Experiences That Lead to Growth for Educators and Learners

Editorial:

Experiences That Lead to Growth for Educators and Learners

Julian Kitchen Editor

Brock University

When teachers are responsive to students and “the situations in which interaction takes place”

(Dewey, 1938, p. 45), they foster “experiences that lead to growth” (Dewey, 1938, p. 40).

Dewey’s words convey the essence of education as a discipline. The commonplace of

education—teacher, learner, curriculum and milieu (Schwab, 1970)—exist in all schools, but the

experience is educative only to the degree that these commonplaces interact to spark learning.

The authors of the articles in this issue of Brock Education all puzzle over the

experiences of teachers and/or learners. In each case, their aim is to improve practice and,

through this, contribute to a better world.

Some focus on teachers (often themselves), while others centre their work on the learner.

Sometimes there is consderable overlap between the two. The venues range from elementary

classrooms to professional development to graduate school. Some are intimate studies—e.g.,

ethnographic, narrative inquiry, and self-study—while others stand back from the experience—

e.g., questionnaires and interviews. All ask probing questions about the teaching and learning

experience. All are worthy of your attention.

Tara-Lynn Scheffel, in “Individual Paths to Literacy Engagement: Three Portraits,” is

interested in elementary school learners. In her ethnographic case study, she explores the literacy

engagement of three very different second grade students. From these cases, she identifies four

filters through which we can perceive individual literacy engagement. When educators better

understand a range of student paths to literacy, they are more apt to engage each student.

While Jane P. Preston is very interested in the experiences of learners, her study begins

with her belief that spirituality should have an important place in schooling. In “Fostering the

Learner Spirituality of Students: A Teaching Narrative,” she explores how this was lived out in a

middle school classroom. She shares with Scheffel a deep respect for students and the

importance of inquiring into how they experience education.

Hilary Brown, like Preston, writes a very personal and personally revealing account of a

teacher passionately committed to transforming the learning of her students. “In Order to Be You

Have to Be: Modeling a Constructivist Approach for Teacher Candidates” makes explicit the

challenges Brown faced while seeking to actively engage teacher candidates in constructivist

learning. Through self-study, she honestly discusses struggle to maintain her approach despite a

high level of resistance from her class. This is a powerful story of practicing what we preach!

In “Building Community in Triads Involved in Science Teacher Education: An

Innovative Professional Development Model,” Todd Campbell studies his practice as a teacher

Brock Education, Vol. 21, No. 2 Spring 2012, 2

educator. He examines the use of triad models in a course offered to pre-service and in-service

teachers. Whereas Brown’s teaching was front-and-centre in her study, Campbell stands back

from the learning strategy he studies. Even though this paper is less personal in tone, Campbell’s

commitment to student learning shines through.

Ilana Margolin, in “A Coterminous Collaborative Learning Model: Interconnectivity of

Leadership and Learning,” shares Campbell’s interest in collaborative learning across different

groups of educators. Her study offers a range of perspectives, from novice teachers to

superintendents, to a collaborative learning model. Like Scheffel, Margolin engages in an

ethnographic study centred on the experiences of learners. Like Campbell, she stands back

further from the research participants. Her study focuses on themes about learning in

professional communities that emerged from asking people about their experiences in this

learning activity.

The final article, “Rocky Road or Clear Sailing? Recent Graduates’ Recollections and

Reflections of the Doctoral Journey,” has the largest group of participants (53) and the least

personal form of inquiry (a questionnaire). Nonetheless, Jonathan G. Bayley, Jason Brent Ellis,

Carla Reis Abreu-Ellis and E. Kathleen O’Reilly are centrally focussed on understanding

learning. They use the survey to gain a thorough understanding of how graduate students

experienced the doctoral journey. The answers, which are often quite personal, also convey

patterns of experience across individuals and institutions. While there is great power in small-

scale studies and personal stories, this article reminds us that large-scale studies can also say

much about experience and offer insights into how institutions can contribute to making those

experiences more educative.

It is my hope that reading these articles will contribute to your understanding of the

teaching and learning experience. By better understanding experience, we become more effective

as educators facilitating or constructing experiences for our students.

References

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

Schwab, J.J. (1970). The practical: A language for curriculum. School Review, 78, 1-23.

3

Individual Paths to Literacy Engagement:

Three Portraits

Tara-Lynn Scheffel Nipissing University

Abstract

This article examines conceptualizations of engagement during literacy learning within an

ethnographic case study of a grade two classroom. Specifically, three student portraits are

shared, revealing three unique journeys towards engagement. For Spike, it was a path of success

where he often determined the direction. For Jasper, the path was bumpy and filled with

compliance rather than involvement. For Avery, the path was elusive and filled with struggle,

though not for lack of desire. A framework for literacy engagement is presented that considers

four filters through which we perceive and thereby recognize a space for individual paths.

Key Words: engagement, literacy, primary education, case study

Tara-Lynn Scheffel, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor in Education (Language & Literacy) at Nipissing University.

Her research interests are primarily literacy-related with a focus on student engagement during literacy

events. Through her research, she aims to give stronger voice to students and teachers in educational research.

Email: [email protected]

Brock Journal, Volume 21(2), Spring 2012, pp. 3-21

Tara-Lynn Scheffel Literacy Engagement: Three Portraits

Brock Education, Volume 21(2), pp. 3-21 4

Introduction

In the light that beckons beyond an open door, three young children can be seen in the

shadowed reflections. One child stands in the centre, body slightly turned towards the

door but eyes facing forward. Another has walked through the door, only one hand

remaining in connection with the doorframe. The third child is also turned sideways but

is looking away from the door rather than towards it. (Personal reflection, 2005)

Questions of engagement began in my doctoral work as I found myself continually returning to

the complexity of literacy and the ways in which educators work within this complexity to build

literacy opportunities. It was in this search for understanding that I discovered the image

described above, an image that continually gives me purpose. The description is of a painting by

Brenda Joysmith titled Discovering Choices, the cover of a book called Engaging Children:

Community and Chaos in the Lives of Young Literacy Learners (Allen, Michalove & Shockley,

1993). It beckoned me into the lives of these children: I wanted to know their names, their

stories, their lived experiences. Engagement became more than a “popular catch phrase” (Butler-

Kisber and Portelli, 2003) as I considered the ways in which these children were engaged in

learning. The open doorway became a path to learning that was clearly defined for some while

unreachable for others. I wanted to learn what drew some through the door but turned others

away. I wondered how to make the door become permeable.

It was in this yearning that my own journey of discovery began, a journey I discuss in this

article. I begin by outlining the key works that influenced this study as I sought to learn more

about notions of engagement in order to identify theories, concepts, struggles and possibilities

for further exploration. Next, I outline the research methods used as I joined a grade two

classroom to learn about engagement. From these methods, I invite you to learn more about three

students and their individual paths towards engagement. For, I discovered that there are students

likened to the above image. Their names are Jasper, Spike and Avery. Their stories not only

demonstrate the complexity of engagement but also highlight the role that perception plays in our

understandings of engagement. In conclusion, I propose a framework for literacy engagement

that builds from and works alongside the portraits, the goal to create a space for ongoing

discussion about literacy engagement.

Literature on Engagement

Before introducing the portraits, this section first takes a broader look at school engagement to

set the stage for a closer look at understandings of engagement that are more specific to reading

and then, literacy.

School Engagement

Engagement, generally characterized as the involvement of students with learning, has been a

major focus of educational research surveys such as The Programme for International Student

Assessment (PISA) and the National Survey of Student Engagement (NSSE). Along with these

two larger surveys, a key theme arising within the literature is the role of active and meaningful

participation, along with sense of belonging or school membership (Goslin, 2003; Swan, 2003;

Rudduck & Demetriou’s, 2003; Newmann, Whelage & Lamborn, 1992; Mighty, 2007; Willms &



Flanagan, 2005). Portelli and Vibert (2002) used the term “curriculum of life” to describe a

school-based research project that took place as part of a pan-Canadian national study on student

engagement. More than a simple student-centered notion of constructivism, “a curriculum of life

centres on the possibilities for the co-construction and co-production of knowledge, rather than

on knowledge as simply teacher transmitted or simply student created” (p. 39). As a result, the

“hidden” curriculum is not so hidden, and controversial issues that affect the lives of students are

taken seriously.

McMahon (2003) presented three conceptions of engagement: (a) teacher as the presenter

of material, using interesting and various strategies; (b) teacher as facilitator of material, drawing

upon students’ interests; and (c) teacher working with students to establish connections beyond

the curriculum that relate to student’s lived experiences.

McMahon (2003) described this last conception as fitting with Portelli and Vibert’s

(2002) “curriculum of life.” She further explained, “Engagement in this sense is not simply

something that one group (educators) imposes on another (students)” (p. 26).

It may be this cyclical nature that led Cothran and Ennis (2000) to warn that “even a

quality curriculum guided by a knowledgeable teacher will not result in student learning unless

students first are engaged in the learning process” (p. 124). Cothran and Ennis demonstrated that

through communication, care, active learning and respect, teachers can bridge the distance

between student factors and school factors, helping students towards engagement.

McMahon and Portelli (2004) considered the work of Cothran and Ennis (2000) to be an

important contribution to the field but critiqued its linear nature and focus on engagement as

something that teachers “do to students” rather than something that is generated together (p. 66).

They applauded the effort to capture students’ voices but suggested that a closer look at the

purposes of engagement and the worthwhileness of the curriculum is needed. Next, I take a

closer look at definitions of reading and literacy engagement.

Reading Engagement

Within the 2000 PISA survey, reading engagement is defined as “students’ motivation and

interest in reading, and the time students spend reading for pleasure and reading diverse

materials” (Willms, 2003, p.8). However, despite a more specific acknowledgement of

engagement in relation to reading, the definition remains broad, mostly related to motivation and

time-spent on task. Guthrie and Anderson (1999), however, offered a definition of engaged

reading that included “…the joint functioning of motivation, conceptual knowledge, strategies,

and social interactions during literacy activities” (p. 2). Doing so, they considered the role of

instructional contexts in understanding what takes place in engagement. A similar understanding

of reading engagement is presented in the 2009 PISA survey but with recognition that other

studies, such as Guthrie & Wigfield (2000) had accounted for greater variance between reading

engagement and achievement than the 2000 results found (OECD, 2010, p. 22).

Yet, while Guthrie (2004) acknowledged the idea that engagement is both a result of as

well as a contributor to achievement, the concern that arose for me was that the complexity

suggested by his model was in danger of being lost within a list of factors that were viewed as

easily measurable. For example, Baker, Dreher and Guthrie (2000) outlined design principles for

promoting engaged reading that were described as “simply stated prescription(s) for what

children need to become engaged and achieving readers” (p. 316). The use of such simple

statements suggested that if only these principles are in place, then engagement is certain to



occur. A focus on the broader context is diminished, as well as what happens if/when these

principles do not work for a student. Guthrie (2001) himself, acknowledged the need for further

investigations of these complex instructional practices.

Literacy Engagement

Crediting Smith (1983) with discovering the missing factor of engagement in the learning

equation, Cambourne (1988) identified three main principles for engagement. The first involved

learners seeing themselves as potential ‘doers’ of the activities being demonstrated. Second, the

skills or knowledge being demonstrated furthered the purposes of the learners’ lives. The third

principle considered the risk involved in attempting a demonstration and how opportunities for

engagement were limited if viewed as unendurable or threatening. An additional fourth principle

was that of a significant teacher-student bond.

These principles highlighted specific areas that Cambourne (1988) identified as

unacknowledged by behavioural psychologists, who often failed to understand the concept of

engagement by confusing it with motivation. As a result, Cambourne elaborated a sociocultural

view of learning that emphasized setting the conditions that would increase learner’s decisions

towards engagement (immersion, demonstration, use, response, expectation, responsibility and

approximation). His principles differed from those of Baker et al. (2000) in that they were more

than design principles to promote engaged reading. Instead, they offered foundational classroom

practices that were conducive to encouraging engagement in literacy learning. The goal of

achievement remained, but was results-based rather than focused on measurement.

Research Design

This research study draws upon the work of Cambourne (1988) and Guthrie (2004), taking a

sociocultural, ethnographic approach to the study of engagement that moves beyond conceptual

concerns to consider the absence of individual students’ experiences in the literature, in

particular those of younger students (Scheffel, 2009). The voices I share here are those of grade

two students, along with their teacher and parents. I asked, from the subjective viewpoints of

teacher(s) and student(s), what constitutes engagement for primary-aged students in literacy

learning?

Participants

A school of over 600 students with 30+ teachers in Southwestern Ontario set the overall context

for my observations. Although the school itself had an ethnically diverse population, the class

that I studied had only one student of a visible minority. Initial interest was expressed by the

school to the university, following which I made contact with the principal who passed my Letter

of Information to the primary staff for consideration. Elsewhere, I elaborate this process more

fully as I reflect upon the negotiation process between researcher, teacher and students (Scheffel,

2011).



Research Methods and Data Sources

Four complementary research methods were used in this study: (a) participant observation, (b)

informal conversational interviews and picture-talks, (c) formal teacher

interviews/questionnaires, and (d) journaling, both by students and parents. In total, 53

observations days occurred over a period of 3 ½ months. Data sources included: field notes,

transcribed interviews of all audio taped discussions and interviews, artifacts of student work,

photographs of students working, student journals, parent journals, demographic information,

and curriculum materials. The focus of this data was first and foremost the literacy events

(Dyson, 2003) that were observed during my time in the classroom. Specifically, I sought to

understand what drew students to literacy or appeared to turn them away. I looked for signs of

meaning-making and the reasons contributing to this (e.g., cultural knowledge, social relations,

shared experiential history). As time and space permitted, I spoke with the students to better

understand the reasons for their engagement or lack of engagement. This additional step of

conversation acted as a cross-referencing technique, where I was able to see how my

observations compared to those of the students.

Data Analysis

My initial observations maintained a broad view of each participating student within the

classroom. The journals and field notes contributed to this first level of analysis by allowing for

the formation of questions/topics arising as a way of exploring emerging hypotheses. I then

identified a focal group of students for a more in-depth study based on these emerging

hypotheses, the remaining students providing the backdrop.

The second level of analysis was threefold: first involving reading/rereading for overall

understanding in order to share the story taking place within the classroom; second, the coding

and development of themes or issues arising where I looked for points of agreement and

contradiction with the current literature in order to contribute to evolving definitions of

engagement, and; third, the identification of areas of proposed change in relation to building

opportunities for greater engagement within literacy learning, as well as research with children.

Three Portraits

The portraits of Spike, Jasper and Avery offer insight into three unique journeys involving

internal and external factors, as well as differing perceptions of achievement and participation.

Space does not allow for each portrait to be shared in its entirety but here I offer an overview that

I hope will serve as a reflective tool for further discussions about literacy engagement.

Portrait One – Spike

Spike’s short brown hair is not quite as spiky as his selected pseudonym suggests. He has a thirst

for knowledge and is likely to approach you each morning to share a fact he has learned or a

funny joke he has found in a book. He always has something to say, which gets him in trouble

from time to time. During moments when he is caught not paying attention, he will usually admit

it, and his teacher will say, “That’s one thing I love about you, you’re always honest with me.”



Despite this seeming lack of attention, he is often the first to raise his hand with an

answer to a question and he is never shy to attempt an unknown word. He is the student most

likely to question if something does not seem quite right. Whether you are in authority or not, he

will tell you that you are not supposed to talk in the hallway, especially if he has just been told

the same. He could be called Mr. Observant. For example, he knows that his teacher is the only

left-handed person in the classroom.

Spike comes from a two-parent, middle-class family. He has one younger brother, in

Kindergarten. According to his parents, “Spike loves to read. Since he was born, [he] grew up

having 2 bedtime stor[ies] pretty much every night.” Some nights, however, he will decide to

draw instead of read.

Topics written about in his journal range from popular culture (Pokémon, Neopets,

popular movies) and video games (X-box, Game Boy and Tamagotchi – a digital pet), to

interests related to books and drawing. Within his journal, there are several comments from his

teacher cautioning him about a tendency to change topics too quickly. Though he is often one of

the first to hand in his journal, the length is not always satisfactory to his teacher.

In September, Spike’s parents listed the following interests and goals:

Interests: Drawing, building with LEGO, playing hockey

Goals: To have a fun time and learn new things

Spike’s Path To Engagement: Baker et al. (2000) describe the heart of engagement as “the

desire to gain new knowledge of a topic, to follow the excitement of a narrative, to expand one’s

experience through print” (p.2). This is Spike. Driven towards discovery, he found spaces within

the school day and at home to follow self-initiated literacy activities and to build his literate

lifestyle. He is the engaged reader that Baker et al. (2000) go on to describe as drawing “from

previous experiences to construct new understandings…goals are met and interests are satisfied”

(p. 2). The research process itself served to engage Spike as a co-researcher, sharing his growing

understandings throughout the study (Scheffel, 2009). More than any other student in the class, it

seemed that Spike set his own path to engagement.

To offer an example, Spike continually expressed an interest in drawing during my visits.

In his research journal, he made the following generational connection: “…because my gramie is

an artist” (Observation Day 26). In particular, drawing became a venue for exploring the popular

culture phenomenon of Pokémon. Not only did he draw favourite characters (Figure 1), but he

had also begun the process of designing his own trading card series (Figure 2), which he hoped

to market for profit in the future. Spike and his friends had even started a chapter story about the

characters he created with the ultimate goal to have their story displayed in the school library.

Unlike Spike’s teacher, who often excluded Pokémon and other popular culture

discussions, Spike’s mother encouraged this exploration. In the parent journal, she recognized

this interest as something to be valued:

Spike has enjoyed collecting Pokémon cards for the past two years. His drawings usually

resemble Pokémon characters. Spike tells me that he and his friends are going to make

their own cards when they’re 19…They have lots of interesting names like ‘Flame

Squirrel.” We laminated the cards he made and he is very excited to show them to his

friends tomorrow (Observation Day 28).



Figure 1. Examples of Spike’s ‘Alien Pet’ characters.

Figure 2. Spike’s ‘Alien Pet’ trading cards



While concerns over the influence of commercialism may stand out here, what is perhaps

more important is the way Spike and his various groups of friends saw purpose in these literacy

tasks. The ultimate purpose was one of recognition and success. Vasquez (2003) suggested,

“…there is a lot we can learn about how to support literacy development by watching children

closely as they engage with such texts” (p.125). Vasquez (2003) described the engagement of

Pokémon-related texts by her nephew Curtis and his friends as an open pedagogy that does not

privilege only print text. I see a similar pedagogy in Spike’s engagement with Pokémon, which

may benefit other students if they are allowed to explore popular culture within the school

curriculum. Alvermann & Xu (2003) provided an example of connecting popular culture with a

language arts curriculum. They outlined four approaches to using everyday literacies, offering a

place for teachers to begin when looking for practical ideas.

Dyson (2001) described a similar open-ended pedagogy in relation to writing. These open

times for composing allow educators to, “learn about children’s cultural landscapes and the

particular voices and kinds of voices that appeal to them.” (p. 431). Spike’s teacher, Kat, did

provide open-ended times for journal writing. However, letting the students know they could

write about popular culture interests and include images may have helped to make this time

something they looked forward to exploring, rather than a regular, and sometimes mundane,

routine.

Through our picture-talks, it was evident that when given ownership over tasks, Spike

was most likely to feel engaged. Unlike Jasper and Avery, what stood out was the variety of

ways in which Spike found engagement. By academic standards, Spike was the higher achiever

of the three. Though his teacher sometimes had greater expectations for his work, knowing he

was capable of writing more or going more in-depth, he achieved Grade 2 standards. For Spike,

it was a question of effort. When engaged, his desire to participate was stronger. Regardless, he

was still able to complete the work. Jasper and Avery’s portraits, on the other hand, provide a

different consideration of the path to engagement.

Portrait Two – Jasper

Jasper’s tousled blonde hair is reminiscent of a product called Bed Head that allows you to twist

your hair in various directions. Jasper too, has a habit of twisting his hair, especially the locks

above his left eye.

There is a hoarseness to Jasper’s voice that makes it distinct from others. However, he

rarely speaks, and when he does, it is often in a soft-spoken, almost whisper. Usually when he is

called upon, he says nothing but looks at you. It is hard to know whether the words are there but

he is too frightened to let them out, or if his look is a plea to leave him alone. Yet, he speaks to a

trusted few classmates, and during these moments, the words seem to flow freely, even excitedly,

as moments shared between friends.

When Jasper writes, his head is bent forward, his entire body seemingly placing pressure

to the pencil. He is usually several steps behind his classmates when following instructions and

maintaining routines. At the end of the day his desk is almost always cluttered with unfinished

work or assignments he has forgotten to place inside the drawer.

He has been tested for Central Auditory Processing (CAP) and is on medication for

Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), though his parents find these medications only serve to make



him more anxious. They believe the origin of his concerns is more related to anxiety rather than

attention.

Jasper comes from a two-parent, middle-class family and has a fraternal twin brother,

James, who is also in his class. At home they will read together as a family, taking turns. They

have also discovered an online book site that both boys love. Their mother concludes, “It seems

with these guys at least that the work has to be hidden in play to work best.”

Throughout Jasper’s journal are many pages where the writing is unfinished or includes

only the date and nothing more. It is for this reason, that his teacher finds it difficult to grade his

work. Though she feels he is more capable than the lack of completed work suggests, she is torn

in the assessment procedures that require her to give him a grade for the work completed.

In September, Jasper’s parents listed the following interests and goals:

Interests: bugs/animals, collecting “things” and toys and make-believe play

Goals: improve attention, fine motor control, listening skills & independence

Jasper’s Path To Engagement: As I consider Jasper’s portrait, I cannot help but think of

Cambourne’s notion of engagement and the idea of a safe space to take risks. For Jasper, it

seems the safest places to speak at school are when he is with his friends. These are the times

when he is playful and smiling. With adults however, and at times when he was put on the spot

to share or speak, there was a hesitancy, which often resulted in silence. I remember being struck

by his adamant words in his first research journal: “I don’t like to share my Jernel.” The reason

why hit me even harder: “because I’m nervise to share it in front of the class” (Observation Day

27). While some students shared freely within the classroom, Jasper did not have this same sense

of freedom.

The research journal offered a space where Jasper felt less inhibited: “cause I had nothing

to write about in the journal but in this one I could just write about the classroom.” His parents

shared a similar observation:

He also does not like to write (or at least begin) stories. Once he is into it, and writing

about something that interests him, he is better…Jasper, in particular likes non-fiction

books dealing with animals. He is very interested in this topic, and it is a great vehicle to

get him going or hooked on his work or reading. (Observation Day 18)

Similar interests were noted on the Parent Information sheet in September and with this in mind,

having access to books related to animals during journal time might have provided one way to

increase his interest in journal writing.

From the perspective of Baker et al.’s (2000) description of engaged readers, Jasper’s

path is a more perplexing one than Spike’s path. His literacy practices at home suggested time

for reading books of personal significance with his brother and parents. His parent journal

communicated:

We tried something new (for Reading time). We did a “Family Read” where we all sat on

the ground around a book and took turns reading. This worked really well as both Jasper

and James liked the “both parent” interaction and did not perceive it as work – but rather

“fun” time. (Observation Day 18)



There seemed an investment to participate that was very different from my observation of him at

school. His teacher, Kat, was also frustrated by this disconnect, especially when having to

evaluate incomplete work at school. She often suspected he was capable, but on a standards-

based curriculum, she needed evidence of completed work during the school day.

Observation Day 36, however, brought about an instance when Jasper overcame this

disconnect. The task was to create a game board and while Jasper’s initial query to his teacher

was an anxious, “Do you have to write anything?”, he went on to write a full set of instructions

on the back of his game (Figures 3 & 4). Even Kat commented at the way in which Jasper was

drawn into this activity. So, what was it that engaged Jasper? Is it “work hidden within fun” as

his parents spoke about in the parent journal? Perhaps it was the interaction of sharing ideas with

classmates or the choice of making a game with an open-ended template?

Figure 3. Jasper’s Game Jumbo

Figure 4. Jasper’s instructions on the reverse side of game.



Our picture-talks reflected a similar sense of action along with a pronounced emphasis on

demonstrating participation through focus or concentration, upright body language and raised

hands. This is evidenced throughout Jasper’s portrait with continued attempts to “look the part.”

For example one day as we worked together, he grabbed a pencil away from me when Kat

walked by his desk. He knew what the expected image of working looked like, and perhaps that

independent work held greater influence than shared work. It seemed that Jasper had discovered,

as Maxine Greene did in The Dialectic of Freedom (1988), that “below the surfaces there is a

whispered reminder that, if an individual plays the game, smiles, and works hard, he/she will be

rewarded” (p.15). For Jasper was rewarded when he played the part, whether through stamps or

free time privileges. However, though he may have thought he demonstrated work ethic, his

paper output provided a different picture. According to Vibert and Shields (2003),

Student engagement is identified with both compliance and involvement. Hence if a child

is following instructions, quietly completing a worksheet in math, (and especially if the

child is attaining a high percent of correct answers), she or he is considered to be

engaged. (p. 226)

What strikes me about Jasper is that he was compliant, just not involved. He did sit at his desk

and he made attempts to work. While he did not attain a high percent of correct answers, he

provided enough correct answers to demonstrate that he could do the work. His path was perhaps

a bumpy one but he was not left behind. He did what was necessary to “get by”. For Avery,

however, “getting by” was an attainment not easily within her grasp.

Portrait Three – Avery

Avery has long, blonde hair that occasionally has coloured streaks of dye running through it. Her

pale face and slender body evoke the word “fragile.” During group activities, she often sits with

her knees drawn to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs. She tends to look

downwards, though occasionally she glances up, raising her hand to offer a response. Sometimes

she is correct, but more often than not, her teacher guides her to the correct answer. When a class

response is called for, Avery waits until she hears her classmates speak collectively, and then

joins in, loud and clear, at the end of words.

In writing, Avery seeks constant reassurance. Some of the pages are scribed, while others

show assistance in the form of words spelled out at the top of the page. When sharing her work,

her voice is quiet and her reading hesitant. She looks to her teacher to help her remember the

words on the page but her teacher is not always sure what the words say either. A look at her

teacher’s grade book reveals few recorded marks. At the beginning of the school year, her

teacher requested a speech assessment, which took place late in the spring. As a result, Avery

attends weekly sessions with a speech therapist.

When Avery arrives in the morning, she sometimes lays her head down on the desk, as if

to suggest that she is not quite ready for the day to start. There are times though, when there is a

bounce in her step as she walks. During Library, she bounces in anticipation of an exciting part

in a story. When singing in music class, she smiles and bounces along to the beat of the song.

Avery comes from a single parent, working class family. Her father died suddenly when

she was in Kindergarten and she rarely speaks of him. She has three older half-siblings, but there

appears to be little direct contact with them. She goes to a babysitter’s before school, early



enough that it is the babysitter’s responsibility to brush her hair. On the days when her mom

works an early morning shift, Avery stays over night at the babysitter’s, sleeping on the couch.

In September, Avery’s mom listed the following interests and goals:

Interests: skip and play with her friends;

Goals: to learn to read and write better.

Avery’s Path to Engagement: Baker et al. (2000) suggest that, “Reading engagement is as

much a goal for the child struggling to decode words as it is for the proficient reader seeking

information for a class project” (p. 3). Avery struggled to decode words and perhaps this struggle

makes her path unique from Spike and Jasper’s path. Intending to provide cues and support, Kat

often centred Avery out publicly by offering verbal modifications that served to lessen or

devalue her contributions. For example, Kat began a lesson by saying to another student, “…if

you wrote the sentence, ‘I saw a black cat’, now that would be too easy for you wouldn’t it?” He

nodded his head and Kat then turned her focus to Avery saying, “but Avery, ‘I saw a black cat’,

or ‘I saw a little black cat’ would be a good sentence for you” (Observation Day 16). Unaware of

these not-so-hidden messages, Kat also sometimes praised others for giving an answer that

Avery did not provide when given the chance.

However, the notions of praise for a job well done did not always make Avery feel

successful about her work. On Observation Day 9, Avery was upset to discover she still had

corrections to make on a story after hearing her teacher say, “Isn’t that great. Way to go Avery”.

Having worked with her the previous day, I had encouraged her to invent spell – that is, not

always correcting every word to perfection. Avery then questioned me saying, “But you said it

was right yesterday.” I realized that I, too, had begun to make these exceptions for Avery.

Though Avery was most engaged when she was not held up by the spelling mistakes, the

correction process seemed to cancel out her feelings of success, thereby making it a daunting

task rather than an engaging one.

My picture-talk with Avery revealed few visual indicators of engagement, mostly looking

to the internal indicators of ownership, challenge, and achievement. For example, Avery was the

only student who saw herself as not engaged during a Morning Message activity. She explained

why as: “Me, because I don’t know the sentence”. It is perhaps for this reason that visual

indicators do not matter to Avery. Why worry about what it looks like to be engaged when

engagement seems elusive in relation to achievement?

Vygotsky’s (1962/1986) zone of proximal development rings true here as I consider the

notion of scaffolding literacy-learning opportunities for Avery. Avery wanted to feel like she was

working on level with her class. To her, the learning process was a struggle, not through lack of

desire, but because her position along the learning process continuum placed her at the bottom of

Grade 2. Avery had already been standing out at this point as someone whose story needed to be

shared but this moment solidified the decision for me.

Avery found a momentary sense of belonging when working alongside her best friend.

These moments often took place as I was asked to provide guidance as an additional support

within the classroom. In this space, I noticed that Avery was no longer the “weaker” student of a

large group. She was one of two, and she had something to offer to her best friend. I still

remember the moment when she attempted to help her best friend find a Word Wall word. Avery

was not held back by what she thought she could not do, but rather was sharing what she knew.



Cothran and Ennis (2000) remind us that students must be engaged in the learning

process in order to gain from a quality curriculum provided by a knowledgeable teacher.

Likewise, Mighty (2007), in reference to the NSSE survey, describes the importance of focusing

on the process of learning over a strict focus on the content to be taught. Inherent in the process

is helping students to make connections to their lives, which allows students to gain mastery over

their learning. Avery’s portrait reinforces this role of the personal when it comes to engagement.

A poignant example took play on Observation Day 12 when Avery was asked to reflect on the

people and items that made up her life. She hesitated, sharing “it’s only me and my mom.”

Unknowingly, this activity had emphasized a difference from other students in the classroom, as

well as the loss of her father in comparison to the families of her classmates.

Recognizing the bond that had formed between us, I was uncertain at the time if I had

contributed to helping Avery find the door or if I had instead, turned her farther away from it.

Seeing her growing literacy attempts, however, I knew that I did not turn her farther away. For,

as Avery experienced both her best friend leaving and then my departure, she attempted to make

sense of how she felt in both verbal and written form. Though her journal entries remained

difficult to read at times, when asked, she could read back what she intended to say. There were

no comparisons to others but just a need to write to express her thoughts.

Notably, I did not receive a parent journal from Avery’s mom and as a result, cannot

provide any insight into Avery’s literate experiences at home. While some may suggest this is

because there is a lack of interest and therefore probably a lack of participation by her mother, I

caution that this would be an unfair summarization. I do not know why the journal was not

returned. What I do know is that there is nothing to suggest any detriment on the part of Avery’s

mom in relation to Avery’s academic achievement. As a teacher and researcher, the real question

is how school can provide a space for literacy engagement.

A Framework for Literacy Engagement

Through my analysis of these three portraits of Grade 2 students, I learned that perception has a

great deal to do with how we as educators view engagement in our students. I propose a

framework for literacy engagement (Figure 5) that considers four filters through which we

perceive and thereby recognize a space for individual paths: personal, filter, observable visual,

and internal senses. Table 1 provides a descriptor for the terms within the filters.

Like Cambourne’s (1988) conditions, I envision the framework and accompanying

portraits as providing a reminder of the conditions needed for engagement. Teachers might use

them as reflective tools for collaborative discussions, lesson planning, observations, and personal

growth. Teachers might consider what path makes more sense to them as they reflect upon what

they value most as a learner and a student. As a result, we can begin to look more closely at the

question of what counts as engagement and by whom, in particular with younger students.

Teachers might also use the framework to map the individual paths of their students in relation to

their existing assessment procedures, pondering their students’ life experiences and funds of

knowledge (Gonzalez, Moll & Amanti, 2005).

Elaborating Cambourne’s (1988) fourth principle of engagement, these portraits illustrate

the significance of a teacher-student bond. Spike longed for a bond that would allow him to share

his love for Pokémon and the many ways this entered his literate lifestyle. For Jasper, the lack of

a bond, though not necessarily by anyone’s fault, contributed to his lack of communication skills.

Finally, for Avery, it seemed that she desired to be recognized for her capabilities, an expectation



that started from a place of her strengths, rather than limitations. She required an understanding

of her identity both within and outside of the classroom, as evidenced by the example of the

activity that asked her to recall family and objects in her life, bringing the loss of her father to the

forefront.

Thus, the framework can also provide a starting point for asking parents what it is that

engages their children during literacy activities at home, moving beyond the parent information

letters that teachers often send home at the beginning of the year but do not always investigate

more closely as the year progresses. As Heath (1983), Purcell-Gates (1995), Gonzalez, Moll and

Amanti (2005) and many others have demonstrated, there is a need to cross the divide between

classroom walls and students’ homes/communities. Compton-Lilly (2009) conveyed well how

this can lead teachers to rethink their assumptions and “listen to families” (p. 457).

For a teacher to be all these things is daunting, perhaps even overwhelming and

frightening. Noddings (2005) writes of an ethic of care in relation to moral education and

proposes an educational system that will allow care to thrive instead of become lost in a culture

of achievement. This proposed system is designed around themes of care as opposed to

traditional disciplines. While many educators and policy makers may find it hard to envision

such a structure, Noddings (2005) challenges us to reconsider that which will enable care to

flourish in an already demanding process of schooling.

Figure 5. A framework for literacy engagement.

Sense of Action

Who

Sense of

Active

Participation

Engagement

Upright Body Language

and Raised Hands

Positive Facial Cues

Sense of

Ownership

Sense of

Novelty

Sense of

Belonging

Sense of

Purpose

Focus or

Concentration

Sense of

Challenge

Proximity

Sense of

Achievement

Sense of

Responsibility

Term Filter

Personal Filter

Observable Visual Filter

Internal Senses Filter

Action

Who Am I? My Life Experience

Enjoyment

Interest Work

Ethic

Attention



Table 1

Description of Terms

Observable Visual Filter

Positive Facial Cues The idea that a smile suggests enjoyment and involvement.

Proximity The understanding that to sit close to the teacher demonstrates a desire to want to learn.

Upright Body

Language/Raised Hands

The reinforced behaviour of sitting upright and raising your hand to demonstrate that you

are both listening and know the answer.

Focus or Concentration A gaze that follows the learning taking place.

Action The behavioural sense of action that demonstrates participation.

Internal Senses Filter

Sense of Novelty During the daily routine of school, students sometimes want and need some novelty,

whether it is being allowed access to restricted materials, such as markers, or an activity

they have not done before.

Sense of Purpose Students are often looking for personally meaningful activities, ones that connect to their

lives and allow them to work towards a purpose.

Sense of Challenge Students are looking for activities that allow them to grow in their learning process.

These activities often represent an optimum level of challenge that mirrors Vygotsky’s

zone of proximal development (ZPD).

Sense of Achievement Students need to know that the activity is not beyond their capabilities and will allow

them to feel success. For those that struggle to meet the curriculum standards, a sense of

achievement or lack thereof, may limit their literacy engagement.

Sense of Active

Participation

Students want to be involved in what they are doing, whether it is acting out a Word Wall

word, or opportunities to write and draw as they learn.

Sense of Responsibility For some students, opportunities to lead tasks and take responsibility may contribute to

greater engagement. Creating spaces that are non-threatening, as Cambourne (1988)

suggested, are key to this sense of engagement.

Sense of Ownership

Whether through making their own choices or having the freedom to explore personal

ideas, students want opportunities that allow them to have ownership over their learning.

Sense of Belonging For some students, it is the process of working with another that creates a space for their

learning to be fostered.

Harkening back to Dewey’s (1938) progressive education, Dewey too, saw the role of the

teacher as significant to the promotion of a child’s interests. He proposed a project-based

approach that bridged the gap between the curriculum and children’s interests. In Early

Childhood Education, I see a return to similar notions in the newly outlined Early Childhood

curriculum for New Brunswick, a project for which I was a team member. Katz and Chard



(1992) and Helm and Katz (2000), influential researchers in the field of early childhood, offer

concrete ways for teachers to build upon the strengths and interests of their students.

Students, too, can be involved in discussions about engagement. In these discussions with

children, the term engagement need not be used. Rather, it is the idea of what leads students to

engagement and what makes the learning process one that allows them to walk through the door.

I invite researchers as well, to build beyond this work, to add new ideas and connections that

highlight more individual stories, in particular those in relation to areas of social justice.

Final Thoughts

As these brief portraits demonstrate, engagement is complex, and as such, requires an open-

ended conception that allows for individual paths like those of Spike, Jasper and Avery. They

teach us that engagement is as individual as the students in the classroom are. It cannot be

defined in general terms. It may be necessary to say that student engagement is a good thing, but

it is not sufficient to reduce engagement to the lowest common denominator. I leave you once

again with the image of the doorway and the three children. I ask you to remember them and the

question that remains. How might we, as educators, help each student to find his or her path

through the door?



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22

Fostering the Learner Spirituality of Students: A Teaching Narrative

Jane P. Preston

University of Saskatchewan

Abstract

The purpose of this paper is to articulate, via a personal teaching narrative, the successes and

challenges I experienced while attempting to foster the learner spirituality of students within a

middle school classroom environment. I provide a definition of the term learner spirituality, as

well as its related phrases. I present a literature review about how to foster learner spirituality

within the classroom. Then I present a personnel narrative that depicts my experience while

trying to promote the learner spirituality of a grade 7 classroom, and, in line with narrative

inquiry, I discuss the past, present, and future features of this personal experience. An

implication of this study is that in order for teachers to influence the learning spirituality of

students, teachers need to cogitate on their own learner spirituality.

Keywords: learner spirituality, narrative inquiry

Jane Preston is a research analyst for the College of Education, University of Saskatchewan. Jane’s educational

outlook is based on the experiences of teaching kindergarten to high school classes in Canada, Taiwan, Egypt, and

Kuwait. Her research interests include community/parent involvement in school, rural education, Aboriginal issues,

and narrative research.

email: [email protected]

Brock Education, Volume 21, No. 2, Spring 2012, 22-35

Jane P. Preston Fostering The Learning Spirituality

Brock Education, 21(2), 22-35 23

Introduction

Upon reading this article’s title, I speculate that the word spirituality may be both stark and

ambiguous for some readers; for that reason, at the onset of this document, explication of the

term is provided. By default, some people may automatically link spirituality to religion. Indeed,

religion is one way to potentially strengthen and reinforce a realm of spirituality; however, I

write this article under the ontological opinion that one does not need to be religious to be

spiritual learner. As referred to herein, learner spirituality is not confined within doctrines of a

church, mosque, synagogue, or temple, for example, nor is it accessed through such things as

pilgrimages, inspirational journeys, or esoteric experiences. The type of learner spirituality to

which I refer within this paper is not embellished via healing crystals, traditional forms of

meditation, or past life regression, for instance. Instead, herein, reference to the term learner

spirituality is meant to be engendered within prekindergarten to grade 12 classrooms of public

and private education. More specifically, this spirituality co-resides within student and the

teacher and fostered through the words, actions, and attitudes of everyone present within a

classroom.

Another descriptive boundary I apply to this article is clarification of the term learner

spirituality and its associated expressions. What are the differences (if any) between the terms:

learner spirituality, learning spirituality, learning spirit, spiritual learner, spiritual learning?

Broadly speaking, for me, these expressions all relate to a common definition—the constructive

act of gaining awareness, knowledge, comprehension, proficiency, and wisdom from an

experience, conditioned from non-physical abilities including feelings, attitudes, emotions, and

intuition. The effect and residue of this process is the establishment of learning that originates

from the heart and extends outward, thereby, positively affecting one’s quality of life and having

the ability to influence (whether consciously or unconsciously) the physical and spiritual

demeanor of others. Although I believe this blanket description of learning spirituality pertains to

all its lexical phrases, indication of the subtle, semantic differences between the individual

phrases may also be useful. In turn, learner spiritually implies the spirituality of the learner,

while learning spirituality implies the spirituality involved during the process of learning.

Learning spirit is the spirit of learning, a spiritual learner is a learner who is spiritual, and

spiritual learning is a process of learning that is spiritual. In what follows, depending on my

sentence structure, I use variations of the term learner spirituality; nonetheless, each term refers

to the aforementioned general definition of learner spirituality.

With the definitional boundaries of learner spirituality stated, it is important to note why

this topic is important. Perhaps due to the somewhat elusive features of learner spirituality,

authors who write on the theme of learning spirituality note that the topic is vastly neglected

within the practical realms of modern education (e.g., Berry, 1999; Daly, 2004; Moore, 2005;

O’Sullivan, 2005; O’Sullivan & Taylor, 2004, Palmer, 1998; Palmer & Zajonc, 2010). As a

result, Moore (2005), Miller (1999), and Palmer (1998) recognized an urgent need for teachers to

educate by connecting with the spirit of their students. Although such authors speak to the

importance of educators implementing curricula and pedagogy that provide youth with an

inspiring vision of how to associate with the eminent goodness of the universe, what appears to

be lacking within the literature are stories that exemplify practical means of how teachers are to

accomplish such a feat. That is, what can teachers do to nurture the learner spirituality of their

students?



The purpose of this paper is to articulate, via a personal narrative, the successes and

challenges I faced while attempting to foster the learning spirituality of students within a middle

school classroom environment. Through a literature review, I review how teachers attempt to

foster learner spirituality within the classroom. Then I present a personnel narrative that depicts

my experience while trying to promote learner spirituality within a grade 7 classroom. In line

with narrative inquiry (Clandinin, 2006; Clandinin & Connelly, 1998, 2000; Connelly &

Clandinin, 1990), I discuss the past, present, and future features of this teaching story. I conclude

by accentuating the importance of teachers performing regular self-assessments of their own

spirituality in an effort to bolster the learning spirituality of their students.

Literature Backdrop: Teachers, Students, and the Spiritual Learner

In addition to supporting the intellectual capacities of students, many authors note a need for

teachers to employ instructional pedagogy that garners the students’ spiritual and social

development (e.g., Brendtro & Brokenleg, 2001; Doige, 2003; Miller, 2002). In particular,

Kessler (2004) provided a number of practical ideas she used to generate a classroom

atmosphere, which focuses on the development of learner spirituality. Kessler believed that

streamlining her teaching pedagogy to encompass social interaction promotes learner spirituality,

and she regularly employed classroom games both to assist students in becoming fully focused

and relaxed and to embed components of fun, laughter, and cooperation into the classroom

environment. In her teaching, Kessler used a variety of student and classroom discussion

techniques. For example, she frequently asked students to bring a sentimental object into the

classroom and instructed the students to use the item as physical support when sharing personal

thoughts and feelings about difficult issues. As well, she used the discussion circle: students sat

in a circle and, one by one, experienced the opportunity to speak without interruption. For this

activity, students experienced what it is like to share with others and to be heard by fellow

students. Throughout these activities, Kessler created an environment of mutual respect,

empathy, sympathy, and personal safety.

Campbell (2010) described learner spirituality as “an individual and collective

evolutionary process that consists of the progress realization of the individual’s true Self or

being” (p. 12). In such a manner, the concept of learner spirituality is not only about the

individual learner, but also about teachers and students co-exhibiting knowledge and co-

extending constructive energy, both of which are grounded from personal experiences. On a

similar note, Ball and Pence (2006) believed fostering the learning spirit of students involves

teachers and students learning together as partners in learner-focused activities. Practical

examples of such learner-focused, collaborative activities include the sharing of personal

narratives, group work, classroom and group demonstrations, large and small-group discussions,

peer tutoring, talking circles, and hands-on experiences (Gorman, 1999; Hardes, 2006). These

instructional methods emphatically align with the concept of social constructivism (Vygotsky,

1978), a student-centered educational theory, which promotes the notion that “to learn anything,

each [student] must construct his or her own understanding by tying new information to prior

experiences” (Henson, 2003, p. 13). Shulman and Sherin (2004) indicated that constructivist

pedagogy is “learning-centered, oriented toward the development of higher-order understanding

and skills and [emphasizes] collaborative efforts by students in learning communities engaging

in complex ‘authentic’ tasks through ‘distributing their expertise” (p. 136). Most notably, the

concept of constructivism promotes the strengths and experiences of the individual learner, while



simultaneously acknowledging the need for social interaction between learners, because learning

and development is an innately social, collaborative activity (Wells, 2000).

In addition to encouraging collective engagement during learning, Dei (2002) noted that

features of curriculum and pedagogy should be used to promote spiritual learning within the

classroom. He explained that the teacher must invoke a sense of history, place, and culture into

the student’s learning, because such an action cultivates a sense of life purpose and personal

meaning for individual students. Similarity, the teacher should acknowledge learner

heterogeneity in terms of race, class, gender, language, culture, and religion. Dei drew attention

toward the importance of the teacher promoting student-relevant knowledge, the teacher

participating in collaborative teaching with other teachers and community members, and the

teacher promoting critical thinking about social justice issues.

Other authors believe that in order for teachers to promote student learner spirituality,

teachers must have the support of their colleagues. Boyd and Myers (as cite in Imel, 1998) and

Kessler (2004) noted that it is important for teachers to nurture their own spiritual development

via collaborative efforts with other teachers. During this process, teachers need to communicate

the joys and challenges they experienced while attempting to foster learner spirituality of

students. Cranton (1994) emphasized the importance of the teacher being a role model for

willingness to change and learn. These authors claim that there is an intimate connection

between teachers promoting their own learner spirituality while simultaneously fostering it

within their students.

Narrative Inquiry and Data Description

Connelly and Clandinin (1990) stipulated that for teachers, the articulation of a classroom story

is not only a medium used to reflect upon a professional experience, a personal narrative is

veritable research. Personal narratives give rise to new and deeper insight about the complexity

of professional practices, while offering lived solutions to an array of personal and professional

challenges (Clandinin, 2006; Riley & Hawe, 2004). Goodson (2003) believed narratives are

soundly suited for research that is particularly aimed at understanding the life and work of a

teacher. Ritchie and Wilson (2000) argued that within teacher education, the narrative process

promotes reflection, reinterpretation, and revision. Similarly, as perceived by Clandinin and

Connelly (1998), narrative research has potential to provoke dialogue, debate, and change within

the realm of education. Characterized through narrative inquiry, the subjective features of the

storyteller and the narrative experience itself are a salient part of the research process. In other

words, the storyteller, his/her knowledge and values, and the story are the epistemological and

ontological groundings upon which the research flourishes. The articulation of my personal

narrative within this article attends to all of these rich features of research.

Butt, Raymond, McCue, and Yamagishi (1992) believed studying a teacher’s experiences

means studying a relationship between past, present, and future. They explained that every

experience has a history (the past), is in the process of changing (the present), and is potentially

going somewhere (the future). Therefore, studying an experience means including knowledge as

it has been, as it is being, and as it will be. Similarly, as stated by Clandinin and Connelly

(2000), “Experiences grow out of experiences, and experiences lead to further experiences” (p.

2). As a result, when researchers are studying an experience they need to look at the continuity

and wholeness of that scenario (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000; Dewey, 1938). For the remainder

of the article, I follow this advice. I explain my past experience through a story; I use my current



knowledge and abilities to assess the experience (the present), and I decipher the future relevance

of my story.

The following narrative is created from a time in my teaching career when I had

completed seven years of teaching within public and private school systems. The events of my

story happened about 10 years ago while teaching in an international school located in the

Middle East. The data embodied within the following narrative is based solely on my memory of

being the grade 7 English teacher during one specific school year. Due to the time lapse of the

data and the fact that the story is created from memory, I acknowledge that the validity of this

research may be questionable to some readers; in reaction to this position, I candidly state that it

is not my intent to pursue data validity. It is my intent, however, to document the subjectivity of

data and embellish my professional growth (Clandinin & Connelly, 1998). Furthermore, due to

the asset of elapsed time, prior to writing this article, for many years I have reflected upon the

data documented herein. Part of this reflection involved deciphering and attempting to replicate

the successes I enjoyed during the teaching year. Additionally, some of the details threaded

throughout this teaching story were obtained from sporadic emails that I received and still

receive from some of my students who reminiscence about that school year.

Data Results: My Teaching Story

I divide the following story into a number of sections. In these sections, I introduce the setting of

the story, and I provide a general description of a scenario I faced in one of my classes. I discuss

the effect that my teaching had on one specific student. I provide a number of ways in which I

attempted to foster learner spirituality in my class, and I end with articulating some of the

realizations I have garnered from the teaching experience.

Take a Deep Breath: That’s the Spirit

It was the beginning of September; this school year primarily entailed teaching middle school

English to four separate classes, each comprising of approximately 20 students. Similar to the

start of every school year, I was eager, yet anxious, to meet my new students to whom I would

largely devote the next 10 month of my life. The underlying cause of my zealous and yet

apprehensive demeanour was the fact that so much was at stake. Every year it was the same;

teaching nourished and consumed me in mind, body, and soul. Success in the classroom was akin

to stoking a type of inner, fervent fire that emotionally and spiritually burned within me; in

contrast, experiencing teaching failures (like witnessing my students struggle unnecessarily)

devastated me and left me feeling dull and hollow.

The nine o’clock bell rang. Although I was yet unable to connect a name to a learning

passion, I acknowledged each student who entered the classroom. After the students settled in

their seats, we shared introductions accompanied by a personal summer ditty. I went on to

describe the fundamental content of the course via my multi-drafted, perfected syllabus. From

experience, I paid particular attention to explicating the roles of both the students and me. For the

next couple of classes, we would discuss how we would engender a class culture permeated with

respect, responsibilities, relationships, and rewards. My relatively flawless lesson plan was

repeated for the next two classes. Then in sauntered the notorious fourth class, and things began

to go askew.



As this group of teens bowled toward my classroom, their boisterous voices reverberated

throughout the hallway. From day one, it was obvious this fourth class (scheduled for the last

period of the day) was a rambunctious group. Upon entering the classroom, their dynamic

presence, a cacophony of boundless energy, supersaturated the dimensional capacity of the room.

During this class and subsequent classes, their excessively garrulous nature and preoccupied

dispositions depleted the energy that nurtured the good teacher in me. Whether it was the time of

the day, personal struggles they faced, the challenges of early adolescence, and/or something

else, it was extremely difficult to engage this group in any type of learning.

I cannot even remember where I got the idea, but about a month into the year, I decided

to do something a bit radical—well, radical for me, the curriculum-focused, organized teacher I

prided myself to be. I decided to discard the curriculum for a small portion of the class and

attend to the unconstructive energy that seemed to dominate the demeanor of these students. To

achieve this aim, I would ask students to stop ... and breathe. With this intent ensconced in my

mind (but not formally acknowledged in my lesson plan), I attempted to feed my ebbing

confidence as the noisy, impulsive group neared the classroom door.

Once in their seats, I looked blankly at the students, said nothing, and waited for silence.

When all was quiet, I told the students that, starting today, we were going to embark on a new

experience by beginning every class with a short breathing exercise. I explained that through this

practice, I hoped to calm ourselves, by first claiming and then empowering our learning spirit. I

said that when we breathe deeply, we veritably infuse energy to every cell within our bodies. I

continued by articulating the rest of my researched explanation. Through deep inhales and

exhales, we remove energy toxins, oxygenate our body, and calm our nervous system, which, in

turn, has great potential to release the drama and confusion that easily influences our words,

actions, emotions, and attitudes. I explained that slow, deep breathing, helps to create a healthy

distance between a person and any negativity that might surround that person. In contrast, short,

quick, shallow breathes continue to house any stress and drama an individual may be

experiencing.

I asked them to sit tall and close their eyes. Then I instructed them to breathe in through

the nose and exhale through the mouth. They needed to inhale fully so their lungs were filled

with revitalizing air, and they could see their abdomen expand. We took a few practice turns, and

many students burst into laughter as they exhaled. We tried a few more breathes, but this time I

requested that while they inhaled, they think about good things and when they exhaled, they

release everything bad. After a couple of days of performing our breathing exercise, the loud

outbursts of laughter started to dispel. At this point, I extended the length of the activity, just a

bit. After each inhalation, I asked them to hold on to the positive, nourishing air for about 4–5

seconds, and then, just as before, to extract everything negative from their bodies and send it

away with the extinguished breath. After some weeks had passed, I pleasantly witnessed that

their boisterous entrance into the classroom was less severe, and it took them less time to settle

into their desks.

One day during the breathing routine, I had an inspirational idea. I was standing in front

of 20 potential breathing experts; they could lead this activity just as well as I could. I asked for a

volunteer. At first, our peer-coerced volunteer was noticeably uncomfortable as she assumed

breathing leadership, but after a couple of days, her confidence grew. Each week, I asked for a

new student volunteer. Soon my presence became redundant: the students entered the classroom,

quieted themselves, and allowed their fellow peer to lead them through their breathing exercise.

Indeed, I was proud of my students and the progress we were experiencing.



Success Followed by Failure

A couple of months into this routine, I was emotionally sideswiped by the words of one of my

students enrolled in my last period of class. (I will call this student Ariel.) Ariel approached me

one day after school; she was obviously distraught and asked me if we could talk in private.

Behind the safety of the closed classroom door, she told me that her mother and father were

fighting incessantly, and, during these loud arguments, she tried to dissipate the noise by putting

her head under a pillow. In an effort to make the bad energy go away, she locked her bedroom

door and regularly engaged in our breathing exercises. Ariel explained that she felt intense

sorrow because the breathing exercises had proven ineffective—her mother and father were

getting a divorce. As I peered into her watery eyes and watched the tears roll down her cheeks,

she told me she believed in me, and she basked in the new peace that now spilled into her last

class of the day. Between her incontrollable sobs and with her head hung low, she humbly

choked out her final statement: “Outside the classroom, it doesn’t work. Why did you trick me

into believing in something that is useless? Why did you let me down, Mrs. Preston?”

Just like with our breathing exercises, at that moment, everything stopped. In addition to

Ariel misery, I felt utterly inadequate as a teacher, counsellor, mentor, and all the other things a

good teacher is supposed to be. In the midst of a classroom filled with the pain of two shattered

hearts, for a while, Ariel and I remained silent.

Fostering Learning Spirituality: More than Just Breathing

While reflecting upon Ariel’s question, “Why did you let me down, Mrs. Preston?” it became

obvious to me that infusing positive energy onto my students would take more than simple

breathing exercises. For the rest of that year, I decided I would do more than just teach (and

breathe); I would attempt to connect with the learning spirit of my students in all my classes. My

attempts to accomplish this feat were sometimes planned and accountable actions; other times,

my attempts to foster learner spirituality were intangible thoughts and feelings engendered

through my simple belief that students need, at all times, to be given the same level of respect

that teachers ideally give adults.

With regard to my pre-mediated plans, I made many changes to the dynamics of my

teaching. For example, I made it a habit that every time I assessed student assignments, I wrote at

least three positive points on each paper. After modeling this feedback, I asked students to assess

each other’s work. I asked them to first identify positive features of each paper they read and

then insert corrections and provide additional constructive feedback. I asked my students to keep

an in-class diary; at the end of every class, I requested that they write down one good thing that

happened in class or during their day. Every week, I set aside extended periods of quiet,

individual work time, played soft, relaxing music, and attempted to work one-on-one with

students. During such time, I interviewed each student and then worked with him/her,

addressing individual academic needs. Throughout the year, I witnessed much student success,

and my students and I rewarded each other via the creation of a Wow Wall—a dedicated area in

our classroom where the students’ achievements were posted publically. In addition to regularly



talking about and celebrating accomplishments, we made time to talk about our challenges. Once

a month, I set aside time for a talking circle, where every student got an opportunity to

communicate whatever he/she was feeling. As an integral part of teaching students how to

handle challenging situations, I handed out a list of inspirational books; I read chapters aloud

from these books, using them as a springboard for class discussion. I advocated that students

read these books in their spare time. I made a concerted to effort wear brightly colored clothes to

school, steering away from traditionally professional black or dark-colored attire. During class

activities, I often used a drum and tambourine; I added chants and other musical activities into

my teaching pedagogy. I regularly incorporated games and group activities into my lesson plans.

I also decided to move my teaching beyond the walls of the classroom, by organizing two

extracurricular, after-school activities: a line dancing class and a cooking class. I was pleasantly

surprised that the many of my students signed up for these classes. It was during these after-

school events that I was able to laugh with my students; therein, I became familiar with other

dimensions of their spirits.

I also endorsed learner spirituality through a more elusive, subtle approach—by

promoting the concept of respect and goodness. For example, as each student entered the

classroom, I smiled and/or greeted him/her. At the beginning of every class, I thanked the

students for coming to class and then proceeded to take attendance. My attendance ritual,

however, was not intended to be a symbol of teacher authoritarianism. Rather, I used the practise

of taking attendance as an excuse to utter each student’s name at least once in every class and as

a medium to transmit good thoughts his/her way. As much as possible, during and outside class

time, I reminded students of the individual gifts they possessed, whether that strength was his/her

innate kindness, intellectual aptitude, athletic skills, the gift of humor, strong listening skills, or

leadership abilities, for example. When problems did arise with individual students, I spoke to

these students privately about the issue. Whether talking to an individual student or a group of

students, I was vigilant never to make a derogatory remark about them or their friends. I

regularly told my students, both during and after class time how proud I was of their

accomplishments, and how lucky I was to be their teacher.

My Learning and Growth

Reflecting on this story, it was not until Ariel’s confession that I made a determined effort to

augment the breathing exercises by changing aspects of my pedagogy and by incorporating, what

I viewed as, deliberate spiritual comportments into my teaching style. Upon doing so, learning

became fun for me and appeared to become fun for the students. Without a doubt, this was the

best year of teaching I have ever experienced. In the past, I have often shared these nostalgic

memories with undergraduate students I have taught, but it was not until writing this article that I

actually made time to ponder upon what made this year so spectacular. Through this reflective

writing, I acknowledge that the spirit of the class was responsible for my teaching success. It has

been many years since I taught that grade 7 class, but through some of the emails and odd phone

calls I get from some of those students (who are now adults), they talk about their grade 7

experience, rehashing the “good times,” as they call it. I believe what my past students are really

telling me is that, during our time together, we collectively tapped into the transformational

potential of learner spirituality.

Having explained how I fostered learner spirituality within my classroom and the positive

influences of such actions, it would be negligent of me not to return to Ariel’s despair and my



related shortcomings. At the time of Ariel’s confession, I did what I could to console her. I let

her cry that day, and I advised her to go to the school counsellor. During the weeks and months

that followed, I regularly gave her inspirational notes, conveying that I cared for her, while also

reminding her of her strengths, abilities, and the positive aspects of life. However, through time

and reflection, I realize that part of fostering learner spirituality must involve teaching students

how to deal with heartache, failure, mistakes, and setbacks. Although I occasionally invited the

students to engage in class dialogue where they were encouraged to talk about any personal

difficulties they might be experiencing, this scheduled class period was the extent of my efforts

to teach the student how to deal with the difficult, frustrating, and painful events destined to

occur in every person’s life. I did not formally explain that high levels of spiritual growth are

often premised on personal mistakes and other emotionally upsetting experiences. I neglected to

tell them that the only people whom they could formally influence were themselves; I should

have explained that they did not possess the ability, nor should they want to possess the ability,

to make another person act in a certain way. Every person is experiencing his/her individualized

life-learning journey, and an important spiritual lesson I should have presented to my students is

that we need to respect all people and the choices they make.

Consequently, Ariel’s despair could have been mitigated through better preparation and

planning on my part. More specifically, I should have shown her how to use her learner

spirituality to support her emotional wellbeing while she grieved the separation of her parents. In

addition, I should have done a better job at educating my entire class on how to face life’s

challenges. I could have threaded spiritual lessons and themes into the literature I chose for the

course. I could have invited guest speakers who, through personal experience, would eloquently

and passionately articulate these life lessons. I could have better educated myself by enrolling in

professional development and/or counselling courses addressing spiritual themes. This

realization was a lesson I learned later in my teaching career, but, unfortunately, during Ariel’s

grief, I did not yet possess that understanding of teacher-learner spirituality.

Discussion of Results: Past and Present

When comparing, what the literature says about fostering the learning spirits of students and the

details of my story, similarities, and differences arise. First, in analyzing the ways in which my

story and the literature on learner spirituality aligned, several points surfaced. Although this story

took place during a time in my career when I was ignorant of the theory of social constructivism,

in reflecting on what I did in the classroom in an attempt to touch the souls of my students,

concepts of social constructivism become apparent. For example, utilizing student talking circles

and peer assessment as ways of promoting learner-focused experiences and social interaction

between learners is closely positioned with the concept social constructivism. In addition, the

literature highlights that promoting learner spirituality means promoting mutual respect among

students (Kessler, 2004). Although at the time of my story, I did not know the merits of this

literature, the concept of engendering respect between teacher and students and students and

students was a means to creating an emotionally-safe classroom atmosphere, thereby fostering a

more fecund, salubrious learning environment for students. Kessler’s (2004) views of promoting

an environment of respect, sympathy, and personal safety appear to be ideally juxtaposed to

fostering the learning spirituality of students, and, in many ways, I followed her suggestions.

There are aspects of my story that I have not seen within the published topics of teachers

fostering learner spirituality within the classroom. Perhaps, the most blatant omission I see



between the literature and this teaching narrative is connections to the breathing exercise. I do

not believe the breathing exercise, in and of itself, was responsible for fostering high levels of

learner spirituality. Instead, I view the breathing exercises as the catalyst that instigated my

students and me to explore an untapped learning dimension within their classroom—their learner

spirituality. When initially participating in the breathing exercise, each student opened

him/herself up to possible ridicule from fellow students. With the guidance of fellow students

and me, this ridicule did not surface, and, in turn, nascent trust developed between everyone in

the class. In turn, perhaps one of the first steps toward fostering learner spirituality within the

classroom is the creation of trust between/among students and the teacher.

In addition to promoting trust, fostering a healthy learning spirit within students was also

done via the promotion and accentuation of positive energy of the students and the classroom

atmosphere, in general. Appreciative inquiry is a popular organizational theory that

predominantly focuses on accentuating the best in people [the students], their organizations [the

classroom], and the world around them [the students’ lives] (Cooperrider & Srivastva, 1987).

Although it is not my intent to delve into the details of appreciative inquiry, in the context of my

story, an applicable feature of appreciative inquiry involved the teacher upholding and promoting

the assumption that every student has positive features upon which learning thrives. In the

teaching narrative, examples of articulating the positive abound from the Wow Wall to the

laughter experienced during participation in the extracurricular activities. In this context,

fostering of learning spirituality was closely linked to creating a classroom environment where

students were regularly reminded of their capabilities and accomplishments and, in turn, were

empowered with greater self-confidence.

A teacher who encourages learner spirituality delivers a style of education infused with

respect, relationship, reciprocity, and rewards. Fostering learner spirituality means endorsing a

communal, reciprocated learning culture, which is a unifying process, sparking group rapport

and learner kinship within the classroom. Such classroom connectedness creates an emotionally-

and spiritually-vibrant atmosphere where everyone is releasing and receiving each other’s

positive energy. Within this symbiotic learning environment, each student feels a sense of

belonging and knows that all students are cared for by each other, as well as by the teacher. I

believe student possession of this type of healthy learning spirit is a predetermining factor for a

student’s overall success and wellbeing in the classroom, because such an environment creates

fecund conditions for individual and communal learning.

Implications for the Future

Canada’s public education system does plenty to generate the cognitive development of students

but, in general, does little to enhance the spiritual realms of the student. North American’s

hegemonic emphasis on acquiring and hording material possessions and refining one’s physical

appearance to some elite standard has led to a host of physical, emotional, and spiritual problems

(O’Sullivan, 2005). Too many children in Canada and worldwide are experiencing lack of self-

confidence, isolation, stress, high levels of pressure, fear, poverty, and other ills that deter their

learning and growth in schools. Kessler (2004) noted, “It has been considered dangerous for

educators to address the question of spiritual development in schools,” (p. 101). With that said,

Kessler believed this shortcoming is a contributing factor to the self-destructive behaviors of

youth as illustrated through the above harmful examples and through additional examples such

as youth suicide and drugs/illicit activities. As threaded throughout this article, it is my belief and



the belief of other authors (Kessler, 2000; Miller, 1999, 2002; Palmer, 1998) that an ideal way to

address the challenging issues faced by much of today’s youth is through delivering a style of

education that ameliorates the learner spirituality of students.

For me, fostering the learner spirituality of students started with teaching students to

breathe and then extended toward reflecting on how my thoughts, words, and actions affected

each student and the learning energy of the entire class. Regardless of background, all students

intrinsically need more from their teachers than the knowledge of ABCs and 1-2-3s. In order to

address abstract, ethereal (and yet eminent) needs of students and to genuinely empower the

learning spirit of students, teachers must first acknowledge and accept that a student’s learning

spirit actually exists and that every student is inspired (both positively and negative) by this

intrinsic energy. This first step is imperative in fostering healthy individual learning spirits,

which organically feed the positive essence of the classroom, while embellishing the learning

dynamics of the entire group.

As a final point, in order for teachers to influence the learning spirituality of students,

teachers need to cogitate on their own learner spirituality. Parker Palmer (1998) speaks to this

point in his book, The Courage to Teach, where he shared many of his own teaching stories. He

beckoned educators to teach from the heart in an effort to engage students in high-level learning.

Following Palmer’s advice, herein, I attempted to explain how I taught from the heart and how

such an experience had a transformational effect on both my students and me. At times, teachers

need to stop and decipher their past in an effort to plot the future. By reflecting on past classroom

experiences, teachers give themselves time to unravel their fundamental beliefs about teaching.

In turn, once teachers can articulate their beliefs, they become empowered with recognizing

choice and creating confident, informed decisions for the future. Through this article, it is my

hope that readers may be inspired to reflect on their own experiences, unravel or solidify their

fundamental teaching beliefs, and therein find additional support to emancipate the learning

spirituality that is housed within each student.



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In Order to Be You Have to Be:

Modeling a Constructivist Approach

For for Teacher Candidates

Hilary Brown Brock University

Abstract

Self-study is a method of investigating the self in relation to the other in practice. As a teacher of

teachers, embarking on a self-study allowed me to go beyond investigating the content I teach

and required me to investigate the manner in which it needed to be taught. This paper is an

analysis of the dynamics of teaching and learning that I experienced as a university instructor

who taught an instructional methods course to teacher candidates. Throughout the course, the

teacher candidates were immersed in a constructivist theory of learning that underpinned the

instructional strategies that I modeled throughout the 20 sessions. Twenty-eight fifth-year

concurrent education students participated in two separate focus group interviews on two

campuses at the end of the course. This data was collected along with my weekly reflective

journal. Findings indicate that through an immersion experience dissonance ensued. In spite of

the inherent challenges, both the teacher candidates and I were more likely to continue to apply

parts of a constructivist learning theory beyond the present and extend what we had learned, into

our future teaching and learning practice. If successful, both student and instructor have the

potential to create more fully developed classrooms meeting the needs of most learners.

Keywords: constructivism, immersion, self-study, theory and practice, teacher education

Hilary Brown is in the Department of Teacher Education, at Brock University, St. Catharines, Ontario Canada


Brock Education, Vol. 21, No, 2, Spring 2012, pp. 36-52

Hilary Brown Constructivist Approach for Teacher Candidate

37

Brock Education, Volume 21(1), pp. 36-52

Introduction

It is well recognized that students have difficulty connecting theory to practice. Therefore,

success of a constructivist teaching and learning practice not only depends on the learners'

participation, but also relies on the educator's application of constructivist instruction. A

constructivist educator creates a context where the learner is motivated to learn, provide

meaningful content and resources, and pose relevant problems and questions at appropriate

times (Wheatley, 1991; Windschitl, 2002) while connecting these resources and questions to

the students’ existing knowledge (Baviskar, Hartle, & Whitney, 2009). While this sounds

plausible in theory, there are certain challenges to implementing constructivist instruction, which

have "proved even more difficult than many in education realize" (Windschitl, p. 131). Studies

prove that translating a theory of learning into a theory of teaching when employing a

constructivist approach in a classroom setting is complex (Kroll, 2004; Richardson, 2003).

Although professionals in the field support constructivist ideals of learning, constructivists

struggle with the matter between theory and practice. In other words, "walking the talk is often

easier said than done" (Weltman, 2002, p. 62). This is what I experienced when I began teaching

Foundational Methods to beginning teacher candidates as a part-time instructor. Throughout the

Foundational Methods course, teacher candidates are encouraged to question assumptions of

learning, teaching, and schooling while acquiring a practical understanding of, instructional

strategies, and methodologies. When promoting best practice, I espoused a constructivist

teaching and learning practice, but I rarely modeled this approach. This living contradiction

(Whitehead, 1989) caused tension in my teaching and learning practice.

One morning, in the middle of a lecture during my first year as a university instructor, I

looked across a sea of disengaged faces. I stopped talking, turned off the LCD projector, and

started:

“I feel like a bit of a fraud. Here I am telling you I am a constructivist and a humanist in

today’s lecture on philosophical orientation, and yet I am talking at you from down here,

transmitting knowledge. This does not feel right to me. I have never engaged my students

this way, and yet I have resorted to a transmission mode since I entered the university

setting. I have reflected upon this, and I could use the excuse that it is due to the course

mandate using PowerPoint and posting my presentations electronically, or the way this

room is set up with you folks sitting in the upper tier of the lecture hall so far away, or this

unmovable lectern, or the big screen projecting my PowerPoint. But quite frankly, I am

finding it is a lot easier preparing PowerPoint presentations than preparing centers and

exploratory learning activities. I am not happy with how I am teaching. I am turning into

that teacher who teaches the same content, in the same way year after year. I need to do

this differently, and I need to do it better. As I understand, all of your instructors are

teaching you how to teach more effectively in order for students to have a deeper, more

meaningful learning experience, me included, and yet I am doing exactly what I am asking

you not to do, and I am not happy about this. I am a hypocrite. I need to do things

differently so you will feel empowered to do things differently. I just wanted you to know

how I am feeling about what is happening right here, right now in reference to my own

teaching and learning practice”. The lecture hall fell silent. I was not sure what was going

on in their heads at that moment. I turned the projector back on and finished my lecture.

(Brown, 2010)


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For 16 years prior to my engagement in the Faculty of Education at a Brock University, I

had taught an integrated curriculum within a constructivist paradigm to Grade 7 and 8 students. I

had first-hand experience of meeting the needs of most adolescent learners while utilizing a

constructivist theory of learning. This study emanates from the disconnect I was experiencing as

an university instructor who, in addition to constructivism, advocated both an experiential and

holistic teaching and learning approach, but instead found myself resorting to a traditional

lecture-style. After teaching the Foundational Methods course for three years, and in my present

role as an Assistant Professor who co-ordinates Methods, I was given the opportunity to create a

separate course for concurrent education students. As a result, I established a course where the

students were encouraged to construct knowledge through interacting with their colleagues, with

an instructor guiding their learning, and with their field placement teachers who would direct

them during their teaching practicum in a school setting. It was my hope that through an

immersion experience, beginning teacher candidates would attempt this approach in their own

teaching and learning practice and, in turn, allow their own students to build knowledge that was

meaningful to them.

In this study, I explore the dynamics of teaching and learning of concurrent education

students who were immersed in a constructivist modeled approach to teaching and learning in

their fifth and final practicum year. At the same time, I interweave my own decision-making

processes as a teacher and researcher needing not only to espouse, but also to live, her values,

and beliefs. In the first half of the paper, I discuss what constructivism is and the challenges that

exist in teaching this theory of learning with the sole hope of it being practiced within the

student’s field placements and beyond. I discuss the role of self-study, the context of the course,

and my approach to organizing and modeling a constructivist theory of learning. In the second

half, I explain the method of the study, describe the data analysis, and share the lessons I learned.

Constructivism

According to Gordon (2009), “A constructivist approach to education is one in which learners

actively create, interpret, and reorganize knowledge in individual ways” (p. 738). Furthermore,

it is a theory that views “learning as interpretive, recursive, building process by active learners

interacting with the physical and social world” (Fosnot, 1996, p. 30). Constructivism is thus an

educational learning theory that has the potential to create an educational experience where

learning is more about understanding and applying concepts, constructing meaning, and critically

thinking about ideas and not just accumulating random information, memorizing it, and

regurgitating it (Gordon, 2009). This theory is often described in contrast to a traditional

transmission approach to learning where the learner is viewed as a passive receptacle being filled

with pre-determined knowledge, such as a formal lecture.

Teaching should promote experiences that require students to become active, scholarly

participators in the learning process (Gordon, 2009). Therefore, the personal learning theory an

educator aligns with will impact how s/he “views the role of the learner, the role of the teacher,

and the conditions one considers crucial for learning” (Bullard, 2003, p. 158). I am a

constructivist and as a result I passionately encourage my teacher candidates to experience how a

potential constructivist classroom operates. However, there are challenges in translating

constructivism as a theory of learning into viable instructional strategies that will illuminate this

epistemology for teacher candidates (Holt-Reynolds, 2000; Kroll, 2004; Mintrop, 2001;

Richardson, 2003).


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Richardson (2003) states that the process of directly instructing student teachers to use

step-by-step constructivist methods is problematic. In fact, she believes that it contradicts the

learning paradigm itself. Instead, she espouses that teacher educators should conduct their

classes in a constructivist manner. Mintrop (2001) echoes this sentiment by stating that as a

teacher educator he knew that he needed to “model the kind of constructivist practices for

student teachers that [he] wanted them to implement it the classroom” (p. 213). However, he

also acknowledged that there were challenges in the implementation process sharing that he did

not know how to convey to the students all the knowledge necessary to be successful while being

a constructivist at the same time. Accordingly, Kroll (2004) states that when thinking about how

to teach student-teachers about constructivism, a range of ideas need to be presented with the

intent that students are expected to struggle and “construct for themselves an articulated vision of

learning, teaching, development, and knowledge” (p. 200). In contrast to the aforementioned

theorists, Holt-Reynolds (2000) argues that executing student-centered, discourse-based classes

is complex and suggests that by promoting a predominantly constructivist classroom, as teacher

educators we are biasing teacher candidates against a more traditional learning approach which

can be just as effective for some learners.

By restructuring the concurrent Foundational Methods course in a constructivist direction

I have experienced all of these struggles. Even though I have attempted to implement

thoughtfully instructional strategies that promote a constructivist learning theory to beginning

teacher candidates, I too, wonder if I have done it justice, while at the same time I have

questioned my role in passionately promoting a constructivist classroom. This goes beyond the

act of teaching for knowledge and focuses on the importance of self-understanding and

connectedness in relation to both teaching and learning and also the understanding and

connectedness between the instructor and the students (Korthagen cited in Loughran, 2006). In

addition to restructuring the course, I recognized the need for a balanced approach to teaching

and learning where incorporating direction instruction at the appropriate time is essential.

However, in spite of my struggles I do believe that teachers who have content expertise and who

pay careful attention to the practices they employ, such as modeling and guiding learners in a

constructivist approach, have the potential to create a transformational experience for their

students and also create a community of learners. Russell (1997) has described this as the

“pedagogical turn” (p. 44), whereby in addition to making content knowledge decisions, the

instructor has thoughtfully chosen the manner in which the content is being taught and has

explicitly shared his/her intent with his/her teacher candidates.

When I experienced a disconnect between how I initially taught Foundational Methods

and a constructivist approach that incorporates a balance of direct and experiential instructional

strategies, I decided to reconstruct my own practice in order to meet the needs of a unique group

of beginning teacher candidates. To encourage a constructivist-learning environment, I needed

to foster an educational environment where teacher candidates were encouraged to be active

participants and where they could interpret their own discoveries, and organize them in a way

that made sense to them. To advocate this kind of teaching and learning milieu, I needed to

make this pedagogical turn and be the guide that modeled this philosophy in my own practice

alongside the teacher candidates as students. Reconstruction, then, in this study occurred at two

levels: in my own practice, where I attempted to effect changes in how I taught; and at the level

of the beginning teacher candidates, with the hopeful outcome that they would embrace all or

part of this learning theory in their own practice and work with their students towards building

their own knowledge.


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In other words, introducing a constructivist educational learning theory through instructor

modeling and participant immersion provided a situated context (Lave & Wenger, 1991) in

which the teacher candidates could encounter a realistic and authentic learning experience that

would support their field experiences (Kim & Hannafin, 2008). The aim of this study was thus

to emphasize “comprehensive understanding involving the whole person rather than ‘receiving’ a

body of factual knowledge about the world; on activity in and with the world; and on the view

that agent, activity, and the world mutually constitute each other” (Lave & Wenger, p. 33).

Self-Study

To gather qualitative data in an educational setting, I used a self-study design including aspects

of action research (LaBoskey, 2004; Mills, 2000). At the core of self-study is the self-

examination of one’s own pedagogical beliefs as evidenced in one’s own teaching and

scholarship (Kaplan, 2006). Therefore, to “know thyself” becomes an essential goal in the

teaching and learning process. When I began questioning my instructional intent while teaching

beginning teacher candidates, I realized that I needed to (re)interrogate my educational

philosophy and in turn (re)examine my own practice. According to LaBosky (2004), conducting

research through self-study entails five essential characteristics:

1. It must be self-initiated and self-focused.

2. It must be aimed at improving teacher education.

3. It must employ multiple (mainly qualitative) methods.

4. It must be interactive at one or more stages of the process.

5. It must achieve validation through the construction, testing, sharing, and retesting of

exemplars of teaching practice.

This self-study satisfied all five characteristics. First, it was self-initiated and self-focused,

stemming from the disconnect I was experiencing between my elementary teaching practice in

relation to my instruction at the university level. Second, one aim of this study was to determine

whether teacher candidates would be more willing to employ a constructivist teaching and

learning practice when in their field placements and beyond after being immersed in a course

modeling a constructivist approach. Whatever the result, this would provide the data necessary

to make research-driven changes to the Foundational Methods course syllabus and thereby

improve teacher education.

Third, I employed qualitative methods by using a first-person account detailing what had

precipitated my decision-making process in creating this course, as well as by conducting focus-

group interviews with the participants. Fourth, I was interactive at all stages of the process, from

designing the course to holding weekly conferences, to writing responses to the weekly

reflections, and finally to implementing the focus-group sessions.

Lastly, this is an analysis of the dynamics of teaching and learning as experienced at the

end of the academic year. An extension of this study will go on to explore how a new group of

fifth year teacher candidates experience a constructivist modeled teaching and learning

environment. By returning to the site of the investigation, I seek to achieve a level of

trustworthiness through the construction, testing, sharing, and retesting of the modeled

constructivist approach to teaching and learning. The educational significance of the second

study will be to document the development and articulation of the knowledge I gain in


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collaboration with the teacher candidates I work alongside as we create and implement a

communally based major course assignment.

In this self-study, I incorporated aspects of action research since I was attempting to

improve how the Foundational Methods course operated to improve curriculum, pedagogy, and

learning (Mills, 2000). I was particularly interested in modeling a constructivist approach to

teaching and learning. I also believed that the unique needs of fifth-year students would best be

met through immersion in an experiential approach. However, teaching teacher candidates in

this manner went beyond the traditional notion of modeling and immersion. It “involv[ed]

unpacking teaching in ways that [gave] students access to the pedagogical reasoning,

uncertainties and dilemmas of practice that are inherent in understanding teaching as being

problematic” (Loughran, 2006, p. 6). Additionally, I was interested in learning whether

Loughran’s pedagogy of teacher education would encourage teacher candidates to implement it

in their own teaching and learning practice.

It is my intent to illustrate how one can employ a constructivist educational learning

theory by providing an authentic educational situational context (Lave & Wenger, 1991), with

the hope that teacher candidates will embrace a constructivist approach to teaching and learning

when out in their field placements and beyond when they enter the profession as certified

teachers.

Study Context

As the only instructor for the fifth-year Foundational Methods course, I set out to create an

authentic learning experience for this distinct group of students. According to Gordon (2008):

Knowledge is attained when people come together to exchange ideas, articulate their

problems from their own perspectives, and construct meanings that make sense to them.

It is a process of inquiry and creation, an active and restless process that human beings

undertake to make sense of themselves, the world, and, the relationships between the two.

(p. 324)

With this in mind, I decided to invite the teacher candidates to become actively involved

in creating the culminating task for the course so that they could “see into the teaching being

experienced so that a serious examination of teaching is always a central element of practice”

(Loughran, 2006, p. 11). Over the first five sessions, we collaboratively discussed how we would

utilize backwards design (Wiggins & McTighe, 2005) to develop the culminating task, including

the students’ choice of what the task would be. We discussed how the collaborative groups

would be formed and how we would embed Cooper’s (2007) assessment for learning, assessment

of learning, and assessment as learning into both the evaluation protocol and the culminating

task. Throughout the collaborative process, the students were not only aware of how they would

be assessed and evaluated within their collaborative groups, but were also actively engaged in

developing the criteria and product on which they would be assessed. The question that was ever

present was would they implement this manner of teaching and learning in his/her own

classroom? By implementing this option for the teacher candidates it not only allowed them to

be actively involved but also illuminated for me “the complexity of teacher educators’ work

[which] hinges around recognizing, responding and managing the dual roles of teaching and

teaching about teaching concurrently” (Loughran, p. 11).


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Culminating task decision. For their culminating task, the students chose to create and

implement an integrated unit that they would pilot in their first teaching practicum. In the

simulated grade team unit (SGTU) assignment, students simulated being hired at a school and

were grouped with existing grade team members with whom they were hired to collaboratively

teach. To create these groups, the students were divided randomly according to the grade they

were assigned to teach in their field placements. What I anticipated was a simple “learning in

situ” or “learning by doing” or “situated learning” opportunity resulting in a deeper, more

meaningful learning experience where learning became “an integral and inseparable aspect of

social practice” (Lave & Wenger, 1991, p. 31), to be discussed in more detail below.

Weekly sessions. Each week I taught a mini-lesson, such as lesson planning, assessment and

evaluation, or classroom management, to match the session topic being taught that week to the

one-year Bachelor of Education students in other sections of the Foundational Methods course.

For the fifth-year education students, however, many of these topics had already been covered in

previous years. Because these topics were essential in building their integrated unit assignment,

I needed to be reassured that they knew the content and could apply it in the SGTU assignment.

Once I established that they had an in-depth understanding of the content being presented, a

whole-group discussion would ensue surrounding any issues or concerns regarding the

assignment that had emerged over the week between sessions. This way I could address these

concerns with the entire group.

After the discussions, the grade teams divided into groups for the final hour to work on

their integrated units. I sat down with each group to address their needs. One of the most

common ways in which constructivism has been misunderstood is to present it as a student-

centered teaching approach with little intervention from the teacher. I sought a balance between

teacher-and student-directed learning that required me to take an active role in teaching the

necessary content while at the same time allowing the teacher candidates to infuse what they

knew into the learning process (Gordon, 2009). Another misconception surrounding

constructivism is that teachers require students to teach themselves (Gordon, 2009). Although it

is a constructivist notion to encourage students to create their own interpretations of the text, it is

not the same as leaving them to learn it on their own. Therefore, I was present taking an active

role while the groups collaborated on their independent units. I was continually taking part in

dialogues with students and providing content expertise.

At the end of each session, we reconvened for 5 minutes as an entire class. At this time

the recorder handed in a folder with reflections, detailing what had been accomplished that

session. In turn, I provided written feedback so that I could provide assessment for learning each

week. My weekly feedback allowed the students to gain first-hand experience immersed in

Cooper’s (2007) model of assessment for learning, since many students had only been exposed

to the theory and not its practical application. The cycle of my feedback, followed by the teacher

candidate’s consideration of it, was vital for them to understand fully how assessment for

learning both looked and felt.

In summary, the final assignment for the Foundational Methods course was

collaboratively developed, negotiated, and implemented through exchanging ideas and

constructing meaning between the students and me. As a result of this engagement, the students

were explicitly guided in a modeled constructivist approach to teaching and learning, with the

opportunity to put theory into practice thereupon through creating a collaborative unit that they


43


could implement in their first teaching block. In the remainder of this paper, I describe the

methodology and discuss the lessons learned from immersing teacher candidates in a

constructivist teaching and learning approach.

Study

I sought to better understand my practice in order to improve teacher candidates’ understanding

and use of constructivism in teaching. Engaging in self-study (LaBoskey, 2004), allowed me to

develop a deeper understanding of my own teaching practice and, with this knowledge, explore

how I, as a constructivist teacher, could effect positive change ultimately aimed at improving

teacher education through the teaching of Foundational Methods to fifth-year students. In short,

I (a) collected data from students to find out how effective my constructivist approach to

teaching and learning was, and (b) this fed into my reflections and process of developing a

pedagogy of teaching and in doing so (c) I theorized my practice based on the results to become

more effective. According to Loughran (2006) theorizing our practice so that we are aware of

not only what we know but that we can also articulate it to our students through our teaching

assisted me in answering the fundamental question driving this study which was whether

immersion in a constructivist-modeled course would encourage teacher candidates to implement

this approach in their field placements and beyond.

Method

All fifth-year teacher candidates were invited to share both their positive and negative

experiences when immersed in a constructivist-modeled course by participating in a focus-group

interview before going out into the field for their final teaching placement. This method allowed

me to gather a shared understanding (Creswell, 2008) of two groups of fifth-year teacher

education candidates on two campuses since their time availability was limited. A focus-group

session allowed me to maximize the narrow time frame between our final class and their final

teaching practicum.

Recruitment. After all assignments had been graded, I invited the teacher candidates to

participate. Nineteen of 55 on one campus agreed to participate in a focus group. Nine of 22

students on the other campus participated in a second group. I facilitated a semi-structured

interview with five key guiding questions. This open-ended format allowed for topics to emerge

from the participants.

Data processing and analysis. My analysis began with the transcription of the audio recording.

Throughout this process, I had a chance to complete a general but also an intimate review of all

information (Creswell, 1998). As I typed the participants’ words, I began to identify issues,

factors, themes, and items that came up repeatedly from the data. While immersed in the

transcribing phase, I created memos reflecting my intuition of the data (Stern & Porr, 2011) that

helped me to begin to make sense of it all. After the transcription was complete, I sent out a

copy to the participants for member checking. While continuing to reread the entire data

collection, I absorbed and backtracked through the textual data and created additional memos as

I continuously spiraled back (Creswell, 1998) on the data to make meaning out of the

participants’ experience.


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As I coded and categorized the data (Creswell, 1998) consistent themes emerged. Often,

a single response fell into multiple categories. To convey the intricacy of the response the data

was coloured during the axial coding phase. By reassembling the data in a new way after open

coding (Creswell, 1998, 2008), I was able to further reduce the data into more manageable

chunks. As Creswell (1998, 2008) observed, “Data analysis is not off the shelf; rather it is

custom built” (p. 42); therefore, through data reduction the data became more controllable (Berg,

2004). With legend titles created that matched the categories I identified six themes.

The profusion of color-coded pages of data was then transferred into a spreadsheet to make

it even more manageable. By transforming the data (Berg, 2004) and listing the themes at the

top of six columns, I was able to move each section of text to the appropriate columns. Some

data were included in multiple columns. This presentation of the data enabled me to focus on

each separately while keeping in mind patterns across the data set (Berg, 2004).

In the final phase of the analysis, selective coding was used. I asked, myself “What is the

hingepin holding the [students’] stories together? What is the point of convergence?” (Stern &

Porr, 2011, pp. 66–67). I looked for the common issues, concerns, and recurring problems that

would best represent the students’ experience in a modeled constructivist classroom and isolated

each one, along with the “aha!” moments, and focused my coding here. Then I asked, “What are

the labeled codes and conceptual categories connected to this hingepin?” (Stern & Porr, p. 67).

This allowed me to further identify those specific patterns in behavior that either stifled or

allowed the students to embrace a constructivist classroom.

Lessons Learned

What I gleaned from the two focus-group interviews on both campuses reaffirmed some broad

perspectives on teaching and learning. First, the instructor plays a central role when

implementing a constructivist approach by honouring the prior knowledge and experiences of

his/her students and extending what s/he teaches from the point of introduction onwards.

Second, having students authentically reflect on their own practice, adds meaning to the process

the students undergo. Last, dissonance is an important part of the learning process if learning for

transformation is to occur. All of these broad perspectives on teaching and learning have been

well established in the literature on educational theory (e.g. Brookfield, 1995; 2006; Grennon

Brooks & Brooks, 1993; Mezirow and Associates, 2000; Schön, 1987). However, what has not

been well documented is how a university instructor acts in response to how these broad

perspectives play out while a group of students is interpreting and learning in a constructivist-

learning environment. In this section, I will share the lessons I have learned while conducting

this self-study. It is my hope that this will help teacher educators implement a constructivist-

modeled approach to teaching and learning with his/her teacher candidates and perhaps even

conduct an action self-study of his/her own in order to critically reflect upon his/her own practice

so that s/he can share his/her learning with other teachers educators.

Lesson One: Instructor Risk Taking

There is a disconnect between the theory I espouse as best practice, which is a well-balanced

approach to constructivist teaching and learning which includes implementing direct instruction

when necessary, and what our teacher candidates experience in their field placements, which is

predominantly traditional direct instructional teaching practices. For example, one focus-group


45


participant, when discussing her own evaluation of the integrated unit, stated that she had chosen

to include the math unit she was teaching in her field placement. In her unit there was no

balanced approach. She had made no attempt to include hands-on learning tasks using

manipulatives in her lessons; instead, the unit took the shape of formal lessons using direct

instruction followed by a silent independent work period completing assigned questions from the

textbook. My evaluation of her work, based on the evaluation rubric the students had created

and of which she was a part, reflected the lack of ingenuity on her part in integrating current

math practices into her lesson. She had succumbed to a formal instructional approach during her

field placement while concomitantly being involved in creating a collaborative integrated unit for

her teaching block in the Foundational Methods course. The disconnect between theory and

practice was clear; however, she had not recognized this limitation in her own practice. Instead

she chose to mirror the way her field placement teacher taught, as she later explained:

I actually used the section of my unit in my field placement and one of the responses I got

back in the assessment was that, it was math, that it was rote right out of the textbook, but

that is what my field placement teacher expected because this is how she taught. The

way that my field placement teacher taught, that’s not me, but I had to teach that way and

so that is what came through my unit.

In spite of 4 years of educational theory advocating a constructivist approach to teaching and

learning, she surrendered to a practice using a direct instruction approach, a philosophy she did

not support.

What I learned from this experience is that in the past, I had been contributing to creating

passive, teacher candidates who simply applied traditional methods by rote. That is, students

come into their final year with many years observing what they deem as best practice based on

what they have experienced in their own years of informal and silent observation as students

throughout their educational careers. Lortie (2002) refers to this as an apprenticeship of

observation. What this lesson taught me, was that I need to take risks, and continue to

reconstruct my teaching practice, such as modeling a constructivist approach to teaching and

learning, and in doing so disrupt the status quo so teacher candidates can experience a different

kind learning environment so that they can broaden their practical repertoire of teaching and

learning strategies.

If teacher educators feel that the theory they are espousing is not translating into practice

when teacher candidates are in their field placements then this study may provide teacher

educators with the framework to reconstruct their practice. This in turn may create a learning

environment where both the teacher educator and the teacher candidates can implement a

constructivist-modeled approach to teaching and learning which may narrow the gap between

theory and practice.

Lesson Two: With Risk Comes Dissonance

There is no doubt that when learners are led into the unknown dissonance ensues (Kroll, 2004;

Mintrop, 2001; Richardson 2003). How the participants felt going through a constructivist-

modeled course became an integral part of the experience. In their words, they were “thrown out

of their comfort zone,” “confused,” and “uncomfortable”. There was “a lot of resistance with this

style”, and “moaning and grumbling”, and students asking, “What am I doing here?” When


46


expressing their frustration with the course, they often juxtaposed past learning experiences to

make a comparison to their present experience. For example, in the past, they had been taught

what to think and what to say through formal instruction. Words such as “conditioned,”

“programmed,” “preached to,” and “indoctrinated” were used to describe previous learning

moments. As one participant stated, “We know what the prof wants, we know the drill.”

Another concurred, stating “instructors want us to know everything in accordance to them.” It

was a milieu in which they felt comfortable, and they mentioned they had expected Foundational

Methods to be organized in the same fashion, with a “direct approach to teaching and learning

via a Power Point presentation.” Perhaps this is why they felt “thrown into the unknown,” and

“experiencing a jolt to the system” which encouraged them to construct meaning that made sense

to them.

I, too, experienced weeks of discontent and restlessness while teacher candidates were

disenchanted with the process. Being greeted with silence—students would not even utter “good

morning”— I found this bewildering. I spent more than half the course—4 months—struggling

to make inroads with this group. I experienced a wall of resistance from the participants, who

initially were unwilling to shake loose from their preconceived notions of how one learns in a

university setting, leaving me feeling defeated and unsuccessful in the delivery and

implementation of the course.

The lesson I learned from our shared dissonance that both the students and I felt was that

learning in collaboration with the teacher candidates through both the challenging and the

transformational moments proved to be worthwhile. We just needed time to absorb fully what

each other was experiencing before we could embrace a positive shift in attitude and appreciation

for the collaborative learning process.

It was not until just after the midway point that I noted in my journal that a shift had

occurred in the group’s attitude. A couple of participants stated that when they realized that I

was modeling the theory they had learned over the past 4 years, they experienced an “aha

moment” that resulted in a transformational experience for both of them. Because this group had

moved through the teacher education program as a cohort over a 5-year period, they knew each

other very well. Perhaps, as this group had been together for five-years, this incited a ripple

effect throughout the cohort.

By January of the academic year, the momentum had shifted and a more positive attitude

began to expand and extend across the group, as most of the students became more open to a

constructivist approach. But even though the cognitive dissonance experienced both by me and

by the students was undeniable, the lesson I learned was that it was necessary for me to

experience cognitive dissonance myself as part of the process. In a study by a teacher educator

and a student teacher Russell and Bullock (cited in Loughran, 2006, p. 7), note, “unpacking a

teacher educator’s practice can be a powerful way of learning about one’s own teaching. And it

does so by creating the impetus for pursuing the necessary risk-taking that is so important in

shaping learning” (p. 7). It seemed that my risk and dissonance that ensued helped me to

identify with the students’ experience of struggle. The discontent the students experienced when

I would not tell them what to think, as well as working through my own struggles attempting to

find ways to reach the group, was worth the discomfort that both the students and I felt. Knowing

that I will probably face a group of resistant fifth-year students again in the next academic year is

the challenge I face as I prepare to model this approach to the next group of teacher candidates.

Knowing what may happen does not make it any easier, but as Freire (1997) states: “Without a

vision for tomorrow, hope is impossible” (p. 45).


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Teachers of teachers attempting this approach with teacher candidates may undergo

moments of utter joy and amazement alongside moments of utter despair and frustration, both

are worthwhile and a cause for both critical and self-reflection as teacher educators position

themselves to improve their practice as teacher educators.

Lesson Three: To Continue To Encourage Teacher Candidates To Take Risks

Teacher candidates who are willing to take risks, travel outside their comfort zone, and extend

themselves intellectually, socially, emotionally, and spiritually appear to embrace a constructivist

approach more readily than those who are not risk takers and who need to continue on a safer,

more structured, and defined path. As one participant surmised during the focus group:

I think the general theme of what we have just been talking about is risk versus reward.

It may be scary to implement something that you are not comfortable with or something

that requires a lot of front-end loading, but I think we all realize the reward that we got

out of it and what our students will get out of it.

This participant embraced what she learned and is now projecting this into her future profession

as a teacher practitioner.

As another example, one teacher candidate with a challenging intermediate-homeroom

field placement teaching assignment, asked me for advice on how she could implement and

facilitate a circle meeting into a Catholic school curriculum. I shared detailed information with

her on how to do so. While the field placement teacher was skeptical she allowed the teacher

candidate to explore this intrapersonal curriculum. The teacher candidate shared her experience

during the focus group:

I found that I was actually able to do the sharing circle in my class and that was an

invaluable experience. It really blew away all the teachers in my grade group as well as

my field placement teacher, who if you remember, I struggled to like at first. You were

saying to implement it, but since I was a guest in her classroom, to implement it in her

classroom was a struggle at first, but it ended up being an incredible experience. So in

some respects I do feel comfortable to implement some of things that I have learned from

this classroom and I feel it really changed my experience. I also know it changed other

teachers’ viewpoints on students, and more importantly, it changed the students that I

worked with, and that was one of the most touching and heartfelt experiences I have ever

had in a classroom, and it reminded me of the real reason I am a teacher.

The lesson I learned from the risk versus reward analogy is that it is necessary for

students to be immersed in a course where the learning requires them to be active rather than

passive, and where constructing one’s own interpretations of the lived experience is essential. In

short, I need to provide challenging experiences in the classroom so students can extend

themselves and take risks grounded in practice, not just grounded in theory, as they potentially

transfer this experience into their field placements and beyond into their own classroom practice.

A teacher educator accepting the prospect that cognitive dissonance may be present when

modeling a constructivist approach with teacher candidates, may better prepare him/herself for

this possibility unlike what I experienced. However, knowing that cognitive dissonance is


48


necessary in order for transformational learning to occur allows teacher educators to embrace

this likelihood in an optimistic manner and that they can come out the other side with deeper

understandings.

Lesson Four: In Order To Be, You Have To Be

If I want students to become constructivists, I have to be a constructivist myself; if I want to

continue to improve my own teaching and learning practice, I have to take risks, and accept

constructive criticism in order to build on my previous knowledge.

At the beginning of the course, I took the risk of inviting students to become active creators

of the culminating task. I was open and receptive to whatever they proposed regardless of my bias

towards any assignment they may have suggested. I stepped outside my personal comfort zone and

trusted the process. I firmly believed that building on concurrent education student’s prior knowledge

was sound pedagogy and brought meaning to their practice as beginning teachers as well. In addition

to the initial stage of the course, there was a duration of time in the process when the teacher

candidates found themselves in turmoil over what they deemed as being given no direction, since I

did not tell them what, how, and when to think. At this juncture, I had to remind myself that as a

constructivist I needed to take risks and that the risk is worth the reward. I needed to remain steadfast

and trust the process in order to move the teacher candidates and myself; through the dissonance we

were experiencing.

As a constructivist willing to take risks, I invited students to be honest and authentic learners, it

followed that I should embrace constructive criticism and the suggested improvements that are a

natural result of the invitation. I needed to be open and receptive to the constructive criticism that the

students willingly shared and more importantly I needed to take action and implement the suggested

improvements where feasible.

In summary, I learned that I have to be a constructivist and believe in the process myself as a

learner in order to guide teacher candidates through it. If I had not previously experienced a

constructivist approach to teaching and learning, then I may have been tempted to resort to simply

telling the teacher candidates what to do when they became frustrated instead of continuing to guide

their learning process. Near the end of the course many teacher candidates came to a similar

realization themselves. They stated that they were glad they experienced constructivist theory in

practice which allowed them to begin to understand the struggles their own students may face when

they approach their own practice in a constructivist way.

For teacher educators to improve what they do, perhaps attempting a practical constructivist-

modeled approach to teaching and learning will offer them a fresh way of approaching their practice

while meeting the needs of teacher education students who are well versed in educational theory but

need more practical experience. In entering into this new manner of teaching, teacher educators have

the opportunity to engage in dialogue with teacher candidates about not only what is being taught but

at the same time,

Questioning, examining and learning about the way in which it is actually being taught:

asking questions about the nature of the teaching; the influence of the practice on the

subsequent learning (or lack thereof); the manner in which the teaching has been constructed


49


and is being portrayed; how the teaching-learning environment has been created and so on.

(Loughran, 2006, p. 4)

This may open a door for teacher educators to develop their own professional knowledge and

practice.

Implications

Reconstructing my practice to incorporate a constructivist learning theory brought me one step

closer towards narrowing the gap between the textbook theory of constructivism and the

practical application of constructivism. Immersing students in constructivism enabled me to

create an environment where understanding and applying concepts, constructing meaning and

critically thinking about ideas were achieved. I discovered that by going through an immersion

process teacher candidates gained the confidence to implement a constructivist approach or parts

of the approach in their own teaching and learning practice. I was encouraged that many will

implement it when out in their field placements as they begin to live fully their values and beliefs

while honing their craft.

If I am to improve my practice as a teacher educator, I must continue to push myself out

of my comfort zone and promote experiences that require students to become active participators

in the learning process. I must provide the necessary scaffolding for all parties to succeed when

embarking on a risk-taking endeavor such as the immersion process described in this article. By

the same token the teacher candidates also have to work through the resolved and unresolved

dissonance they have experienced and make sense of it in terms of their own teaching and

learning practice. After all, transformation can only occur if it is carried out with the people, not

for them (Freire, 1970).

I believe that if teacher educators are willing to open this door and consider

reconstructing how they are teaching teacher candidates, that the active application of a

constructivist learning theory into one’s practice will make the learning environment richer, give

it context, and bring it alive in spite of the risk of becoming unpopular (Hart, 2009). It plants the

seeds for potential transformational learning to take place.

In the end, if teacher educators are successful working through a constructivist model such

as the one described here, teacher candidates learn in an educational milieu that honors their

unique learning profiles and a more fully developed classroom environment emerges that meets

the needs of most learners. Teacher educators who experiment with teaching teachers in this

manner help support a growing knowledge of teaching and learning by articulating a pedagogy

of teacher education that challenges teaching as telling by enhancing teaching for understanding

(Loughran, 2006). Both endeavours, teacher educators’ teaching about teaching and teacher

candidates’ learning about teaching, are equally important and need to be considered when

analyzing the dynamics of teaching and learning.


50


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53

Building Community in Triads Involved in Science Teacher Education: An Innovative Professional Development Model

Todd Campbell Utah State University

Abstract

This article describes a pre-service and in-service science teacher joint professional

development pilot project. It is intended to strengthen the community and facilitate

professional growth for triad members involved in the professional development of pre-

service science teachers. Through a summer workshop and follow-up monthly meetings,

this project connected the clinical experiences of the pre-service teachers with the joint

professional development of both the pre- and in-service teachers. A mixed-methods

research design was used to investigate the impact of this project. Results indicated that

this model was successful in aligning with characteristics of effective professional

development derived from national standards documents and professional development

literature. Additionally, through engaging pre- and in-service teachers in the co-creation

of modules, which were subsequently enacted in classrooms, collaborative positioning

occurred whereby the pre- and in-service teachers were found more equally sharing and

co-negotiating responsibilities in the classroom. This article describes the need for this

project and provides an in-depth description of each component of the project enacted, as

well as additional findings supportive of its effectiveness.

Keywords: professional development, pre-service science teachers, in-service science

teachers, triads

Todd Campbell is a Teacher Education and Leadership faculty member at Utah State University. He has

presented and published both nationally and internationally about in-service and pre-service science teacher

professional development, inquiry and modeling instructional strategies, and integrating technology in

science instruction.


Brock Education Volume 21, No. 2, Spring 2012, 53-69

Todd Campbell Building Community in Triads Involved in Science Teacher Education

Brock Education, Volume 21(2), Spring 2012, 53-69 54

Introduction

The National Research Council (NRC), the American Association for the Advancement

of Science (AAAS), and the National Science Teachers Association (NSTA) all

recognize and promote student inquiry in the science classroom as a central strategy for

instruction at all grade levels (NRC, 1996; AAAS, 1993; NSTA, 2004). Inquiry, as

described in the National Science Education Standards allows students to “describe

objects and events, ask questions, construct explanations, test those explanations against

current scientific knowledge, and communicate their ideas to others” (NRC, 1996, p. 2).

And, the alignment of inquiry as an instructional strategy is seen as compatible with

constructivist principles grounded in more current educational learning theory. But, while

major national organizational influences promote student inquiry in the classrooms,

O’Sullivan and Weiss (1999) found that sixty-nine percent of U.S. high school seniors

reported “never or hardly ever designing and carrying out their own experiments” in

science classrooms (p. 262). Additionally, similar shortcomings are reported in current

science experiences such as in America's Lab Report: Investigations in High School

Science (NRC 2005) and in Campbell’s and Bohn’s (2008) article as articulated in the

same western state where this professional development pilot project took place. While

the focus of this project is on inquiry in science education, the investigative results of this

research and the targets (i.e. science teacher professional development) in this pilot

project may apply to other fields (e.g. Social Studies education, English education), in

their constructivist-based pedagogies. So, while science education is discussed in detail

throughout this paper, it is believed that broader application considerations are also

appropriate.

As pre-service science teachers enter classrooms for practicum experiences, they

too experience first-hand the differences between constructivist-based reforms in science

education outlined in national standards documents (NRC, 1996) and current teaching

practices in schools. As an example, Fazio and Volante (2011) found that pre-service

science teachers perceived some constructivist-learning environment factors present in

practicum classrooms, however, for the most part, the co-operating teachers in the study,

were not applying or supporting a critical constructivist perspective along with aligned

innovative practice. For pre-service teachers, these experiences coupled with the

powerful influence of a mentor’s/cooperating teacher’s beliefs and teaching approaches,

potentially out-of-step with reform efforts, are cause for concern (Hewson, Tabachnick,

Zeichner, & Lemberger, 1998; Erickson, Mayer-Smith, Rodriguez, Chin, & Mitchell,

1994).

Additional complications and considerations often arise in practicum experiences

as members of triad (university supervisor, mentor/cooperating teachers, and pre-service

teachers) work to position themselves within the triads (Bullough & Drapper, 2004;

Campbell & Lott, 2010). Recognizing the seriousness of these problems, Hewson et al.

(1998) suggest making certain that mentors/cooperating teachers are continually offered

opportunities to learn and grow, while van Zee, Lay, and Roberts (2003) suggest

increasing the opportunities for collegial exchange between members of triads.

Through engaging in practicum and student teacher supervision, many experience

the dynamics of triads that are established to facilitate clinical experiences. As part of

professional development for pre-service teachers, education researchers recognize the



important influence of the mentor/cooperating teacher and understand the benefits that

can emerge if collaborative climates are fostered within triads (Campbell & Lott, 2010).

This article describes a professional development project that was initiated to build

community in triads and foster the professional growth of both pre- and in-service

teachers, while also providing findings from research into the effectiveness of the project

model.

Background

The Need for a Joint Pre- and In-service Professional Development Model

Assertions that inquiry instruction, although supported as an instructional strategy by

research (Chang & Mao, 1999; Ertepinar & Geban, 1996; Hakkarainen, 2003; Khishfe &

Abd-El-Khalick, 2003; Schwartz, Lederman , & Crawford, 2004) and leading national

organizations (AAAS, 1993; NRC, 1996; NRC, 2005, NSTA, 2007), is not being

employed in science classrooms (Campbell & Bohn, 2008; NRC, 2005; O’Sullivan &

Weiss, 1999; Windschitl, 2003). In this section, a connection will be made between the

need for an increased focus on inquiry instruction with the utility of a model of

professional development that partners in-service and pre-service teachers.

Current Approaches to Professional Development Experienced by In- and Pre-

service Teachers.

Professional development programs encountered by in-service teachers in schools have

often received criticism because they are typically brief in nature, and lack continuity and

adequate follow-up (Fullan & Steigelbauer, 1991; Lewis, Parsad, Carey, Bartfai, Farris,

& Smerdon, 1999; Mullins, Leighton, Laguarda, & O’Brien, 1996). When the National

Center for Educational Statistics (NCES, 2001) surveyed over 5,000 teachers from 50

states and the District of Columbia in 2000, their findings revealed that few teachers

reported,

[T]hat their professional development was linked to other program improvement

activities at their school to a great extent . . . [and] of the few teachers reporting

that their professional development was followed by related school-based

activities, even fewer of these were connected to activities where teachers helped

others to put new ideas to use (2001, p. 6).

Additionally, when current approaches to professional development experienced

by pre-service science teachers are examined, the following problems have been

identified:

As pre-service science teachers enter classrooms for practicum experiences, they

witness firsthand the differences between current reforms in science education

and current teaching practices in schools (Hewson, Tabachnick, Zeichner, &

Lemberger, 1998).



The hierarchical model of interaction between university educators and in-service

is historical, perpetuated through models of professional development while

neglecting the teacher’s role (Carlone & Webb, 2006). It discourages

opportunities for the pre-service teacher to engage in “coteaching/cogenerative

dialoguing” or collaborative teaching and discussion as outlined by Roth, Tobin,

Zimmermann, Bryant, and Davis (2002).

Pre-service teachers receive little, if any, mentoring as they enter in-service

science teachers’ classrooms (Hudson & Skamp, 2002). Hudson and Skamp

(2002) found that mentoring can be central to improving science education, yet

they were hard pressed to find such actions occurring in science classroom where

pre-service teachers had been placed.

In Canada, more recently, researchers such as Ciuffetelli-Parker, Fazio, Volante, and

Cherubini (2008) explore possible school-university partnerships aimed at developing

more cohesive teacher preparation programs that address many of these in- and pre-

service professional development concerns. Similar to the work of these researchers, this

current research also addresses relationship development, maintenance, and relational

intricacies in establishing and maintaining school-university partnerships while

supporting professional growth programs involving pre-service and in-service teachers.

Disparity Between Current Approaches to Professional Development and

Professional Development Research.

As the historical approaches to professional development are examined, one problem

identified for in-service teachers is the lack of cohesion between what is learned in

workshops and what is expected and typically done in classrooms. This problem is

worsened when professional development experiences are not linked to, or supported

through classroom experiences integrating new materials, methodologies, and practices

into the everyday experiences of teachers (Costenson & Lawson, 1986). Current research

in professional development supports the seamless integration of professional

development experiences with classroom experiences designed to allow participants to

examine the basis of what is being learned or created in the context that it will be

employed (Lemke, 2001; Birman, Desimore, Porter,& Garet, 2000; Carlone and Webb,

2006; Stein, Smith, & Silver, 1999; NRC, 1999; NRC, 2001). Carlone and Webb (2006)

argue that, “[i]nnovative approaches to professional development take seriously teachers’

knowledge goals, context, voice, and experience” (p. 546). This is best accomplished by

viewing the professional development of teachers through a transformative lens as a

process whereby teachers develop teaching practices that are shaped by standards and

knowledge that is garnered from practice (Wenger, 1998).

Innovative approaches to professional development focus on the construction of

knowledge through the circuitous routes taking place within the context of the

professional development participants’ experiences. This acknowledges that "learning to

teach involves cognitive engagement” (Neubert and Stover, 1994, p. 12) as opposed to a

deficit model of professional development that views in-service teachers as in need of

external help so that they can learn teaching practices better than those they currently use.



These approaches do not yield complete authority to the experienced teacher, nor do they

blindly accept the authority of the remedies and prescriptions of the outside expert

(McIntyre & Hagger, 1992). Innovative approaches to professional development allow

teachers to examine “basic questions about what it means to be a teacher” (NRC, 2001, p.

80) through connecting the professional development experience with the classroom.

The NCES (2001) survey referenced earlier points out the problems currently found in

linkages between professional development and other activities fostering the teacher’s

ability to implement new practices in the classroom. These results illuminate disparity

between what is currently happening and research on professional development.

Literature in professional development also acknowledges the benefits that can

emerge from “teacher assistance embedded in or directly related to the practice of

teaching” (Stein, Smith, & Silver, 1999, p. 239) or activities such as coteaching,

coplanning, mentoring, and reflection on lessons and practice with colleagues (Roth, et

al., 2002). This is closely aligned with research previously mentioned in calls for

innovative professional development focused on the local context of teachers (Carlone &

Webb, 2006; Shroyer& Enochs, 1987). Research completed regarding the effectiveness

of coteaching has demonstrated learning gains for coteachers, whether these were new

teachers, veteran teachers, or in-service teachers (Roth, Masciotra, & Boyd, 1999; Tobin,

1999), but according to NCES (2001) data, few teachers reported opportunities to help

other teachers put new ideas to use.

The National Science Education Standards (NSES) (NRC,1996), as well as other

research (Birman et al., 2000; Carlone &Webb, 2006), stresses the importance of

movement away from a one-shot approach to professional development and toward long-

term views that focuses on “[i]nquiry into teaching and learning” (p. 72). Current

conditions reported by NCES (2001) and Porter, Garet, Desimone, Yoon, & Birman

(2000) indicate that to a large extent this is not happening. Additionally, a survey of

principals, staff, and teachers indicated that “primary responsibility for deciding the

content of professional development activities, designing and planning activities, and

conducting activities rests most commonly with district staff or principals” (Choy, Chen,

& Bugarin, 2006, p. iv). These findings also contradict the position taken in the NSES

(NRC, 1996) whereby emphasis is placed on “teachers as source and facilitator of change

. . . teacher as leader . . . teacher as producer of knowledge about teaching” (p. 72). If

teachers are to become leaders, the source of change, producers of knowledge about

teaching and given responsibility for deciding content, planning, and conducting

activities, then they need to be included as collaborators with principals, staff, teacher

educators, and others involved in professional development (NRC, 1996).

While much of the research pertaining to the professional development of in-

service teachers is applicable to pre-service teachers, the problems currently experienced

by pre-service teachers only serve to exacerbate an already difficult period for pre-service

science teachers as they struggle to learn to teach and form their professional identities.

Examples of some of the most influential problems experienced by pre-service teachers

are the disconnect between what is taught in their teacher education program and what is

experienced in schools, positioning within triads, and a traditional hierarchal model

predicated on unequal power distributions inhibiting collaboration between members of

triads.



Given the current state of science education outlined specifically, and education

more broadly and the need for professional development for both pre- and in-service

teachers, a joint pre-service and in-service teacher professional development project was

seen as a fitting mechanism for addressing these teachers’ needs.

A Professional Development Project for Pre- and In-Service Teachers

The Chautauqua Model Professional Development (CMPD) program was originally

developed with National Science Foundation (NSF) funds in 1983 (Kimble Yager, &

Yager, 2006). The pre- and in-service professional development model described in this

article emerged from the CMPD model. More about the history and effectiveness of the

CMPD are described next before specifics about the pre- and in-service model is

described in detail.

Although the CMPD was developed prior to the release of the National Science

Education Standards (NSES) (NRC, 1996), it incorporates those shifts in professional

development called for in the NSES professional development standards and has the

essential components of professional development including the incorporation of

practice, implementation, feedback, and follow-up (Gusky, 1995; Joyce & Showers,

1980; Sparks 1983; Wood & Thompson, 1980). A few examples of the shifts in

professional development practices present in the CMPD include:

integration of theory and practice in the school setting through the implementation

of a fall and spring, teacher created modules,

collegial and collaborative learning through co-planning instructional modules

and sharing the results of the implementation,

staff developers acting as facilitators, consultants, and co-planners as they interact

to help build collegial communities of teachers, and

teachers seen as intellectual reflective practitioners with the freedom,

responsibility, and support for designing modules as well as assessment programs.

Several studies have been completed to assess the effectiveness of the CMPD.

Among these, specific studies investigated changes in teacher perceptions and practices

as a result of their involvement in the CMPD (Blunck, 1993; Dass, 1997; Liu, 1992).

Among other things, this research revealed that CMPD teachers’ better developed the

capacity to:

ask more questions

dispense less information

use more student questions to drive discussions

spend more time using student questions to drive discussion



spend less time at the front of the classroom “before” the students

spend more time interacting with individual students (Lui, 1992).

Additionally, teachers participating in CMPD models were found to develop increased

capacities for working with other teachers, administrators, parents, community members,

and outside experts. These are only a few of the findings that support the effectiveness of

the CMPD and the important potential benefits this model provides to support triad

collaborations that were the focus of the professional development presented here.

Because of the established success and important research supported benefits of the

Chautauqua Model of Professional Development (CMPD), it was selected to inform the

development of the model of professional development that was initiated and described

here.

The Pre- and In-Service Professional Development Model

Like the Chautauqua Model for Professional Development (CMPD), the pilot pre- and

in-service professional development model started with a summer workshop and

extended through the fall semester of the pre-service teachers clinical experiences. The

project consisted of 24 contact hours during a summer workshop and 6 contact hours

spread out over four monthly meetings, for a total of 30 contact hours. In comparison to

the CMPD model, this number of contact hours were reduced because of (a) the pilot

nature of the project and (b) pre- and in-service teacher availability. In addition to the

summer workshop and monthly meetings, e-mail correspondence, weblog postings, and

three classroom visits throughout the project were also used to support additional

interactions between and across triads.

During the summer workshop participants met one day a week for three weeks in

June and July. Monthly meetings followed this, along with regular classroom visits. The

monthly meetings were facilitated with webconferencing technologies that allowed the

pre- and in-service teachers to participate from the in-service teachers’ classrooms.

Activities central to this project were (a) pre-service and in-service mentoring teacher

groups revising and implementing curriculum in the mentoring teachers’ classroom

during the clinical experience and (b) pre-service and in-service mentoring teacher

groups completion of a collaborative inquiry project investigating one aspect of science

teaching and learning. All activities in the summer workshop, monthly meetings, and

classroom visits were designed to support participants in their implementation of revised

curriculum and completion of collaborative inquiries.

Summer workshop. Prior to the summer workshop, the mentoring/cooperating teachers

were contacted and asked to identify one module that was currently part of their

curriculum that they were not satisfied with, either because of poor student response or

concern over student learning. The identified modules provided the focal point for

module revisions between paired pre- and in-service teachers. During the summer

workshop, the paired groups revised the modules, peer taught portions of these modules



to other project participants, further revised and finalized these modules in preparation

for implementation during the Fall in the in-service teachers classrooms.

Collaborative inquiries were also included in the summer workshop because they

were perceived as a mechanism that could facilitate participants seeing themselves as

producers of knowledge about teaching and learning (NRC, 1996). Emily van Zee was

the guest speaker who helped introduce and organize these whereby “[t]he prospective

teachers [clinical students] work in small groups to design . . . small educational research

projects to conduct in collaboration with practicing teacher researchers” (van Zee, Lay, &

Roberts, 2003, p. 591). van Zee, Lay and Roberts (2003) explain that “[t]his complex

process makes possible a rich collaboration among prospective, beginning, and

experienced teachers who are researching their own science teaching practices” (p. 519).

Monthly meetings and classroom visits. The monthly meetings were held once each

month for 1 ½ hours in the evenings after school. Webconferencing was used to facilitate

these meetings, so that the mentoring teacher and pre-service teacher from each triad

could gather in the mentoring teacher’s classroom after school to meet with the other

project participants. Classroom visits were completed three times during the fall

semester.

Through the planned implementation of the revised modules in the classrooms,

teachers were not only afforded the opportunity to implement new ideas and practices

(Bell & Gilbert, 1996; Costenson & Lawson, 1986), but the monthly meetings also

allowed for continued teacher assistance embedded in practice for participants beyond the

summer workshop (Stein, Smith, & Silver, 1999).

As with any professional development project, idiosyncratic problems and

concerns were expected and did arise (Akerson & Hanuscin, 2007; Loucks-Horsley,

Hewson, & Love, 2003). These are identified and discussed in the findings from research

completed to investigate the effectiveness of this model.

Methods

Design

A mixed-methods design was used to investigate the effectiveness of the professional

development model. The mixed methods design relies on multiple approaches, rather

than restricting, or constraining, researchers’ choices to the exclusive benefits of

quantitative or qualitative designs alone. Johnson and Onwuegbuzie (2004) argue that the

methodological pluralism of mixed methods research frequently results in superior

research when compared to quantitative or qualitative methods alone. In this research,

deductive quantitative methods combine with the inductive qualitative method to reveal

the level of effectiveness of the professional development model and underlying

emergent explanations for this level of effectiveness respectively.

Data Sources

Two data sources were used to assess the effectiveness of the pre- and in-service

professional development model piloted as an initial group of two triads engaged in the



model: 1) post workshop participant surveys administered at the conclusion of the piloted

project and 2) a secondary case study (Campbell & Lott, 2010). The post-workshop

participant surveys served as the basis of the quantitative investigation whereby

descriptive statistics were used to determine the effectiveness of the professional

development model. The emergent findings from a qualitative secondary case study

(Campbell & Lott, 2010), a complementary research study completed prior to this current

study, was used to further explicate the underlying factors influencing the effectiveness

of the professional development model.

Research Instrumentation and Strategies

A post workshop survey was used as primary data sources for the quantitative component

of the mixed methods design. The post workshop survey was a three-part survey. Part

one of the survey was developed as a rubric derived from the National Science Education

Standards (NRC, 1996), and Evaluating Professional Development (Guskey, 2002). This

provided a means for assessing the extent to which the professional development program

used the characteristics of quality professional development to assist science teachers.

Part two of the survey was developed to assess the materials, learning environment,

meaningfulness of the experience, and implementation expectations. Part three, the final

part of the survey, contained open-ended questions to solicit the most valued aspects of

the professional development and opportunities for improvements to the professional

development. Because the university supervisor in both triads also served as the

professional development provider and researcher, no post workshop surveys were

collected for this member of the triads, but this member was a central informant in the

secondary case study findings presented from Campbell and Lott (2010).

The secondary case study (Campbell & Lott, 2010) was a phenomenological

qualitative study completed to investigate positioning occurring in triads. The emergent

findings reported in the earlier study were coordinated with the quantitative findings in

this study to provide depth of explanation regarding the effectiveness of the professional

development. More about the methods used in the secondary case study can be found in

Campbell and Lott (2010).

Findings and Discussion

Post Workshop Participants Surveys

Part one of the post workshop survey contained eleven indicators that were rated on a

three-point scale (i.e. Least Effective-1, Somewhat Effective-2, Most Effective-3). The

descriptive statistics for part one are found in Table 1.



Table 1.

Post Workshop Survey Part One

Indicator Avg. (N=4)

Professional Development Quality Indicator 2.5

Professional developer presents clear goals relative to the knowledge and skills to

be gained by participants (Guskey, 2002) 3

Duration/spacing of professional development (NRC, 1996) 3

Delivery mode includes theory, practice, coaching, and feedback (Guskey, 2002) 2.75

Integration of science and teaching (NRC, 1996) 3

The learning environment (NRC, 1996) 3

Source of expertise (NRC, 1996) 3

Role of professional developer (NRC, 1996) 3

Role of teacher (NRC, 1996) 3

Source of knowledge about teaching (NRC, 1996) 3

Teachers role outside the classroom (NRC, 1996) 3

Teachers role in change (NRC, 1996) 3

As evidenced by the average score of 2.5-3.0 for each indicator in comparison to the total

possible score of 3.0 on each indicator, the workshop participants reported that the

piloted model was very much aligned to the characteristics of quality professional

development outlined by the National Research Council (1996) and Gusky (2002).

Part two of the post workshop survey was rated on a scale from -2 to +2 (i.e.

Strongly Disagree [-2], Disagree [-1], Neutral [0], Agree [1], Strongly Agree [2]). The

descriptive statistics for the six indicators in part two are found in Table 2.

Table 2.

Post Workshop Survey Part Two

Indicator Avg. (N=4) The materials used enhanced the learning process. 1.5

The environment was conducive to my learning. 1.5

I was engaged in meaningful learning. 1.75

I found the content to be relevant to my work. 1.75

I believe I will incorporate my new knowledge and skills into practice. 1.75

I believe the implementation of the skills and knowledge presented will positively

impact school improvement. 1

Because of the maximum possible score aligning with strongly agree for each indicator

and the emergent averages for each of the indicators ranging from 1.00-1.75, this part of

the survey revealed an overall positive response from the participants with respect to the

materials, learning environment, meaningfulness of the experience, and implementation

expectations included and supported by the model.

The following are a few common ideas shared by participants from part three of

the survey in their own words regarding the facets of the professional development model

most valuable:



[The University Supervisor’s/Professional Development Provider’s] very strong

belief in inquiry based science teaching. Also important was the idea that

teachers can do valid and meaningful educational research right in their own

classrooms;

Implementation of the module was most valuable;

Collaboration with other educators.

In addition, responses from part three of the survey revealed the following with

respect to important additional topics that they felt could be targeted for improvement in

future iterations.

A little more on ways to share research with other teachers would be helpful.

More discussion and emphasis on standards [National Science Education

Standards] and their role in the curriculum and their relation to the state

curriculum.

Based on the post workshop surveys reported here, the professional development model

was effective because it included components of effective professional development

previously identified in the literature (e.g. teachers as producers of knowledge (NRC,

1996), implementing new ideas and practices (Bell & Gilbert, 1996; Costensons &

Lawson, 1986)). Additionally, as suggested in the literature, idiosyncratic problems and

concerns were expected and did arise (Akerson & Hanuscin, 2007; Loucks-Horsley,

Hewson, & Love, 2003) (e.g. more connection between standards and state curriculum).

The second source used to assess the effectiveness of the pre- and in-service

professional development in the mixed methods design (Campbell & Lott, 2010) revealed

the following with respect to the positions and influences found shaping positions

occurring in triads:

Mentoring teachers and clinical students in both triads assumed positions as

collaborators.

Collaborative positions were found connected to the projects in the professional

development that promoted participants’ synthesis of products (curriculum

revision/implementation and collaborative inquiries).

Social forces such as classroom possession, relationships, and trust were all found

important in the positions assumed and connected to the storyline of participants

on a journey to learn more about teaching and learning in science.

Fluidity of positioning was found as mentors oscillated between mentoring and

collaborative positions (p. 349).



In addition to the findings reported by Campbell and Lott (2010), the following

recommendations were put forth from the case study to inform future iterations of the

pre- and in-service professional development model:

Include projects in joint professional development that promotes participant

synthesis of products as they enlist what they are learning,

Ensure that adequate time is allotted for the professional development to facilitate

the establishment of trust and relationships, and

Ensure that professional development expectations are clear so that visions align

among participants. (p.349)

Finally, this model of professional development benefitted the professional

growth of the university supervisor. This occurred through increased opportunities to (a)

identify and develop more effective mechanisms for working collaboratively with pre-

and in-service teachers, (b) co-develop curriculum modules, and (c) facilitate the

professional growth of all members of the triad (Campbell & Lott, 2010).

Conclusion

There are many avenues of support than can occur to assist pre-service teachers as they

move from roles as students in teacher education programs to early career teachers. In

Canada, programs such as The New Teacher Induction Program (Ministry of Education

Ontario, 2010) see the importance of supporting pre-service teachers beyond their teacher

education programs. The professional development model described and investigated

here is positioned to extend models already being established in Canada (e.g. school-

university partnerships, Ciuffetelli-Parker, Fazio, Volante, and Cherubini (2008)) and to

provide even better support leading into the first year induction program (Ministry of

Education Ontario, 2010). By working to move beyond only peripherally including the

in-service cooperating teachers that are so influential, this approach seeks to extend the

professional development experienced in the teacher education classrooms to the clinical

classrooms. This increases the effectiveness of the professional development of pre-

service teachers, while also creating professional development opportunities for the in-

service teachers. Even though exploration of the joint professional development model is

in its infancy, and much can and should be considered in moving forward, the following

assertion offered by one of the pre-service teacher participants in the pilot project

provides a snapshot of what can be accomplished and is one among several reasons for

moving forward:

The Professional Development Seminar . . . helped me visualize myself as a real

teacher . . . I was able to feel like a part of something that could affect change and

make a difference in the lives of students. My opinion and ideas were considered

on the merits of being an intelligent, thoughtful person with significant

contributions to share, not simply a student. (Campbell & Lott, 2010, p. 349)



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A Coterminous Collaborative Learning Model:

Interconnectivity of Leadership and Learning

Ilana Margolin Levinsky College of Education

Abstract

This qualitative ethnographic study examines a collaborative leadership model focused on

learning and socially just practices within a change context of a wide educational partnership.

The study analyzes a range of perspectives of novice teachers, mentor teachers, teacher

educators and district superintendents on leadership and learning. The findings reveal the

emergence of a coalition of leaders crossing borders at all levels of the educational system: local

school level, district level and teacher education level who were involved in coterminous

collaborative learning. Four categories of learning were identified as critical to leading a

change in the educational system: learning in professional communities, learning from practice,

learning through theory and research and learning from and with leaders. The implications of

the study for policy makers as well as for practitioners are to adopt a holistic approach to the

educational environment and plan a collaborative learning continuum from initial pre-service

programs through professional development learning at all levels.

Keywords: collaborative learning, distributed leadership, community of practice, partnership.

Ilana Margolin is a senior lecturer in the M.ED program at Levinsky College of Education, Israel. She is a co-leader

of a professional community of superintendents in the Ministry of Education. Her research interests include teacher

learning in professional communities, leadership, mentoring and organizational change.


Brock Education, Volume 21, No. 2, Spring 2012, pp. 70-87

mailto:[email protected]

Ilana Margolin A Coterminous Collaborative Learning Model

Brock Education, Volume 21(2), 70-87 71

Introduction

In contrast to these systemic traditional structures and mechanisms that reinforce the status quo

and educate for obedience and conformity, there are educators and researchers who encourage

and demand profound shifts in understanding, thinking, talking, and practicing education and, in

some cases, even implement them (Mitchell & Sackney, 2009). A model that might further the

goal of change is one of collaborative inquiry, focused on change and socially just practices.

Such a model promises to build rich, exciting learning environments and develop passionate,

engaged learners at all levels who value and enjoy deep continuous learning. However,

developing a model whose goal is to rail against the lack of authentic change in schools, identify

the disturbances and decide collectively to build something different in spite of the wider system

is a great challenge (Stoll & Louis, 2007).

The objective of this paper is to examine a collaborative leadership model, focused on

learning and socially just practices within a change context of a wide educational partnership.

We1 believe that learning is the central purpose of educational organizations and that leadership

is about the learning that leads to constructive change (Lambert, 2009; Mitchell & Sackney,

2009). Socio-cultural theory and the notion that learning and leadership occur in a community

(Wenger, 1998) form the foundations and shape the perspective of our study; we applied

distributed perspective as a lens for considering the coordination and interdependence of leaders'

learning and actions (Spillane, Halverson, & Diamond, 2001).The quality of learning, which

should be the center of schooling, has been sharply criticized by researchers (Cho, Barrett,

Solomon, Portelli, & Mujawamariya, 2009; Howard & Taber, 2010; Mitchell & Sackney, 2009)

as well as by practitioners at every stage of the educational system, starting with pupils' learning

and continuing through to the learning and teaching of teachers, teacher educators and

administrators. The systemic level has also been criticized for producing unsustainable

mechanisms of rules, procedures, outcomes, and results that inhibit learning (Fullan, 2006).

Thus, our research question is how can an educational system develop and sustain intra-

and inter-organizational leadership that promotes multi-level learning in a variety of change

contexts?

The Context of the Study

During the years 2002 – 2006, our teacher education college initiated an experimental program

aiming to be integrative, coherent, and responsive to the changing needs of the educational

system and to the requirements of the Israeli National Council for Higher Education. While the

principal aim of the experiment was to construct a four-year alternative and innovative school-

based teacher education program, a major by-product was the emergence of distributed

leadership of teacher-educators and practitioners in the field (Margolin, 2007). As it was clear

from the very beginning of the experiment that innovative teacher education cannot be confined

to the college but must be taken to the field, one of its main principles was building partnerships

with schools and with the Israeli Ministry of Education. Thus, during the years 2006 – 2010 the

1 Data were collected by many colleagues and ideas were shared with them; that is why I use the first

person plural (e.g. “we”, “our”) throughout the paper.

http://www.informaworld.com/smpp/section?content=a912655863&fulltext=713240928#CIT0029



experimental program was superseded by a total college teacher education program according to

the new guidelines of the Israeli Council for Higher Education. The core leadership of the new

program was comprised of many of the teacher educators who had participated in the 2002-2006

experiment. Moreover, because creating partnerships with schools and with district

superintendents was one of the main principles of the 2002-2010 programs, the college continued

these relationships and deepened them. The distributed leadership initiative that had begun with

the experiment and involved student teachers, mentor teachers and teacher educators continued

and was joined by a group of district superintendents that learned and inquired into their practice

as a professional community. Thus, the leadership of the original experiment was now comprised

of school principals, mentor-teachers, teacher educators, superintendents and other practitioners.

Theoretical Review

The first part of this section reviews the central role of learning and leadership in educational

settings and the interconnections between them. The second part deals with the significance of

inter-organizational connections and building networks of communities of practice.

Leadership and Learning

As the challenges of improving the educational system and changing the status quo are too great

for any one leader, school, district, or even nation to tackle alone, meeting these challenges

requires a new kind of leadership (Spillane & Diamond, 2007; Stoll & Jackson, 2009).

Researchers claim that a coalition of proactive leaders crossing borders at all levels of the

educational system - local school level, teacher education level and district level - would have

the power to change the existing system (Fullan, 2005). Hallinger (2011) sums up 40 years of

research about “leadership for learning” that provides a guide for practice in schools. He

concludes that the term “leadership for learning" subsumes features of instructional,

transformational, and shared leadership and suggests a “mutual influence” model that

emphasizes the significance of leadership and learning and the profound impact of the school

context on both of them. Thus, a critical consideration and highly important function of leaders is

reshaping organizations from within by dismantling the artificial structural and cultural

boundaries that restrict organizational learning (Harris, 2008). Leaders have to construct a social

context and inter-relationships that maximize opportunities for developing collaborative learning

and leadership potential. These multi-level formal and informal leaders are change agents who

interact beyond their own positions, looking at their organizations in a holistic way -

participating in the bigger picture and creating links with other parts of the system (Pascal, 2009;

Spillane et al., 2001). Such a culture is a dramatic departure from previous frameworks and

confronts established beliefs, mindsets and patterns (Eyal & Kark, 2004; Harris, 2009; Spillane

et al., 2006).

Moreover, in educational settings, leading should mean engaging in interrelated new

learning through the process of constructive change (Fink, 2009; Lambert, 2009). Socio-cultural

perspectivists argue that learning occurs in a community; thus, communities of practice have

individual and organizational influences that impact schools, curriculum reform and teacher and

student learning. Including all participants in a professional community enables a reciprocal

learning process in which each member is a teacher and a learner simultaneously (Howard &

Taber, 2010; Paredes Scribner & Bradley-Levine, 2010; Wenger, 1998). Wenger's (1998) notion



of communities of practice, in which people are active participants in the activities of social

communities, is similar to the idea of distributive leadership. The approach of distributive

leadership stresses a social distribution in which the practice of leadership is shared and realized

within extended formal top-down and informal bottom-up groupings and networks. Distributed

leadership is about pro-activity and change of the structure and meaning of the context as well as

about influence - the many rather than the few to lead (Harris, 2007; Spillane et al., 2001).

For a meaningful and effective change to occur in the culture of educational settings there is a

need to create an open, safe and protected organizational culture, free of favoritism and internal

dissent, a culture of cohesion, integrity, mutual respect, trust and interpersonal accountability

(Mitchell & Sackney, 2009). As such, a collaborative and supportive culture has an enormous

influence on how people make sense of the meaning of learning, and leaders in all levels have to

establish conditions that give rise to increased learning. However, as every element in the system

is a part of a large relational picture, leaders are required to engage in all sets of practices at the

same time. They are expected to provide opportunities for capacity development and compelling

vision, establish structures and platforms which foster collaborative learning and stay abreast of

change (Fullan, 2009; Hallett, 2007; Leithwood & Jantzi 2008; Leithwood, Mascall, Strauss,

Sacks, Memon, & Yashkina, 2007; Sparks, 2009).

Multi-level Collaborative Learning

It is clear today that continuous learning, as a part of the development of student teachers, school

teachers, both novice and veteran, teacher educators and district superintendents is critical in the

educational system in order to meet the challenges of transforming the teaching profession and

improving schools. However, while pre-service and in-service programs have frameworks for

teacher learning and development, at least formally, teacher educators and superintendents

usually do not. Though they play a crucial role in teachers', principals' and students' development

and are supposed to be key agents in the transformation of the teaching profession, there are

usually no formal programs for preparing them for their roles (Howard & Taber, 2010; Margolin,

2011; Murray, 2008). Moreover, in order to provide students, teachers and principals with rich

learning opportunities, and enhance their learning about teaching, teacher educators and

superintendents, should serve as models of learners and as change agents and engage in an

ongoing exploration of their practice (Clandinin, 2008; Loughran, Korthagen, & Russell, 2008;

Sparks, 2009).

Recently teacher educators have become aware of their crucial role in facilitating their

learners' growth, supporting their learning, challenging them to take risks, incorporate new

perspectives, and broaden their horizons. To achieve this goal, the teacher educators have begun

to establish frameworks and spaces in which they explore their own practice collaboratively and

reflect on them. Moreover, they have redefined their roles, extending their responsiveness to

learner and societal needs and responding to the need for updated programs. These empowering

processes have contributed to their professional development, the improvement of their practice

and caused a shift from an instructional paradigm to one of learning (Howard & Taber, 2010;

Margolin, 2011; Tagg, 2008).

However, the intra-organizational learning is of utmost importance but not enough; a

systemic change requires broadening the inter-organizational connections and building networks

of communities of practice. It is a major responsibility of district leaders to manage the

instructional program of the district from a holistic point of view by establishing structures and



cultures which foster collaborative work (Leithwood & Jantzi, 2008). The policies and practical

involvement of superintendents of school-districts should be balanced by the critical theoretical

lens of teacher educators in order to balance practice with theory. Partnerships among schools,

teacher educators and superintendents would facilitate both the breadth and depth of learning

through interconnections of all participants and programs. All programs influence each other and

should focus on preparing new teachers and encouraging veteran teachers as well as teacher

educators and policy makers to change the system. This requires reframing traditional hierarchies

among participants, creating common language, multi-directional communication, coherent

messages and shared ownership and commitment at all levels (Cho et al., 2009; Møller, 2007).

Methods

This section presents the participants of the study, the research design, data collection and data

analysis and validation.

Participants

The participants were 4 groups of leaders who were involved in a longitudinal change process in

educational organizations. The study examined their perceptions of their roles of leadership and

learning during the change process. The participants of the present study were nearly 50

representatives of four populations most of whom had taken part in the experimental program of

2002-2006: 8 graduates (GR) of the experimental program who today are novice teachers; 8

mentor-teachers (MT) and their principal from one of the college's cooperating schools. This

principal is an exemplary leader and the school is one of the leading cooperating schools; 12

teacher-educators (TE); 20 superintendents (SU) who comprise the leadership of the largest

district in the Ministry of Education and the Head of the District with whom the college

collaborates. Some of the superintendents had participated in the experimental program as

individuals and others joined the professional community two years later. The researcher was the

leader of the experimental program (2002-2006) and until 2009 was the coordinator of the

college-school partnerships. Today, she co-leads with the Head of the District a professional

community of superintendents who inquire into their practice.

Research Design

Drawing on a naturalistic paradigm, we conducted an ethnographic study (Corbin & Strauss,

2008) in which we tried to capture a range of perspectives on leadership and learning of novice

teachers, mentor teachers, teacher educators and district superintendents. The ethnographic

methodology seemed suitable for examining the particular culture each group represented and

the challenge of integrating the various voices into a multi-cultural model of leadership. The

methods employed in this study emanated from the efforts to inquire deeply into the real life

daily norms, actions and routines that foster learning. Thus, we analyzed the discourse and

practices of the four groups focusing on the learning processes.





Data Collection

Data were collected from various sources: (1) transcripts of 20 superintendents' professional

community group discussions during an academic year; (2) transcripts of discussions of four

focus groups: superintendents, teacher educators, mentor teachers and graduates; (3) transcripts

of interviews the researcher conducted with 8 of the participants (2 from each group) to ascertain

their views relating to learning and leadership. The interviews were open ended and lasted

between an hour and an hour and a half. The opening questions were: What kind of leader are

you and what helped you to develop as a leader?

Data Analysis and Validation

All transcripts were analyzed qualitatively using open coding (Corbin & Strauss, 2008). The

coding involved four processes:

Searching discretely within each group's discourse for participants' descriptions of

leadership and learning and categorizing them into units.

Sorting the units and categorizing them into themes concerning learning and leadership

that converge among all groups.

Choosing the theme of collaborative learning, and through a dialectical process between

the data and theory dividing it into 4 sub-categories.

Looking for similarities and differences within the groups and between them.

Validation of the findings involved triangulation of all sources by means of:

a dialectic between data and theory dealing with the process of developing leadership for

learning.

review of the results and feedback from 3 teacher educators who served as critical

friends.

a discussion of the significance of the findings with the groups of superintendents and

teacher educators.

an evaluative review from an outsider researcher.

Findings

Through analysis of the data, we identified four categories of the theme of continuous

collaborative learning that leaders in all groups perceived as critical to leading a change in the

educational system:




Learning in professional communities

Learning from practice

Learning through theory and collaborative research

Learning from and with leaders - mentoring

All members in the four groups experienced diverse learning opportunities in various

frameworks of professional learning communities. All participants, without exception, mention

this ongoing learning and emphasize four main aspects of it.

Learning in Professional Communities

Graduates of the program, who have in the meantime become teachers, reported developing the

practice of continuous learning in a community during four years of their studies. Moreover, they

report trying to build professional learning communities in their new teaching positions such as

those they had experienced. Sara (GR), a teacher of special education, describes how she is

building a professional learning community with the staff connected to her class:

I connect to them [her colleagues] through learning ... Build trust, build a group that is

learning... It started from college, believing in the discussion... Through feedback with

clinical supervisors, colleagues and the mentor-teacher I could examine my behavior, to

improve my capacities, to cope with new problems and situations, overcome difficulties

and give personal meaning to my experience (Graduates' focus group, July, 2010).

The quote indicates that the teacher is relying on her past experience of learning in a learning

community where she received feedback from faculty members on her lessons, and on her

capacity to cope with difficulties. The kind of leadership she is implementing following this

experience is of a leader who believes in learning and is conscious of the need for building such

a community where there is trust among participants.

In the cooperating school, learning in professional communities has become a way of life.

Alona (MT) describes her learning community which includes veteran and novice teachers and

student teachers:

If we can learn together with students, without ego, we are all equal wanting to improve

and learn. Once this ego disappears, and we understand that we constantly have to learn

with someone who can help in this area or another area... When we go out for tutoring, we

come with what we have, but slowly, bringing it to the teachers ... (Teachers' focus group,

June, 2010).

Sara (GR) talked about her leading the team working in her class, and Alona (MT) is talking

about a wider circle of shared learning. This school created simultaneous distributed, ego-free

leadership learning and teaching. The student teachers are full partners in this community and the

mentors understand that they also benefit from this collaborative learning. When they are

required to explain their practice and thinking to student teachers who ask naïve questions, the



mentor teachers themselves benefit from rethinking their conceptions and prior assumptions.

After several years, some of the mentors have become tutors and then, as Alona (MT) says, they

apply the training model which they experienced.

In the college, ongoing learning in a professional community became an integral part of

the academic work of teacher educators. Sharon (TE) the head of the elementary school program

emphasizes the importance of learning in the community:

It's not enough that it is in us, people who stay only with themselves do not reach

greatness. We have to be open to all kinds of ideas ... Hearing the different voices,

understanding the complexity.... My learning was created in the meetings in the college,

in learning sessions each week ... Formal learning as well gives a sense of security,

professionalism. I'm ready to take the responsibility… Matter of sharing is important, but

not only. The merger of learning and practice, I know more, understand more, doing

things in a more informed way helped me understand many things and I try to implement

them (Interview, November, 2010).

Sharon (TE) mentioned the opportunity given to her for formal learning in the experimental

program. From her words it is seen that she is now a leader who listens, is attentive to the

different voices and takes responsibility more readily.

The most dramatic change relating to social learning in a professional community came

from the group of the superintendents, who for many years had been engaged in intensive

administrative work and rarely found time for collaborative learning. Opportunity for peer

learning and collaboration in a professional learning community that was founded in cooperation

with the Head of the District and the College has created a change in both perceptions of

leadership and practice of superintendents, as Maidy (SU) notes:

The group created a committed learning community. There was a safe space for learning

and for bringing up issues from the field without worry. The connection to theoretical

literature served as an anchor that created a common language. The Head of the District

established a culture of learning that allowed us to explore our work in a professional

manner. Our professional community established a reputation and became an inspiration

for the entire district (Superintendents' focus group, October, 2010).

The possibilities for learning and exploring her practice that Maidy (SU) was exposed to within

the framework created in the district helped her build new capacities and expand the concept of

leadership. Her comments add the element of theoretical learning to those of the other

participants. This opportunity has made her a mediator leader that learns theory, interprets the

practice through it and in parallel processes encourages principals and teachers in her domain to

investigate and reflect on their work. This practice is not obvious among superintendents. Maidy

also mentions the common language created in the superintendents' group which helps their

shared leadership functions.

The Head of the District (SU), who never missed a community learning session, indicated

the contribution of the social learning in the community:

Real learning is what we do around the table. Also I'm learning all the time. This meeting

creates cognitive dissonance that allows me to think about the principles of the district



budgets differently. We are here in a thinking group that helps me make professional

decisions. Explicit and implicit feedback from people who are in the field is very

important to me. It helps me decide what to emphasize and what to put aside (Community

session, December, 2009).

Hearing the different voices and feedback helps The Head of the District supervise the allocation

of budgets, determining the priorities of the district. The Head of the District's leadership now

also rests on what she learns from her colleagues.

All participants emphasized the fact that they were learning together all the time and the

circles of learning were widening.

Learning From Practice

The focus of learning in all the groups was practice. The main principle of putting practice at the

center caused leaders in each of the organizations to create frequent learning opportunities in

schools and classrooms: college faculty working in partnerships with schools; superintendents

observing classes in conjunction with principals and giving feedback, and all of them using data

collected in classrooms as raw material for learning in community meetings. Thus, leadership

finds expression in leaders' daily activities with their partners.

Program graduates feel that during the years of their education at the college they have

acquired experience in learning and teaching. Sara (GR) remembers the cocoon of learning and

support she had while she was a student and emphasizes the confidence and faith that she was

given by her past experience. This has made her a determined leader who is not discouraged by

failure.

What gives me the confidence is that now I know that it's OK to fall, even if I fall and if

I'm mistaken, I'll know to get up ... From past experience, when I fell, I got up. I stood up

alone, or with help; however I believed in myself. I experienced staying down a long

time, it was also OK… (Graduates' focus group, July 2010).

Superintendents also stress the importance of action as opposed to speech:

Today we are within action in the field; we do not talk about but do. I'm a manual laborer.

I have rolled up my sleeves and started working in the pits; you need to get dirty.

Although I perceived myself as a field worker, only now I actualized the field…

(Superintendents' focus group, October, 2010).

In the past these superintendents were soloists with a wide span of control over dozens of

schools. Within the new program, they have experienced shared learning with their colleagues,

team thinking, joint planning and observation of classes, namely rolling up their sleeves as Liany

(SU), the superintendent of the counselors describes:

The main thing is the partnership in the field. That we got a full day in this school was the

most significant learning. Via partnership with Kory [comprehensive superintendent] and

Dana [mathematics tutor], we manage an ongoing dialogue through which I revive a

different perspective and attain mutual learning. As we learn more, we improve the



activity in school. The observations and feedback I learn here, I also transfer to the work

with the counselors (Community session, December, 2009).

Opportunity to learn from practice upgraded Liany's (SU) and the schools' practice. Liany is a

leader who studies in collaboration with colleagues as a mutual learning experience in schools.

Liany also sees it as her job to transfer this learning model to another forum of counselors for

which she is responsible and enable them to learn in a same way. Like Liany, Ava (SU) also sees

it as her job to build a learning model similar to that which she is experiencing:

I should identify learning potential in the field and elevate it for learning. I think my role

is to bring opportunities to school, to create dialogue around teaching and learning, and

create routines to encourage teachers to participate in decisions at school (Community

session, December, 2009).

Unlike the past, when superintendents perceived their role as leaders mainly in giving

instructions and in assessment of achievements at schools, Ava (SU) adds to Liany's (SU) words

the role of the leader to identify opportunities within the school, create routines that enable

dialogue and build collaborative leadership.

Like the superintendents, the college faculty has also internalized the culture of social

learning, and they see themselves as responsible for creating a "model of social learning through

practice in schools" (Hana, TE). Hana, the mathematics methods supervisor adds that this has

also been "a significant change in teaching mathematics for teachers at school, not just for

students." In addition to transferring the model specified by the superintendents, the mathematics

supervisor became a change agent in the schools where she tutors. She creates learning

opportunities among teachers and students whom she guides in the field in order to lead change

in the patterns of learning and teaching.

As seen through the examples presented in the data, the opportunities to experience

concrete activities and the ability to identify them are critical to learning and leading. While

doing this, new meanings are created, significant values are emphasized and a vision is built.

Social learning is reflected in professional communities and in daily experience of practice and

its analysis. Leadership capacities are learned while experiencing them.

Learning Through Theory and Collaborative Research

Some quotes from graduates and superintendents stressed the importance of data collection in

classrooms and schools. The Head of the District (SU) constantly emphasized the importance of

decision making and action based on data, and also ensured that all populations of educators,

superintendents, principals and teachers in the district collected various types of data. However, a

disparity is seen in this element between the groups. Sara (GR) notes the importance of data

collection:

Research methods taught me the importance of data collection and analysis and improved

my reflective capacity and my desire to grow and generate change. Many partners in

research taught me teamwork, the inclusion of the opinions of others, critical thinking

and learning from others. I consider myself a person who explores each area and its

connection to my life (Graduates' focus group, July, 2010).



Group research was one of the five main principles of the experimental program. This experience

gave Sara tools which she uses to this day as a teacher and as the leader of a team. The

experimental program created an inquiry stance among its participants and encouraged the

faculty to publish their studies and present them at conferences. Sharon (TE), the head of the

elementary school program who was completing her doctorate during the experimental program,

explains:

The pressure for documentation and research was an opportunity. In my position today

there are things that came with from my learning then. A significant learning occurred,

and documentation enabled me go back to it and understand it in retrospect... The driving

force for inquiry is something I would never have achieved by myself... (Interview,

November, 2010).

Among clinical supervisors, practice had been the focus throughout the years, but much of their

field guidance was intuitive and the connection to theory was weak. Sharon admits that without

the impetus and encouragement received from the leaders of the experiment she would not have

submitted her doctoral dissertation. In retrospect, she understands the importance of reflective

thinking the study encouraged her to achieve and the significance of research relating to her

leadership pattern today, which is based on inquiring practice and data collection.

The novice teachers, the teacher educators and the supervisors all raised the issue of

collecting data and researching their practice for learning and leadership. The school teachers did

not raise this issue. Though working with student teachers and teacher educators who were

inquiring into their practice, teacher leaders in this school focused on other elements.

The last sub-category mentioned by all the parties was learning in the company of significant

leaders and being mentored by them.

Learning With and From Leaders

Participants in all groups noted the significance of working under the baton of a nurturing leader

that gave them an opportunity to build leadership capacities, to be empowered and to shape their

perceptions of leadership. The methods supervisor of mathematics, Hana (TE), is a leader who

left a mark on many students and teachers with whom she worked. Vivi (MT), one of Hana's

mentor teachers, remarked:

I went through a process of thinking with Hana [TE] which was really a great privilege,

and I underwent a conceptual change in thinking of what really matters and where I

should lead. I have faith in myself first as being able to lead any change, and belief in the

colleagues I am supposed to mentor… I learned to see a change process which has a start

and end point... (Teachers' focus group, June 2010).

Vivi (MT) who was empowered by her supervisor, became a tutor of mathematics and has

developed a different perception of herself and of teaching mathematics. Furthermore, she has

become a capable leader who believes in herself and her ability to lead change. The change led

by Hana (TE) in the school was the construction of frameworks to learn from practice. These

included observations in classes, demonstration of mathematical discourse with pupils, analysis

and feedback - linking them all to theoretical learning in the professional community.



Like the mentor teachers, the school principal and superintendents all spoke about leaders

that had empowered them, created opportunities for leadership for them and served as models by

which they could develop their own leadership. Hava (MT), the school principal, says that the

one who conceived the idea of partnership between the school and the college was Sonia (SU),

the Head of the District: "She believed a leader must support the followers and not let them fall.

She did it all the way… every time I need help I can apply to her". Hava (MT) sees in the Head

of the District an initiator leader, bringing changes and supporting her followers, a model she

adopts for herself. The superintendents share Hava's opinion concerning the Head of the District:

I was empowered by Sonia, the Head of the District. Her presence in the professional

learning community was important, because through you [the researcher] and Sonia, I had

a model; I went into the field feeling much safer. Our professional community gave me

confidence in my image as a superintendent and also diffused to the field

(Superintendents' focus group, October 2010).

Kory (SU) noted the regular participation of the Head of the District in the learning sessions of

the professional learning community of the superintendents, which broadcasted a clear message

about the importance of this learning framework. She sees in the Head a supportive and

empowering leader who herself is simultaneously a learner and a teacher. In this framework

Kory (SU) has built her leadership capacities and become a superintendent who is confident in

herself and conveys this in the field.

Teacher educators also point out the significant learning and experience through leaders

that have helped them in formulating their own leadership; as Sharon (TE), the Head of the

college elementary school program said in an interview held with the researcher:

You [researcher] made a lot of people recognize opportunities. All the opportunities we

talked about- you created them: the co-teaching, the learning of theory, it has a lot of

repercussions now. You caused people to understand through experiencing the complexity

of reality and leadership. Awareness of context made us understand that there are

opportunities all the time, but you should see them, understand them and actualize them

(Interview, November 2010).

Sharon (TE) sees in the leader of the experimental program a model for leadership, especially in

the sense of creating a variety of options that gave rise to learning and leadership. Sharon herself

has formulated a model of leadership from what she learned from working with leaders and

created numerous opportunities that enable other leaders to develop. She says: "From what I

know and experienced: instead of talking about what to do, modeling is critical".

There is ample evidence that modeling by significant leaders was a key ingredient for

constructing future sustainable leadership and continuous learning. The implicit mentoring by

these leaders was an important scaffold for building their own perception and style of leadership.

Discussion

Three main findings can be drawn from our data.

First, leadership and adult learning in educational organizations seem to be

interconnected and reciprocally influence each other. The conditions and situations that affected



and promoted continuous learning were the same as those that promoted leadership. One of the

critical aspects was experiencing collaborative learning and leadership as part of the participants'

daily work.

Second, change in organizational culture can be the result of collaborative learning and

distributed leadership. It is interesting to note the congruency between current research on

learning and distributed leadership (Harris, 2007; Lambert, 2009; Spillane et al., 2001) and the

perception of the leaders participating in this study. Most of them perceived learning as the

central component of schooling and strove for a different kind of deep powerful learning for

themselves and those they taught or supervised. This different kind of learning is enthusiastic

and passionate and enables learners to make sense of new ideas, question assumptions, raise

conflicts and difficulties and think slowly and deeply. All of them agreed that learning in

professional communities is one of the more significant strategies for promoting collaboration

and change in their setting (Mitchell & Sackney, 2009; Wenger, 1998). The change in the

organizational culture was accomplished by challenging the existing system and changing the

status quo. Participants learned to be leaders by leading collaboratively and to be learners by

continuous daily learning while accomplishing their roles.

Finally, variations in the kinds of learning leaders adopted were characterized mainly by

the different contexts and by the proportion of time and emphasis they devoted to each type of

learning. The major difference among groups was in their learning from research and theory

which did not appear in the group of school teachers. Because of their work in academy, teacher

educators were engaged in research and inquired into their practice to a greater degree than the

other groups. Although the cooperating school established learning communities, the school

teachers did not yet consider inquiry as an integral part of their leadership and learning. Reasons

for this issue may be lack of time due to other priorities and demands of the school, lack of

knowledge of the research process or fear of taking risks and venturing out of their comfort zone.

However, teacher educators perceive this issue as one of the weaknesses of the program and

consider it an important role of their collaboration with schools to advance this significant area.

A Coterminous Collaborative Learning Model

One of the most important fruits of the leadership development described in this study was the

establishment of a coalition of leaders crossing borders at all levels of the educational system:

local school level, district level and teacher education level. These leaders were all involved in

coterminous collaborative learning: their learning was continuous; it took place at defined

regular intervals with defined groups as well as at every opportunity in between when members

of the various groups at every level met and mixed. This collaborative model involved the

exchange of information and new learning of all stakeholders while critically examining the

current educational system and changing it while doing. The continuous dialogue and

exploration established a common language of practitioners and policy makers, multi-directional

communication, coherent messages and deepened strategies. Their shared ownership and

commitment at all levels created an innovative kind of leadership in which team effort of

practical leading influenced policy level and reframed the educational environment at schools

(Leithwood & Jantzi, 2008).

The leaders met the challenges and needs faced by the educational system today by re-

defining their roles, transforming their conceptions and behavior as well as changing their

educational environments. Each leader and organization played a significant intra- and inter-



organizational role promoting the change process within the partnership. Their kinds of

leadership, each in their own organization, reinforce the notion of a current need to focus on

contextualizing the types of leadership strategies and practices (Hallinger, 2011). Members

represented their specific organizational culture and interests and all of them together built a

common identity and vision for the district.

Teacher educators played a crucial role not only in their own organization, but also in

schools and in the entire district: they shared responsibility for engaging teachers and students in

investigating and critiquing their practice and by leading a dialectical process between their

practice and educational theories. They modeled innovative teaching by meeting their learners'

needs and coping with the resistance these processes often entailed. They were involved in

induction programs and assisted in professional development programs in schools and with

superintendents by contributing their critical stance and theoretical knowledge. This involvement

of faculty members in schools and the district blurred the borders between organizations, and

transformed the traditional hierarchies into a more democratic culture. The superintendents also

had a key role in orchestrating all parties and elements, leading the district's vision and enabling

appropriate conditions for schools to change.

Conclusion: Holistic Approach

Coterminous collaborative learning in organizations is a necessary condition for generating

change in the educational environment; however it is not sufficient for a significant systemic

reform. For this to happen, a holistic approach to the educational environment should be adopted.

Continuous self-examination in relation to all other groups involved in the district has to be

carried out by teachers, teacher educators and superintendents. Interconnectedness between

leadership and learning and among the different parties in the district is seen as obligatory. A

significant change can be generated only if the systemic context, inside and outside of the

organization, changes (Fullan. 2005). The internal transformation of leaders in approach,

conceptions, beliefs and assumptions is interrelated with the external contextual change. Most of

the leaders have to take on responsibility for sustaining continuous learning in their organizations

in relation to other groups and to develop others as leaders.

Implications

In order to bridge the gap between theory and practice - schools and academy - and create new

cultures, the educational system should establish a cross-sector model of collaboration through

partnerships and networks with strong relationships between schools, teacher education

programs and district offices. Instead of demanding that practitioners implement the "top-down"

requirements of policy makers in the Ministry of Education, the recommendation is to build

professional learning communities comprised of leaders from all levels of the system and create

a common agenda that integrates "top-down" visions and "bottom up" agendas by a continuing

dialogue among all the stakeholders. The different cultures of schools, policy makers and teacher

education should be discussed and the tensions among them should be brought to the surface. A

professional sustainable discourse in communities of practice and networks is an opportunity to

foster collegiality and to increase involvement of researchers and policy makers in deepening

learning and teaching in schools. Each group would contribute its ideas, strengths and points of

view to coterminous collaborative professional learning and development.



The holistic approach, the different lenses of theory and practice, the opportunities for

collaboration in a democratic environment – all have the potential to change the system and to

focus on learning. Moreover, this holistic approach requires all partners to plan a learning

continuum from initial pre-service programs, to induction programs, to professional development

learning for veteran teachers and other practitioners, and to superintendents and administrators of

the district. A long term collective agenda and holistic perspective in problems solving is likely

to guarantee the radical change required for sustainable learning.

Further research is required that explores the conditions and constraints organizations

meet in order to build an infrastructure for creating partnerships in which communities of

practice thrive and afford a democratic discourse that represent the different points of view of all

stakeholders.



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Rocky Road or Clear Sailing? Recent Graduates’ Recollections and Reflections of the Doctoral Journey

Jonathan G. Bayley University of Windsor

Jason Brent Ellis Ashland University

Carla Reis Abreu-Ellis Ashland University

E. Kathleen O’Reilly First Nations University of Canada

Abstract

While a large group of students enroll in graduate studies in Canada every year, more than half

do not reach degree completion (Elgar, 2003; Baird, 1990). This article highlights recent

graduates’ experiences of their doctoral studies, including the dissertation process. A

questionnaire was applied to 15 institutions of higher education, representing all regions of

Canada. A total of 53 questionnaires were returned and analyzed. Findings indicated that

doctoral students found several challenges to program completion including funding,

interactions with faculty, and the writing of the dissertation. Participants also noted that the

Canadian Academy provided them with quality experiences, if not at times, rocky ones. An

overview is provided of structures and processes that supported and hindered students’ doctoral

studies as outlined by Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework of doctoral student identity

development.

Keywords: higher education; doctoral programs; identity; development

Jonathan G. Bayley, Ph.D. is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Education at the University of Windsor, where

he has served as Associate Dean of Graduate Studies, Research, and Continuing Education and Director of the

School of Music. Email: [email protected]

Jason Brent Ellis, Ph.D., is an Associate Professor of Educational Technologies in the Department of Curriculum

and Instruction in Ashland University’s Dwight Schar College of Education. Email: [email protected]

Carla Reis Abreu-Ellis, Ph.D., is an Associate Professor in the Department of Inclusive Services and Exceptional

Learners in Ashland University’s Dwight Schar College of Education. Email: [email protected]

E. Kathleen O’Reilly, Ph.D., is an Associate Professor of Indigenous Education at the First Nations University of

Canada. Email: [email protected]

Brock Education, Volume 21, No. 2, Spring 2012, pp. 88-102





Jonathon G. Bayley, Jason Brent Ellis, Carla Reis Abreu-Ellis, E. Kathleen O’Reilly Doctoral Journey


Perspective and Rationale

In any given year, “more than 100,000 students enroll in masters and doctoral programs at over

40 universities across Canada” (Elgar, 2003, p. 1). Approximately 50% of these students will not

graduate (Baird, 1990). While this may well be “one of academia’s well-kept secrets” (Golde,

2000, p. 199), the phenomenon is not a new one. Rates of non–completion have remained

consistent over the past 40 years (Lovitts, 1996); however, the growing demand for Ph.D.

(Doctor of Philosophy) graduates in both the academic and private sectors of the labor force has

caused concern with regard to the program completion rate of students.

The purpose of this article was to highlight recent graduates’ first–hand experiences of

their doctoral studies, including the writing and completing of their dissertations. Based on the

anecdotal responses of participants, an analysis of the factors that supported doctoral students’

endeavors, as well as the factors that hindered their progression toward completion were

categorized based on Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework, A Model of Doctoral Student

Development: Identity Development. Thus, Gardner’s framework was utilized to observe whether

Canadian doctoral students had similar experiences as their American counterparts, as well as, to

identify possible discrepancies in Gardner’s model of identity development of doctoral students.

Review of the Literature

A review of the literature revealed that there have been increased efforts over the past few years

to dissect the doctoral experience (Lyons & Doueck, 2010; Rudestam, 2001); however, much of

the research has focused on particular aspects of the doctoral journey (Belcher & Hirvele, 2005;

Johnson & Conyers, 2001). While some research articles have dealt with individual

recollections, (Cole, 1994), the majority of the literature (Bair & Haworth, 1999; Brause, 2000;

Magner, 1999; Mauch & Birch, 1998; Young, 2001) focused on student retention (Green, 1997)

and/or the writing of the dissertation (Baird, 1997; Liechty, Liao, & Schull, 2009), with specific

emphases on the mechanics of writing and guidelines for successful completion.

Astin (1987) proposed that students who become involved during college years have a

greater chance of being retained and to complete their college degree. According to Astin (1987)

"students learn by becoming involved" (p. 133). Student involvement theories focus on

interaction with peers and faculty in both academic and non-academic settings. Research results

show that positive student involvement contributes to the development of college students

(Astin, 1993; Pascarella & Terenzini, 2005). Even though most of the research on college student

development has focused on undergraduate students, as opposed to graduate students, the model

still applies as many doctoral programs have moved to a cohort system to facilitate peer

interaction and put in place formal and informal social activities to enhance faculty/student

interactions (Gardner, 2009). Gardner (2009) noted that "faculty and student interactions. . . is

therefore greatly beneficial not only to students' sense of belonging in the department but also to

their future socialization and success" (p. 58). The most important theme in the research

literature related to the current study was the socialization of doctoral students, particularly the

idea of challenges and supports as being necessary conditions for student development (Gardner,

2009), leading to the successful completion of their studies.

Doctoral students characteristics are typically a diverse group which include "women,

students of color, older students, students with children and part-time students" and these

"differences play a part in the students' overall satisfaction and integration into their programs"



(Gardner, 2008, p. 130). Sweitzer (2009) found that doctoral programs fail to acknowledge the

diverse needs of doctoral students and to recognize that due to their diverse characteristics they

hold other responsibilities beyond their academic pursuits. Further, West, Gokalp, Peñha,

Fischer, and Gupton (2011) found that doctoral students face challenges during their program of

study that may include lack of time management skills and the inability to develop a positive

relationship with their advisors. Students require a support system that helps them work through

challenges to complete their degrees successfully (Gardner, 2009).

Advising is an important factor that may influence student retention and graduation at the

doctoral level. Barnes and Austin (2009) found that "effective advising is complex rather than

formulaic" (p. 311). They noted, "it involves attention both to the research development of

students as well as to their overall development of professionals. Additionally . . . exemplary

advising includes both intellectual diminution and an affective dimension focused on caring,

support and friendliness" (p. 311). To conclude, it is of utmost importance to consider the

research findings in the area of college student development and to create programs that provide

doctoral students with support systems to assist them through doctoral work. Programs must

also challenge their students in order to enhance their professional and personal growth as

suggested by Gardner's (2009) model of challenge and support.

Theoretical Framework

Based on qualitative studies performed with 177 doctoral students in the United States of

America, Gardner (2009) proposed a conceptual framework for doctoral student identity

development, which is grounded in the idea of growth through challenges and the provision of

support. She proposed three phases of the doctoral journey of development; the entry,

integration, and candidacy phases. Challenges include such items as admission to the program

(entry), coursework and qualifying examinations (integration), and dissertation and the transition

to the new professional role as scholar (candidacy). What permeates in Gardner’s (2009)

discussion of support is the emphasis on how program and institutional scaffolds may be used as

supports to face challenges on the rocky road toward program completion. Gardner (2009)

observed “new doctoral students have several sources of support, including the fellow students

they will meet during orientation, the faculty with whom they will connect and have in their

initial courses, and the staff who provide support and direction” (p. 10) at the entry level. She

further noted that by the nature of most doctoral programs, students must form deeper

relationships with both peers and faculty at the integration level and that there lies a danger in the

fact that during the candidacy phase, “support students have had in the past, whether through

close peer relationships in coursework or daily interaction with faculty, may disappear,

intensifying these challenges” (p. 10). There is a sense of isolation to the end game; a loosening

of scholarly social ties that enable the person to complete the final work of the dissertation and

pursue his or her own path.

Method

This research study aimed to capture what Lincoln and Guba (1985) refer to as “an inside

perspective (subjective)” (p. 27) of doctoral graduates’ experiences; thus, providing the

participants with the opportunity to reflect upon, and document their personal experiences. This

research employed a questionnaire comprised primarily of open–ended questions that generated



anecdotal responses, rather than restricting participants to only categorical response items. More

specifically, the questionnaire included nine demographic questions, four categorical questions

(gender, degree completed, financial support, and whether they considered exiting the program),

and 21 open-ended questions that aimed to provide a snapshot of the participants’ experiences

before, during, and after program completion.

Potential participants had either received doctoral degrees from a Canadian Faculty of

Education, and/or were currently employed in a Canadian Faculty of Education and who had

completed their doctoral work within the last five years. In order to contact potential participants

a letter was written to Deans of Education at Canadian universities, requesting that they act as

gatekeepers for disseminating the questionnaire.

A content analysis, a process of qualitative analysis, was performed on the open-ended

responses to identify common themes. Patton (1990) defined content analysis as “the process of

identifying, coding, and categorizing the primary patterns in the data” (p. 381). In this manner, a

textual analysis was performed on the responses by employing an “interpretive means of

analyzing data” (Schwandt, 2001, p. 34). The emergent themes are discussed in the context of

Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework of doctoral student identity development.

Results

A total of fifty-three completed questionnaires were received from 15 universities, representing

all regions of Canada. Thirty-five participants were women, 16 were men, and two did not

identify their gender. The range of participants’ time–to–completion for their doctoral programs

was eight years (2–10 years), averaging 4.8 years, with the majority completing their degrees

within three to five years. The doctoral degrees earned by the participants in the study included

49 Doctorates of Philosophy (Ph.D.) and four Doctorates of Education (Ed.D.).

Gardner’s (2009) model of doctoral student identity development is divided into three

phases; entry, integration, and candidacy. The model encompasses programmatic and

developmental experiences, thus speaking to both personal and professional aspects of

development. Participants’ perceptions of their personal and professional development during

their doctoral journeys were analyzed and presented based on Gardner’s phases of identity

development.

Phase I: Entry

Phase I of Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework for doctoral student identity development

includes “the time leading up to and continuing through the first year of the doctoral program”

(p. 41). Further, the first phase includes “admission, orientation, coursework, initial relationships

with peers and faculty, changes in how the student thinks and understands knowledge, the

transition from undergraduate to graduate school expectations, and the departure of students that

results from the lack of support during these challenges” (p. 42). In this sense, the transition itself

leads to development in that “transitions are in and of themselves developmental . . . in which

individuals begin to understand themselves and the world around them differently in relation to

the context and outcome of the transition” (Gardner, 2009, p. 43). Similarly, participants in this

study explained the challenges they faced when making the initial transition in choosing where to

pursue graduate work.



Deciding on where to transition: Choosing a graduate school.

In a number of instances, participants noted that they employed a variety of research strategies,

including Internet searches, reference books, career counseling centers, discussions with (former

and current) graduate students, and visiting professors and faculty in order to help them select the

program and institution of higher education that best served their needs. Some selected a

graduate school based on the perceived reputation of a particular institution, program, and/or

faculty member. As one participant explained:

I identified a number of schools that seemed to offer the sort of program I was looking

for. . . I did this by talking to faculty members I knew in [my] area, and by finding out

where various researchers worked. Once, I had a short list of schools, I sent out

applications and then visited the schools that appeared interested in my application.

(S35, p. 42)

Preferred cities as places to live also played a role in the selection of graduate schools. “I

wanted to go to a university with deep historical roots . . . roots embedded in tradition. I also

wanted to live in [that city] to experience its multicultural ambiance” (S41, p. 43). Another

individual stated that “geographic location and potential quality of living. . . . the aesthetic appeal

of a city. . . . a chance to live in a city I would not normally have a chance to live in” ( S42, p.

43) were deciding factors.

Many participants, however, chose graduate schools for pragmatic reasons, such as

access to funding and/or proximity to where they were already living and working. Several

noted that moving away and giving up their current employment would cause undue hardship.

Attending university in another city would have been out of the question.

The support of a mentor and/or advisor also figured prominently in many of the

responses, as several participants, as Master’s level students, had been encouraged to continue

with their studies. Other decisions, however, were more spontaneous. In one case, a recruitment

notice with “looking for students” and a professor’s phone number displayed on a staff–room

bulletin board provided sufficient impetus for a participant to investigate further.

Learning balance. Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework suggests “many students talk about

the need to find balance among academic responsibilities, work duties, and personal

relationships” (p. 48). Although Gardner does not explicitly note that doctoral students struggle

with financing their doctoral programs, participants alluded to the need of finding balance and at

times the changing role from breadwinner to dependent.

Categorical data resulting from this study showed that financing the doctoral journey was

a challenge and often times a juggling act for the participants. Twenty–five percent of the

participants received financial support from their spouses or partners. The same number

received financial help from their families. More than 40% of participants used personal

savings, investments and Registered Retirement Savings Plans (RRSP) to help finance their

degrees. Twenty percent obtained student loans.

Over 60% of participants received funding in the forms of research assistantships,

awards, bursaries, grants and/or scholarships during their tenure as doctoral students. Nearly half

of the participants worked full–time during at least part of their doctoral work. Of those

participants who indicated that they had worked “part–time,” several reported that the



cumulative effect of their part–time activities often equaled or exceeded full–time employment.

Only three individuals indicated that they had received paid sabbatical leave to pursue a terminal

degree.

Slightly less than a third of participants indicated that they were unhappy with the level

of financial support they had received. As one participant stated “‘We support life–long

learning,’ but we don’t pay for it” (S18, p. 60). Even those who received significant funding

expressed concerns:

The level of funding is appalling. The financial hardship and sacrifice to do this work is

extreme. The living conditions are humiliating. You are vulnerable and exploited at

every turn. I worked extremely hard and I was prepared to work and make sacrifices to

achieve this dream, but I would never advise anyone else to go through what I went

through. And I was one of the lucky ones who obtained support. (S34, p. 61)

Participants expressed concern with accessing grant information and available supports, as well

as the considerable amount of time (and in some cases, expertise needed) to apply for grants

and/or scholarships.

Phase II: Integration

Within Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework, Phase II is comprised of challenges such as

“establishing competency in subject matter through coursework, deepening peer relationships,

establishing a relationship with an advisor, preparing for examinations, changing role from

student to professional, departing the program as a result of a lack of support” (p. 62). Further,

during this phase doctoral students become producers of knowledge rather than consumers, as

well as, proving their knowledge of program competencies through qualifying examinations

(Gardner, 2009).

Challenges and supports. Participants noted challenges related to accessibility and levels of

funding; program rigidity and bureaucracy; excessive red tape; faculty politics, unsatisfactory

interactions with faculty, including advisors and committee members; limited course offerings;

and ambiguous, unclear, and/or inflexible program expectations. Compounding these external

challenges, participants also identified a number of personal concerns that exacerbated their

frustration. Individuals spoke about the isolation, time constraints, challenges in finding quality

writing time, financial burdens, lack of balance in their lives, difficulty in maintaining

motivation, worries relating to post-graduate employment, and, in some cases, long commutes to

attend classes and/or perform research.

Gardner’s (2009) framework is a dynamic system in which the doctoral student can move

forward and regress between phases. As such, several participants acknowledged that they had

experienced feelings of self–doubt, and a general lack of confidence seeing themselves as being

“good enough” or competent enough to “do” the academic work. Some worried about their

research in terms of its potential value to the profession to “make some sort of contribution.”

Others found that it was difficult to meet their “own expectations” admitting that they were often

unduly hard on themselves. Another stated that maintaining a positive attitude, “in the face of

repeated disappointments” (S16, p. 71) was a constant challenge, as was working and coping



with extensive data, and “figuring out how to write the dissertation” (S7, p. 71). Some

participants found the comprehensive and/or candidacy exams intimidating and anxiety inducing.

Participants noted that they benefited from the challenges experienced through academic

tasks, but also were enabled through peer support. Being immersed in an academic environment

and belonging to a “community of learners” were considered an enriching experience.

Moreover, opportunities to interact and collaborate with a cohort of international students and

like–minded intellectuals, to participate at conferences, and to teach and work at the university

level were all cited as especially rewarding. Participants valued many facets of the overall

process, such as attending classes, reading widely in their areas of interest, pursuing their own

interests, engaging in research, discussing and debating challenging issues, wrestling with new

ideas, and working with interesting professors, fellow students, and research participants. Many

welcomed the change of pace and the chance to be “immersed in intellectual pursuits” and “self–

guided inquiry.”

Incongruent with Gardner’s (2009) model, in terms of peers being a source of support,

was the fact that the competitive nature of graduate school came as a surprise to some

participants. As one stated, “I didn’t realize it was so competitive. I hated that aspect of graduate

school. Students were cut–throat probably because funds were so tight. They were not there to

learn, but to succeed and win. That part was terrible” (S34, p. 73). In this sense peers become

part of the challenge associated with graduate studies in that they compete for the same limited

resources such as funding.

Phase III: Candidacy

According to Gardner (2009), phase III “is the time during which the doctoral candidate begins

to produce original research in the form of the dissertation” (p. 77). In this phase the candidates

are faced with the challenge and autonomy of writing the dissertation and often shed their

previous social ties with peers and faculty in order to complete the work (Gardner, 2009).

Challenges and supports. Several participants reported that they had problematic experiences

with their advisors and/or committee members, particularly in relation to the time it took to

receive feedback about their work, and the need to “satisfy all team members who had various

backgrounds and points of view” (S6, p. 71). It appeared to some that the “the various processes

of the doctoral program were not well understood by most of the faculty personnel” (S7, p. 67).

Furthermore, there were concerns that committee members were not well prepared. As one

participant stated, “My committee members did not appear to understand the type of research I

was doing. Often they did not attend committee meetings or read what I had given them to

review. Thus, they could not discuss it knowledgeably” (S45, p. 69). There were several

admissions and some acknowledgment that “committee members were overworked [and were]

too busy to read and respond to drafts” (S12, p. 67).

Other participants were troubled by what could best be described as “institutional

politics” what participants referred to as the “lack of community amongst faculty” and the

associated difficulties “negotiating personalities and dynamics among professors and students”

(S34, p. 69). The sense of isolation in carrying out the dissertation was also mentioned as one of

the more significant barriers to overcome.

Balancing family, work and academic responsibilities were cited as significant challenges

to overcome. One participant noted, “Getting up at 4:30 in the morning for several years was the



only way to keep up” (S13, p. 71). Another stated, “Because I did a lot of teaching, I didn’t have

the uninterrupted periods of time I needed to think about my data analysis. . . as such, it took a

very long time to get this piece of the dissertation completed” (S35, p. 69). The challenge to

finish the program in a timely fashion was present in the participants’ responses as noted “I think

that working part–time whilst holding down a full–time job is always frustrating. Getting the

thing finished, in the end, is a burden” (S36, p. 69).

Notable was the stress put on relationships between partners; “My husband always

wanted to support me and my work but I think that he considered it to be of little ultimate value

and I know that sometimes he despaired of my finishing” (S7, p. 126). Even when both partners

were pursuing academic courses, strain was evident: “My spouse and I went through together.

Even so, we barely held the marriage together,” and “My husband and I began our Ph.D.’s

together. We understood each other’s stresses and needs, but we often competed with each other

when we had common assignments, etc.” (S17, p. 127). Two participants in this study noted that

they divorced their partner during the course of their doctoral studies.

Time and attention seemed to be the largest factors in the changing relationships.

“Through neglect, I lost most of my friends” (S17, p. 127). As one participant aptly noted “my

mind was often preoccupied and my time was measured instead of being freely given” (S19, p.

127). Others noted that “There were times I was stressed and unavailable to the important

people in my life” (S23, p. 127) or “at times, I became selfish (especially during the writing

phase) and forgot about my family (near and extended) relationships” (S43, p. 129), and “I

withdrew to get the work done. I had to make a conscious effort to reach out. All of my

relationships suffered” (S34, p. 128).

The writing of the dissertation seemed to be the largest observed culprit, which consumed

time and attention of participants. In fact, one participant referred to it as a “beast” for such

reasons. Another participant offered the following observation in this regard:

For a lot of years I didn’t spend much time with my friends, and spent less time with my

family than I would have liked. It’s hard to agree to do anything social when you know

that you have to go home and keep writing the dissertation. Until it’s finished, it’s very

difficult to abandon it. It’s a burden that’s constantly with you, and it takes a while to

disappear even after the dissertation is handed in. (S35, p. 128)

While there was general consensus that the process was often an anxiety inducing

challenge, there was acknowledgment that dissertation writing was, at times, both stimulating

and invigorating. Several participants spoke about the personal nature and professional

development of writing the dissertation. One considered it: “a very personal journey. I learned

just as much about myself as I did about my research topic. However, I didn’t realize how much

until I began to supervise other grad students within months of completing my own doctorate”

(S38, p. 138).

Participants found the dissertation process far more demanding and time consuming than

what they had originally anticipated. As one participant explained, “It took much longer than

planned, but was satisfying in that I remained curious about the topic and committed to its value”

(S16, p. 108). There were frustrations expressed concerning timelines, as well as anxiety about

the monumental size of the undertaking. “Even though I love writing and all the processes of

writing, the writing of my dissertation was painful. It was a huge job. I felt that I was inventing

it all [the process] by myself” (S7, p. 104).



The support and encouragement of advisors, faculty, family, partners/spouses, therapists,

and friends were identified as important factors in completing the doctoral journey. An adequate

level of funding was also mentioned as a key indicator for successful completion, as was

sufficient time to focus on the task at hand – in other words – the luxury of “uninterrupted time

to write solidly for three months” (S9, p. 80).

According to participants, the advisor played a prominent role in the doctoral journey.

When describing the qualities of a good advisor, participants’ responses emphasized both

personal and professional characteristics. Professional characteristics included sound knowledge

of the field, academic expertise, and current research experience. Participants also stressed the

importance of an advisor who would help them procure funding (e.g., teaching assistantships,

scholarships and/or grants); assist students with the publishing process; promote and foster

academic opportunities (e.g., attending and presenting at conferences); and being thoroughly

versed in the mechanics and procedures of the graduate program.

In terms of the more inter-personal characteristics, participants believed that the advisor

needed to be, first and foremost, a mentor and genuinely interested in the student’s research,

interested in the student as a person, engaged in the process, a good listener, supportive, and

encouraging. He or she would also have time to meet with the student, as well as provide timely

feedback about the student’s work. The good advisor would also have a sense of humor and be

empathetic, personable, and respectful, as well as provide leadership without being stifling or

imposing. Moreover, he or she would be “intellectually vigorous and challenging” (S2, p. 85)

and in the words of one participant, know when to “push and when to back off” (S3, p. 85).

Participants identified their personality and will power as personal characteristics that

helped them complete their studies as they noted “It was my own determination to complete

something I had begun” (S45, p. 83), “my own ‘striving’ nature” (S13, p. 80), “tenacity” (S17,

p. 81), and “burning desire to know” (S12, p. 36). They also noted that “having a clear vision

about my research and the contribution it would make” (S30, p. 82) and having set goals for the

future helped them to get through the dissertation process.

The Contemplation of Program Departure

Gardner’s (2009) conceptual framework notes that students can depart from their doctoral

program at any time during the three developmental phases. While all of the participants in this

study were successful in completing their doctoral studies, 24 out of 51 participants who

responded to this question on the questionnaire acknowledged that at some stage they

contemplated not finishing. In aligning the data to Gardner’s (2009) model, results from this

study indicated that of the 24 students who considered withdrawing from their programs; two of

the participants considered exiting their programs sporadically during the three phases; four of

the participants considered exiting in phase I (entry); five in phase II (integration); and thirteen

participants in phase III (candidacy).

Participants’ responses indicated the reasons for considering withdrawal from their

programs, included issues related to:

health (their own or a loved one’s)

feelings of insecurity such as the notion that one was not “good or smart enough,”

frustration about the length of time and seemingly never–ending process

loss of a sense of purpose



feeling fed up with the process

loss of ownership of the dissertation

feelings of isolation and lack of support from the university

lack of connectedness with faculty

tensions with advisors and/or committees

financial hardships

lack of time to devote to studies because of family and/or work responsibilities.

Participants were most likely to consider departing from their doctoral studies when they

felt overwhelmed by the process. For instance, “lengthy, unproductive periods of data analyses”

(S35, p. 78), the writing of the dissertation, and the ongoing commitment and length of time

required for completion were particularly negative catalysts. “It seemed like I’d be working on

the dissertation forever and I couldn’t see an end to it” (S35, p. 78). Another participant stated,

“the completion point kept moving ahead, eluding my grasp” (S16, p. 76).

Several strategies helped the participants in this study to hang in and finish their

programs. Encouragement from advisors and/or committee members; supportive partners,

spouses, family members and fellow graduate students; reminding themselves that the degree

would lead to improved career opportunities and personal development; and even therapy were

identified as significant factors. Fear of failure, pride, the need to stay employed, a realization of

the large amounts of money and time already invested in the process were also powerful

motivators in deciding to complete the degree.

Implications

Findings indicated that for doctoral students in the Canadian academy a good academic climate

is one that is synonymous with engagement between peers and faculty toward the creation of a

community of learners. This notion falls in clear lines with Astin’s (1993) discussion on peer

groups and student development in that “the student’s peer group is the single most potent source

of influence on growth and development” (p. 398). Similarly, Astin (1993) observed, “next to

peer group, the faculty represents the most significant aspects of the student’s undergraduate

development” (p. 410). Of course, Astin was discussing the undergraduate years when making

these observations, but perhaps the same holds true of graduate studies; or at least graduate

students have been conditioned to feel that way during the course of their first four years of

higher education. Results of this study noted several participants discussing feelings of isolation.

This would denote then that doctoral programs should look at working toward more peer and

faculty engagement to quash feelings of isolation by integrating into a community of learners

who can support each other through the doctoral journey.

According to the participants in this study, institutions making up the Canadian academy

should establish institutional climates where students feel that they have the freedom to pursue

their own areas of interest and research. Doctoral students grieve at the loss of ownership of the

dissertation and loss of purpose on the rocky road to completion. Perhaps this springs from the

dissertation writing process and trying to meet the needs of a diverse committee with perhaps

conflicting philosophies. For institutions that consistently observe high levels of attrition of their

doctoral students, this may be indicative of problems “in a department, university, or discipline.

Those factors that spur attrition in some students may also inflict damage on those who persist”

(Golde, 2005, p. 670). Golde (2005) observed that:



By closely examining the impact of departmental practices and by changing those that do

not serve the educational interests of students, departments committed to making

improvements would find not only that attrition was reduced but also that the experiences

of all students would be enhanced. (p. 696)

The advisor was seen as a catalyst to finishing one’s doctoral studies. As Pole and

Sprokkereef (1997) observed, doctoral supervisors are often the “principal link between the

individual, the department and the institution,” (p. 64) and thus:

The supervisor's capacity not only to furnish the student with the required information,

but also to provide the route by which the student may become integrated with the

institution may be crucial for the progress of the doctorate. (p. 64)

Although guidelines for doctoral supervision exist in several forms, they fail to “cover the range

of activities and tasks that supervisors appear to engage in during the course of their involvement

with Ph.D. students” (Pole & Sprokkereef, 1997, p. 49). Participants painted a clear picture of

their expectations of what a good advisor should embody, but some noted being constrained by

an abusive advisor or those that made decisions without consulting the student. Findings from

this research follow the same results of Pole and Sprokkereef (1997) in that doctoral students

hold the core expectation that their advisors will be essential in creating a “productive

environment in order to progress the research” (p. 64). Most participants acknowledged that

while taking on a task of this magnitude was not for the faint of heart, and certainly fraught with

its share of academic and even psychological challenges, the process of pursuing doctoral studies

was, in the end, a worthwhile and largely satisfying, endeavor.

The model that Gardner has derived from the experience of American doctoral students

seems to be highly represented in the experiences of the Canadian doctoral students surveyed in

this research. Indeed, Gardner’s three phases seem well represented in Canadian students’

experiences brought forth here in the form of challenges and supports. The findings of the

current study do imply that there may be more to add to the model based on two key issues that

have arisen; financing the doctoral degree and its implications on role change and identity

formation; and peers not only being seen as supports in the doctoral journey, but also as a

challenge in the form of direct competition.

Since all three phases of Gardner’s (2009) model include the possibility of program

departure it would seem relevant to discuss the financing of the student’s programs as a possible

attrition factor as either a challenge or form of support. In the current study alone, 25% of

participants noted being supported financially through their programs by a partner or spouse and

25% by parents or other family members. This may have a profound effect on identity

development. Research has been done with young adults, particularly traditional undergraduate

students that discuss the converse of this; that is, that individuals see themselves as transitioning

to adulthood when they achieve financial independence from their parents and this is a step in

identity formation (Settersten, 2006). Also, Arnett (1998) observed that “the criteria most

important to young Americans as markers of adulthood are those that represent becoming

independent from others (especially from parents)” and principally “accepting responsibilities for

one’s self, making independent decisions, and financial independence” (p. 296). So the question

then arises as to what effect transitioning to financial dependency has on adult identity

development?



Another issue in Gardner’s (2009) framework that is somewhat allusive is the question of

peers as support or as a challenge. While it is understood from the model that failure to form a

supportive peer network can be a factor that lends to program attrition, or as Gardner terms it,

“departure,” what happens when the peer group actively competes for grades, faculty attention,

or resources like assistantships or other means of funding and financial support? Similarly, since

family seems to be a primary means of financial support for the doctoral journey, perhaps they

also serve as other means of support. Participants talked about family members supporting them

by taking on more responsibilities that enabled them to complete the doctoral journey and also

discussed family as a means of moral support that urged them to continue when considering

withdrawal from their programs. As such, perhaps academic peers are not the only or primary

means of support for adult learners. Much like Schlossberg, Waters, and Goodman (1995) have

discussed in their transitional model, perhaps a wider definition of support could be useful in

Gardner’s conceptual framework to include support from intimate relationships, family units,

networks of friends (which would include academic peers), and institutions (which would

include faculty and advisors).



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http://www.transad.pop.upenn.edu/

BOOK REVIEW

Title: The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves

Author: Matt Ridley

Publisher: New York: HarperCollins

Year of publication: 2010

Reviewed by: Mihai B. Sarbu, M.Sc., M.Ed.(c)

Matt Ridley argues in The Rational Optimist that “there is no reason we cannot solve the

problems that beset us, of economic crashes, population explosions, climate change and

terrorism, of poverty, AIDS, depression and obesity” (pp. 7–8). In his view, if we want to deal

successfully with these challenges, all we need to do is to encourage specialization, to promote

the exchange of goods and ideas, to develop modern technologies, and to eliminate bureaucratic

red tape. Ridley also claims he is a “rational optimist” and has “arrived at optimism not through

temperament or instinct, but by looking at the evidence” (p. 10).

Most of Ridley’s ideas are not new; they are quite similar to the arguments advanced by

the “Hard Greens” more than a decade ago:

The outside world imposes no limits to growth on a society that unleashes the real kind of

efficiency, economic efficiency. Resources don’t limit growth; markets find or create

new ones. Pollution need not limit growth; turn pollution into property, and capitalists

will package pollution and transform it into wealth. . . . On all sides, free markets create

abundance. Efficiency—the real kind, discovered by markets, not bureaucrats—creates

still more abundance. Complexity creates efficiency, which creates still more abundance.

(Huber, 1999, pp. 146–147)

Ridley subscribes to all these tenets and adds a few more: that human intelligence was by

and large brought into existence and developed by exchange and specialization, which are

considered the most important aspects of our civilization; and that the steady (albeit erratic)

growth we have experienced since the beginning of human civilization proves and guarantees

that growth will continue.

While specialization and exchange are rightly seen by Ridley as important characteristics

of the capitalist system, in which everyone works for everyone else, his argument is not

convincing. Homer-Dixon (2009) has presented evidence substantiating that, on the contrary,

what made the human brain and consequently the human civilization so powerful was the

development of “generalist [italics added] strategies for survival,” which allowed humans “to

thrive in a wider range of conditions” (p. 199).

I also believe that our focus on specialization, exchange, and continued progress are

major contributing factors to our current crises. Ridley himself admits that the rich (and probably

many of us in living in the West) “do lots of unnecessary damage to the planet as they go on

Brock Education, Vol. 21, No2, Spring 2012, 103-106 104

striving to get richer long after the point where it is having much effect on their happiness” (p.

27).

Hardly anybody denies that science has opened the way to enormous improvements in

our quality of life. It is however questionable and risky to consider the capacities of science

limitless or to disregard credible scientific evidence. For example, Ridley presents arguments in

favour of some aspects of modern food production, such as the factory-style production of meat.

I found Ridley’s arguments on this matter very questionable—as he disregards the dangers posed

by the extensive use of hormones and antibiotics in such operations. Other examples of

presenting carefully selected evidence can be found in Ridley’s rendering of the “beneficial”

aspects of big-box retailing or in the fact that he strongly supports genetic engineering, without

considering its risks.

While being selective on matters such as these, Ridley is consistent in his unsuccessful

attempts to discredit well-known scientists, such as Rachel Carson, Theo Colborn, Martin Rees,

and several others, who have tried to alert the public that the current path taken by our

civilization is putting nature—and us—in danger. A similar determination can be seen in

Ridley’s efforts of minimizing or discrediting the seriousness of the climate change crisis.

On the one hand, he plays down (as many climate change deniers do) the risks of climate

change by pointing to the very large range of possible temperature increases advanced by the

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, from 1.1ºC to 6ºC (p. 330). On the other hand,

Ridley ‘cherry-picks’ the evidence regarding the costs of mitigating climate change:

As for what might happen after 2100, in 2006 the British government appointed a civil

servant, Nicholas Stern, to count the potential cost of extreme climate change far into the

future. He came up with the answer that the cost was so high, that almost any price to

mitigate it now would be worth paying. (Ridley, p. 330)

Ridley’s statements are extremely biased. The extensive studies presented by Stern are

not only mentioning “the potential cost of extreme climate change far into the future [italics

added]”, but they focus mostly on how much it would cost us if we decide to mitigate climate

change now (which we should, but probably will not do). The costs advanced by Stern (2009) are

the following: “Achieving 500 ppm[e]1 might cost 2% of the world GDP per annum over the

next half-century, while 550 ppm[e] would cost around 1%” (p. 48). These costs are far lower

than the extremely high ones that Ridley is hinting at. Just as a side note, portraying Stern as a

“civil servant” is unfair and displays yet again Ridley’s tendency to handle evidence in whatever

way it is advantageous to him (this is probably an attempt to diminish Stern’s status and at the

same time point to the “bureaucratic red tape”). Stern, a distinguished academic economist who

taught at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was chief economist of the European Bank

of Reconstruction and Development from 1994 to 1999 and chief economist and senior vice-

president of the World Bank from 2000 to 2003.

It would be hard to think that Ridley’s bias regarding climate change could go any

further, but it does. His final arguments on this issue, presented at the end of a section entitled

Warmer and richer or cooler and poorer? (p. 333) state that “glasshouses often use air enriched

in carbon dioxide to 1,000 ppm to enhance plant growth rates” (p. 337) and that “under the

1. The concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere is measured in parts per million (ppm). However, CO2 is not

the only greenhouse gas; using parts per million equivalent—ppm[e]—ensures the influence of other greenhouse

gases, such as methane (CH4), nitrous oxide (N2O), and chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), is taken into account.


warmest [italics added] scenario, much land could revert to wilderness, leaving only 5 per cent of

the world under the plough in 2100, compared with 11.6 per cent today, allowing more space for

wilderness” (p. 338).

The Nongovernmental International Panel on Climate Change, probably the most vocal

group of climate change deniers, has argued along very similar lines: They have said that “a

warmer world will be a safer and healthier world for humans and wildlife alike,” and that “the

net effect of continued warming and rising carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere will

be beneficial to humans, plants, and wildlife” (Idso & Singer, 2009, p. III).

One question Ridley asks rhetorically in his book, citing Babington Macaulay, is the

following: “On what principle is it, that when we see nothing but improvement behind us, we are

to expect nothing but deterioration before us?” (p. 11). This question resonates deeply

throughout Ridley’s work, and his arguments imply that, actually, there is no such principle. The

overarching message of Ridley’s book would then be to leave all worries behind, engage in

specialization and exchange, and hope that everything will fall into place, as it has happened so

many times in the past. If my understanding is correct, then I find the book very simplistic. It is

true that today many people have achieved a standard of living unimaginable only a few decades

ago; according to Ridley today we have “more peace, freedom, leisure time, education, medicine,

travel, movies, mobile phones and massages [sic] than any generation in history” (p. 291).

However these achievements are highly dependent on fossil fuels and are distributed around the

planet in a highly inequitable manner.

Seeing nothing but improvement before us (because, as Ridley implies, it would be

illogical to see deterioration) could lead us to commit a serious fallacy. Ridley presents many

examples to substantiate that “new equals good”; however, this fallacy does not refer only to the

particular situations presented, but goes deeper, at a conceptual level. Considering that anything

new is an improvement over the old raises the possibility “to dispense with ethical

considerations” (Russell, 1946/2005, p. 711). I see this as a theoretical flaw that undermines

much of Ridley’s staunch belief in the inevitability of progress.

Ridley’s approach has been fairly assessed “as irrational optimism—a blind belief that

what has worked before will always work, regardless of a changing environment, whether

financial or planetary” (Pearce, 2010, para. 1). Moreover, it has been argued convincingly that

many of our decisions, big and small, are “predictably irrational” (Ariely, 2008, p. 6); from a

scientific point of view Ridley’s belief in rationality can probably be substantiated just as little as

his belief in unrelenting progress.

In the last sentences of his book, Ridley states that “the twenty-first century will be a

magnificent time to be alive” (p. 359) and exhorts his readers to dare to be optimists. The first 11

years of this century have been, there is little doubt, far from magnificent, and this can change

only if we are highly successful in dealing with our many and serious challenges. I cannot be the

type of optimist advocated by Ridley because concentrating all our efforts into specializing and

exchanging goods and ideas, with the hope that everything else will be fine, is an approach that I

find—not rational—but reckless.

I see this book as an unimaginative act of hope.


References

Ariely, D. (2008). Predictably irrational: The hidden forces that shape our decisions. New York:

HarperCollins.

Homer-Dixon, T. (2001). The ingenuity gap: Can we solve the problems of the future? Toronto,

ON: Vintage Canada.

Huber, P. (1999). Hard green: Saving the environment from the environmentalists. A

conservative manifesto. New York: Basic Books.

Idso, C., & Singer, S. F. (2009). Climate change reconsidered: 2009 report of the

Nongovernmental Panel on Climate Change (NIPCC). Chicago: The Heartland Institute.

Pearce, F. (2010). The rational optimist, by Matt Ridley. Pandora’s seed, by Spencer Wells

[Review of the book The rational optimist: How prosperity evolves]. Retrieved August

31, 2011 from http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/reviews/the-

rational-optimist-by-matt-ridleybrpandoras-seed-by-spencer-wells-1996793.html

Russell, B. (2005). History of western philosophy. New York: Routledge Classics. (Original

work published 1946).

Stern, N. (2009). The global deal: Climate change and the creation of a new era of progress and

prosperity. New York: PublicAffairs.

Experiences That Lead to Growth for Educators and Learners

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