Phelan, A. On Staying Too Close to Home: Editorial Notes on the Theme “Educating Educators” Educational Insights, 11(3).
[Available: http://www.ccfi.educ.ubc.ca/publication/insights/v11n03/intro/phelan.html]

On Staying Too Close to Home:
Editorial Notes on the Theme “Educating Educators”

Anne M. Phelan
University of British Columbia

Photo by Maria Enns

 

 

For all the discerning talk, it’s the close at hand, the visible that exerts the overpowering force. And what you don’t see… That’s why in gentle Marylebone the world seems so entirely at peace (McEwan, 2005, 127).

 

St. Mary’s National School was legendary among ‘teachers-in-training.’ An all-boys school with massive discipline problems, St. Mary’s had a reputation for failing students and student teachers. A practicum at St. Mary’s was the death knell to even the most conscientious of lesson planners! Friends, unable to hide their relief at not being placed at the school, tried to comfort me but to no avail.

 

Mr. Heaney, my supervising teacher, seemed as fearful as myself in front of the sixth standard (Grade 6) boys. His voice quivered as he taught; the uneasiness of his body evident as he stood before ‘the lads.’ There was a slight twitch in his left eye as he surveyed them. They smirked at him in return, a few attending to the lesson but most defying his tutorial skills. When a discipline problem broke out he would disappear momentarily, returning with Ms. Brown who was physically large enough to restrain most of the ‘difficult’ boys. Once I witnessed her isolate Johnny. I can still see him dagger in hand, glaring at her defiantly. Silently, she waved the teachers, student teachers and students out the classroom door into the schoolyard. Suddenly our eyes were directed upwards to a figure on the tiled rooftop. Johnny had escaped the maternal clutches of Ms. Brown and was navigating himself towards freedom. The boys below cheered their support.

 

The following morning we arrived to find the school vandalized—posters torn into pieces, students’ work overturned and stepped on, spray paint on blackboards, windows broken and doors bereft of hinges. Teachers’ demoralized eyes brimful with tears. Bewildered student teachers looked on in amazement. Was this what teaching was like ‘in the real world’? Did children like Johnny really seek revenge? Was this how former students really felt about St. Mary’s? We tidied up the best we could and continued on with the day as if….

 

Later that day, my university mentor, Dr. Ryan, arrived to supervise me and the other handful of student teachers. I remember catching sight of him out the classroom window alighting from his car in the parking lot, tweed cap, elegant Crombie coat, shiny leather shoes—a striking contrast to our surroundings—a dilapidated inner-city school full of hunger faces and frozen futures. He observed me trying to engage the boys in Gaelic (Irish) poetry, in a language that had become foreign. I failed horribly. Professor Ryan sympathized and offered some strategies that I might utilize next time. I trembled at the thought…but there would be no next time.

 

Professor Ryan never returned to St. Mary’s but sent instead a young, tentative Professor Cuddihy who was intent on helping myself and my peers succeed. Perhaps the answer to the challenges at St. Mary’s might be found, he mused, in sound questioning—literal, interpretive, analytic and evaluative—and we carried on as if….

 

I stayed close to home during that practicum in April 1979. The palpability of success and the visibility of the impending grade exerted an overpowering influence on the nineteen-year old student teacher. The more difficult and urgent questions about poverty, systemic discrimination, and the politics of the so-called national (public) school in the Free State of Ireland remained in the background.

 

“For all the discerning talk, it’s the close at hand, the visible that exerts the overpowering force. And what you don’t see….”

 

My experience of student teaching is endemic of a “process” reality wherein larger questions of “what” and “why” are usurped by “how.” The student teacher wonders “how” she will cope with the monstrous boys of St. Mary’s. In an instant, and under the influence of modern psychology, pedagogy was posed as “a science of teaching in general” (Arendt, 1993, 182). I learned to ask “good” questions, manage unruly bodies, and appear competent to my supervisors. I did not engage in public dialogue about education and educational ends; I did not wonder about authority in teaching or the manner in which schools shape and are shaped by social inequities (Phelan & Sumsion, In Press). In St. Mary’s there was no allusion to the larger responsibility of teachers and teacher educators towards the life and development of children and for the continuance of the world; an enchantment with “small things”—with the logic of means/how—persisted (Arendt, 1993).

 

The reader may well insist that my lament is more appropriate to the seventies era where courses in social issues in education were largely absent from teacher education programs. I would argue, however, that our engagement with such issues is still relegated to general discussion in the university classroom with minimum engagement with the particulars of field experience. Practicum persists in being a place where student teachers’ are required to perform ‘teacher’ in recognizable ways, ways that have changed little in the past thirty years. Management of unruly bodies, coverage of mandated curriculum and use of effective teaching strategies continue to be the order of day.

 

Education, as Pinar (2005b) reminds us, is so very reluctant to abandon social engineering. If only we can find the right technique, the right modification of classroom organization (small groups, collaborative learning, dialogue), if only we teach according to ‘best practices,’ if only we have students self-reflect or if only we develop “standards” or conduct the right research, then students will learn what we teach them. If only the student teacher could ask the right questions of the boys….There continues to be little sense of a public sphere in teacher education.

 

For Hannah Arendt, the term “public” signifies the world itself, in so far as it is common to all of us and distinguished from our privately owned place in it….

 

To live together in the world means essentially that a world of things is between those who have it in common, as a table is located between those who sit around it; the world, like every in-between, relates and separates men at the same time….The public realm, as the common world, gathers us together and yet prevents our falling over each other, so to speak. (Villa, 1997, 200)

 

Arendt believed that the defining moment of the modern age was “the end of the common world” and as such, she held out little hope for the prospects of “an authentic, comprehensive, and relatively permanent public sphere” (Villa, 1997, 200). We are witnessing the encroachment of the private sphere into the public realm whereby our understanding of what is (our metaphysics) is reduced to what the human subject experiences, expresses, or can represent (Villa, 1997, 184). Positing the human subject as the relational center of all that is and reducing all realms of being to the generic category of experience make possible our anthropomorphic projects of calculation, strategy, and human mastery of the world.

 

“For all the discerning talk, it’s the close at hand, the visible that exerts the overpowering force. And what you don’t see….”

 

What role does education play in every civilization? What is the obligation that the existence of children entails for every human society? Stepping back from my experience at St. Mary’s, three sets of conditions seem to hinder reflection on larger questions in relation to the particulars of life in schools—teacher education’s abiding relationship to the project of mass schooling, discourses of quality, and finally the isolationist politics of universities.

 

Closely tied to the project of mass schooling, teacher education developed as part of the production of the nation state. This is nationalism as a culture of belonging, rather than nationalism as a civilization of culture (Ralston Saul, 2005). Thus the democratic and humanist ideas of civilization, society, and community, which are all dependent on our ability to imagine the other—the one who is not close—are expelled to the margins. Nostalgia for a nation state wherein nationalism becomes conflated with belief and a synonym for ethnicity or religion entails an intentional forgetfulness of the entanglements of place, history, class struggle, and colonialism.

 

Historical amnesia coupled with a disillusionment with the quality of public education undermines a condition of plurality of educational ideals that underpins the education of teachers. The standardization and control of teacher education as a site of cultural production follows. In North America, Britain, and elsewhere, there have been increasing attempts to tighten control over and reduce the autonomy of fields of cultural production such as teacher education. When public confidence in education is systematically eroded, we become nostalgic for a time when teachers were competent and children received quality education. Like travelers returning to a previously visited place, true memories seem like phantoms to us, while false memories or excellence, rigour, and high standards are so convincing that they replace reality (Phelan, 1997). We quickly conclude that teachers are key because they are directly responsible for students’ learning. “Quality teaching means quality education for all students” (Alberta Education, 1995, 2). This kind of logic leads directly to a push for standardization of teaching in the form of skills, knowledge, and attributes.

 

And so the pilgrimage begins towards the shrine of teacher competencies and emphasis on accountability via testing and outcomes-based curricula, fiscal reduction. The teaching profession is thus constituted within a culture of sameness in which practitioners are thought to share the common task of teaching according to a common standard. The operation of power, the inculcation of the same, by experienced professionals on the beginner is thus legitimated within.

 

A narrow professionalism results and this has been exacerbated by the isolationist politics of the universities.

 

A politics that, at crucial periods during the 1930’s and 1950’s, and again today, has sought to isolate the university bases of the intelligentsia from local and regional connections, from linkages with the working class and the activism of the trade union movement, and from organization identified with oppressed and marginalized groups (Smith, 1998, 15).

 

Such politics have been institutionalized within discourses of theory-practice and remain invisible as a set of ruling relations (e.g., the location of faculties of education in the institutional hierarchy; the standing of teacher education in faculties of education) until they are challenged (Twomey, 2005). As such, teacher education plays largely a maintenance role functioning as a large source of institutional income but rarely playing a radicalizing role in cultural/political life of the institution. Graduates leave fully prepared to fit into existing patterns and structures of teaching, schooling, and society (Phelan, 2001).

 

How do we take teacher education from its institutionalized, provincial, and national enclosure, and make it open to new conjectures and ethical inquiries (Brennan and Zipin, in press)? The challenge facing the sub-field of teacher education may not be dissimilar to that facing the education of educators more broadly in the context of doctoral studies, site-based professional development, continuing adult education, and on-the-job socialization. The challenge may be one of proximity. Referring to curriculum theorists in the academy, Pinar (2005a) writes

 

Americans seem unable to attend to the world around them. We suffer the problem of proximity. We require distance. Not all of us enjoy the opportunity of exile, but we can cultivate a state of estrangement. (30)

 

‘Leaving home’ becomes a metaphor for a limit attitude that presses against the normalizing constraints of institutions, religion, and media (Pinar, 2005a). With opportunities for dialogue across differences with others and with the world, we render our familiar preoccupations strange; we begin to understand the ways in which our thought can be subsumed in local patterns of prejudice (Pinar, 2005a).

 

“For all the discerning talk, it’s the close at hand, the visible that exerts the overpowering force. And what you don’t see….”

 

If educating educators is a matter of cultivating estrangement, then the essays in this volume both embody and enact that project variously. Some contributions act as counterpoints to prevailing, educational ideologies. Others display and interrogate experiences of estrangement. Many upset a conception of knowledge as settling things, setting out definitions, securing understanding once and for all (Williams, 2005). Each invites hospitality to new questions, ideas, and practices in the attempt to educate and be educated.

 

In fact, we might read the essays that follow as tragedies and their authors as fools. To defamiliarize prevailing ideologies is in a sense to act the fool. Fools make public what is private and unspeakable. They see the underside and falseness of every situation. The fool’s criticism reflects a naiveté expressed as the inability to understand stupid conventions, taken-for-granted norms, thus exposing that which is hypocritical and falsely unifying in culture. Fools parody the truth (economic hardship) with which ideology (market driven economy) is masked. Playing the fool gives us the right to confuse, to tease, to hyperbolize life, the right to strip off masks, the right to rage at others, the right to betray to the public a personal life…secrets (Bauer, 1988).

 

In this collection, Lorna Ramsay’s essay constitutes a testimony, if you will, to the complex activity of teaching, an activity that can defy logic and invite the intuitive. Following suit, David Coulter and colleagues critique the popular convention of standards. Avraham Cohen and Heesoon Bai search for an educational good without positing yet another foundationalist philosophy. Shauna Butterwick, Jane Dawson, and Jane Munro portray the underside of academic life and how one becomes shaped as a university professor. Not unlike Butterwick and her colleagues, Anita Skinner and Alison Pryer make public what is often viewed as private and unspeakable—the emotional lives of educators and those undergoing an education.

 

Valerie Triggs and Jane Baskill reveal the scripts underlying the masks of educational renewal and educational leadership, respectively. Anthony Clarke exposes taken-for-granted norms in the preparation of school-teachers. Doug Sadao Aoki and Mark Jackson, exemplifying teacher self-study, expose their efforts to engage sociology students in critical thought. Diane Nicholson’s, Leyton Schnellert’s, Betty Rideout’s, Karen Meyer’s, and Brent Cameron’s experience of living and learning in a community of inquiry confronts authoritative discourses about knowledge and knowing.

 

Juyum Kim, Lorna Williams, and Michelle Tanaka remind the reader that education is forever a translational event in which, both fortunately and unfortunately, many can get lost. Pamela Chu demonstrates what happens to students when educators abandon the young. Elaine Decker, the centre of ironic power in this collection, advocates the use of humour to find the courage to risk a more productive form of abandonment—that of taken-for-granted beliefs.

 

It is the power to laugh at oneself, one’s fears, one’s beliefs that liberates and keeps the flux in play, keeps us in movement with the flux, and keeps the openness to the mystery from becoming nostalgic, malingering and moping. (Caputo, 1996: 202-3)

 

In Education, as in St. Mary’s National School, there is much to mope about. But difficulties, even crises, only become disasters when we respond to them with preformed judgements, that is, with prejudices (Arendt, 1993). In doing so, we forfeit the opportunity for reflection that every crisis provides. Following Arendt, the authors in this collection, are at home in the world in ways that inscribe a certain modality of alienation at the heart of existence; each attempts to value this alienation positively (Villa, 1997). These writers help us see ‘the close at hand’ at a distance.

 

Photo by Maria Enns

 

References

 

Alberta Education (1995). Quality Teaching: Quality Education for Alberta Students. A Discussion Paper for consultations on Embracing the Quality of Teaching. Edmonton, AB: Alberta Education.

 

Arendt, H. (1993). The crisis in education. In H. Arendt, Between Past and Future: Eight Exercises in Political Thought (173-196). New York: Penquin.

 

Arendt, H. (2006). What is freedom? In H. Arendt, Between Past and Future: Eight Exercises in Political Thought (142-169). New York: Penquin.

Bauer, D. (1988). Feminist Dialogics: A Theory of Failed Community. New York, NY: State University of New York Press.

 

Brennan, M. & Zipin, L. (In press). Neo-colonization of Cultural Struggles for Justice in Australian Education and Teacher Education. In Phelan, A. & Sumsion, J. (In Press). Critical Readings in Teacher Education: Provoking Absences.

 

Caputo, J. D. (1987). Radical Hermeneutics: Repetition, Deconstruction, and the Hermeneutic Project. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.

 

McEwan, I. (2005). Saturday. Toronto, ON: Alfred A. Knopf Canada.

 

Phelan, A. (1996). Strange pilgrims: Nostalgia and disillusionment in teacher education reform. Interchange, 27(3-4), 331-348.

Phelan, A. (2001). Power and place in teaching and teacher education. Journal of Teaching and Teacher Education: An International Journal of Research and Studies, 17(5), 583-597

Phelan, A & Sumsion, J. (In Press). Introduction: Lines of articulation and lines of flight in teacher education. In Phelan, A & Sumsion, J. (Eds.) Critical Readings in Teacher Education: Provoking Absences. The Netherlands: SENSE Publishers.

Pinar, W. (2005a). Exile and Estrangement in the Internationalization of Curriculum Studies. Paper presented at the Department of Curriculum Studies Seminar Series. Vancouver, B.C.: Faculty of Education, University of British Columbia.

 

Pinar, W. (2005b). Curriculum and study, NOT curriculum and teaching. Unpublished manuscript.

 

Villa, D. (1997). Hannah Arendt: Modernity, alienation and critique. In C. Calhoun & J. McGowen (Eds.), Hannah Arendt and the Meaning of Politics (179-206). Minneapolis: University of Minneapolis Press.

 

Williams, J. (2005). Understanding Poststructuralism. Chesham, Bucks, UK: Acumen.

 

Ralston Saul, R. (2005). The Collapse of Globalism and the Reinvention of the World. Toronto, ON: Viking Canada.

 

Smith, D. (1998). Writing the Social: Critique, Theory and Investigations. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press.

 

Twomey, S. (2005). Disappearing acts: resuscitative reflections on the academy. Gender and Education, Vol. 17, No. 3, August, 333-341.

 

 

About the Issue Editor

 

Anne M. Phelan is an associate professor in the Department of Curriculum Studies, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada; e-mail: anne.phelan@ubc.ca. She conducts research in teacher education and curriculum studies. She has published in journals such as Teaching and Teacher Education, Curriculum Inquiry, and Studies in Philosophy and Education.

 

 

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