Apr
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Dare We Practice What We Preach?
Filed Under Topics for debate
Dare We Practice What We Preach?
Alexander Romiszowski.
(Educational Technology 47/2, March-April 2007, pp61-64)
WHY DID I MISS WRITING A COLUMN FOR THE PREVIOUS ISSUE?
This column follows four months after the previous one that was published in the September/October 2006 issue of the magazine. I had to skip an issue due to other work on several projects with overlapping timelines. Up to September, I was fully occupied organizing the program for the ICDE World Conference on Distance Education. Then came the conference itself, followed by work on editing the 400-odd papers in preparation for production of the conference proceedings. In parallel, I started to work on three projects, one in the USA, one in Mozambique and the third in Azerbaijan. All three projects are concerned with curriculum and course design/development. This made it difficult to meet my column-writing deadlines. However, it also suggested that the next column could well address some aspects of curriculum and course design that have appeared interesting or critical in one, or maybe all, of these overlapping projects.
CURRICULUM AND ID: WHY IS IT TOUGH TO PUT THEORY INTO PRACTICE?
The USA-based project involves university level curricula and courses on organizational development, leadership and change management. At first glance, this seems to be a relatively typical university-based effort to use e-learning and blended learning to extend its reach beyond the “walls” imposed by convenient commuting distance. However, the pedagogical and philosophical approach to be adopted, as defined up-front by the client department of the university, is very up to date and modern, or maybe even post-modern. Reading the brief received from the client, I was immediately reminded of the topic addressed in my last column – the paper by Paul Kirschner, John Sweller and Richard Clark, entitled “Why Minimally Guided Instruction Does Not Work” (Educational Psychologist 41(2), June 2006). The authors listed some shared assumptions underlying the forms of instructional programs that, they claim, research shows to be generally ineffective (please see the last column for details). I was now reading the same form of language in my client’s briefing document. In my mind, this translated into:
“O.K. – this is what we are being told by the leading ‘gurus’ and this is what we believe, so let’s practice what we (and they) preach – oh yes, and be sure to make it work”.
The Mozambique-based project is part of a general program that runs in many countries under the banner of “ICT for Development” (ICT4D for short). The specific project I am engaged on is developing curricula and courses on how to recognize opportunities for, and how to obtain socially valuable returns on, investments (of effort as well as cash) in technology-based solutions to problems in all manner of societal contexts – education, health, employment, governance, poverty eradication and economical development. The target populations for these training modules include teachers, public servants in general, and a new category of professionals called “ICT practitioners” who work at the grass-roots community levels, managing rural tele-centers, disseminating ICT knowledge and skills to village communities, supporting small businesses, farmers and craft-workers in producing and marketing their goods, and generally acting as “local change agents”.
This project, together with others that form part of the overall program of ICT4D, is being conducted in alignment with guidelines that were developed by national commissions, with international input, and are now “consecrated” in the form of national laws and decrees that specify how things are to be in the future. As regards education and training initiatives, or curriculum design activities, this official document once more bristles with the language of currently popular pedagogical “creeds”: authentic problem-solving; student-centered; reality-based; collaborative; constructivist; etc. So, once more, the challenge is to successfully put into practice teaching-learning approaches that are currently the most “politically correct”, but according to Kirschner and his co-authors (and also many other researchers whom they quote), are based on a set of beliefs that have not been born out by academic research. Once more, the challenge is to practice what these “creeds” or “belief systems” preach, and succeed where others have failed.
The Azerbaijan-based project is part of an ongoing national school curriculum reform program. My role is limited to reviewing progress and evaluating the outcomes of the primary school curriculum revision process. Once more, the practical work on specific subject areas for specific grades was to be in alignment with general guidelines set out in a national curriculum framework and policy document. And once more, the language of this document reflects the currently predominant pedagogical belief systems whose validity is questioned by Kirschner and others. One observation during my work with the Azerbaijan curriculum design teams was the difficulty that they were experiencing in putting into practice the principles that were spelled out in such carefully chosen language in the national curriculum policy document. This was indeed highlighted as a major problem by some of the leaders of the project, who also threw some light on why this may be the case.
This curriculum reform program is, they said, attempting to transform a school system that was designed in Soviet times to serve the political and other interests of the Soviet State, into a system that is expected to serve as an instrument for integrating a small but independent country (with oil reserves that are soon expected to run out) into the mainstream of nations that operate as knowledge-based societies in a barrier-free market economy. The challenges are immense, not least in the mentality-change that is called for in adults who were brought up and educated under the previous regime and therefore acquired the associated habits and beliefs. In the case of the present project, teachers, curriculum designers and educational administrators – all acculturated to the previous system, are now called upon to successfully implement the new curriculum as an instrument of major societal change. The task is probably as tough as converting a nation to a new religion. And it was quite obvious to me during my work with the curriculum design teams that there were a number of “converts” who had bought into the new belief systems (even if not always understanding the practical implications of some of the theoretical principles) and were showing great zeal in their efforts to implement change. But there were also similar numbers who, despite being members of the same design teams and therefore working under the same general guidelines of the national curriculum policy document, were not true believers in the principles embodied in this document and showed strong signs of resisting any attempts to “convert them to the new creed”.
CAN THE TEACHING OF RELIGION TEACH US SOMETHING ABOUT ID?
In the previous section, I have several times made an analogical connection between pedagogy and religion. This comparison may have limited validity, but I would argue that it is a useful analogy to the extent that both may be viewed as a set of firmly held basic beliefs or principles that should then guide decision making, and be put into practice in real life situations. In this section, I plan to exploit this analogy some more. In most countries that have secular governments (and also many that do not) the practice of the principles of separation of church and state result in there being no formal religious education in the national curriculum. But of course in most countries there are many private schools that are set up and maintained by religious organizations and these do generally include the teaching of religion as a key subject in their curricula. So, it may be interesting to examine how some religious schools approach the issues of curriculum design and implementation of the subject which arguably may be “closest to their heart”.
It could be argued that a religious school would take particular care to ensure that the principles of their specific belief system should be reflected in both the content and the methodology of teaching the subject of religion. It so happens that I have some case studies based on personal experiences that illustrate how such schools may vary widely both in the curriculum content and in teaching methodology. It also happens that I have found the analysis of these differences extremely useful as a means of understanding such problems of curriculum and course planning as were observed in all three, otherwise quite different, projects described at the beginning of this column.
The first case study concerns my own experience as a student in three separate Catholic boarding schools. The three institutions were each run by a different order of monks. There were some differences in curriculum and pedagogy, but as far as “religious instruction” was concerned, there was great similarity. Looking back with the hindsight of ID knowledge and skill, I can see that the methodology employed in all three schools would today be labeled as “Direct Instruction” which, as Kirschner et al suggest, is a proven methodology for the achievement of the types of objectives that are typically tested at the end of classroom instruction. In the case of my religious instruction, this was pretty well limited to the knowledge and comprehension levels of Bloom’s taxonomy.
In all three cases, the first hour of each day was devoted to “RI” as it was labeled on the timetable. This was in itself a telling guide to the underlying philosophy. I was after all in the UK, where the term “instruction” tends to be used in a much more restricted manner than in the USA – “instructors” could be found in industrial and military training contexts, but never in schools – the stamping ground of “teachers”. So it is interesting to note the use of “instruction” in the context of religion. Finally, being boarding schools run by priests and monks, there were many real-life opportunities to put learning into daily practice. However, my memories are of being taken through the motions of religious activities (Bloom’s “application” level), but seldom actively involved in reflection on the reasons behind the performance of the acts, or their broader or deeper implications (Bloom’s “analysis, synthesis or evaluation” levels).
The second case study concerns a close personal friend and also business partner through the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, who was a more-than-somewhat exceptional person. During this period, we operated an antique and crafts shop / boutique in the well known Portobello Road antiques area of London. For myself, as university professor, this was a somewhat unusual and definitely “sideline” activity, mainly at weekends. For my partner, however, it was a key activity that enabled her to gain a small but regular income while pursuing her main-interests at that time – these included acting (typically an occasional activity with significant “rest periods” between assignments), writing two regular columns for Womens’ magazines and the writing of her own autobiography (done in the shop between attending customers). The autobiography was published in two volumes (childhood reminiscences and later exploits) and was a big non-fiction best-seller. The “later exploits” included: a short episode in the British army (brought to an end when they discovered she had lied about her age in order to enlist); a Dior Top Model in Paris: actress in some 40 major British plays and films; anchor and presenter in her own TV talk-show; a three year period when she gave up these activities to sail as a cook on a charter yacht; etc. She is now a successful, author of fiction and non-fiction books, TV soap operas and serious plays.
As an educational technologist, I was of course interested in understanding what form of education or training may have been the basis for such an unusually varied and successful career, particularly as my friend had not studied beyond secondary school, nor formally trained for any of the professions at which she has excelled. When she described her secondary school experiences, I realized that one of the main factors in her education was the manner in which she was taught the subject of religion.
My friend was one of the children who had the bad fortune to be taken away from their families and out of London, to boarding schools in the countryside during WW2, in order to avoid Hitler’s nightly V2 rocket raids – the Blitz. She had the good fortune, however, to be placed in a rather exceptional school – a boarding school for girls that had at that time already been in operation for some 100 years. The school, located in a small village in the county of Wiltshire, was set up by Quakers when Queen Victoria was quite young. The very setting up of an academically high quality boarding school for girls at a time when it was not fashionable to educate girls at all illustrates the free-thinking philosophy of the Quakers. The Quaker brand of Christianity was, of course, well known for its free-thinking philosophy and a belief system that included the principle that each person is responsible for constructing their own belief system – one could call it a religion that espouses constructivist principles. These free-thinking principles often got the Quakers into trouble with the other predominant religions in Britain, one result of which was that some of them left for North America where they hoped they would be able to “practice what they preached” without impediment or strife.. However, by the 1800’s, religious tolerance had improved in Britain and “Badminton School” was opened with a curriculum and teaching-learning methodology that truly attempted to practice what the religion preaches. The school still exists and, I believe, still puts the belief system into practice in much the same way as when my friend was a student there.
My friend encountered no classes at all that were labeled “religious instruction”. Instead, the whole school would put a given religion into daily practice during one whole trimester. All aspects of community life would be conducted according to the norms of that religion. Within one school year, the students would experience, in an authentic and real-life-based manner, no less than three major world religions, The following year, they would experience three more major religions, and so on. As they progressed, they would be encouraged to compare and contrast the practices and the underlying principles of the different religions and so construct their own concepts of truth, of right and wrong. They would engage among themselves in knowledge-building conversations that, from the description I received from my friend, were very reminiscent of the dialogues in Plato’s “Republic” and also of the methods of reflection-in-action proposed by Donald Schön.
But how can we rely on young children having fruitful conversations of this nature? After all, the majority of adults do not seem to develop the requisite skills of analysis, synthesis and evaluation required for effective reflection-in-action. Well, it seems that the Quaker curriculum had this aspect under control well over a hundred years ago. Badminton School did not start each day with an hour of religious instruction, as did my Catholic schools. But the first hour of each day was devoted to a standard exercise, practiced in all the grades throughout the child’s secondary school career. Each student was given copies of three daily newspapers of different political orientations: a right-leaning newspaper such as the London “Times”; a left-leaning paper such as the communist party’s “Daily Worker”, and a middle-of-the-road paper. For half an hour, the students would read the editorial columns of all three papers that addressed the same current events, and as they read, would highlight “statements of fact” in blue and “opinions” in red. For the remaining half hour, the students would discuss the differences: between their own perceptions of the content of the editorials; between the different ways that the same current event was presented and discussed in the three papers. Is this not an example of the development of skills at the analysis, synthesis and evaluation levels of Bloom’s taxonomy? Is this not a great example of collaborative construction of knowledge – and indeed collaborative development of skills?
In my estimate, a student would be spending 5 hours a week, 200 hours in an academic year, or 1000 hours during the minimum legal period of secondary school attendance, on just this one exercise. What was the return on this investment? Was there a real need for so much repetition of this basic exercise in intelligent communication? Of course, as the years progressed, the nature and the level of discourse developed. In early days, the students would be developing their skills of intelligent reading and justified criticism. At later times, they would be mastering rules of language, syntax, dialectics, logic, and many other areas often neglected in school curricula. Also there were continuing spin-off benefits in terms of awareness of current events and ability to take a balanced and defendable position on just about any topic of current interest. In my opinion, the level of investment of time and effort in this exercise is not only justifiable, but necessary. I also consider this as an illustration of the vast difference in curriculum structure that exists between what may be necessary to achieve the learning benefits promised by the ‘gurus of new educational paradigms’, and what is actually present in most current – including some recently-reformed – school curricula.
Where might we look for the long-term, after school, benefits of the Badminton curriculum? Possibly, the professional records of alumni? Badminton, despite its small size, stands out among British institutions in terms of the number of outstanding women scientists, authors, journalists and politicians among its alumni – for reasons of space, I will mention only one: Indira Ghandi, a past President of India, famous for her dedication, statesmanship and revolutionary reforms. But there is another “bottom-line” measure that was mentioned by my friend, and which I later checked out by contacting the school. It turns out that there are many documented cases, from back in the 1940’s when my friend was a student, right through to the 1970’s when I contacted the school, of British politicians from all political parties refusing to give public speeches in the County of Wiltshire unless the students from Badminton School were prohibited from attending, such was their fear of being demolished-in-debate by a 14 year old schoolgirl.
Is this not an example of successful attainment of the types of objectives that are talked about in discussions of the “new educational paradigms”, but are seldom if ever measured by school evaluation systems? Is it in the pursuit and evaluation of such objectives that we may find evidence to counterbalance, the research in favor of direct instruction? May we not scientifically demonstrate that certain categories of learning objectives are generally best achieved through methods such as direct instruction, but other categories may be better achieved by constructivist-inspired approaches, provided “we do it right and measure the right outcomes”?
CONCLUSION
The object of this column is to extend the discussion of the issues addressed in my previous column, linking them to the specific context of curriculum reform and course design. It argues that despite the evidence amassed by research such as that quoted by Kirschner and others, there may be some foundation in the claims that constructivist and other “new paradigm” approaches lead to superior learning – but of objectives that typically are not formally evaluated in most school systems. It has also pointed out some real-world difficulties in the practical implementation of “new paradigm” principles in curriculum and course design projects, and suggested that many of these difficulties are associated not only with adopting a new belief-system, but also accepting the deeper implications of these beliefs. Finally, through the comparison of two approaches to the teaching of religion, it has attempted to illustrate the vast differences that may exist in the structure of curricula and courses that plan to implement education based on different belief-systems. The example taken from the context of religion is merely a clearer and sharper example of what exists in all subject-matter areas and all educational cultures. Another implication of the story is that educators have known for hundreds of years how to effectively implement constructivist-based curricula, but in fact very few actually have done so – either before or after Vygotzky. Therefore, our final question remains – will education systems as a whole take the enormous steps required to implement the curricular and methodological changes that are required to harvest the benefits that are promised by the new educational paradigms? Dare we practice what we preach?
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