Reflective Practice
Are you a “reflective practitioner”? This was a question put forward to us on a regular basis when I was doing my undergraduate program in Education close to 40 years ago. At the time, there were countless articles written about the need for teachers to commit to regular reflection about their pedagogy, planning, and practice. When I did my practicum stints at McNally and Victoria (before it became a performing arts school), I had to keep a daily journal – tracking my lessons and the student response. It wasn’t easy. There was just too much to do, between lesson planning, marking, coaching and job hunting. I often resented the extra writing. I wasn’t sure what my profs and supervisors wanted, and I wasn’t all that great at going deep into my thoughts and feelings about my role as a teacher. I thought it was “fluffy”. I was only 21; I still had a lot to learn about teaching and life. Besides, I had places to go, movies to watch, and games to play. Nevertheless, I got those journal entries done and handed them in. Sometimes the reflections were very hard to write; at first they seemed very forced. I tried to give Professors what they wanted, and I thought they wanted name-dropping (As Heidegger once wrote…), buzzwords and jargon (edu-babble) and life-changing revelations. When I let that idea go, I suddenly could write six or seven of my “daily” reflections – all in one night. Procrastination and deadlines had forced my hand; I had to be simple and authentic. All the same, I think the practice of reflection did influence who I became as a teacher. Very early in my career I became fixated more on the “how” and “why” of teaching rather than the “what”. It didn’t matter if I was teaching grade five French or Hamlet to the grade 12’s, the questions were still the same: “What can teachers do to hook their students on learning?” “How do they keep students engaged?” “What do you do if learning breaks down?” “How do I know if my students are really learning?” and “How can I support and challenge learners so that they develop efficacy and ownership of their own learning?” As I said, in the early 1980’s “reflective practice” was one of the buzz phrases or fads around education. I thought it might fade away just as many other terms did – but it didn’t. In fact, committing to be a reflective practitioner is just as important today, in the world of online instruction, as it was many years ago when disco was in, the internet was just emerging (remember dial-up?), most of my female colleagues had big hair, big glasses and wore shoulder pads, and the Oilers were winning championships. So what is reflective practice? Well, on a very simple level, I would say that reflective practice is the development of self-awareness about your teaching. A kind of “metacognitive thing”. As Donald Schön wrote: The practitioner allows himself to experience surprise, puzzlement, or confusion in a situation which he finds uncertain or unique. He reflects on the phenomenon before him, and on the prior understandings which have been implicit in his behaviour. He carries out an experiment which serves to generate both a new understanding of the phenomenon and a change in the situation. (Schön 1983: 68) For me, reflective practice involves: 1) commitment to growth, 2) a strategic focus, 3) skillful implementation, 4) data collection and feedback, 5) a willingness to be surprised, 6) reflection and 7) adaptation and re-alignment. Just thinking about how your lesson went and making a mental note to do things differently next time, is not reflective practice. There needs to be intentionality, targeted inquiry, a bit of soul-searching, and considered, thoughtful adjustment to practice. Reflective practice requires an open mindset, an awareness of gaps and growth areas (instructor and student), a recognition of the incredibly complex world of teaching and learning, and an unwavering a commitment to students and their learning. It follows that instructors, who are reflective practitioners, need to keep current on educational trends, display understanding and empathy, and focus on continuous improvement. Often these same instructors become hubs or champions in their departments – sharing discoveries and missteps with their colleagues. So how can one enact intentional, targeted, considered and responsive reflective practice? Well, as I was forced to do, you can keep a professional development journal – keeping track of some of the strategies you’ve tried and whether or not they were successful. You can also do this by writing notes on your lesson plans, especially if you return to these plans frequently and use them in subsequent semesters. Another avenue would be in regularly updating your professional growth plan (which we used to do in Halogen). PGPs help us set learning goals, challenge us to seek out literature and expertise, and commit to getting feedback from our students and colleagues. Other strategies include:
If you are interested in learning more about reflective practice, I will run several sessions in Week Of Welcome. I can also provide you with many resources from Dewey (1930’s) to Zeichner or Schön (1980’s), to current educators like Stephen Brookfield… just send me an email. Donald A. Schön, The reflective practitioner - how professionals think in action. Basic Books, 1983 ISBN 0465068782
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Generosity As I have written about before, we have been using the Circle of Courage, from Brendtro, Brokenleg and Van Bockern, as a way to guide our discussions about online teaching and learning in our Friday faculty sharing circles. Generosity was the fourth and last component of the circle that we discussed. Together with belonging, mastery, and independence, generosity can help students and instructors develop resilience and feel connected to a purpose outside of their own wants and needs. As post-secondary instructors, most of us know the importance of generosity; it is one of the reasons we became teachers. We did not choose this job for the pay, the prestige or the privilege - it was about giving and sharing. For at its core, teaching is a very altruistic activity; it is an act of love and kindness. Most of us chose this job because we want to make a difference for our students; we want to encourage their growth, sustain their well-being, and set them up for success. Those who entered the profession to show off their expertise or bestow their wisdom on the rest of us, usually move on to other professions or management. Their place is not in messy, demanding and often unpredictable world of the classroom. Generosity thrives when we create safe spaces; spaces where there is shared inquiry, effective collaboration, regular encouragement, an emphasis on development, and a commitment to honesty. Generosity involves open listening, two-way dialogue, and the opportunity for students to develop self-efficacy (I can do this!). As educators, we must constantly look to build environments (face-to-face and online) that allow our students to practice generosity through our activities (discussions, forums, and group work), assignments and assessments. As an institution that is concerned about “workforce readiness”, we know that developing soft skills around collegiality and teamwork are essential, and an emphasis on generosity will help with that. Moreover, generosity needs modelling. As an old friend once shared with me: “preaching only induces more preaching; it is only sincere and modeled practice that will promote more practice”. Instead of telling our students how important it is to share, build community, and promote the well-being of others, we need to practice what we preach. This can be done in grand ways, but it often starts with small gestures like kind words and friendly gestures, gifts of time and resources, invitations for input and insight, allowances for missteps and learning through mistakes, or simply asking an important question like: “How are you doing?” or “How can I support you in your learning?” In our sharing on June 5th, session faculty shared many of the ways that they encourage the practice of generosity in their learning environments, people suggested:
As Jamie Medicine Crane shared, “Generosity is like medicine; it establishes reciprocity and trust, it feeds our souls and also those around us. Generosity recognizes and acknowledges underlying pressures and seeks to share the burdens and the joys, collectively.” Brendtro, L, Brokenleg, M and Van Bockern, S (2005), The Circle of Courage and Positive Psychology, Reclaiming Children and Youth (The Journal of Strength‐Based Interventions), Compassion Publishing, Volume 14, Number 3 Intercultural Lessons Several years ago, I was blessed to be included in an international project partnering with Lakeland College (Vermillion) and the Vocational Education and Training Authority of Tanzania (Mwanza). While supporting the college in Mwanza and getting to know the people and the place, I learned many lessons about my own cultural myopia. One of the first lessons I learned had to do with the concept of “Power Distance”. In Tanzania your age, gender, education, and job title has an impact on how you are to be treated. This was apparent from the minute my colleagues and I were picked up from the airport. From that moment on, as the senior male member of the group, I was expected to ride in the front seat. Several times in the following weeks, Jackie and I would try to shake it up and switch seats, but that just seemed to unnerve the driver. When we were at the college, it was no different. As much as I asked my Tanzanian colleagues to simply call me Jeff, I was always “Dr. Jeff” to them. Sometimes, when we were being a little less formal, they would relax a bit and just call me “Doctor”. This power distance was also quite obvious as I walked around the college and interacted with the support staff and groundskeepers. They could not miss my grey hair and balding pate. Invariably I was addressed not with “jambo” (hi) or “habari” (how are you), but with “shikamoo” (I respect you, my elder) to which I was expected to answer with “marahaba” (thank you for your respect, my son/daughter). The power distance was also very apparent in the way that the students showed their respect for the teachers. As they arrived each morning, in their blue and white uniforms, they lined up to shake our hands, ask about our health, and bring greetings from their families. The students never questioned the long days, the short breaks, or the meager lunches. They would arrive early for class and would sweep out the classroom, straighten the desks and generally tidy while the teachers prepped their notes. There was no “thank you” – these actions were simply expected. And, when students answered questions, they were expected to stand by their chair and compose themselves to deliver an answer that showed thought and respect, even when answering simple math questions. The students (most in their late teens or early 20’s) were always very attentive and compliant. They took notes without being told to do so, they always showed respect and greeted teachers accordingly, and they often endured long and repetitive explanations and would not say anything - even when they knew that the teachers were making mistakes in their explanations. According to Geert Hofstede, a renowned scholar in intercultural research, there is a significant difference in how Canadians and Tanzanians view and experience power difference. As Canadians, we seem to have no problem referring to our Prime Minister as “Justin” and in making fun of his hair, his socks or his pauses in speech. In Tanzania, the office holds much more respect. Although they might question some of the president’s decisions, most Tanzanians would never consider referring to their president by his first name. Pictures of the current president (John Magufuli) and the founding president (Julius Nyerere) are expected to be respectfully displayed in every office, school, college, and even behind the front desk at every hotel. Along with high vs low power distance, Hofstede lists five other markers of cultural difference: individualism vs collectivism, masculinity vs femininity, certainty or uncertainty avoidance, long term vs short term orientation, and indulgence vs restraint. (Check out his website: https://www.hofstede-insights.com/product/compare-countries/) Where a society fits in, according to these markers, would have a great deal of impact upon how people live and on how they learn. For instance, in Canada we stress student-centered teaching, which includes differentiating educational approaches, providing individualized feedback and working to ensure each student gets their needs met. In Tanzania the focus is more on delivering a set content. The teacher’s role is to show expertise and the student’s role is to show diligence in applying themselves in learning this content. In Canada there is an emphasis on teaching students problem solving, critical thinking and entrepreneurship; challenging students to apply their knowledge and skills. In Tanzania the emphasis is more on conformity and “rightness”. All students should have the essentials and all should be able to give the correct answers when called upon. Is it no wonder then, that many of our international students have difficulty in adjusting to how we teach, how we interact, how we support, and how we assess? The NorQuest Learning Circle for Intercultural Competence and International Success
At NorQuest we are becoming increasingly aware of the challenges facing both instructors and international students as they navigate and negotiate the intercultural spaces in our face to face and online teaching environments. With this in mind, NorQuest International and NorQuest People Development embarked on a four month professional learning journey to build on and share faculty knowledge, skills and awareness in supporting international students. (Thank you for your leadership, Nancy!) This “learning circle” used Indigenous pedagogy (the Circle of Courage) as an organizational and interpretational frame and incorporated best practices from Professional Learning Communities and Reflective Practice. Together with Barbara, Daisy, Julia, Karen, Martha, Nancy, Paula, Rasoul, Sheryl and Viola, Sarah Apedaile and I spent countless hours each week looking closely at some of the factors that influence how we reach and teach our international students. We did this through readings and links, weekly discussions, online forums, and mini-research projects, where we would try different approaches, reflect on them and then share our thoughts with the larger group. In the end, we learned a great deal about our students and about ourselves. Sarah cobbled together an impressive Moodle site with countless resources, links and inquiry questions. Each participant was free to learn at their own pace, sampling from “the berry patch” and reflecting on their discoveries about learning and intercultural differences. Some of the topics we discussed included: perspective taking, communication, cultural orientations, identity, language, academic integrity, trust, feedback, safety, gender, conflict, and resilience. We also came to know each other much better, and learned to draw upon the wisdom of our colleagues for insight and direction. I know that I was humbled each and every time we checked in; NorQuest has some very committed, compassionate and thoughtful instructors! And together we learned - that we have so much more to learn. A Table of Contents is not a Curriculum In 1983, I was the new Social Studies, English and French teacher in a small Christian school in Chatham Ontario, which seemed like a universe away from my experiences in Edmonton at the big public schools and the big public university. It was August 1, my first year of teaching, and my principal was asking me to submit “year plans” for every course I was supposed to teach in the coming year by the end of August. Yikes? Where to start? How do you know what you don’t know - if you don’t know what you don’t know? Then he left for vacation. I was left to figure out what a year plan was and how I would create one for the 12 different courses I would be teaching that year. So I spent the next couple of weeks haunting that little rural school. Every other teacher was gone; it was just me, the humidity of Southern Ontario and the thousands of flies that came into the school from the adjoining corn fields and buzzed around my sweating pate. I dolefully went through the filing cabinets in my classroom, I found some archaic readers and texts in the book room and eventually I cobbled together a year plan for each of my courses. It wasn’t easy for a 21 year old kid on his first teaching assignment. But, I made them: each year plan carefully laid out the units, objectives and time allotments for the ten coming months, often based upon units or chapters I found in some of the texts that looked promising. Then he came back. After I submitted my plans and the principal dutifully went through them all making copious comments with his red pen, he handed the plans back to me and asked why I hadn’t looked at the year plans from the teachers before me, or why I hadn’t referenced the provincial curricula for the various courses I was about to teach. Apparently all those documents were right there in his office, in the filing cabinet next to his desk. It would have saved me a lot of time and re-writing. When I shared that I thought his office was definitely “out of bounds” and that he never once said that I might find the materials in there, he just took another drag on his pipe (you could smoke in the schools at that time), shrugged his shoulders and said: “Oh well then - that explains it!” And then I started rewriting my year plans. I learned a couple of valuable lessons that summer. One lesson was that you need to be a self-advocate and ask as many questions as you can, especially when you’ve been given the task of roughing out a plan for the year. The second lesson was a little more complex; I learned about the complex relationship between curricula, year plans (syllabi), resources and textbooks, and the freedom to teach what I thought might be important. So why the story, Jeff? At this moment, all around the college, NorQuest instructors are learning the very same lessons. I know that a number of departments are going through a major curricular review and that certain instructors have been given the responsibility of making a “curriculum map” for particular courses. It’s not an easy task. It may be tempting to simply find a suitable text, copy down a few chapter headings and extrapolate some key learning outcomes and figure all is OK, but the table of contents in a textbook is not a curriculum map. Now this is not a small topic, and certainly not something that can be sufficiently addressed through a Monday Morning Musings, but here are a few things to keep in mind when looking at the big picture of curriculum planning:
So where does academic freedom fit it? Are we teaching robots? No, we have been given a great deal of liberty, provided we meet the learning outcomes, program and government requirements, and accreditation requirements. (See the NQ Academic Freedom Policy) You also need to consider the program and college established curriculum, assessments, processes, and practices Each department may have specific requirements and concerns that can influence or impact your plans. (See again, the NQ Academic Freedom Policy). Think of curriculum maps like a road map; you know that you need to visit Red Deer, Calgary, Cardston, Brooks, Drumheller, Jasper and Banff. There is nothing that says how you get there (bus, plane, moped, skateboard, Harley, or minivan), or when (zip out and come back, plan a round trip, cluster certain municipalities according to festivals, plan according to COVID release times?), or even what else you may look at along the way. However, you do need to visit these specific places within a certain amount of time (by the end of term) and there are things you need to see/explore/do/appreciate in each of the places. In the end though, your students will eventually be assessed on their knowledge, navigational skills and cultural appreciation of Alberta, and hopefully your plans (route), activities and assessments will have helped to prepare them for this. If you want to discuss this further or if you have any specific questions, don’t hesitate to contact one of curriculum consultants or faculty developers at the college. Most of us love talking about this stuff (yes, we are nerds!), and see it as important, challenging and kind of fun. |
AuthorJeff Kuntz Ph.D. ImagesExcept where indicated, images used in the blog posts are personal photos, images from NorQuest College or images from Pixabay. Pixabay is a vibrant community of creatives, sharing copyright free images, videos and music. https://pixabay.com/ Archives
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