Frustrations

Disclaimer: I got a little carried away with this post, and it's super long--apologies. Just read last paragraph, if you don't feel like reading the whole thing!

In a 2001 talk at the NCTE Conference, Julie Wollman-Bonilla said that "researchers trying to improve education have a responsibility to describe what is working and to do so not as a template but as grist for the mill of reflection and for thoughtful adaptation and modification to situated practice" (322). To this I respond, Yes! Of course! Wollman-Bonilla's stance of education research as social action appeals to my sensibilities, and her notions of selecting research questions that concern and interest students, that grow from both teachers AND researchers, clearly seek to establish the relationship of research to practice in an authentic way. She calls for research design projects to focus on how participants are represented on the "basis of a vision of an equitable, just, and caring society"; she cites literature that uses illustrative cases of good teacher practice and argues not the generalizability of the findings, but rather the flexibility and adaptability of such practices to fit unique contexts; she quotes Noddings (1986) who implores researchers to ask, "Who will be affected by our research and how? Will our research contribute to the development of good persons and maintain a caring community?" (320). Again, I applaud these research goals, as they mirror my own teaching goals, but underneath my outward cheer leading is an underlying sense of defeatism. Before I explore this, I want to say that I am still very much wedded to my desire and ideals of teaching for social action, to use Wollman-Bonilla’s phrase, and I have not become cynical. However, it cannot be denied that the reality for educators today is an educational political policy that is enamored with quantitative measures of teaching and data driven, evidence-based student performance. Such policy is not conducive to research designs that employ case studies, naturalistic studies like Wollman-Bonilla’s “Teaching Science Writing,” ethnographic studies, or other methods that reach qualitative ends; ends that ultimately acknowledge that the findings don’t conclusively show what will work in all situations for all students. Ever since 2002 and the No Child Left Behind Act, school districts are “increasingly turning to publishers for scripted curricula and decontextualized programmed materials [because of] the mandated implementation of ‘scientific research -based’ practices certified as ‘best’ by policy makers and academics and thus assumed to be universally effective” (Lytle, 2006). Thus, on the one hand, teachers are stripped of professional agency because they aren’t part of the conversation about what’s considered ‘“best.” While, on the other hand, the states’ and nation’s current policies are coercing researchers to conduct evidence-based research that inherently decontextualizes classroom practices and precludes teacher and student input.

Lytle et al. (2009) describe educational action research in Philadelphia schools over a twenty year period, and what these researchers reveal is the slow but steady decrease of teachers’ power to influence curriculum reform. Through the national standards-based movement and the increase of high stakes testing, the results of which teachers are solely accountable, Lytle et al. show how a cohort of Philadelphia teachers who were once at the forefront of curriculum design within their schools, are now left out of the conversation. The authors write, “Although teachers still form groups and use their inquiries to work within and against the system, structures for teacher research during the current era have also, almost by necessity, been identified through venues and support beyond the district” (38). The goals of education action research in Philadelphia, at its inception, were not far from the goals Wollman-Bonilla iterates. Further, the reliance on oral inquiry which characterizes one method of action research, is similar to the illustrative cases Wollman-Bonilla’s references, as well as her call for researchers to select questions that interest and concern students and teachers. Likewise, Lytle et al. conducted research that “focused on students’ experiences and perspectives on schools...Furthermore, teachers could learn from data collected in others’ classrooms and schools, and systematic oral inquiry as a method of analysis could yield unique insights about that data, [which] reinforced the power of peer documentation and collaborative work” (31). That is where action research in Philadelphia was in 1995. Students’ experiences and perspectives, not their test scores, were the centerpiece of research inquiry. While many of the inquiry communities in Philadelphia have waned because the climate for teacher research since 2004 has changed dramatically (Lytle et al. 2009), the Leadership Inquiry Seminar has remained intact. In a time marked by the de-skilling and vilification of teachers, it’s not surprising those in service would hold onto a leadership group, in an effort to regain agency. Notice, however, how different the inquiry questions are of this group compared to those in 1995: “How can an inquiry community support teachers and their leadership in a struggling urban school district? How can we be more thoughtful and intentional in our efforts to nurture present and future leaders in schools? How can this inquiry community build an increasingly diverse group of leaders?” (38). In essence, what these questions speak to is the sense that teachers no longer have a voice and we must try to reclaim it. What's more, if teachers' voices are barely audible, students' are silenced. I cannot help but see an image of teachers standing alone, up against, not just the federal and state mandates, but their own districts and perhaps their own administrations. It is a startling and grave image and defines my sense of defeatism.

If in 2001, Wollman-Bonilla’s call for research as social action was not heard--if in 1993, Paulo Freire’s call for the explicit exposure of cycles of oppression reproduced in our schools was not heard--if John Dewey’s call was not heard, as far as policy making goes, and the list goes on--then when will this change occur? And, needless to say, rather than moving toward this change, we are moving away. As eloquent as Wollman-Bonilla’s talk was in 2001, even her language betrays her conviction that change will move in a better direction: “Policy makers and politicians want better test scores, but perhaps [ital mine] understanding why that isn’t the sole or primary goal of our best teachers and what their goals are can enlighten policy” (322). Why use the word “perhaps?” Why not state with conviction that this understanding is primary? Why aren’t ethnographic studies valued research, when it’s common sense to consider context in educational research? Why must I get excited, because of all the possibilities action research in a community of teachers offers, only to be shot down when I learn that these communities rarely exist anymore, or are not supported by school districts? There is unrest among teachers, and the changes that are happening in the system only serve to undermine teachers’ intellect, authority, and power, but who exactly is standing up to these changes in a meaningful, organized way? Why didn’t a large scale protest happen when the new chancellor of NYC schools was announced? Perhaps, my sense of defeatism isn’t really my own, but rather a projection of the teaching community as a whole. Frustration, at this point, may better characterize my feelings toward not only the changes undergoing the system, but also teachers' (lack of) systematic protest.