I had the opportunity to have a chat with David Bradbury, the Federal MP for Lindsey, recently. Before I start the main part of this article, let me make it clear that I am a member of the Labor Party, and have been for a number of years, so I guess you can read everything that I write through that kind of lens.

Anyway, David and I were talking about the tumultuous events of the last week as Ms Gillard become the Prime Minister. I won’t really go into too much detail about what was said, because a lot of it was behind closed doors and I really don’t think the internet is the best place for that kind of discussion.

However, what I will talk about was how impressed I was with David Bradbury. I know that his profile – nationally – isn’t exactly sky-high. He doesn’t have a ministry or anything like that, and you have to hunt through the news to find any mention of him outside of Lindsey, but he does have a reasonably strong local profile. Anyway, what really impressed me was the calm, measured approach that he took to dealing with these particular issues. As he discussed the decisions he had made, he carefully explained to me the thoughts behind each decision and why he felt that he had to decide in the way that he did. I got a real sense of calm, clear, rational decision-making which I think is a skill that is often lacking in politicians these days.

Another thing that impressed me was how seriously he took his role as the peoples’ representative to the Parliament. Every decision that he made was based on what his constituents wanted – or what he thought that they wanted. He was completely focused on what the people of Penrith and other areas were saying about the major issues – and through his use of mobile offices and things he was trying to get in touch with those people; I got he impression he generally wanted to listen to people’s opinions about ETS and RSPT and Boat People and Rudd-Gillard. And after he listened, he wanted to talk about it too.

The final thing that I found impressive was the moral standing of David Bradbury. Populist is a bit of a dirty word in politics, despite, as far as I can see, populism being the main (and often only) basis for policy decisions. If it gets us votes, we’ll do it seems to be the dictum for most politicians. David, on the other hand, seemed to be arguing for the need to educate the public about the reasons behind certain decisions, and therefore allow them to make more informed decisions.

I was speaking to a number of staff at my school the other day, and I commented that I was going to go and see one of our students playing sport on the weekend. This staff member expressed surprise at such an action – and also suggested that I might be crossing the line of staff-student professionalism. I’d never considered it like that, before, but these comments did cause me to think about what I was doing – was I acting unprofessionally? Was I endangering my career, and the safety of the student? This idea had never crossed my mind before – and ever since I was a young teacher, I’ve often gone to see students play sport, perform in theatre shows or similar things. I’d certainly never really considered my motivation for doing so; it just seemed something that I should do.

Ultimately, I don’t think what I’m doing crosses any kind of boundaries of appropriateness. At the end of the day, a school is a community – or more correctly, a community of communities. There are the communities of practice of teachers. There are the social communities of students. There are the religious, ethnic, cultural and sporting communities within these groupings.This is an important point because I believe that communities are sustained – primarily- through relationships. Thus, it is important to develop these relationships to their fullest extent. Any relationship – and interestingly, Freire makes this exact point – must use as its starting point an understanding of where each member of that relationship comes from; that is to say, it is not enough for me to perceive student simply as a student, or as a boy or as gifted. Rather, I must do my utmost to understand their own life experiences and stories – I need to know about them as a unique individual if I am to come to understand them at all.

I like this idea; I think it is clearly linked to a movement away from the banking model of education and towards a better understanding of the human principles that at the heart of learning. Therefore, to address the issue that started this line of thought, what I was doing by going to this was twofold; firstly, I was learning more about this student’s background and motivations, as hell as his interests, and secondly, this student was learning more about me. Hence, our relationship (which was already pretty good) takes another step forward, and I am better able to assist him in his learning. Sounds very professional, if you ask me!

I’ve been pretty busy at work (as you might have noticed from the scarcity of new posts) but I’ve still been able to take the time to reflect on the actual nature of the doctoral process. One key concept that I’ve been wrestling with lately is the idea that doctoral research is very rarely cut-and-dried. By that, I mean that it is not as simple as ‘if you do x, then the result will be y.’ Of course, this is probably linked to the research that I’ve been undertaking regarding qualitative and quantitative method of doing research. Anyway, it’s certainly true of any research involving people and their motivations, and is especially appropriate for educational research.

I realise, now, that I had entered into my doctoral research with only a limited understanding of what this might actually mean for me. As I talked with my supervisor about the research, I fully expected that my results would be immediately clear; essentially, I would find everything that was wrong with citizenship education, and then I would create some curriculum materials that went towards solving this problem.

How wrong I was; the more I research, the more complex the picture becomes. For example, although I don’t think that Discovering Democracy was a particularly successful program, it wasn’t just because of the content heavy approach; rather, the CEG originally encouraged a more active approach to CE, but this was altered by the political involvement. Equally, teacher PD had a large role to play.

Essentially, I think the idea I am trying to communicate here is best expressed by Albert Einstein, who said, ‘Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.’

There is a quote by Albert Einstein that I think sums upo th

http://quiz.cosmicsoft.net/uvz

I’ve spent much of my career involved in what you might call progressive education, although that term itself is somewhat problematical. One of the depressing things about education is that some things (like PBL and student centered learning) seem to come back every 30 years or so.

Certainly,  I’ve worked in schools that have thought of themselves as innovative. I’ve experienced 1:1 laptop programs – at a time when they were relatively new and exciting. I’ve worked in schools that adopted flexible learning spaces, and collaborative practice. I’ve seen handheld devices before iPod touches. I’ve done this in a number of different schools, too, both in Australia and in England

I’m not bigging myself up here, just establishing some credentials. Because really, the point for this blog posting is actually all about the perils of working in such a school. You see, creating such a culture – where, firstly, the need for change is recognised, and then there is a culture that supports such change is incredibly difficult. Schools don’t move forward on their own. The school I’m currently working at sometimes feels like it’s stuck in a timewarp, and we’re back in the 1980s.

To begin such a change takes a special kind of principal: one that is highly enough respected by his or her peers that he or she can begin such a project (usually won through hard years working at traditional schools) and is still brave or determined enough that they are willing to take on such a risky project. Above all, such a person must have vision – an idea of what education should look like. It is not necessary to understand how such a vision might be created; that is the work of others.

So, armed with this vision, a principal must endeavour to make it a reality. The only way this can happen is through the staff employed at such a school. They must have the skill and expertise to turn the principal’s vision into reality, along with all the requisite changes that are necessary in transforming theory into practice.

But – and it’s a big but – it’s a double edged sword for principals and the staff they employ. Because they are challenging the status quo, they are surrounded by detractors, who wish to see them and their school fail. Added to that, often these schools struggle for survival, isolated as they are, and surrounded by hostile or ignorant communities. Education’s funny like that: because everyone went to school, many people feel qualified to speak about education with some kind of authority. By this rationale, everyone who’s ever been sick should be capable of performing open heart surgery.

And so, these schools are ultimately forced into either failing or changing their ways. The principal, generally frustrated at the lack of support from their own organisations or communities, leaves the school – or if they are lucky, are identified and recruited by a forward thinking community (yes, they exist). And so, the school is kind of half-born, and the principal is replaced by (usually) a more conservative principal, who generally (and often while still talking the talk, but not walking the walk) reshapes the school into a more traditional model. It’s easier to do that than actually try to carry though the vision. And so, once again, progressivism is thwarted by traditionalism, and schools retreat to become little more than institutions for maintaining the status quo.

Depressing, isn’t it?

I was teaching my Year 8 English class recently, and I had one of those perspective moments; you know, when you look around yourself and suddenly it’s like you are seeing everything through fresh eyes. Anyway, that’s what happened; we were in a computer room, and I had kids working on laptops, other kids sitting in front of the floor watching the projector screen and even a few standing outside the classroom furiously arguing with each other.

Ten years ago, I would have been horrified if I had stumbled onto a room that was as ‘messy’ as that. I would have been looking for students sitting in silence, studiously copying from textbooks while the teacher lectured. Okay, maybe I was never as blinkered at that, but I think I would have been concerned by what I saw.

Anyway, I had this perspective moment, and it kind of filtered out all the garbage about classroom behaviour and learning outcomes and other stuff, and allowed me to focus on the actual learning taking place. And that’s the point: despite the ‘messy’ classroom, there was no doubt that there was learning taking place – for every student in the classroom. Let’s think about what I mean by learning: firstly, there is a requirement for every student to be engaged. Secondly, there is a need for students to be challenged – at whatever level they are currently not working at. Finally, there is also the call for reflection. I honestly believe that reflection is a crucial part of the learning process, and it is something that I actively encourage students to take part in.

Those students working on a computer were actually putting the finishing touches on a task requiring them to analyse what Australian and Japanese school aged children might be proud of; it was a challenging task for these high achievers, requiring a level of logical thought that is right at the top end of Bloom’s taxonomy. Meanwhile middle achievers in my class were engaged (and I use that word deliberately) in watching ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ which fits really nicely with our area of study.

But more than passively watching the video, the students were actively involved in critiquing Gore’s point of view; in fact they were analysing how they structured his argument – defining each new piece of information as an example, or a thesis, or evidence. It was great. Sure, they might have been sitting on the floor, or not writing in their books, but they were learning – and enjoying it too.

And the two outside? Well, they were in the heat of a discussion about the reality of climate change, and the causes of it.

Messy classrooms: the way of the future?

I was reading somewhere – not sure where – about the actual etymology of the word education. Rather than meaning ‘to teach’ or ‘to learn’ it actually means ‘to lead’ or ‘to lead out.’ I think it’s from the Latin, originally. It’s an interesting thought, though, isn’t it? Rather than meaning to absorb or dispense knowledge, or to sit there passively storing it up until you are ready to regurgitate it on some examination.

Instead, it’s much more active – more like a ‘guide’ or even a mentor, isn’t it? Even more importantly, there is no suggestion of being the repository of all knowledge; rather, there is the idea that we are all in this together. Just a few thoughts. What do you think?

I found these on SLATE magazine, I think. I can’t remember fully. Anyway, I think they’re great images.

The first one is apparently a powerpoint slide from Afghanistan, trying to explain the situation to new visitors. Umm, death by powerpoint (literally), anyone?

100428-afghanistan

The second one shows the different cities in China with a population greater than 1 million. Kind of puts it in perspective:

I recently had the opportunity to have another informal conversation regarding my research project. In this, I interviewed a member of staff at a school who is responsible for facilitating the Student Representative Council (SRC) at a middle-sized systemic Catholic high school.

I wanted to speak to her (lets call her Miss P) to get an idea of what the SRC’s aims and purposes are – and how effective they are in meeting these aims and purposes. The results were interesting – and also quite heartening. Firstly, I explored the ideas behind how people become members of the representative council. The process is quite convoluted:

1. A student must be nominated by 2 other students, and also a member of staff must countersign this nomination.

2. Then students take a vote on the nominated studenst.

3. The students with the most votes are then interviewed by the teachers responsible for facilitating the SRC. During this interview, they are presented with the SRC role description (more on this below) and asked whether they could uphold the qualities and expectations outlined in the document.

I was lucky enough to get hold of a copy of the SRC role description, and I thought that the fact that one exists suggests an interesting perspective already. The role description generally sets out the expected code of behaviour of a member of the Student Representative Council: for example, one of the statements suggests that students on the SRC need to ‘model behaviours that demonstrate integrity, jusctice and peace’ or ‘be committed to the school community through attendance at reflection days, athletics and swimming carnivals, fundraising events, extra curricular activities and information evenings.’

There is little that is explicitly managed about fostering democratic ideals, but I didn’t expect that. When I asked Miss P about what she thought the purpose of the SRC was, she said that she didn’t really have a role deciding that; rather, the purpose of the SRC was determined by the students – all Miss P did was facilitate what they wanted to do. So, if, for example, there was a really heavy emphasis on sporting and house involvement from the SRC in a particular year, that’s what the focus or purpose of the SRC would be. On the other hand, if the SRC was not a vibrant community, or not particularly motivated, then the SRC would have limited impact upon the school.

I did question what kind of power that the actual SRC had within the schooling environment (linking both to my ideas about empowerment of students and Cogan’s description of Australia’s SRCs as without real power or meaningfulness) and Miss P suggested that, really, the SRC were on their own. Miss P could advise and assist them to run presentations, for example, to deal with issues that they had identified, but they actually had little access to the existing power structures within the school.

This raises a number of important issues:

1. Firstly, I think that the idea of a student-negotiated issues is essential.

2. Secondly, I was concerned that, if this is a typical features of SRCs, they are really more of a regulatory body – responsible for monitoring and addressing behaviour amongst the student body – more than a democratic body aiding in the empowering of students.

On Sunday, Mrs Heggart and I took part in the Red Shield Appeal, raising money for the Salvation Army. Maybe it’s a thing left over from my army days (brief though they were) but I’ve always had a lot of time for the Salvation Army; anytime I see them at shopping centres or pubs, I have to donate money, even if it’s only the change in my pocket.

Anyway, the way the red shield appeal works is that each district (ours was South Penrith) gets as many volunteers as possible to come to a central point; these volunteers get organised into collection teams of 4 with 1 driver, and then they get a specific area to door knock to collect money.

We rocked up at Jamison Public School at 0830 to a scene of, to put it mildly, total confusion. The organisers were generally trying to get the groups into teams of 4, but everybody was resolutely staying clustered in their little groups they arrived in. Oh, and one more thing; unbeknown to me, most of the Red Shield collectors are schoolchildren. And while Mrs Heggart and I might look good for our age, no-ones going to mistake us for 15 years old. Talk about looking like a fish out of water.

Anyway, we got organised eventually into a team with Jesse, Erica and Lizzie, as well as Mrs Heggart and myself, and our stern-faced driver, John. We hit the area we’d been assigned, which was like a maze of cul-de-sacs and battle-axe blocks. Anyway, that brings me to the point of this blog: sure there was the occasional grouch, like the old codger who told us to go collect money off Kevin Rudd, ‘cos he’s got lots, apparently, but on the whole, I was amazed at the willingness of people to donate money. We started doorknocking before 0900, on a Sunday morning, which meant we were getting a lot of people out of bed; they answered the door in their pyjamas – or not – as the case may be, but in every street we went down, people willingly scraped together what change they had to donate what they could to the Salvation Army. There was even one guy who just chucked in a $50 note!

The point I’m trying to make is that, even though society seems to be getting a kicking lately, what with all the arguments about increasing violence amongst young people, the fact we are all too fat or unhealthy, families don’t talk anymore etc etc. I mean, the media is full of it. Even with all this, perhaps there’s hope for us, yet; I mean if we can recognise the needy in society and find some way of helping them, then surely society isn’t that bad?

I know, I’m an incurable optimist. But for the record, in less than 3 hours collecting, we raised more than $500. Not too shabby.