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"We speak the language of changemakers" : critical pedagogies and transformative multiliteracies in a… Meredith, Kimberly Janine 2014

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“WE SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF CHANGEMAKERS”: CRITICAL PEDAGOGIES AND TRANSFORMATIVE MULTILITERACIES IN A COMMUNITY OF PRACTICE BEYOND ESL  by Kimberly Janine Meredith  B.Ed., The University of British Columbia, 2005 M.A., Oxford Brookes University, 2003 B.A.H., Queen’s University, 2002  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF  DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Language and Literacy Education)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)  October 2014 © Kimberly Janine Meredith, 2014 ii  Abstract  As educators face the challenge of preparing students for local and global citizenship in societies marked by such cultural and linguistic complexity that researchers have labeled them “super-diverse” (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007),  older models of English as a Second Language instruction that aimed at the assimilation of non-English speakers into English-dominant societies are giving way to a new wave of pedagogical approaches including multiliteracies (New London Group, 2000) and pluriliteracies (Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) that recognize—and create citizens who recognize—the value of linguistic diversity, the necessity of critical linguistic awareness, and the possibility for linguistic inclusion and transformative change.  My research investigates the meaning-making practices and identities of linguistically-diverse youth engaged in transformative multiliteracies pedagogies (Cummins, 2009) at an international seminar on youth leadership for social change. In an alternative international education setting, this study explores what is possible in terms of pedagogy, practice, and policy when we move beyond “ESL”/ “Native English Speaker” to include the plurilingual and multimodal resources, identities and practices of all participants. This study takes a critical approach to language and literacy pedagogy (Morgan & Ramanathan, 2005; Janks, 2010; Norton & Toohey, 2011), multilingualism (Blackledge & Creese, 2010; Alim 2010), plurilingualism (Lin, 2013), and language learning (Norton & Toohey, 2004).  In addition, this investigation takes a community of practice approach to learning and competency (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1999) and a social practice approach to identity (Norton, 2000, 2013) and language (Pennycook, 2010a; Blackledge & Creese, 2010).  iii  This critical ethnography (Anderson, 1989; Carspecken, 2001; Talmy, 2010a) draws on a small stories (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008) narrative approach and a Bakhtinian (1981) discourse analysis to investigate the communicative practices and identity positionings of linguistically diverse youth.  Video ethnography (Heath, Hindmarsh, & Luff, 2010) and interview as a social practice (Talmy, 2010c) were used to approach the rich discursive practices of the community as the participants engaged in activities that encourage and explore diversity, access, power, and design—the four interconnected elements of Janks’ (2009) critical literacy framework.      iv  Preface  This thesis is the intellectual property of its author, Kimberly Meredith.  The research was approved by UBC’s Research Ethics Board, certificate H09-02706.  A version of Section 8.4 has been accepted for publication as follows: Meredith, K. (in press). A case study of framing peace in a multilingual context. In Smits, H. & Navqi, R. (Eds.), Framing peace: Thinking about and enacting curriculum as “radical hope”. New York, NY: Peter Lang Publishing Inc.   v  Table of Contents 	  Abstract .......................................................................................................................................... ii Preface ........................................................................................................................................... iv Table of Contents .......................................................................................................................... v List of Tables .............................................................................................................................. viii List of Figures ............................................................................................................................... ix Transcription Conventions .......................................................................................................... x Acknowledgements ...................................................................................................................... xi Dedication .................................................................................................................................... xii Chapter	  1:	  Critical	  Pedagogies,	  Multiliteracies	  and	  a	  Community	  of	  Practice	  Beyond	  ESL	  ........	  1	  1.1 Introduction ................................................................................................................................. 1 1.2 The Need for Pedagogical Approaches Beyond “ESL” ............................................................. 4 1.3 The Study .................................................................................................................................... 8 1.4 Background and Motivation ..................................................................................................... 10 1.5 Potential Significance ............................................................................................................... 13 1.6 Structure of the Thesis .............................................................................................................. 15 Chapter	  2:	  Theoretical	  Framework	  ........................................................................................	  18	  2.1 Diversity: Language and Multilingualism as a Social Practice ................................................ 18 2.2 Access: Language Learning as a Social Practice ...................................................................... 23 2.3 Power: Sociocultural Theories of Language and Power ........................................................... 28 vi  2.4 Design: Poststructuralist Theories of Language, Identity and Social Change .......................... 36 2.5 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................ 45 Chapter	  3:	  Critical	  Pedagogy	  at	  PSYL	  .....................................................................................	  47	  3.1 Site Description ........................................................................................................................ 47 3.2 Diversity at PSYL ..................................................................................................................... 53 3.3 Access at PSYL ........................................................................................................................ 53 3.4 Power at PSYL ......................................................................................................................... 54 3.5 Design and Identity at PSYL .................................................................................................... 56 3.6 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................ 59 Chapter	  4:	  Methodology	  .......................................................................................................	  60	  4.1 Ethnography .............................................................................................................................. 61 4.2 Data Collection ......................................................................................................................... 71 4.3 Data Analysis ............................................................................................................................ 73 4.4 Data Collection Activities ......................................................................................................... 83 4.5 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................ 95 Chapter	  5:	  Diversity	  ..............................................................................................................	  96	  5.1 Drawing on Diverse Multiliteracies and Performing “Cosmopolitan Cool” ............................ 96 5.2 Five Principles Consensus Building Process ............................................................................ 97 5.3 Pura Vida, Agape, Fluss, Kai (开) and Real: Program Facilitator Five Principles .................. 99 5.4 Diversity Narratives: 勇気(Yuuki): Program Participant Multilingual Principle ................... 108 5.5 Discussion and Conclusions ................................................................................................... 145 Chapter	  6:	  Access	  ................................................................................................................	  149	  6.1 Diversity and Access .............................................................................................................. 149 6.2 Access and Empowerment ...................................................................................................... 150 vii  6.3 Access Practices: “How Can We Help You to Understand More English?” ......................... 155 6.4 Access Narratives: “We Are the Most Good Team” .............................................................. 160 6.5 Discussion and Conclusions ................................................................................................... 201 Chapter	  7:	  Power	  ................................................................................................................	  206	  7.1 Linguistic Power and Privilege ............................................................................................... 206 7.2 The Invisible Knapsack of English Privilege ......................................................................... 211 7.3 The Language Loss Behind Linguistic Privilege in the Communication Crew ..................... 217 7.4 Critical Narrative: “My Story of Identity, Language, and Fitting into a Group” ................... 229 7.5 Discussion and Conclusions ................................................................................................... 271 Chapter	  8:	  Design	  ...............................................................................................................	  274	  8.1 Multilingual Community Building: Designing Communication ............................................ 274 8.2 Multilingual Community Building Analysis .......................................................................... 278 8.3 Interview Responses to Multilingual Community Building ................................................... 286 8.4 Transformative Narrative: “The Whole Like Literal Walk in Someone Else’s Shoes” ......... 297 8.5 Discussion and Conclusions ................................................................................................... 320 Chapter	  9:	  Conclusion	  .........................................................................................................	  324	  9.1 Transformative Identities, Practices, and Pedagogies Beyond NES/ESL .............................. 325 9.2 Limitations and Contributions ................................................................................................ 331 9.3 Implications and Future Directions ........................................................................................ 333 References .................................................................................................................................. 336  viii  List of Tables   Table 4.1 Communication Crew audio-video recordings ............................................................. 89	  Table 4.2 Language Buddy interviews 2010 ................................................................................ 93	  Table 4.3 Communication Crew interviews 2011 ........................................................................ 94	  Table 4.4 Summary of data collection activities ........................................................................... 95	  Table 5.1 Language Buddies 2010 .............................................................................................. 109	   ix  List of Figures  Figure 4.1 Lingasphere examples ................................................................................................. 84	  Figure 5.1 Facilitator Five Principles 2010 ................................................................................. 101	  Figure 5.2 Graham and Tomo’s Five Principles notes ............................................................... 125	  Figure 6.1: Team Yuriko ............................................................................................................. 156	  Figure 7.1 Heritage languages in the Communication Crew ...................................................... 218	  Figure 8.1 PSYL 2010 T-shirt front and back featuring the 5 principles ("yuki" and 勇気 indicated) ..................................................................................................................................... 276	  Figure 8.2 PSYL 2011 T-shirt (back) ......................................................................................... 276	  Figure 8.3 Owen's Linguasphere ................................................................................................ 298	   x  Transcription Conventions  steps right non-linguistic mode (gesture or sound) ()  overlaps with previous utterance [  two speakers’ talk or gestures overlaps at this point {  one speakers’ talk and gesture overlap at this point =  no interval between turns (‘latching’) ?  interrogative intonation (2.0)  pause (silence and/or stillness) timed in seconds (.)  small untimed pause awa::y  prolonged syllable, sound, or movement why  emphasis or stressed word or syllable or gesture REALLY word/gesture noticeably stronger than surrounding talk/gestures  °yes°  word/gesture noticeably softer than surrounding talk/gestures <I have to> words/gestures noticeably faster than surrounding talk/gestures heh heh laughter syllables  xi  Acknowledgements  Thank you to the many mentors I have had in the LLED community and beyond.  I especially appreciate the support and encouragement from my supervisor, Margaret Early, and the guidance of my committee members, Bonny Norton, Maureen Kendrick, and Steven Talmy.      I gratefully acknowledge the financial support from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) and the University of British Columbia (UBC).  Thank you to my LLED colleagues for sharing this journey with me.  Special thanks to Ai Mizuta, Michi, and Jaime Beck for helping me keep perspective and for sharing every step of the way.   My deepest appreciation and much love to my family for your unwavering support and belief in me.  I could not do this without you.  A special thanks to the Pearson and PSYL community for sharing your stories and for being the change-makers that you are.     xii  Dedication     This thesis is dedicated to all the change-makers seeking to be heard.  Keep speaking your language of change. This is also for Madu: you remind me everyday that English is limited, words are not everything, and change is both possible and necessary.    1 Chapter 1: Critical Pedagogies, Multiliteracies and a Community of Practice Beyond ESL  1.1 Introduction In an era of rapid change and increasing diversity, our classrooms have become complex multicultural communities functioning in many ways as microcosms for the changing world.  Our students bring with them an ever-increasing diversity of semiotic resources with which they construct meaning and self.  As a result, it has become ever more important that we as educators seek ways to tap into these and worlds of identification and signification that are meaningful to the individual learners in our communities (Pennycook, 2010b).  At the same time, our role is to work with our learners to build a supportive community where all members can expand their sense of the possible in terms of access to semiotic resources, diverse identities, and imagined futures (Norton, 2000, 2013; Norton & Toohey, 2011).  Our students bring with them not only a diversity of languages and meaning-making abilities, but also a diversity of knowledge and awareness of the global challenges that concern them (Luke, 2004b; New London Group, 2000).  As a self-described “peace educator,” it is always my hope to inspire my students to see themselves as competent communicators, active community members, and agents of social change.  However, at times I found that the diversity overwhelms rather than inspires, the global injustice depresses rather than motivates, and attempts at critical pedagogy bring apathy rather than action.     2 I have had the privilege to work with several global educational communities (Pacific Rim Intercultural Camp1, Peace Boat2, Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership3) explicitly built on embracing diversity, strengthening community, and inspiring egalitarian social change.  Pedagogical spaces such as these are not perfect, but strive to be democratic and socially just: their design challenges the deterministic view that the system controls individual experience and instead aims to create a new culture of alternative pedagogical approaches, identities, and communicative norms.  From my observation, lived experiences in these communities are pedagogically inspirational and afford unique opportunities to investigate the discursive practices that are both creative of and created by a diverse culture of social awareness.  These distinct communities of practice (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1999, 2012) are discursively rich fields of re-creating identities, re-evaluating linguistic resources, and re-imagining future possibilities. They are spaces that question societal and cultural norms including power relations, social structures, relationships, and identities.  Communicative norms—including the dominance of English—are also open for re-envisioning, with significant implications to notions of what it means to be communicatively competent.   This study seeks to document, describe and analyze the pedagogical and discursive possibilities that exist for linguistically diverse participants in an alternative space outside the mainstream educational norm.  Confronted by similar pedagogical challenges of diversity faced by mainstream Canadian schools but unbound by certain curricular and social limitations, ethnographic explorations into the Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership provide unique insight into multilingual and plurilingual (Beacco & Byram, 2007; Coste, Moore, & Zarate, 2009; Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) educational possibilities beyond “ESL.”                                                 1 http://pric.org/ 2 www.peaceboat.org 3 http://www.psyl.ca/   3  1.1.1 A note on terminology As noted by Cummins and Early (2011), “a wide variety of terms have been used to refer to students whose home language differs from the dominant language of the society, which is typically the primary language of instruction in schools,” and these terms are “loaded with ideological connotations and these have been hotly debated in the academic literature” (p. xv). Academics, policy-makers, educators and learners themselves have contested the use of various terms.  Following Cummins and Early (2011), I have decided “to reflect the shifting identity locations of students and their communities by employing a variety of terms” (xvi). When citing academic literature, I mirror the usage of the original author, so “English as an additional language,” “English as a second language,” and “English language learner” are all used within such contexts.  When not citing another’s work, I have opted to use “English language learner” (ELL). Although this term is also contested on the grounds that it defines students “by what they lack, namely adequate proficiency in English” (Cummins & Early, 2011, p. xv) and it is debatable when someone stops being labeled a “learner” and simply becomes a legitimate “user” of English (Cook, 1999), I have elected to use this term (as well as terms that identify the participant’s most fluent language, such as “Japanese-dominant” or “English-dominant”) as it reflects the official policy change in BC from the term “ESL” to “ELL” after recommendations of the Immigrant and Refugee Youth Summit 2011:  The need for a name change was raised repeatedly by youth at the 2011 Summit, as many feel that naming the course “ESL” suggests that English is their second language, when it might be their third or fourth. As well, youth said, the name does not reflect or   4 acknowledge their diverse backgrounds and personal circumstances (Representative for Children and Youth & Vancouver Foundation, 2011).   This leaves the now out-dated term “ESL” available to represent policies and pedagogy that do not “reflect or acknowledge [the] diverse background and personal circumstances” of the learners.  In the same document, it was reported that the youth “shared an interest in modeling inclusion at school instead of segregation through ESL” and said that “ESL classes felt like a form of segregation” (p. 8).  It is this segregated view of “ESL,” explored more in this chapter and throughout the dissertation, that I refer to when I write of a community of practice “beyond ESL.”    1.2 The Need for Pedagogical Approaches Beyond “ESL” In classrooms across Canada and around the world, educators face the challenge of preparing students for local and global citizenship in societies marked by such cultural and linguistic complexity that researchers have labeled them “super-diverse” (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007).  Older models of English as a Second Language (ESL) instruction that aimed at the assimilation of non-English speakers into English-dominant societies no longer serve the needs of our learners or our educators.  When participation in a classroom community of practice (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1999, 2012) is defined by fluency in standard English alone, English language learners may struggle to find legitimacy and voice (Duff, 2002; Morita, 2004; Norton, 2000).  For example, in her classroom ethnography of identity and language learning in a contemporary high school, Duff (2002) found that “some (dominant) voices and not others are valued and heard.  Some [linguistically dominant] students create constructive social and academic networks with other students and staff both inside and   5 outside of class.  Yet others [English language learners] are silent, marginal, and apparently disconnected and disengaged from peers, curriculum, activities, and discourse in the mainstream” (p. 290).  Similarly, Morita (2004) found in university classrooms that English language learners often felt “ignored” or “marginalized” in an English-dominant classroom community, especially when the topic of discussion precluded their background knowledge (p. 589).  In these situations, teachers reported finding it difficult to accommodate for the needs of English language learners “without slowing down the rest of the class” (Morita, 2004, p. 589).  In places where English language learners are removed from mainstream classrooms for ESL instruction, students have reported feeling “segregated” into a class that is a “waste of time” (Representative for Children and Youth & Vancouver Foundation, 2011).  Meanwhile, there are also consequences for the “rest of the class”—the so-called “linguistically privileged” students—as investment in second language learning declines (McPake, Johnstone, Low, & Lyall, 1999) and intercultural understanding is constrained.  Writing from a UK context, Pollmann (2009) comments that only the most economically privileged members of society gain valuable intercultural capital due to restricted access to out-of-school experiences living abroad and extensive extra-curricular foreign language courses.  The linguistic capital in our learning communities has never been greater; yet we as educators are missing opportunities to capitalize on it:  Cummins et al. (2005) articulate “the bizarre scenario of schools successfully transforming fluent speakers of foreign languages into monolingual English speakers, at the same time as they struggle, largely unsuccessfully, to transform English monolingual students into foreign language speakers” (p. 586).  Arguably, under older models of ESL instruction, all students are losing opportunities to broaden their cultural and linguistic resources and the community of practice   6 remains unchallenged and unchanged (Luke, 2004b; New London Group, 2000; Schecter & Cummins, 2003). As boundaries between languages dissolve (Pennycook, 2010a) and possibilities for diverse linguistic practices and identities increase, these older models of English as a Second Language instruction are giving away to a new wave of pedagogical approaches including multiliteracies (New London Group, 2000) and plurilingualism (Beacco & Byram, 2007; Coste et al., 2009; Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) that recognize—and create citizens who recognize—the value of linguistic diversity, the necessity of critical linguistic awareness, and the potential for linguistic inclusion and transformative change.  Superdiversity, for example, is a perspective that sees “complexity, hybridity, ‘impurity’ and other features of ‘abnormal’ sociolinguistic objects as ‘normal’” (Blommaert, 2014, p. 3).  Similarly, in the conclusion to her study of how English language learners negotiated participation and identity in English-dominant academic communities of practice, Morita (2004) makes a profound re-visioning statement:   Given the increasingly international nature of academic communities, the view of L2 learners simply as linguistic or cultural minorities may no longer be adequate or productive.  By the same token, native-speaking students or even instructors are not simply the dominant group, target, or norm, but groups of peripheral participants who also need to be socialized into increasingly heterogeneous communities (p. 599).   This notion raises numerous questions to be explored: if membership in a community of practice is marked by participation in the discursive practices that identify that community (Lave & Wenger, 1991), what are the discursive practices that mark a multilingual, critically multicultural community of practice?  What is the instructor’s role in socializing both themselves and their learners into this heterogeneous community of practice?  If neither native-speaking students nor   7 even instructors are considered the target or norm of a heterogeneous community, who or what is?  What pedagogical practices are effective in re-defining the norm in a multilingual, critically multicultural community? In his often cited article (see for example, Goldstein, 2007; Tierney, 2006; Rogers, Marshall, & Tyson, 2006), Luke (2004b) addresses some of these questions and proposes a parallel re-visioning of teachers and teaching in such heterogeneous communities of practice.  Luke asks, “what if we envisioned as part of our re-thinking of democratic education a reconstruction of teachers and students as world citizens, thinkers, intellectuals, and critics and within this context, as national and community-based subjects?” (p. 1430).  At the heart of this re-visioned community of practice for both teachers and learners is Luke’s notion, drawing on Bourdieu, of intercultural capital:  “that is the capacity to engage in acts of knowledge, power and exchange across time/space divides and social geographies, across diverse communities, populations and epistemic stances” (p. 1429).  Pointing to Luke, I understand intercultural capital to be a form of cultural, social and symbolic capital (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) gained through engaging in diverse communicative practices. Following Cummins (2009), I refer to these diverse communicative practices as transformative multiliteracies and the pedagogies that encourage their development as transformative multiliteracies pedagogies.  See chapters 2 and 3 for a review of related pedagogical approaches and the way they are instantiated at the international youth leadership seminar.  Although schools are beginning to shift policy and pedagogy to embrace linguistic diversity (Blackledge & Creese, 2010; García & Sylvan, 2011; New London Group, 2000), these examples remain pockets in places.  In this context, my research investigates the meaning-making practices and identities of linguistically-diverse youth engaged in transformative multiliteracies pedagogy (Cummins, 2009) and practices at an international seminar on youth   8 leadership for social change. In an alternative international education setting, this study draws on the concept of super-diversity to explore what such diversity may look like in practice and stands as another example of what is possible in terms of pedagogy, practice, and policy when we move beyond the “ESL”/“Native English Speaker” divide to include the plurilingual and multimodal resources, identities and practices of all members of our communities.   1.3 The Study 1.3.1 Setting Research at the Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership offers an opportunity to examine what is possible in terms of identity positionings, empowerment, and multiliteracies practices beyond the institutional constraints of high school ESL programs bound by provincial curriculum, block rotation systems, and required evaluations. The program is held at Pearson College, part of the United World College movement, and shares the UWC mission of “making education a force to unite people, nations, and cultures for peace and a sustainable future” (“Our Story,” n.d.).  The entire program spans five weeks: the first week for planning by the eight adult coordinators, the second week for the training of the twelve youth facilitators (17-18 years olds from other United World Colleges who volunteer to take on a facilitation role within the program), followed by the three-week core program for the program participants.   1.3.2 Participants The three groups that make up the program community each year are the adult coordinators, the youth facilitators, and the program participants.  In 2010, 4 of the 8 adult coordinators, 8 of the 15 youth facilitators, and 40 of the 80 program participants consented to   9 participate in the research project.  In 2011, 4 of the 9 adult coordinators, all 13 youth facilitators, and 35 of the 75 program participants offered consent.4  Research participants will be introduced individually in the data analysis chapters (5-8). Broadly speaking, the majority of the participants (in the program as well as the research project) were English-dominant Canadians, predominantly from British Columbia.  In both years, 5-6 Japanese-dominant participants from Japan made up the second largest linguistic group in the program as well as the study.  These participants came to the youth program through their English as a Foreign Language (EFL) program in Tokyo, Japan and generally had a significantly lower level of English than other participants.  There were also several participants from across Europe including Spain, France, and Germany with varying levels of English proficiency generally higher than the Japanese participants but lower than the Canadian majority participants.  Following Sheridan, Street and Bloome (2000), the classroom instances and interview sections ultimately selected for analysis here are not to be understood as typical cases to be generalized everywhere, but as telling cases that are used to explore these situated practices from a particular theoretical stance.  As further outlined in chapter 4, from the consent process, to the focal participants, to the interviews, to the analysis, to the final write-up there has been a process of increasing focus on certain narratives that I hope will illuminate particular aspects of the phenomena in question.     1.3.3 Research questions This study is an ethnographically inspired investigation into the multiliteracies practices of youth in a pedagogical space designed to explicitly support communicative explorations beyond                                                 4 The majority of the remaining program participants offered full assent, but were not included in the study as they did not bring a signed consent form- a challenge of researching at a camp-like setting.     10 the institutional borders of mainstream second language education.  My research agenda, then, is driven by the following questions: 1. How can transformative multiliteracies pedagogies affect the meaning-making practices and identity positioning of linguistically diverse youth?   2. What multiliteracies practices and pedagogies can be creative of and created by a linguistically inclusive and critically multilingual community?    1.4 Background and Motivation This dissertation, like perhaps all dissertations, is an identity text (Cummins & Early, 2011) in that into its production I have invested my identities as a researcher, educator, language learner, and citizen committed to social justice.  Though Canada is a “multicultural” and “bilingual” nation (Fleming, 2007), my earliest memory of realizing that there were languages in the world other than English was at the age of twelve: a monolingual reality made possible because my family had generations ago lost any trace of heritage languages, my best friend hid the fact that her parents spoke Mandarin, and French was taught as though it were no different than math.  My experiences learning French in Quebec during the 1996 referendum and learning Japanese while teaching English in Japan are part of my story of learning about my own linguistic limitations and privileges.  Through my struggles to communicate, I learned empathy for those learning the dominant language.  Through my Quebec exchange father’s words, “you learn French because you want to; we learn English because we have to,” I learned about power and language. When I taught at an international camp in Japan, I discovered that the North American youth were consistently the least prepared to communicate with empathy and clarity across languages and reflected that it seemed that Canada was failing at its mission to be tolerant   11 and multicultural.  Onboard the Peace Boat, I was introduced to the idea of “Global English”: English as used for intercultural communication that did not necessarily favour the so-called “native” English speaker.  When I began to teach “English as a Second Language” in Richmond, British Columbia, I felt the frustrations of my students struggling to be heard academically and socially.  Searching for a local version of my overseas intercultural educational experiences, I found the Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership and began working on site in the summers between my teaching years.  It was here that I had the freedom, responsibility, and support to explore transformative alternatives for language education.   1.4.1 PSYL: An opportunity to redesign an alternative to ESL When I first became interested in PSYL, I approached Ruth, the director, offering my skills as an intercultural communicator along with my experiences working on board the Peace Boat and a recent certificate in Peace Education from the United Nations Peace University in Costa Rica.  What stood out for Ruth, however, was my Japanese language ability.  She explained that they were facing challenges integrating a group of Japanese participants that came to the program every year from an EFL program in Japan.  Ruth voiced particular concerns that the level of English for these participants was so low that not only did they not integrate socially, they also may not understand safety information.  Over the years, Ruth and other adult coordinators had been working on various strategies for inclusion.  They had consulted with the Japanese EFL program to encourage them to send outgoing participants with a higher level of English and a drive to be global leaders (rather than simply to improve their English skills).  They had also created a “Japanese Show” at PSYL where the Japanese participants shared aspects of their culture and usually performed a song or dance they had prepared before arrival.    12 While recognizing the strangeness of having a show that singled out this one group of participants, Ruth saw this as being instrumental in beginning to break the wall between the Japanese participants and the rest of the community.  A previous coordinator had also begun a Language Buddy program to pair each English language learner with a fluent English speaker to sit with during linguistically-challenging sessions.  They were paired up at the beginning of the program, and a coordinator would check in with them from time to time to see if there were any major problems. However, despite these initiatives, Ruth was still finding that the Japanese participants especially, and all non-fluent English speakers generally, were somewhat isolated within the community. She asked if I would be willing to volunteer for the first week of the program to do some translation work and offer the Japanese participants some core language skills to help them integrate.  I agreed, but also wondered what else I could do.   That year, I worked within the previous systems: I set up the Language Buddies, went over vocabulary for each session with the ELL participants, and helped the Japanese participants prepare for the “Japanese Show”. However, I also began to see that the Language Buddies could be more effective if they were offered intercultural communication skills, so I began to meet with them as a group. This group needed a “cool name” and became the “Communication Crew.”  These meetings became forums for discussing communication problems that existed in the community, and we began to report back to the larger community about solutions we were deriving, such as hand signals for speakers to speak louder or slower and the idea of taking “Language Buddy breaks” to allow the Language Buddies a chance during sessions to review concepts together.  Also in this group, the idea emerged to have a session in which only the languages of the language learners were spoken—turning the tables on the fluent English speakers. This was the first Multilingual Community Building, and post-session reflections   13 suggested that it was a rich learning experience for many of the English-dominant participants—a miniature version of my Quebec exchange experience.  After a discussion amongst the coordinators about the implied essentialism of the well-intentioned “Japanese Show”, the show was expanded to invite all participants to “Show Us Where You’re From”—a widely interpretable title that I hoped would allow everyone to consider their own definition of place, home, and culture.  After the first week, Ruth asked me to stay for the full program and I happily agreed, intrigued by this opportunity to play so freely with pedagogical ideas that were so difficult to implement in the mainstream school system.  At Pearson, the “administration” (Ruth), fellow “teachers” (the other coordinators), and the “students” (the program participants) were already self-selected to be fully onboard with the curriculum of social justice and “doing things differently”. It was simply a matter of pointing out the connection between linguistic inclusion and the pre-existing social justice curriculum.  In the following years, I continued to develop with the support of the community different ways to weave communication and multilingualism into the holistic experience of the program.  1.5 Potential Significance In its design, this study seeks to align theory, methodology, and pedagogy with the concepts of multiliteracies in ways that may contribute to future research in the field. It extends the literature on identity and language learning to include the speakers of the dominant language in a learning community.  This potentially has significant implications for how we approach the structuring of our language support systems and how we approach the teaching of our fluent speakers of the dominant language.  Taking a communities of practice (Lave & Wenger, 1991) approach to both research and pedagogy in our increasingly diverse classrooms allows for a   14 revisioning of teaching and learning with transformative multiliteracies at its core.  As teachers and leaders increase their capacity for multiliteracies, they may be better prepared to see the diversity of their classrooms and communities as powerful resources and may be more invested in designing pedagogy that builds the intercultural capital of all members in their learning communities.  Empirical research on intercultural capital and identity re-negotiations in shifting communities of practices is challenging as such transformations are complex and may occur over lengthy periods of time.  However, intercultural camps such as the Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership that focus on intentional community building are designed with the intent to expedite the transformative process and reveal discursive practices and identity negotiations typical of a community of learning rich in intercultural capital.  This study offers a unique opportunity to explore communicative competencies and identities among youth outside the institutional constraints of the mainstream schooling system: it allows a glimpse into a pedagogy that develops communicative competence beyond “ESL”—a term I use to gloss outdated identities and pedagogical practices that assimilate non-English speakers into an English-dominant community of practice.  Many teachers are endeavoring to explore critical approaches to language teaching and learning that raise critical language awareness and promote the valuation of multilingual competence. This study attempts to record and analyze such an approach. It provides insight into the meaning-making, identity-constructing and community-building processes that open up in critically multilingual spaces. It is my hope that the pedagogy, methodology, and findings may thus inspire the creation of such communities in other pedagogical spaces.  The practices documented here challenge theories that compartmentalize linguistic competencies and policies that separate language learners from target language speakers.  In the words of Cummins and Early (2011) in their introduction to a collection of case   15 studies, “actuality implies possibility.  If a particular intervention has happened, and if particular effects have been observed, then this intervention and its impact can happen” (p. 19). It is in this spirit of possibility that I offer this exploration of pedagogy, meaning making, and the new identities that open up in a diverse community beyond ESL.  1.6 Structure of the Thesis In this chapter I have introduced the research problem, research site, and background and motivation that have led me to this particular research project.  Eight chapters constitute the remainder of the thesis.  Chapter 2 outlines the theoretical framework for the study and reviews the associated literature including a social practice approach to language learning (Vygotsky, 1980; Bakhtin, 1986), a sociocultural approach to language (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991), language learning and identity (Norton, 2000; Norton & Toohey, 2011), and language learning and power (Freire & Macedo, 1987; Nealon, 2008).  This chapter also links these foundational theories with current pedagogical debates and approaches, such as new conceptualizations of multilingualism (Blackledge & Creese, 2010; Canagarajah, 2013; Otsuji & Pennycook, 2010), including super-diversity (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007) and plurilingualism (Lin, 2013; ); and new conceptualizations of critical pedagogy (Freire & Macedo, 1987), including critical literacies (Janks, 2009; Morgan & Ramanathan, 2005), multiliteracies (New London Group, 2000), and transformative multiliteracies pedagogies (Cummins, 2009).  Chapter 3 is a relatively short chapter that situates the study by providing a description of the specific pedagogical activities at PSYL and connecting these activities to the theoretical approaches outlined in Chapter 2. In addition, the pedagogical activities are situated within   16 Janks’ (2009) interrelated model of critical literacy, connecting diversity, access, power, and design to critical pedagogy.  These pedagogical activities are also referred to throughout the data analysis chapters.  Chapter 4 introduces the critical ethnographic methodological approach to the study of the culture of this community.  It outlines the context of the study and my use of ethnographic observational and participatory fieldwork, audio and video recordings, and semi-structured and open research interviews in the data collection process.  It also explains my process of data analysis, drawing on tools from a Bakhtinian discourse analysis (Bakhtin, 1981; 1986) and a small stories narrative approach (Georgakopoulou, 2007; Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008) in order to make sense of the social and cultural practices of the community.  This is followed by a description of data collection activities, the interview process, and other discussion of the trustworthiness and ethicality of the approach taken.  Chapters 5-8 provide description of the social, cultural, and pedagogical practices in the community through data analysis and discussion of how transformative multiliteracies can transform discursive practices, identity investments, and communities of practice.  These chapters are organized thematically around Janks’ (2009) four aspects of critical pedagogy: diversity (chapter 5), access (chapter 6), power (chapter 7), and design (chapter 8). They are also organized chronologically as the transformative multiliteracies pedagogy unfolded during the program: from setting the founding principles of the community (chapters 5), to working in linguistically-diverse pairs called “Language Buddies” (chapter 6), to discussing linguistic power and privilege (chapter 7), and finally to transforming the discursive practices of the community through a Multilingual Community Building session (chapter 8).  Each chapter begins with a brief literature review in order to situate the analysis within the field.  Most chapters then include   17 an analysis of classroom/community discourse followed by a section analyzing interview data pertaining to the classroom/community discourse.  These chapters end with a discussion section linking the findings back to the research questions and core arguments of the thesis.  Finally, Chapter 9 provides an overall discussion and conclusion of the study, theoretical considerations, implications and future research and pedagogical directions. In particular, this chapter draws from across all four data analysis chapters to summarize the various identity positionings and multiliteracies practices that formed and were formed by this diverse community of learners.  As an empirical study of how youth engaged in transformative multiliteracies (Cummins, 2009) make sense of communication and identities in a super-diverse (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007) environment, this study makes grounded contributions to theory, policy, and research, as well as to practice.  This chapter further outlines how the findings of this study support current shifts towards further acceptance of first languages in the English learning classroom (for example, British Columbia’s ESL policy which states that “respect for and valuing an individual’s first language(s) and culture is important in order for English language learners to succeed” and “student learning is enhanced by having proficiency in more than one language” (British Columbia Ministry of Education, 2011)) by providing an example of how this policy can be implemented for the benefit of all.  For places where such policies are not in place, the findings here provide an example of how researchers and teachers can “read between and behind the lines (cf. Cooke, 2004) [of policy], to interpret the ambiguities and gaps in critical ways that open up moments and spaces for transformative pedagogical intervention” (Ramanathan & Morgan, 2007, p. 448).  The chapter concludes with my hope for students, teachers, researchers and policy-makers to continue transformative work to support thriving multilingual communities of practice that embrace super-diversity beyond ESL.     18 Chapter 2: Theoretical Framework  In order to understand the identity positionings and discursive practices of youth in a semiotically diverse community of practice, this study draws on various theoretical perspectives. Broadly speaking, the approach taken is a situated practice approach to language, language learning, power and identity. In this chapter, I briefly review the literature of poststructuralist theories of language, sociocultural theories of language learning, sociocultural theories of language and power, and poststructuralist theories of language and identity.  The four inter-related components of Janks’ (2009) critical literacy framework—diversity, access, power, and design—are woven throughout the theoretical framework indicating the close connection between theory and pedagogical practice.  Each section includes a sub-section that outlines critical pedagogical approaches that are informed by the theoretical constructs discussed and that subsequently inform the pedagogical approach taken at the site of study.   2.1 Diversity: Language and Multilingualism as a Social Practice Because this study is interested in investigating communicative practices in the context of socially just and democratic pedagogies for social change, it builds on theories that acknowledge that the individual text or utterance is in a dialectic relationship with the culture, the context, and the language as a system. These are theories of language as a social practice and have their roots in poststructuralist notions of language.  Poststructuralists such as Bakhtin (1981, 1986) shift the subject of language and literacy research away from the structuralists’ (Saussure, 1966) focus on language as an idealized underlying system (Saussure’s langue) and instead provide the arguments and analytic tools to study the situated utterances of speakers in interactive context.    19 Utterances shape and are shaped by their context (Bakhtin, 1981; Halliday & Webster, 2002).  For Bakhtin (1981, 1986), the meaning of an utterance comes from its relation to other utterances in a chain of communication: each utterance links back to previous utterances through intertexuality as speakers struggle to create their own meaning from words used by others in the communicative sphere, and each links forward to future utterances through addressivity as speakers construct their meanings in such a way as to encourage desired responses.   Through post-structuralist theories such as intertexuality, the notion of “language” as a system is replaced by “language” as a set of available linguistic resources represented by the words of others in a given sphere of communication (Bakhtin, 1986).  The New London Group (2000) calls these resources available designs that designers draw upon to create their own meaning in the situated practice of meaning making. Pennycook (2010a) emphasizes that “languages” and perceived boundaries that separate them are social constructs around all available linguistic resources and that speakers draw from as they construct their meanings and identities in local social practice.  In this way, “identity, practices, and resources are inextricably linked and mutually constituted” (Norton & Toohey, 2011, p. 414).  For Bakhtin, the ideological struggle of taking an Other’s words and making them one’s own is deeply consequential: “the ideological becoming of a human being… is the process of selectively assimilating the words of others” (Bakhtin, 1981, p. 134). As is explored in later sections of this chapter, finding the voice of the self in the words of others is an act in which power, knowledge, and identity are implicated, negotiated, constructed, lost and gained.   Recent social practice research has turned its attention to multilingualism and multimodality, highlighting the diversity of the meaning making process.  The reality and prevalence of multilingual and plurilingual (García & Sylvan, 2011) social practices including   20 code-switching (Wei, 2011; Kamwangamalu, 2010), code-crossing (Kamwangamalu, 2010), code-meshing (Canagarajah, 2011), and translanguaging (García & Sylvan, 2011; Pennycook, 2011; Canagarajah, 2011, 2013) observed in and out of classrooms have lead researchers to posit new monikers to describe what was previously known simply as “multilingualism.”  These terms include super-diversity (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007) to describe the state of unprecedented and unpredictable cultural, social and linguistic diversity in our globalized world, heteroglossia (Bakhtin, 1981) to describe complex discourse with traces of the coexisting social, political and historical forces that have shaped it, metrolingualism (Otsuji & Pennycook, 2010) to describe the creativity and fluidity of language in flux across cultural, historical and political border, and the aforementioned plurilingualism (García & Sylvan, 2011; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) to describe the normalization of translingual practices and multilingualism at the level of the individual.  Other researchers, such as Blackledge and Creese (2010) have responded to these diverse situated practices by instead expanding and redefining multilingualism as “the appropriation and incorporation for meaning-making of any and all linguistic resources which come to hand” (p. 17).  As Blommaert and Rampton (2011) note, “the local naming of these practices is itself often indeterminate and contested, both among users and analysts” (p. 7).  Blackledge and Creese (2010) also acknowledge that while academics are coming to view linguistic resources as boundless entities, boundaries between languages still exist in terms of educational policy and in individual teacher and learners’ language ideologies with consequences for both pedagogical practice and learner identity.  Further to this complexity, there is increasing recognition that the linguistic mode is only part of the meaning-making process (Kress & van Leeuwen, 2001) and that all communication is multimodal (New London Group, 2000).  As a result, mode-switching (Wei, 2011) and multimodal design practices (New London Group, 2000)   21 combining audio, spatial, gestural, visual, and linguistic modes of meaning have received increasing attention.  For Janks (2009), this multimodal and multilingual diversity is a key component of critical literacy.  Diversity provides design resources, produces contestation and change, and reflects and produces history, identity and value (Janks, 2009, p. 26).   In a community of linguistically diverse learners, these theories are productive in approaching the ways in which participants construct meaning across perceived linguistic and cultural barriers.   2.1.1 Critical pedagogies based on diversity and multilingualism as a social practice Theories that acknowledge the multilingual and multimodal nature of communication and meaning-making call for corresponding pedagogical practices and policies.  Criticisms of the monolingual bias (Cenoz & Gorter, 2011) favouring the monolingual native speaker as the goal for language learning, the two-solitudes (Cummins, 2005) approach to keeping the two languages apart in bilingual education, and the One Language Only or One Language at a Time ideology (Wei, 2011) focus on the discord between multilinguals’ natural tendency to create meaning across languages and the schools’ policies to keep them separated (Blackledge & Creese, 2010).  As mentioned in Chapter 1, Cummins et al. (2005) identify the “bizarre scenerio of schools transforming fluent speakers of foreign languages into monolingual English speakers, at the same time as they struggle, largely unsuccessfully, to transform English monolingual speakers into foreign language speakers” (p. 586).  They call for an educational approach that actively promotes cross-lingual transfer and language awareness and that encourages students to view their multilingual talents as a valued component of their identities (Cummins et al., 2005). In Britain, Blackledge and Creese (2010) similarly found that the rich multilingual reality at the   22 micro-level of their ethnographic study was in stark contrast to the monolingualism reflected in the “mainstream” educational policies and consequently advocate for a “flexible bilingualism” that values the resourcefulness of multilingual students as they draw from multiple languages to negotiate their meanings and identities. Hélot (2012) questions the prevailing monolingual habitus of many educational systems and calls for the development of inclusive and tolerant multilingual policies.  García and Flores (2012) describe dynamic plurilingual pedagogies that build on students’ “linguistic and cultural strengths” and develop students’ “multilingual awareness and tolerance” (p. 242).  Gorter and Cortez (2011) call for a holistic multilingual approach to education that mirrors the multilingual practices of students with access to multiple sets of resources. Similarly, Kramsch (2010) describes the symbolic competence and power achieved through multilingualism: she emphasizes the double sensibility and dual perspective multilinguals gain as they not only subject themselves to the symbolic order of another language, but also retain an outsideness, embracing an entirely different symbolic realm and symbolic power than monolinguals.  As educators and researchers in multilingual spaces, we must seek pedagogical and theoretical approaches that honour and grow these symbolic competencies in our students and participants. In order to develop teaching practice from the strategies learners use themselves (Canagarajah, 2011), tap into the rich funds of knowledge that our diverse learners bring to the classroom (González, Moll, & Amanti, 2005), expand identity options (Norton, 2000, 2013), and prepare our learners for success in a multilingual and multimodal world (New London Group, 2000), various bi/multi/plurilingual and bi/multi/plurliteracies  pedagogical approaches have been developed (Cenoz & Gorter, 2011; Cummins, 2009; García & Flores, 2012; García & Sylvan, 2011; Hélot, 2012; Hornberger, 2010; Martin-Jones, Blackledge, & Creese, 2012; New   23 London Group, 2000).  These include the pluriliteracies (García & Sylvan, 2011) approach adopted by the Common European Framework, which notes that the language learner does not “keep these languages and cultures in strictly separated mental compartments, but rather builds up a communicative competence to which all knowledge and experience of language contributes and in which languages interrelate and interact” (“The common European framework of reference for languages: Learning, teaching, assessment,” n.d., p. 13). The goal of language education is no longer “mastery” of multiple languages, with the “ideal native speaker” as the ultimate model; instead, “the aim is to develop a linguistic repertory, in which all linguistic abilities have a place” (“The common European framework of reference for languages: Learning, teaching, assessment,” n.d., p. 14).  In the North American context, multiliteracies (New London Group, 2000) has been proposed as a framework with pedagogical practices that support multilingualism and multimodality.  Multiliteracies pedagogy is grounded in providing students with situated practice and overt instruction in designing meaning multimodally and multilingually.  Other elements of multiliteracies pedagogy as well as transformative multiliteracies pedagogies (Cummins, 2009) are explored in later sections.   2.2 Access: Language Learning as a Social Practice In addition to theories that understand language as a social practice, this study draws on theories of education that understand language learning and competency as highly context-dependent situated practices.  Sociocultural theories of language learning such as Vygotsky’s (1980) and Wertsch’s (1998) emphasize the social nature of learning as learners appropriate the cultural tools—including language—used by others and employ them for their own expressive means. By this view, learning is optimized when the learner is guided by an instructor or other   24 more expert community member through the zone or proximal development (Vygotsky, 1980) just beyond what he or she could achieve alone.  Access to cultural tools is dependent on access to other community members skilled in the use of these tools. These social theories of learning suggest the need for a community approach to linguistic development.  According to Lave and Wenger’s (1991) communities of practice theory, learning involves a deepening process of participation in a community of practice wherein individuals enact their identities as members of a community through participation in the discursive practices that identify that community.  Lave and Wenger describe newcomers’ participation as socially-situated and involving interacting with more experienced community members (“oldtimers”)—a process called legitimate peripheral participation (Lave & Wenger, 1991).  Wenger clarifies that in order to gain access to this form of learning, participants must be “granted enough legitimacy to be treated as potential members” (1999, p. 101).  From the community of practice perspective, competence is understood as “situated abilities”—abilities that are given value within a given community of practice (Wenger, 1999).  This study explores what competencies gain value in a community of practice through transformative multiliteracies.  This approach to learning is particularly appropriate for a community-centred study of communication because it emphasizes the role of not only the teacher, but all community members in the learning process.  While communities of practice has been criticized for having too strong a focus on the community, seemingly relegating the learner to the role of being indoctrinated into the unchanging regime of competency of the community (McLellan, 1996), Wenger has responded by re-emphasizing the centrality of identity to the theory of learning as a highly contingent, ever-changing “social becoming” (Wenger, 2012, p. 3).  In addition, Wenger has acknowledged that there is a constant negotiation between individual experience and a community’s regime of competency such that it   25 is possible for an individual’s experience to “pull a community’s regime of competency along” (Wenger, 2012, p. 2). This is an important concept when looking at the role and valuation of non-dominant language competencies in a super-diverse community of practice such as PSYL.  There is evidence that the discursive practices that support the legitimate peripheral participation of language learners in our communities have become increasingly recognized in national approaches to language assessment.  The Canadian Language Benchmarks created a list of Can Do Statements that “describe what learners can do at benchmarks 1 to 12 in the Skills of Listening, Speaking, Reading and Writing” (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 4).  This list is relevant not only because the Canadian Language Benchmarks have become the main assessment tool for new immigrants to Canada- thus holding a lot of authoritative power to determine the future of thousands of English language learners- but also because it has couched within it a theory of learning as a social practice.  Not only does it list “a general description of your ability” and “the kinds of things that people at your benchmark can usually do,” it also includes a descriptions of “when you are able to best show your ability” (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 4). What is interesting about this last feature is that the description is focused on the other interlocutor in the communicative situation.  For example, at Listening Level 1, the learner is able to “understand a few words and very simple phrases” and “understand common polite phrases” when the following conditions are met: • I can see the person • The person speaks slowly and helps me understand • The person uses pictures or gestures • The person speaks about things I know or need (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 4)   26 The moderated level of speech, comprehension help, use of pictures or gestures, and necessity of a familiar topic are all features of levels 1-3.  Other interlocutor-specific requirements, such as “the communication is face-to-face (one-on-one or in small groups)” and “the communication is moderate in length” continue through to level 8.  This means that a language learner’s communicative success- and thus community inclusion- is dependent on interlocutor discursive choices for the critical lower two-thirds of the benchmark spectrum.  Speaking is similar.5  In order for a level four speaker to best demonstrate their ability to “give simple information about common everyday activities, experiences, needs, and wants” (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 27), the following interlocutor-dependent conditions are necessary: • I can see the person or talk very briefly on the phone • The person sometimes helps me • I can sometimes use pictures and gestures (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 27) Who is this person who “helps” the learner?  Who slows their speech, uses gestures, and keeps the topic familiar?  If it is only the ESL instructor, the learner’s ability to express him or herself as well as his or her identity as an English speaker are limited to the classroom where all of the other interlocutors are also language learners.  While this limited comprehensible input and language learning peer community is very important, it leaves the learner excluded from the so-called “mainstream” peer group community of practice.                                                   5 While the other two measured Canadian Language Benchmarks skills, reading and writing, are beyond the scope of this thesis, it is interesting to note that just as speaking and listening success are interlocutor-dependent until level 8, reading and writing are text-dependent until level 8. The length, modality and access to a dictionary are all part of reading and writing success in levels 1-8. For example, level 1 reading requires “the topic is very familiar, there are many pictures, the words are very easy to read” and “I use a dictionary in my language: (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 38).  Writing is audience dependent, so level 1 writing requires “the topic is very familiar”, “someone helps me” and “I write for a familiar person” (“Can Do Statements,” 2013, p. 52)   27  2.2.1 Critical pedagogies based on access and language learning as a social practice  Sociocultural theories of language learning argue against policies that separate language learners from the target language community.  Denying language learners access to target language speakers is denying language learners access to peripheral participation and language learning opportunities.  Lave and Wenger allude to the “subtle and pervasive” ways that schools inadvertently sequester newcomers and prevent peripheral participation (Lave & Wenger, 1991, p. 104).  According to Janks’s (2009) model of critical literacy, without access to dominant forms, language learners are ghettoized, remain on the margins, and remain subject to the exclusionary force of dominant discourses.  The so-called “mainstreaming” of English language learners in English dominant classrooms has been the subject of much policy and academic debate (as noted in Leung, 2007).  Morita (2004) and Cummins and Cameron (1994) argue effectively that the English language learner can no longer be viewed as a peripheral participant and in fact is the mainstream.  Classrooms with linguistically diverse students are best understood, then, as multilingual communities of practice.  However, researchers of classrooms in which English language learners are integrated with fluent English speakers have found that simply placing the learner in the same room as target language speakers does not constitute access to dominant linguistic forms.  Iddings (2005), for example, found in her classroom observations that access to dominant forms and competencies remained limited as a parallel but separate community of practice emerged amongst English language learners.  So long as legitimacy and participation in the community of practice continues to be dependent on English language fluency as defined by policy-makers, teachers, and—crucially—English-dominant   28 peers, the English language learner remains on the periphery.  In order to move beyond this perspective, a theory and pedagogy of power and of transformation is needed.   2.3 Power: Sociocultural Theories of Language and Power The social practices of language and language learning do not happen in a neutral environment: society’s power relations are implicated in every interaction.  Foucault’s (1980; 1982) theory of power is useful here as it is also conceived of as a social practice, produced and reproduced in discourse and circulating in complex ways.  Foucault’s contemporary Bourdieu (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) envisions interactions occurring in a market or field in which participants are differentially positioned according to the unequal distribution of various interrelated types of resources or capital (p. 14-15).  This capital is not only economic (material wealth), but is also cultural (knowledge, skills), symbolic (prestige or honour), linguistic (speaking the dominant language or accent), and social (networks and contacts).  Bourdieu’s theories reveal how the dominance and legitimacy of a particular set of linguistic practices in our societies and classrooms over other possible languages or modes is in fact socio-culturally constructed and involves the misrecognition of the legitimacy of the dominant form by those with and without access alike.  Not only linguistic forms, but speakers, too, can be deemed “legitimate” or “illegitimate” depending on the degree to which their habitus, or way of being, matches these dominant forms (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991). This misrecognition leads to symbolic violence of dominated forms and their speakers who struggle to find the “right to speak” and the “power to impose reception” (Bourdieu, 1977). This study builds on Bourdieu’s ideas to explore the possibility that the dominance of English in a multilingual world and the   29 dominance of the written word in our increasingly multimodal field of communication can be deconstructed and reconstructed in a ways that minimize symbolic violence. The hegemony of English has been deconstructed by many scholars who have taken what Tsuda (2008) has called a Critical/Transformative position with regard to the global spread of English, perceiving English dominance as a serious problem causing injustices, inequalities and discriminations. These scholars include Phillipson (1992), whose concept of linguistic imperialism draws attention to the ideologies inherent in the spread of English; Pennycook (1994, 2007), who outlines the hegemonic and gatekeeping roles of the cultural politics of the global spread of English and calls for a disinvention of the myth of English as an international language; and Tsuda (2008), who connects English hegemony causally to the English Divide: the inequalities between the English-speaking people in the world and the non-English speaking people based on differential access to power and resources.  A specific problem associated with the English Divide is linguicism: “ideologies and structures where language is the means for effecting or maintaining an unequal allocation of power and resources” (Phillipson, 1992, p. 55).  This project takes up the Critical/Transformative position through transformative multiliteracies, described further in section 2.4.2.  2.3.1 Critical pedagogies based on sociocultural theories of language and power Morgan and Ramanathan (2005) are among those who have noted the “critical turn” in language and literacy education based on sociocultural theories of language and power.  Freire’s  critical pedagogy (Freire & Macedo, 1987; Freire, 1974) was among the first to insist that teaching language and literacy was not simply teaching the skills of reading, writing, listening or speaking.  From a Freirian perspective, learning to read the word involves learning to read the   30 world: understanding and critiquing the socially-constructed historical and political nature of power differentials between different semiotic forms (Freire & Macedo, 1987; Giroux, 2011).  While it can be argued that all multilingual education is “critical” in that it embraces diversity and/or facilitates access to linguistic resources, Freire’s critical pedagogy and the other critical approaches discussed here move beyond Janks’ (2009) diversity and access to bring an explicit focus on power or domination in language education.  Some form of explicit focus on the role of power in language and literacy education is included in the New London Group’s (2000) critical framing, Blackledge and Creese’s (2010) critical multilingualism, Janks’ (2009) critical literacy, and Fairclough’s (2001; Fairclough & Wodak, 2011) critical discourse analysis.  The New London Group (2000), building on Freebody and Luke’s (1990) Four Resources Model that cited the ability to “critically analyze and transform texts” as one of four requirements for reading effectively, highlight critical pedagogy as a necessary part of multiliteracies pedagogy by including critical framing along with the situated practice and overt instruction mentioned in section 2.1. Critical framing interprets the social and cultural context in terms of relations of power (New London Group, 2000, p. 35).  Blackledge and Creese’s (2010) critical multilingualism problematizes the privileging of English by drawing attention to how the hegemony of English is discursively constructed as well as to what linguistic resources are privileged, who has access to these resources, and who has the power to determine which resources are privileged.  Similarly, Stein (2008) questions which modes are privileged in a given context and who has the power to determine which modes are permitted.  This study can be understood as a grassroots example of such critical pedagogy in that it speaks back to and informs these theories and related educational policies.   31 The need for critical approaches to teaching English is demonstrated by studies such as Norton’s (2000) that examined the struggle of English language learners to find the right to speak and power to impose reception (Bourdieu & Johnson, 1993) in a community of practice that does not place high cultural capital on the “ESL” identity.  Similarly, in his study of the cultural production of high school “ESL students,” Talmy (2005) found that the ESL category was culturally constructed to be low in prestige and that ESL students themselves contributed to the reproduction of this power differential by distinguishing themselves from an even lower prestige category, “Fresh of the Boat” (FOB).  In her study of the discourse socialization of Japanese dominant speakers in an English-dominant university community of practice, Morita (2004) found that the non-fluent English speakers reported feeling marginalized and silenced as they experienced the “profound struggle to (re)construct their identities within the classroom” (p. 596).  Morita suggests increased transparency (Lave & Wenger, 1991) on behalf of the teacher to explain cultural references and make discussions more accessible and increased intervention by the teacher to manage turn-taking in an egalitarian manner.  However, Duff (2002) found that in spite of a well-meaning teacher’s attempt to deliberately allocate turns to certain students and include specific course content that would allow culturally diverse students to make cultural connections, “the students did not take up the identity positions attributed to them” and “instead, local students often seized the opportunities to talk” (p. 310). Thus it is Morita’s (2004) student-centred suggestion that is most avidly explored in the present study: “it may also be helpful to inform all members of the classroom community about participation issues and encourage them to achieve equity collaboratively” (p. 599).  While this specific critical pedagogical strategy represents a gap in the literature, there have been many studies that have brought a critical pedagogical perspective to the study of English Language Learning.    32 Many researchers and practitioners have been inspired by Freire to bring a critical approach to the teaching of English.  From a Freirian (1974) perspective, the raising of critical consciousness is the key to emancipatory education when teaching the “oppressed”: those most disserviced by the dominant distribution of resources and capital.  Wallace (2003), for example, argued for the importance of critical literacy skills for language learners so that they can critique how they are being positioned by the dominant text.  Furthermore, in a study closely related to the present study, Lau (2013) worked with an English Language teacher to develop an emergent critical literacy curriculum based on Cummins’ (2009) Academic Expertise Framework and Janks’ (2009) synthesis model of critical literacy in response to the ELL students’ concerns about language-based discrimination and bullying.  In addition, critical language awareness (Pennycook & Alim, 2009) and critical dialect studies (Sterzuk, 2008) have been used as means to empower traditionally marginalized students by recognizing their speech practices in the academic sphere. For example, Alim (2010) has written much about the positive effect critical language awareness practices have on African American Ebonics speakers in the United States.  By bringing the discourse of hip hop into the language classroom (Alim, Ibrahim, & Pennycook, 2008) and by having students take on the role of critical language ethnographers (Alim, 2010), speakers of a marginalized dialect come to simultaneously recognize both their extensive linguistic code-switching repertoires as well as recognizing the critical issues of how particular dialects are positioned by the dominant society.  Similarly, Sterzuk (2008) advocates for dialect awareness studies for speakers of First Nations dialects of English.  However, it is important to note that all members of heterogeneous communities need to be aware that they are “dialect speakers” and that some dialects and languages are positioned differently by different cultural and political forces: just as the Ebonics speakers realize the considerable code-switching   33 repertoire they have in their linguistic arsenal as they vary their speech with various interlocutors, the mono-lingual mainstream English speakers need to recognize that having their home dialect privileged in their peer and academic community gives them the advantage of legitimacy while also potentially a linguistic impoverishment as they may lack the impetus that other speakers feel to alter their speech for various interlocutors.  Issues of accommodation and appropriation could be critically framed and mediated through such a pedagogical approach.  The fact that many of these researchers do not include linguistically privileged participants (fluent speakers of the dominant language of the particular context) is in part due to an educational system that in secondary school separates linguistically marginalized students from their linguistically privileged peers for the purpose of offering extra linguistic support (“English as a Second Language” class).  In the teacher preparation literature, there are several examples of studies that look at methods of increasing the intercultural capital and multiliteracies practices of linguistically privileged teaching candidates in preparation for teaching linguistically and culturally diverse students (see for example Goldstein, 2007; Richards, 2006; Rogers et al., 2006; Seidl & Conley, 2009; Singh & Doherty, 2004; Tierney, 2006).  However, nearly absent from the literature are accounts of research that investigate these same pedagogies working with both linguistically marginalized and linguistically privileged participants in a common community of practice.  This is in contrast to common approaches to racism, sexism, and homophobia that routinely take a whole-community approach to critically framing privilege, naming oppression, and dialoging across difference to work for equitable solutions by shifting ideologies, identities, discourses, and practices. It is this gap in the theoretical and practical literature that this study seeks to address.   Luke’s (2004a) definition of “critical” is especially useful in this respect:    34  To be critical is to call up for scrutiny, whether through embodied action or discourse practice, the rules of exchange within a social field.  To do so requires an analytic move to self-position oneself as Other even in a market of field that might not necessarily construe or structurally position one as Other…. This doubling and positioning of the self from dominant text and discourse can be cognate, analytic, expository, and hypothetical, and it can, indeed, be already lived, narrated, embodied, and experienced. (p. 26). The potential for critical pedagogy to enable this “doubling and positioning of the self” and the achievement of what Freire (1974) has called critical consciousness is explored in chapters 7 and 8. The importance of including an overt theory of domination and power in the teaching of literacy is outlined in Janks’ (2009) synthesis model of critical literacy: • Honouring diversity without teaching a theory of power “leads to a celebration of diversity without any recognition that difference is structured in dominance and that not all discourses/genres/languages/literacies are equally powerful” (p. 26) • Teaching access to the dominant form without a theory of power “leads to a naturalization of powerful discourses without an understanding of how these powerful forms came to be powerful” (p. 26). • Teaching design without a theory of power “runs the risk of an unconscious reproduction of [dominant discourses/practices]” (p. 26) Janks (2009) argues that non-critical English as an Additional Language instruction simply reproduces the misrecognition (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) of English as the legitimate dominant language, and that English teachers need to produce students who “understand why linguistic diversity is a resource for creativity and cognition, who value all the languages they   35 speak, and who recognize the paucity of English only” (Janks, p. 12). She argues that there are limitations to monolingualism and dangers to English domination: “we can help students to understand what English is and what it is not by making use of the wealth of linguistic resources that our multilingual students bring to our English classes.  In this way, we might convince all our students that English is not intrinsically superior to other languages, while at the same time teaching them to value linguistic diversity and to respect people who have extensive multilingual repertoires” (p. 149). For Janks, learning another language is acquiring another habitus (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) and an additional identity that allows us to denaturalize and disrupt our “taken-for-granted ways of being in the world” and “to imagine and own other possibilities” (p. 149).   Finally, when Bourdieu (1991) refers to “dominant” and “dominated” speakers, he evokes what Cummins has called “coercive power relations,” defined as “the exercise of power by a dominant individual, group, or country to the detriment of a subordinated individual, group or country” (p. 7).  However, not all relations of power are coercive.  Collaborative relations of power are also possible: Collaborative relations of power, by contrast, reflect the sense of the term “power” that refers to “being enabled,” or “empowered” to achieve more. Within collaborative relations of power, “power” is not a fixed quantity but is generated through interaction with others. The more empowered one individual or group becomes, the more is generated for others to share. Within this context, empowerment can be defined as the collaborative creation of power. (Cummins, 2009, p. 7). The possibility of collaborative power relations between speakers with diverse access to dominant linguistic forms is a primary motivation of this study.   36  2.4 Design: Poststructuralist Theories of Language, Identity and Social Change The theory of transformation and social change outlined in this study is deeply rooted in poststructuralist theories of language and identity.  Essentially, the pedagogical goal is the creation of new identity possibilities (Cummins & Early, 2011). These new identities are associated with transformed and transformative discursive practices (Gee & Green, 1998).  These discursive practices are likewise both creative of and created by a transformed and transformative community of practice (Halliday & Webster, 2002) through the dialogism of utterance and context (Bakhtin, 1981).  In this way, a shift in identity can indicate a shift in discursive practices, which in turn shifts the culture of a community of practice.   From a dialogic perspective, social change is inextricably linked to language change. Context shapes utterance and utterance shapes context; language shapes utterance as utterance shapes language; and language shapes culture as culture shapes language.  Within these dialogic relations lies a model for social change.  As Wallace (2003) notes, discourse potentially has transformative emancipatory power (p. 26).  Changing the way we speak can change the world in which we live.  I argue that power (Foucault, 1982), capital (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) or agency (Wallace, 2003) (defined by Ahearn (2001, p. 113) as “the socioculturally mediated capacity to act”) are the determinates of which direction the shaping primarily occurs: if an agent is imbued with or is able to imbue him or herself with enough power, his or her utterances will shape the discourse, which will in turn shape both the situation and the language, which can in turn shape the culture.  When an agent is not imbued with much capital in the field, it is more likely that the culture of the field will shape the situation which will in turn shape the discourse and potentially render the agent voiceless or strictly limit the utterances that will be accepted into   37 the discourse.  This power, in turn, comes from an agent’s identity and positioning in the field.  Following the situated practice theoretical framework outlined above, the perspective of identity taken here is inspired by post-structural understandings of the subject and subjectivity (Foucault, 1980) as discursively constructed and context-dependent.  Such poststructuralist theories of subjectivity are helpful in this study of transformative multiliteracies because, as Norton and Toohey have recently noted, “a conceptualization of subjectivity as multiple, non-unitary, and dynamic leaves room for the view that individuals need not be locked forever in particular positions,” and “thus, pedagogical practices have the potential to be transformative in offering language learners more powerful positions than those they may occupy either inside or outside the classroom” (Norton & Toohey, 2011, p. 417).  Norton (2000, 2013) builds on Bourdieu’s conceptualization of symbolic power (1993) to show how language learners can use identity to shift power relations within a field or market and gain the right to speak and power to impose reception.  Her constructs of investment and imagined identities/communities have been particularly productive in the field of identity and language learning.  Norton found that learners invest in target language practices based on the belief that this investment will increase their symbolic, social, or cultural capital and grant them access to the imagined communities and identities of their imagined futures.    From a social practice perspective, speakers take up positions in social fields through discourse and in doing so are formed by the field (Bourdieu & Johnson, 1993; Hanks, 2005).  It is in and through discourse that identities are performed, created, negotiated and transformed.  This process does not occur in isolation: discursive positioning always occurs in interaction.  Bakhtin’s (1981) notions of addressivity and intertexuality are useful here as they acknowledge that, even in monologue, one discursively positions oneself in relation to a real or imagined   38 addressee and draws on past utterance by others or the self to mark one’s position in the field.  Small stories analysts (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008; Georgakopoulou, 2005, 2007; Watson, 2007) have demonstrated that much identity work is done in the narratives that occur in everyday talk.  In contrast to typical definitions of narratives that imply a coherent story with a beginning, middle, and end, I follow these analysts to use the term “small stories” as “an umbrella term that captures a gamut of underrepresented narrative activities, such as telling of ongoing events, future or hypothetical events, and shared (known) events, but it also captures allusions to (previous) tellings, deferrals of tellings, and refusals to tell” (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008, p. 381).  Through these tellings and non-tellings, participants engage in identity work, and “such continuous and repetitious engagements ultimately lead to habitus (plural) that become the source for a continuous sense of who we are—a sense of us as ‘same’ in spite of continuous change” (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008, p. 379). The small stories approach is a particularly rich approach to the study of identity because it allows for the analysis of identity work happening on at least two levels: first, at the level of the narrative, examining the self projected in the story-world; second, at the level of the narrating, examining the self constructed through the process of telling.  In addition, Georgakopolou and Bamberg argue for a third level: that which connects the small story to the grand narratives of the context and culture.  Researchers into how social identity categories such as race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, and age affect language learning draw on cultural theorists such as Hall and Cohen (1999) to view these categories not as fixed identities, but as dynamic processes that are constantly negotiated, made and remade in interaction.  These social identity categories are also memberships into “imagined communities” (Norton, 2000, 2013) that may be marked by discursive practices and norms.  Georgakopoulou (2007) argues that an examination of discourse   39 identities or story-telling roles through “a micro-analytic emphasis on the details and sequential management of talk” allows the analyst to trace the “extra-situational, portable identities” that the speakers bring into and negotiate through the discourse (p. 115). She echoes Goffman (1974) in warning that these relationships between discourse identities and social identities are “loose couplings” (p. 16) rather than deterministic pairings.  These “loose couplings” need elucidation in order to further explicate how it is possible for the analyst to make connections between our discursive data and our participants’ or our own social identities.  Bourdieu (1993) notes that the field offers various identity positions to various social agents.  I understand Georgakopoulou’s (2007) “social identities” as being the identity positions offered to particular agents by participation in particular cultures or societies.  These may be related to gender, race, class, sexual orientation, age, ability, education, or any of many other identity categories made relevant in a given field.  These identities are diverse and power among them is never neutral. Similarly, I understand Georgakopoulou’s (2007) “discourse identities” as being the discursive positions offered to particular agents by particular discourses.  For example, in a narrative discourse, storytelling roles such as author and animator are available to agents.  The relationship between social identities and discourse identities is not direct or deterministic because the relationship between the culture and the discourse that make up the field that offers these identity positions is not direct or deterministic.  They are mediated through language and situation.  According to De Fina and Georgakopoulou (2012), situational identities are “brought about by local telling roles and are connected with the topic at hand and the activity underway. In turn, situational identities link the local with the distal context of social activity… by invoking the participants’ differential types and degrees of knowledge and skills regarding the activity underway” (p. 90). In this study, reflexive awareness of situational identities such as researcher,   40 research participant, interviewer, interviewee, teacher, and student is key to understanding how discourse is shaped and how transportable social identities including age and race are brought into each interaction.  In addition, this study explores situational identities specific to the site, such as program participant, program facilitator, program coordinator, and especially “Language Buddy,” a role new to all participants (see chapter 3).    In addition to discourse identities, social identities, and situational identities, this study is particularly interested in linguistic identities: identities associated directly with access to certain resources and engagement in certain linguistic practices.  In communities of practice where English is constructed as the dominant language, much research has explored the binary of the socially-constructed identities “Native English Speaker” (NES) and “English as Second Language Speaker” (ESL).  Rampton (1990) and Leung, Harris and Rampton (1997) have argued that what they called the “idealized native speaker” identity is inadequate in this era of global social change and needs to be displaced in favour of inquiries into the language expertise, language inheritance, and language affiliation of all learners, including ethnic majority learners who may not have expertise, inheritance, or affiliation with standard English practices (see section 2.1 for further literature in this area).  Talmy (2010b) has investigated the production of ESL as a low-prestige, stigmatized identity category divergent from the “mainstream” norm produced through ESL policy, curriculum, pedagogical practices as well as the oppositional cultural production of local ESL students. “ESL” is a social designation in the education system that differentiates those whose linguistic resources match those for whom the “regular” classes were designed from those whose linguistic resources do not. In high schools, this becomes a matter of scheduling: in order to gain access to the linguistic resources they need to participate in “regular” classes, “ESL” students need classes devoted to the explicit teaching of these   41 resources.  The designation is political and economic: the ministry provides funding to school districts based on the number of students deemed as needing extra linguistic support, so they need to be designated with the “ESL” label in order to be scheduled and funded properly. However, there are social consequences of this streaming, as Talmy’s research into the “Fresh off the Boat” discursive phenomenon demonstrates (see section 2.2 and Duff’s (2002) classroom ethnography of identity and language learning in contemporary high school). Oldtimer ESL students resent the “ESL” designation for its differentiation from the norm (Talmy, 2008) and, as Norton’s (2000) research shows, for separating them from the very speakers with whom they need access to in order to participate fully in the community of practice.  At the seminar on youth leadership, young learners are able to meet each other outside the institutionalized “ESL” construct. An ethnographic approach to this community allows a rare opportunity to examine how linguistically diverse speakers are discursively positioned without the “ESL” label. Following Cummins and Early (2011), these speakers are instead referred to here as culturally and linguistically diverse participants, English language learners, or simply as Japanese (or other language)-dominant speakers (see section 1.0.1 for more on terminology).   Also relevant to this study is research into identity and foreign language learning.  The majority of the English language learners in this study come from contexts such as Japan where English is taught as a “foreign” language.  Here the literature pertaining to world Englishes and identity is relevant.  Kachru (1997) writes not only of multiple Englishes, but also of “multiple identities” of English. Just as Norton (2000; 2013) problematizes notions of the “good language learner” in an immigrant ESL context, Kramsch’s (2010) work questions the image of foreign language learners (in this case English-dominant speakers learning languages other than English in America) as monolingual, privileged, or secure in their identities and cultural capital. She also   42 works against the common assumption that foreign language learning has little effect on identity as it is taught in a decontextualized setting. Kramsch breaks new ground by explicitly associating affect, emotions, and identity to language learners’ experiences of symbolic form (p. 50).  The development of these kinds of new linguistic identities that disrupt the NES-ESL binary is central to this thesis.    2.4.1 Pedagogical approaches to identity and design Identity and design are intimately linked in critical pedagogy. Design is the pedagogical mechanism of transformation and social change.  Design is also the final dimension of Janks’s (2009) critical literacy framework: critical literacy involves both “changing dominant discourses as well as changing which discourses are dominant” (Janks, 2009, p. 27). Janks defines design as “the ability to harness the multiplicity of semiotic systems across diverse cultural locations to challenge and change existing discourses” (p. 25): • “Diversity provides the means, the ideas, the alternative perspectives for reconstruction and transformation.  Without design, the potential that diversity offers is not realized” (p. 26) • Access without design “maintains and reifies dominant forms without considering how they can be transformed” (p. 26) • “The deconstruction of dominance, without reconstruction or design, removes human agency” (p. 26). The New London Group (2000) emphasize that through the process of design, meaning-makers not only create new meaning, they also remake themselves.  Identities are reconstructed and renegotiated through the creative process of redesigning.   In addition, through the construct of   43 investment (Norton, 2000, 2013) designers invest their identities into the design process, thus making the identity ?? design relationship a dialectic.  These theoretical concepts find pedagogical practice in the pedagogical approaches that infuse this study.   2.4.2 Multiliteracies and transformative multiliteracies.  In addition to the concept of design, the New London Group’s (2000) multiliteracies pedagogy is built on four pedagogical components: Situated Practice, Overt Instruction, Critical Framing, and Transformative Practice.  Like many pedagogical frameworks, multiliteracies includes Situated Practice—access to available Designs and immersion in the reading of multimodal texts and the embodying of identities of a discipline for real audiences and real purposes—and Overt Instruction—describing available Designs and Designing and knowing the vocabulary and “lingo” of a discipline.  However, multiliteracies goes beyond the Situated Practice and Overt Instruction to include Critical Framing—understanding why the current texts are designed the way they are, why some practices have become the “norm” in the discipline, and who benefits from the current designs—and, most notably, Transformative Practice—creating new meaning through redesigning the norms of practice to match new contexts and creating new texts, new identities, and new experiences in the discipline.  By focusing on critiquing power relations and transforming meaning making practices, multiliteracies becomes a social change pedagogy, as is reflected in the subtitle of the seminal text, “Multiliteracies: Literacy Learning and the Design of Social Futures” (my emphasis).  “Designing social futures” entails more than decoding texts; it entails a deep understanding of social constructs and social transformation.  Transformative multiliteracies pedagogy (Cummins, 2009) expands on the multiliteracies   44 framework by bringing more focus to both power and identity.  Cummins presents transmission, constructivist, and transformative pedagogies as being nested orientations.  While transmission and constructivist orientations are based on Overt Instruction and Situated Practice, a transformative pedagogical orientation requires Critical Framing and Transformative Practice.  In Cummins’ (2009) words, “transformative pedagogy enables students to scrutinize and actively challenge patterns of power relations in the broader society” (p. 6).  The primary way that societal power relations are expressed in the classroom is through the negotiation of identities.  In addition, identity investment is understood to be a “central component of learning” (p. 5) and the negotiation of identities is understood to be “a primary determinant of whether or not students will engage cognitively in the learning process” (p. 5).  Transformative multiliteracies pedagogies enable students to “gain insight into how knowledge intersects with power… [and] to scrutinize and actively challenge patterns of power relations in the broader society” (p. 6).  These pedagogies ultimately have great impact because “their focus on creating context of empowerment for CLD [Culturally and linguistically diverse] students directly challenges the operation of coercive relations of power in schools and society” (p. 6).  This study shares this transformative approach to multiliteracies pedagogy. Published studies of multiliteracies and transformative multiliteracies offer examples of how students are empowered when they are able to write in their dominant language or use their preferred modalities to express their identities (Cummins, 2009; Giampapa & Sandu, 2011).  Studies also show how students gain access to new identities such as author (Giampapa & Sandu, 2011; Mirza, 2011; Prasad, 2011), journalist (Kendrick, Chemjor, & Early, 2012) or artist (Prasad & Dykstra, 2011; Early & Yeung, 2011) as they use technology to create “identity texts” (Cummins, 2006): the creative products of students’ maximum identity investment and cognitive   45 engagement.  These products are held up as a “mirror” for students to see their identity projected, as well as a means through which students generally receive positive recognition and feedback from the learning community.  Building on this idea, the production of identity texts can be understood as multiliteracy practices through which students transform the value of their identity within the field of the learning community.  The concept of identity text is used throughout this study to understand the investment of identity into the multilingual utterances and multimodal products created by the diverse participants.   2.5 Conclusion In this chapter I have outlined the key theoretical perspectives that situate this study as well as the pedagogical debates and approaches inspired by these theoretical perspectives.  Foundational theories of language as a social practice were shown to be linked to contemporary ideas about multilingualism, multimodality, and diversity in education.  Foundational theories of language learning as a social practice were shown to inform current debates over how to best provide language learners with access to target language communities.  Sociocultural theories of language and power situate recent discussions of the nature of power as a coercive or collaborative force as well as an argument to include linguistically privileged speakers in this study of diverse linguistic identities.  Finally, post-structuralist theories of language, identity and social change demonstrated the inter-connectedness of language, society, situations, discourse, and identities in transformative pedagogical approaches.  Throughout the chapter, Janks’ (2009) critical literacy framework with its constructs diversity, access, power, and design connected theory to pedagogy and also served as a reminder that all of these theories are necessarily interrelated.  The centrality of these concepts continues in the remaining chapters as diversity,   46 access, power, and design serve as organizing principles for the thesis in terms of pedagogy (chapter 3), methodology (chapter 4), analysis (chapter 5-8), and synthesis (chapter 9).     47 Chapter 3: Critical Pedagogy at PSYL  The previous chapter introduced some of the theoretical constructs and pedagogical debates that inform this study.  This chapter further contextualizes the research through a description of the site and how the theories and pedagogical approaches of chapter 2 are actualized at PSYL.  This gives some grounding for the methodology, analysis, and discussion to follow in the remaining chapters.  This brief chapter first describes the site, then describes the activities of the program in relation to identities and Janks’ (2009) critical literacy elements: diversity, access, power, and design.  Site-specific terms and the core pedagogical activities are introduced throughout.  3.1 Site Description The Pearson Seminar on Youth Leadership (PSYL) has been selected as a site for discursive community of practice research for several reasons.  First, it is a community rich in cultural and linguistic diversity.  Although the majority of the eighty program participants (ages 14-18) are from North America, roughly one third are international.  The majority of these are from Japan and Europe. In addition, the sixteen youth facilitators (ages 16-19) bring a truly global perspective: they are either past participants or students from the twelve United World Colleges (UWC) offering the two-year International Baccalaureate program around the world.  The students at the United World Colleges are themselves recruited globally on a merit-based system, so the facilitators are a strong representation of global youth leadership.  These facilitators come to PSYL between their first and second years in the UWC program, so they typically bring with them a variety of discursive competencies gained from experience within a highly multicultural, multilingual community of practice.  At the same time, these UWC students   48 are often seeking new ways to increase the communicative practices and challenge the discursive norms of even these highly diverse learning communities.  Finally, there is a team of eight adult coordinators who facilitate the programming with the intention to create transformative experiences for the participants and facilitators as potential future community and global leaders.  The coordinators are “educators” in a broad sense, bringing with them diverse global experiences in educating for sustainability and social change.  In addition to this discursive diversity, PSYL was chosen as a site because of the central role that the development of discursive practices takes in the community, as can be seen through a brief analysis of the five program foundations (from www.psyl.ca).  Beyond its central commitment to “equity, social justice, and critical thinking,” the program is stated to be built on a “belief in innovative notions of democracy,” which is demonstrated by the introduction of consensus-based decision-making early in the program.  This innovation in the way decisions are made and communities are built means discursive norms are shifted rapidly, potentially expediting cultural change.  PSYL describes itself as an “intentional community”: a community focused on building community.  One hour every morning is devoted to “Community Building”: a whole-group meeting to use consensus-based decision making as conflicts arise.  The program is further built on “ways of knowing and learning that incorporate conventional, traditional, and alternative processes” (www.psyl.ca).  This is Discourse in the broad sense of word defined by Gee (2000): “a Discourse is composed of distinctive ways of ‘being and doing’ that allow people to enact and/or recognize a specific and distinctive socially situated identity’ (p. 2).  By embracing multiple ways of knowing and learning, PSYL identifies itself as a multidiscursive environment for identity enactment and recognition.  Finally, the program is committed to “exploring and developing creative aspects of ourselves” and “enjoying and savouring life,   49 playing and having fun.”  These more traditional camp-like values encourage the development of multimodal discursive practices typical of a camp setting: dance, art, spoken word, song, play, and the multisensorial minutia of daily life are all legitimate resources for identity and community construction.  Taken together, these foundations have the potential to make PSYL a discursively-rich experience in identity and community exploration and construction.  A further analysis of the official discourse of the community demonstrates that PSYL offers a linguistic landscape with the potential to either be an English-speaker-centred model or a more transformative multiliteracies-centred model.  According to its website (www.psyl.ca), the program “provides a unique learning environment in which students from North America and from other nations around the world meet for a three-week seminar.” As a “seminar,” the program is created through active participation and shared meaning-making.  The location of the camp on the west coast of Canada, the emphasis on the “students from North America” compared to the “othering” of the students from “other nations around the world,” and the fact that the website and most promotional material for the camp is in English indicate that, like most intercultural youth programs (see, for example, the Pacific Rim Intercultural Camp in Japan, and The Global Young Leaders Program in America, Europe, and China), the medium of communication will be English.  In fact, my first position at the camp was to provide “ESL support” to help to integrate the “ESL participants” within the flow of the program (see section 1.3.1 for my history with the program). In terms of linguistic identities (as described in section 2.4), because PSYL is situated in a country that is English-dominant and in a world that is increasingly English-as-a-Lingua-Franca dominant, the English language offers its speakers a great degree of symbolic power and cultural capital.  All participants are expected to speak English well in order to participate.  On   50 their website at the bottom of the registration form is the following statement: “participants must be fluent in English- capable of following and participating in advanced level discussions” (www.psyl.ca, accessed March, 2012).  That being said, the reality is quite different.  Every year there are participants who attend through English learning programs in Japan (8-12 participants) and Spain (1-3 participants) who are participating in the program partly because they would like to improve their English.  There are also various other participants who come with diverse levels of English ability—many of whom do not self-identify as “fluent” in English.  Finally, the facilitators have diverse multilingual resources.  Coming from the United World Colleges world-wide, most have a relatively high level of English proficiency, but still many do not self-identify as “fluent.”  Other ways in which English is constructed as the dominant language include English-only promotional materials (including posters, pamphlets, and the website), English as a common language amongst the coordinators (in 2010 and 2011 only one identified as having English as anything but a first language), and English being the language of instruction for the regular school-year program on the site (Pearson) and of the majority of the PSYL sessions. As a result, “Native/Fluent English speaker” (NES) and “English Language Learner (ELL)/English as a Second Language Speaker (ESL speaker)” potentially become critically significant social identities, with the former being the unmarked, assumed, mainstream “norm” imbued with high symbolic capital that allows its speakers the right to speak and the power to impose reception and the latter being the marked, peripheral variation that limits its speakers in terms of communicative rights and powers.    In tension with these aspects of situated discourse that suggested a native English-speaker-centric model of instruction, the promotional material for PSYL also suggests the potential for an alternative approach.  The seminar is a “unique learning environment” where   51 “students are encouraged to broaden their perspectives on key world issues and are provided with the leadership skills they need to become leaders on themes of ecological sustainability, social justice and international understanding” (www.psyl.ca, accessed March, 2012, my italics).  A learning environment that marginalizes its international participants cannot create leaders on the theme of international understanding; a learning environment that promotes linguistic privileging cannot create leaders on the theme of social justice; a learning environment that unquestioningly adopts Anglo-centric communicative practices cannot broaden perspectives on key world issues.  Through its proclamation to be a “unique learning environment,” PSYL is a fertile ground for critical approaches to multilingualism. In Janks’ (2009) interdependence model, pulling aside the English language learners for extra linguistic support would provide access but without a theory of diversity, power, or design. Although providing these students with basic access to the dominant language and basic content of the seminar through vocabulary lists, simple translation, scribing and explanation is important, this approach “leads to the naturalisation of dominant discourses without an understanding of how these powerful forms came to be powerful”, “fails to recognize that difference fundamentally affects pathways to access and involves issues of history, identity and value”; and “maintains and reifies dominant forms without considering how they can be transformed” (Janks, 2009, p. 131). In response to this tension, in 2009 I shifted the focus of my role at the seminar from “ESL support” to the “promotion of intercultural capital.”  Instead of simply pulling aside the English language learners for linguistic support, I offered to work with anyone interested in intercultural communication to create a pedagogical space focused on the exploration of language and culture.  This allowed for an increased valuation of diversity and recognition that “different ways of reading and writing the world in a range of modalities [and languages] are a central resource for   52 changing consciousness” (Janks, p. 24).  Finally, in 2010 and 2011 I began researching and recording while at the same time bringing an increased explicit awareness of power and design into my practice as an educator and as a researcher.   In order to see beyond the monolingual surface structure of the youth program, new perspectives on multilingualism and multimodality are needed, including Blackledge and Creese’s (2010) view of ‘multilingualism’ as “the appropriation and incorporation for meaning-making of any and all linguistic resources which come to hand” (p. 17).  In a multicultural setting such as an international seminar on youth leadership, there are incredibly rich reserves of diverse linguistic resources available to be accessed by the participants for the purpose of community meaning-making.  However, many of these resources are not utilized because there is such a strong privileging of English linguistic resources.  Blackledge and Creese account for this phenomenon by taking a critical perspective on multilingualism.  They ask such questions as “who has access to what linguistic resources?”; “What counts as valuable, legitimate linguistic resources?”; and “Who has the power to negotiate the value of linguistic resources?” Like in most international education programs, at PSYL the participants who have access to English linguistic resources, usually by virtue of birth in North America or by privileged education elsewhere, can potentially claim the power to speak with greater facility.  Those who can claim the power to speak can also claim the power to negotiate the value of these resources.  However, the present study aims to explore how transformative multiliteracies pedagogies can shift identities and challenge this distribution of power.       53 3.2 Diversity at PSYL In this study, diversity and multilingualism as a social practice are especially relevant as participants introduce themselves through what I have called “linguaspheres”: each participant draws their perceived linguistic resources in concentric circles indicating the relative size of their pool of linguistic resources.  They also share this with the community.  With the whole group, they stood in a large circle and I called out each language indicated in at least one linguasphere diagram.  Participants then ran in towards the centre of the circle to indicate their perceived fluency level (the centre of the circle representing complete fluency).  They shouted a greeting in that language as they did so, and the community did their best to respond with the same greeting.  On that day, I also asked for people who wanted to be “Language Buddies”—to receive and/or give linguistic support—to sign up for the “Communication Crew”.  On the first day of the Communication Crew, the participants shared their linguistic resources again, this time using hand gestures to indicate the size of each of their language competencies.  While these activities are not assumed to give any indication of anyone’s objective linguistic competencies, they are effective in highlighting the multilingual diversity of the community.  From the first day, the multiple languages and multiple modes of communication were made explicit and significant as rich resources for the community.  This in turn may have precipitated the use of these diverse resources in community tasks such as reaching a consensus on the five core values of their community.  This is discussed in depth in chapter 5.    3.3 Access at PSYL  In this study, the activity that most directly reflects theories of access and language learning as a social practice is the Language Buddy system.  Participants of the Communication   54 Crew are grouped into linguistically diverse pairs or small groups in which at least one member has indicated a desire for English support.  These Language Buddies work together during linguistically challenging sessions, such as the Five Principles consensus building process on the second day of the program, and attend the Communication Crew meetings to participate in guided check-ins and gain inter-lingual communication skills.  The roles, identities, and practices associated with gaining and providing linguistic access through the Language Buddy system are explored in chapter 6.  3.4 Power at PSYL At the international youth seminar, various positions are institutionally imbued with authority.  Even in its stated spiral model of leadership (whereby power is viewed in a non-hierarchical spiral with some agents closer to the centre but spiraling the rest of the community in with them), a high degree of authority is given to the adult director and coordinators who plan the majority of the sessions and overall program ahead of time and guide the facilitators and participants through these pre-determined experiences.  These adults are imbued with the authority to begin and end each session, to gain the participants’ attention, and to guide both the topic and the turn-taking flow of large group discussions.  Often the coordinator will also have the “final word” in a session, drawing together the ideas presented in a way that signposts the direction of the overall community.  However, while the rank of the adults in the community is acknowledged, there are also specific ways that the coordinators and director at PSYL adopt a more spiral-based model of leadership, especially when compared to traditional schooling.  First, the educators at PSYL are   55 not given institutional authority to grade or evaluate the participants in any formal way.6  Second, there is an openness towards explicit discussion of rank.  In the Power and Privilege session, the statement “unacknowledged rank breeds anger” was introduced, and this was discussed in relation to the rank of the adults in the community.  The educators explicitly acknowledge the rank they have as adults playing a particular role in the community.  In addition, the program’s institutionalized commitment to experiential education opens more space for participant empowerment and voice.  While a session may be guided by a coordinator, they are often designed to facilitate the voices of the participants.  For example, in the six-hour Five Principles consensus process, the coordinator offers the steps to work towards consensus, but the discussion and choice of principles is in the hands of the participants themselves.  Similarly, in Circles, the coordinator creates the space for the participants to speak freely and openly about their experiences and feelings without interruption or time constraint.  Finally, the overall plan of the program is to empower each participant to see him or herself as a “leader”.  As such, the purpose is to help all participants to find the authority within themselves to speak and be heard both within the community and upon their return to their home communities.   While power is implicated in all pedagogical practices, at PSYL power becomes the explicit pedagogical focus in a day devoted to power and privilege about half-way through the program.  On this day, participants participate in a simulation of global privilege and inequality.  They are randomly assigned groups that are “countries” represented by areas marked by tape around the tennis court.  They are told they must create the best possible country, bringing their ideas to a central figure (played by a program facilitator) for approval.  They also are subjected                                                 6 With the notable exception of the “Credit Crew” (about a dozen participants receiving credit for participation it the program in exchange for the completion of a few additional tasks)   56 to natural disasters that may destroy what they have built or shrink their play area.  They may be “arrested” and brought to a jail far from their country.  What participants don’t realize is that they are not being treated equally. Certain countries have been pre-determined to have less resources, more natural disasters, less approval, and more jailings.  The emotional process of realizing that the game play is not fair often leads to a revolution.  When the game ends, a long debrief process occurs that makes connections to global inequality as well as personal privilege including race, gender, class, sexuality, and language.  Within this discussion, Peggy McIntosh’s (1990) list of white privileges and Earlham College’s (n.d.) list of straight privileges is introduced.  In the Communication Crew, linguistic privilege is explored more deeply and a list of English privileges is created by the participants.  This process is explored in depth in chapter 7.  3.5 Design and Identity at PSYL The kind of empowerment promoted at PSYL through such discourse as “be the change you wish to see in the world” (a quote often attributed to Gandhi and prevalent in the promotional literature of the program), “we speak the language of changemakers” (an utterance developed in the discourse of PSYL 2011 that was selected by the community as their T-shirt slogan), and “we are one of the stories changing the world” (an utterance developed in the discourse of PSYL 2010 that was selected by the community as their T-shirt slogan) suggests that agents are able to change the culture(s) around him or her by changing their personal actions.  “We speak the language of changemakers” in particular seems to highlight the discursive nature of this process of social change.    57 The Communication Crew is the site of most linguistic design activities at the seminar.  This group is entrusted with the task of improving communication in the program, and during every session suggestions for making communication more equitable are brought forth.  A typical session would begin with a check-in in Language Buddy pairs/groups to find out how each member, but especially the non-English dominant members, are faring.  Communication challenges are identified and shared with the whole group.  This leads to brainstorming possible solutions, strategies, innovations, or interventions either to be applied within the Language Buddy groups (such as deciding to do a language exchange at lunch every day or a volunteer to post a running list of English slang expressions to post in the cafeteria) or brought to the larger community.  An example of a larger community intervention was the idea to shift linguistic resources for a community building session.  After a discussion of linguistic privilege, the suggestion was made by a participant to have one community building where no English was spoken.  In 2010, the idea was to simply eliminate English.  In 2011, the idea was to limit community building to the dominant languages of the English-learning participants of the Communication Crew (Japanese, German, and Spanish).  A description and analysis of this intervention is in chapter 8. According to Hanks, Bourdieu’s field is “a configuration of social roles, agent positions, and the structures they fit into and the historical process in which those positions are actually taken up, occupied by actors (individual or collective)” (Bourdieu & Johnson, 1993; paraphrased in Hanks, 2005, p. 70).  At an international youth leadership seminar, official social roles and agent positions include “program participant”, “program facilitator”, “program coordinator” and “program director.”  However, other social roles are made relevant through the curriculum, such as gender-related identities such as “male,” or “female” (including “transgendered”) on Gender   58 Day; place-based identities such as “Japanese” or “Torontonian” at the Show Us Where You’re From variety show; performance-related identities such as “singer”, “musician”, “poet”, “actor” or “dancer” at other shows; class, race, and sexual-orientation –related identities such as “upper class”, “middle class”, “lower class”, “First World”, “developing world”, “black”, “white”, “Asian”, “First Nations”, “gay”, “straight”, and “bisexual” on Power and Privilege Day; and “social activist”, “change-maker”, “student”, “teacher” and “leader” throughout the program.  As a result of this study, “research participant”, “researcher”, “interviewee” and “interviewer” also became relevant categories.  Community members variously take up these positions throughout the program in ways that are more or less familiar to them.   While all of these identity positions (and many others) are relevant in the program, this study is particularly interested in examining linguistic identities.  In the field of the Communication Crew and its related activities, the relevance of language-based identities becomes explicit.  As in most international/intercultural learning settings where English is the de facto lingua franca, “Native English Speaker” and “English Language Learner” have immediate social significance from Day One.  The purpose of the Communication Crew is to recognize a more diverse range of communication-based identities and to enhance communicative practices in the community.  Throughout the program, identities including “Japanese speaker,” “French speaker,” “German speaker,” “communicator beyond words,” “multilingual,” “monolingual,” and “interculturally competent communicator” proved to be socially significant.  As linguistically diverse participants are paired up to support each other throughout the program, many of these identities are explored under the larger identity category of “Language Buddy.” The analysis of relevant identities is woven throughout the thesis with a special focus on the Language Buddy identity in chapter 6.   59  3.6 Conclusion This chapter has offered a brief description of some of the core activities and philosophies of the PSYL program and the Communication Crew within the seminar in an attempt to make an unfamiliar setting familiar to the reader prior to a description of the methodology (chapter 4) and analysis (chapters 5-8).  Specifically, the site’s self-proclaimed focus on community-building was linked to theories of discourse; the tension between the program’s philosophy of embracing diversity and promoting social justice and its predominantly monolingual program delivery was presented as an opportunity to explore alternate transformative pedagogical models; and the sharing of linguistic resources, the Language Buddy system, the questioning of linguistic privilege, and the Multilingual Community Building intervention were presented as examples of diversity, access, power, and design respectively.  Finally, some of the identity positions available in the field were explored, with emphasis on a few unique to the site: program participant, program facilitator, program coordinator, and Language Buddy. In the remaining chapters, the methodology (chapter 4), analysis (chapters 5-8), and concluding discussion (chapter 9) bring an ethnographic eye to this site of potential transformation.   60 Chapter 4: Methodology  Investigating the multiliteracies practices and identity positionings of youth participants in an intensive linguistically diverse community of practice demands particular approaches to the kinds of data needed, how these data are collected, and how it is analyzed.  In recognition of the socially constructed nature of the concepts under investigation, this study uses ethnographic methods of data collection and discursive approaches to data analysis.  In order to capture the ways that transformative multiliteracies pedagogies affect the ways that meaning, power and identity are negotiated in discourse, this study uses a critical, multilingual and multimodal approach to ethnography.  Following Whitaker’s (1996) suggestion that ethnography be viewed as “a form of publically displayed learning” (p. 8) whose findings and representations are “pedagogical experiments” (p. 8), I approach the study of this diverse community of practice both as a learner of the program and research participants’ lived experience and as a teacher sharing these learnings with others in the research and pedagogical communities.  If ethnographic research is to be understood as a form of learning and teaching, and if I am to argue for the affordances of the transformative multiliteracies approach to learning and teaching, it stands to reason that the methodological approach should align with the transformative multiliteracies pedagogical approach.  My approach as a researcher-learner in the community strives for situated practice by understanding participant observation and research interviews as situated practices; overt instruction through the systematic analysis of this situated practice and the overt ethnographic approach; critical framing through critical ethnographic and critical discourse analytic approaches; and transformative practice through my intention to make active change in the community researched as well as the research community.  These themes are   61 highlighted throughout the following discussion of the methodological approach taken in this study. This chapter outlines the ethnographic methodology and methods for data collection and analysis.  The focus of this chapter is on how these approaches relate to each other, relate to the theoretical framework outlined in chapter 2, relate to the data collected, and relate to the exploration of these research questions:  1.  How can transformative multiliteracies pedagogies affect the meaning-making practices and identity positioning of linguistically diverse youth?   2. What multiliteracies practices and pedagogies can be creative of and created by a linguistically inclusive and critically multilingual community?    4.1 Ethnography In his recent description of super-diversity, Blommaert (2014) notes that “the uncertainty compels us towards an ethnographic stance, in which we go out to find out how sociolinguistic systems operate rather than to project a priori characteristics onto them” (p. 3).  Ethnography has its roots in anthropology where it originally signified the “up-close, intensive, long-term, holistic study of small-scale, non-Western societies” (Atkinson, Okada, & Talmy, 2012).  Its techniques—including participant observation, surveys, artifact collection, and the ethnographic interview—were developed in order to understand the society emically- from the participants’ own perspective.  Data collected through these techniques are triangulated—or juxtaposed and integrated—to strengthen the validity of the analysis (Atkinson et al., 2012, p. 86).  It is ethnography’s “regard for local rationalities” and method of “tapping into ecologies of meaning-making and the participants’ own sense-making” (Georgakopoulou, 2007, p. 20) that make it a suitable approach for studies of discourse, narrative, and identity—including this study of the   62 meaning-making and identity negotiation processes of linguistically diverse youth. The ethnographic approach taken here is particularly inspired by the approach taken by small stories analysts (Georgakopoulou, 2007), ethnography of communication researchers (Hymes, 1980), linguistic/multilingual ethnographers (Blackledge & Creese, 2010), and critical ethnographers (Anderson, 1989; Carspecken, 2001; Talmy, 2010a). In recognition of the highly contextualized nature of the central concepts of this study, a lived ethnography is appropriate as the situated practice of “being there” (Geertz, 1988) allows for some contextualized sense to be made of the participants’ actions and utterances. As noted by Stein (2008), “ethnographic data adds important ethical and interpretive dimensions to the micro-analysis of students’ multimodal texts, enabling the researcher to situate the communicative practice within larger frames of meaning which make sense to the participants themselves and throw different perspectives on the notion of the sign-makers ‘interests’ in the moment of interaction” (p. 11). In order to understand the meaning of any given utterance, artifact, or interview exchange, it is important to have immersed oneself in the community of practice that contextualizes that utterance to the extent that such an immersion is possible.  There is much debate about minimal times spent in the field to be considered an “ethnography” (see, for example Walker, 1980 and Jeffrey & Troman, 2004). Working within the time constraints of the program itself, this is as close to an ethnography as possible and is defined by Jeffrey & Troman (2004) as a compressed time mode: “a short period of intense ethnographic research in which researchers inhabit a research site almost permanently for anything from a few days to a month” (Jeffrey & Troman, 2004, p. 538). In this case, the compressed time mode of the research covers the entire duration of the community in two instantiations separated by a calendar year. Rather than being “an ethnography” in the purist sense, this study uses the “ethnographic perspective”   63 (Green & Bloom, 1997): a focused approach to studying particular aspects of everyday life and cultural practices of a social group.  Similarly, it draws on Geertz’s (1988) definition of ethnography as a viewpoint rather than a series of methods.  Atkins et al. (2012) have summarized Geertz’s ethnographic viewpoint, or thick description (Geertz, 1988), succinctly as a viewpoint that emphasizes “(1) the complexity and particularity of the social scene studied, (2) understanding that scene from an emic, or insider's, perspective, and (3) the researcher's awareness that s/he is a constitutive part of the scene” (Atkinson et al., 2012, p. 86).  Ethnographers strive to be reflective in representing and interpreting the social context of their research participants as they engage in social action alongside those they are researching.  As an active educator in the community, it is of especial importance that I make deliberate attempts to acknowledge my own positioning and performance throughout my time in the field at the seminar.  My own language choices, subject positioning, identities, power and privilege thus need to be accounted for and analyzed throughout the data analysis process. In addition to the situated practice of “being there” (Geertz, 1988), I seek overt instruction in the meaning-making processes of the community.  In order to achieve this, I draw on what has been called “overt ethnography” (Strangleman & Warren, 2008, p. 53) in which the participants are fully aware of my role as a researcher and the topic and purpose of the research.  All participants (and their parents) are aware that my intention is “to explore linguistic power and privilege in a multilingual educational setting” and to invite participants to “discuss what power and privilege look like in linguistically diverse communities” and “actively create community strategies to support linguistic inclusion of second language users in the community” (letter to program participants and parents).  Being overt about my intentions and aims as an educator and researcher was important to me both ethically and pedagogically.  Ethically, it   64 allowed the research participants and their parents to give more informed assent/consent.  Pedagogically, it allowed me to engage with the research participants in overt discussions of power, privilege, and multilingual inclusion.  This overt approach arguably created a context for the rich and remarkably self-aware narratives of participants such as Owen (section 8.4) and Andrew (section 7.4) to develop.  It also supported the critical and transformative aims of the study as outlined below.   4.1.1 Critical ethnography  Approaching this study as a transformative multiliteracies learner, I draw on critical ethnography to critically frame the situated practices of the community.   My approach is “critical” in that it addresses the ways in which social differences within a community are connected to social inequality (Carspecken, 2001).  This allows a focus on the ways in which language practices are socially and politically situated in a given community.  In particular, this study strives to achieve Talmy’s (2010a) description of a “critically-located ethnographic methodology”: A critically-located ethnographic methodology highlights the interplay between social structure, material relations, and agency; addresses the ways that social structure is (or is not) instantiated, accommodated, resisted, and/or transformed in the micropolitics of everyday life; contends with issues of ideology, hegemony, and culture; critically addresses its own historically-, materially-, and culturally-specific interpretations; works toward change; and does so with the collaboration of research participants. (Talmy, 2010a, p. 130) In this case, the social structure I am particularly focused on is linguistic privilege—examining   65 the instantiation, accommodation, resistance and transformation of situated, discursive, linguistic and cultural identities in the micropolitics of everyday interaction.  This study contends with issues of linguistic ideology, linguistic hegemony, and culture in the pedagogical approach, research design and analysis; and critically addresses my own historically-, materially- and culturally-specific interpretations through reflexivity (see below).  Finally, this methodology works toward change both at the micro- and macro- level. As Anderson (1989) points out, “a persistent criticism of educational critical theory is its tendency toward social critique without developing a theory of action that educational practitioners can draw upon to develop a "counter-hegemonic" practice in which dominant structures of classroom and organizational meaning are challenged” (p. 257).  Critical ethnographies that describe and critique unjust social realities and hegemonic educational practices are necessary in order to elucidate what needs to be changed; this study, however, aims to counter the criticism of lacking a theory of action by working toward change through taking transformative multiliteracies as the object of analysis.  In doing so, it builds off of the work of extensive critical ethnographies conducted by Talmy (2008), Blackledge and Creese (2010) and others who have already well-documented the hegemonic practices of uncritical TESL pedagogy.  At the micro-level, this project works toward change by making transformative pedagogies the core of the research process: this study does not aim to passively observe a community with pervasive inequality between speakers of dominant and non-dominant languages; rather, this study actively engages in transformative pedagogy with community members to address this inequality that has been well-documented elsewhere (see, for example Talmy, 2008).  At the macro-level, this project works toward broader social change by making the pedagogy used in this community overt and reproducible (see chapter 3 as well as chapters 5-8) and making recommendations for future research and pedagogical applications.   66 This emancipatory work is done with research participants, many of whom chose to use their real names in recognition of their contribution to the transformation of the norms of linguistic privilege.  I view the participants as being involved in a collaborative process over the course of the project designing actions to solve the problem of linguistic exclusion in a multilingual but English-dominant community. This focus on transformation may call for a distinction between critical ethnography, which highlights hegemonic practices with the view to future transformation, and transformative ethnography (Juris & Khasnabish, 2013), which works with research participants to transform these hegemonic practices.  Both are necessary components of research-based social change.  (This distinction draws upon the multiliteracies distinction between critical framing and transformative practice, both necessary components of pedagogy-based social change.)  The study is also “critical” in that it is approached with an intentional awareness of researcher-researched dynamics.  My identities as researcher, educator, “native English speaker,” white, formally-educated, and adult all may be generally afforded with high cultural capital in the context of the research site.  This status needs to be accounted for throughout the data collection and analysis process.  In addition, a critical ethnographic view uses an awareness of these power relations to mitigate the tendency of researchers to overuse their privileged access to subjective claims about what subjects felt, experienced, or intended (Silverman, 2010).  For this reason, a discourse analytic approach that transparently outlines the process of analysis and incorporates member-checking is taken to the analysis of the data (see below).     67 4.1.2 Multilingual, multimodal ethnography This study is a form of linguistic ethnography, drawing on linguistic-based discourse analysis to ground the analytic claims.  Linguistic ethnography is founded in two key tenets: • that the contexts for communication should be investigated rather than assumed. Meaning takes shape within specific social relations, interactional histories and institutional regimes, produced and construed by agents with expectations and repertoires that have to be grasped ethnographically; and  • that analysis of the internal organization of verbal (and other kinds of semiotic) data is essential to understanding its significance and position in the world. Meaning is far more than just the ‘expression of ideas’, and biography, identifications, stance and nuance are extensively signalled in the linguistic and textual fine-grain. (Rampton, 2007, p. 585) This linguistic ethnographic approach builds off of ideas from Goffman (1959), Hymes (1980), and Rampton (2007) who argue that a close observational analysis of situated interaction demonstrates aspects of identity, community, and competency that are produced, revealed, and negotiated through language.  Following Blackledge and Creese (2010), Rampton (1997), Blommaert, Collins, and Slembrouk (2005), Tusting and Maybin (2007), and Heller (2007), I expand on this linguistic ethnography to pay attention to multiple languages, and following Stein (2008), where possible I pay attention to other modalities of communication.   The very use of a particular language or semiotic mode can index a subject position (Blackledge & Creese, 2010), construct meaning, indicate a particular addressee, and shape the utterance through specific affordances (Stein, 2009), limitations and communicative norms. For this reason, attention is paid in the data collection to note when a shift is made between languages or modalities, even if only for a single   68 word.  I draw on Bakhtin’s (1986) term heteroglossia to refer to the way that different signs are combined as a resource in the act of meaning making.  In addition, in the words of Blackledge and Creese, multilingualism itself is “a social construct and always about power, distribution of linguistic resources and construction of boundaries” that are “reproduced, contested, challenged, fought over, altered and at times demolished in negotiations which become visible in the fine-grained detail of language interactions” (2010, p. 58).  While the majority of the data is spoken English discourse (for example, the interviews were predominantly English), this study pays attention to the choice of language and modality in interaction as a means of understanding identity and power.  In terms of multimodality, Dicks et. al (2011) note that “although a number of scholarly traditions have concerned themselves with the study of non-verbal and material forms of sensory data, it is only over the last ten years or so that multimodality has become an established way of examining and analysing communication and interaction in contemporary everyday life” (Dicks, Flewitt, Lancaster, & Pahl, 2011, p. 234).  While one could argue that all ethnography is necessarily multimodal in the multi-sensorial sense of “being there” (Geertz, 1988), what makes this new wave of multimodal ethnographies unique is the focus on the centrality of multimodality to the situated meaning-making process.  Kress (2011) argues that “ensembles of theories and methods [such as ethnography and multimodality] are contingent on and assembled for specific research tasks, and their contentious union may be fleeting or offer the potential to be more enduring” (as summarized by Dicks et al., 2011, p. 231).  The particular marriage between ethnography and multimodality here is a natural union born from the goal to explore the meaning-making processes of diverse youth in a transformative multiliteracies community of practice.  Because multiliteracies is at the pedagogical core of this meaning-making community,   69 it follows that a multimodal ethnographic approach to the observation and analysis of the constitutive meaning-making practices. While the linguistic still dominates the discourse and analysis, the gestural and (to a lesser degree) the visual were presented pedagogically as an interlingual communicative strategy; as a result, the observation and analysis pays attention to these modes through the use of video as described below.  4.1.3 Video in ethnography  The use of video allows the researcher to analyze the multimodal meaning-making practices of the participants as they draw on every semiotic resource that comes to hand. As noted by Stein (2008), the use of video data is the “most efficient and effective means of capturing the different semiotic layers (full body movement, action, gesture, body position, talk, silence, interactions, use of space) in a communication event” (p. 16).  This study draws on video ethnographic techniques that have been developed through my research on the meaning-making practices of youth dancers (Meredith, 2011).  By using video, the importance of gesture as a central meaning-making mode is recognized and promoted.  At the same time, the presence of a camera has ethical, theoretical, practical, and methodological implications that need to be considered.  Ethically, the use of video adds a layer of vulnerability and non-anonymity to the data collection process. For this reason, video was not used continuously throughout the program, and its use was always noted.  Special care was taken to frame shots in such a way that participants who did not consent to the use of their image were not in shots that would later be used for research and its dissemination.  In addition, because there is a tendency as Behar (2003) notes for researchers to “reveal little or nothing of ourselves; we make others vulnerable but we ourselves remain invulnerable” (p. 273), where applicable I have turned the camera on myself and included my self and my own interactions in the video image (at times with a tripod mounted   70 camera, at times with a volunteer holding the camera).  This allows me the opportunity to analyze my own interactions in addition to the interaction of the other participants.    There has been much written by Speer and Hutchby (2003) and others on the influence of video on research data as the presence of a camera can affect the conduct of the participants.  However, taking a social constructionist approach allows the researcher to frame this influence as part of the social-constructedness of the interview talk-in-practice rather than simply as a source of bias or invalidation of the “naturalness” of the data collected (Heath, Hindmarsh & Lush, 2010).  In this study, the role of the camera is understood to be fluid and to be part of the meaning-making process. Following Heath, Hindmarsh & Lush (2010), “rather than assuming an a priori, all-pervasive influence of the recording process on the participants” I find utility in “addressing the problem empirically,” making note of the participants’ orientations towards the camera and considering how they arise and why (p. 48).   There were many times that audio-only recording were used.  This was sometimes by participant request (some research participants asked their image to not be used, and in some cases that meant they were nervous about having their image recorded), sometimes by my choice to be less intrusive (especially in 2010 when my concerns over the influence of the presence of the camera out-weighed my desire to capture everything on video; through the analysis of the 2010 data, however, it became apparent that video held an irreplaceable value and that the presence of the camera could be addressed empirically as described above), and sometimes by the limitations of technology (full memory cards and dying batteries were a recurrent theme, especially in this fast-paced, intensive outdoor program).  In these cases, field notes noting gesture and the collection of visual artifacts were used to capture crude but useful shadows of the fleeting gestural and visual meaning-making practices.   71  4.2 Data Collection After obtaining consent and assent, data collection incorporated three primary methods: ethnographic observational and participatory field work, audio and video recordings, and semi-structured and open research interviews.  4.2.1 Consent Working with linguistically diverse youth poses logistical and ethical challenges that may dissuade researchers from focusing on populations that most need to be heard. In my case, I was fortunate that my previous connection with the program meant that negotiating access was relatively simple: although the initial expectation was that my graduate studies would mean that I could no longer be a part of the PSYL organization, I offered to continue my work supporting the communication needs of the community in exchange for institutional consent to research this contribution.  I negotiated the terms of access with the supportive director of the program.  Because many of the participants travel alone to the program, in order to gain required parental consent, I sent a letter introducing myself and the research via email in the weeks leading up to the program.  In order to help the participants understand what I was researching, I provided a session in which I highlighted the unique linguistic diversity of the community and introduced the basic ideas I had about multilingual communication.  We read through the assent together, and I emphasized that not participating in this research in no way would limit their experience of the program.  I used gestures, diagrams, and multilingual explanations where possible throughout to ensure understanding.  Further, I later followed-up with all of the participants who had signed for whom English was not a first language. I recognize part of the identity of this community is   72 that they are highly invested in academic and global identities: perhaps it is thus not surprising that the majority of the community enthusiastically offered their full assent and consent (including use of their true names) to this chance to participate in the academic world and have their identities as intercultural communicators acknowledged.  An ongoing process has been the ongoing check for assent.  Many continue to be interested in the themes addressed, and I have been in contact frequently as a method of member-checking as well as simply checking-in.     4.2.2 Ethnographic observational and participatory field work  My field work involved two five-week intensive participatory immersions in an educator role at the youth seminar for the entire duration of the four-week program and one-week planning session of the summers of 2010 and 2011 with member-checking and follow-up online and in the month long-summer session in 2012.  Observations in particular included morning Community Building sessions, the interaction of “Language Buddies” during language intensive sessions such as consensus building, Communication Crew sessions focused on strengthening communication within the community, facilitator meetings, coordinator meetings, and general community life.  Observation produced 10 sets of field notes (limited due to the intensity of the program) supplemented by extensive audio and video recordings as below.  In addition, documents were collected including participants’ own visual images of their perceived linguistic competencies, and short questionnaires on communication, participation, and subjective experiences of various sessions.  Finally, documents pertaining to descriptions of the program were collected on site and online.     73 4.2.3 Audio and video recordings Where possible, audio and video recordings were made of key community moments.  In 2010, video recording was limited to the Multilingual Community Building, the presentation of the Five Principles, a gesture-based communication session, and onstage performances.  Audio recordings were made for Communication Crew meetings, Language Buddy interaction in sessions, and final interviews. However, upon reviewing the data in the fall of 2010, it was clear that the video data provided multimodal richness that was lost in the audio recordings.  As a result, Communication Crew meetings, Language Buddy interactions in sessions, and final interviews were video recorded in 2011.  4.2.4 Semi-structured and open research interviews Focal participants were interviewed at the end of the program.  Although these interviews occur at the end of the program, they are not conceptualized as being reports of the experience of the program; rather, they are an integral part of the program.  In 2010, all interviews were done in Language Buddy pairs, allowing for an analysis of partner interaction. In 2011, language “teams” were used rather than language “buddies.”  Team interaction was recorded during several Communication Crew settings, so final interviews were done individually as a matter of scheduling limitation and facility.    4.3 Data Analysis In line with the critical ethnographic approach of this study, I take a critical perspective on discourse and use an array of resources for undertaking its analysis.  Because this study takes a social practice approach, it uses discourse analysis techniques in its examination of the culture   74 of the community.  Atkinson, Okada and Talmy (2012) have argued for the compatibility of ethnographic and discourse analytic approaches to data collection and analysis, specifically that “close description of the moment-by-moment constitution of social life in talk-in-interaction can both fundamentally enrich and be fundamentally enriched by broad descriptions of social behaviours, norms and values” (Atkinson et al., 2012, p. 89).  In her overview of discourse analysis in educational research, Warriner (2008) similarly argues for “the value of combining ethnographic methods data collection (e.g. long-term participant observation, document collection, and individual interviews) with a close analysis of discourse in order to provide a grounded and nuanced account of the specific, local, and complicated ways that institutional social processes (bureaucratic, social, economic and political) are related to individual identity construction or performance” (Warriner, 2008, p. 208).  In the case of this study, the compatibility of the two approaches has further theoretical motivation.  As outlined in section 2.4, this study is particularly interested in how meaning-making and identity positioning in discourse can potentially shift communicative norms and negotiations of power in a given community’s culture.    Because of this fundamental perspective on the connection between culture and discourse, the use of discourse analytic methods to ground ethnographic claims is not only justifiable, but is arguably essential.  As for the compatibility of critical ethnography and discourse analysis, Talmy has argued elsewhere that approaches such as conversation analysis can “powerfully substantiate and elaborate a critical analysis of discourse” as it works to “ground and expand claims that are made in a critical analysis of discourse, thereby addressing criticisms about analytic accountability and warrantability of assertions in critically-situated empirical research” (Talmy, 2009, p. 206).  In addition, discourse analytic approaches allow the critical analyst to examine “how power is   75 interactionally achieved rather than an a priori given or foregone conclusion” (Talmy, 2009, p. 206) .  I expand on this to argue that such an examination of how power is “interactionally achieved” also allows the researcher to point to potential for altering unfair imbalances of power through transformed interactions. Methods are drawn from Bakhtin (1981) for explicating the dialogic nature of all discursive data, Georgakopoulou and Bamberg (2008) (who themselves draw on tools from narrative analysis and conversation analysis) for a dialogic approach to narrative, and discourse analysts such as Gee (2011), Fairclough (2001), and Van Dijk (2001) for their attention to power in discourse. 4.3.1 Bakhtin and discourse analysis  As noted by Blackledge and Creese (2010, p. 125), Bakhtin’s framework is often used by social practice theorists as it connects the voices of social actors to their wider socio-political and historical context.  Following Bakhtin (1981), discourse is understood to be dialogic and each utterance is understood primarily as a link in the chain of communication. Each utterance links back to previous utterances through intertextuality and forward to proceeding utterances through addressivity (Bakhtin, 1986). Intertextuality is the process through which speakers construct their utterances in relation to the words of other speakers, while addressivity is the process through which speakers construct their utterances in order to achieve favourable responses and deter unfavourable responses from a particular audience. In addition, the Bakhtinian approach adopted here allows for a focus on heteroglossia (Bakhtin, 1986), the simultaneous use of different forms or signs in the multilingual, multimodal environment.     76 4.3.2 Narrative and discourse analysis Narratives are of particular interest to identity researchers as they offer the speaker additional tools for identity negotiation, performance, and construction.  In my analysis, I pay particular attention to the stories that are co-constructed by participants.  Following Georgakopolou, Bamberg and De Fina (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008; De Fina & Georgakopoulou, 2012; Georgakopoulou, 2005, 2007), I make use of an approach to narrative that is in line with Bakhtin’s dialogism: these narratives need not be grand life stories produced monologically; rather, they are small stories (Georgakopoulou, 2007) produced dialogically, some only a single sentence long (see, for example Yusuke’s small story in chapter 6).  Because this study is particularly interested in identity investment, construction, and negotiation, it draws especially on the elements of narrative analysis that allow for an examination of identity positions. The analysis is organized around Bamberg and Georgakopolou’s (2008, p. 385) three levels of positioning: (i) how characters are positioned within the story (the narrated self) (ii) how the speaker/narrator positions himself (and is positioned) within the interactive situation (the narrating self) (iii) how the speaker/narrator positions a sense of self/identity with regard to dominant discourses or master narratives (the grand narrative self)    Level one analyzes the story itself, drawing on narrative analysis techniques (including Labov and Waletzky’s (1967, 1997) story elements and Goffman’s (1959, 1974) story-telling roles) to explore who the characters are and how they are positioned in the story told.  Level two analyzes the story-telling interactions, drawing on conversation analysis techniques such as turn-taking   77 and self-repairs to explore how the teller is positioned in the telling.  Level three analyzes the grand narratives implicated in the telling, drawing on critical discourse anlaysis and Bakhtinian analysis techniques to explore how the identity of the teller is positioned in relation to the larger cultural context. Georgakopoulou (2007) argues that an examination of story-telling roles though “a micro-analytic emphasis on the details and sequential management of talk” allows the analyst to trace the “extra-situational, portable identities” that the speakers bring into and negotiate through the discourse (p. 115).  This narrative analytic approach has been adopted in order to analyze the identity work being done in and through the narratives that are co-constructed by participants throughout the program.  Following Georgakopoulou (2007), the “micro-analytic emphasis on the details and sequential management of talk” is accomplished by drawing on tools honed in the field of Conversation Analysis (Wooffitt, 2005) such as turn taking, subject positioning, false starts, repairs, and stake inoculations—rhetorical devices constructed to prevent the undermining of one’s utterances.  These features of talk in action are understood to be integral to the meaning-making and identity positioning processes.  For further theoretical considerations of the small stories approach, see section 2.4. Because this study explores transformative multiliteracies pedagogies (Cummins 2009), it is particularly interested in transformative acts of narration.  As Wortham (2000) summarizes, “many have proposed that autobiographical stories do more than describe a pre-existing self. Sometimes narrators can change who they are, in part, by telling stories about themselves” (p. 158).  Wortham explains what I argue is a transformational process of narration: “while telling their stories autobiographical narrators often enact a characteristic type of self, and through such performances they may in part become that type of self” (p. 158).  Wortham describes how “the self represented in an autobiographical narrative and the self enacted in the same narrative can   78 interrelate so as partly to construct the self” (p. 158). Story-tellers can “act out” the transformation that they describe in their life stories.  This is especially relevant to the longer stories told by Andrew and Owen in chapter 7 and 8 respectively.  Though these stories are longer in length and broader in focus than other narratives analyzed here, they are still analyzed as “small stories” as they are produced in interaction and fit the small stories definition above.  Following the small stories tradition (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008; De Fina & Georgakopoulou, 2012; Georgakopoulou, 2005, 2007), I draw on tools from other narrative analytic approaches (De Fina & Georgakopoulou, 2012; Goffman, 1959; Labov & Waletzky, 1997) where warranted by the data. 4.3.3 Power and discourse analysis In line with the critical theoretical framework and methodology, this study makes use of critical approaches to discourse analysis.  Following Van Dijk, I take critical discourse analysis to be not so much a different approach or specialization distinct from a narrative analysis or other approach, but rather a ““mode” or “perspective” of theorizing, analysis, and application throughout the whole field” (Van Dijk, 2001, p. 352).  For van Dijk, this perspective is one that “studies the way social power abuse, dominance, and inequality are enacted, reproduced, and resisted by text and talk in the social and political context” (Van Dijk, 2001, p. 352).  I would add to this list “transformed”: this study takes a more optimistic pedagogical, theoretical and analytic approach, studying not only the ways that the effects of inequality may be resisted, but also actively transformed by text and talk in the social and political context.  Thus while Van Dijk’s (2001) critical discourse analysis is framed as “dissident research” in which analysts “take explicit position, and thus want to understand, expose, and ultimately resist social inequality”, the analysis taken here takes up where such dissident research left off, moving to transform   79 social inequality and to understand, expose, and ultimately sustain social transformation. Such a transformative approach to critical discourse analysis is not always warranted, but is appropriate for this study of transformative multiliteracies.     While the focus on social transformation rather than social critique may be different, the analysis taken here follows the eight tenets of critical discourse analysis as outlined by Fairclough and Wodak (2011): 1. CDA addresses social problems 2. Power relations are discursive 3. Discourse constitutes society and culture 4. Discourse does ideological work 5. Discourse is historical 6. The link between text and society is mediated 7. Discourse analysis is interpretative and explanatory 8. Discourse is a form of social action The critical discourse analysis taken here addresses the social problem of linguistic inequality and exclusion (1); however, it also addresses social solutions to this problem. It understands that power relations are discursive (2), but especially seeks to understand and expose ways that empowerment relations—co-constructed rather than coercive power relations (Cummins, 2009)—are discursive. It understands that discourse constitutes society and culture (3) and thus further understands that shifts in discourse can constitute shifts in society and culture.  It understands that discourse does ideological work (4) and thus examines how transformative discourse can accomplish transformative ideological work. It understands that discourse is historical (5) and thus examines the intertextual connections of the participants’ discursive work   80 back to previous texts and forwards to imagined future transformations. It understands that the link between text and society is mediated (6) and thus examines the situations that mediate that link and either promote or hinder a transformed text from transforming society. It understands that discourse analysis is interpretative and explanatory (7) and thus moves beyond description of the participants’ discourse to examine how this discourse is relevant at a societal level. And finally, this study understands that discourse is a form of social action (8) and thus examines the participants’ transformative discourse as being forms of transformative social action.  Furthermore, though the focus on transformation may differ from the majority of work using critical discourse analysis, the techniques honed through social critique are drawn upon here for the study of social transformation. For example, following Critical Discourse analysts such as Gee (2011), the analysis pays close attention to the use of pronouns and I-statements as discursive moves linked to both identity and power, the use of pronouns and processes is analyzed for power relations, and the frequency and duration of utterances is analyzed as an indicator of an interlocutor’s discursive power, as is the ability to control the topic of talk. Drawing on Fairclough (2001), the experiential (of knowledge/beliefs), relational (of social relations) and expressive (of social identities) values of words and grammatical features are described, interpreted and explained where relevant.  However, while these techniques are drawn upon throughout the analysis, they do not constitute the analysis. Rather than organizing the analysis around values of words or grammatical features, the analysis is organized around the natural flow of the participants’ interactions and narratives. This serves to highlight the narrative and interactive elements of the discourse.  Thus, power is analyzed interactively, examining who speaks under what conditions, and narratively, examining who is the author, animator, figure, and principal (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008; De Fina & Georgakopoulou, 2012; Goffman,   81 1974) of the narratives that are told. This allows for a closer examination of where the agentive power lies in the story-telling and in the stories told.   4.3.4 Transcription As Bucholtz (2000) notes, transcription is never an objective, neutral process and instead involves both “interpretive decisions (What is transcribed?) and representational decisions (How is it transcribed?)” (Bucholtz, 2000, p. 1439).  Interpretive decisions over what is transcribed recognize that transcription is “not a straightforward task” (Bucholtz, 2000, p. 1441): low quality recording, quiet or quick speech, loud noises or interruptions in the setting may hinder the transcribers’ interpretation of what was and was not said. All of these challenges were faced in this study.  While the interview data were recorded in a more controlled setting in a small closed room chosen for its audio quality, the classroom discourse and other discussions took place in large rooms with 40-80 people in the room (such as the Five Principles consensus process in chapter 5 and the linguistic privilege discussion in chapter 7) or occurred outdoors (the Multilingual Community Building in chapter 8 is a notable example).  Efforts were made to include as much comprehensible detail as possible.  Where words were unintelligible, efforts were made to contact participants in the member-checking process and ask for clarifications.  In some cases, the speaker was immediately able to decipher their own words.  In most cases, however, where it was indecipherable to the analyst, it was equally indecipherable to the original speaker, so the words were left missing.  Where an educated guess has been made, the words are placed in (parenthesis) to mark the reflexive awareness of this uncertainty.  Where even a guess cannot be made, the words are omitted and these absences are noted with “(inaudible).”  Beyond environmental and technical challenges to the quality of recording, the linguistic diversity of the   82 participants in this study provides additional interpretive problems.  I understand these challenges to be limitations of my own receptive linguistic skills rather than limitations of the speakers’ productive communication.  For example, I am less familiar with a Ugandan English accent than I am with a Canadian English accent or a Japanese English accent and thus had to pay especial interpretive attention to the discourse of Andrew from Uganda.  Fortunately, through spending three weeks in communicative content with all of the participants, I benefitted from having my own receptive linguistic repertoire expanded to include the variety of accents represented here.  Where I was uncertain, I first made every attempt to become more familiar with the accent in question, researching its various inflections and cross-referencing with other sections of speech by the same participant. I then asked for a second opinion from other listeners before finally resorting to member-checking with the individual participant. Member-checking due to my own linguistic limitations was approached with especial sensitivity in this case because the emotional effect of being misunderstood was explicitly part of the narrative of one of the participants and was likely implicitly part of the lived experience of many.   Representational choices are also made:  “embedded within the details of transcription are indications of purpose, audience, and the position of the transcriber towards the text” (Bucholtz, 2000, p. 1440).  For example, phonetic detail may preserve linguistic diversity but may also obscure a text to make it inaccessible to its intended readers.  My intention is to preserve linguistic diversity while also making transcripts intelligible to a wide research and educational community as well as to the speakers themselves.  Linguistic diversity is preserved at a morphemic level, retaining the heteroglossia of contractions, ellipses, and diverse colloquialisms.  Where other languages are used, transcription is done to match the conventions of that language.  In the case of Japanese, I take advantage of the use of Romaji—the Japanese convention of   83 spelling Japanese words using the Roman alphabet—in order to make these transcripts accessible to both a Japanese and English-speaking audience.  The case of the Japanese word 勇気 in chapter 5 is indicative of how representational choices have been made reflexively to reflect the level of analysis.  The kanji characters are used when the word is first introduced because the discussion around the word includes the meaning of the individual kanji characters and the fact that it has a visual form is multimodally significant as the community rallies around this “exotic” feature of the word.  The Romaji transcription of the word “yuuki” is used when the word is uttered in discourse by a Japanese speaker or other speaker who recognizes the long “u” sound.  This phonological level is necessary as it indexes phonological familiarity with the word. However, when a non-Japanese speaker utters the word without the long “u,” this non-standard pronunciation is indicated as “yuki.”  Again, this is done only because this lack of familiarity with the language of the word’s origin in analytically relevant.  In addition, oral forms are necessary for the level of analysis used, so discourse markers, repetitions, laughter and repairs are included in the transcription.  Care was taken to include this level of transcription for all speakers—native English speakers and English language learners; Canadian English speakers and Ugandan English speakers; research participants and researcher.  Analysis occurred at the level of the utterance, so the change in speaking subjects (rather than breath groups of other units) was used as the unit for line changes. These decisions were conscious decisions to reflect the level of analysis as well as the breadth of audience.   4.4 Data Collection Activities Throughout the program, various transformative multiliteracies pedagogical practices were developed to invite the participants to transform their discursive practices, invest their   84 expanding identities, and create a communicatively inclusive community of practice.  Using Janks’ (2009) interdependence model of critical literacy, we can see that the overall curriculum strives to honour multilingual and multimodal diversity, provide access to meaningful utterances, critically frame communicative privilege in a theory of power, and offer opportunities for re-designing and transforming communicative norms.  While each pedagogical practice necessarily touches on multiple aspects of the interdependence model, linguaspheres and Communication Crew introductions highlight diversity, Language Buddies and Five Principles shift to access, linguistic privilege and Communication Crew feature power, and Muglish and Multilingual Community Building focus on design.      4.4.1 Diversity: Linguaspheres, Communication Crew introductions, and “yuuki” On the first day of the program, participants were invited to draw their perceived linguistic competencies in the form of a diagram I call a “linguasphere”: concentric circles where the largest circle represents their most “fluent” or “confident” language and the relationally smaller circles representing any other linguistic resources they felt they had.  The linguaspheres were collected as visual artefacts representing perceived linguistic competencies.   Figure 4.1 Lingasphere examples  Klever	   Andrew	   Owen	    85 These competencies were then presented to the group through an embodiment activity: with the entire community standing in a circle, I read out each language that was written on the card.  Those who felt they had some linguistic resources in that language were invited to run into the circle: to the centre if they felt they were “fluent”, just a few steps if they only knew a few words, or anywhere in between.  As they did so, they yelled “hello!” in the language.  This process was framed as a way to showcase the diversity of linguistic resources in the community as well as to highlight the fact that while English is the most shared common language, not everyone has equal access to its resources.  I asked for general strategies for working in a multilingual environment and received the following responses: • “Be patient” • “Use hand gestures” • “Use other languages.  Even if you only speak a little Spanish, use it.” • “Try your best” I then offered an additional strategy: pair up diverse speakers into “Language Buddy” pairs and form a Communication Crew to help make communication at PSYL better for everyone.  I asked that anyone interested in joining this “Communication Crew”—including anyone who wanted to improve their English—to draw a star on their linguasphere image.   In both 2010 and 2011, approximately two-thirds of the community volunteered.  The next day, the Communication Crew met for the first time.  They introduced themselves saying their name, the meaning of their name (in 2010 only), their languages (offering a gesture for each to show how “large” or “small” each language was “in their heads”), and answering the question “why do you want to be a part of the Communication Crew?”.  These introductions (as well as the initial session in which the idea of the crew was announced) were video-recorded as   86 multimodal identity texts investing their linguistic identities in their statements of self.  A critical multimodal analysis of these identity texts is offered in chapter five.  However, “diversity” is only really diversity if it is represented in the practices of a community.  The sprinkling of multilingual practices, especially the use of the Japanese word “yuuki” in 2010, are also analyzed in chapter 5.   4.4.2 Access: Language Buddies and Five Principles According to Janks (2009), “diversity without access to powerful forms of language ghettoizes students” (p. 26).  Celebrating the linguistic diversity in the community is not enough.  Those students who do not feel that they have access to the dominant language and modality of the program—spoken English—need to be provided with access to these dominant forms.  In this study, access is provided through the Language Buddy system.  These pairs were asked to work together during linguistically challenging sessions.  Audio, video, and/or observational data were collected during these sessions, such as the consensus-building process on day two in which the entire community is asked to engage in a lengthy process to determine the Five Principles that underlie the culture of their community.  This process often takes six hours or more of engaged dialogue, including highly detailed discussions on the distinctions between “respect” and “compassion” or the connotation of “pizzazz”.  In other words, it is a highly linguistically-demanding activity that can potentially be alienating for participants not fluent (or not perceived to be fluent) in the dominant mode of communication.  The Language Buddies then meet together with me for an hour every second day as a larger group—the  Communication Crew.  Here they are invited to share and reflect on their communication-related challenges, successes, and inspirations.  Most Communication Crew sessions begin with a Pair-Share style activity   87 where Language Buddies check in with each other, asking questions like “What goals do you have for communicating at PSYL?”, “what challenges are you having?”, “What can we do to improve communication at PSYL?”.  Their answers are then shared with the group.  These sessions and other interactions between Language Buddies during linguistically challenging sessions and exit interviews were video-recorded and analyzed in chapter six.     4.4.3 Power: Linguistic privilege and Communication Crew While the Language Buddy system provides space for diversity and access, according to Janks, diversity to access without a theory of power “leads to the celebration of diversity without any recognition that difference is structured in dominance and that not all discourses/genres/languages/literacies are equally powerful” and “a naturalization of powerful discourses without an understanding of how these powerful forms came to be powerful” (2009, p. 26). In order to provide a theory of dominance, one of the topics I highlight in the Communication Crew sessions is linguistic privilege.  At PSYL, the topic of Power and Privilege is woven throughout the program.  In particular, it is introduced through a simulation called the Earth Game wherein participants are separated into five groups separated physically around a field in taped-off areas that represent the boundaries of their countries. They are told to create a constitution and plan for their new countries and bring these to the International Office for approval.  During the course of the simulation, plans are either approved or disapproved, national disasters befall some nations, new rules are created, participants are removed from their countries and taken to “jail” if rules are disobeyed, and the “media” give reports on what is going on.  What is not known to the participants is that some countries are favoured while others are condemned from the start: the sizes of the countries are not equal; the resources available for   88 building are not equal; the rules are not applied equally; and while one country has all their plans approved, another will receive only a “no” with no explanation. When the simulation ends, they tour the different countries.  Countries that did well proudly display their roads and schools while countries that did not fare well complain bitterly of the never-ending landslides and disapproved plans.  Finally it is revealed that the set-up was unequal, and a reflection process of global power and privilege begins.  This discourse is then shifted to personal power and privilege through the introduction of “The Invisible Knapsack of White Privilege”, a list of white privileges compiled and published by Peggy McIntosh in 1988 (reprinted 1990).  These invisible privileges include the following: • 7. When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization," I am shown that people of my color made it what it is. • 9. If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege. • 21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group. • 46. I can chose blemish covers or bandages in "flesh" color and have them more or less match my skin. (McIntosh, 1990) Then a list of straight privileges, complied by students at Earlham College (“Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack II,” n.d.) is shared, including the following: • I can be pretty sure that my roommate, hallmates and classmates will be comfortable with my sexual orientation. • When I talk about my heterosexuality (such as in a joke or talking about my relationships), I will not be accused of pushing my sexual orientation onto others. • People don't ask why I made my choice of sexual orientation.   89 • I do not have to fear revealing my sexual orientation to friends or family.  It's assumed. Finally, participants reflect on their own personal privileges.  In 2010, “ally-building” was introduced as a way to acknowledge ones own privilege and use it for positive social change.  In 2011, the focus was on “rank theory”, acknowledging one’s rank and again using that acknowledgement to work for positive social change.  The Communication Crew discussion of Linguistic Privilege is embedded within this overall discussion of power and privilege.  In the session, participants discuss there responses to the questions “why are we speaking English at PSYL?”, “Who does this privilege?”, “What is good and what is bad about having English as an International Language?” and finally “What is in the Invisible Knapsack of English Privilege?”.  The discourse analysis of this video-recorded session, the list of linguistic privileges, and interview excerpts discussing linguistic privilege make up chapter seven.   Date Topic(s) Time Cameras Analysis 7/31/2010 Linguistic privilege Planning MLCB 26:44 audio 7, 8 8/04/2010 Difficult sessions 58:08 audio 6 8/06/2010 Strategies Reflection 42:03 audio 6, 8 7/27/2011 Introductions 21:52 2 5 7/29/2011 What was difficult? How can we help? 23:04 2 6 7/31/2011 Linguistic diversity 39:27 1 5, 6 8/02/2011 Linguistic privilege Planning MLCB 36:36 1 7, 8 8/05/2011 MLCB preparation 23:42 1 8 8/07/2011 MLCB reflections 32:02 2 8 8/09/2011 Final meeting Gratitude 35:40 2 9 8/11/2011 Language debate 09:02 1 9 Table 4.1 Communication Crew audio-video recordings    90 4.4.4 Design: Muglish and Multilingual Community Building  Design is the final piece of the critical literacy puzzle.  According to Janks (2009, p. 26), diversity, access, and power without an opportunity for design and transformative practice has various consequences: • “Diversity provides the means, the ideas, the alternative perspectives for reconstruction and transformation.  Without design, the potential that diversity offers is not realized.” • “[Access without design] maintains and reifies dominant forms without considering how they can be transformed.” • “The deconstruction of dominance, without reconstruction or design, removes human agency.” In order to transform communicative norms, the Communication Crew brainstorms communication-based interventions for the entire community.  For example, when a Language Buddy pair was finding it difficult to facilitate communication of announcements because the announcers often speak too fast, the Communication Crew came up with a gesture to remind speakers to slow down.  One of the Crew members then made an announcement at the next community meeting to demonstrate the gesture and explain how it would improve overall communication in the community.  Similarly, a request was made by a Japanese-dominant participant for more gestures to be used during communication.  From this suggestion, I worked with a few participants to introduce a gesture-based activity called “Muglish”—similar to charades but including the vocalization of the single word “mu” to draw on intonation and other paralinguistic techniques for communication.  Finally, after a discussion of linguistic power and privilege, a suggestion was made to have a non-English community building session so that the English speakers could experience a sense of non-dominance.  This event was organized by the   91 Crew and brought to the community.  Audio, visual and/or observational data were collected during all planning sessions and during all linguistic interventions, such as the Multilingual Community Building.  These recordings as well as excerpts from interviews discussing these interventions are analyzed in chapter 8.    4.4.5 Interviews  The final data collection activity was the exit interviews on the final two days of the program.  As mentioned above, in 2010 these interviews were audio-recorded and done in Language Buddy pairs while in 2011 these interviews were video-recorded and done individually due to scheduling constraints.  In line with the study’s overall theoretical framework, I adopt an interview as situated practice perspective (Talmy, 2010c).  These interviews are understood to be sites of ongoing identity negotiations wherein the participants do not report on past experiences and inner-held thoughts and feelings, but rather offer constructed accounts of these experiences, thoughts and feelings.  These interviews are theorized as processes through which participants perform, de-, re- and co-construct their “Language Buddy” identities. In addition to allowing space for participants to give accounts of their Language Buddy experience, these interactions are also integral parts of the Language Buddy experience. As a result, they can be analyzed using conversation analysis and narrative analysis to examine how they construct and express their “Language Buddy” identities as translingually competent individuals or otherwise.  Because I take an interview as social practice approach to these interviews in the sense that meaning is understood to be co-constructed with both the interviewer and interviewee taking an active role in its construction (Holstein & Gubrium, 1995; Talmy, 2010), it is important to acknowledge my own positioning and identity. Interviewees construct their utterances for a particular interlocutor,   92 generally the interviewer. Not only am I performing the identities of “researcher” and “interviewee”, I am also the leader of the intercultural communication program (or the “Language Buddy” program) at the seminar so often play the role of “linguistic expert” or “intercultural communication expert” as well as “teacher” and “language support worker.” In addition, I am a “native-English speaker” who also speaks some Japanese, French and Spanish so on rare occasions play the role of “translator.”  In line with the critical and transformative methodological approach of this study, the interviews are theorized as spaces for the research and program participants to make sense of their own experiences.  Narrative space is created in the interviews to allow participants to offer their accounts of observed phenomena.  In addition, the interview protocol includes questions about the future in order to allow participants to consider future transformative practices.  Further, examining the flow of power is also of especial interest in native- non-native speaker relationships, so a critical discourse analytic approach has been adopted to examine the role of power in these conversations.  These constructed accounts are narratives of identity negotiations, positionings, and performances.  In addition, these interviews are understood to be multimodal meaning-making practices in which gestures and other modalities in addition to words are drawn on to make meaning.  Where possible, video was used and/or observational notes were made on physical positioning, gestures, and images produced in the course of the interview.  After an initial thematic analysis seeking moments when identity becomes variously relevant, a discourse analytic approach is taken to the analysis of the data.  This discourse analytic approach is also taken to the rest of the data and is outlined below.  Where space allows, discursive data are presented here in excerpts long enough to allow for an examination of how the utterances are co-constructed.  This is especially true in the many cases where an analysis of this co-construction   93 provides insight into the concept being discussed. However, in some instances additional shorter theme-based excerpts are included when the discussion is focused on drawing similarities across multiple cases.  Their decontextualized presentation, however, should not be misunderstood as a decontextualized analysis.    Name Age Country of residence Languages Interview length Analysis Julie Lucy 17 18 Versailles, France Montreal, Canada French-English-(Spanish) English-French-(Swahili) 28:38 5.4 Mie Kaylee 16 16 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French) 19:29 5.4 Natsumi Tracy 17 17 Tokyo, Japan Toronto, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French) 17:33 5.4, 6.4 Yusuke Louis 16 17 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French 17:08 5.4, 6.4 Mika Brandy 17 16 Tokyo, Japan Revelstoke, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French)-(Spanish) 16:38 5.4 Tomo Graham 18 17 Tokyo, Japan Powell River, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French 26:50 5.4 Miki Arielle Justine 16 17 16 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Montreal, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French-Spanish French-English-Spanish 31:47 5.4 Julia Brian 16 17 Germany Boston, Canada German-English English-French-(Spanish)-(German) 14:00 5.4 Table 4.2 Language Buddy interviews 2010     94  Name Age Country of residence Languages Interview length Analysis Owen (not in CC) 18 Toronto, Canada English-(French) 16:29 8.4 Andrew (CC facilitator) 18 New Mexico, USA Uganda Lugwere-English-Lusota-Lugandan- (German)-(Spanish) 19:29 7.4 Jennifer (not in CC) 18 Bella Bella, Canada English-(Heiltsuk) 15:33 7.2 Yuriko Laura Vero Claire S. CC “Team” 17 17 17 16  Tokyo, Japan Vernon, Canada Vancouver, Canada Victoria, Canada Japanese-English English-(French)-(Spanish) English-French English-French-Spanish 24:29 14:22 19:32 (5-6) (5-6) (5-6) Fred Jesse Mitchell Navi CC “Team” 16 16 17 17 Tokyo, Japan Canada Canada - Japanese-(English) English-(French) English-Mandarin-(Cantonese) English-French-(Spanish)-(Tongan) 16:03 9:54 - - (5, 7.3) (5, 7.3) Mari Nikki Claire CC “Team” 16 16 17 Tokyo, Japan Canada Canada  Japanese-(English) English-(French)-(Spanish) English-French-(Spanish)  18:50 18:46 -  (5, 7.3) (5, 7.3) Dani Lawrence Priscilla CC “Team” 15 15 16  Spain China Dubai/Canada Spanish-(English) Chinese-English English-Chinese-French-Spanish-(Sign)-(Arabic)-(Swahili) 15:20 19:14 18:35  (5, 7.3) (5, 7.3) (5, 7.3) Klever CC facilitator 18 Bolivia Spanish-English-(Portuguese) 10:23 (7, 7.3) Sven Matteo - CC “Team” 17 16 Germany Canada German-(English)-(French) English-(French)-(Ukranian)-(Italian)-(Morse)-(Asui) 12:05 9:40 - (5, 7.3) (5, 7.3) Panni CC facilitator  Sukhothai, Thailand  20:38 - (-) -- Annabelle “Jessica” -- CC “Team”   17 17  -- -- Canada Vancouver, Canada --   French-English-(Spanish) English-French-(Canto)-(Mando) - 8:44 - - -   (5, 7.2) (5, 7.3) Table 4.3 Communication Crew interviews 2011  95  4.4.6 Summary of data collection activities Table 4.4 Summary of data collection activities  4.5 Conclusion This chapter has outlined the critical, open, multimodal and multilinguistic approaches to ethnography and the critical, Bakhtinian, narrative approaches to discourse analysis utilized in this study. Their coherence with each other and with the goals of the research study as well as theoretical and ethical concerns have been discussed.  These transformative multiliteracies inspired methodologies and analytic methods are explored in more detail through their use in the next four data analysis chapters as they are used to examine the identities, power relations, and narrative discourse of linguistically diverse youth engaging in situated practice, overt instruction, critical framing, and transformative practice of communicative norms.   Data Collection Activity 2010 2011 Critical Literacy Focus Chapter References Linguaspheres (Drawings) 32 artifacts 64 artifacts Diversity 5 (and all) Communication Crew Sessions 3 sessions 7 sessions 3:42:53 Access (5-7) Linguistic Privilege Statements 30 statements from 16 participants 25 statements  from 20 participants Power 7 Whole Community Communication Sessions Multilingual Community Building (MLCB) Facilitators intro- 7:45 Muglish- 14:25 MLCB- 46:10 Design 5, 8 Other Community Events 5 Principles Presentation Performances   Performances All 4 - - Paired Language Buddy Interviews 8 audio -- All 5, 6 (and all) Individual Language Buddy Interviews -- 20 audio-video 9:40-24:30 Average=17 min All 7, 8 (and all)   96 Chapter 5: Diversity  5.1 Drawing on Diverse Multiliteracies and Performing “Cosmopolitan Cool” The culture of a community is its discursive norms.  These norms continually shape and are shaped by the ongoing discourse of the community as its members interact in social situations.  A study of a short-term, intensive educational community like PSYL allows the opportunity to gather information about how the norms of a community are negotiated in and through discourse.  An analysis of this discourse can shed light onto how diversity, identity, and power play into the cultural negotiation process.   Differences in ways of reading and writing the world provide productive resources for changing consciousness (Janks, 2009), adopting new social identities (Gee, 1990), and finding innovative solutions (Kress, 1995).  However, because differences in a community are organized in hierachies based among other attributes on relations of power (Janks, 2009), often it may be the speakers of the dominant language in the dominant modality who have their voices heard and shape the discursive norms.  Diversity can be silenced as the strongest and loudest have their say.  This chapter examines the possibilities for identities and practices in discourse in the context of transformative multiliteracies pedagogy that seeks to honour diversity.  Using Bakhtinian (1981, 1986) concepts of intertextuality, heteroglossia, and authoritative utterances as well as tools drawn from a small stories approach to narrative (Bamberg & Georgakopoulou, 2008; Georgakopoulou, 2005, 2007), this chapter seeks to understand how diverse utterances can be valued highly in symbolic capital (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991) and how through identity investment (Norton, 2000, 2013) speakers co-create and transfer this symbolic capital to their speaking selves.  In doing so, we can see how in a context of super-diversity (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2007), multilingualism—  97 “the appropriation and incorporation for meaning-making of any and all linguistic resources which come to hand” (Blackledge & Creese, 2010, p. 17)—becomes metrolingualism—the creativity and fluidity of language in flux across cultural, historical, and political borders (Otsuji & Pennycook, 2010) and potentially plurilingualism—the normalization of translingual practices (Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013).  In order to draw on their multilingual resources, community members need to view their multilingual talents as a valued component of their identities (Cummins et al., 2005), regardless of first language. In doing so, the youth perform what could be called a “cosmopolitan cool” identity.  This chapter focuses on an analysis of the discourse around the Five Principles consensus process as the community constructs and narrates their communal story and group identity.    5.2 Five Principles Consensus Building Process  Within the first few days of the program, the participants actively construct the story and the discourse of the community as they participate in a consensus-building process to identify the five core values of their community.  Typically these may include such ideals as “respect,” “communication,” “change,” “inspiration,” or “spirit.”  The principles chosen are imbued with high symbolic capital and become what Bakhtin (1986) calls “authoritative utterances” within the field: those “to which one refers, which are cited, imitated, and followed” (p. 88). The participants and facilitators refer to these core principles frequently to solve conflicts, build rapport, and perform group identity. The process of consensus-building is a new discursive practice for many, and is also one of the most linguistically demanding discursive events in the program.  As Fairclough (1989; 2001) notes, discourse is central to the process of consensus.  Achieving consensus on values is an act of power.  For Bourdieu (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991),   98 it is an act of coercive power through which one group dominates another by imposing their values.  This, however, does not match the definition of “consensus” that seeks to have every voice heard.  Through collaborative relations of power (Cummins, 2009), achieving a consensus on core values is a discursive practice of empowerment. The Five Principles consensus-building process is done three times as different groups join the community: first with the adult coordinators during planning week, then with facilitators during facilitator training, and finally with the participants during the main program.  The analysis here focuses on the latter two.  Each facilitator or participant is asked to come up with a list of Five Principles they hope their community will live by.  They then pair up to share their ideas with a partner and reach a consensus on Five Principles between the two.  For the small group of facilitators (approximately 16 facilitators), each pair then shares these with the larger group and the larger group uses consensus to finalize five.  For the larger group of program participants (up to 90 participants), once this two-person consensus is achieved, the pair joins another pair and again enters discussions to reach a consensus on Five Principles between the four discussants.  This process continues in increasingly large groups until the groups reach sixteen people or the two-hour time slot is over.  At this point, the principles are shared with the entire group and each group of sixteen chooses a representative to enter a “Spokes Council” to continue the process.  Typically, discussion takes six to eight hours and involves lengthy meta-linguistic discussions on the precise definitions of various words, debating what distinguishes “respect” from “care” or “integrity” from “honesty.”  As a result, it can appear to be one of the most alienating, tiring and frustrating sessions for non-native speakers of English.  Ethnographic participant observation was used to observe this discursive community-building event and record the focal participants’ involvement as they invest in a new practice and position themselves and their diverse linguistic   99 resources in the discursive construction of the values of the community.  In the case of the program participants, one of the questions in the interviews was “how was the Five Principles process for you?” An analysis of the presentation of the program facilitators’ Five Principles and the program participants’ interviews describing their Five Principles is used to analyze how diversity, identity, and power are used in this process of cultural negotiation.  Data in this chapter are from 2010.  5.3 Pura Vida, Agape, Fluss, Kai (开)  and Real: Program Facilitator Five Principles  The program facilitators—past program participants or students at United World Colleges around the world—are a group high in symbolic, cultural and in some cases economic capital (Bourdieu & Thompson, 1991).  Most have multiple linguistic resources, usually including a “home” language, the language of the country in which they are studying, an additional language they are learning at school, and English as the language of the International Baccalaureate (IB) program.  While this does not mean that they all consider themselves to be multilingually competent or fluent in English, they do have access to a diversity of linguistic resources and have had experience living and learning in a linguistically diverse environment.  Because linguistic and cultural capital intersect with economic capital in various ways, it is worth noting that this group is also complex in terms of economic capital: many attend UWC schools on full-scholarships (for example, at Pearson 100% of the students were on full-scholarship at the time of the research) and some were deliberately selected for their lack of economic capital.  That being said, being a facilitator is a volunteer position, so arguably only those with sufficient means to not have to work during their summer holiday would be able to take the privileged position.     100 With the intention to encourage the program facilitators to draw on their full repertoire of multimodal and multilingual repertoire, they were asked to use images and gestures as much as possible to accompany the principles they suggested throughout the consensus process.  Interestingly, the resulting Five Principles came from five different languages.  The first principle chosen was “pura vida”, a word first suggested by Joni, who lists his preferred languages as German (he grew up in Germany), English (he studies at an English-medium IB school), and Spanish (he is now studying at the “bilingual” Spanish-English UWC in Costa Rica).  Other suggested words that became associated with “pura vida” throughout the consensus process were energy, sparkle and passion.  Also in the first session, Hilary, an English-speaking student originally from America but studying at a UWC in Bosnia, suggested an ancient Greek word she had learned in classical studies of the IB program: “agape,” which she defined as “brotherly love.”  Hilary offered this term as an authoritative utterance from the academic field.  Field notes recorded what seemed to be the “immediate buzz of excitement” from her peers when she suggested this word, tempered only when another facilitator used Wikipedia to discover that there is a slight religious connotation to the word in relation to Jesus’ brotherly love for his disciples (field notes, July 17, 2010).  However, in the end the word was selected as Alex said, “it doesn’t matter what the dictionary definition is as long as we all agree on the meaning. It’s our principle” (field notes, July 17, 2010).  Later in the afternoon, the word “flow” was suggested as a principle to capture the idea of inclusiveness, nurturing, togetherness and unity.  Another facilitator suggested “river” instead.  There was some debate over the two words, and Joni, a German-speaking facilitator studying in Costa Rica expressed his confusion saying “I think there’s only one word for that in German.”  Alex, an English-German speaker from New Zealand agreed and said “oh yes, fluss!”  Other facilitators expressed excitement at having found   101 a non-English word that combined their ideas.  There was some debate over how to pronounce it and whether they actually liked the sound of it, but in the end it was chosen.  At this point, someone mentioned it would be funny if none of the principles were in English.  Alex expressed that she thought at least one should be in English and suggested “real” which was chosen.  Then the conversation turned to the remaining words, which included open-mindedness and respect.  Alex suggested “kia kaha”, a New Zealand term.  There was excitement about the term, but not about the meaning, which didn’t seem to capture the essence of the remaining words.  In a moment of silence, Hilary asked if anyone knew a word in another language.  Juan from China responded, “actually, there is a word in Chinese.  Kai.”  After explaining the Buddhist conception of “kai,” there was much excitement, which only increased when Juan drew the Chinese character for the word, 开.     Figure 5.1 Facilitator Five Principles 2010    102 Throughout this discussion, an extremely high level of symbolic and multilingual competence is demonstrated as this unusually cosmopolitan group of youth encouraged each other to value and draw upon all linguistic and semiotic resources at hand in order to solve a common problem of discovering five core principles.  There was a lot of energy around the idea of using multilingual words as they seemed to have high symbolic capital and displayed the cosmopolitan cultural capital of the group.  By drawing on multilingual resources, all members of the community are participating in metrolingualism (Otsuji & Pennycook, 2010) or plurilingualism (Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) and developing a metrolingual identity both as a group and as individuals.  Because this metrolingualism is limited to a few set words and phrases and is thus marked more by the depth of significance of the multilingualism than by the breadth of multilingualism, perhaps a better description of this identity is cosmopolitan cool.  Luke, Luke and Graham (2007) offer a definition of cosmopolitan that aligns well with the concept of super-diversity: Cosmopolitanism is often used to describe global civil society, a global citizenry and community, the social subject of globalization with multiple ethnonationalist affiliations, mobile on the flows of global labor opportunities, “outward” looking, and at ease in a lifeworld of difference—multilingual, multiethnic, multiracial, multiclassed, multicultural (Calhoun, 2003). The combined concept of kosmos (world/known universe) and polis (city/community) is an historical ideal much like democracy—both are ideal aspirations of individuals living as “citizens” or members of both “local” community (village, town, city, canton, nation, state, federation of states, etc.) and the larger world consisting of multiple and different locales and locals (Archibughi, 2003).  (p. 6)   103 In contrast to Luke, Luke and Graham’s depiction of cosmopolitanism as an ideal, Kubota (in press) warns against adopting an elitist cosmopolitanism that reflects neo-liberal notions of multiculturalism.  I use the word “cosmopolitan” bearing both the ideal and the potentially elitist references in mind. Questions about power and elitism are further explored in chapters 7 and 8.  For now, I simply note that whereas the English language learners could often be side-lined in linguistically complex discussions, in this case they were foregrounded and respected for the diverse cosmopolitan perspective they were able to offer to the group.  This was especially possible in this group because they had the English linguistic resources to fully participate in the English-based discussion.  In the presentation of the Five Principles, power and identity inflect the semiotic positioning of these multilingual resources.  The facilitators worked in pairs or groups of three to present the principles to the adult coordinators.  Drums would beat, then roll, then hit and a blanket would fall revealing the next pair of facilitators who in many cases would use their bodies to express the word as they said it.  Then they stepped forward and one would begin to speak.  In most cases, it seems that the speakers had not prepared in advance who would speak first, and the speakers silently or otherwise negotiate this role before they begin.  An analysis allows us to examine how these speaker roles are negotiated, shaping discourse, power and identity.  In general, there seems to be a strong deference to the strongest speaker of the language from which the word was taken as we see with the following opening exchanges:  Excerpt 5.1: “Um ‘kai’ um is a Chinese word” Drum beat.  Drum roll. Drum beat. 1 Juan: [Arms open.  “Kai.”       2 Anne:  [Arms open. Holding sticky note with “kai” written on it.  Um- °Gestures to Juan.° 3   104 Juan: Gestures back to Anne. 4 Anne:  Um “kai” um is a Chinese word and we chose it because we think it is very important that 5 we be open-minded.  And that we’re um open to everything that we’re open to embrace 6 everything um in terms of trust and in terms of um- empathy and in terms of a lot- of a lot 7 of different ways but we didn’t- we were unable to find a word in English to describe this 8 but then Juan came up with the word “kai”. 9 Juan: Takes paper from Anne.  And apart from open-mindedness, it actually represents a broad 10 level of mind of the Buddha to be open to be in the world to be receiving everything to be 11 knowing everything and it’s really high state. 12 Kim:  Mm. Cool.   13 Applause. 14  In the presentation of the principle “kai”, Anne seems to remain silent as long as possible (l. 2-4), uttering only “um” and perhaps attempting through gesture to pass her turn to Juan until her partner insists through a stronger gesture that she speak first.  Her speech is then uncharacteristically scattered with more “ums” as she seems to search for the words to explain a word that is not yet fully in her linguistic grasp.  Juan, on the other hand, speaks confidently and frames the word with deep cultural references to Buddha. His confidence in building the narrative of the facilitator community by communicating the meaning of this word from his linguistic repertoire is not hampered by subtle variations in his English speech (such as not using an article in “it’s really high state” (l. 11)): here his plurilingual identity is relevant as he speaks not only as an English-speaker presenting in English, but also as a Chinese-speaker presenting a Chinese word.  This moment also reflects back to the moment he first suggested the term and the   105 enthusiastic response he received as he drew the Chinese character.  He is able to draw on his multilingual identity in order to shape his situated discursive identity as a speaker: acting as a bridge to bring a Chinese word into what would otherwise potentially be an English-monolingual community allows Juan to perform the cosmopolitan cool identity. This in turn shapes the discourse of the community as “kai” becomes an authoritative utterance (Bakhtin, 1981), raising the cosmopolitan cool quotient of the whole community and used occasionally throughout the program.  Excerpt 5.2: “You explain” Drum beat.  Drum roll.  Drum hit. 1 Hormuz: Pura vida.     2 Joni:   Pura vida.  3 Others: O:h.  4 Hormuz: (1.0) 5 Joni:   Um- (2.) 6 Hormuz: You explain    7 Others: Laughter. 8 Joni: “Pura vida” is the Costa Rican culture life mentality. Uh it’s what you hear 9 everywhere.  You ask people how they are they say “pura vida” no matter how 10 bad they feel.  And it’s just like this positive attitude which kind of reconnects to 11 the first word which is “fluss”. Um it’s like this- like the flow of the thing, the 12 positive attitude, the just like love to the life.  I think Ticos- Costa Ricans- are 13 the happiest people on the planet. Of all nations. And this “pura vida” is just like 14 expansive hand gesture just like you see it everywhere- even in the kitchen 15   106 actually (points to the kitchen) there’s a “pura vida” café from Costa Rica.  So 16 it’s like this really really positive attitude to life. 17 Kim:   Mm-hm.  A:weso::me!   18 Others: Applause. 19 Joni: To add just one thing.  We were talking about- lots about the adventure and that 20 we wanted to include the fun and it’s all just like- included in this “pura vida”- 21 pure life. 22  For “pura vida”, we can see Hormuz’s pause (l. 19) and direct request “you explain” (l. 21) as deference made to the speaker with the most situated cultural and linguistic knowledge. If competence were measured by “standard” English fluency alone, Hormuz would have the higher competency and capital of this speaking pair; however, Joni gains the right to speak, perhaps at least in part through his acknowledged competency and familiarity with Costa Rican culture and the Spanish language. He builds the situated symbolic capital of the word as an authoritative utterance (Bakthin, 1986) by indicating its prevalence in Costa Rica and even in the site’s kitchen (l. 23).  By creating capital for the word, he also creates capital for himself as speaker of the word and for the entire community as users of the word.  He invests his multilingual/plurilingual/meterolingual identity into the word on behalf of the community: Joni is able to display his full plurilingual competency in this utterance as he weaves linguistic resources from English, Spanish (“pura vida”, “Ticos”), and his native German (“fluss”) nearly seamlessly.  This is an example of what Bakhtin (1986) calls heteroglossia, the multiplicity of coexisting but socially differentiated forms of language.  The social differentiation means that there is social significance when speakers produce dialectally or generically heterogeneous   107 utterances.  The use of Spanish and German here has social significance as it demonstrates the cosmopolitan capital of the speaker on behalf of the group.  My uptake response, “Mm-hm.  A:weso::me!” (l. 31) and the adult audience’s enthusiastic applause not only reflect our authority (the power of our roles as coordinators to approve of their utterances) and convention (applause following a speech event), but also further co-construct the capital around this utterance.  Like an identity text reception, this applause reflects the speakers’ multilingual creative identities—their cosmopolitan coolness—back in a positive light, further empowering the members of the community of practice.  Indeed, pura vida was the most often used principle in daily discourse of the facilitator community with its status as an authoritative utterance reinforced through each intertextual reference (Bakhtin, 1986), and is still used four years later as they remain globally connected on a Facebook group.    Through the process of the selection and presentation of the five multilingual principles, diversity is celebrated as a resource to help solve the community problem of reaching a consensus on concepts to found the story of their community.  Instead of limiting their options to the English language, this group was able to pool suggestions from six languages and multiple modalities (note the images, diagrams, and Chinese script all featured in Figure 4.1).  It is noted that the discussion remained largely in English and the three most fluent English speakers spoke slightly more than their less-English-fluent speaking partners, reaffirming that issues of power and access are always interconnected with diversity and design.  However, despite the conversation being in English, dominant speakers of other languages were able to find their voice in the conversation by suggesting principles from their non-English linguistic resources.  The positive evaluation of these diverse resources in their usefulness and prestige earned their speakers the right to speak and the power to impose reception.  In addition, due to the high level   108 of English proficiency among the group, the use of images and gestures seemed to provide enough access for all of the facilitators to draw on their semiotic resources and contribute to the discussion.    5.4 Diversity Narratives: 勇気(Yuuki): Program Participant Multilingual Principle  When the program participants arrived the following week, issues of access and power were far more prevalent as there was a greater discrepancy of English proficiency levels, less multilingual and intercultural capital in terms of international education experience, and far more North American native English speakers.  Some indication of the economic diversity of the community can be understood in that one quarter of the program participants in 2010 were attending on a needs-based full-scholarship while the remaining three-quarters paid a substantial fee to attend.  As explained in section 4.4.2, after a session on communicating across difference, the “Communication Crew” was formed of participants who were interested in taking on the task of ensuring inclusive communication in the program.  All participants drew their perceived language competencies as concentric circles: the largest outer circle represents their “strongest language.” These languages I report below as “fluent” or “dominant.”  In 2010 the Communication Crew included twelve non-fluent English speakers and twenty fluent English speakers. Non-fluent English speakers or English language learners were paired with fluent English speakers as “Language Buddies” for the program.  Participants were paired up based on availability and according to whether they had consent and assent to participate in the study (participants with consent were paired together and participants without consent were paired together).  At the end of the program, program/research participants were interviewed in   109 Language Buddy pairs (or teams, as one was a group of three). These pairs of participants were as follows: Name Age Country of residence Languages Julie Lucy 17 18 Versailles, France Montreal, Canada French-English-(Spanish) English-French-(Swahili) Miei Kaylee 16 16 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French) Natsumi Tracy 17 17 Tokyo, Japan Toronto, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French) Yusuke Louis 16 17 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French Mika Brandy 17 16 Tokyo, Japan Revelstoke, Canada Japanese-(English) English-(French)-(Spanish) Tomo Graham 18 17 Tokyo, Japan Powell River, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French Miki Arielle Justine 16 17 16 Tokyo, Japan Vancouver, Canada Montreal, Canada Japanese-(English) English-French-Spanish French-English-Spanish Julia Brian 16 17 Germany Boston, Canada German-English English-French-(Spanish)-(German) Table 5.1 Language Buddies 2010  The first time they worked together was as partners for the consensus process of the participant Five Principles.  Graham, a fluent English speaker and French and Spanish language learner from Powell River, was paired with Tomo, a fluent Japanese speaker and English language learner from Japan. Kaylee, a fluent English speaker and French language learner from Vancouver was paired with Miei, a fluent Japanese speaker and English language learner from Japan who drew tear drops beside the small circle representing her English ability.  These pairs took significantly longer than other pairs to achieve partner consensus: the rest of the participants had moved on to groups of four and many to groups of eight while these pairs continued at their own pace.  They then joined together and remained a group of four while others made groups of sixteen and even thirty-two.  At the end of the two-hour session, the group presented their Five   110 Principles.  They included the Japanese word 勇気 -“yuuki,” which can be translated as “courage.”  The pronunciation of this word was generally anglicized to “yuki.”  Graham presented this principle to the community with much fanfare, saving it for last and saying, “and finally, one very special principle: yuki.” It received the most positive response in terms of a wide round of applause from the community. Graham suggested that Tomo and Miei be on the council that made the final decision: they did so and were mostly quiet throughout the process that was dominated by English-fluent speakers, including Lucy, another member of the Communication Crew.  However, the Japanese word was eventually chosen as one of the Five Principles of the participant community.  The narrative accounts of how “yuuki” came to be one of the community’s founding principles demonstrates issues of access, power, and identity in the discursive construction of a community.  In order to balance a breadth of accounts with a depth of analysis, each section contains a broad sampling of shorter excerpts from various voices analyzed briefly as well as one or two longer interview excerpts analyzed more in depth using Bamberg and Georgakopolou’s (2008) three levels of positioning.   5.4.1 Consensus-building in diversity  An analysis of the narrative discourse around “yuuki” in the interviews provides insight into how diverse members of the community orient themselves towards this particular linguistic resource and its place in the semiotic landscape of the community.  Although this chapter ultimately highlights the valuation of linguistic diversity in the group identity of the community of young leaders, it is important to note that diversity is not without issues of access, power, and design and this story is not without linguistic struggle, miscomprehensions, divergent tellings,   111 and imbalances of power.  Linguistic diversity is the cause of both struggle outlined here and in section 5.4.2 and triumph outlined in section 5.4.3.   As expected, the Five Principles session was described by many of the ELL Language Buddies as being one of the most difficult sessions, partly because it was so early in the program, and partly because the challenge of discussing principles or values in any language can be daunting:  Excerpt 5.5.3 “Difficult but it was very good” Miei (Japanese-English)Kim:  Five Principles.  How was that for you? How was the Five Principles experience? 1 Miei:  Mm very difficult.  2 Kim:  Yes.  3 Miei:  If I discuss the topic in Japan,  4 Kim:  Yes. 5 Miei:  I can’t speak.  Eh?! In Canada?! In English?!   6 Kim:  Right- even worse. 7 Miei:  Yes. 8  Julia (German-English) Julia:  It was one of the difficult session.  10 Kim:  Yep. 11 Julia:  Jet lag, tired, new and then this big difficult session. 12 Kim:  Yeah. 13 Julia:  At first I was sitting there and saying “what they want from me?” 14   112 Kim:  Yeah. 15 Julia:   I didn’t understand nothing but when Brian sit next to me he- he see that and he talk 16 more and I hear more and um I say something to him and then he say it to the 17 others.  18 Kim:  Mm hm. 19 Julia:  So: um I was a little bit shy but he- when I said something to him he said it to the 20 others. 21 Kim:  Okay.22  Mika (Japanese-English)Mika:  This class is very different from Japan.  23 Kim:  Nice. 24 Mika:  So at first I can’t understand what everyone doing.   25 Kim:  Yes. 26 Mika:  But she wrote a note and teach me.  So- But I can’t join discussion.  27 Kim:  Right.  28 Mika:  But I can understand.29  Tomo (Japanese-English) Tomo:  A:h. The five principle ah (inaudible). 31 Graham:  You were with um- Kaylee. 32 Tomo:  Yeah, I remember. It was very difficult. A:h then I couldn’t- I couldn’t understand 33 what Graham and Kaylee said. 34   113 Kim:  Mm hm mm hm. 35 Tomo:  And uh so we- we need ta- we need take many time.  36 Kim:  Right. 37 Tomo:  Uh so mm I couldn’t understand enough to answer so: it was very difficult but it 38 was very good experience.  39 Kim:  It was good?  What made it good. 40 Tomo:  U:h- U:h because u:h um: wait °principles. What made good.° Because I and Miei 41 can- I and Miei could answer “yuuki.”  42 Kim:  Mm. Yes. 43 Tomo:  And uh mm I can feel Graham and Kaylee’s kindness. 44 Kim:  Mm. Nice. 45 Tomo:  Heh heh heh. 46 Graham:  Thank you. 47  In each of these excerpts, “difficult” or “very different” was used as a descriptor for the Five Principles session. Miei states that even if she discussed Five Principles “in Japan” (l. 4)- and by implication in Japanese- she “can’t speak” (l. 6), identifying not only the language but also the situated practice of choosing core values as a challenge. She uses highly expressive language that belies the need for complex traditional grammar to express the challenge she faced: “Eh?! In Canada?! In English?!” (l. 6). Julia from Germany elaborates on her description of the session as “one of the difficult sessions” (l. 9) through the listing of various factors: “Jet lag, tired, new and then this big difficult session” (l. 11). However, she prefaces her emphatic account that she understood “nothing” (l. 15) with the qualifier “at first” (l. 13). Here she rhetorically shifts her   114 description into a narrative—a small story—about the relationship between her and her Language Buddy and fellow interviewee, Brian: “But when Brian sit next to me he- he see that and he talk more and I hear more and um I say something to him and then he say it to the others” (ll. 15-16).  The other two language learners who described the session as “difficult” also made similar rhetorical shifts marked by “but.” Like Julia, Mika also prefaces her description with “at first” (l. 22) and flips her description multiple times with multiple “buts” (l. 24, l. 26): “at first I couldn’t understand what everyone doing… but she wrote a note and teach me. So- But I couldn’t join discussion… but I could understand” (ll. 22-26).  Tomo uses a similar narrative pattern to flip “difficult” (l. 29, l. 34) to “good” (l. 34, l. 37): “Uh so mm I couldn’t understand enough to answer so: it was very difficult but it was very good experience…Because I and Miei can- I and Miei could answer “yuuki” … and uh mm I can feel Graham and Kaylee’s kindness” (ll. 34-40).  At the narrative level (positioning level 1), Miei, Julia, Mika, and Tomo construct their narrated selves as silenced outsiders facing the challenges of jet lag, a difficult task, and linguistic exclusion.  The other characters in their narratives are their Language Buddies whose words, notes, teachings, and kindness shift the narrative to a positive conclusion of relative comprehension, success, and inclusion.  These language learners carefully construct their narratives to counter-balance their accounts of a difficult experience with accounts of the helpfulness of their Language Buddies.  At the narrating level (positioning level 2), these accounts are co-constructed.  Even though my contributions are minimal and their English-fluent Language Buddies’ verbal contributions are nearly completely absent, our mere presence and role as addressee is of significance.  Graham corroborates his role as a successful and helpful communicator by offering a piece of contextual information when Tomo pauses (l. 32), a helpful   115 technique to bridge comprehension.  During their English language learning partners’ narratives, Kaylee and Graham’s silence and attentive body language can be understood as creating narrative space and encouraging their partner’s “right to speak” (Bourdieu, 1977).  In the presence of both their Language Buddies and the researcher, these narrators construct themselves as grateful to their Language Buddies and as helpful research participants as they both highlight their Language Buddies’ helpful actions and share with me the details of their linguistic struggle.  They build situated capital for themselves as being capable and thoughtful research participants in an English research interview, offering complex accounts indexed through the multiple uses of the conjunctions “and” and “but” (extending what could have been a simple answer and offering multiple complicating factors) and indexing deep consideration through the use of pauses and echoing the researcher’s words (l. 37).  Beyond the narrative and narrating situations (positioning level 3), Miei, Julia, Mika, and Tomo build social and linguistic identities and capital as successful English speakers and engaged citizens willing and able to help in the construction of institutional knowledge as participants in educational research.  At the same time, they build social and linguistic capital for their Language Buddies as they construct Graham, Kaylee, Brian, and Brandy as effective and compassionate cross-linguistic communicators, an identity that has relevance and capital at all positioning levels.  In Tomo’s case, he constructs his account to be such an expression of gratitude that his Language Buddy responds with “thank you” (l. 43).   The majority of the English-fluent Language Buddy “helpers,” on the other hand, claimed that not only was working with their Language Buddy not a burden, it was in fact a mutually beneficial process as they explored the meanings of the words in the consensus process.  Tracy—an English-fluent program participant from Toronto—for example says, “This helps me out, people were saying words that they thought.  When you get the real definition, it makes it easier   116 for you to understand and for you to- like when I was explaining it felt easier for me” (interview).  Similarly, Lucy from Montreal says, “I kind of found it actually a bit of fun to find different ways to explain things” (interview). Part of Kramsch’s (2010) symbolic competence of multilingual speakers is the ability to step outside the limitations of one’s own language and so to not have your thoughts or expression limited by the limits of your language.  For many fluent English speakers, the process of having to deeply explain words they had taken for granted seemed to help them to expand this symbolic competence for their entire group.  An expanded analysis of this co-construction of identity and power between Language Buddies can be found in chapter six.  I was often surprised to hear that English language learners also stated that they enjoyed the process and saw the mutual benefit of slowing down to explain, such as in this excerpt with German-fluent Julia and her Language Buddy, Lucy who had previously stated that she liked being a Language Buddy because “I kind of found it actually a bit of fun to try to find different ways to explain things”:  Excerpt 5.4: “Even the English language person don’t feel the same” Kim:  Alright so how about um doing the Five Principles when we were choosing the Five 1 Principles many people noticed that was a very difficult time. So how did it feel- what 2 was it like for you.  3 Julia:  Yeah I really liked the Five Principles because it was u:h- because each word like she 4 said that we- when she had to explain uh me uh what it mean, she had to- to say uh with 5 other words. And even if we were all speaking the same language we had to define 6 because even the English language person don’t feel the same. So in the group we- we- 7 we were all when we were explaining it, it helped us to know what we are talking about.  8 When we are saying “cooperation” if it’s because we are meaning the same thing as the 9   117 people or if- and everyone in the group has different (inaudible).  I really like this. Five 10 Principles. To talk about it.  11 Kim:  So you felt that you two were helping everybody. Not just each other? 12 Julia: Yes. Heh heh. 13 Kim:  Yeah. 14 Lucy:  Yes because we went from a group of two- 15 Kim:  Yeah. 16 Lucy:  -to a group of four and then eight. 17 Julia:  And it was good. 18  Anticipating a discussion on the frustration of the language-centred experience, I introduce the topic of the Five Principles as something that “many people noticed was a difficult time” (ll. 1-2).  Julia, however, immediately counters this supposition with “yeah I really liked the Five Principles” (l. 3).  In her small story, she elaborates that the very thing that I thought might make it “difficult”—the English speakers having to stop to explain the meanings of difficult words and the lengthy word-centric discussions—was in fact the very reason she enjoyed the experience: “because each word like she said that we- when she had to explain uh me uh what it mean, she had to- to say uh with other words” (ll. 3-4).  The phenomenon of forcing a fluent English speaker to rephrase the meaning of the topic of discussion is described in positive terms. She confidently states that, “even if we were speaking the same language we had to define because even the English language person don’t feel the same. So in the group we- we- we were all when we were explaining it, it helped us to know what we are talking about” (ll. 5-7).   In their responses in lines 11 and 13, Both Julia and Lucy agree with my summation that, “you felt that   118 you two were helping everyone, not just each other” (l. 10).  At the narrated level (positioning level 1), Julia and Laura co-construct an account of a successful and enjoyable communicative event in which their roles as Language Buddies delving into the denotative meaning of words was valuable to their entire group. At the narrating level (positioning level 2), this universal value is emphasized through Julia’s used of several collective words in lines 6-7 including “group”, “we” emphasized with “all,” and a collective “us” that includes not only her and Lucy, but also their entire consensus-building team.  Lucy co-constructs this account by emphasizing the widespread influence as they went from a pair all the way to a group of eight.  Again, these collaborative communications at both the narrated and narrating level build valuable situated, linguistic and social capital transportable to their social and linguistic identities as helpful citizens and capable translingual communicators beyond the present situation (positioning level 3).  Communicating across diversity can also be a source of solutions for community problems.  Graham and Tomo’s narrative explains how the challenge of working with speakers with diverse access to linguistic resources lead to the introduction of the word “yuuki” into the community discourse:   Excerpt 5.5 "We don't have a word for 'yuki'"Kim:  Okay. So how about for you Graham, how was the experience? 1 Graham:  Um I actually really enjoyed that experience because it was the first time we got to 2 do that.  3 Kim:  Yeah. 4 Graham:  And so me and Kaylee were both really really excited to have that opportunity.  5 Kim:  Yeah. 6   119 Graham:  And then we got the chance to like sit down and just talk about it for like an hour 7 and a bit. [A coordinator] was like “hurry up you guys. Hurry up hurry up.”  We’re 8 just “no, no we’re talking.”  Heh.  9 Kim:  Yeah. 10 Graham:  Um but it was really really cool because it was the first time I’d run up against that- 11 the deficiencies of the English language- we don’t have a word for “yuki.” 12 Kim:  Mm. 13 Graham:  So getting the translation exactly right on “yuki” was so interesting. I really enjoyed 14 that part.  15 Kim:  Cool. Do you remember how “yuki” came about? What’s your memory of- 16 Graham:  I have the notes somewhere. 17 Kim:  Oh really? 18 Graham:  Yeah. Somewhere. (Looking through notebook) 19 Kim:  I might need a photocopy of it. Heh heh heh heh. 20 Graham:  Heh heh.  Um I think we were going with like- yeah here we go. (Turns notebook to 21 face interviewer) 22 Kim:  Yeah. 23 Graham:  We had- it was like a combination of um courage and um I think communication as 24 well  25 Kim:  Okay, yeah. 26 Graham:  And like consensus even.  27 Kim:  Oh wow okay.  28   120 Graham:  We were trying to like conglomerate- because we wanted to put in communication 29 really really a lot and they wanted to put in courage a lot.  30 Kim:  Right. 31 Graham:  And so we were trying to like- (force) it “well communication is so important” and 32 they were like “well courage is so important” and then Miei is like “yuki.” 33 Kim:  A::h. 34 Tomo:  Yeah heh heh. 35 Graham:  Because um we wanted to get something that was the courage to communicate- 36 Kim:  Nice. 37 Graham:  -your own feelings.   38 Kim:  And then who wrote this. Is that you Tomo or is that Miei? 39 Tomo:  Ah yeah. 40 Kim:  What does it say? 41 Tomo:  Uh it’s mean when we have meeting.  42 Kim:  Yeah. 43 Tomo:  Uh it’s when we have a meeting. 44 Kim:  Yeah. 45 Tomo:  It’s a meeting of gathering everyone’s opinion.  46 Kim:  Kay. 47 Tomo:  And- okay and make- make new things.  48 Kim:  Yes. 49 Tomo:  Make new things.  50 Kim:  Yes. I remember.51   121  In this co-constructed narrative, Graham, Tomo and I build the story of how “yuuki” came to be proposed as a possible principle for the community.  In this relatively long small story, Labov’s narrative elements are helpful to organize the analysis.  Graham opens his narrative (positioning level 2) with a statement that functions as a Labovian abstract (Labov & Waletzky, 1967), or short summary of what his narrative is about: “Um I actually really enjoyed that experience because it was the first time we got to do that” (l. 2).  His characterization of the experience as enjoyable because of its novelty continues in what functions as a Labovian orientation, orienting the listener to the narrative’s situation (Labov & Waletzky, 1967): “And so me and Kaylee were both really really excited to have that opportunity” (l. 4).  Here Kaylee, the other English-dominant Language Buddy in the group, is introduced as a character sharing in his collective excitement over this “opportunity” (l. 4) that they “got to do” (l. 2) for the first time.  The complicating action, or what happens in the narrative, is both simple and profound: “And then we got the chance to like sit down and just talk about it for like an hour and a bit. [A coordinator] was like “hurry up you guys. Hurry up hurry up.”  We’re just “no, no we’re talking.”  Heh.” (ll. 6-8).  The complicating action of Graham’s narrative is simply sitting and talking for over an hour.  The value of this talk, however, is emphasized as being described as a “chance” that they “got” that is defended even when a coordinator enters the narrative.  The act of “talking” is offered as a legitimate justification for disobeying the coordinator’s request to “hurry up.”  Talking is a valuable activity in this narrative and leads to a resolution and evaluation of the narrative, showing its result and significance (Labov & Waletzky, 1967): “Um but it was really really cool because it was the first time I’d run up against that- the deficiencies of the English language- we don’t have a word for “yuki”… So getting the translation exactly right on “yuki”   122 was so interesting. I really enjoyed that part” (ll. 10-14). Graham constructs the significance of his narrative by emphasizing how cool, interesting, and enjoyable it was to discover for “the first time” the deficiencies and limitations of his dominant language.  “Yuki” is brought into the narrative for the first time, identified as a word “we don’t have” (l. 13).  The “we” here is presumably English speakers (by the present tense, perhaps specifically Graham and myself).  This functions as an effective evaluation for the narrative because in the narrating situation (an interview about communication in linguistic diversity), a narrative about the deficiencies of the English language has particularly high value.  Graham effectively weaves capital for himself at the narrative level (positioning level 1) as an enthusiastic Language Buddy devoted to the novel experience of engaging in discourse with partners with diverse linguistic resources and highly evaluating those diverse linguistic resources, focused on “getting the translation exactly right” (l. 14).  Simultaneously, Graham creates capital at the narrating level and beyond (positioning levels 2 and 3) as the provider of a valuable narrative in a research situation about linguistic diversity and linguistic privilege—value I confirm as I ask further questions about “yuki” and indicate I would value a photocopy of his notes (ll. 15-19).     In lines 20-49, the narrative shifts to the specifics of how “yuki” entered the discourse.  Using the notes that they wrote during the process as reference, Graham lists the English words they were trying to combine or “conglomerate”: courage, communication, and consensus.  Graham sets up the orientation of this narrative as a conflict between two groups (Graham and Tomo vs. Kaylee and Miei) and two ideas (communication vs. courage, respectively): “We were trying to like conglomerate- because we wanted to put in communication really really a lot and they wanted to put in courage a lot” (ll. 26-27).  The drama of the conflict is emphasized through words like “really” and “a lot”: both sides are characterized as being deeply invested in the   123 values they want to “put in” to the final five.  The complicating action and conflict continue to escalate until a resolution is reached: “And so we were trying to like- (force) it “well communication is so important” and they were like “well courage is so important” and then Miei is like “yuki”” (ll. 29-30).  Here Graham skillfully constructs the narrative as a heated and equal debate between a “we” and a “they” who both believe their respective value is “so important.”  Into this debate, Miei’s voice is characterized as saying simply “yuki” (l. 30), the simplicity of which interrupts the debate and is offered as a perfect solution.  At this point of resolution, Tomo enters the narrative for the first time, offering “yeah” and a laugh, as though approving Graham’s telling of the shared event.  Graham then continues to offer evaluation of the significance of the narrative and of “yuki” as a perfect solution by explaining “because um we wanted to get something that was the courage to communicate… your own feelings” (ll. 33-35).  While it is debatable whether this complexity is actually inherent in the denotative meaning of “yuuki” in Japanese (while it is translated in Graham’s notebook below by Tomo as “strong mind,” Yusuke, another Japanese-fluent participant, later states that “yuuki” simply means “courage”), in the context of this discourse, this is the complex connotation it comes to hold.     Tomo then translates the other Japanese words that were also being included in the conversation, including one that means “a meeting to gather everyone’s opinion… and make new things” (ll. 45-49), a word that likely entered the discourse as they debated the multilingual meaning and value of “consensus” itself.  Tomo and Miei’s narrated offering of Japanese words throughout the consensus-building process as they learn English is an example of what Blackledge and Creese (2010) call a flexible bilingualism that values the resourcefulness of multilingual students as they draw from multiple languages to negotiate their meanings and identities.  The multiple Japanese and English words in the notebook (see Fig. 5.1 below) and the   124 narrative are indicative of this group’s recognition that all linguistic resources were valuable in this task and that English had “deficiencies” for which Japanese could compensate.  Working to negotiate meaning across linguistic diversity in the roles of “Language Buddies” has lead to a narrative that seems to feature the kind of students that Janks (2009) hopes critical literacy will produce: students who “understand why linguistic diversity is a resource for creativity and cognition, who value all the languages they speak, and who recognize the paucity of English only” (p. 12). As Miei and Tomo propose values in Japanese, they perform identities that value the languages they speak; as Graham identifies the “deficiencies” of the English language, he performs an identity that recognizes the paucity of English only; and as all four invest these identities into enthusiastically exploring the options available to them in both English and Japanese to break the deadlock between “courage” and “communication,” they seem to understand why linguistic diversity is a resource for creativity and cognition.  Diversity provides the design resources with which these cosmopolitan citizens can build identities and value for themselves and their community.  In these accounts of the consensus-building process in general, the struggle to communicate across linguistic diversity is acknowledged.  The struggle to collaborate across language barriers takes more time, limits participation, and makes the task difficult.  However, this struggle is also characterized as a positive aspect of identity and social practice.  The participants’ willingness to engage in the struggle may index a kind of translingual compassion and ultimately communicative success.  For some, this engagement is also characterized as being helpful to the larger community as it builds clearer and deeper meaning for all.  Ultimately, the skills and characteristics the Language Buddies are building through sustained engagement with   125 the struggle of diverse communication may be transported to affect their ongoing identities beyond the communicative situation into their role in society at large.    Figure 5.2 Graham and Tomo’s Five Principles notes   5.4.2 Spokes Council: Diversity and domination The struggle to honour diversity continues in the diverse and divergent accounts of how the Spokes Council that ultimately selected “yuuki” as a principle came to be.  Drawing on common consensus-building practices, once the groups reached the limit of manageability (16 people) and each group had presented the principles they had agreed upon, two members of each 16 person group were chosen to make a “Spokes Council”.  Of the 92 person community, 14 were chosen from their discussion groups to form this Spokes Council and continue the process to reach a final consensus on the Five Principles that would symbolically guide the whole community.  Three Language Buddies were part of the Spokes Council: English-fluent Lucy and Japanese-fluent Miei and Tomo. Miei and Tomo were silent for most of the Spokes Council   126 consensus process, except for the discussions around the proposed value “yuuki.”  They worked together to write the Japanese characters on the board and explain the meaning of each character alone and the meaning of the characters combined.  Their symbolic capital as Japanese speakers was demonstrated in this part of the discussion; however, it did not necessarily transfer into the rest of the discussion.  A discourse analysis of the diverging accounts of how it came to be that after the two-hour highly language-intensive session, two of the Japanese participants “volunteered” to be on the Spokes Council to continue the discussion for several more hours reveals nuances of power relations that were reflected in the Spokes Council discourse as well.  Excerpt 5.6 “ “Let’s go!” So go.” Kaylee:  And so it was just myself, Miei, Graham and Tomo. A(h)nd we used up the whole 1 time like that.  And then Miei and Tomo went together as Language Buddies to 2 each other to do the um- they represent- were the spokes persons- people for our 3 group because you really wanted to do that so- heh heh. 4 Kim:  Yeah. Did you want to be on the Spokes Council? 5 Miei:  Mm? Shifts in seat. 6 Kim:  So then you went to the smaller group later:- 7 Miei:  Yeah. 8 Kim:  Did you want to do that? 9 Miei:  Heh  [heh heh 10 Kim:    [Heh heh heh 11 Kaylee:    [Heh heh. 12 Kim:  Why did you do it? Heh heh. 13 Miei:  Eh?  Mm.  (3.0). Why? 14   127 Kim:  Yeah. 15 Miei:  Uh- the day is very fast. N? 16 Kim:  Yeah. 17 Miei:  First week- 18 Kim:  Yes. 19 Miei:  -so I didn't know what happened.   20 Kim:  Ah. 21 Miei:  Heh. “Let’s go!”  So go. 22 Kaylee:  Heh heh. 23 Kim:  I understand. So accidentally “oh here I am”. Ah I see. Well I was very glad that 24 you were there- I was very happy that you were there.  25 Miei:  Thank you.26  In Kaylee’s account (positioning level 1), Miei and Tomo were “Language Buddies to each other” (l. 3) who shared agency and went to the Spokes Council willingly.  Whereas just previously Kaylee had referred to her co-interviewee in the third-person (“it was just myself, Miei…” l. 2), when she explains how Miei ended up on the Spokes Council, Kaylee refers to Miei directly in the second-person: “you really wanted to do that” (l. 3) (positioning level 2).  Here Kaylee speaks for Miei, reporting her desires, but also speaks to Miei in a way that creates discursive space for Miei’s own account.  This raises issues of power through questions of truth and tellership rights.  Typically, the one who “owns” the experience “owns” the narrative and the right to tell it (Sacks, 1970/2010).  While the narrative analysis here does not seek narratives as descriptions of objective truth, “truth” in the form of credibility is important as narrators gain power through credibility, or “the possibility for a story or a narrator to be accepted as truthful”   128 (De Fina & Georgakopoulou, 2012, p. 138).  De Fina and Georgakopoulou (2012) note that credibility “is often based on the primacy of personal experience over other forms of experience and knowledge, hence the widely held view of narrative as a privileged genre for communicating personal experience” (138).  They further note the danger of narrating someone else’s experience: “speaking on behalf of another… raises issues of entitlement (i.e. who has the right to tell whose story?) and can be contested on the grounds of lack of ownership” (2012, pp. 146–147).  It may be that as Kaylee begins to talk about Miei’s participation and desire for participation in the Spokes Council, Kaylee recognizes that she lacks the ownership of this part of the story and thus addresses Miei so that she can tell her story.  At this point, I read Miei’s hesitation (both verbal and gestural) as a possible sign of a disagreement and ask, “did you want to be on the Spokes Council?” (l. 4), explicitly opening space in the discourse for a divergent account.  Miei hesitates to offer one, first seeming to not understand or avoiding the directness of the question with a raised intonation, “Mm?” (l. 5).  As I begin to re-phrase, she interrupts “yeah,” indicating that comprehension is not the problem in this moment.  In response to my repeated and re-emphasized question in line 8, Miei laughs and we all join her in recognition that her laughter indicates the probable answer “no.”  I then pursue a follow-up question: “Why did you do it?” (l. 12).  Miei uses her turn to repeat, stall, and pause.  Finally, in lines 15-21 Miei offers her contrasting account with frequent positive interviewer feedback: “the day is very fast… the first week… I didn’t know what happened… ‘Let’s go!’ So go.”  Rather than volunteering because she really wanted to participate, Miei frames the account at the narrated level as a case of miscomprehension- someone (her Language Buddy? The other Japanese participant?) told her to go, so she went.  Kaylee and I join her again in shared laughter at the narrating level to indicate that this is a perfectly acceptable account and I offer that I was glad   129 she was there (rephrased as “happy” to ensure comprehension) so that both Kaylee and Miei could feel comfortable that, whatever the story of how it came to be, it resulted in something positive.    The account of Tomo, the other Japanese-dominant member of the Spokes Council, shows remarkable parallels: Excerpt 5.7 “To tell the truth… I couldn’t understand”Graham:  And then later on for the council- 1 Kim:  Yes. 2 Graham:  Tomo and Miei got to go and I understand you didn’t really-  weren’t able to catch 3 up with the conversation very much.  4 Kim:  Mm hm. 5 Graham: But you got to talk about “yuki” as well. Which is °which is really cool°. 6 Kim: Mm hm. Yeah and was that something you discussed like “hey maybe you should 7 go to the council?” 8 Graham: Yeah well it was um Kaylee and I decided that it was a lot better because I mean 9 most of our words weren’t that important but “yuki” is kind of special. 10 Kim: Important so you sent the “yuki” representatives.  How was the Spokes Council 11 for you? 12 Tomo: Spokes Council? 13 Kim: yeah that smaller group it was you, Miei, [Lucy].  14 Tomo: [Lucy]?15  (Turns 16-25 of naming people omitted)Graham: And other people as well. Remember after we did the five principle- after we 26 talked about them you and Miei and um Kaylee and me 27   130 Tomo: Uh. 28 Graham: We decided that you and Miei would go and re- talk about them some more. 29 Tomo: A:h! I remember! 30 Kim: How was that? 31 Tomo: Uh okay um it- to tell the truth,  32 Kim: Yeah.  33 Tomo: I couldn’t understand. 34 Kim: I know. Heh heh heh heh. 35 Tomo: Heh heh.  36 Graham: Heh heh. 37 Kim: I couldn’t understand. Honestly. 38 Graham: I can imagine.  39 Tomo: Yeah. And because everyone’s discussion is too speedy.  40 Kim: Yeah. 41 Tomo: And use the word which I know- I don’t know.  42 Kim: Me neither.  43 Tomo: A:nd sometimes I can understand.  44 Kim: Yeah. 45 Tomo: But u::m but some- a little sometimes. 46 Kim: Yes. 47 Tomo: Sometimes I – I can understand but I can’t- I can’t understand. 48 Kim: Yeah. 49 Tomo: I couldn’t understand. 50   131 Kim: Ah I see. 51 Tomo: So I can’t answer- I can’t express my mind.  52 Kim: Yeah. 53 Tomo:  I couldn’t, I couldn’t- couldn’t. 54  Like Kaylee, Graham describes the Japanese participants’ participation in the Spokes Council (positioning level 1) in positive terms as a way of honouring and recognizing these multilingual voices and resources: they “got to go” (l. 3) and “you got to talk about ‘yuki’ which was really cool” (l. 6).  Here the shift from the third person to the second person is reminiscent of Kaylee’s shift above—as the narrative shifts into an experience “owned” by Tomo, Graham also shifts the addressee, perhaps to bring Tomo into the conversation.  At the same time as highlighting the privilege of having the opportunity to attend the Spokes Council and the “coolness” of getting to talk about “yuki,” Graham’s narrative acknowledges other perspectives on this “volunteering,” including that it was a difficult communication situation for Tomo to enter and that the decision to attend was not Tomo’s own: “well it was um Kaylee and I decided that it was a lot better because I mean most of our words weren’t that important but “yuki” is kind of special” (ll. 8-9).  Graham seems to perhaps show hesitation to construct a narrative in which it was the English-fluent members who had the agency to decide that Miei and Tomo should go to the Spokes Council and immediately reframes it as decision that was made to honour the value of the “important” and “kind of special” value, “yuki” (l. 10).  Here Tomo’s linguistic identity as a Japanese speaker (positioning level 3) links him to the linguistic resource, “yuki,” which is imbued with high cultural capital through its description as being “important” and “kind of special.”  Through his hesitation and re-framing, Graham works discursively at the narrating   132 level to maintain his overall positioning as a multilingually aware community member and leader constructing capital for his Japanese-fluent Language Buddy, an identity also mirrored at the narrating level as he engages in the practice of bringing Tomo into the conversation. It takes several turns (from line 13-26) for the three of us to negotiate and clarify for Tomo which session we are talking about.  However, after this lengthy clarification, Tomo very succinctly answers the question of how the experience was for him through a small story: “to tell the truth… I didn’t understand” (ll. 34-36).  He then elaborates that he couldn’t understand because “everyone’s discussion is too speedy” (l. 42) and “use the word which I do not know” (l. 44).  In Tomo’s narrative (positioning level 1), the other members of the Spokes Council are described as an “everyone” whose speed and choice of words leave Tomo linguistically excluded from the conversation, unable to understand or express.  This is in tension with Tomo’s own previous statement that the overall Five Principles experience was “good… because I and Miei… could answer ‘yuuki’… and I can feel Graham and Kaylee’s kindness” (excerpt 5.3, ll. 37-40).  Here the tension is between being honoured for their diverse linguistic resources, but lacking access to dominant linguistic resources that are key to participating in dominant discourse about honouring diverse linguistic resources.  This is an example of what Janks (2009) refers to as the “access paradox” and is further explored in chapter 6.  Lucy, an English-dominant Language Buddy who was also on the council offers an account to explain the linguistic challenge they faced:      133 Excerpt 5.8: “But the great thing was the transformation”Lucy:  Oh Spokes Council. Um and the first time ‘cause there were two of the Japanese um and 1 also I think but I believe almost everyone else in our group was first language English 2 speakers.   3 Kim: Right. 4 Lucy: So our first round it was like this ongoing debate.  Nah nah nah. And we all couldn’t like 5 you know- We were all trying to push our point and not really actually- Okay we were 6 trying not to make it a debate, but that’s sort of how it has a tendency to go because when 7 two people have opposite ideas then it’s a clash.  Um and it was going really really fast in 8 terms of conversation and you could barely get a word in edgewise, much less if it was 9 your second language- you would just be overwhelmed.  But then the great thing was the 10 transformation the second time we met because um we were all kind of really tired and 11 we were exhausted and everyone was just like “Let’s- let’s either get it done now or we 12 do this later or we don’t really want to- and we let go of some of what was- and I guess 13 we had some time to sit on it and reflect and now we were just a little more willing to 14 compromise I guess. 15 Kim: Right. 16 Lucy: Not compromise just- not stuck in a rut.  17 Kim:  Mm-hm. 18 Lucy: I guess.  Um- And that second time around we got it done so quickly and everyone spoke.  19 And that made it so much better for us because we took it a little slower, we were all a 20 little tired.   21   134  In the first half of Lucy’s narrative (ll. 5-10), she makes linguistic identity relevant as an explanation for how the discourse was shaped: other than the two Japanese participants, “everyone else in our group was first language English speakers” (ll. 2-3).  She links this lack of overall linguistic diversity causally with the conjunction “so” followed by an account of how the task led them to fall into “debate” mode and speak much faster than usual: “Okay we were trying not to make it a debate, but that’s sort of how it has a tendency to go because when two people have opposite ideas then it’s a clash” (ll. 6-7).  She describes the resultant communicative environment as “going really really fast in terms of conversation and you could barely get a word in edgewise, much less if it was your second language- you would just be overwhelmed” (ll. 8-10).  At the level of the narrative (positioning level 1), Lucy constructs herself as part of a larger group of English-dominant speakers caught up in a fast-paced ongoing debate characterized through the meaningless syllables “nah nah nah” (l. 5).  This may be a difficult account for Lucy to give as she, herself, is a Language Buddy so may feel a sense of responsibility for having created a non-inclusive communication environment.  However, at the level of the narrating (positioning level 2), Lucy partially absolves herself of neglecting her Language Buddy duties by clarifying that she and the other English speakers were “not trying to make it a debate,” but that such fast-paced oppositional discourse is simply a natural “tendency,” implying she should not be held accountable.  While at the narrative level she was participating in patterns of communication that excluded the non-English-dominant members, at the narrating level she makes the effort to justify this behavior and thus protect her Language Buddy identity. She then demonstrates her Language Buddy status by noting the difficulty in the environment. This is the climax of her narrative.  She makes it a positive narrative by then framing the second meeting of the Spokes Council as a “transformation” (l. 10) where the participants were “a little more   135 willing to compromise” (ll. 14-15) so they “got it done so quickly and everyone spoke” (ll. 19-20) and it was “much better for us because we took it a little slower” (l. 20).  Although she credits this transformation primarily to their being “exhausted” (l. 12) and “tired” (l. 21), the result is described as a positive, inclusive environment.  In Lucy’s narrative (at both positioning levels 1 and 2), the kind of fast-paced debating that left the less English-fluent members lost is evaluated negatively (or neutrally as a “tendency”) while slower discussion that would be more inclusive for all members is evaluated more positively.  The transformation she narrates between the linguistically unaware self caught up in meaningless debate in the first session and a more subdued yet discursively aware self participating in a meaningful (if tired) discussion in which everyone is included is also mirrored in the transformation between the narrated self first making this transition and the narrating self who works to be consistently viewed as discursively inclusive and aware.  The diverse narratives around the Spokes Council selection and consensus processes highlight the access paradox (Janks, 2009) as the participants struggle to have linguistically-diverse voices heard in the community.  Honouring diversity also requires a means of providing access to the dominant discourse, be that through language education or adjusting the discursive norms.  A second paradox is also shown here through Blackledge and Creese’s definition of multilingualism: “the appropriation and incorporation for meaning-making of any and all linguistic resources which come to hand” (Blackledge & Creese, 2010, p. 17).  The word “appropriation” has a negative connotation when it is a “dominant” group “appropriating” cultural artifacts from a “dominated” group.  At the same time, in this case the multilingual terms are being “appropriated” by a diverse group, including speakers of the language from which they are appropriated.  The struggle to have “yuuki” included in the final Five Principles can be   136 understood simultaneously as appropriation, honouring diversity, and expressing a diverse identity for the community.   5.4.3 Yuuki: Diversity and symbolic capital So far this chapter has examined some of the complexity of the contrast between a community that identifies as valuing diversity while struggling with the situated practice of engaging with that diversity.  Ultimately, the choice of the Japanese word, “yuuki” as one of the five core principles of the group was framed as a symbolic-capital building experience. As interviewees described the Five Principles, “yuuki” held a marked discursive position. As mentioned previously, Graham referred to “yuuki” as being “kind of special,” in contrast to their other four values which were “not really that important.”  This marked position of “yuuki” is highlighted as Graham and I co-construct a narrative about the first moment the whole community heard the word “yuuki” (after the small group consensus and just before the Spokes Council was chosen):   Excerpt 5.9  "I was like super stoked for the word because I knew it was cool"Kim:  Now I remember you, Graham, announcing- 1 Graham:  Heh heh heh heh heh. 2 Kim:  -your group’s Five Principles to the group. 3 Graham:  They loved it!  4 Kim:  Yeah! Were you- what were you thinking at the time. Because I know you 5 purposefully? maybe? saved “yuki” for last? 6 Graham:  Y(h)eah. Well- 7 Kim:  What was- 8   137 Graham:  Um I was like super stoked for the word because I knew it was cool.  9 Kim:  Yeah.  10 Graham:  And so I wanted to make it little bit dramatic obviously. 11 Kim:  Ye:s.  12 Graham:  But then when they- people were clapping and giving it shooting stars 13 Kim:  Yeah. 14 Graham:  I was like “whoa” they really like this one so I was- I actually was surprised and 15 delighted that they were so stoked about it. 16  I begin the shared story (Georgakopoulou, 2007) of a shared or known event with, “Now I remember you, Graham, announcing… your group’s Five Principles to the group” (ll. 1-3).  Graham responds to this shared story with laughter, which Georgakopolou (2007) has argued indexes recognition and connection of the laugher to the teller and the teller’s story.  Graham’s evaluation of the event, which comes to serve as the abstract of his story, is “they loved it!” (l. 4).  Because we had earlier been talking about “yuki,” my assumption is that he is referring to his announcement of “yuki” specifically: “I know you purposefully? Maybe? Saved yuki for last” (ll. 5-6).  In my narration of the event, I suggest that Graham built capital for “yuki” by saving its announcement for last, reminiscent of the saying “save the best for last.”  After first responding with more laughter (l. 7), Graham takes up the narrative, offering an orientation: “Um I was like super stoked for the word because I knew it was cool… And so I wanted to make it little bit dramatic obviously” (ll. 9-11).  At the narrative level (positioning level 1), Graham as a character uses his agency to (in my words) “purposefully” shape the discursive situation in a way that both recognizes and constructs the capital of the word “yuki”: because the word was “cool” (l. 9), he   138 was “super stoked” for it (l. 9) and it was “obviously” worthy of a “dramatic” (l. 11) announcement to the community.  The complicating action of the narrative is the community’s response to “yuki” and his announcement of “yuki”: “But then when they- people were clapping and giving it shooting stars… I was like “whoa” they really like this one” (ll. 13-15). In Graham’s narrative, the community (“they” or “people”) participates in the recognition and construction of the capital of “yuki” by “clapping” and “giving it shooting starts” (l. 13).  “Shooting stars” is a gestured sign of gratitude introduced on the first day and used frequently in the community.  Finally, Graham offers his resolution and evaluation of the “yuki” narrative: “so I was- I actually was surprised and delighted that they were so stoked about it” (1. 15).  Just as he had been “super stoked for the word” (l. 9) at the beginning of the narrative, the entire community is “so stoked about it” (l. 15) at the end.  Graham has successfully communicated to the community the power of the word built up through discourse within his group of four participants.  He indexes being both “surprised and delighted” (l. 15) at this reception. Like the reception of an identity text (Cummins, 2009, 2011), the community’s response reflects the speaker’s identity and his group’s identity back to him/them in a positive light.  The extent to which “yuki” has become an identity text for both Tomo and Graham is shown in the following excerpt as they discuss how “yuki” was ultimately chosen by the Spokes Council as one of the final Five Principles of the community: Excerpt 5.10 "I was happy" Kim:  Yeah. And how did you feel when “yuuki” was chosen? 1 Tomo:  Ah yuuki choose a::h. (3.0)  2 Kim:  How did you feel to see “oh a Japanese word was chosen”? 3 Tomo:  U:h. I’m v- was very happy because I- I can feel they- I can feel we- Japanese was 4 allowed by everyone  5   139 Kim:  Mm. 6 Tomo:  -so °I was happy°. 7 Kim:  Nice. How did you feel when the council came back and announced and “yuuki” 8 was still there? 9 Graham:  I was so happy.  10 Kim:  Heh heh heh. 11 Tomo:  Heh heh heh. 12 Graham:  I don’t know, it was just really really appropriate for me because of the Japanese 13 influence in the camp.  14 Kim:  Nice. 15 Graham:  That that happened and also just because like the four of us included that really 16 strong effort.  17 Kim:  Yeah. 18 Graham:  And then it being rewarded in that awesome way I was just really really pleased by 19 that. 20 Kim:  Cool.21 Here Tomo, Graham, and I co-construct the value of “yuuki” as a heteroglossic authoritative utterance (Bakhtin, 1986).  When Tomo doesn’t offer an immediate verbal answer to how he felt when “yuuki” was chosen (l. 2), I paraphrase my question, this time replacing “yuuki” with “a Japanese word”: “How did you feel to see ‘oh, Japanese word has been chosen?’” (l. 3).  This makes the word’s Japanese origin a relevant category for discussion and comment.  Tomo’s response takes the form of a short narrative: “U:h. I’m v- was very happy because I- I can feel   140 they- I can feel we- Japanese was allowed by everyone… -so °I was happy°” (ll. 4-6).  In Tomo’s narrative (positioning level 1), Tomo as a character was happy when a Japanese word was chosen as a founding principle because it made him feel that his language, Japanese, was “allowed by everyone” (l. 6).  By entering the official authoritative discourse of the community, Japanese linguistic resources are demonstrated to be allowed, accepted, and valued by the community.  Tomo draws on his linguistic identity as a Japanese speaker (positioning level 3): when Japanese resources are recognized as legitimate (Bourdieu, 1991) resources, this can transfer into Japanese speakers being recognized as legitimate members of the community of practice.  At the narrating level (positioning level 2), perhaps an echo of the connection between allowable resources and allowable speakers is the false start in which Tomo changes “I can feel we-” to “I can feel… Japanese was allowed by everyone” (l. 6).    One Japanese participant, Yusuke, questioned the choice of a token Japanese word: “If everyone knows that- what that word means. Maybe no problem.  But, it is ‘courage,’ so we can write ‘courage.’  Why only ‘yuuki’?” (Yusuke, interview). With characteristic humour, he questions the arbitrary symbolic valuing of this particular linguistic resource and the tokenism of having a word in Japanese for the sake of having a word in Japanese (Yusuke’s narrative on the Five Principles is further explored in chapter 6).  For most of the Japanese-fluent participants, however, the group’s decision to have a Japanese word as a principle was represented in interviews as a source of happiness and pride as it indexed a positive valuing of their symbolic capital with Miei and Natsumi joining Tomo in using the word “happy” (excerpt 5.10, line 4) to describe their feelings towards its inclusion (italics are my emphasis):  Miei:  I want everyone to know Japanese words, … so I was pleased by one Japanese word.  Very happy.   141 Natsumi: Mm. I was so happy to- mm- to chose- choose Japanese word and I- I have to do yuuki it’s easy to speak in Japanese because I can speak Japanese.   Miei in particular narrates a desire for the community to know Japanese words.  Translingual practices are especially common in communities that share common multilingual resources (Canagarajah, 2013), so having these resources known on a community scale is important to their value as usable community resources.    Graham also uses the word “happy” in his narrative about hearing the news “yuuki” was chosen as a one of the final Five Principles (excerpt 5.10, l. 10).  He offers two explanations for this happiness: first that the choice of a Japanese word was “just really really appropriate for me because of the Japanese influence in the camp” (l1. 13-14); and second “just because like the four of us included that really strong effort. …  And then it being rewarded in that awesome way I was just really really pleased by that” (ll. 16-19).  The first reason ties his pleasure with the choice of the word to the way in which the word reflects the diversity of the community: the heteroglossic (Bakhtin, 1981) word gains value through its symbolic capital linked to the diversity of the community.  His investment (Norton, 2000, 2013) into diverse linguistic practices is linked to entry into a community marked by diversity.  The second reason ties the word’s capital to the effort invested in its creation by “the four of us”: again, a significant identity investment (Norton, 2000, 2013) as the two English-dominant speakers and the two Japanese-dominant speakers who made a “really strong effort” to construct meaning across diversity.  That effort is “rewarded” when the word is chosen, so the word’s symbolic capital is transferred to the group of four who worked tirelessly to bring it into the community’s discourse.  “Yuuki” has capital both for the Japanese speakers from whose language it comes and for the non-Japanese speakers into whose discourse it enters.    142 Lucy constructs her narrative of what “yuki” meant for the Spokes Council:  Excerpt 5.11: “I think it’s one of our coolest principles” Lucy: For the Spokes Council we liked more of what was represented in that word- 1 Kim:  Mm hm.  2 Lucy: -than so much of its- I-I don’t know how to explain this. We were trying to show that we 3 want to draw in from other cultures and be diverse and we liked the idea of it being two 4 different characters but having a third meaning.   5 Kim: Right.  6 Lucy: And- but the funniest thing is of the Five Principles I think it’s the one I like the most. It’s 7 the one I consciously think of.  I’ll be like “okay let me have the yuki and be first person 8 to raise my hand.”  That- I- I- do that while for a lot of the other ones- I don’t know- It 9 just doesn’t so much occur to me I guess. 10 Kim: Mm hm.  11 Lucy: So maybe it’s- I don’t know, I think it’s one of our coolest principles if that’s possible to 12 have.  13 Kim: And Julia you’re nodding. Is it the same for you? 14 Julie: Yeah I like this because uh we don’t know the- we- We just know the image of what it 15 represent- we never- when I ask what it means everybody says I don’t know we must 16 create it.   17 Kim: So it works better than the words. 18 Julie: Yes.   19 Kim: Interesting. 20 Julie:  Because we have an image. 21   143  For Lucy, there is indexed significance in the choice of a non-English linguistic resource: beyond the denotation of the word itself, Lucy marks it as symbolic of the community’s desire to “draw on other cultures and be diverse” (l. 4). This takes advantage of what Kramsch (2010) calls the “symbolic [2]” aspect of language whereby there are subjective meanings of signs beyond the denotative (p. 7). Different modalities and semiotic systems offer different subject positions to their speakers, and these identities are highly situated and context-dependent. At the time, it seems that Lucy was not particularly drawn to the (denotative) meaning of the word, but was drawn to the symbolic capital of the group it represented.  As Julie comments, it is precisely the lack of denotative meaning that allowed the symbolic capital of “yuuki” to grow: “Yeah I like this because uh we don’t know the- we- We just know the image of what it represent- we never- when I ask what it means everybody says I don’t know we must create it” (ll. 15-17).  The false start shifts the focus from what they “don’t know” to what they do “know”: “we just know the image of what it represent” and “we must create [the meaning]”- although the community is not clear on the denotative meaning of the principle, they are clear on their co-constructed image of what the word represents.  Furthermore, Lucy’s comment that “yuki” is “the one [she] like[s] the most,” (l. 7) “the one [she] consciously think[s] of” (ll. 7-8) and “the coolest principle” (l. 12) is echoed in the data as it is the most frequently cited principle by Japanese and non-Japanese participants alike, such as when Natsumi says “I speak my opinion and have yuki” or when Tomo says his greatest challenge was “at first, having “yuki”” or when English-dominant Arielle says she joined Language Buddies to “help out with the yuki they need to come here with all these English speakers” or comments that Miki has “such amazing opinions and so much yuki” (all quotes from exit interviews).  The word “yuuki”/“yuki” fits very comfortably into the   144 heteroglossic discourse of the program through its recognition as one of the community’s Five Principles. It was the first of several Japanese words to enter into the daily discourse of PSYL:  イケメン(“ikemen” or ‘hot guy’) and a Japanese gesture to indicate the object of one’s affection were also frequently heard and seen around the seminar by the end of week one.  Especially for the non-Japanese speakers, the “coolness” of the principle was is over-riding characteristic (italics are my emphasis):  Tracy:  I thought it was cool, I liked it.  …Yeah I’ve said it to people!  You’ve heard me, I say it! I’ve started using Japanese expressions! Louis:  There’s no word in English.  So it was nice to have that word in it’s original meaning.  It was really cool to like agree on Five Principles across language barriers Graham:  It was really really cool because it was the first time I’d run up against that the deficiencies of the English language- we don’t have a word for “yuki”… Um I was like super stoked for the word because I thought it was cool.  I was super stoked for the word because I knew it was cool.  Lucy:  So maybe it’s- I don’t know, I think it’s one of our coolest principles if that’s possible to have.   Among adolescents, things that are high in cultural capital are “cool,” so for a word to be described as “cool” indicates that it is associated with high cultural capital.  Overall, the value of “yuuki” as a linguistic resource for the community was originally constructed through the lengthy discursive process of consensus-building and then continued to be compounded by its   145 frequent intertexual use and authoritatively “cool” evaluation by English-fluent speakers. Here, English-fluent speakers seem to still hold the power and privilege in the valuation of linguistic resources by deciding what is “cool” and making the final decision on which words are included in the Five Principles. However, what marks this discursive community is that these same English-fluent speakers who hold the power also seem to hold an awareness of this power as they carefully construct narratives to explicitly bring value to their non-English-fluent partners and community members. While in the end this is still an English-dominant community, it is also a multilingual symbolic-capital-dominant community that values and creates space for plurilingual practices.  5.5 Discussion and Conclusions This chapter focused on diversity as an essential strand of critical pedagogy and transformative multiliteracies.  Drawing on diverse linguistic resources and performing a cosmopolitan cool identity became part of the discursive practices of the community.  The findings here support pedagogical theories that argue for the inclusion of students’ first languages in the classroom (Cenoz & Gorter, 2011; Cummins, 2009; García & Flores, 2012; García & Sylvan, 2011; Hélot, 2012; Hornberger, 2010; Martin-Jones, Blackledge, & Creese, 2012; New London Group, 2000).  By drawing on their diverse linguistic resources, English language learners were able to contribute value to participate in community discourse and contribute value to the community.  Their plurilingual (Lin, 2013; Taylor & Snoddon, 2013) identities as not only English language learners, but also Spanish, Mandarin, or Japanese speakers became highly-valued social identities as their resources helped the community overcome a difficult challenge.  However, the findings here contribute two further perspectives   146 to the literature on diversity.  First, it is not only the identities of the speakers of languages other than English that are invested in the use of multiple languages: the speakers of the “dominant” language are also invested in multilingual discourse.  Their identities as cosmopolitan citizens (Luke, 2004b) are invested into the diversification of discourse.  Nurturing these identities is key to the inclusion of diverse voices in our communities.  To the extent that speakers of the dominant language identify with a global, cosmopolitan, inclusive identity, they will accept, encourage, appreciate, and strive for more diversity in the community’s discourse.  Relatedly, the second key finding is the role of power and access in any discussion about diversity.  The struggle to have diverse voices heard is real, even in a community that repeatedly prides itself on being linguistically diverse.  The social practice of inclusion lags behind the identity of inclusion and requires pedagogical support and intervention as is further described in chapter 6.   Because discursive norms of a community are in a dialogic relationship with actual utterances in the community, there is always space for diverse voices to shape the culture.  However, it is unequal power relations that affect which utterances have the cultural and symbolic capital (Bourdieu, 1991) to be heard and to shift the norms.  In this international education community of practice, multilingual competence is imbued with enough cultural capital and “cool” to shape the founding principles of the group.  The group identity is marked by linguistic inclusion and cosmopolitan cool.  Even while the situated practice may fall short of this imagined group identity as language learners continue to struggle to understand and be understood, the official discourse—the authoritative utterances—of the community are marked by linguistic diversity.  In addition, pura vida and yuuki transcended the idealized abstraction of a list of principles to become frequently used words in utterances throughout the community, shaping the discourse at both the authoritative level of the system and the situated level of the   147 instantiation.  Each continued use intertextually strengthened the authority of the utterance and marked its speaker with the symbolic capital of being a cosmopolitan leader.    Differences within a community provide it with a rich diversity of design resources that can be used to solve community problems (Janks, 2009), shape community identity (Norton, 2000; 2004), and shift the discourse in productive ways.  In order to tap into this plethora of potentially available designs, pedagogical design needs to create the discursive space for diverse identities to be invested (Norton, 2000, 2013) and reflected back in a positive light (Cummins & Early, 2011).  When the community identity of inclusion and cosmopolitanism is activated in discourse, diverse voices and diverse designs are more likely to be welcomed into the field.  The explicit instructions to do things differently and value every voice helps to shape the discursive practices that in turn shape the discursive norms.  Ultimately, these participants are cosmopolitan and cool because they use “yuuki” and “pura vida,” and they use “yuuki” and “pura vida” because they are cosmopolitan and cool.  Practice, identity, and resources are mutually constitutive and dialogic (Norton & Toohey, 2011).  In turn, these terms are used because they are authoritative, and they are authoritative because they are used.    “Yuuki,” “kai,” and “pura vida” function as identity texts (Cummins & Early, 2011).  It can be argued that the Japanese, Mandarin, and Spanish speakers invest their linguistic identities into the production of these texts in an environment that actively promotes cross-lingual transfer and language awareness and that encourages students to view their multilingual talents as a valued component of their identities (Cummins et al., 2005).  However, it is not only the Japanese speakers and Spanish speakers who invest their identities into these texts’ production; it is the entire community investing their identities into these texts as the foundational authoritative utterances of the community.  The identity that is invested in the case of Miei and Tomo may be   148 their linguistic identity as “Japanese speakers”; however, Graham and Kaylee are equally invested in these texts.  This is because linguistic identities are not limited to the theoretically bounded group of linguistic resources we label as “languages”; rather, linguistic identities can include “multilingual speaker” (able to speak many of these “languages”), “translingual speaker” (able to communicate across these “languages”), “cosmopolitan speaker” (able to transcend the divisions between these languages in a global way), and “linguistically inclusive speaker” (able to include speakers of other “languages” in an inclusive way).   It is these meta-linguistic-identities that are invested into the words “yuki” and “pura vida.”  Once these identities are invested, the repeated intertextual use and re-use of these utterances in situated practice creates cultural and symbolic capital for its speakers—it co-creates their cosmopolitan “cool.”  In conclusion, the findings in this chapter support educational policies and practices that encourage students to draw on all of their diverse meaning-making resources.  In an era marked by super diversity, embracing plurilingual practices in our classrooms prepares not only our English language learners, but all of our students for success in a complex and unpredictable social future.  However, an appreciation of diversity along does not create citizens devoted to local and global equity and inclusion.  Other aspects of critical pedagogy (access, power, and design) are explored in the following chapters.    149 Chapter 6: Access  6.1 Diversity and Access  While building cultural capital for diverse semiotic forms and their speakers is an important part of creating an inclusive community, diversity without access to diverse and dominant forms of language and lite