Leadership and Professional Development in Science Education: New Possibilities for Enhancing Teacher Learning

Leadership and Professional Development in Science Education

Leadership and Professional Development in Science Education provides invaluable insight into the role of science teachers as learners and leaders of change processes. The fourteen chapters, by an eminent international team of science educators, explain and explore the relationship between professional development, teacher leadership and teacher learning. Research-based practical and theoretical exemplars reflect state-of-the-art science teacher leadership in a broad range of international contexts. The book is divided into three parts, reflecting a multi-layered approach to teacher learning: • • •

personal initiatives in teacher learning, focusing on individual teachers; collegial initiatives in teacher learning, focusing on groups of teachers; systemic initiatives for teacher learning, focusing on system-wide issues.

Student teachers and practising teachers will find the text extremely valuable as they consider and review the challenges of teaching practice and ways of working with colleagues, while school leaders and policy-makers will benefit from the book’s insight into system-wide issues of professional development. John Wallace is Professor of Science Education at the Science and Mathematics Education Centre at Curtin University of Technology, Perth, Australia. His most recent book, co-edited with William Louden, is Dilemmas of Science Teaching: Perspectives on Problems of Practice (2002), also published by RoutledgeFalmer. John Loughran is Director of Higher Degrees by Research in the Faculty of Education at Monash University, Australia. His most recent book, co-edited with Tom Russell, is Improving Teacher Education Practices Through Self-Study (2002), also published by RoutledgeFalmer.

Leadership and Professional Development in Science Education

New possibilities for enhancing teacher learning

Edited by John Wallace and John Loughran

First published 2003 by RoutledgeFalmer 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by RoutledgeFalmer 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2003. RoutledgeFalmer is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group © 2003 Edited by John Wallace and John Loughran All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data A catalog record has been requested ISBN 0-203-44786-7 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-34100-7 (Adobe eReader Format) ISBN 0-415-30677-9 (Print Edition)

Contents

Introduction: learning about teacher learning: reflections of a science educator

1

JOHN WALLACE

PART I

Personal initiatives in teacher learning 1 Changing the balance of a science teacher’s belief system

17 19

GARRY F. HOBAN

2 The challenges of attaining a transformative science education in urban high schools

34

KENNETH TOBIN

3 Leading by example within a collaborative staff

48

STEPHEN M. RITCHIE AND DONNA L. RIGANO

4 Challenges to practice, constraints on change: managing innovation in a South African township science classroom

63

JONATHAN CLARK

PART II

Collegial initiatives in teacher learning 5 The experience and challenges of teacher leadership in learning technology reform for science education: a tale of TESSI

79

81

JOLIE MAYER-SMITH

6 Enhancing science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge through collegial interaction JAN VAN DRIEL AND DOUWE BEIJAARD

99

vi Contents

7 Building a community of science learners through legitimate collegial participation

116

MARILYN FLEER AND TIM GRACE

8 Community-based science education leadership enacted in a Filipino barangay

134

SHARON E. NICHOLS AND DEBORAH J. TIPPINS

PART III

Systemic initiatives for teacher learning 9 Professional development and science curriculum implementation: a perspective for leadership

153

155

RODGER W. BYBEE, JAMES B. SHORT, NANCY M. LANDES AND JANET C. POWELL

10 Developing leadership in science teacher trainees for upper secondary schools: orientations and examples

177

CÉCILE VANDER BORGHT

11 Systemic teacher development to enhance the use of argumentation in school science activities

198

SHIRLEY SIMON, JONATHAN OSBORNE AND SIBEL ERDURAN

12 Building and sustaining communities of practice beyond the fold: nurturing agency and action

218

ERMINIA PEDRETTI, LARRY BENCZE, DEREK HODSON, ISHA DECOITO AND MAURICE DI GIUSEPPE

13 Conclusion: leading with a focus on science teaching and learning

237

J. JOHN LOUGHRAN

Notes on contributors Index

247 255

Introduction Learning about teacher learning: reflections of a science educator John Wallace

For more than three decades I have been occupied with the themes that form the focus for this book – leadership, professional development and science teacher learning. In this time, I have worked as a high school science teacher and head of department, as a curriculum writer in a large school system, as a district-based school development officer and in various capacities as a university-based educator, facilitator and researcher. Thus, as I gather my thoughts for the Introduction to this book, I find myself looking back on various aspects of my practice and research in classrooms, schools and school systems. I am also looking forward, if you like, to see what others are saying about the topic and how their ideas about teacher leadership, professional development and learning intersect with my own. In describing these experiences and ideas, I call on a variety of educational contexts and literatures, including many examples from science education, to address two core questions: What is the nature of teacher learning?; and How can teacher learning be nurtured and encouraged? What follows is a chapter in four parts. I begin, autobiographically, describing several nodal moments (Bullough and Pinnegar, 2001; Graham, 1989) in my career; followed by a summary of some of the findings from my research into teacher learning. Third, I examine how other literatures on learning about teaching (including the contributions to this volume) are leading to some promising models for teacher learning and development. I conclude with a discussion of the nexus between leadership, professional development and science teacher learning and the possibilities for improving science education.

Nodal career moments Science teacher When I began teaching high school science in rural Western Australia in 1969, I joined a highly centralized and regulated school system. On almost

2 John Wallace

every important matter of practice, conduct and employment, my life as a young teacher was regulated by the state Education Department. In the classroom, I was expected to teach a largely content-driven curriculum, use state-provided textbooks, follow a strict assessment regime and prepare students for public examinations. My work was overseen by a head of department and school principal, and my classroom was inspected annually by the state superintendent of science. In the early 1970s, when the Department introduced a new processoriented curriculum involving continuous assessment, the changes were accompanied by detailed supporting materials, state-wide teacher professional development and regular school visits by experienced advisory teachers. During this time, there was a clear expectation and understanding that I would implement the new curriculum and receive appropriate support and supervision. This tightly regulated arrangement left little scope for local experimentation and leadership. The science education leaders – the superintendents of science – were clearly located at the top of the system. In Western Australia, these were powerful, charismatic figures, seen by many to be heroic initiators and drivers of change (White and Wallace, 1999). These leaders exercised their authority through their position of power, seniority in the system and knowledge of the organizational culture. For the most part, this was a comfortable, bilateral arrangement for a young teacher – in exchange for my cooperation and job security, I was provided with guidance, support, direction and supervision. Head of department Several years later, in 1980, I was promoted to head of the science department in a newly-established high school in one of the growth suburbs of Perth, the state capital. While the state school system was still highly centralized, a few schools were beginning to experiment with their own school-based curricula. Fired up with the enthusiasm of starting a new school, the thirteen science staff prepared a series of self-paced teaching modules for students in Years 8–10. We wanted students to be hands-on and take more ownership for their work, and to achieve some degree of integration among the sciences. For each of the four-week modules we adopted catchy titles, such as Starting Science, Men and Machines, and Cosmetic Science. In retrospect, the content of our modules probably was not too different from what we had always done, yet at the time it seemed very new and exciting. As a staff, we worked very hard over the next few years to develop and implement these new modules – we visited other schools, formed writing teams, piloted materials, observed each other’s classes and shared ideas. It fell on me as head of department to think strategically, to

Introduction 3

marshal resources and to challenge people with new ideas. But the lead role was often shared according to the interests and motivations of the group. Bruce and Alan, for example, were the key motivators, helping to establish the group feeling, George was the artist and philosopher of the group, Steve was always promoting the students’ interests, Lyn was the biology content expert, Peter was in charge of chemistry, and so on. The momentum on this project faded after a while as innovation turned into routine and people transferred to other schools, but this rich experience marked the beginning of my interest in leadership in schools and the potential of learning about teaching in collegial groups. Curriculum writer In 1985, at the invitation of the state superintendent of science, I joined the central curriculum branch of the Western Australian Education Department – at the time one of the largest curriculum branches in Australia. In essence, it was like a large publishing firm, generating teaching materials for every subject for every teacher in the state. My task was to prepare a new science curriculum for the transition period between primary school and high school, Years 7 and 8. Under the close supervision of the science superintendent, I wrote a set of science activities organized around the themes of scientific processes, such as observing, measuring, predicting, controlling variables, etc. These activities were published and distributed to primary and high school teachers throughout the state via specially convened, centrally funded, two-day workshops held at various city and regional locations. This was a classic top-down curriculum implementation model. Initiating, planning, writing, publishing and related teacher development were all centrally controlled. Local input was minimal and teachers were expected to adopt the new curriculum with fidelity. In many ways, I was part of a system largely unchanged from my early days as a beginning teacher. A kind of co-dependency had been established – the system provided teachers with comprehensive curriculum guides and materials, and teachers understood and expected that their curriculum needs would be determined and met by the system. School development officer Things began to change in 1987. The state Education Department embarked on a process of restructuring – shifting many centralized staffing and resourcing functions to local district offices and schools. Subject superintendents were reassigned to general district-based roles and the central curriculum branch was severely reduced in size. At the same time, the state introduced a new unitized curriculum and assessment structure –

4 John Wallace

promoting more choice for students and more flexible delivery at the school level. I was part of a vanguard of new district-based staff with the job of assisting the four high schools in my district to implement the new curriculum. My role as a school development officer during this period was to help schools work through the various implementation problems. Sometimes I adopted a facilitation role, at other times I led groups of science teachers to develop curriculum materials or helped school leaders with timetabling or scheduling concerns. It was an exciting but tumultuous time. Schools, used to receiving directives and material support directly from the centre, were now finding themselves responsible for much of the detailed implementation of the new curriculum. Often, I found myself caught in the middle, between a system wanting to push more responsibility on to schools and schools desperately seeking more guidance and support from the centre. I learned a lot during my year in this job about the tricky balance between local curriculum control, and central pressure and support. As the system was becoming more decentralized, there were important implications for how this balance was to be managed and for leadership in schools. Course designer and presenter A few years later in the early 1990s, when I started working at Curtin University, I was contracted by the Education Department to conduct leadership development for school principals, deputy principals and heads of department. My colleague Helen Wildy and I were involved in designing a program, called the School Leadership Program, to help leaders adjust to the new restructured environment. Drawing on the work of Senge (1990) and others, we encouraged people to move from seeing the leader as an administrator within a bureaucratic and centralized organization to adopting a view of an educational leader in a professional and decentralized organization. We emphasized several key issues, including working on improvement rather than maintenance, working collaboratively rather than in isolation, fostering responsibility rather than dependency, encouraging problem solving rather than solving problems, and listening more than telling (Wallace and Wildy, 1995). We delivered the program in four stages – a three-day workshop, a school-based action research project, small group district-based support meetings and a follow-up half-day workshop (Wildy and Wallace, 1994). The course turned out to be very popular – several hundred school leaders participated over a four-year period. As I interacted with many participants over this time, it became very clear that leaders were searching for tools to assist them in this new era of school governance. What the course emphasized for me was the dilemma-richness of leadership in this new environment – school leaders were expected to be strong and

Introduction 5

decisive, but also caring and collegial (Wildy and Louden, 2000; Wildy and Wallace, 1997a). They were continually having to manage their way through issues of responsibility and accountability, balancing time and resources, and attending to relationships with others (Wildy and Wallace, 1997b). Critical friend In 1992, Helen Wildy and I began a six-year association with Waverley High School, a small rural school about 300 km south of Perth. We were invited by the principal and staff to act as ‘critical friends’ for the school as it participated in a new national initiative called the National Schools Project (Louden and Wallace, 1997). This project was designed to encourage and support schools to restructure their work environments with a particular focus on improving student outcomes. At Waverley, the staff established the goal of developing student responsibility and problemsolving capacity. Over a six-year period, we visited the school several times a year to record and comment on how cultural and structural changes were being achieved (Wallace and Wildy, 1992, 1994). We observed some significant cultural changes at Waverley during this time – including a greater emphasis on shared leadership, team building, consultation and responsibility among staff, often modelled in relationships with students. Structural changes to teaching and learning practices followed the cultural changes. These included a shift towards integrated curricula, team teaching, student-centred teaching and outcomes-based assessment. Many examples of students actively involved in planning, organizing and evaluating their work were also documented. Over the course of the project, Waverley became one of the lighthouse schools for the Western Australian school system and an example of how a mix of top-down and bottom-up can achieve results. The National Schools Project provided a central rationale and support for change. However, the project provided Waverley with room to work through school changes in a bottom-up fashion. The teachers decided on their own priorities for change, marshalled resources, organized their own professional development and experimented with changes to classroom practice. In this school the project seemed to provide the right combination of central and local support and encouragement for teachers to make important changes to their working environment. Program evaluator In the early 1990s, the Western Australian Education Department instituted a radical shift in emphasis from curriculum inputs to outputs. Building on earlier national initiatives, the state Department published a series of

6 John Wallace

student outcome statements for each of the eight learning areas, including science (Education Department of Western Australia, 1994). These statements were intended to be used by schools and teachers as guides for designing learning activities and reporting on student progress. Coinciding with the publication of the new outcome statements, the Australian federal government made available a pool of monies for teacher professional development. I became involved in this project – called the National Professional Development Project – in various capacities, as a presenter and program evaluator (Wallace et al., 1998). The project was noteworthy for several reasons. While the project was administered centrally, most of the funds were distributed to subjectbased, sub-projects managed by representatives of teacher employers, professional associations (such as the science teachers association) and universities. Sub-project committees organized and delivered professional development to constituent groups of teachers, based on the broad central goal of promoting outcomes-based teaching. We found that the crosssectoral composition of the sub-projects led to a high degree of voluntarism on the part of the organizers and high participation rates among teachers. Delivery costs, per teacher, were considerably lower than comparable centrally organized professional development. We found that participating teachers reported significantly higher levels of understanding and ownership of the outcomes-based approach than their non-participating colleagues. Our research indicated that this systemic professional development model – mixing broad central goals with local, cross-sectoral management – was particularly effective in helping teachers learn about, and experiment with, the new curriculum. Action research facilitator My most recent experience working with groups of teachers was at Smith College, a large, long-established, independent boys school, not far from Curtin University. Over the period 1999–2001, my colleague Peter Taylor and I were involved as facilitators and critical friends for the school’s Teaching and Learning Project. The project consisted of groups of volunteer teachers researching their own practice using a participatory action research model (Kemmis and McTaggart, 2000) involving successive cycles of planning–enactment–reflection–evaluation. Teachers worked on their research in groups and met monthly with other groups to discuss progress. At the monthly meetings we encouraged people to challenge their own and their colleagues’ claims about the success (or otherwise) of their teaching. At the end of the school year participants presented their research to nonparticipating colleagues at a specially convened ‘show and tell’ staff meeting. Each year, around fifteen teachers participated in the project and the research activities ranged across subject areas and years – for example,

Introduction 7

improving language skills for kindergarten students, introducing computer portfolios to Year 10 science students, enhancing social studies students’ web searching skills, using a constructivist referent for teaching Year 11 mathematics, and building relationships between Year 1 and Year 10 students in designing, making and appraising children’s toys. As facilitators, Peter and I tried to help teachers to become more reflective about their own practice but also more transformative, to use the project as a vehicle to collaboratively shift the institutional culture towards learning as a priority. As a group, we probably had more success on the first front than the second (Wallace et al., 2002). We found the school culture difficult to shift – while project teachers participated with enthusiasm, they did so against a backdrop of non-participating colleagues who were sceptical of the project and saw little need for change. We characterized the school environment as being rich with dilemmas, not the least of which was the dilemma of how to respect the traditions of the school while promoting and celebrating a new focus on teaching and learning. These eight nodal career moments span a thirty-year period of working in and around schools. While I have chosen to emphasize different aspects of my work during this period, for me, two central questions remain at the core – What is the nature of teacher learning? and How can teacher learning be nurtured and encouraged? How we attend to these core questions depends on how we fix our gaze. For example, as I have done in my autobiographical account, the gaze could fix on teacher learning and the balance between central versus local governance, strong versus shared leadership, teacher responsibility versus accountability, cultural versus structural change, curriculum inputs versus outputs, or tradition versus change. Alternatively, the gaze might settle on teacher learning and pedagogical content knowledge or the dissonance between teacher and student views of teaching and learning. In this book, we have chosen to arrange the chapters in three parts – focusing on the personal, the collegial and the systemic. In many respects, organizing the book in this way has been a deliberate decision, designed to parallel my own substantive research interests over the past decade and a half. During this time I have pursued three research foci, broadly based on the theme of teacher learning. These foci are teacher knowledge, teacher collegiality and systemic reform.

Teacher learning: research foci In this section, I synthesize the findings from my research into teacher knowledge, teacher collegiality and systemic reform, and draw some connections with the nature of teacher learning.

8 John Wallace

Teacher knowledge Underpinning my work with teachers has been a belief in the importance of teacher knowledge. Much of my research in this area was conducted during the late 1980s and the 1990s with my colleague Bill Louden (Wallace and Louden, 1992, 2000). Bill and I came to the view that teaching involves a search for a set of routines and patterns of practice which are used to resolve the problems posed by particular subjects and groups of children. Teacher knowledge (and hence learning) is therefore situated in particular classrooms. For example, teaching the topic of flowering plants to a group of twenty-eight Year 9 boys is a different task from teaching chemical equilibrium to a coed class of fifteen Year 12 students, requiring different kinds of content knowledge and pedagogical content knowledge. Teachers’ knowledge about patterns of practice, content and resolutions to familiar classroom problems can be traced to their biography and experience. Confronted by new problems, challenges and dilemmas, teachers seek resolutions based on what they know about the problem at hand. Teaching therefore becomes a search for a more settled rather than more effective practice – personal comfort, routine practice and classroom order being the teacher’s primary interest at hand. Knowledge about teaching develops from a gradual expanding of horizons of understanding (Louden, 1991) rather than sudden leaps of insight. It involves a process of tinkering and experimenting with classroom strategies, trying out new ideas, refining old ideas, problem-setting and problem-solving. We found that the primary motivation for teacher learning emerges from classroom problems rather than external imperatives for change.

Teacher collegiality In a second thread of research, I examined the phenomenon of teacher collaboration (Wallace, 1998, 1999; Wallace and Louden, 1994). Teachers often learn in collaborative groups because teacher knowledge is, in part, socially derived. These groups persist because they service the personal and professional needs of those involved. Collaboration cannot be easily forced on people by school leaders or outside authorities. Groups are sustained by mutual trust and respect, and the common interest of their members in children and curriculum. When these elements are missing or when success can be more readily achieved alone, the motivation of teachers to collaborate is lessened. Group members look out for each other’s personal interests and attend to the small matters of courtesy and caring that characterize good interpersonal relations. They understand one another, respect each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and allow their partners space to move.

Introduction 9

Quite apart from their personal friendships, teachers cooperate with one another and undertake joint projects in order to succeed in their own work. Attention is typically focused primarily on matters close to the heart – students, subjects, classrooms and time. Group leadership for this joint work sometimes involves a single individual who contributes unifying ideas but more often the lead role is shared or distributed around the group according to the interests and motivations of the members. Systemic reform A third research thread arose from an interest in systemic reform (Louden and Wallace, 1997; Venville et al., 1998; Wallace et al., 1998). As others have observed, it is often a long distance from the policy level to teacher learning (Loucks-Horsley, 1998). We know from hard experience that centralized initiatives alone rarely impact on teachers, particularly within a tight–loose governance structure. We also know that local initiatives may galvanize people for a short period, but that those local gains are rarely transferable to other schools. Some kind of mix of central pressure and local ownership seems to provide the most promise. As I indicated in my autobiographical account, finding the balance between local and central is tricky. Some models retain a broad overview but shift the management of the reform locally – so that schools, district groups, coalitions of interested parties, or teacher-leaders can organize and deliver professional development, pool equipment and develop additional support materials. Providing local schools or groups with modest ‘seed’ funding to mount concrete activities is often a significant motivator. However, there is a better chance of ideas spreading across the system if local groups work within broadly stated central goals and receive central support through the provision of funds and human resources. The advantage of this bottom up/top down approach is that teachers and schools are provided with both central direction and local flexibility to make changes, within a framework of support and pressure. Each of these three research foci contributes to the first of my two core questions – What is the nature of teacher learning? and How can teacher learning be nurtured and encouraged? These questions are also informed by what has become known as the ‘situative perspective’ (Greeno, 1997), with its emphasis on ideas such as situated cognition, distributed cognition and communities of practice (Lave and Wegner, 1991). According to Putnam and Borko (2000), three conceptual themes are central to the situated perspective – that learning is situated, social and distributed. These three themes correspond to our own work on teacher knowledge, for example, where we found that teacher learning is situated – within the classroom and around particular problems of practice. It is also social –

10 John Wallace

derived from an individual’s biography and experience. Study of collegial groups confirms the situated and social nature of teacher learning, but also indicates that learning is distributed across several individuals. Research into systemic reform shows that professional development has a much greater impact if it is locally managed and is focused as close to the classroom as possible – thus attending to the situated, social and distributed character of teacher learning.

What is the nature of teacher learning? In this section I will attempt to unpack these three conceptual themes about learning – the situated, the social and the distributed – as they relate to the first core question. Learning about teaching is situated Situative theorists posit that the context in which an activity takes place is as important as the activity itself (Lave and Wegner, 1991). Moreover, they suggest that how a person learns is intricately connected to the social and cognitive context in which learning takes place. That is, when people learn, they learn about knowledge, skills and situations at the same time. A focus on the situative perspective emphasizes authentic activities, defined by Brown and colleagues as ‘ordinary practices of a culture’ (1989, p. 34). Authentic activities are what actual practitioners do (Putnam and Borko, 2000). For teachers, authentic activities would normally and naturally be situated in and around the classroom, but also in other school and non-school settings depending on the nature of the activity and the goals of the learning. Learning about teaching is social How teachers think, talk and act are the products of their interactions with groups of people over time. Teachers participate in various discourse communities (Resnick, 1991), including state and district affiliations, formal and informal subject and professional groupings, school collegial groups and particular classrooms. Teachers become enculturated into those groups, gaining the cognitive, cultural and language tools to participate. Learning, therefore, takes place within the community, and using the tools available to them. Creating rich opportunities for diverse groups of teachers to participate in, and to shape, discourse communities is therefore a critical component of teacher learning. Healthy and rigorous discussion helps develop new insights into teaching and learning, which are in turn shared across community members.

Introduction 11

Learning about teaching is distributed Some theorists argue that learning, rather than residing exclusively with the individual, is ‘stretched over’ (Lave, 1988) the individual, other persons and various artefacts or tools. Under this conception, the work of teaching – and leading other teachers (Spillane et al., 2001) – is distributed across groups of individuals (teachers, students, colleagues, formal school leaders) who employ tools (curriculum documents, teaching materials, timetables) to achieve certain goals. A distributed perspective represents something of a departure from previous ideas about teachers’ work, which emphasized the importance of the individual teacher. A distributed perspective suggests that learning about teaching involves the teacher (or teacher leader) and the other members of the educational organization or community (classroom, school and/or system) interacting with the various artefacts and tools used by that organization or community.

How can teacher learning be nurtured and encouraged? Let me now shift the focus to the second of my core questions. A situated perspective would suggest that teachers need the opportunity to engage in authentic activities, participate in rigorous and critical debate within discourse communities and develop facility with the various tools used in that community. Often, these conditions are not always available in the one place. While authentic activities are most often associated with the classroom and the school, it is difficult for teachers to break out of routine ways of teaching and schools do not always value or support critical and reflective practice (see, for example, Chapter 4 by Clark). The more sophisticated cognitive, cultural and language tools of practice are often to be found in discourse communities outside the school – for example, in professional associations, universities, and district and central offices (see Chapter 10 by Vander Borght). Moreover, organizational learning, and learning across the profession, are more likely to proceed if teachers engage in communities beyond the four walls of the classroom. Most contemporary models of teacher professional development (Bell and Gilbert, 1996; Hawley and Valli, 1999; Loucks-Horsley et al., 1998) seem to favour a mix of settings (classroom, in school, out of school), communities (classroom, school, profession, system) and foci (theory, practice, tools) for learning. Some detailed examples of these models in action can be found in the other chapters in this volume. Multiple learning contexts, for example, can combine out-of-school, theory and practicebased learning experiences with ongoing support for teachers to integrate ideas into their classroom practice (see Chapter 9 by Bybee et al. and Chapter 11 by Simon et al.). Multiple contexts can take the form of action research projects – fostering classroom-based, teacher research within a

12 John Wallace

context of theory-driven ideas, and collegial and other support (see Chapter 12 by Pedretti et al.). Other examples place particular emphasis on building a discourse community around science education, across the school but also in the wider school community (see Chapter 8 by Nichols and Tippins; Chapter 7 by Fleer and Grace; and Chapter 3 by Ritchie and Rigano). Importantly – as highlighted by John Loughran in the conclusion – most models provide a clear classroom (teacher–student) focus for science teacher learning, around the development of particular skills, understandings and/or tools – pedagogical (see Chapter 5 by Mayer-Smith), cultural (see Chapter 2 by Tobin), or language (see Chapter 1 by Hoban). In a similar vein, my colleague Bill Louden and I have been encouraging a multiple focus for leadership and teacher development – on specifics (of teaching, often involving cases)‚ on standards (of teaching and learning), on quality conversations (focused on teaching and with colleagues) and on contexts (structured formal and informal learning situations). In one example (Louden et al., 2001), we worked with a group of experienced science teachers over a two-year period in a cyclic process of data collection, discussion and practice. Teachers videoed their own classrooms, came together with colleagues to discuss their teaching videos in relation to a set of professional standards and returned to the classroom to try some new ideas. The video segments, colleague commentaries and other artefacts were also assembled into a set of multimedia video cases for use as source material for further discussion.

Final thoughts This is a book about the nexus between leadership, professional development and science teacher learning. In reviewing these three ideas, I will work backwards in order to show the relationship among all three. Teacher learning is, I maintain, a central tenet for educational reform. Teacher learning is situated in teachers’ practices, is social in nature and is distributed across communities and tools. Teacher learning is, therefore, inextricably linked to the learning of others – to students’ learning, colleagues’ learning and organizational learning. Teacher learning proceeds gradually and hesitantly by the expansion of horizons of understanding (Louden, 1991), rather than through sudden leaps of insight. Professional development entails the creation of formal and informal opportunities for teacher learning. In keeping with the situative perspective on learning, teacher development needs to proceed in multiple contexts (settings, communities and learning foci). Ball and Cohen (1999, p. 25) refer to a ‘pedagogy of professional development’ comprising the tasks and materials of practice, the discourse to support learning with these tasks and materials, and the roles and capabilities of leaders who provide guidance and support for this work. Local management of profes-

Introduction 13

sional development linked in some way to other discourse communities potentially enhances local relevance and ownership and develops wider organizational learning. Finally and importantly, professional development needs to proceed respectfully, taking into account the gradual way in which teacher knowledge grows and changes (Louden and Wallace, 1994). Leadership, the final member of this troika of ideas, has perhaps received the least treatment in this chapter. To some degree, this has been deliberate, because I see teacher leadership and teacher learning as having many parallels. Both learning and leadership can be seen from a situative or distributed perspective. This perspective shifts the focus from the individual leader to leaders operating within contexts and communities of practice (Spillane et al., 2001). By taking leadership practice as the unit of analysis, rather than the individual leader, the tasks of leadership are distributed across all members of the community (including formal and informal leaders). This perspective does not deny the importance of positional leaders in initiating action and supporting others, but it does recognize that community members work collectively to carry out the work of the community. Leadership in education (like learning in education) is focused on the classroom – involving the assembling, coordination and use of the cognitive, cultural and language tools and resources necessary for teaching and learning to proceed (Spillane et al., 2001). This book focuses particularly on teacher leadership – what Silva and colleagues (2000) call third wave leadership – entailing teachers learning, and leading others in learning, about the challenges of practice. Several detailed examples of teacher leadership are described in this volume, operating at different levels – in the classroom (individual teachers working with their classes), with colleagues (teachers working together on joint projects), or systemically (leading professional development, for example). I began this chapter by reflecting on my involvement in science education over the past three decades and posing two questions – about the nature of science teachers’ learning and the conditions under which it can be nurtured and encouraged. In attempting to answer these questions, I examined examples from my own career and research, and other perspectives on teacher learning. I have come to the view that the answers to these questions are both simple and complex. Simply stated, teacher learning is about building and sustaining knowledge of classroom practice across various discourse communities. It includes principles such as a focus on instruction, collegiality, community, shared expertise, respect for teacher knowledge, the evolution of teacher knowledge, local management and organizational learning. Putting these principles into practice, however, is a different story. Teacher learning is also complex because it is about individuals and their relationships with others, and it takes place within an environment rich with dilemmas – of practice (Wallace and

14 John Wallace

Louden, 2002), of leadership (Wildy and Louden, 2000) and of school reform (Flett and Wallace, in press). Teacher learning, leadership and professional development are different facets of the same phenomenon. They are all directly concerned with building and sustaining the knowledge and skills of teachers. The contributors to this volume offer a series of images of science teacher learning – taken from various national, school and classroom contexts. Our aim has been to problematize the issues and to illustrate some of the challenges and possibilities for improving science education through teacher learning. We trust that the arguments and examples contained herein provide a rich source of material for improving practice and stimulating further debate.

References Ball, D. L. and Cohen, D. K. (1999) Developing practice, developing practitioners: Towards a practice-based theory of professional education. In L. DarlingHammond and G. Sykes (eds), Teaching as a Learning Profession: Handbook of Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 3–32. Bell, B. and Gilbert, B. (1996) Teacher Development: A Model from Science Education. London: Falmer. Brown, J. S., Collins, A. and Duguid, P. (1989) Situated cognition and the culture of learning. Educational Researcher, 18(1), 32–42. Bullough, R. V. and Pinnegar, S. (2001) Guidelines for quality in autobiographical forms of self-study research. Educational Researcher, 30(3), 13–21. Education Department of Western Australia (1994) Student Outcome Statements (Working edition). Perth, Australia: Education Department of Western Australia. Flett, J. and Wallace, J. (in press). Change dilemmas for curriculum leaders: Dealing with mandated change in schools. Journal of Curriculum and Supervision. Graham, R. J. (1989) Autobiography and education. Journal of Educational Thought, 23(2), 92–105. Greeno, J. G. (1997) On claims that answer the wrong question. Educational Researcher, 26(1), 5–17. Hawley, W. D. and Valli, L. (1999) The essentials of effective professional development: A new consensus. In L. Darling-Hammond and G. Sykes (eds), Teaching as a Learning Profession: Handbook of Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 127–159. Kemmis, S. and McTaggart, R. (2000) Participatory action research. In N. Denzin and Y. Lincoln (eds) Handbook of Qualitative Research. 2nd edn. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, pp. 567–605. Lave, J. (1988) Cognition in Practice: Mind, Mathematics and Culture in Everyday Life. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lave, J. and Wegner, E. (1991) Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Introduction 15 Loucks-Horsley, S. (1998) The role of teaching and learning in systemic reform: A focus on professional development. Science Educator, 7(1), 1–6. Loucks-Horsley, S., Hewson, P. W., Love, N. and Stiles, K. E. (1998) Designing Professional Development for Teachers of Science and Mathematics. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin. Louden, W. (1991) Understanding Teaching: Continuity and Change in Teachers’ Knowledge. London: Cassell. Louden, W. and Wallace, J. (1994) Knowing and teaching science: The constructivist paradox. International Journal of Science Education, 16(6), 649–657. Louden, W. and Wallace, J. (1997) Australia’s grand experiment: School reform and the National Schools Project. International Journal of Educational Reform, 6(3), 266–273. Louden, W., Wallace, J. and Groves, R. (2001) Spinning a web (case) around professional standards: Capturing the complexity of science teaching. Research in Science Education, 31(2), 227–244. Putnam, R. T. and Borko, H. (2000) What do new views of knowledge and thinking have to say about research on teacher learning? Educational Researcher, 29(1), 4–15. Resnick, L. B. (1991) Shared cognition: Thinking as social practice. In L. B. Resnick, J. M. Levine and S. D. Teasley (eds), Perspectives on Socially Shared Cognition. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association, pp. 1–20. Senge, P. M. (1990) The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organisation. New York: Doubleday. Silva, D. V., Gimbert, B. and Nolan, J. (2000) Sliding the doors: Locking and unlocking possibilities for teacher leadership. Teachers College Press, 102(4), 779–804. Spillane, J. P., Halverson, R. and Diamond, J. B. (2001) Investigating school leadership practice: A distributed perspective. Educational Researcher, 30(3), 23–28. Venville, G., Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (1998) A state-wide change initiative: The Primary Science Teacher-Leader Project. Research in Science Education, 28(2), 199–217. Wallace, J. (1998) Collegiality and teachers’ work in the context of peer supervision. The Elementary School Journal, 99(1), 81–98. Wallace, J. (1999) Professional school cultures: Coping with the chaos of teacher collaboration. Australian Educational Researcher, 26(2), 67–85. Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (1992) Science teaching and teachers’ knowledge: Prospects for reform of elementary classrooms. Science Education, 76(5), 507–521. Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (1994) Qualities of collaboration and the growth of teachers’ knowledge. Qualitative Studies in Education, 7(4), 323–334. Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (2000) Teachers’ Learning: Stories of Science Education. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer. Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (eds) (2002) Dilemmas of Science Teaching: Perspectives on Problems of Practice. London and New York: RoutledgeFalmer. Wallace, J., Louden, W. and Wildy, H. (1998) Big Picture/Small Picture: Curriculum Reform and the National Professional Development Program. ACEA

16 John Wallace Monograph Series 23. Melbourne: Australian Council for Educational Administration. Wallace, J., Taylor, P. and Settlelmaier, L. (2002) Dilemmas of school-based reform: An interpretive case study of teacher empowerment and dissent, paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, New Orleans, LA, April. Wallace, J. and Wildy, H. (1992) Pioneering school change: Lessons from a case study of school site restructuring. Planning and Changing, 23(4), 192–207. Wallace, J. and Wildy, H. (1994) The National Schools Project: School site experiences at restructuring. Unicorn, 20(1), 63–72. Wallace, J. and Wildy, H. (1995) Working in the science department: Developing a professional community. Science Educator, 4(1), 1–6. White, R. and Wallace, J. (1999) Heroism and science education reform. Research in Science Education, 29(4), 417–430. Wildy, H. and Louden, W. (2000) School restructuring and the dilemmas of principals’ work. Educational Management and Administration, 28(3), 173–184. Wildy, H. and Wallace, J. (1994) The Western Australian School Leadership Program: Towards a new paradigm for leadership development. South Pacific Journal of Teacher Education, 22(2), 217–225. Wildy, H. and Wallace, J. (1997a) Devolving power in schools: Resolving the dilemma of strong and shared leadership. Leading and Managing, 3(2), 132–146. Wildy H. and Wallace, J. (1997b) Improving science education through accountability relationships. Science Educator, 6(1), 11–15.

Part I

Personal initiatives in teacher learning

Chapter 1

Changing the balance of a science teacher’s belief system Garry F. Hoban

Background The aim of this chapter is to describe how a novice science teacher changed the balance of his belief system while participating in a two-year professional learning project. A unique feature of the project was that teachers listened to taped interviews of their own students talking about their learning in science (and in other subjects). The project brought about real change as shown in the detailed story of this novice teacher. The chapter concludes with a discussion about the difficulties of changing a teacher’s belief system and what that might mean more generally for teacher change.

Introduction There are many considerations when thinking about how to teach high school science – the subject matter, personal style, type of children, the curriculum, external examinations, existing policies of the school or district, resources, school context, parental expectations and school structure. These influences, however, are not independent, rather, they are interrelated with each one affecting the others. Also, there is often a social pressure on teachers to conform to the way that colleagues organize their instruction. Furthermore, it is not uncommon for teachers to fall back on their own experiences as high school students and teach in the way they were taught. Lortie (1975) calls this the ‘apprenticeship of observation’. Because of these many influences, teachers often develop a pattern of instruction that is difficult to change in spite of professional development (Day, 1999; Grossman, 1991). A teacher’s pedagogy, therefore, is underpinned by different types of teacher knowledge. For instance, Elbaz (1983) highlighted five categories of practical knowledge: 1 2

knowledge of self; knowledge of the milieu of teaching;

20 Garry F. Hoban

3 4 5

knowledge of subject matter; knowledge of curriculum development; and knowledge of instruction.

Barnes (1992) suggested that Elbaz should also include, ‘knowledge of students and student learning’ and identified five interrelated beliefs for influencing how secondary teachers develop their practice: 1 2 3 4 5

the nature of personal commitment to teaching; beliefs about subject matter; beliefs about student learning; beliefs about the role of students; and beliefs about priorities and constraints inherent in the professional and institutional context.

Therefore it can be argued that how a teacher thinks about his/her practice is underpinned by a combination or system of beliefs that guides classroom instruction. However, the influence of these beliefs is not always equal. If one of these beliefs is held more strongly than others, it will drive the type of instruction in classrooms, with other beliefs having less influence. For instance, the notion that science teaching is ‘transmissive’ (Barnes, 1992) or teacher-centered means that the prime belief driving the organization of pedagogy concerns the delivery of subject matter. A teacher with such a mindset may plan lessons based on a sequence of content while beliefs about how students learn or the resources needed become a secondary concern. This approach is common among secondary science teachers because their pedagogy is often dominated by a prescriptive curriculum that puts pressure on them to cover a large amount of specific content. Alternatively, teaching which is described as ‘student-centered’ may primarily focus on how students learn, thus taking into consideration students’ prior knowledge or the structuring of social interactions with peers and the teacher. Covering subject matter is still a consideration in studentcentered lessons, but it is not as dominant as in a teacher-centered approach. Although the terms ‘teacher-centered’ and ‘student-centered’ present a dichotomy, they are useful for representing how some teachers think about their practice and how some beliefs are more dominant than others, resulting in a different type of instruction. However, it is only one way of representing the situation. Thinking about teaching as a set of interacting beliefs explains why teacher change is such a difficult process (Fullan and Stiegelbauer, 1991; Hoban, 2000), because, over a period of years, a teacher’s pedagogy often develops into a pattern or system with some beliefs being more dominant than others. Teacher change, therefore, will rarely be an instantaneous

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 21

action. Instead, changing teaching means altering the balance or equilibrium between different beliefs and it requires considerable time to develop a new balance. For this reason, one-off professional development workshops rarely promote change – they have little influence on shifting teachers’ beliefs and, in some cases, reinforce existing practices. Sachs and Logan (1990) claim that brief in-service courses do not encourage teachers to be reflective or empower them to control their own learning: Rather than initiating programmes that are intellectually challenging and rigorous, in-service education, with some exceptions, has reproduced current practice by catering for teachers’ preoccupation with ‘practicality’ and ‘relevance.’ One consequence is that teachers’ professional knowledge is being controlled, devalued and deskilled. (1990, p. 497) Therefore, changing the balance of a teacher’s belief system requires: a long-term effort with teachers taking responsibility for their own learning; being reflective; believing that teaching is a lifelong endeavor; and, working collaboratively to help other teachers to learn about their practice (Hoban, 2002). Furthermore, a catalyst for change is needed which Huberman (1995) called ‘conceptual inputs’ to provide a different perspective on how teachers frame their beliefs. This can be in the form of reading research articles (Bell and Gilbert, 1994), conducting teacher research (Cochran-Smith and Lytle, 1999) or listening to the ideas from other teachers when they work as a community (Baird and Northfield, 1992; Grossman and Wineburg, 2000).

Context of the professional learning project Participants and procedure At the end of 1994, I approached three science teachers at a small high school to invite them to participate in a long-term professional learning project. The three male teachers constituted the entire science department at the school. At the beginning of the study, David (pseudonyms are used for all participants) was in his first year of teaching, Craig was in his fifth year of teaching and Geoff (head of department) had taught for fourteen years. The focus of the project was to encourage teachers to reflect on their practice after listening to recorded student interviews in which the students commented on effective teaching and learning across different subjects in the school (Hoban, 1996). The teachers listened to the tapes in monthly meetings after school during 1995 and 1996. Most of the meetings went on for 60–90 minutes during which time the teachers stopped the audiotape at will and discussed implications for their own practice.

22 Garry F. Hoban

I had three main roles in the professional learning project. One was to interview the students, categorize the data and re-record sections of the interviews onto ‘thematic audiotapes’ for the teachers to listen to during their meetings. Another role was to interview the teachers to ascertain how they framed their beliefs and to explore how this framing was or was not influenced by listening to the tapes. During the two-year study, the teachers were interviewed four times individually and five times as a group. In addition, the teachers completed two surveys about their beliefs. In this study, the concept of ‘frame’ refers to the ‘underlying assumptions that influence teachers’ actions’ (Barnes, 1992, p. 10). A change in how the teachers framed their practice was an indicator that reflection had occurred (Schön, 1983, 1987). My third role was to assist the teachers to change their teaching in any area that they selected as a result of the professional learning project. This was a particularly important aspect as each teacher needed to show leadership in determining the focus of their own professional learning rather than having me set the agenda. At the beginning of the study, ten students were interviewed from each teacher’s Year 9 science class using a standardized open-ended interview (Patton, 1990). This interview consisted of six main questions but with flexibility to probe students to explain their responses (see the Appendix for the interview schedule). In all, thirty students were interviewed. They were asked to describe their interests and then answer several questions about their perceptions of teaching and learning across different subjects in the school. I then collated the data by re-recording responses onto sixteen separate audiotapes that provided eight hours of student comments focusing on different themes related to teaching and learning across different subjects. Four of the tapes related to personal influences on learning (e.g. prior knowledge, responsibility, reflection, interest), seven related to teaching or social influences on learning (e.g. relationships, modeling, expectations, practice, trial and error, feedback and discussion) and five tapes related to subject specific data (e.g. science practicals or labs, writing, reading, best science teaching, and best subjects for learning). For example, the tape on prior knowledge had anecdotes from twelve students describing how knowledge from previous learning experiences helped them to understand particular concepts in science and other subjects. The teachers listened to these tapes in monthly professional development meetings and sometimes this discussion would lead to ideas to try out in their own practice (Hoban, 2000). The next section will focus on how the belief system of one of the teachers, David, changed during the project.

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 23

Beliefs underpinning David’s teaching At the beginning of the project in 1994, David was 23 years old and completing his first year as a secondary science teacher. His professional qualifications included a Bachelor of Applied Science degree and a twelve-month Postgraduate Diploma of Education completed after his science degree. His duties at school focused on the teaching of general science to Years 7–9, Year 11 Science for Life and Year 12 Biology. In addition, David was also the Year 7 patron, providing pastoral care to students in their first year of high school. His teaching-related interests included reading about research concerning platypuses, bush walking, and reading about experiments in journals published by the New South Wales and Australian Science Teachers’ Associations. His expectations for his involvement in the professional learning project were ‘to gain a better understanding of the ways in which students at the school learn best; to gain a better understanding of my own beliefs about teaching; and to improve my teaching’ (Survey 1, Dec. 1994, Qu. 11). He described his teaching as ‘fairly structured’ because he wanted students to get something concrete out of every lesson: I think I have a fairly structured style as I said earlier. I hope the kids get something, at least one thing concrete out of each lesson, I am fairly straight down the line. I don’t like a lot of, for example, movement in the classroom and things like that. A kid moving around unnecessarily when doing theory or something like that, I have difficulty with that, basically things like that, fairly structured, fairly straightforward would be the word. (Int. 1, Dec. 1994, TU 27) In the following sections I will use the five categories identified by Barnes (1992) to show the change in David’s beliefs during the professional learning project.

David’s beliefs about commitment to teaching David has always been committed to his teaching. In his first year he not only taught his science classes but also volunteered to be a year patron – an unusual role for a first year teacher. In our second interview in December 1994, he described himself as ‘enthusiastic’ and was disappointed by other teachers who were not prepared to do extra work to change. In May 1995, he stated that his involvement in the professional learning project was providing him with more satisfaction from his teaching than he had previously experienced and he believed that his students were learning more than before. Comments in an interview at the end of 1996 indicated

24 Garry F. Hoban Table 1.1 David’s beliefs about commitment to teaching December 1994

May 1995

June 1996

I am enthusiastic, I am keen, I like trying different things, experimenting around. You notice that on staff development days, there would be a couple of us who are really keen and saying, ‘That might work quite well, we will have to modify it here and there but in general, great.’ And from others you hear, ‘Oh, we can’t be bothered with that, it is more work you know.’ (Int. 2, Dec. 1994, TU 76)

If I’m getting more satisfaction out of what I’m doing now, and the kids are learning more, why would you go back, do you know what I mean? I think, to me, teaching is all about me feeling that I’m doing a good job. And if I feel I’m doing a good job, I feel much happier, I’m a much happier person. (Int. 3, May 1995, TU 317)

I think in a way we might be reaching a point that from my personal view, where I am up to, where I need something, a new section or a new something to concentrate on, to work towards. I am thinking we might go back and resurvey the kids and look at change. (Group Discussion, June 1996)

that his enthusiasm about the professional learning project had not waned, and he was looking for a new stimulus, ‘to concentrate on, to work towards.’ Data collected at different times during the study that relate to David’s commitment to teaching are shown in Table 1.1.

David’s beliefs about subject matter At the beginning of the project in December 1994, David described himself as a ‘structured’ teacher and his role was to provide students with science knowledge for future use in their schooling to ‘give the kids what they really need to know’ (Survey 1, December 1994, underlining in original). His beliefs about subject matter dominated his teaching because he organized his lessons according to a sequence of knowledge such that he would teach in ‘blocks at a time, this lesson I will do this, the next lesson I will do that. You sort of get three or four lessons in your mind and know where you are going’ (Int. 2, Dec. 1994, TU 56). He categorized science knowledge into two types, ‘working knowledge’ for lower ability students and ‘in-depth knowledge’ that more able students should learn. Several months later in the project in May 1995, he was beginning to have doubts about the content of his teaching because of the professional learning project, as he was “not convinced that what we are teaching at the moment is what we should be teaching” and was contemplating “a pretty big shake-up.” He was impressed by the fact that students in his lower ability classes could design and make clever inventions and this made him question his view of what constituted science.

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 25 Table 1.2 David’s beliefs about subject matter December 1994

May 1995

November 1996

Science is a body of knowledge which explains (or tries to) our surroundings and our environment . . . Let’s give the kids what they really need to know, to give them the knowledge and skills they really need. (Survey 1, December 1994, emphasis in original)

I mean, I look at it now, and it’s tied up with this program [professional learning project]. I’m still not quite entirely sure exactly what in science teaching we’re actually supposed to be teaching . . . I’m not convinced that what we’re teaching at the moment is what we should be teaching. (Int. 3, May 1994, TU 321)

I think that we need to look at exactly what we are teaching and try to give the kids options and electives within subjects. I think we can refine it more and actually say to kids you could do forensic science, you could do a topic on consumer science, or you could do a topic on organic chemistry, or whatever the case may be, instead of just looking at sort of topics that aren’t related to the outside world. (Personal statement, November 1996)

He came to the conclusion that the purpose of teaching science should not be just to teach knowledge for future classroom studies, but should be more relevant to the students’ lives outside the classroom so that they can “think through issues that they are going to face.” Data collected at different times during the study that relate to David’s beliefs about subject matter are shown in Table 1.2.

David’s beliefs about student learning At the beginning of the project, David’s beliefs about learning in science centered on students, ‘building a store of information which is built upon year after year about themselves and their surroundings’ (Survey 1, Dec. 1994). He believed that this storage process occurred in, ‘three, four or five different ways.’ These ways related to different types of activities and so he provided a range of lessons such as science practicals (labs), theory lessons, library lessons or lessons where students discussed and answered questions. He later explained that this variety of activities would address different learning styles and so ‘it is important to use as wide a variety of techniques as possible in the teaching of science.’ This view of learning is simplistic, as it does not take into account the personal and social influences on learning. Furthermore, it reinforced David’s position as the main source of knowledge and did not take into account his students’ prior understandings or interests.

26 Garry F. Hoban Table 1.3 David’s beliefs about student learning December 1994

May 1995

December 1996

Learning in science to me is building a store of information that is built upon year after year about themselves and their surroundings. This learning involves many different activities; each student learns differently at different stages of their lives as they go through different stages. (Survey 1, Dec. 1994)

I’m having trouble describing it because it’s skills, it’s knowledge, it’s practices, it’s thought patterns, it’s everything together the way that I would think about it. I’ve looked at the tapes, the different ways of learning; I think each of those has a different set of complexities or bits and pieces that can or need to be drawn in. (Int. 3, May 1995, TU 182)

I thought the biggest difference is in the way the kids learn. I thought I had an idea, and I thought that I was doing it actually when I first started. I thought I was doing it, but after listening to the kids and listening to the evidence on tape, it was so consistent a lot of it, most of it anyway that you really couldn’t refuse it and I think that that has prompted me to change. (Int. 4, Dec. 1995, TU 13)

By May 1995, his beliefs about student learning had changed and he had, ‘trouble describing it’ because it was more complex than he had previously envisaged. After listening to the student tapes, he realized that learning is ‘so complex’ and each tape has ‘a different set of complexities.’ Ideally he wanted to incorporate ideas from the tapes into every lesson but ‘I haven’t quite worked out a model that works in every situation to bring it all together.’ In December 1994, he explained that he thought he had an idea about the way students learn when he started teaching, so ‘I will give them a few bits and pieces’ to address different learning styles. However, ‘after listening to the kids and listening to the evidence on tape,’ he gained a better understanding of learning and this ‘prompted me to change.’ Data collected at different times during the study relating to David’s beliefs about student learning are shown in Table 1.3.

David’s beliefs about the role of students At the beginning of the project in December 1994, David believed that students should acquire a certain level of knowledge for future classroom use. In addition, he believed that students of the same ability level should learn the same predetermined amount of knowledge and skills in each topic. In this regard, more able students should get ‘in-depth knowledge’ to provide a solid foundation for their science studies later in school. For the less able students, he thought they should acquire ‘working knowledge’ about farms and forestry for use after leaving school at the end of Year 10 or for post-secondary courses.

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 27 Table 1.4 David’s beliefs about the role of students December 1994

May 1995

May 1996

I like each class to get things out of it and I expect kids of the same level each year to have the same outcome if you like, to have the same skill and knowledge at the end of it. But the way that the lessons are carried out, yes, it does vary according to the class. (Int. 1, Dec. 1994, TU 33)

It has changed in terms of the extent that the kids come into my room, get something out of it that is to their ability and their standard, and that’s as far as they’re going to achieve, then I’m happy. And I think that’s what my role as a teacher is to facilitate learning in many different ways and at many different levels. (Int. 3, May 1995, TU 128)

Before I don’t remember thinking of myself as a kid in that room and what they’ll be thinking and what they’ll be learning. . . . Sometimes I actually, well, not physically, but in my mind I put myself sitting in that room and I sit myself down with the kids and do the kids’ work; how would I be feeling or what would I be wanting to do or what would I be learning? (Int. 3, May 1996, TU 116–120)

Five months later in May 1995, he had changed his view of students in terms of the extent of knowledge that they should acquire. He also considered that his role as a teacher was to ‘facilitate learning’ which was a marked change from his view of himself as a ‘structured’ teacher. Instead of aiming for students to acquire a predetermined level of knowledge, he felt that students should ‘get something out of it that is to their ability and their standard,’ as it is ‘quite irrelevant’ to push a level of knowledge that they may need in the future. Also by May 1995, he had developed another frame to view the role of students. Because he now valued students’ views on his teaching as a result of listening to the student tapes, he was regularly self-evaluating his teaching by “thinking of myself as a kid in that room” and imagining what students thought about his teaching. Excerpts from David’s interviews during the study relating to his beliefs about students are shown in Table 1.4.

David’s beliefs about priorities and constraints in the context At the beginning of the professional learning project, David’s priority was to give students knowledge for their future studies. Consequently, he taught in a structured way to prepare them for later educational opportunities by providing them with either ‘working knowledge’ or ‘in-depth knowledge.’ In May 1995, he discussed how a structured curriculum was a constraint on his ‘flexible’ teaching because he had to keep in mind what students needed to know in the future. In November 1995, he still discussed how a structured curriculum was a constraint on his ‘flexible’

28 Garry F. Hoban Table 1.5 David’s beliefs about priorities and constraints in the context December 1994

May 1995

December 1995

Basically I like to give kids stuff that doesn’t cut off opportunities later on, opportunities to achieve, to get good jobs, to go to uni[versity] or TAFE [vocational college] or do further study later on or even to go to Years 11 and 12. It is important that they have to know, well they don’t have to know, but for their courses later on they have to have, I think it is better to have a much bigger grounding and a much greater understanding. (Int. 1, Dec. 1994, TU 101)

I bet if you ask some of those kids they would see a pretty dramatic turnaround. But because that was the way that we were taught at university, we were sort of told that, ‘You know, the HSC [final secondary school certificate] was the big goal at the end that we had to sort of work towards.’ And that it was our responsibility to get kids through that basically. We were never really encouraged to think about how they were learning. (Int. 3, May 1995, TU 199)

There’s a couple of really difficult kids in terms of any classroom environment and that makes it hard to do all the things you want to do. There’s sort of ways and means around it, you can incorporate different strategies. But that I think is one limitation of the project of teaching in that sort of style is the particular class of kids. . . . And the other thing that is a strain is in the syllabus; you must cover this for the HSC, that’s a problem. (Int. 4, Dec. 1995, TU 177)

teaching, but he managed to be flexible by giving students options to study, setting independent tasks and spending more time with less independent students. Excerpts from David’s interviews describing constraints on the teachers in the context are shown in Table 1.5. In the next section I summarize the change in David’s belief system from a structured teacher to a flexible teacher.

Summary of change in David’s belief system At the beginning of the professional learning project in 1994, David described himself as a structured teacher. The primary belief underpinning his practice was that subject matter should be used to ‘give the kids what they really need to know’ (Dec. 1994). At this time his beliefs about student learning were secondary as he thought that learning in science was about ‘building a store of information.’ Accordingly, when he planned lessons, he intended to deliver a sequence of knowledge ‘bit by bit’ to prepare students for future studies. However, as a result of the professional learning project, David’s primary belief changed from subject matter to student learning as he placed more emphasis on ‘how the kids are going to learn’ in his lessons and he changed from being a structured teacher to being a lot more flexible:

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 29

The thing that has affected me most is when I’m thinking of what I’m doing, I try to think of how the kids are going to learn and how they’re going to learn it best. And I don’t think I ever had that mind frame before. I never thought of it in that way before. . . . The way I teach, that has changed. I think by focusing more on looking at the ways the kids learn, I think I’ve become, as I tried to describe earlier, a lot more flexible, trying to do different types of things with kids that I wouldn’t have thought of before. Even so much as approaching kids and so much of what I actually do in the classroom in terms of trying to be more energetic and trying to sort of show some emotion sometimes, get excited about things and that type of thing. Even so much as thinking of, if I were in this room, what would I be thinking right now about the lesson? (Int. 3, May 1995, TU 77–82) This shift in the balance of his belief system toward being a flexible teacher was reflected in a change in his beliefs concerning subject matter, students and student learning. He explained that when he began teaching, he primarily organized his instruction based on his belief about subject matter, which was influenced by the way he was taught at school. Accordingly, he divided his knowledge into ‘bits’ and presented this content sequentially in lessons. As a result of the project, his beliefs about the purpose of teaching subject matter changed from giving students knowledge for future schooling to developing knowledge, skills, values and attitudes about socio-scientific issues that were more relevant to the students. Also, his beliefs about students changed from providing everyone with the same predetermined information to encouraging them to understand content at their own level. In addition, David’s beliefs about student learning changed from thinking that students have several learning styles to understanding that students have multiple ways of learning strongly influenced by prior knowledge and social interaction. David changed his beliefs, as he understood the need to adapt his teaching to different classes and situations. A representation of the change in David’s belief system from a structured teacher to a flexible teacher is illustrated in Figure 1.1.

Conclusion The beliefs that underpin a science teacher’s practice are interrelated and often form a pattern or habit, which may be hard to break or change. Accordingly, teacher change implies adjusting the balance of a belief system and this is difficult to do because personal beliefs have an inertia that tends to resist change. For example, the pedagogy of many science teachers is dominated by their belief about subject matter because of the strong content focus of science as a body of knowledge. The consequence is that many science teachers plan their lessons as a sequence of

30 Garry F. Hoban STUDENTS ‘Kids at the same level … should have the same outcome’

LEARNING ‘building a store of information’

SUBJECT MATTER ‘In my mind I see doing little units of work that fit into a bigger unit’

COMMITMENT ‘I am enthusiastic, I am keen’

CONTEXT ‘I do a lesson … to suit the kids for later in life’

CHANGE

STUDENTS ‘thinking of myself as a kid … doing the kids’ work’

SUBJECT MATTER ‘I think of things that are relevant outside school’ LEARNING ‘I think about how the kids are going to learn … I never had that mind frame before’

COMMITMENT ‘a new something to concentrate on’

CONTEXT ‘a strain is … you must cover this for the HSC’

Figure 1.1 Representation of change in the balance of David’s belief system.

knowledge concepts hoping that this content will be passed on to their students. Teachers often pay little attention to how students are going to learn the content. This chapter highlights how one science teacher changed by adjusting the balance of his belief system from one that was dominated by subject matter to one that was dominated by an understanding of student learning (Hoban, 1996). This change, however, did not occur as a result of a one-off workshop. Rather, change took place as part of the teacher’s involvement in a complex professional learning project with many interrelated factors (Hoban, 2002).

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 31

This chapter did not set out to explain all the factors helping teachers to change their practice in this professional learning project. However, it is interesting to note that each of the teachers involved in the project stated that the catalyst for change in their teaching was listening to the interview tapes of their own students. In short, the student tapes provided the teachers with ‘conceptual inputs’ (Huberman, 1995) as triggers for reflection (Schön, 1983; 1987) and challenged the way that the teachers thought about their practice (Barnes, 1992). Students in secondary schools are in a good position to make comments about teaching – they often see up to five different teachers a day and are exposed to a wide range of learning experiences. The professional learning project captured this rich data by interviewing high school students about teaching and learning and feeding this data back to the teachers. Why were the student data so powerful in initiating teacher change? Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that a common trend among the teachers was that their beliefs were based on the assumption that their own students would learn as they did at school (Lortie, 1975). This may account for why so many teachers reproduce existing practice. The student tapes, however, challenged these assumptions and caused the teachers to re-examine their beliefs and practices. Furthermore, the data were rich because they contained students’ perspectives on learning across different subjects, not just science. It is not a common practice for secondary teachers in different departments to share ideas about teaching and learning, whereas the students experience, and have access to, various situations from which such information is derived. Interviewing students captures this information. There are, however, other ways to capture student data about their learning. Teachers can encourage students to write in learning logs to document what teaching strategies work for them or can encourage students to conduct action research on how they learn in class. Alternatively, different perspectives on classroom teaching can be gained by sharing ideas with colleagues in different subject departments or with other community members. When teachers consider different perspectives on their work, it helps them re-examine their existing ideas and practices. Student tapes, however, were not the only factor that influenced teacher change in this study. Other factors came into play such as the teachers working together as a community and having some freedom within the school to develop their own assessment and reporting schemes. While professional learning resources such as student tapes can initiate teacher reflection, what sustains the process is the leadership that the teachers themselves accept, or grasp, in their own professional learning. In the professional learning project, the teachers illustrated, over time, a desire to change. It has been consistently demonstrated that teachers cannot be forced to change. This chapter shows, however, that some teachers will change as

32 Garry F. Hoban

long as they are provided with the right conditions to support their learning. But the process is not instantaneous as is often assumed during oneoff workshops. The change process is enhanced when teachers are encouraged to study how they learn and are given responsibility to structure their own learning environment in a school. In this way they genuinely offer individual leadership in science teaching and learning.

Acknowledgement The author would like to thank the teacher involved in this study, David Lloyd. Since the research has been completed, David has won a statewide teaching excellence award and has been promoted twice. He is currently deputy principal of a high school in rural New South Wales, Australia.

Appendix Student Interview Schedule 1 2

3

4

5 6

Rapport question: Can you tell me about yourself, your interests, your hobbies? Science context question: Can you think of a concept or topic in science that you have been taught in the last year that you understood well so that you can clearly remember it? Please tell me about it and can you think of anything that helped you to learn it? Alternative context question: What subject do you believe that you learn best in? What is special about that subject? Can you tell me what happens in the subject that helps you to learn? Hypothetical question: Can you think of a topic in science that you understand well? I want you to pretend that you are a science teacher and you are trying to teach some children about this new topic. How would you go about teaching this to the students keeping in mind the strategies that help you to learn? Open question: Do you have any other general comments about anything else in school or at home which helps you to learn? Hermeneutic/dialectic question: I am going to tell you some of the things that other students have told me which help them to learn in school. Could you give me your opinion on them?

References Baird, J. and Northfield, G. (1992) Learning from the PEEL Experience. Melbourne: Monash University Printing Services. Barnes, D. (1992) The significance of teachers’ frames for teaching. In T. Russell and H. Munby (eds), Teachers and Teaching: From Classroom to Reflection. London: Falmer Press, pp. 9–32.

Changing a science teacher’s belief system 33 Bell, B. and Gilbert, J. (1994) Teacher development as personal, social and professional development. Teaching and Teacher Education, 10(5), 483–497. Cochran-Smith, M. and Lytle, S. (1999) The teacher research movement: A decade later. Educational Researcher, 28(7), 15–25. Day, C. (1999) Developing Teachers: The Challenges of Lifelong Learning. London: Falmer Press. Elbaz, F. (1983) Teacher Thinking: A Study of Practical Knowledge. London: Croom Helm. Fullan, M. and Stiegelbauer, S. (1991) The New Meaning of Educational Change. Toronto: Ontario Institute for Studies in Educational Press. Grossman, P. L. (1991) Overcoming the apprenticeship of observation. Teaching and Teacher Education, (7)4, 345–357. Grossman, P. and Wineburg, S. (2000) What Makes a Teacher Community Different from a Community of Teachers? Washington, DC: University of Washington, Center for the Study of Teaching and Policy. Hoban, G. (1996) A professional development model based on interrelated principles of teacher learning, unpublished doctoral dissertation, The University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada. Hoban, G. F. (2000) Making practice problematic: Listening to student interviews as a catalyst for teacher reflection. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education, 28(2), 133–147. Hoban, G. F. (2002) Teacher Learning for Educational Change: A Systems Thinking Approach. Buckingham, UK, and Philadelphia, PA: Open University Press. Huberman, M. (1995) Networks that alter teaching. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 1(2), 193–221. Lortie, D. (1975) Schoolteacher: A Sociological Study. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Patton, M. Q. (1990) Qualitative Evaluation and Research Method. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Sachs, J. and Logan, L. (1990) Control or development? A study of in-service education. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 22(5), 473–481. Schön, D. A. (1983) The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action. New York: Basic Books. Schön, D. A. (1987) Educating the Reflective Practitioner: Toward a New Design for Teaching and Learning. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Chapter 2

The challenges of attaining a transformative science education in urban high schools Kenneth Tobin

Introduction I considered myself a successful high school science teacher. I had been a science educator in one place or another for more than thirty-three years when I decided to teach in the low track of a large urban high school with a school population of more than 2,000 African-American youth, most of whom were from conditions of economic hardship. I regarded myself as a strong teacher and never considered that the knowledge gleaned from a long career of teaching, research, and teacher education would fail to carry me through even the stiffest of challenges. City High is a large comprehensive neighborhood high school in West Philadelphia. The school is subdivided into nine small learning communities (SLCs), schools within schools, each containing 200–300 students, about seven teachers, a coordinator, and a non-teaching assistant (NTA, to help control student misbehavior). SLCs are organized around a vocation or a theme and for that reason they serve a tracking function. The top two academic tracks are for college-bound students and others, such as Health, are oriented toward professions. I taught in Incentive, the lowest track, an SLC for students who have been unsuccessful at high school and are in danger of dropping out because of poor academic performance, repeated absence, and in some cases having to deal with problems with the law, parenting, and poverty.

Research at City High In 1997 I moved to the University of Pennsylvania where I taught a science education course for prospective science teachers. I had taught methods courses for many years and knew what a struggle it could be to enact a curriculum perceived by prospective teachers as relevant to their needs. Frequently methods courses were regarded as ineffective and I knew to expect signs of malcontent from my students (i.e. new teachers; Tobin et al., 1999). On this occasion all of the new teachers were assigned

Challenges of urban science education 35

to urban high schools for a year-long field experience. The problems they were experiencing were profound and my suggestions, though grounded in research and theory, were of little use to them. Most of what I knew seemed inapplicable to their problems and the contexts in which they taught. With few exceptions they seemed able to teach urban youth by enacting a curriculum that approximated what Haberman (1991) described as pedagogy of poverty. Their approach was directed toward control of students and involving them in activities such as copying notes from the chalkboard, completion of worksheets, and doing exercises from the textbook. Such an approach was unacceptable to me and I resolved to learn more about urban science teaching and learning through a study of my own teaching in the Incentive SLC at City High. My interpretive research has adhered to the authenticity criteria of Guba and Lincoln (1989) to ensure that researchers learn from their studies, stakeholders are educated about what is learned from a study, positive educational changes are catalyzed in the institutions involved in the research, and steps are taken to help those unable to help themselves. My highest priority was for students to learn science in ways that would lead to an improvement in the quality of their lives (i.e. potentially science would be socially transformative).

Chapter overview The remainder of this chapter consists of three sections that address what was learned from the research and the implications for teaching science to students like those in the Incentive SLC and for educating science teachers for urban high schools. Throughout the chapter excerpts are provided by Tyrone who participated in the study as a student-researcher. After repeating grade nine for three years Tyrone dropped out of school before graduating this year from a Charter school for dropouts.

General approach She was assistant principal and she said, “You going to respect me, but I don’t have to respect you.” And stuff like that which would tick me off. Because me, if you don’t respect me, I’m not going to respect you . . . And she told me what she said, and I ain’t like the way she said it. And ever since then whenever she see me, she had just try to find something to suspend me for because she knew I wasn’t going to give her no respect because she ain’t respecting me. (Tyrone) I was not naïve when I began teaching at City High. I knew to avoid deficit thinking about my students and to connect the curriculum to their

36 Kenneth Tobin

interests and what they knew and could do. Also I knew that students would benefit from labs, inquiry approaches to learning, and a break from the pedagogy of poverty. I read about African-American psychology and studied research on urban education. But I was to realize all too quickly that I needed to re-learn to teach in urban schools. Learning to show my respect for students and earn their respect were central parts of this process. My first day went reasonably well. The students were not unruly and appreciated a novel, hands-on chromatography lab in which they examined the colors hidden in marker pens and inks. For the next day I planned a follow-up lab using chromatography to separate the colors in the dyes used in M&Ms and other candy. Immediately I experienced difficulties when half the class was absent from the first lab and those who were there refused to participate in what they considered to be the same lab. Communication was difficult. I did not know the local culture well enough to understand many critical rules for interaction and when students talked I could barely make sense of what they said. The faster they spoke, the less I understood. In hindsight I cannot imagine how disrespected students must have felt when I continually asked them to repeat what they had said. Also, issues of holding eye gaze and monitoring progress in small groups were cultural miscues on my part. My disposition to look a student in the eye was interpreted as me having a problem with the student and my monitoring of class participation was regarded as evidence of me not trusting them. I failed to understand teaching as praxis. For too long I had regarded teaching as knowledge that could be spoken, written, and thought. But words could not be turned into teaching to mediate the learning of students. My teaching was in constant breakdown, partly because the unconscious and unintended aspects of it were developed by teaching elsewhere and were not honed for this school and these students. My lack of familiarity with the students I was to teach, my cultural otherness, led me to teach in ways that were too deliberative. My pace of teaching was too slow for these ‘event full’ classrooms and my actions were rarely just in time with room to maneuver.

Challenges to my teaching This section contains a discussion of several critical challenges that arose during my teaching in the Incentive SLC. Vignettes are presented and discussed in relation to a high incidence of student absence, the difficulties of enacting a challenging curriculum to students who lack motivation to learn, the precarious lives of students out of school shape their practices at school, and the improvements that can occur when parents get involved in supporting learning.

Challenges of urban science education 37

Absence from class Students go to school for lots of reasons, some cause they have to, some cause they know they need to. You can find lots of students that come to school to further their education, but you can also find lots of students who try to stop other students from reaching their goals. I think if the students feel more motivated they would not mind coming to school every day and doing what they are supposed to do. (Tyrone) A constant challenge was the high incidence of student absenteeism. The days absent from school averaged 30 percent with the range for twentynine students being from 7 percent to 67 percent. Five students not included in these data were withdrawn from school because of their chronic absence. Mark, the highest achiever in the class, was absent 50 percent of the time, Nicole 25 percent, and Kamica 15 percent. Since none of these students had chemistry books at home and, with the exception of Kamica, did not complete homework when it was set, the sporadic pattern of attendance was a significant handicap for their learning of chemistry. Although I planned diligently, latecomers and non-arrivals were a major source of frustration. Of those in attendance on a given day, as many as one-third were not present for the preceding days. Repeated and somewhat unpredictable patterns of student absence made it virtually impossible for me to teach effectively. When students returned they often demanded immediately to be taught the work they had missed or they placed their heads down on the desk and refused to participate in the activity. To exacerbate the problem, other students arrived in the SLC throughout the semester and were placed in my class even though they had not previously studied chemistry. I tried to enact a curriculum based on independent progression but many students were not motivated to participate and required constant urging from me. In small groups they seemed to have goals of their own, socialized for most of the time, and learning and progression on assignments were depressingly low. Many students did not accept the role of teaching or being taught by others; they regarded it as my duty to teach them. Consistent with the reports of my new teachers, the students only seemed to work as I intended during highly teacher-structured activities such as copying notes from the chalkboard. Low motivation to learn You can’t teach somebody that don’t want to learn. They don’t want to learn they not going to learn. The more they want to learn the more they going to learn. . . . You wait ’til they think they ready to work.

38 Kenneth Tobin

They’ll come to you. You don’t have to come to them. They’ll come to you. (Tyrone) When he was at school Mark had his head on the desk, seemingly in a deep sleep. Anytime I walked past I shook him to consciousness and redirected him to commence work. That often necessitated getting him paper and pencil. Throughout the chemistry course Mark rarely brought materials with him to class or participated in assigned activities. On the two occasions he completed a test he obtained almost 100 percent. Mark clearly knew more chemistry than anyone in the class and was not challenged by the activities I set. Mark’s actions in staying away from class and refusing to participate might be interpreted as a sign of his rejection of an educational system that was not responsive either to his interests or needs. Unlike many of his peers, Mark sat at the front of the class and never was disruptive or discourteous. He did not explain why he stayed away from school, nor why he failed to participate. Perhaps answers to the paradoxes raised by Mark’s lack of participation reside in his life away from school. Unsettled lives Nicole really don’t care about school because her parents are gone and her grandmother is gone. And those are three people that she really loved in her life. And now she really doesn’t have any more love in her heart. She really doesn’t care . . . even though she’s a teenager, and she’s almost grown, she’s acting a little older than she is. . . . You’re not supposed to just be a 16-year-old acting like you’re a 34-year-old, like you’ve got to maintain two jobs and 10 kids. She has to be able to lay back and relax sometimes. (Tyrone) From the first day I was in the class Nicole caught my attention. She was Muslim and wore a headscarf that covered her neck, ears, and hair, and a dress that was loose fitting so as not to reveal the shape of her body. Her behavior in class was erratic and she was extremely volatile. The day prior to my beginning to teach the class, while I was observing the regular teacher, Nicole initiated a dispute with a fellow female that ended in violence as the two traded punches and tore at one another’s hair and clothing. The violence was broken up by NTAs as they dragged the screaming, kicking and punching protagonists from the classroom. My heart was pounding. Everything happened so quickly and I had not intervened and nor had the regular teacher. Neither of us anticipated the fight and I was astonished that two females were involved in such a violent exchange. I was determined that nothing like this would occur when I was teaching.

Challenges of urban science education 39

Although this resolution was actualized, at no time was I able to relax. The threat of violence was a constant worry for me. Although Nicole was usually in the building early, she rarely came to class on time, preferring instead to roam the hallways, arriving about 15 minutes late, if at all. One morning she entered the classroom late and began to speak loudly to Kamica who was seated and working. I asked Nicole to quietly take a seat whereupon she exploded with anger, cursed at me, and left the classroom, slamming the door as she exited. Unsure of the best course of action I conferred with the regular classroom teacher who recommended suspension. He handed me a pink slip and I left the room to do what had to be done. The coordinator of the Incentive SLC agreed “A five-day suspension is necessary,” as she wrote on the pink slip she had taken from me. “No,” I said, “I will not have Nicole out of school. She needs to come back to my class.” The coordinator was surprised but supported my decision and a subsequent request to meet with Nicole’s guardian. Two days after Nicole’s stormy exit from my classroom the guardian, a cousin, took time off work to meet with me. “She’s been out of control since she was five,” the cousin said when I explained what had happened. “This is typical of her behavior at home too.” The guardian then gave an account of how Nicole came to live with her grandmother at five years of age following the death of her unmarried teenage mother. Two years later her grandmother died and Nicole became a ward of her older cousin. Now, Nicole supports herself through part-time employment in a shoe shop. During the conference Nicole was agreeable, readily accepted my accounts of her behavior, and made no effort to justify her explosive practices. She agreed to isolate herself from her female friends and participate fully in class work. However, despite her assurances during the conference, Nicole was consistently disruptive and her attendance continued to be sporadic. In her interactions with me Nicole always seemed close to the edge and could become explosive within an instant. When her explosive strategy ‘kicked in’ she enacted a routine that was well honed in her interactions with others in the home, street and workplace. Nicole’s explosive strategy of action (Swidler, 1986) was probably enacted in class without conscious awareness and is part of a cultural toolkit developed while surviving in a world in which she was suddenly thrust into adulthood while still a child. Parental involvement They parents don’t know what they doing. So they parents be thinking they doin’ good. And if you call home and let the parents know what they doing and they parents start talking to them maybe they can get it in their head and make them stop doin’ things they do in school. (Tyrone)

40 Kenneth Tobin

Unlike almost everyone else in the class, Kamica completed most of her assignments and her attendance was reasonably good. Like her peers she was slow to show any signs of trust or respect for me and did not construct me as a teacher or herself as a learner (with respect to me). Kamica always arrived early at school and steadfastly ignored my greeting of “Good morning,” when I unlocked the door to the classroom. When I endeavored to interact with Kamica, usually she ignored me by refusing to respond, often turning her head or body away from me, and if pressed to respond she sometimes retaliated with verbal abuse. Usually she did not come to class until after it had started and when she arrived she conformed to the class norm of talking to peers and not making much of an effort to get ready for learning. Kamica regarded me as a bad teacher because I did not give complete explanations and taught above her head. When I suggested to Kamica that I call her mother she jumped at the chance and immediately wrote down the telephone number. Unlike other students who often lied about the whereabouts of a parent or guardian Kamica explained that her mother was at the office and would be there if I called. I contacted the parent within minutes and asked for her assistance in helping Kamica reach her potential. I explained that Kamica was not working well with me and appeared to resent my presence in the classroom. In a pleasant exchange the mother sought to understand the problem and suggested that it could be resolved if Kamica and I both made an effort. I was surprised by the suggestion that the problems were partly attributable to me but resolved to meet Kamica more than half way. The day after the call, striking differences occurred in Kamica’s participation in class. She accepted me as her teacher and asked questions when she did not understand. In a journal entry Kamica made the following comments: For starters, I’m really starting to enjoy working in this class. I really enjoy working on projects where I work by myself or with a small group of people. Throughout the time that Dr. Tobin has been teaching our class we have done lots of projects. Kamica’s journal entry went on to describe labs that she enjoyed, including an investigation of a group of elements from the periodic table (the inert gases), an electrostatics demonstration that bent water, and a lab in which chemical reactions produced colorful precipitates. Notably, she did not enjoy the follow-up chromatography lab. Kamica concluded her journal entry with some anticipation: “Well I can’t wait to see what other labs we do, but I hope they are fun too. I do think I will enjoy them.” Some of Kamica’s practices did not change appreciably, such as her disposition to socialize with others and a tendency to participate best in

Challenges of urban science education 41

activities with high levels of teacher control. Kamica wanted to learn facts and remember them for the test. She also wanted to do laboratory activities that were of a recipe type with certain outcomes and specific directions to follow. Efforts to foster problem solving and curiosity were met by resistance from Kamica and many of her peers.

Cascades of events Mostly everybody from Incentive, mainly from this corridor is West Philly, right here, mostly. If not you might be from Southwest Philly. Mostly everybody at Incentive is either from them two. So everybody mainly know each other from they neighborhood. (Tyrone) If the science classroom is regarded as a cultural field with porous boundaries, it is apparent that students bring to the classroom culture produced in other fields, such as in their homes and the streets (Anderson, 1999; Sewell, 1999). Since many of the students in the science classroom are from similar neighborhoods, it is not surprising that some classroom interactions are governed by street and neighborhood culture rather than the rules of the classroom. Escalating problems When I spoke quietly to Jamal about talking during a test he angrily announced that he had finished the test and, therefore, it was acceptable for him to talk to others, exchange papers, and relax. I had several options. I could speak to Jamal outside, try to continue the discussion quietly, or interact with him publicly. Each option was fraught with problems. If I asked him to step outside and he refused to do so then the incident would escalate significantly; resulting in detention or suspension for him, kudos from his peers for resisting my authority, and for me, a loss of respect because I would appear weak. If I spoke quietly to him and appealed to his sense of reason and good citizenship the expectation would be for him to respect me as his teacher, adhere to the rules of the classroom, and desist from distracting others. However, his actions suggested that he was unlikely to quiet down. The option of having a public discussion was unacceptable to me because it would disrupt students from completing the test and provide a forum in which more problems could emerge. A final alternative was to walk away from Jamal and ignore his efforts to be disruptive. This alternative only seemed to forestall an inevitable next occurrence of unacceptable behavior. Having to think through these options took only a fraction of a second, but probably it was too long. I asked Jamal to step into the hallway and he

42 Kenneth Tobin

refused, shouting that I was unreasonable. Now I was in the position I had tried to avoid; of having to resolve a more serious problem. Events were to cascade on me before I could address this problem. Potential violence As Greg entered the room fifteen minutes late I motioned to him to sit at a table on which I had placed a test paper. He ignored my gesture, flashed a defiant glare my way, and sat at a table on which there were no papers. To avoid confrontation I picked up the test papers, handed them to Greg, and continued my surveillance of the class. Having shown the class that he could sit where he chose, Greg initiated a loud conversation with Kamica who was seated directly behind him. The conversation was not test-related and as I approached them Greg raised his voice and declared he could speak when and for as long as he chose. Immediately I asked him to step outside to talk to me. He refused and cautioned me to “back off and get yo’ ass out o’ my face man!” Events were unfolding at too rapid a pace for me to predict or to cope with adequately. I decided to think things through as Rasheen tugged at my arm and whispered. “You need to back off, man. Don’t do anything where one of these brothers will beat you up real bad. They ain’t worried about no police. Back off!” Unlike other conversations involving the students, Rasheen’s words were quiet, personal, and unambiguous. For a moment I felt afraid. His message was clear: back off or risk possible dire consequences. The classes at City High were ‘event full’ and there were no ‘time outs’ as the cascade continued. Patrick beckoned to me impatiently. For the past three weeks he had been in a hyperactive state. He constantly recited rap lyrics and when I came close enough to him he appeared to taunt me and positioned his body as if to engage in a boxing match. On every occurrence I avoided physical contact and encouraged him to sit down and resume his work. Usually he was responsive, but clowned to the class as he continued to chant his lyrics. Perhaps sensing my vulnerability Patrick seized this moment to express his disdain for me not providing him with immediate assistance. “I feel dissed when you do that man! This ain’t negotiable. I ain’t doin’ nuthin’ else!” With that Patrick slammed the desk and ceased working on the test. I sensed he would provoke me until I snapped. He and Greg exchanged grins and I had a sinking feeling of inevitability. As I pondered what to do, Nicole burst into the room calling out to Kamica as she entered. I asked Nicole to be silent and she berated me in a rapid-fire burst of eloquence (which I could not understand but was relieved to hear). Quickly, but with some difficulty, I removed Nicole from the classroom and re-located her in a nearby computer room where she

Challenges of urban science education 43

began to work diligently on the test. On this occasion Nicole’s outburst had worked in my favor and allowed me to avoid a serious incident with Jamal, Patrick and Greg. Immediately Nicole began to work on the test and it was apparent that when she was away from her peers she could be motivated and had less reason to show her disrespect for me. Free of the volatility of the cascading events of the classroom I organized a conference with the three boys and the SLC coordinator. The students were determined to cede me no power and to do what they wanted in my class because they could do it. They showed no concern about possible suspension. Their unstated rationale was based on street code – they were bigger, stronger and demanded my respect and acceptance that they could do as they wished. I declined to sign pink slips that would have resulted in a five-day suspension for each boy and wondered if my failure to act was a further sign to them of a teacher who was afraid and without power.

Looking back Some teachers just show you straight off how to do it. And you never learn like that because it’s like they did then the answer for you. But him he’ll ask you certain questions about the problem first, so you’re thinking about it. Then he’ll ask you, “Well, could you do it this way?” and have you thinking about it until you come up with your own answer. Then he’ll tell you if you got it right or if you got it wrong. If not, then you keep thinking about it, doing what you got to do. (Tyrone) Tyrone’s math teacher is cool and it is this status that affords him the right to teach students like those in Incentive. He is an African-American male, in his twenties, and a graduate of City High. Although he is not certified to teach math he is highly regarded by his students as an effective teacher. So, what must I do to earn the right to be regarded as teacher for these students? In one semester I was unable to create the essential social capital (Bourdieu, 1986) with most of these students. For example, as well as teaching them science I endeavored to discuss basketball and football with them but to no avail; usually they ignored my efforts. I felt invisible and disrespected. What I did not appreciate at the time was the significance of them ‘dissing’ me as a way to earn currency among their peers. My efforts to reach out to students provided more opportunities for them to disrespect me and thereby to earn more respect from their peers. Perhaps I was too proactive in trying to build social capital and too vigilant in trying to elicit their participation in my class. Perhaps I could have followed Tyrone’s advice to let them come to me when they were ready to be taught.

44 Kenneth Tobin

Three major breakthroughs in my theorizing allowed me to improve my teaching at City High. First, the concept of habitus (Bourdieu, 1990), a set of dispositions to act in particular ways in specific contexts, was of significance. I was aware that teaching is a form of knowledge that gets enacted. What you think about, or reflection on action, is not teaching, even though the conceptual objects formed while reflecting on teaching might provide a basis for enacting changes in teaching (Roth and Tobin, 2002). A teaching habitus is a set of practices that enables teaching without conscious thought about every action. Habitus reveals itself to a teacher when it breaks down and I became acutely aware of many aspects of my teaching when things went wrong. My experience at City High was evidence that I did not have a sense of the game (as it was played there) and I could not foresee the unfolding events, had little room to maneuver, and did not seamlessly enact the right practices just in time. In contrast, I often had to consciously reflect on my practices and their likely consequences, at which time, teaching ceased and the events of the classroom passed me by. Anderson’s (1999) ethnography of street life and the culture used by African Americans from Philadelphia to successfully navigate their streets and neighborhoods had implications for my lack of success as a science teacher. Whereas I tried to set up an activity with the object of students becoming scientifically literate, the students used the opportunity to seek the respect of their peers. One key way to do this was to show disrespect for those in authority. Once I was aware that respect was the currency of the realm, almost everything about my identity as a teacher changed. I had not realized the extent to which the code of the street would bleed into my classroom. Significantly, I did not know the rules of navigating the streets and the central role of respect in youth subculture in Philadelphia. From that moment on my planning focused on earning social capital and denying students opportunities to be disrespectful to me. Now I focus on building social capital in one-on-one interactions. I approach students in my own way and do not set out to engage them if they show any inclination to back off as I approach. I have followed Tyrone’s advice assiduously and do not push myself on students who appear not to want to learn or interact with me. I have learned how to breach the street code when it disrupts the learning of others without catalyzing a cascade of events with increasing consequences. By studying the different cultural practices enacted in the classroom I have developed a better understanding of what to expect from students and I can now predict when I may have to intervene. I know how to act decisively and, to the extent possible, adopt practices that do not escalate disputes in which students feel disrespected in front of their peers. Sewell (1999) conceptualized culture as a system of referents that guide actions within fields of practice. Culture is enacted, produced, and resisted at nodes that are distributed spatially and temporally within fields. Differ-

Challenges of urban science education 45

ent culture can be enacted at different nodes. For example, some nodes, such as the chalkboard are ideal for using a scientific discourse that consists of language, gestures, written notes, and diagrams. At other nodes, such as one-on-one interactions, it is useful to talk the language of the students, to the extent possible (Tobin et al., in press). Small groups provide opportunities for a teacher to be a central participant who practices science, allowing students to learn at his or her elbow. However, in groups students are with others like those with whom they interact on the streets and in their neighborhood. Here the potential is greatest to enact strategies of action that do not belong in the classroom. Some of these will support the learning of science and others will disrupt learning for the actor and others who are close by. I try to anticipate nonproductive strategies of action and bring them to the attention of the students when they are deleterious to learning. Breaching disruptive strategies of action seems to be the best way to avoid the maintenance of dysfunctional learning environments. To do this without creating resentment and showing disrespect for students requires decisive action on my part and sufficient social capital so that the students do not resist in the way they did when I first taught in the Incentive SLC. One-on-one interactions have the greatest potential to mediate the learning of students, but there is usually only one teacher and many students. If students will assume roles as teachers and if more students will buy into the activity of science education and abandon the goal of earning the respect of peers, then there is a greater likelihood that a community can grow to sustain the learning of science in urban schools. Our research has shown the potential of aligning the doing of science with the goal of earning the respect of peers (Elmesky, 2001; Seiler, 2002). Teaching and learning are always mediated by factors that extend beyond what teachers and students do. As is apparent in cultural historical activity theory (Cole and Engeström, 1993), numerous factors mediate the connection between a learner and the attainment of particular goals. Attention must be given to many types of rules that constrain all participants and within them the contradictions that might be resolved. There is a necessity to overview from many vantage points the potential of rules to oppress and afford individual and collective action toward agreed-upon goals. Also, within a community attention should be directed toward the division of labor and the extent to which tools can be accessed equitably to afford learning. There were times as I taught the students from Incentive that I felt I was failing them. Such a view is understandable and many who observed me teach might concur. However, many contradictions militated against the enacted curriculum achieving its primary mission of educating students in ways that were socially transformative. As a teacher-researcher I had agency (Sewell, 1992) to act in ways that were of my own choosing, but for the most part I was locked into a system that

46 Kenneth Tobin

reproduced Haberman’s pedagogy of poverty. Breaching this cycle of reproduction will be no easy matter because efforts to remove specific contradictions might introduce new ones. Further research in urban science classrooms is needed to create stepping stones toward a just and socially transformative science education.

Acknowledgements The research in this chapter is supported by the National Science Foundation under Grant No. REC-0107022. Any opinions, findings, and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this chapter are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the National Science Foundation.

References Anderson, E. (1999) Code of the Street: Decency, Violence, and the Moral Life of the Inner City. New York: W.W. Norton. Bourdieu, P. (1986) The forms of capital. In J. G. Richardson (ed.), Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education. New York: Greenwood Press, pp. 241–258. Bourdieu, P. (1990) The Logic of Practice. Cambridge: Polity Press. Cole, M. and Engeström, Y. (1993) A cultural-historical approach to distributed cognition. In G. Salomon (ed.), Distributed Cognitions: Psychological and Educational Considerations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 1–46. Elmesky, R. (2001) Struggles of agency and structure as cultural worlds collide as urban African-American youth learn physics, doctoral dissertation, The Florida State University. Guba, E. and Lincoln, Y. S. (1989) Fourth Generation Evaluation. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Haberman, M. (1991) The pedagogy of poverty versus good teaching. Phi Delta Kappan, 73(4), 290–294. Roth, W. M. and Tobin, K. (2002) At the Elbow of Another: Learning to Teach by Coteaching. New York: Peter Lang. Seiler, G. (2002) A critical look at teaching, learning, and learning to teach science in an inner city, neighborhood high school, doctoral dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Sewell, W. H. (1992) A theory of structure: Duality, agency, and transformation. American Journal of Sociology, 98(1), 1–29. Sewell, W. H. (1999) The concept(s) of culture. In V. E. Bonnell and L. Hunt (eds), Beyond the Cultural Turn. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, pp. 35–61. Swidler, A. (1986) Culture in action: Symbols and strategies. American Sociological Review, 51(2), 273–286. Tobin, K., Elmesky, R. and Carambo, C. (2002). Learning environments in urban science classrooms: Contradictions, conflict and the reproduction of social

Challenges of urban science education 47 inequality. In S. C. Goh and S. K. Myint (eds), Studies in Educational Learning Environment: An International Perspective. Singapore: World Scientific Publishing Co., pp. 101–129. Tobin, K., Seiler, G. and Smith, M. W. (1999) Educating science teachers for the sociocultural diversity of urban schools. Research in Science Education, 29(1), 68–88.

Chapter 3

Leading by example within a collaborative staff Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

Introduction I’m supposed to be the ‘lead by example’ person in the department and I just felt really uncomfortable with what I was doing. I guess that is what I am doing now, trying to set a bit of an example. (Mr Cresswell, Interview 4) As head of his science department, Mr Cresswell (pseudonyms are used throughout this chapter) felt obliged to set an example for his colleagues by changing his practice. Unsurprisingly, teachers who lead by example are ‘likely to have a positive influence upon the larger school community because they take the risk to provide a constant, visible model of persistence, hope, and enthusiasm’ (Barth, 2001, p. 447). Over our five face-toface interviews with Mr Cresswell, he had expressed dissatisfaction with his previous traditional teaching style that tended to bore those students who were not intellectually challenged. Yet in the classes we observed, Mr Cresswell appeared to be a transformed teacher leader – one who was committed to student-centred learning and strategies that he perceived to be relevant and engaging, as well as providing his students with opportunities for success. As we observed other classes and spoke to teachers within the science department, we came to believe that Mr Cresswell’s changing teaching practice influenced both students and staff. For us, Mr Cresswell was the sort of leader that Senge was referring to when he wrote: we are coming to believe that leaders are those people who ‘walk ahead’, people who are genuinely committed to deep change in themselves and in their organizations. They lead through developing new skills, capabilities, and understandings. And they come from many places within the organization. (1996, p. 45)

Leading by example 49

Now Senge was not concerned with teacher leadership directly. In fact, the study of teacher leadership, with its antecedents from the vast literature base in leadership generally and school leadership specifically, has only recently begun to emerge (Silva et al., 2000). Two notable areas of concern here are that there has been a surprising lack of research devoted to understanding leadership practices in secondary schools (Leithwood, et al., 1999), and the voices of teachers have been conspicuously missing from this literature (Silva, et al., 2000). By accounting for Mr Cresswell’s teaching and leadership practices in this chapter, we hope to begin to address these shortcomings. More specifically, the aim of this chapter is to relate Mr Cresswell’s practices to the emerging literature on teacher leadership so that we might come to a better understanding of what it means for a head of department to lead by example. But, first, what is teacher leadership?

Teacher leadership The desirable push to refocus school leadership on what happens in classrooms was tagged the third wave1 of teacher leadership by Silva et al. (2000). As Sergiovanni and Starratt explained: Teacher leadership involves the experimentation and examination of more powerful learning activities with and for students, in the service of enhanced student productions and performances of knowledge and understanding. Based on this leadership with and of students, teacher leaders invite other teachers to similar engagements with students in the learning process. (1998, p. 149) Teacher leaders, then, are committed to improving their practice by engaging in classroom trials of activities and approaches designed to enhance student learning outcomes. Not only do teacher leaders commit themselves to personal professional learning, but also they are likely to model their orientation to learning and practice for their colleagues (Dimmock and Lee, 2000). However, this is not a one-way process. Teacher leaders also are likely to help build a collaborative culture among staff so that resources, including ideas, can be shared for the benefit of all students (Dimmock and Lee, 2000). While collaborative communities might be characterized by, ‘reflective dialogue, shared learning, inquiry modes, and sustained teacher talk about student learning’ (ibid., p. 351), collaboration should not lead to groupthink nor should collaborators devalue individuality (see Hargreaves, 1994). Limerick and Cunnington (1993) emphasized the interdependence of members within a collaborative culture in their argument that collaboration has superseded a

50 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

focus on teamwork in organizations. They asserted that collaborative individualism, ‘stresses the need for individuals to work together with others towards a common vision and mission. But it also stresses their emancipation, their freedom from groups, organisations and social institutions’ (ibid., p. 115). Similarly, Dimmock and Lee (2000) introduced the term connectivity to convey a sense of operational interdependence between teachers within a collaborative culture. For example, they suggested that, ‘connectivity between teachers working as teams in an ongoing cycle of feedback, support, and evaluation is conducive to multilevel classrooms reflecting student-centred learning and the continuous assessment of student progress’ (ibid., p. 356). So teacher leaders, ‘tend to be individualistic, collaborating with others intuitively and emphatically through a shared vision of the possible’ (Limerick and Cunnington, 1993, p. 142). This is a very different notion of leadership than that which is represented by a leader–follower binary, where the leader sets the standards and practices that others try to achieve and follow.

Methodology This chapter reports on a sample of data from a larger interpretive study (Erickson, 1986, 1998) about teacher change and leadership at several schools in North Queensland. While we focus here on Mr Cresswell’s discursive practices in and about his classroom, our interpretations were informed by our observations of other classrooms and discussions we held with science teachers and students at his school, as well as the emerging literature on teacher leadership (see also Ritchie and Rigano, 2001, 2002). Context and procedure Our study site was a small to medium-sized (i.e. 530 students) rural high school in North Queensland, Australia. We observed Mr Cresswell’s Year 10 science class on five occasions over a three-month period. This class was co-taught by Mr Jones. Both teachers were very experienced and each had been at the school for more than ten years. Unlike the other three Year 10 classes at the school, Mr Cresswell’s class was a specially selected class that featured students who had previously demonstrated unsatisfactory progress in science. Mr Cresswell had identified these students as those who were doomed to failure unless a different approach with greater support was adopted, justifying the allocation of an extra teacher. The students in this somewhat experimental class engaged in different learning activities from the other classes. Their work was essentially self-paced and mostly individualized. Neither Mr Cresswell nor Mr Jones adopted a controlling or dominant role in the class – this was a learning environment uncharacteristic of

Leading by example 51

traditional science classes where the teacher dominates classroom discourse (see Gallagher, 1993; Prawat, 1996). Upon entering this class it was difficult to locate either teacher at first glance – they worked alongside their students rather than in front of them. Mr Cresswell described the classroom learning environment as follows: It’s a fairly active situation, running around, it’s a dual teaching arrangement which is really good. One of us takes on the role of marking or checking, we don’t call it marking because in the end they all have to get it all right before they can go on to the next topic. It all has to be complete and well done before they can move on to the next thing. So one person is out there monitoring that they have got it right, that it’s complete and they are ready to go on to the next thing. The other person tends to race around and do all the spot-checking and crisis management and a bit of the behaviour management. It’s a trial and I think it’s something that will work with the full range of classes that we’ve got in the school. (Interview 1) In Mr Cresswell’s class we observed students engaging in activities on reflection and refraction of light (e.g. making a periscope), and disease (e.g. designing a public health poster). The observations were conducted in the laboratory, classroom and computer laboratory. We also observed one of the other Year 10 classes for five lessons. This class, taught by Mr Volker, catered for students who had demonstrated a wide range of learning outcomes in the previous year. As deputy principal, Mr Volker was also a very experienced teacher. Our interpretations of Mr Volker’s discursive practices have been reported elsewhere (Ritchie and Rigano, 2002). We interviewed Mr Cresswell at the conclusion of each lesson. Mr Jones spoke to us informally during lessons and he kindly agreed to be interviewed towards the end of our study period. Mr Cresswell was interviewed in the science staff room. During our interviews there, we met three other science teachers who were drawn into our conversations occasionally – usually upon an invitation from Mr Cresswell. We also conducted a series of interviews with Mr Volker in his office, away from the science staff room. Following each observed lesson we interviewed Mr Cresswell about his practice and, in particular, his raison d’être for his actions. We started each of our interviews2 by inviting Mr Cresswell to identify positive aspects of each observed lesson, and initially we mostly controlled the trajectory of the conversations through our use of probing and clarifying questions. The study was conducted mid-1999, shortly after the publication of the new science syllabus (Queensland School Curriculum Council, 1999).

52 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

Even though some schools in the State had piloted a trial version of the syllabus, the study site school was not required to implement the syllabus for three years. Nevertheless, staff at the school had been trying various student-centred approaches including activities designed for student engagement at different levels (i.e. multi-levelling) and authentic assessment techniques – features of the new syllabus – prior to its publication.

Interpretation of Mr Cresswell’s leadership practices During our fourth interview with Mr Cresswell, he declared, “I do feel passionately about the need for change. I know that what we would like to do in this school is produce a much better product as far as student science learning is concerned.” Within just two sentences, Mr Cresswell hinted at what he and his staff valued most (i.e. student success) and he expressed his emotional commitment to improving his (and other teachers within his department) practice for the benefit of his students. Through our classroom observations and interviews at Mr Cresswell’s school, we came to believe that Mr Cresswell was committed to personal learning; he demonstrated a caring ethic for his students; and he encouraged interdependence (or connectivity) between staff within a collaborative culture. Commitment to personal learning Over the five interviews with Mr Cresswell, we heard about his trial with student-centred learning. In relation to the class he co-taught with Mr Jones, he remarked, “We are trialling things. We might still be pitching [the activities] at one level (i.e. satisfactory), but we are seeing who can do it and who can’t and we are establishing a bit of a base knowledge about how students tackle student-centred learning” (Interview 2). Reference to trials and developing a base knowledge suggested to us that Mr Cresswell was engaging in some form of action research. This experience was to guide decisions made concerning all students in subsequent years at the school. Perhaps trying to avoid the jargon associated with action research projects, Mr Cresswell did not mention the word research in any of the interviews. In our last interview then, we asked whether he considered himself to be a researcher. He replied: I’m trying to find answers. I like to talk to people like Gordon [i.e. Mr Jones] and Nola [an experienced female science teacher] and others to get their opinions. I like to pose questions on the list site [a web board for the Queensland Science Teachers Association] and see what sort of responses comes back. I like to put up ideas of my own and see what responses I get to that . . . I firmly believe that we’ve got to look

Leading by example 53

at what we have been doing now, what has been the traditional mode for teaching science and how students learnt it, and see if we can’t improve on it. . . . Part of my professional responsibility is to try and improve what has been happening. (Interview 5) To improve science learning at his school, Mr Cresswell not only discussed ideas with staff within his school, but also sought the views of other professional teachers. With the aid of Internet communication his geographical isolation did not restrict his attempts to engage in professional learning opportunities with his colleagues in metropolitan and even interstate locations. “I guess I do a bit of surfing on the net and I look up what’s happening,” he admitted (Interview 3). Mr Cresswell keenly advised us of the multi-level3 progress made at a southern school and the possible ramifications that those experiences might have at his school. Even though Mr Cresswell advised us that the decision to explore classroom applications of student-centred learning was made internally, his use of the Internet informed him of others’ attempts to implement different approaches to learning as well as receive feedback about his ongoing trial. Staff at the study site highly valued Mr Cresswell’s contribution. For example, Mr Volker commented, “A very thoughtful person, Cliff [Mr Cresswell]. There is a lot of experience in the science department here” (Interview 2). Mr Cresswell’s passion for his personal learning via Internet communications with colleagues was transferred to student learning. We observed one lesson where students were required to design a computer-generated public health poster using community resources and web sites. The purpose of the task was described as follows: To get the kids to do a decent poster, they have really got to think about the important issues. I could tell them that here are the four main things that you need to really be aware of in the case of the management of the disease hepatitis or how to prevent scabies from roaring through your school. I think it’s a really good exercise to read through all of the pamphlets, find out the information and come up with the key points. They are making decisions about what is important and what is not important and how to succinctly say that in a poster. They are learning something about the disease, but they are also learning how to extract information, analyze and summarize it. Just making a little poster has a hell of a lot of skills involved in that. (Mr Cresswell, Interview 3) We did not observe the forthcoming unit on astronomy whereby the students were required to access information from the ‘nine planets’ web site.

54 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

However, Mr Cresswell explained, “It just makes sense to develop a couple of tasks where there is a little bit of browsing involved. I think that is a really important skill for the kids to learn as well” (Interview 2). Even though Mr Cresswell recognized that he had formal leadership responsibilities in his department, these were not enacted in the form of writing memos or engaging in the systematic clinical supervision of his staff. Rather, as we elaborate later, his own development and refinement of classroom practices for his students, as well as the experiences of other staff, became the subject of staff room conversations. These staff appeared to be genuinely interested in changing practice. This is in keeping with the argument put by Silva et al. that teacher leaders ‘continue their work by finding spaces and vehicles for them to co-participate in change as a means of encouraging and supporting change in others’ (2000, p. 798). They also ‘share expertise and bring new ideas to the school’ (Leithwood et al., 1999). It appears from this, and our observations of Mr Cresswell’s classes, that facilitators of change are successful when they see themselves as colearners rather than hierarchical leaders (Silva et al., 2000). Similarly, Johnson and Hynes asserted that, ‘leader as teacher is not about teaching other people one’s own vision, but rather it is about fostering learning for everyone’ (1997, p. 110). In Mr Cresswell’s case, he created learning opportunities for teachers through his support for and contribution to open staff room conversations about the perceived impact of classroom trials of particular innovations. Also, Covey noted that people who have a passion for learning will have enduring influence – ‘such learning leaders will not resist change; they will embrace it’ (1996, p. 150). And finally, Barth recognized that a powerful relationship existed between learning and leading. He argued that: The most salient learning for most of us comes when we don’t know how to do it, when we want to know how to do it, and when our responsibility for doing it will affect the lives of many others. This is where teacher leadership and professional development intersect. (2001, p. 445) Mr Cresswell was not always innovative. During Interview 3 Mr Cresswell identified how his more traditional teacher-centred approach to teaching, only five years earlier, bored his students because they were not challenged: I wasn’t necessarily challenging them with the problem solving. Really we were just giving them a test at the end of the term and assumed that they had learned how to process information. The ones that could do it by virtue of their own innate ability got As and all the others didn’t.

Leading by example 55

But because he was committed to seeking alternative ways of providing relevant and meaningful learning opportunities for his students, his developing understanding of the possible impact of outcomes-based education excited him: Yeah, I’m fairly excited about the concept of outcomes-based education. I like the idea of trying to work with the students, that it is a student-centred approach. Standing out at the front of the room and telling the kids all of the things that they need to know, when in fact a third or less of them really understand or do need to know – that is not a good way to go. I’ve tossed it around in my head a real lot about how I am going to manage a classroom where I have just myself . . . and kids working at their own level and at their own pace and being constantly challenged enough to keep going and pushing on and improving themselves. I’m excited about it. (Mr Cresswell, Interview 2) Throughout Mr Cresswell’s comments, an ethic of caring for his students’ learning outcomes emerged. Caring ethic According to Starratt, an ethic of caring postulates a level of caring that honors the dignity of each person. . . . This ethic reaches beyond concerns with efficiency, which can easily lead to using human beings as merely the means to some larger purpose of productivity, such as an increase in the district’s average scores on standardized tests or the lowering of per-pupil costs. (1991, p. 197) Honouring the dignity of each of his students was an important basis for Mr Cresswell’s support for outcomes-based models of education. We had observed Mr Cresswell’s attempts to improve the outcomes for those students who had previously failed in science. Building on his experience with this trial, Mr Cresswell articulated his vision for how his trial could be adapted across his department: I don’t see how you can use the new syllabus in any other way but that style of learning where kids are working at something to get success at one level and then when they have demonstrated that success move on to something else. And since you don’t have a homogeneous bunch of 30 kids all exactly the same, you’re going to have kids working on all sorts of different activities still within the one topic, keeping that sort

56 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

of general theme going. They might even be doing the same experiments but what they are doing with the results might be totally different depending on whether they are at level 3-type stuff where they are just data collecting or whether they are at level 6 where they are at the higher end, taxonomy-type of thing, analysis and synthesis sort of stuff. I have a picture in my head of what it looks like and it looks like chaos but hopefully it will be meaningful for the kids. They will be working at something that is challenging for them at the level that they are at and the readiness that they are at and doing things that motivate them. (Mr Cresswell, Interview 1, emphasis added) So, despite the chaotic image of students in heterogeneous classes working at different levels, Mr Cresswell was committed to implementing these changes because he believed that such an approach would be more meaningful to students and that this would motivate them to succeed. Mr Volker also recognized Mr Cresswell’s commitment to improving students’ chances for experiencing school success as follows: I think kids like to succeed and do well at what they do. . . . The thing with Cliff [Mr Cresswell] working next door, lots of kids who were slow at their learning and never finished anything. If they can finish in their own time, spend a bit more time getting this right and getting it done. (Mr Volker, Interview 2) Other staff within the department shared this ethic of caring. Previously, we have argued that Mr Volker had established a similar ethic of care for his students (Ritchie and Rigano, 2002). As well, Mr Cresswell asserted, “People [at this school] are prepared, no matter how long they have been teaching to put in a lot of effort, to make it right for the kids, to give a good product to the kids, or to give the kids the best opportunities” (Interview 5). Unsurprisingly, the link between an established ethic of care within the classroom and student academic achievement has been reported previously. As van Sickle and Spector concluded, ‘caring is an essential component in schools that are considered to be successful based on issues such as attendance and performance on assessment tools’ (1996, p. 450).

Connectivity with staff During our interviews and informal conversations with the teachers we were struck by their sense of a shared commitment to their students’ success in science (i.e. caring ethic). In addition to this commitment we

Leading by example 57

recognized that the teachers exercised mutual support for each other in providing better opportunities for their students. In short, there seemed to be a personally and professionally supportive climate for the science staff in which they could try new ideas that might help their students. We were interested in the mechanism of support in this school. Was the support provided from the top (i.e. the principal) down (i.e. to classroom teachers)? Alternatively, was the support generated from within? Mr Volker admitted that, “there is quite a bit of risk-taking that goes on within the school” (Interview 5). According to Hargreaves, ‘risk-taking fosters learning, adaptability and improvement’ (1994, p. 254). One possible reason Mr Volker advanced for teachers’ willingness to take personal risks was that they individually felt secure in trying out new ideas because, ‘we tend to talk a lot amongst ourselves’ (Interview 5). Mr Cresswell also identified their frequent professional conversations as a significant support mechanism for change: We talk about what we are doing in the staff room a lot. There is a lot of dialogue that occurs in the staff room about professional issues. Maybe that is different from other staff rooms where lunchtime conversations are more about the weekends and evenings. I guess we are always evaluating what we are doing and trying to come up with a better way to do it. (Interview 5) This supportive collaborative culture was not a recent reaction to the appointment of the new principal or the publication of the new syllabus. Rather, this, “culture, or that yearning to do something differently or better has been around for a while now. Gordon [i.e. Mr Jones], am I right?” inquired Mr Cresswell during our second interview. Invitations extended to other teachers within the staff room like this were quite usual in our interviews with Mr Cresswell, demonstrating again the style of professional conversation that both Mr Cresswell and Mr Volker believed contributed to such a supportive climate for change. Siskin used the term bonded department to represent a socially cohesive community, ‘where members all work collaboratively with a high degree of commitment toward department goals’ (1994, p. 99). From our observations and discussions with teachers, the science department appeared to be bonded with the head encouraging inclusiveness of, and participation by, staff. In such a department that enjoys high levels of commitment, inclusion and status, ‘teachers find few problems they cannot overcome’ (ibid., p. 135). Through their open staff room conversations individuals would hear of others’ strategies within the school and those practised elsewhere. Importantly, it was their culture; that is, one that emerged spontaneously from themselves (see Hargreaves, 1994). By engaging in professional

58 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

conversations and sharing their classroom experiences with each other, they supported each other for change that they considered beneficial for their students rather than responding to external forces alone. As Cooper cautions, ‘If teachers are told what to be professional about, how, where and with whom to collaborate, and what blueprint of professional conduct to follow, then the culture that follows will be foreign to the setting’ (in Hargreaves, 1994, p. 189). While the teachers were supportive, they adapted shared ideas for their own classes. There was no overt pressure to conform to groupthink or for staff to comply with edicts for change. For example, Mr Volker experimented with alternative assessment protocols that departed from practices in the other Year 10 classes (see Ritchie and Rigano, 2002). Mr Jones also assured us that, “there seemed to be an acceptance that individual teachers could do their own things within guidelines”. And Mr Cresswell acknowledged: Not everyone has thoroughly changed their practice. Every junior science classroom that you go to now you see kids more actively involved in doing things and getting assessed on the work that they are doing in class more and more instead of exams. But there are still teachers who teach in a fairly traditional way. Every science class, people are starting to do things differently and are enjoying the results and are feeling better about what they are doing. (Interview 4) So, while there was a common view that teachers were changing their practice, the pace of change – just like the academic progress of Mr Cresswell’s students – was idiosyncratic. Clearly, Mr Cresswell recognized that teachers needed to change at their own pace and he honoured the contributions made by the staff to student learning. For example, during our fifth interview Mr Cresswell said: I am really conscious of Nola behind me. She has been teaching for a lot of years and she will go home tonight and spend several hours preparing her lessons. I don’t think people are in a rut here. And there would be many teachers that have been teaching as long as Nola (elsewhere) who just do it all from memory every year. Whereas she is not content to take anything for granted, every class is an individual group and she prepares accordingly. Gordon is constantly thinking about the kids he’s got to work with. The respect Mr Cresswell held for other teachers also was demonstrated at our third visit to the school. The first two classes we observed were scheduled in a laboratory. Arriving at the laboratory for our third visit we were

Leading by example 59

greeted by Mr Cresswell who advised that they were now scheduled for a general4 classroom. Early in our post-lesson interview, Steve (i.e. the first named author) asked, “Why did you choose to go to the classroom and not wangle your way back into the lab?” Mr Cresswell’s response not only demonstrated respect for his colleagues, but also showed that his organizational practices were influenced by democratic principles and concern for student learning in all classes: It really was a good-will thing last term that we had the use of the lab for the four lessons (per week). While we had the use of the lab the other teachers had every lesson in a classroom. The topics they were doing last term they didn’t need a lab all the time, but now the other Year 10 classes and Year 9 too, they are all into chemistry and they really need the lab. We can survive what we are going to do this term. Our next unit will be astronomy, we will get on to that next after we’ve done this disease unit. . . . We have six science classes on at the same time and we have three labs, so three classes are always going to be out of a lab. The way that I organized the allocation to the laboratories was that you get two in, two out, but last term we had a special deal going. So now we have to work around, we have got to find ways to fit in what we want to do in the prac stuff. Silva et al. (2000) also noted that teacher leaders nurture collegial relationships in order to facilitate change. They noted that teacher leaders, like Mr Cresswell, held in high esteem the work of peers who contributed to a growth-oriented collaborative relationship. Mr Cresswell’s interest and influence on practice were not limited to the science department. In our fourth interview, Mr Cresswell admitted that the current practice of compartmentalizing subjects in the junior curriculum (i.e. Years 8–10) was artificial and frustrating. He continued: one of the things I have been talking to people about for a couple of years now is an integrated or holistic approach to science education. I have said this to [the principal] a number of times; I really don’t want to retire from this school as a science teacher. I believe the junior curriculum has got to move on from that and we’ve got to change the way we do things. (Interview 4) Unsurprisingly, when we asked Mr Cresswell to comment on an earlier draft of this chapter, eighteen months after our interviews, he brought to our attention his observation that the changes we had attributed to science teachers were becoming more widespread; the school curriculum was indeed heading in the direction that he had articulated. He wrote:

60 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano

The biggest development in the school now is the REAL move forward in re-designing/defining the junior curriculum across the school. Much of the input is coming from the Science and Mathematics department staff who have ‘seen the light’. 2002 will be a very interesting year in the junior curriculum at the school. (Mr Cresswell, personal correspondence, March 2001) Although there has been increasing systemic support for such a reorientation of the junior curriculum across the State since our study, this comment suggested to us that Mr Cresswell believed that the waves of change from the science department epicentre might have created opportunities for school-wide restructuring – heading towards a learningcentred school (Dimmock, 2000). It was not possible to test Mr Cresswell’s statement by seeking corroborating views from such key stakeholders as the principal and other department heads at the school.

Conclusion In this account we have illustrated Mr Cresswell’s teaching and leadership practices at a time when his department was considering the prospects of implementing student-centred approaches to science learning. As we focused on Mr Cresswell, the individual, we interpreted his leadership practices in terms of his personal commitment to learning and the caring ethic he fostered toward learners. But Mr Cresswell worked within a school learning community or, more specifically, a collaborative teaching culture in which his personal actions and beliefs interacted with those of his colleagues both directly and indirectly. What teachers do in their own classrooms ‘is powerfully affected by the outlooks and orientations of the colleagues with whom they work now and have worked in the past’ (Hargreaves, 1994, p. 165). In this respect, we highlighted a third critical component of Mr Cresswell’s practices; that was the connectivity he had established with his staff. Unsurprisingly, our description of this dimension overlapped important aspects of our analysis of Mr Cresswell’s ethic of care. As Hargreaves noted, ‘in this ethic, actions are motivated by concerns for care and nurturance of others and connectedness to others’ (ibid., p. 173). Collectively, our description of these three dimensions were consistent with a third wave conceptualization (or definition) of teacher leadership (cf. Silva et al., 2000). From this perspective, teacher leaders like Mr Cresswell conceptualize school problems in terms of improving student learning outcomes: They adopt collegial and professional, rather than hierarchical, stances in problem solving. . . . Above all, they hold students’ welfare uppermost in their values, believing they are in school primarily to serve the interests of all students. These school leaders are goal-oriented in

Leading by example 61

respect of learning at two levels: they possess a school-wide perspective, viewing the school and parents as a learning community; and they are acutely concerned, through a heightened sense of justice and equity, for the interests of each student and their learning needs. (Dimmock, 1995, p. 290) In the particular context of the study site, Mr Cresswell’s leadership practices appeared to be appropriate and successful. But Mr Cresswell worked with a critical mass of experienced dedicated teachers who not only respected each other, but also shared a deep commitment to improve the learning outcomes of their students. These students were members of the same rural community in which the staff had lived and participated for several years. We hope that this case study of Mr Cresswell’s leadership practices, ‘offers a tool for helping leaders to think about their practice, rather than an abstraction that provides a blueprint for that practice’ (Spillane et al., 2001, p. 27). More importantly, we hope that we have disrupted the leader–follower binary by demonstrating how interdependent teacher leaders’ actions are within a school community. In this respect, all teachers ‘lead by example’.

Notes 1 2 3 4

First and second waves of teacher leadership are manifested in the creation of formal leadership positions, typically appointed by higher status personnel (see Silva et al., 2000). For an example of the interview protocol used, see Rigano and Ritchie (1999). The new syllabus lists student learning outcomes for particular conceptual areas at eight levels. This was a non-specialized classroom characterized by desks and chairs facing towards the front chalkboard.

References Barth, R. S. (2001) Teacher leader. Phi Delta Kappan, 82(6), 443–449. Blase, J. and Anderson, G. (1995) The Micropolitics of Educational Leadership: From Control to Empowerment. London: Cassell. Covey, S. R. (1996) Three roles of the leader in the new paradigm. In F. Hesselbein, M. Goldsmith and R. Beckhard (eds), The Leader of the Future. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 149–159. Dimmock, C. (1995) School leadership: Securing quality teaching and learning. In C. W. Evers and J. D. Chapman (eds), Educational Administration: An Australian Perspective. St Leonards, NSW: Allen and Unwin, pp. 274–295. Dimmock, C. (2000) Designing the Learning-centred School: A Cross-cultural Perspective. London: Falmer Press. Dimmock, C. and Lee, J. C.-K. (2000) Redesigning school-based curriculum leadership: A cross-cultural perspective. Journal of Curriculum and Supervision, 15(4), 332–358.

62 Stephen M. Ritchie and Donna L. Rigano Erickson, F. (1986) Qualitative methods in research on teaching. In M. C. Wittrock (ed.), Handbook of Research on Teaching. 3rd edn. New York: Macmillan, pp. 119–161. Erickson, F. (1998) Qualitative research methods for science education. In B. J. Fraser and K. G. Tobin (eds), International Handbook of Science Education. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer, pp. 1155–1173. Gallagher, J. J. (1993) Secondary science teachers and constructivist practice. In K. Tobin (ed.), The Practice of Constructivism in Science Education. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, pp. 181–191. Hargreaves, A. (1994) Changing Teachers, Changing Times. Teachers’ Work and Culture in the Postmodern Age. London: Cassell. Johnson, J. and Hynes, M. C. (1997) Teaching/learning/leading: Synonyms for change. Action in Teacher Education, XIX(3), 107–119. Leithwood, K., Jantzi, D. and Steinbach, R. (1999) Changing Leadership for Changing Times. Buckingham: Open University Press. Limerick, D. and Cunnington, B. (1993) Managing the New Organization: A Blueprint for Networks and Strategic Alliances. Chatswood, NSW: Business and Professional Publishing. Prawat, R. S. (1996) Learning community, commitment and school reform. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 28, 91–110. Queensland School Curriculum Council (1999) Years 1 to 10 Science Syllabus. Brisbane: QSCC. Rigano, D. L. and Ritchie, S. M. (1999) Learning the craft: A student teacher’s story. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education, 27(2), 127–142. Ritchie, S. M. and Rigano, D. L. (2001) Researcher-participant positioning in classroom research. International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 14(6), 741–756. Ritchie, S. M. and Rigano, D. L. (2002) Discourses about a teacher’s self-initiated change in praxis: Storylines of care and support. International Journal of Science Education, 24(10), 1079–1094. Senge, P. (1996) Leading learning organizations: The bold, the powerful, and the invisible. In F. Hesselbein, M. Goldsmith and R. Beckhard (eds), The Leader of the Future. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 41–57. Sergiovanni, T. J. and Starratt, R. J. (1998) Supervision: A Redefinition. Boston: McGraw-Hill. Silva, D. Y., Gimbert, B. and Nolan, J. (2000) Sliding the doors: Locking and unlocking possibilities for teacher leadership. Teachers College Record, 102(4), 779–804. Siskin, L. S. (1994) Realms of Knowledge: Academic Departments in Secondary Schools. Washington, DC: Falmer Press. Spillane, J. P., Halverson, R. and Diamond, J. B. (2001) Investigating school leadership practice: A distributed perspective. Educational Researcher, 30(3), 23–28. Starratt, R. J. (1991) Building an ethical school: A theory for practice in educational leadership. Education Administration Quarterly, 28(2), 150–184. Van Sickle, M. and Spector, B. (1996) Caring relationships in science classrooms: A symbolic interaction study. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 33(4), 433–453.

Chapter 4

Challenges to practice, constraints on change Managing innovation in a South African township science classroom Jonathan Clark

Introduction This is the story of Nomzamo, a science teacher in South Africa. It involves the students that she teaches, and her colleagues in the staff room, at Yengeni High – a large, over-crowded and under-resourced secondary school, set deep in a South African township. Nomzamo is, by any measure, a remarkable person, a striving purposeful teacher whose professional career has been characterized by a continual seeking out of opportunities to ‘build herself professionally’ (as she puts it). Lately she has been involved with the Science Through Applications Project (or STAP as it is commonly referred to), a curriculum research and development project located at the University of the Western Cape. With its emphasis on student-centred activities and collaborative group work, the STAP materials embody an approach that is markedly different from that generally adopted in South African schools. During the trialling of the STAP materials Nomzamo had the opportunity to meet teachers in other schools. During these visits, she listened to colleagues unanimously pronouncing the programme ‘stimulating and useful’; yet heard too of their difficulties as they sought to shift the emphasis of their pedagogy away from ‘chalk and talk’. And she observed at first hand how teachers, and their students, struggled to develop teaching and learning strategies that allowed them to make fuller use of a more flexible curriculum resource such as STAP. Forewarned, as it were, it is now Nomzamo’s turn. She has agreed to trial the latest draft of STAP’s Grade 9 programme in four classes at Yengeni High. What follows is a sharing of her experiences of a time which saw her confront, often in quite uncompromising ways, the nature of her everyday practice. Yet as we consider Nomzamo’s attempts to manage change in her science classroom, we are reminded of just how much a teacher’s practice can be influenced by the circumstances within which she works. For in the dusty courtyards, bustling corridors and over-crowded classrooms of Yengeni High, there is convincing evidence

64 Jonathan Clark

pointing towards the powerful determining role which context plays in shaping a teacher’s pedagogy. It is in this telling that Nomzamo’s story offers some useful insights into the ways in which a range of contextual factors, grounded in the overall functioning of a school, the actions of her fellow teachers and the responses of her students, can limit and constrain an individual teacher’s attempts to bring about shifts in her pedagogic practice.

The school and staff Teaching, in any context, is constrained by many factors, and this is no more evident than at a time of change, when a teacher grapples with the challenges of bringing innovation into her classroom. Clearly, many of these ‘constraints on practice’ are not unique to a particular educational setting; teachers throughout the world share functional-logistic problems associated with under-resourced and over-crowded classes; poverty and crime; and alienated, under-achieving and poorly motivated students. What is unique then about Nomzamo’s school? Well, perhaps it is its history – for decades urban schools like Yengeni High bore the brunt of the struggle against apartheid education. And it would seem that it is this past that continues to have such a profoundly negative effect on the functioning of the school and Nomzamo’s teaching and her students’ learning. Established in the 1960s, Yengeni High has just under 1,700 students and fifty teachers (a number that includes the principal and all his senior staff). Like all its neighbours, Yengeni High is poorly resourced – the overcrowded classes occupying an assemblage of single-storey brick and prefabricated buildings, a ragtag collection of classrooms of different sizes and all in various states of disrepair. In South African terms, Yengeni High can be characterized as a dysfunctional school and one consequence of the disorderly and even sometimes chaotic environment, is that there are frequent interruptions in the daily programme. An ongoing ‘crisis of authority’ manifests itself in the responses of teachers – who absent themselves from class, and students – whose school attendance is erratic and variable, often from class to class during the school day. Because of this, instructional time remains a commodity in short supply at Yengeni High, and in the absence of a consistent and stable routine, teachers are prevented from establishing anything other than a semblance of learning continuity. In an environment of such diffused authority, Paterson and Fataar (1998) argue that it is possible for teachers to develop an identity that is rooted in the helplessness they feel about being unable to change the schooling context in which they work. In response, they end up employing a discourse that diffuses moral responsibility. The debilitating impact this

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 65

has on teacher moral is evident in the following account Nomzamo gave of the experiences of one of her fellow teachers at Yengeni High: I was thinking of a teacher here, a teacher who was so energetic when she came. Her classroom had posters and drawings, she was a perfect example. The principal would always quote her in the staff room. Now she asks, “Do you want my period in grade 11?” You know, that kind of thing. . . . We could see that she was actually . . . demotivated. What happened is that one time in her classroom with all her nice posters, the people who broke into the class tore off her posters and they were writing things on them . . . you know!? So, she became so demotivated and she stopped doing it. And she was actually asking [before this incident] why are the classrooms so bare, why aren’t you putting up things? Clearly, teaching in such circumstances can be a profoundly debilitating experience and it is hardly surprising then that some teachers are overwhelmed by conditions over which they believe they have no control. The following extract from a journal entry of mine illustrates just how much Nomzamo’s commitment to teaching draws her into a lone stand against what I came to think of as ‘the tide of non-teaching’ that periodically swept over the school: As we cross the courtyard to go to class surrounded by blocks of classrooms we seem to be the only teachers in sight. The kids should be in class, but instead scores of them are milling around shouting and laughing together, the noise they make mingles with the din coming from the classrooms we pass by. We enter the classroom to find most of the kids sitting around engaged in animated conversations, and it takes Nomzamo some time and considerable effort to get them settled down. The clamour of sound from outside continues unabated and, if anything, seems to grow as the period progresses. The only respite in the bedlam around us is after a quarter of an hour when the deputy principal walks around chasing kids back into the classrooms. Peering out of the window behind me, I can see that the number of boys seeking refuge in and around the toilets has grown, and through a broken windowpane the pungent odour of cigarette smoke mingles with what can only be the sweet smell of dagga [marijuana]. Needless to say, once the vice-principal has disappeared, kids reemerge from their classrooms into the sunlight and the noise levels rise once more. Clearly, teaching in these circumstances, is (as for anyone else) an exhausting experience for Nomzamo, and by the end of the lesson, she looks tired and drained from the effort. Heading back to the

66 Jonathan Clark

laboratory, I ask her what was going on today. With a wry laugh Nomzamo explains that most teachers were in the staff room finishing off their report cards. As we walk, I count 12 out of 14 classrooms teacherless. Not all the absent teachers are working on report cards. As Nomzamo explained, “You will find that not everyone is busy with reports, some have finished their reports, but then because they have seen some people not going [to class] then they decided to stay [in the staff room].” The need to complete report cards is used by teachers to justify their absence from class. That none of the ‘control staff’ (as the headmaster and his deputy are known) will intervene defines another limitation in the authority structures at the school. Yet it also points towards another aspect of what is clearly a different conception of what one’s job as a teacher entails. It seems that for many of Nomzamo’s colleagues, teaching is a ‘9 to 5’ job (or more accurately, an ‘8.30 a.m. to 2.30 p.m. job’) and taking work home is not something many teachers will do. Such behaviour raises numerous questions – many of which relate directly to the whole issue of teacher professionalism. This is a highly charged and much debated area that is clouded by what must surely be the mistaken assumption that there is a single all-encompassing concept of ‘the professional teacher’. In light of this, making sense of the role that the occupational culture(s) of teachers plays in aiding or hindering innovation and change may well hinge (in no small part) on developing local concepts of professionalism. And in the context of Yengeni High, I would argue that it reflects directly one of the most damaging consequences of the decades-long education struggle in South Africa – that has created a generation of young teachers whose notions of schooling, and in particular their own roles as teachers, have been severely distorted by their own experiences during those times. Reflecting on Nomzamo’s position at Yengeni High, it seems as if she functions in a state of what Hargreaves (1994) describes as constrained individualism – she has to teach, plan and generally work alone because of situational constraints which present significant barriers to, or discouragement from, doing otherwise. At times, what he terms ‘strategic individualism’ seems aptly to describe the way she actively constructs and creates individualistic patterns of working as a coping strategy to block out the impact of non-teaching around her. For example, on a number of occasions Nomzamo seemed to quite intentionally absent herself from a staff meeting, in order to attend to her class. And, as we saw earlier, she chooses to carry on teaching when virtually all of her colleagues were holed up in the staff room working on their report cards. Whatever else, there is clearly a distinct lack of any real collaborative culture at Yengeni High – by and large, Nomzamo is left to work on her

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 67

own with little support from any of her fellow science teachers as illustrated in one of her interviews: Nomzamo: Okay, what is happening here at Yengeni is that I’ve got a lot of . . . how do you say it? – leeway, or whatever, I do most of the stuff here without having someone watching behind me when I’m doing that kind of a thing. So that I’ve got a lot of . . . Jon: Space . . . Nomzamo: Ya, and as a result . . . I just do things my way, and I just give an account later on. Jon: Do you feel good about that? Nomzamo: Ya, I need that space. But in terms of the support, of other people in the things that I’m trying to do, I’m not getting as much in terms of the help from other people. But in terms of having to ask for permission for this and that. That’s why, when it comes to science, it’s easy for me to make decisions without having had to consult. And later on just bring the thing to the school and the school just agrees. As in other areas of school organization, structures are in place – there is a Head of Department (HOD) whose responsibilities include overseeing the work of the science teachers, but the HOD offers Nomzamo little more than (mostly procedural) guidance and support. Here, too, is revealed one of the ironies of the situation – in many ways the school was extremely supportive of Nomzamo’s initiatives to bring innovation into her science classroom. On an affective (i.e. emotional) level, this support may have been of some value to her in motivating and encouraging her to continue with the programme, but in practical terms, the problem is that it represented little more than that. Clearly, both individualism and collegiality are complex social and cultural phenomena. For a start, there is no doubt that in schools across the world most teachers work alone, behind closed doors in the insulated and secluded environment of their own classroom. In any context, teaching is an activity marked by isolation from other practitioners and supervisors (Lortie, 1975) and for many teachers this is the very base of their occupational culture (Hargreaves, 1994). While Hargreaves (1992) suggests that the culture of individualism is still the most pervasive of all forms of teacher culture, and is in most respects a ‘seedbed of pedagogical conservatism’ (ibid., p. 232), elsewhere he draws a useful distinction between individuality and individualism (Hargreaves, 1993). In a studied argument against the ‘heresy of individualism’ he notes that dispositions towards individuality and preferences for solitude among teachers may be of considerable value in many instances.

68 Jonathan Clark

Individualistic behaviour understood in these terms may be less a source of weakness and diffidence than an expression of creative originality and principled disagreement. Therefore, to eliminate the culture of individualism in its less restrictive forms may also unwittingly entail suppressing individuality of choice. In the context of Nomzamo’s work at Yengeni High, she effectively faces change on her own. This implies that at least on one level she has considerable freedom to act (as in her decision to try out the STAP material), and so, conditions in a township school like Yengeni High actually favour an individual teacher’s efforts to bring innovation and change into her classroom. However, I would argue that this appears in many ways to be a kind of false freedom – for as we have seen, the commitment and motivation of an individual teacher are placed under enormous strain by the actions of her fellow teachers. It is as if Nomzamo is free to do what she wants as long as it is kept in her classroom and does not threaten the carefully negotiated status quo of teaching at the school. In addition to the culture of individualism, Hargreaves (1997) talks about a second culture of teaching – which he calls a balkanized culture, ‘made up of separate and sometimes competing groups, jockeying for position and supremacy like loosely connected, independent city states’ (Fullan and Hargreaves, 1992, p. 71). In the context of the Western schooling systems, where virtually all of this research originates, this is a familiar feature at the secondary level, mainly because of the strong subject department structures on which schools are based. If it is accepted that a school’s teachers are its own best resources for change, then such departmental structures tend to deplete these resources by insulating and isolating teachers. Also, with teachers working in separate and sometimes competing territorial groups, the definition and pursuit of common goals across the whole school community are very difficult, if not impossible. Spoken of in such terms, Yengeni High can be characterized as an extreme example of a balkanized culture. Given the school’s low level of organizational coherence and fragile authority structures, teacher groupings do not adhere to subject boundaries but are based on the shifting sands of inter-personal relationships in the staff room. And Hargreaves’ (1994, p. 226) comment that in a balkanized culture, ‘the organizational whole is less than the sum of its parts’, certainly seems to apply. I would argue that the powerful influence that these two cultures of teaching (individualism and balkanization) have on Nomzamo’s practice cannot be under-estimated. Not only do they fragment relationships, making it almost impossible (or so it seems) for teachers to work together; but they also stifle the moral support necessary for risk-taking and experimentation. In this regard, Fuller and Snyder’s comment seems particularly apt, ‘the more we learn about what teachers should be doing, the more we

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 69

realize how constrained their social roles and behavioural scripts actually are within schools’ (1992, p. 234). What kinds of responses are open to teachers who have to work in conditions of such constraint? For example, how does Nomzamo respond to what is arguably the most significant indicator of school (dys)functionality, namely the continual shortfall in teaching time? It might be imagined that this would encourage her to engage in more careful planning in order to maximize her use of whatever time is available. Instead it would appear (based on my observations of Nomzamo’s practice) that the opposite occurred – in the face of the unpredictability of daily life at the school, she learned all too quickly that there is often little point in planning too far ahead. Considered in such terms, the tendency of a teacher to function on a day-to-day basis seems a perfectly reasonable response to the conditions at Yengeni High. Indeed, it would appear to form an invaluable part of Nonzamo’s repertoire of coping strategies that allows her to deal with the vagaries of daily life at the school.

The students Students are the most salient and powerful context of teaching, for, as Talbert and McLaughlin (1993) remind us, it is their needs, as teachers perceive them, and the constraints and opportunities they present for instructional choices which shape teachers’ goals, conceptions of practice, and roles in a myriad of ways. Taking this into account, one might expect that the influence that students bring to bear would be a major focus of research, particularly at times of innovation and change. With some exceptions (for example, Black and Atkin, 1996; Macdonald and Rogan, 1990; Wildy and Wallace, 1995) the opposite is true; leaving us in a position in which, as Michael Fullan (1991, p. 182) put it, ‘We hardly know anything about what students think about educational change because no-one ever asks them.’ Perhaps part of the problem is the almost unspoken assumption in curriculum development throughout the world that students will be the willing recipients of change (a point made by Prophet, 1995). Thus, while much has been written about the kind of roles and procedures that students should engage in to facilitate meaningful learning in science, what has rarely been explored is the impact, from the students’ perspective, of their changing role (Hand et al., 1997). Again, it is Fullan (1991, p. 189) who makes the telling point that critical to understanding educational change is the recognition that these changes in students and teachers must go together – that is, students are also being asked to change their thinking and behaviour in the classroom. With nearly 240 students in her four Grade 9 science classes, Nomzamo struggles at the best of times to cope with the demands of teaching large

70 Jonathan Clark

classes. In such circumstances, implementing a programme like STAP, with its emphasis on student activities and collaborative group work, is fraught with difficult challenges. For example, student-centred learning takes on different meanings when there are more than sixty students in a class. For a start, Nomzamo has an almost impossible task of keeping track of the academic performance of individual children, where time constraints alone preclude her from little more than fairly cursory monitoring of her students’ homework and classwork activities. As Nomzamo once remarked, “I wouldn’t even think of taking it [homework] in! I’m struggling to even mark tests. So for taking in homework, oh no . . .” At an organizational level, the demands of teaching such large numbers of students are further compounded by the mixed-ability nature of Nomzamo’s classes. With little in the way of subject streaming in the junior Grades at Yengeni High, each class consists of students who display a wide range of abilities and motivations. It is therefore not surprising that, in common with teachers elsewhere (see, for example, Prophet, 1995), Nomzamo cites the problem of having to deal with the wide range of abilities in each class as a major constraint in her teaching. Yet, perhaps one of the less obvious consequences of having to teach so many students is that Nomzamo finds it an impossible task to get to know her students by name. This constrains her efforts to reach out to her students in quite profound ways and her dilemma of not knowing seems to play a pivotal role in shaping the nature of both the public and private interaction between Nomzamo and her students. In this regard, Nomzamo’s experiences are surely not unique. While some students become known to their teachers and surface as individuals in their classes, many others, unmarked by their ability to perform academically with either distinction or disaster, remain to all intents and purposes anonymous members of their class. Yet in such circumstances, one is faced at the most basic level with a profound disjuncture between the high rhetoric of student-centred learning (which is premised in no small part on a teacher being able to respond on an individual level to a learner’s needs) and the reality of a classroom, where many students are little more to their teacher than a name called out during the marking of the period register, a name against which a test mark is recorded. How do students respond to circumstances wherein they are but one among so many? The following account is drawn from a journal entry of mine: Today, watching the students, I find myself focussing once more on the boys at the back of the classroom. Even though there are more than 60 children in the class, they go to great lengths to avoid drawing attention to themselves. For instance, when Nomzamo talks, they are careful to avoid eye contact (although they may stare blankly at her);

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 71

they generally keep fairly quiet, only occasionally making an aside or comment to a friend. Most of them are intent on keeping their heads down (both literally and figuratively!) – they may stare emptily into space, but rarely out of the window because that might draw their teacher’s attention. How many are really listening to her? I guess very few. Time for some group work, and the opportunity to do some practical work leads to a more animated class. Walking around, I reach the boys at the back. Huddled over their electricity kit, I can see that they are really struggling to make sense of the activity. Even so, they are not asking for assistance, and I sense they don’t welcome my intrusion. Yet, for all their confusion (disinterest perhaps?), they rarely bother students in other groups, nor become too rowdy. This incident confirms the extent to which many students are quite adept at wearing a cloak of anonymity and employing it to their own advantage. Not only does it allow them to hide among their peers, thereby easing the pressure to perform or meet task goals such as homework and classwork exercises, but it can even be used to mask their absence from class. While there seems to be little open conflict in Nomzamo’s classroom, this is not to suggest that the students are always well behaved. Certainly there are instances where classes are difficult to control, but such behaviour is usually triggered by conditions in the school when teaching has all but ground to a halt, or in response to the class being left teacher-less for one or more periods at a time. On the rare occasions when there are clashes between Nomzamo and her students, they tend to be brief affairs and are concerned with procedural issues (such as uncompleted homework or classwork tasks). Behaviour like this could be construed as evidence that the students are strongly compliant and accepting of her authority. While it certainly seems that Nomzamo has the right to demand their silence, whether or not this translates into their attention, commitment to work, or greater involvement in classroom activities, is another matter all together. Rather, it seems as if there is a tacit agreement between Nomzamo and her students that allows them to disengage as long as this does not result in disruptive or unruly behaviour. On occasions, Nomzamo is aware that some students are not paying attention, yet in pursuit of her own instrumental goals for the lesson she continues teaching, choosing to focus on those in the class who are willing to pay attention. Those who do not listen understand that as long as they do not make a noise Nomzamo will leave them alone to continue working at their homework task, or sitting quietly by themselves. Such is the negotiated order in Nomzamo’s classroom and it clearly illustrates how such trade-offs must be part and parcel of the daily routine in any classroom

72 Jonathan Clark

and reflect in part the pragmatic response that a teacher brings to the dilemmas of practice. In the extreme form described here, the notion of script as developed by Davies (1984) offers a useful tool for making sense of certain aspects of some students’ response to the STAP programme. Yengeni High is a school marked by low expectations and an acceptance of a position of minimal achievements by students. What happens then if a teacher, like Nomzamo, attempts to replace these scripts with ones for, say, higher achievement? There is a danger that she is likely to evoke derision rather than mutuality. However, unlike the British working-class girls with whom Davies worked, it is highly unlikely that Nomzamo’s students would ever dream of responding so openly; instead of derision, silence is their shield. Yet at a more fundamental level, perhaps their situation is the same – that of students bound by scripts of non-participation and failure. Clearly, it remains one of the greatest challenges facing an instructional programme in science (or any other subject for that matter), to find ways of convincing students that they do not have to be bound by these justificatory scripts. Bearing all this in mind, the STAP programme with its numerous opportunities for encouraging the students to engage in self-directed work proves something of a mixed blessing for a teacher such as Nomzamo. For as soon as she tries to raise the level of engagement by expecting more of the students in terms of, say, class/homework, Nomzamo finds herself burdened not only with a load of potentially unmarkable work but, more critically, with the complex organizational demands needed to keep track of this work. To function effectively in this way requires a kind of skilful practice far beyond that which she is normally expected to display.

The challenge of curriculum change The introduction of an innovation such as STAP presents a significant (if not profound) challenge to a teacher and her students to find ways of cutting through the Gordian knot that binds them all to conventional patterns of pedagogic practice. As Nomzamo’s experiences showed, this is no simple matter – for while she willingly came to explore ways of teaching which promoted active student participation and inquiry, the same could not be said for her students. As the trialling exercise proceeded, it became increasingly evident that a significant constraint on change lay in the students’ inability to break free of the passive role which, it seems, years of schooling had conditioned them to accept. Perhaps, echoing the words of Fullan (1991) cited earlier, a useful way of conceptualizing the introduction of innovation and change in the science classroom, is in terms of a dual process which simultaneously involves both the teacher and student. Nomzamo’s classroom is like a

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 73

stage hung with curtain walls of silence behind which the students can conveniently withdraw. As she struggles with shifting her own practice, she is faced with the even greater challenge of encouraging her students to accept that they can step out of the shadows, abandon their silence and become more directly involved in classroom activities. The image of change as being a journey into the partially known or unknown is often used in the literature. It is particularly useful because it suggests that change is not a static process but one which takes place over time, involving a degree of personal choice on the part of the teacher, ‘between a path to be taken and others to be passed by’ (Hargreaves, 1994, p. 18). As Nomzamo came to experience, change is difficult, unpredictable and fraught with insecurities, requiring no small degree of risktaking. Change is a deeply personal process (a point made by Briscoe, 1996, among others), which may present a fundamental challenge to a teacher’s self-image. Nomzamo also expressed many of these concerns as she saw failure for herself and her classroom looming. change is not comfortable, it’s never been comfortable! And it’s quite . . . (hesitates) and it doesn’t occur overnight and you don’t just change completely at once, it’s gradual, so gradually I was changing. Now in a way it does feel a bit intimidating in the sense that you kind of say, “I thought I was doing this right!” And suddenly you realize no, you aren’t really doing things right or the way they were intended to be. You are going to have to stop doing things in such a way. And then you have to look at your methods and actually look at it critically, and if you start looking at yourself critically, it’s not a very nice thing to do. But at the end of it all if you realize that it’s for building you professionally and personally you accept that it’s the process that you go through. That is, if you know that the intention of the whole thing is to build you professionally. Nomzamo came to realize there was much that she had to learn and unlearn, so much that she was unprepared for. Yet it is precisely this barrier to transformation, what Cohen and Barnes (1993) have aptly labelled as unlearning, that appears to be such a difficult and little explored feature of learning. Teachers are forced to become novices again, often after many years of thinking that they have become accomplished professionals.

Conclusion In the preceding account, I have tried to capture just a few of the hidden challenges of teaching and learning transformation, by drawing on the experiences of a highly dedicated teacher working in conditions of

74 Jonathan Clark

considerable constraint. I would argue that perhaps the most critical element for change is a teacher’s own conceptions of learning – teachers have to revise their conception of learning in ways largely unanticipated by the social fabric of classrooms. This is an important point to make, for much of the pedagogic knowledge which Nomzamo holds is nested in a belief system which has developed over a lifetime of experience both in and out of the classroom (Briscoe, 1991; Clermont et al., 1994). As Nomzamo sought to construct out of the repertoire of her history and experience what Louden (1991) refers to as a new horizon of understanding, her challenge lay in finding ways of incorporating change into her existing framework of beliefs and practices about teaching and learning. As she tried to find her way from familiar practices to new ones, Nomzamo cobbled new ideas on to familiar ones; which resulted in, as Cohen (1990) quite elegantly put it, a melange of novel and traditional approaches to instruction. The following comment by Noss and Hoyles seems to capture Nomzamo’s experiences in this regard: The challenge for teachers faced with an innovation is to work to clarify a new (not necessarily disjointed) set of ideas and practices whose interactions with existing practice are not at all evident from the outset, but emerge in the course of the innovation. (1993, p. 214) Thought of in such terms, it is possible to conceptualize the growth of a teacher’s knowledge as being a gradual and hesitant process. And one which develops from a steady expanding of horizons of understanding, rather than sudden leaps of insight (Wallace and Louden, 1992), as a teacher tinkers and experiments with her classroom practices (Huberman, 1989). As Nomzamo took the ‘fumbling first steps down an unfamiliar path’ (to use Wilson et al.’s 1993, expression), she was inclined to look back with some regret at the well-worn path of familiar practice. In all this, we need to remind ourselves that Nomzamo’s teaching practice (like that of any other teacher) is firmly embedded in context, and that her reason in action is both practical and context-bound reflecting her response to the many conflicting demands which she faces in her day-today teaching (McLaughlin, 1991). Here, too, we cannot fail to appreciate the complex interactions that occur between Nomzamo and the context within which she operates and the extent to which the multiple layers of context affect the ways she thinks and comes to create her practice (McCarthey and Peterson, 1993; Talbert and McLaughlin, 1993). Nomzamo’s experiences also provide convincing evidence in support of the contention that deeply ingrained practices of teaching are powerful inhibitors of change. Not only are Nomzamo’s actions heavily influenced by the institutional practices and the working relationships of the

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 75

community of teachers with whom she shares the staff room, but without the benefit of a collaborative, supportive group of fellow teachers, she faces change alone. While it may well be that she has considerable freedom to bring innovation and change into her classroom, I would argue that this amounts to a kind of false freedom – her commitment and motivation are at times placed under enormous strain by the actions of her fellow teachers. Implementing a programme like STAP with its emphasis on student activities and collaborative group work presents Nomzamo with a host of other challenges as well. There is unfortunately a profound disjuncture between the high rhetoric of student-centred learning and the realities of a challenging classroom. As Nomzamo found, the close monitoring of the individual performance of hundreds of children, who display such varying degrees of ability and enthusiasm for their schoolwork was a nigh on impossible task, not only in terms of volume, but more critically because of the complex organizational demands needed to keep track of this work. To function effectively in such circumstances clearly demands a high level of skilful practice. As Nomzamo grappled with these and other context-dependent functional problems, she was also faced with having to cope with her students and their reactions to the shifting dynamics of classroom interactions. As she sought to encourage more active student participation and inquiry, she came to appreciate how they too were being asked to change their practice and adapt to new ways of learning. Thus, there is in the existing patterns of teaching and learning a double bind that mediates against more open student engagement in the classroom. And because of this, the management of innovation and change in the science classroom has to be conceptualized as a dual process that simultaneously involves both the teacher and her students. For as Nomzamo struggled to shift her own practice, she was faced with the daunting challenge of encouraging and supporting her students to do the same. No easy task at all. In closing, I believe Nomzamo’s efforts to lead herself and her students into a new world of curriculum experiences stand as a testimony to the power of individual agency. She led by example. Yet, as she found, the personal costs of leaving the well-worn path of familiar practice are high and the results often uncertain, particularly in a setting where the ‘power of context’ has the capacity to stymie a teacher’s attempts to change her practice, irrespective of however willing or able she might be. Upon reflection then, Nomzamo’s story can be read as a salutary reminder of the challenges to practice, and constraints on change, which countless teachers face each day in schools across the world.

76 Jonathan Clark

References Black, P. and Atkin, J. M. (1996) Changing the Subject: Innovations in Science, Mathematics and Technology Education. London: Routledge. Briscoe, C. (1991) The dynamic interactions among beliefs, role metaphors, and teaching practices: A case study of teacher change. Science Education, 75(2), 185–199. Briscoe, C. (1996) The teacher as learner: Interpretations from a case study of teacher change. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 28(3), 315–329. Clermont, C. P., Borko, H. and Krajcik, J. S. (1994) Comparative study of the pedagogical content knowledge of experienced and novice chemical demonstrators. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 31(4), 419–441. Cohen, D. K. (1990) Revolution in one classroom. Journal of Education Policy, 5(5), 103–123. Cohen, D. K. and Barnes, C. A. (1993) A new pedagogy for policy? In D. K. Cohen, M. W. McLaughlin and J. E. Talbert (eds), Teaching for Understanding: Challenges for Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 240–275. Davies, L. (1984) Pupil Power: Deviance and Gender in Schools. Lewes: Falmer Press. Fullan, M. (1991) The New Meaning of Educational Change. New York: Teachers College Press. Fullan, M. and Hargreaves, A. (1992) What’s Worth Fighting For in Your School? Buckingham: Open University Press. Fuller, B. and Snyder, C. W. (1992) Teacher productivity in sticky institutions: Curricular and gender variation. In D. W. Chapman and H. Walberg (eds), International Perspectives in Educational Productivity. Greenwich, CT: JAI Press, pp. 233–250. Hand, B., Treagust, D. F. and Vance, K. (1997) Student perceptions of the social constructivist classroom. Science Education, 81(5), 561–575. Hargreaves, A. (1992) Cultures of teaching: A focus for change. In A. Hargreaves and M. G. Fullan (eds), Understanding Teacher Development. New York: Teachers College Press, pp. 216–240. Hargreaves, A. (1993) Individualism and individuality: Reinterpreting the teacher culture. International Journal of Educational Research, 19(2), 227–246. Hargreaves, A. (1994) Changing Teachers, Changing Times: Teachers’ Work and Culture in the Postmodern Age. London: Cassell. Hargreaves, A. (1997) From return to renewal: A new deal for a new age. In A. Hargreaves and R. Evans (eds), Beyond Educational Reform: Bringing Teachers Back In. Buckingham: Open University Press, pp. 103–125. Huberman, M. (1989) The professional life cycle of teachers. Teachers College Record, 91(1), 31–57. Lortie, D. C. (1975) Schoolteacher. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Louden, W. (1991) Understanding Teaching: Continuity and Change in Teachers’ Knowledge. New York: Teachers College Press. Macdonald, M. A. and Rogan, J. M. (1990) Innovation in South African science education (Part 2): Factors influencing the introduction of instructional change. Science Education, 71(1), 119–132.

Challenges to practice, constraints on change 77 McCarthey, S. J. and Peterson, P. L. (1993) Creating classroom practice within the context of a restructured professional development school. In D. K. Cohen, M. W. McLaughlin and J. E. Talbert (eds), Teaching for Understanding: Challenges for Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 130–163. McLaughlin, M. W. (1991) Enabling professional development: What have we learnt? In A. Lieberman and L. Miller (eds), Staff Development: New Demands, New Realities, New Perspectives. New York: Teachers College Press, pp. 61–82. Noss, R. and Hoyles, C. (1993) ‘Bob – a suitable case of treatment?’ Journal of Curriculum Studies, 25(3), 210–218. Paterson, A. and Fataar, A. (1998) The culture of learning and teaching: teachers, moral agency and the reconstruction of schooling in South Africa, paper presented at Tenth World Congress of Comparative Education Societies, Cape Town, South Africa, July. Prophet, R. B. (1995) View from the Botswana junior secondary school: Case study of a curriculum innovation. International Journal of Educational Development, 15(2), 127–140. Talbert, J. E. and McLaughlin, M. W. (1993) Understanding teaching in context. In D. K. Cohen, M. W. McLaughlin and J. E. Talbert (eds), Teaching for Understanding: Challenges for Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 167–206. Wallace, J. and Louden, W. (1992) Science teaching and teachers’ knowledge: Prospects for reform of elementary classrooms. Science Education, 76(5), 507–521. Wildy, H. and Wallace, J. (1995) Understanding teaching or teaching for understanding: Alternative frameworks for science classrooms. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 32(2), 143–156. Wilson, S. M., Miller, C. and Yerkes, C. (1993) Deeply rooted change: a tale of learning to teach adventurously. In D. K. Cohen, M. W. McLaughlin and J. E. Talbert (eds), Teaching for Understanding: Challenges for Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 84–129.

Part II

Collegial initiatives in teacher learning

Chapter 5

The experience and challenges of teacher leadership in learning technology reform for science education A tale of TESSI Jolie Mayer-Smith

Introduction While professional development of teachers has been central to discussions of school and educational reform for many years, it is only recently that teacher leadership has become the new focus of attention (Lieberman, 1992; Walling, 1994; Wasley, 1991). Research in this area has primarily dealt with teachers’ experiences in managerial, administrative, and staff development positions in schools and districts (Wasley, 1991). Despite calls for teacher leadership that is grounded in a teacher’s work with his or her own students (Sergiovanni and Starratt, 1993), little research has been conducted which attends directly to the experiences of the teachers involved in this type of leadership (Silva et al., 2000). Silva et al.’s presentation of three cases of teachers leading change from within their own classrooms begins to fill this void. In this chapter I continue that conversation by focusing the lens more specifically on teachers working to reform science teaching and learning. I present a tale of teacher leadership in a collaborative, classroom-based technology initiative. This tale is constructed from the stories and experiences of a group of science teachers who have become leaders in the Technology Enhanced Secondary Science Instruction Project (TESSI), an initiative operating in a number of high school classrooms in British Columbia, Canada, since 1992. A central problem for science educators in the twenty-first century is how to create, implement, and sustain programs of learning technology in science classrooms and departments. Teacher leadership is one of the fundamental factors that will determine the success or failure of such programs. Understanding what motivates, influences and sustains leadership is critical if we wish to support science teachers who assume leading roles in technology and related reform initiatives in their schools and districts.

82 Jolie Mayer-Smith

While it seems logical that teachers involved in such leadership roles should experience rich professional development opportunities, the reality is that teachers with vision frequently find they face unanticipated challenges and must travel torturous paths to reach their goals. This is discouraging for the individuals involved, and detrimental to the reform process. Teachers working as agents of change in their classrooms and the larger educational community would benefit if stories of similar leadership ventures were documented and made available. This chapter details the leadership experiences and achievements of a group of high school science teachers who came together to advance a vision of teaching science with technology. The chapter begins with an overview of the history and development of the collaborative initiative and is followed by the stories of five teachers in the project that illustrate the professional growth the participants experienced, as well as their response to the demands of the leadership process. The chapter closes with a discussion of insights that emerged from listening to the voices of science teachers leading the way in a technology initiative. This in-depth look at leadership in a science education technology initiative provides information for administrators and teachers who wish to undertake new programs in their districts and school classrooms, and for teacher educators as they prepare new teachers to assume leadership responsibilities in schools.

The beginning and evolution of TESSI At the 1992 annual meeting of the American Association of Physics Teachers an informal conversation between Janice, a university science educator, and two experienced high school physics teachers, Gordon and Aubry, led to the birth of the Technology Enhanced Physics Instruction (TEPI) initiative. Based on their common interests in computers, science teaching and physics education, the team of three began to collaborate to explore the potential of bringing educational technologies into secondary science classrooms. In year one, funds were secured to equip each teacher’s classroom with a multimedia computer, a high-intensity overhead projector, and an LCD panel. For an entire school year Gordon and Aubry used these technologies to demonstrate physics simulations and present lectures supplemented by computer graphics. This strategy allowed them to ease technology into their science teaching practice. At the end of year one, Gordon and Aubry were dissatisfied with their use of technology as an add-on. Their deliberation with Janice led to a vision of science teaching in which technologies would be placed in the hands of students. To achieve their goal, supplementary funding was obtained, more software was purchased, networked student computers were installed, and technology-enriched science classrooms began to

A tale of TESSI 83

evolve. Over the next two years the teachers focused their energies on designing technology-based science activities to address the provincially mandated curriculum, and they began to create a student-centered, multiactivity learning environment. During the process the teachers’ dream temporarily became a nightmare as they experienced the challenge of orchestrating multiple classroom events that were happening simultaneously. To address the challenge, Aubry and Gordon devised the TEPI Student Study Guide, an integrated curriculum support document, produced as a series of modules to assist students in working through the course material at their own pace. By the close of project year three, the teachers had become facilitators in classrooms where multimedia technology was seamlessly integrated with the teaching and learning of science, and the vision of TEPI had become a reality. During these developmental years a steady stream of interested administrators, district and university personnel, government officials, and dignitaries from local, regional, national, and international sites visited Gordon and Aubry’s classrooms to watch technology-enhanced science in action. The group began to receive requests to develop programs similar to TEPI for other subject areas from schools and districts. The project began to expand. Two university researchers joined the team to help document the events. Over the next two years a number of teachers joined Gordon, Aubry, and Janice in exploring how the initiative might be adapted to fit biology and chemistry classrooms. Dean, a biology teacher, became part of the collaborative team in 1995, and Brad and John, two chemistry teachers, joined the project in 1996. These teachers worked with Janice to secure additional funding from school districts and outside agencies in order to equip the science classrooms in their respective schools with networked computers and digital technologies. To better reflect the fact that learning technologies were now being used to enhance teaching high school science in a range of disciplines and not just physics, TEPI was renamed TESSI. Students performed well in these technology-enhanced classrooms (Pedretti et al., 1998; Woodrow et al., 1996). The increased participation and success of women students using technology to learn science further added to the appeal of the project (Mayer-Smith et al., 2000). Fueled by these results, opportunities for professional development began to appear. The British Columbia Open Learning Agency (OLA) filmed Aubry and Gordon’s classes and featured them in a live videoconference in the fall of 1995. Later that year Gordon, Aubry and Janice signed a publishing contract to produce the TESSI Physics Student Study Guide for wider distribution. At the close of 1995 Gordon and Aubry’s contribution to science education received national recognition and they were flown to Ottawa to accept the Prime Minister’s Award for Teaching Excellence in Science, Technology, and Mathematics.

84 Jolie Mayer-Smith

Project development and educational outreach activity continued to increase. In January 1997 the British Columbia Ministry of Education funded a TEPI Professional Development Teacher Training Project in three schools around the province with Aubry and Gordon at the helm. In spring of 1997, the project acquired an international presence when the OLA contracted the team to work with the Mexican government to set up TESSI-style classrooms. Invitations to present papers at conferences across Canada and the USA continued to arrive and eventually all five teachers assumed roles in in-service and conference activities. Dean, Brad, and John developed TESSI study guides in their respective disciplines and by 1999 all five teachers had completed Master’s degrees in Education based on their work in the project. Based upon all traditional measures, TESSI was a collaborative initiative that had experienced unparalleled success bringing technologies into the science classroom. By 2000, the project’s influence had spread to six districts and ten schools in British Columbia, and five provinces and fourteen schools across Mexico. But how was participation in TESSI experienced by the teachers? What did they have to say about leading the way in technology?

Tales of TESSI from the field Gordon, teacher and technical expert Gordon teaches science and information technology courses in a small public high school with a population that fluctuates between 650 and 800 students. The school is located in a lower-middle class neighborhood of a suburban community with a diverse ethnic population. Gordon’s TESSI classroom is on the lower level of the school, at the end of the hall in a corner. This location allows him to get on with what he loves to do best, teach science using technologies, with few interruptions. When Gordon joined Aubry and Janice for their collaborative venture, he was the school science department head and had been teaching physics and general science for ten years. Gordon characterized himself as being a traditional lecture-based teacher who, in 1992, was comfortable with computers and enjoyed the challenge of learning about new technologies. That quickly changed. It soon turned out that in addition to comfort, Gordon possessed an untapped talent for solving the innumerable problems associated with installing and managing technologies in the classroom. Gordon came to be recognized by everyone in the project, himself included, as the technical guru. He was the person sought out by the other project participants to solve the thorny technology problems of networking, system set-up, and software function. As Gordon’s reputation for technical know-how grew,

A tale of TESSI 85

so did his school responsibilities. Although colleagues were not particularly interested in technically-improved science teaching, they would seek out Gordon’s advice about classroom and home computer problems. He provided help with hardware purchase, printer problems, and offered inhouse workshops on marks programs and spreadsheets. In 1993 Gordon became the unofficial school technology resource person; unofficial because he provided this service on top of his regular teaching load, after school. Gordon’s professional technology portfolio continued to grow. In 1995 he assumed the role of Executive Director of the BC School Programs Assessment Consortium, a volunteer organization that collects, organizes, and distributes an electronic bank of test questions for use by high schools teachers. In 1998 Gordon set up a CISCO-Information Technology Education Program in their school, after being asked to initiate this by his principal. Gordon was motivated to join TESSI by his intrinsic desire to help his students learn science better and his personal interest in developing professionally. He believed that it was his responsibility to use his talent with technology for some moral purpose. It was the collegial partnership with Aubry and Janice that sustained Gordon when the workdays got long and problems tedious. But Gordon alleges that interest, desire, and collegiality would not have been enough to bring change to his classroom if the work environment had been hostile and resource support had not been made available. He attributes a significant part of the success of the TESSI initiative to the moral and resource-based support provided by Janice and his school principal. Referring to the role his principal played, Gordon says: You couldn’t [do this] without that support. It just wouldn’t happen, that’s plain and simple. [He provided] not only the moral support by saying, “Go ahead and try something different,” but also backing that up with a commitment to help with funding. Gordon’s goal was, and continues to be, to grow, to learn, to help others, and to promote innovative education practices that will benefit students’ learning. He believes his involvement with the MexicanCanadian Distance Education Project was the logical culmination of the TESSI initiative. He found it rewarding because it met all his professional goals: seeing other people that are interested in using technology and trying to change things; trying to help them to do it. Working with the people was great. And, when you think about it, you’re having input into changing an entire country’s education system. Wow, that’s pretty nifty.

86 Jolie Mayer-Smith

Gordon continues to be sought after for his combination of pedagogical and technological expertise. Despite this, he shrugs off the notion that he has changed much as a result of the project. He considers his leadership experience in TESSI as just another part of his professional responsibility. In his view, teaching and leading are identical, since providing direction and creating change in ways that help are central to his pedagogical philosophy. Aubry: teacher and professional development enthusiast Aubry had been teaching classes in physics and general science for five years when he joined the TESSI project team. He completed his first year of teaching in the same school as Gordon and then the next four years in a mid-sized (1,000 students), upper-middle class public high school situated in a more rural area of the same district. Aubry entered TESSI with tremendous enthusiasm and anticipation of bringing about improvement in the way science was being taught. He threw all his energies into the project and the collaboration. Aubry devoted countless hours to conceptualizing how to teach science with technology, discussing and solving pedagogical issues that accompanied the implementation of computers, and co-writing the support materials that eventually became the published TESSI Physics Student Study Guide. But things went wrong in Aubry’s school. Aubry’s zeal and determination for introducing TESSI to students were not appreciated by all his peers. When he invited colleagues into his classroom to see what he was doing, and offered to share his resources and the ideas he was learning through his participation in the project, he was often spurned. The stream of dignitaries who visited the school to observe Aubry’s technology-rich teaching environment, which was proudly showcased by the school principal, exacerbated the problem: I was very enthusiastic and very pumped up about this. And, I know I did help an awful lot of people. But I found when I left that my help certainly wasn’t appreciated. If anything there was resentment. My contribution was seen as my coming across as an expert . . . and maybe perceived as thinking that I was different . . . and arrogant. Although he felt isolated and lonely in his own school Aubry was motivated and sustained by the success he was experiencing with students, and by sharing his excitement with his collaborators. Furthermore, Aubry found the democratic and collegial nature of the TESSI partnership therapeutic and professionally enriching: I was excited by the response I was getting from the students. I thrive on change . . . and I was learning new things. Once we started to have a handle on how to improve things in the classroom and see some

A tale of TESSI 87

benefits of the technology it was like an addictive drug . . . Janice, thank God, built into her budget, monthly debriefing sessions . . . so we had meaningful frequent contact. . . . On the monthly pull-out days the three of us would discuss pros and cons and what worked. It was really good therapy. Despite a lukewarm level of interest in his own school, Aubry encountered a positive response whenever he worked with teachers from outside his district in formal staff development settings. Aubry learned that he not only had a flair for professional development, but also that in articulating his practice for other teachers he augmented his own understanding of pedagogy and experienced powerful personal growth. This realization contributed to Aubry’s frustration that he could not share his knowledge with the people he worked with on a daily basis. But the single most disheartening experience for Aubry came after he and Gordon won the Prime Minister’s Award. He learned that in British Columbia, the Provincial Teachers’ Association did not support the concept of celebrating individual teacher’s contributions. This stunned Aubry, who stated that after receiving national acclaim, the reception at home “was like walking into a vacuum.” In 1999, Aubry left the school where he initiated TESSI and began teaching in a recently constructed high school in the same district, because he felt ‘under-valued and unappreciated’ at his old school. He stated that there was no role in his previous school’s setting for him to be a leader. In his new school Aubry collaborates with a small group of colleagues who share his interests in innovative science education. He continues to be passionate about leading the way with technology, but remains disillusioned with the teaching profession: I’m disappointed with my profession . . . maybe I’m in the wrong profession. I love being an educator and developing some expertise. I’m enthusiastic about that aspect. But, I’d like to work in a profession that values that [activity] and rewards it. Dean: teacher and science software consultant I interviewed Dean in his home office in suburban British Columbia where he works with a laptop and a desktop, writing educational software support documents for a multimedia company in the USA. When asked if he is a technology leader he replied, “Well, I guess, by default perhaps. I certainly didn’t start out to be.” Dean joined the TESSI group in 1995, in year four of the project and concurrent with beginning his MA degree in Science Education. He had been teaching biology and general science for seven years and was ready for a change. Dean saw himself as a ‘standard sort of traditional teacher’ who was ‘looking to expand the boundaries of

88 Jolie Mayer-Smith

his practice.’ He had visited Aubry’s TESSI classroom and recognized that the project had the potential to help him transform his teaching. It wasn’t the technologies that excited him but rather the classroom learning environment: “What I really liked about TESSI was that it . . . would take me to where I wanted to go with science education and that is to have kids as active learners . . . not just sitting there taking notes.” Based on what he observed, Dean decided to focus his Master’s thesis on the question of whether this style of classroom teaching would improve his students’ learning of biology content. Following the model established by Aubry and Gordon, Dean worked to get his classroom wired and TESSI underway. Dean quickly became intrigued by the problem that some software hindered, rather than helped, his students learn biology and began to look closely at the design of educational multimedia. His principal gave him the go-ahead to try whatever he wanted in his classroom, but with their school under-funded he could offer no monetary support. This motivated Dean to contact software companies and ask to test-drive their software in exchange for sending them his critique. The companies obliged and found Dean’s input useful. Conversations grew into professional opportunities as Dean discovered that his classroom expertise combined with an ability to critique multimedia was a talent in demand by software companies. Leadership roles in science education for Dean continued to expand. In 1997, in addition to completing his Master’s degree, setting up a technology-enhanced classroom, writing the TESSI Biology Student Study Guide, teaching full-time, and consulting on software design, Dean joined Aubry, Gordon, and Janice in TESSI professional development activities. In 2000, a publisher approached Dean about joining a textbook writing team and he agreed. Fueled by his interest in teacher professional development and writing, Dean decided to leave his classroom teaching in November 2000, to work full-time from his home as a software consultant. While Dean led the way with technology in his classroom and was an out-and-out success at professional outreach for TESSI and consulting, things did not go as planned when he tried to sell staff members in his school on the idea of learning with technology. He secured funding to have computers put into each science room, made it known that his own room was a school resource, offered after-school workshops, and did individual mentoring, but experienced the same lackluster response as the other teachers in the project. It surprised Dean that what interest he did see in technology came from teachers outside the science department, and when he experienced jealousy in the attitudes of his department peers, he backed off: I pretty quickly learned to keep my mouth shut in terms of not telling people that I was going to a conference, unless they asked. You know,

A tale of TESSI 89

you get some funny vibes from some people. Most people were very positive; it was more the other science teachers that I got those funny vibes from. [Comments like] “Why do you have all this stuff in your room?” even though I explained that this is all bought by grant money and it doesn’t belong to the school. Dean acknowledges how being a teacher leader in TESSI provided him with a wealth of professional development and has opened many doors. But despite all the advancement, personal growth, and success, he remains a bit awed by where he is today and how far he has come, “It’s really quite a shock for me to have this job that I have now, and I don’t know if I’m quite qualified to do it.” Torn between his desire to return to the classroom and his interest in resource development and writing, Dean is unsure what he will do in the future: I think my natural role in life is to be a teacher. It’s not that I entirely love the whole job, but I certainly love parts of it and I miss parts of it. . . . So, I am really ambivalent about my change to the private sector. John: teacher and in-service provider In spring 1996, after teaching high school chemistry and general science for only one year, John returned to the university to begin his MA degree in Science Education. At that point he knew already that he wanted to bring a technology focus into his science classroom: I felt that if I was to stay in this job and to prepare myself for the future, the bottom line is you’ve got to have some sort of technological basis . . . using the tools for the trade. I mean, if you are going to be using a beaker in the future, why not a computer? It’s the same thing; it’s a tool. In the first year of his graduate program John took a summer course on computer-based science taught by Janice, heard about TESSI and joined the project. John’s high school of 1,200 students, located in a low-income, suburban area was not wired or technologically equipped when he returned to school that fall. That soon changed. Excited about helping everyone in his school use technology in their classrooms, John jumped into technology leadership in his school enthusiastically. While working with Brad and Janice on the problem of designing a TESSI chemistry classroom, John began his own mission of bringing his school into the twenty-first century. Deciding that a school-based technology committee was needed, he and a couple of teachers approached the principal who

90 Jolie Mayer-Smith

supported the idea enthusiastically. A committee was established, John was assigned to chair, and all interested persons could participate. Individuals and groups of teachers submitted proposals for technology-based projects and the committee ranked these. The staff as a whole decided to allocate a portion of the school budget for technology, and computers and software were purchased for art, career prep, language arts, ESL, and two TESSI classrooms. With John at the helm, teachers then began writing proposals to the school district office which responded by establishing a new committee and setting policy for handling such requests. Next, John started a SciTech Club in the school for students interested in tinkering with science software. The club members created a school website, the first for any school in the district. Suddenly in 1998 John found himself at the center of a time management crisis of his own creation. Staff members from all departments were seeking his help while he was trying to get his TESSI chemistry program off the ground. In 1999 the staff voted to give John a release block and the title of school technology resource person. John was relieved to get this official nod for work he had already been doing, unofficially for a year. In his new role, John set up computer systems, advised his colleagues on what to buy and how to teach with technology, and gave in-service training on how to create lessons and materials for students. John taught workshops after school and on professional development days, and provided just-intime in-service for individual teachers. While all of this was taking place John and Brad commiserated and struggled together to solve their chemistry curriculum and software implementation issues via email. The technology position lasted only one year due to his school downsizing and needing to reallocate funds. John was relieved when this obligation ended because he was feeling overwhelmed by trying to do so many tasks: When we started TESSI we didn’t expect to wear so many different hats. It just kind of came with the territory. You are now the ‘techy’ and singled out in the school . . . and they will come to you [for help]. People still come to me today. People were hesitant to ask. They knew how busy I was . . . I was ‘living there’ [at the school]. So they would try things on their own. But, ultimately they came to me. The time and energy demands of wearing too many hats at the same time eventually took its toll on John’s health, prompting him to cut back on leadership activities. Today with an MA degree under his belt, TESSI running smoothly in his classroom, and a draft of the TESSI Chemistry Student Study Guide complete, John is contemplating his future goals. Like a number of other colleagues in this project, John has reached a point where he must decide if he will stay in the classroom or look for ways to share what he has learned with other teachers:

A tale of TESSI 91

I am at the crossroads. On the one hand if I continue in this career, what is the next level? How can I be the best teacher [possible]? . . . But on the other hand I’d like to share my experience if possible . . . I have all this expertise, what am I going to do with it? Brad: teacher and behind the scenes leader Brad was a seasoned veteran with ten years’ experience teaching chemistry, physics, mathematics, and general science when the district science teachers met at his school on their professional day in fall 1995 to watch Gordon and Aubry speak about their TESSI classrooms via the Open Learning Agency’s online video-conference. Impressed by how engaging it was for students to learn science with multimedia, he was ready to lead the way with technologyenhanced science. In 1996, at the end of his first year in a MA program he met John, when both enrolled in the summer school course on computerbased science education, and together they volunteered to join TESSI. Brad began his technology-for-science leadership activities in a school devoid of computers and realized he needed administrative support: I came back . . . and tried to make sure that I could sell my principal on the idea of supporting a TESSI classroom. Because without his support I didn’t think anything would have really happened. There would be additional costs and . . . there would be some time where I would be asking if I could have release time to do certain activities, so I had to make sure that he was on my side. Once he got his principal’s go-ahead, Brad sprinted out of the starting blocks searching for the technologies that would help him create his twenty-first-century chemistry classroom. He cheerfully drove to a neighboring school district to pick up a set of second-hand computers to get started. Enthusiastic but largely self-taught, Brad found the going slow and frustrating. First, the hardware, then the network, then the software, then the curriculum development – everything was new and challenging and this began to discourage Brad. The fact that some students and staff members did not embrace the idea of technology for learning science with the same enthusiasm as Brad made him question whether all the work was worth the effort. Finding a soulmate in John, who was having his own challenges, helped sustain Brad’s will to soldier on: We . . . shared the odd horror story and the success. It was really important because without that acknowledgement that some of the things we were doing were good, and other things needed modification, and the piggybacking of ideas . . . I could see myself throwing my hands up and deciding to do something else in life.

92 Jolie Mayer-Smith

After two years of hard work fueled by perseverance, drive, and a real belief that what he was doing was in the best interests of his students, Brad’s technology-enriched chemistry classroom began to take shape. To move the project along more quickly, he wrote a proposal for more multimedia resources and received $11,400, from the local district technology committee, the largest sum of money ever awarded to a single teacher. Brad was rather sensitive about the fact that it was at this point that his principal started to take a keener interest in what was happening. He was also troubled that despite this display of interest, his principal was unable to offer financial or other forms of material aid: I would get a phone call every few weeks, [and get asked] “Brad, you know that little demonstration you do where you’ve got the orbitals spinning around on the CD-ROM? Could you fire up your computers and make sure things are happening because I’m going to bring some guests by.” This was really interesting because never before had the principal really toured anyone through my room. Although not comfortable being the center of attention Brad felt it was his responsibility to give back a bit of what he was learning. He gave local workshops and invited colleagues to see how technology could be used. After receiving a mixed response and hearing undercurrents of what Brad termed ‘empire envy,’ he decided it was best that he, ‘go quietly about his business.’ Brad regards leadership, particularly where technology is involved, as a relay race where you carry the baton for a while and then pass it on to someone else. Today, Brad works in a new, unwired classroom where he uses technology less often and teaches a bit more traditionally. He sees this as taking a break from leading the way in science education. Reflective about what lies ahead, he says that he doesn’t think his time as a leader has passed, but his approach has changed: I’m sort of a behind-the-scenes type of guy and if there is somebody willing to step forward and be the leader, I don’t mind being the quiet supportive person, behind that person. That seems to be more my role.

Learning from the teachers’ tale of TESSI These five stories of science teachers’ experiences in the TESSI project illustrate the personal face of teacher leadership. Taken together, the stories point to the powerful opportunities for learning afforded when teachers and university-based educators, who share a common reform agenda, work collaboratively in a classroom-based initiative. Through

A tale of TESSI 93

their participation in the project the five teachers became leaders in their classrooms and the larger educational community. But the journey to success was not entirely smooth and their stories depict the challenges associated with teachers endeavoring to bring about change in their workplace setting. They also demonstrate the messy and complex nature of teacher-directed educational reform. It is one thing to call for inclusion of teachers’ voices and teacher activity in the reform agenda for education (e.g. Fullan and Hargreaves, 1996; Hargreaves and Evans, 1997), but another thing to manage this in practice. The TESSI initiative met all the criteria for what should have been the ideal space for teachers to pursue change in their classrooms and schools. It exemplified the meaningful and moral partnership between teachers and educational professionals from ‘beyond the school walls,’ called for by Hargreaves (1997). But this collaboratively conceived, insider–outsider, science education reform initiative, while succeeding dramatically at certain levels, failed at others. At the individual level, the project was a remarkable success. Gordon, Aubry, Dean, John, and Brad each experienced tremendous professional growth and learning as they worked together to devise ways to help students learn science through the use of technologies. Success was also evident at the classroom level; students were participating in new ways, and changing their understanding of the teaching and learning transaction (Pedretti et al., 1998). But, in every case except one, teacher-initiated efforts to bring about school reform stalled when attempts were made to extend the TESSI project beyond the classroom level. As a science education reform initiative TESSI also experienced an uneven level of acceptance. At national and international levels this collaboration received public acclaim – but regionally and provincially the TESSI initiative has had to fight an uphill battle for acceptance. Why?

A situation of nature and nurture A closer look at the experiences of these five teachers provides insights into why the TESSI initiative, which started so strongly, has slowed down, and sheds light on the issue of what motivates, influences, and sustains teacher leadership, learning and professional growth in collegial endeavors. In each case presented here, those involved, as well as the contexts in which leadership activity took place, influenced the outcome of the enterprise. Thus, it appears that the shape of teacher leadership and professional development in TESSI was a product of both the nature of the participants and the extent to which a nurturing environment was present.

94 Jolie Mayer-Smith

The nature of teacher leaders No amount of collegial support, direction, or scaffolding can mobilize classroom-based change unless teachers who possess the initiative to move ahead, and the persistence to continue when challenges emerge, assume a leadership role. The five teachers that joined together with Janice in exploring how to use technology to move science education into the twenty-first century, shared a number of intrinsic leadership qualities that helped make TESSI a reality in their respective science classrooms. Gordon, Aubry, Dean, John, and Brad were a group of passionate teachers (Fried, 1995) committed to transforming science teaching practice in ways that would help their students succeed. Each espoused an ethic of caring, characteristic of teachers who possess a strong moral motive (Elbaz, 1992; Noddings, 1987; Sockett, 1989). They shared a spirit of adventure, comfort with risk-taking and a keen interest in personal growth and life-long learning. These leadership qualities were able to kindle, but not sufficient to sustain the fire of the TESSI initiative. For that to happen, the environment for change needed to be right. The need for a nurturing environment Three environments influenced the outcomes of this science education initiative: (1) the TESSI collaborative partnership; (2) the school environment; and (3) the educational community beyond the school setting. In the discussion that follows I briefly consider how each of these environments affected the teachers’ experiences in the project, and determined whether their growth and leadership were supported and nurtured, or stalled. The TESSI collaborative partnership The TESSI collaboration was an insider–outsider partnership that worked admirably. From its conception, through its design, to its unfolding in the science classrooms of five teachers, the project epitomized a deep and productive form of collegiality characteristic of what Fullan and Hargreaves term a “culture of collaboration” (1996). A number of important elements were in place that nourished and nurtured the professional growth of all those involved (Mayer-Smith et al., 1998). The project was founded on a democratically established joint vision, and supported by sharing of resources and ideas. Individual teacher’s voices were respected and valued, and determined the direction of the project. This combination of features created a sense of community within the group, which sustained the teachers’ participation and professional growth when setbacks slowed progress in their classroom projects.

A tale of TESSI 95

The school environment The school environment also played a critical role in the teachers’ professional development in TESSI, and it was this environment that largely determined the teachers’ willingness and capacity to assume leadership roles in their schools. The teachers in the project believed it was their responsibility to share their practical knowledge about teaming technology and science teaching with the larger school community, particularly with colleagues teaching in their departmental area. But, leadership in the school setting proved to be a serious challenge that was unanticipated by all participants. With the exception of John, all teachers in the project experienced a less than enthusiastic response to their efforts, and chose to direct their leadership energies elsewhere. John’s acceptance as a leader within his own school can be attributed to a combination of his personal traits and the presence of a school environment that was prepared to embrace change and leadership from within its ranks. According to Day (1999), it is the environment within a school, i.e. the school culture, which determines whether teacher learning and professional development will be fostered or inhibited. School culture, in turn, is influenced by the leadership and actions of the school principal. Barth (1990) points to the important role of the school principal in creating ‘a community of leaders.’ Building on this notion, Fullan and Hargreaves call for principals to, ‘stimulate, look for, and celebrate examples of teacher leadership’ and then to ‘foster collaboration,’ in order to create new roles in schools for teacher leaders (1996, p. 91). This sounds straightforward, but based on what transpired in the TESSI schools, such practices can create problems. In the case of four of the five teachers in the project, the school principal celebrated the teachers’ achievements and encouraged new roles for those individuals as onsite in-service providers. Unfortunately these administrators failed to take into consideration the existing school cultures where individualism prevailed (Little, 1990) and equity of treatment was valued more than professional growth. Thus, in drawing attention to the contributions of the project teachers, these principals unknowingly violated the values and traditions of their schools. In contrast, in John’s school it was the teaching community that initiated the decision to pursue the school-wide effort to bring technology into classrooms. In supporting and advancing the staff’s initiative, John’s principal cultivated a more progressive school culture wherein collaboration flourished and it was acceptable for a teacher to step out of his normal role within the community to assume a leadership position. The educational environment outside the school community The educational environment outside the school community presented similar challenges to teacher professional growth. In the province of

96 Jolie Mayer-Smith

British Columbia where the TESSI project took place, the local and provincial teacher communities, like their school counterparts, were not nurturing spaces for teacher leadership. These communities were reticent to embrace or recognize the achievements of those involved in the TESSI program. So, while the teachers in this initiative were in demand elsewhere in the country and abroad for their professional knowledge and understanding of technology-enhanced science education, they were not celebrated nor invited to assume leadership roles in district or provincial level projects. It was regarded to be unseemly and taboo to consider oneself as an expert in one’s own community.

Conclusion What can we learn from this close inspection of the TESSI initiative? First, it appears that success of teacher professional development in collegial endeavors is dependent on the natural leadership attributes of the participating teachers, and the presence of educational environments that nurture and nourish leadership activity. Second, it is the combination of these elements that is critical, and unless both elements are present, a teacher leadership initiative will likely wither and die. In the case of TESSI, the natures of the participants were clearly geared for success, and the collaborative environment of the project itself was hospitable and supportive. This combination of elements was sufficient to motivate five teachers to explore the uncharted waters of technology innovation in their science classrooms. But when confronted with environments that were neither accepting, supportive, nor nurturing, project momentum stalled. Inhospitable department, school, and district-level environments resulted in Aubry’s disenchantment and Brad’s frustration with the system. Unrealistic and unexamined expectations by colleagues and the administration led to John and Gordon being overworked and, at times, feeling under-appreciated. Jealousy expressed by colleagues dampened the enthusiasm of all five teachers. Although willing to devote enormous energy to improving classroom practice, when these efforts were not respected or acknowledged in their workplace environments, the TESSI teacher leaders responded by passing the baton, changing schools, and exploring work options outside the profession. The message here is that if we wish to promote teacher-led professional development and sustain leadership initiatives, we need to understand how to create workplace environments that respect, support, and nourish the efforts of those involved. Evidence from the TESSI experience suggests that this complex aspect of teacher leadership warrants further study. Ultimately, the end of this tale of TESSI is a paradox. Every teacher in the project today feels personally enriched and professionally advantaged

A tale of TESSI 97

as a result of participating in a collaborative reform endeavor. And all are now considering what to do with the knowledge they have acquired. But, being passionate about teaching, members of TESSI would like to share their wisdom with others in the teaching profession. Unfortunately, because of what Wasley terms ‘the egalitarian ethos of teaching’ (1991, p. 166), it is evident that many teachers find it problematic to accept colleagues as experts. This leaves the educational community with a dilemma that will need to be grappled with as we continue to promote teachers to develop professionally and assume leadership roles in their schools and beyond. In the meantime, until this issue is addressed we will continue to see teacher leaders like those involved in the TESSI initiative frustrated by the fact that they are all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Acknowledgments I wish to thank Gordon, Aubry, Dean, Brad, and John who welcomed me into their classrooms and took the time to share their stories of technology leadership. My thanks also go to Janice Woodrow, Erminia Pedretti, Jim Gaskell and Teresa Dobson for their editorial comments and insights on how to sharpen up the final version of this chapter. Research leading to this chapter was supported by a grant from the Imperial Oil Foundation.

References Barth, R. S. (1990) Improving Schools from Within: Teacher, Parents, and Principals Can Make the Difference. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Day, C. (1999) Developing Teachers: The Challenges of Lifelong Learning. London: Falmer Press. Elbaz, F. (1992) Hope, attentiveness and caring for difference: The moral voice. Teaching and Teacher Education, 8(5/6), 421–432. Fried, R. L. (1995) The Passionate Teacher: A Practical Guide. Boston: Beacon Press. Fullan, M. and Hargreaves, A. (1996) What’s Worth Fighting For in your School? New York: Teachers College Press. Hargreaves, A. (1997) Rethinking educational change: Going deeper and wider in the quest for success. In A. Hargreaves (ed.), Rethinking Educational Change with Heart and Mind, 1997 ASCD Yearbook. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development, pp. 1–26. Hargreaves, A. and Evans, R. (1997) Teachers and educational reform. In A. Hargreaves and R. Evans (eds), Beyond Educational Reform: Bringing Teachers Back in. Buckingham: Open University Press, pp. 1–18. Lieberman, A. (1992) Teacher leadership: What are we learning? In C. Livingston (ed.), Teachers as Leaders: Evolving Roles. Washington, DC: National Education Association, pp. 159–165. Little, W. J. (1990) The persistence of privacy: Autonomy and initiative in teachers’ professional relations. Teachers’ College Record, 91(4), 509–536.

98 Jolie Mayer-Smith Mayer-Smith, J., Pedretti, E. and Woodrow, J. (1998) An examination of how science teachers’ experiences in a culture of collaboration inform technology implementation. Journal of Science Education and Technology, 7(2), 127–134. Mayer-Smith, J. A., Pedretti, E. G. and Woodrow, J. E. J. (2000) Closing of the gender gap in technology enriched science education: A case study. Computers and Education, 35(1), 51–63. Noddings, N. (1987) Fidelity in teaching, teacher education, and research for teaching. Harvard Educational Review, 56(4), 496–510. Pedretti, E. G., Mayer-Smith, J. A. and Woodrow, J. E. J. (1998) Technology, text and talk: Students’ perspectives on teaching and learning in a technology enhanced secondary science classroom. Science Education, 82(5), 569–589. Sergiovanni, T. J. and Starratt, R. J. (1993) Supervision: A Redefinition. New York: McGraw-Hill. Silva, D. Y., Gimbert, B. and Nolan, J. (2000) Sliding the doors: Locking and unlocking possibilities for teacher leadership. Teachers’ College Record, 102(4), 779–804. Sockett, H. (1989) Research, practice, and professional aspiration within teaching. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 21(2), 97–112. Walling, D. R. (ed.) (1994) Teachers as Leaders: Perspectives on the Professional Development of Teachers. Bloomington, IN: Phi Delta Kappa Educational Foundation. Wasley, P. A. (1991) Teachers Who Lead: The Rhetoric of Reform and the Realities of Practice. New York: Teachers College Press. Woodrow, J. E. J., Mayer-Smith, J. A. and Pedretti, E. G. (1996) The impact of technology enhanced science instruction on pedagogical beliefs and practices. Journal of Science Education and Technology, 5(3), 241–252.

Chapter 6

Enhancing science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge through collegial interaction Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

Introduction In this chapter, we will focus on how collegial interactions can support teachers to develop their pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) (Shulman, 1986). PCK has been described as ‘that special amalgam of content and pedagogy that is uniquely the province of teachers, their own special form of professional understanding’ (Shulman, 1987, p. 8). This definition implies that teachers themselves construct the knowledge, which guides their actions in practice when they teach particular issues or topics. By providing opportunities for teachers to experiment with new teaching approaches in their classrooms, and to reflect on their experiences, both individually and collectively, we aim to support the development of their PCK. In our approach, professional learning is grounded in teachers’ work and stimulated by collegial interactions, thus allowing teachers to take up leadership roles. This approach acknowledges that teachers, as professionals, hold the key to improving the effectiveness of science education. Our approach will be discussed on the basis of two research projects: an in-service programme which aimed at promoting chemistry teachers’ PCK of chemical equilibrium; and, a pre-service programme on teaching models and modelling in science. In both programmes, teachers experimented with new teaching approaches in their classrooms. Moreover, the participating teachers had regular group meetings. The collegial interactions during these meetings were assumed to play an important mediating role in the development of PCK. This assumption was based on ideas derived from the literature about teacher learning through action research, networks, and critical friends (e.g. Beijaard et al., 2001; Van Driel et al., 2001). The organisation of this chapter is as follows. First, we will present a model of teacher learning and describe its components. Next, our two projects are briefly described in terms of their context, aim, and method. For each project we will illustrate the role of collegial interactions by including concrete excerpts of these interactions as they took place during the

100 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

programmes. The chapter ends with a discussion of the results of these projects in relation to the model of teacher learning and implications for the role of collegial interactions in programmes aimed at the development of science teachers’ PCK.

Teacher learning model and relevant components The model From the research, it has become clear that multiple strategies are necessary to promote teacher learning, which is conceived by us as bringing about changes in teachers’ knowledge and beliefs. Strategies which may contribute to the development of teacher knowledge, such as PCK, can be organised in the context of teacher education programmes or educational innovation projects. To make such strategies successful the following elements appear to be important: (1) an explicit focus on teachers’ knowledge and beliefs; (2) opportunities to experiment in practice; (3) collegial cooperation or exchange between teachers; and (4) sufficient time for changes to occur (Haney et al., 1996). In this chapter, the development of teachers’ PCK is described with the use of a model that is based on the literature about teacher learning (Clarke and Hollingworth, 2002). This model consists of four key elements, namely: (1) teachers’ PCK; (2) experimentation in practice; (3) external input; and (4) collegial interactions. All these elements are related (see Figure 6.1). This model can be explained as follows. Teachers may develop PCK as a result of reflecting on new information (arrow 1A), or on experimentation in practice (arrow 4A), or on interactions with colleagues (arrow 6A). In reverse, the PCK teachers have already developed provides a basis they may use as input in situations where they are confronted with new External input 2

1A 1B 4A 4B

Teachers’ PCK 6B

Experimentation in practice

3

6A

5 Collegial interactions

Figure 6.1 Model for teacher learning.

Knowledge through collegial interaction 101

information (arrow 1B), when they start experimenting with new teaching approaches (arrow 4B), or when they interact with colleagues about teaching particular issues or topics (arrow 6B). Offering external input to teachers may also facilitate the experimentation by the teachers in their own classrooms with new teaching approaches (arrow 2) with respect to specific issues. In addition, the development of PCK may be stimulated by organising collegial interactions within specific groups of teachers. For instance, during group meetings, teachers may discuss their experimentation in the classroom (arrow 5), or analyse the information offered as external input, e.g. excerpts from the research literature, comparing teaching approaches adopted in various textbooks (arrow 3). Such collegial activities can then stimulate teachers to reflect on their PCK, and subsequently to restructure or extend their PCK (arrow 6A). Thus our model focuses on the learning process of individual teachers, whereas collegial interactions are perceived as an important mediating variable that may enhance individual learning. In this respect our model is in accordance with the idea that learning should preferably not take place by an individual in isolation but collectively (e.g. Cochran-Smith and Lytle, 1999; Tickle, 2000). In the second part of this chapter we will discuss this model in the context of two of our research projects, by describing examples of learning processes that were stimulated through collegial interactions. First, however, we pay attention to two key components of the model in Figure 6.1, namely how we conceive ‘teachers’ PCK’ and ‘collegial interactions’.

Teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) Pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) was introduced as an element of the knowledge base of teaching (Shulman, 1986). Pedagogical content knowledge is often conceived of as the transformation of several types of knowledge for teaching that are strongly related (Magnusson et al., 1999). These types of knowledge include subject matter knowledge, pedagogical knowledge (classroom management, educational aims), and knowledge about context (school, students). PCK consists of two key elements: knowledge of instructional strategies incorporating representations of subject matter; and understanding specific learning difficulties and student conceptions with respect to that subject matter (Van Driel et al., 1998). As PCK refers to particular topics, it is to be discerned from knowledge of pedagogy, of educational purposes, and of learner characteristics in a general sense. Moreover, because PCK concerns the teaching of particular topics, it may turn out to differ considerably from subject matter knowledge per se. With respect to the development of science teachers’ PCK, several studies have been performed in the context of pre-service and in-service

102 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

teacher education and educational innovation. In the research literature about PCK, however, not much can be found about the impact of collegial interactions on the development of PCK. That is, most studies are situated in the context of teacher education programmes or reform efforts, and focus on the relationships between teachers’ PCK, experimentation in practice, and external input (the ‘upper triangle’ in Figure 6.1; arrows 1, 2 and 4). Examples of such studies are reviewed elsewhere (Van Driel et al., 1998). The few studies we found which explicitly emphasise the role of collegial interactions are summarised below. Mason (1999) described a specific co-operative model in which an academic content professor, a science teacher educator, and a high school science teacher collectively developed and taught courses for a teacher education programme. Compared to our model (Figure 6.1), this approach focused on the relationships between teachers’ PCK, experimentation in practice, and collegial interactions (the ‘lower triangle’; arrows 4, 5 and 6). The most important result of this project apparently was the increased understanding and appreciation among the participants of each other’s expertise. However, Mason did not indicate whether the participants developed PCK in terms of an improved understanding of the teaching and learning of particular topics. Lynch (1997) studied the effects of a collaborative project on a group of twenty-five novice science teachers who were preparing for the science education reform advocated by the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences (AAAS, 1993) and the National Research Council (NRC, 1996). The project consisted of a series of three-hour-long seminars. During these seminars the intentions of the reform were discussed and analysed collectively in relation to the participants’ ideas and beliefs. Next, teachers developed their own criteria, as a tool to make sense of the reform. Finally, teams of three teachers were formed who designed ten-day teaching units. Although these units were not actually taught, the project apparently helped the teachers to make sense of, and appreciate, the goals of the reform. In particular, the teachers’ criteria appeared to be a useful tool, which they used afterwards to review the goals of the reform, and specific teaching materials, thus contributing to the development of the teachers’ PCK. Comparing this approach with the model in Figure 6.1, the emphasis was on the relationships between teachers’ PCK, external input, and collegial interactions (the ‘left triangle’; arrows 1, 3 and 6), whereas experimentation in practice was not a part of this project.

Collegial interactions between teachers In this section we review studies focusing on co-operation or exchange between teachers in terms of collegial interactions as a means to promote

Knowledge through collegial interaction 103

teacher learning. Derived from the literature we distinguish two types of collegial interactions. First, evidence-based interactions refer to teachers doing collaborative action research. Although there are many variations of action research, the aim is always to yield practical, applicable results, for personal, professional or political purposes (Noffke, 1997). Common features of collaborative action research include control or ownership of the specific questions or problems teachers want to explore and the actions they carry out (e.g. developing materials and collecting data), in combination with group activities, such as sharing experiences and discussing or evaluating results based on evidence following from a systematic enquiry approach (Cohen and Manion, 1994; Feldman, 1996). The group, which may be supported or facilitated by educators or university-based researchers, constitutes a context in which the activities of individual teachers are embedded. A specific example within the domain of science teaching is described by Bencze and Hodson (1999) who conducted an action research project in which two teachers and a researcher/educator co-operated in the design and implementation of more authentic science for Grade 7 classrooms. The project stimulated the participating teachers to try out new activities in their classrooms, and resulted in changes in the teachers’ views about science and science teaching. Parke and Coble (1997) have taken the collaborative action research approach a step further by involving science teachers in curriculum development activities, which became a vehicle for professional development. Parke and Coble designed an approach in which teachers communicated continuously with colleagues as well as university staff and collaborated in the development of curriculum materials. Next, in the organisation of the curriculum development activities, attention was given, in particular, to the alignment of the curriculum materials teachers developed with the personal beliefs they articulated, and the school environment in which the curriculum was to be implemented. On the basis of a study involving science teachers from seven schools, Parke and Coble concluded that their approach, ‘supported teachers to become architects for change through building upon their current conceptions instead of attempting to remediate them’ (ibid., p. 785). In both examples of action research projects, collegial interactions based on research evidence collected by the teachers themselves played an important role. In terms of our model (Figure 6.1), all components and their relationships are present in these projects, that is, assuming that the researcher/educator (Bencze and Hodson, 1999) and the university staff (Parke and Coble, 1997), respectively, provided the teachers with ‘external input’. Also it should be noted that in these projects the aim was not explicitly to develop teachers’ PCK, but to develop their views and ideas about teaching science in a more generic sense.

104 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

Second, experience-based interactions refer to teachers who exchange ideas based on experiences in their own practice. These ideas do not necessarily need to be the result of systematic enquiry into the teacher’s own practices. Telling these ideas to colleagues, who listen and respond to them, are the most important ingredients of these kinds of interactions. Telling demands that a teacher structures his or her ideas; listening and responding to these ideas may help to restructure the ideas of the person who told them. Moreover, teachers can be stimulated by the ideas of colleagues to change their own ideas. These activities, changing and (re-)structuring one’s ideas, are indicative of learning processes. In the last decade, collegial learning in school networks, focusing on these experience-based interactions, has emerged in the context of professional development (Huberman, 1995). In these networks, participants systematically learn from and with each other as colleagues. In other words, networking is characterised by ‘horizontal learning’ as opposed to ‘vertical learning’, that is, learning conducted by an external expert. Thus, this type of learning can be described by the ‘lower triangle’ in Figure 6.1. Empirical research on this kind of teacher learning is beginning to appear (e.g. Galesloot et al., 1997; Ryan, 1999). This research has shown that conversations about practice in network settings are not always productive. For learning in networks to occur, it seems important that teachers share similar school tasks, but have different experiences performing these tasks in their own schools. Moreover, it is important that teachers apply specific procedures to help each other gain a better insight into their own practice or knowledge of teaching. For instance, a questionbased procedure, such as the ‘critical friend’ approach (e.g. Ponte, 2002) may be useful in this respect. Finally, it seems that external conditions, such as available time, need to be related to internal or personal conditions (e.g. one’s expectations of a network and prior experiences) so as to create an adequate learning environment. Specific results of learning in networks refer to a growth in teachers’ confidence in the value of their own practical knowledge for other teachers, and an increase in willingness to experiment with ideas from colleagues in their own classrooms. In the following sections, we will describe some of the results of two of our own research projects that focused on the development of science teachers’ PCK, in the context of an in-service and a pre-service teacher education programme (Van Driel et al., 1998; Van Driel and De Jong, 2001). Both programmes had a similar design that combined the teaching of a series of lessons about a particular topic, applying an experimental or innovative approach, with a number of network meetings or workshops, focusing on collegial interactions. We will summarise how this design contributed to the development of the participating teachers’ PCK.

Knowledge through collegial interaction 105

Study 1: Enhancing experienced teachers’ PCK about chemical equilibrium Context and aims of the project The first of these projects was conducted within a long-term research programme in the Netherlands on chemical education (De Vos and Verdonk, 1985). In this particular project, the focus was on the introduction of the concept of chemical equilibrium during the second year of chemistry education (cf. Grade 10; age of students: 15–16 years). The project consisted of: (1) an experimental course on chemical equilibrium; and (2) the formation of a network of experienced chemistry teachers who were interested in the teaching and learning of chemical equilibrium. Teachers participating in the network used the experimental course in their own classes, and had meetings before, during and after the period in which the experimental course was taught. The network and the meetings were organised by university staff, with the overall aim of developing the participating teachers’ PCK of chemical equilibrium. In particular, the aims were to improve their abilities to recognise specific preconceptions and conceptual difficulties related to chemical equilibrium, and to promote their use of interventions and strategies promoting conceptual change during classroom practice. These goals were to be realised by a combination of teachers’ use of our experimental course in their own classes, and their participation in the network. An important element of the network meetings consisted of sharing and discussing experiences with the experimental courses, and ideas about teaching chemical equilibrium. Method Twelve participants attended the network meetings. All had an academic background in chemistry and more than five years experience in teaching chemistry in upper secondary education. As the topic of chemical equilibrium is a key subject in the national curriculum, all participants were familiar with this topic, both as learners and as teachers. All participants had chosen to join the network on a voluntary basis. Mostly, their choice was inspired either by interest in the topic or by the wish to innovate their educational practice. The first author of this chapter had designed the experimental course and initiated the network. He visited several of the network members at their schools, attending lessons in which the experimental course was used. Also, he prepared a programme for the network meetings. During these meetings, he would sometimes present specific results from his studies on student learning of chemical equilibrium, and he facilitated the teachers’ group discussions. All network meetings were audio-taped. Additional data consisted of participants’ written responses to an evaluative questionnaire. Moreover,

106 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

during the implementation stage, audio recordings were made of classroom lessons of two of the participants. The analysis of the data consisted of a stepwise procedure. This involved the selection of audio fragments relevant with respect to teachers’ PCK, followed by transcription and analysis of these fragments by two researchers who compared and discussed their individual interpretations until agreement occurred (Janesick, 1994). Results During the first network meeting, the participants discussed their previous experiences with the teaching of chemical equilibrium. They appeared to consider the introduction of chemical equilibrium problematic for many students. Moreover, most participants themselves struggled with the abstract nature of chemical equilibrium, and its relation to observations during chemical experiments. To facilitate students’ understanding, almost every participant appeared to use metaphors and analogies. Some used an analogy included in their chemistry schoolbook. Others had worked out their own analogies. During the first network meetings, participants discussed the strengths and weaknesses of each other’s favourite analogies. Common in these analogies were anthropomorphic elements, that is, the representation of molecules by people, or the attribution of human characteristics to molecules (e.g. ‘molecules don’t fancy changing’). Remarkable in their discussion was that chemical validity seemed to prevail. Arguments from the students’ perspective were barely noticed. Following the first network meeting, participants implemented the experimental course in their chemistry classes. Clearly, the implementation process had a great impact on the teachers. This was evidenced by teachers’ reports during consecutive network meetings and their responses to the questionnaire evaluating the project. First, many of them indicated that by listening carefully to their students, while they were working with the experimental course, their understanding of specific student conceptions and types of reasoning had improved. During network meetings, many concrete examples were described and discussed by the group of participants. This is illustrated in the following fragment of a discussion about students’ conceptions of reversible chemical reactions, which was recorded during the final network meeting: Teacher 1:

One of my students had problems with the idea of reversibility. Sounding very surprised, she said, “But I don’t see it becoming pink, and then back to blue, and then pink again and back to blue again.” She really missed the traffic light. Researcher: The term ‘reversible’ itself implies forward and backward. Teacher 1: Forward and backward are separated in time. You can’t be

Knowledge through collegial interaction 107

on your way to an island with a boat and at the same time go back, or something like that. Researcher: You only go back after you’ve arrived. Teacher 2: Still it makes sense to discuss these ideas with students. That it would be like a traffic light if you could observe individual molecules. Such discussions may turn out to be very productive. At least, that’s my experience. Teacher 3: For me, it was very instructive when a student reasoned that colour of constant intensity was caused by different molecules all the time. His idea was that new molecules were continuously formed, but as the colour remained unchanged, they had to be different molecules all the time. . . . Thus he overcame the idea of forward-and-backward. But this was only in one group. But I could use this argument in other groups as well! The above transcript is only a short fragment of a longer discussion, during which the participants discussed student problems they had observed, and teaching strategies and representations they had used more or less successfully. Thus, teachers stimulated each other to tell about their classroom experiences, and listened and responded to each other’s accounts. These experience-based interactions required the teachers to structure and restructure their ideas, which contributed to their development of PCK. During the network meetings many similar examples were observed of teachers discussing classroom experiences with respect to the teaching and learning of chemical equilibrium. As in the above example, some teachers reported on approaches that differ considerably from the representations of chemical equilibrium commonly found in chemistry schoolbooks. For instance, teachers sometimes reported success in promoting conceptual change by discussing the anomalous results of certain chemical experiments with students. By challenging students’ existing conceptions about chemical reactions, they provided students with the basis for the chemical equilibrium conception to become an acceptable explanation of these anomalies. At the same time, however, the participants reported both successes and failures with respect to the introduction of chemical equilibrium. In any case, the participating teachers showed great interest in the ideas and experiences of each other, and often engaged in extensive discussions focusing on how their students responded to the experimental course, and on ideas how to improve their teaching of chemical equilibrium. Overview Obviously, not every individual participant in the network reconstructed his or her PCK in a similar way. However, by looking for common

108 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

patterns in the PCK of individual teachers, we were able to identify two different teaching strategies which appeared particularly powerful in promoting student understanding of chemical equilibrium (Van Driel et al., 1998). Moreover, the network appeared to have contributed substantially to the enhancement of the participants’ PCK. In particular, the opportunity the participants had to discuss their experiences with an innovative approach (i.e. the experimental course) with each other, and with the author of the course was an important element that helped the participants to understand student learning in the field of chemical equilibrium. Moreover, critical discussions concerning the use of analogies and metaphors during the introduction of dynamic equilibrium, and of the ways chemical equilibrium is introduced in commonly used schoolbooks, added to the participants’ awareness of strengths and weaknesses of various teaching strategies in this area.

Study 2: Developing pre-service teachers’ PCK about models and modelling in science Context and aims of the project The second project was situated in the context of a one-year post-graduate teacher education programme, qualifying for the teaching of chemistry at pre-university level in the Netherlands (cf. Grades 10–12 of secondary education). Before entering this programme, a participant needs to have obtained a Master’s degree in chemistry. During the whole of the teacher education programme, the pre-service teachers work in schools. After a short period of observing and discussing their mentors’ lessons, they begin to teach their own classes (about four to eight lessons per week). These classes are regularly observed by their mentors. Throughout the programme, the pre-service teachers form a small group of four to eight members. As a group, they take part in weekly institutional meetings and workshops. Individually, each one teaches chemistry at a different school. The programme incorporates experience-based interactions to contribute to the development of the PCK of the participating pre-service teachers. The present study focuses on the development of PCK on a central issue in chemistry teaching, that is, the use of models and modelling in chemistry (cf. Van Driel and Verloop, 1999). Chemistry textbooks for secondary education contain many examples of scientific models, usually presenting these models as static facts. In spite of the current emphasis on constructivist teaching strategies, these books only rarely include assignments inviting the students to actively construct, test, or revise models.

Knowledge through collegial interaction 109

Method and procedures Two groups of pre-service teachers of chemistry were involved in this study. One group consisted of four pre-service teachers, whereas the other group had eight members. All of these twelve pre-service teachers had little or no teaching experience. Both groups followed the same programme as far as the theme of models and modelling was concerned. Central in this programme was the teaching of a series of lessons focusing on this theme. Before this teaching experience, during a workshop session the pre-service teachers were asked to reflect on their own learning process as a student, and to discuss these reflections in their group. During a following group discussion, they were asked to relate these reflections to their experiences during classroom lessons so far, and their study of the literature, in order to identify specific teaching and learning difficulties. Subsequently, the pre-service teachers formulated teaching intentions, which then formed the basis for their design of a series of lessons focusing on the theme of models and modelling. After teaching these lessons, the pre-service teachers were asked to write reflective reports. During one or two final group meetings, all the individual reports were discussed by the group and their educator. A qualitative in-depth study was designed. In order to monitor the development of PCK, a multi-method approach was chosen (Baxter and Lederman, 1999). Data were collected at specific moments during the teacher education programme, and included: (1) written responses to a pre-teaching questionnaire about learning and teaching of models and modelling; (2) audio recordings of workshop sessions and group meetings; (3) individual reflective reports about experiences during teaching practice; and (4) individual written responses to a post-teaching questionnaire about factors and activities influencing the pre-service teachers’ ideas about teaching about models and modelling. The analysis of the data involved comparing the pre- and post-teaching responses of each individual pre-service teacher, focusing on specific learning difficulties they identified, the teaching activities they described, as well as the factors they mentioned as influential on their ideas about teaching about models and modelling. In addition, the transcripts of the group sessions were analysed, focusing on relations between what was said during group discussion, and what was written in individual reports.

Results The data contained ample evidence that most of the pre-service teachers in this study displayed distinct development of PCK about models and modelling. Summarising the results, it appeared that, in the first place, they had become more aware of the role of models and modelling in the

110 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

teaching of chemistry. Second, they gained a better understanding of the specific difficulties connected with the learning of particular models or modelling activities. Finally, most of them presented evidence of increased knowledge of the use of specific teaching activities in the domain of models and modelling. Also, it was very obvious that the specific PCK the pre-service teachers developed in the course of the programme on teaching models and modelling differed substantially. These differences are related to the fact that the pre-service teachers had taught about different topics. As PCK refers to particular topics, this finding is consistent with our conceptualisation of PCK. Another explanation for the differences in PCK development concerns the observation that the pre-service teachers differed in their focus of attention. Whereas some of them indeed focused on models and modelling as a central theme in chemistry teaching, others apparently were more concerned about the specific content of the topic (e.g. the conceptualisation of the mole, or conventions in electrochemistry) they had been teaching. Finally, some pre-service teachers were mostly concerned with general issues of teaching, in particular classroom management. The impact of collegial interaction on the development of the participants’ PCK was most evident during the final workshops, during which the teaching experiences with the self-designed series of lessons were discussed. In these discussions, each participant discussed his or her experiences in terms of an analysis of student learning difficulties they had noticed. These individual analyses were often recognised by other participants, who would then present their own analyses, which often led to indepth discussions. An example of such a group discussion is given below. In this case, the pre-service teachers discussed the difficulties experienced by students associated with the use of molecular models in relation to reaction equations: Teacher R.: They understand the counting. Water can be made out of 3 balls, one of which has a certain colour and the other two have a different colour. Next, they understand that H2 and O2 emerge. But what the reaction equation has to do with those models, practically no-one really understands. Apparently, they don’t understand the difference between atoms and molecules. Teacher W.: Yes, and they don’t understand the index in that respect. They easily turn Cl2 into Cl3 if they need an extra Cl atom to obtain a balanced reaction equation. Teacher R.: Yes, you need to constantly make them aware that only the reaction coefficients may be changed, and not the molecules themselves. Well, I think I succeeded in making that clear to them.

Knowledge through collegial interaction 111

Teacher J.:

Yes, you should say that when you change the molecules, you change the substance.

This fragment demonstrates that the pre-service teachers had more or less similar experiences teaching this particular topic, and analysed the learning difficulties of their students in a similar way. Also, they seemed to agree about teaching strategies that could be used successfully in this area. Therefore, a discussion like this is likely to support or strengthen the emergent PCK of the individual participants. As for the influence of specific activities on the pre-service teachers’ ideas about teaching of models and modelling, it appeared that, not surprisingly, they considered their classroom experiences, teaching their selfdesigned series of lessons, as the most important factor. In their explanations, some of them mentioned the usefulness of particular models in clarifying the content of specific topics for the students. It appeared that the second most important factor for the pre-service teachers had been the group discussions during the workshop sessions and meetings. In particular, the sessions that were devoted to the presentation and discussion of the reflective reports about the lesson series on models and modelling, were considered very useful. Three of the participants even considered these discussions to be the most influential activity. One of them described the impact of these meetings as the most powerful confrontation with the realities of classroom teaching. That is, the group discussions had urged him to reflect on what he had done in the classroom, why he had chosen a certain approach, and how he would teach the same topic in the future. Another explained that during one of these discussions her peers had made it clear for her that students, unlike chemists, often had great difficulties relating models and reality, and vice versa. The third pre-service teacher stated that he had discovered new relationships between ‘macro’ and ‘micro’ chemistry as a result of these discussions. Overview Although great individual differences were found among the pre-service teachers with respect to the development of their PCK, we concluded that, on the whole, the design of our programme, which combined individual teaching experiences at practice schools with group meetings and workshops, was effective. In particular, these group sessions were apparently very important for the pre-service teachers (in our study) to stimulate reflection, and to become aware of different perspectives with respect to teaching a specific topic. Therefore, we recommend combining the organisation of specific field-based activities, such as planning, conducting, and evaluating a series of lessons on a particular topic with group sessions to

112 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard

discuss the experiences of pre-service teachers, who work individually in different schools.

Conclusion In this final section, we will attempt to connect the findings of the projects reported above with the model of teacher learning, presented earlier in this chapter. In the first place, the results of these projects demonstrate that the development of pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) is a complicated process, which does not proceed in a simple linear manner. A similar conclusion can be found in other publications about science teachers’ PCK and its development (e.g. Lederman et al., 1994; Loughran et al., 2000), and is acknowledged in models of PCK (e.g. Magnusson et al., 1999). Next, these projects have produced evidence of the role of various variables that may contribute to, or mediate the development of PCK. In some cases, teachers responded very positively to, for instance, excerpts from the research literature about models and modelling in science education (e.g. Grosslight et al., 1991). We assume that in those cases, teachers could connect their existing PCK to the information presented in this literature. That is, their PCK helped them to recognise the importance or the implications of this literature, whereas this literature stimulated teachers’ further development of PCK (cf. arrows 1A and 1B in Figure 6.1). Given the individual differences between teachers’ PCK, it is clear that teachers will respond differently to this type of (external) input. We also collected evidence, for instance, in the reflective reports written by the pre-service teachers in Study 2, that teachers learned from their individual experiences with their self-designed lesson series. Through reflection on those experiences, that is, by trying to make sense of what happened in a specific classroom situation, teachers often reported new insights with respect to their understanding of specific learning difficulties, or about the possibilities or shortcomings of a certain teaching strategy. In such cases, which may be described by arrows 4A and 4B in Figure 6.1, teachers act as directors of their own learning process. In the words of Parke and Coble (1997), teachers then act as ‘architects for change’, which may be seen as a strong indication of teachers taking up leadership roles. In addition, there was ample evidence in these projects of situations where the development of PCK was mediated by collegial interactions. Examples of such evidence were included in the previous sections. In most of these cases, group discussions about teaching experience (arrow 5 in Figure 6.1) provided the input for a collective comparison of ideas about specific difficulties of students, or about particular teaching approaches (e.g. using certain analogies to explain chemical equilibrium). In such discussions, teachers would often explicitly refer to their existing PCK (arrow 6B in Figure 6.1). At the same time, such discussions appeared to

Knowledge through collegial interaction 113

contribute to the further development of this PCK (arrow 6A). Because the process of revising or extending PCK is ultimately an individual mental activity, it is hard to collect data that form a ‘direct’ indication of this process taking place. However, it often happened, as exemplified in one of the transcripts included above, that a group discussion stimulated a teacher to be explicit about what he or she learned from a particular classroom event. This may be interpreted as the process represented by arrow 4A, being made explicit, or visible, through collegial interactions. Alternatively, one may also argue that explaining one’s PCK in a group discussion requires a restructuring of this PCK which would imply that this is an example of learning directly through collegial interaction (arrow 6A). In any case, this illustrates the importance of these collegial interactions. From a leadership perspective, one could argue that, individually, teachers are directors of their own professional development, but, at the same time, they can have a strong influence on each other’s professional development. Taken together, we conclude from these projects that a programme design that incorporates multiple ways to promote the development of teachers’ PCK can be very effective. That is, we think it is important to design courses or programmes that include external input, experimentation in practice, as well as collegial interactions. We think that such a comprehensive approach is potentially more powerful than approaches that are restricted to some of these elements, and can be represented by triangles in Figure 6.1 (e.g. the ‘upper’ triangle, which omits collegial interactions, or the ‘left’ triangle, which does not include experimentation in practice). To this we should add that for a course to be effective, sufficient time is needed for sustained changes in teachers’ knowledge to take place (Thompson and Zeuli, 1999). In this way, teacher learning has a high level of local ownership and is stimulated by the ideas and experiences of colleagues. From this perspective, teacher leadership is grounded in teachers’ work in their own classroom context, and may be enhanced by external input as well as by establishing collegial networks of science teachers.

References AAAS (American Association for the Advancement of Science) (1993) Project 2061: Benchmarks for Science Literacy. New York: Oxford University Press. Baxter, J. A. and Lederman, N. G. (1999) Assessment and measurement of pedagogical content knowledge. In J. Gess-Newsome and N. G. Lederman (eds), Examining Pedagogical Content Knowledge. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer, pp. 147–161. Beijaard, D., Verloop, N., Wubbels, Th. and Feiman-Nemser, S. (2001) The professional development of teachers. In R. J. Simons, J. van der Linden and T. Duffy (eds), New Learning. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer, pp. 261–274.

114 Jan van Driel and Douwe Beijaard Bencze, T. and Hodson, D. (1999) Changing practice by changing practice: Toward more authentic science and science curriculum development. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 36(5), 521–540. Clarke, D. and Hollingworth, H. (2002) Elaborating a model of teacher professional growth. Teaching and Teacher with Education, 18(8), 947–967. Cochran-Smith, M. and Lytle, S. L. (1999) Relationships of knowledge and practice: Teacher learning in communities. In A. Iran-Nejad and C. D. Pearson (eds), Review of Research in Education, vol. 24. Washington, DC: American Educational Research Association, pp. 249–305. Cohen, L. and Manion, L. (1994) Research Methods in Education. 4th edn. London and New York: Routledge. De Vos, W. and Verdonk, A. H. (1985) A new road to reactions, part 1. Journal of Chemical Education, 62(3), 238–240. Feldman, A. (1996) Enhancing the practice of physics teachers: Mechanisms for the generation and sharing of knowledge and understanding in collaborative action research. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 33(5), 513–540. Galesloot, L. J., Koetsier, C. P. and Wubbels, Th. (1997) Handelingsaspecten bij wederzijds leren van ervaren docenten [Aspects of acting in reciprocal learning of experienced teachers], Pedagogische Studiën, 74(4), 249–260. Grosslight, L., Unger, C., Jay, E. and Smyth, C. L. (1991) Understanding models and their use in science: Conceptions of middle and high school students and experts. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 28(9), 799–822. Haney, J. J., Czerniak, C. M. and Lumpe, A. T. (1996) Teacher beliefs and intentions regarding the implementation of science education reform strands. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 33(9), 971–993. Huberman, M. (1995) Networks that alter teaching: Conceptualizations, exchanges and experiments, Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice, 1(2), 193–211. Janesick, V. J. (1994) The dance of qualitative research design. In N. K. Denzin and Y. S. Lincoln (eds), Handbook of Qualitative Research Design. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, pp. 209–219. Lederman, N. G., Gess-Newsome, J. and Latz, M. S. (1994) The nature and development of pre-service science teachers’ conceptions of subject matter and pedagogy. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 31(2), 129–146. Loughran, J., Gunstone, R., Berry, A., Milroy, P. and Mulhall, P. (2000) Science cases in action: Developing an understanding of science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the National Association of Research in Science Teaching, New Orleans, LA, April. Lynch, S. (1997) Novice teachers’ encounter with National Science Education Reform: Entanglements or intelligent interconnections? Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 34(1), 3–18. Magnusson, S., Krajcik, J. and Borko, H. (1999) Nature, sources and development of pedagogical content knowledge. In J. Gess-Newsome and N. G. Lederman (eds), Examining Pedagogical Content Knowledge. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer, pp. 95–132. Mason, C. L. (1999) The TRIAD Approach: A consensus for science teaching and learning. In J. Gess-Newsome and N. G. Lederman (eds), Examining Pedagogical Content Knowledge. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Kluwer, pp. 277–292.

Knowledge through collegial interaction 115 Noffke, S. E. (1997) Professional, personal, and political dimensions of action research. Review of Educational Research, 22, 305–343. NRC (National Research Council) (1996) National Science Education Standards. Washington, DC: National Research Council. Parke, H. M. and Coble, C. R. (1997) Teachers designing curriculum as professional development: A model for transformational science teaching. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 34(8), 773–790. Ponte, P. (2002) Actie-onderzoek door docenten: Uitvoering en begeleiding in theorie en praktijk. [Action Research by Teachers: Performance and Facilitation in Theory and Practice). Leuven: Garant. Ryan, S. (1999) Constructing knowledge together: Teacher teams as learning communities. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, Montreal, Canada, April. Shulman, L. S. (1986) Paradigms and research programs in the study of teaching: A contemporary perspective. In M. C. Wittrock (ed.), Handbook of Research on Teaching. New York: Macmillan, pp. 3–36. Shulman, L. S. (1987) Knowledge and teaching: Foundations of the new reform. Harvard Educational Review, 57(1), 1–22. Thompson, C. L. and Zeuli, J. S. (1999) The frame and the tapestry: Standardsbased reform and professional development. In L. Darling-Hammond and G. Sykes (eds), Teaching as the Learning Profession: Handbook of Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, pp. 341–375. Tickle, L. (2000) Teacher Induction: The Way Ahead. Buckingham: Open University Press. Van Driel, J. H., Beijaard, D. and Verloop, N. (2001) Professional development and reform in science education: The role of teachers’ practical knowledge. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(2), 137–158. Van Driel, J. H. and De Jong, O. (2001) Investigating the development of preservice teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the National Association of Research in Science Teaching, St. Louis, MO, March. Van Driel, J. H., Verloop, N. and De Vos, W. (1998) Developing science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 35(6), 673–695. Van Driel, J. H. and Verloop, N. (1999) Teachers’ knowledge of models and modelling in science. International Journal of Science Education, 21(11), 1141–1153.

Chapter 7

Building a community of science learners through legitimate collegial participation Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

Introduction Legitimate peripheral participation provides a way to speak about the relations between newcomers and old-timers, and about activities, identities, artifacts, and communities of knowledge and practice. (Lave and Wenger, 1991, p. 29) This chapter describes the evolution of a community of practice (Lave and Wenger, 1991; Rogoff, 1997; Rogoff et al., 2002; Wenger, 1998) by presenting a case study of collegial leadership in science learning across a whole school. The study involves the school’s deputy principal Tim – the second author of the chapter and an experienced teacher of primary science – who assists teachers and children to investigate links between the school’s energy consumption and the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. In addition, pre-service teachers, acting as teacher-researchers, support the children as they construct interview and survey questions to pose to the broader community. Tim’s leadership invites students and staff to enter a community of practice through participation and engagement in collective events and activities. The case study described in this chapter shows how the school community moves from apprenticeship to situated learning, and from situated learning to legitimate peripheral participation. An analysis of the learning journey encountered by all the participants is presented through the documentation of the evolution of a community of science learners. Rather than asking what kinds of cognitive processes and conceptual structures are involved in learning, this chapter discusses what kinds of social engagements provide the proper context for learning to take place as teachers enter the science learning community (Lave and Wenger, 1991). In drawing upon the work of Lave and Wenger (1991), Rogoff (1990; 1998) and Wenger (1998), a fresh look at leadership is presented. Although researchers and scholars in school leadership have identified a range of approaches and theories underpinning leadership (e.g. see Gronn,

Building a community of science learners 117

1998; Leithwood et al., 1999; MacBeath and Myers, 1999), collegial leadership can best be linked to the category of instructional leadership: Instructional leadership, a single, separate category, typically assumes that the critical focus for attention by leaders is the behaviours of teachers as they engage in activities directly affecting the growth of students. (Leithwood et al., 1999, p. 8) Collegial leadership, like instructional leadership, takes into account classroom teachers, support teachers, children, families and the community. However, the content of this chapter moves away from the traditional Western perspective, which concentrates the research lens on the leader to examining the broader context, where all participants are seen as active agents in the development of their science learning community. In this way a participative and collegial community of practice accepts the leadership challenge to actively increase the amount and quality of science teaching across the school.

Communities of practice: learning, meaning and identity Many Western learning environments, such as schools and universities, have evolved as organizations that assume learning is an individual process, with a beginning, a middle and an end. The act of teaching can be described as occurring in these learning environments separate from the rest of human activities. These specialized learning environments develop their own rituals, routines, practices, artefacts, symbols, conventions, stories and histories. Wenger (1998) argues that schools develop their own community of practice. That is, they evolve a specialized discourse to name and explain their practices. These practices, and the terms used to describe the practices, become familiar to all the participants of that community – they hold meaning and suggest particular behaviour. However, how does collegial leadership evolve in a school, who has access to it and who benefits? Wenger (1998) argues that simply living in a world does not always afford us access to all the meaning underpinning a particular community of practice. He suggests that: By living in the world we do not just make meanings up independently of the world, but neither does the world simply impose meanings on us. The negotiation of meaning is a productive process, but negotiating meaning is not constructing it from scratch. Meaning is not preexisting, but neither is it simply made up. Negotiated meaning is at once both historical and dynamic, contextual and unique. (1998, pp. 53–54)

118 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

Negotiating meaning among people in a science learning community takes into account past practices, commonly understood routines and negotiated pathways. However, in order to join the community of practice, important communication tools are needed if collegial leadership is to be successful. The term ‘reification’, put forward by Wenger (1998), is a helpful construct for realizing how negotiated meaning takes place in a community of practice. Reification means ‘making into a thing’ – that is, ‘aspects of human experience and practice are congealed into fixed forms and given the status of objects’ (ibid., p. 59). Wenger also suggests that certain terms such as democracy or economy are talked about as though they have form and substance. They are reified terms and allow people to communicate complex ideas quickly and succinctly. In schools, terms such as childcentredness, outcomes-based education or even learning, are all reified terms used within a community of practice. Wenger argues that reification shapes our experience, as it provides us with a concrete tool to perform an activity and therefore it changes the nature of that activity: ‘Reifying the concept of gravity may not change its effect on our bodies, but it does change our experience of the world by focussing our attention in a particular way and enabling new kinds of understanding’ (ibid., pp. 59–60). Wenger argues that although reification is a powerful tool, it is also a ‘double edge sword’. In the process of concretizing and becoming more succinct, deep and complex ideas become simplified. Terms such as quality no longer hold the depth of meaning once afforded them. In fact, the same words used in different contexts can hold a range of meanings. In a leadership context, knowing about and analysing the use and abuse of reified terms are important. Particularly, if we consider that there is a perception that science teaching has been reified to be exclusive, elitist and unobtainable for many primary and early childhood teachers. This unfortunate perception mirrors the gradual social repositioning of science in our general community. In the past, amateurs of science were respected as important contributors to building scientific knowledge. However, as science became more specialized and scientific activity became located in institutions such as universities, the general public became less involved (see Barnes, 1985). Most primary and early childhood teachers have qualifications in teaching, which include the study of some science. However, many feel they do not have enough specialized science knowledge to confidently teach science (Fleer and Hardy, 2001). Lave and Wenger (1991) coined the phrase legitimate peripheral participation, which is also a useful conceptual tool for thinking about collegial leadership. The central premise of legitimate peripheral participation is that the learner, or apprentice, participates in the practice of an expert, but with limited responsibility for the ultimate product. Collegial leadership therefore privileges active participation within expert contexts. A

Building a community of science learners 119

community of practice is created by all the participants and requires active participation. However, in Western communities the emphasis of research and theory development has tended to focus on individuals and their individual experiences. Yet, as Wenger (1998) suggests, learning to be a part of the community of practice is held by all the participants (newcomers and old-timers) as a distributed process – rather than being held in the mind of individuals or as a ‘one person act’. This moves the focus from the individual to the broader community – the community of practice. A significant body of cross-cultural research has demonstrated that an individualistic orientation is culturally specific and not universal to all communities (Chavajay and Rogoff, 1999; Mosier and Rogoff, in press; Rogoff, 1990, 1998). For example, Rogoff (1990) has argued that an individual perspective in many Western communities develops early. For instance, infants are placed in cots, have separate rooms (nursery), often sleep with a teddy bear and many are given pacifiers. Interaction with infants usually occurs in a one-to-one situation, with the infant held facing the adult. However, in other communities, infants are held facing the community, encouraged to observe and participate in community activities, sleep with family members, are carried around during the day, and are fully immersed in the activities of the family and community. In the former practice, an individual orientation is important, in the latter, a community perspective is highlighted. These basic interactional patterns and belief systems foreground different views and practices. Thinking about collegial leadership from an individual perspective means that the unit of analysis would be the leader and the relationship between the leader and others – how the social factors (those being led and the environment) were influencing the directions taken by the leader. This research perspective uses the context in which the research is occurring to note how the environment may or may not influence individuals. In these contexts the unit of analysis is still the individual. Rogoff (1998) suggests that rather than studying individuals and their development as discrete units, what should occur is a reframing of research in ways that reflect the view that individual development is seen as contributing to, as well as constituted by, the sociocultural activities in which people participate. For example, rather than thinking about leadership being centred on an individual and the relationship between that individual and others, a sociocultural perspective considers the whole context – children, school staff, community members and families within this orientation: ‘researchers ask how individuals’ understanding and roles transform in their participation in socio-cultural activities and how people relate participation in one activity to another’ (ibid., p. 692). In the context of collegial leadership in science, it can then be argued that the community of practice is the site of study, and the movement from peripheral to full participation should be examined as a collective – rather

120 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

than an accumulation of individuals’ experiences. The fluid nature of the participation is not simply a linear process, from newcomer to old-timer, there is a transformation of the community, as individual agency influences the community: Legitimate peripheral participation refers both to the development of knowledgeably skilled identities in practice and to the reproduction and transformation of communities of practice. It concerns the latter insofar as communities of practice consist of and depend on a membership, including its characteristic biographies/trajectories, relationships, and practices. (Lave and Wenger, 1991, p. 55) Understanding collegial leadership as a community of practice involves a range of complexities: sociocultural organization of space into places of activity and the circulation of knowledgeable skill; about the structure of access of learners to ongoing activity and the transparency of technology, social relations, and forms of activity; about segmentation, distribution, and coordination of participation and the legitimacy of partial, increasing, changing participation within a community; about its characteristic conflicts, interests, common meanings, and intersecting interpretations and the motivation of all participants vis à vis their changing participation and identities – issues, in short, about the structure of communities of practice and their production and reproduction. (ibid., pp. 55–56) The case study that follows documents one example of collegial leadership in a primary school in the Australian Capital Territory. The school’s deputy principal Tim – the second author – participated in the evolution of a community of practice that actively supported science learning. The focus of the learning for the children, staff and community was environmental education. In this chapter we use Lave and Wenger’s (1991) work as a useful theoretical perspective to inform our thinking about the place of the school, the classroom and the broader community in children’s learning of science. In particular, children’s science experiences could be deliberately broadened when more teachers joined their learning quest. In conceptualizing science learning for children as an evolving community of practice (Wenger, 1998), it was possible to encourage peripheral to full participation (Lave and Wenger, 1991) of children and their teachers.

Building a community of science learners 121

A community of practice: a case study As deputy principal and as the science and technology specialist within the school, Tim taught all the children in the school and, as a result, was directly connected with each classroom teacher. In this case study, Tim describes in the first person the goal and context of the programme and details the children’s learning journey. He also outlines how he built collegial participation with teachers in the school through the children – as they become investigators initially in his classroom, then their regular classroom, and finally through the school community and the broader community. Goal In studying the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect, the children will become investigators – initially brainstorming questions they wish to ask each other in the school about their perceptions of the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect, and later, develop a survey for use at home and in the broader community. The context The children of Florey Primary School and I had been sharing our knowledge for six months; building a learning relationship that recognized our different backgrounds and experiences in a diverse and multicultural school setting. There had been no organized build up, or learning precedent, to the task ahead of us; and certainly no comprehensive curriculum that underpinned environmental education at a whole school level. As a new deputy principal at Florey Primary School I met with each class (twelve classes from Years 1 to 6) for forty-five minutes a week. A feature of teaching with this small amount of face-to-face contact time is that the impact is short and sharp; or lost. Establishing continuity from one week to the next is difficult; and for this reason ‘stand alone’ lessons will often be the preferred format for teachers in my position. However, through experience I have developed a style that complements socio-cultural principles and emphasizes the advantages of small periods of contact time between ‘expert and novice’ learners. As a learning community, we had prior success in constructing knowledge on a diverse range of topics. Given this familiarity with group learning, in this case, we were simply developing a new context-base specific to the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. As such, the learning community included the children’s classroom and their teachers, the children’s families, and the lessons we constructed around environmental education. In addition, we also involved pre-service teachers as co-researchers. The premise underpinning the collegial leadership was that we had

122 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

begun to analyse the changing forms of participation and identity of persons who engage in sustained participation in a community of practice: from entrance as a newcomer old-timer with respect to newcomers, to a point when those newcomers themselves become oldtimers. Rather than a teacher/learner dyad, this points to a richly diverse field of essential actors and, with it, other forms of relationships of participation. (Lave and Wenger, 1991, p. 56) The learning journey: week one What follows is Tim’s description of week one of the learning programme.

Week one: starting out on the journey Environmental Education had been identified in our School Development Plan as a content area in need of attention. ‘Connecting students with society’ was to be achieved through ‘improved environmental education’. Strategies would ‘facilitate student involvement in the management of the school environment’ and importantly for this project would include ‘organized activities that raise environmental awareness’. In recognition of the children’s varied background experiences, I deliberately chose to begin with a broad-sweeping discussion of issues related to pollution – being the generic understanding of human impact on the environment. The classroom discussion began with a general conversation that revolved around Earth’s place in space. I found a stimulus picture that showed the planet with a reddened atmosphere and asked for a response to this image. In the children’s eyes, the red ring looked powerful, showed an atmosphere, suggested the ozone layer, implied a greenhouse effect and even showed that the people on Earth were bright. The children provided a range of comments that expressed general notions of a planet surrounded by an envelope of protective gases. Confusion between the ozone layer and the greenhouse effect was evident early in the topic’s introduction. The link between a farmer’s greenhouse and the atmosphere’s greenhouse effect proved to be a useful metaphor. Both greenhouses stabilize internal environments. Children made associations between environmental control and protection. Having established notions of a controlled and protected atmosphere, the discussion turned to consider human and natural impact on the balanced blanket of gases that constitute our living environment. Tim:

Greenhouse effect occurs naturally – it’s good to be living on a planet with a greenhouse effect but we have to look after that greenhouse properly. What could happen if we don’t?

Building a community of science learners 123 Students:

The ozone layer will be destroyed. The ice caps might melt. Water levels might rise. An increase in skin cancer. Plants might start dying.

Over an extended period of time, involving much discussion and activity (e.g. lighting matches, discussing understandings of oxygen, fossil fuels etc.) the children and I concluded, “Coal, gas, wood and petrol all come from underground and are originally from plants and trees. And just like the match they release carbon dioxide when burned. The problem with carbon dioxide is that it is mixing up the balance in the atmosphere.” I then asked, “You might think that at your age you can’t do anything about this, I wonder what we could do?” Student: Tim: Student: Tim: Student:

Plant lots of trees. What would this do? Hold the carbon dioxide in the wood and make more oxygen. Is there anything else? Stop burning fossil fuels.

Having suggested that there is a possible link between the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect and human release of the gas through energy generation, I escorted the children to the school’s boiler room. The boiler room was not familiar to the children as it is normally out of bounds. We explored the site to find out its purpose and function (as a gas-fired central water heating system). Through this process we moved science activity from the classroom into the school surrounds. We were deliberately widening our community of science learning. The boiler’s consumption of gas, hence, its release of carbon dioxide in winter months, consumed the remaining classroom conversation. I used a chart with comparative figures collected from five schools of similar construction in the local region to extend the conversation from our school to our local community. As such, I had set the scene for going beyond this lesson and this classroom and well into the school community and beyond. I provided a context in which both local and global thinking could emerge and, as a result, the content and the activity of the children moved into the children’s regular classroom and began involving their class teachers. I’ve been impressed with the children’s ability to keep in touch with the topic; they seem very motivated. There’s a productive dependency that comes from their level of commitment to each other; they include me but don’t rely on me, which is great. I think that’s because the topic also has its own importance, it’s not artificial. It’s not something you can package too tightly because it changes almost daily . . . we’re learning too. (Hozuki, teacher)

124 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

Collegial leadership goes beyond simply inviting staff members to work with their peers in a school. Rather, it recognizes that a community of learners includes the children, their teachers and their families. Collegial leadership must begin with the children – as the main recipients or benefactors of leadership. Collegial leadership also recognizes that in Western society the school site has traditionally been partitioned off from the general community. Schools are constructed sites for learning – that is they are disembedded from the day-to-day lives of adults: ‘the organization of schooling as an educational form is predicated on claims that knowledge can be decontextualized’ (Lave and Wenger, 1991, p. 40). However, in some societies learning is embedded within the day-to-day activities of the community. In these environments, children are important contributors to the working of the community, and it is through observing and participating in community activity that they learn to be full members of that community. For instance, in Mayan communities children go to all activities in the community, participate in all the chores of the household and are integrated into cottage industries from a very early age (Goncu, 1999). As also noted by Rogoff: the method of learning to use the foot loom in a weaving factory in Guatemala is for the learner to sit beside a skilled weaver for some weeks, simply observing, asking no questions, and receiving no explanations. The learner may fetch a spool of thread from time to time for the weaver, but does not begin to weave until after weeks of observation, the learner feels competent to begin. At that point, the apprentice has become a skilled weaver simply by watching and by attending to whatever demonstration the experienced weaver has provided. (1990, p. 129) Chavajay and Rogoff (2002) have also shown that in some Mexican communities leadership in the traditional sense of one person leading and others following does not exist, but, rather, ‘things just get done’. For example, Chavajay and Rogoff noted that when members of a community learn that an important individual is to visit their community, no particular individual leads the planning or indeed coordinates the preparation, but rather, all members of the community simply undertake different aspects, such as organizing the hall, preparing food, sending out leaflets, without any one individual appearing to take charge. Leadership as we know it from a Western perspective, does not exist – yet everything happens as needed. Building a community of science learners through collegial leadership

Building a community of science learners 125

begins with the premise that ‘schools themselves are social institutions and as places of learning constitute very specific contexts’ (Lave and Wenger, 1991, p. 40). As such, it is important to begin collegial leadership with the children in the school and build leadership through them and with them. Collegial leadership is situated in a sociocultural context – a context which recognizes that classroom teachers will move into a community of science if they perceive that they need to join the community in order to support their children’s learning.

The learning journey: weeks two and three Weeks two and three of the case study show how a strong community with embedded learning began to develop through children gaining access to real research opportunities. In Tim’s words:

Weeks two and three: collection of thoughts In the second week of the unit I provided the children with an ‘investigators’ notebook’ which was a small spiral-bound notepad. The notepad was an important feature of the teaching approach as it formed a continuous bridge between the separate weekly lessons. It also provided a conceptual tool that linked the science and technology lessons with the activities of their classrooms and their class teachers. I explained to the students that the notepad was to be used to collect ideas and knowledge from many different sources. We discussed the role of investigation and agreed that the notepad was like a diary of growing thoughts. In Tim’s words:

While I wanted the children to seek information from a wide variety of sources I was aware that some needed assistance. Therefore, with the help of our resource teacher, I created a central bulletin board from which the children could gather inspiration. On the bulletin board was a collection of newspaper cuttings, topical posters, resource kits, brochures, song lyrics, etc. The children also contributed to the board with content from home libraries, the Internet, and newspaper cuttings. Further, a team of pre-service teachers

126 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace was also invited to participate in the project and support the children with their investigations. The pre-service teachers worked with small groups, assisting with resource gathering and the recording of children’s ideas and questions. In using a local form of collegial leadership, the resource teacher actively inducted one of the pre-service teachers into the role of resource support for the unit of science learning (Enhanced Greenhouse Effect). The pre-service teacher gained valuable knowledge of the science resources within and external to the school, and the processes for gathering and displaying materials. I have gained so much from being a part of this school community. Even though I am majoring in library studies, I now feel I know a lot more about organizing resources, the operations of the library and how the resource teacher works together with the children and teachers in the library and behind the scenes to support learning. I am definitely coming back to keep helping out – and I now know so much more about the system – who knows, I may even get a job as a teacherlibrarian. (Leonie, pre-service teacher) In many ways this week of exploration with the children, the pre-service teachers, the resource teacher and the regular classrooms teachers was a meeting of minds. We had established a rudimentary notion of our focus and were beginning to collectively define the scope of our investigations. The Enhanced Greenhouse Effect has its own content base, a degree of dissention between scientists, associated technologies and spin-off ventures. As investigators the children were just beginning to see the variety of angles that they could use to reflect upon the topic (newspaper clipping, media reports on solar-powered car race, information on methane gas both from farm animals and humans). Collegial leadership with the children grew from individuals investigating the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect to a broader community of practice involving the resource teacher, the librarian, the class teacher, media reports on TV, the Internet, families, and so on. The children used investigator notebooks to act as if they were Sherlock Holmes and began to build their interactional sphere from the classroom to the school and into the community. The project began to touch the families, the teachers and community members as children actively took their investigators’ notebooks into their classrooms, homes, shopping centres and other local environments (see Figure 7.1).

Building a community of science learners 127

Figure 7.1 Sample pages from the children’s investigator notebooks.

The children’s activity had ceased to be a disembedded school-based learning task, to one of embedded and real learning. The class teachers involved themselves in the children’s learning journey and were activated to join the community of learners: ‘Environmental Education is an area of study that ignores subject boundaries. As such it suits a whole school (community of practice) approach. I like the way we all contribute our different activities to build a common story’ (Ingrid, teacher). Collegial leadership moved beyond the borders of the specialist science and technology teacher’s classroom and was instrumental in building a community of science learning for the children. The children’s growing capacity to engage in useful conversations between themselves and staff enabled new possibilities to be explored. Without a shared language (reified terminologies) there is no reference point from which to build whole school activity; there is no meaningful context to use as an activity base: Exposure to environmental conversations in the classroom gives relevance to participation in big picture activities such as ‘World Environment Day’ or ‘Arbour Day’. Our involvement in those one-day events is just a token gesture if the children don’t have the language and understanding to give them a working background. (Jason, teacher) The learning journey: week four In week four, the children began to work on their ultimate goal, to compile, refine and administer a survey of their peers. In Tim’s words:

128 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

Week four and beyond: survey interviews Each week the children were reminded that our final goal was to help compile questions to be used in a survey that investigated other children’s knowledge and opinions about the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. This gave the task a very real sense of purpose. We had collectively compiled our knowledge with an aim in mind; and now was the time to begin to put together the pieces. I was not sure that the children really knew the meaning or function of a survey and therefore began this lesson with a brief introduction to surveys in general. To achieve this we created a survey that investigated the nature of colour preference. In doing so, the children gained insight into open and closed questions, general and specific questions, grouped and ungrouped questions. To assist with the process of gathering questions for the survey more preservice teachers were invited to help lead small groups of children in structured brainstorming. The pre-service teachers and I had met previously to exchange thoughts on the process and agree on the nature of our group management and assistance. Each class group was randomly divided into smaller groups of about four children to one adult. The groups followed similar patterns of brainstorming but were allowed to follow trains of thought and conversations of interest relating to the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. The children’s individual notepads were in most cases the conversational starting points. It was therefore the case that each group began with quite different but related discussions; driven by the children’s own investigations, insights, and content knowledge. In this way the groups expressed quite different interests and perspectives according to the make-up of each group. After twenty minutes of group brainstorming the children were regathered to collectively summarize the results. The children were asked to classify the conversations into sub-topics under the broad heading of Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. Although there were obvious differences between class groups, essentially, topics fell into categories such as: fossil fuels; alternative energies; environmental impact; and human consequences. The questions that evolved were:

The ozone layer What does the ozone layer do? If we didn’t have the ozone layer what would happen to the Earth? How do you think we can help the ozone layer? Do you know how to take care of the ozone layer? Renewable energy What do you know about renewable energy sources? Why do we need reusable energy? Would you use solar power to help the greenhouse effect? Why is it so important?

Building a community of science learners 129 Atmosphere and gases What are the greenhouse gases? What does carbon dioxide do to planet Earth? Do you know how to reduce the amount of carbon dioxide released into the atmosphere? How can we help the greenhouse effect stop ruining the atmosphere? What is the difference between the atmosphere and the ozone layer? What will happen when the Earth warms up? Fossil fuels What are fossil fuels? What happens when fossil fuels are burned? If there weren’t enough fossil fuels, what would happen? How do fossil fuels affect the environment? Water Do we know another way to not use as much water? How can we make the water clean? Will the world’s water rise? Animals/life How does global warming affect animals, human beings and plants? What animals give methane? Plants/life How can we stop cutting trees down? How do trees breathe carbon dioxide and oxygen?

Pollution – rubbish and recycling What will happen if we keep polluting? What are different ways that cause pollution? How does recycling help the world become a better place? Do you recycle? Did rubbish from the tip create carbon dioxide? What do you do with rubbish? Transport What type of transport will we be using in the future? What type of fuel will they use? Would you buy a solar-powered car? What ideas do you have about what we can use for cars in the future? Home/energy usage How many times do you walk instead of driving? Do you use a lot of electricity? Will we still be able to use as many resources as we do today?

130 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace What could you do to save energy? If you had a choice between solar power and electricity, which one would you use? Do you think you could use your car less often? What energy should we use in the future? Do you have anything that doesn’t rely on electricity? What would happen if all the electricity ran out? How much energy do you think you use per day? Science/technology fixes Do you think people should use alternative energy? Having gathered an enormous number of student-generated questions, the task was now to use them in assisting in the compilation of the draft survey. It was obviously important that we continue to use student input into this phase of the task. To do so, in a manageable process, required the use of a small group of Year 6 (12-year-old) children. These children were selected as fairly independent but team-minded students able to function as a taskfocused group. Three times a week the seven students (known as the Press Gang) met for forty-five minutes to plan and carry out their assignments. In this case they were briefed on what lay ahead of them. They were reminded of the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect lessons and provided with a summary of the questions raised by class groups in the brainstorming session some weeks earlier (see students’ questions in previous section). The Press Gang came up with a survey that could be used within and external to the school. With a cassette recorder in hand the children were asked to trial their survey on members of their own family. In a debriefing of this ‘home interview task’ the Press Gang identified three common features of the interaction: (1) parents thought it was homework and therefore took on an unexpected role “dad ended up giving me a lesson!” (2) Adults knew a lot more than the children had expected “I don’t know where they got the information from . . . they just knew the answers” and (3) it took a while to make the questions clear “I had to keep explaining what the questions meant.”

The classroom teachers became important members of the community of practice as they supported their children’s learning: As some of my students began discussing the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect with their families I was drawn into the conversation by a parent who asked me for more information. The quickest source of knowledge, as I knew nothing about the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect, was to ask my class for help. The question answer dialogue became a group task; and sure enough, we collectively provided a useful response. (Helen, teacher)

Building a community of science learners 131

The community of practice centred on science learning. Classroom teachers who had not previously participated in science teaching, or who had done so reluctantly, came into the community of science learning. Collegial leadership with and through the children facilitated a safe passage for teachers from no or limited science teaching to being full participants of a science community: ‘As I repositioned myself in the classroom relationship I can see new potentials that incorporate the value of children as fellow members in our shared investigations. We lead and follow all at once – I kind of coordinate’ (Andrew, teacher).

Once the children had completed the ‘home task’ – trialling the survey – it was now arranged that the Press Gang would carry out an interview of younger peers – to once again trial the survey on its way to completion. Follow-up discussions, and a reading of the interview transcripts, confirmed that children in the middle years of primary school have a rudimentary understanding of the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. Members of the Press Gang reflected on the process and commented that, “the younger children just make things up if they don’t know an answer!” or, “they knew lots of words but couldn’t put them together properly.” Much of the reflection focused on group dynamics during the interviews. Finally, all the children in the school were given the following brief:

Being a reporter It’s your turn to be a Reporter! Over the past month many of you have been helping the University of Canberra to write a survey about the Greenhouse Effect. Here is your list of questions (survey) for you to ask friends and family over the holidays. Ask Mr Grace for a cassette tape so you can act like a reporter and record their answers. So pop on your reporters’ hat and get started! (Don’t forget to bring the tape back next year.) Not only were the pupils engaged in the task of acting as reporters, they were also very interested in seeking out community views on the enhanced greenhouse effect. The children were developing skills that reflected real world roles and responsibilities. Classroom teachers were also developing understandings, seeing science learning opportunities within their community and teaching science, as noted by one teacher, ‘Our water catchment area is a rich curriculum resource that we haven’t fully recognized. It’s geographical but there’s a cultural map that the community shares around the lake as well. Environmental education is really about people and places.’

132 Marilyn Fleer and Tim Grace

Critical insights Collegial leadership was enacted by Tim with the children. In centring on children and their learning, classroom teachers were drawn into the evolving community of science practice. Situated learning was created for the classroom teachers as they supported their children and worked together with Tim to explore the Enhanced Greenhouse Effect. The development of a community of science practice created a context in which the boundaries for learning were not defined by one single classroom, but were deliberately broad. The evolving community of practice included the staff in the school, the families of the children, community members, and local, regional and international contexts. As children worked with Tim to establish a body of knowledge and to develop survey writing and interview skills, classroom teachers, the resource teacher and the pre-service teachers moved from being peripheral participants to becoming full members of the science learning community. However, the pathways taken were not linear: ‘we must not forget that communities of practice are engaged in the generative process of producing their own future’ (Lave and Wenger, 1991, pp. 57–58). Membership of the community evolved and reluctant teachers of science not only taught science, but also influenced the dynamics and directions of the community of practice in the school. As such, Tim was able to foster science teaching across the school resulting in increased science learning time for children. When using collegial leadership we ‘place more emphasis on connecting issues of sociocultural transformation with the changing relations between newcomers and old-timers in the context of a changing shared practice’ (ibid., p. 49). Collegial leadership is about situated learning – learning that is immediately relevant, important to the learners (teachers as well as pupils). Collegial leadership is about embedded practices – real-life experiences for children, which broaden the community beyond the classroom, thus being inclusive and pervasive across the whole school staff. Disembedded learning encourages separateness, discreteness and the development of classroom boundaries. As such, Tim created authentic science learning opportunities for the children. Collegial leadership is about recognizing that a community of practice is dynamic and recreates its future as all participants share in the transformation of sociocultural activity surrounding science learning. In his role as deputy principal, Tim helped make science learning highly visible in the school, children’s homes and in the broader community. As a result, all members of the school community began to take responsibility for the children’s science learning. Finally, collegial leadership is about the movement of staff from being peripheral participants of science teaching to becoming full members of a science learning community.

Building a community of science learners 133

References Barnes, B. (1985) About Science. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Chavajay, P. and Rogoff, B. (1999) Cultural variation in management of attention by children and their caregivers. Developmental Psychology, 35(4), 1079–1091. Chavajay, P. and Rogoff, B. (2002) Schooling and traditional collaborative social organization of problem solving by Mayan mothers and children. Developmental Psychology, 38(1), 55–66. Fleer, M. and Hardy, T. (2001) Science for Children: Developing a Personal Approach to Teaching. 2nd edn. Sydney, Australia: Pearson Education. Goncu, A. (ed.) (1999) Children’s Engagement in the World: Sociocultural Perspectives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gronn, P. (1998) Life in Teams: Collaborative Leadership and Learning in Autonomous Work Units. ACEA Monograph Series 24, Melbourne: Australian Council for Educational Administration. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. (1991) Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Leithwood, K., Jantzi, D. and Steinbach, R. (1999) Changing Leadership for Changing Times. Philadelphia, PA: Open University Press. MacBeath, J. and Myers, K. (1999) Effective School Leaders: How to Evaluate and Improve your Leadership Potential. London: Pearson Education. Mosier, C. E. and Rogoff, B. (in press) Privileged treatment of toddlers: Cultural aspects of autonomy and responsibility. Autonomy and Responsibility. Rogoff, B. (1990) Apprenticeship in Thinking: Cognitive Development in Social Context. New York: Random House. Rogoff, B. (1997) Evaluating development in the process of participation: Theory, methods, and practice building on each other. In E. Amsel and A. Renninger (eds), Change and Development. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum, pp. 265–285. Rogoff. B. (1998) Cognition as a collaborative process. In W. Damon (ed.), and D. Kuhn and R. S. Siegler (volume eds), Cognition, Perceptions and Language. 5th edn. Handbook of Child Psychology, 679–744. Rogoff, B., Topping, K., Baker-Sennett, J. and Lacasa, P. (2002) Mutual contributions of individuals, partners, and institutions: Planning to remember in Girl Scout cookie sales. Social Development, 11(2), 266–289. Wenger, E. (1998) Communities of Practice. Learning, Meaning and Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Chapter 8

Community-based science education leadership enacted in a Filipino barangay Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

Introduction This chapter explores leadership as part of a larger study about creating community-based science through a collaborative research project involving teachers and science teacher educators in the Philippines. As we reviewed the plethora of literature regarding leadership in education, it was readily apparent that much of this work is steeped in research from industrialist nations. Little has been written about educational leadership as it configures into the life-world of developing nations. Our experiences working among science teachers in the Philippines over a three-year period have provided us with alternative ways of thinking about leadership and local change in science education. According to Sandy White Hawk, a Lakota woman from South Dakota, the term leadership does not exist within the language of the Lakota tribal community (Simms, 2000). She asserts that the concept of leader is detrimental to the life-world of the Lakota people: Power wielding and intimidation in one’s personal life destroy self. Power wielding and intimidation in leadership destroy community. . . . Leadership is a troublesome word because we don’t think of it as that. We don’t put people on levels. Momentarily, we rise to the occasion, but that is all. (ibid., pp. 637–638) The Lakota perspective of leadership diverges from the common conception of leadership wherein one leads and others follow. White Hawk’s perspective calls for reflection on our notions of science education leadership as, models drawn from Western life-worlds may be culturally destructive to some communities (see also Waldrip and Taylor, 1999). In this chapter we study leadership as a cultural dimension of practicing ‘community-based science education’ in a rural area of the Philippines.

Science education leadership in a barangay 135

Community-based science education and leadership Science education and leadership discourses predominantly reflect Western values – with science education grounded in modernist traditions, and leadership rooted in the interests of capitalist industry. Our interpretive orientations within this study reflect feminist and pragmatic views of community and leadership. Charlene Seigfried conceptually linked pragmatism and feminism to define these as ‘a philosophical theory grounded in practice with the goal of empowering all members of society to help determine the conditions according to which we live’ (1993, p. 2). In this section, we will briefly describe ideas that have shaped our thinking about community-based science education and leadership. According to Dewey, ‘the fullness of sharing in the intellectual and spiritual resources of the community is the very meaning of the community’ (cited in Seigfried, 1993, p. 2). This statement reflects Dewey’s vision of the school and wider community as seamless and continuously interacting. His pragmatic view of community resonates with our own as it resists portrayal of a static, bounded condition, rather, community is agency enacted through communicative processes. We see the concept of community as important particularly as globalization trends bring greater challenges related to cultural diversity and identity for today’s young learners. Recently, researchers have critically considered how science learning configures into the life-worlds of students – particularly those who have become disenfranchised from schools (i.e. Barton, 1998; Brickhouse and Potter, 2001; Fusco, 2001; Gilbert and Yerrick, 2001; Hammond, 2001; Rosser, 1990; Seiler, 2001). These studies essentially share a common interest in understanding the ways ‘community funds of knowledge’ (Moll and Greenberg, 1990) and issues of identity need to be considered in revisioning what is meaningful within the practice of science education. This line of research sharply contrasts that which is typically offered in science education, wherein the underlying interest is in learners who gain value as they develop their capacity to use science knowledge as ‘cultural capital’ (i.e. Bourdieu and Passeron, 1990). The study we outline in this chapter conjoins the work of those concerned with the intersections of science education, power and cultural diversity. We were intrigued with William Foster’s interpretation of leadership as a practice shared among community members: Leadership . . . is not a function of position but rather represents a conjunction of ideas where leadership is shared and transferred between leaders and followers, each only a temporary designation . . . in reality the job is one in which various members of the community contribute. (1989, p. 49)

136 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

Kenneth Strike similarly defined leadership as ‘the ability to act with others to do things that could not be done by an individual alone’ (1993, p. 123). The emphasis shared within these interpretations of leadership highlights collective agency as essential to actions of leadership. Based on insights we gained during three years of study in the Philippines, we anticipated that a collective view of leadership would be a viable lens for understanding actions and change within our larger study of communitybased science education. In this study, we worked with Filipino teachers in the barangay (i.e. town, smallest political unit) of Silan to envision science education as it intersects the socio-historical and changing needs of local citizens’ lifeworlds. The Philippines offered a rich context to examine science education and leadership as it is often described in terms of being an impoverished nation. What should science education attempt to accomplish in this setting? What would constitute leadership that could envision meaningfulness in science learning experiences by citizens of Silan? Accordingly, the following research questions have guided our inquiry of community-based science education leadership within this study: 1 2 3

What does it mean to practice leadership in ‘community-based’ science education? What constitutes agency for science education leadership enacted within the school and community of Silan? What referents might be considered as ‘leading’ science education undertaken in Silan during this study?

In the section that follows, we take a brief look at educational leadership as a legacy of industrial, Western history. We use these ideas as a basis for analyzing dimensions of leadership framed within this study of community-based science education.

Western marketplace leadership legacies and science education Science education and leadership discourses reflect a Western heritage – with science education grounded in modernist epistemology, and leadership rooted in the interests of capitalist industry. At the turn of the nineteenth century, the Western industrial nations fueled the quest to create leaders who could efficiently ensure high yields of productivity from workers for the ultimate goals of economic and political gain. In the process, the concept of leadership became intertwined with bureaucratic management – a shift that has pervasively influenced views of educational leadership. In organizations, the manager-leader is a conduit between organization and labor, and has clearly defined roles for motivating and

Science education leadership in a barangay 137

producing to meet the goals of the organization. Organizational leadership and management theories have assumed a static, one-directional flow of power from the leader to the led; in schools, this relationship translated into a hierarchy of power from the school administrator, to the lower ranks of teachers, students (Foster, 1989). The influence of managerial-leadership on the function of schools is evident in models such as ‘effective leadership,’ ‘site-based management,’ and ‘total quality management’ – approaches that have been adopted by educational institutions worldwide (e.g. Cheng and Wong, 1996; Cranston, 2000; Dimmock and Walker, 2000). Variations among these models advocate practices of decentralized authority, team approaches among employees, participatory decision-making, and worker (i.e. teacher) empowerment. Actual interpretations and implementations of these models, however, have tended to camouflage or relapse into macro-level governance and micro-management operations. The corporate leadership paradigm is highly criticized by those concerned with social justice, democracy, equity, and moral dimensions of education (Goodlad et al., 1990; Greenfield, 1995; Sergiovanni, 1992; Steinberg and Kincheloe, 1997). Schools differ from business organizations in their ultimate purposes. Businesses exist to produce profit, thus they develop goals and use strategies to meet their purposes for work. Schools, however, carry a moral obligation, ‘because education – a deliberate effort to develop values and sensibilities as well as skills – is a moral endeavor’ (Goodlad, et al., 1990, p. xii). Filipino scholar Luciano Bagadiong, Jr. concurs, emphasizing, ‘in trying to understand what drives leadership, we have overemphasized bureaucratic, psychological and technical-rational authority, seriously neglecting professional and moral authority’ (2001, p. 86). Recent technologies have created the need for flexibility, task distribution, collaborative problem-solving, and rapport-building communication styles in the workplace – practices that are feminine-oriented (Claes, 1999). According to Spillane et al. (2000), focusing on the individual agency of positional leaders such as principals is inadequate because leadership is not merely a function of what they know and do. In their study of distributed leadership, the school is the unit of analysis as leadership is distributed across an interactive web of actors and artifacts, within the context of activity. We perceive this notion of distributed leadership as a significant shift from the traditional assumption of leadership as the practice of an individual. This theoretical outlook opens possibilities to consider leadership as a social and cultural nexus. Only recently have researchers directed attention to culture as a theoretical framework for the analysis of educational leadership (e.g. Bajunid, 1996; Hallinger and Leithwood, 1996; Heck, 1998; Wong, 1998). Drawing on the work of Tavana et al. (1997) in Western Samoa, Leithwood and

138 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

Duke (1998) considered relationships between socio-cultural values and orientations to leadership. According to Tavana et al. (1997), community values serve as the foundation of the curriculum and organization of schools in Western Samoa. There is a strong communal collaboration wherein schools are perceived as extensions of the home. Schools are not seen as having a special monopoly on learning, as families believe informal learning at home should be connected to learning in classrooms. Thus, the notion of schools as detached from local ways of knowing, and operated under a model of managerial leadership is not culturally compatible with Samoan indigenous practices and purposes for learning. These examples compelled us to consider leadership as a dimension of our work in the Philippines.

Study background and methods This chapter frames leadership within the context of a longitudinal study aimed at understanding community-based science education in Silan, a rural barangay in the province of Antique in the Philippines. First World influences of computer technologies, pop culture, and capitalist marketing are becoming more prevalent across the metropolitan and rural landscapes of the Philippines. Communities such as Silan are rapidly modernizing their practices of housing construction, nutrition, healthcare, transportation, communication, and other conveniences. At the same time, national attention has been given toward the need to preserve the indigeneity of Filipinos, thus researchers have endeavored to develop indigenized science education curriculum (e.g. Vicencio, 2001). With these concerns in mind, we wanted to learn about science education as it is situated in the life-world of Silan and to provide an alternative to the practices of teaching imported, decontextualized versions of science education (see Bilbao et al., 2002). Our interest in exploring community-based science education was instigated by several events. The metaphor of community was used by a teacher to describe the positive experience she perceived from writing and discussing cases during the first year of our collaboration with science teacher educators at West Pangalo State University. At the same time, we had been reading Sergiovanni’s (2000) text: The Life World of Leadership: Creating Culture, Community, and Personal Meaning in our Schools, wherein he describes community in terms of having a shared sense of kinship, place, mind, and memory. These characteristics of community appealed to us as referents for our research team relationship and for the practice of science education we hoped to develop. Participants in this study collaborated to form a research team comprised of science educators with a shared interest and desire to investigate the potential of community-based science education. Members of the

Science education leadership in a barangay 139

research team included six elementary teachers from Silan Elementary School, one high school teacher from the adjacent St. Theresa’s High School, three science teacher educators from West Pangalo State University in Iloilo City, Philippines, and two US visiting science teacher educators (Sharon and Deborah, the authors). Over a period of three years, team members had collaboratively explored ways to contextualize (and also enable ‘indigenizing’1) science teaching and learning in local barangays. Our research has drawn on narrative inquiry (Connelly and Clandinin, 2000) and the writing of narrative case accounts (Zeller, 1995) to report this study. Specifically, our collaborative processes of inquiry involved the co-construction, and dialogues about, several key data sources, which included: case writing and reflection (Arellano, 2001a, b); image-based data presented in the form of photo-essays (Nichols et al., 2001); and memory-banks (Nichols et al., 2002). A narrative perspective also enables researchers to re-present the dynamic and fluid wholeness of events as these were felt and ordered in the researchers’ consciousness (Hellman, 1981). We (the authors) crafted two narrative case accounts to highlight dimensions of our interpretation of leadership from the stance of community-based science education. The reader will observe a change of voice between the two accounts. This shift occurred because in the process of analysis we did not see the singular voice of a leader; thus, the first case features several speakers as portraiture of collective leadership, whereas the second case adopts a more omnipresent voice to holistically portray community-based science within a singular event. This representation of research dramatizes the complexities and ambiguities of leadership as we interpreted it within our larger study of envisioning community-based science education.

Case 1: An environmental ‘eyesore’ transformed by community agency It was 11 a.m., time for the research team meeting to begin. Lively conversations were subdued as attention turned to the presentation of cases the teachers had written. Luisa Arroyo and Felicima Pangan had written their case together and were excited to present ‘part 2’ of their story to the group. Their case followed up on a story that had been shared with the group nearly one year earlier about “the lublub.” The lublub had initially been described by Florencia Santiago, a second grade teacher, and her student teacher, Felipe, in a photo-essay they created about an illegitimate dumping area, which in dialect is called a lublub (local citizens more vividly referred to it as ‘the eyesore of Silan’). In the photograph, the lublub had looked like a trench filled with plastic containers, paper goods, metal scraps, banana leaves, and other discarded household items. It was

140 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

located on the property of a local citizen, however, the landowner had not prevented the dumping from taking place for it apparently had not presented him with any problems. When members of the research group discussed why the lublub had been created, Ms. Martha Ventura, the barangay captain, explained that local citizens dumped in the lublub because they had no room to compost waste beside their homes. Silan is wedged between the mountains and the Sulu Sea, thus precious areas of level terrain are reserved for farming. The nipa (i.e. bamboo) and cement-block houses of families often sit precariously on sloping seaside edges. As a result, households have little space for creating compost pits beside their own homes. Seeing no other alternatives for household waste disposal, community members resorted to dumping their trash into the lublub. The lublub presented a dilemma for Florencia Santiago since she was responsible for teaching environmental education to the same children who were dumping household trash at the lublub. Florencia had also told the group that she owned a ‘tiangge’ (a small store) near the lublub and had noticed items and receipts in the trash heap were from purchases made at her store. Florencia and Felipe concluded their photo-essay with questions about how to address the lublub dilemma. Today, Luisa and Felicima’s case would follow up with a story of resolution for Silan’s eyesore dump. Luisa began sharing their case by describing how the lublub recently caught her attention. A couple of weeks earlier, as she walked to her family’s farm, she approached the lublub area. Luisa prepared to cover her nose to avoid smelling the foul stench of rubbish which community members had been placing there over the past couple of years. Children typically avoided this area for they believed evil spirits – the mariette – lived in the heaps of waste. However, on occasion, children had been seen sneaking into the lublub to dump garbage for their families. Luisa was surprised because the lublub was gone! A fence now surrounded a cleared area where there had formerly been a trench filled with plastic bags and bottles, metal containers, bamboo leaves and poles, and other unwanted waste from homes. She wondered who had cleared away the dumpsite and thought it would be interesting to follow up the story as the basis for writing a case. Luisa and Felicima began work together on the case by interviewing the barangay captain, Ms. Ventura; the captain had been attending the research team meetings as school matters are community matters. After Ms. Ventura heard Florencia Santiago’s photo-essay presentation about the lublub, she felt it was an issue that should be taken up by the barangay council. The barangay council met one evening at the Catholic church. The meeting was attended, as usual, by many adults within the barangay, and included a representative of the Sangguniang Kabataa – a youth organization also referred to as the SK. The council dedicated 10 percent of

Science education leadership in a barangay 141

barangay proceeds (generated from barangay fiesta events and donations) to the clean-up of the lublub. Over the course of a month, community members assisted by SK members helped to clear away trash and overgrown grasses from the area. Barangay members began to use peer pressure to dissuade families from dumping in the lublub; if they saw someone going to dump at the lublub, they would remind them to properly dispose of biodegradable and non-biodegradable items in newly designated containers. Adults, however, began asking their children or hiring others to dump their trash to avoid being blamed for creating the eyesore by community peers who wanted to be rid of the lublub. Felicima emphasized that being the recipient of blame is highly undesirable in Filipino culture, thus careful diplomacy was needed to not only avoid blaming in response to dumping, but to also help families adopt a new practice of putting their trash into the community compost pit. Fewer households were throwing garbage into the lublub following the community clean-up and reminding campaign, nevertheless some dumping in the lublub still persisted. Ms. Ventura invented what she called ‘reverse indigenous beliefs’ to encourage families to place their trash in the new community compost area. She explained her strategy to the research team: We are using supernatural explanations to deal with this problem. People are afraid to go to the compost pit area because they believe they may be hurt by a spirit or ‘dwindee’ there. So, I ask them for proof. I ask them to show me proof there are dwindees there in the compost. It’s a reverse of the idea! In a sense, this approach would give an offender a way to save face, for their fear of dwindees would be an acceptable reason for their avoidance of the compost pit area. Ms. Ventura’s request for proof of spirits would offer the individual an opportunity to provide helpful information. Ms. Ventura would then take action to relocate the compost pit in a different area where spirits were not present. Ultimately, the captain is able to effectuate better environmental practices by taking diplomatic approaches among community members. The teachers also began to creatively design approaches to involve their students in addressing local environmental problems. Maria Enriquez, a high school biology teacher, had her students write environmental cases. Her students had to first identify a specific situation that they perceived to be an environmental problem. The students then wrote open-ended cases to describe why and how the environmental situation was a problem to everyday living in Silan. Maria Enriquez reviewed the cases and selected several for her class to read. The class selected one case, which they felt committed to resolve. The students then constructed interview surveys to gather data relevant to the environmental issue from community

142 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

members. Finally, the students developed a class action plan to deal with the situation. The teachers thought about ways they could educate and engage students and their parents in activities to improve the environmental conditions of Silan. They decided to host a science camp as a kickoff for the new environmental education center.

Case 2: The inaugural blessing of the Silan Science and Environmental Education Center: An intergenerational celebration A hush came over the crowd as Luisa and Maricel Delgado, both teachers at Silan Elementary School, began to distribute candles to young and old alike. On a windy Saturday morning in May barangay members had gathered under the shade of coconut and mahogany trees to join in the inaugural blessing of the Silan Science and Environmental Education Center. Carefully cupping the flames of their candles, community members followed Father Paul as he walked through the center sprinkling holy water in every nook and cranny. In the local Kinaray – a language – they repeatedly prayed the Hail Mary, seeking protection and blessing for the center, even the butterfly garden and the pond. The blessing of the center, an intergenerational event, had drawn barangay members from near and far. Some families had walked from the nearby mountains, traversing rice terraces and rivers to reach the town proper in time for the inaugural blessing. Others, like Miguel Salazar, with no children in the school, had come out of a sense of commitment to the barangay, and the hope that perhaps someday he would have grandchildren attending Silan Elementary School. Still others were attracted by the blare of the loudspeakers prior to the blessing, a modern signal to people in nearby barangays that they were invited to attend an important event. During the frequent electrical brownouts, when communication by loudspeaker was not possible, the traditional method of blowing the budyong shell was still sometimes used to communicate with neighboring barangays. On this bright and sunny day, however, the loudspeakers effectively sent out a message far and wide. Situated on a bluff overlooking the juncture of the river and the Sulu Sea, Silan Science and Environmental Education Center was a reflection of the dagiyaw spirit in action – a tradition where all community members respond to the call for help by bringing or doing whatever was within their means. More than two years ago, a group of teacher-researchers from Silan Elementary School initiated a dialogue about the need for an educational center that could play an active role in addressing pressing environmental issues of the barangay. Since that time, in the dagiyaw tradition, barangay members had joined together in making this dream a reality. During the

Science education leadership in a barangay 143

long, wet months of the rainy season, those members with knowledge of construction had volunteered countless hours of their time to build and erect concrete trusses, while others weaved the nipa that would serve as a roof for the center. With the advent of Typhoon Nanang, the barangay became isolated in terms of transportation and communication from the nearest cities. Nevertheless, barangay members quickly devised a relay system that enabled them to circumvent locations where bridges had been washed away – they were able to obtain needed materials as the work of the center continued. The dagiyaw spirit was evident throughout all activities leading to the development of the center. Mrs. B., the principal of Silan Elementary School, set the example when she immediately volunteered to move her office so that it could be used as the science materials and resource room for the center. Young children joined their lolas and lolos after school and on Saturdays to clear away trash, create rock gardens, and weed areas for the butterfly garden and pond. In order to prevent erosion of the steep slope behind the school and environmental center, the Parent, Teacher, Community Association (PTCA) sponsored tree-planting; some community members donated the trees and early one morning barangay members arrived with digging tools in hand to plant the ipil-ipil, coconut and mahogany trees needed to prevent further soil erosion. As the blessing day approached, plans for the event were made in tandem with the organization of an environmental science camp for children, a community clean-up morning, and the annual Flores de Mayo festival. Finishing touches were added to the center, as barangay members painted colorful murals on all walls and columns of the center. At the heart of these designs was a large mural depicting the community of Silan with St. Theresa’s Catholic Church and the adjacent elementary school and environmental center serving as the focal point. The Silan Science and Environmental Education Center’s mission and vision, which had been crafted collaboratively by members of the barangay in preceding months, were printed across the top of the mural: VISION Silan Science and Environmental Education Center is a microsystem within the school system having its impact on both the school and the community providing science for all: across ages, across disciplines, and across cultures; and producing environmentally literate citizens and scientific problem solvers. MISSION Silan Science and Environmental Education Center is committed to the holistic development of environmentally literate pupils, teachers and community people by enhancing and revitalizing their indigenous practices and resources for a sustainable future.

144 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

The inaugural blessing of the Silan Science and Environmental Education Center was truly a community day of celebration – recognizing science education as their communal practice. Following the blessing, barangay members of all ages joined in the dramatic reenactment of a historical community legend of Silan’s beginnings: the Silanon. The spirit of unity, peace, and cooperation was felt by all as young and old, rich and poor, rural and urban alumni, Filipino and non-Filipinos, joined in the environmentally-friendly release of bubbles to signify the importance of the occasion.

Discussion: Reframing leadership within a framework of community-based science education These two cases portray the substance of leadership we perceived as integral to enacting community-based science education in this setting. The science education that emerged was contextualized as it focused on environmental concerns of the community – such as pollution, erosion, soil studies, health, medicinal practices, and animal and plant communities. The practice of community meant intertwining science with respect for indigenous beliefs and the community narrative of unity, peace, and cooperation. As we reflect on how changes unfolded in the course of this study, we became interested to consider how leadership played into this new vision of science education in Silan. In this discussion, we do not offer a laundry list of leadership characteristics; rather, we want to describe factors that contributed to the forms of leadership that enabled a practice of community-based science in Silan. An important approach in our research was the use of tools that promoted introspection and dialogue about life in Silan. Teachers created photo-essays, cases, memory banks, often consulting community members in the processes of gathering information. These data sources were later used as focal points in research team meeting discussions. In turn, agency for envisioning community-based science was made possible through the collective ideas and actions inspired through critical introspection, dialogue, and an inspired sense of spirit desiring a better quality of life. Having a spirit for change fits with Maxine Greene’s (1995) assertion that substantive changes in education will come from ideas that lead us to achieve aspirations generated from our imagination – ideas such as these are unlikely to be inspired through texts of reform demanding standardized practices. Teachers collaborating on the research team generated new aspirations for science teaching through sharing stories (i.e. cases) about their classrooms, re-enacting indigenous practices and singing, reflecting on photographs of life in Silan, and planning for communal events that enabled the community to participate in creating a new vision for science education that would serve their interests.

Science education leadership in a barangay 145

The practices of environmental education and leadership in this study were shaped within a coherent community narrative. In another study (Nichols et al., 2001), we documented how citizens of Silan – fisherpersons, barangay council members, teachers, and young students – consistently cited peace, unity, and cooperation as ideals community members were taught to value and uphold. We referred to these ideals as a ‘community narrative’ as these ideals holistically encompassed life among Silanons. Accordingly, environmental education within this study reflected the community narrative. For example, care was taken to develop peaceful ways of changing citizens’ practices. Unity behind the lublub transformation was gained by recognizing diverse reasons citizens were dumping at the site. Cooperation was enabled by inviting citizens to act upon their beliefs – as in the case of taking action to confirm or disconfirm evil spirits, or to act in the spirit of caring for the community as in the case of the SK youth clean-up of the lublub. In essence, science education leadership in this study fits well with Foster’s description of leadership as an educative narrative and a communal role: Leadership is a shared, communitarian role, one in which different narratives are presented by different individuals, each presenting a possibility for a new narrative and interpreting the previous narratives in their own fashion. This analysis and envisionment obviously result in education; this educative aspect of leadership is intended to have citizens and participants begin to question aspects of their previous narratives, to grow and develop because of this questioning, and to begin to consider alternative ways of ordering their lives. (1989, p. 54) We have discussed referents that have philosophically shaped communitybased leadership among Silanons, but we need to couple this with an analysis of agency as this configured into the participatory roles of community members. Leadership in this study incorporated indigenous practices that have historically enabled community participation. The indigenous practices of Silan provided a number of ideal means for enabling community participation. Several examples of indigenous practices described in the two cases included: communal architecture; communication practices; the spirit of dagiyaw; and, respect of traditional beliefs. Knowledge has traditionally been shared among Silanons through informal oral exchanges – a practice still seen today as community folk gather at noon to talk under the shade of the pahuway-huway (bamboo structures erected along roadsides that have benches and a thatched roof and typically accommodate 4–6 men and women). There is openness about the pahuway-huway such that anyone is welcome to share in the

146 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

news of the day. When the environmental center was designed, emphasis was placed on constructing an open structure to accommodate large groups to be held there. Thus, the center had a communal architecture featuring a non-walled pavilion with a high nipa roof. The playing of loud music at the inaugural blessing extended a call for all community members to join in the activity. Communication practices in Silan historically were intended to draw in members representing diverse sectors of the community. For example, the budyong would be blown when help was needed to bring in schools of fish by a large hand-pulled net – a sarap. Rich and poor, men and women, young and old would join together to participate in this activity. In the same manner, the ringing of the Catholic church bell for barangay council meetings, and the broadcasting of loud music are examples of indigenous practices that have nondiscriminately enabled the participation of all community members. The indigenous spirit of ‘dagiyaw’ also enabled leadership. The barangay captain and teachers explained dagiyaw as follows: Captain: Felicima (teacher):

Captain: Felicima:

Deborah: Maricel (teacher):

Dagiyaw means each one brings what they can to help. Even if they don’t have children attending the school, they will come to help. You know, Silan is different; we are all very cooperative here. Every sector is involved. One person will send out word to another about needs or events. If they are not available to help, they will send others in their place. It’s not only school-related. It’s a value of the people which initiates the cooperative nature of the community. Even the Atis [an indigenous Filipino tribal community] will come without being asked. How are those values transmitted? When we are small, we already see that situation. The parents are teaching their children to cooperate. Even the younger generation are here helping us – their parents before them were also here. (Community interview, 20 May 2002)

The sense of agency for enacting change seemed immediate and fluid. As soon as a call for help was extended, community members practiced dagiyaw – each assuming responsibility to find ways to address needs. This was evidenced in the building of the environmental education center – one man volunteered his professional building skills, some helped weave bamboo strips for the roof, children helped to paint ledges, while others took turns providing meals for the workers. In a metaphysical manner

Science education leadership in a barangay 147

their actions signified the community’s embodiment of education in Silan. The school is seamlessly interwoven into the community – and local citizens work to sustain education to benefit the community. One last aspect of leadership practiced in this study involved sustaining a culture of respect for indigenous beliefs and customs. This is significant as science education in the Philippines has historically been imported from the USA and Great Britain (see Bilboa, et al., 2002). Beliefs in dwindees, rituals of the Catholic faith (the blessing), and avoidance of blaming citizens are examples of where opportunities were taken to incorporate science education into the larger cultural narratives that constitute the identity of Silanons. This is significant as the loss of identity can greatly undermine student learning (Brickhouse and Potter, 2001; Suárez-Orozco and Suárez-Orozco, 2001).

Further thoughts Overall, our collaborative venture to create an alternative approach to science teaching and learning in Silan was enabled through the substance of community and leadership practiced by teachers and community members. In short, we found the substance of leadership built upon community funds of knowledge and practice. They had a clear sense of vision and mission for education already in place which gave meaning to their purposes for educating children – with the ultimate goal of benefiting life in their community. This research project provided an opportunity for teachers to rethink their science education from being an imported and decontextualized curriculum, to a practice generated from recognizing everyday problems in their community and ways to use science learning to address those needs. As we return to the USA, we are challenged to envision communitybased practices in our cities which have widely diverse cultural, socioeconomic, and religious contexts. We will need to think beyond the common assumption that community is having unity. Sergiovanni describes such a view of community: Communities are defined by their center – repositories of values, sentiments, and beliefs that provide the needed cement for bonding people together in a common cause. . . . Centers govern what is valuable to a community. They provide norms that guide behavior and give meaning to community life. Community centers operate much as official religions do, providing norms that structure what we do, how we do it, and why we do it. (1992, pp. 47–48) While unity has a central place in the narrative of Silan’s sense of community, it is unlikely to be a viable referent in places characterized by

148 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins

tremendous diversity and change. As well, the notion of having a dominant center is a modernist tenet – that there is one best way, a truth that should inform being a community. Others (e.g. Fine et al., 1997; Furman, 1998) suggest that instead of thinking of community as having a center grounded within the shared beliefs and practices of a group, we should consider an antithetical view wherein the center of community emerges through the negotiation of disparate norms, beliefs and values of individuals comprising the group. Communities of difference are not based on unchallenged assumptions sustained as traditions, but rather they continue through processes of negotiation. Given the rapid changes and unbounded sense of place encouraged by current globalization trends, today’s youth need to learn ways to practice community in the midst of diversity. We have seen promising examples of science education which meets this challenge (e.g. Barton, 2001; Fusco, 2001; Hammond, 2001), yet there is a great deal of work yet to be done in this direction. Fusco’s notion of engaging students in a practicing culture of science education provides a dynamic expression of what we envision for community-based science – a view which contrasts the static, unitary version of standardized science education currently used to frame our vision in the USA. While the Philippines posed contexts perhaps unique to developing countries, our experiences there were rich in terms of raising our consciousness about community and seeing possibilities for meaningful change.

Acknowledgments We want to extend special thanks to the teachers and the Elementary School Principal who collaborated with us in this study. We also appreciated the support of the barangay captain and the members of the community who supported our collaborative endeavors. Our work was made possible through grant funds (SG#200200080) provided by the Spencer Foundation and the New England BioLaboratories Foundation. Opinions expressed are those of the authors and not those of our grant sponsors.

Note 1

Our research team felt that Vicencio’s (2001) model for developing ‘indigenized’ curriculum suggested a static representation of life in Filipino communities. We interchangeably used the language of ‘indigenizing’ and ‘contextualizing’ to reflect our view that barangays are experiencing ongoing change – especially as globalization impacts developing countries such as the Philippines. At this point in time, many Silanons are working abroad, thus the sense of community in Silan is poised for change.

Science education leadership in a barangay 149

References Arellano, E. L., Barcenal, T. L., Bilbao, P. P., Castellano, M. A., Nichols, S. E. and Tippins, D. J. (2001a) Case-based pedagogy as a context for collaborative inquiry in the Philippines. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(4), 1–27. Arellano, E. L., Barcenal, T. L., Bilbao, P. P., Castellano, M. A., Nichols, S. E. and Tippins, D. J. (2001b) Using case-based pedagogy in the Philippines: A narrative inquiry. Research in Science Education, 31(1), 211–226. Bagadiong, L. T. Jr. (2001) Leadership in the 21st century: New mindset and guide for action. San Sebastian College Research Journal, 4(2), 86–99. Barton, A. (1998) Teaching science with homeless children: Pedagogy, representation, and identity. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 35(4), 379–394. Bajunid, I. A. (1996) Preliminary explorations of indigenous perspectives of educational management: The evolving Malaysian experience. Journal of Educational Administration, 34(5), 50–73. Bilbao, P., Morano, L. N., Barcenal, T., Castellano, M. A., Nichols, S. and Tippins, D. J. (2002) In P. Fraser-Abder (ed.), Professional Development of Science Teachers: Local Insights with Lessons for the Global Community. New York: RoutledgeFalmer, pp. 70–87. Bourdieu, P. and Passeron, J. (1990) Reproduction in Education, Society and Culture. 2nd edn. London: Sage. Brickhouse, N. (2001) Embodying science: A feminist perspective on learning. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(3), 282–295. Brickhouse, N. and Potter, J. T. (2001) Young women’s scientific identity formation in an urban context. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(8), 965–980. Cheng, K. M. and Wong, K. C. (1996) School effectiveness in East Asia: Concepts, origins, and implications. Journal of Educational Effectiveness, 34(5), 32–49. Claes, M. (1999) Women, men and management styles. International Labour Review, 138(4), 431–446. Connelly, E. M. and Clandinin, D. J. (2000) Narrative Inquiry: Experience and Story in Qualitative Research. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers. Cranston, J. C. (2000) Teachers as leaders: A critical agenda for the new millennium. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education, 28(2), 123–132. Dimmock, C. and Walker, A. (2000) Globalisation and societal culture: Redefining schooling and school leadership in the twenty-first century. Compare, 30(3), 303–312. Fine, M., Weis, L. and Powell, L. C. (1997) Communities of difference: A critical look at desegregated spaces created for and by youth. Harvard Educational Review, 67(2), 247–284. Foster, W. (1989) Toward a critical practice of leadership. In J. Smyth (ed.), Critical Perspectives on Educational Leadership. New York: Falmer Press, pp. 39–62. Furman, G. C. (1998) Postmodernism and community in schools: Unraveling the paradox. Educational Administration Quarterly, 34(3), 298–328. Fusco, D. (2001) Creating relevant science through urban planning and gardening. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(8), 860–877. Gilbert, A. and Yerrick, R. (2001) Same school, separate worlds: A sociocultural study of identity, resistance, and negotiation in a rural, lower track science classroom. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(5), 574–598.

150 Sharon E. Nichols and Deborah J. Tippins Goodlad, J., Soder, R. and Sirotnik, K. (1990) The Moral Dimensions of Teaching. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Greene, M. (1995) Releasing the Imagination. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Greenfield, T. B. (1995) Leaders and schools: Willfulness and nonnatural order in organization. In T. J. Sergiovanni and J. E. Corbally (eds), Leadership and Organizational Culture: New Perspectives on Administrative Theory and Practice. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, pp. 142–169. Hallinger, P. and Leithwood, K. (1996) Culture and educational administration: A case of finding out you don’t know you don’t know. Journal of Educational Administration, 34(5), 98–116. Hammond, L. (2001) Notes from California: An anthropological approach to urban science education for language minority families. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(9), 983–999. Heck, R. H. (1998) Conceptual and methodological issues in investigating principal leadership across cultures. Peabody Journal of Education, 73(2), 51–80. Hellman, J. (1981) Fables of Fact: The New Journalism as a New Fiction. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press. Leithwood, K. and Duke, D. L. (1998) Mapping the conceptual terrain of leadership: A critical point of departure for cross-cultural studies. Peabody Journal of Education, 73(2), 31–50. Moll, L. C. and Greenberg, J. (1990) Creating zones of possibilities: Combining social contexts for instruction. In L. C. Moll (ed.), Vygotsky and Education. New York: Cambridge University Press, pp. 319–348. Nichols, S. E., Tippins, D. J., Bilbao, P., Barcenal, T. and Morano, L. (2001) A narrative study of community, change, and science education through case-based pedagogy and research, paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, Seattle, WA, April. Nichols, S. E., Tippins, D. J., Morano, L., Barcenal, T. and Bilbao, P. (2002) Drawing on the voices of community to create a sustainable science education future, paper presented at the annual meeting of the National Association for Research in Science Teaching, New Orleans, LA, April. Rosser, S. (1990) Female-friendly Science: Applying Women’s Studies Methods and Theories to Attract Students. New York: Pergamon Press. Seigfried, C. H. (1993) Shared communities of interest: Feminism and pragmatism. Hypatia, 8(2), 1–14. Seiler, G. (2001) Reversing the standard direction: Science emerging from the lives of African American students. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 38(9), 1000–1014. Sergiovanni, T. J. (1992) Moral Leadership. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Sergiovanni, T. J. (2000) The Life World of Leadership: Creating Culture, Community, and Personal Meaning in our Schools. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Simms, M. (2000) Impressions of leadership through a native woman’s eyes. Urban Education, 35(5), 637–644. Spillane, J. P., Halverson, R. and Diamond, J. B. (2001) Investigating school leadership practice: A distributed perspective. Educational Researcher, 30(3), 23–28. Steinberg, S. R. and Kincheloe, J. L. (1997) Introduction: No more secrets – kinderculture, information saturation, and the postmodern childhood. In S. R.

Science education leadership in a barangay 151 Steinberg and J. L. Kincheloe (eds), Kinderculture: The Corporate Construction of Childhood. Boulder, CO: Westview Press, pp. 3–30. Strike, K. A. (1993) Professionalism, democracy, and discursive communities: Normative reflections on restructuring. American Educational Research Journal, 30(2), 255–275. Suárez-Orozco, C. and Suárez-Orozco M. M. (2001) Children of Immigration. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Tavana, G. V., Hite, S. and Randall, E. V. (1997) Cultural values and education in Western Samoa: Tensions between colonial roots and influences and contemporary indigenous needs. International Journal of Educational Reform, 6, 11–19. Vicencio, E. M. (2001) Curriculum for indigenous communities, paper presented at the International Conference on Teacher Education, Pasig City, Philippines, January. Waldrip, B. G. and Taylor, P. C. (1999) Permeability of students’ worldview to their school views in a non-western developing country. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 36(3), 289–303. Wong, K. C. (1998) Culture and moral leadership in education. Peabody Journal of Education, 73(2), 106–125. Zeller, N. (1995) Narrative strategies for case report. Qualitative Studies in Education, 8(1), 75–88.

Part III

Systemic initiatives for teacher learning

Chapter 9

Professional development and science curriculum implementation A perspective for leadership Rodger W. Bybee, James B. Short, Nancy M. Landes and Janet C. Powell

Introduction Leadership stands as an elusive ideal for many educators. However, the ideal need not remain elusive. To be clear, leadership is neither mysterious nor elusive; rather, most of what enables leaders to lead can be learned. One can describe aims and objectives for a group and provide opportunities for them to achieve those goals. Science teachers do this everyday, professional developers do this at workshops, and other educational leaders do this within their domains. What we described above represents a perspective for leadership that emerges from professional development designed to complement science curriculum implementation. This chapter presents recent work in professional development and curriculum implementation. Throughout the discussions one can identify the theme of leadership development. In science education, we have only begun to recognize leadership development as an important and valued goal of our work. Moving beyond this initial awareness and directing efforts toward leadership development requires some understanding of the educational system, some clarity of one’s work, some ways of thinking about educational change, and some understanding of the leaders’ roles and goals in the system. For example, one can think of a classroom with a teacher as leader and students as learners, or a workshop on the selection of instructional materials with a professional developer as the leader and teachers as learners. Figure 9.1 helps to illustrate the themes for the chapter. The three circles represent three perspectives of learning and leading. The focus of change is the innermost circle – the classroom – which links the science content, teacher, and students. Unless change happens at the classroom level, we will not reach the reform goals of improving the learning and teaching of science.

156 R. W. Bybee et al.

Le

ad e

fe Pro

r

D sh i p

ssio

pm evelo

ent

leader of leaders

velopment n al D e leader

C la s

sroom

teacher science

student

teacher as learner

leader as learner

Figure 9.1 Three levels of learning and leading. Source: Adapted by Judy Mumme, WestEd from the work of Deborah Ball, University of Michigan.

How do we impact change at the classroom level? We do so by providing professional development, primarily in the context of curriculum implementation. These experiences are provided by the professional development leaders identified in the middle circle. Finally, one must consider the outermost circle, the development of professional developers. We provide this figure to orient the reader to our perspective on learning and leading at different levels which we discuss in the chapter. To be clear, the aim for all professional development is to improve science teaching and to enhance student learning. Based on the work of LoucksHorsley et al. (1998), Judy Mumme (WestEd), and Deborah Ball (University of Michigan), along with ideas from Thompson and Zeuli (1999), this chapter will describe both the theoretical and practical application of professional learning for leadership development through science curriculum implementation. The basis of the chapter will be our work at Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS). Curriculum implementation can be an effective professional development strategy to provide teachers with ways to learn about, experiment with, reflect on, and share information about learning and teaching in the context of implementing new instructional materials. Professional development that supports curriculum implementation must transform teachers’ current beliefs about learning and teaching science, especially if those beliefs conflict with the tenets of approaches to standards-based reform in the United States. The following discussion provides background for the chapter’s discussion.

A perspective for leadership 157

Background to BSCS For more than forty years, BSCS in Colorado Springs, USA, has been known in science education for developing innovative, inquiry-based curricula. As one of several research-based curriculum groups created in 1958 by the National Science Foundation (NSF), BSCS became a leader in developing curricula that provides opportunities for students to learn science by doing science through inquiry. Recently, BSCS expanded its mission to provide greater resources and services for professional development in science education. BSCS believes that the sustained implementation of innovative curricula, with ongoing professional development opportunities, can transform the learning and teaching of science in classrooms. With funding from the National Science Foundation, BSCS established the SCI (Science Curriculum Implementation) Center as a major initiative in the field of professional development. The SCI Center at BSCS is a part of a reform initiative in the United States that focuses on building leadership capacity for implementing highquality, standards-based instructional materials in science education. The SCI Center endeavors to improve high school science education through curriculum reform. The mission of the SCI Center at BSCS is to assist district- and schoolbased leadership teams as they build the leadership capacity to implement an effective high school science education program using instructional materials that support the National Science Education Standards (NRC, 1996). Goals of the SCI Center work include transforming teacher thinking and practice as well as changing the culture of schools by helping high school science departments become professional learning communities.

Building leadership through selection of instructional materials Early in our professional development work, we recognized the selection of materials as a critical ‘point of entry’ into the educational system. In today’s science education environment, teachers find themselves confronted with many options when it comes to selecting instructional materials. In the end, student learning requires instructional materials of the highest quality. High quality instructional materials involve more than a textbook for students. There may be interactive CDs, supplemental videotapes, Internet research sites, and formal assessment programs as well as instructional support for the teacher. The list of available materials and components for science teachers to choose from is, in itself, daunting. So, what process will help science teachers analyze and select the most appropriate, highest quality instructional materials? Further, how can one design the selection process so it is in itself a professional development experience?

158 R. W. Bybee et al.

Part of the SCI Center’s work is building leadership for the implementation of high-quality, standards-based science instructional materials. The SCI Center at BSCS is working in partnership with the K-12 Alliance in California (a division of WestEd), to develop the process for Analyzing Instructional Materials (AIM). Designed as a professional development experience to support curriculum implementation, the AIM Process is an evidence-based method of analyzing instructional materials, and is appropriate for any K-12 science instructional materials. How does the AIM Process work? Using an inquiry-based approach, the AIM Process focuses on asking questions, gathering information, and making decisions about instructional materials based on evidence. Rather than allowing teachers to take a cursory glance at the science content covered in a textbook, the AIM Process encourages teachers to think about the importance of instructional materials to the learning process for students and to the instructional process for teachers. After pre-screening the instructional materials under review and determining which ones hold the most promise and warrant a more thorough examination, the AIM Process involves an evidenced-based screening process that leads to a classroom pilot (see Figure 9.2). The process begins with selecting criteria for analyzing instructional materials and developing a graphic organizer of the science content in one chapter or unit from the materials. In order to teach the process, we use a fictional ‘District USA,’ which has chosen four criteria to select instructional materials during the paper screen portion of the process and two additional criteria to guide the pilot (see Figure 9.3). The key steps in analyzing each criterion involve teams reading the instructional materials and gathering evidence, analyzing the evidence by using a rubric, and scoring each component on a rubric. During the AIM Process, teachers and administrators, working as a team, first complete a graphic organizer of the conceptual flow of the content from a unit of instruction (see Figure 9.4). The graphic organizer visually displays the conceptual flow of the content along with other evidence in a manner that clearly shows the concepts that are presented and how all of the criteria connect to promote student learning. As the evidence is gathered, rubrics are used to analyze the evidence and score the instructional materials on their science content, the work students do, the work teachers do, and how student learning is assessed.

AIM Process Identify criteria

Pre-screen

Figure 9.2 The AIM Process.

Paper screen

Pilot

Summarize results

A perspective for leadership 159

Paper screen

Science content

Work students do

Assessment

Work teachers do

Gather evidence

Apply rubric

Score components

Summarize results

Select materials

Pilot

Student understanding

Teacher implementation

Figure 9.3 District USA’s criteria for the AIM Process paper screen and pilot.

The goal of the paper screen portion of the AIM Process is to determine which materials are to be piloted in the classroom to gather additional evidence for making a selection. The pilot portion of the AIM Process continues the same process of gathering evidence and applying two additional rubrics focused on student understanding and teacher implementation. In addition to contributing to the selection decision, piloting also informs professional development for scaling up the implementation. The immediate benefits of the AIM Process include helping teachers and administrators understand instructional materials in depth and accurately access whether specific materials will meet their needs in terms of content and pedagogy. But the benefits go beyond the immediate needs of science teachers and administrators. As a subset of activities associated with curriculum implementation, the AIM Process provides professional developers with opportunities for science teachers to learn about concept development, learning theories, instructional strategies, and other elements of learning and teaching science (Loucks-Horsley et al., 1998). At an even deeper level, effective professional developers can help science teachers explore their beliefs about learning and the role of curriculum and instruction in that process. The case study in this section points out the opportunities that professional developers have to facilitate transformative learning through the process of selecting instructional materials for curriculum implementation. The following two case studies of Pittsburgh and Ridgewood present the AIM Process in the context of professional development.

 None

 Weak

 Strong

pH regulating homeostasis

There are stresses on the body and it reacts in different ways.

CHAPTER 6

The body’s response to stress

Temperature regulation in body

Homeostasis is maintained by a variety of body systems.

CHAPTER 5

Homeostasis maintains dynamic equilibrium in living systems.

Behavior of animals in maintaining homeostasis

Trace path of RBC and show exchanges that take place in lungs, kidney, liver, intestines

Examining homeostasis via real world example (alcohol dehydration)

Design an experiment to show how substances enter/leave cell

How materials enter and leave cell

Homeostasis is maintained with permeable membranes and is based on responses of body systems to internal and external conditions.

CHAPTER 4

Response of onion cell to external influences

Figure 9.4 An example of a graphic organizer from the AIM Process showing how members of the Pittsburgh Leadership Team illustrated the connections between major concepts in a unit from BSCS Biology: A human approach.

Health care proposal to evaluate ethics of health care

At risk behaviors disrupt homeostasis

The immune system helps to maintain homeostasis

When someone is ill, the body does not maintain homeostasis

UNIT 2

A perspective for leadership 161

Analyzing instructional materials: Pittsburgh leadership team A leadership team from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania is participating in the BSCS SCI Center’s National Academy for Curriculum Leadership (NACL). The leadership team from the Pittsburgh Public Schools (PPS) learned the AIM Process at the NACL 2001 summer meeting and is using the process to select instructional materials for ninth and tenth grade biology. The PPS leadership team decided to use the AIM Process on five different biology materials. However, since the process is comprehensive and requires extensive professional development time, the PPS leadership team is devising ways to allow some of the work to be done independently. In that way when the team meets, its time can be used for collaboration, developing shared understanding, and building consensus about the materials under review. The approach for using the AIM Process that the PPS leadership team is developing involves examining the science content by completing graphic organizers from a unit in each set of materials that addresses the same biology concepts. With the materials that meet the team’s criteria for science content, the team will continue the process by examining the work students do. This filtering process should continue to narrow the materials under review as the team looks at the work teachers do and how student learning is assessed using the materials. The final filtering stage will be to apply all of the criteria in the AIM Process to one additional unit from the remaining materials. Using the process as a filter in this way will allow the leadership team to work within its time constraints while maintaining the integrity of the AIM Process (see Figure 9.4). Their goal is that the paper screen portion of the AIM Process will narrow their selection to one or two materials. They plan to conduct a yearlong pilot in order to collect additional evidence on the effectiveness of the materials in the classroom in order to better inform their professional development needs for scaling up to district-wide implementation.

To conclude this section, highly structured, standards-based instructional materials, when combined with effective, sustained professional development, have the potential for changing teaching practices in a manner that can lead to improved student achievement and attitudes about science. For this potential to emerge, professional development interventions need to incorporate multiple elements of instruction – the teachers, students, content, and environments – and the interactions among these elements (Cohen and Ball, 2001). The challenge for leadership development lies in creating learning experiences that prepare professional developers to understand and be able to effectively conduct professional development that helps transform learning and teaching science in the classroom.

162 R. W. Bybee et al.

Designing effective professional development for leading curriculum reform The National Institute for Science Education (Loucks-Horsley et al., 1996) synthesized a variety of professional development standards to produce a list of principles for effective professional development experiences for science educators that include: • •

• • •

• •

clear, well-defined images of effective classroom learning and teaching; opportunities to develop knowledge and skills and broaden their teaching approaches, so they can create better learning opportunities for students; instructional methods that promote learning for adults, which mirror the methods to be used with students; building or strengthening the learning community of science teachers; preparing and supporting teachers to serve in leadership roles beyond their classrooms and to play roles in the development of the school district; providing links to the other parts of the educational system; and continuous assessment.

Although professional development experiences designed to support the implementation of new instructional materials need to incorporate all of these principles, we have chosen to focus on the third point in the aforementioned list. The point of our emphasis is that instructional materials designed to increase student learning convey a view of teaching largely as a process of provoking students to think about and conduct scientific inquiries, supporting students as they work, and guiding them along productive paths to reach the intended learning outcomes. How are teachers – who are unaccustomed to this approach to learning and teaching – supposed to learn the strategies and pedagogical content knowledge necessary to effectively implement curriculum materials that have these goals? We suggest professional development that provides powerful learning experiences for teachers should be designed so it incorporates the same elements that provide powerful learning for students. Standards-based instructional materials challenge teachers to think differently about learning and teaching science. Instead of a textbook that provides only ‘what to teach,’ these instructional materials also provide support for ‘how to teach.’ Because incorporating this type of support into instructional materials makes them different, most teachers need a rich form of ongoing professional development to help them learn how to use such materials effectively. Our contention is that professional development that supports the implementation of standards-based instructional

A perspective for leadership 163

materials must challenge teachers’ current beliefs about learning and teaching science. In other words, the professional development needed to learn how to use reform-based materials must transform, change the nature of, teachers’ beliefs and practices. Five features that characterize transformative professional development (Thompson and Zeuli, 1999) include the following: 1

2

3

4

5

create a sufficiently high level of cognitive dissonance to disturb, in some fundamental way, the equilibrium between teachers’ existing beliefs and practices on the one hand and their experience with subject matter, students’ learning, and teaching on the other; provide time, contexts, and support for teachers to think – to work at resolving the dissonance through discussion, reading, writing, and other activities that essentially amount to the crystallization, externalization, criticism, and revision of their thinking; ensure that the dissonance-creating and dissonance-resolving activities are connected to the teachers’ own students and context, or something similar; provide a way for teachers to develop a repertoire for practice that is consistent with the new understandings that teachers are building; and, provide continuing help in the cycle of (1) surfacing the new issues and problems that will inevitably arise from actual classroom performance; (2) deriving new understandings from them; (3) translating these new understandings into performance; and (4) recycling.

These characteristics of transformative professional development are related to the contemporary teaching and learning on which the BSCS 5E Instructional Model (BSCS, 1989) is based. They are consistent with the key findings about learning and teaching from How People Learn: Brain, Mind, Experience, and School (Bransford et al., 1999). In other words, powerful learning for adults parallels powerful learning for students. To reiterate a theme of this chapter, curriculum implementation can be an effective professional development strategy (Loucks-Horsley et al., 1998). This strategy provides teachers with ways to learn about, experiment with, reflect on, and share information about learning and teaching in the context of implementing new curriculum materials with colleagues. Consequently, teachers strengthen their content and pedagogical knowledge and skills as they implement the new instructional materials. This strategy is most effective, of course, when the materials are standardsbased and exemplify the contemporary research on learning and teaching. When teachers review materials during a curriculum review process, standards-based instructional materials often stand apart from more traditional textbooks because they are not organized or formatted in the

164 R. W. Bybee et al.

usual way. Often, standards-based materials are not positively received because they are misunderstood. Consequently, the process of selection and adoption of instructional materials should be considered a professional development opportunity. As such, it deserves a process that exemplifies effective practices of transformative professional development, such as the Analyzing Instructional Materials (AIM) Process.

A model for curriculum leadership Educational reform and curriculum implementation present more problems and opportunities for leadership development than represented in the prior discussion of the AIM Process. The National Academy for Curriculum Leadership (NACL) is the cornerstone of the SCI Center’s work. The NACL is a three-year professional development experience for leadership teams to learn how to select instructional materials, design professional development for the implementation of those materials, and develop strategies to determine the impact of the materials on student learning and teaching practice. In our work with leadership teams in the NACL, we have found it helpful to provide a model that extends beyond selection of materials and addresses the broader curriculum implementation process. The model accommodates a broader range of issues associated with leadership and curriculum implementation and a longer time span than that allocated for the selection of instructional materials. It also provides ample time and opportunities to apply the principles of effective professional development. We introduce our model through a fictional case of the Ridgewood School District engaging in the reform of its high school science program. Then we introduce and clarify our model of curriculum implementation. Finally, we use the model to analyze the Ridgewood case study. As the story of Ridgewood School District demonstrates, the process of curriculum implementation is complex and involves several stages. The SCI Center at BSCS has developed a model that describes four stages in the process: awareness, selection, adoption, and impact. Table 9.1 presents the SCI Center’s curriculum implementation framework. The following discussion elaborates the stages and critical elements identified in Table 9.1. Table 9.1 The SCI Center’s curriculum implementation framework Critical elements Instructional Materials Professional Development Data-Driven Decisions Advocacy Policy

Awareness

Selection

Adoption

Impact

A perspective for leadership 165

Curriculum implementation in Ridgewood School District Ridgewood is a medium-sized city somewhere in the USA. The district has three high schools. East HS is the fastest growing with high teacher turnover and 1,200 students in a building designed for only 1,000. Most of the students are upper-middle class and white, and the average teacher has been teaching for fewer than five years. West HS has 1,000 students, a more diverse student population and a mix of new and veteran teachers. Central HS is an innovative magnet school for science, math and technology with 600 students and mostly veteran teachers. The district high school science program includes physical science in ninth grade and biology in tenth, with most students then taking chemistry or an elective. A few students enroll in physics or an Advanced Placement (AP) science course. The majority of students graduate with three years of science and go on to the local university. A recent report from guidance counselors states that American College Testing (ACT) scores have declined over the past five years.

Year one: in the beginning It’s early November and Jack Long, the District Science Supervisor for Ridgewood School District, is worried. He just found out that the state is planning to implement discipline-based science assessments in four years. The good news is Ridgewood will have adoption money available next year. Jack thinks to himself, “This is definitely an opportunity to try something different. What we are doing now certainly doesn’t seem to be working.” This is especially true in tenth grade biology. Jack recently had a conversation with a friend who teaches at the local university, and Jack was embarrassed to hear that Ridgewood graduates were doing poorly in freshman biology. Jack begins to form a plan in his head. Knowing these tests are coming, he figures it is better to get a jump-start on things instead of waiting for the inevitable. A week later, Jack meets with the science department chairs from the three high schools in Ridgewood School District. He shares his plan to focus on tenth grade biology, explaining that it makes sense because this is where they can impact the largest number of students. Jack provides information about the National Academy for Curriculum Leadership (NACL), a program he found out about while attending an NSTA regional convention back in October. For the most part, the department-chair group is interested in what the program has to offer and commits to working on the application over the next few months. The group needs to decide who will be on the team and how it will get the necessary funding from the district to participate. They also want to find out more about their current tenth grade biology program. Duane Dupree, who has taught biology for four years and just became the department chair at East HS, agrees to work with Jack on putting together a leadership team from Ridgewood. Duane attended a curriculum

166 R. W. Bybee et al. showcase last summer where he learned about the NSF-funded biology instructional materials mentioned in the NACL program description. Ridgewood Leadership Team Key Administrator: Jack Coach: Virginia Biology Teachers: Duane, Susan, Gary, and Meg Alan Huffman, a veteran teacher and the department chair from West HS, is less enthusiastic than the others. He thinks a new biology program will be a hard sell and will meet with a lot of resistance from the teachers in his school. Virginia Campbell, a mid-career teacher and the department chair from Central HS, disagrees. Like Jack, she feels that change is necessary if Ridgewood teachers are going to meet the needs of all students and be ready for the state assessments.

Year two: getting started The Ridgewood leadership team is accepted into the NACL program and attends the first round of NACL meetings. Alan decides to attend periodic team meetings, but not to participate in the NACL program. He does recruit a biology teacher from West HS to be involved. Virginia and Duane join the team and select lead biology teachers from their schools. With Jack on board, the leadership team is complete. Because of her experience facilitating professional development activities at Central HS, Virginia is chosen to be the coach of the leadership team and Jack serves as the key administrator. A year-and-a-half later, the leadership team has pre-screened all five of the available NSF-funded biology instructional materials. The team chooses three to analyze, using the paper-screen process the team learned in the NACL program. They narrow their choices to two sets of instructional materials. The biology teachers on the team and Duane each pilot a unit from both sets. After analyzing the results, the leadership team makes a decision and selects one set of biology instructional materials to recommend for adoption. When the leadership team members meet in April to discuss how they will present their recommendation to the school board for final approval, the atmosphere is tense. Virginia is adamant that they have taken too many steps on their own as an isolated group within the district. She feels strongly that they need a plan for getting buy-in from the other biology teachers at their schools before seeking school board approval. She has a sinking feeling that they are shooting themselves in the foot. Jack argues that it is better if they get backing from the school board. This way, the teachers will be more accountable for doing what is necessary to implement the new biology instructional materials. Alan, who thought there would be problems with teacher buy-in from the beginning, agrees

A perspective for leadership 167 with Virginia, but has no suggestions for how to deal with the issue. Along with the other biology teachers on the team who piloted and liked the materials, Duane is eager to get board approval to complete the adoption. The team is unsure what its next step should be. While some members feel they need more support from the biology teachers in the district who were not involved in the selection process, others worry that this disagreement within the team is going to hurt the effectiveness of their presentation to the school board. Everyone agrees that they have collected a lot of good evidence to back their recommendation, but they have not shared this information or their process with other key stakeholders in Ridgewood. As the need to move forward becomes dominant in the conversation, the concerns of Virginia and Alan fade from the discussion. The team decides to go ahead with the school board presentation.

Year three: moving along The leadership team is successful in getting board approval for purchasing the selected biology instructional materials. School board members are impressed with the selection process the team conducted and the evidence it presented. The school board decides that all biology teachers in the Ridgewood School District will implement the new instructional materials beginning the next school year. The next fall, team members attend additional NACL meetings and now have strategies for designing professional development to support their implementation efforts. Before the school year begins, the team conducts (with help from the developer and publisher) a week-long summer institute for all Ridgewood biology teachers on teaching the new instructional materials. During the institute, the team encounters a lot of resistance from veteran biology teachers throughout the district. Most of these teachers are upset they were not part of the selection process. In addition, they view textbooks as resources for teaching and have a different understanding of instructional materials from those on the leadership team who participated in the selection process. In October, Jack and the three department chairs complete classroom observations in all three high schools, including a wide range of biology teachers. The overall impression is that teachers with less teaching experience are beginning to implement the new instructional materials, and that veteran teachers are using the new materials as a resource to supplement activities in their existing curriculum. During a visit the next month from the SCI Center at BSCS, the leadership team meets to complete the planning for a follow-up professional development in-service to address the resistance issue. Before the meeting begins, Ray from the SCI Center, visits each high school and several teachers’ classrooms and observes the varied implementation results. As the group assembles, it becomes clear that everyone seems concerned about the future. Right away, Alan reminds the team that he’s been concerned all along about gaining teacher support for changing the biology program. As the

168 R. W. Bybee et al. coach, Virginia says, “Please take a minute and write down what you feel are the reasons for the resistance.” As she charts responses, the team begins to reach some common understandings that help members think more productively about an approach to address the resistance. After listening to the team, Ray suggests they all consider some type of ongoing professional development strategy such as study groups. The biology teachers on the team like the idea, but are concerned about the time it would require. Jack volunteers to meet with the superintendent and the high school principals to find a way to support district-wide study groups for biology teachers. As the team members continue talking, they identify the elements needed to successfully implement study groups. For each element, they determine where they are now, what they need to get started, and how they will keep the process going. Virginia asks, “In the ideal, what is our goal for each of these elements in creating biology study groups?” During the discussion that follows, the team is able to articulate a common understanding of how it is going to institute an ongoing professional development strategy to support its implementation efforts.

Year five: taking stock Two years later, the leadership team has completed the three-year NACL program and Ridgewood is in its third year of implementing a new biology program. The study groups that were begun last year are well established and continue to meet on a regular basis in all three high schools. At each site, the district provides support for a teacher-leader to facilitate the study group, along with time during the school day for the group to meet. The original district leadership team continues to meet and also expands in membership. The team is now working with chemistry teachers on the implementation of new instructional materials that were selected using a similar process, but with greater participation from each high school. Recently there was a discussion in the district about changing the ninth grade science program to a ‘physics first’ curriculum. In February, the expanded district leadership team meets to reflect on the impact of its professional development program. A presentation by several study group members shows how the quality of student work has improved. The change is attributed to both the quality of the implementation and the professional development behind it. The district’s data also indicates that more students are enrolling in chemistry classes. Duane and Alan suggest that the leadership team help organize a districtwide professional development day built on sharing the work of study groups across all three high schools. Duane says, “Now that we’re focusing more on student learning and working effectively at each school, we need a way to collaborate more between schools.” As a result of joining a study group, Alan better understands the biology instructional materials and how they link to his own philosophy of teaching.

A perspective for leadership 169 He points out that teachers at all three high schools have commented on the need for more formative assessments in the curriculum. “An opportunity to work on assessment with teachers from other schools could help lay the groundwork for what we need to sustain the use of these instructional materials,” Alan states. Jack adds, “That makes sense to me. It’s amazing we are still continuing the implementation process we started five years ago. Hopefully all of our work will translate into students doing well on the state assessments that begin this spring.”

Awareness of instructional materials The process of curriculum implementation begins with developing an awareness of instructional materials that align with the National Science Education Standards. The SCI Center supports a variety of standardsbased instructional materials that were developed with funding from the National Science Foundation. As a first step in the process, schools and districts need to assess their current science program by examining teachers’ knowledge and beliefs about learning and teaching science. Schools and districts also need to be aware of how NSF-funded instructional materials can advance and sustain curriculum reform. Selection of instructional materials In the second stage of implementation, the selection of instructional materials is the focus. Selecting instructional materials involves more than looking at the topics covered, reading level, and graphics in a textbook. Selection includes evaluating instructional materials based on how they align with standards. For example, how do the instructional materials support the learning and teaching of science as inquiry? In addition to determining standards alignment, this stage includes determining criteria for selection, completing an evidence-based screening process that leads to piloting, making a decision based on the pilot results, and finally, purchasing new instructional materials. Adoption of instructional materials In the third stage of implementation, adoption, district leaders focus on designing professional development opportunities to support teachers’ use of new instructional materials. Adoption means more than purchasing or learning how to manage new materials. Adoption includes building a professional development infrastructure for ongoing support and feedback. This infrastructure should integrate the knowledge and beliefs of teachers with research on how students learn science and with the resources provided in the instructional materials themselves. Included in the

170 R. W. Bybee et al.

professional development design are mechanisms to evaluate the process and the progress of curriculum implementation. Impact of instructional materials Analyzing curriculum implementation’s impact on students, teachers, and the school community is the fourth stage of this process. Determining the impact of a change process means studying different groups that were involved in the implementation to find out if the process is moving toward the desired outcomes. The goal of this stage is to ensure this impact of implementation by concentrating on how students are learning science concepts using standards-based approaches to learning and teaching. When high-quality, standards-based instructional materials are implemented in conjunction with an ongoing professional development program, the combination can contribute to building both a professional learning community in schools and increasing student achievement. In addition to the stages of curriculum implementation, we have found it important to address several critical elements that influence the effectiveness of the process of curriculum reform. Following are the descriptions of the five critical elements (see Table 9.1). Instructional materials We begin with the reason most school districts initiate curricular reform. Instructional materials are the center of the curriculum implementation process and are the leading edge for promoting science reform within a school or district. Reform-oriented instructional materials are designed to align with the content, teaching and assessment standards described in the National Science Education Standards. In addition to providing “what to teach,” standards-based instructional materials support “how to teach” a variety of curriculum innovations focused on student-centered, inquirybased science instruction. Professional development The vehicle by which the reform spreads through the implementation stages is professional development. Through professional development activities, the teachers and administrators deepen their understanding of teaching and learning using these standards-based instructional materials. In addition, professional development activities continue to widen the circle of support by assisting stakeholders in understanding the reform. Data-driven decisions We have found it essential to introduce the idea of making curricular decisions based on a critical review and evidence. Data-driven decisions

A perspective for leadership 171

provide mechanisms for reflection of the impact of each stage, as well as providing information on which to make decisions for the future stages of implementation. This element also provides data for the next two critical elements.

Advocacy Any innovation requires a community who supports the change. Advocacy reminds us that science is a core curriculum and that quality instructional materials are the cornerstone to quality science programs. Advocacy builds support for quality implementation plans and stays the course for quality impact.

Policy There is a need for principals, superintendents, and school boards to allocate resources and provide support for the implementation of a new science program. Policy provides the ultimate support for curriculum implementation to be initiated and sustained. The combination of stages and critical elements form the framework of the model for the curriculum implementation process used by the SCI Center at BSCS. Table 9.2 uses the SCI Center’s framework to organize an analysis of the curriculum implementation process illustrated in the Ridgewood case study. The story describes four different time periods during the implementation process at Ridgewood that include years one, two, three, and five. Each of these snapshots portrays one of the stages in the SCI Center’s model of the curriculum implementation process. In addition to summarizing each of these snapshots and the different stages of the model, Table 9.2 provides an analysis of the Ridgewood case study by pointing out the benefits from its implementation efforts and describing some of the missed opportunities during the process. The Ridgewood case study is designed to show how the process of curriculum implementation is a systemic change process that requires time, planning, resources, and a shared vision of reform. As the Ridgewood story continues, one can imagine the district continuing through the four stages as they work to sustain the curriculum implementation process. The case study also brings out the critical elements in the SCI Center’s curriculum implementation framework. Our intent is to provide a somewhat realistic portrayal of the curriculum implementation process based on district leadership teams with which we are working. We use the Ridgewood case study as a tool for leadership development in our work with school district teams.

YEAR TWO: Getting started The leadership team members have completed the first year of the NACL program and are ready to recommend their selection for new biology instructional materials to the school board.

He meets with department chairs to gain their support for applying to the NACL program.

AWARENESS Curriculum implementation begins with developing an awareness of instructional materials that align with the NSES.

YEAR ONE: At the beginning A key science leader in the district decides to use the upcoming state assessments and feedback from the local university as drivers to change the tenth grade biology program.

SELECTION The second stage of the implementation process focuses on the selection of standardsbased instructional materials.

Based on this awareness, districts build a case for change by assessing their current science program through examining student achievement and teachers’ knowledge and beliefs about learning and teaching science.

Which stage of the model was taking place?

Summary of Ridgewood snapshot

Adapted the AIM Process to meet their needs and in a timely fashion completed the process with a recommendation to the school board.

Examined the effectiveness of their current biology program.

Developed an awareness of NSF-funded high school biology instructional materials.

Recruited a representative leadership team to participate in the NACL program.

Responded to future state testing by beginning a process to reform tenth grade biology in the district.

What were the benefits to Ridgewood in this stage?

Table 9.2 Curriculum implementation process in the Ridgewood case study

The leadership team members were the only ones who learned and completed the AIM Process.

The leadership team did not develop a shared vision for reform, thus they lacked support from the biology teachers.

The leadership team did not provide awareness sessions with other stakeholders in the district.

What were the missed opportunities by Ridgewood in this stage?

Adoption requires planning a strategy for ongoing implementation through professional development and the use of data to inform decision-making.

ADOPTION In the third stage of the process, adoption, a district leadership team focuses on designing a professional development infrastructure to support teachers’ use of instructional materials.

YEAR THREE: Moving along The leadership team tries to implement new instructional materials with all of the biology teachers in the district but it faces resistance.

The leadership team meets to develop a plan for ongoing professional development to address the resistance.

Selection involves using evidence-based tools to determine how well instructional materials align with science content, teaching, and assessment standards.

Some members of the team express concern about not having more support from other biology teachers.

Learned how to more effectively collaborate and solve problems together as a team.

Conducted classroom observations to determine the level of implementation throughout the district.

Developed a plan for ongoing professional development in order to address resistance.

Worked with the developer and publisher of the new instructional materials to design and conduct a summer institute.

Successfully gained the support of the school board for purchasing new instructional materials.

The leadership team did not advocate a rationale for determining target teachers to scale up the implementation and build support for the use of new instructional materials.

The school board expected all biology teachers to support the selection decision and implement the new instructional materials. However, there was no plan for scaling up the implementation.

The leadership team did not build support for the AIM Process and how it could help the district reach its vision for reform.

As the team plans their next steps, the cycle of curriculum implementation continues.

This stage expands a district’s capacity to sustain the implementation process by focusing on how well students are learning science concepts when teachers use standardsbased approaches to learning and teaching.

IMPACT Analyzing the impact of curriculum implementation on students, teachers, and the school community is the fourth stage of the implementation process.

YEAR FIVE: Taking stock After participating in the NACL program, the leadership team continued to work on science reform.

The leadership team has successfully influenced the culture of learning and teaching in the district.

Which stage of the model was taking place?

Summary of Ridgewood snapshot

Table 9.2 Continued

Viewed curriculum implementation as an ongoing process.

Used student work to generate greater collaboration among biology teachers.

Provided ongoing professional development opportunities to sustain study groups and areas for improvement.

Expanded their reform efforts to involve others in the district.

Instituted school-based implementation study groups.

What were the benefits to Ridgewood in this stage?

The district needs its own assessment process to monitor student achievement and not rely on the state assessments, which may not align with all of the goals or philosophy of the new instructional materials.

What were the missed opportunities by Ridgewood in this stage?

A perspective for leadership 175

Conclusion In this chapter we have developed the themes of leadership and professional development through the process of curriculum implementation. We began by describing a process for selecting instructional materials for curriculum implementation that could serve as transformative professional development. A model for curriculum implementation that includes the stages of awareness, selection, adoption, and impact, provides ample time and opportunities for additional professional development and leadership. The themes and examples in the chapter are based on the work of the SCI Center at BSCS, a high school implementation center funded by the National Science Foundation. The mission of the SCI Center at BSCS is to assist school- and district-based teams as they build the leadership capacity to implement an effective science education program using reformoriented, standards-based instructional materials. The National Academy for Curriculum Leadership is the cornerstone of the SCI Center’s work. While the SCI Center has the aim of improving science teaching, the work is completed through leadership development of district-level professional developers who, in turn, work with classroom teachers. Within this chapter, discussions included principles of effective professional development; the requirements of transformative professional development; a model that links science learning and teaching with professional development and leadership development; and issues associated with curriculum implementation as the context for professional development. We began this chapter by stating that leadership can be learned. We then proceeded to describe how transformative professional development is essential in order to meet this goal. We also provided several examples illustrating the complexities of curriculum implementation as a professional development strategy for developing curriculum leadership. In order to sustain systemic reform in science education, all three are needed: leadership, professional development, and curriculum implementation. It is our contention that leadership development focus on learning how to lead effective professional development that supports a comprehensive view of the curriculum implementation process.

Acknowledgments This chapter was written with contributions by Susan Rust, Aimee Stephenson, Joe Taylor, and Ray Tschillard from the SCI Center at BSCS and Kathy DiRanna, Jo Topps, Karen Cerwin, and Susan Mundry from WestEd.

176 R. W. Bybee et al.

References Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS) and International Business Machines (IBM) (1989) New Designs for Elementary School Science and Health. Dubuque, IA: Kendall/Hunt Publishing Company. Bransford, J., Brown, A. and Cocking, R. (1999) How People Learn: Brain, Mind, Experience and School. Washington, DC: National Academy Press. Cohen, D. K. and Ball, D. L. (2001) Making change: Instruction and its improvement. Phi Delta Kappan, 83(1), 73–77. Loucks-Horsley, S., Hewson, P. W., Love, N. and Stiles, K. E. (1998) Designing Professional Development for Teachers of Science and Mathematics. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press. Loucks-Horsley, S., Stiles, K. E. and Hewson, P. W. (1996) Principles of Effective Professional Development for Mathematics and Science Education: A Synthesis of Standards. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin at Madison, National Institute for Science Education. National Research Council (NRC) (1996) National Science Education Standards. Washington, DC: National Academy Press. National Research Council (NRC) (1999) How People Learn. Washington, DC: National Academy Press. Thompson, C. L. and Zeuli, J. S. (1999) The frame and the tapestry. In L. DarlingHammond and G. Sykes (eds), Teaching as the Learning Profession: Handbook of Policy and Practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, pp. 341–375.

Chapter 10

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees for upper secondary schools Orientations and examples Cécile Vander Borght

Introduction In this chapter, devoted to systemic initiatives for teacher learning, I shall examine how legal and institutional contexts can influence science teacher education curricula and foster leadership development. Through this perspective, I shall first introduce the notion of leadership I intend to use. Second, I shall report on the curriculum (orientations and examples of theories and practices) implemented in initial1 science teacher education for the upper secondary school level at the Faculty of Sciences of the Université Catholique de Louvain (UCL). I will show how this curriculum fits with the new trends in science teaching and with the new legal framework for the Communauté française de Belgique (BFC). In so doing I intend to illustrate how the science teacher education curriculum can be influential in leadership development. Through this local context, then, the examples will show how systemic initiatives can offer new ways of leading in science education.

What is leadership? Educating people to produce change According to Ramsden (1998), leadership within a university is the ability to work effectively with people to negotiate the goals and purposes of the academic unit they work in and to collaborate with others in developing and implementing plans to achieve those goals. ‘Leadership is to do with how people relate to each other. Leadership is not fundamentally about the attributes the leader has, but about what the leader does in the context of an academic department, research group or course’ (ibid., p. 80). Ramsden, borrowing from Kotter’s (1990, p. 139) conceptualisation of leadership summarises these perceptions by comparing how managers and

178 Cécile Vander Borght

leaders do the following: create an agenda; develop a human network; and execute the agenda to achieve the desired outcomes. If, according to Kotter and Ramsden, leaders and managers are both needed in an institution, they perform differently. Leaders set directions, align people and groups and motivate and inspire them; managers plan and budget, organise and staff, control and solve problems. Ramsden sees the leader as an agent of change and the manager as someone who creates order. One might wonder about the relevance of a theory built for higher education in a book devoted to secondary school teacher education. Ramsden has developed the comparison between the vision of a teacher as a manager and as a leader. This view of leadership can be applied to secondary school science teachers. Table 10.1, derived from Kouzes and Posner (1995), as cited in Ramsden (1998, pp. 110–113), summarises the main capabilities that a secondary school teacher requires in order to fulfil both managerial and leadership roles. Analysis of Table 10.1 shows that teachers, either as managers or as leaders, have to plan, develop a human network and carry out an agenda. The fundamental difference between them lies in the relation they have to knowledge and to power. Indeed, in the first case, the teacher/trainer owns an objective and cumulative knowledge. Since the teacher controls and solves problems, he/she owns the ‘right’ solution. The teaching strategy is centred on the model (right solution, codified knowledge) and the gap between this model and students’ knowledge. This perspective of leadership development requires a preliminary action or motivation in order to arouse the person’s autonomy. Therefore, to educate teachers in leadership development, there is a request for, or expectation that, modifications be made not only to the specific content but to the entire curriculum. In many ways, it is a request that begs, as Kuhn (1962) might put it, a paradigmatic revolution. Concurrent with transformations in society and the rise of active teaching strategies, teacher education in the past few years has been increasingly concerned with the leadership role: ‘How should teachers be educated to enable them to promote and achieve change in their (future) schools and with their (future) students?’ This question then invokes another: ‘What specific and concrete measures in science teacher education curricula are necessary for this goal to be realised?’ In other words, what does change mean for science education? What does ‘change’ mean for science education? A caricature of science is that it has been taught, up to now, by lectures and laboratories that were designed as applications of the theory. Concepts were taught for their own sake (‘bald’ objects, Larochelle, 2002), not related to contexts that made sense for the students. Teaching was ‘teacher-centred’ rather than ‘student-centred’.

Organising and staffing

Develop a human network

Controlling and solving problems

Creating order

Execute the agenda

Towards

Both inside the classroom and between teachers

Planning teaching/learning sequences

Create an agenda

Abilities of the teacher as a manager (doing things right)

Inspiring a shared vision

Looking for resources

Evaluating and assessing

Producing change

Motivating and inspiring

Aligning people and groups

Modelling the way

Timetables

Establishing and managing the didactic contract

Setting direction

Abilities of the teacher as a Leader (doing the right things)

Formulating detailed steps

Requires teacher education

Table 10.1 What teachers need in order to act as managers and leaders (derived from Kouzes and Posner, 1995)

Energising students to overcome barriers to change

Working in teams that accept the validity of the vision

Communicating direction

Experimenting and taking risk

Enabling others to act

Strategies for producing the changes needed to achieve the vision

Formulating a vision of the distant future

Requires teacher education

180 Cécile Vander Borght

There are, however, some new orientations for science education (Millar and Osborne, 1998) that take into account reflections about the crisis in science teaching (Fourez, 2001), the publication of the results of the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) project, the needs of society (Sjoberg, 2001) and the results of what research in science education has to say about ‘learning sciences’ (Millar et al., 2000). For example, consider the following: •

•

•

•

Goals More weight should be placed on aspects of science that can be readily seen to contribute to the overall goals of schooling: educating ‘people at all levels who are entrepreneurs, not robots’ (Sjoberg, 2001). Epistemology of sciences Science and technology should be presented as truly human activities with more weight on cultural, historical and philosophical aspects of science and technology. The key concern is not only the scientific and the technological content, but also the relationship between science and technology and society at large. This implies that ethical and environmental issues must be taken into account. Science should be presented as knowledge that builds on evidence as well as arguments in a creative process (Sjoberg, 2001). Methodology of science teaching There should be more emphasis on placing science and technology in meaningful contexts for learners. This often implies relying on examples from everyday life and current socio-scientific issues. These topics are, by their very nature, interdisciplinary and require cooperation between teachers. Such issues often require appropriate teaching-learning methods, such as project work. Learning Learning is based on the construction, by the learner, of his/her own knowledge from interaction with others and with the environment (Jonnaert and Vander Borght, 1999). Learning aims to enable the student to share science as socialised knowledge.2

What are the issues for educating teachers towards leadership? From the above perspectives, teachers should be educated in how to implement active teaching strategies and to relate events from everyday life with scientific contents. These new orientations upset the customary relationship to knowledge (Lesne, 1977) through which many science teachers were taught. They are faced with a need to change their ‘epistemological posture (Desautels and Larochelle, 1998) and to move from a relationship of knowledge for itself, ‘decontextualised’ and ‘desyncretisised’ (Astolfi, 1997) through to knowledge in context.

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 181

In order to become leaders, future teachers also have to change the classroom power relationships. Instead of telling students what they have to learn, teachers need to create conditions for learning. That is not to say that the teachers no longer have the prerogative to shape the content but rather that they need to find a means to appropriately re-structure the content. If Ramsden’s view of leadership is applied to science teacher education, then it is reasonable to assert that science teacher education should be oriented towards leadership development, i.e. enabling future teachers to formulate their vision of change, to develop their capacity to work in teams, and to energise students in order to produce change. It is also obvious that activities likely to develop such competencies must be integral to the curriculum. Science teacher education then must be able to address these issues if future science teachers are to become true leaders in this process of change.

Science teacher education curricula and context Many different factors influence the curriculum for science teacher education. In this section, I draw on the Université Catholique de Louvain (UCL) teacher education curriculum to establish a foundation that might lead to the development of novel orientations (as has occurred in our Faculty of Science) that integrate new approaches in science teaching and learning and the conceptions of science student teachers about their own education. Figure 10.1 presents an overview of these different influences. Regulations applicable to teacher education programmes Changes in teacher education for grades 10 to 12 have recently been launched by the government of the Communauté française de Belgique (BFC) through a decree that sets out thirteen competencies (see Box 10.1) to be acquired and developed by teachers during their teacher education programme. It is the first time in French-speaking Belgium that such prescriptions have been expressed in terms of competencies3 as previous curricula were formulated exclusively in terms of content to be acquired. Even though all thirteen competencies are an integral part of teacher education, I will focus more specifically on seven of them (in italics in Box 10.1), as they are directly related to science education. I will then compare these with the competencies chosen by UCL for teacher education. These competencies are rather general. They are prescribed for all teachers, not only for science teachers. They do, however, concur with the perspective proposed by researchers and particularly by Louis (1993) in

182 Cécile Vander Borght

Government regulations for teacher education: competencybased; self-study

Government regulations about secondary school curriculum: making secondary school students become selfconfident, responsible citizens; learning based on development of competencies

Research about learning and in science education: science in context; socio-constructivism competencies

New science curriculum: ethics, competencies, constructivism

Evolving demands from science student teachers about their training: relation; how to teach taking learners into account; how to teach science in context?

Orientation for teacher education at UCL: socio-constructivism; reflection about sciences; their implications; active teaching strategies; student orientated

Orientation for biology and chemistry teacher education at the faculty of sciences: active teaching strategies – PBL; scientific competencies; science in context; self-studying

Towards leadership and professional development?

Figure 10.1 Influences on UCL’s science teacher education curriculum.

her report of an investigation of American senior high school teachers’ perceptions of the qualities of an effective principal. Louis states that: these principals were people who participated in the life of the school and were prepared to spend time on the details of providing good

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 183

Box 10.1 Competencies prescribed by the government of the Communauté française de Belgique for teacher education 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Being informed about his/her role inside the school institution and exercising the profession as it is defined by legal texts. Mobilising knowledge in social sciences to accurately interpret the real classroom situation to better adapt to the students. Mastering disciplinary and interdisciplinary knowledge and justifying pedagogical action. Being able to conceive, assess, evaluate and regulate teaching strategies. Being able to plan, manage and evaluate teaching situations. Showing his/her general knowledge in order to engage the interest of students in the cultural world. Having developed relational competencies linked to the professional demands. Being able to measure the ethical outcomes linked with his/her everyday practices. Being critical and autonomous towards past and future scientific knowledge. Being able to work in a team inside the school. Being able to study his/her own practice. Maintaining efficient partnerships with the institution, colleagues and the students’ parents. Organising continuing education.

teaching and ensuring high quality learning. They focused their leadership on educational values; they put a strong emphasis on caring about students and their development. They brought new ideas and knowledge about teaching into their schools from the outside world, and they modelled risk-taking in their own practices. They were visible, they communicated a vision, they obtained resources, they recognised achievement, and they managed in a way that was consistently participative and empowering. (Cited in Ramsden, 1998, p. 81) It is not difficult to see how the qualities of an effective principal can be extended to the qualities required of effective teachers. It seems at this point pertinent to consider the competencies in Box 10.1 to address the question: are decisions taken at the political level consistent with (or at least not in opposition to) our view of leadership development in teacher education? First of all, it is worth noting that the government regulations fail to recognise the dimension of innovation in teaching and do not speak explicitly about the necessary changes. Therefore, at first

184 Cécile Vander Borght

glance, it could appear as though these competencies do not fit with the notion of leadership development. However, although some competencies are linked to management (3, 4, 5, 7, 12), others are leadership-oriented (1, 2, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11). The government of BFC has not only decreed new orientations for teacher education, it has also prescribed learning issues for secondary schools in general and for science education in particular. Prescriptions for science education programmes Learning issues assigned to secondary schools For the first time in French-speaking Belgium, changes in curricula for secondary schools (grades 7–12) have been prescribed by means of a Decree (AGERS, 2001) describing the ‘mission’ of secondary schools, enacted by the government of the BFC. As is the case for teacher education, secondary school curricula are based on competencies and are focused on student-centred objectives as shown in Box 10.2.

Box 10.2 Some objectives assigned to secondary schools by decree Article 6: The Communauté française de Belgique assigns the following objectives simultaneously and without hierarchy: • •

•

promoting self-confidence and the development of the personality of every secondary school student; bringing all students to appropriate knowledge levels, leading them to acquire competencies which enable lifelong learning, and preparing them to take active roles in the socio-economic-cultural life; preparing all secondary school students to be responsible citizens, able to contribute to the development of a democratic society, expressing solidarity, pluralism and openness to other societies;

Article 8: In order to attain the objectives mentioned above, knowledge and know-how are placed in the perspective of acquisition of competencies . . . Each school/institution will take care of: • • •

fostering discovery, production and creative activities; articulating theory and practice; allowing students to infer concepts from practice.

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 185

Underlying ideology for science education These general guidelines for secondary schools have been ‘translated’ into specific curricula for each discipline. Box 10.3 presents the ideology of Science underlying the decree of the BFC. Box 10.3 shows a vision of sciences as an interdisciplinary process of problem-solving, based on experience, linked to everyday life and taking ethical and environmental issues into account. This vision is consistent with the competencies prescribed by the Government of the Communauté française de Belgique for teacher education (see Box 10.1). It is interesting to note though that the ideology conveyed by the previous curricula was rather empirical (Secrétariat National de l’Enseignement Catholique, 1979; Fourez, 1995; de Bueger-Vander Borght, 1995), drawing on the well-known ‘OHERIC’ process (Observation, Hypothesis, Experimentation, Results, Interpretation, Conclusion). Box 10.3 suggests that this point of view has evolved (at least in the minds of the curriculum designers) and now fits with current constructivist views about epistemology. Box 10.3 Ideology of science conveyed by the BFC decree for Science Education (Ministère de la Communauté française, 2001) Science education must make students aware that biology, chemistry and physics: • • • • • • • •

continuously use models within their limits, which permit the description of a rather complex reality; are everyday life sciences which must serve people by raising new questions about their wealth, their environment and their well-being; are experimental sciences utilising rational processes to solve problems; confront spontaneous conceptions with standardised models; must be articulated with other disciplines in order to provide a global vision of reality; are born and are developing in specific cultural, socio-economic and technical contexts; are amenable to ethical approaches; use reasoning that is inductive, deductive, by analogy, or by systemic analysis.

Scientific attitudes and competencies The attitudes and scientific competencies aimed for by the BFC are presented in Box 10.4.

186 Cécile Vander Borght

Box 10.4 Attitudes and scientific competencies to be pursued during science courses (Ministère de la Communauté française, 2001) Attitudes befitting a scientific ethos: • • •

intellectual honesty; balance between open-mindedness and scepticism; curiosity.

Scientific competencies: • • • • • • • • •

appropriating fundamental concepts, models, or principles; carrying on research and using models; using experimental processes; building logical reasoning; using communication procedures; solving concrete applications; using adequate mathematical and computing tools; using scientific knowledge in order to enrich interdisciplinary representations; making links between processes and notions seen in science and elsewhere.

From Box 10.4, it is clear then that science teachers need to be educated in approaches that enable students to adopt ethical attitudes and to master scientific competencies by referring to a constructivist point of view in their consideration of science and scientific enterprises (Vander Borght, in press). Teacher education at UCL Up to this point, I have looked at government points of view regarding teacher education and science education. Now I shall compare these elements (learning issues: Box 10.2, ideology: Box 10.3 and scientific attitudes: Box 10.4) with the science teacher education curriculum that we have implemented at UCL and try to show to what extent they fit with the attempt to develop leadership. As a teacher educator, I have actively participated in the reconceptualisation of the science teacher education curriculum at UCL (designed before the issue of the relevant decree by the government of the FCB). In simple terms, it can be described as shown in Box 10.5. A comparison with the competencies prescribed by the government of the FCB for teacher education (Boxes 10.1, 10.2 and 10.3) reveals a rather

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 187

Box 10.5 Competencies aimed for by science teacher education at UCL During his/her science teacher education at UCL, the future teacher will be trained to do the following: 1 2 3 4 5

6 7 8

9

observe and analyse teaching and learning practices; understand the school system and its environment; integrate him/herself into a process of didactic research; communicate scientific knowledge and, therefore, master the discipline being taught; design and organise science teaching and learning activities with a ‘science in context perspective’, which integrates science, technology and society and in which the student is required to participate in the construction of his/her knowledge; evaluate and regulate teaching and learning practices; understand adolescents in their school context and manage groups of adolescents; prepare science teaching units which enable students to understand the world around them (both their immediate and more remote environment), so they can locate themselves within it with greater accuracy and thus be better trained to meet their social responsibilities; know oneself and be able to study oneself.

high level of (unintended) congruence. The aim is to educate teachers in a way such that they would: • • •

become aware of the meaning of a socio-constructivist process in learning; be able to reflect about science and its implications; implement teaching strategies that are more student-centred.

In the following, I will offer some examples to show how these learning issues are currently implemented in our science teacher education curriculum. What teacher trainees are looking for when they begin science teacher education at UCL In this section, I report on student science teachers’ (at UCL) views and expectations about teacher education. The data were collected at two different times. First, at the start of their teacher education programme and second, six months later, after their school teaching practice supervised by mentors4 and drawn from their portfolio discussions.

188 Cécile Vander Borght

Report from an observed science lesson The first task that student science teachers are asked to complete involves the observation of a science course sequence. The aim of this activity is for science student teachers to view the ‘reality’ of school from a perspective different from that which they most likely had when they were secondary school students themselves and to begin to reflect upon and develop their views about teaching and learning. After completing this task, the student teachers participate in a group discussion about their observations and their expectations. They then describe what the teacher was doing when s/he was teaching and what the secondary school students were doing when they were learning. Table 10.2 shows the results of the discussion of a particular group of six science student teachers (other groups produced similar ideas).

Table 10.2 The main activities of teachers and students during a lesson according to science teacher trainees What the teacher does when he/she is teaching

What the student does when he/she is learning

The course Formulating objectives Defining concepts to be acquired by the students Re-formulating Illustrating by means of examples, exercises Synthesising Giving instructions

Listening Thinking Transcribing

Interaction Capturing student attention by engaging their interest and curiosity Assessing: encouraging, stimulating, Answering the question, listening, taking the student into account Observing the students Asking student to go to the blackboard Maintaining discipline

Raising his/her hand Answering questions Speaking Respecting others

Movements – attitudes Smiling, greeting Moving Changing tone, making gestures

Listening Concentrating Looking at

Organisation Diary Respecting time

Completing diary

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 189

What is interesting to note here is the high number of ‘passive’ verbs assigned to the students. This suggests that at the outset of their teacher education programme, these student science teachers have a teachercentred rather than student-centred outlook on learning such that learning itself is considered to be a rather passive process. Therefore, it seems reasonable to assert that initial teacher education should include activities that develop teachers’ abilities to implement teaching strategies in which students are led to build up their own knowledge. Another interesting observation is that none of the student teachers expresses him/herself specifically about teaching/learning of science. Rather, the comments are general and apply to the teaching of any subject. Since student teachers have observed that ‘managing one’s class’ is rather difficult, when they speak about what they are looking for during teacher education, it is interesting to note that the first requirements concern the relationship with students (how to avoid unrest) and how to motivate students to learn. With regard to the leadership point of view (Table 10.1), we must recognise that at the very beginning of their teacher education programme, student teachers are more centred on managing than on leadership development; even when they emphasise motivation, they actually point out more managing tasks. Information from portfolios A portfolio (Evrard and Vander Borght, 1998) is a very powerful tool for preparing future teachers to develop their skills in self-study and reflection. During the year 2001–2002, student teachers were asked to construct a portfolio taking into account the four items listed in Box 10.6. My aim here is not to report quantitative results of the systematic analysis of portfolios (see Todoroff and Vander Borght, in press) written by student science teachers. It is to focus on their main conceptions regarding the teaching of science following involvement in science teacher education and after beginning to teach under the supervision of a mentor. I have elicited conceptions of student teachers from the priorities they evoke (see Box 10.6), together with the justifications for their choices for the preparation of the teaching units (see Box 10.6). Box 10.7 presents a synthesis, extracted from the portfolios, of all the priorities of student science teachers with respect to educational objectives (see Box 10.6). Compared with the initial conceptions shown in Table 10.2, Box 10.7 reveals an evolution in the way the teacher is perceived (mediator rather than transmitter) and in the way the secondary school student is seen (developing abilities such as autonomy, curiosity, rather than listening, writing, answering questions). Two new items are evoked in their portfolio (see Box 10.7) about the kind of science to teach (science in context) and

190 Cécile Vander Borght

Box 10.6 Items required in the portfolio Educational objectives – priorities: • • • •

As a science teacher, what are my priorities? Degree of attainment of these priorities. Means mobilised to improve learning. Reflection about the evolution of my teaching project.

Reported dialogues with mentors: • • • •

Advice received. Instructions to be respected. Reports on lessons given. Suggestions for improvement.

Teaching preparation and justification of such preparations: • • • •

Teaching strategies. Texts written for secondary school students. Documents related to formative and summative assessment. Priorities that the future science teacher wants to develop during the lesson.

Toolkit: • • •

Concepts coming from didactics or other fields. Ideas for follow-up courses. Documents which influence my priorities.

the values to develop by means of the teaching of science (citizenship). With regard to leadership development, we can say that student teachers’ conceptions are therefore evolving from being management-centred (planning, organising, etc.) towards being leader-centred. Indeed, they emphasise motivation (transmit the taste for science), set new direction for teaching (process to change/understand society) or for science teaching (science in context) and consider the role of the teacher differently from the one who organises and directs (teachers as mediator rather than as transmitter).

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 191

Box 10.7 Science teacher trainees’ priorities for teaching Science teaching: why? • •

to make students acquire investigative skills; to transmit the ‘taste for science’.

Which science to teach? • •

science in context; taking into account ethical questions.

Vision of the teacher • •

mediator rather than transmitter; generator of conditions (of learning).

Teaching •

process to change/understand society.

What to develop in students • • • • • •

autonomy; curiosity; motivation; will to undertake; taste for learning; critical thinking.

Teacher’s position in the class • • • •

managing the class; feeling at ease, managing his/her uncertainty; being confronted by changes; transmitting knowledge with enthusiasm.

Values •

citizenship.

How to teach? •

taking learners into account.

192 Cécile Vander Borght

Attempt to develop leadership in science teacher trainees at UCL: model of training The foregoing activities are intended to help trainee teachers identify ideas about their future practice. Here I describe the model of teacher training employed at UCL and how this model is relevant for leadership development. Teacher education has traditionally been considered as a rather ‘technical’ educational process, during which future teachers are given tricks of the trade about ‘how to teach science content’. Hence, teacher education has largely been based on examples of ‘good teaching practice’. This model is consistent with the development of teachers as managers, whereby the teacher holds the reins in the teaching process. However, professional activities now go far beyond ‘prefabricated solutions’. At school, teachers operate within complex and unpredictable situations and a teacher education programme based on mere reproduction of standard solutions does not model actual school situations. Teachers should be educated in ways of offering, ‘judicious and thoughtful services, in unique, vague and complex situations, where he/she could be confronted to value conflicts and ethical problems’ (Tardif, 1996, p. 33). The education of such professionals requires that: • • • •

student teachers face a great many practice situations; student teachers have opportunities for self-study; student teachers have many occasions to observe experts in teaching and in self-study; the assessment of their professional competence takes into account the quality of the services they can offer in a variety of unique, vague and complex situations.

But what does this mean with respect to teacher education? Current trends in teacher education (Altet, 1994, p. 247; Paquay et al., 1996; Schneeberger and Triquet, 2001) claim a principle of isomorphism between teacher preparation and teaching situations. This principle implies, in order to help future teachers adapt to unforeseeable situations, they should come to grips with as many teaching models as possible during their own teacher preparation. It aligns with the idea that learning and cognition is intimately bound up with a context. Once transposed into the area of teacher education, this option signifies that it is not enough to offer prospective teachers a series of teaching models, however much reflexive potential these models contain: we must also put them into practice (Desautels and Larochelle, 1998). At UCL we have adopted this principle of isomorphism for initial teacher education. By using different models of active teaching strategies

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 193

(Problem-Based-Learning (PBL),5 project-oriented teaching strategies, etc.) to train the student teachers, we are hopefully enabling them to later implement such active strategies themselves in their own teaching. In this context, the learning issues (such as relating science to everyday life, addressing the impact of science on society, implementing competencebased thinking into their teaching, giving more meaning to the content they are teaching than merely ‘science for science itself’, teaching sciences in relation with questions and scientific dilemmas, making them aware of the difference between phenomena and scientific models) are set up from the student teachers’ needs and from the difficulties we have observed when watching them teaching. By using such a model, and studying themselves as they use it, we hope the student teachers will feel the changes in relation to power and knowledge that underline leadership development. From this perspective, Figure 10.2 illustrates the progression during teacher education: the student, on his/her own and rather individualistic at first, begins teacher education with his/her scientific curriculum. He/she is involved in an education programme where he/she meets other people, is invited to ‘revisit’ his/her vision of sciences and science teaching through experiences with secondary school students, facing didactical problems and, working in a team. He/she eventually departs from initial teacher education with a toolkit (not receipts) and a confidence in other co-workers.

Figure 10.2 Journey through initial science teacher training.

194 Cécile Vander Borght

Conclusion In this chapter I have attempted to describe the landscape of one particular initial teacher education programme in order to illustrate the concept of systemic initiatives for teacher learning. Indeed, it would be very difficult to introduce such a change without situating it in an educative system from a region and exploring its impact. I have described some of the factors which underlie the new trends for science education and for science teacher education both at governmental and at university level. I have summarised the panorama and, for each level of the educative system, I have indicated the main features: the competencies; constructivism (both for epistemology and teaching/learning strategy); self-study; and ‘science in context’ which shape the landscape of teacher education. What has this panorama to say about leadership development? A socioconstructivist framework for teaching leads the didactic, directive educator/teacher to step aside in favour of autonomous learners, enabling learners to act, experiment, take risks and work in teams. A socioconstructivist perspective for an epistemology of science leads learners to link scientific contents to projects and contributes to a changed vision of the world. Does this mean that leadership development is occurring in secondary schools? Substantial barriers stand in the way of progress. The first barrier concerns the organisation of secondary schools. In order to develop leadership, secondary school teachers need to be encouraged to work in teams. This means that appropriate time should be devoted in their schedule to collaboration. Few schools, however, take this opportunity. Working in teams is usually left to the initiative of the teachers themselves, not the institutions in which they work. The second barrier concerns the development of the teacher him/herself. Teachers face a change in relation to power and knowledge that can be personally uncomfortable. The status of the theoretical knowledge has changed as well as the role of the teacher. According to Lesne, ‘the power of the educator is not to develop knowledge, to create attitudes towards a given situation but more to clarify, in group, real situations and to build appropriate answers’ (1977, p. 142). From this perspective, changing the role of the teacher is essential in order to help students compare their perception of reality with theory and to move forward. This chapter has addressed some aspects of the problematic nature of leadership development in science teacher education by considering a number of orientations and examples. Development of leadership among all members of the school community (students, teachers and administrators) is important work which lies at the heart of the business of education. We need to continue to strive for this outcome.

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 195

Acknowledgements The author would like to thank Jenny Donovan, John Loughran, John Wallace, E. Milgrom and G. Capart, who, with vigilance and diligence, have re-read the text.

Notes 1

2 3 4 5

In French-speaking Belgium, in order to become a teacher in the upper secondary school level (grades 10–12), graduates must attend a 300-hours course at the university (teachers for grades 1–9 are educated in other institutions). The teacher trainees mentioned here all have a previous degree in chemistry, biology, agronomy, or pharmacy. In the text, I call them ‘science teacher trainees’. There are two words for ‘knowledge’ in French. One – connaissance – emphasises the individual dimension of knowledge while the other – savoir – puts more emphasis on socialised knowledge. A competence is a set of organised capacities (activities), which act on contents in a given category of situations in order to solve a problem (De Ketele, 1996). Mentors are secondary school science teachers who accompany teacher trainees; they are chosen by UCL because they share our view of science teacher education. http://www.fsa.ucl.ac.be/candis/m-o/fsapp-st-v6.pdf.

References AGERS (2001) Décret Missions du 24 juillet 1997 – art. 6 http://www.cdadoc. cfwb.be/RechDoc/docForm.asp?docid=764 &docname=19970724s21557: accessed. Altet, M. (1994) La Formation professionnelle des enseignants. Paris: PUF. Astolfi, J. P. (1997) Mots-clefs de la Didactique des sciences. Bruxelles: De Boeck. de Bueger-Vander Borght, C. (1995) L’épistémologie dans la pratique de la classe? In A. Giordan, J.-L. Martinand and D. Raichvarg (eds), Actes des XVIIièmes Journées internationales sur la communication, l’Education et la Culture Scientifiques et Industrielles. Chamonix: Centre Franco, pp. 193–196. De Ketele, J.-M. (1996) L’évaluation des acquis scolaires: quoi? Pourquoi? Pour quoi? Cited by X. Roegiers (2000) Une Pédagogie de l’intégration: compétences et intégration des acquis dans l’enseignement. Bruxelles: De Boeck. Desautels, J. and Larochelle, M. (1998) About the epistemological posture of science teachers. In A. Tiberghien, L. Jossem and J. Bajoras (eds), Connecting Research in Physics Education with Teacher Education. UNESCO and International Commission on Physics Education [Online] http://www.physics.ohiostate.edu/~jossem/ICPE/BOOKS.html: accessed. Evrard, N. and Vander Borght, C. (1998) Le portfolio, un outil stimulant pour la construction d’une identité professionnelle. Description d’un processus. In A. Giordan, J.-L. Martinand and D. Raichvarg (eds), Actes des XX Journées internationales sur la communication, l’Education et la Culture Scientifiques et Industrielles. Chamonix: Centre Franco. Fourez, G. (2001) Crise de sens dans l’enseignement des sciences, Cahiers Marxistes, 220, Nov.–Dec., 67–88. http://www.kcl.ac.uk/depsta/education/be2000/be2000.pdf: accessed.

196 Cécile Vander Borght Fourez, G. and de Bueger, C. (1995) Introduction à la socio-épistémologie. In A. Giordan, J.-L. Martinand and D. Raichvarg (eds), Actes des XVIIièmes Journées internationales sur la communication, l’Education et la Culture Scientifiques et Industrielles. Chamonix: Centre Franco, pp. 185–192. Jonnaert, Ph. and Vander Borght, C. (1999) Créer des conditions d’apprentissage. Un Cadre de référence socioconstructiviste pour la formation didactique des enseignants. Bruxelles: De Boeck, pp. 29, 163–215. Kotter, J. P. (1990) A Force for Change: How Leadership Differs from Management. New York: Free Press. Kouzes, J. M. and Posner, B. Z. (1995) The Leadership Challenge. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Kuhn, T. (1962) The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Larochelle, M. (2002) Rapport au savoir et socialisation à la société savante. In Actes des Troisièmes Journées d’études Franco-Québecoises: didactiques et rapports aux savoirs. Paris: Université René Descartes, pp. 58–76. Lesne, M. (1977) Travail pédagogique et formation d’adultes. Relation to knowledge: conceptions and options related to contents conveyed by the education: knowledge at a large scale, ways of acting, of thinking, of perceiving. Paris: PUF. Louis, K. S. (1993) Beyond bureaucracy: rethinking how schools change, invited address, International Congress for School Effectiveness and Improvement, Norrköping, January. Millar, R. and Osborne, J. (eds) (1998) Beyond 2000: Science education for the future. The report of a seminar series funded by the Nuffield Foundation. http://www.kcl.ac.uk/depsta/education/be2000/be2000.pdf: accessed. Millar, R., Leach, J. and Osborne, J. (eds) (2000) Improving Science Education: The Contribution of Research. London: Open University Press. Ministère de la Communauté française. Administration générale de l’Enseignement et de la Recherche Scientifique (2001) Compétences Terminales et savoirs requis en sciences: humanités générales et technologiques. http://www.restode.cfwb.be/download/programmes/60-2000-240.pdf: accessed. Paquay, L., Altet, M., Charlier, É. and Perrenoud, Ph. (eds) (1996) Former des Enseignants professionnels. Quelles stratégies? Quelles compétences? Bruxelles: de Boeck. PBL http://www.fsa.ucl.ac.be/candis/publications/fsapp-st-v6.pdf Pisa Project http://www.pisa.oecd.org/ Ramsden, P. (1998) Learning to Lead in Higher Education. London: Routledge. Schneeberger, P. and Triquet, E. (eds) (2001) Didactique et formation des enseignants. Aster. 32. Paris: INRP. Secrétariat National de l’Enseignement Catholique, Bureau pédagogique (1979) Programmes Expérimentaux pour le troisième degré. Brussels: LICAP, pp. 8–9. Sjoberg, S. (2001) Science and technology in education: current challenges and possible solutions, invited contribution to the meeting of Ministers of Education and Research in the European Union. Uppsala, Sweden, 1–3 March. http://folk.uio.no/sveinsj/STE_paper_Sjoberg_UNESCO2.htm: accessed. Tardif, J. (1996) L’entrée par la question de la formation des enseignants: le transfert des compétences analysé à travers la formation de professionnels. In P. Meirieu, M. Develay, C. Durand and Y. Mariani (eds), Le Transfert des

Developing leadership in science teacher trainees 197 connaissances en formation initiale et continue. Lyons: Centre régional de documentation pédagogique de l’académie de Lyon, pp. 31–47. Todoroff, S. and Vander Borght, C. (in press) Utilisation du portfolio avec de futurs enseignants en sciences. In J. L. Dufays and Fr. Thyrion Ecrit Réflexif et formation des enseignants: recherches en formation des enseignants et en didactique. Louvain: Louvain-la-Neuve Presses. Vander Borght, C. (in press) D’un décret politique à sa mise en pratique dans l’enseignement. Une approche socioconstructiviste des compétences dans l’enseignement secondaire en sciences? In L. Lafortune (ed.) Education-Recherche. Quebec: Presses Universitaires du Québec.

Chapter 11

Systemic teacher development to enhance the use of argumentation in school science activities Shirley Simon, Jonathan Osborne and Sibel Erduran

Introduction Innovations to enhance student performance in school science have traditionally been designed by curriculum developers for subsequent implementation by teachers. This ‘top-down’ practice, for instance, was the model of central innovations disseminated to ‘peripheral’ teachers that underpinned the Nuffield innovations of the 1960s. Few of these initiatives have been implemented and sustained as intended, and much evaluation has focused on objectives for student performance rather than on any lasting impact on classroom practice (Waring, 1979). One method of addressing this problem, used by the Secondary Science Curriculum Review in the UK in the early 1980s, was to reverse the locus of innovation and work from the ‘bottom up’ (Secondary Science Curriculum Review, 1987) – from the periphery to the centre. However, the lack of coherence, vision and central direction resulted in a failure to establish a definitive curriculum product and disseminate it to those teachers who had not participated in the development work. Informed by literature on educational change (e.g. Fullan, 1991), and the failures of the past, we are now witnessing a re-evaluation of the relationship between curriculum innovators and practitioners towards a more careful consideration of how teacher development can result in sustained change. Current thinking has recognized that a centrally important concept for any curriculum innovation is that of ‘ownership’ (Ogborn, 2002). Innovations succeed when teachers have a sense that new approaches belong to them, at least in part. In contrast, attempts to impose change, such as the introduction of the assessment of investigations in the English science National Curriculum are resented, undermined and ultimately fail (Donnelly et al., 1996). However, this does not mean that there is not a role for strong project leadership which offers a coherent vision of overall aims and strategies. As Ogborn (2002) argues, there ‘has to be something of real novel value for teachers to identify with’. However, the need for ownership requires that teachers are a

Systemic teacher development 199

central feature of the process of development and not marginalized to becoming deliverers of someone else’s innovations. They must be free to adapt, transform and develop the ideas to their own context and, if necessary, change their aim, function or implementation. Only in this manner can teachers begin to own new practice and to incorporate it into their regular repertoire of strategies and approaches to the teaching of science. Hence, many research teams are now currently working collaboratively with small groups of teachers, in such a manner, drawing on theoretical ideas and putting these into practice in order to develop materials and strategies that can be adopted and owned by larger groups of teachers. Such collaborative approaches to research and development are exemplified by projects based at King’s College, London, where theoretically driven initiatives (Adey et al., 2001; Black et al., 2002) are enabling teachers to have a substantial formative influence on the research and curriculum development process. In a similar vein, the research reported in this chapter examines another initiative undertaken at King’s College, London with a group of teachers to enhance students’ argumentation in school science. In setting out to support pedagogical strategies to create high quality argumentation, we, the researchers, have provided both theoretical ideas and practical resources in an attempt to create change in teacher practice (LoucksHorsley et al., 1998). In short, we saw our role as offering a new vision of why this practice mattered and how it might be taught. Nevertheless, we recognized that teachers had important contributions to make towards our thinking. Through working collaboratively with teachers to develop argumentation activities and teaching strategies, and through analysing teachers’ practice as these are implemented in classrooms, we hoped to gain insights that would inform subsequent curriculum developments aimed at a wider audience of practitioners. Through the story of this initiative to initiate lessons devoted to argumentation in school science, this chapter offers insights into the process of teacher learning and the requirements for sustaining change – insights that we hope will be valuable for others.

Rationale for promoting argumentation in school science The work reported here has focused on the development of students’ ability to argue scientifically in small groups, using evidence to justify positions and to engage rationally in oppositional discourse. Such skills are important for life in contemporary society, which involves making decisions about a range of socio-scientific issues. Choices such as those about the food we eat and the vaccinations we give our children are

200 S. Simon et al.

guided by how we understand and evaluate scientific arguments. Our decision-making is often based on information available through press and media accounts, which may report contested claims arising from different sources of evidence. Evaluating such reports is not straightforward, as it requires the ability to assess the validity and reliability of evidence used in scientific arguments (Millar and Osborne, 1998). To be able to engage in scientific debates and make informed decisions, young people need to develop an understanding of the nature of scientific argumentation and the ability to understand and practise valid ways of arguing in a scientific context. They need to be able to recognize not only the strengths, but also the limitations of such arguments (Osborne et al., 2001). Science education, therefore, has an important task in developing young people’s argumentation skills (Driver et al., 2000). The importance of working with teachers to develop their pedagogy in the use of argumentation was made apparent by the results of an observation study of the nature of science lessons in the UK (Newton et al., 1999). The study indicated that opportunities for pupils to develop skills of argumentation through debate, deliberation and discussion occupied less than 2 per cent of total teaching time. While accepting the value of argumentation, the teachers in the study reported that they did not appreciate how to structure and explore arguments in science and therefore lacked the confidence to attempt such practices. The key to addressing these problems is to promote pedagogical strategies, which enable evidence and the justification of beliefs to be explored, and where argumentation and discussion are placed at the core of practice.

Research aims and the development of teachers’ practice Our research has sought to identify the strategies necessary to promote argumentation skills in young people in science lessons, and determine the extent to which implementation of these strategies enhances teachers’ pedagogic practice with argumentation. A first step involved developing a set of materials drawn from a trawl of the literature, and our own ideas, for teachers to use with students. From these we produced a series of generic frameworks which included competing theories, constructing an argument, understanding an argument, interpreting experimental data, and predicting, observing and explaining phenomena (Osborne et al., 2001). Under our guidance, and using these frameworks, teachers developed their own activities relevant to the schemes of work in their schools. Working together, we also developed a lesson format for a socio-scientific activity that was to initiate the teachers’ use of argumentation and which would enable us to evaluate changes in practice occurring over a period of one year.

Systemic teacher development 201

In our analysis of argumentation we chose to focus on the quality of argument. A suitable analytic framework that has provided some insight to this dimension of argumentation is Toulmin’s (1958) model. His model has been used as a basis for characterizing argumentation in science lessons (Jiménex-Aleixandre et al., 2000; Russell, 1983) and is implicit in a coding system (Kuhn et al., 1997; Pontecorvo, 1987) that we have drawn upon. In addition, following Pontecorvo, we have focused on the epistemic and argumentative operations adopted by students, that is, their reasoning functions and strategies. These are the salient cognitive operations, produced by the speaker, which correspond to strategies, which are more or less effective for constructing valid arguments. Features we have concentrated on, therefore, in the analysis of argumentation, include the extent to which students and teachers have made use of data, claims, warrants, backings and qualifiers; and the extent to which they have engaged in claiming, elaborating, reinforcing or opposing the arguments of each other. To support teachers in their use of argumentation we focused on the development of two aspects of teaching: the organization of student activity within a lesson structure; and the questions used by teachers to promote argumentation processes. Organizational features included whole class exposition, small group discussion, role-play and group presentations. The use of appropriate questions to promote argumentation was incorporated into arguing prompts, given orally or as prompt sheets, which included questions such as, ‘What is your reason for that?’ and ‘Can you think of an argument for/against your view?’ Writing frames, essentially a set of prompts to structure student writing, were also used to help students to structure and develop their arguments during small group discussion, oral presentations, and in preparing written reports. Through our leadership in the development of these strategies for support, teachers were able to translate collaborative plans and decisions about the teaching of argumentation into classroom practice (Leigh, 1988). Our role in supporting teachers was informed by previous research on professional development and educational change. Fullan (2001) identifies at least three dimensions at stake in any new programme or policy: (1) the possible use of new or revised materials; (2) the possible use of new teaching approaches; and (3) the possible alterations of beliefs. Our approach in facilitating the development of teachers’ practice in argumentation aimed to address all these components of change, though we were aware that altering fundamental beliefs is difficult to achieve (Simon, 1992).

The sample of teachers and workshop meetings A group of teachers interested in collaborating with us was initially established for some preliminary work in the area. From this group, twelve were selected to take part in the study – our principal criteria being the

202 S. Simon et al.

experience and willingness of the teachers, as the work would involve a degree of risk on their part. The teachers came from urban and suburban schools located in the greater London area and their students were from mixed ethnic groups representative of a range of academic ability. Approximately once a month, the teachers incorporated a series of nine argument-based lessons into their ongoing schemes of work. The first and ninth lessons were devoted to discussion of the socio-scientific issue of whether a zoo should be funded, while the remaining lessons were devoted solely to discussion and argumentation of scientific ideas. Our initial work with teachers led to the choice of students in Year 8, aged 12–13 years, as the most suitable because of the freedom from examination constraints. During the first year, the teachers also attended six half-day workshops, held at King’s College, London, where they were able to discuss and share strategies for teaching argumentation lessons, to produce materials and develop an understanding of our theoretical perspective on argumentation. The workshops included some of those experiences identified by Loucks-Horsley et al. (1998) as effective in professional development programmes, for example, modelling the strategies teachers would use with their students through engagement in small group discussions about controversial issues. We sought to enhance teachers’ theoretical understanding of argumentation through exposing our analytical procedures based on Toulmin’s model. In addition, the work of Joyce and Showers (1988) has shown that change is only possible if teachers have both some theoretical understanding of the curricular aims of any strategy and the opportunity to see the intended practice modelled for them in realistic situations.

Data sources To investigate how the skills of the teacher developed we video- and audio-recorded each teacher at the beginning of years 1 and 2 of the project. The data sources also included oral conversations in classes of Year 8 students who were taught the lesson on zoos. The twelve teachers implemented the same activity a year later with comparable students. Each lesson lasted for about an hour and the main task within the lesson was to present arguments for and against the funding of a new zoo. The underlying goal of the lesson was to facilitate students’ argumentation in the context of a socio-scientific issue. Audiotape recorders were wired on the teachers so as to capture their oral contribution to the lesson as well as their interactions with students during the small group format. The overall design of the lesson included three major sections, though teachers adapted this design, as shown later. At the onset, the teacher distributed a letter, which outlined the task and stimulated either whole class or small group discussion about the pros and cons of zoos. Then the students engaged in ‘arguing’ about whether or not the zoo should be

Systemic teacher development 203

built. Finally, in the last phase of the lesson, the groups made presentations and shared their opinions with the rest of the class. As homework, students were typically asked to write a letter or compose a poster that would communicate their arguments. A semi-structured interview was also conducted with the teachers at the beginning of each year to ascertain their views on argumentation and to explore their reflections on the zoo lesson. These data sought to identify teachers’ perceptions of the salience of teaching argumentation to pupils and their understanding of its significance. Such interviews were also used as a means of identifying any changes that had occurred over the year. Each interview was recorded and transcribed. The interviews included questions on how teachers felt about their zoo lesson and what they viewed as important for student participation in and learning of argumentation. The interviews were a means of determining value congruence (Harland and Kinder, 1997), that is, the extent to which teachers’ personalized versions of the science curriculum that informed their teaching coincided with our messages about teaching argumentation.

Analysis of data Audiotapes were transcribed and analysed to determine the nature of argumentation in the whole class and the small group student discussion formats. In particular, we were interested in comparing the nature and quality of arguments generated in the classroom over the two years to determine what progress and development the teachers had made. To this end we used Toulmin’s (1958) Argument Pattern (TAP) as a framework for coding classroom conversations from the audiotape wired on the teacher. To supplement the TAP analysis we also analysed the zoo lesson structure and discourse to identify key features of teacher talk, in particular that which focused on the aims and organization of argumentation activity, and facilitated the processes of argumentation. Finally, interview data were coded to identify themes and issues, which would help to explain differences between teachers, degrees of change and the main concerns impinging on teachers’ progress.

Toulmin’s argument pattern The following example illustrates our method of coding the transcripts using TAP as a guiding framework. For the statement: Zoos are horrible, I am totally against zoos our focus would be on the substantive claim. In this case, the difficulty lies in the fact that both can be considered to be claims i.e.: ‘Zoos are horrible’, and ‘I am totally against zoos.’

204 S. Simon et al.

The question for the analysis then becomes, ‘Which of these is the substantive claim and which is a subsidiary claim?’ Our general view is that there is inevitably a process of interpretation to be made and that some of that process is reliant on listening to the tape and hearing the force of the various statements. Here our reading is that the emphasis lies on the second part of the statement because the task context demands a reference to a particular position (for or against zoos) and that this is therefore the substantive claim. In choosing to use TAP in this manner, we have developed a good reliability (more than 80 per cent) between the coders.

Lesson structure and features of teacher talk Analysis of the structures of the zoo lesson has enabled us to make comparisons between teachers and across the two years of how argumentation lessons were organized. Lesson structures were determined by viewing video material for each zoo lesson and noting the main lesson phases and time spent in whole class and small group formats. In addition, analysis of teachers’ oral contributions has enabled us to make similar comparisons. Teachers’ questions, or ‘arguing prompts’, and their encouragement of processes such as justification and counter-arguing, are indicators of how they view what is important in argumentation in school science. To analyse teachers’ talk, viewing the video was accompanied by a study of the transcript of the audiotape wired to the teacher. Extracts of teacher talk focusing on the aims of argumentation activity, its organization or facilitating the processes of argument were identified and summarized for each phase of the lesson. For example, talk focusing on a lesson aim was coded as, ‘introduces an additional aim of the task, to produce good arguments’: And we are trying to think this morning about what sorts of things will make a good argument. How are you going to persuade this agency that yes, the zoos should be opened? You need to put forward strong arguments, or if you don’t want it, strong arguments against the zoo. We have thus been able gain insights into teachers’ beliefs (Fullan, 2001) and value congruence (Harland and Kinder, 1997) with respect to argumentation through the analysis of their classroom talk. We have also been able to compare teachers across the two years to see whether and how they have changed.

Interviews Using a grounded approach, an initial coding schema was developed to capture the major themes, with reliability checks undertaken by two members of the research team. Following our analyses of TAP and teacher

Systemic teacher development 205

talk, these coded themes were examined and cross-referenced to the data from the lessons. The interview comments relevant to teachers’ actions and talk about argumentation included the ways in which they conceptualized the teaching of argumentation, the decisions they made about teaching strategies and their reflections on students’ progress and performance.

Results In this section, a broad summary of the results of all these strands of analysis, the TAP profiles, the lesson structure and classroom talk, and the interviews are provided and discussed. TAP profiles Transcript data, analysed using TAP, on two teachers for the two years, are summarized in Figures 11.1 and 11.2. The x-axis indicates the features of TAP that were used in different combinations. For example, CD indicates those instances where a claim was coupled with data. CDWB indicates that there was a claim, data, warrant and backing as part of one argument presented. The y-axis illustrates the frequency of instances that such permutations of TAP occurred within the transcript. In other words, we counted the number of times each instance of TAP occurred in the data across both years for each teacher. The figures seem to suggest several trends. First, there is argumentation discourse in the classroom across both years. In the figures we see specific examples of the extent to which each teacher’s class is involved in the construction of each aspect of TAP. In other words, we can trace the nature of different permutations of TAP in each teacher’s implementation of the lesson. Second, each teacher carries out/uses argumentation in the same way across the two years. Hence, the trends in their use of the components of TAP are similar across two years. Third, the charts have a consistent pattern for each teacher but are different from each other. This would suggest that there is no common pattern and that the use of argumentation is teacher-dependent, i.e. there are no universals. The figures also illustrate the nature of progression of each teacher across two years. Going from left to right on the x-axis, there is an increasing complexity in the use of TAP, i.e. inclusion of more warrants, backings, rebuttals. Hence, the right side of the charts represent arguments of greater complexity. Thus, if there was a shift, for example, in the number of arguments of the form CD (claim-data) to more CDW (claim-datawarrant) ones, then this change was considered to be an improvement in the nature of the arguments constructed in the class. Across all twelve teachers, significant improvements were noted for eight teachers in the sample (six at p < 0.01, two at p < 0.05).

206 S. Simon et al. 35 Frequency of instances

30 25 20

Year 1

15

Year 2

10 5 0 CD

CW

CDW

CDR

CDWB

CDWR

Feature of TAP

Figure 11.1 Sarah: Year 1 vs year 2 – number of instances of each type of argument in the zoo lessons. Note C – Claim; D – data; W – warrant; R – rebuttal; B – backing. 35 Frequency of instances

30 25 20

Year 1

15

Year 2

10 5 0 CD

CDW

CDR

CWR

CDWB

CDWR

Feature of TAP

Figure 11.2 Matthew: Year 1 vs year 2 – number of instances of each type of argument in the zoo lessons. Note C – Claim; D – data; W – warrant; R – rebuttal; B – backing.

Analysis of teachers’ classroom talk and interview data reveals some possible explanations for the differences between their argument profiles, and the variation in the shift to the right from one year to the next. To illustrate this analysis in detail, we have chosen to report on the findings of two teachers only. We have selected Sarah and Matthew, shown in Figures 11.1 and 11.2, to provide a contrast in terms of change; Sarah’s profile shows a marked shift to the right whereas Matthew’s shows very little change from one year to the next.

Year 1 Key features of teacher talk

Task aim: to think and produce own ideas. Elicits students’ ideas for and against zoos. Rephrases and collates ideas on white-board in two columns. Introduces the idea of ‘argument’.

Encourages students to extend their ideas. Begins to ask for evidence as ideas emerge. Introduces idea of counter-arguments to one group.

Sets up group task to rank arguments in order of importance and to justify. Focuses on ownership, and emphasizes their ideas. Models what she means by justification and counter-argument. Outlines her role in promoting argument in small groups.

Asks questions to promote justification and use of evidence.

Encourages students to justify and consider quality of arguments while they continue to rank them.

Questions small groups to promote justification. Explains her role – to ask ‘why’.

Encourages listening and counter-arguing. Uses reporting back to demonstrate justification process to the class. Encourages counter-arguments. Emphasizes backing up arguments. Asks for individual report for homework.

Phase

Introduction to task. Zoo letter distributed and read.

Group task.

Whole class intervention.

Group task.

Whole class intervention.

Group task.

Whole class plenary and homework task.

Table 11.1 Sarah’s zoo lessons, years 1 and 2

9

15.5

2

11.5

2.5

13

6.5

Time mins

Acknowledges that task was challenging, and encourages students to identify what makes a strong argument. Highlights counter-arguments. Asks for individual report for homework.

Poses questions as though in an opposing role.

Sets up testing out arguments with opposing roles. Encourages students to evaluate whether they anticipated opposing arguments.

Encourages students to adopt roles and consider opposing arguments.

Whole class reporting back, collated on board. Asks for strong arguments. Reiterates that these may not be personal beliefs. Focuses on good argument, opposition, and counter-argument. Assigns roles to pairs, asks students to make a decision appropriate to role and construct arguments. Encourages anticipation of opposing arguments.

Encourages justification with evidence, also evaluation of quality of argument. Emphasizes arguments rather than personal ideas. Introduces idea of opposing argument to one group.

Task aim: to produce good, strong arguments. Elicits some ideas about what makes a good argument. Encourages talk within groups. Emphasizes idea of ‘backing up’ with evidence.

Year 2 Key features of teacher talk

6.5

3.5

2

8.5

13.5

10

8

Time mins

Provides examples of people who support zoos and who are against zoos. Focuses on purpose of task as explaining arguments, and points out the difference between this task and other school science, which focuses on right answers. Gives ultimate goal as report written for homework. Repeats procedures to each group. Focuses on getting a list of ideas rather than arguing points. Suggests some ideas of issues to think about, gives examples. Asks for arguments for and against, focuses on getting all the arguments listed. Rephrases and elaborates students’ answers, adding detail. Pursues meaning, focuses on accuracy of statements, makes evaluations. Adds examples of issues on TV.

Introduction to task. Zoo letter distributed and read. Group brainstorm set up.

Encourages students to use sheets as a source of evidence to add to list. Uses examples to illustrate use of evidence. Reinforces need to find reasons and evidence. Emphasizes need to produce reasons when reporting back. Focuses on nature of reasons and evidence and accuracy of statements. Elaborates students’ reasons, prevents students’ attempts to counter-argue. Outlines procedure for homework report, focuses on need to use arguments to express a view.

Group task.

Summary and homework task.

Reporting back by students.

Reads argument prompt sheet. Focuses on deciding which argument is most important and emphasizes providing evidence. Reiterates ultimate goal – to produce a report for homework.

Whole class intervention.

Whole class feedback of ideas. Collated on board by two students.

Group brainstorm.

Year 1 Key features of teacher talk

Phase

Table 11.2 Matthew’s zoo lessons, years 1 and 2

11

16.5

1.5

13.5

9

6.5

Time mins Gives general aim of argument lessons, to be able to argue in science and produce evidence to justify arguments. Draws distinction between other school science and zoo task, which has no right or wrong answers. Draws distinction between arguments at home and arguments in science. Repeats procedures to each group. Focuses on getting a list of ideas to be collated on the board. Suggests some more issues to think about, gives examples. Asks for arguments for and against, focuses on getting all the arguments listed. Rephrases and elaborates students’ answers, adding detail and examples. Pursues meaning, focuses on accuracy of statements, makes evaluations. Repeats time limits to hurry feedback. Focuses on relative importance of arguments, illustrates with own experience. Focuses on justification of arguments using evidence, questions student to show an example. Reads argument prompt sheet. Refers to TV examples of evidence. Encourages students to add to list of important arguments from board. Questions each group to elicit examples of evidence. Asks students to read out their important arguments. Asks some students to explain reasons for importance and provide evidence. Focuses on nature of reasons and evidence and accuracy of statements. Criticizes arguments where evidence does not fit. Explains homework, to produce a report drawing conclusions. Uses example from a group to illustrate use of evidence. Reiterates need to explain good arguments.

Year 2 Key features of teacher talk

12.5

14

5

11

12

8.5

Time mins

Systemic teacher development 209

Comparing two cases: Sarah and Matthew Tables 11.1 and 11.2 show the main lesson phases, times and key features of teacher talk in each of the four lessons (two for Sarah and two for Matthew). The sentences in the tables summarize the teacher talk relating to argumentation at each point in the lessons. The sentences shown in italic highlight aspects of teacher talk which are different across the two years. Looking across the lesson structures of both teachers, it can be seen that the zoo activity was set up in a similar way in terms of the pattern of phases of whole class intervention and small group task. In year 1, both teachers focused on getting ideas for and against zoos, followed by small group discussion of the importance of different arguments. Each teacher strongly encouraged students to justify their arguments using evidence in both years 1 and 2 and used the strategies of arguing prompts and writing frames within their lessons. These features of their practice show they shared a good basic understanding of teaching argumentation at the outset. A critical difference between the teachers lay in their emphasis on counter-argument. In year 1 Sarah tentatively introduced this process in the first group task and then encouraged it more strongly in the whole class plenary. As Table 11.1 shows, she placed even more emphasis on this process in year 2 by highlighting opposition and counter-argument throughout the lesson. She asked questions such as, “Can anyone think of anything that somebody might say to oppose that?” Matthew, however, entirely omitted opposition and counter-argument from his teaching in both years. He even discouraged students from disagreeing, illustrated during one reporting back session when a student said, “I want to disagree with what Emma said,” and Matthew replied, “No, no, you are meant to put forward an argument.” Matthew focused strongly on encouraging students to produce a wide range of arguments, and to justify their arguments with reference to what he termed ‘scientific evidence’. He did not encourage students to rebut claims or produce further evidence in the face of opposition. This emphasis in his practice suggests a possible explanation for the difference between his TAP profile and Sarah’s. Matthew’s profile, shown in Figure 11.2, shows that the argumentation in his lessons included very few rebuttals and backings. One would expect more rebuttals in discourse where there are episodes of opposition and counter-argument, as disagreement can be established through rebuttal of an opponent’s data. Because the students were neither encouraged nor allowed to counter-argue, it is not surprising that there are few cases of rebuttal. In addition, opposition generates the need to defend a claim, forcing opponents either to use evidence, or more of it, or to elaborate their backings and warrants. Thus, with few opportunities for counter-arguing, the argumentation in Matthew’s classroom was likely to include few rebuttals and backings.

210 S. Simon et al.

Sarah’s change Sarah’s practice within the zoo lessons demonstrated a number of changes across the two years. First, in comparing how she introduced the zoo task, distinct shifts in emphasis can be seen from year 1 to year 2. In year 1 Sarah gave the main aim as, ‘thinking of ideas’, only introducing the notion of justification and use of evidence later during the group task. In year 2 she immediately focused on the process of producing a good ‘strong’ argument with evidence. In communicating her aims in year 1, Sarah told the students that the main aim of the task was to produce their own ideas, whereas in year 2 she suggested that other arguments could be used, not necessarily students’ personal views, encouraging the idea that students should consider alternative arguments. Thus in year 2 the goals of the task were different from the outset, having changed from making single, personal, claims either for or against zoos, to considering strong, depersonalized, arguments, both for and against zoos. Sarah’s whole class teaching where she asked for students’ ideas illustrates this shift in emphasis. In year 1 she simply elicited students’ ideas for and against zoos, in year 2 she elicited ideas about what make a good argument: Sarah:

Student: Sarah: Student: Sarah: Student: Sarah:

Student: Sarah:

Student: Sarah:

So what sorts of things do you think you need to do to make a good argument? How are you going to make your argument strong? By backing them up. By backing them up, what do you mean by that, Emma? How can, what do you mean by backing them up? You say how and why. Alan, I just heard a word from you, what did you say? Evidence. Evidence. Giving evidence to support, what, your ideas? Your views? Evidence and ideas to back it. Should it just be opinions and feelings or should it be . . .? Facts. . . . facts, possibly. What would probably a weak argument be? Any ideas? What might make an argument not a very good one? Would it contain evidence and backing like Emma and Alan said? (Murmurs of disagreement) No. It’s . . . Silly stray comments. Maybe it’s just the comments, without actually explaining fully what you are trying to say?

A second critical change occurred in year 2 during the whole class intervention following the first group task (see Table 11.1). In this intervention, Sarah encouraged students to focus on good argument, opposition and

Systemic teacher development 211

counter-argument. But she only introduced these ideas to the whole class in a much more tentative manner in year 1, later in the plenary. Thus there was a shift in how Sarah was foregrounding the processes of opposition and counter-argument, with much more emphasis on these processes earlier in the year 2 lesson. A third change in Sarah’s practice occurred in the way she set up the second group task in year 2. She had learnt about the use of role-play from another teacher in one of our training workshops, and she was willing to try this strategy to encourage opposition. In setting up the role-play, where students were to be different members of the community, she tried to encourage them to anticipate opposing arguments: First thing you need to do in your pair is decide whether that person will agree with the opening of the zoo or be against the zoo. Then what you need to do is to think of what that person’s main argument will be and what the evidence they will have to support their idea. You then need to give another argument they might have and the justification they might have for that. And, finally, and this is quite important, you need to think what someone opposing the argument might say. What their argument would be – the person that’s going to disagree with you. What might their argument be? And how would you persuade them you were right? That’s very important, that last bit. After students had established their roles, Sarah encouraged them to evaluate whether they anticipated opposing arguments. In the process of doing so, she asked them to consider whether they had ‘enough backing’ for their claims, demonstrating her developing understanding of argumentation. The students found this phase of the lesson quite challenging, and the lesson structure shows that only 3.5 minutes was allowed for this group task. At the end, Sarah attempted to focus on the argumentation process in the whole class plenary by highlighting the students’ counterarguments. Analysis of Sarah’s interview provides further insights into her changing practice. Though she was aware at the beginning of the project of the value of what she termed ‘saying the opposite’, she developed this idea much more during the course of the year. In terms of her own professional development, Sarah thought that teaching argumentation had made her ‘a lot more conscious’ about what she was saying and what she was trying to achieve in her teaching. She also valued argumentation for the way it provided cognitive challenge for the students, particularly through role-play where they were asked to adopt an alternative perspective. Her attempt at role-play in year 2 shows she was willing to take risks and try new approaches, a development recognized as indicative of teacher change (Loucks-Horsely et al., 1998).

212 S. Simon et al.

Matthew’s change Matthew’s two zoo lessons show more similarity in terms of structure and emphasis than do Sarah’s and this is reflected in his TAP profiles, which show little change from one year to the next (see Figure 11.2). However, there are some subtle differences that indicate how Matthew has changed, which demonstrate some progress in his teaching of argumentation (see Table 11.2). First, when introducing the zoo task in year 2, he highlighted a general aim of all the argumentation lessons by spending time telling students what the series of lessons was about and what they should be able to achieve. In doing so he showed more awareness of students’ developing argumentation skills in year 2. Second, and more critical, was a shift from telling students about evidence, towards a more questioning role to enable students to describe their own evidence in year 2. In the whole class intervention following the first feedback session in year 2, Matthew questioned a student to exemplify what he meant by using evidence: Now, what I want us to do, in the groups again, is to try and take what we’ve been doing, but take it a little bit further. So I want you to think which of these arguments do you think are strong arguments? Important arguments? And which are less important? And then also, I want you to think about how you could justify your argument. How could you justify the idea, Lola, that zoos are useful for education? How could you justify it? What’s the evidence that that’s the case? Do you know what I mean by evidence? So what do you think would be the evidence that zoos are a good place for education? Matthew asked similar questions in the following phase of the lesson that included a group task (see Table 11.2). In the final reporting back, he evoked fuller answers from students by asking them to explain reasons for their choice of important arguments and to provide examples of evidence. Matthew’s strong focus on the importance of using scientific evidence surfaced in his first interview as he emphasized the value of zoo arguments that referred to issues such as captive breeding and the spread of disease in captivity. His focus on the nature of evidence also emerged as he talked about how he would focus on ‘how good the evidence was’ when assessing students’ performance in constructing arguments. After one year, his evaluation of his own progress was also in terms of how he attached more importance to the use of evidence. For example, when talking about his preparation, he said he looked for tasks which ‘require more reasoning and evidence’, adding, “I think I appreciate the importance of trying to ensure that students see a difference between a statement and a reason for that.”

Systemic teacher development 213

Discussion The occurrence of more argumentation discourse in the classroom, as shown in the TAP profiles, provides an indication that the teachers in our sample were more advanced in their use of argumentation than those teachers in the earlier study undertaken by Driver et al. (2000). A critical factor in this difference was the development and implementation of materials, in the form of activities to stimulate students’ discussion and argumentation, which teachers were able to use from the outset. Formulating these materials and their rationale was vitally dependent on a clearly articulated vision provided by ourselves, the researchers. Curriculum materials play a key role in initiating and sustaining change because they are, ‘concrete, tangible vehicles for embodying the essential ideas of a reform’ (Powell and Anderson, 2002, p. 112). Working collaboratively with teachers has resulted in the production of materials that they feel empowered to use and own. Supporting professional development in the use of argumentation in school science will always initially require the production of materials that show a variety of models of how to implement argumentation activities in practice. It is difficult to see how such material can be produced other than centrally and this work must be a task for the leaders of innovative practice. Nevertheless, it is only a necessary condition and not, of itself, sufficient. For though the curriculum materials have a role to play in helping to initiate and sustain change, they do not by themselves generate changes in the classroom (Powell and Anderson, 2002). In addition, the existing practice and underlying beliefs of teachers influence the way in which the curriculum materials are put into action (Fullan, 2001). From the TAP profiles generated in this research we have learned that teachers are different but consistent in their practice, with changes from one year to the next being much smaller (even for the most innovative teacher) than differences between teachers. The variations between teachers and the consistent pattern of TAP for each teacher over the two years demonstrate the uniqueness of pedagogy. In addition, the variations in the degree of change demonstrated by each teacher show that progression in learning is variable. The message here, that teachers interpret new materials and ideas differently and so there are no homogeneous outcomes, reinforces the work of previous studies of in-service training (Harland and Kinder, 1997). If professional development is to impact on practice, such differences need to be recognized and taken into account both in the aims and the outcomes of any innovations. Our analysis of classroom talk has provided us with insights into the nature of teacher learning with respect to argumentation in school science. The results indicate that teachers’ initial approach to implementing argumentation was not fundamentally altered, but, rather, refined or extended

214 S. Simon et al.

over the year. From the outset, Matthew focused on the use of evidence and showed some progress in this aspect of his teaching, though he ignored the importance of counter-argument and therefore made no gains in terms of our measure of the quality of argument. Sarah sensed the value of counter-arguing in her first attempt at argumentation activity and, encouraged by the focus we placed on the use of opposition, strengthened this aspect of her teaching. Sarah’s more extensive knowledge and understanding of the nature and purpose of the innovation make her more receptive to this new approach to teaching science and ownership of its aims and intentions. A finding that reinforces the idea that teachers’ basic capacity for change may be dependent on their existing knowledge and thinking. The message for systemic professional development is that teachers need to have opportunities for interacting with others to challenge and stimulate their own thinking. Leithwood et al. (1999) suggest that the work of teachers is accomplished through ‘practical thinking’, a type of thinking embedded in activity, and that this thinking can be enhanced through ‘participation with others’ who have more expertise – whether they are teachers or curriculum developers. Workshop sessions and school coaching visits can provide such opportunities. However, though such opportunities are an important condition for teacher professional development, they are not sufficient. To initiate change, teachers need stimulus and guidance from the ideas and insights of those who are able to provide significant theoretical input. They also need coaching and mentoring (Joyce and Showers, 1988) in the form of observation and analysis of their teaching by those who can help them to reflect on the relationship between theory and practice. The research reported here is the first phase of our work on developing teachers’ practice in argumentation, and we are now developing in-service training materials for a wider group of teachers. Our work has shown that teachers like Matthew, who appeared to change very little, chose to use comfortable, less risky strategies such as the use of well-structured writing frames. Teachers who were more willing to take risks, like Sarah, chose more ambitious strategies, such as role-play, once they became aware that such strategies could work. The ways in which different teachers in the study adopted different activities and teaching approaches suggest that teachers will only adopt approaches they feel able to manage. Hence, an important message for future work is the need to strike a balance between encouraging teachers to take the risks needed for development, and providing them with sufficiently supportive strategies to try something innovative. This is an essential pre-cursor if such initiatives are not to fall on stony ground – by that we mean that the initiative is seen as too risky, unrealistic or unworkable. Establishing the capabilities and

Systemic teacher development 215

inclinations of teachers towards such risks requires teacher professional development courses to take into account teachers’ existing knowledge (Fullan, 2001) and conceptualization of science teaching. Teachers will only take risks, however, if they are offered a clear vision of why this approach is important, how it might be implemented effectively, and how it builds on their existing skills. Articulating this vision is the role of leadership. Finally, we recognize that an aspect of teacher change not considered in our account of this work with argumentation is that of the culture within which individual teachers are working (Hargreaves, 1997), in particular the ethos of the school and the support for change that exists within teachers’ working environments. Research into the level of use of the Cognitive Acceleration in Science Education project (CASE) (Dillon et al., 1996) has shown that factors such as sympathetic management and good communication within departments are important for a high level of implementation. While our work has focused on developing the practice of isolated teachers, we recognize that this is an issue to be addressed in any larger-scale systemic teacher development. The CASE project (Adey et al., 2001), for example, has taken into account the way in which change is supported within the school. As we move into a phase of systemic leadership in the use of argumentation in school science, our work with teachers will, therefore, need to consider the ways in which they will be supported within their schools. Systemic teacher development arising from this and other King’s College, London projects can also be sustained through incorporating the outcomes of initiatives into initial teacher education, master’s teaching and national in-service training programmes (Department for Education and Skills, 2002). In London, both at King’s College and the Institute of Education, we are creating a widening network of teachers whose basic capacity to deal with change (Leithwood et al., 1999) is being extended and supported through these initiatives such as the one reported in this chapter. Meeting the challenge of change and sustaining new initiatives does require leadership and vision born of scholarship and reflection but it also requires the voice and contribution of the teacher – this is the vital component that makes any innovation more than a collection of resources and something which belongs to them. Our view, then, is that innovative practice can only be sustained by bringing teachers in from the periphery to the centre to share and own the vision that leaders must offer.

Acknowledgements We wish to acknowledge the support of the UK Economic and Social Research Council for this work (Grant No. R000 23 7915).

216 S. Simon et al.

References Adey, P. S., Shayer, M. and Yates, C. (2001) Thinking Science. 3rd edn. London: Nelson Thornes. Black, P., Harrison, C., Lee, C., Marshall, B. and Wiliam, D. (2002) Working Inside the Black Box. London: King’s College, London. Department for Education and Skills (DfES) (2002) Key Stage 3 National Strategy: Framework for Teaching Science: Years 7, 8, and 9. London: Department for Education and Skills Publications. Dillon, J., Adey, P. and Simon, S. (1996) Factors affecting the success of in-service training: a ‘CASE’ study. In W. Beasley (ed.), Chemistry: Expanding the Boundaries: Proceedings of the 14th International Conference on Chemical Education, Brisbane, Australia: University of Queensland. Donnelly, J., Buchan, A., Jenkins, E., Laws, P. and Welford, G. (1996) Investigations by Order: Policy, Curriculum and Science Teachers’ Work under the Education Reform Act. Nafferton: Studies in Science Education. Driver, R., Newton, P. and Osborne, J. (2000) Establishing the norms of scientific argumentation in classrooms. Science Education, 84(3), 287–312. Fullan, M. (1991) The New Meaning of Educational Change. 2nd edn. London: Cassell. Fullan, M. (2001) The New Meaning of Educational Change. 3rd edn. London: RoutledgeFalmer. Hargreaves, A. (1997) Cultures of teaching and educational change. In M. Fullan (ed.), The Challenge of School Change. Arlington Heights, IL: Skylight Professional Development, pp. 57–84. Harland, J. and Kinder, K (1997) Teachers’ continuing professional development: framing a model of outcomes. British Journal of In-Service Education, 23(1), 71–84. Jiménex-Aleixandre, M. P., Rodríguez, A. B. and Duschl, R. (2000) ‘Doing the lesson’ or ‘Doing science’: Argument in high school genetics. Science Education, 84(6), 757–792. Joyce, B. and Showers, B. (1988) Student Achievement through Staff Development. White Plains, NY: Longman. Kuhn, D., Shaw, V. and Felton, M. (1997) Effects of dyadic interaction on reasoning. Cognition and Instruction, 15(3), 287–315. Leigh, A. (1988) Effective Change: Twenty Ways to Make it Happen. London: Institute of Personnel Management. Leithwood, K., Jantzi, D. and Steinbach, R. (1999) Changing Leadership for Changing Times. Buckingham: Open University Press. Loucks-Horsley, S., Hewson, P., Love, N. and Stiles, K. E. (1998) Designing Professional Development for Teachers of Science and Mathematics. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press. Millar, R. and Osborne, J. F. (eds) (1998) Beyond 2000: Science Education for the Future. London: King’s College, London. Newton, P., Driver, R. and Osborne, J. (1999) The place of argumentation in the pedagogy of school science. International Journal of Science Education, 21(5), 553–576. Ogborn, J. (2002) Ownership and transformation: Teachers using curriculum innovation. Physics Education, 37(2), 142–146.

Systemic teacher development 217 Osborne, J., Erduran, S., Simon, S. and Monk, M. (2001) Enhancing the quality of argument in school science. School Science Review, 82(301), 63–70. Pontecorvo, C. (1987) Discussing and reasoning: the role of argument in knowledge construction. In E. De Corte, H. Lodewïjks, R. Parmentier and P. Span (eds), Learning and Instruction: European Research in an International Context. Oxford: Pergamon Press, pp. 239–250. Powell, J. C. and Anderson, R. D. (2002) Changing teachers’ practice: curriculum materials and science education reform in the USA. Studies in Science Education, 37, 107–136. Russell, T. L. (1983) Analysing arguments in science classroom discourse: can teachers’ questions distort scientific authority? Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 20(1), 27–45. Secondary Science Curriculum Review (1987) Better Science: How to Plan and Manage the Curriculum. London: Heinemann Educational Books/Association for Science Education. Simon, S. A. (1992) Curriculum and assessment innovation in science. Research in Science Education, 22, 358–366. Toulmin, S. (1958) The Uses of Argument. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Waring, M. (1979) Social Pressures and Curriculum Innovation. London: Methuen.

Chapter 12

Building and sustaining communities of practice beyond the fold Nurturing agency and action Erminia Pedretti, Larry Bencze, Derek Hodson, Isha DeCoito and Maurice Di Giuseppe

Introduction In the context of highly centralized and rapid science curriculum reform in Ontario, Canada (Ministry of Education and Training, 1998; 1999), personnel within a particular school district approached educators from a local university to initiate and collaborate in systemic professional growth. The new curriculum with its heavy content and assessment demands left many teachers (especially elementary teachers), feeling anxious, ill equipped and disempowered. Consequently, through a partnership between Peel District School Board and the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education of the University of Toronto (OISE/UT), the Science and Technology through Action Research project (STAR) was established. Our intention was to create and sustain a supportive, yet critical, environment in which groups of teachers could collaborate through action research, on theoretical and practical issues related to the design and implementation of effective science (and technology) learning experiences. It was in this context that STAR communities of practice were developed. In this chapter, we describe this highly successful three-year, large-scale action research project. The first half of the chapter illustrates how the STAR project developed into a mature learning system as defined by Wenger (2000): a learning system marked by communities of practice, boundary processes among these communities, and identities shaped by participation in these systems. Our work surrounding the action research project suggests that, through infrastructure that nurtured agency and action, sustainable communities of practice were created that enabled teachers to develop educationally sound and contextually determined perspectives and practices. The latter half of the chapter examines the many forms of leadership that enabled the community to grow and sustain itself beyond the life of the project. Specifically, we consider how leadership was

Nurturing agency and action 219

nurtured and distributed among STAR participants. Before examining STAR communities in more detail, we describe our ideological and philosophical positions about teacher development, and provide context for the ensuing project.

Reclaiming teaching through action research Top-down directives can create significant dilemmas for jurisdictions charged with the responsibility for implementing reforms. Historically, attempts to improve education have failed when curricula have been devised by centrally located experts and disseminated to schools via directives, policy documents and policy statements (Fullan, 1992, 1993; Olson, 1990). Typically, with these top-down approaches, little account is taken of teachers’ previous experience, practical professional knowledge (Elbaz, 1983), personal theories and values, and no acknowledgement is made of the uniqueness of each educational environment. More so, there is seemingly little appreciation that teaching is a complex, fluid and uncertain enterprise. Paradoxically, teachers feel simultaneously dissociated from curriculum directives and oppressed by them (Johnston and Proudfoot, 1994). Teacher-only forms of curriculum development are an alternative to top-down directives. However, history also suggests that teacher-only forms of curriculum development are unlikely to lead to significant changes. First, they take too long. Second, because they are grounded so extensively in the particular, teacher-only curriculum development is, essentially, a conservative strategy for change – more likely to yield piecemeal or incremental change than major reform. To appreciate the wider dimensions of curriculum issues, teachers need to go beyond their own experience. They need to learn from the experiences of other teachers, in other locations, and to make effective use of educational theory and research-based knowledge – resources that are often unavailable to teachers working alone. Therefore, a pragmatic alternative form of educational renewal would be to engage diverse groups of stakeholders in collaborative curriculum decision making – that is, at the intersection of Carr and Kemmis’ (1986) practical and emancipatory categories of action research. While those not having direct connections with authentic school teaching and learning (e.g. university-based researchers) may be involved in deliberations (thus giving the process a practical character), ultimate decisions about perspectives and practices would remain with teachers (thus giving the process an emancipatory character). This approach could be described as having a ‘practical-emancipatory’ orientation (Rearick and Feldman, 1999), serving personal and professional purposes. It is our belief that this kind of collaborative action research, facilitated by university-based curriculum

220 E. Pedretti et al.

specialists, is a sound form of curriculum and professional development. Accordingly, and in response to mandated science and technology curriculum reform, STAR was established in the spirit of practical-emancipatory action research.

STAR context: Infrastructure and research From 1999 until 2002, the Science and Technology Action Research (STAR) project engaged sixty-five teachers from seven elementary schools and ten teachers from two secondary schools, in collaborative curriculum and professional development. A key feature of the project was its ongoing cycling between local and global curriculum and professional development. Small groups of teachers focused on particular, contextualized problems and goals of their schools while, on a monthly basis, exchanged ideas, perspectives and strategies with other groups of teachers and school board and university personnel at a central location. A team consisting of teachers, researchers (OISE/UT faculty members and graduate students) and school board personnel facilitated the monthly group meetings and some in-school action research meetings. Facilitation practices were drawn, primarily, from Bencze and Hodson (1998), Elliott (1992), Kosimidou and Usher (1991), Pedretti (1996) and Pedretti and Hodson (1995). Our overt goal was to merge the roles of researcher and teacher, with teachers acting as researchers and developers of their own and others’ practice. Subsequently, teachers may then act as facilitators for other curriculum and professional development efforts, including further cycles of school-based action research. Overall goals of this collaborative effort included: 1 2 3

understanding the nature of community and professional alliances via this university/school board collaboration; understanding the nature of collaborative action research, particularly in the context of elementary and secondary science education; establishing habits of reflective practice, professional development and collaborative professional growth with teachers.

To achieve these goals, a flexible infrastructure was established that would stimulate critical, reflective practice among teachers while, at the same time, empowering them to make decisions appropriate to their particular teaching and learning circumstances. Elements of the basic STAR infrastructure included the following: •

Regular STAR facilitation committee meetings Prior to monthly fullday STAR gatherings, the STAR facilitation committee (OISE/UT faculty – Erminia, Larry and Derek, graduate students and research

Nurturing agency and action 221

•

•

assistants – Isha and Maurice, Board facilitators – Lisa and Chuck, and, on occasion, school administrators) met at OISE/UT for about three hours. At these meetings, decisions were made regarding: (i) activities in which the seventy-five teachers would participate while at monthly STAR gatherings; and (ii) educational research aspects of the project. While the facilitation committee had some initial plans for the nature of the collaborative action research, much of the detail was determined by the teachers (in accordance with their particular interests and backgrounds) and by the facilitation team’s reactions to ongoing events and perspectives. Monthly STAR gatherings Teachers and facilitators/researchers met monthly (October through June) at the district office for one-day sessions that involved collaborative action research activities and data collection. Facilitator roles included: acting as catalyst or change agent facilitator of action research; group recorder; source of personal support; and source of second-order inquiry (e.g. the role of university–school partnerships). School-based action research Members of STAR working in the same schools often collaborated on ongoing projects, as determined by them. Research assistants, meanwhile, conducted case study research with participants in a few individual schools to supplement data collected from teachers during monthly STAR meetings.

Studying STAR As STAR progressed, we gathered research data related to the three overall goals of the project. Given our naturalistic perspectives on knowledge building (e.g. Lincoln and Guba, 1985), we worked within qualitative ethnographic traditions of research (Hammersley and Atkinson, 1990) – enabling research methods and conclusions to emerge as the project evolved. Over a three-year period, we collected data using a variety of approaches: audiotapes of large group and small group meetings; videotapes; copious field notes; participant observations; semi-structured interviews with individuals and groups of teachers (both formal and informal); classroom observations; journals; questionnaires/surveys; and, documentary materials (i.e. samples of students’ and teachers’ work, curriculum materials generated from groups). Teachers’ voices and reflections provided the most valuable data for the project. Common to our methods was the effort to generate and analyze data in a way that reflected the complexity of the various situations and enabled participants to feel a sense of personal responsibility and ownership.

222 E. Pedretti et al.

STAR: A constellation of communities of practice A community of practice is a group of people who share discourse, practices, tools, rules, beliefs, identities, tacit knowledge, and domains of interest through their engagement in common, and often clearly defined and goal-oriented activities, over an extended period of time (Lave and Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1998, 2000). In analyzing our data, especially in the third year, it became increasingly apparent that the STAR project had developed to the point of comprising several interacting communities of practice (e.g. teachers within and across schools, administrators, researchers and facilitators) within a larger social learning system. Together, these different action research groups or constellations constituted the STAR community that gathered monthly to talk, share and learn from one another. Wenger’s work has helped us to analyze STAR data for the presence of elements of communities of practice and social learning systems, thus demonstrating the ‘health’ and likelihood of continuance of practices such as critical reflection, situated teaching and learning, and collaboration. Wenger (2000) describes three constitutive elements that are key to any social learning system: (1) communities of practice; (2) boundary processes among these communities; and (3) identities as shaped by participation in these systems. These elements are deeply interconnected and mutually interdependent. In the following sections, evidence from the STAR project is used to support the claim that STAR developed as a mature social learning system and, as such, represented an excellent opportunity for teachers to co-construct knowledge in contextually meaningful and long-lasting ways (Bell and Gilbert, 1996; Lave and Wenger, 1991; Wells, 1994; Wenger, 1998; 2000).

Creating community According to Wenger (2000), communities of practice define a group of people in a number of ways – there is a strong sense of joint enterprise, common vision, mutual engagement and a repertoire of shared resources. Joint enterprise binds members of collaborative teams, while a collectively developed vision of what they are about allows members to contribute to that community, and to be accountable to one another. What is particularly striking across interviews, surveys, and discussion group data from STAR, are references to a shared vision and collaboration: The value of being able to get together on a regular basis to discuss, to share ideas . . . something that is overlooked within your own individual school . . . collaboration was invaluable as far as growth for the project. (Teacher, group discussion)

Nurturing agency and action 223

It’s sharing, it’s dialogue, teamwork, inspirational speakers, reaffirmation. (Teacher, survey) Moreover, inherent to this joint enterprise – perhaps unsurprisingly for an action research project – was the spirit of inquiry that was critical to building and sustaining that community: The spirit and positive energy of working in a large team from the school have been very exciting. I would not have enjoyed or been as inspired on my own. It has been great to have all grade levels involved. (Teacher, interview) At my first meeting with STAR three years ago we started talking about research questions and I think it took us four months to even get a question nailed down to work on, and I think we’ve come a long way as a group. (Teacher, group discussion) Through mutual engagement, participants established norms and relationships that reflected complex interactions and negotiations embedded in a context of mutual trust. Trust appears to be founded on the basis of knowing what to expect from others in a given situation (Douglas, 1991) – that is, some sense of security, cohesion and support. Participants must trust each other, not just personally, but also in their ability to contribute to the enterprise of the community, so they feel comfortable in addressing real problems together and speaking truthfully. The deep sense of community generated by mutual engagement in STAR is clearly evident. Wenger (2000, p. 230) refers to this mutuality as ‘depth of social capital,’ a reflection of how well and how comfortable people feel with one another. Do they interact productively? Who do they call for help or advice? Two teachers shared their thoughts with the larger group: Overall, relationships have been developed as a result of being here . . . I feel now that there are several people I can go to within the board, you know if I’m feeling low I can go and say this is what’s happening, what can I do? And where can I go, and am I crazy, or is this right . . . that’s invaluable. (Teacher, large group discussion) We’ve had the time to get to know each other better as teachers and appreciate each other’s practices. (Teacher, small group discussion)

224 E. Pedretti et al.

Communities of practice also produce a shared repertoire of communal resources such as language, routines, artifacts, tools and stories. In STAR, this repertoire involved learning more about science and technology through shared expertise, practice and inquiry. Indeed, shared practice was the key unifying characteristic of these communities, as teachers collaborated on curriculum development and assessment projects. Some of the topics and issues addressed by the action research teachers included science–technology–society–environment connections; performance-based assessment; mind mapping and science concepts; gender issues in science; multiple intelligence and science assessment; and project-based learning in science classrooms. Through STAR, teachers were provided with opportunities and freedom to reflect deeply on their current practices in science and technology education: Our team planning – we plan, design and teach the grade eight curriculum based on ideas and philosophies we agree on at STAR meetings. We have developed an innovative approach to teaching that is showing exciting results in terms of our students’ abilities to ask their own questions, and think critically. (Teacher survey) Although shared repertoire was identified as an important feature of our work together, the long-term nature of STAR was pivotal to the development of that shared repertoire. The long-term nature of the project was continually emphasized and highlighted as a strength of STAR: You know if you go to a one-day conference, research always showed that people get charged up but then very quickly it drops back down. But if you continually have the reinforcement, I think that was another positive thing about this project – that it wasn’t a one-day thing. This is a continually reinforcing process where you know you are going to come back and revisit things and you have other people that you can share and learn from, and I think that was really good. (Teacher, small group discussion) Extending boundaries Communities of practice by their very nature have boundaries. Often, these boundaries are considered to be impermeable, limiting and overly defining. However, even within the boundedness of shared practice, communities do not operate in a vacuum or in isolation, they are part of a larger social landscape, and their histories, artifacts, and experiences are ‘histories of articulations with the rest of the world’ (Wenger, 1998, p. 103). Indeed, boundaries of a successful community of practice are fluid

Nurturing agency and action 225

and arise from intersections of different interests, histories, ways of communicating, and different levels of expertise and capabilities. It is at these boundaries that most learning occurs – at the point where competence and experience tend to diverge. This divergence provides encounters with the unknown, opportunities to question, inquire and explore. Otherwise, the community would stagnate and, possibly, collapse. Many of the teachers in STAR commented on the fluidity of the boundaries, and the fact that they could move across them and, more importantly learn from different interactions and intersections. Their words speak to the notion that boundaries can be places where perspectives meet and new possibilities arise: As a team, we’re seeing each other working on this project but then we’re also seeing other teachers that are doing similar things . . . we’re not the only ones who are trying, and they’re having the exact same feelings or thoughts or problems as we are. It’s good to have sounding boards, it’s not just with the team, we have other teachers out there and we’re sounding out stuff and they can give us some input that we hadn’t thought about before. It helps to have other people who are outside who can see other things. (Teacher, large group discussion) To talk about practice . . . that was really central to my learning, to be able to talk and especially not only within the school but having time to talk to people from other schools and talk about issues, even across panels [i.e. elementary and secondary]. (Teacher, interview) The crossing of boundaries beyond the immediate community and the mechanisms by which communities of practice define themselves within broader contexts are critical. Teachers described their participation in larger social contexts as they interacted with others beyond the STAR community (i.e. teachers not in STAR, students, and parents). Through dialogue and sharing, further connections were established, creating participation and reification across boundaries: I share with my students, the day before I go [to STAR] where we’re going. I told them about the project and what we’re doing . . . helping us figure out the best ways of teaching them and showing them some results, and I think it reinforces for them the importance of research and reflection. (Teacher, small group discussion)

226 E. Pedretti et al.

We have a community of learners, professional learners that come together to talk about science education and to make good decisions for kids. We have teachers who are sharing knowledge not only with their grade level colleagues but also with their divisional colleagues, their school colleagues and beyond school colleagues. (Lisa, School board facilitator, interview) Another teacher described how she provided materials and resources for teachers to assist them in constructing their own understandings and practices: I take learnings and findings to colleagues at other schools and other boards, liaise with science consultants at another District school board and help them with, for example, STSE implementation. Sharing with colleagues at my school not only my own research but ideas, suggestions, etc. that have come from my interaction with other STAR participants. (Teacher survey) Developing identities It is clear that most teachers, while participating in this three-year project, developed a strong identity with STAR. This identity defined their role in the project, brought into focus their concerns, sense of purpose, and emotion of participation. Inherent to identity was a strong sense of connectedness with other members of the community founded upon shared experiences, mutual interests and a feeling of belonging: The single most effective thing for me has been the opportunity to have one day a month to come and be with other teachers and to discuss things, share and to regroup and to reflect and to discuss . . . I think that’s been the most powerful for me. (Teacher, small group discussion) Doesn’t talking to other people make you feel more secure about your own teaching, and then in turn you can take more risks in the classroom? (Teacher, small group discussion) Another interesting identity to emerge from the STAR experience, particularly for the elementary teachers, was the emergence of a ‘science teacher’ identity. The growth of teachers’ confidence and perception of themselves as competent and knowing in science was striking. Teachers grew to seek other possibilities and cross boundaries, combining

Nurturing agency and action 227

competence and experience into abstract and concrete ways of knowing. As Wenger (2000) suggests, identity must enable action, nurturing empowerment rather than marginalization, freedom rather than oppression, independence rather than dependence: I gained an immense amount of confidence in this science area. I began to take risks, set up experiments in class, and ask students to think about things I hadn’t necessarily thought through myself. I’m actually excited about teaching science now! (Teacher survey) I’m a drama major and I’m teaching science . . . and I find myself getting downhearted quite a bit teaching science because I don’t understand it. But it [STAR] gave me more and more confidence that I can do this even though it takes me a while to understand what I’m doing . . . I am gaining confidence and if I hadn’t come all last year and all this year I wouldn’t be where I am today. I actually am beginning really to know what I’m talking about now in science, that’s kind of a neat feeling. (Teacher, small group discussion) Finally, STAR allowed people to have multi-memberships, cross multiple borders, and experience new possibilities. Although true for teachers, this was equally true for the facilitators (Lisa and Chuck). Because of the unique roles of the board facilitators, their identities were varied and integrated: I identified with the quandaries of writing in a journal . . . I identified with questions around data which could be overwhelming in the beginning, about what does good data look like and evolving in my understanding of what data was in the classroom . . . I identified with the love of science, with making a difference and asking big questions and really thinking about our thinking. (Lisa, School board facilitator, interview) STAR exemplifies a mature social learning system, a community of practice, marked by boundary processes and emerging multi-layered identities. But how was this successful community of practice built and sustained? And more importantly, what will happen to the STAR community when the formal partnership comes to a close? We believe that leadership, in its many forms, was one of the key principles to building STAR and maintaining its momentum into the future.

228 E. Pedretti et al.

Leadership in teacher/researcher communities of practice We view leadership as expanding the potential for negotiability and meaning-making for participants in a community of practice. In the STAR community, leadership came in many forms – from the facilitation team, participating teachers and administration. The following sections describe the many faces of leadership that existed within and grew out of STAR’s infrastructure (as well as some of the inherent struggles around leadership). We also include stories of agency and action from participating teachers as they move STAR into the future – beyond the immediate fold of the partnership.

Leadership from school/university facilitators: Closing the gap Communities of practice require and depend on some form of leadership. In addition to obvious roles of maintaining the functioning and structure of STAR, the school/university facilitators also provided readings and conducted mini-workshops. Teachers seemed to respond positively to this leadership: And the speakers [from the university] . . . I found the content really inspirational . . . it gets you thinking about different things on a different level. (Teacher, small group discussion) Just reading about the nature of science and what science is – it has really helped us open up our eyes to what science is all about – it has brought magic back into it. (Teacher, group discussion) One teacher emphasized the importance of focus, and the value placed on professional development: I think one of the practices that I really appreciated was they [STAR facilitators] actually valued professional development for teachers – focusing on just science and technology. I think expectations for all teachers, but especially in the elementary panel are huge in terms of the new curriculum, the format, and what they expect teachers to be able to do or to help kids to achieve. (Teacher, small group discussion) However, the leadership exercised by the school/university facilitators was not without its struggles. What often becomes problematic in

Nurturing agency and action 229

school/university collaborations are deeper issues related to power, control and direction. If action research communities of practice are about teacher empowerment and co-construction, then any hegemony between various players in the community should dissolve. Leadership should lie ‘in helping practitioners to get where they want to get, not in “getting” them to where the researchers think they should get to’ (Kosimidou and Usher, 1991, p. 28). The difficulty here lies in trying to establish when intervention becomes directive (Johnston and Proudfoot, 1994; Pedretti, 1996). Thus, facilitators must balance the needs of the entire community with the unique educational contexts of each teacher-researcher. Subscribing to the view that action research should be about empowerment of teachers is no guarantee that facilitators will act in a way that promotes empowerment. Indeed, one of the few tensions that STAR experienced reflected this very problem of power, reified by the theory/practice gap: It’s sometimes a long haul to get to having both practical and theoretical pieces merged together, to get the data that we need, and also help teachers move toward that emancipatory action research, and we wrestled a lot with the idea of being too directive. Just as teachers wrestle with being too directive with kids, we really had some blips along the way about how we were going to get there . . . They were always dynamic discussions and we really sometimes had to lay our soul on the table in terms of what you believed in and what was right for the project. And I think through all that dialogue and sometimes tension, we came up with the best model possible. And, on reflection, I would say that was all for the good. Sometimes it was very time-consuming, very demanding, and sometimes the politics of an institution like OISE/UT versus the politics of an institution like a District School Board are often at odds, so that was an interesting conundrum we were faced with on occasion. (Lisa, School board facilitator, interview) Several teachers also commented on what they felt were different agendas driving STAR, i.e. the university research agenda versus the university/ school board professional development agenda (see Bencze et al., 2002). Somekh (1994) posits this dilemma as one that confronts the power differential construed by school/university collaborations. Through regular meetings and discussion, however, these tensions were discussed openly and explicitly, with the hope of eliminating hegemony between academics and teachers. Lisa summarized our work and our struggles in the following: I think there was strength in shared joint ownership of the project – that no one person directed it. Our voices were all heard around the table and we usually made the decisions in the best interest of the

230 E. Pedretti et al.

participants involved and for the benefit of the students involved. I think the strength of merging theory with practice would be that we made a difference in science education in Peel. Leadership from within: Empowering teachers Teachers as facilitators Nurturing leadership from within teacher groups has been central to the success of STAR. Chuck began his participation in STAR as an elementary teacher, interested in the opportunity to develop his reflective practice, engage in dialogue and systematic inquiry, and learn from others. By the third year, Chuck had become the Board science and technology consultant, and one of the key STAR facilitators. His transition from participating teacher to ‘participative leader’ allowed him to move seamlessly across multiple boundaries. Drath and Palus (1994) construe leadership as a process of meaning-making within a community of practice. This participative form of leadership contrasts sharply with more traditional views of top-down, outsider leadership. Chuck described the change in his role, and his identity as being in both worlds – that of teacher, and board facilitator: I had more people talk to me about flexibility of days for STAR and resources. But where there was more of a change was that I now had more time to work with teachers. I was more of a sounding board, more often obviously than when I was in the first year of STAR (as a teacher). I had a lot more people come up to me and say, “Chuck what do you think about this question, what do you think about this data, can I use this?” (Interview) Teachers as leaders beyond the STAR community Leadership beyond the STAR community manifested itself in many forms. Sometimes leadership was about sharing work and inquiry with colleagues at schools, other times it took on more formal structures as teachers began to systematically inquire into particular problems or issues. As one of the teachers commented: What’s really important is to share what you are doing with other people at your own school. I found that a lot of things I did and shared in first year, people are still doing now and using in their classroom, and that’s a good feeling . . . that it’s affecting others and not just your own classroom. (Teacher, small group discussion)

Nurturing agency and action 231

Another teacher wrote about her transformation as the science leader back at her school, and the diffusion of STAR principles and practices: I am now the ‘science expert’ on my grade team level. When we get together to plan, I am responsible for choosing the science expectations and developing our unit . . . I am using my STAR practices to help develop science curriculum. (Teacher survey) One particular elementary school teacher spoke with great enthusiasm and passion about STAR and, more importantly, the community that was evolving at his school. His excitement could hardly be contained. As a facilitator, he is now working with five other teachers in the school planning for the grade six Space unit. As part of the unit, they are preparing their students for a trip to the Ontario Science Center to participate in the Challenger Simulation. Teachers are sharing resources, developing curriculum together, and attending Science Center workshops for teachers in order to prepare for the simulation. He has created a community of practice beyond STAR, another community that honors reflection, identity, and shared goals, “I am so excited, you should see the level of engagement in these teachers.” This teacher’s story is one of seeding and sustaining action research beyond STAR. There are many similar stories of teachers initiating change at their schools, stories like the ones above, too numerous to be included. Nevertheless, teachers also voiced their concerns about the future of STAR, and the potential difficulties of establishing other action research endeavors: How will this whole idea of action research percolate to others when you’re going to be maybe the only person at the new school? What happens to it after? It would take a while . . . you would have to develop a team mentality, you know, it takes a while to bond and find somebody who is going to buy into it because of your enthusiasm. (Teacher, small group discussion) The challenge is that if this opportunity [i.e. STAR] is not available to me or to members of my team then the question I have is, “Will we continue learning to take initiative?” (Teacher, small group discussion) These concerns raise an important question that leads us to our final query – what happens next?

232 E. Pedretti et al.

Leadership beyond the fold: Nurturing agency and action Given the nature of the social learning system created through the STAR project, a key question is, ‘Will the essence of STAR – e.g., its ethic of critical collaborative reflective practice – continue after the formal school district and university support end?’ Our research suggests that the project nurtured communities of practice, leadership and agency, and promoted action beyond the fold. A wealth of activities sprang directly from teachers’ participation in STAR. Teachers have become the school science experts, they are collaborating and sharing STAR experiences with other colleagues, working with non-STAR colleagues to improve professional competencies, developing and implementing workshops, presenting and participating in conferences, mentoring other teachers, promoting science and technology activities, advocating for increased spending on science resources, teamteaching, enroling in graduate programs, pursuing action research in other areas of curriculum, involving students and parents in STAR experiences, developing science teams at their schools, and discovering and exploring more science and technology resources. Their experiences illustrate their growing confidence as science educators and teachers of children, and their desire to continue life-long professional learning and growth: The amount of collaborative planning I do with my colleagues/ teaching partners (both STAR and non-STAR) has increased substantially due to the cross-curricular nature of our STAR projects. We have presented our STAR research at the NFO [North Field Office] conference, at STAO [Science Teachers Association of Ontario] conference twice, and will be presenting at the Curriculum 2002 Conference in May. (Teacher, survey) The STAR project has experienced many successes over its three-year term – but this is only the beginning. As the project formally comes to a close, participating teachers share their plans for continuing what the group has coined ‘STAR practices.’ Their future plans include: collaborating with other teachers in their schools; networking with colleagues to continue the professional dialogue; developing and implementing workshops based on STAR experiences and practices; establishing a STAR contact group; talking to students and parents; publications and dissemination activities; and building learning communities at schools where STAR philosophies and methods can be shared with colleagues. A striking example is the case of one particular administrator who has been charged with opening a new school. As principal of the school, she is actively promoting an action research ethic, based on her STAR experience, with the entire staff. We reserve the final words for one of the STAR teachers:

Nurturing agency and action 233

I feel comfortable now that if I go somewhere else there are other people with similar interests, similar pursuits, and that there’ll be people I’ll be able to connect with. I think I have the courage – as being part of this process – to be able to share that with other people and that’s good. (Teacher, small group discussion)

Conclusion STAR has been a remarkable journey. In response to rapid, top-down curriculum reform, a group of science and elementary technology teachers and researchers created flourishing communities of practice. During the past three years, we have witnessed an evolution in the way teachers participate in these communities of practice. Teachers involved in the first year of STAR developed considerable understanding of, and expertise with, action research and, moreover, developed emerging habits of critical, collaborative reflective practice. During the second year, teachers focused more on particular problems and contexts in science and technology education. These outcomes bode well for the abilities of teachers to tailor science and technology education to meet needs, interests, abilities and perspectives of individual students. In the third year, participants integrated their ideas of being/becoming an action researcher and conducting inquiry, with the concern for sustaining these communities of practice beyond the life of the STAR project. We recognize that communities of practice are paradigmatic in nature, and as such, can be difficult to establish, change and sustain. Creating communities of practice around particular norms of practice and particular norms of community require balancing various stakeholder agendas and competing needs. Leadership, which is fundamental to any systemic collaboration, presents a paradox. For example, at what point does a vision of empowerment become a vision that directs teachers to empowerment? How does leadership enable action rather than marginalization, freedom rather than oppression, and independence rather than dependence? During the three years of STAR, we have attempted to problematize the notions of communities of practice and the role of leadership in order to understand better how systemic initiatives like school/university collaborations can sustain and develop communities of practice. Our research suggests that a number of features determine the success of school/university collaborations. First, it is important to develop communities of practice that are marked by fluid boundaries. Participants potentially move across borders – through a constellation of communities – learning from one another, sharing expertise, interests and experiences. Through these communities, collective learning and cultural practices are shared, negotiated and often re-defined. Second, the emergence of

234 E. Pedretti et al.

identities in communities of practice allows participants to connect with one another, share a common vision and experience a sense of belonging. Third, school/university collaborations need time and flexible infrastructures that will support teachers in setting and researching their own problems. The long-term nature of a professional development project together with significant school board support enables a community to continue to grow and delve deeply into issues of teaching and learning in science and technology. Fourth, communities of practice are most effective when leadership is shared and distributed among its members. Multiple forms of leadership (i.e. at the administrative, school and personal levels) allow for negotiated goals, while nurturing empowerment and independence. Distributed leadership facilitates action research processes and may engender agency and action in and beyond the immediate community. Embedded within communities of practice, shared leadership provides an opportunity for collective meaning-making and continued professional growth. We conclude, with cautious optimism, by speculating on the longevity and future of changing communities of practice. Although challenging to establish, mature communities of practice, if done in particular ways, can enable paradigm shifts. History tells us that top-down initiatives rarely persist, nor do they penetrate into classrooms. Local initiatives, on the other hand, are often idiosyncratic, and learnings do not necessarily flow from one community to another. Our school district/university action research project with its practical-emancipatory orientation, sought to bring these two approaches together in a way that would empower teachers and permeate classroom practice, in a sustained manner. Our work suggests that mature communities of practice, supported by multiple and distributed forms of leadership, have the potential for long-term professional development. As teachers continually reshape their praxis, they are creating effective systemic structures for renewed teacher learning and leadership.

Acknowledgments We gratefully acknowledge the support of the Ontario Ministry of Education, and the Peel District School Board for funding this work. A very special thank you to Lisa Serebrin Mylchreest and Chuck Hammill for their constant support, enthusiasm and humor, and to Karen Goodnough for her assistance during the first year of STAR. Last, but not least, we thank all the teachers who participated in STAR – for their unfailing energy, their commitment to excellence in teaching, and their unwavering faith in creating these collaborative communities of practice.

Nurturing agency and action 235

References Bell, B. and Gilbert, J. (1996) Teacher Development: A Model from Science Education. London: Falmer Press. Bencze, L., Di Giuseppe, M., Hodson, D., Pedretti, E., Serebrin, L. and De Coito, I. (2002) An ideological steam-roller effect in action: Collaborative action researchers consider significant school science reform in a milieu of administrative systematization, paper given as part of a multiple paper set at the annual meeting of the Canadian Society for the Study of Education, OISE/UT, University of Toronto, Toronto, May. Bencze, L. and Hodson, D. (1998) Coping with uncertainty in elementary school science: A case study in collaborative action research. Teachers and Teaching, 4(1), 77–94. Carr, W. and Kemmis, S. (1986) Becoming Critical: Education, Knowledge and Action Research. London: Falmer Press. Douglas, T. (1991) A Handbook of Common Groupwork Problems. New York: Routledge. Drath, W. and Palus, C. (1994) Making Common Sense: Leadership as Meaningmaking in a Community of Practice. Greensboro, NC: Center for Creative Leadership. Elbaz, F. (1983) Teacher Thinking: A Study of Practical Knowledge. New York: Nichols. Elliott, J. (1992) Action Research for Educational Change: Developing Teachers and Teaching. Philadelphia, PA: Open University Press. Fullan, M. (ed.) (1992) Successful School Improvement: The Implementation Perspective and Beyond. Buckingham: Open University Press. Fullan, M. (1993) Change Forces: Probing the Depth of Educational Reform. Lewes: Falmer Press. Hammersley, M. and Atkinson, P. (1990) Ethnography: Principles in Practice. London: Routledge. Johnston, S. and Proudfoot, C. (1994) Action research: Who owns the process? Educational Review, 46(1), 3–14. Kosimidou, C. and Usher, R. (1991) Facilitation in action research. Interchange, 22(4), 24–40. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. (1991) Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lincoln, Y. S. and Guba, E. G. (1985) Naturalistic Inquiry. London: Sage. Ministry of Education and Training (MOET) (1998) The Ontario Curriculum Grades 1–8: Science and Technology. Toronto: Queen’s Printer for Ontario. Ministry of Education and Training (MOET) (1999) The Ontario Curriculum Grades 9 and 10: Science. Toronto: Queen’s Printer for Ontario. Noffke, S. (1997) Professional, personal and political dimensions of action research. Review of Research in Education, 22, 305–343. Olson, J. K. (1990) Teachers’ conceptions of their subject and laboratory work in science. In E. Hegarty-Hazel (ed.), The Student Laboratory and the Science Curriculum. London: Routledge, pp. 201–220. Pedretti, E. (1996) Facilitating action research in science, technology and society (STS) education: An experience in reflective practice. Educational Action Research, 4(3), 307–327.

236 E. Pedretti et al. Pedretti, E. and Hodson, D. (1995) From rhetoric to action: Implementing STS education through action research. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 32(5), 463–485. Rearick, M. L. and Feldman, A. (1999) Orientations, purposes and reflection: A framework for understanding action research. Teaching and Teacher Education, 15(4), 333–349. Somekh, B. (1994) Inhabiting each other’s castles; towards knowledge and mutual growth through collaboration. Educational Action Research, 2(3), 357–381. Wells, G. (1994) Changing Schools from Within: Creating Communities of Inquiry. Toronto: OISE Press. Wenger, E. (1998) Communities of Practice: Learning, Meaning, and Identity. New York: Cambridge University Press. Wenger, E. (2000) Communities of practice and social learning systems. Organization, (2), 225–246.

Chapter 13

Conclusion Leading with a focus on science teaching and learning J. John Loughran

Introduction In an intriguing longitudinal study, Fensham (2002) interviewed a range of prominent science educators in an attempt to highlight some of the important features of research in science education over a forty-year period (1960–2000). One aspect of this study was an exploration of what the interviewees considered to be some of the important ‘breakthroughs’ or seminal papers that had shaped our understanding of science education. Some of the ideas discussed pertained to studies that brought to light facets of classroom teaching and learning that challenged the taken-forgranted assumptions of teaching and learning of the time. One field noted by many of the interviewees as being a notable ‘breakthrough’ was that of alternative conceptions in science (e.g., Driver et al., 1985; Osborne and Freyburg, 1985; West and Pines, 1985). Uncovering alternative conceptions led to new ways of seeing how school science learning was challenged by students’ own explanations of everyday phenomena. Not surprisingly, when the two clashed, the more closely held view won out, unfortunately, the more closely held view was not always the ‘correct’ scientific explanation. Interestingly, although many science teachers would have readily identified with situations in which students used their ‘school science’ to pass tests and to accommodate that which they were supposed to learn (Derry and Loughran, 1994; Gunstone, 1990), the realization that students held alternative conceptions was not so readily apparent. This meant that genuinely developing students’ understanding of science required more than simply giving them the correct scientific explanation. The idea, then, that science explanations needed to be plausible, intelligible and fruitful (Posner et al., 1982) if alternative conceptions were to be adequately challenged by the ‘correct science’ was, therefore, helpful in creating a call for science teachers to question transmissive modes of teaching (Barnes, 1976) and to begin to explore teaching from a constructivist perspective. The impact of this shift though was not necessarily immediate, for although there were ideas about

238 J. John Loughran

what might be needed in teaching for conceptual change (Johnson, 1991; Scott et al., 1992) or how curriculum might be organized to facilitate such change (Driver, 1988), real changes in classroom practice lagged. The slow take-up of change may well have been due to the fact that, in part, many science teachers were successful learners in a schooling system based largely on a transmissive approach. Hence, although the outcomes from research into science teaching and learning were intelligible and plausible, science teachers themselves had actually experienced personal fruitfulness in science learning through the very approach they were now being encouraged to question. Clearly, then, changes in how science teachers conceptualized teaching and learning in shifting to a constructivist model of classroom teaching (Hand and Treagust, 1994) were necessary if individual teachers’ science teaching itself was to change. It is clear then that one aspect of leadership in science teaching and learning that needs to be apprehended is that of the personal development of individual science teachers themselves – more so, it is a cornerstone to change in science teaching generally. Individuals may be encouraged to change their practice, but real change is more likely when there is a personal recognition of a need for such change. Such a personal investment in change requires internal commitment driven by personal questioning in ways similar to that described by Munby and Russell’s (1994) notion of the authority of experience; trusting in the ‘need to know’ derived from one’s own experience. Therefore, encouraging such change, and concurrently encouraging leadership in science teaching and learning, is as much about recognition of a need to change, as it is about that which is to be changed (and how that might occur). However, recognizing a need for change at the personal level of the individual science teacher is also enmeshed in the nature of collaboration and dialogue about practice so that implicit issues, needs and/or concerns might become explicit through highlighting the problematic nature of teaching for understanding. In an ongoing study into the pedagogical content knowledge of science teachers (Loughran et al., 2001), it was noted that many science teachers found it difficult to articulate their practice. Yet, when they reconsidered their approach to teaching in terms of questions such as what difficulties/limitations are connected with teaching particular ideas/concepts?; what knowledge about students’ thinking influences teaching of ideas/concepts?; what teaching procedures do you use for teaching specific ideas/concepts and why?; and, what do you do to ascertain students’ understanding or confusion around ideas/concepts you are teaching?, their pedagogical reasoning emerged and became much more apparent to all involved. Hence, a focus on the learner rather than the teacher enabled these participants to better describe what they did to develop students’ science understanding (and why) and to highlight the complex relationship between teaching and learning.

Leading in science teaching and learning 239

One important aspect of this work was the sharing of ideas about science teaching that was directly linked to identifiable aspects of student learning. It could well be argued that when individuals share their knowledge and understanding of practice, they also offer leadership as they have (not only) insights into practice to share, but have a need to develop a shared vocabulary and to create explanations through situations and contexts with which others can identify. Through this type of process and the accompanying discussions, they encourage colleagues to reframe (Schön, 1983) their own practice as they begin to see a need to question their own taken-for-granted assumptions about science teaching and learning by identifying with others’ situations. As many of the authors in this book have illustrated (in detail), it seems as though there are few things more powerful to science teachers than insights into students’ learning in their own classrooms (see, for example, chapters by Hoban, Tobin and Clark). One wonders then why it is that this approach is not used more as a catalyst for change. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that although much is known about barriers for change (Fullan 1993; 1995), one aspect of leadership that is too easily overlooked is the need to create and maintain conditions in which change might flourish. Just as Fischler (1999) notes that knowledge of the conditions of students’ learning of scientific topics can only influence teaching if teachers make this knowledge a part of their decision-making, so too conditions for change need to be an expectation of practice. The need for such conditions have been highlighted (through personal, collaborative and systemic practices) throughout this book, the challenge that stands is in trying to create possibilities for such conditions to be included in the common expectations of (the individual’s, school’s and system’s) ‘normal’ practice. The following begin to consider how this might be realized.

Developing a need to know Powerful personal learning experiences in science occurs when learners are ‘forced’ to question their existing understanding of a particular concept. This situation is akin to what is commonly described as cognitive dissonance. For example, the body’s immune system has a ‘memory’ whereby some childhood infections (e.g. measles, chickenpox) are only experienced once. The explanation as to why this is the case has to do with the antibodies the immune system produces to fight the infection (antigens). When the antigen first enters the host body, the white blood cells must find the antigen and then begin to make antibodies that specifically recognize that particular antigen. While the antibodies are being produced, the antigens continue to rapidly multiply, leading to infection. As more and more antibodies are produced in response to the antigen, the

240 J. John Loughran

battle ‘hots up’ until the antibodies outnumber the antigens and therefore win the fight. This primary response (where there are no antibodies that recognized the specific antigen through to mass production) ends with a small concentration of these antibodies remaining in the blood system as a memory against future infection. Therefore, if the same antigen enters the body again, these memory cells are able to trigger a secondary response whereby production of the antibodies leads to rapid production in sufficient numbers to defeat the antigen before it can multiply enough itself to lead to an infection. When the primary and secondary response is well understood, the reason why some diseases are only experienced once easily becomes chunked (White, 1988) so that an explanation of such events appears simple and unproblematic. However, being confronted by a situation whereby some individuals do experience the same infection twice can be quite confusing for a learner as it does not ‘fit the pattern’ for the information that generally explains the situation. The resultant cognitive dissonance, or experiencing such a discrepant event, can therefore be a powerful trigger for reviewing one’s existing understanding in an effort to explain the unusual. As learners of science, teachers themselves must have been confronted by such situations. For me, this leads to questioning how in our teaching we might create similar ‘learning situations’ for our students so that they will be encouraged to reconstruct their developing knowledge and so that they will actively process information in ways that will enhance their learning of the content. Sadly, a common difficulty linked to the daily nature of teaching (Loughran and Northfield, 1996) is that it is easier to revert to telling students what they need to know rather than to continuously be generating engaging teaching and learning situations. It seems obvious that in focusing on learning science through challenging learners’ existing world-views, engaging teaching situations can well be a natural consequence. Hence, if science teaching is to develop and change, it would seem important that teachers continually experience ways of recognizing the problematic nature of practice and respond in ways that are helpful to the learners, rather than simplifying the ideas and removing the grey areas that can so easily lead to powerful reasoning and questioning. Purposefully exploring ways of accessing a need to know is one way of encouraging the pedagogical reasoning and questioning that is so important in developing engaging teaching and learning situations.

Developing a shared vocabulary In order for any profession to share their ideas and insights, a common vocabulary is necessary so that the ideas and breakthroughs of the field can effectively be communicated. As the Project for the Enhancement of

Leading in science teaching and learning 241

Effective Learning (PEEL project) has illustrated through its ongoing success at developing teaching approaches that challenge students’ passive learning in class (see Baird and Mitchell, 1986; Baird and Northfield, 1992; Loughran, 1999), when the underlying ideas, innovations and purposes are clear to teachers, substantial progress occurs. Beyond the importance of teacher ownership of a project, voluntarily pushing the boundaries of practice and an expectation of learning through collaboration, another important aspect of the PEEL project has been the development of a shared language of learning among its participants. Importantly, in the PEEL project, this shared language has been empowering as it has offered access to powerful meanings of complicated and often context-specific situations in ways that, on the surface, may at first appear quite simple. Yet where such a common vocabulary is not present, teaching innovation and the subsequent pedagogical development and progress itself become difficult as the ideas, purposes and reasons that underpin good teaching and learning need to be continually explained and re-established for participants. PEEL has allowed participants to build on existing agreed principles of practice that are well understood through the shared language common to the project (e.g. understandings of metacognition, poor learning tendencies, good learning behaviours, teaching procedures, passive learning, and so on), thus carrying specific meaning for PEEL teachers in ways that are different (or not accessible) to non-PEEL teachers (Loughran, 2002). In a similar vein, science teaching and learning is more likely to be productive beyond the individual level when a shared language is pervasive (see, for example, the chapters by Simons et al., Mayer-Smith, Pedretti et al., and Ritchie and Rigano in this volume) and careful consideration of how this influences innovation and development is an important aspect of leadership.

Valuing the knowledge of practice There has long been recognition of a theory–practice gap in education. Research into science teacher education is replete with innovations and practices designed to ‘patch up’ this gap. Despite the best intentions of many (in teaching and academia), there is still an underlying belief that the effects of teacher preparation are washed out (Zeichner and Tabachnick, 1981) and that the worlds of theory and practice continue on in their own ways and their own directions with little real influence on one another. It seems as though this gap is exacerbated (perhaps unwittingly) by the stereotypical views of both these worlds. That which teachers know and do is somehow regarded differently by many participants on both sides of the gap. For teachers, their specialized knowledge and skills are largely tacit in nature with little perceived encouragement or need for them to be made

242 J. John Loughran

more explicit. Sadly, this leads to a situation whereby teachers themselves sometimes appear to undervalue their own specialist knowledge and skills. Conversely, academics are often viewed as attempting to theorize practice (which may well be important within academia), and doing so in ways that are alienating for many teachers. The outcome is that the underlying knowledge of teaching is therefore not accorded an appropriate level of respect by either group, resulting in an undervaluing of teachers’ work. Korthagen et al. (2001) challenge the notion of a theory–practice gap by approaching it differently. They view this dichotomy as unhelpful and offer an explanation of the inherent differences through the conceptualization of episteme and phronesis. They describe episteme as ‘Theory with a big T’ and phronesis as ‘theory with a little t’. In so doing, the purpose of theory is reconsidered in terms of the needs of the different end users. Hence, theory is an important shaping force in understanding practice in different ways. Obviously, though, at the heart of this explanation is the value of theory for practice, and practice for theory (Korthagen and Kessels, 1999). This conceptualization of episteme and phronesis offers new ways to understand, and therefore better value, teachers’ knowledge and skills by accessing the knowledge that is meaningful for both the world of teaching and the world of theory. As has been well illustrated in their research of their teaching with pre-service teachers, theory in practice offers leadership in better valuing the knowledge of teaching. Just as Fleer and Grace and Van Driel and Beijaard illustrate in this volume, in viewing the relationship between theory and practice differently, a barrier to leadership and change in science teaching can creatively be minimized, if not removed.

Communicating teacher knowledge Hoban (2002) makes a strong case for a Professional Learning System (PLS) as a way of managing educational change. He notes that, ‘current structures that use isolated one-off workshops of professional development days tend to reinforce existing practices and maintain the status quo’ (ibid., p. 163). It could reasonably be argued that the manner in which new ideas and innovations in practice are introduced to science teachers also occurs in a ‘one-off’ fashion. Hence, the changes are communicated in such a way as to suggest that they replace existing practice and/or that they are ‘add-ons’. Either way, it is not difficult to see how the status quo might prevail. Communication of knowledge in meaningful ways is a most important aspect of leadership, an important outcome being a challenge to the status quo. There is clearly a need to ensure that the communication is made in a manner congruent with the message.

Leading in science teaching and learning 243

Communicating the personal learning of individual science teachers requires consideration of approaches to the sharing of ideas and information in ways that may well be different from a systems-wide approach to change. It is crucial that in any case, an audience is able to access ideas in ways that help them to identify with the situation as well as being encouraged to respond appropriately to the situation, particularly in light of their own professional knowledge and actions. Important aspects of the knowledge of teaching and learning are too often overlooked in communication as the flow of ideas and information tends to revert to a transmissive approach, hence not necessarily encouraging engagement by the user and, consequently, not leading to serious processing and restructuring of existing ideas, knowledge and practices. In this volume, Nichols and Tippins’ approach to communication was different from that of Vander Borght’s and Bybee et al.’s, as the ideas, information and practices took different forms and served different purposes. What was to be communicated, how, and to what end, was carefully considered and was clearly a shaping factor in the nature of communication of the knowledge.

Conclusion As has been made clear in many ways through the research and practice of the authors in this book, the work of science teachers is a complex and highly dynamic world in which decision-making, beliefs, practices and values impact in a variety of ways on (and in) their teaching/learning environment. Teachers are professionals who bring their knowledge and experience to bear in a diverse range of interactions across their working day. Creating an expectation that these professionals have much to offer the system as a whole is one way of encouraging their collective leadership in science teaching and learning. Valuing their practice at the individual level is where real change begins. The ‘message is that for teachers’ professional learning to be effective, it must be an integral part of how the school as a whole “learns” to improve and to cope with change over time’ (Hargreaves and Goodson, 2002, p. xi). This message matters for all, whether it is an individual science teacher, a collaborative group of science teachers, or science teachers systemically. For science teaching and learning to advance, better recognition, encouragement and reward are needed at the classroom, school and system levels. The authors of this book have illustrated ways in which leadership for such advancement might occur. The challenge now is for their ideas to be interrogated, questioned and adapted so that they can be meaningfully used by others in the pursuit of leadership in science teaching and learning in others’ contexts.

244 J. John Loughran

References Baird, J. R. and Mitchell, I. J. (1986) Improving the Quality of Teaching and Learning: An Australian Case Study – the PEEL Project. Melbourne: Monash University Press. Baird, J. R. and Northfield, J. R. (1992) Learning from the PEEL Experience. Melbourne: Monash University Press. Barnes, D. R. (1976) From Communication to Curriculum. Harmondsworth: Penguin Education. Derry, N. and Loughran, J. J. (1994) Electricity: the challenge of teaching for understanding, Australian Science Teachers Journal, 40(3), 19–27. Driver, R. (1988) Theory into practice II: A constructivist approach to curriculum development. In P. Fensham (ed. ), Development and Dilemmas in Science Education. London: Falmer Press, pp. 133–149. Driver, R., Guesne, E. and Tiberghien, A. (eds) (1985) Children’s Ideas in Science. Milton Keynes: Open University Press. Fensham, P. J. (2002) Is science education a field of research? Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Australasian Science Education Research Association, Townsville, Australia, July. Fischler, H. (1999) The impact of teaching experiences on student teachers’ and beginning teachers’ conceptions of teaching and learning science. In J. J. Loughran (ed.), Researching Teaching: Methodologies and Practices for Understanding Pedagogy. London: Falmer Press, pp. 172–197. Fullan, M. (1993) Change Forces: Probing the Depths of Educational Reform. London: Falmer Press. Fullan, M. (1995) The limits and potential of professional development. In T. Guskey and M. Huberman (eds), Professional Development in Education: New Paradigms and Practices. New York: Teachers College Press, pp. 253–267. Gunstone, R. F. (1990) ‘Children’s science’: A decade of developments in constructivist views of science teaching and learning. Australian Science Teachers Journal, 36(4), 9–19. Hand, B. and Treagust, D. (1994) Teachers’ thoughts about changing to constructivist teaching/learning approaches within junior secondary science classrooms. Journal of Education for Teaching, 20(1), 97–112. Hargreaves, A. and Goodson, I. (2002) Series editor’s preface. In G. F. Hoban, Teacher Learning for Educational Change. Buckingham: Open University Press, pp. ix–xi. Hoban, G. F. (2002) Teacher Learning for Educational Change. Buckingham: Open University Press. Johnston, K. (1991) High school science teachers’ conceptualizations of teaching and learning: Theory and practice. European Journal of Teacher Education, 141, 65–78. Korthagen, F. A. J. and Kessels, J. P. A. M. (1999) Linking theory and practice: Changing the pedagogy of teacher education. Educational Researcher, 28(4), 4–17. Korthagen, F. A. J. with Kessels, J., Koster, B., Lagerwerf, B. and Wubbels, T. (2001) Linking Practice and Theory: The Pedagogy of Realistic Teacher Education. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Leading in science teaching and learning 245 Loughran, J. J. (1999) Professional development for teachers: A growing concern. The Journal of In-Service Education, 25(2), 261–272. Loughran, J. J. (2002) Understanding and articulating teacher knowledge. In C. Day and C. Surgue (eds), Developing Teachers and Teaching Practice: International Research Perspectives. London: RoutledgeFalmer, pp. 146–161. Loughran, J. J., Milroy, P., Berry, A., Gunstone, R. F. and Mulhall, P. (2001) Science cases in action: Documenting science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge through PaP-eRs. Research in Science Education, 31(1), 267–289. Loughran, J. J. and Northfield, J. R. (1996) Opening the Classroom Door: Teacher, Researcher, Learner. London: Falmer Press. Munby, H. and Russell, T. (1994) The authority of experience in learning to teach: Messages from a physics method class. Journal of Teacher Education, 45, 86–95. Osborne, R. J. and Freyburg, P. (1985) Learning in Science: The Implications of Children’s Science. Auckland, NZ: Heinemann. Posner, G. J., Strike, K. A., Hewson, P. W. and Gertzog, W. A. (1982) Accommodation of a scientific conception: Toward a theory of conceptual change. Science Education, 66(2), 211–227. Schön, D. A. (1983) The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action. New York: Basic Books. Scott, P. H., Asoko, H. M. and Driver, R. H. (1992) Teaching for conceptual change: A review of strategies. In R. Duit, F. Goldberg and H. Niedderer (eds), Research in Physics Learning: Theoretical Issues and Empirical Studies. Kiel: IPN/Institute for Science Education, pp. 310–329. West, L. H. T. and Pines, A. L. (eds) (1985) Cognitive Structure and Conceptual Change. London: Academic Press. White, R. T. (1988) Learning Science. London: Blackwell. Zeichner, K. and Tabachnick, B. R. (1981) Are the effects of university teacher education ‘washed out’ by school experience? Journal of Teacher Education, 32(3), 7–11.

Contributors

Douwe Beijaard is Associate Professor at the ICLON Graduate School of Education, Leiden University, the Netherlands. His major research interests are teachers’ practical knowledge, learning and professional development of teachers, teacher evaluation and the use of portfolios in teacher education programmes. He has published numerous articles and contributions to books on these issues, both in journals on science education (e.g., Journal of Research in Science Teaching) as well as in journals with a more general educational scope (e.g., Teaching and Teacher Education). He is executive editor of Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice and was chair of the organizing committee of the eleventh Biennial Conference of ISATT (International Study Association on Teachers and Teaching) in Leiden, the Netherlands, 2003. Larry Bencze is an Assistant Professor of Science Education at OISE/University of Toronto. His research and development programme includes various action research projects aimed, primarily, at promoting and researching learners’ abilities to conduct inquiry and invention projects. Related to that are studies of learners’ views on the nature of science and corresponding pedagogical priorities and practices. His overarching goal is to promote self-governing and creative thought for all students. With these views and projects in mind, he teaches and conducts research in his science teacher education and graduate programmes. Rodger W. Bybee is the Executive Director of Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS), Colorado Springs, USA. Prior to this, he was executive director of the Center for Science, Mathematics, and Engineering Education at the National Research Council. Author of numerous journal articles and several books, he chaired the content working group of the National Science Education Standards and was instrumental in their final development. His honours include the American Institute of Biological Science ‘Education Award’ and the National Science Teachers Association ‘Distinguished Service Award’.

248 Contributors

Jonathan Clark has nearly twenty years’ experience in science education at both the secondary and tertiary level. Jonathan presently heads COSAT (The Centre of Science and Technology), a specialist science school situated in Khayelitsha township outside Cape Town, South Africa. Besides teaching senior science, his involvement in COSAT’s Outreach programme allows him to engage in collaborative work with science teachers in neighbouring township schools. While having varied research interests, Jonathan is particularly concerned with exploring issues relating to the teaching and learning of science through a second language. Isha DeCoito is a doctoral candidate enrolled in the curriculum specialization at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education of the University of Toronto. Her interests are in science education and her dissertation focuses on writing to enhance learning science. Isha is also the co-developer and editor of Eye On Science: A Student Journal in Science and Technology and an assistant in the pre-service education programme at the University of Toronto. Her research interests include action research, teaching and learning science and gender issues related to science education. Maurice Di Giuseppe is a high school science teacher and PhD candidate at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education of the University of Toronto. He has written on action research in science education, student assessment and evaluation, and science, technology, society and environment (STSE) education. His primary research interests include writing in science textbooks. Sibel Erduran is a Research Associate at King’s College, University of London. She received her PhD in science education from Vanderbilt University, an MS in food chemistry from Cornell University and a BA in biochemistry from Northwestern University. She has had research and teaching experience in the USA, the UK and Cyprus. Her research interests include the application of history and philosophy of science in science education, with a particular interest in promoting epistemological reasoning in chemistry education. Marilyn Fleer is Professor of Early Childhood Education at Monash University, Australia. Marilyn began her career as an early childhood teacher in a childcare centre, pre-school, kindergarten and later worked as an early childhood advisor, curriculum officer and academic. Her research interest has focused on children’s thinking in science and technology and much of her conceptual work has concentrated on pedagogy, culture and learning. Tim Grace is the Deputy Principal of Florey Primary School in the

Contributors 249

Australian Capital Territory (ACT). From 1999 to 2001 he worked with the Department of Education in the ACT in the area of curriculum initiatives, specifically online learning. He has also been involved with undergraduate teacher training in technology and science as a tutor for Canberra University. His Master of Education thesis explored primary children’s clay modelling techniques. He undertook a teaching exchange fellowship to Colorado in 1997. He was the Convenor of ACET2000, an international conference entitled Designing Tomorrow Today and is currently the President of the Technology Educators Association of the ACT (TEAACT). Garry F. Hoban is the Science Education Coordinator at the University of Wollongong, Australia, and the Director of the Southern Sydney Program. He was a high school science teacher for fifteen years in Australia and overseas until he became a teacher educator. His research interests are teacher reflection and long-term professional development. His recent book is entitled Teacher Learning for Educational Change (Open University Press). Derek Hodson has more than thirty years’ experience in science education. Following a PhD in synthetic organic chemistry at the University of Manchester, he taught science and mathematics in secondary schools in England, Scotland and Wales for ten years before taking a post in the Department of Education at the University of Manchester. After eight years he moved to the University of Auckland, where he taught education and established the first Chair in Science Education in New Zealand. In 1991 he moved to Canada, where he is currently Professor of Science Education at OISE/University of Toronto, and Director of the Imperial Oil Centre for Studies in Science, Mathematics and Technology Education. Derek’s research interests include the history, philosophy and sociology of science, science curriculum history and action research. He has published widely in science education (five books, with two more in press, and close to one hundred research papers); he is Managing Editor of the Canadian Journal of Science, Mathematics and Technology Education and a member of the editorial board of four major international journals. Nancy M. Landes is a senior science educator at BSCS (Biological Sciences Curriculum Study), Colorado Springs, USA, where she has directed both curriculum development and professional development projects. Currently Director of the Professional Development Division at BSCS, she began her professional career as a classroom teacher and joined the BSCS staff in 1983. She has extensive experience in teacher education, especially in relation to the successful implementation of meaningful instructional materials in science classrooms.

250 Contributors

J. John Loughran is the Director of Higher Degrees by Research in the Faculty of Education at Monash University, Australia. He has been actively involved in teacher education for the past decade. His research interests include science teacher education, the teacher-as-researcher and reflective practice. He is currently chief investigator in an Australian Research Council Discovery Project exploring science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge. His recent RoutledgeFalmer publications include: Developing Reflective Practice; Opening the Classroom Door (Loughran and Northfield); Teaching about Teaching; Improving Teacher Education Practices Through Self-study (Loughran and Russell); and Researching Teaching. Jolie Mayer-Smith is an Associate Professor in the Department of Curriculum Studies and Coordinator of Science Education Programs in the Faculty of Education, University of British Columbia, Canada. She teaches courses in Science Curriculum and Instruction and Principles of Teaching for pre-service science teachers, and Research Methodologies for graduate students. Her research and writing encompass the fields of teacher education, post-secondary science teaching and learning, genetics education, and the application of digital technologies in science education. Sharon E. Nichols is an Associate Professor of Science Education at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. Her research has focused on ‘tools’ for science teacher reflection, socio-cultural issues mediating classroom science teaching, feminist pedagogy, and narrative research. Sherry’s teaching and research interests have been shaped by her prior experiences working as a health educator in a rural region of Florida, and as a grade 5/6 teacher. She was an integral member of a collaborative research team in the Philippines from 1999 to 2002. Jonathan Osborne is a Professor of Science Education at King’s College London, where he has been since 1985. His work involves teaching beginning teachers in the Post-Graduate Certificate of Education, teaching Master’s and professional development courses and supervising research students. Prior to this he worked as a teacher of physics in Inner London comprehensive schools for twelve years. He has conducted research in the area of primary children’s understanding of science, attitudes to science, informal learning and teaching the nature of science. He was a co-editor of the influential report Beyond 2000: Science Education for the Future. Erminia Pedretti is Associate Professor in science education at OISE/ University of Toronto and Associate Director of the Imperial Oil Centre for Studies in Science, Mathematics and Technology Education. She teaches in pre-service teacher education and graduate studies in

Contributors 251

science education. Her research interests include science, technology, society and environment (STSE) education, scientific literacy, action research, teachers’ professional development, and learning science in non-school settings. Erminia has published numerous articles in refereed journals and chapters in edited books. Janet C. Powell is the Associate Director at the BSCS (Biological Sciences Curriculum Study) in Colorado Springs, USA. In this capacity, she oversees the curriculum development, professional development, and research divisions of the organization. She has been active in science education for more than twenty years with a range of experience including teaching middle school and high school life and earth science, teaching science methods for pre-service and master teachers, developing university–school partnerships to improve science teaching and learning, developing innovative science curriculum materials, leading professional development activities in science education, and conducting school-based research. Donna L. Rigano graduated with a PhD in biochemistry from James Cook University, Australia, then was privately contracted as Team Leader on research in cancer treatment. Brief teaching assignments within the Faculty of Science led to an interest in teaching and learning and her appointment as Research Fellow in the School of Education at James Cook University where she continues to work on education research projects on a casual basis. She has developed a keen interest in qualitative research practices, professional thinking and practice, and teaching and learning science in classrooms. Stephen M. Ritchie is a Senior Lecturer in Science Education at James Cook University, Australia. His interest in science teacher leadership stems from his twelve-year career as a secondary science teacher, including five as head of department. His research focuses on classroom issues that relate to teaching and learning science. More recently he has become interested in qualitative research practices such as collaboration. He is co-author of Re/Constructing Elementary Science (Peter Lang, 2001) with Michael Roth and Ken Tobin. Steve is also the Director of a UNESCO-funded marine science curriculum development project for schools in the South Pacific Region. James B. Short is the Project Director of the SCI (Science Curriculum Implementation) Center at Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS), Colorado Springs, USA. Funded by the National Science Foundation, the SCI Center assists high school and district leadership teams in selecting and implementing standards-based curriculum materials. Prior to BSCS, he was the Director of Science Education for Edison Schools, Inc. He has ten years’ experience teaching high school

252 Contributors

biology using BSCS curriculum materials. In 1998 he was the recipient of the BSCS Teacher of the Year Award. Shirley Simon is a Lecturer in Science Education in the School of Mathematics, Science and Technology at the Institute of Education, University of London. Shirley teaches pre-service and in-service teachers on Institute courses and has carried out research on assessment, investigations, progression in learning and argumentation in science. Her current research interests focus on teachers’ professional development in mathematics and science. Shirley is a member of the Association for Science Education, UK. Deborah J. Tippins is a Professor of Science and Elementary Education at the University of Georgia in Athens, Georgia. She recently completed a year as a visiting Fulbright Scholar in science education in Iloilo City, Philippines. Deborah is a former elementary science teacher and served as Director of Research for the National Science Teachers Association. Deborah has a background in oceanography and enjoys collecting sand samples from beaches around the world. Kenneth Tobin is Professor of Education in the Graduate School of Education at the University of Pennsylvania. Prior to commencing a career as a teacher educator, he taught high school science and mathematics in Australia and was involved in curriculum design. After completing undergraduate and graduate degrees in physics at Curtin University in Australia, he completed a doctorate in science education at the University of Georgia. His research interests are focused on the teaching and learning of science in urban schools, which involve mainly AfricanAmerican students living in conditions of poverty. A parallel programme of research focuses on co-teaching as a way of learning to teach in urban high schools. His recent publications include editing of the International Handbook of Science Education (with B. Fraser) for Kluwer, and, Re/Constructing Elementary Science (with W.-M. Roth and S. Ritchie), At the Elbow of Another: Learning to Teach by Coteaching (with W.-M. Roth) and Transforming Undergraduate Science Teaching: Social Constructivist Perspectives (with P. Taylor and P. Gilmer, eds), all for Peter Lang. Cécile Vander Borght is Professeur Ordinaire in the Faculty of Sciences at the Université Catholique de Louvain (Belgium). She has been actively involved in science teacher education for twenty years and currently coordinates a European network on Science Teacher Education Development (STEDE). She conducts research on the impact of new teaching strategies, such as problem-based learning (PBL) and new information and communication technology (NICT). She is involved in international projects of research and development into new teaching

Contributors 253

strategies using NICT. Her recent publications have focused on the development of a socio-constructivist framework for teacher education and an analysis of the implementation of PBL in the Faculty of Engineers at Louvain. Jan van Driel is Associate Professor at the ICLON Graduate School of Education, Leiden University, the Netherlands, specializing in secondary science education, with a focus on teachers’ knowledge and beliefs in the context of pre-service teacher education and science education reform. Recently he has published on these issues in various international journals (e.g., Journal of Research in Science Teaching, Science Education and International Journal of Science Education). He is a member of the editorial board of the International Journal of Science Education and is co-editor of a book about chemical education (Chemical Education: Towards Research-based Practice, Kluwer, 2003). John Wallace is Professor of Science Education at the Science and Mathematics Education Centre, Curtin University of Technology in Perth, Australia. His thirty-year career in education includes work in classrooms, schools and school systems. His research interests include science teaching, teacher learning, school leadership and school reform. He is widely published and his most recent books, with William Louden, are Teachers’ Learning: Stories of Science Education (Kluwer, 2000) and Dilemmas of Science Teaching: Perspectives on Problems of Practice (RoutledgeFalmer, 2002).

Index

absenteeism 37 action research 11–12, 31, 103, 218–24, 229–34; practical-emancipatory form of 220, 234 agency 145–6, 232, 234 AIM (Analyzing Instructional Materials) Process 158–60, 164 analogies, use of 106, 108 Anderson, E. 44 Anderson, R. D. 213 anonymity of students 70–1 antibodies and antigens 239–40 ‘apprenticeship of observation’ 19 argumentation in school science 199–215; case study of 206–12; rationale for promotion of 199–200 attitudes, scientific 186 audio recordings, use of 21–2, 31, 105–6, 109, 202, 204, 221 authentic activities 10–11 autonomy of learners 194 Bagadiong, Luciano Jr. 137 Ball, D. L. 12 Barnes, C. A. 73 Barnes, D. 20, 22 Barth, R. S. 48, 54, 95 beliefs of teachers 20–2, 29–31, 163 Bencze, T. 103 Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS) 156–7 bonded departments 57 Borko, H. 9 ‘bottom-up’ initiatives 198 Bourdieu, P. 135 ‘breakthroughs’ in research 237 Briscoe, C. 73 British Columbia 95–6

Brown, J. S. 10 Carr, W. 219 Chavajay, P. 124 City High School, West Philadelphia 34–5 Clarke, D. 100 class management 189 Coble, C. R. 103, 112 Cognitive Acceleration in Science Education (CASE) project 215 cognitive dissonance 163, 239–40 Cohen, D. K. 12, 73–4 collaboration: between teachers 8–9, 101, 194, 199; between teachers and researchers 220–1, 229, 233–4 collaborative culture 49–50, 57–9, 94 collegial leadership 117–20, 124–7, 131–2 collegiality 59, 94, 96, 99–104, 113 Communauté française de Belgique (BFC) 177, 181–6 communities of difference 148 communities of practice 116–20, 126–7, 130–2, 218–34; fluid boundaries of 224–6, 233; leadership in 228–34 community, concept of 135, 147–8 community-based science education 134–48 competencies for teachers 181–7 passim connectivity 50, 56–60 constrained individualism 66 continuous assessment 50 Covey, S. R. 54 ‘critical friend’ approach 104

256 Index culture: concept of 44–5; of teaching 68; see also collaborative culture; local culture; school culture; street culture Cunnington, B. 49–50 curriculum development 103; schoolbased 2–3; teacher-only forms of 219 curriculum implementation 155–7, 163–4, 169–75; case study of 172–4 curriculum leadership, model for 164–71 Curtin University 4 Davies, L. 72 Day, C. 95 Dimmock, C. 50 discourse communities 10–13 distributed character of learning 10–13 distributed leadership 137, 234 Drath, W. 230 Driver, R. 213 Duke, D. L. 137–8 eglitarian ethos of teaching 97 Elbaz, F. 19–20 empowerment 213, 229, 233–4, 241 episteme 242 ethic of caring 55–6, 60 ethos of the school 97, 215 experience-based interactions 104, 107 facilitators: of change 54; of collaboration 220–1, 227–31 Fataar, A. 64 Fensham, P. J. 237 Fischler, H. 239 Florey Primary School 121 Foster, W. 135, 145 ‘frame’, concept of 22 Fullan, Michael 69, 72, 94–5, 201 Fuller, B. 68–9 Fusco, D. 148 Goodlad, J. 137 Goodson, I. 243 Greene, Maxine 144 Guatemala 124 Guba, E. 35 Haberman, M. 35, 45–6 habitus, concept of 44

Hargreaves, A. 60, 66–8, 73, 93–5, 243 hegemony 229 Hoban, G. F. 242 Hodson, D. 103 Hollingworth, H. 100 horizontal learning 104 Hoyles, C. 74 Huberman, M. 21 Hynes, M. C. 54 identity, sense of 226–7 ideology 185 immune system of the human body 239–40 individualism in teaching 67–8, 119, 193; see also constrained individualism innovative practice 215 in-service training of teachers 21, 214 Institute of Education, London 215 instructional materials 157–63, 213; impact of 170; selection and adoption of 169–70; standards-based 162–4, 169–70, 175 isolation of teachers 67–8 isomorphism in initial teacher education 192–3 Johnson, J. 54 Joyce, B. 202 K-12 Alliance 158 Kemmis, S. 219 King’s College, London 199, 202, 215 Korthagen, F. A. J. 242 Kotter, J. P. 177–8 Lakota tribe 134 Lave, J. 116–26 passim, 132 leadership 92–3, 116–17, 155, 215, 238–9; collective view of 136; in communities of practice 228–34; concepts of 134–6, 145, 147; definition of 177–81; development of 193–5; as distinct from management 178–9; distributed 137, 234; education in 180–1; in education 4, 13–14, 49, 81–2; instructional 117; managerial 137–8; qualities needed for 94, 96; and school culture 95–7; in science teaching 192; see also collegial leadership

Index 257 leading by example 48–9, 61 learning issues 193 learning logs 31 learning situations 241 Lee, J. C.-K. 50 legitimate peripheral participation 118, 120 Leithwood, K. 54, 137–8, 214 Lesne, M. 194 Limerick, D. 49–50 Lincoln, Y. S. 35 local culture 36 local initiatives 234 Logan, L. 21 Lortie, D. 19 Loucks-Horsley, S. 202 Louden, W. 8, 12, 74 Louis, K. S. 181–3 Lynch, S. 102

personal development of teachers 238 Philippines, the 134, 136, 138, 147–8 phronesis 242 Pontecorvo, C. 201 portfolios of student teachers 189–90 Powell, J. C. 213 principals of schools, role of 95, 181–2 professional development 12–14, 21, 104, 113, 169–70, 202, 214–15, 234; principles of 162; transformative 163–4, 175; and use of instructional materials 155–62 professional learning system (PLS) 242 professionalism 66 Project for the Enhancement of Effective Learning (PEEL) 241 Prophet, R. B. 69–70 Putnam, R. T. 9 Queensland 51–2, 60

Mason, C. L. 102 McLaughlin, M. W. 69 meaning, negotiation of 117–18 Mexico 84, 124 models used in teaching 108–11 motivation of students 37–8 Munby, H. 238 National Curriculum 198 networking 104–7, 232 Newton, P. 200 Noss, R. 74 nurturing environments 94–6 objectives set for schools 184–5 Ogborn, J. 198 ‘OHERIC’ process 185 Open Learning Agency, British Columbia 83–4 outcomes-based models of education 5–6, 55 ‘ownership’ concept 198–9, 221, 241 Palus, C. 230 parental involvement 39–41 Parke, H. M. 103, 112 Passeron, J. 135 Paterson, A. 64 pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) 99–113; for pre-service teachers 108–12 ‘pedagogy of poverty’ 35–6, 45–6

Ramsden, P. 177–8, 181 reflective practice 7, 220, 233 reification 118, 225 risk-taking 57, 183, 194, 202, 214–15 Rogoff, B. 119, 124 Russell, T. 238 Sachs, J. 21 school culture 95–7 SCI (Science Curriculum Implementation) Center 157–8, 164, 169, 171, 175 science, understanding of 237–8 Science Through Applications Project (STAP) 63, 70, 72, 75 script, concept of 72 Secondary Science Curriculum Review 198 Seigfried, Charlene 135 Senge, P. 4, 48–9 Sergiovanni, T. J. 49, 138, 147 Sewell, W. H. 44 Showers, B. 202 Shulman, L. S. 99 Silan Science and Environmental Education Center 142–6 Silva, D. V. 13, 49, 54, 59, 81 Siskin, L. S. 57 situative perspective 9–11, 13, 116, 132, 222 Smith College, Australia 6

258 Index Snyder, C. W. 68–9 social capital 43–5, 223 social learning 9–10, 222, 227, 232 socio-cultural perspective 119, 125, 138 socio-instructivist perspective 194 Somekh, B. 229 South Africa 66 Spillane, J. P. 137 STAR (Science and Technology through Action Research) project 218–34 Starratt, R. J. 49, 55 street culture 41, 44 Strike, Kenneth 136 student-centred approaches 20, 50, 60, 70, 75, 83, 170 student teachers, views and expectations of 187–91 students’ perspective on teaching 31, 69 support mechanisms in school 57 systemic reform 9–10, 175

theory–practice gap 241–2 ‘top-down’ initiatives 3, 219, 234 Toulmin, S. 201–3 Toulmin’s argument pattern (TAP) 203–5, 213 transmissive approach to science teaching 237–8, 243 trust 223

tacit knowledge and skills 241–2 Talbert, J. E. 69 Tavana, G. V. 137–8 Taylor, Peter 6–7 teacher education 180–92; trends in 192–5; see also in-service training teacher knowledge 8, 19–20, 194 teacher leadership 49, 81–2 teacher learning 1, 7–14, 199, 213; model for 100–1 teaching of science, new orientations for 180 team-working 194 Technology Enhanced Secondary Science Instruction Project (TESSI) 81–97

Wasley, P. A. 97 Waverley High School, Australia 5 Wenger, E. 116–26, 132, 218, 222–4, 227 Western Australia 1–6 Western heritage and values 135–6 Western Samoa 137–8 White Hawk, Sandy 134 Wildy, Helen 4–5 Wilson, S. M. 74

United States: National Academy for Curriculum Leadership 164, 175; National Institute for Science Education 162; National Science Education Standards 170 Université Catholique de Louvain 177, 181, 186–7 University of Pennsylvania 34 University of the Western Cape 63 ‘unlearning’ by teachers 73 video recordings, use of 204, 221 vision 215, 222

Yengeni High School, South Africa 63–75