French words for colours is non-threatening. I thought an inquiry-based approach to learning colours would offer a variety of interesting and engaging ways for children to use the new vocabulary in authentic situations. Prior to beginning this journey, I would have had my students colour work sheets, play organized games, work in a type of booklet or make a craft in order for them to practice, and for me to assess, their vocabulary learning. Then, early in my journey, early in my understanding of inquiry and assessment, I would have offered a variety of opportunities to the children to use the new vocabulary during play and exploration time, such as in 128 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching centers and classroom activities. Now, I had a different view. I felt that I better understood the complexity of children’s thinking and learning. I wanted my students’ experiences of learning to be deeper. This time, I slowed down, listened, and followed their lead. Although it was my choice to introduce the colour words in French, I wanted the students to guide their own learning and they had many great suggestions. After brainstorming about what we already knew concerning colour, one student asked, “What can we make with colour?” From this wonder, the students suggested many ways that we could create with colour. One child had an experience playing music with a coloured xylophone at home, so we inquired about creating music with colour. We set up a music exploration center with coloured drums, glasses of coloured water, and boom whackers as well as paper and markers where the children could write their own music. Another group of children suggested working as scientists and mixing primary coloured water in vials with droppers from tubs of water. From this investigation, the children had more questions about colour shades and how to create other colours, so we experimented with a variety of paints. The paints then triggered another wonder, “How do artists create with colour?” This wonder began a discussion about real-life art and abstract art. The students eagerly awaited opportunities to paint and use other mediums to create works of art, and we were drawn into a mini Van Gogh and Pollock art study. The students focused on many math concepts without even knowing it. They often asked for materials of many colours for sorting, patterning, and creating. Throughout the inquiry we had many philosophical discussions concerning colour when students wondered, “Where does colour come from?” We debated whether colours in our environment are natural or manufactured by people. I was surprised by some social awareness that came about from this inquiry on colour when we touched on the differences in the colour of a person’s skin. The children recognized through literature and through some deep discussion that some people at times make assumptions or stereotype other people because of the colour of their skin. One child even suggested spreading joy to others by using colour when they heard of a critically ill little girl who was collecting rainbows from all over the world.


Paula Fortier This was just the beginning. This was just a taste of the fulfilling, complex fire of learning for which I had been searching. A new curriculum. Keeping in mind that Schwab (1973) challenged educators to conceptualize curriculum as comprising four commonplaces of equal rank: the learners, the teachers, the subject matter, and the milieus, I thought it was important to reflect on my four curricular commonplaces. Who are my students and why are their interests and inquiries important? As a teacher, what are my biases, stereotypes, and truths that affect my interpretation of the formal curriculum? How can we work alongside each other—teachers and students—to achieve the curricular outcomes? How does teaching a second language, as in my French Immersion Kindergarten classroom, affect my curriculum and my pedagogy? How do I draw upon or how am I bound by my teaching milieus—my teaching environment, the culture of the school in which I am currently teaching, my classroom, my students and their families? I found the term “curriculum making,” used by Clandinin and Connelly (1992), as defining a teacher’s active inquiry into curriculum. “This term [is] expansive, capturing an understanding of how the teacher makes curriculum alongside their students” (Ciuffetelli Parker, Pushor, & Kitchen, 2011, p. 10). Clandinin and Connelly (1992) chose to use the term curriculum making rather than remaining with their earlier term “curriculum planning” (1988). Curriculum planning was a term which I was more familiar with because I had so often heard talk of it during my years as a teacher candidate and in my early years of teaching. I now recognize that curriculum making better defines what I want to achieve in my pedagogy. However, I also recognize that curriculum making is a more complex process because it truly is a human process and involves more than just a teacher’s input. This reality can sometimes cause teachers to slide back down some snakes as they engage fully in the game. What do I bring to curriculum-making and who am I as a facilitator in the process of curriculum-making? I continue to be moved by Cowhey (2006) as a curriculum-maker and as I continue to learn more about inquiry-based learning. I see the importance of critical thinking and the importance of teaching critical thinking skills implicitly in my classroom. Also, I see that family engagement (Pushor & Ruitenberg, 2005) is paramount to student success, being sure to consider the learners and their milieu, not simply the teacher and the subject area. In order to educate the whole child, it is important that we become part of a community of learners that includes the family of the child. Cowhey encourages me to look critically at each and every project I undertake in order not to reinforce stereotypes, oversimplify a problem or a solution, or fail to teach children an


The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching understanding of a social cause. She teaches the importance of authentic lessons as well as teaching compassion and empathy, true lifelong lessons. I understand, as Delandshere (2002) points out, that there is an essential need to reconnect our educational practices to theoretical and philosophical considerations as a means of clarifying the assumptions we make about learning and teaching. I was not sure how to accomplish this ideal until I was introduced to the idea of the critically reflective classroom through Riley and Rich (2011). The authors argue that creating such a classroom will call upon teachers to re-contextualize the school context. Critically reflective classrooms emphasize co-operation, co-learning, and the rights of the teacher, the students, and the students’ families. They are places where the teachers, the students, and their families share ideas about learning, what to learn, and the ways in which to learn. It is through teachers sharing their own stories with their students, as well as listening to their students’ stories with respect—“sharing stories of who we are and what matters in our worlds…stories of who we are now and who we might become” (p. 121)—that all involved in the learning process will come to fully understand critically reflective classrooms and what this type of classroom might offer. At a recent conference, it was exciting and thought-provoking to hear the keynote speakers Elena Giacopini and Loretta Bertani from Reggio Emilia, Italy (2012) explain that the approach used in Reggio Emilia was not a method, but an experience which is tied to the values and cultural aspects of their city. The infant and toddler centers and the preschools in Reggio Emilia have approached learning in an open way, using projects that are important in the mind of all citizens of every age. They spoke of the principles of early childhood education in Reggio Emilia and of their recognition that students should not be directly taught concepts but be given opportunities to construct their own theories. These theories are encouraged to be pliable so that they can constantly be changed as the students give them meaning and collect more knowledge. They spoke of many different ways and points of access to knowledge and they explained that often education systems are asking students to repeat and regurgitate information rather than to construct and share their knowledge and understanding. When reflecting on the traditional school systems I had come to know, I found this to be true. Doll (1993) wrote of how much of the pedagogical approach to curriculum to date has trained us to be passive receivers of preordained truths, not active creators of knowledge. I found that prior to beginning this journey towards a more emergent curriculum I had been teaching truths or facts to my students after which I was expecting them to demonstrate the accumulation of these facts.


Paula Fortier On the other hand, pedagogy like the one enacted in Reggio Emilia honors an individual’s ability to form, plan, execute, and evaluate. It calls for a curriculum, as Doll (1993) described, that needs to be created by the classroom community, not by textbook authors. It calls for a curriculum rich in diversity, as well as a classroom atmosphere that fosters exploration. As I worked to define the learning theories for myself, I found that these ideals aligned with what I understood to be a constructivist approach to teaching young children. Because constructivism views learning as a process in which the learner actively constructs or builds new ideas or concepts, it can be assumed that inquiry-based learning as a pedagogical approach arises out of the theory of constructivism. Constructivists believe that the learners construct their own knowledge and this knowledge is not set apart from the experiences of the learner or the community of learners. Tobias and Duffy (2009) cite constructivist authors who argue that “knowledge is situated in the activity of the learner and is a product of that activity and the context and culture in which it occurs” (p. 3). Although I recognize that my identity clearly supports a more constructivist approach to teaching, it also seems that many educators have occasions to find themselves, like myself, struggling to define and to apply a particular approach. At times we are climbing ladders and, at times, sliding down snakes.

Sliding Down Some Snakes and Learning Some Lessons February 2013 While working on inquiry with my students, I very much wanted the ideas and the wonders to come from the students. I was cautious to step back, wait patiently, and listen to hear their questions and discussions, to see where the next wonder would lead us. I found it very difficult not to answer their questions right away. I bit my tongue and wondered with them, even if the answer was obvious to me. At times the conversations just would not happen. The interest was not there. One example of this occurred during an inquiry study into the Northern lights. One day, after a long weekend in February, one of my students came to school excited to share an experience he had at his cabin in northern Saskatchewan. As he stood in front of the class, his excitement was contagious! He told us all about “the dancing lights in the night sky” and the other students were mesmerized. At the time, I was apprehensive. Did we really want to learn about the Northern lights in Kindergarten? How would I describe the 132 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching science behind the lights if I did not really understand it myself? Is aurore boréale and its surrounding vocabulary worth learning in French at this age? I was not sure how to respond or how to scaffold this excitement. Should I just let it pass? Should I let them figure it out in their own way? Although I ideally want to catch my students’ sparks of wonder and create many opportunities for discovery, I found it is not always a simple process and my role as a facilitator in their learning is not always clear. When we decided to go ahead and learn about the Northern lights, the results of this inquiry were amazing! We learned so many interesting things and chose many fascinating ways to represent our learning with plasticine, watercolour paints, tissue paper, food colouring, and the light table. The children in this particular group were so excited that I wanted both my Kindergarten groups to have the same experience. However, when I introduced the Northern lights idea to my other Kindergarten class and provided them the same materials and mediums with which to create, they were not interested in the same way. There was some curiosity on the topic but not nearly the same amount as the group who had been inspired by one of their peers. This was a clear example to me of the influence of the learning on the group when the curriculum came from the students’ interests. It was an example of the importance of being open to an emergent curriculum in my practice and the power that comes from using an inquiry approach in my pedagogy. What is inquiry? Initially in my practice, I had not put the focus on defining inquiry. As I began to research further, I was struck by the debate among educators and philosophers. One group of authors explains that “if inquiry is to continue to be useful, educators will have to press for clarity when the word enters a conversation and not assume they know the intended meaning” (Blanchard et al., 2010, p. 581). Up until then, I had definitely been making that assumption. The readings and discussions I have been having since that awakening have required me to define the term inquiry more specifically. The Merriam Webster dictionary (2013) simply defines inquiry as “a request for information.” While listening to the conversations of my graduate classmates and my colleagues at school, I found that inquiry, as a method of instruction, was defined in a variety of ways: open but guided learning, student ownership over the process of learning, teachers and students taking risks, teachers encouraging the representation of learning in creative ways, more authentic and meaningful subject matter for a specific group of students, teacher as facilitator or guide, the importance of the process over the end-result, more focused and engaged students, among others. I found myself in agreement with all of these definitions but overwhelmed with the broad spectrum they seemed to cover.


Paula Fortier I was comforted by the more comprehensive definition of inquiry given by Blanchard et al. (2010). The authors define levels of inquiry based on the descriptions of Abrams et al. (2007), which focuses on the goal one has for the inquiry and the instructional approach one uses to engage students—starting at traditional “verification” and moving to “structured,” “guided” and “open” inquiry (as cited in Blanchard et al., 2010, p. 581). Blanchard and colleagues (2010) explain that these designations may not always be clear-cut and that the optimal level of inquiry will vary according to the classroom context, individual students and, of course, the topic of inquiry. I found these descriptors supported my teaching and my view that all children and groups of children are unique in their learning. If teachers work to treat their students as the unique individuals that they are, they will be working toward the goal of an optimal learning environment. I recognize there is not any one pedagogical approach that will satisfy every learner. More than that, I recognize it is ideal to use a variety of methods based on the concept and the context. Cobb (1996) describes a common theme I found in much of the literature I have read, the idea that coordinating perspectives can be developed while addressing all students’ needs. He explains that teachers who act with wisdom and judgment are continually developing ways to cope with particular situations. Just as the research of Blanchard et al. (2010) documents the relative effectiveness of various levels of inquiry methods, the authors also suggest that it is important for teachers to understand that there is no singular “holy grail” of inquiry (Settlage, 2007, as cited in Blanchard et al., 2010). They remind us that teacher judgment is required to understand the optimal inquiry approach to use in any classroom context.

Getting Close to the Top of the Game Board Spring 2013 Who would have thought that the death of a classroom pet would bring about such an opportunity for learning? Our classroom had three well-loved pets: a bearded dragon named Spike, a corn snake named Lucky, and a spotted gecko named Lillian. When Lillian was found dead one morning, it caused quite a stir. “Why did she die? Did we not take good enough care of her? Was she sick? Are we caring for our pets properly?” Whew! Most of these questions left me feeling guilty, inadequate, and uncomfortable. I had, however, just finished a course offered through the Saskatchewan Teachers’ Federation called “Responding to Children’s Interests.” After the course, I had decided to really focus on teaching using an inquiry-based approach to achieve my curricular outcomes. I found one of the hardest parts of teaching using inquiry was the change in how a concept 134 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching is taught, or even which concept is explored, because it depends on the needs of the students rather than what I have decided—a new sense of curriculum—an emergent sense. At this point in time, I was no longer teaching by themes, following my year-at-a-glance, or making all the decisions regarding my students’ learning. I was working to consider my students as co-authors and not reverting back to the old power structures of a modernist classroom. I was also working to create a home-away-from-home atmosphere in my classroom and create open, trustful connections that empower students to participate actively and responsibly in their learning. I did a lot of brainstorming with the students and I always wrote down everyone’s ideas and questions without judgment. This was not always easy. I had to work to see myself more as mediator of learning alongside my students, and of an individual who was working to build a true learning community. I was no longer the keeper of the knowledge. With all this in mind, I embarked on a learning journey with my students for which I was not at all prepared. I did not have books or supplies that would support a unit of study on reptiles. I did not even know that much about reptiles. I had acquired all my classroom pets from others who could no longer care for them and, up until Lillian’s death, I had simply followed the instructions left by their previous owners. Now, this topic was something all my students were interested in and inquiring about. It was authentic. I started by writing down all their questions, then by separating them into similar groups. We decided, after some discussion, that what we really wanted to know was how to properly care for the reptiles in our school. We divided into groups of interest—some chose to study Spike the bearded dragon, some Lucky the snake, and some Leo the red-eared slider turtle that lived in the preschool room. My challenge was first to choose vocabulary that my students would focus on in French—reptiles had never been on my list of vocabulary to cover in French Immersion Kindergarten. Next, I needed to support their search for knowledge. How would we best find answers to their questions? We borrowed books, we used the SMARTboard to make searches on Google, and we invited experts to share their knowledge. We represented our learning in drawings, clay-making, and paintings. In our search for answers, we learned about others’ ways-of-knowing while reading First Nation legends about reptiles AND, throughout all of this study, I was no longer the only person speaking French in my classroom. My students were so enthusiastic about my engagement in their inquiry and their play that they were eager to use the new vocabulary I had introduced to them. I recognized that when the demonstration of skill—such as using new French vocabulary—was experienced in an authentic situation and in context with my students’


Paula Fortier interests, they were far more able to remember and use the vocabulary in authentic ways. My focus was more on the process of learning and the ongoing learning that was happening rather than simply the end result. Yet our end result was wonderful! We ended up presenting a learning expo on reptiles to our families and school community and we covered many of the curricular outcomes along the way. This experience was driven by the students, yet I could have easily missed the opportunity. Did the students do it all on their own? Of course not! It was a lot of work on my part but the risk and the work was worth it! A new pedagogical approach. I have gained much freedom within knowledge and self-reflection. Riley and Rich (2011) explored “curriculum as a story that unfolds and helps us to understand who we might become as teachers, co-learners and as human beings” (as cited in Stanley & Young, 2011, p. 101). I feel that reflecting on my lived experiences is an important step in understanding and creating a new philosophy of education. While I think my main goal in the initial stages of my teaching career was for learning to be fun, I have now climbed ladders to a place of new understanding and expectations for my students. I now desire deep learning and understanding, critical thinking, authentic engagement—so much more than fun. However, there are still more ladders for me to climb and some snake-slides to slip down. Just as Clandinin and Connelly (2000) describe a philosophy of education based on a foundation of lived experiences with a focus on shared narrative, I make efforts to share my lived experiences and be open to the narratives surrounding me, but I also feel that I am still learning. While reading the children’s book Dream by Susan Bosak, a quote by Friedrich Nietzsche heartened me. He stated that one “who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying” (as cited in Bosak, 2004, n.p.). At times throughout this journey, I felt I was crawling or walking or dancing. Other times I felt I was standing still and, recently, there have finally been times when I felt I was flying. Throughout this learning, I worked to remember that this journey of change has been like playing a board game and it has taken patience to roll the dice and move forward a few squares at a time. I have now shared part of my story—my questions, challenges, and celebrations. I recognize that through a renewed philosophy, the development of a new pedagogical approach, the co-creation of an emergent curriculum, and the implementation of many new practices, I continue to question who I might become as an educator and I look forward to the future.


The Ups and Downs of a French Immersion Kindergarten Teacher: My Journey Toward an Inquiry-Based Approach to Teaching

References Bosak, S.V. (2004). Dream. Whitchurch-Stouffville, ON: TCP Press. Blanchard, M. R., Southerland, S. A., Osborne, J. W., Sampson, V. D., Annetta, L. A., & Granger, E. M. (2010). Is Inquiry possible in light of accountability?: A quantitative comparison of the relative effectiveness of guided inquiry and verification laboratory instruction. Science Education, 94(4), 577–616. Ciuffetelli Parker, D., Pushor, D., & Kitchen, J. (2011). Narrative inquiry, curriculum making, and teacher education. In J. Kitchen, D. Ciuffetelli Parker, and D. Pushor (Eds.), Narrative inquiries into curriculum making in teacher education (pp. 3–18). Bingley, UK: Emerald Group Publishing. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (1988). Teachers as curriculum planners: Narratives of experience. New York: Teachers College Press. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (1992). Teacher as curriculum maker. In P. Jackson (Ed.). Handbook of curriculum. (pp. 363–461). New York: Macmillan. Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (2000). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers. Cobb, P. (1996). Where is the mind? Constructivist and social constructivist perspectives on mathematical development. Educational Researcher, 23(7), 13–20. Cowhey, M. (2006). Black ants and Buddhists. Portland, MN: Stenhouse Publishers. Delandshere, G. (2002). Assessment as inquiry. Teachers College Record, 104(7), 1461–1484. Doll, W. E. (1993). A post-modern perspective on curriculum. New York: Teachers College Press. Inquiry [Def. 2]. (n.d.). In Merriam Webster Online, Retrieved from: http://www.merriam-web ster.com/dictionary/inquiry.

Moll, L., Amanti, C., Neff, D., & Gonzalez, N. (1992). Funds of knowledge for teaching: Using a qualitative approach to connect homes and classrooms. Theory Into Practice, 31(2), 132–141. Nietzsche, F. (n.d.). BrainyQuote.com. Retrieved from: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/ quotes/f/friedrichn159166.html Pushor, D., & Ruitenberg, C. with co-researchers from Princess Alexandra School. (2005). Parent engagement and leadership. Research report, project #134, Dr. Stirling McDowell Foundation for Research into Teaching, Saskatoon, SK, 79pp. Retrieved from: http:// w w w. m c d o w e l l f o u n d a t i o n . c a /m a i n _ mcdowell/projec ts/research _rep/134_ parent_engagement.pdf. Reggio kids (2014, May 2). Loris Malaguzzi’s poem The hundred languages of childhood. [Web log post]. Retrieved from http://www. reggiokids.com/about/hundred-languages. php Riley, T., & Rich, S. (2011). No more boundaries: Narrative pedagogies. Curriculum and imagining who we might be. In D. Stanley & K. Young (Eds.), Contemporary studies in Canadian curriculum: Principles, portraits, and practices (pp. 101–123). Calgary: Detselig Press. Robinson, Sir K. (2006, February). How schools kill creativity. [video on TED.com.] Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robin son_says_schools_kill_creativity Saskatchewan Ministry of Education. (2008). Play and exploration, early learning program guide. Regina, SK: Ministry of Education. Schwab, J.J. (1973). The practical: Translation into curriculum. School Review, 81, 501–522. Tobias, S., & Duffy, T. M. (2009). The success or failure of constructivist instruction: An introduction. In S. Tobias & T. M. Duffy (Eds.), Constructivist instruction: Success or failure? (pp. 3–10). New York: Routledge.


Paula Fortier

Paula Fortier

has been a French Immersion educator for almost 20 years. She currently teaches Kindergarten with the Greater Saskatoon Catholic Schools in Saskatoon, SK where she lives with her family. She graduated from the University of Regina with a Bachelor of Education and recently completed a Master’s degree in Curriculum Studies with a focus on Early Childhood Education at the University of Saskatchewan. Her passion resides in children of all ages but she has an exceptional love and respect for early childhood and second language education.


Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education Amanda Nicole Gulla, City University of New York

ABSTRACT This article discusses the importance of teacher candidates writing poetry in their education methods classes in order to reflect upon and examine their beliefs about teaching and learning. Writing poetry in a teacher education context is also important because it prepares teachers to use these techniques with their own students. By writing poetry in the context of academic study, learners can see metaphorical connections between events and ideas. This stands in contrast to the idea put forth in the Common Core Standards that college and career readiness is best developed through reading and writing informational and argumentative texts.

H

ow does one learn to develop and enact all the complex layers of a teacher identity? Where and how do we find within ourselves the raw materials to mold into a teacher? Who is the self that teaches (Palmer, 1998) and how can that self effectively manage all of the moving parts of a functioning classroom, especially when faced with the increasingly daunting task of navigating complex standards and assessments? If teaching is considered by educational philosophers like Dewey (1934), Eisner (1994), and Greene (2001) and practitioners like Mitchell and Christenbury (2000) to be an art form, then is “the self that teaches” akin to what writers and other artists refer to as “voice?” Moreover, what difference could it make to students whether or not their teachers have the opportunity to express themselves creatively?


Amanda Nicole Gulla These are the questions that inform our teaching methods courses in English Education in a large city university, teaching graduate students preparing to become certified to teach English grades 7-12. For the purpose of this article, these graduate students will be referred to as teacher candidates. While a teacher’s work is governed by a responsibility to serve students within some version of a socially constructed notion of “school,” what kind of room does that leave for a teacher to weave his or her own unique creative vision into that professional role? When one attends meetings at schools about curriculum, professional development, or even special programs for enrichment, one seldom hears the word “creativity” at all. In fact, I have heard the word “creative” used dismissively, pejoratively by teachers and administrators who value a pedagogy based in uniformity and discipline. Maxine Greene, quoted in the NY Times (Arenson, 2001), says: “Imagination is given a very small place in the way people talk about learning today, but it is a way to go beyond, to break through boundaries.” This is why we have woven into our methods classes multiple opportunities for teacher candidates to engage in creative writing and art making, as well as prolonged study of non-textual works of art including paintings, photographs, and performances in dance, music, and theater. Allowing teachers to explore their own creativity and imagination in methods classes broadens the nature of the questions they pose in relation to the curriculum, their students, and themselves. Kara, an eighth grade teacher in my Methods of Teaching Writing class, wrote in her final reflection paper: I’m so deeply grateful that we got to spend time in this class writing poetry. It gave me a chance to use writing to explore what is going on in an interaction with a student, and it helped me see possibilities for getting my students truly invested in their own writing. Whether or not this is intentional, The Common Core State Standards (CCSS) and their accompanying assessments, adopted by 45 out of 50 states in the United States as of this writing, have added considerable exigency to the sense that there is an overwhelming amount of information to be assimilated in preparation for teaching. This has left many teachers and administrators with the sense that there is little or no time for poetry or experimental writing. This impression might also have been reinforced by disparaging comments made by David Coleman, one of the authors of the English Language Arts standards, regarding the practice of having students write personal memoirs. Before a 2011 gathering of educators in Albany, New York, Coleman said: “As you grow up in this world, you realize people really don’t give a shit about what you feel or what you think” (Ohanian, 2011).


Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education The CCSS strive for “career and college readiness” through an emphasis on reading “informational texts.” This is widely interpreted to mean nonfiction, although a persuasive argument could be made that it would be difficult to find a text that does not contain information of some kind. Furthermore, the language of the CCSS states: “…the overwhelming focus of writing throughout high school should be on arguments and informative/explanatory texts” (2011). The CCSS calls for adopting the 2011 National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) Framework for writing, which requires the distribution of student writing in the 12th grade to be 40% to persuade, 40% to explain, and 20% to convey experience. For those of you keeping score, that is 0% to imagine, 0% to innovate, and 0% to experiment and play with language. Even within the parameters of national learning standards there can still be room for inquiry, imagination, and creativity. If we want an education that helps students pursue self-motivated inquiry to acquire the skills of lifelong learners; if we want them to have access to multiple modalities of expression; then we need teachers who can teach these things. Teacher education courses have often included opportunities for candidates to experiment with multiple modalities of learning including the artistic and kinesthetic. These techniques are sometimes used in conjunction with exercises designed to help candidates develop understandings about principles of teaching and learning by exploring their own histories and beliefs. In my own methods classes we use the study of one or more works of art as a focal point for discussion and writing. In using Mary Whalen’s portfolio of photographs of objects found in an attic called Household Artifacts (2011), we explore ways in which some artists have mined the mundane for symbolic meanings. We study this portfolio in conjunction with readings of Neruda’s Ode to Common Things (1994) and Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried (1990). Against the backdrop of this inquiry into various artists’ storytelling through objects, the teacher candidates write their own narratives or poems centered on personal artifacts. In response to these experiences, one student wrote this on our class online discussion board: I’ve never been exposed to this writing approach before, using objects to inspire. I feel like it is a very powerful and personal medium. When I was writing about my object, my necklace, which I certainly prized beforehand, aspects I hadn’t even considered began to emerge. I think that was the biggest revelation. Through writing, we not only put our thoughts down on paper, but the writing process itself can breed new thoughts and ideas. (Online reflection, 2014) The teacher candidates saw value in mining their own lives for stories to help them find their own voices as writers because it would help them become better teachers of writing. Here is another student’s reflection on the discussion board:


Amanda Nicole Gulla This is a great way to get students to create imagery in their writing. I have had students write short memoirs before, and I struggled with getting all of them to write in detail. I think having them choose an object that is/was significant to them would help, and they would produce better writing with a clear focus. (Online reflection, 2014) School systems tend to regard arts programs with a kind of ambivalence. Few administrators would actually say that they do not value the arts, but in tight budgetary times they are often the first item to be cut. Davis (2008) quotes a school committee member: Our students have so many demands on them from staying out of trouble to gaining the skills to be successful in the adult world. The important subjects in preparing students for such responsibility are reading, science and math. No frills. (p. 25) Eisner has also observed that the arts are either implicitly or explicitly treated as a frill in relation to the school curriculum. In the traditional K-12 school, art is a discrete subject that students partake in once a week, if at all. It is rare in public schools that students beyond elementary school will have experiences with more than one art form, say visual art and music, in any given semester. Grades in art classes often do not count toward graduation credits, and students are quite aware of this. According to Eisner (2002): Although elementary schools are generally supposed to provide programs in the arts, few thought-out and competently taught art programs exist at this level. Elementary school teachers have little background in the arts and, in general, are not well prepared to teach them. At the secondary level, where there are art specialists, the arts are taught in about half of all secondary schools and only 20 percent of the school population enrolls for as little as 1 year. This neglect of the arts, compared with, say, the sciences, leaves students unable, by and large, to deal meaningfully with sophisticated forms of the serious arts. (p. 106) Because many students come through American schools having had little exposure to the arts or opportunity for creative expression, teacher candidates who are products of this schooling need to spend time in methods courses immersed in encounters with works of art (Greene, 2001). Furthermore, the act of making art (in this case writing poetry) in response to art deepens and enriches understanding. Dewey (1934) speaks of the importance of an “esthetic apprenticeship” while Greene (2001) refers frequently 142 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education to the need for learners to have art-making experiences in order to better understand the artist’s process. Using teacher candidates’ responses to works of art to activate their imaginations and develop a degree of comfort with moving from imaginative ideas to creative expressions of their own helps them begin to find ways to facilitate their middle and high school students’ creative development. When teacher candidates spend time with the process of writing poetry they are using language—the currency of the English classroom—as the medium with which to explore how their identities may shape them as teachers. Snowber (Wiebe & Snowber, 2011) suggests that the act of poetic inquiry, specifically writing autobiographical poems, “insists on a willingness to be vulnerable…from which we can profess a creative experience of educational practice” (p. 449). The value of the willingness to channel one’s vulnerability through the conduit of creativity is related to what Maxine Greene (1994) means when she says that she can try to achieve her “freedom in an expanded sphere” and “act—as teacher, as practitioner— to transform…what alienates people from themselves” (p. 27). Namely, that when a teacher establishes a professional identity that allows her to enact a version of herself that is whole and authentic, that form of interaction tends to invite students to bring their authentic selves into the classroom as well. Education methods courses are spaces in which teacher candidates learn to approximate various teaching practices including writing lesson plans, administering assessments, and presenting lessons. Because of the need to give candidates as much preparation as possible for their own (sometimes future, sometimes current) classrooms, there has always been a pragmatic emphasis on what we do in the classroom rather than why we do it (Applebee, 1998). This is understandable, but I would argue that it is equally important for teachers of all subjects to spend some time engaging in activities designed to uncover and articulate unexamined beliefs about teaching and learning and also about their own relationship to the material they are teaching. Writers about writing as diverse as James Britton (1970) and Stephen King (2000) put forth the notion that the act of writing allows the thinker to see what it is that she knows and believes unfold before her on the page. It has been my experience that writing poetry in teaching methods courses is an effective way of having teacher candidates explore issues of identity. Anne McCrary Sullivan (2000) describes the relationships between poetry and educational inquiry to be “multiple, subtle and complex” (p. 220).


Amanda Nicole Gulla The nature of poetry leads one to craft metaphors that capture and describe the essential core of an experience. In Ely’s view, a poem: “encapsulates the essence of an event that many of us have lived in our own way at one time or another . . . the intensity and the compression of poetry emphasizes the vividness of (a) moment” (Ely, Vinz, Downing, & Anzul, 1997, p. 135). Moreover, it is the practice of viewing and making art, and the immersion in poetic language, that establishes metaphorical thinking. This practice takes hold only after multiple encounters and experiences both responding to and making art. For Eisner (2002): “The ability to think metaphorically is not the outcome of a single occasion; it requires repeated opportunities to explore the poetic use of language, a use of language that generates meaning through indirection, allusion, and innuendo” (p. 12). This need exists not only for children, but also for their teachers. Many teachers’ own school experiences did little to build comfort with using writing as a tool to develop thinking. Far too many school writing assignments are “dummy-run experiences— written on demand, for a teacher to evaluate about a topic the writer didn’t choose” (Mayher, 1990, p. 227). They exist for the sake of demonstrating knowledge, not exploring evolving understandings. Because of high stakes standardized tests that emphasize argumentative writing, it is virtually guaranteed that large numbers of students will have little or no opportunity for poetry or other forms of expressive writing in school. This represents a missed opportunity to develop broader world understandings through the ability to comprehend the ways in which art and literature reflect human experience. Our world, filtered through media, the arts, and our own senses, is understood through a web of interconnected metaphors. Much has been written about the notion that we understand the world largely through metaphor (Lakoff & Johnson, 1980; Geary, 2011). Metaphors serve the essential cognitive function of bridging from the familiar to the unknown by using descriptive imagery that allows learners to use their prior knowledge to understand new information. To “train” the mind “to help you open your ears so that you can begin to hear metaphorically instead of concretely” (Campbell & Moyers, 1988, p. 77) is to foster the ability to see beyond the literal, and to begin to understand the interconnectedness of human events across cultures, geography, and time through the web of metaphor. Wherever possible, I attempt to plant the seeds of metaphorical thinking before our students become teacher candidates. I teach an undergraduate lecture course called “The Hero’s Journey in Literature and the Arts” to students who are considering 144 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education entering the education minor course sequence. In this course we read a number of texts by Joseph Campbell, including The Power of Myth (1988), in which he explained that myths may be understood metaphorically. An example of one such metaphorical phrase is “identifying the Christ within you” (p. 46). Having already established that Campbell considered the words “myth” and “religion” to be essentially synonymous, some of the more religious students protested vocally that their religion was literally true and to suggest otherwise was blasphemy. I had been arguing that accepting the premise that all myths (i.e., all religions) can be understood metaphorically means that all religions contained some truth within their common ideas. We discussed the seemingly uncanny recurrences across the globe of certain ideas, images, and symbols as evidence that all religions were as the branches of a single tree, the roots of which are expressions of the life cycle of earth and particularly of human life. It was a delicate space from which to conduct a class. In the end, the most vocal of the protesters wrote this in her final reflection: Before this course I had never even considered another point of view. While I still hold the same beliefs I did before, I am forever changed in that now I am willing to listen to opinions and beliefs that may not agree with mine. I don’t just listen, I actually think about them. (Student reflection paper, 2012) For someone who may eventually become a teacher, the ability to consider another person’s point of view can represent an enormous shift in practice. It can make the difference between being a teacher who “imposes inarticulateness” (Greene, 1995) upon his or her students, or “provokes learners to pose their own questions” (p. 11). The ability to consider another point of view is crucial to the development of critical thinking skills. Our class discussion of myths and metaphors arose from a semester-long study of stories representing different versions of the hero’s journey in literature, film, visual art, and popular music. We looked for the common threads in all of these stories and students used them as touchstones for writing their own creative works they shared with their classmates. It was the two-way exploration of metaphors, reading them in the works we studied and then writing them in their own stories that grounded the difficult discussions around religion. The community created by those shared experiences made it possible for that student to begin to listen in ways she never had before. Studying the connections between works of art and our own experiences opened the door to deeper understanding.


Amanda Nicole Gulla An education that is richly infused with a variety of works of art exposes students to responses to human events that have taken place over the broad sweep of history. And writing poems in response to those works of art, if done thoughtfully, teaches young people not just how to express their feelings, but gets them to stand in the ever-flowing river of history, entering into conversations with all of the writers and artists who have come before them, commenting on the human experience. This is the promise of poetry that is rooted in an aesthetic encounter with a work of art. When we teach students how to deeply notice what an artist is doing and how she is doing it, we are getting at the essence of what that art is about. We are helping young people to understand that having a voice is not just about saying whatever is on your mind, it is about finding connections between your personal experiences and essential truths about life on earth. It allows us to recognize the metaphors in great works of art that speak to universal experience. By entering into dialogues with works of art that speak to aspects of the human experience, we are drawing from the well of mythology (Campbell, 1991). Once students begin to recognize the mythological archetypes that recur across time, cultures, and art forms, they can see their metaphorical significance in their own lives and in contemporary society. Once they have been awakened to the broader meaning of stories, they can begin to use them as another means of crafting an argument that goes beyond the limited scope of the Common Core. It is easy to argue for a kind of skills emergency when it seems that so many students graduate from high school unprepared for the rigors of college-level reading and writing. By squeezing out the opportunity to interact with imaginative texts, we lose the opportunity to teach the lessons that are best learned from fiction and poetry as well as the study of other art forms. As the poet William Carlos Williams (1962) said: “It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there” (p. 161). More to the point, by focusing narrowly on a limited range of types of writing, we actually deprive learners of strategies and broader understandings that could help them achieve the goal of writing clearly and persuasively. Surely no one would argue against the importance of developing facility with academic reading and writing. However, by failing to ensure that students have ample opportunities to read and write poetry and fiction, in addition to reading informational texts and writing expository essays, we miss opportunities to teach students the almost endless variety of possible approaches to constructing and conveying arguments. Conventional wisdom suggests that if we want people to acquire the skill of writing a cogent, persuasive, and factually supported argument, we want to teach them the steps and then have them practice the skill of writing argument papers repeatedly. This provides a singular, and quite literal approach in that it ignores a multitude of 146 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education possible forms of constructing an argument metaphorically. Similarly, a privileging of “informational texts” over fiction and poetry leaves out all the ways in which literature can hold up a mirror that allows us to understand some fundamental facet of the human experience through metaphor. As graduate students, new and pre-service teachers have abundant opportunities to engage in expository writing about pedagogical theories or in response to literary texts. Such writing, intended to convey formal ideas, is what Britton (1970) refers to as “transactional.” Graduate students in education also often have teaching and learning journals that they may share with their instructor or with a group in online formats. These fit into the category Britton calls “expressive writing.” Such writing may remain in its existing form, or may be revised into formal expository or transactional writing. These types of writing represent only two of the three types that Britton describes. A third type, rarely engaged in teacher education contexts, is “poetic writing.” For Britton, transactional writing “may elicit the statement of other views, of counterarguments and corroborations or modifications . . . Poetic writing, on the other hand, demands a ‘sharer,’ an audience that does not interrupt” (p. 175). Britton explains that a piece of writing may start out as expressive and may move through revision to either transactional or poetic writing. It is not only the poetic writing itself that teachers rarely have the opportunity to do in a formal setting, but also the kind of response poetic writing tends to engender that they rarely experience. Britton explains that when a piece of writing moves from expressive to poetic, it “reaches a wider audience . . . by heightening or intensifying the implicit” (p. 177). In other words, poetry demands that a reader or listener respond to the world the writer has created as a whole, rather than piecemeal as one might a piece of transactional writing. This process of intensifying the implicit in writing poetry allows learners to make sense of the world through writing. As Murray (1978) explains, “I believe increasingly that the process of discovery, of using language to find out what you’re going to say, is a key part of the writing process” (p. 91). The poet Alan Dugan (1978) said: “When I’m successful, I find the poem will come out saying something that I didn’t previously know, believe, or had intellectually agreed with” (p. 101). The spare language and imagery of poetry can help both the writer and the reader see the essence of an idea or experience as it is expressed in writing. By capturing experiences in poetic form we transform those experiences from the particulars of our lives to the universal. This is what metaphors do—they allow others to have access to that which is universal within our very specific and disparate lives. In the process of transforming lived experience to writing, we carefully choose words for just the


Amanda Nicole Gulla right meaning, sound, and rhythm to convey our message. Like Dugan, I have often discovered meanings that had previously been hidden to me through the process of crafting a poem, whether it be a slow, methodical process or the occasional surprise of the poem that appears to spring full grown from the writer’s head. When I assign poetry in methods classes, teacher candidates often report continuing the practice on their own as a way of helping them work through complex and evolving ideas and relationships in the context of their teaching. The value of poetry as a tool is repeatedly confirmed when teacher candidates report writing poems beyond their class assignments, spending their free time writing poems about encounters with students, administrators, or even family members as a way of both describing and making sense of them. An excerpt from a poem by a first year teacher in my Methods of Teaching Writing in Middle and High School course clearly shows her working out her feelings about school: I work on swollen feet with calloused hands, crack skulls to the beat of foreign phrases so pardon me if my sympathies are reserved for the young. Later the author of this poem said, “I needed to write that in order to realize how much I really do align myself with my students.” Reading this excerpt of her poem, however, one cannot help but see the ambivalence alongside her sense of alignment. Her “sympathies may be reserved” for her students, but the image of cracking skulls suggests that sometimes those sympathies are tested. The poem created a safe space for her to express conflicting feelings and come through that by expressing a value that was important to her sense of self as a teacher. As teachers develop the practice of writing to develop their own thinking, they become more comfortable with teaching this strategy to their students. The practice of having their students write poems to situate themselves in relation to their studies can also stand the teacher candidates in good stead in their own classrooms, as they introduce new content by having students begin with focused writing that may lead to poetry or other forms of writing related to the subject matter. Even for teachers of very young children, this initial inquiry can be pursued in the form of drawing and writing assisted by a teacher or a peer.


Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education Writing helps students become invested in subject matter, build a frame of reference, and form questions to guide their reading and learning (Bean, 2001). Poetry in particular forges a connection between the learner and the subject matter, as writing poetry is seen as an invitation to view the subject matter as human and personal. From high school students in an automotive shop class writing lighthearted poems personifying brake fluid as it flows through an engine (Darvin, 2001) to eighth graders writing poems in the voices of slain Civil War soldiers in their American history class (Gulla, 2009), the close attention required to give voice to another is itself a form of inquiry. Students’ learning is propelled by their own curiosity. This is how Sue, a middle school Social Studies teacher, and I responded to the problem of having a single school year to teach all of American history from the Civil War to the present. She had been in my Writing Methods course (even though it was an English Education methods course, students did sometimes cross programs to take additional methods courses), in which I had introduced the strategy of “text-on-text conversations” (Daniels & Daniels, 2013). There are many variations on the activity, but it essentially consists of grouping students together to read a short, challenging text and conducting a discussion of the text by writing comments and questions in the margins and then responding to each other’s marginalia. After Sue graduated she asked for help incorporating writing into her Social Studies classes. We approached the task by asking how we could teach this massive amount of material in a way that students would become invested in the events they were learning about. To this end, we planned for me to pay several visits to her classroom so that we could co-teach her students. Thinking about how information in Social Studies (like most other academic subjects) is introduced almost exclusively via the written word, we thought it might be effective to use visual images to introduce an idea before they read about it, so we adapted the text-on-text conversation to use pictures to generate the written conversations. I gathered copies of Matthew Brady’s iconic Civil War battlefield photographs and placed each one in the center of a large sheet of newsprint. Organizing the class into groups of four, each group was assigned to write around the margins of their photograph. At first I instructed them to simply label what they saw in the picture. Then I asked them to analyze and question, speculating as to what they thought might be going on in the scene. Finally, they were each to choose a point of view from within the photograph and write a poem. Here is one of the students’ poems:


Amanda Nicole Gulla I am the sky looking down upon the blood-soaked earth. Dead soldiers’ limbs entangled, brother next to brother. Impossible to tell who is on what side. But I, the sky, remember the whip striking the backs of slaves. My sigh is the wind and my tears are the rain as I look down upon another day of bloodshed. The student who wrote this poem spent time looking and thinking deeply about the images in the photograph and what they meant. He connected the bloody battle scene to the acts of violence that led to the war, and expressed his own feelings as personified by the omniscient sky. This was a powerful example of teaching history without a textbook, using primary source documents and student-driven inquiry. Later, we used Picasso’s Guernica to teach about the Spanish Civil War. Students wrote passionately about the images in that painting—the screaming horse, the bereft mother holding her deceased baby, and the mysterious light bulb in the middle of it all. The use of creative writing in response to vivid visual imagery sparked discussions about war writ large and its place in human history. Again, it was a gathering of ideas around metaphors that helped students not just to learn about history, but also to understand it. Such discussions do not usually come from memorizing names, dates, and battles. The conversation about whether or not it is important for teachers or students to write poetry is connected to where one stands on the issue of whether or not anyone should expect the world to care what we think or feel. Perhaps Mr. Coleman has a point, if he means that students learn little from writing memoirs that are devoid of reflections or revelations, or are written in language that is colloquial and childish. If this is his point, then his standards are pitifully low. There is nothing as meaningful, as “astonishingly precise” (Geary, 2011) as a metaphor. By encouraging metaphorical thinking through encounters with the arts and through writing poetry, we give these teacher candidates the tools to understand universal connections between stories and between lives, and to pass these experiences on to their own students.


Myth, Metaphor, and Metacognition: Shaping Voice and Identity Through Poetry in Teacher Education

References Applebee, A. (1998). The enterprise we are part of: Learning to teach in The Word for Teaching is Learning: Essays for James Britton: M. Lightfoot and N. Martin (Eds.). London: Heinemann, Ltd. Arenson, K. (2001, October 3). One philosopher’s alchemy: Teaching as romance. NY Times. Retrieved from: http://www.nytimes. com/2001/10/03/nyregion/one-philoso pher-s-alchemy-teaching-as-romance.html Bean, J. (2001). Engaging ideas: Guide to integrating writing, critical thinking, and active learning in the classroom. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Britton, J. (1970/1992). Language and learning (2nd edition). Portsmouth, NH: Boynton Cook. Campbell, J., & Moyers, B. (1988). The power of myth. Flowers, B. (Ed.) New York: Doubleday. Campbell, J. (1991). Reflection on the art of living: A Joseph Campbell companion. D. Osbon (Ed.). New York: HarperCollins. Coleman, D. et al. (2011). Common Core State Standards in ELA. Retrieved from: https:// www.engageny.org/resource/new-yorkstate-p-12-common-core-learning-stan dards. Daniels, H., & Daniels, E. (2013). The best-kept teaching secret: How written conversations engage kids, activate learning, grow fluent writers. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.

Eisner, E. (1994). Cognition and curriculum reconsidered (2nd edition). New York: Teachers College Press. Eisner, E. (2002). The arts and the creation of mind. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Ely, M., Vinz, R., Downing, M., & Anzul, M. (1997). On writing qualitative research: Living by words. London: The Falmer Press. Geary, J. (2011). I is an other: The secret life of metaphor and how it shapes the way we see the world. New York: HarperCollins. Greene, M. (1994). Teaching for openings: Pedagogy as dialectic. Pedagogy in the age of politics: Writing and reading (in) the academy. P. Sullivan & D. Qualley (Eds.). Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English. Greene, M. (1995). Releasing the imagination: Essays on education, the arts and social change. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Greene, M. (2001). Variations on a blue guitar: The Lincoln Center Institute lectures on aesthetic education. New York: Teachers College Press. Gulla, A. (2009). Changing things as they are: Promoting social justice through encounters with the arts. University of Pennsylvania. Perspectives on Urban Education, 6(2), 51–57. King, S. (2000). On writing: A memoir of the craft. New York: Scribner Lakoff, G., & Johnson, M. (1980). Metaphors we live by. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Darvin, J. (2001). On filling out forms: A more powerful version of workplace literacy. English Journal, 91(2), 35–40.

Mayher, J. (1990). Uncommon sense: Theoretical practice in language education. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.

Davis, J.H. (2008). Why our schools need the arts. New York: Teachers College Press.

Mitchell, D., & Christenbury, L. (2000). Both art and craft: Teaching ideas that spark learning. Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English.

Dewey, J. (1934). Art as experience. New York: Penguin Press. Dugan, A. as cited in Murray, D. (1978). Internal revision: A process of discovery. In C. R. Cooper and L. Odell (Eds.), Research on composing: Points of departure. (pp. 85–103). Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English.

Murray, D. (1978). Internal revision: A process of discovery. In C. R. Cooper & L. Odell (Eds.), Research on composing: Points of departure (pp. 85–103). Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English. Neruda, P. (1994). Odes to common things. New York: Hachette.


Amanda Nicole Gulla O’Brien, T. (1990). The things they carried. New York: Houghton Mifflin. Ohanian, S. (2011). The crocodile in the common core standards. Retrieved from: http:// susanohanian.org/show_commentaries. php?id=984. Palmer, P. (1998). The courage to teach: Exploring the inner landscape of a teacher’s life. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Sullivan, A.M. (2000). Notes from a marine biologist’s daughter: On the art and science of paying attention. Harvard Education Review, 70(2), 211–227.

Whalen, M. (2011). Household Artifacts. Retrieved from: http://www.marywhalen. com/MW_ DreamWeaver/mar y whalen _ currentwork.html Wiebe, S., & Snowber, C. (2011). En/lived vulnere: A poetic of im/possible pedagogies. In S. Thomas, A. Cole, and S. Stewart (Eds.), The art of poetic inquiry. Big Tancook Island, Nova Scotia: Backalong Books. Williams, W. C. (1962). Asphodel, that greeny flower in Pictures from Brughel and other poems. New York: New Directions Books.

Amanda Nicole Gulla is an Associate Professor of English Education at Lehman College of the City University of New York and the Professional Development Liaison for middle and high schools. She is on the advisory board of the Maxine Greene Center for Aesthetic Education and the Social Imagination, and co-edits the center’s newsletter. Her research and publications include the topics of aesthetic education, poetic inquiry, and the formation of teacher identity. She is also a poet whose work has appeared in several literary and scholarly journals. She is the author of a poetry chapbook, A Banner Year for Apples (Post Traumatic Press, 2010).


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology Mary Lynn Hamilton, University of Kansas Stefinee Pinnegar, Brigham Young University

ABSTRACT Using self-study of teaching and teacher education practices (S-STEP) research as an example, we explore intimate scholarship and the ways it captures particular lives and experiences within the educational world. To do that we define, explore, and consider how teachers and teacher educators can use this personal and vulnerable scholarship. We provide an example as evidence of ways that intimate scholarship in the form of S-STEP supports learning from experience. We assert that positioning researchers to examine what we know about teaching and being a teacher educator is profitable for the larger research conversation.

I

n this article we take up Maxine Greene’s (1995) call for seeing the particularities and intricacies in the lives of students, teachers, and teacher educators as valued issues to be studied. We make this turn toward what we see as intimate scholarship (Hamilton, 1995) because only a subjective, relational, and close look can expose those aspects of our lives. Intimate scholarship takes up ontological stance where recognition of the individual/collective relation has value, uncovers embodied knowing through autobiography and action, and explores the coming-to-know process based in dialogue (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2014) that captures particularities to document the ways we navigate lives and experiences in the educational world. When engaged in intimate scholarship teacher educators reveal the vulnerabilities and passions that most often remain hidden in talk about experience.


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar Although there are several methodologies that fit within the description of intimate scholarship, like life-history, narrative inquiry, and autoethnography, for the purpose of addressing the theme of this issue—Teacher Education: Learning From Experiences— we look at self-study of teaching and teacher education practices (S-STEP) research and how this methodology fosters thoughtful work of teachers and teacher educators as they examine their practices and context. As these studies build toward a compilation that echoes in the lived experiences of teachers and teacher educators, we see the potential for it to fundamentally inform research. In reviews of research on teacher education published in the last decade, authors point to a need for research to guide teacher education (e.g., Darling-Hammond & Bransford, 2005). Such reviews usually promote quantitative research models with randomized trials, controlled experimentation, large data sets, and hierarchical linear modeling as the approach to be taken. Seemingly each year, researchers develop new forms of statistical analyses to collect more data to test more students to regulate more teachers in order to control, perhaps even more than strengthen, educational systems. Cochran-Smith (2005), Ball and Forzani (2011), and others have insisted on identifying specific, generalizable practices that can be most productively and efficiently applied across contexts so that systems can be uniformly monitored to create the desired kinds of teaching and teacher education. Whether in the Netherlands (Koster & Dengerink, 2008), or Europe generally (ATEE, 2006) or Australia (Ingvarson & Rowe, 2008) or China (Xudong Zhu & Xue Han, 2006), extant data sets serve as the basis for uncovering best practices as researchers argue for the best ways to improve students’ learning and teachers’ teaching. Greene’s (1995) observation made long ago still seems apropos today, that the, “vision that sees things small looks at schooling through the lenses of a system – a vantage point of power or existing ideologies – taking a primarily technical point of view” (p. 11). She points out that, …seeing schooling small is preoccupied with test scores, “time on task,” management procedures, ethnic and racial percentages, and accountability measures, while it screens out the faces and gestures of individuals, of actual living persons. And indeed, it seems more equitable to many of those who take a general view to do their surveys and their measurements without consciousness of names and histories. (p. 11) We seem unable to see the trees for the forest. If teachers, teacher educators, and teacher education programs were a generally homogeneous group, taking a “small view” might make sense.


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology But, we are not. Rather, we are a wonderful collection of similar differences or different similarities that shift any assumed sense of certainty that research based in such data sets might suggest. From this view, scholars (see Bullough, 2008) argue that research on teaching and teacher education will be more helpful in the preparation of new teachers if it emerges from more focused exploration. For example, Putnam (2004) asserts that in careful study of the particular and the local, insights to guide our responses to recurring difficulties are more likely to emerge. To release the imaginations of teachers and teacher educators, Greene (1995) recommends that we remember their integrity and particularity, where we must, “see from the point of view of the participant in the midst of what is happening if one is to be privy to the plans…the initiatives…the uncertainties they face” (p. 11). Here, from our perspective of intimate scholarship, she privileges individual knowing to make sense of the practical and social milieu where it exists as statistics and numbers mask these particularities. “Seeing large” allows us to see individual events, persons, or contexts more clearly and develop practical (Schwab, 1970) responses to the difficulties of our time and place. At this moment, then, when so many researchers are seeing teacher education small, we turn our attention toward seeing “large,” focusing on the particular to shift understandings of teaching and teacher education as we explore learning from our experiences. When using this form of scholarship the researcher is both the focus and the author of the study and provides an insider’s perspective into practice and experience (Pinnegar & Hamilton, 2009). “Looking large” provides a fruitful way to examine identity, inquiry, and pedagogy. For the purpose of this article we examine, define, illustrate, and consider the strengths of “seeing large” using intimate scholarship and explore how teachers and teacher educators can use this methodology, with its personal and vulnerable approach, to reveal and illuminate knowing of the particular in ways that connect to the works of others and move our understandings of teacher education forward as we learn from experience.


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar

Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology Within the recent past S-STEP has developed as an intimate methodology that has gained recognition as a genre of educational research (Borko, Liston, & Whitcomb, 2007). We define S-STEP as “a methodology for studying professional practice settings” (LaBoskey, 2004, p. 817; Pinnegar, 1998) and identify its most salient characteristics as: “…self-initiated and focused; …improvement-aimed; …interactive; …[that uses] multiple, mainly qualitative, methods; …[and a]…process based in trustworthiness” (LaBoskey, 2004, p. 817). S-STEP (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 1998) research methodology allows researchers to examine and improve professional practice through developing assertions for action or understanding wherein professionals who generate and work within that practice setting engage in a systematic reflexive process. As an intimate methodology, it enables researchers to position their research in the ontological space between self and other, where examination of what we know about teaching and being a teacher educator is most profitable for the larger research conversation on teaching and teacher education. This methodology involves attention to both the self and the other and knowledge emerges as teacher educators uncover their knowing in relationship to that of others in the practice under study—there is always tension between the stories of self and the stories of others. S-STEP methodology attempts to reduce puzzlement as a way to understand the informal logic of actual life (Geertz, 1983). Wolf (1992), as others have after her, suggests that it is in our “willingness to speak and write about experience that results from our serious engagement in discovering what we can about how life is lived in another social/cultural setting” (p. 128) that the deepest understandings and knowledge develop. In her work Wolf explores the “messy stuff of experience” (p. 58) but cautions researchers to be respectful of those people with whom they work. She points out that issues of interpretation depend upon who is writing, thinking, and considering the work. As Wolf struggled to examine how her work expressed experience, so do many who engage in methodologies of intimate scholarship. Like Wolf, we have found that work grounded in S-STEP methodology goes beyond field notes and offers no one truth since researchers, as well as the others involved, will see things differently even as they grapple with similar evidence (Arizona Group, 2004). We agree with Wolf, experience is messy and as researchers we must be both careful with and tolerant of the ambiguity, multiplicity, contradiction, and instability of the messiness. As good researchers engaged in intimate scholarship, when we sit down to work we remind 156 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology ourselves that life is “unstable, complex and disorderly” (Wolf, 1992, p. 130) and we must wade through and pluck out the important bits. As Mason’s (2008) work on complexity theory indicates, regardless of our educational practices, what future teachers learn from us will always be filtered through the lenses of their own understanding and experience. They take up the understandings and curricular practices that most resonate with their own vision of what it means to teach and their evolving identity as teachers. Just as we did when we became teachers and then teacher educators (Arizona Group, 1995), this new generation of teachers integrates the understandings and practices they are taught into their own emerging teaching repertoire. For teacher educators engaged in the design and enactment of practices that support teacher preparation, who simultaneously study teaching and teacher education, an intimate look at their experience allows them to develop understandings and contribute to the research conversation. Indeed, utilizing methodologies and orientations allows teachers and teacher educators to uncover and excavate their tacit (Polanyi, 1967) and personal practical knowledge (Clandinin, 1985) developed in the present moments (Stern, 2004) of their practice that may remain hidden from those using other forms of research.

Aspects of S-STEP A strong S-STEP study engages elements of good research practice (not always in a linear fashion) that includes the following: provocation. This can be a paradox or a puzzle about what we know and how we know it. Perhaps, at this point, something nudges our ontological stance, gently or harshly, causing pause and an opening to consider and reconsider our ontological commitments. The next element is exploration. At this point we investigate our resources, our ideas, and our knowledge. Here we do general pondering and at this moment in our work, we relate our ideas to the broader research literature. Refinement ensues as our background and experience guides us in deciding what is worthy of study, asking what is important to our practice and our students. This is a decision point where we identify focus. Here we ask: is the idea worthy of further study? To design the study we use the Framework-for-Inquiry and the Framework-for-Analysis (see example) to forward our research process. With the focus identified, we design an open-ended study where in our internal discussions we bring our background as researchers to the forefront: pondering carefully the “who and how” of our exploration—methodology, strategies, and so on.


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar Once data collection begins, we engage in a reconsideration process as we move from the field to our data and back again. Within these processes, we focus on ways to strengthen our understandings as we bring the data collected alongside our ontological stance and experience, next to dialogue with others, in concert (or not) with what we come to see as exemplars. As we do so we ensure that our evidence represents the research undertaken and again we situate our ideas in relation to the theoretical and practical work of others. Within any form of research, researchers are expected to act with integrity. In S-STEP methodology, with self-in-relation-to-Other as a primary focus, attending to this requires more vigilance because the work as intimate scholarship seems more inextricably connected to the researcher and more vulnerable to such questions. Moreover, S-STEP methodology requires attention to ethical action. How the researcher acts with integrity, trustworthiness, and transparency is connected with readers’ decisions to judge the work and the researcher trustworthy. The presentation of our work is the final element in S-STEP methodology. How we present our work publicly invites colleagues into a shared conversation to strengthen and build professional knowledge. In each step along a study’s path we question our process and our progress.

Inquiry and Analytic Frameworks For us, the intimate scholarship of S-STEP begins with the framework-for-inquiry as a guide (Pinnegar & Hamilton, 2009), to identify questions and concerns, reveal context, connect to research literature, identify methods, determine the data we would collect as evidence and the appropriate forms of analysis. These are the decisions that support the development of our thinking about practice and experience. When considering study possibilities we dedicate ourselves to the interruption and disruption of strongly held values/views so that we challenge the practices and stances we bring to our classrooms and elsewhere. As we work, we turn to the framework-for-analysis (Pinnegar & Hamilton, 2009) to ask ourselves a series of questions about purpose, definitions, location of self, apparent engagement in the work, data collection and analysis choices, connections of the data collected with the assertions made, issues of trustworthiness, and the research literatures we engage with. In analysis we attempt to divine themes and organize ideas to explore our storied and (re)storied experiences in our own idiosyncratic contexts (Clandinin, 1993) and how we resolve the “abiding tensions” of our lives not merely in retelling our lives but in the lives we live. We understand, as both Polkinghorne (1988) and Clandinin and Connelly (2001) point out, that before we can tell a story we must live the story. 158 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology

Dialogue Dialogue, as we argue (Pinnegar & Hamilton, 2009), is an important facet of analysis in S-STEP research with cycles of personal reflection, professional interchanges, and public analysis followed by private analysis (Arizona Group, 2006) and holds a central role in our analytic/interpretive process. In dialogue we put forward an idea, meet it with reflection, critique, supportive anecdote, and analysis, raising questions about insights expressed. A basis for meaning-making emerges (e.g., Arizona Group, 2004) with practice, theory, and experience intertwined. Since we focus on relational interaction, the inquiry exists in an inconclusive state where understandings are solidified in the moment but consideration of the ideas may continue (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2014). After rigorous interrogation of data meanings, we develop understandings that allow confident action. Indeed, dialogue is the process for coming-to-know as well as the process by which we ensure the authenticity and veracity of claims of S-STEP research. When engaging in dialogue, the ideas we have and their relationships to practice become established as legitimized assertions regarding the ontological context of researchers’ practice. In this way, dialogue becomes a crucible in which knowledge is shaped, linked to evidence, and gains authority.

Excerpts as Example In the next section we offer an example from our own S-STEP to illustrate the systematic consideration of a teacher educator’s work that reveals her thinking and how she learns from experience by considering carefully students’ oral and written responses and the context within which she practices (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2010). With MLH (Mary Lynn Hamilton) as researcher and SP (Stefinee Pinnegar) as critical friend, we began a study of practice (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2010). (You will note an I/we usage dependent upon our roles as a researcher or as writers-together.) The intention for this study centered on a search for evidence in students’/my conversations/writings regarding my curricular plan to facilitate the development of our understandings of professional knowledge. S-STEP offered an excellent methodology to research my experience as I attempted to introduce social justice and reflection into the professional lives of my students. I wondered how I might bring reflective inquiry and self-study together in my curriculum. Most clearly they seemed to link through my students’ and my own desires to improve our practice and contribute to the lives of others. As we progressed through our study, we attempted to unravel aspects of experiences that arose while engaged in practice.


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar To begin I/MLH imagined ways to explore ways to draw culture and cognition together for my students to fit with my desire to promotion reflection and introduce them to S-STEP methodology. In this way, I thought I could facilitate the exploration of their identity and development as teachers as I explored my identity as teacher educator and developed my own professional knowledge.

INTRODUCTION TO STUDY As the study began MLH identified questions and concerns, context, literature, strategies, and the data to collect as evidence using the Pinnegar and Hamilton (2009) framework-for-inquiry as a guide. FRAMEWORK-FOR-INQUIRY Questions: Initially, I looked for a way to best prepare my students for the challenges of 21st century schooling and inspire them toward creativity and the use of critical thinking skills. How could I offer my students ways to incorporate cultural responsiveness, reflection, and dialogue to serve as tools in their teaching? Context: my classroom. Literature: To support my work, I drew upon the variety of sources and the support of my critical friend. Strategies: To work within the context, I looked for ways to best explore these issues including the use of class dialogue, particular assigned readings and presentations, plus I thought that writing assignments would enhance possibilities for revealing the development of their language and thinking around these issues. Data used as evidence: I explored the spaces between my students’ accounts and my own accounts in the classroom. From the students, with their permission and that of the IRB, I collected a series of writings and other materials as they engaged in their first professional course; after they made an explicit declaration of their commitment to teaching as a profession. Next, using the Hamilton and Pinnegar (2009) framework-for-analysis, I asked the questions to ensure (as much as possible) that I stayed true to my methodology and I used my journal, student documents, and dialogue records to provide answers. The study centered my desire to draw together social justice (SJ), reflection, and cultural responsiveness to prepare my students for the 21st century schools. I cannot speak for my students as my study focused on my own experience. Given that, I looked for: evidence of critical thinking as evidenced by their use of


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology language that elaborated—or did not—on the issues we addressed in class. We provide detail elsewhere (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2010), but to offer a glimpse into the intimate aspects of our work: Students Students within our university elementary program are typically white, female, and middle class; excellent students who say they seek academic challenges. For this research, while I looked at data collected from all students, I randomly selected six students whose work I highlighted for detailed examination. Teacher Educator I am a white, middle-class academic woman who has been a teacher educator for more than 20 years and a teacher longer than that. I bring a commitment to integrity, trustworthiness, and compassion to the work I do. I find myself guided by the strength of my beliefs in the relation of I-to-Other, in SJ and in community. Classroom My students and I came together in a course entitled Curriculum and the Learner in Elementary School, an initial course for future teachers where I support them as they begin to find their identities and develop their professional knowledge as teachers. In the classroom, I engaged in face-to-face and email conversations with my students; I documented dialogue and conversations with students. I collected class documents including life-history assignments, midterms, their course notes, and final essays. I wanted to see the ways students’ work echoed—or did not— the issues we addressed in class. In turn, I kept a journal where I asked myself questions about my students, queried my ideas, and interrogated issues that emerged in student stories and about the ideas presented in class. In an attempt to reveal aspects of classroom life and explore how my students incorporated ideas presented in class into their thinking—if they did—I selected examples of what I said in class during presentations, what students said in class during discussions, and what students remembered about ideas as evidenced in their writing assignments and what I wrote about class sessions. Specifically I looked for elaboration and creative use of those ideas to capture development. EXTRACTS FROM STUDY The two extracts below represent examples of the S-STEP in which we engaged as researcher/critical friend. As we looked through the data, we hoped to explore our experience as teacher educators and the ways that vulnerability, relationship,


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar ontological stance, embodied knowing, and dialogue interact as we consider ways to support students as they build their identity as teachers and ways we experience and build our own identities as teacher educators. We hoped to identify growth in thinking along with evidence of their deepening understandings about reflection and SJ. We tried to distinguish between “thinking about” and reflection as students investigated the ideas presented alongside their own understandings. EXTRACT ONE Early in the course, I presented a summary of Dewey and issues of reflection. As this is one of the initial courses in their professional education program, I knew that they had not explicitly addressed reflection in previous classes. I planned to engage students by looking at their prior knowledge and building ideas through dialogue. My plan included a brief introduction to and discussion about experiences with reflection and examples of others’ reflections. I decided to introduce reflection—by my definition a tool to facilitate the exploration of SJ—first and then return to it throughout the course. What I said to my students: Using a short PowerPoint presentation, I intro duced information drawn from Dewey, Rodgers, Loughran, and others. What students said: To begin class, we all offered memories of experiences in our own lives. “I reflect all the time,” said student 1. “We have to reflect in all of our classes,” said student 5. “Well, what does that look like?” MLH said. “Thinking”,” piped student 5. “So, thinking is reflecting?” I asked. “Well…” paused student 8. “Not according to the PowerPoint…” acknowledged student 9. And so it went. What I wrote about the class session: Did it make sense to them? Did I provide enough examples? While I think my presentation was adequate, I worry that they considered “having thoughts” to be reflection. If that’s true, how can I address that? Back to the event, I think the PowerPoint as a graphic organizer helped students think about teaching, as did my reflections about planning. I want them to connect reflection and openness as well as understand learning from modeling to support their learning-to-teach process.


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology After class they offered positive comments about the presentation and discussion. While I appreciated their perspective, I worried about sincerity. After years of students talking positively in class and offering stinging rebukes in course evaluations, I felt wary of the smiles and expressions of excitement and understanding. What students remember (a selection of assignments during the semester): Here’s what I found in their writing assignments. On their midterms: (Students were expected to define terms “in their own words” for the exam and write an essay that applied what they learned about reflection.) Student 1: Reflection…is a way to develop professional knowledge. Teachers usually reflect when something is puzzling/curious or something… Reflection is important to a teacher because it is a way for him/her to make understanding out of a situation. It opens opportunities to look at situations from different viewpoints. Student 8: One critical issue to consider is the students’ ability levels. I plan to teach lessons in multiple ways so that students of all abilities will learn. As I continue teaching, reflective practice will address students’ diverse needs. Student 9: Reflection is important to ensure that we meet learning objectives. It’s important to evaluate oneself and improve/alter ways of teaching to meet the needs of students and teach in ways that enhance learning. In their final essay: Student 8: Regarding field experience…my experience combined gave me a fairly complete view of the school context. I also learned about reflection through my teacher interview, helping me gain insight into a teachers’ thinking. As we progressed in our study, it seemed that “seeing large” helped reveal knowing on particular experiences but knew we had to keep looking. Not long after the lesson on reflection, I presented information on SJ and the underlying principles related to the care and support of their future students. I used the same format of presentations, dialogue, examples, and reflective writings. EXTRACT TWO What I said to my students: We live in an institutionally racist society. Given that elements of racism permeate our institutions, we must be vigilant to address fairness, regardless of our color, our class, our gender, or our


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar ethnicity. For me this requires more than the use of a multicultural text from time to time, it requires attention to all elements of the curriculum. What the students said: Student 14 asked, “Don’t we all support the notion that all children can learn?” Another student (3) stated, “I have had little experience with diversity, but I am open to everyone.” MLH asked, “How will you bring that to your own classroom?” Student 15 said, “I will pay attention to their ability levels.” Another student (3) responded, “I’m not sure I’ll teach in a place where there will be much diversity.” MLH stated, “Then your support of issues of SJ will be more crucial and need to be explicit.” What I wrote about the class session: SJ. In a class where the instructor clearly supports such a perspective, who is going to offer contradictions? Given that wondering, the students seem supportive of SJ and how it fits in their classrooms. They talked about believing in the idea of no child left behind while not supporting the federal translation of it. We attempted to link our readings with their lives and their first experiences with difference. As students from suburban/rural settings, their definitions of diversity are limited, but they have to start somewhere. I don’t know what they learned; I have to hope for the best. From an organizational perspective, I think the lesson was organized well and that I achieved the modeling, dialogue, and presentation of information that I wanted to do. What the students remember: writing assignments.

Here’s

what

I

found

in

their

On their midterms: Student 8: SJ—individuals treating each other with dignity, humility, and honesty. It promotes sensitivity to oppression and diversity. Student 9: SJ ensures equal opportunity for every person with the absence of discrimination of any kind. In their final essay: Student 8: One of the first concepts we discussed in class was SJ and cultivating humanity. From these concepts I learned that institutional racism exists in the U.S. I also learned that it’s important to teach students about oppression and diversity. It is not enough for a teacher


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology to treat all students equally; teachers must also teach their students how to be sensitive and knowledgeable about the differences and similarities between themselves and their classmates…In order to teach students about these concepts, teachers must incorporate them into many curricular content areas. Student 9: It’s always good to be reminded about issues concerning SJ and specifically to think about how we can bring SJ into the classroom. The most striking information gleaned from this semester concerning SJ came from McIntosh’s white privilege article. I hadn’t thought about the many ways that my race has set me in a position of privilege in society…These issues have been addressed in almost every teaching class that I have taken and I know that teachers need to be fair to all students, but these articles helped me see that SJ doesn’t just concern big issues addressed in the media, but also concerns things in society that go unnoticed… FRAMEWORK-FOR-ANALYSIS EXAMPLE At the end of the semester I reviewed data collected, looking for expressions of experience and what might emerge from the pages of our work. With SP we engaged in dialogue about my experience along with her experience and understanding of my experience. We could see that student stories revealed their struggles to understand their perspectives about SJ as they learned to reflect. My experience exposed tensions between my practice and my students. What I hoped to convey did not achieve my desired result. The students expressed an interest and even, sometimes, a commitment to these issues theoretically, but little evidence existed in their work that they deeply understood or acted on them. In class, students expressed interest related to SJ issues. In conversations before and after class we talked about cultivating humanity and reflection. In class I might ask, “How would you begin to reflect on this issue?” Or “How can you explore these ideas to move beyond your stereotypes,” I might query. Sometimes I offered examples of my own related experience or detailed my reflections on classroom preparation. From time to time as we talked, students would tell me that they were glad to address these topics and issues. But, still, I wondered whether or not they were taking ownership of these ideas. I wanted to know whether they incorporated these ideas into their professional knowledge. In an attempt to find out, I decided that the best way to achieve that was by looking at the language they used to express themselves. I figured, and research suggests, that elaboration upon ideas indicates in some way how people build ideas and develop thinking


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar around concepts. I wondered, “Did my students simply echo the information I presented or did I see evidence of the ways they took ownership of ideas and built upon them?” Analytic Example regarding reflection As I read responses and coded writings, I discovered that my students often echoed my words in their writings. Although I encouraged them to devise their own meanings for concepts, when asked to define concepts, they used my words. For example, Extract 1 reveals many echoes. However, I also saw forays into more critical thinking. For example, Students 1 and 9 built upon my ideas and used their own words to define reflection. In her essay, Student 8 added texture to her understanding. In their final essay, students were asked to demonstrate what they learned in class. To do this they needed to synthesize what they have learned, how they learned it and the ways they will use their learning in future teaching, making vivid links between assignments completed and their learning process. Only one of my highlighted students addressed reflection. Analytic Example regarding SJ Regarding SJ, I found several levels of response in their writings. When asked for definitions, they most often echoed my words. In her essay, student 8’s writing tied reflection as a tool together with SJ. While her response seemed idealistic, she also demonstrated attempts to elaborate on ideas and a willingness to be open-minded. Generally, students seemed to grasp SJ theoretically, but didn’t seem to have ownership of it. I believed that an expression of ownership would be threaded throughout their writings. On their final essay, only two focus students recognized SJ and reflection as important parts of their learning and offered an extension of those ideas in their writings. My early readings and thinking about the class and student writings, noted that I labeled my students parrots who lacked critical thinking skills and who provided no evidence of a socially just perspective and reflective nature or a willingness to push beyond superficial conversation. Initially, I felt disheartened and unsuccessful, thinking that worries evidenced in my journal had come true. As I pressed onward, I recognized a desire to delve more deeply into what I thought I saw in my data. Particularly when I looked at the writings of Students 8 and 9, I saw the budding understanding of these ideas in my experience during the semester. The ways that these particular students developed their thinking in their writings suggests a willingness to embrace reflection, SJ, and beyond, and provided clues about ways to develop my practice and my curriculum for future classes.


Intimate Scholarship in Research: An Example From Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices Methodology As a methodology, S-STEP helped us, as researcher and critical friend, navigate through this intimate examination of our practice. From this study we came to realize that trying to support shifts in students’ core beliefs or perspectives takes more than one semester of work—perhaps requiring that an entire program commit to the exploration of such perspectives. We also come to understand the powerful connection between modeling these concepts more explicitly while practicing a socially just curriculum. Just as importantly, the presentation of this work makes visible that using tools like the Framework-for-Inquiry and the Framework-for-Analysis supports our research by giving us confidence in the conduct of studies. Our study of a teacher educator’s practice captures the experience of exploring ways to navigate the classroom, explores the professional knowledge held by the teacher educator, and notes the expression of ideas identified as critical to the learning-toteach process. Studies like ours that take up intimate scholarship make public some of the hidden knowledge or unarticulated practices that might remain as folklore rather than research knowledge it studies by “seeing small.” Our example demonstrates how teacher educators can make visible what they learn from experience and serves as a model to begin building a body of work that can “see large” and contribute to the study of professional knowledge and practice.

Conclusions This article draws attention to S-STEP methodology as an example of intimate scholarship that focuses on the particular to explore practice and experience with laser-like attention on unexplored issues to develop stronger teacher education programs and teaching practices. In turn, attention to the ways in which those using this methodology demonstrate trustworthiness has the potential to ensure standards of quality for those exploring the complexities of teaching through examinations of experience. Considering this methodological approach to research and its unique nature can move us beyond traditional views of what constitutes valuable research. As Putnam (2004) suggests, close examination of particular problems can help us examine and respond to practical intractable problems. The nested nature of our stories and experiences translated to knowing that can inform the practice of teacher education. Uncovered through research, knowledge of particulars can string together like pearls to form a necklace of understanding. Recognizing the ways local, particular understandings


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar can enter the realm of the general in teacher education has implications for what counts as knowing in teacher education research. Exploring and re-exploring understandings of methodology and trustworthiness based in these ways of knowing can support us as teacher educators. In our example, we demonstrate that identifying critical ideas for students’ consideration, and tracking oral and written student/teacher educator responses in the moment and throughout the course allows a teacher educator to make visible what she comes to understand about her practice, curriculum, and the ways certain learning activities develop professional knowledge of all people involved. In the current era of teacher education reform and renewed orientation toward performance-based teacher education to produce effective teachers, research on teaching and teacher education situated in the subjective and focused on developing understandings of the particular hold great research promise. We can, as Greene (1995) suggests, “see large”—seeing teachers, teaching, and teacher educators in the midst of experience against the horizon of studies that “sees small” to release our imaginations. Preparing new teachers to engage in complex classrooms to meet student needs is an ongoing challenge that cannot be met by training teachers to use a specific set of practices with minor adjustments across any context. Rather, taking up intimate scholarship to explore our experiences and our thinking and action as teachers and teacher educators allows us to develop deeper understandings of practices and experience. Such intimate scholarship always begins with and implicates our understandings of ourselves and our experience in relation to those we educate and our imaginings about those they will educate. From this orientation, use of intimate methodology to capture these emergent understandings opens ways to change and facilitates the possibilities for learning from experience. Studying how to meet the challenges or failures we experience in our practice can be an exciting endeavor to support teachers/teacher educators evolve as teachers and thinkers.



References Arizona Group. (1995). Becoming teachers of teachers: alternative paths expressed in beginners’ voices. In F. Korthagen and T. Russell (Eds.). Teachers who teach teachers: Reflections on teacher education (pp. 35–55). London: Falmer Press. Arizona Group. (In alphabetical order: Guilfoyle, K., Hamilton, M. L., Pinnegar, S., & Placier, P.) (2004). Chapter 28: The epistemological dimensions and dynamics of professional dialogue. In Loughran, J., Hamilton, M. L., LaBoskey, V., & Russell, T. (Eds.) International handbook of self study of teaching and teacher education practices (pp. 1109–1166). Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer Press. Arizona Group. (In alphabetical order: Guilfoyle, K., Hamilton, M. L., Pinnegar, S., & Placier, P.) (2006). Exploring the concept of dialogue in teaching practice. In Kosnik, C., Beck, C. & Freese, A. (Eds.) Making a difference in teacher education through self-study: Studies of personal, professional, and program renewal (pp. 51–64). Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Kluwer Press.

Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (2001). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Cochran-Smith, M. (2005). The new teacher education: For better or for worse? Educational Researcher, 34(7), 3–17. Cochran-Smith, M., & Zeichner, K. (2005). Studying teacher education: The report of the AERA panel on research and teacher education. Washington, DC: The American Educational Research Association. Darling-Hammond, L., & Bransford, J. B. (2005). Preparing teachers for a changing world: What teachers should learn and be able to do. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass education series. Geertz, C. (1983). Local knowledge: Further essays in interpretive anthropology. New York: Basic Books. Greene, M. (1995). Releasing the imagination: Essays on education, the arts, and social change. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers.

Association for Teacher Education in Europe (ATEE). (2006). The quality of teachers recommendations on the development of indicators to identify teacher quality. ATEE.

Hamilton, M. L. (1995). Confronting the self: Passion and practice in the act of teaching or My Oz-dacious journey to Kansas! Teacher Education Quarterly 22(3), 29–42.

Ball, D. L., & Forzani, F. M. (2011). Building a common core for learning to teach, and connecting professional learning to practice. American Educator, 35(2), 17–21.

Hamilton, M. L., & Pinnegar, S. (1998). The value and promise of self-study. In Hamilton, M.L. (Ed.) Reconceptualizing teaching practice (pp. 235–246). London: Falmer Press.

Borko, H., Liston, D., & Whitcomb, J. (2007). Genres of empirical research in teacher education. Journal of Teacher Education, 58(1), 3–11.

Hamilton, M. L., & Pinnegar, S. (2010). Attempting to cultivate humanity: Self-study, reflection, and the preparation of teachers. Paper presented as a part of Symposium: The Challenge of Complex Ecologies to Developing as a Reflective Practitioner Within Disciplined-Based Professions: What Challenges, What Differences Can a Discipline Make? Paper presented at the annual AERA conference, Denver.

Bullough, R. V., Jr. (2008). Counternarratives: Studies of teacher education and becoming and being a teacher. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Clandinin, D. J. (1985). Personal practical knowledge: A study of teachers’ classroom images. Curriculum Inquiry, 15, 361–385. Clandinin, D. J. (1993). Still learning to teach. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, Atlanta.

Hamilton, M. L., & Pinnegar, S. (2014). Inter pretation and Gender within the Zone of Inconclusivity. Chapter in Monica Taylor and Leslie Coia (Eds.) Gender, Feminism and Queer Theory in Self-Study of Teacher Education Practices (pp. 45–60). Rotterdam, NL: Sense Publishers.


Mary Lynn Hamilton and Stefinee Pinnegar Ingvarson, L., & Rowe, K. (2008). Conceptualising and evaluating teacher quality: Substantive and methodological issues. Australian Journal of Education, 52(1), 5–35. Koster, B., & Dengerink, J. J. (2008). Professional standards for teacher educators: how to deal with complexity, ownership and function: Experiences from the Netherlands. European Journal of Teacher Education, 31(2), 135–149. LaBoskey, V. K. (2004). The methodology of selfstudy and its theoretical underpinnings. In J. J. Loughran, M. L. Hamilton, V. K. LaBoskey, & T. Russell (Eds.), International handbook of self-study of teaching practices (pp. 817–869). Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Mason, M. (Ed.). (2008). Complexity theory and the philosophy of education. New York: Wiley-Blackwell. Pinnegar, S. (1998). Introduction to Methodology, In M. L. Hamilton (Ed.) Reconceptualizing the education of teachers: Self-study in teacher education. London: Falmer.

Polanyi, M. (1967). The tacit dimension. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd. Polkinghorne, D. (1988). Narrative knowing in the human sciences. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. Putnam, H. (2004). Ontology without ethics. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Schwab, J. (1970). The practical: A language for curriculum. Washington, D.C.: National Education Association (Stock no. 381-11934) and New York: Center for the Study of Instruction the Ford Foundation. Stern, D. (2004). The present moment in psychotherapy and everyday life. New York: W.W. Norton & Company. Wolf, M. (1992). A thrice-told tale: Feminism, postmodernism, and ethnographic responsibility. Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press. Xudong Zhu, & Xue Han. (2006). Reconstruction of the teacher education system in China. International Education Journal, 7(1), 66–73.

Pinnegar, S., & Hamilton, M. L. (2009). Selfstudy of practice as a genre of qualitative research: Theory, methodology, and practice. Dordrecht, Netherlands: Springer.



Mary Lynn Hamilton, Professor in Curriculum & Teaching, University of Kansas, combines research interests in teachers’ professional knowledge, issues of social justice, and the selfstudy of teaching practices. She is a co-editor of The International Handbook of Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices (2004), a co-author of Self-Study of Practice as a Genre of Qualitative Research: Theory, Methodology, and Practice (2009) and the current co-editor of Teaching and Teacher Education, an international journal.

Stefinee Pinnegar,

a teacher educator in the McKay School of Education at Brigham Young University, Provo Utah. Her research interests focus on teachers’ thinking along with ways to reveal that thinking through S-STTEP and narrative methodologies. She co-authored Self-Study of Practice as a Genre of Qualitative Research: Theory, Methodology, and Practice with Mary Lynn Hamilton. She is also the editor of the popular series Advances in Research on Teaching published by Emerald Press. LINK TO: http://www.lehman.edu/academics/education/bronx-arts-education-network/



The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers Katrina Bartow Jacobs, University of Pittsburgh

ABSTRACT Scholarship on field experiences often addresses issues of integration with coursework and the development of students’ pedagogical knowledge, with less focus on their role in the development of teachers’ professional identities. Drawing on data from a yearlong qualitative study, this article addresses a central concern for students in a literacy teacher preparation program—fieldwork as a lonely venture. This research suggests that traditional field experiences explicitly and implicitly perpetuate images of teaching as a solitary act. These findings highlight the need to reconceptualize field experiences as sites of inquiry in order to disrupt narratives of isolation within teacher education.

Introduction “Often field placement feels like, feels like being a visitor in a stranger’s home. I’m learning the context, learning what’s expected, trying to take it all in and participate at the same time. Trying to be a teacher, you know? And I just, I just wish I knew what other people were experiencing too. I feel I could learn a lot from that.” (Ava,1 Interview, October 6, 2012)

F

ield experiences have long been an integral aspect of teacher education, and of professional schooling more broadly. Historically, research and scholarship on the topic of fieldwork has focused on its integration with coursework, with a direct focus on the development of content and pedagogical knowledge (Cochran-Smith & Zeichner, 2005; Darling-Hammond, 2012). While this


Katrina Bartow Jacobs focus has provided the field with a great deal of knowledge regarding the ways that early career teachers come to understand and enact pedagogy, there has been less attention paid to ways that field experiences are structured, as well as the impact of these experiences on teachers’ socialization and understanding of their role within a school community (for notable exceptions, see Moore, 2003; Tiezzi & Cross, 1997; Zeichner, 2010). In the study described in this article, participants routinely addressed the widely varying nature of how field experiences were constructed, enacted, and experienced—both within previous teacher preparation programs they had attended, and at the program they were participating in during the course of this study. The research presented in this article stems from a year-long qualitative study into the impact that field placements had on students in a literacy teacher preparation program. It shows the ways that learning about pedagogical and content knowledge (Segall, 2004; Shulman, 1986) was inextricably linked to experiences of “real life as a teacher” within field experiences, and the complicated ways that these experiences impacted early career teachers’ socialization to the career of a literacy education. The responses of the participants in this study demonstrate the deep impact these frameworks had on the participants’ engagement, reflections, and integration of these experiences into their larger teacher education program, and ultimately into their own developing identities as literacy educators. This article offers an investigation into a central concern for the participants in this study—the sense of fieldwork as a lonely venture. In both their reflections on previous experiences and their narratives around their current placements, participants repeatedly referenced their sense of isolation within fieldwork. Overall, this research suggests that traditional field experiences, even in programs designed to be collaborative and inquiry-based, continue to perpetuate the lesson that teaching is a solitary act. Finally, I suggest that a model for field experiences that explicitly explores the situated and local nature of these placements, as well as positioning them within deliberate and sustained inquiry communities (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 1999, 2009) in teacher preparation programs, can shift how teacher learners experience their classroom-based contexts and move toward a more collaborative and dialogic image of teaching.


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers

Prior Literature: Field Experiences as a Unique Space of Learning The notion that school-based and community-based learning, in the form of field experiences, should occur during teacher preparation programs is so ubiquitous that it has remained almost unquestioned within the literature (Zeichner, 2006, 2010). There is, however, a wide range of what is counted as “field-based learning”—including how these spaces are constructed, the goals of the schools and universities, and the objectives and experiences of the students within the programs. Within the past few decades, there has been a move toward refocusing teacher education, pushing for a more “practice-based” approach for pre-service teacher education (Ball & Cohen, 1999; Ball, Sleep, Boerst, & Bass, 2009; Darling-Hammond, 2006) in which field experience and “real world knowledge” are emphasized throughout and in conjunction with coursework. This shift in focus alters the ways that fieldwork is contributing as a space of learning, as well as the ways that it can, and should be, studied as an integral part of teacher education. Although the increased focus on school-based learning has increased research and policy attention to fieldwork (Darling-Hammond, 2012; Zeichner, Payne, & Brayko, 2012), certain assumptions about the role of these spaces, as well as the ways that relationships and knowledge are conceptualized, have not been addressed as directly. In particular, there remain unspoken assumptions about the connections between the school and university communities, as well as larger issues related to the relationships of theory and practice (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 1999; Zeichner, 2012). These assumptions often highlight the theory/practice divide, where universities are sites for learning theory, whereas schools are seen as places to learn to apply these theories in practice. As such, this framework has limited the ways in which the scope of research on these fieldwork experiences has been conceptualized in relation to teacher education programs. In other words, while many authors have reflected on the ways in which field experiences within a particular course have impacted teachers’ beliefs or understandings about the nature of teaching and education (Cochran-Smith, Barnatt, Friedman, & Pine, 2009; Moore, 2003; Zeichner, 2010), less attention has been paid to how these field experiences have been related to overarching program missions, goals, and mandates. Clift and Brady (2005) offer an analysis of research into field experiences in literacy classrooms: they note that research has paid little attention to the development and role of field experiences as part of the cohesive teacher education programs. This research reflects these concerns, particularly around the ways that some of the unquestioned


Katrina Bartow Jacobs structures of fieldwork implicitly perpetuate certain status quo understandings about the structures of schools and the nature of the profession, such as the concept of teaching as a solitary act, or the image of a teacher as an unquestioned expert, even when these messages are being contradicted in coursework. In addition, while much theoretical and empirical work in teacher education addresses the importance of taking into account the expectations that teacher learners bring with them to teacher education contexts (Carter, 1993; Cochran-Smith, 1995; Grouws & Schultz, 1996; Lee, 2013), this issue has been less directly addressed in research specifically related to field experiences. Students’ expectations include not only the nature of these experiences and their relationship to coursework, but also to the individual’s career goals, previous histories as a student and educator, and their familiarity with the community contexts in which they are placed (Gay, 2010; LadsonBillings, 2001; Milner, 2012; Sleeter, 2001; Zeichner, 2010). All of these issues come into play in the experience of field placements, yet there remain questions regarding the complicated ways in which these experiences frame the development of early career literacy teachers’ professional identities (Moore, 2003; Lasky, 2005).

Conceptual Frameworks As this study explores both the nature of literacy education and the narrative practices of the participants, I situate this work with a sociocultural perspective on literacy that acknowledges the importance of local context in relation to knowledge and meaning-making. Instead of viewing literacy as a set of skills that can travel from context to context without change—what Street refers to as the “autonomous model” of literacy (Street, 1984, 2003)—this article frames literacy as a much more intimate process, one that influences and is influenced by community, history, and audience. This focus also relates to a theoretical understanding of the complex relationship of theory and practice. Building from Cochran-Smith and Lytle’s (1999) concept of “knowledge of practice,” which emphasizes the dialogic nature of theory and practice, this study explores the socialization process of field experiences within the belief that our actions are always more or less guided by conscious ways of understanding and organizing the world. This study is framed by the belief that regardless of specific contexts, people are always guided by their understandings as well as their previous experiences. These theories or “ways of knowing” impact their experiences, identities, and ways of communicating their lives—especially in the work as teachers and teacher educators (Buck & Sylvester, 2013; Cochran-Smith & Zeichner, 2005). 176 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers It is critical, however, to consider not only how people utilize their literacy practices, but also what practices are made available to them, and what practices are valued within various settings. Lewis, Enciso, and Moje (2007) argue that we must reframe sociocultural research on literacy to include a discussion of identity and agency. This work draws on the recent interest in teacher socialization and identity that highlights the complicated development of these attributes, focusing on the ways that they are multiple, discontinuous, and inherently social (Akkerman & Meijer, 2011; see also: Alsup, 2006; Beauchamp & Thomas, 2009; Beijaard, Meijer, & Verloop, 2004; Cochran-Smith, Feiman-Nemser, McIntyre, & Demers, 2008). Taking this stance on literacy, learning, and teacher identity shifts the ways that field experiences might be conceptualized as a space of learning within teacher education. One of the most interesting aspects of fieldwork in this regard is its potential to disrupt the traditionally understood university/school divide. As such, field experiences act as a kind of borderland where students are actively crossing contexts, bringing their own experiences, knowledge, and identities with them as they transition from one space to another, leading often to a series of contact zones (Pratt, 1991). Anzaldúa (1999) discusses the importance of borders that are “set up to…distinguish us from them… A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary. It is in a constant state of transition” (p. 25). This framework highlights the political issues within field placements; a focus on borders offers a more explicit and critical perspective not only on the physical transitions, but also on the issues of power and agency in the development of early career teachers (Giroux, 1992). I conceptualize fieldwork as a borderland space where negotiations can be made more explicit, assumptions can be brought into question, and participants might need to engage in active negotiation of meanings, rather than assume unchallenged definitions. Given this unique location, fieldwork becomes a rich site from which to reflect on how teachers take up concepts from coursework and activities or understandings from the community in relation to their own histories as they make sense of their own positions, the possibilities for pedagogical practices in literacy education, and their careers as literacy educators.

Research Questions This study’s main research question is: How do master’s students in a literacy education program work together to narrate and make sense of fieldwork as a space of learning about teaching? More specifically, this paper addresses the following question:


Katrina Bartow Jacobs 1) How do field experiences impact the development of early career literacy teachers’ professional identities?

Methodology Participants and Context Data for this study came from a year-long qualitative research project centered on an inquiry group that met every two weeks through the September 2012–May 2013 academic year to discuss field experiences. The group consisted of 12 master’s students in a graduate literacy program, many of whom were also working toward their reading specialist certification at a private university located in a large North American city. Group members had a range of teaching experiences, from no formal professional background in education, to some student teaching experience, to up to five years as a classroom teacher. Although I saw myself as an active participant in the group, I also had to acknowledge my own positionality within the larger program. At the time of the study, I was an advanced doctoral student in the same program as the participants. My decision to carry out this research and form this inquiry community stemmed from both my own teacher preparation experiences and from my work as a fieldwork coordinator and instructor within the master’s program. Indeed, nine of the participants were enrolled in the course I taught on literacy assessment during the time of the study. While my central goal for the project was to investigate how these participants made sense of and narrated their field experiences, I also believed that convening an inquiry community of this nature would be an asset to both the individual students and the program as a whole. The literacy master’s program had an explicit focus on issues of social justice, urban education, and sociocultural perspectives on literacy and literacy education.2 Furthermore, the program tried to address collaborative learning and professional development throughout the courses, with a strong focus on teacher research and practitioner inquiry. Shorter field experiences were embedded in many of the core classes and two specific “fieldwork” practicum courses were requirements—one in the fall and one in the spring—where students engaged in a more traditional intensive experience within one K-12 literacy-centered classroom. In these practicum courses, graduate students were placed in either a literacy teacher or a reading specialist and asked to observe and participate in the planning, implementation, and assessment of literacy instruction for individual students, as well as small- and whole-group sessions. As a part of the practicum course, the graduate students also had a weekly seminar


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers where they discussed readings, shared lessons plans, and received information about curriculum design and classroom organization. In addition to the inquiry group meetings, seven people were individually interviewed three times over the course of the 2012-2013 year (October, January, and May) for a total of 21 interview sessions, each lasting between 45 and 60 minutes. These semi-structured interviews offer more of an ongoing and individualized understanding of how field experiences and participation in the inquiry group might have influenced the master’s students’ perceptions of their roles and responsibilities around literacy education.

Data Sources and Analysis Data for this study was drawn from a variety of sources. At each inquiry group session two participants shared a narrative from their respective field placement, which then led into more general dialogue and conversation. During the 13 inquiry group meetings, extensive fieldnotes were taken that focused directly on participants’ talk (Emerson, Fretz, & Shaw, 2011). These fieldnotes highlighted the individual narratives that participants shared, as well as the ways that the group engaged collectively in discussion of the issues that arose from these stories. Each of the 21 interview sessions was audiorecorded and then transcribed verbatim. In addition, written and visual artifacts were collected that either emerged from the group sessions (in the form of emails, notes, and collaboratively constructed charts); were brought by participants from field placements to inquiry group meetings (students’ writing, journals, drawings, etc.); or that were created by participants and shared with me individually (personal journals, emails, etc.). Participants were offered the chance to provide member checks (Marshall & Rossman, 2010), in the form of follow-up discussions and a chance to comment on any written work or presentation drafts that emerged from the study. I coded the data using an inductive approach that aimed to uncover emergent themes (Strauss & Corbin, 1997) with a particular focus on how participants constructed narratives (Clandinin, 2006; Connelly & Clandinin, 1999) about themselves as teachers, their field experiences, and the schools they visited. Data analysis occurred during two phases. The first occurred during data collection (September–May) and involved the development of emergent codes, as well as deliberate attention paid to the a priori codes and questions that I brought with me to the data. For example, while I knew I was interested in issues of socialization and professional identity, it was the stories shared and subsequent group dialogue that led me to codes such as fieldwork as isolating; loneliness of teaching; and fieldwork learning beyond curriculum.


Katrina Bartow Jacobs During the second phase of data analysis, I utilized the constant comparative method (Lincoln & Guba, 1985) as I looked across the data and the 17 codes that had emerged during phase one to explore persistent themes. More specifically, I focused on how the group members and interviewees utilized narrative within group discourse as a way of engaging in these experiences (Clandinin, 2006; Wortham & Gadsden, 2006; Casey, 1995). By focusing on the participants’ “thematic narratives” (Emerson, Fretz, & Shaw, 2011), as well as the “multivoiced nature of teaching and the multisensual nature of teaching and learning” (Clandinin, 2006, p. 375), I gained a deeper understanding of how these narratives represented emergent and developing understandings of literacy education and professional identity through their field experiences.

Findings Overall, the findings from this study demonstrate how both the structure and the focus of field experiences within teacher education implicitly and explicitly perpetuated the message that teaching is an isolated act. While this sense of isolation has been noted in earlier research on teacher education (Britzman, 1991; Hoy, 2008), this study specifically explores how these issues are embedded within field placements as a space of professional learning. Field experiences impacted teachers’ socialization and created a sense of isolation in two different, but related, ways: 1) the perception of field placements as a “proving ground” of one’s professional abilities, particularly in relation to certification; and 2) the ways in which the field placement course only directly addressed certain aspects of their school-based experiences. In particular, those aspects directly related to content instruction and classroom management, which left participants uncertain of how to make sense of other narratives from their time in schools.

Field Experiences as a Solitary “Proving Ground” Field placements and practicum courses are often conceptualized in teacher education as a place of collaboration and community (Cohen, Hoz, & Kaplan, 2013; Zeichner, Ball, & Tyson, 2011). Yet, within the early inquiry group sessions, it quickly became clear few participants felt this way. In fact, in our very first meeting, the teacher learners identified the deep sense of isolation that permeated many of their field experiences:


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers Emily: [My undergrad fieldwork] and first year of teaching were much the same. You’re by yourself. Just supposed to know what to do. It’s just overwhelming and exhausting. It’s just so easy in those moments to get away from the aspirations. I got caught up in the day-to-day stuff. I thought it would be better once I was the teacher, but both times I felt isolated, alone, and overwhelmed. So many friends who went through it with me – we all had these feelings. … I feel like, you’re just tossed in the way we do teacher education. Like, we taught you this in classes. Go show me you can do it yourself. Lila: I agree. Alone is a word that comes up a lot in fieldwork, especially here. I feel like I go into the classroom where I am supposed to help teaching reading, writing, literacy – but that’s my weak point. The teacher assumes I have knowledge because I’m a master’s student. But I don’t feel I have it. (Fieldnotes, Inquiry Group Meeting 1) In these early moments together, the participants were already describing a sense of vulnerability in their field experiences. Often the participants did not know who to turn to when they were uneasy or uncertain, or felt that they were expected to be able to address these issues alone. In many ways, this sense of isolation highlights some of the anxieties described in the above sections: the sense that fieldwork is the proving ground that one has “made it” as a teacher, or the concern that somehow fieldwork experiences fall both outside of the school and university culture, leaving teacher learners to find their own paths through the experience. This loneliness seemed to relate both to the fact that they were not only physically separate from their peers in these spaces—navigating these day-to-day interactions and relationships very much by themselves—but also that they felt responsible to be experts by the time they entered schools. This anxiety speaks to the issues with framing fieldwork, especially student teaching or practicum work, as the “proving ground” of capability and knowledge. In her seminal work Practice Makes Practice (1991, 2005), Deborah Britzman refers to this side of teaching as the “myth of the lone individual”: An identity that bestows valor on the lonely process of becoming a teacher, but at the same time suppresses the social meanings and forces that beckon the subject as a lone individual. While individual effort is, of course, a necessary condition in learning to teach, so too are social negotiations, interactions, and social dependence. Yet the normative discourse of teacher education masks such complexity both by positioning the process of learning to teach as “sink or swim” and stigmatizing negotiation. (p. 235)


Katrina Bartow Jacobs Britzman’s work highlights the ways this emphasis on individuality reinforces the ways that education and teaching are currently structured: because teachers are explicitly and implicitly told that they are on their own, they fall back on the expectations that are most clearly laid out by mentor teachers, university supervisors, or on their own memories and histories as students themselves. While Britzman’s work is not new to the field of teacher education, it is apparent that many of the myths she highlights remain true for today’s early career teachers. For example, Emily, the most seasoned teacher in the group with five years’ teaching experience, shared at this first meeting: When I was in undergrad, doing my student teaching, I knew I hated school the way it had been done. I swore I wouldn’t do it that way. But then there was so much pressure. I had to get my certification, and I thought that’s what they were looking for. So that’s what I did. And here, learning to be a reading specialist, I’m doing again. I’m watching myself doing it again. Savannah: Yes. Me too. I mean, I don’t have your experience, but I know the feeling. It’s like becoming your parent, or something. But then in the classroom it’s just me and I don’t know what else to do. (Fieldnotes, Inquiry Group Meeting 1) Bullock (2011) describes how these myths and pressures perpetuate throughout teacher education programs, deeply coloring the ways that teacher learners conceptualize and approach the act of becoming a teacher. Field placements, both because they are situated within the daily world of schools and their connection to certification, are possible sites of disruption or of maintaining the status quo of education. These data show that these learning spaces, as they are often structured within teacher preparation programs, can subtly but forcefully maintain the sense that teachers must go it alone, without questions, doubt, or community. Participants came to their practicum with a deep appreciation for these issues, as well as the ways that they are particularly salient within their lived experiences of fieldwork in schools. They frequently articulated in powerful ways how this sense of isolation followed them into their field sites and deeply impacted how they imagined their own work as teachers. In one of our later meetings, after sharing a story about a lesson that did not go as planned, Abby was asked by the group who she went to for feedback. She replied: It’s funny, because I’m the only one there. I mean, I guess the teacher and my mentor are there too, but really – it’s just me when it comes to putting it all together. And we 182 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers [participants in the graduate literacy program] talk, but just venting – not like, professional support. It frustrates me a lot. I wish it were easier. But it also means I have agency, and I like that. … Maybe it’s good to have trial by fire. Maybe I should appreciate more the chance to create the space for myself, to take up my own inquiry. But I don’t know. Right now it feels like I’m alone and to sink or swim and nobody will notice unless I’ve already drowned. (Field Notes, Inquiry Group Meeting 7) Even in a program that explicitly values collaboration and dialogic approaches to knowledge production, the underlying structures of the field placements continue to implicitly enforce the idea that teaching is a solitary act. Furthermore, as field placements are seen—and act in reality—as the final hurdle before certifications, understandably teacher learners come to these spaces with heightened anxiety and concern about how they are perceived, at times leading them to ask for less guidance and support.

Field Experiences in the “Second Classroom”: Professional Learning in the Margins Frequently, this concept of loneliness was not only about being the only university student in a particular school, but went much more deeply into the professional lessons the students were learning and observing during their field placements. Often, these issues came up not in discussion of particular lessons, but instead in relation to the conversations with mentor teachers. Savannah described that after finishing student teaching and starting as a teacher in her own classroom, she had learned to “stay in her bubble and do what she was doing” (Field notes, Inquiry Group 4). Veronica went so far as to share the following conversation from her undergraduate experience: My cooperating teacher – with her, I learn how to stay out of the halls. She told me not to go to the teacher lounge, or they would find me. I didn’t even know who ‘they’ were, but I definitely stayed in my classroom after that, and kept it that way when I was teaching myself. (Interview, January 15, 2013) Here, the participants described fieldwork as lonely not only in terms of their day-today experiences of going to schools by themselves, seeking places to describe these experiences with peers and university educators, but also the deep impact that these impressions or framings had on their future careers. Furthermore, participants often referenced experiences and narratives that lay outside of the part of the school day directly involved with instruction—as well as the fact that these moments were never directly addressed in their teacher preparation programs:


Katrina Bartow Jacobs Mark: The teacher I was with last semester for fieldwork, he talked about a meeting with a superintendent. He didn’t listen to them, didn’t answer any questions. Now, Northeast High is one of the schools scheduled to be closed.3 Max: See, this is why, I think in teacher education we should be educating in educational politics. Issues so classroom based, but we don’t go up the pipeline on how that works. Fieldwork lets you see some of that stuff too. Abby: Right. It shows you the professional inner workings on being a teacher. When I was doing my internship, teachers were working without a contract. I couldn’t go to meetings, but I would hear teachers talking about issues. I had never heard about them before, never considered them. I knew nothing about unions, about being a part of teacher union. We take education policy classes, but it’s all history. Not current politics behind it all. Max: That’s why I like hanging out with teachers at fieldwork, between classes – not just about how to teach, but also how to manage yourself in school. Not always in the best interest of you as a teacher, or you as a school. Even not always in best interests of your students, but sometimes in the best interests of keeping your job. (Fieldnotes, Inquiry Group Meeting 8) These moments show that beyond the expected lessons around curriculum, classroom management, and pedagogical decision-making, fieldwork is also the space of learning about the ethos of teaching, schooling, and learning. The students frequently talked about the power of seeing not just classroom practice, but also school practices and culture as inextricably linked to lesson plans and classroom management. In describing the spaces for students and teachers to engage in the deeply personal, political, and historical work of literacy learning and practice, scholars have conceptualized the classroom as functioning along multiple levels (Campano, 2007, Gutiérrez, 2008). Campano (2007) refers to this space for more personal and localized learning as the “second classroom”, a space “that occurs during the margins and in between periods of the school day… The second classroom runs parallel to, and is sometimes in the shadow of, the official first classroom. It is an alternative pedagogical space” (pp. 39–40). During their fieldwork hours, teacher learners do not simply experience the curriculum and pedagogical practices that make up the instructional hours frequently thought of as “teacher’s work,” but also visit and participate in these marginalized spaces as well. Closely related to the concept of the “third space” within schools (Gutiérrez, 2008; Moje et al., 2004), these experiences also have lasting impacts on the participants’ identities and perspectives as teachers, often highlighting topics and issues that are rarely, if ever, addressed in the “first classroom” focus of teacher 184 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers education programs. While the framework of the “third space” has become more popular in recent scholarship in K-12 settings, this finding demonstrates the importance of thinking about teacher education and field experiences from this more situated and localized perspective, in order to better prepare teachers to engage students holistically and to draw more broadly on a richer and more nuanced perspective of literacy education and learning. This framework makes inquiry and uncertainty a facet of their professional identity, rather than a weakness to be avoided. Beyond content area knowledge, pedagogical practices, and classroom management strategies, a critical but under-researched area of fieldwork occurs during these “off times,” when teachers talk in halls or in staff lounges. These moments make up a “second classroom” within field placements; frequently, it is during these conversations that deep issues of power, professionalism, and teacher identity were addressed most explicitly during the participants’ field placements. Yet, these spaces go largely unrecognized by the official focus on fieldwork in the university, often adding to the sense of isolation that the participants described above as they struggled individually to bridge these experiences and make sense of their fieldwork as a space of professional learning. As previously shared by Veronica, often these experiences are puzzling, overwhelming, or downright terrifying to early career teachers or teacher learners. Without the space to discuss these moments within teacher preparation programs, teacher learners lack the community to engage in collaborative inquiry around these issues, rendering them taboo or unspoken within their preparation as literacy educators. In addition to addressing the importance of these spaces as an element of fieldwork, the inquiry group also addressed how loneliness, isolation, and politics follow teachers into their classrooms after graduation. In particular, participants frequently worried about how and where they could gain support once they were in their own classrooms: Savannah: You know, it’s so sad when we get students who we think are behind. We think it’s so sad and they are not getting support at home. We blame the kids; we blame the families. But since being in fieldwork this semester, I’ve changed my perspective a little bit. …The teachers – they are just so down. I know teachers aren’t solely to blame, but I’ve had a change of heart. What happened to them? Max:

I agree, but I also think, no man’s an island. No teacher’s an island. I mean, they operate in schools, in communities. (Fieldnotes, Inquiry Group Meeting 6)


Katrina Bartow Jacobs Emily:

A lot happens your first year [teaching] and you don’t know what to do, or how to read it. But you’re afraid if you ask people they will be catty, or make fun of you. But you need answers. And if you hear enough of that — that you’re not doing it right but you don’t know who to ask — it can weigh on you. It can burn you out.

Genevieve: At my school, where I taught last year, there were fifteen classrooms. Before they started a mentoring program six teachers left. That was by midyear. It was better when we made official time to talk things through. (Fieldnotes, Inquiry Group Meeting 10) In these moments, the participants share their deep awareness, and apprehension, of the “lone individual” ethos that Britzman (1991) describes. They are highly aware of the politicized nature of teaching, the ramifications of asking for support, and the high rate of “burnout” for teachers, particularly those who work in under-resourced schools. In many ways, the participants viewed fieldwork as a space where one could learn about these issues and gain support before being the teacher of record in a classroom. Yet, just as frequently they described concerns bringing those issues back to the university— often referencing how the assignments for the fieldwork course focused more on specific lesson plans or assignments, rather than on these less structured spaces within school settings. These findings highlight some of the ways that unquestioned or takenfor-granted aspects of field experiences and how they are structured within teacher education need to be reexamined and, where possible, restructured to foster in teacher learners a more collaborative and inquiry-based understanding of learning to teach.

Reframing Field Experiences as Collaborative Inquiry Throughout our work together as an inquiry group, and in individual interviews, participants often shared stories about feeling isolated during their field experiences, with a sense that their experiences were unique and at times fragmented, especially in relation to the university courses. Often, this sense of loneliness or isolation was compounded by the framing of fieldwork as a final space to prove one’s knowledge and preparation before becoming a teacher. Participants also described the ways that narrating their particular context and discussing it with others help alleviate some of these concerns, as well as their desire to find spaces to have ongoing conversations not just about instructional time, but also about discussions with teachers and experiences in the hallways and teacher lounges.


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers These findings suggest that in many ways the idiosyncratic nature of fieldwork reflects the inherently messy, relational, and locally contextualized nature of teaching. Rather than frame these aspects of fieldwork as challenges to be overcome, these moments represent inherent facets of teaching that need to be discussed and considered during teacher education programs. Indeed, when given the opportunity to discuss these experiences with their peers, participants were able to both express a critical perspective on their own understandings of literacy, urban education, and their own development as educators while also questioning and probing each other’s sense-making and perspectives. In addition, creating the space to collaboratively discuss these moments helped alleviate some of the loneliness and anxiety that they faced in their field experiences. As Mark shared in our final interview, “I knew—I mean, I knew I was never going to learn it all in fieldwork, even if I felt like I should. But talking about that—asking those questions and getting those head nods—that made me okay with that” (Interview, May 26, 2013). These findings demonstrate that in addition to teaching students how to approach methods and pedagogical knowledge within their teacher preparation, field experiences can also function as a space to help students contextualize that work within their school-based experiences and in terms of their own development as teachers. Engaging in conversations about the nature of learning in fieldwork provided students with an opportunity to develop a greater appreciation for the ways in which these experiences and narratives influenced their own work and perspectives as educators. Yet, this study also shows that identity work does not take place in isolation. The program that this inquiry group was situated within—and the structure of the inquiry community itself—attempted to complicate the hierarchies of expert and novice by engaging students with a range of teaching experiences and backgrounds in a collective dialogic space around issues related to field experience. One of the goals of the study was for this group to work together to explore teaching and teacher education through an “inquiry stance” (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 1999, 2009) which encourages teachers to see themselves as researchers of their own practice, questioning their assumptions and constructing knowledge of their own contexts. Within the structure of field placements, this inquiry framework can provide a: Richer conception of knowledge than that allowed by the formal knowledgepractical knowledge distinction, an expanded conception of practice as both practical and theoretical, and a fuller conception of teacher learning across the professional life span than that implied by the expert/novice distinction. (CochranSmith & Lytle, 1999, p. 19)


Katrina Bartow Jacobs Building on this understanding of knowledge and practice, this study was designed not only to better understand how field placements impacted the participants’ sense of the literacy classroom, but also to construct a space where we could engage together around how field experiences—in conjunction with our own histories and other work— were impacting perceptions of both what it means to be a teacher education student, and on how we all were constructing and reconstructing our images and identities as teachers. These findings emphasize the importance of developing spaces that foster sustained, dialogic, and critical conversation among teacher learners. This kind of dialogue is particularly important in reference to fieldwork, a highly contested, complicated, and sometimes isolating space of learning. While field placements and practicum courses certainly can—and should—emphasize the importance of content and pedagogical knowledge, they also need to acknowledge the other types of professional learning that occurs within these spaces, thinking how these experiences impact early career teachers’ socialization and professional identity development. In order to shift the status quo and disrupt the narrative of the teacher as “lone intellectual” (Britzman, 1991), teacher preparation programs can try to construct field experiences as collaborative inquiry—utilizing the development of “communities of practice” (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 1999) within teacher education—to help shift how literacy educators see the scope of their work and the role of community and collaboration within their own professional growth.

Notes 1. All names of people and places in this paper are pseudonyms. 2. These issues are explicitly highlighted on the program’s website, as well as addressed in the title of many of the core courses that students are required to take toward their master’s degree. 3. At the time of this study, the urban school district where most of the participants were in field placements was undergoing a serious budget crisis, leading to severe cutbacks and the scheduled closing of over 30 schools at the end of the year.


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers

References Akkerman, S. F., & Meijer, P. C. (2011). A dialogical approach to conceptualizing teacher identity. Teaching and Teacher Education, 27(2), 308–319. Alsup, J. (2006). Teacher identity discourses: Negotiating personal and professional spaces. Routledge. Anzaldúa, G. (1999). Borderlands: The New Mestiza / La Frontera (2nd ed.). San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books. Ball, D., & Cohen, D. (1999). Toward a practicebased theory of professional education: Teaching as the learning profession. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Ball, D. L., Sleep, L., Boerst, T. A., & Bass, H. (2009). Combining the development of practice and the practice of development in Teacher Education. The Elementary School Journal, 109(5), 458–474.

New York: Teachers College Press. Carter, K. (1993). The place of story in the study of teaching and teacher education. Educational Researcher, 22(1), 5–18. Casey, K. (1995). The new narrative research in education. Review of Research in Education, 211–253. Clandinin, D. J. (Ed.). (2006). Handbook of narrative inquiry: Mapping a methodology. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. Clift, R. T., & Brady, P. (2005). Research on methods courses and field experiences. Studying Teacher Education: The Report of the AERA Panel on Research and Teacher Education, 309–424. Cochran-Smith, M. (1995). Uncertain allies: Understanding the boundaries of race and teaching. Harvard Educational Review, 65(4), 541–571.

Beauchamp, C., & Thomas, L. (2009). Understanding teacher identity: An overview of issues in the literature and implications for teacher education. Cambridge Journal of Education, 39(2), 175–189.

Cochran-Smith, M., Barnatt, J., Friedman, A., & Pine, G. (2009). Inquiry on inquiry: Practitioner research and student learning. Action in Teacher Education, 31(2), 17–32.

Beijaard, D., Meijer, P. C., & Verloop, N. (2004). Reconsidering research on teachers’ professional identity. Teaching and Teacher Education, 20(2), 107–128.

Cochran-Smith, M., Feiman-Nemser, S., McIntyre, D. J., & Demers, K. E. (2008). Handbook of research on teacher education: Enduring questions in changing contexts. New York: Routledge.

Britzman, D. P. (1991). Practice makes practice: A critical study of learning to teach. SUNY Press. Britzman, D. P. (2005). Practice makes practice: A critical study of learning to teach, 2nd edition. SUNY Press. Buck, P., & Sylvester, P. S. (2013). Coupling funds of knowledge research and critical pedagogy in teacher education. In N. González, L. C. Moll, & C. Amanti (Eds.), Funds of knowledge: Theorizing Practices in Households, Communities, and Classrooms (pp. 213–232). New York: Routledge. Bullock, S. M. (2011). Becoming a Teacher. In Inside Teacher Education (pp. 1–10). Springer.

Cochran-Smith, M., & Lytle, S. L. (1999). Relationships of knowledge and practice: Teacher learning in communities. Review of Research in Education, 249–305. Cochran-Smith, M., & Lytle, S. L. (2009). Inquiry as stance: Practitioner research for the next generation. New York: Teachers College Press. Cochran-Smith, M., & Zeichner, K. M. (2005). Studying teacher education: The report of the AERA panel on research and teacher education. New York: Routledge for AERA. Cohen, E., Hoz, R., & Kaplan, H. (2013). The practicum in preservice teacher education: a review of empirical studies. Teaching Education, 24(4), 345–380.

Campano, G. (2007). Immigrant students and literacy: reading, writing, and remembering.


Katrina Bartow Jacobs Connelly, F. M., & Clandinin, D. J. (1999). Shaping a professional identity: Stories of educational practice. New York: Teachers College Press.

Marshall, C., & Rossman, G. B. (2010). Designing qualitative research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Darling-Hammond, L. (2006). Constructing 21st-century teacher education. Journal of Teacher Education, 57(3), 300–314.

Milner, H. R. (2012). Challenges in teacher education for urban education. Urban Education, 47(4), 700–705.

Darling-Hammond, L. (2012). Powerful teacher education: Lessons from exemplary programs. New York: John Wiley & Sons.

Moje, E. B., Ciechanowski, K. M., Kramer, K., Ellis, L., Carrillo, R., & Collazo, T. (2004). Working toward third space in content area literacy: An examination of everyday funds of knowledge and discourse. Reading Research Quarterly, 39(1), 38–70.

Emerson, R. M., Fretz, R. I., & Shaw, L. L. (2011). Writing ethnographic fieldnotes. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Gay, G. (2010). Acting on beliefs in teacher education for cultural diversity. Journal of Teacher Education, 61(1-2), 143–152. Giroux, H. A. (1992). Border crossings: Cultural workers and the politics of education. New York: Routledge. Grouws, D. A., & Schultz, K. A. (1996). Mathematics teacher education. Handbook of Research on Teacher Education, 2, 442–458. Gutiérrez, K. D. (2008). Developing a sociocritical literacy in the third space. Reading Research Quarterly, 43(2), 148–164. Hoy, A. W. (2008). What motivates teachers? Important work on a complex question. Learning and Instruction, 18(5), 492–498. Ladson-Billings, G. (2001). Crossing over to Canaan: The journey of new teachers in diverse classrooms. New York: The Jossey-Bass Education Series. Lasky, S. (2005). A sociocultural approach to understanding teacher identity, agency and professional vulnerability in a context of secondary school reform. Teaching and Teacher Education, 21(8), 899–916. Lee, D. K. (2013). Teacher education for democracy and social justice. New York: Routledge. Lewis, C., Enciso, P., & Moje, E. B. (2007). Reframing sociocultural research on literacy: Identity, agency, and power. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Lincoln, Y. S., & Guba, E. G. (1985). Naturalistic inquiry. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Moore, R. (2003). Reexamining the field experiences of preservice teachers. Journal of Teacher Education, 54(1), 31–42. Pratt, M. L. (1991). Arts of the contact zone. Profession, 33–40. Segall, A. (2004). Revisiting pedagogical content knowledge: The pedagogy of content/the content of pedagogy. Teaching and Teacher Education, 20(5), 489–504. Shulman, L. S. (1986). Those who understand: Knowledge growth in teaching. Educational Researcher, 4–14. Sleeter, C. E. (2001). Preparing teachers for culturally diverse schools: Research and the overwhelming presence of whiteness. Journal of Teacher Education, 52(2), 94. Strauss, A., & Corbin, J. M. (1997). Grounded theory in practice. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Street, B. (2003). What’s “new” in New Literacy Studies? Critical approaches to literacy in theory and practice. Current Issues in Comparative Education, 5(2), 77–91. Street, B. V. (1984). Literacy in theory and practice (Vol. 9). Cambridge University Press. Tiezzi, L. J., & Cross, B. E. (1997). Utilizing research on prospective teachers’ beliefs to inform urban field experiences. The Urban Review, 29(2), 113–125. Wortham, S., & Gadsden, V. (2006). Urban fathers positioning themselves through narrative: An approach to narrative self-construction. GSE Publications, 78. Zeichner, K. (2006). Reflections of a universitybased teacher educator on the future of college-and university-based teacher


The Role of Field Experiences in the Professional Socialization of Early Career Literacy Teachers education. Journal of Teacher Education, 57(3), 326–340. Zeichner, K. (2010). Rethinking the connections between campus courses and field experiences in college- and university-based teacher education. Journal of Teacher Education, 61(1-2), 89–99. Zeichner, K. (2012). The turn once again toward practice-based teacher education. Journal of Teacher Education, 63(5), 376–382.

Zeichner, K., Ball, A. F., & Tyson, C. A. (2011). Embracing complexity and community in research on multicultural teacher education. Studying Diversity in Teacher Education, 329–337. Zeichner, K., Payne, K., & Brayko, K. (2012). Democratizing knowledge in university teacher education through practice-based methods teaching and mediated field experience in schools and communities. Harvard Educational Review.

Katrina Bartow Jacobs

is currently a Visiting Assistant Professor at the University of Pittsburgh in the Department of Instruction and Learning. She earned her Ph.D. at the University of Pennsylvania in Reading/Writing/Literacy. She was formerly an elementary school teacher, teaching first and fourth grades. Her research interests focus on teacher education and literacy education, with an emphasis on teacher identity, the role of inquiry in teacher education, and issues of social justice and equity within urban schooling.

LINK TO: http://www.education.pitt.edu/people/profile.aspx?f=KatharineEJacobs



To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road The Narrative Inquiry Group

ABSTRACT This article describes the journey of The Narrative Inquiry Group, a community of high school educators engaged in embedded, self-directed professional development. Our approaches include professional conversation, narrative inquiry, and literary métissage, and our results consist of productions representative of our selves, learning, and practices. We would suggest that our inquiries map the path of individual and collective experience, and illustrate the value of being self-critical within the safety of a learning community. In addition, we hope to inform others’ research and practice, and those with an interest in teacher education, of the importance of understanding the experience of educators engaging in inquiry. From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also. Suddenly, Uncle Henry stood up. “There’s a cyclone coming, Em,” he called to his wife. – L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1939, p. 2)

M

ore than a decade ago, the low wail of the wind foretold changes to our schools (Naylor, O’Neill, & Rojem, n.d.), schools that are typically busy and extremely complex communities. And, they are not without problems. We have faced political, social, and professional shifts; reinvented policies and working conditions; reconceptualized pedagogies, and demands for best practice (Kamanzi, Riopel, & Lessard, 2007). Curriculum content, delivery, evaluation, and reporting have changed. We work harder for longer hours, greet complex student groups, learn


The Narrative Inquiry Group and teach evolving technologies, and do more administrative work and paperwork. Learners arrive with advanced knowledge of technologies, and represent a mosaic of languages, ethnicities, and cultures; of learning abilities, needs, gifts and talents; of problems of motivation, apathy, bullying, absenteeism, and family issues. Challenges, as do storm clouds, evolve and gather momentum, yet planned time for self-directed, long-term professional development and collaboration is as scarce as a rain cloud once was in Uncle Henry’s Kansas sky. Like Dorothy, in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, each of us has experienced cyclonic conditions in our schools at one time or another. The strain of balancing work and life beyond, leaves us feeling as though tossed out of a wind tunnel—wide-eyed, breathless, bruised, sometimes lost. However, in our work we face our problems head-on, and our inquiries sustain our problem-solving endeavours. We support each other’s selfdirected initiatives, participating in voluntary, embedded professional development. Within The Narrative Inquiry Group, there exists a strong sense of professional purpose, and we have chosen to skip quick fixes, opting rather to invest in the long term. Our conversations focus on a variety of issues, problems, and possible solutions through a range of inquiry processes. Guidelines for these are found under the umbrella of action research (Holly, Arhar, & Kasten, 2001), and within the professional conversation (Rust, 2002), narrative inquiry (Clandinin, & Connelly, 2000), and literary métissage (Hasebe-Ludt, Chambers, & Leggo, 2009, Chambers, Hasebe-Ludt, Leggo, & Sinner, 2012) perspectives. In this paper we will discuss some of the outcomes of one phase of our research, The Blackboard Monologues, which may provide evidence of our learning from experience. What follows is a descriptive overview of our work.

Fig. 1: Métissage: The blackboard monologues

Press here for performance 194 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road

Our Learning in a Broader Context: We Are Not in Kansas Anymore The function of reflective thought is … to transform a situation in which there is experienced obscurity, doubt, conflict, disturbance of some sort into a situation that is clear, coherent, settled, harmonious. – John Dewey, How We Think: A Restatement of Reflective Thinking to the Educative Process, 1933, p. 100 Our individual interests in stories of teaching and learning bring us together and we have enjoyed the benefit of professional conversation for a number of years now. Professional conversation (Rust, 2002) provides us with a forum for the communication of experience, insight, and knowledge. As well, it has provided us with a point of departure for collective research. Professional conversation may be defined as: An approach to professional learning and quality improvement which values the practical knowledge and wisdom of professionals … (who) engage in a constructive dialogue on a topic of shared interest and importance … The process is reliant on providing participants with sufficient time and space to critically reflect, to form and share views and experiences, and to move from surface knowledge to deeper knowledge and understanding. (Irvine & Collie, 2011, p. 4) Inquiries emerging from our conversations adhere to the narrative tradition as understood by Clandinin and Connelly (2000). “(N)arrative inquiry is a way of understanding experience … over time, in a place or series of places, and in social interaction with milieus … narrative inquiry is stories lived and told” (p. 20). We use stories to make sense of and communicate experience, to challenge assumptions, to guide future actions. Our practices foster reflection, which in turn frames a story, and the story will then inform practice (Duff, 2002). Our various texts embody us and our emerging identities. We attend to them, make sense of them (Elza, 2011). Carl Leggo (2010) offers the following: “We know ourselves only in images, written in words and light. My sense of who I am in the world is an effect of language, a sense of presence, a representation, seemingly whole, but always fragmentary” (p. 48). In our work, we are coming to know ourselves as artifacts of practice unearthed in our narratives. However, literary métissage (Hasebe-Ludt et al., 2009) takes us beyond individual reflective, autobiographical pieces, to the possibility of transforming not just our writing, but our selves and our community as well. Literary métissage is a form of life writing that explores and exposes the:


The Narrative Inquiry Group Counter-narrative to the grand narratives of our times … (provides) a site for writing and surviving in the interval between different cultures and language … It is a way of merging and blurring genres, texts and identities … Métissage requires researchers to craft pieces of autobiographical writing in which they research and teach themselves. Texts are selected and braided … using themes which evolved organically. (p. 9) Fragments of our individual lives are questioned, interpreted, shared, and connected. The resulting braid may appear ambiguous or familiar, as the audience is drawn into the weave (Sinner, 2010), and ought to promote understanding and empathy (Simpkins 2012). In our work, we take theories of professional conversation, narrative inquiry, and literary métissage as an ensemble, and an epistemological tool for use in our explorations and explanations of our lives as educators. Beyond that, we believe that a theory of perspective transformation is useful in understanding the learning represented in our narratives of critical self-reflection. The transformative nature of adult learning has been widely investigated, and Jack Mezirow (2000) provides a framework for understanding our professional development. Mezirow (1991b) defines learning as a process of transformation “using a prior interpretation to construe a new or a revised interpretation of the meaning of one’s experience in order to guide future action” (p. 12). Learning is the consequence of critical reflection and involves experiencing disorientation, the examination of assumptions, planning and enacting change, searching for meaning and peace, self-acceptance, and reintegration and adjustment to a new perspective (Mezirow, 1991a).

Mapping Progress: Our Journey to Oz Walk on your own yellow brick road. If you can’t find one, spray paint your way into happiness. If that doesn’t work, buy yellow shoes. – Sadiqua Hamdan, Happy am I. Holy am I. Healthy am I., 2013, p. 4 Within The Narrative Inquiry Group our task—and our pleasure—is to engage with each other in discourse on topics that range from here to Oz and back. And, we learn as we go. We have situated our work in the gap between the professional and the personal, (Hubbard et al., 2013), and between theory and practice (Jager et al., 2014). The process of choosing topics and direction for the group has been spontaneous. When someone puts forward an idea for a narrative, we discuss it, tweak and move forward with it. 196 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road Such was the case with The Blackboard Monologues. Denise, a member of the group, shared her reflections on how her perspective on teaching and learning had shifted as a consequence of being on maternity leave. Kristen, likewise a member, suggested exploring monologue (Ensler, 2001) as a method of narrative inquiry. Together, we decided to develop monologues on our individual perspectives, while striving to create shared understandings of ourselves, and our thoughts on teaching and learning. “(M)étissage requires researchers to craft pieces of autobiographical writing in which they research and teach themselves. The texts are selected and braided in such a way as to highlight both points of affinity and dissonance” (Hasebe-Ludt et al., 2009, p. 9). Our monologues on the theme of perspective were, first, analyzed for common thematic strands. Once these were identified, the individual monologues were then braided into a collective piece through consensus and conversation. What follows are introductions to some of the authors and excerpts from their contributions to the project.

Norma Hubbard Norma teaches English and the International Baccalaureate Personal Project at Heritage Regional High School (HRHS), and holds a BEd from McGill University. Getting my hands dirty. There are weeds in my garden—hidden among the more desirable plants. If I stand back and look at all my gardens, it seems like a daunting task to control. There is so much to do and so little time to do it in. My classroom seems like this in the fall. If I look at all my students, the sheer number of them overwhelms me. Who are all of these children? Where do I start? … I look around and there are dragonflies and butterflies within my garden. I love the dragonflies, they are curious and dart everywhere, only occasionally resting—dragonflies are my ADD students, my artists and dreamers. They keep me alert. The butterflies, especially the beautiful swallowtails, seem to float over the flowers, only coming to me if I remain still. These are those amazing students whom I learn so much from and yet they often credit me with teaching them—when all I did was provide the space for them to fly.

Amanda Jager Amanda teaches English Language Arts at Chambly Academy. She holds a BEd and MA from McGill University.


The Narrative Inquiry Group Ring. … Teachers and students alike—we glance at our watches, we roll through that stop sign, we gulp down that last glug of coffee, we lateral pass our Timmy’s cup into the trash can better than any pro-football player ever could. Whether there’s a full mug of sharpened pencils on our desk or a messy stack of half-graded essays sticking out of our bag, we’re all watching for the same sound—calling us to teach… We collaborate in theory… But what about today?… Work with me, for them. Because it is a messy job, a jigsaw puzzle missing piece after piece after piece. Falling through the cracks, lost in supply closets, burned out and retired and first year and new to the school and “how many more years?” and “I have some resources for that” and “how was your group today?” and “one time I” and “you must be tired” and “what do you think I should” and “thanks for your help” and “I don’t know why I am crying!” and “I really shouldn’t be laughing at this but . . .”

Martin Labrie Martin teaches visual and performing arts at HRHS. He holds a Bachelor of Dance Education Degree from Université du Québec à Montréal. My purple day. Today would not be a day like any other. Today would be my Purple Day, a day I will remember for the rest of my life, a day that would change my life and my students’ lives too—at least some of them … “Mister Labrie, how come you’re not wearing purple today? I thought you would be supportive” … And Allysson told me that Purple Day was for the kids who killed themselves because of homophobia …Allyson did not know that she opened the door—the door of my classroom to the school, and the rest of the world. Later that day, as I am in my first year in high school after 14 years in elementary, I was to have an evaluation with the VP in charge of the Arts, Ms. McCarthy. I told her that I would like to make my coming out, to tell my students that I am gay, because I want to be honest with them. And she told me the administration would be very happy and supportive if I were to do this as a role model … I saw my Secondary V students, my 504s, my art option class entering the room, dressed in purple … No way! Half of them, maybe more. So, I told them to follow me to the Art Depot, a small room with a large square table in the center. It looked like a walk-in closet, and I would walk out in a minute. I told them, “I am a gay teacher!”


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road

Laurie MacLeod Laurie is a retired English teacher from Saint Johns High School in Saint Jean, Quebec, and holds a BEd from the University of New Brunswick and a Graduate Certificate in Special Education from McGill University. Finding the light. The child’s soul grows With egg-shell domes and Cotton-ball snow as she Imagines how people Live in the northern cold – And the light peeks through The kitchen window nudging Her mind, to wander further . . . The light shines around her When learning is valued . . . The teacher’s soul Sees this and, Now fully awake, Turns to her first love – Her passion for learning . . . My heart will be lighter If just one child Is nudged out of the darkness, And chooses the warmth, Learns of the secrets, The strength of his mind. Learns if he chooses, His passions, his sorrows, That he is his own master, That he has the power To light up this world . . . Or live in the dark.

Diane Mallet Diane is a special education attendant at HRHS, and a Special Education TeacherAssistant graduate of MacEwan College in Edmonton, Alberta.


The Narrative Inquiry Group Four perspectives on cracks. I Am a good example of how things changed. I fell through the cracks… I wanted to be invisible. I hated and feared being called upon during reading and spelling. Boy! I have come a long way. . . I found the Illiteracy Connection. It took a year before I was reading. I felt empowered and books became my new best friend … I enrolled in the Special Education Teacher-Assistant Program. I excelled, and helping special needs children became my passion … The only way I know how to help those with learning disabilities is to offer encouragement, support, and a never-give-up attitude. I remember what it was like for me. If I had had the support I give the students I work with, I could have accomplished more … I have a dream that no student will fall through the cracks.

Judith McBride Judy is a retired teacher with a PhD in Educational Psychology from McGill University. She volunteers as research coordinator at HRHS. The hermit crab. A hermit crab sidles up to me, wanting to share my shade. I sit under a palapa, on a beach, in Mexico, mid-winter. I can be here now, I have retired. Once, though, I was the Hermit Crab . . . Within my shells, I have nurtured and loved other people’s children. I have taught. Now, ever longing, never able to find my way back, I leave my shells behind. My shells. Others have come to dwell within my shells . . . Eavesdropping outside the shells of others, I listen for stories. With knowing voices, teachers tell of their yearning and learning and loving and growing, Stories of nurturance with energy and creativity, Of knowledge and determination, 200 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road Of passion and hope, Of remembrance of time past. They tell me their stories of teaching.

Sebastien Porco Seb is an English Language Arts teacher at Chambly Academy. He has a BEd from McGill University. Perspectives. There are two places where my being male is pronounced: The first being Sunday lunch with my all-female paternal cousins, and the second being a high school staffroom. I can’t claim this as surprising to me. I have been through high school, and the slim amount of male teachers—specifically English teachers—was rather obvious … I daresay that my experience as a male English Language Arts teacher has meant being treated like a left-handed relief pitcher, not a commodity or special, but definitely a minority … My perspective and growth as a male teacher are very similar to those of every teacher … I went from young adult to full adult in my tenure at the school board, and my perspective has changed with it. I don’t believe many of my experiences have been uniquely male, from playing in the intramural dodge ball league, to weekly lunchtime Democracy board games. All of these experiences are not being male, but being a teacher. I look forward to my progression and perspective change, a perspective not limited to my gender, but to my profession.

Denise Schellhase Denise teaches History at HRHS. She has a BA from the University of British Columbia, a teaching certificate from Simon Fraser University, and a MA in Education from McGill University. May 2013. I am on a year’s maternity leave … I feel a little bit like [retired Canadian astronaut] Chris Hadfield at the moment. Being away from teaching has shifted my perspective on my role in the educational system. Actually, it hasn’t shifted my perspective so much as refocused and cleaned up a pedagogical lens that had gathered some dust over the past 15 years and was in dire need of some handiwork to bring things into sharper view … I feel as though I am free to dream a little more, to enjoy shapes, and colours, and patterns of the pedagogy that I so strongly believed in when I entered the teaching field. Over the past year, I have really started to embrace and enjoy the


The Narrative Inquiry Group feeling of being untethered and somewhat weightless. Now, already anticipating a new school year in August, I dread being dragged back down to the gravity of Earth. October 2013. My feeling of weightlessness has been replaced by a dull pressure that inhibits my ability to think of creative solutions and to re-imagine the classroom space . . .

Kristen Witczak Kristen is an English teacher and facilitator of The Professional Conversation Group at Chambly Academy. She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Theatre and English from Concordia University and completed her teacher training at OISE/University of Toronto. Perspective. This is a good thing. Congratulations are in order. This is what I worked for . . . The gasp said, “The master has freed the slave” . . . I always finish what I start. I’ve never abandoned anything that mattered before. I love those children. They keep pushing through like hiccups. I can’t imagine life without them. Who do I give my best to now? I turned myself into the person they need me to be . . . July is a slash wound that won’t stop bleeding . . . I wake up one morning and realise That it’s true, That I was profoundly unhappy, And couldn’t possibly climb out of the grave I’d dug for myself . . . Finally, we have taken individual perspectives from the pieces excerpted above, shared and braided them, again through conversation and consensus. You may recognize ambiguity in our métissage, or it may feel familiar. Perhaps, you will be drawn into the weave with us, and recognize aspects of your experience or self. It is hoped that we will have sparked that note of empathy.


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road Perspectives on teaching and learning: A literary métissage. I.

All these experiences are not being male, They are being a teacher. Work with me for them, Work with me for us, Because this is a messy job, A jigsaw puzzle missing piece after piece after piece.

II.

Some plants need tender care, others I must be harsh with, I will eventually have to separate these shy flowers, It is the weeds that demand the most attention, I love dragonflies, they are my artists and dreamers. I am a good example of how things have changed.

III.

I teach, I learn, I (out)grow, grow into. I feel very much apart from the work-based discussions, I feel disconnected from the day-to-day bureaucratic mire, All that I hear is noise. We glance at our watches, we roll through that stop sign, we gulp down one last glug of coffee. We are all watching for that same sound calling us to teach.

IV.

The light shines around her when learning is valued. I went through school not learning to read or spell, experienced dread, unhappiness, self-loathing. I felt empowered and books became my friend. You will be fine. Your support changed my world, A day that changed my life and my students’ lives too. We all answer to that bell, don’t we, Students and teachers alike?

V.

I don’t have to do that anymore, I don’t have to be there anymore, I don’t have to pretend it doesn’t bother me anymore. Her passion for learning she chooses to give, This passion for knowledge. I have found my home.


The Narrative Inquiry Group

Interpreting Our Narratives: Driving Deeper Into Oz

A defining condition of being human is our urgent need to understand and order the meaning of our experience, to integrate it with what we know to avoid the threat of chaos. – Jack Mezirow, Learning as Transformation, 2000, p. 3

The purpose of this paper is to describe the process and the outcome of our journey, however we feel that a brief explanation of our claim to have learned may be necessary. The question guiding this phase of our inquiry is: • How is the learning of the professional educator evidenced in the narrative inquiry experience, specifically in The Blackboard Monologue productions? For the purpose of this analysis nine monologues were selected based on the author’s availability to participate in a cursory look for evidence of our learning. Our method included coding individually, and as a group, in round-table conversation, in order to attempt to ensure agreement. Each monologue was read aloud and all but the author coded for: a) evidence of experience and b) evidence of learning, which was then shared in discussion. As well, verbatim data chunks supporting interpretations were highlighted, and again, agreement was sought. Finally, experience was further categorized as being either positive or negative and learning as self/cognitive, self/ affective, or as social/in community. While not the primary focus of our inquiry, analysis permitted us to more explicitly understand the learning.

Discussing the Outcomes of Our Learning Thus Far: It’s About Brains and Courage and Hearts A journey awaits you. It is one filled with possibility and meaning. It will call you to come to know who you are and where you are going. At times you will need to share this pathway, whereas at others, you will travel alone. You will need to make many important choices at crossroads along the way. Each step will carry you to toward new discoveries, so step with great care. – Karen Whelan, Traveler on a Journey, 1999, p. 20 Dewey, (1938) suggests that, “there is an organic connection between education and personal experience” (p. 12). Therein may lie a fork in the road, a lesson for those


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road interested in authentic, meaningful teacher education, but a dead end for those who are not. Within our group we are making that particular connection between education and personal experience, we are making it explicit, and we are making use of it. In our work, we make use of educational research generated within the academy, we make use of reports of practitioner research, and sometimes we make it up as we go. We have the brains. We have the courage. We have the hearts, and we have learned much. This learning is situated in experience, is evidenced across domains, and because we have grown, our intention is to continue. However, the trustworthiness and usefulness of the work of the practitioner-researcher must be established for others. Eisner (1998) posits that “all experience derived from text is transactive, (and) we can ask what it is about text that is likely to make it believable” (p. 53). In our conversations about this, we reference Eisner and ask: • Does the text make sense (coherence), • Will those who experience it agree with us (consensus), and • Is it of use to others (instrumental utility)? Working with these ideas implies that “we cannot secure an ontologically objective view of the world” (p. 60). Rather, the process of knowing is transactional, and what we know is “mediated by what we bring to the world as we achieve experience . . . and what we use to convey our experience” (p. 60). The trustworthiness of the story is key, and may be found in evidence gathered, not just in the story and its background, nor simply from the storyteller, but from our audience as well. “How is the story understood?” becomes the question, and as we take our work forward, we are informed by feedback from others. Part of each presentation or performance is a call for public validation of our work.

Further on Down the Road Beyond answers, our research has provided us with questions that we may pursue in the future. We have had to conclude that our professional learning is situated largely in the affective domain, and that spirituality is an issue we wish to explore. Recurring themes of power, and the balancing of the professional and the personal, invite further investigation. Finally, gender, gender orientation, and age are critical frames that require deeper exploration.



Implications for Teacher Education: See the Ripples in the Grass Narratives are a valuable transformative tool. They allow us to see the world in new ways and help us to communicate new ideas to others. We can make worlds in many new ways. – Sigrun Gudmundsdottir, The Narrative Nature of Pedagogical Content Knowledge (1995, p. 34) Norma speaks for us all when she writes: The act of writing about life and sharing one’s own experience is very daunting, but I have learned that through métissage, the sharing and pulling from the writing of a group removes the individual and reveals a depth that resonates the universality of life. In this métissage experience, I discovered that the joy that we receive from the choices we make is greater because we are aware of the possibility of consequences, but are still willing to proceed. (Norma Hubbard, personal communication, March 8, 2014) However, this is not something learned through her teacher education program. Norma’s life and her experience as an inquirer have taught her this. We would like now to offer multiple perspectives on possible implications of our self-directed learning for teacher education.

Perspectives on the Implications for Teacher Education Amanda, Seb, and Kristen. As early career educators, our experiences with life writing and literary métissage have not only shaped our professional practice, but also largely formed our professional identities and classroom pedagogy. Our pre-service teacher education emphasized reflecting on experience, but that reflection too easily turned into a forced exercise alone in a classroom, after an isolating, soul-exhausting day of teaching. It began to feel like one more thing on a to-do list instead of an experience that adds value to our practice. The first few years of teaching are notoriously difficult and having a safe space for discussion and learning like The Narrative Inquiry Group, as well as a dedicated time and place to engage in professional conversation, have been elemental in surviving the transition into the life of a professional educator. In The Narrative Inquiry Group, we share perspectives and concerns, and find that we have concerns and experiences similar to those of teachers


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road with more experience. Kristen and Martin, for example, experienced similar struggles reconciling their philosophies of art education within a pre-existing school culture, and worked together towards strengthening curriculum delivery in their classrooms. Through our writing and reflection, we have learned to turn our shared experience into collective knowledge that we then take with us into many aspects of our professional lives. Engaging in life writing within a community of educators transforms reflection on practice into a concrete method of examining our experiences, reflecting on them, sharing with others, and problem-solving for the future, all while fostering a professional community of respect, sharing, and empathy. Participating in this research process has taken the floating, ungrounded theory of our pre-service teacher education and planted it firmly in our quotidian teaching practices. With regards to classroom practice and pedagogy, our experience within The Narrative Inquiry Group of positioning ourselves as learners has helped us create empathy for our students and their classroom experiences. Just as we find ourselves vulnerable and challenged, so too, do students. In bringing methodologies from The Narrative Inquiry Group to our classrooms, we and our students have learned together, becoming collective owners of what we have learned, and having shared responsibility for what we are contributing. As the newcomers to Oz, the Dorothys caught up in the cyclone and deposited in lands unfamiliar, early-career educators often find themselves seeking safety and familiarity. We are often lost, but within our newfound community of hearts, brains, and courage, we create for ourselves a new home. Norma and Martin. As mid-career teachers, we are quite aware of the established culture, the Flying Monkeys of our school, who often try to scare us into a singular direction regarding the how-to and what-to in the teaching of the arts and literature. However, we have spent enough hours in our classrooms to create our own Emerald Cites, small micro-worlds against the outside world. While to others on the outside it may appear impressive, within our classrooms, our Emerald Cities, there can be problems. We may take control as we close our doors on those annoying Flying Monkeys, but we are isolating ourselves. We wonder if we are alone in our experiences, or do others have similar problems. We question, “Is it just me?” The Narrative Inquiry Group provides a forum to focus on our strengths, our values in the arts and literature. We are able to discuss ideas with others. We ask, “What is art education?” Within the safe environment of the group, we become more confident of our values. We explore the expectations of art in the public, versus the real beauty


The Narrative Inquiry Group of art inside each of our students. We come to understand that in order for the students to produce authentic writing, they must examine more than the prescribed curriculum. And so, we give our students the tools that will move them from a surface understanding to a deeper knowledge that will empower them to contribute to their own educational improvement. Over time there may be a point where we become too comfortable within our classrooms, much like Dorothy and others who could have remained in the Emerald City. That was not enough for any of them, nor should it be for us. We need opportunities to share ideas so that we don’t become complacent in our teaching. We need to take multiple, alternate perspectives in order to give our best to our students. The Narrative Group provides such a forum. With our stories we encourage, critique, and challenge one another. Our writing connects us to our inside worlds, our deeper thoughts, our sensitivities, and our emotions. We become better educators. Mary, Laurie, and Judy. We are among the most experienced of the members of our group, and over time we have come to understand that it is not enough to rely on pre-service learning. It is not enough to depend solely on practical knowledge constructed in the field. It is not enough to learn about theory without an understanding of the research behind it and the applications that ought to follow in practice. With experience, we have come to value lifelong learning. The teacher educator has a valued and respected relationship with practitioners, and particularly, with those entering the profession. With an appreciation of the role of the teacher educator, and an understanding of the worth of the practical knowledge and wisdom of the teacher in the field, conversation across contexts becomes possible. To begin the conversation we would like to suggest that a teacher education program: • Create a context in which risk-taking that facilitates professional efficacy and growth is encouraged; a context that ensures opportunities for reflection and critical dialogue, and • Give teachers the tools to learn about theory, research, and practice at a deep and meaningful level, in formal, non-formal and informal settings, throughout their careers; tools that will empower them to inquire and to make a contribution to improved pedagogy and cultural change.


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road While we may wish that the teacher educator possess all of the assumed powers of the Wizard of Oz, and that teachers wear ruby slippers, we realize that this is not the case. We have discovered in our collaborations across the years and various contexts, that new and experienced educators gain confidence in their knowledge and abilities through reflection, professional conversation, and inquiry. We understand that the power needed to support the evolution of teaching practices and learning outcomes in our schools is fuelled by career-long, embedded professional development. An Invitation to Professional Conversation I hold the view that educational theory is a form of dialogue which has profound implications for the future of humanity because of the values it holds and because it is embodied in our practical lives in our workplaces and wider society. – Jack Whitehead, The Growth of Educational Knowledge (1993, p. 6) How is learning from reflection on experience evidenced in our products as we engage in narrative inquiry? Gary Hoban (2002) offers this: “The action of reflection . . . is the rethinking of experience provid(ing) personal meaning and hence learning” (p. 53). As we learn, we construct a shared understanding of the complexities of the contexts, processes, experiences, and surprises of teaching and learning, of life and work. We attempt to make things better, and we are finding our way with this. The greatest benefit of literary métissage is the development of empathetic hearts of wisdom (Chambers et al., 2012). In such relationships, educators survive the tensions and the contrasts between the possibilities and realities of life in schools. As narrators, we describe our life experiences via storytelling, capturing and braiding our voices, while inviting others into the braid and to an understanding of the implications. We believe that dialogue across educational communities creates the possibility for institutional change, change that may have a greater social impact than conversations occurring in isolation. We envision a bridge across institutions embodying shared values. Our methods may seem somewhat “controversial in the academy, blurring traditional methods of dissemination in an effort to better communicate the educational significance” (Sinner, 2013, p. 2). Nevertheless, our products provide documentation of the process of critical reflection, of transformed meaning perspectives, of direction for change. Learning occurs through the explication, elaboration, and transformation of existing perspectives as a consequence of critical reflection (Mezirow, 2000). We are sharing the outcomes of our reflective insights as we move forward, and we welcome others on our journey. Institutional transformation is ours to make, teachers and teacher educators working together. Like Dorothy and her companions on the road, we have had the power all along.



References Baum, F.L. (1939). The wonderful wizard of Oz. New York: Dover. Chambers, C.M., Hasebe-Ludt, E., Leggo, C., & Sinner, A. (2012). A heart of wisdom: Life writing as empathetic inquiry. New York: Peter Lang. Clandinin, D.J., & Connelly, F.M. (2000). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Dewey, J. (1933). How we think: A restatement of reflective thinking to the educative process. Boston: Heath. Dewey, J. (1938/1998). Experience and education. Indianapolis, IN: Kappa Delta Pi. Duff, P.A. (2002). Narrative inquiry: More than just telling stories. TESOL Quarterly, 26(2), 207–213. Eisner, E. (1998). The enlightened eye: Qualitative inquiry and the enhancement of educational practice. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall. Elza, D. (2011). It’s like telling people you have rats and forgetting to qualify them as pets: A poet’s journey. LEARNing Landscapes, 4(2), 187–194. Ensler, E. (2001). The vagina monologues. New York: Villard Books. Gudmunsdottir, S. (1995). The narrative nature of pedagogical content knowledge. In H. McEwan & K. Egan (Eds.), Narrative in teaching, learning, and research. New York: Teachers College Press. Hamdan, S. (2013). Happy am I. Holy am I. Healthy am I. Sharp Thinking Communications. Hasebe-Ludt, E., Chambers, C., & Leggo, C. (2009). Life writing and literary métissage as an ethos for our times. New York: Peter Lang. Hoban, G. (2002). Teacher learning for educational change. Philadelphia: Open University Press. Holly, M., Arhar, J., & Kasten, W. (2001). Research for teachers: Traveling the yellow brick road. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Merrill Prentice Hall.

Hubbard, N., Jager, A., Labrie, M., MacLeod, M., Mallet, D., McBride, J. et al. (2013). The blackboard monologues: Perspectives on the personal and the professional lives of educators. Paper presented at the Annual Convention of the Quebec Provincial Association of Teachers. November 21, 2013, Montreal, QC, Canada. Irvine, S., & Collie, M. (2011). The professional conversation: A new approach to professional learning in early childhood education and care. Retrieved from: http://eprints.qut. edu.au/47714/ Jager, A., Hubbard, N., Labrie, M., MacLeod, L., Mallet, D., McBride, J. et al. (2014). Situating the practitioner’s learning in the gap between theory and practice. Paper presented to the Annual Conference of the Education Graduate Students’ Society, Faculty of Education, McGill University, Montreal, Quebec. Kamanzi, P., Riopel, M., & Lessard, C. (2007). School teachers in Canada: Context, profile and work — highlights of a pan Canadian survey. Retrieved from: https://depot.erudit. org/bitstream/003042dd/1/Hightlights%20 of%20a%20pancanadian%20survey.pdf Leggo, C. (2010). Writing a life: Representation in language and image. Transnational Curriculum Inquiry, 7(2), 47–61. Mezirow, J. (1991a). Fostering critical reflection in adulthood. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Mezirow. J. (1991b). Transformative dimensions of adult learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Mezirow, J. (2000). Learning as transformation: Critical perspectives on a theory in progress. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Naylor, C., O’Neill, E., & Rojem, K. (n.d.). Teacher worklife research. Vancouver, BC: British Columbia Teachers Federation. Retrieved from: https://www.bctf.ca/Issues InEducation.aspx?id=21453&libID=21443 Rust, F. O. (2002). Teacher research and the problem of practice. Teachers College Record, 111(8), 1882–1893.


To Where Teachers Learn: Following the Yellow Brick Road Simpkins, S. (2012). Narrative métissage: Crafting empathy and understanding of self/other. (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Victoria, Victoria, BC. Sinner, A. (2010). Fragments: Spectres of a sojourning sojourner. Transnational Curriculum Inquiry, 7(2), 75–81.

Sinner, A. (2013). Unfolding the unexpectedness of uncertainty: Creative non-fiction and the lives of becoming teachers. Boston: Sense. Whitehead, J. (1993). The growth of educational knowledge: Creating your own living educational theories. Bournemouth: Hyde.

The Narrative Inquiry Group is a writers’ collective with 11 members. Our group is composed of teachers and nonteaching professionals, active and retired, from three public secondary schools in Quebec, Canada. We meet every few weeks to talk, reflect, write, analyze, illustrate, and braid lived experience through life writing. As well, we seek opportunities to perform the products of our professional conversations and to engage with others in the practice of narrative inquiry and literary métissage.



A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell, St. Francis Xavier University

ABSTRACT Although field experiences may be staple features of teacher education programs, international field experiences are still growing in popularity. This is particularly true at our university, where international field experiences are still very much in their infancy. As such, this article describes a recently completed international field experience. More specifically, a selection of a pre-service teacher’s reflections—focused upon preconceptions, observations, professional change/growth, and personal change/ growth—are shared and explored. Given that international field experiences are still relatively new within many teacher education programs, and are irregularly offered or altogether absent within others, we hope that our account of learning through such an experience will prove informative and educative to others.

A

ll Canadian teacher education programs include field experiences of some sort (Crocker & Dibbon, 2008; Falkenberg, 2010). These field experiences have many labels; somewhat synonymous terms include “practicum,” “clinical experience,” and “internship.”1 While field experiences may be required and/or regulated by various bodies (e.g., provincial ministries, teacher accreditation agencies, universities), they are also recognized as necessary and sound pedagogical learning experiences. Indeed, in recent times, Darling-Hammond (2006) emphasized this point, suggesting that additional attention ought to be given to the field experience. More specifically, she suggested, “extensive clinical work, intensive supervision, [and] expert modeling of practice” (p. 307) are underused yet critical components of quality teacher education programs.


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell Although the field experience might be appropriately labelled, “the most pervasive pedagogy in teacher education” (Darling-Hammond & Baratz-Snowden, 2005, p. 42)— long acknowledged for its profound impact upon pre-service teachers’ learning— there is no particular model that has been adopted by all Canadian teacher education programs (nor is it herein being suggested that there ought to be). To be clear, the field experience is a staple feature within all Canadian teacher education programs. However, the duration and design of field experiences vary tremendously among universities’ teacher education programs. For example, across Canada, the duration of field experiences ranges from eight weeks to 22 weeks (Gambhir, Broad, Evans, & Gaskell, 2008). The design of field experiences similarly varies. Some take place in parts of days, others in full days, and others over the course of many weeks, or months (Gambhir et al., 2008). Some universities might require a single field experience while others might require four or more. In addition to such interuniversity variety, considerable differences also often exist within a single university’s program. That is, despite the stated or intended design of a particular field experience program, other variables impact the actual experiences of pre-service teachers. For example, supervision and/or mentoring practices and abilities vary widely, as do the nature of pre-service teachers’ assumed teaching responsibilities (e.g., with respect to instructional time or “aligned” teachable subjects). Notwithstanding the above-mentioned dissimilarities, and the absence of a shared model, there is considerable evidence suggesting field experiences within Canada’s teacher education programs do nonetheless share some common core characteristics (Van Nuland, 2011). For example Ralph, Walker, and Wimmer (2008) observed all field experiences have the same primary aim (i.e., to mentor pre-service teachers as they acquire professional skills and knowledge in authentic real-world settings) as well as additional common elements (e.g., supervision/mentorship roles, formative and summative assessment processes). Though Ralph et al. (2008) identified these sorts of commonalities, they also recognized an additional noteworthy point, namely that, “programs all have idiosyncratic features that are unique to the situational contexts in which each practicum experience is embedded” (p. 160). Our field experience program is no different. That is, we share these two somewhat universal characteristics and yet, like other institutions, we also have our own unique features and practices.


A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience

Common and Unique Features of Our Field Experience Commonalities stated by Ralph et al. (2008) related to aim and elements are certainly present within our program. For instance, the articulated purpose of our field experience is to enable, “pre-service teachers to make connections between thinking about and engaging in the practice of teaching” (St. Francis Xavier University, 2013, p. 4). Like others, we hope that our pre-service teachers are able to develop and refine requisite knowledge, skills, and attributes with real students in real schools; only so much can be taught and learned within university courses. We believe pre-service teachers must be afforded opportunities for genuine praxis; this may be done “by honoring practice in conjunction with reflection and research” (Darling-Hammond, 2000, p. 171). Such a process is necessarily not linear but, rather, might be best conceptualized as cyclical and recursive. Relatedly, and as Moore (2003) suggested, we recognize the reciprocal relationship that exists between educational theory and classroom practice. To us, making sense of classroom coursework requires in-the-field experience, and vice versa. In each of our field experiences, pre-service teachers also receive formative assessments from their cooperating teachers and faculty advisors. Paralleling their course-based instruction related to assessment, these formative assessments are in many ways privileged and prioritized over the final summative assessments. Such a focus upon formative assessment in the field is not unusual. Raths and Lyman (2003) investigated many teacher education programs and found assessments of pre-service teachers were formative more often than they were summative. Moreover, as is the case for such programs, our formative assessment process, “resembles a mentoring activity when the knowledge assessed is discussed with students, and the aim is to improve students’ performance” (Hegender, 2010, p. 153). At the conclusion of each year, preservice teachers receive summative assessments written by their faculty advisors (with consultation from their cooperating teachers). Again, these points of information are not unique; many others within other Canadian teacher education programs ought to recognize familiar features. Together, our location, our population of pre-service teachers, our complement of faculty, and the structure of our degree program shape the design of our field experience. We are situated in a relatively remote rural location and are very often appropriately branded as a residential university; very few of our students are from the immediate area. We generally have approximately 240 Bachelor of Education (BEd) students. This is small compared to the Canadian range of fewer than 100 to


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell over 4,000 students (Crocker & Dibbon, 2008). Similarly, with a faculty size of 17, we are relatively small compared to Canada’s other teacher education programs, where faculty complements range from six to approximately 150 (Crocker & Dibbon, 2008). Finally, compared to our peers at other institutions, faculty members here enjoy a considerable amount of instructional time with pre-service teachers. That is, we have a two-year (60-credit) post-initial degree program. Unlike shorter post-initial degree programs (some of which are only eight months long) and many concurrent degree programs (in which most-to-all education courses may be taken in the final year), our consecutive degree program allows faculty members to work with pre-service teachers all of the time (including in the field), for two consecutive years. Together, our geography, population, and consecutive degree program enable (and, in some ways, constrain) us to offer considerable experience in the field, under the supervision of all of our tenuretrack and tenured professors. Our two-year program includes four field experiences, one after each of four terms of instruction. During the first year, pre-service teachers generally teach within one of their teachable subjects (and/or grade levels), increasing their instructional time from 25% to 50% from their first field experience to their second. During the second year, pre-service teachers generally teach within their other teachable subject (and/or grade levels), increasing their instructional time from 75% to 100% from their third field experience to their fourth. To more fully appreciate the structure of our field experience program, see Figure 1. YEAR 1

YEAR 2

Term 1

Term 2

Term 3

Term 4

5 weeks

6 weeks

5 weeks

6 weeks

Nov-Dec

Mar-Apr

Nov-Dec

Mar-Apr

≈ 25% of FTE

≈ 50% of FTE

≈ 75% of FTE

≈ 100% of FTE

Fig. 1: Field experience structure

No teacher education program in Canada requires more than the 22 weeks of field experience we have here (Gambhir et al., 2008). Moreover, in order to obtain teacher certification, pre-service teachers need only accumulate 15 weeks of field experience. The “extra” seven weeks afford us considerable license to be especially flexible in the delivery of the fourth, and final, field experience. One possibility is for second year pre-service teachers to apply for an individualized placement option in their final field experience. Such individualized placements vary considerably. For example, 216 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience recent individualized placements have occurred in detention centres, provincial sport organizations, museums, and not-for-profit organizations. Another possibility for second year pre-service teachers offers an especially unique learning opportunity. This second option is an international field experience.

International Field Experiences International field experiences have been increasingly present in various teacher education programs since the 1980s (Stachowski & Sparks, 2007). There have been many factors that have contributed to this trend. These include logical reasons such as the increased focus upon multicultural and global perspectives within teacher education programs, as well as somewhat less noble reasons such as developing international programs to attract potential candidates in an increasingly competitive teacher education market (Baker & Giacchino-Baker, 2000; Pence & Macgillivray, 2008). Not surprisingly, with the initial introduction and subsequent increase in this practice, there has been a burgeoning interest in related research (Villegas & Lucas, 2002; Wilson, 1993). Willard-Holt (2001) investigated the impact of a one-week international field experience. In her study, American pre-service teachers travelled to Mexico and taught in a Spanish-English bilingual school. By conducting questionnaires and interviews before and after the experience (as well as one year afterwards), Willard-Holt found that pre-service teachers enjoyed long-lasting positive effects upon both their teaching (e.g., they developed empathy and flexibility) and their personal lives (e.g., they gained appreciation for their resources and became more self-confident). It is also worth noting that Willard-Holt’s research also uncovered some negative impacts of the international field experience. These included, for example, overconfidence and an inflated perceived understanding of Mexican culture. Willard-Holt’s (2001) research results complemented earlier research by Mahan and Stachowski (1992). While Willard-Holt’s research with a relatively small number of participants reported on both the positive teaching and personal changes that occurred, Mahan and Stachowski’s research with a large number of participants quantified these observations and found that most changes (approximately 73%) were personal in nature, rather than related to teaching. Some of these positive personal characteristics included flexibility, patience, and self-confidence (it ought to be acknowledged that many of these personal characteristics might also appropriately be connected to improved teaching practice as well). Stachowski and Sparks (2007) continued to research their teacher education program’s field experiences and found


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell pre-service teachers’ reflections focused on a small number of themes. These themes included promoting cross-cultural understanding, exchanging knowledge with host teachers, enhanced classroom managements skills and strategies, and awareness of alternative ways of reaching students. More recently, Pence and Macgillivray (2008) sought to investigate the impact of an international field experience on pre-service teachers. They were interested in exploring if their pre-service teachers would report positive experiences similar to those previously discovered by others. More specifically, the sorts of experiences they were looking for included, “challenging students’ preconceived ideas about culturally diverse others and different types of schools, personal and professional changes, and any other ways the students felt challenged and grew” (p. 18). Pence and Macgillivray’s research provided a functional framework—focused upon preconceptions, observations, professional change/growth, and personal change/growth—from which to explore the value of an international field experience.

Our International Field Experience Our university’s international field experience option is relatively new within our teacher education program. In the past six years, international field experiences have occurred in Iceland, Kenya, Australia, Norway, China, and, most recently, Belize. Though these six countries obviously offered entirely different cultural experiences, the Belizean experience was particularly unique: it offered pre-service teachers an opportunity to teach within a school with limited material and human resources and it also required them to live (in very close quarters) amongst their students in a small Indigenous (Mayan) community within a relatively poor and developing nation (see Figures 2 and 3 for photographs of the accommodations and the school site).

Fig. 2: Accommodations


A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience

Fig. 3: School site

Relationships and Roles During the Field Experience It is a useful exercise to provide a brief description of our relationship with one another and our roles during the field experience. In addition to being a faculty advisor, Dan is also an associate professor. Dan organized the international field experience, supervised 12 pre-service teachers, and completed formative and summative assessments for six pre-service teachers. In addition to being a pre-service teacher while in Belize, Rebecca is now a public school teacher in England. During the international field experience, Rebecca taught all subjects to 31 students in an Infant 1 class—equivalent to kindergarten in Canada. We had known one another for over two years and, prior to the international field experience, already shared many positive experiences together. For example, Dan taught Rebecca three separate courses, was her faculty advisor in her first year (in a “domestic” placement), invited and mentored Rebecca at a national student leadership conference, and co-presented a session with her at a provincial teachers’ conference. We have developed what can be described as a close professional relationship with one another. Today, we view each other as colleagues.

Focusing Reflections Given the intuitive sense that our international field experience provided many of the positive professional and personal benefits cited in the literature, and the framework for inquiry offered by Pence and Macgillivray (2008), we felt that it would be a worthwhile task to reflect upon the Belizean field experience. To do this, we attended to Pence and Macgillvray’s areas of reflective inquiry: preconceptions, observations, professional change/growth, and personal change/growth. During the international


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell field experience, Rebecca completed daily reflections and shared them with Dan. These reflections focused upon Pence and Macgillivray’s four areas of reflective inquiry, as well as a number of other topics related, for example, to Rebecca’s independently set professional growth goals. While in Belize, pre-service teacher/faculty advisor meetings allowed for a discussion of these reflections. Upon returning to Canada, Rebecca wrote detailed reflections focusing more closely upon Pence and Macgillivray’s four areas. The four guiding questions for these reflections were: 1. What were your preconceptions before going to Belize related to the: education system, curriculum, students, teachers, culture, and your anticipated strengths/ weaknesses in the new context? 2. What were your observations when you arrived at Belize related to the: education system, curriculum, students, teachers, culture, and your anticipated strengths/ weaknesses in the new context? 3. Describe your professional change/growth as it relates to the following categories: planning and preparation, learning environment, engagement in learning through teaching, and professional responsibilities. 4. Describe your personal change/growth.

Reflections on the International Field Experience Given the large number of guided reflection prompts (17 when all sub-questions are considered), there was considerable content within Rebecca’s reflections. That being so, together we decided to focus upon a selection of those reflections that we agreed were especially important, congruent, and personally meaningful. Included below are selected excerpts from Rebecca, with accompanying responses from Dan.

Rebecca’s Preconceptions • I had no idea what the students would be like because I had never interacted with children in countries other than Canada and the United States. I created the idea that Belizean students would appreciate my presence and behave very well because they wouldn’t want to upset me. I thought they would be very grateful for the resources I brought and would have the desire to learn and absorb everything new I taught them. I thought they would respect and take care of everything I left in their classroom because it would be a special gift from a different country.


A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience • My professor told me that I would probably have more education and teaching experience than my Belizean cooperating teacher. Still, I expected to learn new behaviour management strategies, classroom management techniques, and lesson plan ideas (that required few resources and no technology). • I expected the Mayans to be old-fashioned, meaning the men would work out in the fields while the women stayed home to take care of the house and children. I sort of made up the idea that they lived like traditional Aboriginals who lived off the land. I thought the Mayans would dress in hand-made clothing, hunt for and grow the majority of their food, and pray to Mayan gods. I expected the Mayans to appreciate and love nature and take care of the surrounding environment. • I anticipated that I would easily adapt to teaching in a new country/culture because I can think quickly on my feet and I am used to getting thrown right into things. I thought that it would be hard to create lessons that would engage 31 five-year-olds without the use of technology because I am so used to having the luxury of Googling, “Youtubing,” and photocopying everything.

Dan’s Response It was certainly understandable for Rebecca to have some preconceptions that were soon discovered to be misconceptions. Indeed, as this was essentially her first time interacting with children from a country outside of Canada or the United States, she simply did not have a frame of reference beyond her immediate and local experience. Although I had been to Belize before (and at the school site as well), I was not entirely sure how Rebecca’s students would receive her (or her resources and gifts). My observation, which was attended to within her reflections as well, was that her students’ perceived lack of care and respect was troubling and disconcerting to her. It is also a fair statement to suggest that all of her peers had somewhat similar experiences. However, I would suggest that the students’ perceived lack of care and respect had less to do with character or personality shortcomings than with poverty in the village. That is, although the community and school lacked materials, equipment, and resources, there were many cheap and cheaply made products available to students that might be best described as consumables (e.g., candy, discount store toys). Given that students were generally only given access to products that must be immediately consumed (or that, under normal conditions, might reasonably be expected to last for only days or hours), it should be of little surprise that additional care and respect was not given for the resources or gifts brought by pre-service teachers.


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell The other noteworthy preconception is related to Rebecca’s imagined lives and lifestyles of the Mayan people. In some ways, her reflection conjured “noble savage” views and primitivism discourses (Deutschlander & Miller, 2003; Ellingson, 2001). Rebecca had simply never been to another country with an Indigenous population. Nonetheless, some of these preconceptions were still partly or wholly true (e.g., traditional gender roles, hunting and growing of food, care for the bordering rain forest). Having supervised Rebecca in a previous field experience in which many of her students were First Nations or Métis (and noting that Rebecca herself has Aboriginal ancestry), we were able to discuss her preconceptions and observations while contrasting the Canadian Aboriginal experience with the Belizean Mayan experience.

Rebecca’s Observations • There were a lot of policies and procedures set by the education system that I did not expect to encounter, and which I did not enjoy following. For example, teachers have to write out every lesson plan for the upcoming week and they have to submit their planning books by 3:30 p.m. on Thursday to the principal so that he can read over and assess them. Teachers also have to test students every Friday on all subjects and submit the students’ marks into a computer that same day. The purpose of this testing is so the teachers can rank the students from first (highest score/rank in the class) to last (lowest score/rank in the class). • I found the Belizean curriculum to be more advanced than our curriculum in many ways. For example, my Infant 1s were expected to read analog clocks, measure distances in centimetres, inches, and feet, and name or label all of the districts in Belize, as well as the names of the surrounding Central American countries. That said, I did not think the Language Arts outcomes were very practical for the age and ability of the Infant 1s: half of the students spoke Mayan as their first language and the other half only spoke Spanish. The outcomes were created for students who speak English as their first language. None of my students could read English and only two or three could sound out and/or print any sight words on their own. • The students’ behaviour in the classroom was not what I expected. Students did not respond to discipline from the teacher and they were verbally and physically aggressive towards one another. They often did not respect the property of others and they did not appreciate any resources my cooperating teacher or I gave them or let them use. The Belizean teachers were responsible for buying school supplies and resources with their own money, so my cooperating teacher would also get upset when the students destroyed the resources she bought or made for them. For example, they would rip pages out of books, rip posters off of walls, and break rulers in half. 222 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience • My cooperating teacher was a very nice woman who truly cares about her students. She put a lot of time into creating resources for her students to use in the classroom. However, she was expected to take on too many responsibilities and the large workload negatively impacted her teaching practices. She was so busy filling out lesson planning books for the principal that she did not have the energy and enthusiasm to teach engaging lessons. • Old-fashioned gender roles are prominent in the Mayan culture. Typically, the men work for money and the women stay at home to cook, clean, sew, and take care of the children. Girls often drop out of school or do not continue on to high school so that they can stay at home and help their mothers run the household. • My ability to adapt to situations I am thrown into (one of my strengths) really came in handy while I was teaching in Maya Center: on my first day I was teaching Religious Studies within the first five minutes of walking into the Infant 1 classroom. On my second day my teacher didn’t show up to school and I was on my own for the entire day. I ended up teaching 75-100% (depending on the day) for the rest of my field experience with little-to-no support.

Dan’s Response Rebecca was able to be critical of educational practices while teaching within a system that required her to implement those same practices. Clearly, and again as evidenced through her reflections, Rebecca experienced considerable dissonance. It was reassuring to see that her critiques and criticisms were consonant with content taught within her education courses (e.g., related to distributed educational leadership, sound assessment practices, high stakes testing, etc.). She was also able to understand that these problematic practices were not Belizean in origin but, rather, were entirely consistent with what once happened within Canada as well. Indeed, these dated practices were initially introduced within Belize so as to agree with previously “proven” Western practices. It was similarly reassuring to see that Rebecca recognized that in her future role as a teacher (rather than as a pre-service teacher), she held considerable certainty about how she would address these issues. Rebecca was also able to critically consider the curriculum content. She correctly observed that much of the curriculum content was more advanced than the content taught to students of a similar age in Canada. This was generally true of all grade levels within the school. While this presented minimal issues within most subject areas, it was plainly problematic for Language Arts. Rebecca observed that all of her students had initially learned a language other than English (i.e., either Mayan or Spanish). Although her class was made up entirely of what we might label as English as a Second Language


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell (ESL) students, the Language Arts curriculum was written for native English speakers. Her observation that this presented a problem is noteworthy; she knew that teaching and learning must necessarily take this into account. Rebecca observed that curriculum written is different than curriculum lived—and that curriculum lived must depend on context.

Rebecca’s Professional Change/Growth • My planning really improved. I had to prepare multiple activities for each lesson because my students ranged from barely understanding English to being able to finish an activity within five minutes. As time went on and I got to know my students, planning didn’t become easier; I just got better at it and could complete it faster. I found it hard to long-term plan because only about one quarter of the students would understand the concept of each lesson, but I had to “follow the plan book” and move on to the next concept anyway. This experience made me aware that following a plan book is crucial to make sure all the outcomes are covered. However, it also taught me the importance of being flexible and spending extra time on concepts that students are having trouble understanding. • The main form of assessment in the Infant 1 classroom is paper-and-pencil testing. Every Friday is exam day. The students sit at their desks and write seven tests, one for each subject (Language Arts, Mathematics, Science, Health, Social Studies, Spanish, and Religious Studies). Each test has to be a minimum of 16 questions and the students’ scores are recorded in the computer right away. The students are then ranked from 1 (the highest or “smartest”) to 31 (the lowest or “least smart”) according to their grade average. The students and their parents/ guardians are told their weekly ranking. If a student has below a 70% average for two of the three terms, she/he will fail the year. I had to continue with exam day when I took over the classroom; however, I made the tests as fair as possible for the five-year-olds writing them. I also used observation and conversation (formative assessment) so I could plan my lessons and create the tests based on what my students were capable of demonstrating. This experience made me realize how important (daily) formative assessment is and how wrong it is to make five-year-olds write these high stakes tests (and then openly rank them based on their scores). I will never ask my future kindergarten students to write tests like these because I witnessed, first hand, that they don’t have any positive impact on students or their learning at that age. I noticed that students who scored poorly had damaged self-worth and self-confidence, and their passion for learning and participating in school was destroyed.


A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience • My Infant 1s were such a challenging group of students that I was constantly trying to think of new ways to deliver lessons and improve my personal teaching practice. This was my first classroom experience where I can openly say some lessons went really poorly. I soon figured out that I had to put myself in their shoes in order to create lessons that they were capable of understanding and engaging in. I learned a lot about using culturally diverse approaches. Learning about my students’ home life, how they grow up, how they are treated, what they do after school, what is expected of them—these things were all important. I had to learn to see the world from their eyes and this changed my life, and who I want to be as a teacher and a person. This experience gave me a deeper passion for teaching students abroad. • I developed very strong relationships with my students. In Maya Center, I was encouraged to hug my students and tell them I loved them. Being able to share my love and affection with my students (and accept their love and affection in return) was amazing. I hate giving “side hugs” and being afraid to be close with my students because of liability reasons. In Belize, it would be unusual to not hug a student when saying hello and goodbye. Showing my students how much I cared for them allowed me to gain their trust. Giving hugs and words of love taught the students that it is acceptable to be affectionate at school and it is important to share kindness and love with others. I will never replace the loving and special relationship I had with each and every one of my students in Maya Center, and giving hugs is what started it all. • Creating a sense of community in my classroom took time. I had to take part in a lot of reflection—reflection with my self, my peers, my cooperating teacher, my professor, and (most importantly) my students. Finally, I realized that my students simply needed to learn how to compliment each other, care for each other, and cooperate instead of compete and tattle. This took time. By my last week in Belize my students finally started to create the positive classroom environment I was striving for. This experience taught me that teaching social and emotional learning is just as important as teaching curriculum content.

Dan’s Response Rebecca’s observation that this field experience provided her first “real” challenges (e.g., for the first time some lessons went poorly) was noteworthy. In my nine years of teaching and supervising pre-service teachers, Rebecca has been one of the best I have seen teach. She is a skilled neophyte; perhaps encountering such difficulty was a good thing for her. As an exceptional pre-service teacher she had, until the international field experience, encountered few hurdles. She clearly came to understand that teaching


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell and learning could be improved upon by making an explicit effort to attend to her students’ culture. Only by attempting to introduce culturally appropriate approaches was Rebecca able to connect content to students’ lives so that the curriculum could become culturally relevant and engaging. Making these connections also enabled Rebecca to begin to develop constructive personal relationships with her students. In addition to building relationships through discovering (and then including in instruction) students’ culture, Rebecca also found that the international field experience enabled her to physically connect with her students in a manner that was all but forbidden in many Canadian schools. More senior teachers might recall a time when the physical displays of affection, compassion, or love described by Rebecca were commonplace within their own practice. However, today our pre-service teachers are less likely to invite or accept such physical displays. Indeed, here—and elsewhere I presume—we discourage it. I was truly pleased that Rebecca had this experience. She clearly found it to be especially pure and rewarding. Having the opportunity to freely physically share her affection, compassion, and love with her students is something she may never have again. Rebecca’s reflection served as a reminder to me about why we teach.

Rebecca’s Personal Change/Growth • Teaching, living, and travelling in Belize taught me so much about myself as a person and teacher. Teaching students from a different culture was obviously an enriching experience, but living in the same community as my students is what made the experience worthwhile: I made special connections with my students because I was able to live the life of a Mayan for an entire month. I ate the same food, swam in the same rivers, walked the same roads, and lived in the same houses. I was living a life that was “harder” than my Canadian life, but I was completely content doing so. • I didn’t realize how content I was until I taught a lesson on happiness to my Infant 1 students. I introduced the lesson with a book called The Happy Hedgehog by Marcus Pfister (2003). The book is about a hedgehog who goes on an adventure searching for happiness. On his adventure he meets three animals that are also trying to find happiness. One animal spends all day running to be the fastest (and to him, therefore, the happiest) animal in the woods. One animal spends all day studying to be the smartest (and to him, therefore, the happiest) animal in the woods. And one animal spends all day training to be the strongest (and to him, therefore, the happiest) animal in the woods. The hedgehog tries running, studying, and training but realizes that he is the happiest doing what he enjoys 226 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience most—sitting in his own garden at home. The hard-working animals in this book are comparable to me when I live in Canada (striving to accomplish things that will result in happiness). The hedgehog is comparable to me when I was living in Belize (appreciating my surroundings to feel happy in the moment). I’m not saying I wasn’t happy in Canada before my trip or I wasn’t busy in Belize, but living in a beautiful new country, learning about a new culture, without the constant distractions of home (especially technology) really showed me what being truly content in the moment feels like. • After my practicum in Belize, I did a lot of reflecting and made a big decision that has drastically changed my future. This decision was to quit my previously secured full-time teaching position in Canada and accept a substitute teaching job in the United Kingdom. I know that, right now in my life, I feel the happiest teaching children from different cultures and travelling to places I have never been. I may not have discovered this feeling of happiness and I definitely wouldn’t have made this life-altering decision if I had not travelled to Belize to teach. I am thankful for my experience every day and I will be thankful for the rest of my life.

Dan’s Response Rebecca believed that her personal growth was largely dependent on her being immersed in the community. This international field experience was different than previous ones where pre-service teachers lived off-site in much more comfortable accommodations. It is safe to say that she would not have experienced the same level of personal change/growth had pre-service teachers lived off-site as others have in the past. Rebecca’s experience of joy while “going without” so many taken-for-granted and modern luxuries was evidently educative for her. Seemingly, living within the community made all the difference. It cannot be understated how momentous a decision Rebecca’s career change was. It is no secret that the job market for beginning teachers is limited and competitive. Rebecca was one of the few pre-service teachers here who were offered, before graduation, a full-time teaching position in a highly desirable area. Moreover, given her strong references, her demonstrated knowledge, skills, and attributes in her coursework, and her exceptional field experience evaluations, Rebecca was basically given her choice of teaching assignment. Quitting this secured position, a “dream job” for many of her peers, to substitute teach and travel abroad speaks to the epiphany she was only able to have due to her positive international field experience.


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell

Concluding Remarks Rebecca offers but one perspective and Dan offers but one response. Rebecca’s preconceptions, observations, professional change/growth, and personal change/ growth are hers only. That said, in many ways her learning experiences were very similar to those that her peers had. Others undoubtedly had some of the same preconceptions, made sense of similar observations, and, through experience and reflection, found that they grew professionally and personally in similar (and different) ways. Attending to more of our pre-service teachers’ reflections while immersed in an international field experience would be a worthwhile pursuit. Though we have attempted to highlight some of the most positive learning experiences related to our international field experience, we are aware that more can be done to improve the entire exercise. We certainly know that all is not necessarily ideal. Presently, we basically have an unarticulated rationale for offering these international field experiences (in Belize or elsewhere). Intuitively and anecdotally, individual faculty members may have a sense or rationale for organizing or supporting such experiences, but little to no discussion (and certainly no policy) has been initiated to define why we ought to be pursuing this sort of field experience in the first place. We offer the international field experience because many of us simply believe it is a good idea. We see some benefits, cited in the literature and also shared by pre-service teachers, like Rebecca and faculty advisors like Dan. The international field experience attracts students to our teacher education program; participating pre-service teachers can learn important educational lessons related to a number of topics (e.g., culturally relevant instruction); and we can enable our in-service teachers to experience significant personal challenge and growth. Still, questions remain that ought to be asked and addressed. Should our in-service teachers be mentored by “expert” cooperating teachers as they are in Canada? Or are they meant to be the experts themselves, modeling sound pedagogy for less educated and, at times, less experienced mentor teachers as they do in Belize? Should they teach only in their teachable subject areas as is the practice in Canada, or should they teach all subjects to all of their students, as they must in Belize? Given the unique nature of international field experiences, how might expectations for teaching change? Moreover, if expectations ought to be different (and, by all accounts, they already do and/or probably should), then how should formative and summative assessments of our pre-service teachers differ? For what kind of teaching career are we preparing our in-service teachers? A Nova Scotian one? A Canadian one? An international one?


A Belizean Education: Learning From an International Field Experience We see these sorts of unanswered questions wanting for attention. Today, pre-service teachers and faculty members are beginning to have these sorts of conversations; some are becoming engaged in genuine discussions about areas for improvement. Indeed, in many ways, this article is a part of this process. In the near future, colleagues will be coming together to research our upcoming international field experiences. We know that the international field experience is not perfect and that there will likely always be room for improvement. That being said, in the meantime, we will continue to do it anyway because we know that it makes a difference. We would hope that our peers within other teacher education programs might contemplate upon our shared learning experiences so that they may seek ways to provide similar opportunities for their own pre-service teachers. Those who already have similar programs might invite one another into dialogue so that, together, we might learn from one another so as to provide better experiences for all of our preservice teachers in the future. Moreover, the gathering of voices in this manner, and for this purpose, ought to be open to all of those involved—pre-service teachers, cooperating in-service teachers, and faculty advisors.

Note 1. Herein we have adopted the term “field experience.”

Acknowledgment We wish to acknowledge the contributions of Adam Cadegan and Katelyn Haughn in the preparation of this article.


Daniel B. Robinson and Rebecca Bell

References Baker, F. J., & Giacchino-Baker, R. (2000). Building an international student teaching program: A California/Mexico experience. Retrieved from ERIC database. (ED449143)

Mahan, J. M., & Stachowski, L. L. (1992). Selfreported reshaping effects of foreign student teaching upon young teachers. Education 112(3), 329–346.

Crocker, R., & Dibbon, D. (2008). Teacher education in Canada. Kelowna, Canada: Society for the Advancement of Excellence in Education.

Moore, R. (2003). Reexamining the field experiences of preservice teachers. Journal of Teacher Education, 54(1), 31–42.

Darling-Hammond, L. (2000). How teacher education matters. Journal of Teacher Education, 51(3), 166–173. Darling-Hammond, L. (2006). Constructing 21st-century teacher education. Journal of Teacher Education, 57(3), 300–314. Darling-Hammond, L., & Baratz-Snowden, J. (Eds.). (2005). A good teacher in every classroom: Preparing the highly qualified teachers our children deserve. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Deutschlander, S., & Miller, L. J. (2003). Politicizing Aboriginal cultural tourism: The discourse of primitivism in the tourist encounter. Canadian Review of Sociology, 40(1), 27–44. Ellingson, T. (2001). The myth of the noble savage. Los Angeles: University of California Press. Falkenberg, T. (2010). Introduction: Central issues of field experiences in Canadian teacher education programmes. In T. Falkenberg & H. Smits (Eds.), Field experiences in the context of reform of Canadian teacher education programmes (pp. 1–50). Winnipeg, Canada: Faculty of Education of the University of Manitoba. Gambhir, M., Broad, K., Evans, M., & Gaskell, J. (2008). Characterizing initial teacher education in Canada: Themes and issues. Retrieved from http://www.oise.utoronto.ca/ite/UserFiles /File/CharacterizingITE.pdf Hegender, H. (2010). The assessment of student teachers’ academic and professional knowledge in school-based teacher education. Scandinavian Journal of Educational Research, 54(2), 151–171.

Pence, H. M., & Macgillivray, I. K. (2008). The impact of an international field experience on preservice teachers. Teaching and Teacher Education, 24(1), 14–25. Pfister, M. (2003). The happy hedgehog. New York: North-South Books. Ralph, E. G., Walker, K., & Wimmer, R. (2008). The clinical/practicum experience in professional preparation: Preliminary findings. McGill Journal of Education, 43(2), 157–172. Raths, J., & Lyman, F. (2003). Summative evaluation of student teachers: An enduring problem. Journal of Teacher Education, 54(3), 206–216. Stachowski, L. L., & Sparks, T. (2007). Thirty years and 2,000 student teachers later: An overseas student teaching project that is popular, successful, and replicable. Teacher Education Quarterly, 34(1), 115–132. St. Francis Xavier University. (2013). Bachelor of education handbook, 2013-14. Antigonish, Canada: St. Francis Xavier University. Van Nuland, S. (2011). Teacher education in Canada. Journal of Education for Teaching: International research and pedagogy, 37(4), 409–421. Villegas, A. M., & Lucas, T. (2002). Educating culturally responsive teachers: A coherent approach. Albany: SUNY Press. Willard-Holt, C. (2001). The impact of a shortterm international experience for preservice teachers. Teaching and Teacher Education, 17(4), 505–517. Wilson, A. H. (1993). The meaning of international experiences for schools. Westport, CT: Praeger.


A Belizean Education: Learning from an International Field Experience

Daniel B. Robinson, PhD, is an Associate Professor at St. Francis Xavier University’s Faculty of Education in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. There he teaches undergraduate courses related to physical and health education pedagogy, as well as graduate courses related to research in curriculum and instruction, administration of inclusive schools, and curriculum theory. His research interests focus upon culturally relevant pedagogy, physical education teacher education, mentorship, active transportation education programs, and service learning.

Rebecca Bell

is a graduate of St. Francis Xavier University. There she earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Human Kinetics (2012; Major in Kinesiology, Minor in Biology) and a Bachelor of Education degree (2014; Elementary Generalist, Physical Education Specialist). She taught elementary physical education (two terms) and grade Primary/1 (one term) before participating in the Belize field experience. She is currently a primary teacher in Upminster, England. Rebecca plans on pursuing graduate studies, by enrolling in a Master of Education program, in the near future.



Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski University of British Columbia

ABSTRACT Professional development for teacher educators must recognize and account for how aspects of our pedagogies often run counter to institutional, managerial, and bureaucratic demands. We need professional development that nurtures our minds, hearts, and spirits, and that is congruent with our values. In this paper, three teacher educators who co-teach an intensive, interdisciplinary, inquiry-based semester in a secondary teacher education program, explore how collaborative approaches to narrative forms of inquiry and reflexive analysis supported them to enact their learning, as well as helped them to surface the situated, complex, and emergent aspects of their own—as well as their students’—identities.

Introduction

I

n this paper, we three teacher educators, all at varied stages of our pre-tenure journey, share a collaborative self-study based in writing about tensions in our work. Through attending to, sharing, and supporting one another via conversations and writing, we identified “telling moments,” wrote together, and responded to one another’s writing. Consequently, we created and sustained a needed container for sharing our emotions and vulnerabilities, while gaining new perspectives and considering new questions with regards to our experiences.


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski As we move towards collaborative, interdisciplinary, critical, and inquiry-oriented teacher education programs, and K-12 pedagogy, there is a gap in understanding the professional development of teacher educators in relation to this context. Teacher educators must negotiate and co-create similarly meaningful points of reference for our learning and development within which we reflect on and extend our understandings. What’s more, professional development for teacher educators must recognize and account for how aspects of our pedagogies often run counter to institutional, managerial, and bureaucratic demands. We need professional development that nurtures our minds, hearts, and spirits, and that is congruent with our values. We seek to better align our practice with our scholarship by exploring how we embody the theoretical and pedagogic frames through which we invite our teacher candidates to learn.

Arriving at the Focus and Purpose of This Research The purpose of this self-study was to explore our experiences with the process of nurturing critical reflection and reflexivity in teacher candidates, as a key aspect of learning within the first semester of a teacher education program grounded in casebased collaborative inquiry. By sharing our own writing and narrative reconstructions inspired by “telling moments” in our teaching, we revealed and examined our own reflexive processes in relation to our seeking to nurture the same in our teacher candidates. In this way, we rendered visible “telling” tensions at the heart of our experiences, and depicted our evolving and shifting ways of making sense. We were interested in understanding our experiences and learning from the first semester of our Secondary Teacher Education Program, which was an intensive, interdisciplinary, inquiry-based course that we were newly revising and actively co-constructing with colleagues. We crafted a three-day orientation, which introduced teacher candidates to the collaborative, inquiry-oriented nature of the course and contextualized its aims within the educational landscape. We did this through introducing students to overarching questions, engaging in community-building activities, taking up the work of 11 educational thinkers, and foregrounding the inextricable nature of the personal and the social in teaching and learning (Brookfield, 1995; Leggo, 2008b; Palmer, 2007). These aspects of the program were informed by our beliefs, readings, actions, and interactions—and the tensions that arose as we worked towards our explicit and implicit curricular goals. Over this term and the following year we used writing, conversation, and analysis of our narratives to deepen our understandings of how our identities and relationship to our practice—and one another—are continuously emergent and co-created. 234 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry

Grounding Our Inquiry As researcher-practitioners, how we conceptualize our research and practice are continuously informing one another. Given that we understand practice as research and research as practice, here we engage with the thinkers with whom we invited our students to engage during the orientation and semester. For example, thinkers such as Meyer (2008) and Brookfield (1995, 2006) helped us to explore reflective practice as we engaged teacher candidates in activities, readings, discussions, and dialogues related to teaching as lived inquiry (Meyer, 2008, 2010). Similarly, we introduced Brookfield’s four lenses—autobiography, students, colleagues, and theory—as a framework to help teacher candidates appreciate the complexity and diversity of how teaching and learning can be perceived and enacted. This assisted us to de-center the authority of teacher and transmission-oriented pedagogy towards a more empathetic and responsive approach to being as a teacher. We drew from these same thinkers in terms of researching our experiences as sites of learning and knowledge. For example, thinkers such as Archibald (2008), Cajete (1999), Miller (2007), and Leggo (2005) helped us to make space for diverse ways of knowing and learning through stories and emotion in order to trouble and extend our notions of education, teaching, and learning. Similarly, we used narrative, autobiography, and body/emotion to explore and surface our pedagogies and processes of identity development. Miller suggests that we challenge transmissive and transactional approaches to teaching in favor of more holistic and transformational pedagogies and conceptions. Leggo helped us attend to language and value our stories as sites of knowing and becoming. Archibald and Cajete offer us Indigenous perspectives of knowing and learning that emphasize how we must look within, find the roots of our experiences and share our stories, difficult as they may be, to locate what we value regarding education. This inquiry for us as teacher educators involved identifying and writing about our experiences, with the aim of sharing and learning together from our stories. Collaborative narrative inquiry is our professional development. Our theoretical framework draws heavily on a socio-constructivist lens; meaning we understand relationship as the site of learning. Self-study researchers Berry and Loughran (2002) write, “accepting responsibility for, and genuinely caring about, the interpersonal relationships embedded in teaching is important in a pedagogy of teacher education, where there is a necessary synergy of learning between teacher educator and student teacher” (p. 27). Noddings (2002), Aoki (2005), and Kessler (2000) helped us to consider and explore relationality, presence, and the ethic of care as we worked to develop community and make sense of collaborative practice. The notion that we “co-author” identities (Nakkula & Toshalis, 2006) with one another, our teacher


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski candidates, and educational thinkers supported the theorizing of our professional development. Spanning this theoretical framework, our work with the teacher candidates, and our collaborative self-study, is an attempt to move from curriculum that ignores experience, emotion, and complexities of relationships in the service of efficiency and predetermined outcomes, towards an empathetic and responsive approach to being an educator. Thus, we draw on these diverse educational theorists to help us articulate and make sense of our experiences within this relational pedagogical context. With our students, we make up overlapping communities of practice and inquiry within which we learn. To make sense of this ongoing interplay, we conceive our identities, learning, and knowledge as situated, relational, and constituted through shared actions, language, and social processes (Bakhtin, 1981; Lave & Wenger, 1991; Varela, Thompson, & Rosch, 1991). With this in mind, knowledge is a collective, embodied and situated activity. We cannot separate how we are coming to know from what we are coming to know. If we take as true that researching teacher learning and teacher education are similarly complex, we need to study and consider teacher educator professional development as such.

Methodology Self-study scholarship (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 1998; LaBoskey, 2004) focuses on the experiences of teacher educators and their learning. Across the literature pertaining to self-study, teacher educators engage in cycles of action and reflection through situated inquiry. Self-study uses a mix of qualitative methods that enable the researcher to develop a more complex portrait and analysis of their experience. For this study, we inquired into our assumptions about our teaching and learning and our roles as teacher educators through writing narratives. To support our writing process we ensured we were in a space conducive to meeting and sharing freely; developed a sense of hospitality for our meetings; and checked in with each other about other aspects of our work and lives to create personal connections. This also helped to create the safe container that we needed to become vulnerable enough to ourselves and to each other to write honest and authentic narratives of our personal professional experiences. In line with our socio-constructivist orientation, Berry (2004) reminds us that, “the ‘self’ in self-study encompasses a more diverse variety of selves than the teacher educator alone…collaborative conversations with the ‘selves’ who are colleagues may serve as the starting point for the study of teaching about teaching” (p. 1311). Noticing this intermingling of “selves” as we explored our experiences became an important element in how we saw themes emerging from our narratives and rendered more visible the complexity of our teaching and learning. 236 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry Similarly, within the literature on teacher inquiry (Cochran-Smith & Lytle, 2009; Jaworski, 2006; Nelson & Slavit, 2008; Schnellert & Butler, 2014), the roles of critical reflection and reflexivity appear as antidotes to cycles of inquiry where teachers do not challenge their assumptions. Teaching and learning are processes bound by historical and social practices, and we need to better “describe the history of the script set within which the teacher is busily improvising and performing” (Willinsky, 1989, p. 252) in order to better represent the systems and factors at play. In so doing, we might be able to move away from the common scripts of teaching and teacher education. Pillow (2003) argues for a move away from comfortable uses of reflexivity to what she terms “uncomfortable reflexive practices” (p. 175), so that reflexivity is not taken up as a way to fix or reify oneself and others, or to find a transcendent “truth.” She suggests, “practicing uncomfortable reflexivity interrupts uses of reflexivity as a methodological tool to get better data while forefronting the complexities of doing engaged qualitative research” (p. 175). Wolgemuth and Donohue’s (2006) “inquiry of discomfort” has meaning here. They say, “the aim of an inquiry of discomfort is to identify and promote an intentional and conscious shift from dualistic, categorical, and entrenched positionality to a more ambiguous engagement with social reality” (p. 1024). We sought to develop our capacity to engage reflexively within our collaborative inquiry.

Teacher Educator Inquiry Through Collaborative Writing Many have emphasized the significance and power of autobiographical writing in self-studies of educational practice (Chambers, Hesebe-Ludt, Leggo, & Sinner, 2012; Cole & Knowles, 2000; Mitchell, Weber, & O’Reilly-Scanlon, 2005). We wrote and shared “telling moments” in our practice to understand what matters most to us and what meaning this held. We asked: what moments in our teaching “stopped” us? Writing on this simple question invariably opened pathways into intriguing, consternating, painful, and memorable stories from our recent experiences with teacher candidates and one another. By “storying” the emotional and felt sense of our experiences—by giving language and voice to what matters to us in this way—we surfaced and shared complexities inherent in embodying and enacting our commitments as teacher educators within a particular context. Speaking of the practice of life writing, Chambers and colleagues (2012) say that individual pieces of creative non-fiction are based on the author’s first person experiences of coming to understand what matters most to them (and others), what sustains them (and others) and the places they inhabit, and what they have given their hearts to. (p. xx)


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski In inquiring through writing, we illuminated the complexity of our relationships with ourselves, our teacher candidates, our colleagues, and how we relate to, remember, and experience pedagogic encounters. In inviting others to reflect on our pedagogic performance within the scripts and sets of our classroom (Willinsky, 1989), we gained new perspectives and explored tensions between what it means to perform our pedagogies versus what it means to co-author (Nakkula & Toshalis, 2006) and experience our identities as emergent phenomena. Likewise, we wrote about these moments to support one another to learn through the challenges in our practice, and to build our capacity to respond and also relate to teacher candidates in more layered, nuanced, and emergent ways. We wanted to strengthen our capacity for shared risk-taking, vulnerability, and open-hearted connection as a foundation for our learning and our pedagogical process, recognizing that defensiveness, disengagement or anxious overperformance emerge when we feel isolated or threatened. By writing collaboratively we deepened our own teaching presence (Kessler, 2000) through the knowledge that we were not alone as we experienced the ups and downs and tensions of enacting our pedagogies, and tracked the ripples and reverberations which we call learning in a community of inquiry. Engaging in writing as inquiry was both the method for exploring the experience of being a teacher educator, as well as an embodiment of our beliefs in teacher education as reflexive collaborative inquiry. Cole and Knowles (2000) address the autobiographical nature of teaching and the impossibility of separating knowledge from the knower. They propose that “when practice and practical action are recognized as an embodiment and expression of theory, teachers are, by extension, recognized as theory builders” (p. 9). Chambers et al. (2012) say that life writing can be understood “as a theorizing approach to educational inquiry and a method for it, a curricular and pedagogical practice” (p. xix). By collaboratively writing about our practices and responses, and reflexively engaging with our situation as co-authors rather than just as performers, we strengthened our capacity for coherent and integrated theory-building in relation to our program. Our data consisted of retrospectively identified “telling moments.” After the summer semester, we met six times to explore key experiences and interactions that had a lasting emotional impact. In this paper these “telling moments” were influenced by Applebaum (1995) and Fels and Belliveau’s (2008) “stop moments” and Routman’s notion of using “telling details” (2000) in stories. We spent the first 20-30 minutes of each meeting writing our telling moments. Then, we read our narratives out loud and responded to each other’s writing—sharing themes we heard, posing questions, adding our own recollections, and suggesting possible interpretations. 238 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry This process allowed us to investigate tensions in our teaching (Berry, 2004) as we negotiated our practices in relation. This inquiry process is at the heart of how we have come to understand and engage in our professional development. It enabled us to ground, embody, and co-author our identities through critically reflexive methods. In the following section each of us “take up” a telling moment.

Sabre’s Telling Moment “What are ways that you soothe your own fears?” Pamela asked me after she heard me read my telling moment about my visit with Sean. This is my first experience of reflecting with colleagues about my practice, and certainly the first time that I’ve reflected in a group about what works—but also what worries me, scares me, and, after her prompt, about the ways that I soothe myself as I work through these insecurities as part of my ongoing learning as a university teacher. I’m nervous about sharing too much with my colleagues, and find myself wondering how I challenge myself to take the risk of being more authentic in my learning, a risk that I’m asking of my students. Sean had come to see me to talk about difficulties that he was experiencing with his group. I sensed that there was more going on for him, and I decided to see if he wanted to talk about what was worrying him. After we talked a bit about his concerns with his group project, I shared, “I understand what you’re saying, Sean, I sometimes have a hard time working as part of a group. Even if I really value collaborating, I sometimes get frustrated and angry with the process that doesn’t always seem to be one that I can control.” We talked some more about how we both have put a lot of our time and energy into competitive sports and that we sometimes wish that group work would happen the way practices do: with coaches giving the general play and the players working together to execute the play. We laughed about how sports don’t always translate to real life and how the work in this program was different than what he’d expected. I confessed, “You know, Sean, I started this summer with some of the same worries as you, because I had never worked with a group of teachers to figure out our way together. We’ve been working together to develop and offer this course. It’s been hard for me to give up my need to know how it’ll work out and to go with the flow more as the learning emerges. It’s been scary for me.” We talked further and he seemed relieved to learn that, although he still felt worried about how to work with his group, others shared these same feelings. He left my office with a more relaxed smile. After he left, I remember wondering if I shared too much of myself with him. As I recounted my moment with Leyton and Pamela, I experienced the same worry, namely: “Am I sharing too much of my personal thoughts and feelings with them?” There is comfort, for me, in hiding from the personal, even though that is what I value


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski deeply as a teacher—engaging with students in a personally meaningful way. Pamela’s prompt is uncomfortable for me, and it’s also what I most crave in my work—chances for personal growth through my work in the community. What I am starting to notice as I engage in these writing and reflecting sessions with my partners is that I sometimes resist the opportunity to become fully present and open to who I am and who I may become as a teacher, even though I encourage students to tune in to their inner world as an essential part of their journey towards becoming teachers. Pamela’s question reminds me to be as patient with myself as I am with my students, as I learn new ways of reflecting on and revealing my authenticity, first to myself and then to her and Leyton. As a teacher educator, I aim to create a community where students feel safe to explore their inner lives—both the light and the shadow sides (Palmer, 2007)—as part of the learning process of negotiating an emerging professional identity, and, also as a way to reflect on their role and influence in the interconnected relationships that make up our classrooms and communities (Starratt, 2005). Talking with Sean awakened me to his fears, worries, and insecurities. As I honored these feelings through listening and sharing with him, I was able to create a space for him to work his way toward greater understanding about himself. This quality of presence (Kessler, 2000) attained through listening awakened in me a sense of my own vulnerability and insecurities, and created the space for sharing these common emotions with a student. Palmer (2007) describes how, (I)f we want to grow as teachers—we must do something alien to academic culture: we must talk to each other about our inner lives—risky stuff in a profession that fears the personal and seeks safety in the technical, the distant, the abstract. (p. x) As I reflected with my colleagues about the challenges of integrating mind, heart, and body in the community at an institution that values individualistic pursuits of measurable outcomes (Palmer & Zajonc, 2012), I noticed that the collaborative selfstudy offered me community for talking about the role of the inner life in my work, something that both challenged me and provided a safe space for me to uncover some of my own beliefs, desires, conflicts, and understandings.

Pamela’s Telling Moment

Sidney was vibrating on the edge of her seat. Her twinkling eyes locked to mine.

“Maybe you would like to co-lead the next session, Sidney?” I smiled at her acknowledging that I could see her excitement even though she had not spoken up. 240 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry

“Yes!” She nodded rapidly.

The teacher candidates had suggested that they lead the next debrief session. Eric had already volunteered and now Sidney would be co-leading with him. Because the seminar debrief time was so valuable and I wanted it to go well, I did not want to give over control of it just yet. However, I wanted to support the group’s desire to take it on and was pleased that Sidney, who was very quiet in the group, wanted to step forward. So, I agreed. The next debrief session was not the easiest one to facilitate. It followed a student-run seminar that did not go particularly well, and an honest conversation was needed. Sidney and Eric had prepared a process for debriefing similar to what we usually did with a mix of written reflection, discussion, and questions. Instead of a lively conversation though, we progressed in a stilted and superficial manner for 20 minutes. The students who usually spoke up did not say much. Throughout, I watched and waited, working hard to not jump in and take back the facilitator role. Time moved slowly. People fidgeted. Sidney started to look discouraged. Eric had his usual cheerful face but I could tell he felt awkward. Well, at least they can tell it’s not going well, which is more than I can say about the students whose session was being debriefed. Thom, who had led the seminar, expanded on why he had approached it in a transmissive lecture style. Michael who had also been part of the seminar group was offering only short comments, as was Megan. Rather than unpacking, questioning, and building on what had occurred in the struggling seminar, the debrief session was helping to reinforce their approach. Roberta kept looking at me, but saying nothing. Was she thinking, “Do your job?” I wondered. I felt uneasy, but kept smiling back, urging her to speak up. Facilitation by telepathy? “Sidney and Eric, do you mind if I offer something?” I finally asked. They looked as relieved as I felt that I was taking back control.

“So, what is happening here? What do you notice?” I queried.

I told the group how the conversation felt stilted to me, and offered that conversations feel stilted sometimes when something needs to be said but no one is saying it. I had barely finished my sentence when Roberta dove in with intensity. It was the first


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski counter-offering to the upbeat story that was being woven about the struggling seminar. More members started contributing. Some people spoke about how they had not understood the purpose of the seminar or what they were supposed to take from it. They were working to frame what they were saying in tactful, yet honest, terms. They validated risks that had been taken by the seminar leaders. Michael spoke up and said that as one of the seminar leaders the critique fit how he had felt, but had not been able to say so. “We value being able to see what happens when we try something risky that does not quite succeed,” someone said.

“That is what we are here for,” said another.

There now was emotion flowing in the group.

“Thank you, everyone.” I said. “We are having a tougher conversation than we had initially been having and you are all doing really well. Now… we just need to debrief our debrief session!” We all laughed. “What was it like for you to facilitate?” I asked Sidney and Eric. “What did you notice? What did it feel like?” “We prepared in advance,” Sidney emphasized. “But despite this I was not sure what to do at times and how much to probe or question.”

A few agreed that as the instructor, I should be the one doing this.

I felt a tinge of disappointment. Did they think I had abdicated? Why did I not follow my instincts? At the end, someone offered that speaking truthfully was harder in some ways, but it felt like we were now closer as a group than before. As the group ended and students were collecting themselves and their belongings, James and I made eye contact. “Whew!” he said. “That was hard. But good.” At one of our first writing sessions, Leyton asked me “so, what is your pedagogy?” While this is a question I hope to never answer with finality, at the core will always be the desire to open to the “momentousness of each moment” (Leggo, 2008a, p. 168) and engage creatively in life and learning encounters. I am learning how dwelling with a diversity of perspectives on “what is” constitutes powerful teaching. This includes 242 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry leaning gently into the quieter moments and sensing what is below the surface of a situation. I believe like Aoki (2005) that we need to set aside these layers that press upon us and move to indwell in the earthy place where we experience daily life with our colleagues and teacher candidates, and begin our search for the “isness” of teaching, for the being of teaching. (p. 190) So, I track moments as they occur and through simple questions invite students to build their capacity for awareness and share their perspectives. I ask: What is happening here? What does it feel like? What do you notice? This opening to diverse perspectives around a moment surfaces the authentic complexity of learning in community. Poet Robert Bringhurst (2007) borrows the musical term “polyphony” (meaning many voices in co-existence) to describe this state: he maintains that polyphony is the natural order of things and that we need not create this state, but rather attend and become aware of it. This he says is “dancing in tune with being.” Aoki (2005) says: “Let us beckon these voices to speak to us, particularly the silent ones, so that we may awaken to the truer sense of teaching that likely stirs within each of us” (p. 188). This capacity to attend to the diverse perspectives and voices within ourselves and within a group experience enables us to lean into—rather than shut down or shy away from—the complexity that dwells at the heart of teaching and learning. I seek to build community through this process of consciously co-constructed awareness of the “isness” of difference and diversity.

Leyton’s Telling Moment “Dr. Schnellert, can I talk to you?” Bailey tentatively sat down in my overstuffed office. “Thanks for The Art of Racing in the Rain. I got started on it” she shared.

“How was your weekend?” I asked.

“I’m starting to get used to the bus route—I’ve been here a week now—but I still can’t figure out which way east and west are. I did more reading for the case and I really think that Liam needs some better friends. He is attaching to the wrong people,” Bailey shared. “Interesting insight, Bailey. Have you shared this with your group?” I hinted with my voice. When I received a concerned look back. I asked, “How is your group doing with the case?”


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski Her eyebrows shot up. “Well…” she slowly intoned “there are definitely some strong voices. I’m a lot different, I like to think and write about my thoughts before I share them.” She opened her Commonplace Book to a page filled with beautiful handwriting.

“Are you offering up these ideas?” I inquired.

“I have tried a couple times, but I am shy and get anxious when everyone looks at me, waiting. I just finished my History degree before coming to this program; we did not have this kind of group work!” I pondered how to tackle this. Stan, Janice, Trina, China, and Mindy had already been in for conferences. Each had shared that they were frustrated with working as part of an eightperson case team. In his conference Stan self-identified as an introvert, which surprised me considering he spoke the most in group conversations. Trina, also new to town, had shared a “power of introverts” YouTube clip with the group, and thus far each member of this case team had worked into their conference with me that they were introverts and that group work was not a good match for their learning style. I found the group was testing my belief in collaborative inquiry. In planning this course I had advocated for case teams and assured my colleagues that after a couple days of guidance from us the groups would be functioning inquiry communities. Yet, my group appeared to be flailing and Bailey seemed truly frozen by the situation and how the group functioned. I kept up a brave front with the instructional team and teacher candidates, but each day during that first week I drove home with Pamela and confessed my doubts. On Friday I checked in with the group to offer tips. “Like you suggested to us on Friday, I set a goal for myself. I have decided to speak up more and be heard,” Bailey declared with a tentative confidence. “I am going to share my ideas. I have done a lot of reading and think we need to go back to the Stengle article.” Could Bailey make her voice heard? I managed to not offer more suggestions or direct her efforts.

Instead, I asked, “How can I help?”

“Nothing right now,” said Bailey. “We all need to develop collaboration skills. This is going to be hard for me, but I have a goal and a plan.” Determined, she headed out of my office. Meeting to brainstorm, draft, share, and discuss my telling moments with Sabre and Pamela helped me to uncover the above moment, and also discover a key instance where my practice was responsive but also supported emergence. During the summer 244 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry I worried constantly about how this case group struggled with collaboration. I had tried to solve the group dynamic issue, but then they became other-directed, deferring responsibility to me. Reflecting back on telling moments from the summer helped me to identify when and how I made space for Bailey to take ownership of her learning. This recollection sent me back to the teacher candidates’ interview transcripts. Rereading the transcripts from Bailey and her case team members’ interviews, I noted that each felt they had developed an appreciation for, and skills related to, collaboration during their turbulent summer. Bailey reported that she successfully drew from this experience in her practicum and sought out opportunities to co-plan, co-teach, and co-reflect with colleagues. Taking the time to sit down, write, and share this moment helped me to recall that Bailey had set her own goals and how, in this instance, I had stopped offering suggestions and let her determine how she would address the challenge, making space for her to be a learning professional. Our collaborative self-study writing process helped me attend to and embrace moments where I balanced responsiveness and relationality with letting go of control within my teaching self. A teaching identity is under constant construction, deconstruction, and repair (Britzman, 2003). Rediscovering moments where I engaged students in co-constructing the curriculum and their practice drew my attention back to the relational and emergent aspects of knowledge construction (Ellsworth, 1997; Lather, 2001). Taking the time to identify and inquire into this “telling moment” helped me to reground myself in my commitment to creating spaces where teacher candidates can develop rich understandings and practices as collaborative colleagues. The course we created required collaborative inquiry and critical reflection. Looking back, I realized that I was struggling to let the teacher candidates forge understandings and practices because I inserted myself into their group to “help” them solve their problem. Through self-study, my colleagues and the teacher candidates helped me to become more aware of the inevitable hierarchy and power relations I am privileged with as a teacher educator. Working with Sabre and Pamela helped me to step back and find a moment in my summer teaching where my actions and beliefs aligned. As a result, I have renewed my commitment to embracing and nurturing agency within teacher candidates, thus allowing them forge their teacher identities through collaboration and living inquiry. As educators we are proscribed within social, cultural, and political discourses from which we will never fully be free, but slowing down and inquiring into what this moment wanted to tell me regrounded me in the potential of deep listening, and also that of these learning professionals as authors of their own practice, learning, and identities.


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski

What Did We Learn? Reflecting on our narratives, certain themes begin to emerge. We recognize the parallels between the needs and supports shared by teacher candidates and teacher educators. Seeking to control outcomes and manage the learning experience for self and others to mitigate against unfavorable impressions was a common theme. Sharing our stories made visible our efforts to enact the desires that guide our practice; for instance, we cultivated a space for emotion and intuition as part of learning for ourselves and for our students. Sharing our narratives helped us to become more conscious of how we value emotion and intuition in our pedagogies. We discovered that making space for emotion is foundational to our ability to collaborate and co-author. We found that paying attention to what arises in the moment in relation to our context, others, and ourselves underlies much of our learning. Finally, collaboratively deconstructing our work helped us to identify how we perform and negotiate power relations. We gained insight into how we are taking up, countering, and co-authoring new institutional narratives as part of the process of self-study. Through our collaborative writing and reflecting we can see how this catalyzed our learning and growth. Given this we have a new investment in, and willingness to pursue, collaboration in the future. In being willing to reveal and relate through our more emotional and vulnerable selves—to show our light and shadow sides, dwell with unknowing and inarticulateness, dance more consciously with issues of power and control—we gain awareness of how our identities are forged through processing together these visceral encounters. Thus, we become more highly attuned to how our learning and development as teacher educators is held within and experienced through our particular co-constructed situations, our shared texts and narratives, and our willingness to give voice to our emergent perspectives. We need each other to point out those aspects that alone, are hard for us to notice. We also need each other for mutual support in accepting our imperfections. We also help each other debrief difficult situations where we are at risk of abandoning our pedagogy for efficiency and status quo expectations. We dwell in relational dimensions of teaching and learning in ways that are not typically recognized in the academy. “Stories present possibilities for understanding the complex, mysterious, even ineffable experiences that compose human living” (Chambers et al., 2012, p. xx). This work takes time. It exposes you. It is of the body and the emotional realms. It inverts hierarchies that place rationality as supreme and the messiness of emotion and relationship as less worthy. Self-study is both a research and professional development method that makes space for teacher educators in the research-intensive academy to choose not to surrender teacher ways of knowing and theorizing (Hamilton, 2004). Collaborative narrative 246 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry inquiry offers a way to locate, examine, and interpret tensions between philosophy and practice. Slowing down and paying attention to our “telling moments” helps us to see how collaborative writing and engaging with theory helps us learn and nurtures reflexivity. Through writing, reflecting on, and sharing aspects of our practice with teacher candidates and colleagues, we are revealing theory-practice dynamics for purposes of self-awareness and self-improvement. Finally, ongoing inquiry challenges ill-fitting aspects of self- and other-imposed expectations, restoring aspects of our identities that get undermined by external and internal forces. Through inquiry into our practice we can bridge the theoretical and pedagogical, which is what we expect of teacher candidates. We are learning to attend to and embrace uncertainly and revisit and dwell in moments of tension, anxiety, and disruption. Doing this in community is both nourishing and challenging, as it helps us to acknowledge and learn from the complexity of our experiences. Reflexive inquiry helps us re-engage with significant educational thinkers and opens us to conversations (Cole & Knowles, 2000). Reflexive practitioner inquiry is generative; we are becoming more responsive as we co-construct our pedagogy. Within nested communities of inquiry, we can ensure those facets of identity vital to the professional development of our teacher candidates, are likewise being nurtured within ourselves.

References Aoki. T. (2005). Layered voices of teaching: The uncannily correct and the elusively true. In S. Pinar & R. Irwin (Eds.), Curriculum in a new key: the collected works of Ted Aoki (pp. 185–197). Appelbaum, D. (1995). The stop. Albany: State University of New York Press. Archibald, J. (2008). Indigenous storywork: educating the heart, mind, body, and spirit. Vancouver, BC, Canada: UBC Press. Bakhtin, M. M. (1981). The dialogic imagination: four essays. M. Holquist, Ed. (C. Emerson & M. Holquist, Trans.). Texas: University of Texas Press. Berry, A. (2004). Self study in teaching about teaching. In J.J. Loughran, M.L Hamilton, V.K. LaBoskey & T. Russell (Eds.), International

handbook of self-study of teaching and teacher education practices (pp. 1295–1332). Dordrecht The Netherlands: Springer. Berry, A., & Loughran, J.J. (2002). Developing an understanding of learning to teach in teacher education. In J. J. Loughran & T. Russell (Eds.) Improving teacher education practices through self-study (pp. 13–29). London: RoutledgeFalmer. Bringhurst, R. (2007). Everywhere being is dancing. Kentville, Canada: Gaspereau Press. Britzman, D. (2003). Practice makes practice: A critical study of learning to teach (Rev. Ed.). Albany: State University of New York Press. Brookfield, S.D. (1995). Becoming a critically reflective teacher. San Francisco: Jossey


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski Brookfield, S.D. (2006). The skillful teacher: on technique, trust and responsiveness in the classroom. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Bass.

of self-study of teaching and teacher education practices (pp. 817–869). Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Springer.

Cajete, G. (1999). Look to the mountain: An ecology of Indigenous education. Skyland, NC: Kivaki Press.

Lather, P. (2001). Validity as an incitement to discourse: Qualitative research and the crisis of legitimation. In V. Richardson (Ed.), Handbook of research on teaching (4th ed.). Washington, DC: American Educational Research Association.

Chambers, C., Hesebe-Ludt, E., Leggo, C., & Sinner, A. (2012). Life writing and literary métissage as an ethos for our times. New York: Peter Lang. Cochran-Smith, M., & Lytle, S.L. (2009). Inquiry as stance: practitioner research in the next generation. New York: Teachers College Press. Cole, A. L., & Knowles, J. G. (2000). Researching teaching: exploring teacher development through reflexive inquiry. Needham Heights, MA: Allyn & Bacon. Ellsworth, E. (1997). Teaching positions: Difference, pedagogy, and the power of address. New York: Teachers College Press. Fels, L., & Belliveau, G. (2008). Exploring curriculum: performative inquiry, role drama and learning. Vancouver, BC: Pacific Education Press. Hamilton, M. (2004). Professional knowledge, teacher education and self-study. International Handbook of Self-Study of Teaching and Teacher Education Practices (pp. 375–419). Norwell, MA: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Hamilton, M.L., & Pinnegar, S. (1998). Reconceptualizing teaching practices: Selfstudy in teacher education. New York: Falmer Press. Jaworski, B. (2006). Theory and practice in mathematics teaching development: Critical Inquiry as a mode of learning and teaching. Journal of Mathematics Teacher Education, 9, 187–211. Kessler, R. (2000). The soul of education: helping students find connection, compassion, and character at school. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. LaBoskey, V.K. (2004). The methodology of selfstudy and its theoretical underpinnings. In J.J. Loughran, M.L Hamilton, V.K. LaBoskey, & T. Russell (Eds.), International handbook

Lave, J., & Wenger, E. (1991). Situated learning: Legitimate peripheral participation. Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press. Leggo, C. (2005). The heart of pedagogy: on poetic knowing and living. Teachers and teaching: theory and practice, Vol. 11, No. 5, 439–455. Leggo, C. (2008a). Astonishing silence: Knowing in poetry. In A. L. Cole & J. G. Knowles (Eds.), Handbook of the arts in qualitative social science research (pp. 165–174). Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications. Leggo, C. (2008b). The ecology of personal and professional experience: A poet’s view. In M. Cahnmann-Taylor & R. Siegesmund (Eds.), Arts-based research in education: Foundations for practice (pp. 89–97). New York: Routledge. Meyer, K. (2008). Teaching practices of living inquiry. Paper presented at the Canadian Social Sciences of Education Conference (CSSE), May 30-June 2, 2008, Vancouver, BC: University of British Columbia. Meyer, K. (2010). Living inquiry: me, my self, and other. Journal of Curriculum Theorizing, 26(1), 85–96. Miller, J. (2007). The holistic curriculum (2nd ed.). Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Mitchell, C., Weber, S., & O’Reilly-Scanlon, K. (2005). Just who do we think we are?: Methodologies for autobiography and self-studying teaching. New York: Routledge-Farmer. Nakkula, M.J., & Toshalis, E. (2006). Understanding youth: Adolescent development for educators. Boston: Harvard University Press. Nelson, T.H., & Slavit, D. (2008). Supported teacher collaborative inquiry. Teacher Education Quarterly, 35(1), 99–116.


Teacher Educator Professional Development as Reflexive Inquiry Noddings, N. (2002). The challenge to care: An alternative approach to education. New York: Teachers College Press. Palmer, P. (2007). The courage to teach: Exploring the inner landscape of a teacher’s life. (2nd ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Palmer, P., & Zajonc, A. (2010). The heart of higher education: The call to renewal. Transforming the academy through collegial conversations. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Pillow, W. (2003). Confession, catharsis, or cure? rethinking the uses of reflexivity as methodological power in qualitative research. Qualitative Studies in Education, 16(2), 175–196.

Starratt, R.J. (2005). Cultivating the moral character of learning and teaching: A neglected dimension of educational leadership. School Leadership and Management, 25(4), 399–411. Varela, F. J., Thompson, E., & Rosch, E. (1991). The embodied mind: Cognitive science and human experience. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Willinsky, J. (1989). Getting personal and practical with personal practical knowledge. Curriculum Inquiry, 79(3), 247–264. Wolgemuth, J.R., & Donohue, R. (2006). Toward an inquiry of discomfort: guiding transformation in “emancipatory” narrative research. Qualitative Inquiry, 12(5), 1012–1021.

Routman, R. (2000). Conversations. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann. Schnellert, L., & Butler, D.L. (2014). Collaborative inquiry: Empowering teachers in their professional development. Education Canada, 54(5), 42–44.


Leyton Schnellert, Pamela Richardson, and Sabre Cherkowski

Leyton Schnellert has been a middle and secondary school classroom teacher and learning resource teacher for K–12. Leyton is an Assistant Professor in the Faculty of Education at The University of British Columbia - Okanagan. His teaching and research are in the areas of inclusive education, professional development, literacy, self-regulated learning, and rural education. Leyton has co-authored several books with and for educators including, Student Diversity, It’s All About Thinking, and Pulling Together.

Pamela Richardson

is an Instructor in the Faculty of Education at the University of British Columbia - Okanagan where she teaches courses in the areas of Special and Inclusive Education. Her research focus is on critical and post-structural approaches to understanding human development and exceptionality, and includes interpretive and arts-based methods. She completed a literary arts-based PhD in Special Education at the University of British Columbia in 2010.

Sabre Cherkowski

is an Assistant Professor in the Faculty of Education at University of British Columbia - Okanagan. She teaches and researches in the areas of educational leadership, teacher development, and diversity and education. She is currently researching organizational culture and climate from a positive perspective, with a focus on flourishing in schools.


Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking Manu Sharma, University of Windsor John P. Portelli, University of Toronto

ABSTRACT In our neoliberal context, the field of teacher education faces many challenges and tensions. One crucial challenge that arises deals with the tensions of deficit thinking. Regrettably, these tensions are often left unaddressed due to the demanding subjectbased curriculum learning approach in most Bachelor of Education programs. This paper1 examines why deficit thinking, particularly toward “inner-city students,” is ethically problematic and inconsistent with creating true democratic education possibilities. This key question is addressed in this paper in four parts: (1) the connection between neoliberalism and public education, (2) the meaning and forms of deficit thinking with respect to teaching, (3) ethical implications of deficit thinking on students’ public school experiences, and (4) a call for a genuine democratic education in teacher education.

Introduction

I

t was on a crisp fall day after school when I decided that I would try out for my elementary school’s basketball team. I arrived excited and ready to play my very best, until a sideline remark came from my gym teacher. Making no eye contact, having no intonation in her voice, barely noticing me, she briefly said; “your people won’t allow you to be on a school team. Why don’t you just go home and learn how to cook some samosas as that will be useful to you in the future—and bring me some tomorrow.” I could not believe what I had heard. I felt a surge of strong emotions come through me, yet simultaneously my


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli mind was confused and I felt the world stop. I felt my heart tremble, eyes water, and hands lose grip of my favorite blue basketball. I came home and went straight to my room that I shared with my sisters, changed my clothes, and went straight to bed by 4 pm. It was the longest evening of deep disappointment I had experienced in the total of ten years of being in the world. At the age of ten, I blamed myself for everything: for who I was and where I had come from. However, the worst part of this sad evening was that I thought and felt that I had no way of changing any of it and it was the “way it is supposed to be.” This is a first-hand account from one of the author’s (Sharma) elementary school experiences. In retrospect, as an Indian-Canadian educator who embraces her culture and identity, she recognizes the deeply seated roots of discrimination in her fifth grade health and physical education teacher’s sideline remark. The teacher had assumed that because Sharma was Indian, she could not try out for the team. Moreover, this teacher used stereotyped perceptions of Indian culture to rationalize her decision of not allowing the author to try out. We believe that the underlying problem was not Sharma’s ability to play basketball. Rather, it was the health and physical education teacher’s deficit thinking about her racially marginalized identity that denied her access to simply try out for the team. The ethical implications of such a vivid childhood memory resonated for many years with the author, and drives this critical analysis and perspective of what grounds such narratives with respect to students’ embracing of a racially marginalized identity in a public school setting. In our neoliberal context, the field of teacher education and education in general face many challenges and tensions (Zeichner, 2009; Cochran-Smith & Zeichner, 2005; Giroux, 2004; Smyth, 2011; Down & Smyth, 2012). One such crucial challenge that arises in teacher education deals with the tensions of deficit thinking (Kincheloe, 2009; Writer & Oesterreich, 2012; Waddell, 2013; Aragon, Culpepper, McKee, & Perkins, 2014; Riojas-Cortez & Flores, 2009; Katsarou, Picower, & Stovall, 2010). Specifically: why is deficit thinking, particularly toward “inner city students2,” ethically problematic and inconsistent with creating true democratic teacher education possibilities? This is the major question tackled in this paper, which is divided into four parts: (1) the connection between neoliberalism and public education, (2) the meaning and forms of deficit thinking with respect to teaching, (3) ethical implications of deficit thinking on students’ public school experiences, and (4) a call for a genuine democratic education in teacher education.


Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking

The Connection Between Neoliberalism and Public Education Neoliberalism has come to be understood from various perspectives, each embedded in different ethical frameworks. For this paper, we use Michael Apple’s (2011) conception of neoliberalism as a marketplace ideology that has entered the public school system from a critical framework (Giroux, 1992). Neoliberal policies may be well intentioned, but their “outcomes” are negatively experienced and embodied by racially marginalized students (Darder, 2012). From the neoliberal standpoint it is in the best interest of the economy to open up educational services that market to “profit educational management skills” (Ross & Gibson, 2006). Neoliberal policies support upper- and middle-class students as they are seen to bring the most “profit” to the economy and cut down on the resources and finances allotted to public education for working-class students (Ross & Gibson, 2006): Efforts are made to reduce educational costs, often through economies of scale. Closing school libraries, reducing the number of special needs teachers, increasing class size, expanding online learning programs are examples. These actions intensify the work of teachers and isolate them from decision making and from one another. (p. 4) Neoliberal practices such as cutting back on funding for public schools are part of the reason why the status quo (which ensures social class distinctions between upper-, middle-, and lower-class communities) is perpetuated. Consequently, public education, despite being advertised as “free” or “equal” education for all, in reality becomes inaccessible to many students including those who have been traditionally marginalized due to their race, culture, and socio-economic status (Ladson-Billings, 1994; Delpit, 1995). Moreover, the quality of education that working-class students receive is inferior, because the demands put on inexperienced new teachers who make up the majority of teachers in inner-city schools (e.g., delivering standardized tests, working with large class sizes, and dealing with fewer resources) are often too overwhelming and leave no space for teachers to develop a more equitable teaching environment (Portelli, Shields, & Vibert, 2007). Thus, students from working-class families end up with lower expectations from teachers. As result, they experience fewer possibilities for their future (lower graduation rates, limited job market opportunities, low-collar jobs, and limited


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli mobility from their social class) (Ladson-Billings, 1994). As Ayers and Ford (1996) put it: “Savage inequalities in the public education available to students of different racial and class backgrounds reflect growing social and economic polarization -- and squander the potential of our youth” (p. 145). Reid’s (2005) work further supports our argument as it explains how the neoliberalism agenda to globalize and marketize education allows private corporations to capitalize on education, while decreasing the quality of education for the low socio-economic background students. Lipman (as quoted by Ross & Gibson, 2006) and Meier (2002) believe that the standardized tests, which have also been introduced by a neoliberal agenda, help increase the gap between the social classes and maintain the status quo. Anyon (1980) also claims that the job market displays the socio-economic and political disadvantage that has been placed on students who come from low socio-economic backgrounds. Keeping these key arguments in mind, in the next section we provide an understanding and analysis of the concept of “deficit thinking” as it arises from the literature, with a focus on marginalized and racialized public school students.

The Meaning and Forms of Deficit Mentality With Respect to Teaching Defining Deficit Thinking We know deficit thinking is seen and felt in many narratives, such as the one we began with, that lives in the souls of racially marginalized students. Katsarou and colleagues (2010) claim that teachers who hold deficit views of racially marginalized students often: [s]ee their students only as a laundry-list of problems, these educators are unable to look past students’ more challenging behavior, [thus] making meaningful and reciprocal relationships impossible. Unable to connect to their students, their efforts at classroom management and instruction fail, and they in turn blame their students for what has ultimately stemmed from their negative and stereotyped views for their students. (p. 139) This deficit disposition is a complicated, but often unconsciously supported nature of well-intentioned teachers falling into a trap of stereotypes about students with whom 254 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking they are unable to identify (Katsarou et al., 2010). Deficit assumptions and dispositions seem to be deeply embedded in school culture and pedagogy that are sometimes invisible but powerfully felt (Valencia, 2010). There are different ways of describing the negative effects and unethical implications that deficit thinking has, particularly on racially marginalized students. Many have argued that the neoliberal context and policies have made it easier for a deficit mentality to continue to be reproduced (Valencia, 2010; Portelli, 2010). For the sake of clarity, we will use the following characterization of deficit thinking: Deficit thinking is a very common way of thinking which affects our general way of being in and constructing the world. Differences from the ‘norm’ are immediately seen as being deprived, negative, and disadvantaged. It never questions the legitimacy of what is deemed to be normal nor does it consider that differences may actually go beyond expected norms. It discourages teachers and administrators from recognizing the positive values of certain abilities, dispositions, and actions. Deficit thinking leads to stereotyping and prejudging. It marginalizes certain people on the basis of misinformation and misconstructions. (Based on Portelli, 2010, 2013) With this characterization in mind, we analyzed and categorized the literature on deficit mentality into three different frameworks that create, sustain, and often “justify” this thinking. They are namely: pseudo-scientific, sociological/cultural, and socio-economic. While these frameworks are conceptually distinct, in practice they overlap.

The Three Frameworks of Deficit Thinking Deficit thinking created by a pseudo-scientific framework. The pseudoscientific framework for deficit thinking emerges from using scientific methodology and authority in unethical ways that often (re)produce unreliable “factual” evidence (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). “Convergent thinking”3 lies at the heart of pseudoscientism; convergent thinking often allows researchers to remain consistent with prevailing theories (e.g., Bell Curve theory and No Child Left Behind legislation [NCLB]). These “scientific” theories (i.e., IQ tests now known as standardized tests) used in schools to assess each student’s intelligence are based on unquestioned assumptions about political agendas (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). Often these theories claim the results from scientifically conducted tests and surveys are summarized and used to provide statistical “facts” that are true about racially marginalized communities (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). Teachers then use these test scores and summaries as an indicator of the potential capabilities of an individual student or a sub-cultural


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli grouping in their class. Overwhelmingly, the lowest test scores have been found in racially marginalized community children, and thus a re-stereotyping of their “low” capacity for success or them being “high risk students” is flagged (Writer & Oesterreich, 2012; Aragon, Culpepper, McKee, & Perkins, 2013). However, despite the scientific methodology used in these surveys/tests to analyze and compile the facts, the research itself is pseudo in nature (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). Critics of pseudo-science researchers argue that these “facts” are not reflective of the racially marginalized communities because they are created, processed, and analyzed with a political agenda that sustains neoliberal values (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). Thus, the questions that need to be asked about this “scientific research” are: what criteria are used to create these surveys/tests? Who is responsible for creating and delivering these surveys/tests? Who does this research benefit? How are these “facts” used to reinforce deficit assumptions about racially marginalized communities? Moreover, the contexts in which these surveys/tests are given are often not taken into consideration (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008; Shields, Bishop, & Mazawi, 2005). Deficit thinking created by a sociological-cultural framework. The sociologicalcultural framework is one that creates, sustains, and often “justifies” deficit thinking; sometimes it uses the results of the pseudo-scientific standardized tests to build stereotypical views of racially marginalized students. Aragon and colleagues (2013) articulate the former claim clearly when they state, …because teachers do not want to see Brown and Black children as being impacted by both institutional forces and individual choices, they commit the fallacy of interpreting the collective low achievement of Brown and Black children as being due to their individual lack of tenacity, hard work, or merit, which ends up being a racist belief. (p. 548) Valenzuela (1999), Garza and Crawford (2005), Yosso (2005), and Cooper (2006) also argue that deficit thinking has its roots in sociological/cultural differences. Moreover, they contend that the treatment shown by some educators towards inner-city students is presumptuous and often disrespectful. This presumptuous treatment is most visible in the interactions between teacher and students (Valenzuela, 1999). Differing curricular, pedagogical, and student evaluation practices emphasize different cognitive and behavioural skills in each social setting. Such practices contribute to the development of social identity in “behavioural,” “high risk,” “immigrant,” and “special needs” students with respect to physical and symbolic capital, authority, and the process of work, which in turn make up their social class identity (Anyon, 1980; Brown, 2010). 256 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking Interestingly, Garza and Crawford (2005) critique the diversity of students as a welcome addition to an inclusive school, which at the same time legitimizes the differences between the dominant and the “diverse” students. Garza and Crawford (2005) state that a hegemonic multiculturalism has been created as “the result of dissonance between a school’s desire to promote an inclusive and welcoming learning environment for their culturally and linguistically diverse students and [maintain a] persuasive, assimilation agenda that underlies instructional practices and programs designed to educate them” (p. 601). Thus, this “all-inclusive” approach “ultimately privileges the dominant group’s conceptualization of what diversity is and how diverse identities should be positioned and expressed…” (p. 602). The impact of such a hierarchy is then demonstrated in the teacher’s deficit-based pedagogical approach towards racially marginalized students. Deficit thinking: A socio-economical framework. The socio-economic framework demonstrates the connection between social class, economic status, and deficit thinking. Anyon (1980) defines “social class” as an outcome of three relationships: (i) the way a person relates to the process of producing goods, services, and culture in society; (ii) how one relates to the aspects of the production process through one’s own work; and, (iii) the relations one has to the system of ownership towards other people and themselves at work in society. However, the question left unanswered is: How are students’ social class identities formed and judged during their schooling process (Meier, 2002)? In order to answer this question, it is important for us to examine how students are taught and under what conditions. The teaching approach that is used when teaching working-class students is explicitly instructional and often involves rote behaviour (Meier, 2002, Nieto & Bode, 2012). Instructional and rote teaching is rooted in the deficit assumption that workingclass students are incapable of learning any applied knowledge skills or critical thinking skills (Meier, 2002). Moreover, many teachers in working-class schools “attempt to control classroom time and space by making decisions without consulting the students and without explaining the basis for their decisions” (Anyon, 1980, p. 76). As a result of this approach, knowledge skills that are required for powerful social positions (e.g., lawyers, doctors, managers) are withheld from the working class (Apple, 2011). Thus, working-class students are not given the opportunity to excel at attaining positions of social power (Apple, 2011).

Hoschschild and Scovronick (2004) also support Apple’s conclusion. They claim, [i]nequalities in family wealth are a major cause of inequalities in schooling [e.g. the physical conditions of the school, the unqualified teachers, the bias standardized


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli tests, the streaming of classes], and inequalities in schooling do much to reinforce inequalities of wealth among family in the next generation. (Hoschschild and Scovronick as cited in Books, 2004, p. 106) In other words, Hoschschild and Scovronick state that the deficit teaching approach in schools helps reinforce socio-economic inequities towards the working class. Due to having a low socio-economic class association, Gaab (2004) explains that working-class students were treated with a deficit approach because they were incapable of “success” due to their low economic status. In response to these deficit-based social policies and ideologies aimed at working-class students, neoliberalism advises to “fix” the students by creating programs (e.g., behavioural classes, special education classes, home school programs) (Gaab, 2004). Proponents [in positions of power] believed that by turning these [poor] students into useful, productive citizens [through social programs] they could eliminate the social ills of society. Unfortunately, these social programs were initiated with much indifference for the lives of the poor… (Gaab, 1993, p. 179) Due to the low level of “success” that resulted from these social programs, “a pervasive belief that the poor were beyond redemption” (p. 179) was established. Such a belief has reinforced and justified deficit thinking attitudes and practices toward workingclass students (Gaab, 1993). Pervasive and dominant deficit attitudes in respect to poor students have helped to justify the unequal distribution of money toward the education of the poor (Apple, 2011). Thus, teachers who work in inner-city schools have a high turnover rate and rightfully complain about the resources and conditions of the school (Aragon et al., 2013).

The Six Components of Deficit Thinking According to Valencia (2012) there are six aspects that describe the act of deficit thinking. For the first component Valencia uses Ryan’s (1971) phrase “blaming the victim” to explain the beginning oppressive cycle of deficit thinking. Ryan (1971) explains how people in positions of power often recognize social problems, then do a comparative study that emphasizes differences between the disadvantaged and the advantaged, and, as a result, connect the differences to the cause of social problems (Valencia, 2012). Furthermore, people in positions of power get the government to intervene and “correct” the differences (Valencia, 2012). Unfortunately, this process occurs so smoothly that it seems rational and goes unquestioned and the victims suffer (Valencia, 2012).


Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking This relationship between the victims and the victim-blamers then becomes a cycle of oppression, which is the second component of deficit thinking (Valencia, 2012). The second component of deficit thinking is a cycle of oppression which ensures that victims and the victim-blamer groups remain separate, thus allowing for deficit thinking to be seen as a rational conclusion (Valencia, 2012). The effects of the oppressive cycle help to perpetuate the pseudoscientific nature of deficit thinking, which is the third component of Valencia’s conception. Valencia (2012) claims that the pseudoscientific nature of deficit thinking is built upon assumptions of accuracy (e.g., high stake testing) and generalizations that do not logically follow from one to another (e.g., victim-blamer group accusing oppressed as the cause of social problems). This pseudo-scientific condition is based on the values of the dominant class, which then acts as the norm against which all marginalized people are compared, and therefore required to aspire (Valencia, 2012). It is because deficit thinking goes through similar motions such as the “scientific method” that it gains acceptance (as the “scientific method” is regarded as an authoritative and privileged discourse) (Valencia, 2012). This scientific method is then seen to be sufficient to ground a diagnosis of marginalized and racialized students. However, during different temporal periods, which is the fourth component of deficit thinking, the nature of the scientific argument for deficit thinking changes (Valencia, 2012). Deficit thinking is influenced by the time period in which it occurs and as a result moulds itself correspondingly (Valencia, 2012). Valencia (2012) claims the diagnosis process to be the fifth component of the deficit thinking. The diagnosis that follows can be understood as the result of a cycle that begins with educators describing the deficits, deficiencies, limitations, and shortcomings in students from low socio-economic backgrounds; then, educators explain these deficits by placing their origins in terms of genetic characteristics; finally these explanations are used to predict the perpetuation and accumulation of these very deficits. As a result, educators prescribe educational interventions designed to remedy the deficits (Valencia, 2012). The sixth component of Valencia’s (2012) form of deficit thinking is informed by heterodoxical views. Heterodoxical views are those that challenge the dominant class’s (i.e., upper-middle European class) norms or “orthodoxical” ideas on what standards should be upheld by society (Valencia, 2012). Valencia’s work in itself exposes a heterodoxical view of deficit thinking that encourages the public to re-evaluate and re-analyze the conditions of deficit thinking.


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli

Ethical Implication of Deficit Thinking on Students’ Public Schooling Experiences The Effects and Implications of the Pseudo-Scientific Framework Unquestioned assumptions rooted in pseudo-scientific methodology frequently lead to errors in the dominant discourse about teaching racially marginalized communities, and the level of learning that is possible in them (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). These errors often create, reinforce, and sustain deficit thinking assumptions about inner-city students which then become incorporated as given truths into deficit teaching practices (Valencia, 2010). Pseudo-science offers a “causal explanation of why humans act in certain ways” (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008, p. 40). Such an explanation, “inevitably involves normative and contextual components that cannot be ignored when accurately explaining individual or group behaviours. Under these conditions, claims of objectivity, reliability, and validity in human science are highly problematic” (p. 40). In other words, “scientific” causal explanations are problematic because they create norms that are developed from a study done on a particular group of people, that are then generalized to encompass everyone from that community (Hyslop-Margison & Naseem, 2008). Without being culturally sensitive, these norms set the standards to which everyone is compared and contrasted (HyslopMargison & Naseem, 2008). We wonder why these implications are not taken up in teacher education programs, in particular the nature of standardized testing and how it is utilized to further create a gap between racially marginalized students and White middle-class students. Unfortunately, the effects of these pseudo-scientific theories are deeply felt and can often remain with marginalized children for the duration of their life. Valencia (2010) states that the effects of using a pseudo-scientific methodology to diagnose deficit thinking, which aims to “describe, explain, predict and prescribe” its victim’s behaviour, has caused a stigma against “racially marginalized students”: “…[T]he effect of these interventions were primarily felt by several racially marginalized students as they were misjudged, labeled and underwent all kinds of discrimination…the long-term effects of this discrimination have shaped and influenced educational thought and practice” (Valencia, 1997, p. 7). Thus, discriminatory attitudes, actions and dispositions are held against “racially marginalized students” (Valencia, 2010). Shields and colleagues (2005) agree that the “scientific” labeling process makes students who have been labeled or who fit the label, believe it as a statement of truth. They argue that a structural/positivist form of


Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking science is seen as an authoritative voice to truth and consequently, the pathologizing process that happens to racially marginalized students is accepted as a norm and goes unchallenged (Shields et al., 2005). We urge teacher educators and teachers in the field to ethically respond to these negative (often internalized) deficit labels placed upon racially marginalized students, by critically reflecting upon the impact of such labels and stereotypes on their students. We agree with Katsarou and colleagues (2010) who state that deficit thinking can only be interrupted when teachers acknowledge that, by looking simply at the statistics of test results, the whole child is not being seen. Moreover, Katsarou et al. (2010) conclude, “[w]hen the teacher educator asks the [teacher] candidates to move from seeing only deficits to recognizing the whole child and their strengths, [teacher] candidates are in a better position to be able to develop solidarity with their students’ communities” (p. 145). We also stand by this position in honour of educating the whole child, not merely what test scores state is the capability of the child.

The Effects and Implications of the Sociological-Cultural Framework Valenzuela (1999) states that the major effect of deficit thinking, which targets the sociological-cultural backgrounds of racially marginalized students, is a sense of alienation. He claims that instead of seeing these students as capable of using agency, critical thinking, and being resistant to the school’s lack of connectedness to them, many school officials label them as disengaged individuals who act out against school rules (Valenzuela, 1999). In other words, these racially marginalized students are labeled as disrespectful, disengaged, unappreciative, and rebellious because they do not adhere to the dominant neoliberal norms that construct school culture (Valenzuela, 1999). Garza and Crawford (2005) also suggest that a binary contrast is drawn between dominant norms and racially marginalized lived experiences, which are seen as abnormal due to deficit thinking. “The cultural capital of the dominant group and their related manners of interacting and producing knowledge are the basis from which ‘normality’ is constructed within the broader society and upon which value is assigned” (Garza & Crawford, 2005, p. 602), thus making anyone outside the dominant out group to be abnormal. In response to such implications, [o]ur role as teacher educators is to increase our students’ [i.e., teacher candidates] experiences beyond what they believe about the [marginalized] families they will serve. Engaging teacher candidates in working with families will certainly extend their understanding and will provide them with the tools to become effective teachers. (Riojas-Cotez & Flores, 2009, p. 238)


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli

The Effects and Implications of the Socio-Economic Framework Gaab (1993) claims that because, “…deficit thinking continues to exist in our schools, [it is] communicating to [racially marginalized] students that they are somehow less deserving” (p. 183) of school funding and well-equipped schools. Moreover, Gaab quotes Anyon to emphasize that socio-economic research reveals that, “… many working class and poor schools are teaching students in rote, repetitive ways that exclude discussion and higher level thinking in order to provide students the skills believed to be needed in the blue-collar workforce” (Anyon as cited in Gaab, 1993, p. 183). Deficit thinking assumptions toward the capabilities of working-class students become reinforced (Nieto & Bode, 2012). Moreover, Cuban’s (2004) research also seems to blame the low socio-economic background of students for being the cause of a declining neoliberal economy, and thus “justify” deficit assumptions about these students. These detrimental effects of the three conceptual frameworks for deficit thinking have the following negative effects and implications on racially marginalized students: internalization of a negative self-identity, alienation, discrimination, student disengagement, and a lack of trust and belief in the school system. Thus, neoliberal practices such as standardized tests for “measurability,” rote learning for “efficiency,” and streaming/labeling for “success at the individual level” are smoke screens for sustaining and promoting deficit attitudes towards racially marginalized students (Groenke & Hatch, 2009). As teacher educators we need to encourage our “[p]reservice teachers [to] shift passive ideas of race, socioeconomics, gender, and so forth, to an assertive sociocultural and anti-oppressive consciousness” (Cross, 2003; Ladson-Billings, 2006 as quoted in Aragon et al., 2013, p. 566 ).

A Call for a Genuine Democratic Education in Teacher Education The heart of the problem of deficit thinking is the neoliberal political agenda in education that reinforces these lop-sided beliefs in the everyday teaching practices and dispositions that our teachers often (un)knowingly embrace is “swept under the rug,” and constructed as if it were normal and ethically unproblematic. The problem lies beyond people in positions of authority evading the contentions of inequities in schools as a result of these same agendas that are often not publicly known on a deeper critical level (and are not supposed to be publicly known) (Apple, 2011). The neoliberal agenda displaces what it should be accountable for onto racially marginalized students


Uprooting and Settling In: The Invisible Strength of Deficit Thinking through deficit-based teaching practices, while maintaining its goal of keeping the status quo alive (Apple, 2011). It is astonishing how many layers of evasive explanations (which sometimes need to be sought out) are offered about why systemic inequities are present in public schools systems (Argon et al., 2013). These explanations are offered without any accountability for why they exist and continue to mask “deficit practices” in the classroom (Skrla & Scheurich, 2004). Valencia supports the idea that the “accountability” piece is missing in all explanations that have been provided by political authorities: “…[inner city] schools are [often] organized to prevent learning, sustain inequalities in the political economy of education, and [yet] the oppressive macro-politics and practices in education are all held exculpatory in understanding school failure” (Valencia as cited in Portelli et al., 2007, p. 9). The lack of proper moral accountability toward neoliberal practices and beliefs greatly contributes to the resilience of deficit attitudes and actions. Many [teacher] candidates complain that they want to teach from a social justice perspective, but there is no way for them to accomplish this. Teacher educators must help them to reveal the cracks in the brick walls created by neoliberal policies so that teachers can implement the kind of pedagogy that is in service to the communities in which they teach. (Katsarou et al., 2010, p. 147) As teacher educators we must dispel and make apparent the loopholes in deficit-based thinking that are intricately entwined with a neoliberal coating. Such a neoliberal coating has become invisible and now, more than ever, is becoming part of the fabric of teachers’ dispositions and teaching pedagogies, which often end up re-oppressing our most vulnerable students.

Garvey (1996), who takes an activist position, reminds us: [c]hance has never yet satisfied hope of a suffering people. Action, self-reliance, the vision of self and the future have been the only means by which the oppressed have seen and realized the light of their own freedom. Up, up, you mighty race! You can accomplish what you will. (p. 210)

At the heart of a truly democratic way of life, is the notion of self-agency. A democratic education needs to provide the explanations for the illusions and misperceptions that neoliberal beliefs have created. Democratic teacher education must extend beyond the


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli neoliberal conception of schooling and encourage students and educators to critically examine the deeply rooted ethical problems that underpin deficit thinking. Given the immorality of deficit thinking, as well as the unethical and unjust consequences, we have a moral obligation to support possibilities for a genuinely democratic education in teacher education.

Conclusion Teacher education cannot reach its full goal without immersing teacher candidates into the practice of critical reflection of one’s own beliefs, attitudes, dispositions, practices, and biases. Questioning mainstream deficit thinking needs to be an integral part of such reflection (Down & Smyth, 2012). When we critically uncover our own assumptions, often rooted in deficit thinking, then we can collectively work on how to diminish and eliminate such deficit thinking practices (Ladson-Billings, 2006). We recognize that not all teachers or administrators are willing to “give up their privileges” by acknowledging their biases. And that going against the grain (i.e., being morally responsible for them) requires a constant struggle that is often demanding and difficult. However, we believe it is crucial that they are made aware and understand the serious effects and implications of deficit thinking, and are able to begin thinking about how they can be morally responsible and contribute to democratic schooling possibilities.4

Notes 1. This paper is based on ideas originally developed in Sharma, 2009. In some instances sentences from this document have been incorporated into this paper. 2. For the purposes of this paper, “inner-city students” refer to racially marginalized students that come from low socio-economic backgrounds and attend public schools. 3. Convergent thinking is the opposite of divergent thinking and thus assists in reinforcing deficit thinking assumptions based on pseudo-scientific rationalization, as described by Hyslop-Margison and Naseem, 2008. 4. We believe these critical dialogues must include active listening, mutual respect, true openness to dialogue, and genuine compassion for the “other.”



References Anyon, J. (1980). Social class and the hidden curriculum of work. Journal of Education, 1, 67–92. Apple, M. W. (2011). Democratic education in neoliberal and neoconservative times. International Studies in Sociology of Education, 21(1), 21–31. Aragon, A., Culpepper, S. A., McKee, M. W., & Perkins, M. (2014). Understanding profiles of preservice teachers with different levels of commitment to teaching in urban schools. Urban Education, 49(5), 543–573. Ayers, W., & Ford, P. (Eds.). (1996). City kids, city teachers: Reports from the front Row. New York: The New York Press. Books, S. (2004). Poverty and schooling in the U.S.: Contexts and consequences. New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

the other America.” Chicago: University of Chicago. Gaab, M. (2004). Book Review on: “Lives on the edge: Single mothers and their students in the other America.” Educational Studies: A Journal of the American Educational Studies Association, 36(2). Garvey, M. (1996). City kids city teachers. New York: The New Press. Garza, A., & Crawford, L. (2005). Hegemonic multiculturalism: English immersion, ideology, and subtractive schooling. Bilingual Research Journal: The Journal of the National Association for Bilingual Education, 29(3), 599–619. Giroux, H. (1992). Resisting difference: Cultural studies and the discourse of critical pedagogy. In Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson, and Paula A. Treichler (Eds.) Cultural Studies. New York: Routledge.

Brown, K. D. (2010). Is this what we want them to say? Examining the tensions in what U.S. preservice teachers say about risk and academic achievement. Teaching and Teacher Education, 26, 1077–1087.

Giroux, H. (2004). The terror of neoliberalism: Authoritarian and the eclipse of democracy. Boulder, CO: Paradigm.

Cochran-Smith, M., & Zeichner, K. (Eds.). (2005). Studying teacher education. New York: Routledge.

Groenke, S. L., & Hatch, J.A. (Eds.). (2009). Critical pedagogy and teacher education in the neoliberal era. New York: Springer.

Cooper, B. (2006). Deficit Thinking, Learn University of North Carolina. North Carolina: University of North Carolina Publishers.

Hyslop-Margison, E., & Naseem, A. (2008). Scientism and education: Empirical research as neo-liberal ideology. Dordrecht, NLD: Springer Netherlands.

Cuban, L. (2004). Making public schools businesslike … again. Political Science and Politics, 237–240. doi:10.1017.S1049096504004159. Darder, A. (2012). Neoliberalism in the academic borderlands: An on-going struggle for equality and human rights. Educational Studies, 48: 412–426. Delpit, L. (1995). Other people’s children: Cultural conflict in the classroom. New York: The New Press. Down, B., & Smyth, J. (Eds.) (2012). Critical voices in teacher education: Teaching for social justice in conservative times. New York: Springer. Gaab, M. (1993). Book Review on: “Lives on the edge: Single mothers and their students in

Katsarou, E., Picower, B., & Stovall, D. (2010). Acts of solidarity: Developing urban social justice educators in the struggle for quality public education. Teacher Education Quarterly, 37(3), 137–151. Kincheloe, J. (2009). “Contextualizing the madness: A critical analysis of the assault on teacher education and schools,” in Susan L. Groenke & J. Amos Hatch, Critical Pedagogy and Teacher Education in the Neoliberal Era, Springer: 19–36. Ladson-Billings, G. (1994). The dreamkeepers, successful teachers of African American children. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.


Manu Sharma and John P. Portelli Ladson-Billings, G. (2006). “Yes, but how do we do it?”: Practicing culturally relevant pedagogy. In J. Landsman & C. Lewis (Eds.), White teachers/diverse classrooms: A guide to building inclusive schools, promoting high expectations, and eliminating racism (pp. 29–42). Sterling, VA: Stylus. Meier, D. (2002). In schools we trust: Creating community of learning in an era of testing and standardization. Boston: Beacon Press. Nieto, S., & Bode, P. (2012). Affirming diversity: The sociopolitical context of multicultural education (6th ed.). Boston: Pearson. Portelli, J., Shields, C., & Vibert, A. (2007). Toward an equitable education: Poverty, diversity, and students at risk. Canada: National Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication. Portelli, J.P. (2010). Leadership for equity in education: Deficit mentality is a major challenge in Fedcan Blog. Retrieved from: http://www. ideas-idees.ca/blog/leadership-equity-edu cation-deficit-mentality-major-challenge Portelli, J.P. (2013). Deficit mentality and the need for subversion: Reflections on Milani, in Carmel Borg, Mario Cardona, and Sandro Caruana (Eds.), Don Lorenzo Milani and Education. Palgrave, 213–218.

Shields, C., Bishop, R., & Mazawi, A. (2005). Pathologizing practices: The impact of deficit thinking on education. New York: Peter Lang Publishing Inc. Skrla, L., & Scheurich, J. J. (Eds.). (2004). Educational equity and accountability: Paradigms, policies, and politics. New York: Routledge Falmer. Smyth, J. (2011). Critical pedagogy for social justice. New York: Continuum. Valencia, R. R. (Ed.). (1997). The evolution of deficit thinking: Educational thought and practice. London: The Falmer Press. Valencia, R. R. (2010). Dismantling contemporary deficit thinking: Educational thought and practice. New York: Routledge. Valencia, R. R. (Ed.). (2012). The evolution of deficit thinking: Educational thought and practice. Routledge. Valenzuela, A. (1999). Subtractive schooling: U.S.- Mexican youth and the politics of caring. Albany: State University of New York Press. Waddell, J. H. (2013). Working with families in urban teacher education: A critical need for all students. The Teacher Educator, 48(4), 276–295.

Reid, A. (2005). “Rethinking the democratic purposes of public schooling in a globalizing world” in Michael Apple et al. (Eds.), Globalizing education: Policies, pedagogies, and politics. New York: Peter Lang.

Writer, J. H., & Oesterreich, H. A. (2012). Native women teacher candidates “with strength”: Rejecting deficits and restructuring institutions. Action in Teacher Education, 33(5-6), 509–523.

Riojas-Cortez, M., & Flores, B. B., (2009). Sin olividar a los padres: Families collaborating within school and university partnerships. Journal of Latinos and Education, 8(3), 231–239.

Yosso, T. J. (2005). Whose culture has capital? A critical race theory discussion of community cultural wealth. Race Ethnicity and Education, 8(1), 61–91.

Ross, W., & Gibson, R. (Eds.). (2006). Neoliberalism and educational reform. NJ: Hampton Press.

Zeichner, K. (2009). Teacher education and the struggle for social justice. New York: Routledge.

Sharma, M. (2009). Inner city students: Stamped, labeled and shipped out — Deficit thinking and democracy in an age of neoliberalism (Masters Thesis). University of Toronto.



Manu Sharma

is a faculty member and the Experiential Learning Specialist at the University of Windsor. She teaches in the B.Ed program and the Masters program. In addition, she has taught with the University of Toronto, the Toronto District School Board and internationally in Antigua and Barbuda, Germany, Japan, and Tanzania. Her research interests are in teacher education program initiatives, equity and diversity studies in education, critical pedagogy and andragogy, international and community-based learning and experiential learning.

John P. Portelli,

a former schoolteacher, is a Professor in the Department of Social Justice Education with a crossappointment in the Department of Leadership, Higher and Adult Education at OISE, University of Toronto, where he also co-directs the Centre for Leadership and Diversity. His research interests include philosophy of education, democratic theory and pedagogy, equity issues in leadership and policy, and student engagement and students at risk. He has authored, co-authored, and co-edited 10 books including two collections of poetry.



Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction David Stroupe, Michigan State University

ABSTRACT A lack of coherence about norms for instruction between preparation contexts often results in tensions for beginners about learning to teach. I wondered if planning tools created in a university setting, designed to support ambitious instruction, could act as boundary objects to help novices bring ambitious teaching into classrooms. As such, I examined how three participants used the tools to plan for ambitious instruction in ways that changed their own understanding of subject matter and pedagogy. Their mentor teachers, however, prompted the novices to use the tools and teach in ways that were inconsistent with the participants’ planning. I found that the tools prompted the novices to try out pieces of ambitious instruction, yet the tools alone do not encourage coherence or communication between beginning and mentor teachers.

O

ne challenge facing science teacher preparation is the lack of consensus about what constitutes instructional excellence. Along with colleagues, I propose that a growing movement to characterize rigorous and equitable teaching as “ambitious instruction” in other subject matter areas, such as mathematics and literacy education, can serve as a guide for the science education community to develop a vision of effective classroom pedagogy. Ambitious instruction supports students of all ethnic, racial, class, ability, and gender categories to participate in the conceptual, epistemic, social, and material processes of a discipline (Ball, Sleep, Boerst, & Bass, 2009; Duschl, 2008; Kazemi, Franke, & Lampert, 2009; Lampert & Graziani, 2009; Windschitl, Thompson, Braaten, & Stroupe, 2012). A key feature of ambitious instruction is that student thinking plays a central role in teachers’ daily work. Teachers plan, instruct in the moment, and reflect while constantly considering how to adapt instruction to work on


David Stroupe and with students’ ideas (see Warren, Ballenger, Ogonowski, Rosebery, & HudicourtBarnes, 2001; Warren & Rosebery, 1995).

Supporting Ambitious Instruction Across Contexts Using Tools Supporting beginning teachers’ learning and enactment of ambitious instruction is complicated, because their preparation trajectory extends across a variety of contexts, including teacher education courses, early field experiences in schools, and internships (Cobb, Zhao, & Dean, 2009; Grossman, Hammerness, & McDonald, 2009; Zeichner, 2010). In each setting, beginning teachers interact with other people, with materials, and historical/institutional expectations about how teaching and learning can unfold (Sykes, Bird, & Kennedy, 2010). However, rarely do settings share a common vision of teaching to act as reliable anchors for supporting beginning teacher learning (Kennedy, 2010; Putnam & Borko, 2000; Sykes et al., 2010). Novices, therefore, experience tensions when learning to teach as they try to make sense of competing messages about “what counts” as competent instruction in these varied contexts (Gainsburg, 2012; Grossman & McDonald, 2008; Wilson & Berne, 1999; Zeichner, 2010). To better understand how novices negotiate these contexts, I investigated how a suite of planning tools, used by preservice teachers to plan for ambitious instruction, could act as boundary objects as the beginning teachers moved from a secondary science methods class to student teaching. By boundary objects, I mean that the tools could facilitate interconnections between contexts as people familiar with ambitious instruction (the student teachers) and those who frame teaching as the delivery of information (mentor teachers, in this instance, all described teaching as transmitting information to students). I hoped that the tools might act as a “nexus of perspectives” (Wenger, 1998), connecting novices and mentor teachers as they worked together to support student learning through the design of ambitious instruction. Specifically, I asked: 1) How do beginning teachers use planning tools, which promote ambitious instruction, in a school context that frames instruction as “information delivery”? 2) How and why do preservice teachers’ attempts at ambitious instruction, planned using the tools, evolve in schools that advocate for “information delivery”? The role and structure of planning tools. The planning tools press beginning teachers to construct a “big idea”-framed unit. By “big ideas,” I mean substantive relationships between concepts in the form of scientific models that help learners 270 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction understand, explain, and predict a variety of important phenomena in the natural world (Windschitl et al., 2012). Teachers constructing a big idea-framed unit with the planning tools “unpack” a science topic, and “repack” the topic as an inquiry-worthy idea to build a unit around (Penuel & Gallagher, 2009). For example, if the curriculum lists tangible entities as the topic (e.g., batteries and bulbs, acids and bases, plants, types of rocks), the teacher could reason: “Should details and facts about these ‘things’ be the target of study, or are there more fundamental processes associated with these that children should understand?” “Are these things worth studying because they are part of a larger system of activity?” and “What aspects of these things might be relevant to childrens’ lives?” Using planning tools to construct a big idea-framed unit is a critical pre-condition to enacting ambitious teaching. For example, Thompson, Windschitl, and Braaten (2013) found that only beginners who reconceptualized curriculum topics as a big idea using the planning tools attempted some form of ambitious teaching during the course of a unit. Whereas, novices who did not construct big ideas felt obligated to take mundane curricular topics (e.g., “glaciers,” “sound,” “solutions”) at face value and not seek deeper or more comprehensive scientific ideas that could help students make sense of the many activities prescribed in the support materials. Such teachers also adhered to their activity-centered curricula, or merely altered minor lesson details. The initial work of constructing a big idea-framed unit using the planning tools requires novices to develop an explicit and elaborate understanding of the target ideas they are to teach, as well as a trajectory of sense-making activities to frame the unit. The tools are purposely low-tech, consisting of an electronic document in which participants can type in responses to a series of prompts, and that can be revised as new ideas come to light (see Figure 1 for a sample page from a tool). The planning tools also discouraged the notion that a big idea could be captured in a single word or phrase like “heredity,” “force and motion,” or “volcanoes.” Instead, they portrayed big ideas as relationships between some natural phenomenon and its underlying causal explanation. In addition, the tools scaffolded the kinds of thinking that ambitious teachers engage in when trying to locate and re-package fundamental ideas of importance within common curriculum topics—ideas that are actionable in terms of designing instruction. Preservice teachers’ pedagogical reasoning with tools. The planning tools also required that participants engage in four pedagogical reasoning processes—recasting the big idea, replaying the lesson while paying attention to students’ ideas, considering alternative plans given a different set of teaching circumstances, and projecting their pedagogical ideas and content knowledge into an imagined future practice.


David Stroupe One reasoning process, recasting the big idea, occurred as participants constantly revisited and interrogated their own content knowledge as they learned more about their students’ emerging science ideas. They then used their evolving content knowledge, planning tools, and students’ emerging science ideas to reconsider the big idea. As participants recast their big idea, they engaged in a related pedagogical reasoning process while using the planning tools—replaying a lesson (Horn, 2010). As participants replayed a lesson, they evaluated the effectiveness of specific instructional moves, considered the state of students’ emerging science ideas, and made instructional decisions in conjunction with recasting the big idea. In turn, this enabled the participants to make sense of their current classroom realities in relation to their own ambitious vision of practice. These processes had a discernable and immediate impact on practice, and resulted in immediate changes to the units. At the same time, participants also used the planning tools as resources to reason about how they would enact the “big idea” planning practice in imagined contexts. One such pedagogical reasoning process, alternative reasoning, was the participants’ opportunity to consider how they would plan and teach their unit to their current students given a different set of contextual affordances and constraints. This reasoning process often began with the phrase, “If I had more time, I would…” or “If I could teach this the way I wanted to, I would…” Alternative reasoning highlighted what the participants learned about students’ emerging science ideas and considered important to teach in response to students’ intellectual and pedagogical needs, but were unable to do so because of contextual constraints. In addition to alternative reasoning, participants engaged in projective reasoning. Such reasoning enabled the participants to imagine how they might teach their unit differently in some future context. This reasoning was indicated by participants stating, “Next time I teach this I will…” and “For future classes, I will…” Projective reasoning showed the participants’ learning by illustrating what elements of practice they considered important enough to try again. Alternative and projective reasoning processes, while not providing immediate assistance to practice, like recasting and replaying, enabled the participants to refine their ambitious vision by allowing them to imagine teaching their actual students and future students, under a different set of affordances and constraints. I hypothesized that unpacking the big idea with the planning tools would help participants construct learning goals, in terms of both concepts and performances, that would go beyond what is expected of students in most curricula. I further hypothesized that, for teachers using the planning tools, to reason with and about their subject 272 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction matter and pedagogical knowledge would serve a priming function. By priming, I mean that in the process of planning, teachers explicitly surface the important pieces of the causal explanation, and identify the ideas and language that students might draw upon to make sense of this science work. Priming, I thought, could prepare teachers for classroom discourse and enable them to recognize important threads of partial understandings in students’ talk. In other words, I thought the tools could expand the range of what novices recognize as student contributions, and that could be built upon or challenged in particular ways, rather than dismissed as irrelevant.

Fig. 1: Sample page from planning tool

Three Preservice Teachers’ Stories I now present the stories of three preservice teachers’ learning as they attempted to use planning tools to enact big idea-framed units in schools where such instruction was questioned. The three participants, Katie, Robert, and Amber (each name is a pseudonym) hold a bachelor’s degree in a science field and were all students in the secondary science methods course that I co-taught. My data collection occurred during a two-week time period in which the participants acted as the primary instructor in their internship classrooms for the first time. As such, they were responsible for planning, teaching, and assessing student learning. In each story, I describe how the teacher


David Stroupe candidates used the planning tools not only to plan for effective instruction, but also to later reason about students’ ideas in ways that changed their own understanding of both subject matter and pedagogy. Their mentor teachers, however, prompted the novices to teach in ways that were inconsistent with what they planned for using the tools. The tensions that arose between the novice and mentor teachers around the planning tools resulted in each participant compromising their actual instruction to some degree, which runs counter to a common belief that teachers’ instruction over the course of a unit results from a linear progression of decisions, beginning with content knowledge informing reasoning, which teachers then subsequently translate into practice. Katie’s unit. Katie’s mentor teacher assigned her to teach about volcanoes. Concerned about her inexperience with earth science since she held a biology degree, Katie relied extensively on her mentor teacher’s volcano lessons from previous years to inform her big idea construction and unit planning. Though supportive of her as a preservice teacher, Katie’s mentor expressed concern that her “style” of lessons, designed using the planning tools, might interfere with students’ progress through the curriculum standards. Therefore, the mentor requested that Katie use the same PowerPoint lectures he created in previous years so that he knew her students would be exposed to the same required curriculum information set by the district. Katie said she felt constrained by her mentor’s push for information delivery while planning her unit, noting his indifference to learning about the planning tools. Katie’s mentor also declined to help her plan the volcano unit, citing a difference of teaching “techniques.” Rather than abandon the big idea-framed unit, Katie used the planning tools to create a unit focused on constructing an explanatory model of volcanic eruptions. She chose the frequency of volcanic eruptions as a puzzling phenomenon, selecting Mt. Kilauea (constantly erupts) and Mt. St. Helens (rarely erupts) as processes for students to explain. Katie selected this phenomenon for two reasons. First, the class had just completed a unit on plate tectonics, and she hoped that her students would draw on their work and ideas from the past two weeks to make sense of volcanoes. Second, Katie noted that Mt. St. Helens is within driving range of her school, and Mt. Rainier is visible from her classroom window. When prompted by an ambitious planning tool to explain her phenomenon selection, Katie wrote, “We live in [a] volcanically rich region, whose landscape is a result of volcanic activity”. Katie stated the explanatory goals for students were to “understand how some volcanoes are made (plate subduction and hot spots), the importance of silica and viscosity of magma, and how pressure builds up, or does not, in certain volcanoes”. Katie planned for her students to use ideas from the volcanic unit as part of their summative assessment to explain how Mt. Rainier might erupt. 274 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction After Katie’s initial lesson, she noted that her students expressed interest in the actual moment of volcanic eruptions themselves, not how they erupt over time. Therefore, Katie used the planning tools to recast her big idea to focus on the actual moment of volcanic eruptions. In another lesson, Katie heard students discuss the internal volcanic pressure of magma pushing on rock as an important piece of the causal explanation. Katie realized, however, that she did not include “pressure” in her own causal explanation for volcanic eruptions. Katie subsequently recast the big idea, adding pressure to her own explanatory story. In addition to recasting the big idea using the planning tools, Katie, when replaying students’ conversations about pressure using questions from the planning tools, realized that she needed to add pressure activities to her unit to address students’ emerging science ideas. Therefore, she put two new activities (carbon dioxide in a bottle and blasting sugar cube with air) in her unit, and decided to alter her expectations for students’ final summative assessment to include “pressure.” While Katie’s use of the planning tools influenced her immediate decision-making about her current unit, she also engaged in alternative and projective reasoning, considering her unit instruction in contexts with different affordances and constraints. Katie’s alternative reasoning focused on the “time constraints” placed on her by the curriculum, in addition to her mentor teacher’s reminders to keep pace with curriculum. In the planning tools, Katie wrote about other pieces of the causal explanation she wanted students to include (i.e., relationship between ash and lava; relationship between type of rock and amount of pressure), and sense-making conversations she wanted to facilitate with students, but could not because of time constraints. Katie’s projective reasoning highlighted her desire to help students make better connections between pieces of the volcanic eruption causal explanation—such as how pressure and ash in an explosion are related. She also wrote that she spent too much time focusing on curriculum topics that were tangentially related to the causal explanation of a volcanic eruption (such as silica and lava viscosity), noting that students struggled to include these curriculum topics in their final explanations. However, Katie’s mentor teacher applied both explicit and tacit pressure for her to keep pace with the school curriculum, and as her unit progressed, Katie’s resistance to his pedagogical expectations diminished. In particular, Katie’s last class reflected the tension between her ambitious vision around helping students make connections between science ideas and the contextual expectations pressuring her to keep the pace of the curriculum. Frequently in this lesson, Katie added curricular and canonical facts onto students’ statements to ensure that she covered the necessary information, while still expecting them to construct a causal explanation for volcanic eruptions.


David Stroupe For example, during one sense-making discussion, Katie asked a student about the importance of pressure inside the volcano, and the student responded, “Their [volcano] gas is under pressure so when it’s opening or something the gas tries to get out.” Katie revoiced the answer but added a piece of information not initially offered by the student, “So they both have gas under pressure that is trying to get out, so when they erupt, the pressure causes the rock to burst and the change in pressure causes the magma to go with it” (observation notes). Katie’s purposeful injection of content to expand a student’s answer both mirrored a pedagogical move used by her mentor teacher, and was also reflective of her ambitious vision to help students connect science ideas. By the end of her unit, Katie’s instruction was not antithetical to her big idea, her ambitious vision, or her mentor’s preferred instructional strategies, but did not reflect her planning using the ambitious tools. Robert’s unit. Like Katie, Robert’s mentor informed him that his unit needed to “cover” particular curriculum standards. In his case, enzyme structure and function. While Robert felt confident in his understanding of enzymes since he held a biology degree, he had never taught about enzymes prior to this unit, and was grateful his mentor gave him old PowerPoint presentations as a starting point for planning. While Robert wanted to plan with his mentor using the planning tools, he noted, “It [was] really different than what [my mentor] does and what [was] in [his] comfort zone” (final interview). Ultimately, Robert’s mentor teacher told him to plan his unit alone because, like Katie’s mentor, he did not have the time to understand the ambitious “technique” of teaching (final interview). Robert’s initial use of the planning tools reflected his vision of ambitious instruction, and focused on creating a collaborative student community in which students felt both connected to the science topics and “safe” to share ideas. He decided to situate enzymes in the larger context of digestion, asking students to theorize about why some people are lactose intolerant. He explained in his initial planning tools, although the district wants us to focus primarily on proteins/enzymes themselves, I think studying them in the context of an actual process (breaking down lactose) will help kids understand their importance… I’m hoping that by using a common condition, that most kids should have heard of, then they will be more interested in learning about why people can’t drink milk or eat dairy products. Robert planned to engage students in a conversation about this phenomenon in order to include as many students as possible, facilitating the construction of a classroom community. 276 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction After his first lesson, however, Robert’s mentor teacher told him that their students had too many “gaps” in their knowledge of digestion, and therefore would not be able to connect the required curriculum topic—enzymes—to the big idea (observation debrief). Deciding that students’ “gaps” were “too big to fill” during the unit, but still wanting to make the topic of enzymes accessible to all students, Robert recast his big idea to focus on explaining an activity (boiling lactase) found in the curriculum. Unlike Katie who increased the intellectual rigor of her unit, Robert decreased the rigor by reducing his expectations for students’ intellectual work. I also saw evidence of Robert’s reduced expectations when he replayed his lessons. Rather than have students learn about enzymes by focusing on lactose intolerance, Robert decided to highlight the four characteristics of enzymes promoted by the curriculum that he initially noted did not contextualize enzymes for students. In addition, he withdrew sense-making activities from the unit about digestion, replacing them with tasks that focused on enzyme characteristics, such as a computer simulation of the “lock and key” enzyme activation process, and using PowerPoint lectures created by his mentor teacher for classes taught in previous years. While Robert’s pedagogical reasoning processes of recasting and replaying illustrated his enactment of instruction aimed to deliver information to students, his alternative and projective reasoning in the planning tools indicated different thinking. Robert, like Katie, discussed a lack of time as a major influence on his decision-making. In the planning tools, Robert wrote that he wanted to help students consider why some enzymes work in stomach acid and others do not, and that he wanted students to explain relationships between structure and function. However, Robert stated that he was unable to “take the unit in that direction” after his mentor’s statements about the students’ lack of understanding and the time constraints that emerged from “taking too long for sense-making activities” (planning tools and final interview). Like Katie, Robert started compromising his instruction after the first lesson, anticipating emerging conflicts if he did not align his instruction with his mentor and school’s pedagogical expectations. For example, Robert found a computer simulation of enzyme function that he wanted students to use as a resource when explaining the lactase lab. He then developed a sense-making activity in the planning tools for students to discuss their emerging science ideas. However, Robert’s mentor told him that he only had one more day for his unit, and that he was only allowed to sign out a class set of computers for one day. Rather than ask for an extra day for instruction, Robert recalled,


David Stroupe one idea that [my mentor] had proposed is that I sit up in front of the class and I go through this simulation as a large group discussion. I didn’t want to do that because I don’t think the kids would have taken much out of it….I would prefer the kids to talk about it in the small group setting. So in order to have me be able to have the laptops, I removed the making sense activity of the lactase lab, which in the long run was probably a mistake. (final interview) Even though Robert planned the sense-making activity in the planning tools using the computer simulation as a resource, he reduced the intellectual rigor of his unit because he did not deflect the pedagogical expectations of his school and mentor teacher. Amber’s unit. Unlike Katie and Robert’s school context, Amber’s school focused extensively on increasing students’ standardized test scores. Therefore, Amber’s mentor teacher asked her to get evolution “done” in the nine days before a holiday break in order to maintain the content “coverage pace” set by the department (final interview). In addition, Amber’s mentor did not provide any lesson plans or other resources to her as a place to start planning her unit. This lack of material resources was not surprising to Amber, as she told us that her mentor teacher “doesn’t plan. He uses kind of what he has used throughout the years and he will come in usually five minutes before class starts and just start delivering instruction” (final interview). Like Katie and Robert, Amber’s mentor teacher also asked her to plan alone, claiming that she needed practice working in the “solitude of full-time teaching” (final interview). Amber, like Katie and Robert, wanted to provide a context for natural selection by framing her unit around the phenomenon of the genotypic causes of the fennec fox’s phenotypic appearance. The organism selection was purposeful, as Amber noted, “Many of my students come from both Northern and Sub-Saharan Africa and would have seen this fox before” (planning tool). Amber initially planned for students to compare the fennec fox to red foxes living in their urban environment, so they could analyze how natural selection operates on similar animals in different ecosystems. Amber’s ambitious vision around scaffolding students’ epistemic reasoning also informed her big idea construction. She planned for students to construct an explanation by making sense of data they collected from activities, not just copying notes from a lecture—a routine instructional strategy used by her mentor teacher. I observed that Amber used the planning tools slightly differently than Katie and Robert. While the latter two anticipated students’ interests and ideas while guessing at their partial understandings and ways of talking about science, Amber reasoned with her evolving content knowledge, which developed through multiple daily interactions 278 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction with students in and out of the classroom. For example, after initially writing some questions to elicit students’ ideas during the first lesson, Amber “picked a student and tried to think about how they think and tried to prepare questions based on how they think. I [tried] to think about what they might say to my questions and then what my response could be” (final interview). Using the planning tools, Amber engaged in an imagined rehearsal of students’ responses to her questions, which she subsequently asked while teaching the first class. During her initial lesson, therefore, Amber was primed to notice and find value in a wide range of students’ ideas. Specifically, during her first lesson, Amber heard students discuss two ideas she realized were missing from her own causal explanation of natural selection: the long time intervals in which natural selection operates, and the importance of sexual reproduction (possible genetic outcomes and the actual genotypes of offspring) for mammal evolution. Amber revised her own explanation using the planning tools, and recast the big idea to include time and reproduction. Later in the unit, Amber heard students invoke a Lamarckian explanation for fennec fox coloration (i.e., the fox can change colors to match its habitat, and can pass that color change gene to offspring). She therefore again recast her big idea, this time focusing on competing evolution models for fennec fox coloration that students constructed: Lamarck’s single generation change and Darwin’s gradual model. Like Katie and Robert, Amber only engaged in alternative and projective reasoning in the planning tools. Amber also claimed a “time constraint” as the most immediate influence on her decision-making, hoping for students to have more time for sensemaking discussions. In addition, she reasoned in the planning tools that given more time for sense-making, her current students likely would have discussed relationships between genetic mutations and “abnormal” phenotypic traits—the next piece of the evolution causal explanation that Amber planned to teach but could not longer do so. Amber’s projective reasoning focused on her frustration with her school and mentor’s expectations for student learning. In the planning tools, Amber wrote that in the future, she will “bring DNA in earlier because students were searching for that idea when trying to explain natural selection.” In addition, she planned to design activities before the next school year to illuminate and address her imagined future students’ partial understandings of what she had become aware of during conversations and classroom discussions with her current students. While Amber’s unit time was constrained like Katie and Robert, her instruction aligned most closely with her ambitious vision and pedagogical reasoning. For example, while Katie and Robert began to establish themselves as the gatekeepers of


David Stroupe information, Amber positioned students’ emerging theories about natural selection as central to solving a conceptual puzzle that surfaced during a class discussion. After hearing student conversations in which they rallied ideas from Lamarck’s evolution model that the fox could turn darker during its lifetime and pass that trait on to offspring, Amber asked students to explain the fennec fox’s unique coloration by comparing Lamarck and Darwin’s competing models of evolution. However, Amber did not rely on her mentor’s PowerPoint presentations, nor did she tack on canonical information to students’ ideas. Instead, she facilitated small-group and whole-class discussions in which students used evidence from activities and their own growing understanding of evolution to construct a final causal explanation. Like Katie and Robert, Amber’s mentor teacher cut short her ambitious planning and teaching by insisting that she end her unit sooner than she anticipated. In addition, Amber’s last lesson, in which students rallied evidence to support either a Lamarckian or Darwinian explanation for fennec fox coloration, lasted only 40 minutes because of an unexpected school-wide assembly. Though Amber requested more time for her students to complete their explanations, her mentor told her that her unit was over. Despite these contextual constraints and potential pedagogical roadblocks, Amber’s goal as a first-year teacher remained the same: enact ambitious instruction she felt would benefit students’ intellectual work around a big idea (final interview).

Understanding the Novices’ Tool Use and Instruction To explain why the three participants used the planning tools and taught in particular ways, I offer two assertions: The tools provided an ambient press on participants for ambitious instruction, and the participants developed an ambitious vision of instruction using the tools that carried into their student teaching experiences. The “ambient press” of university planning tools. While some literature suggests that the contextual pressure to conform to particular norms overwhelms beginning teachers’ vision and practice (see Gainsburg, 2012; Hewson, Tabachnick, Zeichner, & Lemberger, 1999), I argue that the planning tools provided participants with an instantly accessible alternative vision of practice to counter the expectations for information delivery embedded in their school. The planning tools acted as boundary objects, codifying and transporting ambitious practices from the university-based methods class context to the school setting. Thus the planning tools provided an “ambient press” on the participants to plan differently than they might otherwise, given their school’s norms and expectations for instruction.


Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction One key feature of the participants’ learning was the use of students’ emerging science ideas as resources to inform instructional decisions. Rather than rely solely on the school’s mentor teacher and curriculum to direct their actions, the participants adapted their immediate planning and imagined future instruction based on what they learned about student thinking. According to some literature, this learning and reasoning is difficult for, and rare among, beginning teachers (see Bianchini & Cavazos, 2007; Cohen, 2008; Warren et al., 2001). However, I saw that as the participants planned, taught, and reflected on their lessons using the tools, they continually learned from practice by considering students’ theories, partial understandings, experiences, and discourses. Subsequently, the participants reconsidered their assigned science topic in ways that did not occur to them before interacting with their particular students. Such interactions prompted them to revise what counted as a gapless explanation, and what pieces to add or take away from the big idea, depending on what they learned from their students. By providing an “ambient press” for the participants to engage in the four pedagogical reasoning processes centered on student thinking, the planning tools did not act as a point of communication between the participants and their mentor teachers. Rather, the tools tacitly prompted the participants to subvert the institutional messages that upheld a curriculum and textbook as embodiments of knowledge for effective instruction. This process was risky for the participants for two reasons. First, continually reframing the big idea of the unit led to tensions among the mentor teachers who did not share the participants’ vision of ambitious instruction. Second, by continually leveraging their developing ambitious instruction and reshaping their unit around student thinking, the participants destabilized what would normally be the bedrock of instruction—the scope, sequence, and pace of the curriculum. This high level of professional risk might help to explain why the participants’ pedagogical reasoning reflected elements of ambitious instruction only in the planning tools.

Participants’ Ambitious Vision of Practice While the planning tools provided an “ambient press” for the participants to learn in particular ways, I recognize how a tool is used depends on the individual or group using it (Cohen, Raudenbush, & Ball, 2002; Engeström, 2004). I propose that the participants’ response to the planning tools’ “ambient press” for ambitious instruction occurred in part because their vision of ambitious instruction acted as a filter for what they paid attention to when planning, instructing, and reflecting. By developing a vision of instruction that foregrounded student thinking and collaboration—key aspects of ambitious teaching—I observed the participants continually planned instructional


David Stroupe opportunities in which they could learn more about students’ ideas. The planning tools, then, provided scaffolding that allowed the participants to use student thinking as a resource for their own learning. I posit that if the participants did not develop a vision of ambitious instruction that focused on students’ thinking and collaboration, they likely would have used the tools differently than they demonstrated in this study, perhaps even dismissing students’ ideas as irrelevant (Cohen et al., 2002). Therefore, the participants’ vision of ambitious instruction mediated what they attended to in their teaching, what they saw as opportunities or problems in their school context, and how they used the planning tools to learn from these daily episodes. In addition to mediating learning, the participants’ vision of ambitious instruction worked to deflect some, if not all, of their school’s multiple pushes for information delivery as the primary aim of instruction. While all three participants in this study valued student thinking and collaboration, they compromised their instruction to varying degrees as they made sense of the tacit and/or explicit constraints placed on them by their school-based mentor teachers (Gainsburg, 2012). Katie and Robert, while focused on student thinking and learning, prioritized different aspects of learning— connecting ideas for students and building collaborative classrooms—than Amber did when planning, instructing, and reflecting. Amber, whose ambitious vision focused on students’ epistemic reasoning and participation in science practices, consistently deflected her school’s instructional expectations when making various pedagogical decisions and when teaching lessons (see Thompson et al., 2013). Such subtle differences in their visions of instruction might have resulted in disparate theories of action—that is, Katie and Robert’s compromises of instruction to either “cram” ideas into students’ heads or reduce the intellectual expectations for student learning.

Concluding Thoughts for Teacher Education At the outset of this article, I aimed to test a hypothesis that tools for ambitious planning could provide more coherence between preservice teachers’ initial preparation contexts and their school-based instructional experiences. While I see evidence that the participants learned from their attempts to enact ambitious practice by using the planning tools, I am keenly aware that all three participants compromised their actual instruction to some degree because of the tensions that arose as they made sense of their school’s pedagogical expectations. These instructional compromises were a successful professional survival strategy for the participants, but the compromises also meant that the participants’ students did not immediately benefit from their teacher’s 282 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction learning in the planning tools. This gap between teacher learning evidenced in the planning tools and how their instructional decisions benefit students’ science learning reflects the lack of support the participants received to try out ambitious instruction. Given the lack of a common vision of teaching found in the tools and in the school context, there is a need for better coherence across teacher preparation contexts—we need agreement and support about the valued practices, instructional expectations, and learning trajectories for beginning teachers. One form of coherence begins with teacher educators—if we want to provide tools to beginning teachers to enact ambitious instruction, we must also provide supports for the novices as they attempt to use the tools over time rather than watch tensions emerge between beginner and mentor teachers. I also acknowledge that these three participants provided a unique opportunity for cross-case analysis because they all developed a vision of ambitious instruction. I recognize that not all preservice science teachers have support to develop a vision of ambitious instruction during their teacher preparation program. Nor do they have support to use planning tools in ways that align with the design of the tools. I therefore have begun, as a teacher educator, to study the supports beginning teachers need to construct and maintain a vision of ambitious instruction. An important feature of this development is the school-based mentor teacher. Since I saw that mentor teachers have a strong influence on what beginning teachers learn and do during instruction, I want to better understand how to support the mentor teachers’ learning and development of a vision of ambitious instruction.


David Stroupe

References Ball, D., Sleep, L., Boerst, T., & Bass, H. (2009). Combining the development of practice and the practice of development in teacher education. The Elementary School Journal, 109(5), 458–474.

Hewson, P. W., Tabachnick, B. R., Zeichner, K. M., & Lemberger, J. (1999). Educating prospective teachers of biology: Findings, limitations, and recommendations. Science Education, 83, 373–384.

Bianchini, J. A., & Cavazos, L. M. (2007). Learning from students, inquiry into practice, and participation in professional communities: Beginning teachers’ uneven progress towards equitable science teaching. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 44(4), 586–612.

Horn, I. S. (2010). Teaching replays, teaching rehearsals, and re-visions of practice: Learning from colleagues in a mathematics teacher community. Teachers College Record, 112(1), 225–259.

Cobb, P., Zhao, Q., & Dean, C. (2009). Conducting design experiments to support teachers’ learning: A reflection from the field. Journal of the Learning Sciences, 18(2), 165–199. Cohen, D. K. (2008). Knowledge and teaching. Oxford Review of Education, 34(3), 357–378. Cohen, D. K., Raudenbush, S. W., & Ball, D. (2002). Resources, instruction, and research. Evidence matters: Randomized trials in education research (ED. BY F. Mosteller and R. Boruch., pp. 80–119). Washington, D. C.: Brookings Institution Press. Duschl, R. (2008). Science education in threepart harmony: Balancing conceptual, epistemic, and social learning goals. Review of Research in Science Education, 32, 268–291. Engeström, Y. (2004). The new generation of expertise: Seven theses. In A. Fuller, A. Munro, and H. Rainbird (Eds.), Workplace learning in context (pp. 145–165). New York: Routledge. Gainsburg, J. (2012). Why new mathematics teachers do or don’t use practices emphasized in their credential program. Journal of Mathematics Teacher Education, 15(5), 359–379.

Kazemi, E., Franke, M., & Lampert, M. (2009). Developing pedagogies in teacher education to support novice teachers’ ability to enact ambitious instruction. In R. Hunter, B. Bicknell, & T. Burgess (Eds.), Crossing divides: Proceedings of the 32nd annual conference of the Mathematics Education Research Group of Australiasia (Vol. 1, pp. 11–21). Palmerston North, NZ: MERGA. Kennedy, M. (2010). Attribution error and the quest for teacher quality. Educational Researcher, 39(8), 591–598. Lampert, M., & Graziani, F. (2009). Instructional activities as a tool for teachers’ and teacher educators’ learning. The Elementary School Journal, 109(5), 491–509. Penuel, W. R., & Gallagher, L. P. (2009). Preparing teachers to design instruction for deep understanding in middle school earth science. The Journal of the Learning Sciences, 18, 461–508. Putnam, R., & Borko, H. (2000). What do new views of knowledge and thinking have to say about research on teacher learning? Educational Researcher, 29(1), 4–15. Sykes, G., Bird, T., & Kennedy, M. (2010). Teacher education: Its problems and some prospects. Journal of Teacher Education, 61(5), 464–476.

Grossman, P., Hammerness, K., & McDonald, M. (2009). Redefining teaching, re-imagining teacher education. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 15(2), 273–289.

Thompson, J., Windschitl, M., & Braaten, M. (2013). Developing a theory of ambitious early-career teacher practice. American Educational Research Journal, 50(3), 574–615.

Grossman, P., & McDonald, M. (2008). Back to the future: Directions for research in teaching and teacher education. American Educational Research Journal, 45(1), 184–205.

Warren, B., Ballenger, C., Ogonowski, M., Rosebery, A., & Hudicourt-Barnes, J. (2001). Rethinking diversity in learning science: The logic of everyday sense-making. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(5), 529–552.


Beginning Science Teachers’ Use of Tools to Learn Ambitious Instruction Warren, B., & Rosebery, A. (1995). Equity in the future tense: Redefining relationships among teachers, students, and science in linguistic minority classrooms, In W. Secada, E. Fennema, & L. Adajian, (Eds.), New Directions for Equity in Mathematics Education, 289–328. New York: Cambridge University Press. Wenger, E. (1998). Communities of practice: Learning, meaning, and identity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Windschitl, M., Thompson, J., Braaten, M., & Stroupe, D. (2012). Proposing a core set of instructional practices and tools for teachers of science. Science Education, 96(5), 878–903. Zeichner, K. (2010). Rethinking the connections between campus courses and field experiences in college- and university-based teacher education. Journal of Teacher Edu cation, 61(1–2), 89–99.

Wilson, S. M., & Berne, J. (1999). Teacher learning and the acquisition of professional knowledge: An examination of research on contemporary professional development. Review of Research in Education, 24, 173–209.

David Stroupe is an Assistant Professor of Teacher Education at Michigan State University. He has three overlapping areas of research interests anchored around ambitious teaching practice. First, he frames classrooms as science practice communities. Using lenses from Science, Technology, and Society (STS) and the History and Philosophy of Science (HPS), he examines how teachers and students negotiate power, knowledge, and epistemic agency. Second, he examines how beginning teachers learn from practice in and across their varied contexts. Third, he studies how teacher preparation programs can provide support and opportunities for beginning teachers to learn from practice. David has a background in biology and taught secondary life science for four years. LINK TO: http://michiganstate.academia.edu/DavidStroupe http://tools4teachingscience.org



Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder Teri A. Todd, California State University, Northridge Jennifer Beamer, Oregon State University Joan Goodreau, Rowland Unified School District

ABSTRACT There are increasing demands on the education system to meet the needs of students with autism spectrum disorder and the requests of their parents. Teacherparent partnerships may be one avenue to improve services, however teachers often feel unprepared and lack strategies and skills to effectively engage parents. This multilayered article presents a story from a teacher who is a parent of a student with ASD. It is followed by a discussion of the state of teacher preparation programs and barriers that impede successful partnerships. Suggestions for improving partnerships are included.

Bridging the Gap Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder

T

eachers are highly educated professionals, completing demanding university degrees and accreditations. They are ready and willing to be classroom managers, deliver individualized instruction, coordinate a variety of specialists, and do so with enthusiasm and passion. But are they truly prepared for all special education has in store?


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau Research on the quality of education and teacher preparation programs has been going on for the past 30 years (Unal & Unal, 2014), and has consistently shown that teachers feel unprepared to work with parents. Unfortunately, the results of the research have not manifested into large improvements of the situation. Today’s teachers still report feeling unprepared to meet the challenges of children with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). It is not surprising that parents and other stakeholders express low levels of confidence in the abilities of special education teachers (Tincani, Cucchiarra, Thurman, Snyder, & McCarthy, 2014). As the reported number of children with ASD increase (Frieden, Joffe, Cono, Richards, & Iademarco, 2014), school administrators and teachers will be challenged to effectively serve this growing population. One source of expertise, and also tension, may be parental involvement. In an effort to present different perspectives, this article opens with the voice of a teacher (Teri Todd) who is also a parent of a child on the autism spectrum. A discussion pertaining to information on teacher preparation and ASD, tensions experienced by teachers and parents, along with suggestions for next steps will follow.

A Teacher’s Story As a parent of a son with ASD and an educator, I learned we cannot see the whole picture in Special Education. We need to change our point of view and see the challenges from different perspectives. When I was a Special Education teacher, I sometimes became frustrated with parents who could not come to meetings or follow up with homework. But when I took off my Special Education teacher glasses and put on my parent point of view, I had a better understanding of their challenges and struggles. My parent story about Ian and his preschool teacher happened decades ago, but I always recall it in the present. It happened 30 years ago during a cold Canadian winter when my three-year-old son had just been diagnosed with ASD. As a single mother, I had a hard time finding childcare, and when a teacher called about ways to help Ian, I was too much in a daze to listen. The story went like this: My car refuses to start in the sub-zero weather. I pound on the steering wheel and beg my old Chevy to start. But my car won’t listen. It has heard my pleas before. I walk inside my house to call my son’s teacher. I stare at the phone and rock in my chair the way Ian rocks back and forth in his bed. I don’t want to tell her that I can’t make the conference, but I must call before Ian gets back from school. No one talks on the phone with Ian around.


Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder “I’m sorry Mrs. Browen, the car will not start and I can’t make it today, but is there something I can do with Ian at home?” “Ian will learn his colors much faster if he practices a sorting game with you at home,” Mrs. Browen says. “I want to follow up with what you do at school, Mrs. Browen. Thanks to you, Ian’s starting to follow directions and doesn’t hit himself as much.” “Many parents don’t know where to begin to help their kids, so I’m happy you are going to work with Ian.” Her voice sounds soft yet firm, just the way it does when she talks with her kids in class. I jump out of my chair as soon as I hang up. My old teaching credential would come in handy after all. Who cares if I don’t have money to fix my broken car? Now, I can help fix Ian. This will be easy, right? I take a deep breath and look for the construction paper and cupcake pan Mrs. Browen says I need for Ian’s classifying game. I open kitchen cupboards and pots and pans explode with a crash around my feet. I peer into the dark cave. Where’s the pan? I saw it the last time I baked cupcakes and try to remember when I had last baked. Last Christmas? Ian’s first birthday? I hunt for the pan and construction paper in my girls’ rooms, but all I find is crumpled brown and grey paper along with an empty crayon box. I plan to take the bus and go shopping this weekend with my girls, so they can help me with Ian. He is three, does not talk or go to the bathroom, so if he doesn’t know his colors, what does a few more days matter? But by the weekend, Ian’s nose is running as hard as the snow outside. A few days later, the phone rings and Mrs. Browen asks, “How is Ian getting along with his colors?”

“Great,” I lie.

“Well it always shows when parents help at home,” she says.

What did she mean by that? Can she hear the lie in my voice? I vow to get to the supermarket next weekend, even if I have to walk there pulling Ian in the sled. I had worked with a hundred kids when I taught school. So of course I can teach Ian, I think, can’t I? The broken car, a snowstorm, Ian’s cold—these aren’t my fault are they?


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau The next Saturday, my ten-year-old daughter, Monica, Ian, and I take the bus to the supermarket. Monica pushes Ian, who makes bus noises while in the stroller, down the aisles. We have a short timeline to shop before Ian wants to go home. So we grab bread and milk, along with a cupcake tin, and rush to an open register next to rows of candy bars. Ian stops rocking his head back and forth and snatches a Hershey Bar. I grab his hand, pry the chocolate from his fist and toss it on the counter just out of his reach. His face opens into a pit where a trapped animal howls. Ian’s shrieks hurry the cashier, who rings up the groceries. The people in the other lines just want the screaming to stop, too. They mutter under their breath, “Look at that spoiled brat.” I prefer spoiled brat to autistic. At least brat is in the range of normal. Monica looks up and says, “Everyone’s looking at us, let’s get out of here.” By the time we make it home and put Ian to bed, I am too tired to cut the construction paper squares for the game. But when Ian wakes, I can’t put it off any longer. I set the cupcake tin with different colors in each hole on the table and sit him in his booster chair beside me. I hand him a yellow square. He puts in his mouth. I retrieve the wad and hand him another square. Ian screams and throws it. He kicks his feet against the table, and the cupcake tin crashes to the floor with the squares scattering like confetti. Just then, Monica comes back from a friend’s house and says, “Hey Mom, what’s up? You look beat.”

I point to the jumbled paper squares and tin on the table. “He won’t match colors.”

“Oh yeah, he will,” she says and grabs him and tickles his belly. She has the same intense look as she does when I give Ian bad tasting medicine. The oldest of our family, she believes that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do for your own good, especially if you are her little brother or sister. They go back to sit at the kitchen table. Ian starts to cry, and Monica puts a square into Ian’s hand. Then with her hand over his hand she puts the squished red square into the red hole in the tin. She laughs and says, “good boy.” Monica doesn’t mind his crying. She has heard crying since she was two years old when we brought her little sister, Jennifer home from the hospital. To her, tears are just part of the job that includes changing diapers, naptimes, and spooning down pureed beets. 290 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder “Show me green,” says Monica, and this time he matches the color the first time she tells him. “Good job!” I yell and clap the way I do at Monica’s soccer matches. “He can do it,” I say to Monica. “Sure, you have to do it fast to keep his attention and you just have to stick with it,” she says with all the authority of the eldest child. “Yes, now let me do it,” I say and slide into the chair on the other side of Ian. “Show me red, Ian.” He matches the five remaining colors and I hug him and Monica. Why does my ten-yearold daughter have to show me how? Then I remember another teacher in my old school telling me that it was easier to teach a whole classroom than your own child.

The following Wednesday, Mrs. Browen asks over the telephone, “How’s it going?”

“Oh Ian is matching his colors, he can put the colored squares into the correct hole in the cupcake tin,” I say.

“That’s great. Once you finally got started, he caught on fast.”

How can she know? I want to ask, but all I say is, “Yes there’s nothing to it really. You just have to stick with it.” The key point in my story is that Ian’s teacher, Mrs. Browen, understood I had difficulties at home, as I had shared some of my struggles with her. She was not negative or judgmental. She encouraged any small steps I took and let me take my time. Teachers, like Mrs. Browen, are the crucial component in student success and parent growth. When I became a District Program Specialist, I had to change my perspective again and appreciate both the professional and parent view. The challenge is to balance parent expectations for their child with the reality of the classroom. Special Education teachers face time constraints, IEP requirements, curriculum demands, limited resources and large classes, which all can interfere with a teacher’s empathy of what parents face at home. Parents also see their problems from their own standpoint and sometimes make unrealistic demands on teachers. The only way to bring these two viewpoints together is


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau for parents and teachers to become aware of each other’s problems and work together. Teacher preparation programs may be a vital staging ground to begin to bridge the gap between parents and teachers. However as will be discussed, teacher development is complex, and there remain many challenges as the field struggles to keep up with the demand.

Teacher Preparation Special education services throughout North America have evolved over the last two decades. As people with disabilities are no longer routinely institutionalized, the conditions and characteristics of various disabilities and accompanying individual educational needs have gained both understanding and acceptance within the public and political environment. The following discussion will utilize statistics and policy based mostly on United States’ observations. However, it is our belief that concerns regarding inclusion of students with disabilities are not unique to this country (Hutchinson, 2006; Leblanc, Richardson, & Burns, 2009; Winzer, 2007). Therefore, we will use a perspective that should be interpreted from a North American lens, which has been informed by research, practice, and policy based mostly in the United States. Under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), elementary and secondary special education teachers are required to be “highly qualified.” The definition of “highly qualified,” within IDEA, closely aligns with the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, and requires highly qualified teachers to: 1) have a bachelor’s degree, 2) have full state certification or licensure, and 3) demonstrate subject-matter knowledge for the subjects they teach. While reports indicate that almost 90% of special education teachers are “highly qualified,” there is a considerable shortage of teachers qualified to serve students with emotional disturbance/behavioral disorders and ASD (Institute of Education Sciences, U.S. Department of Education, 2011). In particular, 46% of districts routinely experience difficulty finding qualified applicants to serve students with ASD. Special education teachers are charged with a multitude of responsibilities that are arguably unique from general education teachers. By nature, students with disabilities are unique and require individualized instruction, as evidenced by the Individuals With Disabilities Education Act (IDEA, 2004). In the US, approximately 13% of the student population are receiving special education services, and nearly half a million of those served have been diagnosed with ASD (U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics, 2013). Furthermore, as with all students with disabilities, students with ASD spend varying amounts of time in different educational placements. The latest figures estimated that in the US, in 2011, 39% of students with ASD spent 80% 292 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder or more of their school day in the general class; 18.2% spent between 40% and 79% in the general class; and 33.7% spent less than 40% in the general class. Additionally, 9.1% of students with ASD were served in separate facilities or residential programs (U.S. Department of Education Institute of Education Sciences National Center for Education Statistics, 2013). In Canada, the distribution of students with ASD in various class settings is less clear. However, it is likely that there is a similar picture to that of US classroom settings, as 55% of Canadian students with disabilities attend regular classes in the regular school setting (Kohen, Uppal, Khan, & Visentin, 2006). Considering the unique qualities of individuals with ASD, along with their varying educational needs, it is clear that special educators need training to work with students across a wide range of service delivery systems.

Teacher Preparation Programs and ASD As the number of students being identified on the autism spectrum rises, so does concern regarding teacher preparation. While early reports indicate that special education teachers were not prepared to work with students with ASD (Schopler & Olley, 1980), the issue has been revisited with calls for more specific training of teachers and service providers who have autism-specific knowledge (Simpson, 1995, 2003, 2004). However, with the call for specialized training comes a particular dilemma as the field of special education training has trended towards models that include a non-categorical and cross-categorical approach. While non-categorical approaches are helpful in moving away from the medical model and focusing on the individual needs of each student, this has not translated into better education in the eyes of stakeholders. As the number of children with ASD continues to increase and become one of the largest groups of students with differing abilities in the school system, institutes of higher education (IHEs) will have to evaluate this approach. Of particular concern is the lack of scope and depth of many training models within preparation programs. In fact, personnel preparation has been highlighted as “one of the weakest elements of effective programming for children with autistic spectrum disorders and their families” (National Research Council, 2001, p. 225). While over a decade has passed since the National Research Council’s (NRC, 2001) published recommendations for educating students with ASD, it appears that concerns regarding personnel training remain. While it is clear that training efforts are in place and that programs directed toward serving students with ASD exist, researchers have also provided evidence that many stakeholders are not confident in the efficacy of these efforts.


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau A recent study by Tincani and colleagues (Tincani et al., 2014) examined NRC’s recommendations and investigated if they were accepted and perceived as valid by consumers. The researchers also looked into the degree to which the recommendations have been implemented. With 149 parent respondents and administrators from 35 different state educational agencies, the results indicated that while parents and administrators were in general agreement with the NRC recommendations, implementation of these recommendations are perceived as poor to moderate. In regard to personnel preparation, while both parents and administrators expressed concern over low levels of implementation, it was clear that parents had little confidence in the training of teachers and other support professionals. Certainly these perceptions are valid, and perhaps more concerning, they appear to reflect a reality of a lack of qualified ASD personnel in schools (Morrier, Hess, & Heflin, 2011; Schwartz & Drager, 2008). Without a doubt, there still exists a substantial need for increased teacher preparation; however this problem is complicated by multiple factors, including a general lack of consensus on effective training models. Evidence for an ideal curriculum or intervention appropriate for all students with ASD has yet to be provided (McKenna, 2007; National Research Council, 2001). Yet, there are several reviews that highlight agreed-upon essential programming elements for students of all ages with ASD (Dawson & Osterling, 1997; Hurth, Shaw, Izeman, Whaley, & Rogers, 1999; National Research Council, 2001). These elements have been synthesized by Iovannone, Dunlap, Huber, and Kincaid (2003) into six components: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

individualized supports and services for students and families, systematic instruction, comprehensive and/or structured environments, specialized curriculum content, functional approach to behavior problems, and family involvement. (p. 153)

With these components in mind, a relatively recent study surveyed IHEs in an effort to ascertain the topics included in ASD coursework and the depth to which they were addressed (Barnhill, Polloway, & Sumutka, 2011). Faculty members at 87 IHEs in 34 states responded to surveys. Researchers found that a large number of IHEs are offering preparation programs related to ASD, yet there is substantial variability in the nature of these programs. The authors concluded that this variability could be due to the fact that relatively few states offer a licensure program in the area of ASD, which leaves IHEs without much guidance in terms of development of programs and related competencies. Further, certification/endorsements are determined by state agencies, 294 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder and IHEs can only offer certification/endorsements allowed by their state, again leaving most IHEs on their own for developing programs for training in ASD. Despite the variability in program development and competencies for ASD, a clear majority of the opportunities for training included a “hands-on” experience component, which comprised direct work with individuals with ASD. Several other commonalities were noted in emphases reflected in programs such as characteristics, causes, definitions, assessment procedures, functional behavioral assessment, behavioral intervention, and positive behavioral supports. Less common were more specific types of interventions (e.g., discrete trial training, pivotal response training, etc.) and family involvement. As many of the programs surveyed were new and many of the IHEs reported “plans” to create programs in the near future, this appears to be a burgeoning area with the likelihood of changes and developments up ahead. There is considerable effort under way to provide guidelines and recommendations to IHEs and other stakeholders concerned with the education of students who have ASD. The Nationals Standards Project (National Autism Center, 2009) is a large-scale report providing critical information about which treatments have been shown to be effective for individuals with ASD, and will likely have an impact on future program development and areas of focus within IHEs. Additionally, the Council for Exceptional Children (2009) in collaboration with the Autism Society of America have published professional competencies for teaching students with ASD. The National Standards Project identified 11 types of interventions, which are supported by scientific evidence as being effective instructional strategies for students with ASD. However, preparing special education teachers to be effective interventionists in that many treatments may be untenable, and finding master teachers knowledgeable in all treatments near to impossible. The results of a recent survey shed some interesting light on how pre-service teachers gain knowledge of the different treatments (Porter, Todd, & Regalado, 2013). Treatments with clearly defined observable steps (e.g., modeling, schedule-based, and self-management interventions) received higher observation and practice scores than treatments that are embedded in instruction and perhaps difficult to readily observe (PRT, joint attention). Perhaps the emphasis of personnel preparation need not be so focused on intervention training and specialization, but also on components that include engaging key stakeholders— such as families. Additional topics in the curriculum such as understanding family backgrounds, concepts of caring, parent and sibling stress, and coping mechanisms will provide the student teacher with tools for engaging parents in their classroom.


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau Teachers and stakeholders agree that teacher-parent partnerships enhance the educational experience for students; however this topic is generally not addressed in-depth in teacher preparation programs. This leads to two problems: First, teachers are not equipped with strategies and communication skills to engage with parents. Secondly, the fact that the topic was not addressed in university, or professional development, sends the message that it is not important (Unal & Unal, 2014). Several researchers created a questionnaire and interview guide to evaluate pre- and in-service teachers’ perspectives on preparation in parental involvement strategies, and explored their opinions on what they felt teacher preparation programs should offer in this area (Unal & Unal, 2014). The questionnaire was given to 223 pre- and in-service teachers at five IHEs in years 1, 2, and 3 of the teacher preparation programs. Overall, teachers felt they had received little preparation for parent involvement. Over 65% of pre-service teachers felt that a course in parental involvement would be helpful. As the preservice teachers completed fieldwork and realized the importance of teacher-parent relationships, they expressed less satisfaction with the amount and type of knowledge presented in their programs (Unal & Unal, 2014). The importance of effective strategies was highlighted in an in-depth study of teacher practices at inner-city schools in a major city. Results of the qualitative study reported that teacher preparation programs that do address parent involvement strategies, often fashioned on Epstein’s model, can bring about a change in teachers’ perception of parents and consequently increase parental involvement (Lewis, Kim, & Bey, 2011). The above suggestions and resources can provide personnel preparation programs with comprehensive guidance for training educators who will be responsible for teaching students with ASD, which will ultimately benefit both individuals with ASD and their families.

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships Parents approach schools with anticipation and hope, often very knowledgeable about current practices, which they may have been implementing in the home. Unfortunately, tension can arise between parental expectations and the realities of the classroom, or from a teacher’s perspective of a parent’s skills and effectiveness. Though teacher-parent partnerships are increasingly realized as vital to student success (Abel, 2012) and can benefit all parties (Epstein & Dauber, 1991), they are seldom fully realized, as both parties face distinct barriers. Parents may not know what volunteer opportunities are available, may not have time to volunteer due to younger children at home, may work during school hours, or may lack confidence in the educational process (Margaritoiu & Eftimie, 2011). Teachers have reported barriers which include: 296 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder not knowing effective strategies to engage parents; not having enough time after completing all their other tasks to address parent engagement; and not realizing the value of family participation. However, parents need to be involved with their child’s school. Miedel and Reynolds (1999) surveyed parents and interviewed teachers at an early intervention program for at-risk preschoolers in a large city. They found a strong relationship between a parent’s involvement in school activities, reading achievement, and the child’s likelihood of being retained in a special education classroom through Grade 8. The more activities the parents were involved in the less likely the child was to be retained in special education. Activities included helping on field trips and in the classroom, attending school meetings and parent-teacher conferences, as well as having a home visit by the teacher. The authors of this study emphasized that teachers in the schools involved in the study actively invited the parents to participate in a variety of school-related activities. The rate of parent involvement was high; this is a good example of a successful parent involvement program. Unfortunately, teacher-parent communication and involvement is not generally addressed in teacher preparation programs (Unal & Unal, 2014). Consequently, teachers often feel ill prepared to collaborate with parents or simply do not value or seek out such a relationship. Parent involvement can take many dimensions and should not be limited to once-a-year IEP meetings. Epstein (1991) conceptualized parental involvement as having six components: (1) participating in parenting, (2) communicating with teachers and schools, (3) volunteering at school, (4) helping children learn at home, (5) participating in decision making at school, and (6) collaborating with the community. Participating in parenting refers to creating a home environment that supports children as students. Teachers who are equipped with strategies that target a range of components will have an easier time promoting parent involvement at many different levels. Many teachers may start with the second component, communication, which has been found essential in student success. Teacher-parent communication can be perceived as a challenge by teachers and pre-service teachers (Busby, Ingram, Bowron, Olive, & Lyons, 2012). During interviews, teachers and pre-service teachers shared their concern about the amount of time commitment necessary in establishing teacher-parent communication (Busby et al., 2012). Though valuing parent collaboration, teachers were concerned about the additional time commitment with all of their other responsibilities. The quality of teacher-parent communication may also be an obstacle. It tends to be uni-directional as the teacher often sends information to the family in the way of notices or reports


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau without expectation of a response. An emphasis on two-way communication should be highlighted to attain best results (Abel, 2012). Teacher-parent communication exchanges can also be complicated with differences in perspectives. A recent survey of school-family relationships found that “there is a real need for training teachers about how to relate to parents” (Margaritoiu & Eftimie, 2011, p. 46) and that teachers and parents have very different perceptions of barriers to parental involvement. The results of a survey to teachers and families found that secondary school teachers felt low levels of parent involvement were due to a lack of parent responsibility, indifference, low levels of parent education, attitudes of superiority, fear of confrontation with the teacher, or health problems. The parents’ answers to the same question revealed a different perspective. They cited lack of time being the primary reason for low involvement followed by lack of confidence in the school system, hostile attitude, large number of family members, lack of information, and health problems. With differing perceptions of the same issue it is not surprising that effective communication and strategies to remedy the problem were not readily forthcoming. Recent studies have shown that teachers of children with behavioral challenges often identify problems in the home to be the cause; more specifically, mothers are often thought to be responsible for their child’s emotional and social difficulties (Broomhead, 2013). References to “dysfunctional family,” “ineffective parenting,” or a “lack of discipline” are used frequently in reference to families. Not surprisingly, parents often state they feel that professionals blame them for their child’s behavior. Therefore, communication between the two parties can become strained if one party feels blamed by the other. Teachers may also not completely understand the stress of the family. Research has demonstrated that parents of children with ASD experience higher levels of stress and lower levels of well-being than parents of children without ASD or any other type of disability (Baker-Ericzen, Brookman-Frazer, & Stahmer, 2005). In particular, the parents experience unique challenges associated with ASD such as frustration with communication, over-stimulation, and challenging behavior (Baker, Blacher, Crnic, & Edelbrock, 2002). In addition, a higher number of parents of children with ASD exhibit a broader autism phenotype (BAP), which includes subtle impairments in social reciprocity and communication, increases in restricted/repetitive interests and behaviors, and more psychiatric symptoms (Piven, 2001) than the general population. Therefore, some parents may have limited resources available to cope with the demands of a child with ASD. These deficits also make it difficult to interact effectively with teachers and other professionals involved in their child’s life. 298 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder Parents of children with ASD cope with stress in a variety of ways, some more effectively than others. Two researchers recently studied the effect of 12 coping strategies used by parents of children with ASD (Pottie & Ingram, 2008). Certain coping responses were found to be associated with positive outcomes. However, other coping strategies frequently used by parents of children with ASD led to negative outcomes. Certainly, personality of the parent and context of the event influenced the effectiveness of each strategy. That withstanding, certain strategies proved more effective in reducing parent stress and improving well-being. Table 1 shows a list of the coping strategies and outcomes. Teachers can use this table to recognize if a parent is using an ineffective coping strategy, and at that point the teacher can model an effective strategy. Instead of a breakdown in parent-teacher interaction this approach can lead to better communication. Additionally, the teacher can recognize that at this point in time the parent is experiencing a great deal of stress and may not be able to use a better strategy, therefore it may not be a good time to exchange a large amount of information.

Table 1 Recognizing Strategies Commonly Used by Parents of Children With ASD That Increase or Decrease Well-Being (Pottie & Ingram, 2008) STRATEGY

IMPROVES WELL-BEING AND DECREASES STRESS

Problem Focused: taking action to deal with a difficult or stressful situation in a concrete or organized manner

•

Social Support: reaching out to others for emotional and/or practical/concrete assistance

• •

Escape or Avoidance: removing or disengaging oneself from the stressful situation, or refusing to accept the reality of the situation Distraction: dealing with a stressful situation by engaging in an alternative pleasurable activity or self-care

•

Blaming: actions that involve frustration, anger, blaming, or passive aggression Positive reframing: changing one’s view of a stressful situation in order to see it in a positive/more tolerable light

DECREASES WELL-BEING

•

•


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau Table 1 Recognizing Strategies Commonly Used by Parents of Children With ASD That Increase or Decrease Well-Being (Pottie & Ingram, 2008) (cont.) STRATEGY

IMPROVES WELL-BEING AND DECREASES STRESS

•

Worrying: constant or frequent thinking about the negative or difficult aspects of a stressful situation Emotional Regulation: controlling or expressing emotional distress in a way that is constructive or appropriate for the situation

• •

Withdrawal: staying away from certain people or preventing others from knowing about the stressful situation or its emotional effects Compromise: working out a compromise between the priorities/ needs of the individual and the limits of the stressful situation Helplessness: giving up or surrendering control because the stressor was/is overwhelming

DECREASES WELL-BEING

• •

Successful programs require ongoing communication between parents and teachers. Parents seek out educators that want family involvement and are willing to communicate with them on a regular basis. When teachers see parents from an asset perspective (Abel, 2012), they are more open to working on two-way communication and doing background work to supply parents with the resources required to teach skills at home. Accordingly, teachers with positive attitudes regarding parental involvement may have more success engaging “hard-to-reach” parents (Abel, 2012).

Conclusion One in every 68 children is currently diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder (Frieden et al., 2014). While changes in teacher preparation programs are occurring, it appears they are not keeping up with demands of the students and families. Teacher-parent communication and collaboration offers important support for 300 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder students with ASD. Teacher preparation programs and school administrators should incorporate course work and workshops to help teachers develop skills and strategies to communicate with, and involve parents in, their child’s education. These programs should also create opportunity for teachers’ development in understanding the needs and stress encountered by families of students on the autism spectrum. Recent studies in which pre-service teachers, teachers, and parents were surveyed and interviewed can be summarized into several recommendations for teacher preparation programs and school administrators. At the top of the list is having the opportunity to meet and interact with parents and family members of children with disabilities. To that point, some pre-service teachers suggested a course on parental involvement (Busby et al., 2012). Next, workshops on 1) strategies to increase communication and parental involvement, 2) family concepts including parent efficacy, 3) specific information on successful parental involvement programs, and 4) empirically validated and best practices for instruction including children with ASD were also suggested (Busby et al., 2012; Hoover-Dempsey Walker, Jones, & Reed, 2002; Unal & Unal, 2014). Additionally, teachers in training should have the opportunity to observe parental involvement in the classroom and schools, and witness effective teacher-parent communication (Unal & Unal, 2014). Taken together, these training and professional development strategies will provide a strong basis on which to build teacher-parent partnerships—and which will ultimately improve the education of students with ASD.

Final Note From Parent-Teacher No one can raise a child with diverse learning skills alone. My son’s growth depended on close, consistent communication with his teachers throughout his school years. I learned how to follow up on what Ian learned at school. His teachers learned what challenges our family faced. The more his teachers and I understood each other’s perspectives, the more we could work together as a team.

References Abel, Y. (2012). Process into products: Supporting teachers to engage parents. Education and Urban Society, 46, 181–191. doi:10.1177/0013124512446307

Baker, B., Blacher, J., Crnic, K., & Edlebrock, C. (2007). Behavior problems and parenting stress in families of three-year old children with and without developmental delays. American Journal of Mental Retardation, 107, 433–444.


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau Baker-Ericzen, M., Brookman-Frazee, L., & Stahmer, A. (2005). Stress levels and adaptability in parents of toddlers with and without autism spectrum disorder. Research & Practice for Person With Severe Disabilities, 30, 194–204. Barnhill, G. P., Polloway, E. A., & Sumutka, B. M. (2011). A survey of personnel preparation practices in autism spectrum disorders. Focus on Autism & Other Developmental Disabilities, 26(2), 75–86. doi:10.1177/1088357610378292 Broomhead, K. (2013). Blame, guilt and the need for ‘labels’; insights from parents of children with special educational needs and educational practitioners. British Journal of Special Education, 40(1), 14–21. Busby, R., Ingram, R., Bowron, R., Olive, J., & Lyons, B. (2012). Teaching elementary children with autism: Addressing teacher challenges and preparation needs. Rural Educator, winter, 27–35. Council for Exceptional Children. (2009). What every special educator must know: Ethics, standards, and guidelines (6th ed. rev.). Arlington, VA: Author. Dawson, G., & Osterling, J. (1997). Early intervention in autism. In M. Guralnick (Ed.), The effectiveness of early intervention (pp. 307–326). Baltimore, MD: Brookes. Epstein, J. L. (1991). Effect on student achievement of teachers’ practices of parent involvement. Advances in Reading and Language Research, 5, 261–276. Epstein, J. L., & Dauber, S., L. (1991). School programs and teacher practices of parent involvement in inner-city elementary and middle schools. The Elementary School Journal, 91, 289–305. Frieden, T. R., Joffe, H. O., Cono, J., Richards, C.L., & Iademarco, M. F. (2014). Prevalence of Autism Spectrum Disorder Among Children Aged 8 Years — Autism and Developmental Disabilities Monitoring Network, 11 Sites, United States, 2010. MMWR, SS02, 1–21. Hoover-Dempsey, K. V., Walker, J. M., Jones, K. P., & Reed, R. P. (2002). Teachers involving parents (TIP): Results of an in-service teacher education program for enhancing parental involvement. Teaching and Teacher Education, 18, 843–867.

Hurth, J., Shaw, E., Izeman, S. G., Whaley, K., & Rogers, S. J. (1999). Areas of agreement about effective practices among programs serving young children with autism spectrum disorders. Infants & Young Children: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Special Care Practices, 12(2), 17. Hutchinson, N. (2006). Inclusion of exceptional learners in Canadian schools: A practical handbook for teachers. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Pearson Education, Inc. IDEA. (2004). Individuals With Disabilities Edu cation Improvement Act of 2004. Institute of Education Sciences, U.S. Department of Education. (2011). National Assessment of IDEA Overview; IDEA National Assessment Implementation Study Executive Summary and Report (Indexes; Offices). Retrieved from: http://ies.ed.gov/ncee/pubs/20114026/ Iovannone, R., Dunlap, G., Huber, H., & Kincaid, D. (2003). Effective educational practices for students with autism spectrum disorders. Focus on Autism & Other Developmental Disabilities, 18(3), 150–165. Kohen, D., Uppal, S., Khan, S., & Visentin, L. (2006). Access and barriers to educational services for Canadian children with disabilities. Retrieved from: http://www.ccl-cca.ca/CCL/Reports/ OtherReports/201009KohenUppalKhanVise ntinAccessBarriers.html Leblanc, L., Richardson, W., & Burns, K. A. (2009). Autism spectrum disorder and the inclusive classroom: Effective training to enhance knowledge of ASD and evidence-based practices. Teacher Education and Special Education, 32(2), 166–179. Lewis, L. L., Kim, Y. A., & Bey, J. A. (2011). Teaching practices and strategies to involve inner-city parents at home and in the school. Teaching and Teacher Education, 27, 221–234. Margaritoiu, A., & Eftimie, S. (2011). Some issues concerning school-family partnerships. Procedia Social and Behavioral Sciences, 11, 42–46. McKenna, K. (2007). Confronting the autism epidemic. Harvard Education Letter, 23(5), 1–6. Miedel, W. T., & Reynolds, A. J. (1999). Parent involvement in early intervention for disadvantaged children: Does it matter? Journal of School Psychology, 37, 379–402.


Bridging the Gap: Teacher-Parent Partnerships for Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder Morrier, M. J., Hess, K. L., & Heflin, L. J. (2011). Teacher training for implementation of teaching strategies for students with autism spectrum disorders. Teacher Education and Special Education: The Journal of the Teacher Education Division of the Council for Exceptional Children, 34(2), 119–132. doi:10.1177/0888406410376660 National Autism Center. (2009). National Standards Report: The National Standards Project – addressing the need for evidencebased practice guidelines for autism spectrum disorders. Randolph, MA: Author. Retrieved from: http://www.nationalautismcenter.org/ pdf/NAC%20Standards%20Report.pdf National Research Council. (2001). Educating Children With Autism. Committee on Educational Interventions for Children With Autism. Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences and Education. Washington, DC: National Academy Press. Retrieved from: ht tp: //prox y. librar y.ore gons tate.e du/ login?url=http://search.ebscohost.com/ login.aspx?direct=true&db=eric&AN=ED461 956&site=ehost-live Piven, J. (2001). The Broad Autism Phenotype: A complementary strategy for molecular genetic studies of autism. American Journal of Medical Genetics, 105, 34–35. Porter, S., Todd, T., & Regalado, M. (2013). Validation of the California Preparedness to teach students with Autism (CAPTSA): Survey for Pre-service special education teachers. International Journal of Cross-Disciplinary Subjects in Education, 4, 1456–1478. Pottie, C. G., & Ingram, K. M. (2008). Daily stress, coping, and well-being in parents of children with autism: A multilevel modeling approach. Journal of Family Psychology, 22, 855–864. Schopler, E., & Olley, J. G. (1980). Public School Programming for Autistic Children. Exceptional Children, 46(6), 461–463.

Simpson, R. L. (1995). Children and youth with autism in an age of reform: A perspective on current issues. Behavioral Disorders, 21(1), 7–20. Simpson, R. L. (2003). Policy-related research issues and perspectives. Focus on Autism & Other Developmental Disabilities, 18(3), 192–196. Simpson, R. L. (2004). Finding effective intervention and personnel preparation practices for students with autism spectrum disorders. Exceptional Children, 70(2), 135–144. doi:10.1177/001440290407000201 Tincani, M., Cucchiarra, M., Thurman, S., Snyder, M., & McCarthy, C. (2014). Evaluating NRC’s recommendations for educating children with autism a decade later. Child & Youth Care Forum, 43(3), 315–337. doi:10.1007/ s10566-013-9240-z Unal, Z., & Unal, A. (2014). Perspectives of preservice and in-service teachers on their preparation to work with parents in elementary classrooms. The Educational Forum, 78, 112–126. doi:10.1080/00131725.2013.878425 U.S. Department of Education Institute of Education Sciences National Center for Education Statistics. (2013). Percent distribution of students 6 to 21 years old served under Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), Part B, by educational environment and type of disability: Selected years, fall 1989 through fall 2011 (No. Table 204.60). Retrieved from: http://nces.ed.gov/programs/digest/ d13/tables/dt13_204.60.asp U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics. (2013). Digest of Education Statistics, 2012 (Table 48). Retrieved from: http://nces.ed.gov/fastfacts/display. asp?id=64 Winzer, M. (2007). Children with exceptionalities in Canadian schools. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Pearson Education, Inc.

Schwartz, H., & Drager, K. D. R. (2008). Training and knowledge in autism among speechlanguage pathologists: A survey. Language, Speech, and Hearing Services in Schools, 39(1), 66–77.


Teri A. Todd, Jennifer Beamer, and Joan Goodreau

Teri Todd

is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Kinesiology at California State University, Northridge. Her primary research interests center around physical activity and individuals with developmental disabilities, particularly those on the autism spectrum. Teri is the Director of Clinical Operations at the Center of Achievement Through Adapted Physical Activity at CSUN, teaches classes, and is developing adapted physical activity programs for children with developmental disabilities. As a parent of a son with Autism Spectrum Disorder she realizes first-hand how complicated, but essential, family support is for individuals with developmental disabilities.

Jennifer Beamer is an Instructor at Oregon State University in Corvallis, Oregon. Her primary research interests revolve around the preparation of physical educators and physical activity professionals for working with people who have disabilities. Her work at there includes teaching physical education teacher education courses, advising students, and serving as co-director for the IMPACT program—a physical activity program for children and youth with disabilities. The program acts as a service learning experience for students at OSU, as well as a valuable resource for nearly 100 families in the surrounding communities in need of physical activity opportunities.

Joan Goodreau is the parent of an adult son with Autism Spectrum Disorder. Her experience as a Special Education teacher and Program Specialist gives her both a professional and personal perspective. She has published numerous articles, stories, and poems in journals and anthologies in Canada and the United States. Her recent books are Strangers Together: How My Son’s Autism Changed My Life and Poems From the Spectrum: How My Son’s Autism Changed My Family.


Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie, York University

ABSTRACT This paper explores how the work of the infusion of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories at York University’s Faculty of Education Barrie Site unfolds in practice. It also highlights the learning experiences of pre-service teachers, the majority of whom were non-Aboriginal. Using narrative accounts of practice in faculty and practicum classrooms, the authors elaborate on a set of guiding principles to highlight their practical application by demonstrating what their implementation looks like in local school classrooms. They subsequently describe the challenges faced by faculty and pre-service teachers as they moved theoretical knowledge into practical settings.

I

n 2008, the Teacher Education Program at York University’s Barrie Site began the First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Infusion (i.e., the Infusion) (See Vetter & Blimkie, 2011). The objective of the Infusion was, and continues to be, to develop teacher candidates’ knowledge of Indigenous histories, cultures, perspectives, and contemporary issues to respond to the specific needs and interests of Indigenous students, and therefore facilitate respectful and relevant learning for all students in Ontario classrooms.

The specific objectives of the Infusion at the Barrie Site include: • placing land, Indigenous peoples, and relationships, in all their complexities of languages and cultures, central to the development of sound and caring teaching practices;


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie • excising deficit theorizing from our hearts and minds; and • examining critically what it means to take seriously Indigenous peoples, lands, and perspectives in development of culturally responsive pedagogies in Ontario schools (Haig-Brown, 2008). Through analysis of teacher candidates’ responses shared in focus groups and questionnaires of our exploratory case study, we articulated a set of guiding principles for teaching Aboriginal content in culturally respectful and meaningful ways (Blimkie, Vetter, & Haig-Brown, 2014). The principles are: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Understand that “not knowing” is an opportunity for learning Recognize diversity of histories and teachings Create space for alternate perspectives Teach in context, using resources responsibly Move from inclusion to infusion

In this paper, we will expand upon each of these principles to highlight their practical application and demonstrate what the implementation looks like in local school classrooms. We will also describe the challenges faced by faculty and pre-service teachers as they moved theoretical knowledge into practical settings. Our work uses narrative inquiry (Bruner, 2003) and the power of story (King, 2003) to make meaning of the experiences of the Infusion.

Understand That “Not Knowing” Is an Opportunity for Learning Embracing this first principle was a big leap for teacher candidates. In our classroom they expressed their concerns about lacking the confidence to work within a context that was outside of their comfort zone in terms of knowledge and understanding. Despite studying foundational education theorists (e.g., Bruner, 1966; Freire, 1974; Wells & Chang-Wells, 1992) whose work emphasized that educators could no longer be seen as expert repositories of knowledge to be transmitted to students, our teacher candidates remained reluctant to admit “not knowing” (Blimkie et al., 2014) to their students and mentor teachers. Consequently, as Dion (2007) has pointed out, some used movement to the position of “perfect stranger“ as justification for avoiding Aboriginal content and pedagogies in their classes.


Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education At the Barrie Site, we addressed this issue by replacing a required Models of Education course with a course entitled, “Issues in Indigenous Education.” While this step worked to assuage some of the fears held by our teacher candidates, we realized that the enormity of the content could barely be touched by a 36-hour course. If we were to expect our teacher candidates to take the Infusion concept into local classrooms, we needed a strategy that supported them in their daily practice. Therefore, we modeled the process of engaging in “collaborative meaning making” (Wells & Chang-Wells, 1992) to support teacher candidates in understanding that learning with students is a valuable exercise, and that infusing First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories could be undertaken by holding true to the following three objectives: 1. Demonstrating respect for First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories 2. Taking responsibility for increasing their personal understanding and learning collaboratively with their students 3. Facilitating meaningful learning through relationship-building with First Nation, Métis, and Inuit peoples and organizations in the region

Demonstrating Respect for First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Traditions, Perspectives, and Histories Our objective of demonstrating respect sounded quite straightforward; however, moving the Infusion into local schools challenged our teacher candidates when respect, coupled with genuine enthusiasm, verged on appropriation of stories or traditions over which they held no cultural authority. Therefore, thoughtful consideration of what both teacher candidates and faculty brought to their respective classrooms and how we all did so necessarily permeated every action. The following is one example of how we attempted to demonstrate respect for tradition: We were fortunate to have the support of local First Nation, Métis, and Inuit community members who shared their knowledge and guided our work. We had learned about the tradition of giving a gift of tobacco. So, prior to the visit of a local Elder to our classroom we would discuss this tradition and the fine line between demonstrating respect and appropriating tradition. In one class, we had a teacher candidate who had always lived in a rural setting close to a First Nation community. As a way of life, he had always honoured and respected their traditions. As a farmer, he also grew his own crops, including tobacco. He offered to prepare a tie of tobacco from his farm for our visiting Elder. The teacher candidates agreed that this was a fitting gift, due to the personal history and understandings of the tradition that our teacher candidate held.


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie Another year, no member of the class had that same understanding and the teacher candidates were concerned about how they might honour the tradition without feeling they had appropriated something that was not their own. After much discussion, they decided to choose a book as a gift for the Elder. In presenting the gift, it was explained that the book represented knowledge and was given to honour the sharing of knowledge that the Elder had brought to the class. The decision to give a gift other than tobacco stemmed from a lack of full understanding of the cultural protocol, a fear of crossing the line between showing respect and appropriating traditions without cultural authority, and a hesitancy to ask directly. The following statement from one of the course directors explains further: During the first year of the Infusion at the Barrie site (2008-2009) I received a teaching on tobacco from which I inferred that, as someone who had a very introductory knowledge of tobacco, I needed to be careful about using it to thank First Nation people, especially people who I did not know. While visiting the six teacher candidates at their First Nation placements in Garden River and Sault Ste. Marie, we were invited to a drumming circle at the home of one of our First Nation partners. Before the drumming circle, one teacher candidate asked me if we should give tobacco, as she was unsure if it was culturally appropriate. I acknowledged that I was also uncertain and shared my interpretation of the teaching on tobacco that I had received the previous year, but I told her that it was her decision to make. She decided not to give tobacco because she did not know the teachings of tobacco. At the drumming circle, we asked our First Nation partner about giving tobacco, and his response was that we did not have to give tobacco, but “it would have been nice.” I felt awful. Not only did we not give tobacco, but my words most likely deterred the teacher candidates from doing so. As one of our partners said, “You were thinking with your mind rather than your heart.” Rather than taking the time to feel the atmosphere at the drumming circle, I generalized my limited knowledge on tobacco to all situations. From this experience, we learned about respecting cultural protocol, which may be different depending on the community as well as the person. We began to see the insincerity of broad generalizations and we learned the importance of asking our First Nation partners if they would like to be given tobacco when they share their knowledge and experience with us. (M. Blimkie, personal communication, May 26, 2010) The extrapolation of the tobacco learning experience began to appear in the work of our teacher candidates in their host classrooms. For example, one teacher candidate read her class a story from a published text about dream catchers (Meuse-Dallien,


Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education 2003); however, understanding the sacred significance of the dream catcher, she did not turn it into the classroom craft-making activity that it might have easily become. The discussion of cultural appropriation and authority led to the consideration of normalization, and the impact of Aboriginal culture on ways that we may now consider to be simply Canadian. Saul’s (2009), A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada, became a required course text and subject of critical analysis. As an example of how this conversation moved into schools, our teacher candidates recognized that the concept of the circle has for many years been normalized in a number of classrooms, particularly in the primary divisions. In their host classrooms, teacher candidates respected Indigenous ways of knowing by acknowledging the history of the Talking Circle, so that children might be aware of its origins and the significance of the circle to Indigenous peoples (Simcoe Catholic District School Board, 2008). To undertake work of the Infusion by demonstrating respect, we need to continue learning about cultural protocols, develop further understandings about the importance of cultural authority, and remember to ask for clarification when we are unsure.

Taking Responsibility for Increasing Their Personal Understanding and Learning Collaboratively With Their Students In taking responsibility for personal learning, and that of the students in our faculty and in the schools where they undertake practicum, we relied on the following quotation from Kulchyski (2005) to give emphasis to this understanding: In the minutiae of quotidian life, in the presuppositions of service providers, in the structures of State actions and inactions, in the continuing struggles over land use, in the whole trajectory of policies and plans, the work of the conquest is being completed here and now. By our generation…You who remain silent while this injustice continues, you are responsible. Here. And now. (p. 3) While a small minority of teacher candidates remained resistant to the notion, most engaged readily in taking responsibility for self-evaluating and expanding their knowledge (Blimkie et al., 2014). In conversation with teacher candidates, we realized that two major gaps existed in their understandings. The first gap represented the issues that had been omitted from their prior education, such as the existence and intergenerational impact of residential schooling. The second gap encompassed what they thought they knew and how that


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie knowing was often misconstrued by misconceptions and stereotypical beliefs. One teacher candidate stated: I remember feeling surprised and shocked that I didn’t know as much as I thought I did. I think part of it was because I’ve been educated in the area of whoever’s agenda it is…I guess you think that Canada is a free country. That everyone is so happy and we don’t really have any dirt, but there’s a ton of dirt here that we don’t talk about it. (June 2010 Focus Group 2, Participant 2) With an intent to address the gaps of understanding and misunderstanding, challenge thinking, and provide a space for teacher candidates to become agents of change, we made compulsory an Issues in Indigenous Education course that had the following objectives: 1. Explore the ongoing impact of colonization 2. Promote decolonizing approaches by challenging deficit thinking 3. Present successful educational models with the possibility of practitioners integrating aspects of these methods into personal practice The course also facilitated independent research on topics of specific interest to teacher candidates that were subsequently presented to the class in order to share the understandings. The evaluation followed a circle framework (Blimkie, Vetter, & Stewart, 2011; McGregor, 2008/2010), and encompassed learning from spirit, heart, mind, and body. In this framework, students were assessed relative to their learning goals with the format open to multiple means of representation, including oral, dance, multimedia, text, music, art, and drama. In the primary host classrooms, the sharing of independent research that was undertaken in the faculty classroom morphed into a “Knowing Basket,” which is a large basket where children could contribute hand-written texts, drawings, names of favourite books, or weblinks, and so forth. A popular free-time activity in some host classrooms became going to the Knowing Basket and exploring something new. The content of the basket reflected a wide array of topics and interests, many of which became increasingly related to First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions and culture as children in the classroom emulated the teacher candidate’s respect and interest. In taking responsibility for their own learning about First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions and culture, our teacher candidates expanded their personal understandings and were able to model this form of learning in their host classrooms. 310 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education

Facilitating Meaningful Learning Through Relationship-Building With First Nation Métis and Inuit Peoples and Organizations in the Region The greatest factor in the implementation of the Infusion in both the faculty and elementary school classrooms was the support of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit communities across Canada who walked with us on this journey. Without their wisdom, knowledge, and guidance our work would not have been possible. In particular, we took encouragement from the work of the Simcoe Muskoka Catholic District School Board (2009), who undertook a comprehensive survey of local First Nation and Métis community members regarding education. Consultation participants suggested that schools “draw on role-models and Elders to pass on their knowledge – help students recognize how much knowledge they carry and find ways for them to share so they can learn from each other” (p. 35). It was noted that “teachers need to feel comfortable to call on community members, Elders, etc. and given help with identifying community resources as needed” (p. 54). One participant offered, “Just ask us; we’re glad to help” (p. 55). Another concluded, “This is too important not to get it right” (p. 29). In local classrooms, our teacher candidates took these messages to heart and began inviting guests to their classrooms. Understanding that not knowing is an opportunity for learning as a guiding principle raised challenges in practice that required a focused response by both faculty and teacher candidates. Our three objectives of demonstrating respect, taking responsibility for learning and facilitating meaningful learning through relationship-building allowed faculty and students to comfortably embrace not knowing in the work of the Infusion.

Recognize Diversity of Histories and Teachings Every teacher candidate in the Barrie Site program had the opportunity to participate in a First Nation, Métis, or Inuit placement experience toward the end of the academic year. Teacher candidates accepted opportunities in Friendship Centres and community organizations, local public or Catholic schools with high populations of students who self-identified as First Nation, Métis, or Inuit, and in schools located within communities outside of our area. Teacher candidates travelled to placements in northern Ontario, and as far away as British Columbia and Nunavut. Returning from these placements, teacher candidates recognized the diversity of communities, settings (rural, urban, and remote), histories, traditions, teachings,


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie perspectives, and experiences. They also learned that the understandings they had of learning and schooling did not apply to all settings. One group of teacher candidates who travelled to Nunavut noted many differences from their experiences in their local schools. For example, the mode of transportation (two hours in a qamutik—a traditional Inuit sled pulled by a snowmobile) on a kindergarten field trip to go ice fishing. These differences were somewhat expected. Therefore, teacher candidates had inquired in advance and their Inuit hosts explained how they would travel. Hosts also offered a loan of appropriate clothing as protection from the cold as they travelled at high speed over the ice in the open sleds. The most unexpected and striking difference resulted from what teacher candidates had simply presumed. The teacher candidates had packed lunches to take with them as they would on a field trip in their local school. As lunch approached, they saw their hosts giving lunch to the children and proceeded to open their own brown bags and eat their sandwiches. It was quickly apparent that this had drawn the attention of parents and teachers. Not quite sure what to do, they slipped their sandwiches back into their bags and asked the woman who was serving lunch to the children what the concern might be. She indicated that the act of bringing a personal lunch had signalled uncertainty on the part of teacher candidates that their hosts would care for them on the trip. Their Inuit hosts were surprised and somewhat offended. The misunderstanding was soon cleared up and the teacher candidates enjoyed a wonderful Arctic char soup prepared from the day’s catch. Indeed, the community looked after each other. In fact that evening the local short-wave radiobroadcast announced the great catch of the day and invited anyone in the town to come and pick up some fresh fish. Similarly, the teacher candidates noticed that students in the Inuit school never came to school with a piece of fruit (which is an expensive commodity in the far North) without cutting it into as many pieces as there were children and teachers in the classroom to ensure everyone had a share. These teacher candidates noted that they were returning to their local schools with a new perspective on local school policy of students not sharing food from their lunches and how a child arriving from an Inuit school might perceive restrictions on sharing. All teacher candidates remarked on the perspectives they gained from their First Nation, Métis, or Inuit placement experiences. They realized that students who travelled distances by ferry in summer or scoot in winter were not disinterested; rather, they were unable to participate in after-school activities due to ferry/scoot 312 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education schedules. They gained a glimmer of understanding into why parents experiencing the intergenerational effects of residential schooling might choose to disengage from the school or choose not to have their child self-identify—and so attempted to provide more effective home/school communication. They stressed the importance of “being sensitive to student histories and experiences and ensuring that you do not sound like the expert on another person’s life” (May 2010 Questionnaire, Participant 5). Articulated as a guiding principle, recognizing the diversity of histories and teachings highlighted the importance of not generalizing the experiences and teachings of one Aboriginal community. In turn, it led teacher candidates to demonstrate their understanding that diversity exists within and between Aboriginal peoples and communities.

Create Space for Alternate Perspectives Teacher candidates made a conscious effort to create spaces for perspectives that are often overlooked, ignored, or hidden. In the Inuit community, they appreciated the frankness of a school principal who articulated the challenge to the community of having a never-ending parade of well-meaning “outsiders” visit the community to teach—yet none who were ever inclined to return and very few who even kept in touch. She aptly labelled this “outsider fatigue.” This was an eye-opening comment for eager teacher candidates who saw themselves as contributing to the school during their placement, but had not considered the perspective of the community. In their local schools, teacher candidates came to realize the importance of children seeing themselves mirrored in the classroom environment rather than separated from it by an invisible window (Style, 1996) that allowed them to see in, but not fully participate. Rather than create an environment for their students, our teacher candidates came to value the importance of allowing the students to create a classroom environment that reflected the ways of knowing and being in the world of every student in the room. Teacher candidates considered whether the existing environment mirrored the faces, realities, and experiences of their students, or had created barriers. They then worked to facilitate student-created spaces, bulletin boards, and reading baskets that were respectful and reflective of the children in that classroom.


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie One of our teacher candidates submitted a wooden chair as a representation of what he had come to understand about creating a culturally respectful learning environment for children. He explained his thinking as follows: When we walk into a classroom we could name countless items that may be considered essential learning tools. One of the most basic yet essential tools for learning would be the chairs that our students sit on. Without one, our students could not work comfortably. From all that I have seen this semester I have come to one major conclusion. First Nations, Métis and Inuit (FNMI) youth are trying to obtain an education while sitting on a three-legged chair. The odds of FNMI students being successful are not very promising. The lack of success is in large part because they are being forced to learn within a system that makes very little effort to include effective practices for Indigenous education. If educators wish to break this cycle we need to focus our attention on the connection between the spiritual (black), mental (white), physical (yellow) and emotional (red) realms that are key to FNMI culture. Success will also require changes to our pedagogy so that it includes FNMI culture, language and worldviews. The healing process is going to be slow but does not mean we should not try for that is what society has done for the last 400 years (Stevens, 2009).

Fig. 1: Wooden chair representing culturally respectful learning


Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education In their local schools, teacher candidates began to consider alternative perspectives in both environment and learning. For example, a group of teacher candidates noted a mural in a local school foyer that depicted a historical event from a clearly nonAboriginal perspective. They noted that the portrayal of the Aboriginal people in the mural was, to their eyes, disrespectful. They wondered how the First Nation children in that school felt, even subconsciously, about the painting. Did they see it as an insult or were they inured to the portrayal? The teacher candidates brought their concern to our faculty classroom and we engaged with a respected member of a First Nation community who guided us as we presented the concern to the school. The positive outcome of the teacher candidates’ understanding of perspective resulted in the mural being changed. Creating space for alternate perspectives framed as a guiding principle opened up understandings of multiple ways of knowing and being in the world, which led teacher candidates to look critically at their environments and to take responsibility for helping students in their host classrooms to do the same.

Teach in Context, Using Resources Responsibly In contrast to their prior personal education experience of focusing solely on Aboriginal history without context, teacher candidates sought ways to underscore the relevance of the history by making connections between current issues and past events. As learners who, in many cases, recognized having been schooled without this context, they understood how that lack had contributed to their lack of understanding of the relevance of the history to their present existence, and how it made it easy for them to turn away from the ugly truths of the history of colonial relationships in Canada. The greatest challenge for teaching in context relates to our prior discussion of knowledge and cultural authority. Teacher candidates articulated a desperate need for resources they could use in a responsible manner to ensure that the information embraced multiple perspectives. They valued using teaching materials and resources developed by or, at least, in consultation with Aboriginal peoples. Seeking out and assessing resources became a topic of much discussion in our classes as teacher candidates listened for the voices in the resources and looked critically at whose perspective was presented and how. They learned how to read through the lens of “other” and to encourage even their youngest students to do likewise.


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie As an example of this learning, our teacher candidates began to make use of a resource provided by the Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario (1999) to check a book for bias. Imagine the surprise when a guest in our classroom drew their attention to a perennial Grade 3 favourite, Little House on the Prairie (Wilder, 1935/1994), where they read the following dialogue of the character of Mr. Scott, “The only good Indian is a dead Indian” (p. 284). Their awareness of perspective had provided them with a new lens, which they then shared with their young students. Many also implemented an idea shared by one of our First Nation partners to glue a library pocket into the back of books, so students could insert small cards containing their commentary on evidence of racism or bias in that text. This simple practice empowered young readers who could look at the commentary to inform their reading choices and drive them to ask whose perspective was presented in a given text. Many teacher candidates emphasized that “Aboriginal students should not be used as the ‘go to’ expert” (May 2010 Questionnaire, Participant 33). They understood the unfairness of presuming a child to be an expert, and sought support from Elders or other knowledgeable partners. They also came to understand that while they might share understandings, there was a distinct difference between sharing histories from respected sources and teachings or storytelling that held sacred meaning, which required ceremony or ritual and cultural authority. It would be naïve to presume that these learnings came to us (teacher candidates and faculty) intuitively. Certainly there were those that came to us harshly and reminded us that there will be no point of arrival, simply an ongoing path of learning. One such example was a recommendation for a guest speaker in our faculty classroom. The speaker had published on a topic of interest and was recommended to us as an engaging speaker. Not long into the speaker’s presentation, it became apparent to us that the non-Aboriginal speaker’s jocular style of delivery demonstrated a lack of respect for important content and the storytelling was void of the cultural authority, which the speaker had previously intimated. After some squirming in our seats, the group began to challenge the speaker. The presentation ended not long after with much relief, no doubt, on both sides. We learned to examine our perspective, asking ourselves—prior to extending an invitation—how we might have looked beyond the prestige of publishing to the authenticity and cultural authority of our speaker. We were fortunate to arrange the occasional field trip to a local First Nation powwow, or to celebrate important events in our work at a local Friendship Centre or within a community. Our teacher candidates served as volunteers at local Aboriginal Education conferences, and remained conscious of the principle of reciprocity by inviting local 316 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education communities to share their cultures within the school community, and making the school community aware of local Aboriginal community events, such as celebrations, festivals, or historic sites. Our teacher candidates learned to keep a current list of resources, which they shared with each other. For example, subsequent to volunteering at the Aboriginal Education Conference, they worked with a number of workshop presenters to create lesson plans. The workshop presenters provided their content and cultural expertise, and the teacher candidates added their understanding of lesson planning. This joining of resources and talents facilitated the creation of lesson plans that were meaningful and respectful. As a guiding principle, teaching in context, using resources responsibly, allowed teacher candidates to gain a measure of confidence in implementing the Infusion. Knowing how to access and assess resources also provided teacher candidates with concrete ways to address their fear of not knowing.

Move From Inclusion to Infusion Moving to and sustaining infusion required focused thinking on the part of teacher candidates. While it seemed straightforward to include a unit on First Nation, Métis, or Inuit traditions for social sciences, or study the art of West Coast First Nations in a unit on Canadian artists, the infusion of understandings on a day-to-day basis presented a greater challenge. Understanding that Aboriginal content should not been seen as an “add-on” to the curriculum, several teacher candidates shared ways they moved beyond inclusion to infusion. One of our teacher candidates, who had been previously reluctant to self-identify, began to infuse traditional understandings into her teaching. She brought her drum to class and kept a rhythm as her primary students counted by twos, and incorporated beading into a math lesson on patterning. Another teacher candidate shared: For procedural writing [Language Arts], I had the students watch a First Nations clip on the computer about games and had them write the procedure. I tried to pull Aboriginal content into different pieces, to pull little bits and pieces where I could. I could have done a procedural piece about tying shoelaces, but I thought First Nations games would be more interesting. (June 2010 Focus Group 1, Participant 5)


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie Beyond the examples already discussed in this paper, the following are examples of what the Infusion “looked like” in local classrooms: • Relating the classroom rules to the Seven Grandfather Teachings • Developing understandings of traditions in the students’ daily environment (e.g., the 2010 Canadian Olympics symbol) • Studying Métis dot art during a math lesson on patterning • Counting to drum beats in primary classes while discussing the traditions of drumming in local and global cultures • Discussing First Nation, Métis, and Inuit concepts of conservation and environmentalism in relation to the school’s eco-program • Ensuring classroom libraries and reading baskets include Aboriginal authors and guided reading texts • Using Aboriginal texts for shared reading (e.g., a dramatic read aloud of the poetry of Tekahionwake [E. Pauline Johnson]) • Promoting and reflecting on the origin of restorative justice models • Modelling appropriate language and terminology (traditional regalia is not a costume) • Inviting Elders into the classroom, in person or through web connections • Comparing newspaper articles written about Aboriginal peoples and nonAboriginal peoples, asking how the author’s perspective and/or description of the subject varied (for example, victims of violent crime) • Increasing student awareness of environmental issues that impact traditional lands • Going on community walks to consider whose footsteps have gone before in this place • Ensuring that National Aboriginal Day is given recognition in the classroom and talk about how students can participate locally • Exposing students to multiple art forms, including traditional dance, singing, musical instruments, painting, and sculpture One of our former teacher candidates wrote to us about her experience of sustaining the work of the Infusion now that she is teaching full-time. She was reading the story Solomon’s Tree by Andrea Spalding (2002) to her class to celebrate Aboriginal Day in 318 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education her school. Several First Nation Elders and guests were in the school to support the teachers and students. She recounts: Half way through the end of the story, two men came into the room and stood at the back. At the end of the story, I introduced myself and they introduced themselves to the class as volunteers for the day. They were both First Nations and one is an artist and the other makes masks for a living. The man who makes masks came up to me after I got the kids settled into their mask projects. He said, ‘I was really nervous about coming today. I didn’t think that this was the type of thing for me. I thought I’d feel really out of place and that I wouldn’t enjoy myself. But you know what? I know I am meant to be here and that I am meant to be in your classroom today.’ I said, ‘Oh my goodness, that’s so nice of you to say. Well I’m glad you feel that way and I’m so glad you are here, but what changed your mind?’ He said, ‘Well, the reason I know that I am meant to be here today is because I’ve heard that story before. I know it is a true story.’ He then said, ‘My father passed away and I miss him very much. He carved masks for a living and taught me the art of carving. Every time I carve a mask I feel my father’s spirit in the tree I touch and mask I carve. He is with me and I know that he wanted me to be here today, because he is with me through that story you just read.’ (Anonymous, personal communication, October 20, 2012) This former teacher candidate’s experience in her own classroom reinforces the importance of the Infusion and the potential that it brings to developing strong relationships and respectful understandings of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories for ALL children. As a guiding principle, moving from inclusion to infusion provided our teacher candidates with concrete steps along a path on which each could move at a rate that suited his/her readiness. It is our hope that what we have learned from our experiences will support others who choose to undertake an infusion of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories in their own classrooms. Neither the process nor the outcome has been perfect; however, we are focused on deepening our learning by examining the challenges we have faced. We are inspired to continue our work by listening to the stories of our teacher candidates who are taking the Infusion beyond our faculty and into the world. The work of the Infusion has just begun.


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie

Acknowledgments We would like to thank our Aboriginal partners for generously sharing their knowledge and experience and providing ongoing guidance; the education team at the Barrie Site; and York University’s Faculty of Education for supporting the Infusion.

References Blimkie, M., Vetter, D., & Haig-Brown, C. (2014). Shifting perspectives and practices: Teacher candidates’ experiences of an Aboriginal infusion in mainstream teacher education. Brock Education, 23(2), 47–66. Blimkie, M., Vetter, D., & Stewart, C. (2011, May). Respecting ways of knowing: Culturallyresponsive assessment in a mainstream teacher education program. Paper presented at the Ministry of Education/Faculties of Education Forum, OISE/UT, Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Bruner, J. (1966). Toward a theory of instruction. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bruner, J. (2003). Making stories: Law, literature, life. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Dion, S. (2007). Disrupting molded images: Identities, responsibilities and relationships– Teachers and Indigenous subject material. Teaching Education, 18, 329–342. Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario. (1999). We’re erasing prejudice for good: Resource Guide. Toronto, ON: Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario. Freire, P. (1974). Education for critical consciousness. New York: Continuum Books. Haig-Brown, C. (2008). Not-a-course outline: First Nation, Métis, and Inuit infusion (university course syllabus). Barrie, ON: Faculty of Education, York University. King, T. (2003). The truth about stories: A native narrative. Toronto, ON: House of Anansi Press.

Kulchyski, P. (2005). Like the sound of a drum: Aboriginal cultural politics in Denendeh and Nunavut. Winnipeg, MB: University of Manitoba Press. McGregor, L. (2008/2010). Circle of life evaluation worksheet. Barrie, ON: Author. Meuse-Dallien, T. (2003). The sharing circle: Stories about First Nations culture. Halifax, NS: Nimbus. Saul, J.R. (2009). A fair country: Telling truths about Canada. Toronto, ON: Viking Press Simcoe Catholic District School Board. (2008). Aboriginal perspectives: The teacher’s toolkit. Retrieved from: http://www.smcdsb.on.ca/ UserFiles/Servers/Server_6/File/Board%20 Office%20Files/Employees/Aboriginal%20 Education/Elementary/Grade%201/Gr01_ Lang_Circle_Eng.pdf Simcoe Muskoka Catholic District School Board. (2009). Making good tracks: Community members speak. Barrie, ON: Author. Spalding, A. (2002). Solomon’s tree. Victoria, BC: Orca Book. Stevens, M. (2009, April). Unpublished education assignment for the Bachelor of Education Program, York University, Barrie, Ontario, Canada. Style, E. (1996). Curriculum as window and mirror. National S.E.E.D. project. Retrieved from: http://www.library.wisc.edu/edvrc/docs/ public/pdfs/SEEDReadings/Curriculum Window.pdf


Culturally Responsive Teaching: Stories of a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit Cross-Curricular Infusion in Teacher Education Vetter, D., & Blimkie, M. (2011). Learning to teach in a culturally meaningful and respectful way: The first steps in creating a First Nation, Métis, and Inuit education infusion in a mainstream teacher education program. Canadian Journal of Native Studies, 31(2), 173–185.

Wells, C. G., & Chang-Wells, G. L. (1992). Constructing knowledge together: Classrooms as centers of inquiry and literacy. Portsmouth, NH: Heineman. Wilder, L. (1935/1994). Little house on the prairie. New York: Harper Collins.

Diane Vetter

is the Practicum Coordinator for the York University Faculty of Education. She holds a PhD in Education from York with research interests in teacher education, and oral language and learning. She served as Barrie Site Lead in the Consecutive Teacher Education Program, with a focus on the Infusion of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories across the curriculum. Dr. Vetter has published on the topics of oral language, inclusive learning, and crosscurricular infusion.

Celia Haig-Brown

is the Associate Dean Research & Professional Development at York University Faculty of Education. She holds a PhD from the University of British Columbia. Her scholarly interests include (de)colonizing research and practice; critical ethnography; critical/feminist pedagogy; learning from the land; adult & community education; curriculum development; and ways of knowing. Dr. Haig-Brown has published on the topics of Indigenous thought, appropriation and Non-Aboriginal people, pedagogy of the land, and First Nations education.


Diane Vetter, Celia Haig-Brown, and Melissa Blimkie

Melissa Blimkie is completing her PhD at York University’s Faculty of Education. She holds a Master of Education degree from Queen’s University. Her research interests include Indigenous education, land-based pedagogies, oral history, and community sustainability. Ms. Blimkie has taught undergraduate and graduate courses on pedagogy of the land and issues in Indigenous education. She has published on the topics of pedagogy of the land and cross-curricular infusion of First Nation, Métis, and Inuit traditions, perspectives, and histories.


Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections Zuochen Zhang, University of Windsor

ABSTRACT Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) are increasingly used in education settings, and graduates from teacher education programs are expected to have adequate knowledge and skills to integrate ICT in their teaching. Inspired by some studies that report cases about pre-service teachers’ ICT-related learning in different countries in Asia, this article presents, in case-study format, the experimentations carried out regarding the teaching of ICT as part of the curriculum to pre-service teachers in a teacher education program in Ontario, Canada. The aim is to share with instructors and researchers in teacher education institutions and programs what we can learn from our experiences, and how we can use these experiences to improve our practice.

T

he important role Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) play in education has been increasingly recognized by educators of all levels. To help prepare future teachers who can make good use of ICT, teacher education institutions and programs are expected to not only “model the new pedagogies and tools for learning,” but also “develop strategies and plans to enhance the teaching-learning process” (UNESCO, 2002, p. 13), the goal being to provide preservice teachers opportunities for experimentation with ICT before they can use them in classroom teaching (Albirini, 2006). This article presents the experimentations carried out in a teacher education program in Ontario, Canada, regarding the teaching of ICT as part of the curriculum to pre-service teachers, with the aim to share with instructors and researchers in teacher


Zuochen Zhang education institutions and programs what we can learn from our experiences, and how in turn we can use these experiences to improve our practice. In UNESCO Bangkok’s (2013) publication, Case Studies on Integrating ICT Into Teacher Education Curriculum in Asia, the authors report cases such as a class or section of the pre-service teacher programs in Australia, China, South Korea, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam. In their reports, the authors share challenges they experienced and strategies they employed by using collaborative learning, technology-enhanced learning, blended learning, and student-centered learning in their teaching practice, which can be valuable resources for curriculum design and policy reform in this field. Inspired by this publication, the author of this article, who has encountered many similar problems in his teaching, shares how efforts were made to apply constructivist paradigms by engaging pre-service teachers in collaborative learning in both face-toface classroom settings and web-based spaces. This article adapts the framework of the above-mentioned case studies that include: institutional context/background; context of the development of the ICT-related curriculum; outcomes: benefits and challenges; and conclusion and further implications.

Institutional Context/Background Introduction to the Faculty of Education at University of Windsor University of Windsor is one of the 12 universities in Ontario that offer consecutive teacher education programs. This program is 36 weeks long over one year, with 12 of those weeks devoted to teaching practice, which is organized in three or four blocks. This teacher education program, at least in recent years, has had an immensely diverse student population. These pre-service teachers are enrolled in divisions of Primary/ Junior (P/J), Junior/Intermediate (J/I), and Intermediate/Senior (I/S), and range in age from their 20s to their 50s. All of them possess a bachelor’s degree and some have completed a Master’s or higher degree, prior to enrolling in the pre-service program. The percentage of the pre-service teachers who completed degrees from countries other than Canada has been steadily increasing, and their presence in the pre-service program provides a reminder for the need of inclusion in an increasingly global society. Among the pre-service teachers, there is a wide variety in terms of their knowledge regarding creative and innovative uses of ICT (Bennett, Maton, & Kervin, 2008). Those of a younger age appear to be more fluent in terms of ICT use (Martinovic & Zhang, 2012; Zhang & Martinovic, 2008).


Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections

Context of the Development of the ICT-Related Curriculum ICT-Related Course/Curriculum Pre-service teachers enrolled in this program are required to take one ICT literacy course, which comprises a balance of theory and practice, besides other foundational courses and those that are in their specific subject areas (“teachables”). Some of these courses also involve use of ICT. The title of the course was “Instructional Technology (Computer Methods)” before 2011. Starting in the fall semester of 2011, it was changed to “Learning With Technologies.” It is a general methods course offered to all the students in the Junior/Intermediate (J/I) and Intermediate/Senior (I/S) divisions. Since 2013 the course is offered as a required course to the Primary/Junior (P/J) division. The course offers an introduction to influential theories related to the implementation of ICT in education and practice. In addition to this mandatory course, instructors of all subject areas within the pre-service program are expected to integrate ICT into their courses while modeling different uses of technologies. Besides introducing widely used hardware devices and software program packages, pre-service teachers are also exposed to: the use of different kinds of accessible ICT, with the aim of helping them to understand how commonly accessible ICT, such as portable music players, inexpensive image or video recording devices, Open Source software packages, online synchronous and asynchronous communication tools (e.g., social networking software, mobile phone), can be used for teaching and learning purposes, and how these usages can help address equity issues in different schools. (Zhang, Tousignant, & Xu, 2012, p. 7)

Development Process The author of this article started teaching the ICT literacy course in the teacher education program in 2006, and a number of research projects on the course/curriculum have been carried out in order to develop an ICT-related course that provides preservice teachers with the best possible learning experience for their ICT knowledge and skills development. A blended model that has both face-to-face and online learning was employed for the course delivery. During the first few years, the course was offered to J/I division as a full-year course, and a one-semester course to I/S division, which means J/I students took the course for one hour each week for two semesters. In comparison, the I/S


Zuochen Zhang students took it for two hours each week for one semester. This course was not offered as a required course to P/J division until the 2011 academic year. Based on findings of research projects and student feedback from 2006 to 2010, which indicated that I/S students needed more time to digest what they learned in the ICT course, and that P/J students needed a course dedicated to ICT learning, the course was changed to a full-year course for I/S students in 2011. In the same year, the course was offered as a test run to P/J students as a two-semester course for one year. As a result of the curriculum reform in the program, starting in the fall semester of 2013, the course Learning with Technologies has been offered to P/J students as a required course.

Infrastructure for ICT Teaching and Learning All the classrooms, except for the computer classroom in the faculty, are equipped with a multimedia cart that has a data projector, a DVD/VHS combo, speakers, and a Mac mini computer with both Mac and Windows operating systems installed. A few classrooms have a document camera on the teacher’s desk. Most classrooms also have a SmartBoard installed. Three years ago, a Learning Resource Center was created with funding from student fees. The center is equipped with photocopiers, printers, a SmartBoard, a green wall for video shooting, a die cutting machine, and four computers. A small soundproof room inside the center is dedicated for audio and video editing. In this room there are two Mac computers with special software (e.g., Final Cut Pro, Adobe Premier Pro CC) installed, and high quality microphones and speakers. All pre-service teachers have entry to the center with access privilege programmed on their student card. The largest class in the teacher education program is usually 40 students. Because of the limited physical space in the computer classroom, there are only 35 Mac computers in this room, and one of them is on the teacher’s desk. These computers have three operating systems (Mac OS, Windows 8, and Linux) installed, so that preservice teachers can be exposed to different operating systems that are used in schools. The application software packages installed are mostly those licensed by OSAPAC (Ontario Software Acquisition Program Advisory Committee). In 2008, when the computer classroom was renovated, 25 computers were put in the classroom, and two keyboards were connected to each computer, with the hope that this configuration would give students more opportunities to collaborate. It turned out that the extra keyboard was seldom used, so they were removed after one semester.



BYOD (Bring Your Own Device) With the increasing affordability of laptop computers and other handheld devices, such as iPads and other tablets, more and more pre-service teachers are bringing their own device into the classroom. In fact, many of them prefer to use their own device unless they have to use the software only available on the classroom computers. At first they were allowed to use their own device, but later on, as wifi became more reliable and more pre-service teachers owned mobile devices, they were encouraged to bring their own and use them in the ICT class. Learning With Technologies is a course that is dedicated to ICT literacy development for pre-service teachers in the teacher education program, and each division has its specific focus. For example, I/S students are required to have two teachables (subject areas), J/I students have one teachable, and P/J students are “generalists” who do not have specific teachables, so the course is adjusted to meet the needs of each division. Each academic year the course content is revised with updated reading materials and course assignments. The course outline for I/S division for the academic year of 20132014 is included in this article as a sample.

Course Topics and Instructional Strategies This is a course on ICT literacy, rather than a computer skills course, as many students would assume before entering the course. The course is designed to use a learnercentered approach so the instructor only gives a few lectures. Most class activities are done by pre-service teachers with the instructor as a guide. During the course preservice teachers are required to choose one of the required readings, and in a group of five to eight people (depending on number of students in a class), they will do an in-class presentation which has three components including a: brief summary, critique on the reading, and class discussion on the reading. For the critique, students are expected to not only make insightful comments on the reading itself, but also those related to their own experiences and observations regarding what is discussed in the reading. In the class discussion, students are expected to raise thought-provoking questions, and by using their facilitating strategies, get all class members involved in the learning process. Tech Workshops are designed for pre-service teachers to sign up for a workshop on their interested topic, and run a 15-20 minute workshop individually or in a group of up to three people. Requirements for a tech workshop include accessibility, availability, practicability, and hands-on practice. Students are encouraged to run a workshop on something they learn by themselves after entering the course, so as to not only learn ICT, but also practice how to teach their knowledge and skills to others. There were a


Zuochen Zhang wide variety of topics pre-service teachers did their Tech Workshop on in the past few years. There was a group of three who had very limited knowledge in ICT and they were struggling to find a topic for their workshop. With suggestions from the instructor, they taught themselves how to use Windows Movie Maker, and then ran a workshop for the rest of the class demonstrating how to use the software. In addition to software programs, hardware use is also a topic for workshops. It was brought to the author’s attention a few years ago that many pre-service teachers who owned a Mac laptop computer did not know that they needed a special adaptor to connect their computer to a data projector. So, a workshop is usually arranged for them to learn how to properly connect a laptop computer to a data projector, and what type of adaptor they should buy for their computer. Some Windows laptops have an HDMI port but no VGA port, like most computers do, so the owners of such computers should know what to prepare if they want to use their own device during their practicum. Pre-service teachers find a lot of video clips on YouTube that they would like to integrate in their classroom teaching, but many schools have certain websites blocked, including YouTube. As such, there are workshops to teach them how to use programs such as KeepVid or MacX YouTube Downloader to save the video clips on their own computer (they are cautioned not to infringe on copyrights) to play them offline. Online learning activities are designed for students to make use of the online learning environment on the learning management system (LMS); and also for the instructor and students to communicate about the course. There are five required online discussions throughout the course. The first required online discussion asks students to make a posting about their experiences and perceived competency of ICT, and then express what they expect to learn in this course. This serves as a way for a needs assessment so the instructor can adjust the delivery pace and course content based on students’ background and expectations. Postings in the first required online discussion show a big variety of pre-service teachers’ ICT competency. For instance, there was one posting showing limited ICT competence: In my past, I have used the ICTs Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel and Microsoft PowerPoint, which I have primarily used for my education. In this class I am looking forward to learning how to use a SmartBoard since its popularity in classrooms is rapidly increasing, and also iMovie because I believe using this in my classroom would help motivate my students to learn. While another from a more experienced ICT user stating that:


Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections I believe I have a fair amount of knowledge about ICT and have used a few forms. I am comfortable working on a Mac or a PC in any of these programs. I am fluent with Microsoft Office (PowerPoint, Word, Excel), Adobe Photoshop, iMovie, iPhoto, Garage Band, to name a few. I am really looking forward to learning how to use a SmartBoard and integrating technology such as iPads into my classroom. Topics such as SmartBoard are what pre-service teachers expect to learn, regardless of their previous ICT competence, so after introducing them in class, a Graduate Assistant is assigned to run workshops on those topics in the Learning Resource Center for those who need extra sessions. During each practicum, pre-service teachers are asked to observe what types of ICT are available and how they are used in their placement school. At the end of the practicum, all students will make a posting about their observation and their reflections of the availability and use of ICT in their placement school. From the postings, it is found that many schools have different types of ICT that are used to various degrees depending on the subject and associate teacher (in-service teacher who mentors the pre-service teacher during the practicum). The following posting provides information on what is done in schools that may be worth considering in the teacher education program: My Associate and many others also use two forms of communication with students and parents that are quite different. The first is a Weebly website that is created by each teacher. They then create a page on that site for each of their classes and any extra-curriculars or events they are part of. Each class page contains grades (coded by student number), lesson notes, handouts and any extra materials of interest. The second system is a text-messaging service called Remind 101. Teachers set up an account for each class or period and are able to send out messages to their students and their parents, whomever signs up for the service. The important thing to note is that there is no exchange of information, as everyone’s numbers are private and alias names are allowed (especially for the parents of students). This service is used to remind students to study for tests, finish their homework, and about upcoming events. Towards the end of the course, pre-service teachers are asked to share in the online forum what they believe they have learned in this course, and recommend improvements for future students. The following postings represent suggestions from many pre-service teachers, indicating they do not really recognize the importance of readings, and they would like to have more clarity about the requirements for assignments:


Zuochen Zhang I would improve tech class by adding more workshops and having less discussion on readings. I didn’t find the readings to be of any use in my placements. I really enjoyed the tech workshops and they are things I can use in my classroom. The more I know, the better equipped I am to use technology in my classroom. My suggestions for this course would be to have more elaborate[d] explanations of the assignments as well as exemplars and rubrics to accompany them. This would eliminate any doubt for me as a student about what is expected of me. For the final assignment, students are asked to work in groups of two to five to create a project in a digital format, such as a movie, website, interactive presentation, computer program, or a combination of two or more of the aforementioned to be used as a resource website, tutorial, or presentation for a mini research project. Software programs such as Adobe Dreamweaver and iMovie are taught in class, and presentation programs such as Microsoft PowerPoint, Keynote, and Prezi are commonly chosen topics for Tech Workshops, so pre-service teachers can choose one or more programs as a tool for their final project. A group of pre-service teachers with biology as their teachable made a PowerPoint presentation introducing parts of a human body, where a mouse click on a part (e.g., heart) would bring up an animation, video clip, or an explanation of its function. A game in the format of Jeopardy followed the introduction as a quiz to enhance what was learned on the previous slide. Another group carried out a small research project on children’s understanding of Internet safety. With permission of the parents, the group videotaped two children aged six and 10 while asking them questions on what they knew about Internet use. They then edited the footage using iMovie to make a short movie that shows how much these children really knew. Many groups made multimedia resource websites for French learning, history of a certain country, and introduction to a number of musical instruments. Pre-service teachers of different teachables group together to take advantage of each member’s expertise, and collaboratively some take care of the content while others are responsible for the technical aspects of the project. Class assignments involve both individual and group work. For group work, students are discouraged to have the same group members for different assignments so that they have opportunities to collaborate with different people, and the development of their collaborative skills can be optimized. As it is widely agreed upon that an ICT literacy course should not only address knowledge and skills of the implementation of technologies, but also topics closely related to social and economic issues (for example, the digital divide), it is necessary 330 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections for such a course to raise awareness of these issues among pre-service teachers and expose them to possible solutions to such problems (Zhang, Tousignant, & Xu, 2012, p. 3). Widely accessible equipment and programs such as SmoothBoard, Open Source, and free software are introduced in class, and students are encouraged to explore them. The following table presents what have been most frequently used in this course during the past few years. Table 1 Hardware, Software, and Websites Used in the ICT Literacy Course HARDWARE

SOFTWARE

WEBSITES

Camera

Audacity

Bitstrips

Desktop computers

Bitstrips

Blogging platforms

(Mac and PC)

Dreamweaver

Facebook

iPad

GarageBand

Gizmos

iPod

Geometers sketch pad

Google

Laptop

iMovie

Google Docs

Lego robotics

iPhoto

Google Panorama

Microphone

iWeb

Polleverywhere.com

Monitors

Keynote

Prezi

Printer

Maple

SeaMonkey

Scanner

Microsoft Excel

Skype

SMART Board

Microsoft PowerPoint

SMART Exchange

Speakers

Microsoft Word

Twitter

USB memory sticks

One Note

Webmail

Video camera

Pages

Webquests

Photoshop

Weebly

Prezi

Wikipedia

SeaMonkey

YouTube

Sketchbook Pro Sketchup Skype SMART Notebook Windows Movie Maker


Zuochen Zhang Among the items listed in Table 1, some were more frequently used than others. For example, SMART Board was used for most interactive class activities, including in-class presentations and workshops. PowerPoint and/or Prezi, often with YouTube videos embedded, were used by pre-service teachers almost as the default program in their presentations. Pre-service teachers who were familiar with Mac computers would choose iMovie to make video clips, while those who felt more comfortable using Windows operating systems, or who preferred to use more accessible software, would use Windows Movie Maker for this purpose. Dreamweaver was part of the OSAPAC licensed package, which is installed on all the computers in the computer classroom and Learning Resource Center, and available for all the schools in Ontario. In addition, SeaMonkey, an alternative program for webpage development, was also introduced in the ICT course and many pre-service teachers used it for their projects because of its easy access. Skype was used a number of times during the past few years when a guest speaker from a different location was invited. On a few occasions, it was also used to connect to pre-service teachers who could not come to class due to health reasons.

Course Assessment Class participation includes attendance and active participation in all class activities. Pre-service teachers are required to attend all the face-to-face meetings and are encouraged to actively participate in discussions. Due to time limitation, some discussions are extended in the online forum, so participation is also expected there. Tech workshops are assessed according to the requirements explained in class and also posted on the course website. Additional factors used for the assessment include appropriateness of the pace and interactions between students who run the workshop and the audience. Time management and coordination among team members (if it is done by a team) are also considered. Time allotment for the discussion on the reading activity is 15 minutes (summary: three minutes; critique: six minutes; class discussion: six minutes). Higher order learning is emphasized for the pre-service teachers, so more attention is paid to insightful critique and thought-provoking class discussion than the descriptive summary of the reading material. Presentation skills, coordination among group members, and time management are also used as factors for the assessment. Required online discussions are assignments for individuals and they are designed as tools for carrying out needs assessment, sharing observations and reflections for each practicum, and conducting online action research to improve the course (Zhang, 2010). 332 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections The final project is designed for pre-service teachers to complete in groups of two to five. They are asked to form their own groups and submit the final project on a computer server that is dedicated for the course. As the server is connected to the Internet, it is made clear for the pre-service teachers to keep in mind issues related to intellectual property, especially when they use resources from the Internet. When the final project is submitted, all group members are required to email the instructor their self- and peer evaluation, indicating what mark they believe each group member deserves for the project.

Outcomes: Benefits and Challenges Benefits Based on pre-service teachers’ reflections and research projects conducted by the author and his colleagues in the past few years, the ICT literacy course provides students with theoretical and practical knowledge related to the use of ICT for teaching and learning. Through the course, pre-service teachers understand the importance of technological pedagogical content knowledge (TPACK) (Mishra & Koehler, 2006) for teachers in ICT-rich learning environments. The course is designed to develop preservice teachers’ ICT literacy; that is, besides learning pedagogical values of ICT and how to employ them for teaching and learning, they also have their critical thinking skills, lifelong learning skills, and collaborative learning/working skills developed. The following posting represents the opinion of those who had limited ICT knowledge and skills and found this course beneficial: Before this class I had very limited ICT literacy. I did not like using technology simply because I feared it not working or something going wrong. This course has taught me a lot about ICT and I believe the tech workshops were most valuable. Every one of the Tech workshops can be used in my future career as a teacher. This course was not what I expected, but in the end it did teach me a lot and I am glad I took the course. This course has definitely changed my perceptions and attitudes towards the integration of ICT into my classroom. I now believe technology is a great tool to use. Students enjoy the use of technology in the classroom and technology helps students learn the material better. It also is more engaging for students and catches their attention right from the start. Personally, I used videos when teaching my history class and it helped my students understand the material and stay on task.


Zuochen Zhang There are also indications that during their teaching practica, while learning from their associate teachers, some pre-service teachers helped their associate teachers to learn ICT, or positively influence their attitudes towards ICT integrated teaching. For instance, one pre-service teacher shares their experience that, Like many veteran teachers, my associate does not use much ICT in her teaching even if they are available. After seeing me using different types of ICT, she told me she found them helpful and would try using them in her classroom teaching.

Challenges and Solutions Like what was reported in Lim (2013), challenges for this ICT literacy course come from the fact that pre-service teachers have a diversity of ICT competencies before entering the teacher education program. Moreover, even if they have previous knowledge and skills in terms of ICT for daily life use, they most likely lack pedagogical knowledge and strategies to use ICT for teaching and learning. Those with more ICT competence would prefer to have less class time spent on basic knowledge and skills of commonly used ICT, while those who have limited background in ICT would be overwhelmed if too many new terms are introduced in one class—and it is no easy task to keep a balance in terms of pace and content. Having group assignments is one of the ways to help pre-service teachers with different ICT competencies to work together and learn from each other. The author of this article and his colleagues conducted research from different aspects of the course and made recommendations to offer the ICT literacy course with different levels of difficulty. So far this kind of accommodation has not been possible due to the complexity of scheduling. Students are encouraged to take advantage of relevant workshops offered by the university library and Center for Teaching and Learning, a unit that is responsible for faculty and staff professional development, and that offers some online tutorials for those who need extra resources. Having a tech coach at the Learning Resource Center is found to be quite helpful, especially for those with low competence in ICT. Providing enough information about the course requirements and assignments is more often than not a challenge. Besides what is stated in the course syllabus, verbal explanation is given during class meetings, and additional explanations are posted on the course website in the format of Q & A, but from time to time questions still arise about requirements for assignments. A quiz on this information may be necessary to help pre-service teachers get a good knowledge in this regard at an early stage. 334 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014

Teaching ICT to Pre-Service Teachers: Experiences and Reflections In order to best meet the learning needs of all pre-service teachers in the program, the ICT literacy course “has been undergoing continuous development and improvement” (Nguyen, 2013, p. 94) so that the course is made “current, relevant and pedagogically sound” (Wong & Divaharan, 2013, p. 70). Since 2006, in order to prepare pre-service teachers with adequate ICT literacy, a number of research projects have been conducted (e.g., Martinovic & Zhang, 2012; Zhang, 2010; Zhang & Martinovic, 2008; Zhang & Martinovic, 2014; Zhang & Nielsen, 2014; Zhang, Tousignant & Xu, 2012) so as to provide a valuable learning experience not only through the ICT literacy course, but also through other courses in the program. Instructors of all the courses in the program are expected to model the use of ICT in their teaching. However, one of the challenges in this regard is that instructors in the program have various perspectives of and attitudes towards the role of ICT for teaching and learning (Zhang & Nielsen, 2014). As such time and effort are needed before an integrated model of ICT teaching and modeling is implemented in the teacher education program.

Conclusion and Further Implications The course Learning With Technologies is a general methods course designed for pre-service teachers to gain basic knowledge and skills on how to use ICT for teaching and learning. As an ICT literacy course, it is not only for pre-service teachers to learn how to use computer hardware and software, but also “to gain a sense of technology integration and of pedagogical thinking with ICT” (Kim, 2013, p. 39). It takes more than a course in a teacher education program for pre-service teachers to get well prepared as future teachers who can effectively integrate ICT into their course design and classroom teaching. A learning environment needs to be created program-wide so that pre-service teachers can be exposed to various kinds of ICT so by the end of the program, they will have a good mastery of technological and pedagogical knowledge and skills of ICT integration in both subject-specific areas and the curriculum level. It is also important to have more collaboration among different units of the institution to make it possible for pre-service teachers to have opportunities to learn and enhance their ICT knowledge and skills campus-wide. Ongoing communication with school boards and in-service teachers should be carried out, so that what preservice teachers learn from the teacher education program is properly aligned with the real teaching practice in schools.


Zuochen Zhang The importance of research, especially action research, on the courses and curriculum cannot be overstated. The field of ICT is rapidly changing and student characteristics keep changing as well. Therefore, curriculum designers and instructors of teacher education programs need to continuously conduct research so they can keep themselves well informed for further improvements of their future practice.

References Albirini, A. (2006). Teachers’ attitudes toward information and communication technologies: The case of Syrian EFL teachers. Computers & Education, 47, 373–398. Bennett, S., Maton, K., & Kervin, L. (2008). The “digital natives” debate: A critical review of the evidence. British Journal of Educational Technology, 39(5), 775–786. Kim, H. (2013). A project-based course for learning to teach with ICT: A case of pre-service teacher education (Republic of Korea). In UNESCO Bangkok (Ed.), Case studies on integrating ICT into teacher education curriculum in Asia (pp. 29–39). Bangkok: UNESCO, Asia and Pacific Regional Bureau for Education. Lim, C.P. (2013). Building pre-service teachers’ ICT in education competencies at Edith Cowan University (Australia). In UNESCO Bangkok (Ed.), Case studies on integrating ICT into teacher education curriculum in Asia (pp. 1–20). Bangkok: UNESCO, Asia and Pacific Regional Bureau for Education. Martinovic, D., & Zhang, Z. (2012). Situating ICT in the teacher education program: Overcoming challenges, fulfilling expectations. Teaching and Teacher Education, 28(3), 461–469. Mishra, P., & Koehler, M. (2006). Technological pedagogical content knowledge: A framework for teacher knowledge. Teachers College Record, 108(6), 1017–1054. Nguyen, V.H. (2013). Learning to teach with ICT: A project-based course for pre-service teachers of biology at Hanoi National University of Education (Viet Nam). In UNESCO Bangkok (Ed.), Case studies on integrating ICT into teacher education curriculum in Asia (pp.

81–94). Bangkok: UNESCO, Asia and Pacific Regional Bureau for Education. UNESCO. (2002). Information and communication technologies in teacher education: A planning guide. Paris: UNESCO, Division of Higher Education. UNESCO Bangkok. (2013). Case studies on integrating ICT into teacher education curriculum in Asia. Bangkok: UNESCO, Asia and Pacific Regional Bureau for Education. Wong, P., & Divaharan, S. (2013). ICT for meaningful learning (Singapore). In UNESCO Bangkok (Ed.), Case studies on integrating ICT into teacher education curriculum in Asia (pp. 55–70). Bangkok: UNESCO, Asia and Pacific Regional Bureau for Education. Zhang, Z. (2010). Using online action research to improve a teacher education course. Ontario Action Researcher, 11(1). Retrieved from: http://oar.nipissingu.ca/PDFS/V1112.pdf Zhang, Z., & Martinovic, D. (2008). ICT in teacher education: Examining needs, expectations and attitudes. Canadian Journal of Learning and Technology, 34(2), 149–166. Zhang, Z., & Martinovic, D. (2014). Teacher candidates’ implementation of information and communication technologies: Perceptions of school teachers. Manuscript in preparation. Zhang, Z., & Nielsen, W. (2014). ICT use in teacher education programs: Perspectives of instructors. Manuscript in preparation. Zhang, Z., Tousignant, W., & Xu, S. (2012). Introducing accessible ICT to teacher candidates: A way to address equity issues. Journal of Literacy and Technology, 13(1), 2–18.



Zuochen Zhang

is Associate Professor in the Faculty of Education at the University of Windsor, Canada. He has taught Learning With Technologies courses for the Teacher Education program; Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) for Teaching and Learning; and Educational Research to students in the Master of Education program. Dr. Zhang’s research interests include ICT integration into school curriculum, e-learning, teacher education, Teaching English as a Second Language (TESL)/Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL), and international education.

LINK TO: http://www1.uwindsor.ca/education/10/dr-zuochen-zhang


name of author

© LEARN 2014 www.learninglandscapes.ca 338 | LEARNing Landscapes | Vol. 8, No. 1, Autumn 2014