Saturday, February 28, 2009

Developing a community of practice



I have just had my first tutorial sessions with two classes of first year pre-service teachers in the B.Teach program. Our unit is about developing a professional identity and developing critical reflective practice. One of the first readings, from Parker Palmer suggests that "we teach who we are" and we need to be prepared to be vulnerable and to develop our inner life. "Teaching is the intersection between the public and the personal life." We need to own all of who we are, including our fears, so we can be authentic in the classroom.

In this post I reflect on the first tute. This seemed to go exceptionally well; ending with a sense of high yet supportive energy; a sense of commitment to being "awake learners" and many of the students thanking me and saying how they valued my own humilty. I probably wouldn't have bothered deconstructing this too much if I hadn't experienced the second tute which I talk about in the next post. I went home after the first tute feeling that to teach teachers felt like my true vocation. After the second, I felt extremely humbled and doubting.

Description of the Incident (with some explanations of my reasons, and emerging questions)

A "learning objective" of the first lesson?
To create the beginning of an evolving community of practice...

My aim in creating a classroom culture in my tutes is not just a place where we can talk about the ideas from the lectures and readings, but where we can try them on, and be able to put on different teacher identities and see how they are fitting. How can I invite a group of people, isolated, wondering if they had made the right choices in doing this course, overwhelmed by the volume of "readings" they have just purchased to create a space which supports honesty, vulnerability, risk taking?

In all my classes I know that investment in developing community at the beginning enables deep and emergent learnings as we proceed. How do we develop community without doing the "Ho hum, not another get to know you game." How can the ways we come to know each other be purposeful, linking to the learning topic, and which might establish routines and orientations towards the space I want to create?

What happened?

It was very interesting. I went in very early and set up the class in a large circle with a board which had the "signposts" for the lesson and left. When I came in before the lesson many students were already there sitting around the circle. I started with a Bell Routine. This is an activity that students expect to do when they come in without teacher guidance which orients them to the lesson. It enables them to get settled, allows for late people, without on-time students having to wait around for the teacher to start. This particular activity was a questionnaire which asked what inspired them to teach, what gifts they had to offer, and what their fears were. Also they had to put on a name label. I went around the room with my attendence sheet and was able to greet each student by name and check them off.

I wonder what difference just that beginning had made to these students?

After doing a little inspirational speech (as one does) I suggested that to get know each other we could do in two ways. One is to get a sense of the whole, and another to get to know individuals. So we all stood in a perfect circle where we could see each other, no hiding, and I asked everyone to say their name one after the other around the circle. It was like a soundscape of the names of the whole class. I then asked for favorite colour and then an emotion that we were feeling. The "check-in" was very interesting as some people were feeling "tense", "jittery", but most were positive, open.

Did the circle activity itself create fear and uncomfortability? How would I know?

Then I said "who are we?". I did an exercise I had experienced from John Gruber who asks those in the group, who have this one thing in common (e.g. who got a parking easily), to step forward into the circle and to look around. My other questions included who has had a previous career, had some teaching experience, has a science or arts background, is a parent, likes essays, plays a musical instrument, is aiming for primary or secondary teaching. People seemed to take time and really look. I felt as though we were all getting a sense of those in the same boat as us.

So now, rather than only the teacher owning the overall perspective of the class. We all shared it.

I wonder if people felt that who they were, what experiences they had, and their outside lives were being acknowledged, and welcomed. Did they feel less like an student-object and more seen as a whole-person?

Then I asked the students to move around to find a new partner to discuss briefly a relevent question to the topic which I posed. I also aked them to try on a role - "What does it mean to greet someone with your personal persona, versus your public one? Actually try it out with a new person you meet. "

Everyone seemed confused about what I meant but I encouraged them to have a go and see what happened. What emerged was one of those wonderful insights that enabled us later on to get inside the words of what we mean by respecting diverse learners in the classroom. Perhaps we can't actually move into a personal self with someone until you get to know them. It is something that comes from relationship. So if we are committed to respecting diversity we need to be committed to getting to know the other.

I think Parker Palmer, who believes in the heart of education would have been very proud! It was our first experiment with identity and what a profound insight we were left with.

Did everyone get it though? And is it a universal insight? Was it just my "teaching moment" rather than everyone's "learning moment"?

After the pair sharing we got back in the circle and did an 'emotion' check-in which was much more positive, yet two people stood out - one was still "tense" and another "hungry". Immediately someone passed him a packet of food. Later he came and saw me and told me how much this spontaneaous act made him feel very much "at home". The lady who was tense explained to us all that she normally was, and it would take a while, and not to worry. Again, it seemed that rather than me owning the responsibility to ensure and fix my students wellbeing it had become a responsibility that we all shared.

Later, I put students into groups to discuss what sort of classroom community they wanted using the headings of operation issues, learning issues, classroom culture issues, conflict resolution. Each group selected something from their discussion to propose to the whole class. Some suggestions included, time to digest and talk with each other about the previous lecture and readings, a mixture of whole group, small group, a mixture of styles of learning. One girl was very keen that we ensure we have some movement every lesson, like this one and I told them about my journalism class on 8:30 am Monday mornings where students volunteered to do a "wake-up" activity. The day we had red cordial we were all hyped up! She immediately volunteered to run one for the class the follwing session.

Another key proposal was having a classroom culture where they could take risks and be vulnerable - they felt they were among friends who could support their journey. I guess if I was coming from a metaphor of curriculum as learning objectives culture I would be pretty pleased. A key aim of mine was actually embraced by the students.

I wonder if some of the suggestions wouldn't have been made without me creating a vision and an experience of the possibilities. Classroom agreements can very much be words and not "live" in the minds and hearts of the participants.

The critical reflection (see link)

As I bring a more critical reflective lens on this I wonder about the disempowerment we create in traditional classroom structures - not just in terms of giving people a voice, or some control, but in everyone being able to fully express their humanity.

I wonder about whether it is enough to want to be a caring, patient, friendly, understanding teacher - as many of the students said they did. Perhaps we have to ensure that in doing so we are not taking away opportunities for others to do so as well.

It is interesting that when one of the students handed the "hungry" student the food, I thought to myself (how thoughtless am I not to bring in my usual start-up minties) and said to the class that this is what I normally do. Do I need to be seen as the all-seeing, all-solving, all-caring human being?

Brookfield suggests that teachers who make mistakes often don't mind because by revealing their vulnerability they give permission for their students to show their vulnerability. Yet students can just see such mistake-ridden teachers as incompetent and they can lose their authority (a word which would take another post to unpack). I wonder if there is another dimension of this - providing openness for others to step in. So perhaps the "perfect lesson" is not about what we cover and do with efficient ease, but provides spaces for surprises, and those spaces invite others to enter in some way.

So we are back to the perennial dilemmas of teaching -
  • content versus space,
  • structure versus freedom,
  • currciulum as learning objectives versus curriculum as experience
And in all of this what about the students in the class that I didn't get to hear? Am I just basing my feelings for what happened on the vocal view of the few. I guess I better get to know all my students and find out!

Friday, February 20, 2009

What is a community of practice?


Here are some ideas of what we might like a community of practice to be like. It is based on the work I am doing with university lecturers who are examining new ways to be leaders of professional learning.




"Supporting each other to be that change"



A community of practice connects us to others who enrich our thinking and being.


A community of practice draws on processes we know for building successful relationships and community.


A community of practice is a place which values exploring, taking risks and moving out of comfort zones, rather than just achieving practical outcomes. As we do so the tensions and contradictions that exist become more visible. We value the dilemmas as opportunities to dig deeper into the truth behind things. We value the support to try on new roles, new lenses and see how they feel.


A community of practice is a place which is open, enabling diversity, playfulness and honesty. It allows us to speak from the heart and to be personal. It awakens our deep humanity. In this place we learn to listen well as a way of valuing another. We learn to give people space to process. We learn to tune into the moment.


A community of practice is a place where we can be vulnerable. It is place where we can open ourselves to experiences that can challenge who we think we are. It is a place where we can share our issues, our doubts and our fears. It is a place where we know we are supported as we engage in a process of self-reflection, letting go, emergence and transformation.


A community of practice is a place where we offer our stories for deeper exploration of meaning. It is a place where we are developing a shared language that enables us to name and tease out the complexity of issues in new and insightful ways. It is a place which celebrates the journey we are on together yet honours the individual journeys and the individual steps.


A community of practice is a place where we value difference. We honour the unique experiences and perspectives each person brings, inviting each to share their wisdom and resources. We find ourselves saying “and… “, not “but…”.


A community of practice is a place which nurtures and renews. It builds on who we are, what we believe and what we do. It models the environment we want to create and allows us to practice being who we aspire to be. It can be a physical place where we meet. It can be the place in our own hearts that we have for the other. It is a place where we enjoy the ability to contribute to a greater whole.


A community of practice provides a sense of communion. It creates cohesiveness. It enables a coming to know another though being with them and sharing their stories. It is a place where we are at home with ourselves. It is a place where we glimpse our own gifts through seeing and receiving the gifts of others.


What do you think? What might you add, change? What do your communities of practice look like?


What might a community of practice look like which evolves?

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Developing a "critical numeracy" equivalent to the 4 Resource model of Critical Literacy


I have been working on a project which is looking at developing "critical numeracy" across the curriculum. One aspect has been working with teachers in an Action Research project which has explored the issues of creating critical numerate thinking classrooms (of which there have been many).

The other aspect is updating (and re-visioning) the website Numeracy in the News which provides good articles for students and teachers to bring critical thinking. The newspaper article provides a context for maths ideas and terminology which are often used in confusing, misleading or controversial ways. They are a way of engaging students in critical thinking or debate and deeper thinking of both the numeracy ideas and the context itself.

But developing "critical thinking" in numeracy is problematic....

The notion of "critical thinking" can have different meanings and intents based on whether one is bringing a postmodern consciousness versus a modernist consciousness. The Four Resource model (developed by Luke and Freebody) develops an approach to Critical Literacy which clearly comes from a postmodernist perspective. Both science and maths teaching cultures seem heavily situated in a modernist culture. For example, Conceptual Challenge Theory, used as constructivist practice in science teaching, asks students "Is your concept intelligible, plausible and useful?" in order to convert them from their "misconceptions" to the "right" conception. So underlying this "critical thinking" process is an assumption that:
  • there are "truths" and "right" conceptions,
  • it is based on a limited notion of scientific inquiry (primarily seen as an empirical lens) without bringing in any sense of critique of the science lens,
  • the teacher owns the process of leading students through.
A postmodern/integral approach to it would value a metaphor of curriculum as conversation - where everyone, including the teacher would be treating the subject as something to inquire into, and understandings can be enriched by using different lenses. The teacher would also make visible the critical thinking strategies. So rather than scaffolded worksheets where the teacher might have in mind a larger vision of the thinking process and from that write directed, linear questions whose origins are invisible to the students, they would be helping students also see key thinking strategies and help empower them in using these.

Now most of you are thinking "Hey, that is not rocket science." But what I have found in this project working with teachers is that making the big underpinning thinking strategies visible is not simple - mainly because of an unfamiliarity of using such generic thinking strategies, most of which seem irrelevant to the business of coming to know a maths idea. Maths teachers often become trapped in quite procedural ways of knowing maths and it is hard to break out of that box. So teachers might be happy to ask students "Is it true?" but find it hard to get into the more "critical theory" based questions - "Are there different meanings? What are the value systems here? What are the purposes? Who might be silenced? How does it position me? What am I going to believe? What decisions are likely to come from this?"

But should these type of quesitons be part of critical numeracy? Why do we want to have critical numeracy anyway? Perhaps to help students develop discernment - so they can make balanced decisions about social, environmental , political or health issues.... So critical numeracy becomes one lens that students can apply, along with ethical, scientific, socio-cultural, spiritual lenses. So is it OK for critical numeracy to just ask questions "What does it mean? Is it true?" or should it ask more? And if it asks more, can it ask them in such a way that it is easily accessed for people who have been encultured in a modernist discipline area?

And can the model itself act as a transformational tool for teachers in helping them to emerge from the modernist box?

So my trick has been to create a numeracy equivalent to the 4 Resource model for Critical Literacy which is being used in our schools. I wonder whether this can provide a bridge between disciplines? I have integrated ideas from Conceptual Challenge Theory and the Harvard Project Zero Visible Thinking project.

However, it is too easy to fall in love with a model that you have invented. I want to now apply holistic, postmodern and integral lenses to it. And it is very clear that this model privileges the "mental" ways of knowing. How does it integrate heart, mind and soul to develop not just reasoned discernment, but wise discernment?

What are your thoughts?


Monday, January 19, 2009

A conversation with a Grade 6 boy about anger


This has been a conversation that has been on my mind for a while, and I guess by writing about it, I will have the chance over time to reflect about its meaning.

It was my third day as an "art teacher" in a primary school - both new contexts for me. And I had seized the (very beautiful spring) day and decided to can my planned activity and do some "plein air" painting on the river foreshore. This was now the afternoon group and they were settling down, finding rocks to sit on, and solving the problem of the wind blowing away their paper.

But one boy, Mark, could not settle down. His back was to the glorious view. As I walked around helping everyone to get started, and meeting the demands for this or that, I would go back to Mark and make a suggestion that could orient him to the task. The third time, when I had settled enough to actually look at him, I realised that something was up. Ding dong, Sue, what took you so long!

"Something's up?" I asked, "This is not your normal self, is it?" He hummed and hahed, and then gradually the story came out. "I got really angry at lunch time, I yelled at some boys and I chased them around the oval." Mark was such a quiet and considerate boy that this really surprised me. I dug deeper, asking what had caused it. Yes the boys had said something unforgivable but what Mark was most concerned about was what he had done in response. "Are you feeling bad because you don't like who you are when you did that?" I asked. He nodded, relieved. "That's it, I don't like who I am when I am angry."

We were quietly talking, but there were other students who seemed to be quietly listening in. Usually they were very chatty. Someone else says "I get angry too, and I don't feel good about it." I nod and look back at Mark. "Do you get angry at other times and what do you do about it?" He tells me that things make him angry and when this happens he bangs his head on the table to try to make it stop. And when people upset him, he watches violent films and sees people getting shot up, imagines that is the person who hurt him, and then he begins to feel better.

The previous week I had blindfolded the students and took them outside, getting them to imagine the colour of the wind, the smells and the sounds etc, and to sit quietly and just see what images would emerge in their mind's eye. Mark had told me he saw eyes and drew a picture of an almost devil character with "evil" glowing red eyes. I now asked him what that picture was about. He said, "I think it was me. I don't like that person."

It reminded me of my husband when he was at primary school and I told Mark the story. That Roger had thrown a plate at his brother in anger and it smashed against the wall. It so frightened him that he had decided never to feel or express anger again. Mark and the others started talking. Was it really possible to stop feeling anger? We discussed if anger can be a good thing - gets things done, or things changed. What happens if you suppress it? What different strategies might people use to manage it well? "We need a process where at the end we resolve it so we can like ourselves again," I said.


I thought about it, and asked Mark whether he would like to draw a picture that could express his anger and if so what he would put in it. He said he would have a sword and he would be trying to kill his opponent who would be all black. "What sort of sword," I asked, "what sort of movies do you watch." He said he loved Star Wars. So I suggested he use a light sabre. "What colour will it be?" As he drew the picture I said to him, "You know, that light sabre could be more than just a tool for killing - it could emit a whole lot of light and perhaps it could help both you and your oppenent to be better people, to heal the situation." Mark changed from his dark chalks and started drawing in swirling colours of light wrapping himself and his opponent.

Later as we walked back to school, Mark said to me, "You know Sue that actually worked. When I started my picture I was angry and hated myself. Afterwards I actually liked myself again. I liked sending bright colours to my opponent and imagining them helping him to be a better person as well."

I guess there are a number of interesting facets to this story:

How important is it for me as a teacher to create situations which give students space to have such conversations and explorations? How much does my own ability to be "present" in the moment enable me to tune into what is needed?

To what extent are students of this age developing a sense of what "integrity" means to them? Are they creating an inner barometer that helps them find a sense of what is "home" - the quality of being that they aspire to have - the "highest thought"? How often is this a topic for conversation? How can we help students to name this, and "be at home" here?

Perhaps this is a combination of emotional literacy and spiritual literacy. Emotional literacy enables us to name our state with honesty; it gives us the tools to talk about our emotions and to understand the dynamics of relationships. Spiritual literacy helps us aspire to what is deeply human, living the "highest thought", experiencing compassion for self and others, enabling forgiveness and transformation.

It is conversations like this that remind me that I am not just teaching about things, or providing skills or tool-kits - I am a teacher of human beings, helping them (and myself) to find our deep humanity.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Exploring dialogue – part 1


One of the research projects that I am working on is looking at ways to improve online dialogue in a learning “community” of potential teachers or facilitators of adult learning. They are all distance learners, engaging with their facilitator and each other through email, forums and WebCT.

What struck me when I read the interview transcripts about how they engaged with the online forums were their very different perspectives on the value of them and their own role. For example, one had a preoccupation with saying the right thing but would wait so long in trying to ensure she would say things well that she found that most other posts had covered what she wanted to say. Another was more interested in coming to know the others through their personal stories, rather than reading the academic postings – her interest was in building friendships and connections. One was impatient with “chit-chat” and posted because it was part of the assessment – not because of any intrinsic value – “what does it do for me!” One person described how they enjoyed seeing the way the conversation was going and looked again and again, particularly after just posting themselves. One said that when doing the essay he would go back and read the more academic posts and see how it might help him.

Hmmm, I thought – interesting – perhaps reflecting a range of learning styles. Can learning styles be an interpretative lens that shapes our expectations and state of preparedness for learning and engaging with others?

Towards the end I came across one respondent who said something quite different.

“As I read the postings I ask myself what I might write that can contribute to the whole.”

I wondered then whether he was the first person who actually saw the online discussion as something more than a utility for himself. Is it only possible to be truly in “community” when we see ourselves as part of a whole?

When we bring an intent to “contribute to the whole” we no longer have to express ourselves “completely” (being right, covering every angle, repeating things other’s might have said to show we know it too). Rather, we are tuning into what the group needs to grow in understanding – whether it is providing resonant thoughts that enrich current insights, helping others to tease out their thinking, throwing in alternative perspectives and ways of knowing, seeking out evidence, discerning patterns and eliciting essences, model-making, visioning and imagining implications of ideas, reflecting on the way the dialogue might be shaped by our own lenses and assumptions...etc. Dialogue becomes less a debate, or one-upmanship, and more an exploration.

David Bohm suggests a method for dialogue which is agenda-less – in that you get together with the purpose to explore something richly and deeply, rather than to solve something or share information. Participants become conscious of their ways of thinking as they engage in the conversation, and through this witnessing of self find these conversations move from the surface into deep investigation of underpinning assumptions, and habitual and cultural lenses that shape the meaning we make.

How can we be more aware of how we "think" and "be" in our everyday dialogues?

For more of my thinking on dialogue see the chapter in my thesis - The dialogical classroom

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Being in a state to see beauty


Yesterday, I went to the Hobart International Buskers' Festival ready to be entertained. There was an aerial performer - Theaker von Ziarno - who shinnied up a length of sheeting, muscles rippling in her back - and then it was pure magic. I found myself catching myself at one stage when I moved from being entertained (by the clever and difficult poses) into tuning into and riding the wave of beauty and aesthetic forms. Time slowed and colours became more vivid. Each fluttering of the sheets in the wind created new nuances of aesthetic. I was mesmerized by the changing form in the lines of her body, by the negative spaces, and the interaction between her and the trees and sky behind.

I no longer was there to be entertained, I had become a student of beauty and it had awoken something in my soul. I am not sure what the people next to me could see.

One of the educational projects I am working on at the moment is helping a university lecturer birth and write a book on "Gratitude in Education". Her thesis is that many students and teachers do not bring a state of preparedness to their learning experiences - rather it is a state of complaint. She has been exploring how gratitude, as the opposite of complaint, can assist us to be prepared for learning.

It is not about having to feel gratitude when it is impossible to do so, but recognising that a preferred state of being is one where we feel aligned - there is an inner integrity. It is a lot easier to feel grateful when in this state - so "gratitude" becomes a lighthouse letting us know how far we have moved from that inner state of connectedness - our highest thought. She sees "gratitude practice" requiring a high order of self-reflectivity - of being able to recognise and name the state you are in and being aware of how you can shift your state - what you need to do to enter into a state of preparedness.

So now I am reflecting on how my preparedness to view the busking show put me into certain expectations - to be entertained - and this limited how I saw, interpreted and valued the performer. Yet something in me clicked and shifted of itself into a state where I could actually see beauty. In doing so I entered a state of connection and attunement - one where I felt profoundly grateful for being alive. How much of this shift was due to me (and my own history of spiritual practice) and how much did the act itself act as that switch? How can I deliberately bring these ideas in what I do with my students... helping them to be turned on and to turn themselves on to see things from different spaces and different states?

Is this part of emotional and spiritual literacy?

At the end of her performance Theaker asked us that if we could not give money to at least give thanks and a smile. She talked about developing a giving community culture where we feel comfortable about expressing our thanks and we seek to acknowledge in another something that we have benefited from.

Thank you Theaker for switching me onto a state of preparedness to see beauty!

Monday, February 13, 2006

Growing pains: midwifery and mentoring

As usual, after sleeping on a post I find I begin to perceive issues from new perspectives. In the last post I talked about approaches which might help students find their direction in life.

I woke up this morning with several images/memories in my head... they began to coelesce...

In 2000, I went to Mexico to a Holisitic Education conference and met a Mexican woman who was a midwife. What was she doing at the conference I wondered? She told me that as a midwife she worked with parents 2 years before conception of the child and then with both parents and child to the age of 21 years. Needless to say I was blown away.

In contrast, I remembered a previous course enrolment session on the first day of school, sitting along a very long table, squished between lots of other teachers who were also doing what I was doing. Students queued in line to discuss with a counsellor possible year 11/12 courses for the current year prior to filling in their enrolment form. One boy sits down with his mother in front of me. He has no plan; no idea what he wants to do. How long can I spend with him? There are queues of students behind him. In a short 15 mins, somehow, I need to elicit his dreams, his talents, what he likes, what he thinks might be possible. But to every question he answers "I don't know." His mother shrugs desperately and says "I can't get anything else from him."

I, like her, feel totally helpless. The courses he chooses will dictate future opportunities. As I talk to him I feel my shoulders slumping and the energy drain out of me. I begin to realise that I am tuning into his supression of soul. This kid needs big help. Yes, where is that midwife? Where is that healer?

I remember the significant people who have been in my life; mentors and friends at critical times. People who have helped me move from states of blindness of possibilites to states of clarity, people who have helped me explore other parts of myself, people who have just been there.

I have started befriending/mentoring a Sudanese refugee lady as part of a pilot program at the Migrant Resource Centre and I am helping writing guidelines for the befriending program. In my research I discovered new residents really need 4 mentors: someone who has been through something similar (can identify with your past and with your movement from that past to this now), someone who you can talk to on a personal level, someone to link you to the community and lastly someone who can be a mentor in your career area.

It occurs to me that as we grow... transform through the development levels.... up the spiral of evolution ... we are new residents in that new place. Perhaps we need a midwife to see us properly birth into this new way of being. What had happened to this boy that I felt helpless to help? Was his birthing process stuck or supressed? What might be the role of mentors? How can we help students seek and recognize the mentors/midwives that they need at the right time? Because my experience in moving from A to B might just resonate with your experience, and then again may not.

Coincidentally, out of the blue, I just received an email from an ex-physics student who is now 27 and going through a bit of rethink about career and direction, wondering if I can help him in clarifying that process. I have had quite a few of these over the years. How many young people don't find mentors, or are too afraid to ask? What is it that makes an appropriate mentor? Why is it that a student comes back to their year 11/12 teacher... does this mean there are no other people taking up this role in the lives of these young people? What is the role of the community in this?

Yes, we continue to grow... just look at all the different development models .... depending on which ones you look at expect for new energy, new issues, new questions, new possibilities to perturb you to new awareness of being.

What are the implications for schools and teachers? What are the implications for the way we think about life long learning .... what skills, understanding and processes would empower students? Perhaps making transparent the role of significant others and building skills to create lasting relationships in their lives?

And my role of teacher has changed... from teacher of information, literacies and skills that might help students get a job.... to midwife of transformation...

So here I am teaching physics.... and discover in it all the wonderful contexts and questions that are just what are needed to perturb my students and support their transformation and development. And that is perhaps why my ex-students come back to me when they find themselves in states of transformation.

And the boy who had no idea what he wanted to do, could I help him? ... perhaps if he was in one of my classes for a year or two we could create a relationship where I would begin to see him and he would begin to see himself.