When my children attended elementary school in a rural, K-8 school in northeastern Ontario, both the principal and vice-principal were men. So were four of the classroom teachers – one, remarkably, in the primary division. My grandson now attends the same school. Last year there was one male teacher. This year, he’s gone. The principal, the vice-principal, the teachers, the secretary, the aides, the noon-hour supervisors – all women.
My grandson is a normal little boy who sometimes runs afoul of school rules. His parents worry that, in a school staffed entirely by women, the tolerance for horseplay and other little-boy behaviour is low, and that he and his friends will begin to see themselves as a “trouble-makers” rather than as bright and lively boys with energy to burn.
Their concern is being echoed across the country, as was recently pointed out in a six-part series on boys and education in the Globe and Mail. There is some debate about whether the absence of male teachers affects the academic success of boys, but there can be little debate about the impact it has on the climate of the school. Just as we bemoan the paucity of women in positions of economic and political power, we should bemoan the paucity of men in positions that provide nurturing and guidance for young people of both genders.
Teaching has always attracted more women than men, but the recent widening of that gap has resulted in many schools that look like my grandson’s school. The reasons are varied and complex; Jon Bradley’s article on “False Accusations” in this issue tells part of the story. Whatever the reasons, we should be concerned about the consequences. Many perfectly normal little boys are spending their days in school surrounded by adults who struggle to comprehend them and have nowhere to turn for another perspective in a single-gender workplace.
The world inhabited by young boys is unfamiliar, sometimes troubling, territory for most women. This is not to ignore the obvious – that behaviours and attitudes of both genders at all ages span a wide and overlapping range. Nor is it to make any assumptions about whether these differences are the result of “nature” or “nurture”. It is just to recognize that boys, as well as girls, need to relate regularly to adults who’ve “been there”. For that to happen in our schools, we need to find a way to get more men into the classroom and to make sure they are comfortable staying there.
New Century, New Game
Dennis Sumara
Professor and Dean, Faculty of Education, University of Calgary
Rather than starting with assertions about 21st-century teaching, I’ll begin with a question about 21st-century knowing. What is it? I’ll frame my response by looking to popular culture from “then” and “now” – that is, in terms of a cultural shift that I believe is manifest in a contrast between two era-defining genres: the quiz-based game shows of the 20th century and performance-based reality TV of the 21st century.
In the 1980s and 90s shows such as Jeopardy and Who Wants to be a Millionaire? were among the most-watched game shows. In these and others popularized during this time, knowing is represented through the imperative to provide quick-draw responses to prompts that span the breadth of current knowledge. Every question has an unambiguous, preset answer. The judge is the host with answers in hand. By contrast, in more recent shows such as So You Think You Can Dance and Canadian Idol, knowing is represented by inviting contestants to create innovative and demanding performances, often with unfamiliar material that requires an extension of expertise from a related domain. The judges are both industry experts and the public at large.
How are these two types of TV shows evaluated? In the quiz-based shows, feedback comes with clinical precision. Contestants are right, wrong, or not fast enough. In the performance-based shows, feedback arrives in the form of expert critique, highlighting strengths and weaknesses, and always geared toward improved future performances of participants. It is the popular cultural genre of reality TV that, I argue, exemplifies 21st-century knowing – where knowing is associated with deep specialization and the capacity to generalize to other domains out of the depth of that expertise. In these settings, to know is to adapt flexibly, rapidly, and creatively in the face of always-changing circumstances.
The qualities demonstrated through the evolution of quiz-based to performance-based shows begin to paint a picture of 21st-century learning – which is about something different than preparing people to do well on timed achievement tests. Among the qualities of emerging importance, as a culture we seem to be paying much more attention to deep specialization and well-honed skills that are most powerfully developed by starting young, practicing intensively, having expert teaching, and regularly pressing one’s efforts past the edges of current mastery.
It is the popular cultural genre of reality TV that, I argue, exemplifies 21st-century knowing… In these settings, to know is to adapt flexibly, rapidly, and creatively in the face of always-changing circumstances.
If these are what 21st-century knowing and learning are about, then 21st-century teaching would seem about something other than imparting, communicating, or mediating knowledge. Nor is it principally about directing, guiding, or preparing learners – all of which, it bears mention, are well suited to preparing contestants on Jeopardy and Millionaire. Temporally appropriate teaching seems to be more about challenging – that is, challenging knowledge/knowing and challenging learners/learning. More specifically, it appears to be about setting the sorts of challenges that come from deep familiarities with what it is possible to know and the complex processes involved with coming to know.
One further lesson from reality TV can be found in a shift in the status of “contestants”. While it’s true that someone still comes out on top on Idol, etc., the record shows that there are always multiple winners through the exposure and tutelage gained through the experience. That is, it’s probably more appropriate to speak of “co-participants” than “contestants”.
What might these shifts mean for teacher education? At the very least they point to the need for nimble programs that can adapt to emergent circumstances. In the Faculty of Education at the University of Calgary, among the new programmatic changes informed by and responsive to evolutions in knowing and learning, we are implementing a specialization requirement for elementary as well as secondary candidates; we are articulating relationships with schools not in terms of “host” institutions but as full partners in research-informed and active practice; we are framing teacher education not in terms of pre-service preparation but as initial and ongoing components in career-long trajectories of learning.
Most important, University of Calgary teacher education students are considered active co-participants in the project of formal education. While they are not contestants in the same way as those who participate in reality TV, we are challenging them to engage in similar forms of knowing and learning. Why? Because like many others, we’ve noticed that with the new century, we now have a new game – one that demands expert participation within challenging and collaborative ever-changing worlds of knowing.
Human Flourishing in the 21st Century
John R. Wiens
Dean, Faculty of Education, University of Manitoba
An intriguing question: how does the 21st century affect why and how we educate? I would claim that why we educate, in the broadest terms, does not change because of where we are in the history of humankind. On the other hand teaching, or how we educate, is profoundly affected by the ethos and cultures of the times, very dependent upon the human material and intellectual resources available. Teacher education, which has as its aim understanding and promulgating the relationship between education and teaching, must respond to the demands of both simultaneously. Faculties of Education, in thinking about and acting on education and teaching, play an essential role at any and all times in the advancement of human flourishing.
Since ancient times, even in oral histories, education has held a particularly important role in the enhancement of human life. Kieran Egan, a world-renowned educational theorist at Simon Fraser University, paraphrases earlier philosophers, when he states that “education is simply about learning to live better.” He means this the same way as did the Greeks: learning to live a more ethical personal life and, in that way, contributing to a worthwhile world or society because living well also carries the connotation of living well with others. In the 21st century, this is a lot more complex than it was in ancient times. Our world is not the Athenian city-state but the whole world of humanity, a fact that challenges significantly our ethical and political imperatives. To live a meaningful and worthwhile life today means to critique, challenge, and confront the arrangements and relationships that undergird the unconscionable material disparities, the seemingly insurmountable cultural and religious differences, and the provocative technological changes that mark our age, and that seem to account for unprecedented uncertainty and anxiety.
To teach in such times presents a host of challenges which, informed by our imaginations, can be considered opportunities. We have the everyday technological media to allow us to imagine communicating with anyone and everyone else in the world almost instantaneously. We have examples of political leaders, like Mandela, who have demonstrated how to embrace humanity above difference at the same time as celebrating diversity. We have thousands of examples of how small investments have emancipated people from life-threatening poverty, and we have virtually eradicated some life-ending diseases. More importantly we now recognize how inextricably connected all of humanity is, and how fragile the natural world we inhabit has become. We have unprecedented understanding of previously unforeseen circumstances. The “teaching trick” is to enlarge our moral imaginations and political wills, and those of our young, to see how we might flourish in such a situation.
We have unprecedented understanding of previously unforeseen circumstances. The “teaching trick” is to enlarge our moral imaginations and political wills, and those of our young, to see how we might flourish in such a situation.
For teacher education and Faculties of Education, this is an exciting but difficult time. It is exciting because the task has never seemed more critical. It is challenging because predetermined methodology and prescribed process have limited access to questions about the appropriate amount of compassion, reasonable levels of scepticism, or contestable notions of the personal, interpersonal, and public good. Yet we live in a world enthralled by economic ends and technological means for judging the value and consequences of educational acts. Lesson plans, school curricula, and classroom management must be put in a more appropriate relationship to larger human issues like human freedom writ large – freedom from material deprivation, cultural intolerance and other sources of social injustice, and freedom from environmental degradation. Simply put, faculties of education have a civic responsibility to continuously bring large human questions to the fore, and engage in never-ending meaningful, democratic dialogue about the human “good”, and in the process not succumbing to 21st-century notions that undermine who we have become and can become as people.
21st Century Education: Developing Capacious Minds and Generous Hearts
Alice Pitt
Dean, Faculty of Education, York University
Discussions about 21st-century education tend to be headline grabbers. Whether the focus is on learners, the curriculum, school design, economic forces, or global issues, one is left with the impression that, like poor old Rip Van Winkle, we’ve all been in a deep slumber only to have awakened to the utter strangeness of a brave and hostile new world. The glare of the new – a dizzying array of digital media capabilities; global migrations within and between nations towards urban areas and away from rural and village roots; the rise and collapse of whole economies; and the growing realization that our natural environment can’t bear our weight – threatens to blind us to the fact that educators have been tireless advocates of the very kinds of competencies now declared to be the signposts of our future.
John Dewey, for example, did not anticipate the iPad, the search engine, or YouTube, much less the wide range of biographies of the families whose children become classmates. Yet we think with Dewey when we argue for creating conditions to address learners just as and who they are; when we identify critical and media literacies as necessary companions to our encounters with culture, knowledge, and “information”; and when we construct project-based and discipline-rich curricula as the supports for the development of curiosity, imagination, generic problem-solving skills, and the will and ability to think alone and with others. In some ways, 21st-century teaching means pressing even harder against the strong tides of tradition that painstakingly built the schools where our future teachers formed their own understanding of what school is like.
The dilemma for pre-service programs is to prepare future teachers for schools as they currently exist while also enlarging their vision about what schools and public education might, should, or will become.
The dilemma for pre-service programs is to prepare future teachers for schools as they currently exist while also enlarging their vision about what schools and public education might, should, or will become. We currently imagine pre-service education as providing beginners with the skills and knowledge to be successful in their first few years of teaching. We know, from research and experience, that such immediate success is elusive. Classrooms are complex sites of practice. However, the old problems and the new (old) urgencies collide when we fix our gaze on immediate success.
Twenty-first-century competencies suggest that children and youth must be able to relate their schoolwork to their everyday lives as they formulate possible futures. If our youth must claim a stake in their self-understanding as learners and develop the capacity and courage to generate solutions to current as well as future dilemmas (social, cultural, environmental, ethical, technical), then their teachers must be eager, equipped, and empowered to engage on all of these levels.
Pre-service education must create more diversity in the opportunities for future teachers to grapple with exigency as a condition of life and a force that reaches into civic belonging, emerging economic landscapes, knowledge creation, and community development. Such opportunities invite new ways of organizing time and space, of relating knowledge and knowing, and of combining newcomers of all kinds with those already here. Comprehensive lists of skills and competencies will be developed as sets that overlap, compete, and interact with each other. Bearing attractive assumptions of efficiency, sufficiency, and urgency, such lists can too easily swamp the more delicate and difficult work of developing capacious minds and generous hearts. Twenty-first-century education for the public good needs teacher education that prepares teachers for the complexity of their work in a complex world.
Developing New Competencies, New Skills, and an Essential Curriculum
David Dibbon
Dean, Faculty of Education, Memorial University of Newfoundland
There is little doubt that the nature of schooling has undergone a rapid transformation in the past few decades. Once expected to prepare a small minority of students for intellectual work, today’s schools must prepare virtually all students for higher order thinking and performance skills and find ways to support diverse learners’ needs and ensure success for all. Toward this end, education systems around the world have engaged in major curriculum and structural reform, and established stronger mechanisms for measuring and reporting educational outcomes and accountability of progress. Reflecting broader changes in society at large, schools are required to involve parents and community in their decision-making processes and make provision for gender equality, cultural sensitivity, and the integration of students with special needs. Technology has revolutionized or replaced many traditional methods of instruction, and a significant body of new research has emerged around the brain, human development, and how people learn.
As a consequence of these and other changes to the school ecology, teachers’ work has intensified and the demands upon the profession have increased dramatically. For schools to carry out their mission, all educators must possess the necessary knowledge, skills, attitudes, and dispositions to deal with the complexities of the contemporary classroom. Beyond a basic knowledge of pedagogy and curriculum, they are called upon to demonstrate many additional new competencies, such as teaching a diverse population of students, teaching literacy across the curriculum, using data effectively, engaging in action research, collaborating in school teams, and integrating technology effectively.
Our research shows that school practitioners expect new teacher graduates to possess and skilfully practice these skills and abilities at the very onset of their teaching experience.[1] There is little doubt that initial teacher education is expected to accomplish a great deal in a limited period of time, and this creates serious implications both for what gets included in and what gets omitted from the curriculum, and for how it gets presented.
In recent years an argument has emerged for the development of an “essential teacher education curriculum”,[2] focusing on developmentally appropriate practices, learning theories, language development, social context of education, subject matter expertise and pedagogical content knowledge, student diversity, appropriate assessment practices, and classroom management. We found evidence in our research to support this notion.
By all accounts, teacher education candidates view the practica as the most relevant, exciting, and useful learning they encounter in their teacher education program. In Canada, the practicum experience is a major source of the variation among teacher education programs; they vary in total length of time, the number and duration of placements, the timing of the placements, how and by whom they are supervised, and how they are evaluated. I agree with those who argue that this opportunity for deliberate practices is a key element in acquiring instructional expertise, and there is merit to increasing the length of time allocated to the practica.[3] However, increasing the practica will only be effective if there are well-defined standards of practice and performance for use in guiding and evaluating clinical work, if there is close supervision and monitoring of the practicum, and if the clinical experience is closely interwoven with coursework.
Where this occurs, students are better prepared to make sense of the ideas, theories, and concepts addressed in their academic work, and as student teachers they are better able to see the interface between theory and practice. This approach reduces the practice-theory gap that has haunted teacher education programs for years.
EN BREF – Les éducateurs et les responsables de politiques préconisent de plus en plus l’acquisition de compétences du 21e siècle, car plusieurs facteurs militent en ce sens : la recherche sur l’apprentissage, l’omniprésence des technologies de l’information et des communications et la mondialisation dans toutes ses formes. Que signifie enseigner au 21e siècle pour les personnes qui préparent les jeunes à faire carrière en enseignement? Comment la profession d’enseignant change-t-elle? Comment les facultés d’éducation devraient-elles adapter leurs programmes préparatoires à l’emploi? Nous avons demandé à quatre doyens en éducation du pays de commenter les changements actuels et à venir, ainsi que le rôle qu’ils attribuent à la formation des enseignants en fonction des exigences du nouveau siècle.
[1]R. Crocker and D. Dibbon, Teacher Education in Canada: A Baseline Study (Kelowna, BC: Society for the Advancement of Excellence in Education, 2008).
[2]J. Bransford, S. Derry, D. Berliner, K. Hammerness, and K. L. Beckett, “Theories of Learning and their Roles in Teaching in Preparing Teachers for a Changing World, eds. L. Darling-Hammond and J. Bransford (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2005).
[3]L. Darling-Hammond, K. Hammerness, and J. Bransford, (with D. Berliner, M. Cochran-Smith, M. McDonald, and K. Zeicher, ), “How Teachers Learn and Develop” in Teaching in Preparing Teachers for a Changing World, eds. L. Darling-Hammond and J. Bransford (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2005).
Since reading Westley, Zimmerman and Quinn-Patton’s Getting to Maybe: How the World is Changed (2006), I’ve found myself looking at educational change in a lot of new ways. The authors ask a lot of compelling questions, but one in particular really stuck with me: “What is holding the system in its status quo?”
All organizations have a tendency to hold on to some things even if after they’ve stopped serving their original purpose. Could the way we organize time in schools be one of the things we’re holding onto in education? Might the relationships between time and teaching and learning be holding the status quo in place in school systems despite years of educational change efforts?
Since the early days of public schooling the school day has been driven by time. Many years ago we might have been able to argue that schools were organized in ways that fit with conventional knowledge about how young people learn. Our knowledge about learning has grown immensely since the turn of the twentieth century and yet the school day, especially in high schools, looks very much the same as it did 100 years ago.
In November I had the pleasure of working with staff from 16 high schools participating in Alberta’s High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot. This innovative project was designed to address tensions between contemporary beliefs about learning expressed in Alberta’s curriculum and the practice of funding all credits on the basis of the Carnegie Unit of 25 hours of face-to-face instructional time per credit. Carnegie Units took hold across North America as a system for accrediting and funding high school credits in the early 1900s. By releasing 16 high schools from policy requirements built around this unit, Alberta Education will discover, among other things, if they continue to hold educational value in the 21st century.
Through the pilot project, a diverse group of high schools (large and small, urban and rural, French and English-language) are exploring the relationship between hours of face-to-face instruction and student success (e.g. achievement, engagement, school completion) and the merits of various innovative high school designs for teaching and learning. Over the course of the three-year pilots (2011-2013) students, parents and staff at each school will work together closely to develop an approach to school organization that does not necessarily equate time with credit.
The project’s leader – Gerry Fijal – and participating schools are currently finalizing an evaluation plan for the project that will include What did you do in school today? measures of social, institutional and intellectual engagement. Outcomes of the project will likely be available in 2013, but regular updates will be posted on the project website where you can also find a copy of the literature review written to stimulate thinking about innovative practices for high school redesign including,
What do you think might be holding up the status quo in our school systems? Are you exploring innovative ideas to disrupt policies or practices that might not be working anymore in your district or region? If you are, share your ideas here and look back here in a few weeks to see others that I’m learning about through What did you do in school today?
Federal “Race to the Top” funding in the US is supporting new iPad initiatives from New York to California in the latest rendition of one-to-one laptop programs. Will this cheaper, smaller, simpler device finally bring computer technology into the educational mainstream? The advocates predict big things, but the New York Times quotes Larry Cuban as saying that “There is very little evidence that kids learn more, faster or better by using these machines.”
If the idea is that technology will engage and motivate students, this will be a costly flash in the pan that fades and fails as the novelty wears off. However, the iPad (and the parade of rivals that will soon be introduced at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas this week) clearly represents an new threshold and not just a smaller laptop like the netbook so perhaps this really is the time that technology finally takes hold and goes to scale in education. What will it take (other than money) for that to happen?
Whatever the technology horse, the educational cart remains the same. What it is carrying (the content) and the destination (the intended outcomes) may change but the task of engaging students and supporting learning remains the same. Research done by CEA (see the What Did You Do In School Today report on this web site) indicates that student engagement is generally low and that it drops off after elementary school with only a minor recovery in the last year of schooling.
Unless students are intellectually engaged, which is a purely voluntary matter over which they have complete control, their learning will at most be superficial. Once engaged, they will learn but they will learn in different ways and at different rates, and they will be developmentally ready to learn various things at different times.
A teacher’s most fundamental task is to meet the challenges of engagement for a diverse group of students within the batch-processing model of education that arose as a factory analog within the Industrial Age, and thus to enable and energize students’ learning. Computer technology, and the iPad in particular, have great potential for meeting these challenges, but only if used within curricular conceptions, and to support instructional approaches, that directly and intentionally address the challenge of engagement within diversity. Technological titillation alone will not do the job.
IPad projects, and the laptop initiatives that preceded them, face other challenges of course – for example, teacher training, technological infrastructure and sustainable funding to keep technology functioning and up to date – but how to engage students in ways that respond to and support their diverse interests, styles and abilities remains the fundamental issue. This is the question that the iPad must answer if it is to deliver its enormous promise.
Many drivers have now traded in their rather thick, dog-eared map books for the more compact, efficient and fun-to-use GPS receiver. Not only does the availability of voice command technology replace the need for reading complex maps while driving, many GPS devices can also direct you to local points of interest, drastically reduce time spent asking for directions, as well as the embarrassment of admitting that you’re lost (particularly useful for those of us who hate stopping to ask for directions)!
Like many new technologies, a GPS receiver is so simple to use that we are sometimes oblivious to how complex the inner workings of the system actually are, and what is required to make it work with such accuracy and efficiency. There are, however, a couple of important and somewhat fascinating things about this technology that—you guessed it—may be helpful in a metaphorical way as we continue down the road to educational transformation.
First, the GPS device in your car must receive signal information from at least 4 of the 24 working Global Positioning Satellites that circle the earth every day. The receiver collects and compares the data in order to determine where on the Earth’s surface you are standing. Without information from several different sources, an accurate reading would not be possible.
The second important thing has to do with the information that is held by the receiver itself. Although a GPS receiver does not actually send a signal, it does have a pre-loaded map of the area in which you’re traveling in its memory. As the signal is received the GPS receiver overlays your location data onto the map, allowing the device to provide turn-by-turn directions. This also makes more complex calculations of speed and time of arrival possible (and invaluable!) As I discovered in driving through a fairly new set of subdivisions, however, it is essential that an accurate and current map of the area is loaded into your GPS devices.
In addition to the everyday utility of GPS devices, especially for those who travel a great deal in unfamiliar territories, the way the technology works provides some powerful metaphorical tools for thinking about educational change.
First, I would argue that the education of a Canadian citizenry is a much more contentious enterprise than it was 50 years ago. Our society has matured to the point where the sheer complexity of life both inside and outside the schoolhouse has increased immensely. As educators, and as those who make policy for educators, we need a set of tools to help keep us on track and headed in the right direction.
Beyond that, however, thinking about change through the lens of the GPS metaphor suggests at least two other important questions. First, are we using more than one or two sources of data to make decisions about future paths, or are we limiting the source and type of information that we are collecting? If, for example, our policy decisions are being made by looking at just one type of annual test, no matter how well constructed it may be, we run the risk of being misguided, if not misinformed. For sure, we are living in data-drenched educational communities, but how diverse are the forms of data that are being collected and used for decision-making? Lots more to say here!
The second question that emerges from the GPS metaphor has to do with accuracy and relevance of the maps and models that are being used to guide our vision of this place called school. A great deal of new and exciting research on learning, brain function and effective teaching has been done in the past 15-20 years. Couple that with the way that technology has transformed ways and means of communication, interaction and collaboration and you suddenly have a multitude of new paths and avenues that needed to be added to our map! Yet again, there seems to be a great deal of reluctance to explore how these new ideas and technologies might take us in a whole new direction.
Like GPS technology, data in the absence of accurate and detailed visions of all of the routes open to us in terms of educating our young people is simply going to get us lost, frustrated and late for the 21st century. Perhaps, alongside the development of better positioning tools, we need to begin in earnest the work of remapping the educational landscape so that our data collection projects might lead us to new and valuable places.
Are we there yet?
Descriptive assessment that helps learners and their parents understand what they can do and what they are aspiring to be able to do is a powerful lever for learning.
In British Columbia, teacher-developed tools that serve just this purpose are available from the Ministry for optional use in reading, writing, numeracy, social responsibility, ICT integration and Healthy Living (http://www.bced.gov.bc.ca/perf_stands/) and an ad hoc task force formed by a consortium of school districts is in the late stages of developing similar standards for science (). (If you know of other similar resources that are available to teachers in Canada, I would love to hear about them.)
These standards are descriptions of the stages of intended learning outcomes that have been developed so that teachers do not each have to develop assessment criteria themselves. They are most effective when shared with students and parents as the basis for assessment and reporting, which improves communication and enables self-assessment.
Criterion-referenced assessment, as it is called, measures student learning against expectations rather than by comparing students to each other (which is known as norm-referenced assessment, or ‘grading on the curve’). Explicit expectations stated in advance make learning goals clear and assessment more transparent and understandable.
If resources such as those I have mentioned do not pertain to the specific learning activities being undertaken, teachers can develop criteria themselves, or collaboratively with their class, in advance. This helps students know what they are trying to achieve and ensures that they will understand the assessment provided by the teacher during and after the activity. It also helps them to take more responsibility for and assess their own learning.
Criterion-referenced assessment does not eliminate the subjectivity that is inherent in all grading (including those with the illusion of objectivity like math and science exams), but it goes a long way towards making assessment consistent, transparent and meaningful for students and parents.
And it certainly makes more sense that just totaling up the quiz scores and turning them into a percentage. This produces a grade alright but it doesn’t help the student know what they are doing well or where they are expected to improve – which is the primary purpose of assessment.
‘Grouping’ by ability, or ‘tracking’, or ‘streaming’ means that students are placed into groups defined by their ability levels. Students may be grouped by ability either for a subject (for example for mathematics or reading) or for all or almost all their instruction. Students’ assignment to an ability group may be temporary, changing during the year, or relatively permanent.
Advocates of grouping by ability claim that it can raise achievement standards since teachers can target their instruction and use resources more effectively. However, researchers have shown that grouping by ability can have adverse effects on students’ attitudes towards schooling and their self-esteem. Studies on ability grouping show inequitable outcomes and social consequences:
Research suggests that students in non-grouped settings, especially for those with lower achievement, have more healthy and positive attitudes towards school than students in grouped settings.
Researchers advocate using mixed grouping and reducing ability grouping in schools, but more important is to focus on improving instruction and curriculum for students of all achievement levels.
CEA and the Ontario Institute in Studies in Education (OISE) have teamed up to provide you with relevant and timely information based on current empirical educational research. The primary goal of this project is to get relevant and needed research into the hands of parents and other interested people. Five blurbs will be posted to our website throughout the 2009-2010 academic year. They will be written in plain language on topics of interest to parents, such as homework and class size.
Additional Resources
Research References Informing this Issue
Boaler, J., William, D., and Brown, M. (2000). Students’ Experiences of Ability Grouping: Disaffection, Polarisation and the Construction of Failure. British Educational Research Journal, 26(5): 631-648.
Eder, D. (1981). Ability Grouping as a Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: A Micro-Analysis of Teacher-Student Interaction. Sociology of Education, 54(3): 151-162.
Gamoran, A. (1993). Alternative Uses of Ability Grouping in Secondary Schools: Can We Bring High-Quality Instruction to Low-Ability Classes? American Journal of Education, 102(1): 1-22.
Gamoran, A. (1992). Synthesis of Research: Is Ability Grouping Equitable? Educational Leadership, 50(2): 11-17.
Hoffer, T.B. (1992). Middle School Ability Grouping and Student Achievement in Science and Mathematics. Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis, 14(3): 205-227.
Ireson, J. and Hallam, S. (1999). Raising Standards: Is Ability Grouping the Answer? Oxford Review of Education, 25(3): 343-358.
If students, or their parents, wait anxiously for their first report card each year to know how they are doing, there is something seriously wrong. Report cards should simply be a formal confirmation of what everyone already knows because they have been getting informative feedback from their teacher and self-assessing throughout the term.
Assessment and evaluation are not synonyms. Assessment is the gathering of information about what students know and are learning, and how and what they are thinking. It is descriptive, not judgmental, and is intended to provide feedback to the teacher and the student. Assessment should be continuous and interwoven with instruction. Evaluation is a judgment, based on the comparison of assessment information to an expected standard, about the quality of a student’s demonstrated learning. It occurs periodically for the purposes of formal reporting. Evaluation serves a purpose but it does little to benefit learning.
Assessment takes many forms, beginning with the moment to moment observations that a teacher makes about student thinking as they interact with them and also includes review of assignments and marking of quizzes and tests. The things that teachers notice in day-to-day interaction with students provide the richest source of information and the most useful one for purposes of feedback that the teacher can use to adjust the pace and content of instruction, and that the student can use to better understand his or her learning and how to improve it. Planning for instruction should include frequent opportunities for teachers to informally assess student thinking and for students to self-assess. Quizzes and tests have a role to play but are inadequate on their own.
Embedded assessment and feedback is an essential part of instruction. If instruction were simply one-way it could be done using a video by a skilled lecturer. The professionalism of teaching comes in creating interactive learning activities that adapt to student responses and thus serve the unique learning abilities and needs of the particular learners in the class. Computers can deliver great lectures, but they are not yet capable of the keen observation, informed intuition and tactful guidance that a skilled teacher can provide in interaction with students.
Continuous descriptive, constructive and encouraging feedback to students, both formal and informal, is the reporting that really benefits learning, not the report card. That should be merely a consolidation and confirmation of what has already been said.
The change from assessment of learning to assessment for learning is happening across Canada. If you are making this change, or if your child’s teacher is making this change, tell me how its going and what you find works. Or perhaps you don’t agree with this change. If not, tell me why.
You’re invited to check out Teaching Out Loud, CEA’s new podcast initiative. It’s an initiative designed to raise the voices of passionate and innovative teachers across Canada.
I know from personal experience that teachers are often spoken about, spoken for but, we’re not often spoken to when it comes to conversations about policy, ideology, and what happens on a day-to-day basis in our schools. Yet the voice of the teacher is so vital to any discussion about educational transformation and change.
So, each month, Teaching Out Loud will focus on another thread in the complex educational tapestry, featuring the voices of real teachers from across Canada. You’re invited to participate by listening to the podcast and then dropping in here to join the conversation! Think of the podcast as a story starter, and this blogspace as the next step in the writing process.
This month, Teaching Out Loud begins with some questions for all teachers, each of them centering on the main theme:
“So, what brings you here?”
What influenced your decision to become a teacher? Were there specific experiences that you had that got you thinking about a teaching career? Were there people in your life that inspired you to consider the profession? Are the things that initially brought you to teaching the things that keep you coming back?
You know, in a great deal of the public discourse about the teaching profession, teachers are often presented as this huge monolithic organism–one that thinks in one way, moves in one way and reacts in one way. Those of us spend any time hanging around schools know that nothing could be farther from the truth. I’m hoping that, in featuring the voices of individuals, Teaching Out Loud might help to challenge this idea and help to create some a new space for expression.
So, let’s get it started! Listen to the very first episode of Teaching Out Loud as I speak with teachers David Wees, Julia Rheaume and Auni Boghossian. Then tell us your story!
Remember, a lot can happen when you’re Teaching Out Loud!
Student report cards as commonly written do far more harm than good. We would all be better off without them. Students would be more focussed on learning, parents would be better informed and educators would be more appropriately accountable.
Letter grades are at the root of the disservice that report cards do because meaningful information about learning cannot be reduced to a letter grade. (Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous idea that anyone’s learning can be assessed to an accuracy of 1%.) Nonetheless, policy requires that teachers produce them, and then parents and students attribute unintended meanings according to their own assumptions. Many believe that letter grades indicate a student’s position in the class relative to the average – “A” being well above average and therefore a matter of pride, whereas anything less than “C” is cause for concern – despite the fact that comparative assessment is contrary to best practice and grading policies across Canada.
Consider a student who writes a cogent and convincing expository essay but is careless with conventions such as spelling and sentence structure. S/he might be given a “B” due to those shortcomings, and a student whose writing adheres strictly to the conventions but whose thoughts are not as well organized and expressed might also get a “B.” These students are as different as chalk and cheese, but the letter grade make them look similar.
What should a student do in order to improve his or her letter grade? Just try harder? A letter grade conveys no information at all about current strengths or learning needs, and thus leaves enormous room for both student and parent to make misleading interpretations. Letter grades sort but they don’t report.
There are clearly superior ways of reporting on student learning. They are well-known and widely – but not commonly – practiced. Student-led reporting based on portfolios of student work, for example, can be a richly informative process. If a formal written report is required, including the intended learning outcomes and providing descriptive feedback based on those outcomes is far more informative than just a letter grade and yet even when such information is provided students and parents tend to skip right over it to get to the letter grade in the mistaken belief that tells the real story.
There are, of course, logistical challenges to anecdotal reporting and educators need to learn how to use plain language for it to be effective, but when the current approach is clearly inadequate surely it is worth tackling those challenges. So why don’t we?
Or perhaps you are making changes to improve report cards, or you are receiving effective report cards. If so, let me know what is working for you.
A few months ago Max Cooke and I had a chance to discuss student voice in the education sector. It is an idea that’s swept across the country, but maybe without us fully noticing its potential as a “game changer” in our school systems. We shared our thoughts in the latest edition of Education Canada and I was excited to see Carmen Meyett’s comments about our article and the work the student council at Quinte Secondary School is doing to become leaders in listening to and responding to what is important to their peers.
In her comments Carmen asks an important question: How are you making sure the student voice is heard? I’d like to take Carmen’s question a few steps further: What are you going to do with students’ ideas and opinions once you’ve heard them? Are we sure we’re not missing a critical part of the puzzle of change if we consult with students and leave all of the decision-making to educators?
CEA recently had a chance to bring these questions to students and educators at the York Region District School Board’s annual Quest for Student Achievement Conference. In our presentation – Students: Agents of Change – we talked about the differences between student voice and student involvement and with help from nine students at Sir Robert Borden Junior High School in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia we got to the important question: What difference does it make when students and teachers both have meaningful roles in decision making?
This short video – created from an hour-long focus group with the school’s student leadership team – illustrates how thoughtful leadership from staff and students at a school can have an impact on school culture and learning environments. This is a video that needs little introduction because the students say it all and as you’ll see at the end leave us to think about our role in creating meaningful opportunities not just for voice, but involvement and leadership.
Students Speak About the Benefits of Student Voice and Involvement from Jodene Dunleavy on Vimeo.
… for an overnight trip in grade 9 when I wasn’t even out yet we had random room assignments and I really didn’t know my two roommates. The two of them spread throughout school that they didn’t want to be in a room with me because I would probably try to rape them. I’m going to try to rape them? Please. But that was the stupid, rude assumption they were spreading – and not just about me either but about all gay people – and it made me feel bad about myself. The girls then went to school administration and said they shouldn’t have to room with me. The administration chose to reassign me and allow them a room of their own. That was how administrators handled the situation! What if I had said something about one of the girls’ race or something, something which I would never do, but what if I had? Administrators would have challenged my racism as they should have and as I know they did at that school. But they chose not to challenge homophobia … why not? Are they not teachers?
Katie
People at my first junior high school treated me so shitty and made so many comments I couldn’t concentrate on school-work and struggled academically. The teacher and principal they were like “what’s happening to you is not OK but we can’t control all the bullying … it’s going to happen.” They were way too right because all the time there it did happen and all the time there my grades sucked bad.
Ryan [1]
Gay Houston teen beaten with metal pipe after principals, bus driver ignore his pleas for help.[2]
As these quotations illustrate, publicly-funded schools in North America are often scary and dangerous places for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, and questioning (GBLTQ) youth. Moreover, many teens suggest, in fact, that the adults (teachers, administrators, bus drivers, etc.) charged with ensuring their safety and learning often do little to promote their acceptance by and safety among their peers.
Recent research from Equality for Gays and Lesbians Everywhere (Egale) Canada shows that change is happening in some regions, where schools and school divisions have developed safe-schools policies and procedures that explicitly address homophobia and when students and parents are aware of these policies and their power. But for more widespread change to occur, we believe that educators need preparation to become more sensitized to GBLTQ teen issues and equipped with the empathy, knowledge, and skills to support and protect these marginalized students in their care. Infusing pink issues, in a meaningful way, into pre-service teacher education programs is one critical way to contribute to these educators’ preparation.
The goal of this short article is to describe a sample of pink initiatives undertaken in the Faculty of Education at the University of Prince Edward Island. These initiatives are reflective of principles that guide the Faculty’s work:
The University of Prince Edward Island Faculty of Education strives in all its actions to:
Additional Background and Rationale for our Initiatives
Beyond this mission statement, there is a body of research that substantiates the need for teacher education around GBLTQ issues. For example, Egale Canada conducted an online survey with 1,700 youth across Canada.[4] A large majority of participants who identify as GBLTQ reported feeling unsafe at school, and even half of the straight participants agreed that at least one part of their school is unsafe for GBLTQ students. One in four “out” lesbian, gay, and bisexual students had been physically harassed about their sexual orientation. Many GBLTQ participants reported that staff never intervened when homophobic comments were made at school. Forty percent of GBLTQ participants reported that they would not be comfortable talking to their teachers, 60 percent would not talk to their principal and 70 percent would not talk to their sports coach about GBLTQ issues.
This report also refers to GBLTQ participants and suicide. Indeed, the mental health field has argued that GBLTQ teens face significantly higher risks and incidence of mental health issues, including suicidal thoughts and attempts, than other teens. Recent research conducted at McGill University with 1,856 youth aged 14 years and older confirms this.[5]
Moreover, some studies have been conducted with teachers and school administrators to assess their comfort addressing GBLTQ issues schools, how safe they feel doing so, and how often they do so.[6] It is clear that teachers feel unprepared to address these issues with students. All authors call for safe-school policies and for increased attention to GBLTQ issues in teacher education programs. This is also the intention of this article.
We have found that the use of talking circles, inspired by Aboriginal communities, have been helpful in promoting a sense of safety in speaking about sensitive issues such as gender and sexual orientation.
The Initiatives[7]
The initiatives have been inspired by principles of transformative pedagogy.[8] Some of the activities also include strategies that draw on techniques from a pedagogy of discomfort.[9] Foucauldian notions of truth-telling are also foundational to our approach.[10] Familiarizing students with critical thinkers, like Foucault, encourages them to question taken-for-granted truth claims that surround not only sexuality but other domains, as well. However, sometimes truth-telling is painful and even intimidating for students. We have found that the use of talking circles, inspired by Aboriginal communities, have been helpful in promoting a sense of safety in speaking about sensitive issues such as gender and sexual orientation.
The initiatives have been implemented principally in three courses in the second year of our two-year Bachelor of Education program. During the first year of this program, students also complete a course in inclusive education which exposes them to students with a variety of differences (from the norm). This course focuses on teaching and learning for all students, no matter their abilities or differences. In second year courses focusing on child and/or adolescent development and on culture and society, we have had success with three activities.
In the first, we unpack gender identity and sexual orientation. Students are given two sticky dots. The males get one colour and the females another. On the whiteboard, or on a large piece of paper on the floor, we draw two horizontal lines. At opposite ends of the first line we write male and female. Students are asked to reflect on where they situate themselves along this male-female continuum. They come forward, anonymously, and place their dots along the line. At the same time, they also place their second dot along a sexual attraction continuum. Students place their dots towards the male end of the continuum if they are uniquely or more attracted to men and towards the female end of the continuum if they are attracted to women. Once all dots are placed, students are asked to do a free-write about their feelings and observations of the placement of the dots. This is followed by a discussion of stereotypes associated with gender identity and how society “others” those who do not conform to typical, expected male or female traits. This inevitably leads to a discussion of students’ sexual experimentation and their own struggles and assumptions relating to sexual orientation. We have also had fascinating discussions that examine why almost all of the males in our classes seem hesitant to admit anything but total maleness and total straightness during these activities, while we have observed much more variability amongst the women.[11] These discussions take place in an Aboriginal talking circle using a talking stick or similar object that assigns the speaker the “floor”, and others respect and listen attentively to their colleagues as they speak.
In a second activity, students work in groups to brainstorm as many labels as possible that they have used or heard to refer to GBLTQ individuals. Most of these labels are derogatory (e.g., puff, cocksucker). It is fascinating to hear students talk about their discomfort writing down some of these terms. Other students have never heard of some of the terms and cannot believe what they are learning. Many students talk about their shame because they are guilty of “othering” and bullying peers that they had suspected were gay or lesbian during their public school years. A few students have the courage to share what it felt like during their public schooling to be called such names.
As a gay teacher educator myself, I (Miles Turnbull) always share such stories and also talk confidently about calling myself a “big ole fruit” or “queen”. Students are often taken aback, in a positive and reflective way, by stories of the empowerment of the marginalized who appropriate the derogatory language used by others to marginalize and bully them. I always ensure that discussions focus on what to do in schools when students direct this language towards their peers. There are at least three goals associated with this activity: 1) to increase awareness of youth language that future teachers should be aware of; 2) to unpack the discomfort and shame students feel when they realize the pain that others can feel when such nasty terms are directed towards them; 3) to encourage these future teachers to have the courage to challenge their students who engage in “othering” and bullying using this derogatory language, be it in the classroom, in the hallways, or on the school bus.
In the third activity, I have told my story of schooling as a young gay male in Prince Edward Island schools. I and other instructors have also invited gay or lesbian friends to class to share their stories. In all cases, the speakers share intimate, real, and sometimes painful stories about how they were bullied at school, how many teachers and administrators ignored the bullying, how they tried to hide and escape the pain by keeping busy with academics or by excelling in sports. I always talk about pretending I was straight because I was supposed to. I reflect on my experiences in an international school where it was okay for me to be “out” and for me to talk about gender identity and sexual orientation with my friends – this educational institution and the educators there changed my life. I talk about almost getting married to a woman, and how a good friend convinced me that this would be disastrous for her and for me. I share the tragedy of my first lover’s suicide.
Following stories such as these, students share their reactions to the stories in a talking circle. Some remain silent. In many instances, this sharing leads students to talk about their own friends and family members who have struggled. They often talk about students they witnessed in schools during their practica, and this becomes an opportunity to tackle head-on how these future teachers can become advocates for students in their schools. We share resources from websites and talk about safe-school policies. We can only hope that some of our students become change agents in the schools where they will teach.
If they are not willing to take this time, to accept all students as they are, and to create safety for all students in their care, then maybe teaching is not the best career choice for them.
Discussion
We intentionally used the term “infusion” in the title of this article. We believe that it is crucial to avoid one-off workshops on GBLTQ issues. It takes significant time to help future teachers unpack their own beliefs, attitudes, and personal experiences with gender identity and sexual orientation before they feel ready to embark into schools as advocates for their GBLTQ students. But as we tell students during the kind of sharing described above, if they are not willing to take this time, to accept all students as they are, and to create safety for all students in their care, then maybe teaching is not the best career choice for them.
Although we could do much more during the teacher education program, GBLTQ issues are examined in at least three courses over the two years. All Faculty members are also encouraged to infuse principles of social justice and inclusion for all students in every course. After all, as one eloquent research participant, and then his mother, in Hilton’s current research project state:
People at my new school were way more open-minded, like somehow staff were “dialed” about gay issues. I figure either someone had come out there before or else the teachers had really paid attention at some training seminar somewhere (Ryan, from Hilton, 2010).
The two years Ryan spent in the new school were phenomenal. I couldn’t have asked for more supportive partners to help him come into his own personally and academically. But don’t get the impression there was no homophobia there because there was. The difference was the number of people who stood up to it starting with the school leadership (Brenda, from Hilton, 2010).
We are hopeful that our initiatives can make a difference.
EN BREF – Les écoles publiques nord-américaines sont souvent des lieux angoissants et dangereux pour les jeunes gais, lesbiennes, bisexuels, transsexuels et en questionnement (GLBTQ). De nombreux adolescents indiquent que les adultes chargés d’assurer leur sécurité et leur apprentissage font souvent très peu pour favoriser leur acceptation et leur sécurité parmi leurs pairs. Les éducateurs ont besoin de préparation afin d’être sensibilisés aux questions d’identité sexuelle des adolescents et développer l’empathie, les connaissances et les compétences requises pour soutenir et protéger ces élèves marginalisés dont ils sont en charge. La faculté d’éducation de l’Université de l’Île-du-Prince-Édouard a lancé des initiatives dans le cadre de ses programmes de formation des enseignants afin d’aider les nouveaux enseignants à exposer leurs propres croyances, attitudes et expériences personnelles d’identité et d’orientation sexuelle et de les préparer à devenir les défenseurs de leurs élèves GLBTQ.
[1] T. Hilton, “Queering Freedom: Schooling Experiences of ‘Out’ Youth and Their Parents on Prince Edward Island.” Paper presented at the Annual Conference of the Canadian Society for Studies in Education, Concordia University, Montreal, 2010.
[2] www.dallasvoice.com/gay-houston-teen-beaten-with-metal-pipe-after-principals-bus-driver-ignore-his-pleas-for-help-108758.html
[3] www.upei.ca/education/mission-statement-goals-and-history
[4] C. Taylor and T. Peter, Youth Speak Up about Homophobia and Transphobia: The First National Climate Survey on Homophobia in Canadian Schools Phase One Report (Winnipeg, Egale Canada Human Rights Trust, 2009). Retrieved from http://egale.ca/extra/CG_Taylor__Climate_Survey__Phase_One_Report.pd
[5] Y. Zhao, R. Montoro, K. Igartua, and B. Thombs, “Suicidal Ideation and Attempt Among Adolescents Reporting ‘Unsure’ Sexual Identity or Heterosexual Identity Plus Same-Sex Attraction or Behavior: Forgotten Groups?” Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry 49, no. 2 (2010): 104-113; also see www.youth-suicide.com/gay-bisexual/#suicide-updates for reference to many more studies relating to suicide and GBLTQ youth.
[6] M. Schneider and A. Dimito, “Educators’ Beliefs about Raising Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Issues in the Schools: The Experience in Ontario, Canada,” Journal of LGBT Youth 5, no. 4 (2008): 49-71; J. B. Mayo, “Negotiating Sexual Orientation and Classroom Practice(s) at School,” Theory and Research in Social Education 35, no. 3 (2007): 447-464; K. M. Harbeck, ed., Coming Out of the Classroom Closet: Gay and Lesbian Students, Teachers, and Curricula (New York, NY: Harrington Park Press, 1992).
[7] The initiatives described here have been collaboratively developed and implemented with colleagues, Fiona Walton and Sandy McAuley. I am grateful to them for “pushing” my boundaries as a second language teacher educator. The work I describe briefly here has been very meaningful and rewarding for me.
[8] Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed (New York: Continuum, 1970; 2007).
[9] M. Zembylas and M. Boler. “On the Spirit of Patriotism: Challenges of a ‘Pedagogy of Discomfort,’” Teachers’ College Record, Special Online Issue on Education and September 11, Fall 2002.
[10] M. Foucault, The Use of Pleasure: Volume 2 of The History of Sexuality, trans. Robert Hurley (New York: Random House, 1985).
[11] As in most teacher education programs across Canada, the males are outnumbered significantly by the females. On average, only 15% of our students in the Bachelor of Education program are male.
The line I want to take in this article is that how we position young people has a profound bearing on how we deal with them, both in terms of policy and practically. In doing this, I want to draw upon some of the issues that have emerged from my own research with young people in Australia over the past two decades or so. The young people I have worked with are predominantly from backgrounds where they, their families, and their communities have been put at a disadvantage through the effects of social, economic, and political forces and by the flow-on effects of globalization that have effectively devastated their communities and lives. Their diminished educational opportunities and subsequent life chances have been dramatic, even to the point of being catastrophic. Having said that, these young people are not hapless victims, nor are they passive recipients of deficit categories like “at riskness”, placed upon them by the media, politicians, agencies, and some academics. Rather they are active agents exercising choices and making decisions about their lives in situations that amount to speaking back.
I want to explore what is happening when young people from contexts of disadvantage adopt a position of making choices against the institution of schooling that appear to be against their own long term economic interests and that may have the effect of further exacerbating their apparent marginalization. I want to reflect upon how they go about making lives for themselves while speaking back to notions of mainstream schooling and – in many cases – finding their way into alternative and more amenable forms of learning. Another way of putting this is to ask the question: what are the conditions around schooling that young people speak back against, and what are the alternative conditions they argue need to be brought into existence for them to re-connect to and become re-engaged with learning?
These young people from the most complex of backgrounds are involved in making all kinds of decisions around their own identity formation.
What is going on in young educational lives?
One thing that gets conveniently overlooked when schools are prevailed upon and assailed by so-called “reforms” from outside, driven by external agendas, is that the young people whose lives are most closely and directly affected, and who are the most intimate witnesses of schooling, are the group (along with their teachers) that is the most actively denied an official voice. There is rather an irony in all of this because in almost all other aspects of their lives these young people from the most complex of backgrounds are involved in making all kinds of decisions around their own identity formation. They are significant figures in holding families together economically through part-time work and in dealing with the complexities that come with family dysfunction and wider social fragmentation and disintegration.
A number of themes come through repeatedly and most consistently around what repels these particular young people from school and turns them into exiles from the social institution of schooling:
The upside is that, when asked, young people are very insightful and eloquent in describing the recuperative conditions that have to be created for them to re-engage with learning.
None of this is to pillory teachers or castigate schools for the predicament they find themselves in with these young people; the picture is much larger and more complex than apportioning blame in such a simplistic way. As Richard Gibboney has argued recently, these are all artefacts of the way in which “an undemocratic capitalism has brought public education to its knees”.[1] The upside to it is that, when asked, young people are very insightful and eloquent in describing the recuperative conditions that have to be created for them to re-engage with learning – and these conditions are demonstrably different from the ones that repelled them in the first place.
How can we bring young people in from the margins?
Another perplexing irony in all of this is that these young people – who are ignored, silenced, and marginalized, whose lives are ridden over, and who either self-exile themselves from schools or are propelled out of them – are the same young people who have some extremely perceptive views on the very different conditions that can and need to be created for them to learn. Again, there are some consistent themes in what they say:
What, then, are the impediments to this occurring?
Everything I have said so far sounds eminently reasonable and hardly contestable – and herein lies the major problem. There are several obstacles that present as barriers and result in significant slippage between a reasonable set of propositions and the reality of ensuring that they become deeply embedded in educational practice.
They go something like this:
Courage can be in very short supply when those in ascendant positions have to be prepared to jettison their accustomed role.
Courage can be in very short supply when those in ascendant positions have to be prepared to jettison their accustomed role, which requires them to demonstrate that they have “solutions”, that they have “can-do” policies, and that they are “results-driven” – many of which may be demonstrably wrong-headed approaches. It requires incredible courage to hold to the line that those in subaltern positions might just have important knowledge worth listening to. Approaching complex, multi-faceted questions in the more democratic and inclusive way being suggested here requires more time, can be considered to be more tedious, can appear more untidy, and may not always appear to be moving in a desirable linear direction. Anything less than the kind of political and policy re-alignment being suggested in this paper can only result in young people continuing to be sold short – and that is not a viable long-term option.
The ideas that form part of this paper come from an Australian Research Council funded project entitled Re-engaging disadvantaged young people with learning.
I express my appreciation to the ARC for its funding support and to the young people concerned for their honesty and generosity in sharing their stories.
EN BREF – Les possibilités réduites en éducation et, ensuite, dans la vie, de nombreux jeunes marginalisés sont dramatiques, au point d’être catastrophiques. Mais ces jeunes ne sont ni des victimes impuissantes, ni des porteurs passifs des étiquettes – comme « à risque » -véhiculées par des catégories de déficits et que leur apposent les médias, les politiciens, les organismes et certains chercheurs. Plutôt, ils sont des agents qui exercent des choix et qui prennent des décisions au sujet de leur vie, dans des circonstances qui équivalent à répliquer. Quand nous les écoutons, ils nous disent très clairement ce qui en fait des exilés des institutions sociales d’éducation. Ils expriment aussi des points de vue très perspicaces au sujet des conditions très différentes qui peuvent et qui doivent être créées pour leur permettre d’apprendre. Seul un réalignement sur le plan des politiques permettant aux voix des jeunes marginalisés d’être entendus et d’avoir des suites peut engendrer les changements nécessaires pour faire des écoles des lieux où ils peuvent s’engager de nouveau dans l’apprentissage.
[1] Richard Gibboney (2010) Why an undemocratic capitalism has brought public education to its knees. In J. DeVitis & L. Irwin-DeVitis (eds) Adolescent Education: A Reader. New York: Peter Lang Publishing, pp. 223-237.
In her Endnote column on the last page of this issue, Penny Milton notes that preparation for retirement as CEO of the Canadian Education Association is a prime time for reflection. Her approaching retirement is giving me cause to reflect as well – on more than two decades of shared interests, intersecting commitments, and friendship.
She has been unflagging in her dedication to public education – not as a system, but as a vehicle for reaching, teaching, and understanding Canada’s young people, and as our best hope for a more equitable, compassionate society.
I’ve had the good fortune to work with Penny in several capacities since the early 1990s, most recently as editor of this magazine for the past ten years. In every situation, I have been in awe of her ability to size up and analyze the ideas or issues before her. But a sharp mind is only as valuable as the tasks it sets for itself. Penny’s passion for young people has been the hallmark of her career. She has been unflagging in her dedication to public education – not as a system, but as a vehicle for reaching, teaching, and understanding Canada’s young people, and as our best hope for a more equitable, compassionate society.
Penny’s creative, flexible, non-dogmatic approach has brought together educators and thinkers from across the political and ideological spectrum – both in Canada and abroad. Her boundless confidence in young people themselves has empowered them to share their own truths about schools and learning in many contexts, including in the pages of this magazine.
All this is true, and others will repeat it in other words. But as Penny prepares to leave her role as CEO of CEA and as Executive Editor of Education Canada, I am most conscious of the personal support she has provided to me, as editor. I will miss her forthright advice, her vast network of contacts, her keen eye for the relevant, her willingness to brainstorm at the drop of a hat. I will even miss that feeling – at the end of a conversation – that I really couldn’t process ideas a fast as she could generate them!
I’m sure I speak for all of us involved in the production of this magazine when I say thank you and bonne chance, Penny. Stay in touch with us.
“Industrial-age schools have a structural blind spot unlike almost any other contemporary institution. This blind spot arises because the only person who could in fact reflect on how the system as a whole is functioning is the one person who has no voice in the system … the student is the one person who sees all the classes, the stress of home, the multiple conflicting messages from media and the total environment … but they have no power or standing in the system.” Peter Senge[1]
Alberta Education’s Speak Out is one initiative seeking to remedy this structural “blind spot”. Thousands of young Albertans have shared their desire for positive, respectful relationships with motivated teachers, challenging and meaningful work in the classroom, and opportunities to apply what they’re learning to real life.[2] Students shared similar calls for reform in CEA’s Imagine a school… initiative when “respect us” became the mantra for participants who were asked how school could better meet their needs .[3]
Clearly, student voice is an invaluable data source in the context of school improvement, but it’s less clear to what extent this voice has been heard. How has it impacted policy and practice? We invite students to share their opinions, but how often do we invite them to become an integral part of classroom practice and co-design their everyday experiences of learning? And yet we know that students are both willing to and highly capable of shaping decisions about the content, process, and outcomes of their learning.[4]
Increasingly, young people are demanding to know what the surveys they participate in will be used for. In the summer of 2010, for example, five Social Planning Councils in Ontario conducted youth focus groups to “test-drive” a draft survey designed to measure students’ confidence in learning and in their futures. When asked to identify effective ways of involving them as partners in school and community planning and change, the young people – many of whom are marginalized – said they were tired of being asked about things that don’t matter to them, and given empty promises of change.
Similarly, students who participated in follow-up focus groups after being surveyed in the What did you do in school today? initiative reminded us that they are often frustrated by being the objects of research without knowing its purpose – they want to know what it’s for, to see the results, and to know what impact it might have. In other words, they’d like to see a shift from student voice to student involvement.
It is this shift that Adam Fletcher articulates in The Ladder of Student Involvement in School,[5] which identifies eight steps toward increasing recognition of students as agents of change, climbing from exclusion (”adults manipulating students in decision-making”) to voice (“adult led decision-making informed by student voice”), co-design (“Student-led decision-making shared with adults”).
High school students from North Delta Secondary School in B.C. climbed beyond student voice when they conducted student-led focus groups to learn more about results from the What did you do in school today? survey and their peers’ learning experiences.[6] The resulting presentation – complete with student demographics, student views, and recommendations – helped administrators to realize the issues that students wanted resolved.[7] These students demonstrated the benefits of involving young people in a survey every step of the way – using data as a tool for democratic action that engages students in making a difference.
With a taste of critical involvement in school decision-making fresh in his mind, one Delta student asserted that 51 percent of his peers being intellectually engaged was “higher than the Canadian norm, [but] still not high enough because that’s only half of the school that’s intellectually engaged so half of the kids are still going to school because they have to – they’re just sitting back and going along for the ride.”
Educators at Dartmouth’s Sir Robert Borden Junior High School have propelled their students to the pinnacle of the student involvement ladder by involving them as equal partners in school decision-making processes. Students and teachers are building their own professional learning community to co-design learning environments that make students more interested learners.
Education lags behind other sectors, like social justice and municipal governments, where youth engagement is an integral component in program development and city planning. We know how to collect students’ ideas and opinions; now we need to get better at allowing their voices to guide us and honour the contribution that all students can make to deep meaningful change in education.
[1] P. Senge, Schools that Learn, A Fifth Discipline Fieldbook for Educators, Parents, and Everyone Who Cares About Education (New York: Doubleday/Currecy, 2000): 58.
[2] “Speak Out: The Alberta Student Engagement Initiative Year in Review 2009–2010,” Alberta Education: 38 (www.speakout.alberta.ca/LinkClick.aspx?fileticket=uwkiMK8PcH4%3d&tabid=108)
[3] K. Gould Lundy, “Imagine a school…,” Education Canada 46, no. 4 (Fall 2006): 49-53 (www.cea-ace.ca/sites/cea-ace.ca/files/EdCan-2006-v46-n4-Lundy.pdf)
[4] J. Dunleavy and P. Milton, What did you do in school today? Exploring the Concept of Student Engagement and its Implications for Teaching and Learning in Canada (Canadian Education Association, May 2009), 18,19. (https://www.edcan.ca/articles/what-did-you-do-in-school-today-exploring-the-concept-of-student-engagement-and-its-implications-for-teaching-and-learning-in-canada/)
[5] //www.soundout.org/ladder.html
[6] The What did you do in school today? survey was a modification of the pre-existing Tell Them From Me survey of The Learning Bar. CEA’s measures of Intellectual Engagement and Instructional Challenge are now available to all schools within the Tell Them From Me survey. (www.thelearningbar.com)
[7] Puneet Bhatti J. Chauhan, G. Grewal, S. Sachdeva, “Exceeding All Expectations: Student-led Initiatives in a North Delta School,” Education Canada 50, no. 1 (Winter 2010: 28-31.
I would like to talk about passion and public education.
I’m not sure if your experience is similar to mine, but I can’t recall ever having a dispassionate conversation about schools—the way they are, the way they used to be, or the way they could be as the result of reform or transformation. And this sense of passionate response has only been heightened by the release of several documentaries on the state of public education, mainly in the United States.
But it’s not passion for quality schools that I’m talking about. It’s passion in quality schools that has been on my mind of late. It’s an idea that has been front and centre for me for a while as I have struggled with others to revitalize the experience of school through a more artistic approach to teaching and learning. It’s an idea that re-emerged for me this past weekend as I sat down to watch yet another educational documentary, this one focusing mainly on the current state of education in the U.K.
In a sense, We Are the People We’ve Been Waiting For, (2009) provides a type of counter-narrative to the stories of broken, dysfunctional schools found in Davis Guggenheim’s Waiting for Superman. In We Are The People, the film’s author, Sir Ken Robinson, makes it clear that the vital question is not about how we fix our broken schools, but about how we develop a whole new approach—a whole new model—for education. After all, why try to fix something that is no longer the right tool for the job?
At the heart of We Are the People, is a call to create for our young people a place where, in addition to learning the skills and knowledge that they need to become participating citizens, they can also discover a sense of passion and a sense of purpose, not just for school, but for life—their life!
As I watched the film, I couldn’t help but think back to my own schooling. You know, in retrospect, I discovered one of my life’s great passions in Grade Five; I was ten years old. It was 1968 and the education landscape in Ontario was starting to look a little bit different. That September, I was placed in the new open concept wing of the school that I had been attending since Kindergarten. I arrived on the first day to discover that desks had been replaced by work tables, wall-to-wall carpets had been installed over the tile floors and, most intriguing for me, record players had been replaced with cassette tape recorders, each with an external microphone!
To say that this new technology was a game-changer for me would be an understatement. Instead of spending the day with foolscap paper as the main medium of communication, I was given the freedom to use the cassette recorder whenever I wanted; I was permitted to use it to record my own voice and present class work and assignments. Heck, I even did my grade five speech on the invention of the cassette tape recorder. It wasn’t long before I had basically claimed the machine as my own.
Once I had been successful in convincing my parents that I needed a tape recorder that actually belonged to me, I could usually be found in my room creating my own radio programs, novelty musical montages and news broadcasts.
Throughout the rest of my schooling, I looked for opportunities to hang out in places where recording technology was being used. I joined the A.V. team at my junior high, participated in the closed-circuit coverage of a federal election in secondary school and continued to look for ways to integrate the technology into my own class work.
When it came time to apply for post-secondary institutions, my first choice was the Radio and Television program at Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. My parents refused to consider this as an alternative because Ryerson was not considered a real university. So, I trundled off to the local campus of the University of Toronto every day for three years and eventually applied to the Faculty of Education.
People will often ask me why I didn’t apply to join the University radio station. My reason is always the same: I was afraid I wasn’t good enough. I realize now that, while school did a good job of trying to teach me the basics of math (!) and language, it wasn’t a place where my intense interest in this alternative form of communication could be nurtured and grown. That’s not what school was all about.
While I’ve had a very fulfilling career in education, I know that my true passion was revealed to me in Grade Five. It happened quite serendipitously, quite by accident. It is only now, some 42 years later that I’m actually beginning to live it!
So, how is this story connected with our current conversation on educational transformation? Well, it’s not at all connected with the push towards higher achievement as reflected in test scores or graduation rates. And it’s not connected with the cry to fix schools so that they more effectively deliver the type of education for which they were originally created. And it may not even be connected with the mandate to prepare every student for a post-secondary education.
It is, however, a story that speaks to me about schools becoming a place where passion and life can be discovered, explored and supported. It speaks about expanding, not narrowing possibilities for learners. It hints at engagement not just as something we do to students, but as something that becomes part of the energy of schools—something that enables learners to find what might continue to turn them on as they continue to move through life.
I do recognize that many secondary schools are now doing a much better job at providing programs that would have allowed me to play with my passion a little more. Our current research on engagement, however, does indicate that much of this is still considered extra and not part of the really important work of schools.
We Are The People We’ve Been Waiting For asks us to weave a different narrative thread into our story of school—one that re-defines school as a place that is equally concerned with what learners hope for after graduation, rather than just graduation, itself.
Ironically, this evening, I will be sitting in my newly completed basement studio recording my the first episode of a new CEA podcast series, Teacher Voices. At 10:00 p.m. the door will close, the On Air sign will be activated (a gift from my wife) and I will be, for the first time in my life, living out that passion that was stirred up in Grade Five.
Way more to talk about here, but I’ll pose a few questions.
Do you think that it is the role of schools to nurture this sense of passion and possibility, or are we suggesting something that is simply beyond the reach of a school’s mission?
Are you part of a school community that is on the road to this type of transformative thinking? Do you know of a school vision that embraces these values?
As always, we would love to hear from you!
Carpenters are well advised to measure twice and cut once because premature cuts can waste time and valuable materials. Similarly, educators should think twice and measure once because ill-conceived measurements can both distract and distort.
What one chooses to measure generally becomes the focus of time and attention, often to the exclusion of other topics. Thus, if one chooses to measure achievement in literacy and numeracy other subjects such as science, social studies, the Arts and Technology tend to take a back seat, let alone the more subtle issues of social-emotional learning and character development that are critical to a quality education.
The distraction caused by a narrow focus for measurement may also distort outcomes if what is measured does not represent the full array of literacy and numeracy objectives. For example, literacy tests usually include impromptu writing but not planned and edited writing, which is arguably a more important skill. They also generally omit oral communication which is critical for employment, citizenship and life in general.
Although no responsible educator would “teach to the test,” it is virtually guaranteed that the things that are measured and reported will become the focus of attention and that other things will be relegated to the margins. This unintended consequence within schools is compounded in the community when the available data is misused to generate supposed quality indices of limited scope and questionable meaning. A prime example of this disservice is the “Report Card” published by the Fraser Institute in many provinces, which is granted far too much attention and credibility, thus misinforming the public and confusing the important discussion about improving educational quality.
The decision to measure some outcome must be made with full recognition of the potential for distraction and distortion. This is not a reason to forego measurement of outcomes, but it is a reason to employ an array of indicators that span the full range of important outcomes and to ensure responsible, representative reporting and use of the data. Simply proceeding with what is easiest to measure is counterproductive because of ‘collateral damage’ due to the distraction and distortion this causes.
Educational assessment is a complex business and it is expensive to do it well. However, it is also essential. Since it is impossible to imagine funding a census assessment (i.e., all aspects for all students) that adequately represents the full range of important educational outcomes, a sampling approach that delves more deeply by using subtle and sophisticated measures (including qualitative techniques such as case studies and direct classroom observations) is the only credible way to monitor system performance and provide data that is useful for improvement. Unfortunately, while this is the most productive approach for educational purposes, it does not serve the perceived need in some quarters to provide all parents with an independent measure of their child’s learning.
Educational discourse and school improvement clearly requires an evidential foundation, but it is important that the evidence be collected in ways that adequately reflect outcomes. A good assessment program begins with well-understood questions and intentions, which are the foundation for a sophisticated program of evidence gathering, interpretation and constructive use. It does not simply measure what is easiest or draw excessive inferences from what happens to be available.
“Figures often beguile me, particularly when I have the arranging of them myself; in which case the remark attributed to Disraeli would often apply with justice and force: ‘There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.’” – Mark Twain
Why should our dialogue be “driven” by data? I certainly understand that data can provide a provocation, challenge, affirmation or contradiction that sparks dialogue – but why should it “drive” that dialogue? Data itself has no meaning, until it is organized and displayed in charts or graphs that can be interpreted, usually in multiple ways. These interpretations may usefully inform our dialogue, decisions and subsequent actions so data definitely can be valuable, but it often seems to be granted undue reverence simply because it is numerical. Although insight can derive from analysis of data, equally it can arise out of intuition and, in fact, I wonder if some analyses are not actually rationalizations subconsciously imposed on data to justify intuitive speculations.
The notion of “data-driven dialogue” was introduced to counter the perception of an excessive reliance on unjustified opinion and personal preference in educational discourse. I think this correction was required and believe there is more work to be done to reduce the aversion to data that still exists for some. However, evidence can take many forms and wisdom has many roots. All should be valued. Numerical data is only one form.
Some not only revere numerical data but argue that data is only useful if it is derived from the self-declared “gold standard” of randomized controlled trial methodology – for example, the American government’s What’s Working Clearinghouse has this bias. This fanaticism arises from a hyper-rational perspective on human experience. Positivist science can be highly informative, but I cannot imagine why one would not also welcome the insights that have been distilled from experience through more qualitative processes.
At the school level, richer insights will arise through triangulation based on multiple methods than through any one avenue alone. Data should be used to inform our dialogue at every opportunity but it does not speak for itself. Data is created through an imperfect and incomplete recording and codification of experience and only acquires meaning through fallible human interpretation.
It is in this interpretive process and in the subsequent discussion of what to do about what one has learned that dialogue is required, and this dialogue is the process through which understanding is constructed and commitment to action develops. Data informs the dialogue but does not determine its outcomes. The insights, questions and perspectives that teachers bring to the interpretive process are the source of its power and consequence as much as the data that instigates the dialogue.
So let’s not let data drive us, but also let’s not denigrate it. Professional dialogue is more powerful when it is informed by evidence of all sorts, including numerical data, as well as the intuition and wisdom of experience.
I left this week’s CEA/SCOPE public forum, Achieving Equity in Education: What Can Schools Do? thinking about levers. If you think back to your elementary science classes, you’ll remember that levers are a type of simple machine that, when added to a system, will multiply the effort used in order to lift a load.
As SCOPE’s Prudence L. Carter, one of the panelists at the forum, began her opening remarks about equity in education, she posed the question, “What are the levers that allow us to move towards greater equity?” She went on to explore the question by suggesting four: standards, reliable data systems, teacher quality, and effective strategies for low performers.
The idea is that, if we continue to integrate appropriate sources of leverage into our school systems, then all students, especially those marginalized by virtue of race, gender, socio-economic status, and special learning needs will be raised to new and acceptable levels of success.
When you begin to explore the metaphor of leverage a little deeper, a few important details begin to emerge—details that could have a great impact on how we view the role of the school in the achievement of equity.
First, a lever is necessarily a very rigid object. In fact, its value comes from its inherent lack of flexibility.
Implication: Whatever levers we decide are going to allow us to do the work of public schooling more effectively and efficiently must have a certain rigorous quality to them. They need to be well-considered, well-researched, and very well-implemented. Once we decide to use a lever within the system, we have to commit to using it!
Second, a fulcrum is a point around which the whole system turns. Without a fulcrum, your lever is really just a big stick. Oh, you can still use it within your system, but it is likely to become more of a disciplinary tool to keep things in line, then it is for any mechanical advantage.
Implication: I’m not convinced that current public school systems are centrally focused on the marginalized. We’ve done a good job of writing policies, programs and protocols that talk about our fundamental commitment to all students, but those who are immersed in equity issues know that equity policy does not easily translate into equitable practice. There is still a huge gap in what we write and how we think and act when it comes to those who have been traditionally disadvantaged by schooling.
Finally, in a physical system it matters a great deal where the fulcrum is placed. Greater advantage will be gained if the fulcrum is closer to that which is to be elevated than it is to the source of effort.
Implication: If we are going to really get serious about our success for all mantras, we must ensure that the majority of our resources remain close to those whom we serve. Spending too much time and money on things unconnected with the day-to-day lives of our students will always result in loss of energy throughout the entire system.
In her latest blog entry on this topic, Penny Milton made a very poignant observation:
While more affluent children may be successful in spite of their school experience children from poorer homes or neighbourhoods are more likely to depend on schools for their academic success. (emphasis added)
It’s time to ensure that our fulcrum is well-defined—that point around which our entire school system revolves. If we get it right for the young people who depend on schools for their academic success, then we are most certainly going to get it right for everyone.
So, some questions that might further this part of the conversation:
What do you see as the levers that will help us do the necessary work needed to elevate the success of all students? Do you believe that the four identified by Prudence L. Carter are sufficient?
Is it your experience that public schools are really focused on the needs of all students, or do we rest on the laurels of those who may be successful in spite of their school experience?
Do you have comments on the use of the leverage metaphor when talking about equity?
We’re walking on important ground here. Your ideas, observations and input are always appreciated.
Next entry: I think that it’s important to look at the some of the non-school levers that might be able to help us create a more integrated, “wrap-around” system of learning for entire communities. What might some of those levers be? Your advance thinking on this question is welcome!