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Working together: a case study of two primary teachers in a peer-centred curriculum implementation program MacDonnell, Carol Raye 1995

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WORKING TOGETHER: A CASE STUDY OF TWO PRIMARY TEACHERSIN A PEER-CENTRED CURRICULUM IMPLEMENTATION PROGRAMbyCAROL RAYE MacDONNELLB.A., Queen’s University, 1973M.A. in Art Education, Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, 1978A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OFTHE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OFDOCTOR OF EDUCATIONinTHE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES(Department of Curriculum Studies)We accept this thesis as conformingto the required standardTHE OF BRITISH COLUMBIAMay 1995©Carol R. MacDonnell, 1995In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanceddegree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make itfreely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensivecopying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of mydepartment or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying orpublication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my writtenpermission.(Signature)_________________________________Department of Curriculum StudiesThe University of British ColumbiaVancouver, CanadaDate__________________DE-6 (2)88)ABSTRACTThis qualitative case study of two primary teachers during their first year ofusing a new provincial art curriculum was concerned with the effect of a specialrelationship between the two teachers on their implementation efforts. Therelationship was part of an implementation strategy devised by arts consultants inthe school board office; one teacher in every school was designated a “CatalystTeacher” with a loosely defined role of acting as an on-site “cheerleader” (orcatalyst) for the implementation activities of colleagues.This use of a non-specialist member of a staff is related to peer-centredimprovement and change efforts discussed in recent literature under such terms as“peer coaching,” “cooperative professional development,” and “collaborativeconsultation.” It has been shown that a collegial approach to change efforts tends tocontribute to the successful implementation of change.Through a series of semistructured interviews with the two teachersindividually and together, and supplemented by observations of their art teachingand by interviews and informal conversations with Ministry of Education personnel,the local art consultant, and the school principal, a picture was produced of themeanings constructed by the two teachers about the new curriculum, their roles asteachers and colleagues, the place of art in their total programs, and the effect of theCatalyst Teacher Program on their own implementation efforts. At the end of theinterview series, the teachers considered their own progress with the help of Halland associates’ Levels of Use scale (1975).IILooking through the lens of a symbolic interactionist approach to studyingthis working relationship, I was able to focus on the interdependence of all theelements in the cyclical process of data gathering, sorting, coding, reflecting, andanalyzing. The qualitative causal network described by Corbett and Rossman(1989) provided a framework within which the case data could be analyzed andcompared to Corbett and Rossman’s findings.The progress of the participants in this study showed the positive effect of theimplementation strategy in use in their board. These two teachers’ special qualitiesof collegiality contributed to their early success, suggesting that conditions ofteacher empowerment and collegiality need to precede other specific change efforts.Conditions of distancing between grade-level units within the school, that may havecontributed to differences in implementation progress, point to a need to reconsiderthe wide scale of most implementation efforts.111TABLE OF CONTENTSABSTRACT iiACKNOWLEDGMENTS xiCHAPTER 1: THE RESEARCH PROBLEM 1Introduction 1Statement of the Problem 2Research Questions 3Background to the Problem 4Significance of the Study 10Definition of Terms 12Overview of the Study 14CHAPTER II: MANAGING CURRICULAR CHANGE INTHE ELEMENTARY CLASSROOM 16Introduction 16Educational Change 17Implementation Studies 19Perspectives on Implementation 20Focus on Meaning in Implementation 22Influences on Implementers 24Analytical Devices 26Innovation profiles 26Causal networks 30Levels of use 33Studies of Change in Art Education 36Change in Canadian Art Education 40Summary 43CHAPTER III: THE SOCIAL DIMENSIONS OF IMPLEMENTATION ... 45The Rise of “Collegiality” 45Peer supervision 46Peer coaching 48Cooperative professional development 51Collaborative consultation 52Peer assistance 52Conflict in Peer-Centred Implementation Efforts 54The World of the Teacher 55Isolation 56Deficit model 56Theory versus Practice 57Teacher Autonomy versus Norms of Collegiality 59ivStorytelling and scanning for ideas. 61Aid and assistance 61Sharing 62Joint work 63Teachers as Advocates 66Requirements for successful advocacy 67Summary 68CHAPTER IV: SYMBOLIC INTERACTIONISM ANDCURRICULAR CHANGE 71A Symbolic Interactionist Context for Research 71Herbert Blumer 72Hallmarks of the Symbolic Interactionist Perspective 74Focus on (inter)action 74Objects 74Role-taking, self, and joint action 75The importance of language 76Emergence 76A Symbolic Interactionist View of Curricular Change 77Generic Social Processes in CurriculumImplementation 78Acquiring perspectives 79Doing activity 81Summary 83CHAPTER V. METHOD 84Methodological Implications of Symbolic Interactionism 84Intimate Familiarity through Sympathetic Introspection .. 84Ethnographic Research in Education 85Qualitative Case Studies 88Characteristics of qualitative case study 88Case study in educational research 89“Emergence” and Grounded Theory 90Summary 91Preparation and Entry into the Field 91Project Selection 92Resistance and refusal 92A new approach 93Researcher identity 94Study Design 94Site Selection 96Gatekeepers 97Provincial 97Local 97v• 98• 99• 103• 104• 108• 108• 109• 110• 111• 112• 113• 115• 118CHAPTER VI: THE CURRICULUM AND THE CATALYSTIntroductionThe New CurriculumHistory of the New CurriculumContent of the New CurriculumCognitive focusDiscipline integrityImage of the teacherFlexibilitySpecial featuresThe Provincial Implementation StrategyThe Teacher Leader ProgramRelationship to the piloting of the curriculumContent and structure of the Teacher Leader ProgramThe binderFlexibilityAdditional supportSummaryPersonnelThe Bridgeton Implementation StrategyThe Plan’s Focus: Awareness, Inservice, ResourcesThe Bridgeton contextAwareness: PrincipalsAwareness: “Selling” the planAwareness: TeachersAwareness: The introductionInservice plansMaterials and resourcesCatalyst TeachersParticipant SelectionSite DescriptionThe ParticipantsRole of the ResearcherData CollectionOverviewInterviewsAssumptions and conditions...Semistructured interviewsLimitations of Data Collection MethodChanges in data collectionReliability and ValidityAnalysis of DataTEACHER PROGRAM 120120121121123123123124124124127127127129129130131132132136136136138139140142144145147viCheerleaders.148Recruitment and training of Catalyst Teachers.... 148Summary 149Midyear: Progress Report or Reality Check’ 150The implementation in general 150Catalyst Teachers’ progress 152Summary 154CHAPTER VII: MAKING IT WORK: THE CASE OF NANCY ANDJOHN 156Introduction: Constructs, Strategies, and Reflections 156Constructs 158Constructs: Teachers and Teaching 159Introducing Nancy Cansler: An Adventurous Pragmatist159Commitment 160Pragmatism 160Experimentation 161Introducing John Dana: “The ‘Show Me!’ Guy” 161“The best I can” 162Pragmatism 162“Show me!” 162Constructs: Curriculum 163Curriculum as Gospel 163Content 164The Role of Art in the Curriculum 165The New Curriculum and Its Implementation 167Size 167Making sense 168Sample units 168Visual resources 170The viewing process 170The implementation strategy 171The Catalyst Teacher 173A day in the life 177Strategies 177Planning Strategies 178“Fitting it in.” 178Joint planning 180Teaching Strategies 182Primary colours 182Shapes 185Ted Harrison 187The constructed environment and serendipity 189viiReflections 192Slump monthReflections on the linpiementation.Principal’s SummarySchool changesResourcesThe implementation modelTeachers’ ReflectionsNancy: level of useNancy: reflection on implementation andpressureNancy: personal practiceNancy: Catalyst TeacherJohn: level of useJohn: personal practiceSummary212212213213215217217218220221223CHAPTER IX: SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND IMPLICATIONS.Summary Review of the StudySummary of the FindingsMeaningThe curriculumNorms challengedChange in meaningConditions supporting the changeThe Working RelationshipImplementation ProgressConclusionsCurriculum is Not GospelCultural Change is Crucial and PossibleThe Scale of the Project Appears to be ImportantImplications for Practice• 192• 194• 194• 194195195198• 199203204205206208209CHAPTER VIII: ANALYSIS OF THE DATAIntroduction: The Causal NetworkEntry to the NetworkAntecedent VariablesLeverage PointsProgress Through the NetworkThe “Technical Loop”Dissonance: Into the Cultural PathOutcomes: New Norm AcceptanceThe Catalyst Teacher Program: Path InteractionComparison with Causal Network: Summary Findings..227227228228229229230231232233234235235236238viiiTeachers and Curriculum 238Teachers’ practical knowledge 238Empowerment of teachers 240Cultural Change 241Scale of Change 244Implications for Research 246REFERENCES 249APPENDIX A: LEVELS OF USE: COMPLETh CHART.. 261APPENDIX B: THE VIEWING PROCESS” IN THESASKATCHEWAN CURRICULUM. 265APPENDIX C: LEVELS OF USE: NANCY AND JOHN.. 266ixLIST OF FIGURESFigure 1: Stages of Concern.34Figure 2: Levels of Use: Summary Outline 35Figure 3: Qualitative Causal Network 211Figure 4: Causal Network Comparison 225xACKNOWLEDGMENTSI would like to thank first my advisor, Dr. Ron MacGregor, who wasresponsible for my even considering a doctoral program, who gave me friendlynudges until I did it, and kept me on track despite the long-distance nature of ourwork together. Dr. Glen Dixon and Dr. Ian Housego, my committee members,provided encouragement and valuable criticism. Dr. Elvi Whittaker was the bestmissionary ethnography could ever desire.Even here I cannot name them, but Nancy and John, Patrick, Petra, and theteachers and students at Oak Park School in Bridgeton know who they are, and Ithank them for much more than mere cooperation; I experienced real fellowship onmy visits. Colleagues at the University of Calgary are too numerous to thankindividually, but I want particularly to acknowledge the mentorship andencouragement of Dr. Helen Diemert who has been a model for me since 1981.My family are no doubt as happy as I am to reach this point. Bill andElizabeth MacDonnell spent evenings, weekends, and whole summers on their own;flowers materialized when I was discouraged, and champagne for the milestones.Elizabeth coped with milestones of her own without her mother’s constant presence,and still rewarded me with all the hugs a parent could want.Finally, the influence of two writers in my life must be acknowledged. ArchMacKinnon (1914-1973) gave me a love of writing, but told me that journalism wasno life for a girl. I found a way around that, Dad! Tom MacDonnell (1946-1991)beat me by two books, but always promoted the notion of a “family business.” Idedicate this thesis to them.xi1CHAPThR 1: THE RESEARCH PROBLEMIntroductionAutonomy, isolation, and resistance to change have long been traits ofprimary and elementary classroom teachers. Regarding their art education practice,teachers may display these traits more frequently and tenaciously than they do inother subject areas. Given the historical persistence of these traits, together theymilitate against the successful implementation of new curriculum in art when thatcurriculum is simply introduced as a document, with perhaps one optional“workshop” presented by a member of the provincial curriculum development team.Any implementation plan that actively encourages participation in new waysdeserves to be watched closely. Such a plan emerged with Saskatchewan’s newElementary Fine Arts curriculum in 1991. The Ministry of Education produced animplementation plan intended to ensure fuller participation by classroom teachers;in one urban school board, a variation on that plan was developed that appeared tohold even greater promise of success. This plan, the “Catalyst Teacher Program,”provided for at least one regular member of the staff of each school to act as acatalyst, to provide daily, on-site encouragement to colleagues and to act as liaisonbetween the staff and the consultants at the school board’s central office.The introduction of a “catalyst” into each school was based on a loose roledefinition that allowed each Catalyst Teacher to define and develop a role to fit thesituation in the specific school. Essentially, it was assumed by the consultants whodeveloped this program that the Catalyst Teacher’s typical role would be that of an2enthusiastic example to colleagues: an ordinary classroom teacher, not a specially-trained expert, who would demonstrate by her own actions that implementing thenew curriculum was manageable. Further, the Catalyst Teacher would be a point ofcontact between the teachers in the school and the consultants in the Board office,with communication travelling both ways.The main reason for the decision to have ordinary classroom teachers as thecatalysts for implementation was to avoid creating the perception that specialexpertise would be needed in order to negotiate successfully one’s way through thedocument. The Catalyst Teacher’s colleagues were expected to respond morefavourably to “one of their own” who was visibly carrying on with regular dutieswhile proceeding with curriculum implementation, and sharing ideas andinfonnation with fellow teachers.Statement of the ProblemThe problem addressed in this study was to consider in depth one contextualvariable, the “catalyst/key person” phenomenon, and to discover whether and how,particularly in light of notions about art teacher isolation and autonomy, this form of“cooperative professional development” affected progress towards fullimplementation of a new curriculum.The aim was to track one case of a working relationship between a CatalystTeacher charged with implementing a new program, and a classroom teacher withsimilar responsibilities, to discover how they worked individually and together to3translate a new art curriculum into classroom practice. Because the primary-gradeclassroom, and therefore the “delivery” of the new curriculum, is still, at leastphysically, a separate entity in most schools, the focus was on the meaning eachteacher constructed about the whole experience, and the primary research tool wasthe personal interview.Research QuestionsThe guiding questions for this research focused on three main areas:personal construction of meaning about the new curriculum, the nature of theworking relationship created by the Catalyst Teacher Program, and how these twoareas affected progress towards curricular implementation.Given a setting in which two primary generalist teachers are in the first yearof implementing a new art curriculum, one a classroom teacher and the other adesignated “Catalyst Teacher:”1. What meaning does each teacher construct about the new curriculum?a. How is this meaning acquired?b. How does this meaning relate to existing understanding about themeaning and role of art in the teacher’s approach to educating youngchildren?c. Does this meaning change during the year? How and why?42. What is the nature of the working relationship?a. What is the role of each teacher in relation to the other teacher and to thecurriculum document?b. How and by whom are these roles defined? (i.e. what aspects of the rolesare voluntary/non-voluntary, formal/informal?)3. From the perspective of each, what is the effect on the implementation process ofthe working relationship established by the two teachers?a. Does the voluntary/non-voluntary nature of aspects of the relationshipaffect the implementation process? How?b. Given the notion of art teacher autonomy, how does the workingrelationship affect the new curriculum’s possible threat to that autonomy?c. What strategies does each teacher employ within the working relationshipin such areas as planning, helping, seeking help, feedback, and evaluation?How are these strategies chosen?Background to the ProblemIn elementary education, art has traditionally been a required, but not a“core,” subject. This marginal status, with attendant low political visibility, hascreated a kind of benign neglect at the school board level, and on the part of manyelementary school principals, resulting in, for teachers, a history of autonomy withregard to their art curriculum practice. They have been free to develop art activities5in a highly individual way. Given the notions of individuality and creativity withintraditional conceptions of art, they may have felt this was a requirement.Recent developments in the province of Saskatchewan provided events and amilieu in which new ideas in art programming and implementation might be studied.In Saskatchewan, major curriculum revision has resulted in an elementary artcurriculum consisting of three equally balanced components: the creative!productive, the cultural/historical, and the critical! responsive. This broadenedconception of art education, with its shift away from the centrality of studio activity,represents a challenge to many teachers who lack sufficient background toimplement the second and third components, even though the curriculum isostensibly designed for use by both generalists and specialists. Perhaps moreimportantly, for the first time the curriculum represents a political acknowledgmentof the value of art education. This means that the content of the curriculum isexpected to be shared among teachers, and comparisons among teachers may bemade on their mastery of this material.Development of the new art curriculum in Saskatchewan began in 1981 witha report to the Minister of Education from the Minister’s Advisory Committee onthe Fine Arts in Education. In this report the case was first made for a compulsoryelementary curriculum in the fine arts, consisting of four discrete strands: art,music, drama, and dance. In each strand the three balanced components previouslymentioned were to be included. As part of a re-evaluation of all curricula in theprovince, the development process continued with Directions: The Final Report6(Minister’s Advisoiy Committee, Curriculum and Instruction, 1984), and CoreCurriculum Plans for Implementation (Saskatchewan Education, 1987a) in which ageneral curriculum mandate emerged. Arts Education became a required area oflearning in the core curriculum. “Common Essential Learnings” (or “CELs”) acrossthe curriculum were delineated, and included communication, numeracy,technological literacy, creative and critical thinking, personal and social skills andvalues, and independent learning. As well, all curricula were to include Indian andMétis content and perspectives, gender equity, resource-based teaching andlearning, and an adaptive dimension to provide for teachers to meet the needs of allstudents. Also in 1986, an Arts Education Advisoiy Committee was formed.In their draft document (Saskatchewan Education, 198Th), the ArtsEducation curriculum developers ask: “What is new about this program?” (p. 3).The following points are listed (emphasis added to indicate those points that arespecific to the arts curriculum and that go beyond the Common EssentialLearnings):• balance among the three components,• all four strands are compulsory to the end of Grade Eight (Grade Nine inthe original proposal),• developed for all students,• contains Indian, Métis and Inuit content,7• promotes a wide range of instructional strategies such as discussion,questioning, research projects, etc., in addition to performance andproduction,• focuses on problem-solving and creative and critical thinking,• entails a broad definition of “arts” (fine arts, commercial arts, popular arts,functional arts, traditional arts, mass media),• encourages use of community resources,• focuses on meaningful contexts for art lessons,• focuses on sequential learnings rather than “one-shot” activities (p.3).In the Art strand, the time allotment is 60 minutes per week. The totalweekly allotment for all four strands is 200 minutes, which is less than the originally-recommended 300 minutes, but is still substantial. The allotment of specific timesfor each strand underscores the intention to honour each fine arts discipline’sunique content:Curricula in the fine arts... [should] be designed to be parallel, ratherthan integrated, but.. .common concepts which emerge as a result ofthe curricula designing process [should] be identified and used(Minister’s Advisory Committee on Fine Arts in Education, 1981).The retention of discipline autonomy could be interpreted as leaving openthe possibility of continued teacher autonomy in making decisions about the artstrand and its implementation. A new curriculum document could be viewed as anattempt to persuade teachers of its desirability over the previous document Theteacher of elementary art, as autonomous policy maker, would consider thepersuasiveness of this document in the light of its implications for total practice, and8would make a decision. Possible choices might include: (1) to reject it; (2) toperceive a “good fit” (“I already do that”), assimilating its principles without majoralteration in practice; (3) to effect a gradual change by trying to graft the newprinciples onto current practice; or (4) to effect a radical and more or lessimmediate change. Fullan (1982, pp. 14 and 28) has looked at a similar range ofresponses and discussed their implications for the success or failure ofimplementation efforts; while Fransila (1989) describes decision-makers as fullimplementers, partial implementers, or non-implementers (p. 62).Another influence on adoption decisions at the school and classroom level inSaskatchewan is a tradition of “local power” as opposed to centralized, top-downpressure. Decisions are made locally and collaboratively: There is no history, andno guarantee, of systematic transmission.Every curriculum developed in Saskatchewan now has at least a two-yearpilot period, and an extensive revision process. During the pilot period for the FineArts curriculum, the Ministry responded to assessments from pilot teachers andconsultants by flexing the implementation timetable, and by reducing pressure onteachers to implement too many strands at once: Individual schools might choose towork on only one or two strands in the first year, and to add the others in succeedingyears. Each strand, after all, is a whole new curriculum in itself; the best advice inthe literature suggests that an absolute limit of two new curricula per year is stillasking much of teachers (Fransila, 1989, p. 163; Walters, 1987, pp. 355 - 356;Werner, 1983, p. 13).9The Ministry also developed a Teacher Leader Program (SaskatchewanEducation, 1991b) in which pilot teachers and other specially-recruited teacherswould assist in disseminating the new curriculum material; these Teacher Leaderswould be trained to deliver introductory and follow-up workshops, particularly insmaller centres and rural areas where school boards do not have arts educationconsultants, or the capability to plan their own implementation. The trainingprogram had a slight resemblance to notions within the “fidelity” model ofimplementation studies, but one of the urban boards developed its own adaptationof the Teacher Leader Program and placed at least one “Catalyst Teacher” in eachschool during the first year of board-wide implementation. This approach leanstoward the “mutual adaptation” model more recently favoured.Chapter II discusses these two approaches in more detail; a brief descriptionis useful here. The “fidelity” approach to studying curriculum implementation seeksto codify key elements of the implementation and to measure the results todetermine how faithfully the practitioners have adhered to the prescribed newcurriculum. There is an implicit assumption in this approach that the curriculumought to be delivered as presented, and that successful implementation can bemeasured by the degree to which the delivery matches the original document.The “mutual adaptation” approach suggests that every curriculum innovationmust be negotiated in some way in order for it to fit the many and varied situationsin which it must be delivered. The implicit assumption here is that the practitioners,10who best know their own situations, will indeed adapt the document to fit localneeds and circumstances.In Saskatchewan, whether intentionally or not, the flexible implementationtimetable and the introduction of Teacher Leaders/catalysts seem to reflect findingsin recent studies: that sufficient time for implementation is crucial but often notprovided; and that a “key person” (Walters, 1987) needs to be present to facilitateimplementation through what Glatthorn (1987) called “cooperative professionaldevelopment.” Indeed, this last aspect, the notion of teachers teaching teachers, isprobably the most significant feature of the new curriculum’s implementation plan.It may be the first time that a Ministiy of Education mandated the use of some formof peer-centred learning as part of an implementation strategy, at least in the arts.The new political visibility of the arts, alluded to earlier, coupled withfinancial and personnel support, is also tied to recognition of the “academic” aspectof arts education. Since the new curriculum probably formalizes curriculumdirection in Saskatchewan for the next 20 years, teachers will have to pay closeattention to it, and to the new legitimacy conferred on the subject area.Significance of the StudyThe art strand of the Saskatchewan Arts Education Curriculum, more thanbeing merely a proposed new version of art education, reflects an ideal of change inthe status of art education. The history of the development of this curriculum11indicates a strong Ministry investment in ensuring effective implementation, and thisimplies pressure on teachers to accept and to conform to the changes required.The flexibility of the Ministry’s implementation schedule indicates arecognition of that pressure; flexibility coupled with the use of a form of cooperativeprofessional development indicates possible Ministry awareness of some of thecrucial factors in successful implementation. In Directions: The Final Report, theMinister’s Advisory Committee on Curriculum and Instruction Review (1984)noted: “Too often, proposed innovations fail because little attention is paid to long-term planning for change... .Successful change projects have a number ofcharacteristics in common” (p. 54). Those characteristics were: adequate planning,high degree of involvement on the part of all participants, strong and visible supportsystem, inservice education, sufficient time, and leader models. The last twocharacteristics are especially telling in the context of this study:• Sufficient Time--most projects that result in change take three tofour years. Adequate blocks of time for training, planning, problemsolving, and attending regular meetings should be provided. Theamount of time spent by participants and consultants in interactionaround the change project influences the success of theimplementation.• Leader Models--initiators or leaders of change at all levels mustmodel the behaviours or practices they are trying to install [sic](Minister’s Advisory Committee, Curriculum and Instruction Review,1984, p. 55).Researchers are, at last, examining not only how implementation fails, butalso who implements with success. While contextual factors have now been welldocumented (especially by Fullan, 1982 and 1991), there is still sparse informationat the level of the individual teacher and classroom. This study, in documenting the12case of one pair of teachers working in an innovative implementation program, goesfrom the “who” and “why” of implementation and begins to shed light on one of thepossible “hows.” It also points to an area of conflict or tension that is beingdiscussed more frequently in the literature today: historical notions of teacherautonomy/isolation (e.g. Sarason, 1971; Lortie, 1975) confronted with emergingnorms of collegiality (Little, 1982, 1990).Definition of Terms“Art(s) ed:” This abbreviation is in common vernacular use among teachersand scholars of education in one or several of the arts; it simply means “art(s)education.” The term occurs in this document in quotations from interviews.Autonomy: A simple definition of autonomy (Hawkins, 1981) is “self-government.” As used in this study, teacher autonomy refers to the traditionalassumption that the classroom teacher in the primary and elementary grades (thatis, the teacher who teaches all subjects) has the power to make all decisions affectingthe day-to-day workings of that classroom, including curriculum content, subjectemphases, style of delivery, classroom management style, arrangement of theclassroom, mode of assessment, and timetable.CELs: The “Common Essential Learnings” developed for all new curricula inSaskatchewan quickly became known by this acronym. I have used the full titleexcept when quoting a participant.13Classroom teacher: This term is understood to refer to a teacher, usually inthe elementary grades, who has complete responsibility for the daily activities of onegroup of children. In many elementary schools, there is also some division of laboureither formally or informally, in which there may in fact be a specialist teacher forone subject, most often physical education or music, or in which teachers “trade off’classes according to individual skills and weaknesses. Nevertheless, the designation“classroom teacher” is still understood as referring to the generalist teacher in a self-contained classroom.Collegialitv: This term encompasses a variety of situations in whichcolleagues within a school, a department of a school, or a school board worktogether in order, for example, to examine, plan, and perhaps implement a model ofteaching, teaching strategy, set of materials, unit of study, or even a whole newcurriculum. Chapter III provides a full discussion of this phenomenon.Gender references: An often-used mode of presenting a gender-neutral textis to alternate the use of masculine and feminine by paragraph or some otherdivision. In a document of this size, even that is awkward. The catalyst teacher inthis study was a woman; the other teacher participant was a man. I have used thecorresponding gender in general references to the two roles as well as in specificdiscussion related to the two participants.Implementer. implementor: Having found no dictionary that uses this termin either spelling, I have chosen to use “implementer’ myself. When referring to, or14quoting directly, other writers’ use of the term, I have used their preferred spelling,hence the appearance of both in this study.School board, board: In some provinces, this term refers only to the electedboard of trustees who oversee the business of a school district or division. InSaskatchewan, “School Board” is also the official name of each geographic regionwith a number of schools attached to it under the jurisdiction of elected officials andhired administrators. Thus, “the Board” may be those elected officials, or the entirecentral office, or its employees (superintendents, inspectors, directors, consultants,and so on). In addition, people may refer to the school board by name only, as in“Bridgeton’s implementation plan.” In this study, I have retained the various usagesof the participants in transcribed conversations, but in my own writing I have usedthe formal designation of “board” when talking about situations in Saskatchewan orabout the Bridgeton board and, for brevity, have also used “Bridgeton” alone.Overview of the StudyThe first two chapters lay a historical foundation for the specific study and itssetting, and for the broad area of curriculum implementation. More specifically,Chapter II reviews the literature of curricular change, moving from a generaloverview to a discussion of research in the critical areas of art education change andcurriculum implementation studies. Chapter III reviews research focused on theindividual teacher, the emerging area of peer coaching and its many variants, andthe key issues of autonomy and collegiality. Chapter IV discusses the theoretical15perspective of symbolic interactionism, particularly as expressed by Herbert Blumer,and relates an interactionist perspective to the topic of the study. Chapter Vdescribes the research method, its development and design, its links to thetheoretical framework, and the processes involved. Chapter VI presents a detaileddescription of the implementation strategy as planned, and as it worked itself out inthe research setting, together with analysis of its key features. Chapter VIIintroduces the case of the two central participants and their experiences,individually and together, in implementing the new art curriculum. Chapter VIIIpresents an analysis of the data by charting the teachers’ experience in tenns of a“causal network” (Corbett & Rossman, 1989). Chapter IX completes the study witha summary of the findings, conclusions, and implications for the fields of curriculumimplementation and teacher development.16CHAPTER II: MANAGING CURRICULAR CHANGE INTHE ELEMENTARY CLASSROOMIntroductionWhen I began this project, I characterized it as an implementation study, andstarted my reading in the area of curriculum implementation. This is still, broadlyspeaking, an implementation study, a study of change in educational practice. But as Icontinued to read, and to focus my reading as I entered the field, the evolutionaiynature of qualitative research revealed itself in the changing emphasis of the readings.The issues of interest, a survey of which serves to situate the study within thefield, include four main themes. These, as listed below, reflect more or less thechronological and organic order in which I discovered and explored them: (1) I hadbrought an interest in change in art education with me from past experience;(2) curriculum implementation emerged as an early area of concern and will bediscussed first to create a background and setting for discussion of the other themes;(3) as I began the fieldwork, the social dimensions of implementation as presentedthrough such approaches as peer coaching, cooperative professional development, andseveral other variants became increasingly important, both as they related to effectivemeans of encouraging implementation, and as they related to (4) an emerging area ofconflict in peer-centred implementation efforts. These last two themes will be discussedin Chapter III.While each of the major themes will be treated individually, it will be evidentthat a sub-theme of emphasis on the individual teacher’s central role in implementation,17in decisions, interactions with colleagues, and classroom action, forms a threadinterwoven throughout the literature review, reflecting a growing emphasis throughoutmuch recently reported research on educational change. Another strand of that threadis an emphasis on the participants’ construction of meaning around the experience ofeducational change. This particular strand will be highlighted and discussed in moredepth in Chapter IV, as it is central to the theoretical foundations of the study.Educational ChangeMichael Fullan (1991, pp. 5-8), in a concise summary of the history of researchon educational change, describes four phases in the past thirty years: adoption in the1960s, implementation failure from 1970-1977, implementation success from 1978-1982,and intensification versus restructuring from 1983-90 (p. 5). Although the dates mayapply more directly to developments in the United States, Canada is not very different.For the time period of this study (199 1-92), the third phase is the most accuratedescriptor for the province of Saskatchewan with reference to specific curriculumreform, although a move into the “restructuring” aspect of the fourth phase is alsoevident in the overall concerns of the Ministry of Education there.A key, if not fl key, to successful change, according to Fullan’s The Meaning ofEducational Change (1982, 1991), is the importance of finding meaning in change. Inboth editions of this seminal work, Fullan points out that “the crux of change is howindividuals come to grips with [the actual experience of it]” (1982, p. 24; 1991, p. 30,emphasis added). As well, but with even more urgency in the second edition, he18stresses the interrelatedness of individual and collective actors and factors in the changescenario:The problem of meaning is one of how those involved in change can cometo understand what it is that should change and how it can be bestaccomplished, while realizing that the what and how constantly interactand reshape each other. We are not only dealing with a moving andchanging target; we are also playing this out in social settings. Solutionsmust come through the development of shared meaning (1991, p. 5).Sarason (1982 [first edition, 1971]) was one of the earliest researchers to pointout the interactive and interdependent nature of change in schools, noting that tochange one aspect, like a curriculum, requires changes in other aspects, most notably inthe behaviour of the people involved. He highlights the tic involved in curriculumchange: He discusses “behavioral and programmatic regularities” (Chapter 6) andpoints out how proposed changes represent a challenge to those regularities.Sarason prefigures more recent discussion of the autonomy! collegiality tensionwhen he exhorts researchers to look with understanding at the essentially conservativenature of teachers’ curriculum decisions, as they respond to challenges to establishedregularities. He describes the culture of the school as a creation which “antedates anyone individual and will continue in the absence of the individual” (p. 27). Further,because this culture is taken for granted, those within it have difficulty seeing,accepting, and acting on the universe of possible alternatives. Lortie (1975)characterizes the situation similarly: “The teacher ethos is conservative, individualistic,and focused on the present” (p. 212, cited in Fullan, 1991, p. 35, emphasis added).Marris (1975) acknowledges that not only risk, but also loss, anxiety, and struggleare involved in real change:19Occupational identity represents the accumulated wisdom of how tohandle the job, derived from their own experience and the experience ofall who have had the job before or share it with them. Change threatensto invalidate this experience robbing them of the skills they have learnedand confusing their purposes, upsetting the subtle rationalizations andcompensations by which they reconciled the different aspects of theirsituation (p. 16, cited in Fullan, 1991, p. 36).Fullan reminds us thatthere are some deep changes at stake, once we realize that people’s basicconceptions of education and skills are involved--that is, theiroccupational identity, their sense of competence, and their self-concept(1991, p. 40).When such fundamental issues of individual selfhood are involved, it is clear thatin examining, planning, or promoting educational change, it is essential to pay attentionto the understanding of that change by all the individuals and groups involved, and tothe context in which the change must occur.In 1982 FulIan noted that research had identified the three main phases in theprocess of educational change as adoption (or initiation or mobilization),implementation, and continuation (or institutionalization or routinization) (Fullan,1982, p. 6). The crucial one of these phases, according to Fullan, is implementation.Implementation Studies“Implementation is where the action is” (Fullan, 1991, p. 64).Implementation is of central interest because that is the stage when theinnovation is or is not put into practice, when its effectiveness moves from assumptionson paper to observable and, to some extent, measurable actions. The study ofimplementation may also focus attention on the role of the classroom teacher as the20one ultimately responsible for implementing. Studies of implementation can be looselygrouped within two main perspectives that, in their extreme form, occupy opposite endsof a continuum, each with differing views of the teacher’s role.Perspectives on ImplementationThe two main perspectives under discussion here are most often applied to anorientation toward the study of implementation, but may also be applied to anadministrative orientation toward the managing or monitoring of implementation.The first approach, the fidelity perspective (Fullan & Pomfret, 1977), issomewhat self-explanatoiy. It refers to the faithfulness with which the implementerreproduces an innovation. It is a “top-down,” administrative orientation, with theteacher as conduit (or as obstacle in cases of failure). The change is usually centrallyinitiated, presented as a tested, workable “product” (such as a provincial curriculumguide). The innovation is often demonstrated to teachers by an outside expert; masterythrough replication is assumed and expected, with neither adaptation nor deviationpermitted (Grimmett, 1987, p. 108). It is probably not appropriate to talk about a“fidelity” model in action as a way of teaching in a school or school system as a whole,but studies of the degree of implementation of a specific curricular innovation, teachingstrategy, or organizational change in the classroom or the school have reflected thisperspective (e.g. Crowther, 1972; Downey et al., 1975; Gruber, 1987; Jones, 1987).The fidelity model claims advantages in some circumstances: It utilizes theexpertise of researchers and developers rather than overloading teachers and principals;21it presents users with a tested and workable solution for broad or global problems inwhich contextual variations may not be significant; and it does recognize the need for aii.ii for implementation, and for ongoing staff development.The fidelity model, however, has largely lost favour in comparison with the othermain perspective, that of mutual adaptation or problem-solving. Critics note that thefidelity model ignores the context in which implementation must occur; it does notrespect the abilities of teachers or the existence of already well-functioning systems (theexpression “teacher-proof’ would most likely be heard in connection with fidelity-oriented proposals). As well, “global packages” are often stopgap solutions. They mayapply more to ineffective teachers who have no commitment to the change anyway;thus, their benefit is minimal (Grimmett, 1987, p. 110).More recent researchers, then, favour the perspective which has been called“mutual adaptation,” or “problem-solving” (e.g. Connelly & Ben-Peretz, 1982; Corbett &Rossman, 1989; Doyle & Ponder, 1977; Fullan & Pomfret, 1977; MacGregor, 1988;Olson, 1980). There are a number of variants within this perspective; what they have incommon includes recognition of the contextual complexities of implementation as aprocess rather than as an artifact, the differences in meaning attached to the innovationby the developers and the implementers, and the resultant variations in practice. Theemphasis is on interaction, on cooperative learning, and on application to specific,unique, local needs and situations.A blending of the fidelity and mutual adaptation perspectives is most commonlyseen. If “fidelity” can be allied with a focus on actions and behaviour, and “adaptation”22with one on understanding and intent--on meaning--then it seems that manyresearchers have agreed at least implicitly with Hall et al. (1975): “The reason theinnovation user does certain things (the why) is a reasonable question only afterthe user behaves can be systematically described and measured” (p. 53). This said, it isstill fairly clear in many studies that researchers place more weight on one side or theother of the balance, often depending on the use to which their study is intended to beput, or on whether the study is focused on, for example, administrative or classroomchange; who, in other words, the actors are.Focus on Meaning in ImplementationFullan’s 1982 call for a focus on meaning in the process of educational changereflected contemporary thought, particularly around the teacher’s construction ofmeaning. Doyle and Ponder had pointed out in 1977 that “a common and continuingproblem in implementation is the discrepancy between what a curriculum proposalmeans to its designers and what it means to teachers who are being asked to use it”(p. 74). They propose to characterize most teachers as “pragmatic skeptics” (p. 76) whobase their decisions to attempt implementation of a curriculum proposal on what Doyleand Ponder have called an “ethic of practicality... .the concept ‘practical’ is usedfrequently and consistently... .this label represents a central ingredient in the meaningteachers assign to a proposed change in classroom procedure” (1977, p. 75). The threemain criteria operating in this practicality ethic appear to be:1. instrumentality: does it work? how does it work?;232. congruence: the “fit” as the teacher sees it between the proposed change and theteacher’s daily world and way of operating. Doyle and Ponder reflect Sarason’s remarkabout the inherent jiLk in change, noting that “congruence serves a conserving functionin maintaining conventional classroom procedures.. ..The existence of a conservingattitude among teachers is understandable in view of the fact that they bear theimmediate brunt of any failure to maintain a functional school program” (p. 78);3. cost: “the ease with which a procedure can be implemented and the potential returnfor adopting an innovation” (p. 78).Referring to prevailing views of teachers as either compliant adopters orobstructionists, Doyle and Ponder suggest prophetically that “...a different perspective--one that views teacher practices during the implementation process as naturallyoccurring phenomena to be analyzed rather than as impediments to be controlled orbypassed--holds promise for research on.. .curriculum innovations” (p. 80).Olson (1980) takes issue with Doyle and Ponder’s emphasis on teachers’ seemingresistance to change and their insistence on knowing whether an innovation will work(phenomena which have, however, persisted and been discussed and explained in recentresearch on the world of the teacher. See, for example: Fullan, 1991; Lortie, 1975;Marris, 1975; Mortimore et al., 1988). Olson’s main concern is to advocate an evendeeper examination of teachers’ construction of meaning about curriculum change,rather than tracking their behaviour: “It is in relation to existing goals, techniques andsocial relationships that teachers make sense of innovative proposals” (p. 4). Further, inwhat seems an echo of Doyle and Ponder’s “congruence” criterion, Olson suggests that24“how teachers will deal with a change proposal is dependent on how.ty construe theirrole in the classroom” (p. 5, emphasis added). Olson also recognizes the element of riskin change, as he discusses the notion of the ambiguity inherent in change proposals, andthe teacher’s task in implementation as one of reducing that ambiguity.A point made by Olson found an echo in the central theme of The Meaning ofEducational Change (Fullan, 1982): “To assume that an innovation is transparentlyclear to all, is to fail to appreciate the cultural embeddedness of meaning and the extentof the difference between the cultures to which innovators and teachers usually belong”(Olson, 1980, p. 4). Fullan extends this point to include all the participants who makeup the culture of the school: teachers, principals, students, district administrators,consultants, parents and community, governments, and training institutions andprograms.Influences on ImplementersFullan notes, particularly in the first edition of The Meaning of EducationalChange (1982), the tension between the fidelity and mutual-adaptation perspectives,but clearly shows his own preference for the latter through his emphasis on the need fordeveloping shared meaning, and in his delineation of all the interrelated actors andinfluences on educational change. His list of factors affecting implementation (1982,p. 56) reflects his synthesis of the change research of the 1970s.The factors are organized into four main categories: characteristics of thechange; characteristics at the school district level; characteristics at the school level; and25characteristics external to the school system. The chart by itself is necessarily both terseand global; depending on the specific study undertaken, adjustments to, andrefinements of the chart would be needed. “Fullan’s factors” have been used in analysisof data in a number of studies since 1982; in the context of this literature review, seeWalters (1987) and Fransila (1989).Other research on teachers’ understanding of the change process focused onteachers’ reasons for curriculum decisions. Leithwood, Ross, and Montgomery (1982)explored these reasons given by teachers, with the aim “to refine knowledge about thefactors influencing teachers’ decisions within different categories and at different pointsin the decision-making process” (p. 14). The findings revealed that the major influenceson teachers’ curriculum decisions clustered in areas that could be characterized ashaving physical and/or psychological proximity to the teacher (p. 24). This notion ofproximity, plus social support, developed into a study (MacDonald & Leithwood, 1982)of the needs teachers attempt to meet through their daily practice. The findings show“an overriding need for achievement, defined in terms of assisting students to becomemore cognitively competent” (p. 47, emphasis added).Fullan discusses the notion of “teacher efficacy” in similar terms: “a belief on thepart of the teacher that he or she could help even the most difficult or unmotivatedstudents” (1982, p. 72). A sense of personal efficacy was one of the important teachercharacteristics identified by Fransila (1989) as essential for implementation. Theconcept of teachers’ sense of efficacy was identified in earlier research as “the mostpowerful teacher attribute in the Rand analysis” (McLaughlin & Marsh, 1978). The26“Rand analysis” refers to what has become known as the Rand Change Agent Study(Berman & McLaughlin, 1977, 1978a, 1978b), a major and influential American studyof federally funded programs encouraging and supporting educational change. Thedata collected in this study have formed a base on which many more recent writers havebuilt. A brief list of issues that have emerged from the findings of the Rand studyincludes: New approaches to staff development; collaborative planning; attention tothe role of the teacher and to differences among teachers such as years of experience;and perhaps most importantly, some of the earliest thinking about implementation as aprocess.Analytical DevicesIn order to examine the process of implementation in a variety of ways thatwould reveal detailed information from different points of view, researchers developedtools to assist them in understanding, describing, and analyzing the facets of thisprocess. Three such devices are of interest in the context of this study: (1) Leithwood’sresearch on teacher decisions and curriculum dimensions led to a tool which could aidin both analyzing and planning for curriculum change; (2) Corbett and Rossmandescribed a device that could help to explain the phases of the implementation processin a school; and (3) Hall and associates proposed stages of concern and of action inindividual teachers’ approaches to curriculum innovation.Innovation profiles. Studies by Leithwood and associates (Leithwood, Ross, &Montgomery, 1982; MacDonald & Leithwood, 1982) begin to shed light on specific27influences on individual teachers’ curriculum decisions, and on underlying reasons forthe persuasiveness of those influences, as reported by the teachers themselves. A majorbody of work by Leithwood and his associates uses this knowledge of curriculumdimensions and of teachers’ need for achievement in terms of student outcomes topropose and test a strategy for planning the implementation of curriculum innovations.Leithwood notes (1982b) that an important precondition for the strategy is a situationin which the ff has identified a problem to be solved, and has agreed on theinstrument with which to solve it (e.g. a curriculum guide). This precondition wouldalso seem to provide for some kind of shared meaning. But the strategy is highly task-and behaviour-oriented: The staff members engage in a series of diagnostic,application, and evaluation tasks (Leithwood, 1982b, p. 256), all aimed at “reducing thedifferences between existing practices and practices suggested by the innovation”(p. 253). Leithwood’s definition of implementation is “a process of behavioral change,in directions suggested by the innovation, occurring in stages, over time, if obstacles tosuch growth are overcome” (p. 254, emphasis added).The first task in the strategy, identifying the goals to be accomplished byimplementing the innovation, involves describing both long- and short-term goals foreach curriculum dimension, in terms of stages from non-implementation to fullimplementation. Leithwood calls the result of this task an “Innovation Profile” (p. 257).The value of developing this Innovation Profile is that it breaks the growth toward fullimplementation into more manageable “chunks,” and clearly identifies the highest levelof aspiration. As well, says Leithwood,28Because these steps or stages are described in terms of teacher behavior,they are frequently a more useful indication to the teacher of theintentions of the innovation than the original description of theinnovation. They indicate what it means operationally to implement...the.. .guideline; they translate general descriptions of the ideal classroominto descriptions of specific teacher actions--a significant aid toimplementation (p. 257).While this approach would seem to address teachers’ need for achievement byproviding clear, concrete steps to follow towards successful implementation, the methodof arriving at those steps is quite laborious for all staff members; as well, some level ofexpertise is required of someone in a leadership position to assist in devisingappropriate or legitimate stages of implementation. Fullan (1991) observes:Many people have responded to the research of the 1970s, whichdocumented implementation problems, by developing elaborateimplementation plans designed to take into account factors known toaffect success. Designed to help, but actually adding insult to injury,complex implementation plans themselves become another source ofconfusion and burden on those carrying out change (p. 97, emphasisadded).In a later publication, Leithwood (1986) responds to criticism of the InnovationProfile approach, indicating that it has been likened in a negative way to the fidelityperspective. Certainly, by his own description of the fidelity perspective, this approachj most like it. Leithwood characterizes fidelity as rational and systematic (p. 99); itleaves no room for variation in response to contextual differences. The emphasis is onbehavioral change, not on meaning.Not only is the concern expressed by Fullan, Olson, and others for meaning notclearly addressed in this approach, the teacher is not really trusted to understand his orher own practice. “Implementors are encouraged that full implementation will29solve the problem” (Leithwood, 1986, p. 99). Leithwood argues, first, that assumptionsthat his approach has adopted the fidelity perspective are wrong (p. 99), but then statesthat “most of the procedures described in earlier chapters are designed to produceconditions more like those associated with a fidelity orientation...” (p. 101). In a laterpublication, Leithwood and Montgomeiy (1987) refer to “the ‘fidelity’ approach (ofwhich Innovation Profiles form a part)” (p. 15).To be fair, Leithwood also cautions that this extreme polarization betweenimplementation orientations is artificial and that, in reality, some selection from amongalternatives, based on the specific situation, is more natural. He is, perhaps, trying toensure a place for the developers of curriculum change proposals:Development and use of Innovation Profiles is based on the view thatadaptation is an important part of implementation.... However, if thisadaptive process is undisciplined, the chances of losing the essentialcontributions of the researcher or developer are high (Leithwood &Montgomery, 1987, p. 16).The language still has a hierarchical flavour, added to when Leithwood says theInnovation Profiles “are viewed by us as instruments which allow for relativelysophisticated expressions of an adaptation orientation to implementation” (p. 16). Thereader is left with the suspicion that teachers left to their own devices would bejjdisciplined and isophisticated in their implementation decisions and actions.Perhaps the best way to regard this body of research is to disregard Leithwood’ssuggestion that individual teachers could, in fact, adapt the process for their own useand self-assessment, and to take it for what it is primarily intended: an administrativetool. Then, in certain situations where the preconditions of problem identification and30a modus operandi are met, and supported by case study reports (Leithwood &Montgomery, 1987), the Innovation Profile process and approach has value in planningand assessing implementation progress.Causal networks. Innovation Profiles are a useful tool for prescribing the stagesof progress of a group through the implementation of a specific innovation. Anotherdevice, examined by Corbett and Rossman (1989), provides a way of mapping ordocumenting implementation practice within a school or other bounded group. Datacollected through interviews and observation were organized into a “qualitative causalnetwork” (p. 171; see Figure 3) to create a composite picture of individual teachers’paths through the implementation process. Corbett and Rossman stress that thisnetwork “is not intended to be a predictive tool; it is a sense-making device--an attemptto summarize complex situations coherently. Its use is intended to suggest rather thanto conclude, and to stimulate comparisons rather than empirical tests” (p. 164).The paths in the network “are comprised of change-related events, schoolcontextual conditions, attitudinal stances on the part of participants, and staff actionsthat impinged on whether the fanfare of a new initiative ended in success” (p. 169).Three distinct paths, identified from earlier literature, are described in the network,although they were observed in the study to be interrelated: the technical, the political,and the cultural. As well, the elements in the network were categorized temporally asantecedent conditions, intervening or process variables, and outcomes.31Briefly, the three paths or perspectives are:1. Technical: This perspective advises the anticipation and overcoming ofimplementation problems through systematic planning: carefully designed innovations,a more rational approach to the change process, and better technical assistance.2. Political: The focus here is on the vested interests of different participants in thechange process, on the balance of power and on the incentives available.3. Cultural: This perspective “stresses socially shared and transmitted definitions ofwhat is and what ought to be.. .and the symbolic meanings practitioners, students, andthe community attach to change efforts” (p. 165).This causal network provides a good example of a blend of implementationapproaches: the technical path strongly resembles the “fidelity” perspective, and thepolitical and cultural paths resemble aspects of the “adaptation” approach. Neitherbehaviour, intention nor understanding is isolated; all have a part to play in creating atotal picture.One of the interesting findings of Corbett and Rossman’s study was that almostevery teacher, regardless of the path by which the process was entered, moved througha “loop” in the technical path consisting of three elements or events:[1] receiving information about new practices and encouragement to trythem out, [2] having opportunities to do so and to become more adept atthem, and [3] making judgments about how well the new practices fitparticular classrooms and teaching styles (p. 172).This passage through the “technical loop” bears some resemblance to Leithwood’snotion of breaking the process of implementation into manageable chunks: The32teacher can return to the ioop for further information or encouragement, and furthertrial and skill development, until the desired level of implementation is reached.Overall, Corbett and Rossman’s study reinforces the need to recognize thecomplexity of the school culture, and stresses what has become apparent: that“implementation is greater in social, supportive settings than in isolated environments”(p. 188). As well, the study points out that maintaining implementation is highlydependent on successful change within the cultural path, the path in which beliefs andattitudes lie, where the meaning of the change is most important. This agrees withFullan: “Significant educational change consists of changes in beliefs, teaching style, andmaterials which can only come about. ..through a process of personal development in a[social] context”(1982, p. 121; 1991, p. 131). Corbett and Rossman conclude by inviting“cumulative comparisons of the process” (1989, p. 188).Corbett and Rossman’s network permits the mapping of individual teachers’implementation behaviour in order to create a composite picture. But, by itself, this isstill not a tool for describing the understanding as well as the actions of individualteachers. Assuming that the decision to implement has been taken (or imposed), jpdoes a classroom teacher make sense of a change proposal in order to incorporate itinto practice? How can a researcher find out what the teacher’s experience is like?Observation will reveal actions; interviews will help to discover intentions which canhelp to reveal meaning. Is there, in Corbett and Rossman’s words, a “sense-makingdevice” to be used by an interviewer?33Levels of use. A possible answer can be found in the work of Hall, Loucks, andassociates at the Research and Development Center for Teacher Education, TheUniversity of Texas at Austin (e.g. Hall, Loucks, Rutherford, & Newlove, 1975; Hall &Loucks, 1977; Loucks & Pratt, 1979). This research team developed and tested animplementation model that responded to individual teachers’ concerns and alsodocumented their actions in stages of implementation growth. The Concerns-BasedAdoption Model (CBAM) is founded on four major assumptions about change:1. Change is a process, not an event.2. Change is accomplished by individuals, not institutions.3. Change is a highly personal experience.4. Change entails developmental growth in both feelings about and skillsin using new programs (Loucks & Pratt, 1979, p. 213).The model reveals six stages of concern through which implementers pass (seeFigure 1).While expressions of concern reveal feelings, and indications of meaning, aboutnew programs, another dimension of the CBAM documents actions: the Levels of Use(LoU) scale (Hall et al., 1975, pp. 54-55). Eight levels of activity, described in termssimilar to those describing the levels of concern, are postulated, ranging from “lack ofknowing that the innovation exists to an active, sophisticated and highly effective use ofit and, further, to active searching for a superseding innovation” (p. 52; see Figure 2and Appendix A). Each level is considered in relation to seven categories of activity.The developers state clearly that the LoU dimensiondoes not at all focus on attitudinal, motivational, or other affectiveaspects of the user. The dimension does not attempt to explain causality[it] is an attempt to define operationally various states of innovationuser behavior (p. 52).34Figure 1: Stages of Concern:Typical Expressions of Concern About the InnovationStages of Concern Expressions of Concern6 Refocusing I have some ideas about something that wouldwork even better.5 Collaboration I am concerned about relating what I am doing withwhat other teachers are doing.4 Consequence How is my use affecting students?3 Management I seem to be spending all my time getting materialready.2 Personal How will using it affect me?1 Informational I would like to know more about it.O Awareness I am not concerned about it (the innovation).(Loucks & Pratt, 1979, p. 214)The affective, meaning-oriented aspects rest with the “concerns” dimension of themodel.As a self-reporting tool, or as one used during an interview in a combination ofself-report and interviewer observations, the LoU scale shows promise. The detail andspecificity with which each category of behaviour, at each level, is described helps anindividual to self-locate with considerable confidence; “decision points” between eachlevel also help to clarify progress. While the descriptions in the scale refer to actions,the interview during which the scale is used permits amplification and discussion at eachpoint, thus potentially revealing the underlying meaning of practice, for the individualas well as for the researcher.35Figure 2: Levels of Use: Summary OutlineCATEGORIES: Knowledge, Acquiring Information, Sharing, Assessing, Planning,Status Reporting, and PerformingLEVELS:0: NON-USE: State in which the user has little or no knowledge ofthe innovation, no involvement with the innovation, and is doingnothing toward becoming involved.I: ORIENTATION: User has acquired/is acquiring information about theinnovation and/or has explored/is exploring its value orientationand its demands upon user and user system.II: PREPARATION: User is preparing for first use of the innovation.III: MECHANICAL USE: User focuses most effort on short-term, day-today use with little time for reflection. Changes in use are mademore to meet user needs than client needs. The user is primarilyengaged in a stepwise attempt to master the tasks required to usethe innovation, often resulting in disjointed and superficial use.IVA: ROUTINE: Use of the innovation is stabilized. Few if any changesare being made in ongoing use. Little preparation or thought isbeing given to improving innovation use or its consequences.IVB: REFINEMENT: User varies the use of the innovation to increase theimpact on clients within immediate sphere of influence.Variations are based on knowledge of both short- and long-termconsequences for clients.V: INTEGRATION: User is combining own efforts to use the innovationwith related activities of colleagues to achieve a collective impacton clients within their common sphere of influence.VI: RENEWAL: User re-evaluates the quality of use of the innovation,seeks major modifications of or alternatives to present innovationto achieve increased impact on clients, examines newdevelopments in the field, and explores new goals for self and thesystem.(Hall, Loucks, Rutherford, & Newlove, 1975, pp. 54-55).While some researchers view self-reporting with doubt because of a fearof biased information (e.g. Leithwood & Montgomery, 1987, p. 19), others accord itsome importance:36The individual innovation user. ..serves as the primary unit of analysissince experience has demonstrated that asking more remote sources...about the use or nonuse of an innovation by their faculty is highlyprecarious... .The only way to know for sure whether and how aninnovation is being used is to assess each individual’s use directly (Hall &Loucks, 1977, p. 265).Fear of biased information from the self-report is countered by Little’s (1982) proposalthat the teacher’s self-reporting talk “constitutes one check on the limitations, or biases,introduced by researchers’ own perspectives” (p. 328, emphasis added).The researcher’s perspective is at the heart of this argument, not only as apossible source of bias, but also as an indicator of the intent of the research. If theintent is to understand the teachers’ point of view, then teachers’ self-reports are amajor and trusted source of information. As May (1989) says,If one perceives teachers as both capable of and interested in theconstruction of knowledge, then curricular reform should emerge fromand acknowledge teachers’ expertise, experience, and workplaceconstraints. However, if one perceives teachers as reproducers ofknowledge who primarily are to apply academe’s theories to practice asfaithfully as possible, then the teacher is seen to have little expertise in areform effort... .The teacher is perceived as both obstacle and conduit toknowledge construction in the classroom (p. 143).Studies of Change in Art EducationThe literature of art education has, since the mid-1960s, recognized andadvocated an art curriculum which attends to the elements of studio production, arthistory, art criticism, and more recently aesthetics. Much of the practice of arteducation, however, especially at the elementary level, has reflected the dominance ofthe child-centred approach of the 1950s, with an exclusive emphasis on studio activities.37Discussion of change in art education during the 1970s and 1980s was largelyrestricted to: (1) discussion of the factors contributing to the widespread resistance tochange on the part of practitioners (e.g. Chapman, 1982; Eisner, 1979; Rafferty, 1987),and (2) continued proposals for versions of a broader three- or four-part curriculum(e.g. Feldman, 1970; Getty Center for Education in the Arts, 1985, 1987; Greer, 1984;Lanier, 1981; McFee & Degge, 1977).There is still a lack of published research that responds to the call of Fullan andothers for single-case descriptive studies that can enrich our understanding of howteachers cope with change in curricula. A survey of 179 articles in Studies in ArtEducation and the Canadian Review of Art Education between 1983 and 1994 revealed20 articles that dealt with a broad area of curricular change, teaching strategies, teacherpreparation, and the world of the teacher. Of these, only one article (Alexander, 1983)presented an educational criticism of a single teacher. This was not, however, a study ofhow a teacher coped with change.MacGregor (1993) proposes a new view of change for the 1990s, reflecting asense that the kinds of change to be faced today are “catastrophic. The rules all of asudden change” (p. 55) and our ways of responding must be correspondingly different,must be reinvented, perhaps. MacGregor suggests looking to business for a way ofrestructuring education to create a more horizontal form of governance that wouldallow for greater ownership of knowledge and expertise at different levels, and thatwould seem to have the potential to empower both teachers and students.38As described by MacGregor, the “shamrock model” of Charles Handy (1989),with its three-lobed organization of different levels with specific expertise and tasks,uses terms such as colleagues, partners, horizontal control, flexible (MacGregor, 1993,pp.55-56):Notions of units and structures and input/output have been replaced byperceptions of organizations as cultures, with groups and teams heldtogether in networks designed to particular purposes, and accommodativeof several agendas (MacGregor, 1993, p. 56).“Cultures” and “networks” sound promising, in light of the literature of change ingeneral education discussed in the previous section. Utilizing contemporary technologysuch as E-Mail and faxes, says MacGregor, means that more teachers can be involved(with less expense in time and money) in such enterprises as curriculum development(p. 58). Ownership and empowerment seem to be clear benefits from suchorganizational change, two concepts that are certainly timely, as the next chapter willdiscuss.But in the field of art education, as in any other subject field, it is important totemper optimism with caution in the face of change proposals that promise great futurebenefits in interactive participation. The world of teachers today has constraints thatmust be taken into consideration, constraints that are at the root of the welldocumented resistance to change by teachers of art (e.g. Chapman, 1982; Rafferty,1987; Taylor, 1986).May (1989) points out that three of those constraints are exacerbated by aclimate in which “public debate has focused on achievement in the ‘basics’ and global39economic and educational competition with little concern for the arts” (p. 145); she goeson to say thatan appeal to curriculum reform in the arts seems weak if it does notaddress the low status, morale, and recognition of teachers in general orthe fringe status of art teachers [and, by extrapolation, art as a subject] inparticular (p. 146).Fransila (1989), in reviewing the literature on resistance to change in arteducation, finds four major contributing factors:1. The traditional low priority given to art in school programs(pp. 38-39).2. A historical lack of agreement about the aims of school art. Rationales forart in education have been numerous and varied, often opportunistic, andhave had little impact (pp. 39-41).3. The child-centred, process-over-product orientation which has provedstrongly resistant to subject-centred advocacy (pp. 4 1-42).4. Day-to-day realities within the school context, such as classroomdisruptions, make it difficult to implement change; “theliterature.. .suggests that elementary school art programs are subjected toa disproportionate share because of the low status given to elementaryschool art” (pp. 43-44).Walters (1987), in presenting problems unique to art curriculumimplementation, cites three of the four factors identified by Fransila: low status of artin education, need for a clear philosophy within the discipline, and attitudes whichpermit disruptions (p. 29). “Disruptions,” it may be useful to note, does not refer merelyto momentary interruptions in classroom routine, but rather to such events as thesudden request to cancel art classes for another event, rather than cancelling classes in,for example, so-called “core” subjects.May (1989) adds another factor that contributes to resistance to change in arteducation: the issue of “control.” This seems on the surface to be an unusual concern40for art teachers, but May is speaking particularly about art specialists who must concernthemselves with classroom management as much as with student interest:Thus, reform proposals may not be warmly accepted by art teachers whenthese recommend eloquent instructional discourse, less art production(with the potential for student anarchy or disinterest because they are notmaking art objects), formal testing and evaluation, or cooperative small-group activities (p. 148).Change in Canadian Art EducationTwo recent dissertations by Canadian researchers (Walters, 1987; Fransila,1989) have answered the call for case studies examining the factors influencingimplementation, looking specifically at elementary art education. Both studies weredesigned to examine the process of implementation engaged in by a number ofgeneralist teachers; both used Fullan’s (1982, Chapter 5) list of factors influencingimplementation as a framework for analysis of data.Walters’s study sought to describe the process of implementation of a newprovincial elementary art curriculum in Manitoba, in three sites, each of which used adifferent approach to implementation, and to discover how Fullan’s factors actuallyinfluenced the implementation for the 18 teachers involved. She found that, indeed, allof Fullan’s factors were operative, but that there were also other factors which wereunique to art education:1. The art background and experience of elementaiy teachers. In most Canadianprovinces, there are few, if any, specialists teaching elementary art. The uniqueness ofthis situation lies in the fact that41most [elementary teachers] had no art experience beyond elementaryschool. Most elementary teachers have at least some high schoolexperience in other subjects they teach (Walters, 1987, p. 365).2. The attitudes ofeducators and the community to the arts. A predominant attitude isfear or discomfort; attitudes are revealed in such elements as timetabling: Art is “justnot a priority in their busy schedules...” (p. 368). This anticipates similar findings inboth May and Fransila’s work, two years later.3. The type and nature of inservice andprofessional developmentfor art implementation.Walters discusses inservice needs that are unique to art education: a need for concrete,practical activities; for workshops that are ongoing and developmental, and thatcontribute to teachers’ personal development in art. As well, a way needs to be foundto incorporate theoretical or philosophical approaches, to which teachers, however, areresistant (pp. 369-371).4. The role and characteristics of individuals responsible for art implementation. “It doesnot appear that it is necessary to have a ‘key person’ initiate implementation inmathematics or language arts when a new curriculum is introduced. It does appear tobe necessary if anything is to happen in art curriculum implementation... .The presenceof some person who acts as a catalyst appears to be essential” (p. 374).5. The evaluation and monitoring of art implementation. The historic autonomy of theart teacher surfaces here; in the whole field of curriculum, the evaluation andmonitoring of implementation has been generally neglected, but it seems to be totallyavoided in art implementation (p. 376).42The findings in Walters’s study corroborate Fullan’s discussion of influences onimplementation and make them more specifically applicable to art curriculumimplementation. Further, the study can inform other research on h individualteachers cope with all these factors. In particular, the finding about “key persons” hasrelevance in the context of the present study to the use of Teacher Leaders and CatalystTeachers as an implementation strategy in Saskatchewan. It is also worth pointing outthat, since Walters conducted her research, literature on peer coaching and its variantshas focused on a similar need in all areas of curriculum implementation.Fransila (1989) studied the first year of implementation of a new provincialelementaiy art curriculum in one school, with 15 teachers. The study was limited to the“fidelity” definition of implementation, and identified implemented by measuringthe extent of implementation with the aid of Hall and associates’ “Levels of Use” chart(1975). While Fransila’s study does not add to knowledge about specific strategiesemployed by teachers in the implementation process, it does contribute usefulinfonnation about three characteristics of teachers most likely to be successfulimplementers:1. Philosophical stance regarding the importance ofart education. Logically enough, thesmaller the gap between the teacher’s perception of the role and importance of arteducation and that of the new curriculum, the more likely it will be that the teacher willimplement.2. Personal sense of efficacy. “Teachers with a high level of efficacy shared a sense of thepossible and a belief that they can make the implementation work” (p. 150).433. Synergy among implementing teachers. This relates to Fullan’s discussion of the socialnature of change. This is perhaps as much a “school culture” characteristic as it is acharacteristic of individual teachers, because it relates to whether teachers act in acollegial manner as a matter of course. This finding can also be linked to Walters’s “keyperson” factor: Fransila discusses the need for further studies “that probe into thematter of how and why.. .synergy and efficacy can be promoted” (p. 162). Perhaps theTeacher Leader, or Catalyst Teacher, as key person, is someone who can promote thesecharacteristics.Both Walters’s and Fransila’s studies, then, shed further light on the “who” and“why” of implementation. It remains to look even more specifically at individual casesfor the “how,” to examine the beliefs and meanings behind the actions and choices andto build a rich base of detailed information.SummaryThe literature reviewed in this chapter serves as the broad end of a funnel,introducing the general areas of curriculum implementation studies and of studies ofchange in art education. Curriculum implementation as a field within educationalchange is now mature enough to merit considerable space in a solid secondary source(Fullan, 1991) that synthesizes the historical and contemporary issues.In the artificially-polarized conception of two major approaches toimplementation, “fidelity” and “mutual adaptation,” the clear favourite in most recentliterature would be the latter, with its greater recognition of (1) the social context in44which implementation takes place, and (2) the assumption that teachers asknowledgeable professionals have the ability to adapt curricular innovations to fit theirparticular situations (e.g. Corbett & Rossman, 1989; Doyle & Ponder, 1977; Fullan,1982, 1991; FulIan & Pomfret, 1977; Hall et al., 1975; Loucks & Pratt, 1979; Olson,1980; Sarason, 1971).Research in art education has not yet answered the call for a rich descriptivedata base on teachers’ construction of meaning in implementation, although recentdissertations (e.g. Fransila, 1989; Walters, 1987) have provided an initial contribution.There is much room for research that probes the realities of the individual artclassroom and of the ways in which teachers of art construe their activity.The literature yields a variety of useful devices for predicting, monitoring, andanalyzing the actions of implementers. Two of these, the “causal network” as describedby Corbett and Rossman (1989) and the Levels of Use scale (Hall et al., 1975) provideframeworks and the opportunity to merge interviews with the analysis of observableactions, to link a revelation of personally constructed meaning to the observed orreported behaviour of the teacher participants during the implementation process.45CHAPTER III: THE SOCIAL DIMENSIONS OF IMPLEMENTATIONThe classroom teacher is recognized as the ultimate actor in educationalchange, such as curriculum implementation. However, no matter howindependently teachers may act in the classroom, they are each still situated withincomplex social networks that affect and are affected by their decisions. Sarasontalked about “the culture of the school” in 1971; in 1974 House introduced his bookon educational innovation with a chapter discussing what he saw as “a basic elementof educational change”--”the primacy of personal contact” (p. 6). In 1991, Fullanechoed and stressed the same concern for attention to the social nature of change:In the final analysis it is the actions of the individual that count Sinceinteraction with others influences what one does, relationships withother teachers is a critical variable... .Change involves learning to dosomething new, and interaction is the primary basis for sociallearning....The quality of working relationships among teachers isstrongly related to implementation (Fullan, 1991, p. 77, emphasisadded).Working relationships among teachers, their variety, quality, and effect, have comeunder increased scrutiny in recent years. This chapter examines the nature of someof these working relationships.The Rise of “Collegialitv”The term “collegiality” has appeared frequently in the literature ofsupervision, teacher development and school improvement since the mid-1980s, aswriters have examined and promoted peer-centred approaches to these areas of46educational research. Under “collegiality” are grouped terms referring to anysituations in which colleagues work together to plan, reflect on, or improve theirpractice. The range of working relationships that could be subsumed under“collegiality” includes, but is not restricted to:• peer supervision• peer coaching• cooperative professional development• collaborative consultation• peer assistanceA discussion of these terms will provide a brief history of the growth of peer-centredteacher activity, and a foundation from which to consider how these approachesmight be applied to current real-life issues.Peer supervision. In the late 1970s, peer supervision emerged in response toproblems and change initiatives in the world of traditional supervision. Theproblems were, in part, inherent in the nature of supervision as it was practised, andthey contributed to negative outcomes in relation to the ultimate goal ofsupervision: successful, effective, and ever-improving schools. Specifically, two ofthe problems were: (1) the obvious power imbalance between supervisory personneland teachers; (2) the fact that supervision and evaluation seemed to be inextricablylinked, and that assessment would often be based on a single “inspection tour” visit.The aims and the potential of supervision were not being consistently met.The characteristics of clinical supervision in its ideal form, as described byGoldsberry (1984a) seem to contain the seeds of subsequent initiatives in havingteachers work together for improvement or innovation:47Clinical supervision is more than a mechanical sequence ofobservations and conferences. Five characteristics are both crucial tothe concept and often overlooked: (1) relationship to teacher’s goals,(2) cyclical nature, (3) a data-based foundation, (4) jointinterpretation, and (5) hypothesis generation and testing (1984a,p. 13).These characteristics, and the fact that they were often overlooked, reveal anotherproblem for supervisors: a great deal of time is required to become properlyfamiliar with the goals of individual teachers, and to carry out repeat visits andfollow-up conferences. There was also a concern to separate supervision fromevaluation, to see supervision as truly a means of supporting and encouraging, offostering thinking about teaching in order to develop better ways of doing it.Peer supervision provided a solution: The power imbalance between theobserver and the person observed would be removed; teachers in the same schoolalready had more time to spend together and had, at least in theory, a betteropportunity of learning about each other’s needs and goals. Training teachers to“supervise” each other still required an investment of time, but it was time thatwould, it was hoped, also give teachers a sense of ownership of the process.Perhaps because of its origins in a supervisor-teacher relationship, peersupervision retains some of its hierarchical connotations. As Glatthorn (1987)notes, even the term “seems self-contradictory: peer suggests equals; supervisionconnotes superiority” (p. 33). While in the ideal form discussed by Goldsberryclinical supervision is non-judgmental and collegial and collaborative, the methodsand the possible relationship in some schools to old-style “supervision-by-inspection”(1984a, p. 14) can still imply a less-than-equal relationship between observer and48observed. But almost concurrently with peer supervision, a number of thoughtfuladaptations were generated, retaining the ideals but seeking to make collegialitymore workable.Peer coaching. In 1980, Joyce and Showers talked about a multi-componentapproach to inservice training that included ‘coaching for application” (1980,p. 380). A particular concern in their conceptualization was transfer of training, andthey were recommending the addition of coaching to an already-tested repertoire of:1. Presentation of theory or description of skill or strategy;2. Modeling or demonstration of skills or models of teaching;3. Practice in simulated and classroom settings;4. Structured and open-ended feedback (provision of informationabout performance) (1980, p. 380).This approach, in its initial conception, seems tailored to the introduction ofnew strategies and programs rather than to teacher-generated concerns forimprovement. It is similar to the Goldsberry (1984a) description of clinicalsupervision in three respects: cyclical nature, basis in observation and description,and joint interpretation. Two of the most important points that Joyce and Showersmade about peer coaching were, first, that consolidation and application of newstrategies needed “companionship; especially companionship with peers” (Brandt,1987, p. 12); and second, the stress on time to practise a new skill or approach untilit has become part of a personal repertoire and before it is evaluated:We understand and argue for children’s needs to acquire componentskills of complex behaviors and, through practice, successiveapproximations of expert performance....Likewise, we argue fordevelopment time for teachers in safe environments separate fromevaluation as it is usually carried out (Showers, 1985, p. 46).49Joyce and Showers advise that one of the most difficult parts of a trainingprogram may be helping teachers to understand that “even with the strongesttraining, there is a period of discomfort when using any new skill” (Joyce & Showers,1982, p. 6). They draw a parallel with athletic coaching and conclude thecomparison thus:Perhaps the most striking difference in training athletes and teachersis their initial assumptions. Athletes do not believe mastery will beachieved quickly or easily. They understand that enormous effortresults in small increments of change. We, on the other hand, haveoften behaved as though teaching skills were so easily acquired that asimple presentation, one-day workshop, or single videotapeddemonstration were sufficient to ensure successful classroomperformance (1982, p. 8).Another important difference between athletic coaching and the peercoaching described by Joyce and Showers is that athletic coaching is a peeractivity. Joyce and Showers’s notion of coaching j a peer activity, conducted inteams, intended for the development of continuous, long-term improvement:“supervisors and principals can coach effectively... [but] the logistics.. .favor peercoaches, and teams can be built and learn the skills during training” (Showers, 1985,p. 45). Since everyone is a coach, training for coaching occurs simultaneously withtraining for the new skill or approach.While administrators ought perhaps to distance themselves from thecoaching relationship itself, leadership of the principal is crucial, for “prioritysetting, resource allocation, and logistics on the one hand and substantive and socialleadership on the other” (Showers, 1985, p. 47). Garmston (1987) suggests that thefirst step toward effective support of peer coaching by a principal is the choice of a50coaching model; he proposes three varieties of peer coaching: technical, collegial,and challenge coaching.As their labels partly suggest, these three variants are presented in asequence leading towards greater initiative on the part of teachers, with technicalcoaching being closest to Joyce and Showers’s original conception of peer coaching:skill-oriented, and with evaluative overtones because of elements like therecommended use of clinical assessment forms (Garmston, 1987, pp. 19-20).Collegial coaching introduces a focus on the observed teacher’s priorities, needs,and initiative, with “suspension of judgment...[which] helps teachers to establishopen professional interchange more quickly” (Gannston, 1987, p. 20). Challengecoaching tends to grow out of (and therefore requires some experience in) one ofthe other two models; it “helps [small] teams of teachers resolve persistent problemsin instructional design or delivery” (p. 21). This model has the greatest potential forteacher ownership of the process, “the key to teacher satisfaction and learning andto program success” (Garmston, 1987, p. 25).By the late 1980s, teacher groups across North America were developingtheir own versions of peer coaching, such as “colleague consultation” (Goldsberry,1986, cited in Glatthorn, 1987), ‘collegial support groups” (Paquette, 1987), or “PeerSharing and Caring” (Raney and Robbins, 1989). The focus in these developmentshas been on concepts such as support, degree of teacher ownership, sharing, and51celebrating, all of which reflect an equality of status among the participants, agreater degree of teacher initiation of projects, and a safe and trusting environment.Cooperative professional development. Allan Glatthorn (1987) proposedthis term to embrace the numerous emerging forms of peer interaction in the areasof school improvement and innovation implementation. His conceptualization ofthe term is sufficiently broad to cover many variations:Cooperative professional development is a process by which smallteams of teachers work together, using a variety of methods andstructures, for their own professional growth. Small teams of two tosix seem to work best. The definitive characteristic is cooperationamong peers; the methods and structures vary (p. 31).Cooperation among peers may occur in at least five ways (Glatthorn, 1987, p. 32)including peer supervision and peer coaching. Glatthorn recommends that theapproach (or combination of approaches) be selected according to the advantagesoffered to the team. One approach, professional dialogue, is most different fromthe other four in that it focuses on cognition over skill and is not necessarily action-oriented.The fifth approach, curriculum development, as characterized by Glatthorn,is of interest in the context of this study. Glatthorn defines curriculum developmentas “a cooperative enterprise among teachers by which they modify the districtcurriculum guide” (1987, p. 32). Aspects of the “curriculum development” approachare evident in the Catalyst Teacher strategy, and the particular case observed in thisstudy. The new curriculum guide imposed by the provincial Ministry of Education isstudied and then operationalized, adapted and enriched by teachers. When they52work together to do this, teachers “increase.. .cohesiveness, share ideas aboutteaching and learning, and [produce] useful products” (Glatthorn, 1987, P. 32-33).Collaborative consultation. At the theory and research level, educators arepondering ways to refine and to focus the characterization of peer-orientedapproaches to teacher supervision and development Pat Crehan, a member of theFaculty of Education, University of British Columbia is developing aconceptualization of “collaborative consultation” which, in its emergent state, seemsto combine the best of the more skill-oriented approaches with aspects of reflectivepractice in an approach that accords almost total ownership of the process to theteacher seeking the change.The defining characteristics of “collaborative consultation” include a focus onthe observed teacher’s needs and priorities, reciprocity between the two teachers ina consulting team, and an insistence on achieving the point of view of the teacherbeing observed (P. Crehan, personal communication, October 23, 1992).Peer assistance. By contrast, a 1989 example of a teacher-initiated peerprogram in one department of an American high school acknowledges nQtheoretical base, and yet the description sounds, by now, familiar:[Our] own peer assistance program... .has succeeded for three reasons:(1) it is voluntary; (2) it has received administrative support; and (3) ithas been allowed to evolve slowly and naturally... .we really wanted totalk about professional support: assistance, guidance, and insight fromour peers.. ..What we wanted was professional growth in a nonthreatening atmosphere (Chrisco, 1989, p. 31).The choice of the term “peer assistance” is telling: The point of the program isgrowth, not evaluation. This is not to say that evaluation, both self-evaluation and53that of one’s peers or superiors, does not occur during the process of change; rather,the teachers were seeking a safe environment in which to explore the dimensions ofchange and to develop actions. In this context, “evaluation” referred to judgment bysuperiors, of the type that could affect career progress and might thereforecompromise the safety of the situation.Administrative support, particularly in the provision of time, “was crucial toensure that the time spent in a peer assistance relationship was not time added towhat we were already doing, but rather time that added to the quality of what wewere doing” (Chrisco, 1989, p. 32).Chrisco’s story perhaps points to the “rightness” of peer-centred approaches,in that this group of teachers seems to have spontaneously arrived at the same kindof response to their own needs. It could also be that peer-centred approaches, bythe late 1980s, were so much in the air that, even though Chrisco emphasizes thatthey “didn’t adopt an established model, [but] allowed the.. .program to evolve slowlyand naturally” (p. 32), the spirit, if not the theory, had touched the teachers.Interestingly, the benefits reported through Chrisco by her colleagues seemto go straight to the heart of all the types of peer interaction discussed here: Theultimate aim is to have teachers who think and Jjç about the business of teaching,and teaching well. In Chrisco’s school,the greatest strength of the peer assistance project has been to initiateand encourage dialogue between professionals about teaching, abouteducation... .the program has made us all aware of our peers asresources, as a great wealth of experience and information to beshared (p. 32).54And, through opportunities within the peer assistance structure to “rehears&’ and toexamine their practice, the teachers have found thatthe peer assistance program has helped us. ..with awareness... .Ourprofessional instincts are usually strong and accurate, yet many of usteach without being consciously aware of the strategies and techniqueswe employ. That doesn’t mean that we don’t stop to assess what weare doing--we do, but it can be a lonely monologue. When we grapplewith a problem.. .and work it through with others, we don’t feel alone,and we arrive at a better understanding (p. 32).This finding brings us back to Fullan and his optimistic note: “When teacherswere helped to reflect, they found it an enjoyable and powerful experience for theirprofessional development” (1982, p. 122). However, optimism and positive resultsnotwithstanding, the introduction of peer-oriented programs for improving teachingand for effecting change such as the implementation of new curricula is not withoutsome serious problems and costs.Conflict in Peer-Centred Implementation EffortsThere are three general areas of conflict or tension germane to this studythat have been touched upon in the literature, and a fourth more narrowly focusedarea. The first two areas, the world of the teacher and theory versus practice, canappear in any form of change implementation; the third, autonomy versuscollegiality, is a tension peculiar to peer-centred efforts. The fourth, teachers asadvocates, focuses on a single collegial strategy and relates to the strategy observedin this study. While these four areas are presented here as entities, there is of55course overlap among them, as they all impinge on and are affected by “the world ofthe teacher.”The World of the TeacherThe world of the teacher is characterized as individualistic, conservative, andpresentist (Lortie, 1985, p. 212). The introduction, or more accurately theimposition, of curricular innovations represents ambiguity, risk, and a challenge tothe individual teacher’s identity, an identity constructed of daily regularitiesdesigned to reduce ambiguity (e.g. Lortie, 1975; Olson, 1980; Sarason, 1982).The gap between the classroom and the world of research is clearlyillustrated by the fact that the teacher’s world as described here has been describedthus for at least two decades (e.g. Jackson, 1968; Lortie, 1975; Sarason, 1971); yet“change is usually not introduced in a way that takes into account the subjectivereality of teachers” (Fullan, 1991, p. 35). Why is that? In part, I suggest, it is theway in which teachers are perceived by other educators and by themselves.One of the most important characteristics of teachers who are successful atchange is a sense of efficacy (Fransila, 1978; Fullan, 1982; MacDonald & Leithwood,1982; McLaughlin & Marsh, 1978). A feeling of having contributed positively tostudent growth, and recognition by others, augment that sense of efficacy. Teachers,as the deliverers of curriculum, ought to be seen as most able to make decisions andrecommendations based on the direct experiences of the classroom.56Isolation. And yet teachers still struggle with feelings of uncertainty andinadequacy regarding their impact on students’ lives. Teachers are routinelyexcluded from planning, development, and decision-making, but the conditions ofteaching contribute to that exclusion: “To the extent that successful decision makingrequires informed consideration of alternatives, teachers’ general isolation placesthem at a disadvantage” (Little, 1990, p. 527).Isolation from their craft is also a reality in the world of teachers: “Partlybecause of the physical isolation [in individual classrooms] and partly because ofnorms of not sharing, observing, and discussing each other’s work, teachers do notdevelop a common technical culture” (Fullan, 1991, p. 119). Teachers remain aloneas they attempt to preserve their self-image amid the daily demands of theclassroom. Their personal construction of the efficacy of their actions is contributedto by the views of other educators and administrators, rarely in a positive sense.Deficit model. The approach to change in general, to in-service preparationfor change, and to teacher supervision and school development in general, has beenone in which teachers have been regarded as stumbling blocks, lacking in therequisite skills to contribute to the change. McLaughlin and Marsh (1978) delineatethis notion of a deficit-model approach to educational change, noting how the“deficit” view “is being powerfully communicated to teachers” (p. 89) by outside“experts.” Teachers are asked to understand and trust that those experts are theonly ones who know what good teaching is (e.g. Leithwood, 1986, p. 99).57And so the change is ‘done to” the teachers, even though Fullan says “if weknow one thing about innovation and reform, it is that it cannot be done successfullyothers” (1991, p. xiv). This discounting of the expertise of teachers is reinforcedby the way in which innovations are typically introduced:When those who have power to manipulate changes act as if they haveonly to explain, and when their explanations are not at once accepted,shrug off opposition as ignorance or prejudice, they express aprofound contempt for the meaning of lives other than their own. Forthe reformers have already assimilated these changes.. .and workedout a reformulation which makes sense to them, perhaps throughmonths or years of analysis and debate. If they deny others the chanceto do the same, they treat them as puppets (Marris 1975, p. 166, citedin Fullan, 1991, p. 31).If new peer-centred approaches to the implementation of innovations arepresented to teachers without serious regard for the well-documented realities oftheir world, is it surprising that teachers continue to resist and resent suchimpositions? “Awarding power to teachers without helping them develop theirexpertise and the capacity to make informed decisions is yet another occasion toblame victims for the failures” (May, 1989, p. 154). If a teacher lacks faith inpersonal efficacy, how can that teacher presume to offer assistance or advice topeers?Theory versus Practice“Show me!” is the advice, or rather, the plea, of John, one of the teachers inthis study. This is another facet of the gap between the classroom and the world ofresearch: Curriculum developers, change agents, and other researchers regularly58press for teachers’ understanding of the underlying theory or philosophy, with thebelief that this will “convert” the teachers before introducing the new practices,materials, or whatever is required by the proposed change.The structure of most curriculum documents broadcasts this belief, typicallybeginning with such elements as rationale, philosophy, aims, goals, objectives. Forexample, the new Saskatchewan curriculum for visual arts in Grade Three(Saskatchewan Education, 1991a) is 70 pages long. The first 21 pages containintroductory material, restating some of the aims for the fine arts in general butfocusing in this case on visual art. Within that introductory section, 10 pages aredevoted to foundational objectives for Grades One through Five (a “scope andsequence” chart); and seven more pages are given to a more detailed examination offoundational objectives for Grade Three.Then follows material on planning units, on specific teaching strategies forsome of the new material, model units and unit overviews, and suggested activities:the practical material most teachers want first. Almost one third of the document,the first third of it, is reserved for the stuff out of which teachers’ beliefs about artwill be constructed (or so it is hoped by the developers).Meanwhile, teachers are saying, “Be sure consultants know [the project]goals and some specific things to tell the teachers and not a lot of worthlessgeneralizations and theory” (McLaughlin & Marsh, 1978, p. 78, emphasis added).The warning is there in the literature:59The conceptual clarity critical to project success and continuationmust be achieved during the process of project implementation--itcannot be “given” to staff at the “outset” (McLaughlin & Marsh, 1978,p. 80).Or, as Fullan (1991) said, “most people do not discover new understanding untilthey have delved into something” (p. 91). This echoes his earlier comment (1985):“Changes in attitudes, beliefs, and understanding tend to follow rather than precedechanges in behavior” (p. 393). Teachers want proof that an innovation works beforeinvesting in a change of belief.While the North American approach to educating children has longadvocated progressing from the concrete to the abstract, pre- and in-serviceeducation for teachers continues to insist on reversing that order (e.g. May, 1989,p. 153), sometimes, as a consultant’s comment will show (see page 149), even whenthe developers are trying to recognize teachers’ need for initial concreteness. Is itbecause curriculum developers and other promoters of innovation assume thatteachers as educators know the value of theory, and that this knowledge will transferto their needs and behaviour as learners?Teacher Autonomy versus Norms of CollegialitvWhen teachers do set out to learn, evidence suggests that their first source ofaid is most often other teachers, the very people with whom they have too fewopportunities to interact (Fullan, 1991, p. 55). But even when the opportunities arecreated for them, as in peer interaction initiatives, teachers are found to resist, toavoid, to have difficulty actually engaging in such activity.60The roots of this difficulty are partly found in the culture of the school itself,as Little (1990) notes:Many of these developments signal departures from prevailing normsamong teachers... [and] force us to confront the boundaries ofcollaboration that are established (or mediated) by traditions ofclassroom independence and equal status. Problems of autonomy andinitiative come to the fore (p. 511).The educators who devised the various approaches to peer-centred teacherdevelopment, convinced by the successful cases in their research of the power andpotential of collaborative work, tended to ascribe to the term “collegiality”a sense of virtue--the expectation that any interaction that breaks theisolation of teachers will contribute in some fashion to the knowledge,skill, judgment, or commitment that individuals bring to their work,and will enhance the collective capacity of groups or institutions(Little, 1990, p. 509).That “sense of virtue,” however, masks conflicts in interpretation and execution.First, the range of activities that may be called collegial, collaborative, etc.,“comprise fundamentally different conceptions of teachers’ professional relations”(Little, 1990, p. 531). Further, different characterizations of collegiality arequalitatively different in the way they actually recognize (or not) the usual aims ofpeer-centred initiatives.Teacher-teacher interactions can be placed along a continuum, from thosewhich exist in environments where teachers are still quite independent, to thosewhich reflect true interdependence (Little, 1990, p. 512). Four key modes ofinteraction along this continuum noted by Little are: (1) storytelling, (2) aid and61assistance, (3) sharing, and (4) joint work or true interdependence. Each has its owninherent problems.Storytelling and scanning for ideas. This mode of interaction represents thestatus quo: “classroom independence punctuated by occasional contacts amongcolleagues” (Little, 1990, p. 513). These occasional contacts happen most often inthe staifroom, where the stories teachers tell are a way of presenting the self-as-teacher, and a way for listeners to gauge their own performances and to find outinformation without asking directly.The actual interaction in this mode is slight, and the value of storytelling inteachers’ development is still debated, with researchers’ views of storytelling rangingfrom near-contempt through scepticism to high enthusiasm. Little expressesscepticism grounded in the lack of research focused in this area, yet tempered byawareness that further research can shed more light on the areas that show positiveeffects. Storytelling cannot make the actual practice of teaching visible, and as anexclusive mode of interaction “probably serves to sustain rather than to alterpatterns of independent practice” (Little, 1990, p. 515). The feature that invitesfurther research is that, as Little (1990) notes, “in school environments where normsof privacy have been supplanted by norms of mutual support, teachers continue toengage in storytelling even while they pursue other modes of professionalinteraction” (p. 515).Aid and assistance. This mode is probably the dominant conception of“collegiality” in teachers’ minds: “Perhaps the single most pervasive expectation...is62that colleagues will give one another help...when asked” (Little, 1990, P. 515,emphasis added). Giving and asking for help are a step towards sharing what Lortiecalled the “technical culture” of teaching, but perhaps not in sharing and developingwhat researchers value and promote, a higher level of thinking about the principlesas well as the practice of teaching.Aid and assistance are also rather rigidly bound by the conventions of theteachers’ world, which involve deference and preservation of one’s own reputation.“Deference” refers to the notion that teachers give help when asked, but wouldnever interfere in another teacher’s practice uninvited. Such an intrusion would bea challenge to the status of the teacher on which one intruded. As well, thepersisting norm of privacy means that teachers cannot ask questions of each otherwithout being suspected of “not knowing,” supporting the earlier-mentioneddenigration of teachers’ knowledge by outside experts.Understandably, teachers may show little inclination to engage withpeers around matters of curriculum and instruction if doing so canonly be managed in ways that may jeopardize self-esteem andprofessional standing (Little, 1990, p. 516).Current research on aspects of help-giving is beginning to provide clarity andfocus, and may eventually point developers in directions that will help to guaranteethe fruitfulness of this aspect of collegial interaction.Sharing. As a mode of interaction, “sharing” can supplement storytelling bymaking practice more public. The norm of privacy is clearly challenged whenteachers share materials, display their students’ work (and thus their ownexpectations), and use the visibility of each other’s practice as departure points for63discussion. Teaching in schools where sharing is routine “is construed as ‘personalbut not private” (Nias, 1989, in Little, 1990, p. 518).The risks and costs of sharing are very real, though. As with storytelling,there is a wide range of activities that might be called “sharing,” with qualitativedifferences among them as regards furthering professional development. Problemsof perceived status differential are evident in some schools, with accompanyingnegative effects such as undue competitiveness. Little (1990) summarizes thesecosts well:Among the “hidden costs of sharing expertise” are the risk of an addedplanning and preparation burden (as teachers replace the ideas thathave been “given away”) and an erosion of the corpus of ideas,methods, and materials that serve as the basis of individualreputation, giving teachers distinctive identity and status (p. 519).Norms of autonomy-as-privacy make teachers’ perception of the act of sharing onefilled with the costs and risks described by Little.The foregoing three modes of interaction are way-stations on the pathtowards what Little called true interdependence. What would that interdependencelook like? Little (1990) calls it joint work.Joint work. In its ideal form, as described by Little, true interdependencewould not threaten individual initiative or autonomy but would support them whilealso supporting and furthering the common work and aims of all teachers in adepartment, school, or system.Without abandoning basic canons of courtesy, teachers who areengaged in joint work displace the norm of noninterference; analternative norm prevails, one that favors the thoughtful, explicitexamination of practices and their consequences (Little, 1990, p. 522).64Little points out that documented cases of true interdependence are as yetrare. If the motivation comes from teachers, then ‘felt interdependencies arefew... .teachers are motivated to participate with one another to the degree that theyrequire each other’s contributions in order to succeed in their own work” (p. 520,emphasis added). Ultimately, the act of teaching is still an individual matter in mostschools, and so it is the “practicality ethic” that informs teachers’ motivation anddecisions to engage in joint work.When the impetus for collegial work comes from outside, there is a risk thatthe forms of collegiality developed in response to that impetus are, in Hargreaves’words, “contrived collegiality” rather than truly “collaborative cultures:”Contrived collegiality is characterized by a set of formal, specificbureaucratic procedures... .It can be seen in initiatives such as peercoaching, mentor teaching, joint planning in specifically providedrooms, formally scheduled meetings (Hargreaves, 1991, p. 19, inFullan, 1991, p. 136).This warning is applicable to the Catalyst Teacher program examined in this study.A true “collaborative culture,” as conceptualized by Hargreaves, is “deep andongoing, not merely applied for single projects” (Fullan, 1991, p. 136). In thespecific case studied, the two teacher participants could be said to be trulycollaborative, but other relationships in that school and elsewhere in the board andprovince might more properly be characterized as contrived collegiality.The virtue of collegiality must be considered in balance with independence,which does not automatically become “bad.” Looking with hope at the potential forimprovement through collegial interaction is qualified by the need to “retain a place65in this conception for respected and competent independent practice” (Little, 1990,p. 513). Fullan (1991) also advocates the retention of solitude because “most of usseek periods of independent work in order to meet obligations” (p. 136).Another aspect of the risks and costs of collegiality is one of the majorsources of teachers’ self-images: the relationship with students.The teacher-student relation is at the heart of schooling. Deeplypersonal and emotionally dense relations between teachers andstudents rest precisely on the special dispositions and talents ofindividual teachers (Little, 1990, pp. 513-5 14).If collegiality is promoted as the sole current indicator of good teaching, thatrelationship is in danger (Little, 1990, p. 513). This teacher-student relationshipalso calls to mind the discussion in Chapter II of notions of teacher efficacy, whichalways seem to revolve around a teacher’s ability to influence students’ growth in apositive way; this sense of efficacy is often the sole intrinsic reward of teaching.Again, balance is required.In order to create a balance of collegial and independent activity, and torecognize the different needs of staff members, Fullan suggestsinstead of seeking widespread involvement in the use of a particularinnovation, it may be more appropriate.. .to stimulate multipleexamples of collaboration among small groups of teachers (1991,p. 137).Teachers’ roles need to be clearly defined in any change effort; the needincreases as the challenges to existing norms increase. In most forms of peercentred interaction, there is implicit a question of the status of the participants; insome forms, the question becomes explicit as individual teachers take on new roles.66Teachers as Advocates“Initiation of change never occurs without an advocate” (Fullan, 1991, P. 54).This simple statement reinforces an earlier finding, “that if another teacher or someother trusted person vouches for the benefits of the innovation, teachers are willingto try it” (Crandall et al., 1982, in Fullan, 1991, p. 130). And Walters (1987) foundthe presence of a “key person” or catalyst crucial to acceptance of curricular changein art education.The potential advantages in teacher advocacy are in ensuring acceptance bythe other teachers, and in the special learning opportunities afforded the advocate.Just as surely, though, difficulties grounded in the daily realities of teaching come tothe surface.In the case of teacher leadership or teacher advocacy, the major problemarea is role definition, from the point of view of the teacher-advocate, and from thatof professional colleagues. The extra learning opportunities available to theadvocate become a source of status difference, especially when coupled with thenew title given to this teacher. So the teacher advocate (like other teachers who areinvolved in curriculum development committees but who are not formally chargedwith advocacy in their own schools) becomes a kind of “outside expert” who isdistanced from colleagues (Fullan, 1991, p. 138).It is not just the nominal role of the teacher advocate that creates thedistance, it is also the previously mentioned tension around the notion of “helpgiving” (Little, 1990, p. 517). Suddenly, members of a school faculty are expected to67reveal their “inadequacy” by asking for, or accepting, help from someone who wasuntil this change just another member of the staffroom, on an equal footing. Whenthe playing field is no longer level, “many so-called teacher leadership roles. noteasily lend themselves to the kind of collaborative work necessary for classroom andschool improvement” (Fullan, 1991, p. 139).Requirements for successful advocacy. For teacher advocacy to besuccessful, there are two main requisites:[1] Districts must introduce persons to roles and relationships forwhich they typically have had little preparation, and[2] they must introduce the role itself to an institution and occupation inwhich it has few meaningful precedents (Little, 1990, p. 517).Even with training and colleague preparation, Fullan (1991) has another warning forteacher leaders: Keep your advocacy in perspective, because the convertedadvocate is also in danger of adopting the perception of the outside expert whenregarding colleagues’ reception of the innovation:The more an advocate is committed to a particular innovation, thek likely he or she is to be effective in getting itimplemented... .Commitment is needed, but it must be balanced withthe knowledge that people may be at different starting points, withdifferent legitimate priorities, and that the change process may verywell result in transformations or variations in the change (p. 139).There are three personal/professional characteristics that Little (1982)suggests are relevant to successful collegial interaction and, by extension, tosuccessful teacher leadership/advocacy: status, knowledge and skill, and social orrole competence.68Status: “The status of an actor, both ascribed (e.g., position) and achieved (areputation as a master teacher) tends to govern the rights of the actor to initiate andto participate in collegial experimentation” (p. 337). The prevailing norms at theindividual school will determine whether these rights go beyond principals andolder, more experienced teachers.Knowledge and skill: “Actors’ technical skills and knowledge tend to establishboundaries on their latitude to initiate, participate in, or lead collegial work”(p. 337).Social or role competence: “Playing teacher to students is different fromplaying teacher to a teacher. ...The crucial matter of deference--the useful separationof practices and their consequences from persons and their competence--particularly requires role-taking skill” (p. 337).Adequate preparation of the actors is clearly crucial to the success of anyinnovation effort that involves changing, or seeming to change, the norm of equalityamong the teachers in a school.SummaryThe literature reviewed in this chapter presents the narrow end of the funnelentered in Chapter II, directing attention to specific issues within implementationrelated to the social context in which implementation takes place, and to the keyactor in implementation, the teacher. Organizing and refining both chapters of the69review functioned in tandem with the gathering and analysis of data, as categoriesarose and were confirmed reflexively in a cyclical manner throughout the process.A potentially fruitful avenue for research on the social nature of change inart education is in the area of “cooperative professional development” (Glatthorn,1987) in its many guises (Chrisco, 1989; Garmston, 1989; Goldsberry, 1984a; Joyce& Showers, 1980, 1982; Paquette, 1987; Raney & Robbins, 1989; Showers, 1985).Examining programs like the one in Saskatchewan can reveal the bases on which theapproach is developed, the context in which such an approach is situated, ways inwhich administration and school staffs function together, and, most importantly,ways in which the teachers, individually and in the various team groupings, come tounderstand and then to act on the innovations in question.Specific problem areas to be considered include the conflict or tensionbetween traditional notions of autonomy and the more recent idealization ofcollegiality; the need to recognize and then to find ways of alleviating the “costs” ofcollegiality in terms of shared ideas and materials which represent the publicmanifestation of a teacher’s identity and therefore sense of self-worth; and the needto use appropriate pedagogy when preparing teachers for their new roles.For over twenty years the problems inherent in peer-centred change effortshave been discussed in the literature (e.g. Doyle & Ponder, 1977; Fullan, 1982, 1991;House, 1974; Little, 1990; Lortie, 1975; Marris, 1975; Olson, 1980; Sarason, 1971),and researchers have exhorted each other, and school change developers, toacknowledge and understand the world of the teacher. Studies of specific cases are70needed to account for the persistence of the problems and the conditions leading tothem, and to reveal instances of successful solutions.With the help of the analytical devices discussed in Chapter II (causalnetwork and Levels of Use), the particular case that is the focus of this study canilluminate both the positive and negative aspects of a specific strategy involving anincrease in collegiality. The theoretical framework of symbolic interactionism,discussed in the next chapter, provides a useful lens through which to view the dataand analysis.71CHAPTER IV: SYMBOLIC INTERACTIONISM ANDCURRICULAR CHANGEA lengthy discussion of symbolic interactionism in its various forms would beneither appropriate nor necessary in the context of this study. Numerous works nowexist that present detailed historical and critical accounts of the approach (e.g.Meltzer & Petras, 1970; Reynolds, 1987; Rose, 1962a). My intent here is to providea useful frame through which to view both the methods (which are stronglyconnected to and suggested by the theoretical foundation) and the analysis of thedata in this study.Most of the concerns discovered during the process of conducting the study,and confirmed in the literature reviewed, have a compelling connection to thepremises of symbolic interactionism, and specifically to what has been called“Chicago-style interactionism” as proposed initially by Herbert Blumer (1962, 1969)and supported by more recent researchers such as Denzin (1978), Prus (1994a), andWhittaker (1994). The first, and main, point of linkage occurs around notions of theconstruction of meaning. Further connections to specific aspects of the study aredelineated, following a brief examination of Blumer and others in the symbolicinteractionist tradition.A Symbolic Interactionist Context for ResearchA definition of symbolic interaction is difficult to uncover, for it is atheoretical and methodological approach to social research that has as few as two72variants and as many as ten (Meltzer, Petras, & Reynolds, 1975, P. 53). Symbolicinteractionism’s distinguishing features, however, can be described. They lie in itsconceptions or images of individual humans and of human society, and in the factthat these conceptions are inextricably linked around the central notion of meaningor interpretation. Herbert Blumer offers an explanation:The term “symbolic interaction” refers.. .to the peculiar and distinctivecharacter of interaction.. .between human beings. The peculiarityconsists in the fact that human beings interpret or “define” eachother’s actions instead of merely reacting to each other’s actions.Their “response” is not made directly to the actions of one another butinstead is based on the meaning which they attach to such actions.Thus, human interaction is mediated by the use of symbols, byinterpretation, or by ascertaining the meaning of one another’sactions. This mediation is equivalent to inserting a process ofinterpretation between stimulus and response in the case of humanbehavior (Blumer, 1962, P. 180, emphasis added).Herbert BlumerWhittaker (1994) suggests that recognition of Blumer’s contribution tointerpretive research and more specifically to anthropology has not yet beenadequately made and is in fact overdue. Blumer himself recognizes George HerbertMead as the inspiration and founder of symbolic interactionism (Blumer, 1969,p. 1), but it is through Blumer’s published work and personal influence that theideas and even the name of this interpretive approach to social research have beenpassed on (Pits, 1994a, p. 15). His debt to Mead, and an explication of Mead’sideas, are well covered elsewhere (e.g. Meltzer, Petras, & Reynolds, 1975; Pits,1994a; Reynolds, 1987; Tarr, 1992) along with summaries of the work of other73antecedents of symbolic interactionism such as Cooley (1922, 1926) and Thomas(1928).Blumer’s work j pivotal in the history of symbolic interactionism, particularlyas he preserved most faithfully the ideas of Mead in what has come to be known asthe Chicago school of symbolic interactionism. Blumer’s “three simple premises”have been elaborated by later researchers, but these three are always present:The first premise is that human beings act towards things on the basisof the meanings that the things have for them... .The second premise isthat the meaning of such things is derived from, or arises out of, thesocial interaction one has with one’s fellows. The third premise is thatthese meanings are handled in, and modified through, an interpretiveprocess used by the person in dealing with the things he encounters(Blumer, 1969, p. 2).Blumer also presents what he calls the four “central conceptions” of symbolicinteractionism; Reynolds (1987, p. 120) suggests that they are almost inseparablefrom the three premises:1. People, individually and collectively, are prepared to act on thebasis of the meanings of the objects that comprise their world.2. The association of people is necessarily in the form of a process inwhich they are making indications to one another and interpretingeach other’s indications.3. Social acts, whether individual or collective, are constructedthrough a process in which the actors note, interpret, and assess thesituations confronting them.4. The complex interlinkages of acts that comprise organizations,institutions, division of labor and networks of interdependency aremoving and not static affairs (Blumer, 1969, p. 50).Reynolds further suggests that the four conceptions are probably superior tothe three premises as representations of symbolic interactionism’s basicassumptions, because the inclusion in the fourth conception of the image of society74complements the image of the individual which dominates the three premises andthe first three conceptions, making the theory more complete (Reynolds, 1987,p. 121).Hallmarks of the Symbolic Interactionist PerspectiveFocus on (inter)action. The construction of meaning is an ongoing process inwhich humans engage as individuals and as members of social groups. Humans areactive in this process:The human individual confronts a world that he must interpret inorder to act instead of an environment to which he responds becauseof his [biological or psychological] organization....He has to constructand guide his action instead of merely releasing it in response tofactors playing on him or operating through him. He may do amiserable job in constructing his action, but j has to construct it(Blumer, 1969, p. 15, emphasis added).From a symbolic interactionist viewpoint, though, there is no such thing as apurely individual action; there is always a social context in which meaning isconstructed and action chosen.Objects. “Objects” or “social objects” in symbolic interactionist talk are allthose things to which individuals attend in constructing the meaning of a situationand in choosing the action they will take. “An object is anything that can beindicated, anything that is pointed to or referred to--a cloud, a book, a legislature, abanker, a religious doctrine, a ghost” (Blumer, 1969, p. 10). Blumer compares thesource of the meaning of objects to two traditional sociological and psychologicalresearch approaches of the time:75a) Meaning is “intrinsic to the thing that has it” (1969, P. 3); the individual thereforeneed only recognize it.b) Meaning is “a psychical accretion brought to the thing by the person for whom thething has meaning” (1969, p. 3); there are individual “screens” through which theworld is perceived in a one-way fashion.But symbolic interactionism “sees meaning as arising in the process ofinteraction between people” (1969, p. 3), a process that is at least two-way, orintersubjective and self-reflective.Role-taking, self, and joint action. “Role-taking” arises from Mead’s conceptoff, and specifically the capacity to recognize the self as an object:Self.. .takes its shape as people take the role or assume the perspectiveof the community at large, and this is done most fundamentally...aspeople acquire the shared language of the community and attempt tofit their lines of action into those of others in that community (Prus,1994a, p. 14).Role-taking allows the individual to take the perspective and to attempt toanticipate the actions of the “other,” whether that is a very localized and specificother, or a group, the “generalized other” of Mead (Blumer, 1962, p. 184). “ForBlumer, as for every symbolic interactionist, there exists a self formed in trueMeadian fashion by taking the roles of others with whom one is implicated in thejoint activities of life” (Whittaker, 1994, p. 390, emphasis added). Joint activity is theway in which individuals “fit their lines of action” together, based on commonlyagreed-upon meanings of social objects within the situation at hand.76The importance of language. Denzin supports Blumer’s scheme of threebasic premises underlying symbolic interactionism (Reynolds, 1987, p. 121). He saysthatthe symbolic interactionists. . .assume that human societies arenegotiated, emergent productions.. ..furthermore...that human beingshave the capability to engage in self-directed, linguistically groundedreflections and that this reflective ability enables people to enter intothe organization of their own lines of action (Denzin, 1978a, p. 1).Denzin recommends that researchers should ‘focus on the interrelationshipsbetween (1) selves, (2) languages, (3) social settings, (4) social objects, (5) the jointact, (6) the social relationship” (1978b, p. 13). He echoes Mead in pointing tolanguage as “the basic medium through which selves are presented, defined andjoined together” (Denzin, 1978b, p. 14). Prus also stresses the importance oflanguage because of “its potential for intersubjectivity (obtaining a sharedunderstanding of the other), self-reflectivity (developing a sense of self, interpreting,conversing with oneself), and meaningful activity (anticipating, performing,interacting, accomplishing, or doing things” (1994a, p. 11).Emergence. Prus (1994a) presents a summation of the general assumptionsthat guide interactionist research, indicating that human group life is(multi)perspectival, reflective, negotiable, relational, and processual (pp. 18-19).These five assumptions are based on what Prus (1994a) calls the “emergent ordynamic notion of human enterprise” (p. 20).Prus extends this notion of emergence or dynamism into that of genericsocial processes, the “trans-situational elements of interaction” (1994b, p. 395). The77five processes are interrelated and subsume further processes; Prus sees them as“key elements of people’s involvements in situations... [and] central features ofcommunity life” (1994b, p. 396). They are: acquiring perspectives, achievingidentity, being involved, doing activity, and experiencing relationships (1994b,pp. 396-409).The value to researchers of these concepts, says Prus, is that “they providethe essential medium through which similarities and differences [across situations]may be more fully recognized, examined, and appreciated” (1994b, p. 395).If human interaction, following Blumer, is “emergent, processual, andvoluntaristic” (Meltzer, Petras, & Reynolds, 1975, p. 67) it requires a researchmethodology that allows for “intimate familiarity” (Blumer, 1969) with the livedexperiences of the people being studied. The array of strategies now attached, moreor less loosely, to interpretive research (e.g. participant observation, sensitizingconcepts, interviews, life histories, diaries) provides today’s researcher withconsiderable latitude in conducting a study from a symbolic interactionistperspective.A Symbolic Interactionist View of Curricular ChangeMuch of the language in Chapter II anticipates the premises of symbolicinteractionism, so that by now the affinity between the area of curricular change andthis theoretical foundation needs review and focusing more than introduction. Thestrongest tie, the construction of meaning, is repeatedly emphasized by a number of78writers (Doyle & Ponder, 1977; Fransila, 1989; Fullan, 1991; Hall et al., 1975;Loucks & Pratt, 1979; Olson, 1980; Walters, 1987).There is a recognition, particularly by Doyle and Ponder, Fullan, and Olson,as cited above, that different actors--curriculum writers, supervisors, consultants,principals, and classroom teachers, for example--will construct different meaningsfrom the same proposed new curriculum. Those different meanings will result, inturn, in different expectations and actions in relation to the implementation of thatcurriculum. Thus, from a symbolic interactionist perspective, while the classroomteacher may be the ultimate actor in implementation, a researcher will need to beaware of all the other actors’ images of the curriculum and their proposed way(s) ofimplementing it.Generic Social Processes in Curriculum ImplementationIf Prus’s notion of generic social processes (1994b) forms a framework forthe process under study--the use of “Catalyst Teachers” to assist in theimplementation of a new curriculum--a symbolic interactionist view of theimplementation project can be constructed. Within each of the five processes thereare many sub-processes, too many to allow for conciseness of illustration. Forpurposes of this illustration, sub-processes are selected from two of the five:“Acquiring Perspectives,” and “Doing Activity.” This is only for brevity and forspecific reference to this case; it is not to say that the other three processes,79“Achieving Identity,” “Being Involved,” and “Experiencing Relationships,” would notapply.Acquiring perspectives. According to Prus (1994b, pp. 396-397), peopledevelop perspectives (or “interpretive frameworks”) as a way of making sense of theworld. These perspectives are socially constructed through interaction with theobjects of daily life, and the accumulation of them over time constitutes a kind of“regularity” (Sarason, 1971) in the teacher’s school life. In the context of theimposition of a curriculum implementation project, a teacher (as only one of theactors in the situation) would probably engage in such sub-processes as Prus hasdescribed (1994b, p. 39):Encounteringperspectives (definitions of reality) from others: This wouldinclude, as only one example, awareness in the day-to-day life of the school of theviews of the subject matter (art) held by colleagues, the principal, visitingsupervisors, children, and parents. All these perspectives would be taken intoaccount as the teacher builds a perspective on the subject of art as it applies withinthe school setting.Assessing (new, incoming) perspectives and resisting unwanted viewpoints: Thenew curriculum in art, and the proposed program for implementing it, are newperspectives on both the subject and the way in which it is taught. Recalling notionsabout the inherent conservatism of teachers, and the element of risk in change asregularities are challenged (Fullan, 1991; Lortie, 1975; Sarason, 1982), we can seehow these new perspectives could involve “unwanted viewpoints” and result in a80choice not to implement. “Human group life is reflective... .As reflective entities,people may pursue activities on their own and may also resist unwanted impositions”(Prus, 1994a, p. 18).Developing images of objects (including images of otherpeople and oneself):Two “objects” in this situation would be the content of the new curriculum itself, andthe notion of a “Catalyst Teacher” in the school. The teacher would constructimages of these new objects through interaction with his own past meanings of artcurriculum and collegial activity, and with the other actors in the situation as they allconstruct images and find ways of fitting them together.Dealing with ambiguity, resolving contradictions: This again highlights thenotion of risk in change. “Even for those coming from rather similar settings,ventures into new realms of the ‘other’ are often characterized by considerablelevels of uncertainty and possible disjunctures in perspectives, identities, activities,and relationships” (Prus, 1994b, p. 400). This is another part of the emergent, fluid,and negotiated character of social life.Promoting (and defending) perspectives (and definitions of reality) to others:The teacher may wish to encourage other colleagues to join the project, or to trysome of the new teaching strategies recommended in the curriculum. The teachermay also need to defend reasons for joining (or not joining) the projectRejectingformerly held viewpoints, adopting new viewpoints: Viewpoints aboutautonomy and power relationships among colleagues are particularly challenged bythe imposition of the teacher-advocate role. As well, Prus advises that81even highly repetitive, long-established activities are subject toongoing definition and adjustment on the parts of the people involved.Thus, existing practices remain viable only so long as people continueto acknowledge them as appropriate and continue to act accordingly(1994a, p. 17).Doing activity. Prus notes that “activities acquire their meaning orpurposiveness relative to both the perspectives from which they are envisioned andthe identities of the people involved” (1994b, p. 403). This is probably the mostcomplicated of the five generic social processes, since it involves the arena of action,the main focus of symbolic interactionist research. There are numerous subcategories and sub-processes in “doing activity.” The major categories are:performing activity, influencing others, pursuing objectives by forming associationswith others, and making commitments.Consider, for the purpose of this illustration, some of the processes throughwhich the Catalyst Teacher would go (Prus, 1994b, pp. 403-408). Although Prus wasnot writing about teachers, the processes are quite self-evident, so there is lessillustrative commentary attached to these examples.1. PerfonningActivity:Making (preliminaiy) plans for her own implementation activity, as well as forher activity in the new role of Catalyst Teacher.Managing stage fright (reservations, if any): The Catalyst Teacher’s ownperformance in her previously private classroom becomes a matter for discussion, aspart of the validation of her new status. The way in which her colleagues will receiveher is also a cause for some trepidation.82Having agreed to her new role, the Catalyst Teacher is thenceforwardinvolved in at least two roles: that of ordinary classroom teacher, and that ofcatalyst. Not only does her self-definition change with each role; her choices ofactivity will change too, as she considers her options in the light of each role.Developing competence (stock of knowledge, tactics, applications).Conveying images of competence (displaying ability, composure).2. Influencing Others:Role-taking (inferring/uncovering the perspectives of the other).Promoting interest in one objectives.Generating trust.3. Pursuing Objectives by FormingAssociations with Others:Recognizing the value of collective venture.Involving others in the venture (recruitment, screening minimizingreservations).Pursuing resourcesfor the group.Facing generalized loss of interest: “Many times, joint action does not arise inthe way we hope it will, and conflict arises to terminate it; but this in and of itself isboth a form of joint action and social change (Reynolds, 1987, p. 69).4. Making Commitments:Exploring and assessing options.Organizing routines aroundparticular activities.83SummaryThis chapter attempts to show how a symbolic interactionist perspectivemight be adopted to explain the individual and social processes involved in acurriculum implementation project. Notions of self-reflectivity, intersubjectivity,emergence and fluidity, all focused on mutual construction of meaning, make “thepackage of ideas embedded in the interpretive approach seem not only somehowtruthful, but inevitable” (Whittaker, 1994, p. 380).A symbolic interactionist approach provides the most economical andpotentially the most adequate means to interpret the recorded classroom-relatedexperiences. The research methods implied and advocated require the researcher toenter into the interactional situation as far as possible, to try to take the perspectiveof those being studied in order to represent their meanings with clarity and respect.As Chapter V will discuss, ethnographically-rooted methods provide the necessaryconnection to the lives of those being studied.84CHAPTER V. METHODMethodological Implications of Symbolic Interactionism“No single method will ever meet the requirements of interaction theory”(Denzin, 1970, P. 26). Because of concerns about reliability and validity, no singlemethod really suffices for any approach to research today. This section describesthe “requirements of interaction theory” as discussed particularly by Blumer, andarrives at a set of methods that meet those requfrements and that fit the needs ofthe study.Intimate Familiarity through Sympathetic IntrospectionIntimate familiarity with the life world of the persons being studied is the aimof interactionist research (Blumer, 1969). The “tools” (or methods) that have cometo be identified with ethnography, primarily participant observation, but includingother approaches such as interviewing, case studies, life histories, and diaries, arealso those advocated by Blumer as the preferred methods of symbolic interactionism(Meltzer & Petras, 1970, pp. 6-7).These methods are dictated by Blumer’s image of humans as actors in socialcontexts; they help the researcher to enter the world, and the role, of the actors, toseek intimate familiarity with the meanings the actors construct in given situations,and to represent faithfully the actors’ own categories of meaning. Blumer calls theuse of these methods “sympathetic introspection.” Through them the researcher85becomes part of the interactive situation, and the meaning constructed andpresented is a joint act among researcher and participants.When researchers venture into the world of education with a symbolicinteractionist perspective, careful consideration needs to be given to the methodschosen, and even to the naming of those methods. The use of the term“ethnography” or “ethnographic” is not always appropriate, despite some surfaceresemblances to this branch of anthropology.Ethnographic Research in EducationThe meeting ground between educational research and ethnography has inthe past been fraught with tension. Particularly in the late 1970s and early 1980s,when ethnographic methods were first being adopted on a widening scale byeducational researchers, concerns were evident in the literature. Critics from thefield of ethnography (e.g. Wilson, 1977; Hymes, 1980, 1982) pointed to educationalresearchers who claimed to be doing ethnography, but who were (for example) notspending enough time in the field; not conducting enough true participantobservation; getting caught up in the education system’s preoccupation with testingand evaluation; trying to force the fieldwork tradition to fit that paradigm.Ethnographic purists indeed had reason for concern as they observed educationalresearchers adopting with enthusiasm--but also adapting and arguably mutilating-their approaches.86And yet, educational researchers were recognizing in ethnography theresponse to a desire for an alternative to hard-data quantitative methods, that wouldreflect the human, social context of the endeavour they sought to study andilluminate. Notions of the school and classroom as cultures (or subcultures) as inthe work of Jackson (1968), Sarason (1971), Wolcott (1973), or Lortie (1975)suggested a natural fit with ethnography:Perhaps the most important contributions of anthropology toeducation are: first, the insistence on direct observation of humanbeings within their own settings; second, the demand forunderstanding these worlds through the perceptions of those actuallyliving in them; third, the requirement that the researcher adapt to theworlds inhabited by the persons studied. With no imaginative stretchnor logical difficulty, it is rather simple to draw an analogy betweenthe field worker and the educator (Roberts, 1976, p. 13-14).The holistic frame of reference, the contextualized nature of ethnographic research,and the emphasis on representing the meanings constructed by the actors in thesetting seemed ideal for exploring and communicating the worlds of teachers andstudents.Modification of some of the tenets of “pure” ethnography had to occur inorder to permit the research to go on at all, a situation which is now recognized inmany forms of contemporary, “experience-near” ethnographies. The culture of theschool and classroom had characteristics that militated against the researcher’sability to enter the field, to work as unobtrusively as possible, and even to be aparticipant-observer:In doing research in schools, the widely used technique of participantobservation runs afoul of that organization’s own tradition.. ..Thereare relatively few formal roles in schools, and the roles available are87not necessarily attractive for accomplishing research that must bebased on limited rather than total involvement (Wolcott, 1976, p. 37).While recognizing difficulties in applying ethnographic methodology to educationalresearch, Wolcott recommends making the effort, noting that “most accountslabeled as ethnography are really contributions toward the ethnography of someculture-sharing human group... .1 would insist that one can take an ethnographicapproach to studying virtually any aspect of human social life’ (Wolcott, 1976,pp. 23-24).This “permission” from Wolcott freed me to reconsider my study, to situate itwithin the ethnographic tradition, but to recognize how it differed:(1) The study involved a relatively small number of visits to the research site.(2) Not only the number, but also the duration, of visits was curtailed by theconstraints of the school organization and teachers’ timetables.(3) The phenomenon under examination involved at least as much thethoughts and attitudes of the two teachers as it did their overt actions; hence themajor research tool became the interview rather than participant observation.Yet I present on the site of their practice; I çjj4 observe each teacher forat least a full half day; I was welcomed into and participated in the life of the school.It was clear to me that the study had ethnographic roots. The intent was torepresent the point of view of the participating teachers as they negotiated their firstyear with a new curriculum. I needed to contextualize my understanding of theirtalk and actions, as revealed in interviews, informal conversations, classroomactivity, and school life, by attending to the daily influences and pressures to which a88teacher is subjected while I attempted to account for the phenomenon under studyas it emerged, rather than, for example, simply reporting the incidence of examplesof use or non-use of the new curriculum, without tiying to uncover iii these thingshappened at those times. Still, despite my attraction to ethnographic method, I wasconscious of the criticisms of “blitzlcrieg ethnography” (Rist, 1980), and accordinglysought a term that would describe more appropriately what I was doing in this study.Qualitative Case StudiesThe search took me to R.K. Yin (1984) and to S.B. Merriam (1988) and tomy adoption of the term “case study.” Case study is a legitimate approach insymbolic interactionist-oriented research: “There has emerged an affinitybetween. studies and interactionism. Indeed, the qualitative case study hasbecome identified as the research method of [the Blumerian] interactionistperspective” (Lofland, 1970, p. 37). Wolcott’s suggestion that a case study could bea contribution toward an ethnography of an aspect of schooling helped me to focuson those characteristics of case study research that were pertinent to my approach tothis study.Characteristics of qualitative case study. Merriam defines the qualitativecase study as “an intensive, holistic description and analysis of a single entity,phenomenon, or social unit” (1988, p. 16). That “single entity” is also often called a“bounded system;” the case study “tells a story” about it (Stake, 1988, p. 256). Yinadds other central elements: A case study89investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real-life context;whenthe boundaries between phenomenon and context are not clearlyevident; and in whichmultiple sources of evidence are used (Yin, 1984, p. 23, emphasisadded).This last element, multiple sources of evidence, frees the researcher from therequirement of using participant observation as the prime, if not the only, researchtool. A final addition from Merriam completes a useful description of case studythat also fits a symbolic interactionist perspective: “This approach aims to uncoverthe interaction of significant factors characteristic of the phenomenon” (1988, p. 10).Case study in educational research. In education, the case study is valuablefor exploring “the processes and dynamics of practice” (Merriam, 1988, p. xi). Inparticular, educational innovations are often the focus for case study because thismethod can help to build a rich data base for further exploration, comparison, andgeneration and refinement of theory. As innovations are introduced, descriptivecase studies are most useful, developing the necessary “thick description’ for furthercomparison. Interpretive case studies provide thick description, but begin toanalyze and attempt to explain the phenomena uncovered, and in some instances todevelop theory. Evaluative case studies are commissioned or initiated in order todiscover whether, and how well, a particular innovation has been put into practice.According to Merriam, “in reality, most [educational] case studies are a combinationof description and interpretation, or description and evaluation” (1988, p. 35).90“Emergence” and Grounded TheoryThe emergent, or dynamic, nature of human social interaction is recognizedin the application of “grounded theory” (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). In its simplestterms, grounded theory is the generation or construction of a theory from the dataduring the research process. It is an interactive process, as the researcher engagesin joint collection, coding, and analysis of data (Glaser & Strauss, 1967, p. 43). Thetheory emerges concurrently with the unfolding of actions and events in thesituation being studied, and as further data are collected, the researcher aims toclarify, to revise, and ultimately to refine categories until the elements of a theoryare well developed. Glaser and Strauss describe the coding method as “constantcomparison” and the evolving data-collection decisions as “theoretical sampling.”This approach to the generation of theory also recognizes the unpredictablenature of much human activity, recalling Blumer’s scepticism about the possibility ofpredicting human behaviour. It allows for fluidity of approach, for the possibility ofchange in almost any aspect of the research project without requiring that theresearcher abandon it and start over. The researcher is freed from the confinementof entering the project with predetermined theoretical assumptions to be proven.This is not to say that the researcher enters the field with a blank mind and nointentions; simply the choice of, for example, a particular research site alreadyindicates a particular intent or preference on the researcher’s part. However, “thosewho work within the anthropological tradition cultivate the skill of suspending.. .theirpreconceptions” (Wilson, 1977, p. 251).91SummaryThe result of considering theoretical perspectives, qualitative case studycharacteristics, and the use of grounded theory, is the characterization of this studyas a descriptive/interpretive case study wherein the “case” is the working relationshipbetween two teachers. One is a designated “Catalyst Teacher” and the other is acolleague involved in negotiating the implementation of the same new artcurriculum. The main research method was the semistructured, “non-exploitive”(Kirby & McKenna, 1989, p. 66) interview, supported by participant observation,informal conversations, and interviews with concerned individuals outside the case.Through constant comparison and theoretical sampling, categories emerged andwere modified throughout the process in order to suggest refinements to existingtheory about collegiality among teachers. Procedures will be discussed explicitlyunder appropriate headings in the next sections of this chapter.Preparation and Entry into the FieldThe ethnographic roots of this study are deliberately recalled in the choice oftitle for this section. Many terms, such as “entry into the field,” “researcheridentity/reflexivity,” “gatekeepers,” “participant observation,” “role-making,” and“impression management” come from the field of anthropology and especially fromethnography and are chosen for their by-now commonly understood nature and,most simply, for their appropriateness.92This section is organized in a more or less chronological fashion, charting theprocedures followed in selecting and designing the project, and consideringexplicitly my own initial assumptions and background, as well as the role I played(and made) as researcher.Project SelectionThe general topic area of curriculum implementation in art guided my initialsearch for a research project. Working as an art education professor in Alberta, Ihad been in contact with two writers of the recently-published elementary artcurriculum for that province, during its writing phase. As colleagues in the samedepartment, we met regularly to read drafts and comment on them. When thecurriculum was distributed to schools, provincial conference sessions indicatedresistance and even hostility to this change; word of mouth told us that teacherswere having great difficulty in adjusting to the requirements of the new curriculum.It seemed that this was a perfect opportunity for a study.Resistance and refusal. The first study I designed involved observing andinterviewing in depth one or two “successful” implementers of the new elementarycurriculum in and near my own locale. I began by contacting the chiefadministrators and art supervisors of nearby school divisions, to seek permission todo the study, and to ask for recommendations of exemplary teachers whom I couldcontact to seek their participation.93Resistance and refusal were the order of the day. In some cases, the chiefadministrator blocked any further progress, citing “investigator overload” in hisdivision. When I progressed as far as a recommended teacher, the principal wassupportive, but the teacher was already involved in at least one other researchproject.Reflecting on this discouraging experience, I concluded two things:(1) “successful” implementers were rarer than I had expected, and therefore in toogreat demand; and (2) the curriculum, while still in theory “new” (having, at thattime, been in the schools for only about four years) had probably met a fate whichteachers would not be pleased to reveal to a researcher: “Rejection and oppositionare most likely to occur.. .when the subjects do not want anyone to know what theyare doing” (Shaffir, Dietz, & Stebbins, 1994, p. 36). I suspected that, havingstruggled with unfamiliar material demanding great changes in teaching practice andphilosophy, with little or no development assistance at local or provincial levels,many teachers had “made their peace” with the document by placing it on a shelfand resuming their customary art teaching practice, a not untypical strategy, giventhe discussions in Chapter II and III.A new approach. Fortunately, another option appeared. While attending anational art education conference, I had heard a presentation by one of the writersof the new arts education curriculum in Saskatchewan, when it was still in draftform. The presenter spoke with great enthusiasm of the way the Ministry ofEducation planned to support implementation, through something called a Teacher94Leader Program. When I realized that my original study plan was not going to bepossible, I recalled that presentation, sought some initial information, and began topursue the possibility of a study involving “teachers teaching teachers” in some way.Researcher identity. In the preceding paragraphs, I have spoken in a verypersonal way about my experiences in selecting a research project. Because, inethnographically-based research from a symbolic interactionist perspective, theinvestigator is a prime research instrument (Merriam, 1988; Prus, 1994a; Shaffiret al., 1994), it is imperative that I reveal as explicitly as possible my ownassumptions, prior knowledge, expectations, and feelings as the research processunfolds. “Indeed, some personal involvement must be conveyed in order to generatecloseness to the situation as a warrant for the argument” (Shaffir et a!., 1994, p. 32).And, because the situation under study is fluid and dynamic, so are the roles andmeanings that I, as the researcher/participant, construct (Shaffir et al., p. 52).Study DesignThe initial questions guiding my research echoed some by McMilan andSchumacher: “‘I wonder what will happen now that..?’ ‘What does this event reallymean to participants?’ or ‘How are they going to manage to do that?’” (1984, p. 10,in Merriam, 1988, p. 43). In considering the “Catalyst Teacher” project and thinkingabout individual teachers in individual schools, I wondered how these teacherswould cope with the double demand of gaining understanding of a new curriculum95while also coming to terms with a new role and status in the school’s socialorganization.Accordingly, my first questions were grouped around three areas of curiosity:(1) the construction of meaning about the curriculum through individual interactionwith the document and through interaction with each other about the document;(2) the management of a new role by the Catalyst Teacher and the interpretation ofthat role by the colleague participant; and (3) implementation strategies developedby the two teachers, individually and in concert. In addition, my personal interest inearly childhood education and a recognition that the primary division was whereteachers were most likely to be required to teach all subjects with no formalspecialist intervention prompted me to focus the study on the primary division, fromKindergarten through Grade Three.Since my concern was not with teaching practice, but with the deliberationsthat would precede practice, and especially change in practice, I determined that themain data collection method would be a series of interviews. Limited participant-observation would help to clarify my understanding and provide corroboration (orcontradiction) of the teachers’ spoken descriptions of their understanding and intentregarding the new curriculum, and thus guide further interview topics. With a viewtoward some form of triangulation (Denzin, 1970, p. 301; Merriam, 1988, p. 169,172) I also planned to ask the participants to record impressions, events between myvisits, plans, and so on in a journal. My goal in combining all these methods was toproduce a rich, thick description.96Site SelectionA personal and professional acquaintance provided my first entrée into theresearch process. Having determined to study Saskatchewan’s Teacher LeaderProgram, but having no names to contact, I approached Petra Rogers, a colleaguewho was an art consultant with an urban Saskatchewan school board, intending onlyto find out the names of the relevant people in the Ministry of Education whom Ishould contact to begin the process. I received not only the appropriate names andaddresses, but also some advance information on how Petra’s board was handlingthe implementation of the new curriculum by developing a modification of theTeacher Leader Program, involving “Catalyst Teachers.” Petra, in fact, became a“sponsor” in all the senses described below:“Sponsors” denote people who...facilitate the researcher’s contactswith those they would like to access... .Sponsors may be formalgatekeepers of sorts who provide permission and entry into certainresearch sites. In other cases they may be... associates who introduceresearchers to those with whom they wish to make contact. Somesponsors are very strong (helpful and well connected) and may alsoserve as key informants themselves (Prus, 1994a, p. 23).My initial contact with the Ministry personnel, through an interview in June1991, gave me a great deal of information about the history of recent curriculumchange in Saskatchewan, and encouragement to set up my study in any centre thatseemed useful. I also realized that the Teacher Leader Program was nQI the kind of“key person” project I had wanted to study. Then, knowledge of this modification,the “Catalyst Teacher Program,” revived my spirits and gave me another avenue to97explore. I approached Petra again and began the process of obtaining permissionand, most importantly, participants.GatekeepersProvincial. The first gatekeepers, or “owners,” I encountered followingPetra’s assistance were the personnel at the Ministry of Education. These twopeople, Wynona Knowles and Lynne Allen, represented the writers, theimplementation planners; their discussion of the Teacher Leader Program had adecidedly proprietary tone. In this crucial first year of implementation, permissionfrom this level was the essential starting point. Our discussion was full enough thatmy purpose was clearly understood, and even though I ultimately chose to study a“deviation” from, or adaption of, the Ministry’s own program, I received ample -support and encouragement.Local. Petra Rogers, the art consultant, provided information,encouragement, and assistance in entering the field for this study. Afterinterviewing the Ministry personnel, I contacted Petra again, explained that herboard’s Catalyst Teacher Program sounded much more like the kind ofimplementation strategy I wanted to study, and arranged for a long interview in July1991. During this interview, I gained more insight into the history of thedevelopment of this curriculum, and the evolution of the Catalyst Teacher Program.As well, Petra provided me with the procedure for obtaining permission toconduct the study. Correspondence over the summer with the Deputy Director of98the Department of Educational Services, Bridgeton School Board, resulted inpermission for me to begin recruiting participants, and supported Petra’s agreementto have me attend a late summer inservice workshop that she was running with herfellow Arts Education Consultant. This half-day workshop, in late August of 1991,was for all teachers in the board, to introduce them to the new curriculum.Although classroom observation was only a minor part of the researchdesign, parents also had to be regarded as gatekeepers, and their permission sought.Information letters that I had drafted were sent home with consent forms attached;these forms were returned to the teachers who gave them to me. Consistent withstandard ethical concerns regarding informed consent and participant anonymity, allthose interviewed signed “informed consent” forms indicating their understanding ofthe project’s aims, guaranteeing their anonymity and their right to withdraw at anytime. Names and other identifying details have been changed in this text, except formy own name. When quoting from interview transcripts, the only other change Ihave made is to edit out excessive verbalized pauses and other idiosyncrasies ofinformal conversation that make reading awkward; these changes have also beenmade, however, with awareness of trying to maintain the flavour of the speaker’sexpressive style.Participant SelectionBecause I wanted to work with a Catalyst Teacher and one other teacher inthe same school, I had to rely first on Petra Rogers and then on principals for99recommendations to potential participants. The Catalyst Teachers were not chosenor identified in their schools until after the fall 1991 term had started. In October, Ireceived from Petra a list of four possible primary teachers. I then contacted theirprincipals for permission to recruit; receiving that permission, I wrote to theteachers, giving an overview of the purpose and procedure of the study and askingfor an indication of interest.Eventually I had a positive response from one Catalyst Teacher, and atelephone call in December confirmed her participation and the date of my first visitto Oak Park School. The teacher, Nancy Cansler, had not yet identified a coparticipant, but was confident of doing so by January 9, 1992, the date of that visit.With her principal’s assistance, she did in fact identify a co-participant, John Dana.Site DescriptionIt was clear from my first visit that “the culture of the school” was somethingthat permeated an entire structure, and perhaps even began with the structure. Inorder to set the stage for the story of Nancy and John at Oak Park School, I begin byportraying the school, not only as physical setting, but also as the context for thestudy. Here I take “context” to mean all of the physical, human, social, emotional,and psychological factors that combine to create the perception of “Oak ParkSchool” and no other.Oak Park is some 80 years old. It is one of four schools in the city of a similarage and architectural tradition; from the roof of one (about four tall storeys up) you100can pick out the turrets and rooflines of the others. The school has “character;” it isimposing in its height, like the schools of my prairie childhood. The aura of pasttradition blends with contemporaly concerns and practices. Outside, there are theold “Boys” and “Girls” entrances. Inside, a trophy case is filled with memorabiliacelebrating a famous alumnus. In the basement, a brightly painted room coveredwith nutrition posters serves one and sometimes two meals a day to children whowould otherwise arrive and leave hungry. A modern gymnasium is attached in a newwing. The old gym, on the third floor, has a community clothing depot in a room offthe stage. Two unused classrooms on this floor are now the science and art rooms.A small self-contained apartment, originally for the janitor who had to live on thepremises in order to keep the great furnace stoked and the building warm, nowhouses a nurse’s/conference room and a plant-filled science club room.Once a K-12 school, Oak Park is now K-6 with 16 teachers and some 200students, approximately half of whom are First Nations people. It is an inner cityschool, and “high needs” in current parlance, hence the nutrition room and clothingdepot At any time of the school day a visitor will notice the sounds of this school:classroom doors may be open or closed, but the sounds of activity filter into the widecorridors. Children on various errands move between classrooms, office, resourcerooms. These wide corridors also accommodate several classrooms at once forviewing a film or rehearsing for the upcoming musical production: a space easilydarkened, immediately accessible from the classrooms, and not tying up thegym/auditorium where less sedentary activities may be booked.101The principal’s office is small, up on the second floor--not, I suspect, where itwas when the school was built. The small and rather crowded areas of the “officecomplex” at Oak Park (principal’s and secretary’s offices, supply room) suggest thatas little space as possible has been taken from that available for common use. Theprincipal’s office contains a desk and chair, a small round table and one or twochairs for conferences, and walls covered with children’s art, most of it inscribedaffectionately to the principal. Photographs in the hall beside this office show theprincipal with teachers and children engaged in outdoor activities.My own memory of similar schools shows the office on a main floor, near amain entrance, large enough to create the image of authority. The principal todayat Oak Park, Patrick Edwards, has not lost his status, but his relationship to staff andstudents is clearly different: he is 2f the school community. My first visit illustratedthis most emphatically when, as we toured the school’s primary grades floor,children came from classrooms and literally lined up for hugs and pats on theshoulder; Mr. Edwards knew them by name and spoke to them of recent strugglesand triumphs, and of his pride in those who had grown in some significant way.There was a sense, borne out on successive visits, of easy fluidity in the dailyroutines of this school. Staff relations seemed to be very open. The school seemedto have a built-in spirit of collegiality which, on first acquaintance, indicated greatpotential for success in the program I was there to study. There were severalindicators of this sense of collegiality and ease:102(1) The resource rooms (gym, science room, art room, library) were used ona sign-up basis rather than on a rigid schedule. In emergencies, though, thesebookings were still flexible.(2) The stated community orientation of the school was not mere lip service.I have already mentioned the nutrition room and clothing depot. School staffmembers organized and participated actively in a potluck “volunteer appreciation”dinner, and a multicultural festival (as cooks/dispensers of ethnic food, announcers,ticket sellers).(3) As a regular visitor, I was made welcome without fanfare; I was includedin a staff meeting on the very first day, was invited and chauffeured to eveningactivities, and was included in staff room conversations.(4) Extracurricular activities of the staff included week-long camping tripswith the senior students near the end of the year, and staff social activities like anannual picnic and baseball game with another school.Thus, despite some aggravating conditions beyond the walls of the school,such as prolonged and negative contract negotiations, severe budget cuts, andimpending implementation overload, morale-enhancing strategies were both inevidence and apparently largely effective. Oak Park seemed to be an ideal settingfor the study, not idyllic, by any means, but filled with possibilities.103The ParticipantsThe case under study in this project was the working relationship createdbetween two teachers involved in the Catalyst Teacher Program as a means ofencouraging implementation of a new art curriculum. I assumed that this was a“typical case” in that the two teachers were both generalists, with no special trainingin art to predispose them differently to the new curriculum, and with some of theexpected self-doubts and concerns in the face of both the new curriculum and thepresence of a researcher. I believed that any similar pair of teachers in the citywould present similar characteristics at the outset, but I also recognized that suchother factors as the school atmosphere which I have just described could certainlyaffect uniquely the way events would unfold. This is part of the emergent nature ofany social interaction situation.Of the two participating teachers in this case study, Nancy Cansler was theCatalyst Teacher. Nancy taught Grade One and had over twenty years’ teachingexperience. Her teacher training, outside Saskatchewan, had included a little moreart education than is the case in most Canadian generalist teacher preparationprograms. Nancy’s co-participant was John Dana, the Grade Two teacher “nextdoor” to Nancy. John had nearly ten years’ teaching experience, was trained inSaskatchewan, and had the one art education course (in his case, actually a quartercourse) that seems typical in Canada.Each visit to Oak Park was arranged in advance so that the teachers couldaccommodate the interview time in their schedules and so that there was no overlap104with other demands on their time, such as parent interview days or scheduled fieldtrips.Role of the Researcher“Who the researcher is,” in her own eyes and in the eyes of the participants inthe study, has considerable effect on how the study will progress (Merriam, 1988;Shaffir et al., 1994). This single factor can affect for good or ill the trust theparticipants feel, and therefore the amount and usefulness of information it ispossible to glean. In any kind of field-based research, whether it is participantobservation, interviewing, or receiving and reading journals, the researcher has tonegotiate how she will “be” in the setting, not just at the beginning, but over and overas the project progresses (Merriam, p. 94; Shaffir et a!., p. 49).A range of roles for the researcher has been described, usually in connectionspecifically with participant observation, as complete participant, participant asobserver, observer as participant. and complete observer (Merriam, 1988, p. 93;Shaffir et al., 1994, pp. 44-45). This range obviously deals with just how intimatelythe researcher becomes involved with the lives of those being studied. As these aredescribed by Shaffir, Dietz and Stebbins, my role at Oak Park School would fitbetween “participant as observer” and “observer as participant.” A morecomfortable variant would be “what Gans (1982) calls a researcher participant--one‘who participates in a social situation but is personally only partially involved, so thathe can function as a researcher’ (p. 54)” (Merriam, 1988, p. 93).105As a “researcher participant” at Oak Park, I had the usual need to create afavourable first impression, to gain acceptance:The initial role that is adopted is usually the one that remains fairlypermanent throughout the study and to which successive researchroles are connected. It is this initial role that so dramatically shapesthe field researcher’s self-presentation and the subjects’ reaction tohim or her, thus setting the stage for the kinds of relations that follow(Shaffir et al., 1994, P. 45).Echoing Sanders (1994), “I find that I possess a certain ability to interactcomfortably with a fairly wide range of people” (p. 204). In my initial contact withthe participants, I was careful to be very clear about the purpose of my research, toemphasize my curiosity about the Catalyst Teacher Project and to negate any sensethat my work would be judgmental.My previous experience as an elementary teacher may have given me partial“insider” status, but I believe that was only useful in facilitating my entry. Despitethe ease of the relationship that developed very quickly with the participants andother members of the school staff, I was conscious of exhortations in the literatureto maintain a balance between closeness and distance (e.g. Shaffir et al., p. 41), andof the fact that “no matter how good the researcher becomes at playing roles orhandling relationships. ..he or she is still marginal” (Shaffir et al., p. 32).Another aspect of impression management and maintaining rapport that Iwas aware of and involved in was what Shaffir, Dietz, and Stebbins (1994) call“bargains” (p. 37) and “trade-offs” (p. 46). On my part, these were: (1) promisessuch as no disruption to regular routines, the maintenance of confidentiality, and theopportunity to provide feedback on relevant parts of the final text; (2) offering106useful assistance; and (3) simply recognizing the humanity of the participants bytaking the time to engage in informal chatting about shared life experiences, and byjoining in their extracurricular activities when invited. Routines were honoured byhaving all interview times arranged by the teacher participants, usually during“spare” periods that they sometimes created themselves by taking each other’sclasses. In the area of “useful assistance,” I sent both teachers extra copies of visualresource booklets from my personal library, and at the end of the data-gatheringperiod I taught an art lesson to their two combined classes. I also participated in thegeneral “staffroom life” of the school by noting that various members sporadicallybrought a treat such as doughnuts to share, and doing so during my last visit there.“As much as the researcher may try to ensure that life in the field is orderlyand manageable, the dynamics of field research are unpredictable” (Shaffir et al.,1994, p. 49). This unpredictability is responsible for the emergent, dynamic natureof the research process; it is also responsible for feelings of anxiety in theresearcher. One worries about the inherent ambiguity of the situation, the pacingand flow of the project (Merriam, 1988, p. 95), “how to make sense out of what oneis studying” (Gans, 1982, p. 59, in Merriam, p. 95), and whether the study is of valueat all.A final concern is that of the effect the observer has on the situation. Thereis aneed to be sensitive to the double hermeneutic (or interpretingentities which themselves interpret the worlds they experience). Theobjects (people) that [researchers] study not only interpret otheraspects of their worlds, but also exchange and recast their107interpretations as they interact with others.... [and] try to make senseof researchers’ attempts to study them (Prus, 1994a, p. 20).At Oak Park School, because of its community orientation, there was asteady flow of visitors who were volunteering or observing for a variety of reasons.My presence there was barely noted by the children, as an incident in Nancy’s classwill illustrate (2102/1.35-2.20):Nancy is on supervision, so goes out at 8:45. The bell goes at 8:55.The kids come in, go to their seats, chat quietly, get books. One littlegirl is all dressed up (for their field trip this afternoon?); at one pointshe goes to the carpet at the front and slowly twirls to show off hertiered ruffled skirt. Two or three boys sit on the carpet at the front,sharing a large book and talking... .The kids move loose chairs aroundto sit next to each other at desks.Leslie, the kindergarten teacher, comes in, then stops abruptly,ducking down behind the piano. She thought I was some kind of“official” (i.e. evaluative) observer. Nancy laughs and calls me over foran introduction.***Nancy then leads a “What’s different in the classroom?”discussion. They notice some very small details, mostly related torainbow things, but not me! When Nancy directs their attention to thecomputer corner (where I am sitting), a couple of them sayoffhandedly, “Oh, I saw her.” The morning routine continues after Iam introduced, and the pronunciation of my name checked. I ambasically ignored for the rest of the morning, or am treated as justanother adult helper in the room.I was also treated as a routine visitor by other staff members, thanks to sponsoringaction by the principal who introduced me to everyone in a staff meeting on the dayof my first visit, and by Nancy who mediated and added her assurance to mineregarding the non-judgmental nature of my research. The fact of my visits did, bytheir own admission, make Nancy and John a little more conscious of their artteaching practice, whether a classroom observation was scheduled or not; they felt a108need to have “done something” towards implementation between visits, although insome cases that only meant a small amount of guilt-feeling because they hadj“done something”.In summary, my role as researcher participant made the data collectionphase as comfortable as possible for both me and the two participants. Within theschool, I had complete freedom to move about, observe the physical layout, and talkinformally with staff members outside the participant group.Data CollectionOverviewData collection had two main phases. The first phase, preliminary contact,included an interview with Ministry of Education personnel, obtaining thecurriculum documents, an interview with art consultant Petra Rogers, and myattendance at the orientation workshops in late August 1991. The second phase, thecase study proper, occurred over a six-month period from January 1992 to mid-June1992. There were five visits to Oak Park School, which involved:(1) two joint interviews, and three individual interviews with each teacherparticipant;(2) one art class observation in each teacher’s room;(3) one telephone interview midway through the period with Petra Rogers, the artconsultant;(4) one interview with the principal during the last visit;109(5) one art lesson taught by me during the last visit to Nancy and John’s classescombined;(6) attendance at two evening events, a multicultural festival and a volunteerappreciation dinner.All interviews, including the telephone one, were tape recorded andtranscribed by me. Interview questions (or topics/themes) were loosely framed priorto each visit and, after the first visit, were based on the previous interview and theinitial and cumulative efforts at coding and analysis.InterviewsAn interview is a special kind of conversation: It represents a kind of“contractual agreement” between or among the participants to talk about something,often for a specified length of time, with the aim of sharing information (Werner &Schoepfle, 1987, Ch. 9). The value of the interview as a qualitative data-gatheringtool is that it can get at the unobservable, the covert. It can attempt to uncovermeaning by getting closer to, or inside, the perspective of the other. The interviewcan also bring in and take account of the past, and speculate about the future,relative to the phenomena being discussed (Prus, 1994a, p. 22). “Key features ofsuch ‘conversations’ are their length and diversity. Unhurried, free-flowing talkencourages the emergence of a wide range and many levels of topics, promptingintimate familiarity” (Lofland, 1976, p. 9). Our talk was certainly free-flowing, and110as unhurried as conversations can be in a school during the school day, with clocksand bells still present.Assumptions and conditions. The stance of the interviewer and the type ofinterview are closely related. My stance toward the teachers in this case was thatthey were equal, though different, participants in the construction of joint meaningabout the curriculum implementation project in which they were engaged. Irecognized that I would be regarded as something of an “expert” because of myacademic position, but I worked to counter this by making clear my honest regardfor the teachers as experts in practice, whose knowledge I hoped to gain--in fact, weeach had expertise to share (Kirby & McKenna, 1989, pp. 67-68).Comfort in the interview situation was an important factor in creating anopen, safe, and trusting atmosphere. Some of the interviews took place in thestaffroom (with or without other teachers, or the principal, present. It did not seemto matter to the teacher participants); others took place in the individual teachers’classrooms. The choice of location was the teachers’ and depended on availabilityof space within the school day. In the preliminary contact phase, the interviews withthe consultant and Ministry personnel took place in their offices; the same was truefor the interview with the principal at the end of the data-gathering phase.I was aware that the major benefits of this situation would accrue to me, theresearcher participant, but that there were possible gains for the teacher participantstoo:It is.. .an opportunity for them to tell people something. This in itselfis pleasurable and reinforcing. Moreover, some people enjoy the self-111analysis, the opportunity to clarify their own thoughts andexperiences. Finally, most people are flattered by the interest of asympathetic listener (Merriam, 1988, p. 75).The participant teachers in this case did seem to enjoy the experience of telling methings. They both engaged in thoughtful consideration of their approach to thecurriculum, and indicated that such reflection had been useful for them.Semistructured interviews. The type of interview that I chose to use issometimes called “informal,” or “semistructured” (Merriam, 1988, p. 74), a relativelyopen-ended format. This is necessary if we do not assume or impose pre-set,common meanings for the phenomena under consideration, but rather wish to learnhow the other interprets the world.In a semistructured interview, topics or issues are known in advance, “shapedby prior exchanges between interviewer and respondent” (Mishler, 1986, p. 53).There is no rigid schedule of questions, and both the interviewer and theparticipants can change the direction in response to emerging ideas and topics(Douglas, Roberts, & Thompson, 1988, p. 53; Merriam, 1988, p. 74; Werner &Schoepfle, 1987, p. 293). The amount of control (and therefore power) exercised bythe interviewer is minimal, outside of attending to a general focus for that occasion,and exercising her own right as a participant in the conversation to pursue particularquestions or ideas (Kirby & McKenna, 1989, p. 67).In this case study, the plan for the first interview consisted primarily of “grandtour” questions (Werner & Schoepfle, 1987, p. 319, following Spradley & McCurdy,1972). Such questions “form an important primary data base for further112questioning. These are questions that are both easy to answer and nonthreatening”(Werner & Schoepfle, p. 319). Thus, questions identifying the teachers and theirbackgrounds, their experience with the curriculum in a general way, and broadquestions about the implementation project were planned. This interview gave me agood overall introduction to the two teachers, and a sense of their attitudes towardteaching, the new curriculum, me, and my project.The information and the feelings that I came away with helped me to shapethe focus of the next interview and, more loosely, the general shape of the wholedata-gathering phase. There was, in fact, a progressive focusing that occurredthrough the visits, from the “grand tour” questions of the first interview, to moredetailed examinations of the teachers’ ways of working through the new curriculumand their feelings of success, frustration, and hope.Limitations of Data Collection MethodThe study is, first of all, limited to one case. It is recognized that we cannotassume that the experiences of these two teachers apply in other contexts, includingother relationships within the same school between the catalyst teacher and othercolleagues. But if this case is carefully explicated with detailed description, thepossibility of application in other situations is increased, as is the possibility ofcontribution to theory or tentative hypotheses.Time was the greatest limitation. To begin with, the data collection phaselasted only six months instead of a year. This was because the catalyst teachers were113not identified in the school board until the school year had begun, and recruitmentcould not begin until then. Time pressure in the daily lives of the two teacherslimited how long we could spend in interviews. Each teacher had a very full out-of-school life, and it was implicitly understood from the beginning that interviewswould take place during the school day and, if they went beyond the end of the day,only for a short time.Distance, as a relative of time, also affected the number of visits that could bearranged, since I was separated from the research site by a seven- to nine-hour busride. As well, the demands of my own life prevented me from simply living inBridgeton for the duration of data collection: Family demands can be put “on hold,”but the requirements of a full time teaching position can not, and sabbaticaleligibility does not always coincide with research agendas. The “pictures” built up ofthe case are thus constructed of relatively small “frozen moments,” but at the sametime, because participant observation was not the main research method, theinterviews still provided ample information.My own interests, background, and biases shaped my behaviour asinterviewer and as interactant with the teacher participants, other staff members,and children; my decisions about data collection were continuously influenced bythe evolving relationship with the teacher participants and with the data as Itranscribed, coded, and analyzed.Changes in data collection. The previously mentioned time pressure in theteachers’ own lives influenced my decision during the first interview to eliminate the114request for journal-keeping; I realized that this would be an unwelcome andunrealistic demand that could jeopardize our working relationship at the outset, andso it was never mentioned.My original plan had also been to cariy with me one or two heuristic devicesthat might have helped to make sense of the process the teachers were goingthrough. Those were Leithwood’s Innovation Profiles, and Corbett and Rossman’s“causal network” (both discussed in Chapter II). By the end of the second interview,I felt that these devices were not necessary or useful (at least, not yet). TheInnovation Profile was too prescriptive and was permanently abandoned, and thecausal network became useful again as I sought a framework for synthesizing theteachers’ self-reports in preparation for my final analysis of the interview andobservation data.Later in the process, as I continued to review literature, I added the Levels ofUse scale of Hall and Loucks (also discussed in Chapter II), and used it as a kind ofsumming-up guide for each of the teachers during our last interviews. All thedecisions to abandon or to add elements to the project were made as a result of“living with” the data, reflecting on the implicit meanings conveyed during face-toface encounters with the teachers, and examining my goals in order to plan nextsteps.115Reliability and ValidityQuestions of reliability and validity refer to notions of “truth” or “objectivity”in a study. Merriam quotes Bednarz on the problematic nature of such concepts in aresearch approach that assumes a dynamic and emergent definition of “reality:”If the researcher’s self is the prime instrument of inquiry, and the self-in-the-world is the best source of knowledge about the social world,and social reality is held to be an emergent property of interactingselves, and the meanings people live by are malleable as a basicfeature of social life, then concern over reliability--in the postpositivistsense--is fanciful (Bednarz, 1985, p. 103, in Merriam, 1988, pp. 170-171).Whittaker (1994) notes that rigid demands for replicability are no longer anissue (p. 386). “The questions of meaning and reflexivity. ...replace the old questionsthat concentrated on the reliability of data, or whether reality had been adequatelycaptured” (p. 389). This is not to say that a concern for the dependability ortrustworthiness of research findings is of no relevance. Especially in applied areaslike education, where action may be an intended result of the research, suchcredibility is still crucial (Merriam, 1988, p. 164); the criteria are different.The researcher must attend to practices that will ensure that users andreaders will “concur that, given the data collected, the results make sense” (Merriam,1988, p. 172). One such practice has been alluded to previously: the continuousreflective clarification of the researcher’s own preconceptions, assumptions, andbiases, including the selection of specific research tools (Kirby & McKenna, 1989,p. 44). Clifford and Marcus present an interesting angle on bias or “partiality” inethnographic writing:116The maker.. .of ethnographic texts cannot avoid expressive tropes,figures, and allegories that select and impose meaning as theytranslate it.. ..Even the best ethnographic texts.. .are systems, oreconomies, of truth... .Ethnographic truths are thus inherently partial--committed and incomplete... .But once accepted and built intoethnographic art, a rigorous sense of partiality can be a source ofrepresentational tact (1986, p. 7).This approach to partiality struck a chord as I sifted through the transcripts: Ofcourse a single-case study is an incomplete “truth,” and this study exists because ofmy own partiality in the sense of a growing interest in the potential of collegiality inimprovement efforts.In addition to revealing and reflecting on bias, the researcher can reinforcethe credibility of the work through such strategies as “member checks” (Merriam,1988, p. 169), and triangulation, “using multiple investigators, multiple sources ofdata, or multiple methods to confirm the emerging findings” (Merriam, p. 169). Inthis study, informal member checks occurred on each visit whenever I referred tostatements made on previous visits as a way of situating or contextualizing questionsin the current one. In addition, as the writing developed, relevant sections were sentto the participants for corroboration and correction.One of the main reasons for using triangulation, particularly of datacollection methods, is to ensure a degree of generalizability (Sevigny, 1988, p. 622).The main data collection method in this study was the qualitative interview; it wassupplemented by limited participant observation (one half day in each teacher’sclass, including an art period). Multiple sources of data were also used: Ministry ofEducation personnel, the two teacher participants, the art consultant for the school117board, the principal, other teachers in the school, and the curriculum document anddocuments related to the Teacher Leader Program. These multiple sources andmethods aided in the creation of detailed descriptions and in teasing out categoriesof meaning, though some sources were obviously of more central relevance thanothers.The question of generalizabilitv has always been difficult in qualitativestudies, especially single-case studies. After all, “one selects a case study approachbecause one wishes to understand the particular in depth, not because one wants toknow what is generally true of many” (Merriam, 1988, p. 173, emphasis added).Merriam goes on to ask, “Is generalization from a single case possible? Only...if‘generalization’ is reframed to reflect the assumptions underlying qualitativeinquiry” (p. 174). Some possible ways of reframing the concept, according toMerriam, include the notion of “working hypotheses” (Cronbach, 1975); and that of“reader or user generalizability” (Walker, 1980; Wilson, 1979):(1) Cronbach’s notion of working hypotheses: To reflect the dynamic natureof social life, and the necessity of regarding generalizations as dynamic too,Cronbach says that every new case requires new description and interpretation:“Generalization comes late.. ..When we give proper weight to local conditions, anygeneralization is a working hypothesis, not a conclusion” (Cronbach, 1975, p. 125, inMerriam, 1988, p. 175). This dynamic and cyclical approach is closely related to“grounded theory” (Glaser & Strauss, 1967), with its constant comparison and118theoretical sampling creating a similarly dynamic development of theory.Generalization to a working hypothesis also relates to(2) Reader or user generalizability: Responsibility is shared with the readeror user of the research, who must ultimately decide if and how much the researchapplies to his or her specific situation. Both of these concepts, working hypothesesand reader/user generalizabiity, have an implied practicality, an eye toward futureaction, which is particularly appropriate in the field of educational research. Theuse of detailed description ensures a broad enough data base for readers to makesuch a decision.Analysis of DataWith eleven interviews, there was a large amount of data to be sifted andmined for meaning. Tesch (1987a) refers to the analysis process as one of distillingthe text to its essentials: “We need to break the text into manageable chunks,and...capture what is most important, most prevalent, most essential in thethousands of words dealing with the object of our investigation” (p. 1). Theinterwoven processes of data gathering, analysis and interpretation recommendedby Glaser and Strauss (1967) have the same aim, and begin with the first entry intothe field, in fact, before that, as the researcher carries with her foreshadowed issuesand intended directions to look.Thus, data analysis consisted of reading the data, highlighting key segmentsof text and assigning tentative categories to them. With each successive interview,119the new data were not only coded, but also compared with previous data so thatcategories would be refined, condensed, expanded, all with a view to arriving at apresentation of the essence of the experience under study. As issues became clearerto me through my conversations with the teacher participants, I also read further inthe literature; when I began a final writing of the literature review, the organizationof topics there contributed to some rethinking of the categories I had assigned to“chunks” of data. In this cyclical, interactive way, I was able to arrive at a frameworkwithin which to tell the story of Nancy and John and the implementation of the newcurriculum, and to indicate key findings that might help to illuminate and refinecurrent thinking about collegiality among teachers.It was in thinking about the final interviews that the Levels of Use emergedas a useful tool for helping the teacher participants to describe their own progress.This framework then suggested to me the possibility of returning to the causalnetwork for a means of organizing the conclusions I reached.120CHAPTER VI:THE CURRICULUM AND THE CATALYST TEACHER PROGRAMIntroductionThe first elements in this case provide part of the context of social objectswith which the two teacher participants were interacting: the new art curriculum(particularly the Visual Art strand) and the Bridgeton School Board’simplementation strategy, including the Catalyst Teacher Program. This chapterbegins with information on the curriculum itself: the history of its development, andthe provincial Ministry of Education’s introduction of a strategy to enhanceimplementation (the Teacher Leader Program).The information will be presented from the points of view of a SaskatchewanEducation administrator, a curriculum writer, and an art consultant from Bridgeton,with some reference to actual documents where necessary for clarification. Becausethis material is presented only as a base for consideration of the Catalyst TeacherProgram, interpretive comments are limited to areas relating most directly to theconcerns of the case study.The remainder of the chapter presents a description of the development ofthe Catalyst Teacher Program within the Bridgeton School Board’s implementationstrategy. The main source for this information was Petra Rogers, one of theBridgeton arts education consultants who was a designer of the Catalyst TeacherProgram and who had also been on the provincial Arts Education Curriculum121Advisory Committee (see page 122). The history of this program’s development, itsspecial features, and its underlying rationale are described. I was also able to attendsome of the introductory workshops, and a midterm telephone interview with PetraRogers highlights some of the emerging concerns with the program and theimplementation in general.The New CurriculumIt will be recalled that “the new curriculum” is actually an EducationCurriculum, with strands in Visual Art, Music, Drama, and Dance. Each strandrepresents a complete curriculum in one of the Fine Arts subjects. In the context ofthis study, my use of the term “the curriculum” refers to the Visual Art strand whichwas the focus of the teacher participants during the study. When the entirecurriculum is under discussion, I use “Arts Education Curriculum” or “wholecurriculum” in order to be clear.History of the New CurriculumAs noted in Chapter I, the Arts Education Curriculum was produced withinthe context of province-wide curriculum renewal in Saskatchewan. The processbegan in 1977 with the formation of the Minister’s Advisory Committee on the FineArts in Education. In 1981, that committee published The Fine Arts in Education:Final Report. This document forecasts the curriculum published in 1991 inconsiderable detail (with little subsequent alteration in substantive areas). It122recommends focus on the generalist teacher; arts education as a compulsory coresubject from Kindergarten to Grade Nine; four Fine Arts strands, eachincorporating the three modes (creative/productive, responsive/critical, andhistorical/cultural); a total of 300 minutes per week for the Fine Arts; and acurriculum writing team complemented by an advisory committee with widerepresentation. The only element from this list that changed was the timeallotment: Instead of the recommended 300 minutes, by 1987 arts education wasreduced to 200 minutes per week, including 60 minutes for visual art (SaskatchewanEducation, 1987, p. 9).In 1986, the Arts Education Curriculum Advisory Committee was formed tocomplement the writing team for the Arts Education Curriculum. The writing teamof seven people consisted of a writer for each of the four strands, an advisor onIndian and Métis content, a Grade Nine writer, and a resource librarian. TheAdvisory Committee had approximately 20 members, with representation from theSaskatchewan School Trustees Association; Saskatchewan Teachers’ Federation;League of Educational Administrators, Directors, and Superintendents;Saskatchewan Education; the Universities of Regina and Saskatchewan; andclassroom teachers. The seven regions into which the province is divided each had aRegional Coordinator for Curriculum, who would also be involved at least at thelocal level as a consultant and assistant, and would act as a direct liaison betweenthe writers and the schools (LA, 1006/3.5-10).123Content of the New CurriculumThe Arts Education Curriculum incorporates, as do all new curricula inSaskatchewan, the Common Essential Learnings (Communication, Numeracy,Critical and Creative Thinking, Technological Literacy, Personal and Social Skillsand Values, and Independent Learning) and attends to provincial requirementsregarding Indian and Métis perspectives, gender equity, and resource-basedlearning.Cognitive focus. The Arts Education Curriculum reflects a subject-centred,cognitive view of the arts (Minister’s Advisory Committee, 1981, p. 4), presentedthematically and in the context of living in contemporary Saskatchewan: “Whatwe’re saying in this curriculum is that context is everything. One of our lines isalways ‘Art is ideas,’ [recognizing that there is] a body of knowledge, and a history,and the whole contemporary context” (LA, 1006/15.16-18, 16.17-18). This reflectsone of the major changes identified in the new art curriculum: The previouscurriculum had been materials-based, with a greater focus on developing skills thanon understandings and attitudes. The Minister’s Advisory Committee hadcommented that “present programs.. .lack aesthetic substance and do not givestudents sufficient experience in the responsive or critical processes necessary tounderstanding these forms” (1981, p. 4). The three-component approach in eachstrand addresses that lack.Discipline integrity. While all the Fine Arts are presented in a singlecurriculum document, the four discipline strands are presented discretely,124acknowledging the original recommendation that “curricula.. .be designed to beparallel, rather than integrated, but.. .common concepts which emerge as a result ofthe curricula designing process be identified and used” (Minister’s AdvisoryCommittee, 1981, p. 7).Image of the teacher. The new curriculum recognizes that most elementaryteachers in Saskatchewan have limited arts education backgrounds, and responds tothe original recommendation to “clearly and fully define the content of each artsprogram and link content to sample activities in a highly structured manner, so thatteachers may create or select appropriate experiences for their students” (Minister’sAdvisory Committee, 1981, p. 4). “Highly structured” is not part of the response,however; the curriculum is quite open-ended, allowing for teachers with differentlevels of expertise to use it in ways that fit their own situations.Flexibility. Petra Rogers, who was on the Arts Education AdvisoryCommittee, said that they didn’t want to “nail down” such things as scope andsequence too rigidly: “Let the teachers fit in the foundational objectives when it fitswhat they’re doing” (PR, 0207/5.17-21). The curriculum does have a detailed set offoundational objectives, elaborated for each strand and each grade level, andinformation for teachers on planning from those objectives. As well, sample unitsare included to illustrate the cognitive, context-based approach.Special features. The innovative nature of the curriculum was in the mindsof people from the beginning:Committee members are convinced that the conceptual approach tothe arts is educationally superior to traditional approaches and is the125direction for the future. Should Saskatchewan adopt this direction inall the arts, it will be one of the first jurisdictions in North America todo so (Minister’s Advisory Committee, 1981, p. 5).The shift in content and structure, then, is the first notable feature. A newaspect of the content pointed out by Lynne Allen, a curriculum writer, is what theyhave calledthe art of your own time and place.. .stressing the arts in Saskatchewanand Canada... .What we feel is that people will never see theimportance if they can’t see themselves in it. And the only way youcan see yourself in it is to look at the arts around you, and see whereyou fit; then you can.. .make connections between what’s happeninghere and what’s happening somewhere else or what happened 300years ago (LA, 1006/17.29-31; 18.3-9).Bridgeton art consultant Petra Rogers pointed out that the thematic structure alsolinked the arts positively to changes occurring in curriculum for language arts, suchas Whole Language (PR, 0207/4.16-26).The time allotment is recognized as unusual, too. Although scaled downfrom the original recommendation of 300 minutes per week, 200 minutes per weekis generous: “This is the best we’ve ever had it” (PR, 0207/1.24). The importance ofthe arts is not just stressed, it is demonstrated by the inclusion of all the arts in thecore curriculum to Grade Nine, and the addition of a mandatory fine arts elementfor high school graduation. The fact that students will continue in one of the finearts in high school makes it clearer to elementary teachers that the content of theirarts teaching is now a base on which future learning will be builtFinally, the development process itself was viewed, certainly by some of thecreators and administrators, as noteworthy if not unique in Canada:126You probably are aware that this province is very collaborative innature--I think it’s very different from other provinces.... And we worktogether on this. I think it’s quite unique in Canada that it’s such acollaborative thing. We call them [the curriculum AdvisoryCommittee] our partners, and we really wouldn’t work without them;we need them all.. .like the universities bring different perspectivesthan the teachers do (WK, 1006/29.21-30.9).This extensive collaboration had other possible benefits, pointed out by one of thecurriculum writers: Twenty Advisory Committee members would provide earlyfeedback from the various educational stakeholder groups; and duringimplementation there would be twenty additional advocates around the province(LA, 1006/30.12-27).The strength of this particular kind of collaboration, extensive consultationwith non-teaching members of the educational community, is not acknowledged inall quarters, though. With only three teachers on the Advisory Committee at anyone time, it may have been difficult to hear the voice of the practitioner (PR,0207/4.16-26). A perceived power imbalance in this representation could make itdifficult for teachers to feel a sense of ownership in the development process or inthe curriculum as product of that process. This is actually a typical situation in thecurriculum development process, as the literature reflects: Curricula are generallyregarded by teachers, and rightly, as something imposed from beyond. The mannerof the “imposition” is one area where change is occurring, with a view tocounteracting teachers’ feelings of disenfranchisement.127The Provincial Implementation StrategyThe impetus for strong implementation support came from at least threefactors: (1) the new attention to the importance of the arts, as demonstrated byinclusion in the core curriculum, indicating as well a need to ensure successfulimplementation; (2) the recognition by writers and developers of the notion ofchange as a process, and their support of the need for time and assistance; and(3) the recognition that teachers without sufficient arts backgrounds would needboth resources and assistance in order to feel comfort or ownership with this newmaterial.Sources in the literature of educational change were not referred to directly,as “models” for the implementation strategy, but in response to a telephone inquiry,one of the Regional Curriculum Coordinators remembered references in the early1980s to Joyce, Loucks, and Fullan, without being able to name the specific works(YP, 2006/1.3-7). Thus, some standard literature sources, especially ones supportingpeer-centred improvement activity, were clearly “inspirations” in the early stages ofthe development of this strategy, but the substance of those inspirations was quitedistant from the immediate situation of implementing new curricula.The Teacher Leader ProgramRelationship to the piloting of the curriculum. The Teacher Leader Programdesigned by the Saskatchewan Education team to enhance the implementation ofthe Arts Education Curriculum was originally seen as growing naturally out of the128piloting of the new curriculum. It was this aspect, the “pairing” within schools ofexperienced pilot teachers with colleagues meeting the curriculum for the first time,that had intrigued me. But in my first interview with Ministry personnel, I wasimmediately cautioned that actual ‘peer coaching” would not happen in all cases; itdepended on the pilot teachers (WK, 1006/2.16-67).As it turned out, “not enough of the pilot teachers agreed to be leaders (LA,1006/4.15-16). Piloting the curriculum was one thing; but when it came topresenting material to peers, in effect, declaring oneself as an expert, many of thepilot teachers balked, some because they simply were not committed enough, butmore out of fear: “It’s the most anxiety in a room I’ve ever seen, when they foundout that was what’s going to be expected of them. It was amazing” (WK, 1006/10.29-32).Piloting the curriculum had been a long process in itself: three years by thesummer of 1991. In Year One, the development team field-tested the objectiveswith selected teachers, then ran the first full pilot of the Arts Education Curriculum.This was the largest group of pilot teachers (over 100). At the end of Year One, theteam tried to recruit pilot teachers as Teacher Leaders, and this was when the shockoccurred, as many pilot teachers opted out.Year Two saw another pilot set up especially for a new group of teachers,with the specific aim of recruiting teacher leaders, “and this time, if they wereparticipating in the pilot, they had to agree right at the beginning that they weregoing to be Teacher Leaders” (LA, 1006/12.26-30). Then, in Year Three, all the129existing pilot teachers were brought together, but with more last-minute additionsfrom school boards that felt their size required more trained people.The range of experience during the pilot process, then, varied from “peoplethat are familiar with all four strands, and the whole year’s work, [to] people that arefamiliar with one unit in one strand” (LA, 1006/13.14-17). Add to that “a fewTeacher Leaders who were not pilots: people who were identified as having strongleadership skills, that were...brought on at the last minute” (LA, 1006/4.11-14), andthe range of experience with the new curriculum brought to the Teacher LeaderProgram by its recruits extended from “full” to “zero.”The need for implementation support was pointed up during the pilotingstage, when feedback from pilot teachers is usually expected to be concerned withmatters of content. This was not the case with the Arts Education Curriculum:Feedback was mostly on “implementation concerns--things that I would say impedeimplementation” (LA, 1006/24.21-23, emphasis added).Content and structure of the Teacher Leader ProgramThe binder. The Teacher Leader Program is represented in concrete form in“the binder:” 146 pages in the general Arts Education Leadership InserviceMaterials (Saskatchewan Education, 1991b) and, for visual arts, another 87-pagedocument (Saskatchewan Education, 1991c). The Teacher Leader Program is a“canned package.. .we’ve provided a binder, we’ve modelled the binder for them at a130workshop, and then they will deliver, over a really wide geographical area, thisbinder, exactly what’s in the binder” (WK, 1006/2.18-22).In the binder are all the materials and “scripts” needed to present an inserviceon the Arts Education Curriculum or on a specific strand, such as visual art. Forexample, the most commonly asked questions in each strand are presented, withpossible answers. Originals for handouts and overheads are included, and their useis indicated at specific places. There are worksheets for some of the group activities.Objectives for each work session are clearly laid out for presenters and participantsalike; closure and evaluative feedback are provided for as well.Flexibility. While, on the whole, this “canned package” is fairly rigid, roomwas left for some flexibility of approach. The binder was purposely set up inmodules: manageable “chunks” to accommodate the variety of ways that differentschool boards would make use of it. This allowed the training program to beadapted to the number of available inservice days that school boards elected to usefor Arts Education. There was, as well, a school-based component that wasdeveloped locally with the help of the Regional Curriculum Coordinator. Again,attention was being paid to the context in which the curriculum would be taught.Teacher leaders received this training themselves, the “modelling” of thebinder. They were seconded to the Ministry for ten days of the school year, and onthose days they would travel in their particular region, leading workshops, usually inteams of two (and with the presence and assistance of the Regional CurriculumCoordinator). Workshops were intended to be presented on two strands at a time in131most cases; again, flexibility allowed for local adaptations and choices. IndividualTeacher Leaders would also be able to adapt the materials to their personal stylesand experience backgrounds.The timetable for implementation reflected the view of implementation as aprocess: It was expected to take at least three years from the fall of 1991, the timewhen most schools were assumed to be starting to use the new curriculum. Theactual “use” of the curriculum in the classrooms was expected to be quite varied,with teachers implementing anywhere from one to four of the strands: “they can dowhatever they want.. .to get comfortable with it” (WK, 1006/13.27-28). This three-year plan meant that evaluation would also be delayed:That was one of the things that we were really firm about... that wedon’t want the evaluation to occur one year after our inservice,because of what we believe, particularly about arts education, maybemore than any other subject area in the core curriculum, is that it’sgoing to take a long time before we see any success (LA, 1006/18.24-32).The intent of the evaluation was altered, too, for Arts Education: “Our programevaluation is three years from now, and the intent of that, really, is to just givefeedback for us to adjust the curriculum” (WK, 1006/19.3-5). The scope of allowableadjustments was, at that time, still ambiguous.Additional support. Beyond “the binder” and its implicit support toclassroom teachers in their implementation efforts, Saskatchewan Education alsogave material support to the new Arts Education Curriculum. In the visual artstrand, a slide set of works by Saskatchewan artists was given to every school.Similar resource packages, including sound tapes and kits, were provided in each of132the strands. An “Arts Awareness” video was produced to be used as an introductionand advocacy aid, not only with teachers but also with school boards and parentgroups. “How-to” videos were produced in dance and drama. In addition to thematerials given directly to the schools, Teacher Leaders were encouraged to workwith their colleagues to be assertive about the allocation of resource grants withintheir schools, in order to obtain more of the recommended resources and necessarymaterials.Summary. While the curriculum document is not as “highly structured’ in itsinstructions for teachers as the original Minister’s Advisory Committeerecommended, the Teacher Leader Program, through its “binder,” provided adefinite structure and sequence for training teachers in the use of the newcurriculum. The structure was not completely rigid; some flexibility was possible inthe way the modules were presented, and more experienced and confident TeacherLeaders could expand on the contents as they saw fit. A three-year implementationtimetable meant that premature evaluation, in an official sense, would not takeplace. The Teacher Leader Program was supplemented by direct material supportand encouragement to seek the acquisition of other recommended materials andaids.PersonnelAs has been noted, there was unexpected difficulty in recruiting TeacherLeaders for implementation of the new curriculum. Originally, the team had133assumed they would have to use specialists, because they anticipated reluctancefrom generalist teachers with limited backgrounds: “One of the fundamental[difficulties] with having generalists deliver something like this, is that. can’treally say lack of respect [for the “knowledge” aspect of the new curriculum] becausethat’s not fair to them, but it is based on lack of understanding” (LA, 1006/16.19-24).But there was immediate opposition from the Regional Curriculum Coordinators,who saw the power imbalance implicit in such a decision:If you hire consultants to do this implementation, the classroomteachers’ll just say, “Well, there you go, you had to hire a consultant todo this so that means I definitely can’t do it in my classroom.” If theycan see someone from their own school or someone who teachesdown the road, saying “I did this for two years and, yes, you can do it,”it would be more likely to succeed (LA, 1006/9.27 - 10.3).As a result of this opposition, most of the Teacher Leaders were generalists,which also reflected the situation in most of the schools in Saskatchewan. Theanticipated reluctance appeared, alterations had to be made to the pilot program,and the highly detailed Teacher Leader binders were a final attempt to cover everypossible contingency. There was some degree of success in these procedures: Afterfive full days of inservice with the prospective Teacher Leaders, the anxiety level wasgreatly reduced; teachers were even enthusiastic. They had been “turned around;”and the binder itself was credited with building confidence (WK & LA, 1006/10.22-32). This “conversion” would, it was believed, extend to the classroomteachers in time, too, as belief follows action in the process (Fullan, 1991, p. 91):“They don’t really understand [how the new curriculum is different], and they won’tuntil they actually see it. ..see the results in the students” (LA, 1006/14.26-28).134The image of the Teacher Leaders implicit within the program evolved frommentors with some degree of experience, if not expertise: able teachers willing toundertake a new challenge and to share it with colleagues. The binder became theultimate source of knowledge, the guarantor of efficacy, for many teachers. It hadbeen recognized by the end of the pilot period that there were some TeacherLeaderswho felt particularly comfortable moving away from that binder, andwould be prepared to act as a peer coach. But we have other TeacherLeaders who, I think, will only be secure delivering exactly what we’vegiven them and won’t want to go beyond that (LA, 1006/3.12-17).The notion of the Teacher Leaders as “catalysts”--people in the schools whoenhanced other teachers’ implementation efforts--was discussed during theinterview with Wynona Knowles and Lynne Allen:When you talk about catalysts, I see catalysts as being somebody reallywho would go into the classroom and work with that person.. .andthese people aren’t. They’re going to be in sessions where there willbe a bunch of other people with them... .They won’t really be in theclassroom doing down-to-earth things (WK, 1006/7.20-27).The image that I held, and communicated, was of someone who “talks it up” in thestaffroom, who encourages colleagues to go to inservice education activities andparticipate in the training program, who is excited about the resources that areavailable.The differences in our images of “catalysts” perhaps indicates, as well,differences between the ideal and the real function of the Teacher Leader Programas designed by the Saskatchewan Education team, and between the Teacher LeaderProgram and the version adapted in the urban school board where I ultimately135chose to conduct my study. The Teacher Leader Program was conceived primarilyfor smaller, and rural, school boards that did not have the consultant support thaturban boards were more likely to have; a large geographical area had to be coveredbut still with an eye to economy. The Catalyst Teacher Program that I examinedwas contained within a single, large school board in one urban centre, withconsultant support and centralized resources that were easily accessible toclassroom teachers. With smaller distances to cover, consultants could easilymonitor and assist the implementation process, and the larger teacher population inthis same area meant greater possibilities for networking and working together inmutually supportive ways.Whatever the implementation strategy adopted, the curriculum itself wasviewed very positively by the developers: “I feel really confident about thecurriculum... .We’ve rewritten it a number of times, and I feel really confident thatwhat we’ve got on paper is right” (LA, 1006/19.11-14). This confidence was echoedin the fact that pilot teachers’ concerns focused on logistics rather than on problemsgrappling with new subject matter. Developers also expressed awareness that it wasnot necessarily the content of the innovation to be implemented; it was the means ofimplementation that would be crucial to the success or failure of the innovation:Maybe people are going to learn in 20 years’ time that if you reallybelieve in your curriculum then you’ve got to put a whole bunch ofmoney and time into implementation--and we’ve gone leaps andbounds, but it still isn’t far enough... .But I think this one, theimplementation plan itself has gone farther than most others (LA,1006/19.17-27).Bridgeton, however, went one step farther.136The Bridgeton Implementation StrategyThe Bridgeton School Board, a large urban board with ample centraladministrative and support services, responded to the new Arts EducationCurriculum by carefully considering it in the context of the time of its arrival, othercircumstances within the board, and the clear messages from the provincial levelregarding the increased importance of the arts in education. The board’s decision tosupport the implementation of this curriculum was indicated first by the hiring in1989 of a second arts education consultant, Petra Rogers. With two people in theboard office, the four strands were divided between them, with Petra Rogershandling art and drama, and Ann Williams handling music and dance (PR, 0207/1.18-27).The Plan’s Focus: Awareness. Inservice, ResourcesThe Bridgeton context. The consultant responsible for visual art, and my“sponsor into the system, Petra Rogers also served briefly as a key informant.Through her I learned about all the player groups that would interact in theimplementation strategy devised in Bridgeton: the Board and its committees, theprincipals, teachers (including pilot teachers and eventually Catalyst Teachers), andthe curriculum document itself as it was viewed by these actors. In our firstinterview in July of 1991, Petra shared with me a richly detailed verbal account ofthe development of the implementation strategy leading up to the Catalyst TeacherProgram.137Petra Rogers had been on the provincial Arts Education AdvisoryCommittee since 1986, and so had a good grasp of the content of the wholecurriculum and the Teacher Leader Program. This intimate knowledge about thenew curriculum now had to be applied to the context of the Bridgeton school board.Petra had taught there for several years, so she was aware of its tradition ofcollaborative planning.In the first year of Petra’s tenure, the new Science curriculum was beingintroduced, so the two arts education consultants “basically didn’t 12 too much inthe way of implementation” (PR,0207/1.29); it was business as usual in the kinds ofsupport they gave classroom teachers, while they began the process of planning forimplementation.Petra was confident that the new curriculum itself was a valuable and neededchange (PR, 0207/7.25-27), at last recognizing the call in arts education theory forcontent-based approaches to teaching (PR, 0207/11.9-10). It was also an extremelybulky document; its physical unwieldiness alone would daunt any teacher. Thus, theconsultants’ task involved communicating their perception of the value of this newcurriculum to the principals and to teachers, and developing an implementationstrategy that would ensure success.The focus of planning from the beginning was “awareness, inservice, andresources and materials” (PR, 0207/9.22-24). Petra’s work on the AdvisoryCommittee, and her proximity in the board office to people who were working inother curriculum development areas, contributed to this focus and its similarity to138the phases stressed in the provincial implementation strategy. As well, during thisplanning stage, Petra was doing a great deal of personal research on change theory,looking at such things as facilitating factors (PR, 0207/2.5-7). It was clear thatconsiderable support needed to be developed for all the participants in this project,beginning with a more lengthy introduction or “awareness-building” phase prior tothe arrival of the curriculum.Awareness: Principals. “Awareness” began with the principals, autonomousdecision-makers within their own schools (PR, 0207/2.11-12). Their consent wouldbe needed before the plan could proceed, so plans in this area had to recognize theconcerns and conditions laid out by the principals. Aside from the characteristics ofthe curriculum itself (sheer size, and major change in approach) there werecharacteristics of the teachers’ world in Bridgeton that were pointed out by theprincipals: Arts Education following directly on the heels of Science and the firstuse of the Common Essential Learnings; external pressures on teachers because ofnegative contract negotiations; high social needs in many schools requiring teachersto be, in the words of a colleague of Petra’s, “social architects” more than teachers(PR, 0207/6.24-7.6).With their teachers already under so much pressure, the principals insistedthat they would not buy into another implementation plan at that time unless somemeasure of success could be guaranteed. AndI think we came darn close to losing the whole thing--except the Boardhad a commitment to do it... .The principals use their own judgmentand if they can assess the climate in their schools and figure139something’s not going to be positive for the people there in the school,they’ll say so (PR, 0207/7.15-21).But Petra responded to this threat: “Well, this is stupid. This is a good program, it’sjust what kids need, and we’re going to lose it because of external factors that arebeyond our control” (PR, 0207/25-27). Hence her research on facilitating factors.Awareness: “Selling” the plan. A recurring image that Petra used whentalking about this first crucial group of stakeholders was one of “selling:” “I felt alittle bit like an insurance salesman, because I would [telephone a principal andj say,‘We’ve got this, can I come and see you?” (PR, 0207/2.15-17). The principals’requirement for the implementation plan was that it be “a way of soft-selling this--and that’s the wrong word--but it j the right word!” (PR, 0207/7.22-24).The implementation strategy for Bridgeton, then, developed with theseconditions in mind:The principals said: “contain the initiative, make it practical forteachers, use incremental tactics, make sure it’s not an add-on, give usclassroom-level support, and give the teachers some time” (PR, 0207/9.1-4).Part of the “soft sell” also included offering art awareness inservices, “eitherhalf-day or as little as 20 minutes at a staff meeting, whatever the principal decided”(PR, 0207/2.10-12). These took place in the second year, 1990-91, as a kind of leadup to the introduction of the new curriculum for fall of 1991.The principals were the major players in the “chain of feedback” throughwhich the implementation plan went in the form of proposals and revisions. The“path” of the plan went as follows: (1) to the consultants’ immediate superintendents140for approval; (2) to the Board’s advisory committee on curriculum, with feedbackand a resultant reworking; (3) to the curriculum section (other subject areaconsultants) for comments; (4) to an ad hoc committee of principals established byone of the superintendents (with feedback from pilot teachers added in here);(5) development of a budget for the principals’ group; (6) “simulations” for theprincipals for three types of school: small, middle-sized, and large. This detailedpath, with several rewrites, ensured that the plan passed all the necessaryadministrative levels (PR, 0207/11.13-12.3). And “the principals were really, really,thrilled. They gave us a standing ovation at the principals’ meeting when wepresented the plan” (PR, 0207/12.5-7).Awareness: Teachers. The population of elementary teachers in Bridgetonhad a similar makeup to that across Saskatchewan, in that the majority weregeneralists, with limited arts backgrounds. This did not mean, though, that teacherswould not be able to teach the new curriculum: “There are people out there thatcould run with this program” (PR, 0207/7.3 1).Some of those “people out there” had become pilot teachers in a reorganizedpilot of the Arts Education Curriculum that was set up when Petra joined the Boardteam. The original pilot had been “a total dismal failure. It wasn’t the program; itwas other obstacles, various reasons that teachers couldn’t manage it” (PR, 0207/3.7,14-17). Petra chose not to elaborate on these factors, but it was clear that they wereall being addressed in the new plan. For the new pilot,we got these pilot teachers going, and gave them more support than Ithink any pilot teachers have ever got before. But I handpicked the141pilot teachers which, in theoiy, they tell you you shouldn’t. But what Ineeded was some keen people with credibility in the system, and...master teachers, and...people with leadership qualities (PR, 0207/3.18-25, emphasis added).Reflecting the general teacher population, the six pilot teachers “didn’t have arts edbackgrounds; they were.. .interested in it, though, and did very credible things intheir classrooms” (PR, 0207/3.34-4.1). It was these six teachers who providedfeedback on the use of the curriculum in their classrooms to correlate with theprincipals’ concerns about the implementation plan.Petra and Ann were concerned that the implementation plan shouldmerely address the lowest common denominator. They identified three groups ofteachers, early, middle, and late adopters, and recognized from the outset that “late”adopters might be -adopters: for example, people who were only a year or twofrom retirement (PR, 0207/7.32-8.2).So if we realize that, and we realize there’s a bunch of people outthere that are really keen on getting their hands on the program, andafter they worked with Ann and I they were quite excited about thepossibilities. Then let’s provide something for everybody. We cameup with a plan with a minimum and maximum participation, toempower the teacher to use the program to the extent that they feelcomfortable, and become involved to the extent they feel comfortable.And that way we’ll hook a lot of the people that are really keen, andthey’ll get excited, and hopefully this will spread (PR, 0207/8.3-13).In a pre-implementation survey of teachers in Bridgeton, for which only a fewresponses had arrived at the time of our interview, Petra found that teachers’concerns about the introduction of a new arts education curriculum focused mainlyon logistics: “Philosophically, they had no problem with the whole thing. But theymentioned time, money, resources, education. ..exactly what we thought” (PR, 0207/14213.10-12). This concern has a familiar ring: it corresponds in part to Doyle andPonders’ “practicality ethic” (1977). There is also an echo of the theory/practicedichotomy. At a time when the new curriculum was only a future challenge, anytheoretical or philosophical understanding, let alone concern, was seen as superficialand, for a time at least, irrelevant. First of all, çp, it be done, andh can do it?Teachers’ first concerns were with integrating the new material into their existingpractice. The Bridgeton implementation strategy’s three elements were designed toaddress that need for practical supportAwareness: The introduction. The final “awareness” component was a half-day workshop for all the Kindergarten to Grade Five teachers in the board, in lateAugust of 1991. As the principals had already pointed out, the climate for teachersin Bridgeton at that time was stressful, so Petra’s aim in planning for theintroductory workshop was to make it comfortable for the teachers, and to allowthem to find their own entry into the new curriculum (PR, 0207/8.7-11).The August 1991 workshop began the crossover from “awareness” to“inservice,” as teachers were presented with their first look at the curriculum, anoverview of the rationale and content, and then moved into practical activitiesrelated to each of the four strands. It had been decided early that for this workshopthe teachers would assemble in grade-alike groups to allow for networking and apractical focus from the beginning (PR, 0207/ 13.22-24).Preparation for this workshop began well ahead of time: the provincialTeacher Leader orientation “package” was modified for the occasion. In order to143cover all the locations and to have a good facilitator-teacher ratio, a group of twelveto fourteen people was needed. Petra and Ann trained the pilot teachers, othersubject area consultants, and some principals to augment the training team.In comparing the Bridgeton inservice plans to the Teacher Leader program,Petra noted that “we don’t have as much time as they’re taking. We can’t take ourteachers out--I think they’re using four half-days; we’ve got two this year and two theyear after” (PR, 0207/15.19-22). The modifications were necessary, Petra said, forseveral reasons: Specifically, they wanted to have closer contact between classroomteachers and developers of the plan. Hence the large-group gatherings, in whichproximity might also help to build and sustain enthusiasm.I attended two of the sessions, which Petra chaired, on the morning andafternoon of August 23, 1991. They were tautly organized, efficient, yet conductedwith an air of expectancy and camaraderie. The whole-group introduction was livelyand brief, with just enough information to set the scene. Small groups hadopportunities to go through example activities that linked two or more strands andwere keyed to objectives in the curriculum, all conducted by one of the trainedfacilitators. Important new aspects, viewing and listening processes (see AppendixB for the Viewing Process), were taught with sample materials from therecommended resources. Resources were available for examination; the principalswho were present reassured teachers that the school budgets could sustain theiracquisition.144I was present as just another participant and was not introduced to the group.When it was feasible I did drift from group to group, and never heard negative orfearful mutterings or even observed people hanging back from participating.Perhaps it was only that sense of anticipation that always seems to accompany thefirst gatherings heralding the new year, but the teachers definitely appeared to sharethe enthusiasm of the facilitators. For example, we collaborated merrily in recallingand then retelling “The Three Billy Goats Gruff,” developed visual images, andeventually created and performed a trolls’ dance as we learned integrated ways ofinterpreting this story through the arts.The Arts Education Curriculum had not been printed at the time of theworkshop, but Saskatchewan Education had arranged to provide the Bridgetongroup with camera-ready copy of selected passages, so the teachers received a highlycondensed sample. Each grade-alike group also received four sample units, each ona theme that related to themes in the new Science curriculum, with work in each ofthe four fine arts strands.Inservice plans. The teacher training component of the implementationstrategy involved two inservice programs per year over the two years to which theBoard had committed. The August introductory workshop was the first for YearOne; in January of 1992 a second half-day was planned, during which four moresample units would be handed out. The content of these future workshops was opento allow for response to current concerns and issues.145Training support for teachers was not the only inservice that was designedwithin this strategy. Teacher librarians in each school, who were crucial elements inthe “materials and resources” component of the strategy, received extra trainingorganized by their central office consultants. Principals would also be receivingextra sessions: “So that all along we’ve supported all these people that are in theschool supporting the teachers” (PR, 0207/18-24).Materials and resources. In addition to the support personnel, the consultantteam worked to ensure that schools were aware of the existence and importance ofthe resources provided and recommended by Saskatchewan Education. Theyreproduced the provincial list and flagged top-priority items to be purchased in thefirst year; with the help of an intern, an inventory was prepared of all the resourcematerials in the central office.The important recognition of the teachers’ practical concerns wasdemonstrated by the development of sample units. These units were intended toprovide immediate concrete assistance, but with enough flexibility for teachers toapply them as they saw fit, and with support for the newly-introduced Sciencecurriculum. This last aspect was in response to another concern expressed by theprincipals: “Don’t drop Science and move to something else now!” (PR, 0207/17.23-24).A team of about fifteen writers was gathered to work on science-related artsunits. Some were pilot teachers, some were Whole Language teachers, almost allwere, again, generalists who “didn’t necessarily have arts ed backgrounds, but they146had some good ideas” (PR, 0207/17.33-36). A format for the units was designed byPetra and Ann, to include: (1) major objectives from the curriculum; (2) links toScience; (3) time frame, space and resources required; (4) evaluation; and(5) integration of the Common Essential Learnings (PR, 0207/18.1-6, 12-14, 19-21).Then Petra went through each unit and keyed all the activities to relevant slides inthe set provided by Saskatchewan Education and to activities in Art is Elementary,one of the required resource books. Each unit contained “about three or fourweeks’ work in all [arts education] areas. The areas are separate, but they’reconnected by the central theme” (PR, 0207/19.20-22).When teachers received the next four units in January, they would basicallyhave received a whole year’s work, with a consistent focus, and they wouldn’t have todo anything else. The intent was to plan the sample units with links to Science in thefirst year, and to produce more in the second year but with links to Language Arts,since that was the next new curriculum on the horizon. This was an interesting wayto tackle the one-year mentality that has been common with new curricula:Implement in the first year, or forget about it; j4 forget about it the next year thatsomething new is added. These links maintain the importance of all the newcurricula and provide some continuity for the teachers as they work to incorporateall of them.One of the concerns in preparing generalist teachers to use the newcurriculum was in the area of technical support. In the sample units and in thecurriculum itself, “we don’t go into detail... .If it says ‘use printmaking,’ we don’t say147how to do it” (PR, 0207/20.19-21). Sources for this technical support wereconsidered, though. In the visual arts, Petra had contacted high school teachers whocould give brief technical demonstrations as needed; as well, weekly inservices wereplanned for the second half of the year, for people who had no skill in a particularmedium or process.Finally, the human resource of the consultants was available to teachers.Each school was given an assigned number of consultant days, with a schedule, sothat teachers could be prepared for the visit. “Substitute relief’ funds were availableso that teachers could be freed up to confer with the consultant. The purpose ofthese visits was clarified in advance as much as possible without becoming rigid:“For instance, we’re not prepared to just provide release for teachers; they actuallyhave to i2 something” (PR, 0207/21.7-12). “Doing something” could be participatingin a demonstration session by the consultant, working on lesson plans, teaching forthe consultant, and so on.Catalyst TeachersEven though the consultants were travelling to the schools to provide supportand encouragement to teachers, they recognized that it was not quite enough. Thisis why the ideal of the Teacher Leader Program, peers “bringing the word,” wastaken farther in Bridgeton. The main problem with itinerant facilitators, whetherTeacher Leaders or central office consultants, is that they are itinerants and may notbe present at crucial times. As writers such as Fullan (1991), House (1974), and148Walters (1987) have stressed, it is face-to-face contact, on a daily basis, that supportsthe implementation of innovations. And this contact is advocacy for the innovation,by example and by direct teaching.“Cheerleaders.” I did not see any written description of the Catalyst Teacherelement of Bridgeton’s implementation strategy, but the purpose was made clear tome by Petra Rogers. The Catalyst Teacher Program was built into theimplementation strategy in order to have, in eveiy school, at least one classroomteacher who was committed to the implementation and who was willing, as aminimum, to model that commitment and enthusiasm, to encourage colleagues intheir efforts at implementation, and to act as a liaison between her school staff andthe consultants. The telling image used by Petra Rogers was “I figure you needcheerleaders more than you need anything else” (PR, 0207/3.29-30).The Catalyst Teachers were not to be formally charged with a kind ofmentoring role in which they could be perceived as experts. The notion voiced byWynona Knowles of “teachers teaching teachers” does not quite apply to thisproject. Instead, it is a case of teachers encouraging teachers within a looselydefined structure. The status imbalance would be less perceptible in such astructure: The benefits offered to Catalyst Teachers did not raise them far abovethe daily implementation struggles of their colleagues, and their extraresponsibilities probably outweighed the benefits in many people’s eyes.Recruitment and training of Catalyst Teachers. At the time of my firstinterview with Petra Rogers, the Catalyst Teachers had not yet been selected. They149were waiting until after the August introductory workshop, but had prepared a “listof kinds of people they should be” (PR, 0207/ 21.33-35). Petra and Ann wereconcerned that the principals, who would actually be recruiting the CatalystTeachers in their schools, identify people with characteristics similar to the pilotteachers: “Somebody that’s got credibility with the staff; somebody that could be agood person to spread the word” (PR, 0207/22.7-10). Catalyst Teachers would alsohave to be, it seemed clear, people with the initiative and stamina to manage theirown efforts at implementation while supporting and encouraging their colleagues.Once identified, the Catalyst Teachers would be given extra training sessions.The consultants also planned to “have them in, and work with them, and try to clearup problems... .We can communicate with them, as the administrative team and theCatalyst Teacher” (PR, 0207/22.11-17). The extra training was seen as the mainbenefit, “so if you’re really keen about this program, then the logical thing would beto become a Catalyst Teacher” (PR, 0207/22.29-3 1).The that the Catalyst Teachers were expected to play was open-ended:“They can.. .translate the job any way they want. Their job is to be supportive’ (PR,0207/22.15-16). Some principals, perhaps those with larger staffs, supported theidea of the Catalyst Teachers to the extent of asking to have two or more designatedin their schools, to increase the amount of personal contact possible.Summary. At the beginning of the 199 1-92 school year, then, the BridgetonSchool Board had introduced all its elementary teachers to the aims and content ofthe new arts education curriculum. Resources were, for the most part, in place; the150first four locally-created sample units were in every teacher’s hands; and principalswere in the process of recruiting Catalyst Teachers.Midyear: Progress Report or Reality Check?A telephone interview with Petra Rogers in March 1992 revealed sometypical aspects of implementation as a process rather than an event: a kind of“slump” followed by renewed interest and growth; tensions between ideals andreality; impatience.The implementation in general. My first question to Petra was, “In your faxyou said ‘This process is really slow slugging.’ Obviously it’s different from what youexpected--or did you expect it to be as slow as it is?” (CM, 2003/1.3-5). Petraresponded,I think we expected it to be slow, but. ..what you’re preparing yourselffor, and what’s real, are two different things--and, in the middle of it,you can’t see the forest for the trees. I find we’re tending to dwell onthe negative and to have a hard time focusing on the positive (PR,2003/1.6-11).This sense of discouragement reflected what Fullan (1991) suggested as anatural part of the cycle: “As for increased competence on the job--anotherincentive--it is more likely that our competence actually decreases during firstattempts at trying something new” (p. 318). Fortunately, that “slump” had actuallyoccurred just around Christmas. By March, when Petra thought further, things wereactually better: “People seem to be more interested.. .And a lot more people arepaying attention. Some people go ‘Wow, I tried this, or I tried that.’ People are151becoming more aware; it’s almost like it’s taken eight months to sink in” (PR,2003/7.3-4, 8.28-31).Even the consultants, who knew the theory of change, had difficultycontaining their impatience to see results, and to rush to assess:We know change is a slow process. You know, you can read as muchliterature as you want, but when you actually try it, that’s a wholedifferent thing. And I, at this moment, can’t measure how successfulwe’ve been... .What do you measure? Do you measure it just by thepeople that are using the materials; do you measure it by the successteachers are feeling (PR, 2003/2.6- 13)?The same need to see progress was communicated to me by the teacherparticipants at Oak Park School, and I shared this with Petra:Although it’s early for concern about measuring success, you can see itin the teachers being apologetic for not being very far along. And yet,what I saw them doing... .I’m sure I would never have seen them do ifthey hadn’t been working towards this whole new approach (CM,2003/ 2. 17-21)!If theory and reality clashed in the consultants’ experience of the changeprocess, the tension was heightened when they considered the teachers’ progress.Despite acknowledging (1) the need for time, (2) the fact that a shift in belief wasrequired for the teachers to accept the premises of the new curriculum, and (3) theneed for concrete assistance as a first step, Petra saw her “hardest job [as] to still flogthe philosophy.... [the teachers] really are product-oriented” (PR, 2003/1.5, 13). So,while the teachers were working at a very concrete level, trying out new activitiesand developing their teaching skills in an unreflective way, Petra was voicingconcerns about the lack of lesson plans and objectives, of theoretical structureunderlying their teaching.152The teachers, on the other hand, were expressing their own concerns as theynegotiated their way through the curriculum, and these concerns focused onprofessional efficacy: “People feel like they have to be experts before they can trysomething [in the classroom]. That must be the teacher in them” (PR, 2003/2.42-3.1). Petra wryly added that when she suggested that they just plunge in and learnwith the children, “they look at you scandalized....But then, you know, I getrevelations, like when I show them how: ‘Oh, I could do that!’ and I say, ‘Yeah, Iknow you can” (2003/3.3-4, 12-13).The January workshop was received very positively by teachers, and itfocused entirely on hands-on skill sessions. There were eight different workshopstations, and school staff members were asked to distribute themselves among themso that they could share the new skills among themselves back at their own schools.This is where the flexibility of plans for the continuing inservice workshops isimportant: That need was recognized and addressed.Catalyst Teachers’ progress. Early indications seemed to be more positiveoverall regarding the Catalyst Teachers’ own implementation efforts. Petraremarked, “I think they’re ahead of the others. They might even understand better,but not take action. Most of them have a handle on it.. .and they’re trying things, andthey’re the ones that’ll phone me” (PR, 2003/8.39-9.3). Speaking specifically aboutNancy Cansler, Petra observed thatshe’s taken on things that she didn’t realize she could do, and is quiteamazed with herself. But she’s got sort of a resilience to her thatother people would never put themselves in that position.. ..she has a153sense of humour about her that other people don’t have (PR, 2003/2.22-25, 39-40).Some less positive factors had emerged that had not been considered inadvance: The loose role definition meant that in some schools, it was not theCatalyst Teacher who defined his or her own role:They’re the ones that get stuck making schedules and doing all thedirty work which I didn’t see as their job, but some principals surejumped onto that fast, and just gave all the responsibility to them. Insome cases, though.. .the Catalyst Teacher wants to change things butthe principal’s in control. So that was an angle I guess I never thoughtabout (PR, 2003/9.5-11).However, the relationship between the Catalyst Teachers and the consultantshad been maintained solidly. This was, perhaps, because the consultants’ own workpressures, particularly their extremely heavy school visit schedule, made themsympathetic to the pressures under which Catalyst Teachers were working:The people that had volunteered to do this were taking it, evidently,very seriously. But then we had all these stressed-out people. So wesaid, Ann and I, “Let’s not swamp them.” So we gave them a Danceinservice, and we’d talk to them and we’d go out there andacknowledge (PR, 2003/ 9.34-40).The consultants decided to wait until the Catalyst Teachers asked for extra sessions.They were reluctant to ask these teachers to attend after-school sessions, fearingthat it might alienate them. So it was not until February that, at a rare after-schoolmeeting for a problem-solving session, the Catalyst Teachers as a group agreed thatthey were ready for more training: “Now they’ve asked for more meetings so we cansit around and talk to each other, and support each other, and they’ve asked for154more training. So that now opens the door where we can continue to work withthem” (PR, 2003/10.9-11).Why were the Catalyst Teachers ready now for more training? I speculatedthat there might be a link between the rising interest among classroom teachers ingeneral and the Catalysts’ need to “keep up;” Petra agreed and added that theCatalysts had also progressed in their own implementation efforts to the pointwhere “they find that they’ve done things that are more successful, and they’regetting a little more confident” (PR, 2003/10.15-17).Plans for the further training of Catalyst Teachers were moving carefully.The plans included “two more half-day inservice sessions, and then I guess we’ll setup an after-school meeting and see who shows up” (PR, 2003/10.18-20). An effortwas being made not to “swamp” the Catalyst Teachers.SummaryThe implementation strategies designed by the provincial team and theBridgeton team were similar in that they addressed current theoretical concernsabout change, specifically through increased support in (1) extended time frame forimplementation; (2) delayed evaluation; (3) recognition of the need for concreteassistance in the production of sample units; (4) provision of a rich array ofresources; and (5) adoption of an innovative “training” program to increase teacherteacher contact during the implementation phase. The Bridgeton consultants,having the advantage of working in an urban board with centralized resources and155services, and ease of communication and personal contact, changed the fifthelement, the Teacher Leader Program, into the Catalyst Teacher Program, greatlyincreasing the amount of personal contact possible between the “cheerleader”advocate and her peers. The concrete assistance provided in Bridgeton was alsoincreased by the local development of enough sample units to cover, if necessaiy,the entire first year of implementation. These sample units also supported therecently-introduced Science curriculum, thereby modelling and encouragingcontinuity and reinforcing the “process” view of implementation.By March of the first year, only about six months into the process, theconsultants found themselves grappling with conflicting feelings of impatience withand pride in growth shown. Classroom teachers were beginning to find their waywithin the framework of the new curriculum, and the Catalyst Teachers werebeginning to feel confidence in their own efficacy and to be ready to initiate requestsfor further training.The positive voice in conclusion comes from Petra Rogers:If they’re teaching Language Arts and they’re teaching Math, they canteach this. There is not a teacher in this city I can’t teach to teach this.It’s just time and effort, right? And it’s better teacher training (PR,2003/10.28-31).156CHAPTER VII: MAKING IT WORK: THE CASE OF NANCY AND JOHNIntroduction: Constructs, Strategies, and ReflectionsThe problem of the of ethnographic writing plays a large part in thechoice of an organizing scheme. The cycle of data gathering, sorting, categorizing,reflecting, and re-sorting ultimately aims at telling the story in a way “thatilluminates the phenomenon and affords deeper insights than would have beenpossible without the analysis” (Tesch, 198Th, p. 5), jj is readable. Given my statedintention to focus on the joint construction of meaning by all participants, apresentation of the case data requires an organizing scheme that acknowledges theinterconnectedness of the ideas and experiences examined.In order to describe the two teacher participants’ progress, the coded datahave been reduced to three broad categories, each with several subcategories. Thebroad categories are constructs, strategies, and reflections, thus moving from (1) theways in which actors define, or construct meaning about, the social objects in theirlives including themselves; through (2) the actions that arise from those meaningsand decisions about them; to (3) the combining of thoughts about past, present, andfuture in relation to the meanings and actions that have been constructed. Morespecifically, in this study, the categories deal with the following:(1) Constructs: How the participants see or define themselves, each other, the newcurriculum, their roles and lives as teachers. This category responds particularly tothe first research question, which asked about the teachers’ construction of meaning157about the new curriculum in relation to their understanding about the meaning androle of art in their approach to teaching. Part of the second research question, too,dealt with the nature of the working relationship between the teacher participants.(2) Strategies: The actions planned and/or carried out by the participants in relationto these constructs. This category responds specifically to the part of the thirdresearch question which asked about the choice and use of strategies related toplanning, helping, seeking help, feedback, and evaluation.(3) Reflections: On practice, on the implementation strategy, on participation in thestudy, on the opportunity to reflect. When the teacher participants were asked toreflect on the implementation project, they were providing useful data for theremainder of the third research question, which asked about the effect on theimplementation process of the Catalyst Teacher-classroom teacher workingrelationship.This category is fleshed out by an interview with the principal of Oak Park,Patrick Edwards, at the end of the data-gathering period, which coincided with theend of the school year, so that its whole tone was summative and reflective. Thesection is augmented by remarks gleaned from informal conversation with otherteachers in the school. “Reflections” also serves as a way of summing up the case,and pointing towards the analysis in Chapter VIII.The delayed printing of the complete Arts Education Curriculum meant thatno teachers in Bridgeton (except for the six pilot teachers) had preparation timebefore the 1991-92 school year began, so this first year was of necessity one of158getting acquainted en route. Nancy Cansler and John Dana were also gettingacquainted with each other, because this was John’s first year at Oak Park School.By January 1992 (the beginning of the study), the nature of their conversations withme, and with each other in my presence, indicated that a solid partnership had beenformed. There was a generous leavening of humour in their talk, as each celebratedthe abilities and successes of the other, and commiserated over perceived difficultiesand frustrations.ConstructsThe construct categories and subcategories are drawn from the conversationswith Nancy and John, from my own observations, and from comments by otherparticipants outside the case. The separation here into subcategories is, of course,artificial; each has been created from participants’ statements within larger contexts,but it was possible to find these subcategories of constructs repeated throughout ourconversations so that consistencies were evident. Nancy and John revealed, throughthese constructs, both their real and their ideal visions of themselves as teachers;their feelings about curriculum in general and the new art curriculum in particular;and their relations to the new implementation strategy in which they were involved.The constructs constitute some of the regularities or norms by which Nancy andJohn constructed their lives as teachers and developed their teaching strategies. It isdifficult to separate a teacher’s talk from staffroom stories (Little, 1990, p. 513)159which focus on strategies. Nevertheless, talk about strategies reveals thoughts andattitudes that contribute to a complete portrait of the self-as-teacher.While our talk during the interviews tended to focus mainly on the new artcurriculum and the teacher participants’ approaches to it in the context of theBridgeton implementation strategy, Nancy and John also revealed much ofthemselves as teachers. Though this construct was not the primary one, it isappropriate to begin with it as a way of introducing the two key participants in thisstudy.Constructs: Teachers and TeachingIntroducing Nancy Cansler: An Adventurous PragmatistThese are some of my first written words about Nancy Cansler, from myjournal notes of the first visit to Oak Park School: “a robust woman, a little youngerthan me I’d guess, casually dressed, with an open, pleasant face, a husky voice, and aready laugh. She shakes my hand firmly” (CM, 1001/notes p. 2). Another list ofwords rounds out this sketch: candid, funny, self-deprecating; humble--but notfalsely modest She was also decisive. When I asked Nancy to think about apseudonym that I could substitute for her real name, she came up with oneimmediately that had personal meaning for her.Because she was the Catalyst Teacher, Nancy was mentioned in otherconversations during the study. Energy, capability, courage, and humour werecharacteristics that others observed in her. Her principal said, “Nancy’s pretty160powerful, you know, pretty strong in her approach” (PE, 0906/8.6-8); the ArtsEducation Consultant, telling a story about Nancy and a new experience with clay,observed “She’s got a sort of resilience to her.. ..a sense of humour about her thatother people don’t have” (PR, 2003/2.24, 39-40).Commitment. The old saying “If you want something done, ask a busy personto do it” seemed to apply to Nancy: In addition to taking on the role of CatalystTeacher in her school, she was on the Social Studies curriculum committee; her out-of-school life was very full; and she participated actively in the school’sextracurricular events. At the beginning of my third visit, a day that my notes say“seemed like the end of a rough week,” the staffroom chat at noon revolved aroundan infuriating article in the local newspaper that day, suggesting that teachers shouldwork a little harder and stop complaining. Principal Edwards commented that thereporter needed to join Mrs. Cansler on one of her typical days (which startedaround 4:00 a.m. with sending one child off to a paper route), see if he could keepup with her, and then think about how much harder teachers needed to work.Pragmatism. In order to survive such a full schedule, Nancy had to be verywell organized. Her twenty-plus years of experience gave her the confidence andthe stock of strategies to help her in this; and all her efforts were ultimately tied upin her notion of efficacy which had to do with helping her charges achieve somebasic successes and to find some joy along the way. A thematic approach to herteaching allowed ideas and content to be integrated, thus making the most efficientuse of the time available.161Though it was only her second year at Oak Park School, it was Nancy’s sixthin an inner city community school, and she recognized that “the parents expect thechildren in Grade One to learn how to read, and spell, and do a little bit of math”(NC, 100 1/13.7-8). Nancy was confident in her own ability to discern the needs ofher students: “I incorporated something new because it met the need for what Iwanted to do, what I could see the children needed” (NC, 1001/14.9-11).Experimentation. Despite the general air of pragmatism that Nancycommunicated, she also appreciated the value of new ideas, and the need to strivefor improvement. Her energy and sense of commitment would not let her rest onher laurels: “I probably spend more time on research than most, because most of uswill say ‘No, I really don’t know how to do that, so I’ll go with something familiar,known, and easy to do” (NC, 2005/ 24.3 1-34). “Research” meant finding out how touse new materials or processes, because lack of such knowledge was not consideredby Nancy to be an impediment to trying a new idea. It was not just her willingness totry new ideas and approaches; it was the enthusiasm and humour with which Nancyreported these efforts that completed my image of her as “an adventurouspragmatist.”Introducing John Dana: “The ‘Show Me!’ Guy”John Dana was a quiet foil to Nancy’s somewhat more direct candour andhumour. (This his first year on staff, so some of that quieter demeanour mayhave been the deference of the newly appointed, and would change as his place was162more clearly established.) The word sketch of John includes: soft-voiced, quietintensity; self-critical, reflective; subtle wit; modest; determined. At the front of hisclassroom, on a large carpet, was an enormous wooden rocking chair--a storytellingplace, a quiet reading place. When I asked John to choose his pseudonym, he askedme to choose one that had some kind of “art” meaning for (which I did).“The best I can”. John’s intensity and determination were revealed in hisconsistent statements about his aims: “I want to teach it [the new art curriculum]the best I can, so I gotta know this stuff!” (JD, 1001/ 15.39-40); “frustrating, though,the fact that you want to do more than you can” (JD, 1905/4.30-3 1). He wasambitious in the sense of desiring to increase his efficacy as a teacher, and it seemedthat self-assessment and reflection were natural to him.Pragmatism. Like Nancy, John’s sense of himself as a teacher revolvedaround the needs of his students and his responsibility to meet those needs:Some of them just go from school to school, and never learn much ata time because they’re always somewhere new, and they can’t pick up.So, yeah--Language Arts and Math, you think, “I gotta get that, I gottaget that into them” (JD, 1905/8.8-12).He also found it most efficient in terms of time to plan thematically, and sometimesfound integrative activities happening serendipitously, but reflection after the factwould find him recording those events for future, deliberate use.“Show me!” This was definitely John’s key construct of himself: He learnedbest visually. “I need to see the visual, I need to see it. I mean, if I just read it, itdoesn’t motivate me enough. I need to see somebody do it in action” (JO,2703/2.12-13). There is a collaborative aspect to John’s visual learning. He seeks163out those with experience, and talks with them too: “Talking with someone makes ita lot easier than reading from here [the curriculum]....If somebody tells me all this,then I can go ahead and do it. Reading it--it doesn’t come out at me as well” (JD,2005/3.38-41).John indicated several times his willingness to try new approaches, as long ashis learning style was accommodated through some support. I noted, though, thathe would also just plunge in and make the effort, as he did with the concept oftexture, and in reflecting he would see how it could be improved next time:Texture is not something that was easy for me.. ..I tried to talk about it--and it wasn’t very good. I didn’t think I had the words for them. ...So,I felt frustrated with that, and I thought, well, I’m not doing a good jobwith this--I’m not enjoying this at all; the kids aren’t getting that muchout of it, and I really wanted to, because I thought texture would beinteresting. But I think I have to take a different approach--I’m sure(JD, 2005/3.1-5, 17-26).Constructs: CurriculumIn this subcategory are grouped the constructs John and Nancycommunicated, first, about curriculum in general, and second, about the newcurriculum, particularly its relationship to the role of arts in education.Curriculum as GospelThis construct comes from Nancy’s words, in the context of behaviour sheobserved in “older” teachers (“older” in years of experience, in which category sheplaced herself): “Too many of us are trained in, instead of using them as options,164using them as.. .gospel” (NC, 2005/22.21-22). Both Nancy and John regarded acurriculum document as a mandate, and felt obligated to “learn it” as quickly aspossible. The notion of speed, of almost-instant incorporation, appeared in ahumorous observation by John: “Since this is the year for Art, they more or lesssaid, ‘Here’s all of it right now,” (laughing) “and get it started for this weekend!”(JD, 1001/7.10-12). His serious responses, though, echoed the need to delve into thedocument at once:CM: How do you feel when you know you’re going to get a newcurriculum--in any subject--to deal with? What goes through yourhead?JD: I think, again, extra work, have to read this thing, and it justseems that there’s no support..’s just--throw it on your desk, andyou have to learn it (CM/JD, 1001/13.20-26).Nancy also noted, in her observation of the practice of older teachers, atendency to discount the “gospel” character of curriculum in favour of preserving theregularities of practice:I think the younger teachers are more concerned with, andknowledgeable about, curriculum, and the older teachers have a setexpectation that we learned, that may or may not have any touch withreality, as to what you teach in Grade One, what you teach in GradeTwo, and what you teach in Grade Three. And it really doesn’t matterwhat curriculum comes down--I mean, that’s not necessarily meparticularly, but--”I’m going to teach the same thing that I’ve beenteaching” (NC, 1001/13.41-14.5).ContentRegardless of the subject matter, Nancy and John concurred that acurriculum document should be clear in its expectations of teachers, and that an165essential part of a curriculum’s makeup should be a kind of sununaiy checklist, inaddition to the more expanded explanations and suggestions:I like when...there are boxes where I can check off when we’ve done it,and I’d like to be able to say, OK, I’ve got to teach them this andthis....and it’s all there, and I can say, “Oh! I can do this with this ideaor this theme” (3D, 1905/15.9-17).Or, as Nancy said, “We all still like to have these little checklists that we can markoff and say, ‘I’ve taught these” (NC, 2005/11.31-33).This ideal checklist, or road map, would provide a quick way into thecurriculum for more information or assistance on any of the topics briefly listed.The presence or absence of such a concise aid seems to affect not just theaccessibility of the document, but the teachers’ judgment of the worth of any effortto find a way through it.In addition to a quick reference list, John particularly stressed the need formore concrete, detailed help, again in relation to his own learning style.Explanations of techniques, preferably with illustrations, and suggestions forapplications would, for him, trigger his own associations rather than simply dictatingpractice: “The more ideas you can give out to me, the more ways I can say it to thesekids, the better it’s going to be” (JD, 1905/16.18-20).The Role of Art in the CurriculumBoth Nancy and John acknowledged the importance of art in children’seducation in the context of their roles as teachers and in the context of the dailyrealities of teaching in an inner city school: “I want to get to the point where this166[art] is just another part of it, but I’m not there yet. And I’m going to make darnsure they have the Language Arts, you know” (JD, 1905/8.12-15). Following onher assessment of parents’ expectations, Nancy said,The art that I throw in is just either to complement something else, or--because I get tired of just drilling all the time, and working all thetime, and I want them to have some fun activities. So I’ve made use ofart; art as itself was not a matter of concern (NC, 1001/13.9-13).Nancy repeated her construct of art in the curriculum in a later interview: “I’m stillin the mind-set that, you know, you have to learn to read, you have to learn to add;but art’s supposed to be fun.. ..There’s that element of work, but I just have not giventhe credence to the element of work in art, maybe, that I should” (NC, 2703/12.3 1-37).These viewpoints of both teachers reflected a typical traditional approach, asdiscussed in the introductory chapters, which places art on the margins of education.The following exchange reflects the history of that marginalization:NC: You know, I think--probably the last fifteen or twenty years--artas a subject has been almost nonexistent in elementary school.CM: . ..I don’t know what your old curriculum looks like...NC: I don’t either! I taught with it for seven years, but I neverit... (NC/CM, 2703/11.24-32).The inclusion of arts education in the Core Curriculum in Saskatchewan, the newcurriculum, and the local implementation strategy, worked together to suggest thata new climate for the arts had to be acknowledged.167The New Curriculum and Its ImplementationThe fact that this new curriculum really did mean a change in art educationwas communicated by both teachers; they were fully aware of the high level ofadministrative support for it too.CM: So this is the fifth art curriculum you’ve worked with...?NC: Ask me how many of ‘em I’ve read! [laughter] This is the fjtone I read, the first one I paid any attention to... .partly becauseof the support and partly because I found out I was a Catalyst Teacherand I had to figure out what ‘catalyst’ meant’ This curriculum is acompletely different approach (CM/NC, 1001/12.31-36; 13.3-5, 15).John’s early enthusiasm was clear too:But with this one.. .1 think I can manage it, I might be able to do this!They’re dealing with it in a way where [ can do some things, andthey’re helping us, and, yeah, I think I can teach the kids something... .1can learn pretty well with what they have plus our help we’re gettingfrom downtown (JD, 1001/13.33-38).The sheer bulk of the total Arts Education curriculum was daunting.Even by May, John noted that he had only looked at his own grade level: “1 didn’ttouch the Grade One at all. It’s too much looking at the Grade Two, let alone theentire thing!” (JD, 1905/1.3-4). Nancy mentioned several times how her new role asCatalyst Teacher prompted her to read it:This is the whole thing. And when I was handed it, because.. .1 was theCatalyst Teacher, and I wasn’t real sure what a Catalyst Teacher wassupposed to be, but I thought she probably should have read it. So Itook it home and I.. .spent a weekend reading it, and said, “I think I’mgoing to resign on Monday!” But I happened to talk to Ann Williams,one of our consultants, and she said, “Oh, no, don’t resign. Youshould never have read it; it’s too much to read! (NC, 1001/16.11-19).”***Back at the first of the year.. .because I was going to a CatalystTeachers’ inservice, I sat down and I read the curriculum from168beginning to end, the whole thing... .But when I did that, that defeatedme: I put it on the shelf, and stayed away from it, because itintimidated me. It’s totally unusable, in my estimation! (NC,2703/5.33-6.4).“Making sense.” Besides the great size of the curriculum guide, the keyconstruct around which many of Nancy’s and John’s comments revolved was theircriterion of “making sense.” “If the curriculum they’re bringing in makes sense, if thestrategy that they’re bringing in makes sense,” said Nancy, then teachers would beready and happy to incorporate it into their practice (NC, 1001/14.40-41). Johntalked at some length about searching through the curriculum for things that madesense to him, in other words, things understood immediately, could relate to,“and I thought, these are specifics that kids can learn about.. ..That’s what I want, Iwant to know--what do I teach my kids?” (JD, 1905/2.21-30). Knowing that someelement in the curriculum made sense was an intuitive thing: “Gut level: It feltright” (NC, 1001/15.6). “Making sense” was tied into notions of efficacy, as in John’scomment about “specifics that kids can learn about;” something made sense if it wasevident how it could be incorporated into existing practice.Sample units. Sample units, rich resources, and the introduction of theViewing Process were identified as defining the “new” in the new curriculum. Thesample units initially seemed to be regarded as exactly the concrete help thatteachers needed:Before they ever gave us this--the curriculum itself--they gave usintegrated units on our level that had been developed by teachers inour system that said, “Here’s an activity, here are the materials thatyou use, and here are the strands and elements that it fits.. .4 this169works....” So here it is, they’ve tied this concretely before they evergave us the thing (NC, 1001/15.22-32).But then gaps were identified:I mean, they’re good, those units...but again, I’m going to teach what Ifeel I want to teach them. If it interests me, it’ll interest them,because I’ll make it interesting for them. So therefore, if I’m notdoing whatever lessons they’ve got there [in the sample units], I’m notgoing to make a unit just around that; I’m going to make my own units(JD, 2703/7.8-14).I went over the units, but they weren’t very helpful. They were moreor less at different grade levels, but not necessarily at y gradelevel....! was looking for things I could use (JD, 1905/5.38-4 1; 6.9).One area where Nancy found the sample units helpful was in their identification ofthe appropriate resources (such as slides and reproductions) for the theme:When I was doing “Pets,” I pulled out the sample unit on Animals, andpulled some activities. I used it because it gave me the numbers forthe slides; it told me which ones to look for. And so I used it that way;it was a time-saver there (NC, 2005/2.34-39).Although, in Art, both teachers found it necessary to “edit” the sample unitsand generally found that unproductive, it was interesting to me that in Dance, thesame process was not necessary:I guess the Dance strand has been something that I’ve done moredifferently.... It’s partly the newness, and it’s partly the simplicity of thematerials; because I haven’t even looked since I first read it; I haven’tused the curriculum in the Dance strand. I used the material that theygave me, and they gave us free-standing material, and it’s great! Sosimple (NC, 2703/12.18-25).The “newness” may have been the key factor in this different use: Both teacherswould have a stock-in-trade of personal art knowledge, art activities--existingconstructs about art in the curriculum. Dance as a separate subject was completely170new, so with no preconceptions it was not only convenient, it was probably alsonecessary to use the provided samples directly in order to gain that initialexperience.Visual resources. The slide packages and sets of reproductions provided orrecommended by both the Ministry and the local consultants were useful in addingthe visual component to art lessons and in integrating the art into larger thematicunits, such as “Pets.” These visual resources were also a source of concern forNancy, clearly challenging her existing construct of art in primary education:I’ve been given a basic group of material [reproductions] that issupposed to be on my level.. ..I went through all the print kits for eachgrade, and Grade Two is where they introduce nudity in art.. .with anursing Madonna.. .and then there’s one other that has these... realelongated figures, but very obviously nude, and extreme... .1 wonderedif they’re including that--I’m glad I don’t teach Grade Two! (NC,2703/3.9-18).John’s major problem with the visual resources related to his own lack ofbackground knowledge, and his concern that he would not be able to discuss theworks adequately:I looked through the slides that we have, and we were doing animals,so I showed all the ones with animals in them. But when you don’tknow anything much about what they used for a medium, well, theytell you a bit, but... I need it to be more specific; I found it really toughto talk about the art work with them. It’d be easy to talk about justthe animals, but I tried to, you know, talk about line and all thosethings. But when you don’t know much about it, I found it quitedifficult (JD, 2703/4.5-13).The viewing process. The “Viewing Process” was clearly a major focus in thenew curriculum for the teacher participants. This focus was emphasized throughsupport and subtle pressure from consultants. Slides and reproductions were being171made widely available especially for that process; the introductory workshop hadtaken teachers through it.I’d never done anything like a viewing process. The viewing and thelistening processes that are in the new curriculum.., you know,periodically we may have looked at some art as it fit in with ourthemes or whatnot, but...I’m more conscious of including that now(NC, 2703/3.3-9).John noted that the Viewing Process had been easy for him to accommodatebecause “that’s my style; my best way of learning is visual” (JD, 1905/ 10.13). He alsotied this in to personal efficacy: “ici seem to really.. .get off that way, too” (JD,1905/10.31).I observed in conversation with Nancy that the Viewing Process seemed tobe a focal point, and she agreed:NC: I think this is mainly the approach that they’ve encouraged, andthat they’ve modelled for us: As we’re introducing a new thing, tostart with the viewing, and.. .you know, whenever you have a meeting,they ask you, “How many viewings have you done? How manylistenings have you done?” Well, you feel real bad if you say,“None!”.. .So there’s the pressure (NC, 2005/5.38-6.7).CM: Do you get a sense that the other teachers in the school areusing it?NC: No.. .no, I think they’re resistant to.. .the push.CM: Just because it’s a push, or do you think there’s also maybe aconflict. ...a belief conflict...?NC: It’s that “This is not what I think is important for my children(CM/NC, 2005/6.25-35).”The implementation strategy. The constructs related to this strategy werevery positive, particularly with reference to the amount and kind of support thatteachers were receiving.I have found the support for this particular program to be excellent.You know, I’m more willing to cooperate with this curriculum than172any curriculum that I’ve been given since I started teaching because ofthe implementation techniques that they are using! (NC, 1001/7.35-39).Both Nancy and John described aspects of the Bridgeton board’sunderstanding of necessary conditions for successful implementation, especially inthe area of collegial activity:I think our system has done it better with cooperative teaching andother things. You know, it’s OK to have somebody else watching you,and get some information from them back; of course, help each otherout (JD, 1001/14.15-18).At the cooperative learning workshop that I attended... .one of thethings that they pointed out to us was, that to get a teacher toimplement a new technique, a new idea, a new curriculum--anythingnew, whether they be a young teacher or an old teacher--if you do nothave a support person in your classroom come in and help you with it,and help you see how to expand it and use it in your program, there’sless than a two per cent chance that you will actually incorporate it(NC, 100 1/14.29-37).That training and support were crucial was pointed out by John:I’ve always felt we’re past the stage where art is just the idea of cuttingand all that, which is great.. ..But that wasn’t necessarily the teachers’fault as much as there was nothing out there for them to go for... .notraining, no training at all. And now that we have more and more,great! And I’m willing to put as much as I can into it... .These kidsprobably get a lot more than anybody else has ever gotten becausewe’ve got it [training] now (JD, 1905/18.8-18).Critical comments about the implementation strategy were few, and focused ontime-related aspects like the need for more training, more information, things thatwere planned for and would eventually increase. The actual time-line for theimplementation was noted, too: Teachers were really “adopting on the run” duringthis first year, and it would have been more helpful “if it had been started in about173January or February of last year, just in information-giving: ‘This is what we will bedoing,’ but I think everything has just kind of evolved...” (NC, 1001/7.4-7).The workshops came in for praise, especially the technical-skill one inJanuary, when John learned about “soundscapes,” a story told in visual symbols thatalso represent sound qualities (2703/1) and several teachers in the school tried themafter the staff meeting at which each person shared what they had learned. Directhelp from the consultants was also seen as very important; Nancy acknowledgedPetra’s crucial presence on two occasions when she had plunged into a process forwhich the curriculum did not give complete information: Once when she introducedprintmaking in her “Pets” unit (2005/3.1-5), and then in “the incident of the clay:”I did not know, until I worked with the consultant, that clay was notlike plasticine. . .1 did not realize the properties of clay and plasticinewere completely different. And here I was--I would have been tellingthe children “Keep using it--it’ll soften up,” when all it would do wasget drier! Luckily, the consultant was here (NC, 2005/3.15-21).This was also the incident that served for Petra Rogers as an example of Nancy’ssense of humour and her resilience and willingness to try new ideas.The Catalyst Teacher. Those teachers who had been designated or hadvolunteered for this role were left, in the first year, to define their own roles, as hasbeen discussed in Chapter VI. While she was coping as a classroom teacher withresponsibility towards the curriculum in her own program, Nancy was shaping herrole as a Catalyst Teacher. Her first construct was of someone who had at least readthe entire curriculum, an construct that temporarily defeated her. But, being174resilient, and responding to encouragement from an arts consultant, she persevered(NC, 1001/16.11-19).Conduit, helper, and ultimately facilitator were the key metaphors I drewfrom Nancy’s descriptions of her role, both as she was performing it and as she sawit developing.NC: I feel like this year, it’s been more of an information distributor,and...a coordinator for the consultants. There’ve been one or twothings in which I was able to point out a way or something thatsomebody could use, partly because of one workshop that they had forus [the Catalyst Teachers], and partly because it was something that Ihad done. But actually as far as helping anybody really to implementthe curriculum, I don’t think that I have at this point.CM: So you see yourself as a kind of a conduit, a communication link,at this point?NC: At this point.CM: Do you take stuff from the teachers back to the consultants aswell? Or, because they visit so often, does that pretty well happendirectly between teachers and consultants?NC: Well, no, I take some things back to the consultants. Forexample, Petra’s going to be here on Tuesday of next week, and shesent a letter saying what she thought would be a good idea for whatshe would do, wanted to do, and our teachers all said, “No, we don’twant to do that.”CM: She wants the teachers to teach, right? (Patrick was telling me.)NC: And the teachers said no.CM: They’re not ready, they don’t feel ready?NC: Not so much that they don’t feel ready, but one or two stillhaven’t had some of the help and guidance that they want, and whatcan we say? Well, you know, she’s not our boss, she’s here to hij us.So I said, “I’ll tell her this is what we want,” because this is the help wefeel we need. So in that case, I feel like I’ve been a benefit in thatthere was a way that the teachers could say what we want, not sufferthrough what we didn’t want because somebody else thought we oughtto want it! So in that way, you know, maybe I’ve been of some goodvalue CM/NC, 1001/17. 5-34).175This first lengthy exchange about Nancy’s role as Catalyst Teacher brings in theconcepts of “conduit” and “helper,” but also another part of her role that seemedimportant at this earlier stage in the process, that of advocate for her colleagues.Oak Park principal Patrick Edwards corroborated this “conduit-helper”concept of Nancy and acknowledged her ability in this role:Nancy’s a very strong powerful kind of person, so she’s taken a lot ofdirect leadership, performing and doing, and setting up, and from myperspective that’s been tremendous... .And I think the informationshe’s given to teachers, and the prep she’s done, negotiating with themas to what the consultants will do on their visits, were great... .CertainlyI’ve seen more discussion and talk around arts materials and artsprogramming than in the past, you know, and I have to credit that toNancy. She keeps the fire lit... (PE, 0906/7.43-8.8).“Keeping the fire lit” takes us beyond helping to facilitating. It was especially in thearea of resource use and acquisition that Nancy described herself as a facilitator:Patrick always gives me a few minutes, at staff meetings, and I’ve triedto take some initiative and go around and say, “Hey, this is here; haveyou used it?” You know (NC, 2005/4.6-10).In the last two interviews, and in the interview with Patrick Edwards, Nancy’senergy as catalyst had clearly focused on the art resources as an area where shecould be effective, as she brought this up several times. Her concern was partlyfinancial. All schools had been strongly advised to purchase the recommended setsof large reproductions, and “they’re also quite expensive... .The School Board hasthree or four complete sets down there for people to borrow, but everybody’sbought their own so that nobody’s borrowing them!” (NC, 2005/4.12-16). Herstrategy was this:176So my thought is: Let’s take the kits [the sets of reproductions]: “Letme book the kit just for you. You don’t have to share it with anybody;it’s going to be in your room, and for these six weeks. Set a time:when you come in from Assembly, when you come in from recess,something. Set a time, the kids know we’re going to spend fjyminutes--five minutes!--doing this, you know. And at the end of sixweeks, I]i take the kit! I’ll bring it to you, and I’ll take it back. Youdon’t have any responsibility for it; it’s not signed out to you.” Andmaybe then some of them will use it more (NC, 2005/ 8. 13-22).This strategy not only put resources directly into the teachers’ hands andeliminated bureaucratic procedures for them, it also acknowledged budgetaryrestraints and revealed the way that Nancy used “research” to further her aims.Patrick Edwards commented, “Nancy feels very strongly this way, and she’s sort oflike a conscience for us in a way: Why do we waste money on duplication of things?”(PE, 0906/7.1-3). He also noted thatWe have so many kits, it seems, in our school, that have dust on them.They were purchased at one time, for a purpose, and they’re maybeeven still good kits. But we sometimes have an overabundance ofresources, and we’re not utilizing the ones we have... .So I just said,Hey, for one year let’s not buy any of the non-print [library resources];and that money will go towards the purchase of these art materials... .1have no problem buying any resources, if people are excited aboutthem and are going to use them (PE, 0906/7.12-18, 25-26).Some peripheral elements of Nancy’s construct of herself as a catalyst weresite-specific, but not unique, as Petra Rogers pointed out in our midyearconversation. The duty of organizing and cleaning up the art room had tacitlydevolved upon Nancy, and she commented wryly that one of the jobs of the CatalystTeacher seemed to be cleaning up the art room, and that her notion of “clean”seemed to be different from others’ notions (2102/3.41-43). This was almost theonly instance of friction I observed around the new curriculum and Nancy’s role in177particular. The other duty that Nancy had taken on may have related as much toher musical abilities as to her role as catalyst; this was in directing the operetta thatwould be performed at the school’s Fine Arts Night.“A day in the life...” The final construct related to the new curriculum andthe complexities of its incorporation into existing practice came from Nancy and istypical of her humour:Now see, it tells me to go get the Visual Art Slide Kit, use number 9,12, 17, 29, 34, 40, 41, 46, 49, 60, 61. OK. If I can find a minute to goup there [the school’s library/resource centrel at the time that there’ssomebody there who can tell me where this Visual Art Slide Kit is;and if it’s there, and not been taken off the shelf; then, jf the projectoris there, and my hands aren’t too full (‘cause I’m probably doing thisat lunch time), I might carry these things back down. But the bulb isprobably going to be burned out in the projector! [laughing] ii4 thekit is probably in someone’s room, and it hasn’t been signed out, sonot only do I not--am I not able to locate it, but I do not know whereto g to locate it “I think I’ll skip the viewing part, and I’ll moveright on to the creative productive activity, because the children don’treally need to see all that anyway....”So I’m saying this is my thought process as I’ve got fiveminutes, and I’m going to do this, and then I’m going to run to thebathroom, but I’ve spent so much time doing this that I haven’t gottento the bathroom and the bell has rung and I still haven’t been to thebathroom! [laughing] (NC, 2005/7.32-8.9).StrategiesThe strategies engaged in by Nancy and John in relation to the new artcurriculum are grouped into two main subcategories: planning and teaching. Theirplanning strategies were conveyed to me through their self-reports in the interviews,and the resultant teaching strategies through a combination of self-report andclassroom observation.178Planning Strategies“Fitting it in.” The “adoption-on-the-run” situation in the first year ofimplementation meant that these two organized teachers had their year plannedbefore they saw the new art curriculum. Because they both taught in a thematic,integrated way, “fitting it in” seemed the most logical and efficient way toincorporate the new approaches and ideas in the art curriculum. Reflection andevaluation would point out ways to improve the blending of art with other subjects,or other kinds of changes in the teaching of art, for the next year. “From experience,the best I can do is pull out [ideas to slot in], and what I’ve used this year I won’tforget, and I’ll use it again next year, and I’ll pull out more next year” (JD,1001/16.25-27).John’s specific strategy with the curriculum was to begin with the overall unithe was planning: “So I know what I’m going to do, and then I look through this, andI pick what would go well, I could do that with pets” (3D, 2703/7.15-17).Lacking a “checklist” or some kind of summary of expectations, he discovered thatthe Foundational Objectives for each grade level could serve that function; theywere the part that “made more sense” to him (JD, 1905/2.11-12). So, for example,he highlighted Objective 2: “Understand the elements of visual art” and subsection(a): “Identify lines, colours, textures, shapes and forms in the natural andconstructed environment” (Saskatchewan Education 1991, p. 296). “These wordsmeant a lot to me, because they were words that I could relate to, and if I didn’tknow them necessarily, I could look them up” (3D, 1905/2.20-22).179He began with the familiar: “I did some things on colour with the kids; I haddone that before so that was good, I felt good about having done something they sayI should do (JD, 1905/2.40-42). When he moved from the familiar colour into theunfamiliar texture, he ran into some difficulties (see the quotation on page 163).But the texture element was still part of a larger context: “I can’t just do texture fortexture’s sake. I have to make sure it fits in with something else” (3D, 1905/5.10-12).An idea for improvement next year has already occurred to him: “I think bystudying a few artists, which is what I’ve done this year, if I add that [texture] to itnext year...” (JD, 1905/3.25-27).Nancy’s approach to planning from the new curriculum was similar to, and infact inspired by, John’s. When she was overwhelmed by the sheer size of thecurriculum, she “sat down with John--John knows how to use it!” (NC, 2703/6.4-5):NC: He made a way to use it. Well, then, that encouraged me, ‘causeI thought, “well, if John can do it--he’s not much smarter than Iam...”JD: Hey, hey!NC: I can do it!JD: I knew this was not going to be a positive ending to this thing,now...NC: Wait a minute.. .1 said you were smarter than me, I gave you fullcredit’ then I pulled it [the curriculum] back out. And Inever quit doing art things, but then I began to take what I wanted todo, and look in there, and see if I could fit it in.CM: So you’re looking right at the curriculum, then?NC: I’m looking at the curriculum, not what they’ve pulled out... .I’mactually using the curriculum itself (2703/6.8-20).Later in the project, Nancy again referred to this strategy: “I think the FoundationalObjectives chart in each part is the best, simply because I can go to those pages andsee what I need to have at least mentioned” (NC, 2005/1.26-29); “I can take180something I want to do, and match it to any objectives, you know, so that’s the mostof what I’ve done” (NC, 2005/5.28-30). This strategy links directly to a comment byPetra Rogers about the intent of the Arts Education Advisory Committee (quotedon page 124): “Let the teachers fit in the foundational objectives when it fits whatthey’re doing” (PR, 0207/5.17-21).In the March interview, I brought up the topic of objectives, to get theteachers’ perspective on it in comparison with Petra’s rather pessimistic view (seeChapter VI, p. 151). Interestingly, it was in this interview that both teachersindicated that the objectives presented in the curriculum had become theirguideposts for planning, and Nancy learned from John:NC: Well, John and Celia Whitford, our resource teacher, both--I watch them, and they’re real good about knowing what they want toachieve..., whereas I’ll just kind of start and see where it goes. And so, I’mtrying to get better at having an idea where I’m going; so I look back at it andsay, “Well, did I almost meet that objective?”.. .But I think I have a tendencyto have too many objectives (NC, 2703/10.21-28).John observed that he, too, usually had too many objectives, and always fell a littleshort of his own expectations (JD, 2703/10.31). It would seem, then, that these twoteachers did make use of objectives, but were not yet experienced enough with thecontent of the curriculum to be able to limit themselves realistically, or to write theirown objectives as they applied what they knew about the curriculum’s objectives.Joint planning. I asked Nancy and John if they did any joint planning:CM: How much do you two plan together? I get a sense that you doactually toss ideas back and forth...NC: We do quite a bit as we walk down the hallway! Well, there’s notany collaboration time--put that strongly in your paper!181JD: We share ideas. It’s good to have somebody--I always think it’sgood to have somebody in the school that you can bounce ideas off.And Nancy’s full of ideas, so I always can come to her whenever... .butit’s nice to just be able to talk to somebody, and share what you’regoing through (2703/9.16-24).Nancy had also taught a clay unit to both her and John’s classes, and she wasdoing some Dance work with both groups too; this must have involved some degreeof joint planning. Each was clearly aware of what the other was doing in all aspectsof the school program; this came through over and over in the tone of theirconversations with me. So, while formal planning as such may have been limited tohallway exchanges, Nancy and John did, as John said, share ideas and stories.Part of this was possibly due to what seemed to be John’s naturallycollaborative methods: If he needed to know how to do something, he sought outsomeone who already knew, and asked them: “Talking with someone makes it a loteasier than reading... .That’s where Nancy comes in handy” (JD, 1905/3.37-38); “It’sjust from going to a teacher and saying, ‘I like what you did; what did you do/howdid you end up doing it?’--just the old-fashioned way” (JD, 1905/17.36-18.2,emphasis added). John clearly did not have the concern of status loss occasioned byadmitting that he needed help (Little, 1990, p. 516).In our summative conversations in June, both Nancy and John talked aboutplans that had already begun for the next year, and these were definitelycollaborative in nature:Next year we want to, with, I think, the other Grade One teacher(she’s coming in with maybe Cree). . .we were thinking of maybe doingan exchange where there’s some Cree taught, some French taught, alittle bit, and then music that Nancy would concentrate on--that’s her182strong point for her. So we’re talking another kind of exchange, whichtakes up time, but you find useful and necessary when you have thepeople here who have that knowledge, you need to use it... .Kids areeager to learn anything at that age.. .so why not tap into it? (3D,0906/23.15-24).The new Grade One teacher had not yet been consulted, but this was clearly adirection that the primary group was taking at Oak Park, sharing expertise in areasin and around the arts. Nancy, in commenting on the same plans, suggested that ifthe new teacher didn’t feel able to teach Cree, she might do some drama (NC,0906/17.16-17).Teaching StrategiesIf it “made sense” and could be “fitted in,” art activities from the newcurriculum found their way into Nancy’s and John’s practice. I have chosen topresent two examples from each teacher, and in each case one example is takenfrom my classroom observation, and the other from self-reports. The lesson/unittopics can be generally described as (1) working with the primary colours (GradeOne); (2) shapes in nature and in art (Grade One); (3) learning about TedHarrison’s work (Grade Two); and (4) the constructed environment (Grade Two).Primary colours. Nancy’s work on colour with her students was integratedinto a series of lessons on rainbows that were leading up to a unit on St. Patrick’sDay. The description of the observed lesson is abstracted from my observationnotes (2102, pp. 1-3). For ease of reading, I have separated blocks of relatedobservations by rows of asterisks.183I hang up my coat and deposit my bags in the teacher’s storagearea, and help Nancy cut out some new name cards for the kids withrainbow arcs on the end of them. Nancy explains that the rainbows tieinto a new unit on St. Patrick’s Day....They will be doing art this morning. Since I was going to bethere, Nancy said, they might as well do art, and maybe I could help!They have been learning the primary colours and talking about thecolours in the rainbow...and wondering why the orange and green arein between the primary colours. So this morning’s art activity will bein the nature of a mystery-solving exercise, as they learn to mix thesecondary colours and make rainbows.The introductory discussion of rainbows has been done usingthe Viewing Process, with photographs and other images of rainbows.Nancy sits at the piano and starts playing “I Can Make aRainbow;” the children immediately put things away and come to thecarpet in front of the piano for morning exercises.Story time: “I Can Climb a Rainbow.” It’s a Big Book,illustrated by Nancy, and laminated for the reading centre. Theysound out “Climb” together, after several kids get the overall title butassume it’s the same as the song. A little leprechaun card is used tofollow along under the words as they read the story together.When they get to the rainbow, one of the children excitedlypoints out that the colours listed in the story are wrong! Nancycorroborates this observation, and says that she drew the pictures, butthe words were by someone else, but she did colour the rainbowscorrectly. After the story, Nancy hands out paint shirts.Dressed in their paint shirts, the children return to their desksfor the Morning Message, which is on the flipchart in fill-in-the-blanksform, each line with a different rainbow colour; they begin by talkingabout how the colours aren’t in order, though.Up in the Art Room, some papers are already clipped to longeasels at the back of the room. The kids are standing around the worktables; Nancy separates two girls and has them stand at differenttables. Nancy doles out blue paint into muffin cups, then has onechild hand out paint brushes. Despite instructions not to touch thebrushes, some do. I remind myself, not for the last time, that theseare Grade Ones. Their energy and short memory are amazing!They are using powdered tempera; Nancy quickly mixes upeach colour as she prepares to distribute it; she complains about thequality of the red, and I mention a more appropriate hue for colourmixing. With only a few disasters, all the primary colours are doledout; then Nancy explains the procedure for the first mix, of red and184yellow. Several groups “get it;” many are just not as dexterous andmuddy their colours. I help, and tly to avert or solve problems as theyproduce each of the secondaiy colours. Then the rainbow exercisebegins.They sit on the floor at the blackboard; the colours of therainbow are listed in order on the blackboard for reference. The logicof the place of orange and green is now figured out. For their activity,the kids can choose to draw rainbows at the rear easels, with chalk ormarkers; or they can paint. The ones who got the best (i.e., mostsuccessful and most useable) tray of mixed colours are the ones whoare allowed to paint first. They are all girls.. ..Most of the other kidsstay with the chalk and markers, especially the ones from Arnold’stable, where he has “helped” them to produce tray after tray of a richred brown...Most of the children consistently do the rainbow colours in thecorrect order, either referring to the board or reciting the list tothemselves and mentally checking them off. I am kept busy changingwater, helping to create good colours out of bad, reminding aboutkeeping the colours clean (a losing battle!), and dodging Arnold’sflying brush which sends lovely patterns of blood-red dropletseverywhere!Despite the air of high energy barely contained, and the few spills and less-than-ideal colour combinations, by the end of the hour the children haddemonstrated a good knowledge of the colours of the spectrum and their derivation,and had produced some highly idiosyncratic rainbow images in three mediums. Theroom was left in the same condition in which it had been found, except for wetpictures laid out to dry in the sun coming through the high dormer windows, andNancy was ready to proceed immediately on their return to the classroom to arehearsal in the hall with all the Grade One and Two classes, who were the Chorusin the Operetta.Far from being “thrown in” (NC, 1001/13.9), this art lesson connectedlogically and seamlessly with the other activities of the unit. The foundational185objective of understanding the elements of visual art, specifically the primarycolours, was met; students could not only recognize the primary colours but had alsobegun to learn what happened when those colours were mixed together, and hadapplied this knowledge to understanding the colours of the rainbow. And thislearning was contextualized; it related to colour in nature (and thus, possibly, to theScience curriculum), and the rainbow theme was a connector to the next unit inwhich, clearly, leprechauns and rainbows would be involved.Shapes. As Nancy described this unit to me, the integrated nature of herteaching once again came to the fore. The unit was built around an arranged trip toa local art museum that offered a set program. Once again, the description isabstracted from interview transcripts (2005, pp. 9-11).CM: I’m curious: you’re finding that the foundational objectives werereally.. .probably the best feature; you’re thinking about keying that innext year; how about this year? Have you been thinking about theobjectives, or have you put the art in in a different way?NC: Well, I’ve not looked at each objective and said “OK, now, I’mgoing to explore the relationships between objects, their functions,and their environment: Let’s see, I think I’ll do that in my dinosaurunit.” I haven’t gone into that much detail. But, as we talked aboutbecoming aware of detail in nature, and the constructed environment:We knew we were going to the art gallery and we were going to do this“Shapes” program at the gallery, and look at shapes, and so I thought“Now this is a good time to do shapes in Math;” and so we did a littlemini-unit on shapes in Math. And after we did that, then we eachconstructed shapes: They had a ruler, and a piece of string, and theyhad to come up with a circle, and a square, and a triangle, and arectangle.. .out of a piece of cardboard. And they did! Not all perfect,but they did. They were theirs.And then, they took just a piece of paper, and they traced theirshapes, and they had to overlap; they had to cover their whole pagewith overlapping shapes. [paraphrasing: Then, with some coaching,they chose one shape and outlined it, and began examining andidentifying parts of shapes all over the page; then they chose a colour186for each shape and coloured them in]. Oh, they came out! Some ofthem didn’t manage to keep going right, but most of them did. Ofcourse, this was over a three-day period.Then we took our shapes out. We all put our shapes in ourpockets for our walk! We walked from here to the galleiy, and we dida river walk. We were gone all morning; we stopped and had lunch inthe park--my husband came and cooked hot dogs for us. Everyonewas in little groups; they were in groups of four or five. Each grouphad an adult, and they were looking for these shapes in nature. Theycouldn’t pull anything living off a tree or anything else, but you takeyour triangle and you hold it up: Is there any part of this tree thatfits? Can you see a circle anywhere on this tree? And each group hadto develop a list.And, before the trip, we tried to tie in problem-solving bypredicting: Will you see.. .now, just think about it, think about taking awalk outside: Will you see more circles, or more rectangles, or moretriangles, or more squares? Well, rectangles and circles won in thepredictions, hands down, because they could think of so many thingsthat came up basically those two shapes. But do you know in realitywhat you see more of in nature?Triangles! The number of triangles is phenomenal! From thejoining of the branches, the shapes of the leaves, the shapes of thetrees as a whole...they just couldn’t believe how many triangles theycould find! So, you know, it took several days, but we pretty wellcovered that objective.But at the same time, there’s another one over here that wewere doing: “formal patterns in the natural and constructedenvironment.” You know, we walked under three bridges, and if youstop and look at the patterning in the bridges, you stand back and youlook at the riverbank: “Do you see any patterns?” “Well, no, I can’tsee...” “Oh, yeah, you can if you look at it going up: You see thewater, then you see the rocks, then you see the grass,” and it follows alogical sequence, so they began to see.So then, they came back and they looked for patterns in someof the things that they did. So that was one unit where I really tried topull in a lot of the foundational objectives.The all-over traced shapes from the beginning of the unit were on display in the hailthe day of this visit. They were intricate, and also provided a focus for discussion ofpattern of a more random kind.187Ted Harrison. John was in the middle of this unit when I observed his class.Earlier in the year, he bad tried a similar artist study with Matisse, taking the ideafrom a fellow teacher at another school who “knows quite a lot about art. she’dsay, you know, ‘This is how it’s done,’ and so I came and tried it” JD,1905/8.37-43).On evaluating the success of the Matisse study, “it was like, ‘I think it’s me,’ becausenobody seemed to get it all! So I thought, ‘Well, what happened here?” (JD,2703/10.39-40). He decided to do it again: “I think the idea of doing it over andover, and you get to know the kids better... .When you do it the first time, you justdon’t know exactly, if it was you or what!” (JD, 2703/10.34-38).The basic process of the unit was to begin with the artist, using the ViewingProcess to examine a selection of works and isolate the key elements, and thenhaving the children try to emulate the style. On the day of my visit, an hour-long artclass was scheduled. The books by Ted Harrison that John had collected were allsitting around the chalkboard ledge at the front of the room. My observation notescontinue (2102, PP. 4-5):A practice drawing has already been done. Today, John hasbrought in some borrowed samples of student work in the style ofHarrison. He has written on the flipchart a list of main characteristicsof Harrison’s art, and asks the students to volunteer thesecharacteristics by referring to the student samples. The students seemunaware of the phrases on the flipchart, but contribute similar ones intheir own words:(1) “colour it dark:” John elaborates, that you have to go over andover it; take your time; don’t leave white parts between the colouredareas.(2) “different shades of colours:” John: “Can you give me examples?”Student: “Use one colour but make it a little lighter or darker.”John: “What else?” This elicits the suggestion of using differentversions of the colour from your pencil box.188(3) flowing lines.(4) lines repeat.(5) few details, simple shapes.John takes them around the student samples again, stressingplanning for flow, and order of colours. He instructs them to draw outtheir picture first, with pencil. They are allowed to refer to theHarrison books for ideas or help with individual features, but they areto create their own picture.A reminder at this point: What are all the pictures to include?The answer: an animal. (They are studying pets right now.) Thestudents settle in to draw; some still need to be reminded to draw first.One girl has a new box of pencil crayons and is quite obsessed withthem, worrying about them falling and breaking, and about studentsborrowing them and not returning them (all this concern seems tohave come from mother). I suggest she keep it inside her desk, safe,until she is ready to use the pencils.John and I circulate. One or two students are doing tinydetailed drawings despite the repeated instructions to keep shapeslarge and well separated--because the black marker outlines in thenext step will obscure small shapes. I suggest to John that standing todraw sometimes encourages larger arm movements and discourages“picky detail” work; John then tells the students they can work inwhatever position suits them.A majority of the students seems to have grasped the basicidea. Their compositions reflect a sense of the layered ground andsky, the simple building shapes, and the overlapping in trees,sun/moon, and chimney smoke. Others get bogged down in littlenarrative details and are obviously just going to do their own thing,although by the end of the class they have all at least got a layered sky!John and I talk briefly about the earlier Matisse study. Thefirst effort wasn’t even half as successful in terms of concept grasping,he remembers. He hopes to try it one more time this year.Later, recalling this project, John articulated his philosophy of repeatingactivities:I just think if I give them too many things, they’re not really picking upanything in particular. I’d rather they concentrate on one or twothings, and then. ..somebody else will do something else (JD, 2703/11. 10-13).The repetition helped him to assess his own teaching too:189I’m looking forward to doing the Matisse one again next year, to see ifit was as much me, or it was just the stage the kids were going through;it the first attempt, so therefore it probably would take a while forthem to catch on to that (JD, 0906/21.20-23).John’s use of the Viewing Process to introduce an artist study as a freestanding unit was a clear importation into his program of an approach from thecurriculum, more than a “fitting in” to other units; he did, in the Harrison study,include an animal as a kind of link to the Pets unit, but the artist study had anintegrity of its own too.The constructed environment and serendipity. The art content in this unit, atleast in terms of its relation to the new curriculum, serendipitous: John beganto make the connections after the process was under way. On the May visit, Johnand I met in his classroom while his students were off with Nancy, finishing up theirclay projects. The purpose of this visit was to talk about specific things he had donethis year in art, from the new curriculum, and his reactions to using it. Again, this isan abridged version of my notes and transcripts (1905, pp. 1, 6-14).On the floor at the back of the classroom is a very large rectangle ofbrown kraft paper, all painted in browns and greens and beiges, a kindof grid, but an irregular one. On the side work table under thewindows is a collection of “buildings” which look to have been madefrom various boxes, covered with construction paper and decoratedwith windows and other trims. This is part of the Community unit, itturns out.CM: . . .so would you have gotten some ideas out of this “ConstructedEnvironment” sample unit to do with the community unit that you’redoing right now? Or was it really going in another direction entirely?JD: I guess at the time. ..I didn’t look at it when we were doing this; Iguess at the time we weren’t into it so I didn’t really think about itahead that much, for some reason. Because we were doing other artthemes and that was just too much.190This one just grew out of the unit; it needed.. .wanted to bedone, and the kids got into it... .1 still emphasized certain things likesize--like, if the building’s going to be this big, how big are you goingto make the people? That type of thing. So you know, we still talkedabout those things.And I’m hoping to get to the point, once I know all of thesethings, I won’t have to look back as much, and think, “I’m supposed toput this, this, and this into it”... .Or, “I always seem to be missing out onthese two things, I’ll make sure to put them in later.” I’m learning asmuch of that as I can. I’m picking up a f, but I lose a few too; Igotta go back, and go back, and go back, and...the time hasn’t beenavailable to do that, to go back as much as I’d like to...CM: Tell me more about the “community” unit.JD: It’s actually an ongoing chain where you can start at differentends. I started from the big and went down to the smaller, when Istarted with the idea of.. .the world, then down to Canada and thendown to Saskatchewan,.. .and then we went down to our community.And then we broke it up into transportation, and buildings, andoccupations, fun activities, things/places to go, and then just things,like signs, sidewalks, things you find in a community.. .webrainstormed. And now we’re at the final level of accumulating it....CM: So this [the large painted design on the floor] is the aerial map...JD: That’s it; and then they’re going to put their buildings around,and their signs, and all the things that they did.CM: Is this actually an accurate representation?JD: No. They created this; this is a made-up community.... But wetalked about Bridgeton community, and even the community aroundthe school; what is involved in it--a community is made up of peopleand places--and they know it better than I do! I say, “What is acommunity?” and they just say it.We went walking. We weren’t able to get people in, like wewanted to this time, but that’s another aspect: bring people in fromthe community; we have a policeman that comes to the school all thetime, so that’s somebody there.*****Well, you know, I gave them all kinds of materials as well forthis, saying, “OK, what did you come up with?” So they’ve been prettycreative about what they came up with, what they used... .1 didn’t wantto give them anything specific, to say “Use this,” so I went upstairs andfound all kinds of things we had. And I wanted them to do.. .1 didn’twant a rough job. Some of them can really hurry, so I didn’t want.. .ifthey were using tape, I didn’t want to see the tape or anything; Iwanted it hidden....191CM: So, getting at that sense of finish--I remember that wassomething that you had to work on with the Harrison pictures the dayI was here; there were some kids who were just sort of ploughingthrough without thinking or planning....JD: That’s part of the idea, something like that. Part of the problemwith some of these kids is that everything...sometimes when it’ssomething good it has to be done quickly because it may not bethere.. .you know, like--take it while you can, so hurry up and do asmuch of it as you can--so you really have to slow them down. [This wasa reference to the high degree of transience among the schoolpopulation.]And that’s really tough, it seems, at this age, and I really makethem think ahead, like “OK, sit down! You don’t have to start rightaway”--even when we’re doing story writing --“Now, just sit there andthink about what we’ve talked about.” I sometimes have them puttheir heads down while I read them a little creative story thing, orcreative idea, just to get them started into a mood.So I was pretty pleased with the final product [indicating thebuildings on the side table] because most of them, you can’t--well, Imean you can tell they made it, but you can’t really see the roughedges as much; they really tried to cover everything properly, or to cutproperly, or to colour properly.A quick perusal of the main foundational objectives for Grade Two(Saskatchewan Education, 1991, pp. 286-295) indicates that, serendipitously, Johnhad addressed: (1) “Become visually aware of detail in the natural and constructedenvironments;” (2) “Develop concepts which will, in later years, lead to anunderstanding of order in the visual environment;” (3) “Organize their ideas intovisual art expressions, using the processes and materials of visual art.” This lastobjective related particularly to John’s concern for and pride in their work; theconcepts listed with it include “become aware of their own reasons for creating artworks” and “begin to make basic decisions about their methods and materials”(Saskatchewan Education, 1991, p. 290).192John’s habit of assessing projects and relating their success to his goals meantthat he became aware of the possible links to the new curriculum as he movedthrough the Community unit. I found it interesting that he had not checked the artcurriculum or sample units because they were already involved in other art themes,especially since there was a sample unit on the theme of the constructedenvironment for Grade Two. But this unit had only been produced in Januaiy;John’s long-range planning would already have been done. He had clearly storedaway the connections for next year.ReflectionsDespite the time pressures that both teachers felt, and that caused me toabandon the request to them to keep reflective journals for me, a good manyreflective comments emerged during our conversations; both teachers thought,unselfconsciously, about their practice as we talked, and it was clear that theythought about the curriculum and its implementation in the context of thefr dailylives as well. I do not believe that these reflections were prepared in advance of myvisits, certainly not on a conscious level, because sometimes my visits actually“sneaked up” on them.“Slump month.” For example, for the March visit I had planned to focus onthe topic of planning with the help of the curriculum, and hoped to develop with theteachers a chart of their new art activities and the sources or inspirations for them. Ihad some fairly specific questions in mind, to probe more deeply into how the193planning process occurred, how activities were selected. I had also hoped to seesome sample lesson plans during this visit, and again during the May visit, butneither Nancy nor John could ever put their hands on one while I was there.To return to the March visit: This was the one that my notes described as“the end of a rough week.” Reading the atmosphere, I scaled down my intentionsdrastically, and tried to keep the questions on a positive level. For example, “Whatnew things have you done in art this year, that you’ve never done before?” in orderto give them headway to “tell stories” as in Little (1990).The interview, with both teachers together, was veiy short, only 45 minutes,but by the end they were speaking with some enthusiasm about theiraccomplishments: “So I’m being realistic about it and I think, yeah, it’s going wellconsidering everything that’s involved with this... .I’ve been happy because I know it’smore than the kids have ever been able to have before” (JD, 2703/12.10-11, 15-16).In retrospect, it seems as though March was “slump month” for everyone: Mytelephone interview with Petra Rogers had taken place earlier in March, and shehad reported some discouragement, but coming out of it too; the teachers were tiredand dispirited by external conditions and waiting for Easter break; and I wasexperiencing some “researcher insecurity.” A scrawled note the evening after theMarch interview, before I had listened to or transcribed the tapes, says, “I think Ireally have to rethink the charting idea. ..Corbett and Rossman may still be OK.This is going ‘way too slowly and there’s a bad lack of enthusiasm--or energy--orsomething. It’s like they’re not teaching art” and the note trails off. This was194obviously a much blacker interpretation of the situation than actually happened, assubsequent transcription and reading of the text revealed to me. By the nextinterview (which was not until May, because of Easter break and end-of-termpressures for me), everything seemed much more positive.Reflections on the implementationPrincipal’s SummarySchool changes. The interview with the principal, Patrick Edwards, tookplace during the last visit, in June, and was summative and reflective in nature. Ibegan by asking him about things in the school that had happened as a result of thenew curriculum. The Fine Arts Night, a showcase of many activities capped by anoperetta, was the first example: “That was brand new this year, so in that way I thinkthere’s been a new focus, a new interest, and certainly new activity” (PE, 0906/1.13-14).Facilities in the school were being used more, or differently, too:Our Art room has been used more; we have a beautiful big room, andin my four years it’s always had pretty good use, but it’s been usedmore this year than before. And I think that’s a good indicator ofimplementation, eh? Now, that has forced us, I think, to be a littlemore conscious about programming it. You know, over the yearswe’ve never had a designated schedule for any of our specialty rooms,because we’re just too’s always worked to put up a sign or putit on the morning notices or something like that, and.. .yeah, it’s forcedus to be a little more thoughtful of use of the Art room... although, Ihave seen two classes both walking up at the same time, and we’vebeen fortunate in that we have another room right across from itthat’s very often empty; even the Science room has tables in it, so weaccommodate (PE, 0906/5.25-37).195The use of the gym did not seem to have changed, at least not in frequency; it hadalways had a more formally scheduled use. I asked about displays in the hail.I don’t think that’s changed a great deal.. .Maybe, if it’s changed, myperception would be that we have more student work up now. We’vealways had some, but I think we’ve got a little more student work upnow than, say, in the last few years. We’ve got lots of hallways, and it’salways had really colourful displays, but because we’re a communityschool we do have some associates, and I know in the past a couple ofassociates have always helped out a lot with that, and so some of thedisplays have been more sort of canned or manufactured displays.But having that extra help is one of the reasons we were able to haveso many good things up, is because teachers have some help with it!(PE, 0906/6.3-14).Resources. As discussed earlier, Patrick fully supported the acquisition ofrecommended resources and materials--if people were excited about them andwilling to use them. In the area of expendable art materials, he noted that ‘we’reordering a little bit more art material now than we were even a year ago. But thenwe’ve always ordered quite a bit of art stuff’ (PE, 0906/6.30-33). He had alsomentioned Nancy’s role as financial “conscience” regarding the purchase of kits thatwere available for loan from central office. As well, Patrick recognized aresponsibility for follow-through with the acquisition of expensive new resources:That also gives us an added responsibility, I guess in the in-servicecomponent at the school level, for our teacher librarian to really makepeople aware of what we do have, where it is, and how it can be used,and that’s a really ongoing thing (PE, 0906/7.26-30).The implementation model. Patrick’s most enthusiastic comments were forthe implementation model itself. First of all, he was pleased with the progress of theimplementation in his own school:196I would weigh that with the fact that I think in a school like ourswhere there are so many other issues, and so many other things thatwe have to deal with daily, that the degree of implementation of ArtsEd, considering the nature of our school, is good (PE, 0906/1.18-22).Regarding the whole implementation strategy:I think this is probably the best that our system has ever attempted toimplement a curriculum. What I mean by that is that it probablyallocated more resources to implementation than ever before, and webased those decisions about those resources on, I think, a good model.And as I understand the model, basically having some teacherleaders. ..actually interacting with kids and teachers on a daily basis.They aren’t coordinating some mega-projects or anything behind thescenes; they’re up front. And I think that is tremendous; also thededication to inserivce time for the teachers built in; and the fact thatit’s over a two-year period. Those are all just common-sense decisionsthat never used to be made... .The model, basically, of the consultantsworking with teachers, is excellent, and sound in theory (PE,0906/2.11-23).I think we’re really getting smart! [regarding the decision to delay theimplementation of Language Arts for another year]. No, we reallyare; and we’re saying that these things just don’t happen overnight. Ialready said, just in our school there are so many issues that need tobe dealt with that have a lot to do with curriculum, but not any specificnew one. But our system is saying, ‘Let’s really slow down here; let’sfinish Arts Ed--or the second year of Arts Ed, not that it’s everfinished, and do it well....” So we’ll have one year where there will beabsolutely no brand-new implementation. But Arts Ed can be given achance to get tidied up; Language Arts can be introduced so we canbe fully prepared to implement it properly; and maybe Science can berevisited a little bit. Because we only really had a year. And I know alot of principals have been saying that Science wasn’t really given thesame kind of shake that Arts Ed has been given. I think we’ve learnedfrom that (PE, 0906/3.31-4.11).The model was excellent in theory, but in retrospect there were some flaws:Where it broke down for us a little bit is that I think it was tooambitious. I think that--and this is my little window on it--to expectconsultants to spend the amount of time that they were expected tospend in classrooms teaching, interacting, modelling, without enough197catch-up time, to reflect and to ... just talk with teachers, plan withteachers.I sensed that we as a system were expecting too much of thosepeople.. ..maybe instead of being in the classroom five days a week,three days a week would have been fine, and the other two would havebeen to deal with all the information and details around making thosethree days really powerful (PE, 0906/2.23-28, 37-39).I asked if there had been any sense of pressure on him as an administrator, todemonstrate that his school was participating, producing, but Patrick said that hehad never felt any sense of pressure or competitiveness.The only pressure that I think we felt here was, because of our busy,busy, busy lives, sometimes the days that we were to be working withconsultants were booked in well ahead of time, and they seemed tocreep up on us sometimes so quickly... .and I think sometimes therewasn’t enough time on the consultant’s part to be able tocommunicate properly with us about what we were going to be doingthe day she was here, so it was perhaps less meaningful.And also, every school’s different; expectations are different and soon; and the consultants have their own expectations as well. Theyhave to be tremendously adaptable, and take, just like anyone whoworks with a variety of teachers, you take teachers where they are, notwhere you want them to be. And I think it was tough for consultantsto always know where the teachers were, because they didn’t have thetime to pre-visit and figure it out, and see how best they could help(PE, 0906/4.31-35; 5.1-3, 6-12).In summary, then, Patrick Edwards was able to look over the whole schooland link it to his contacts with other principals, and to assess his school’s progresspositively. He felt that Nancy’s performance as Catalyst Teacher had much to dowith that success: Because of her qualities of strength and leadership and financialcaution; and ultimately because it meant that Patrick could feel confident that aresponsible person was carrying out those duties.198I neglected to talk about that [the Catalyst Teacher] part of it earlierwhen I talked about the model being a good one. That is a pretty keycomponent, and if there isn’t one staff member to do that, then it fallson the principal’s shoulders . . . .And in retrospect, I’m so thankful thatNancy took on the administrative part of it, but it would have hadsome impact if I’d been expected to do it... .Because when I come inhere and a hundred other things hit me, well that goes down the listpretty far, you know. On the other hand, Nancy also has a pretty busyday! (PE, 0906/8.14-19).Teachers’ ReflectionsAt the end of the May visit, I gave each teacher a copy of the Levels of Usechart (Hall et al., 1975, pp. 54-55). The chart has eight levels from 0 to VI (withLevel IV split into IVA and IVB); Level 0 is labelled “Non-Use” and the progressionthen goes from “Orientation” through “Routine” and “Refinement” to “Renewal.”There are also key “decision points” between the different levels, and sevencategories of behaviour: Knowledge, Acquiring Information, Sharing, Assessing,Planning, Status Reporting, and Performing. (Appendix A shows a complete LoUChart.)I asked Nancy and John to look the chart over before the June visit, andthink about where they might place themselves in each of the categories in terms oftheir personal implementation of the art curriculum. I had stressed that this was notin any sense a judgmental exercise, simply an opportunity to stop and take note ofhow far they had come in a few months. In June, I spent time with each teacherseparately.199As we looked over the chart together, conversation expanded on the choiceseach had made as to their level of progress. I will present the two teachers’summaries separately, and then make some final comments. Appendix C showsgraphically where the teachers placed themselves; in the following discussion I referonly to specific descriptors for the levels selected. All quotations from the chart areas cited above.Nancy: level of use. Nancy had evidently thought very carefully about thischart, because she had “translated” terms to make them more meaningful for her,and was careful to explain her choices to me.(1) Knowledge. The explanation under this category concludes, “This iscognitive knowledge related to using the innovation, not feelings or attitudes.”Nancy placed herself at Level II; I pointed out that she was, in action, beyond“preparing for first use of the innovation,” but she defended her choice, for whichthe descriptor says “Knows logistical requirements, necessary resources and timingfor initial use of the innovation, and details of initial experiences for clients,”...because this [Level III] says, “Knows on a day-to-day basis therequirements for using...” And I don’t know it, because what I have todo is keep referring back to the curriculum, and finding what it is Ineed to apply in this situation... .but, I mean, I know the logisticalrequirements; I know that I need to cover this; I know where to go tofind it; and I am pretty good at figuring out how long it’s going to takemy kids to do it! (NC, 0906/10.12-20).We discussed further that Nancy was probably in a transitional stage between levelsII and III, but ultimately Nancy felt that in knowledge she still had a way to go:200“There’s still so much exploration on the curriculum for me; just discovering what’sin there, that I hesitated to say I knew it at all” (NC, 0906/10.26-28).(2) Acquiring Information. Nancy quite confidently set herself at Level IIhere:Now, there I see “seeks information and resources specifically relatedto preparation for use of the innovation in own setting” because that’swhat I specifically do. I mean, I go for veiy specific information; butI’m not to the point of “reducing the amount of time and work” [partof the Level III descriptorj (NC, 0906/10.32-35).(3) Sharing. Nancy’s dual role as teacher and as catalyst came into playhere:Really, I guess I probably should have done both [Level II and III] onthis one, because I’ve made a conscious effort, as I become morefamiliar with things within the curriculum, to bring them up, and try tomotivate other people to use them... .So as I finish this stage [Level IIJon one thing, then I try to immediately carry it on into that [Level III]more informally--definitely informally rather than formally.., becauseteachers don’t respond too well to other teachers telling them what todo [laughing] (NC, 0906/11.4-7,11-14).In retrospect, I think Nancy was too modest about her sharing activities. Afterhaving read the transcript of the interview with Patrick, and her own reports of heractivities as catalyst teacher, Nancy was certainly at Level III: “Discussesmanagement and logistical issues related to use of the innovation. Resources andmaterials are shared for purposes of reducing management, flow and logisticalproblems related to use of the innovation.” There were even hints of Level IVB,“Discusses own methods of modifying use of the innovation to change clientoutcomes,” and Level V, “Discusses efforts to increase client impact through201collaboration with others on personal use of the innovation.” I think particularly ofher strategies to increase colleagues’ use of the kits of reproductions.(4) Assessing. There was, I think, some confusion in the use of the term“assessing,” and perhaps terms like “analyzes.” After we talked through this, Nancymoved from Level 0 to Level III with some encouragement from me:CM: But you’ve crossed that decision point [Point C: Begins first useof the innovation], so in some areas you are, in fact, over in Level III.You think about your own use of the innovation in terms oflogistics, management, time, schedules, resources, and generalreactions of clients, you know... [all descriptors from Level III]NC: That’s true... (0906/11.38-12.2).(5) Planning. Here Nancy seemed to feel on firmer ground:NC: I put myself up a little further on in Planning; because I plan forchanges, and I’m adapting, and that’s what I took that [Level III] tomean.CM: Yeah, and you’re working on know, as you plansomething, you’re also looking at how that can be adapted to fit--Imean, you talk always about integrating, which requiresadaptation.. .you’re always making some sort of changes in what’sthere in the curriculum so that it can flow into your ongoing activities.NC: But now there’s also some down here [Level IVA] because I amtrying to do long-term, to think, you know, if I covered this with thisunit, then I need to be sure that I somehow fit this aspect into thistheme...So there’s definitely something long-range.CM: Yes, you’re really moving more into the routinization of it,developing a pattern (0906/11.27-34; 12.11-17).(6) Status Reporting. Here, Nancy placed herself with no difficulty at LevelIII: “Reports that logistics, time, management, resource organization, etc., are thefocus of most personal efforts to use the innovation.” She could see that this waswhat she was doing, andno longer having to determine what the curriculum is and isn’t....I’musing it, I’m not just preparing... [looking at Level WA] ‘with few if any202problems’...I wouldn’t go that far!... I have skipped down here[Level V], because I do spend time and energy, and I guess that’s inthe role as Catalyst Teacher, helping others (NC, 0906/12.25-29;13.1-3).(7) Performing. Nancy placed herself at both Level II and III in the area ofactually carrying out the innovation:NC: I would say at Level II, because I have a significant amount oftraining this year from the consultants, and doing some of the thingsthat are called for in there--you know, the printmaking, the viewing,and everything; I’m still very much following their routine on thosethings. But then I said also Level III because I’m managing it “withvarying degrees of efficiency!” And you know, sometimes some of thequestions and things that come up, or the next step, I’m not preparedfor [referring to descriptors for Level III, “Often lacks anticipation ofimmediate consequences”].CM: Yeah, when I was reading through all of these, I thought of yourexperience with the clay, in terms of “immediate consequences”[laughter] (0906/15-25).NC: It doesn’t necessarily go smoothly; I couldn’t say that I use itsmoothly with minimal management problems [descriptors from LevelIVA], because I’ve had to experiment and learn so many things. ...So,hopefully, it’ll get a little more smooth, and I’ll begin to “maximizeclient involvement and.. .optimize client outcomes” [laughing]--thatmeans they’ll turn out better projects, right?CM: And they’ll love it!NC: Oh, they already love it! That’s fine, you know, that’s noproblem.. .But here again, you know, as jy learned things aboutcollaborating, I’ve skipped down there [Level V] and collaborated.But there is that responsibility that I feel as catalyst, that--you know, Ithink they’ve given me two inservices that they didn’t give everybodyelse, they expect to get something out for their money (0906/14.11-26).Having reached the end of the chart, I asked Nancy if using it had helped her to pulltogether her thoughts about the implementation. She said that it had, “and youknow, I looked at it and thought, well, you know, what I really need to do is look atthe new Science and see where I am on the new Science” (NC, 0906/14.31-33).203Nancy: reflection on implementation and pressure. Our discussion moved onto the lack of time for preparation, and reflection, and Nancy gave me her personalview on the whole tradition of implementation:This has been a weakness throughout the changes, as they’ve madechanges to the core curriculum and CELs, and all these newcurriculums, and a new reporting process. They’ve made all thesechanges and in every change, every one of them, in the beginning, inthe “ideal presentation,” is built in a time component for working.And they’ve handled these in varying degrees, in varying ways. Butevery one builds in this time component. And the time component,then, when it comes to the actual adoption, we adopt it in itsperfection, but we throw out the time component.And you know, we keep doing it, and I keep standing up andsaying, “Why are we doing this?”... .After we throw out the timecomponent, we throw out the materials component... .They startthrowing out, but they never throw out any of the expectations (NC,0906/15.14-30).This issue of “expectations” came up in an earlier interview too, both in the contextof the general climate for teachers and of the implementation of the art curriculum:.and feeling like it’s the end, and the time line sequence, as far asnegotiations, and salaries... .It’s like they’re asking more of us, butthey’re giving us less. They talk about more expectations, but givingyou larger classes. And at the same time the media is giving you allthis negative stuff (NC, 2005/7.5-11).This was clearly something about which Nancy felt strongly, and thought a great dealabout.CM: Where’s this pressure coming from? Is it just because it j a newcurriculum and so there’s attention being focused on it?NC: Well, there’s attention being focused on it, and there’s alwayspeople wanting to know what you’re doing....CM: Like me....NC: Well, like Patrick. Patrick comes in and he says.. .it’s Wednesdaymorning, he’s got to go to principals’ meeting--and he says, “Hey, I’vejust remembered they told us two weeks ago at the principals’meeting: We’re going to have a fifteen-minute sharing session and we204have to be able to say such-and-such about what’s happening in ourschool. Quick! Tell me what you’re doing!” Or, Ms. Nelson [thesuperintendent] comes in: “I heard good things about a lesson.”[I paraphrase here for brevity: Nancy tells about a special lesson inmeasurement that became a kind of “performance piece,” which gother commendations, but...]NC: I went home eveiy blessed day and went to bed! I was doing thewhole day, not just that one hour, and I couldn’t let up [in] some otherdirection (NC, 2005/12.1-26).Nancy noted that her perception was that this pressure, and the thrust of the newcurricula, were focused on changing teaching styles, which meant attention wasbeing focused on the teacher:I feel there’s pressure for quantity and for consistently doingmore.. .and continuing to be innovative, and different, jf--if I want tohave a good reputation; if I want people to hear good things... .and Ifeel like it’s partly the new curriculums, and new approaches, andwhether it’s whole language or anything else, nobody is looking asmuch at the progress that my children have made, as they are lookingat what doing... (NC, 2005/13.22-35).An inevitable result of this pressure was noticeable to Nancy: “everywhere I go, I seethe burnout as incredible... .Other Catalyst Teachers, on the curriculum committee-I’m on the Social Studies curriculum committee; just talking to, and having lunch,and going on trips and seeing other people” (NC, 2005/2.16-22).Nancy: personal practice. Nancy felt the pressures that she described, buther sense of responsibility kept her persevering, and as a practised planner she justwent on with her activities. For the next year, she would be able to incorporate thenew art curriculum in a more considered way:I will try, now that I’m a little familiar with it, to put each one of theseobjectives with a theme, just by noting it in there [in thecurriculum].. .so that I can go back and remind myself; and stick a notein my file so that I know I want to work on shapes at such and such a205point--probably with my Math unit that has to do with shapes (NC,2005/2.1-7).In this same interview, Nancy articulated a new goal for her students in art:I want them to learn to appreciate art; I want them to learn how tolook at things and get the messages from it just like I want them tolearn how to read a little story and be able to answer questions aboutit: I want some comprehension (NC, 2005/14.37-15.1).lii our final interview, I asked Nancy what specific thoughts she had now about howshe would approach her own teaching next year.NC: As I’ve kind of thought about the themes and things that I’mgoing to use for next year, I’m building in to the projects and theactivities that go with each theme more art-related, more things out ofthe arts curriculum than in the past... .I’m making it be a more normalpart of my planning. For the Arts component, I’m looking at lessintegration and more structured art periods. I’ve invested time andeffort learning printmaking, and learning to use the clay and the kiln,so we’re going to have some very structured progression using thosethings--real art content, using those things that I’ve learned. I’ve toldmyself that as far as the viewing component and the listeningcomponent, just like I do a nursery rhyme every week, that I’ll setaside a ten-minute time that we do this.CM: So that’s a modification to your overall day plan...?NC: To my overall day plan; that it’ll fit in the theme, but knowingthat this expectation is here, and this is in the curriculum, I’ll just setaside the time and do it. And we’ll see how it works out; I don’t know(NC, 0906/16.30-17.10).This was also where Nancy told me about the joint planning for sharingexpertise that she and John had begun for next year.Nancy: Catalyst Teacher. In May, Nancy had reflected on some aspects ofher role as catalyst, particularly on her relations with her colleagues at Oak Park. Ihad asked if other teachers came to her, used her as a kind of resource, and heranswer was significant to me in relation to possible implications of this study:206NC: The primary teachers, yes. And the intermediate teachers willcome to me about supplies: Do we have the materials to doprintmaking?CM: Now--do you think they have more experience, somehow, intheir background? Or is it just that they have a different approach tothings?NC: Well, it’s partly that they have a different approach, it’s partlythat they’re on a different floor, and--but I see them doing more thesame thing they’ve always, yes and no (2005/3.39-4.6).As for her accomplishments as Catalyst Teacher, “I think I’ve made largestrides in figuring out what to check for and be sure that the materials are there, andencouraging the people to use the materials that are there” (NC, 0906/17.17-19).For the future, “I’m still not certain how much effect I can have on the teachers asfar as actually implementing the curriculum, getting them to really get in and use thecurriculum, except in my planning with them” (NC, 0906/17.10-13).John: level of use. We moved fairly efficiently through the Levels of Usechart, because John had also thought about his selections prior to my visit.(1) Knowledge. In this category, as in several others, John paid closeattention to the Decision Points on the chart, and then to the definitions for eachlevel of use, and finally related his skill level to where he saw himself on that scale.JD: I put myself on Level III, “Mechanical Use: Begins first use ofthe innovation,” I’ve begun it already....CM: OK, from day to day, you know what it is that you need, butyou’re really still thinking on that level, not doing a really global kindof thing in terms of knowledge.’re still acquiring the knowledge....JD: Yeah, I mean, once I’ve acquired parts of it, then, for next year,for example, I know what I want to use; in certain areas.. .1 don’t needto go back and re-learn it too much. But for a lot of things it’s day-today, checking the book... (JD, 0906/19.5-15).(2) Acquiring information. Again, John began with the Decision Point:207Oh, I sit in Level I, where he “takes action to learn more detailedinfonnation about the innovation” [Decision Point A]. I’m still at“seeks opinions and knowledge..” yeah, I’m still wondering andasking.... I might be there a long time! (JD, 0906/19.18-22).(3) Sharing. “Well, I said Level IVA for that one: There’s a routine, I wouldthink...” (JD, 0906/19.30). This was based on Decision Point Dl: “A routine patternof use is established.”(4) Assessing. John placed himself at Level I here: “Analyzes and comparesmaterials, content, requirements for use, evaluation reports, potentialoutcomes.. .for purpose of making a decision about use...” This was seen asconforming to day-to-day use and thinking.(5) Planning. Here, John also saw himself at a higher level, Level III: Hewas using the innovation (Decision Point C) and mostly working at the “immediate,ongoing use” stage, “except for the ones that I’ve done once or twice already; I don’tfeel I have to plan as much for them. I may change, for example, an artist, and notdo the same artist, but the ideas are still the same” (JD, 0906/20.20-23).(6) Status reporting. This, John felt, related directly to his planning andactual use, and so was at Level III, where reporting focused on logistics, timemanagement, resource organization, and so on.(7) Performing. In this summary category, John placed himself overall atLevel III, “well, because, looking lower, I wouldn’t think it’s ‘smoothly’ yet, that’s forsure!” (JD, 0906/21.13-14). We talked about how his way of repeating activitiescreated an incremental knowledge for him, as in the Matisse project followed by theHarrison one.208In summing up the experience of using the chart, John talked about hehad approached it, as well as the benefits of it:Some of the wording was kind of.. .well, how does it fit in to j? So Iwould kind of sit there for awhile and try to picture it for me,and... .yeah, I found it quite useful. It’s nice to look at it as an overallview and say, ‘Yeah, that’s probably where I am, where I see myself aswell.” A picture--well, I like to visualize it, so of course... .And, like Isaid, I’d like to use it again, even next year around this time, and see ifI’ve moved at all. There should be some movement, but not maybetoo much, because there’s so much in there! (JD, 0906/21.31-39).John: personal practice. As I have noted, John was a reflective individualwho seemed always to be assessing his progress. During this last interview, hefocused on his plans for the next year (including the cooperative planning that hasbeen discussed previously).JD: Next year it’s going to be putting the art in with the other strands,the other parts of the arts program; I think I need to do that more.CM: You’ve really dealt with the strands in a fairly separate way?JD: Yeah, and not as much with the others as I did with art, I thinkpartly because.. .well, I wanted to and you were here so it helped me toconcentrate more about it.. .So therefore I want to make sure I coverthe other ones as much as I do art, and still be able to add on to theart (JD, 0906/22.35-23.5)In looking back over other reflective comments that John made during theproject, two related topics come to the fore repeatedly: his own learning style,which was visual and concrete, and the need in curricula and implementationsupport for clear, direct, concrete assistance. When we were talking about factorsthat might affect use of an innovation during the March visit, on the topic of priorbackground knowledge, John said,JD: I think there’s too much.. .there’s so many other things that I cando.. .that I know how to do, that if there’s no help for me to do209something new, then I’m not going to touch it yet, because I want todo it well. So I’m probably going to wait till I get the help....NC: . . .or somehow develop the expertise....JD: Yeah (2703/8.5-11).Such concerns relate directly to the notion of efficacy: How can I ensure thatmy teaching this new idea, or new way, will have beneficial results for my students?That was Nancy’s concern over the attention being focused on teacher activity ratherthan student outcomes, too. I found her discomfort with this interesting, becausethe literature seemed to talk about the “usual” focus of school improvement studieson student outcomes, when perhaps what was more important was teacher activity,and going beyond that, teacher thinking. This reaction of Nancy’s was probably,then, due to her being accustomed to the student outcome focus in any previousstudy or evaluation of new teaching approaches.SummaryThe categories of constructs, strategies, and reflections provided anorganizing framework within which to present the ways in which Nancy and Johnnegotiated their way through their first year of curriculum use in art. Understandingthat their constructs of curriculum in general included the notion that a curriculumdocument, and more particularly, this new curriculum document, was a mandate,not an option, explains in part the perseverance with which both teachers worked atincluding new portions of the curriculum in already-planned practice. Thoroughlypractical concerns, such as efficacy in general, “making sense,” and “fitting it in,”dominated their methods and their conversation.210With these two teachers, tension between autonomy and collegiality did notseem to be an issue; they had a working partnership that was characterized by abalance of respect for individuality and a recognition of the need for, and value of,sharing and joint planning. Time was a bigger problem than was any sense of havinglost some autonomy. Nancy, however, was clearly aware that other teachers did notwork this way naturally; witness, for example, her comment that “teachers don’trespond too well to other teachers telling them what to do” (NC, 0906/11.13-14).The theory-practice dichotomy noted in the literature and in the midyearconversation with Petra was evident in that their concerns were concrete, logistical,and practical in nature. They did not spend time meditating on or discussing theunderlying philosophy of the change in the curriculum; they really accepted this ashaving come from the “experts,” and engaged mainly in reflection on personalpractice.The Levels of Use chart is a skills-based, technically-oriented device; this isrecognized in its design and intent. However, when we used it as a framework fordiscussion, it did serve to help the teachers reflect in a thoughtful way on theirpractice, and to articulate some of the affective dimensions of their experiences aswell. By the time we had completed the exploration of the chart, I believe theexperience had also helped to confirm a sense of confidence and efficacy in bothteachers as they recognized the progress they had made.CD C)CD-..CD (I)0 CDCDC) o C0C CCD.joIO—S CD 0.00(6)._Or.•. CDIwCD CD rCD C’)C CD 0 C Er C z CD 0b-I-8.Dissonance-Need19.NewNormAcceptance—RedefiningANTECEDENTVARIABLES_______DirectRelationship_______InverseRelationshipINTERVENINGVARIABLESy21.ShillsinPowerDistributionOURDOMEVARIABLES212CHAPTER VIII: ANALYSIS OF THE DATAIntroduction: The Causal NetworkThe categories of “Constructs, Strategies, Reflections’ in Chapter WIemerged as a result of the cycles of data-sifting, returning to the literature, andreflection characteristic of the methodology of this study. Although I had earlierdiscarded the “qualitative causal network” of Corbett and Rossman (1989; seeFigure 3) as a possible analytical tool, further reflection and reading resurrected itas a possible organizing scheme for analysis of the data. In this chapter, I respond toCorbett and Rossman’s invitation to use the network for cumulative comparison.The data in Chapter VII, filtered through my reading and reflection, are now usedto describe the paths of Nancy and John and to compare them with Corbett andRossman’s findings, thus adding to their research.The causal network is described in Chapter II (pages 29-32); furtherexplanation is interwoven in the following discussion of the features of the pathsfollowed by Nancy and John. The network charts possible paths on the journey,from impetus to enter the path(s) to eventual implementation. There are 23elements, or variables, in the three paths, and almost all of them were operative inthis case. The discussion in this chapter will focus on those variables that were mostnoteworthy for these teachers. Numbers in parentheses refer to the variables asthey are numbered on Corbett and Rossman’s chart (Figure 3).213Entry to the NetworkThe decision to enter a “project,” in this case the implementation of the newcurriculum and, for Nancy, the acceptance of the role of Catalyst Teacher, isinfluenced by a number of antecedent variables, but also by one of three “leveragepoints” in the network.Antecedent VariablesAntecedent variables are concerned, in broad terms, with constructs andbeliefs in the cultural path, logistics and practical concerns in the technical path, andincentives and pressures in the political path. These pre-existing conditionspositively or negatively affect the climate in which implementation is beingattempted.Nancy and John held “Sacred Norms” (1) about their roles as teachers:“Sacred” is used metaphorically here and refers to a set of immutabledefinitions of what is and what ought to be... .In schools, such normsdefine professional purpose while profane norms guide professionalbehavior amenable to experimentation and alteration (Corbett &Rossman, 1989, pp. 182-183, emphasis added).These sacred norms were closely tied to the teachers’ understanding of “CommunityBeliefs” and expectations (2): Nancy and John both expressed concepts of “teachingfor survival,” of ensuring that their students would receive what they saw as thecrucial basic skills of literacy and numeracy. Art, they acknowledged, was beneficial,but definitely not equal to these other subjects in a school where children moved sofrequently that they had difficulty just acquiring the basic skills. The new curriculum214challenged this norm by insisting on a higher profile, and more meaningful content,for art.In the technical path, “Staff Course and Duty Schedules” (4) affect “Slack[uncommitted] Time” (3) which then influences “Planning Team MeetingFrequency” (9). In the context of this study, I have loosely interpreted the “planningteam” to mean the interactions between the Catalyst Teacher and her colleagues, inany combination. The effects of these two antecedent variables were best summedup by Nancy: “There’s not any collaboration time; put that strongly in your paper!”(NC, 2703/9.10-19). “Competing demands” from the political path also have aneffect on the availability of “slack time.”In the political path, the primary grade/division group could be seen as an“Organizationally Tight Subunit” (5). Corbett and Rossman describe elementS as“departments and/or grade level teams” (1989, p. 176) that worked closely togetherand frequently discussed the innovation being implemented. At Oak Park School,given the regularity of staff meetings and frequency of opportunities forcommunication about the innovation, both orally and through the daily bulletin inthe staff room, the whole school might be considered, to some extent, anorganizationally tight subunit. As discussion of the political path in this case willshow, this antecedent variable had an effect not discussed by Corbett and Rossman.The last antecedent variable, “Competing Demands and Projects” (6), includedNancy’s membership on the Social Studies curriculum committee, the fact that fjFine Arts curricula were being introduced at once, the Science curriculum being215only a year old, and (at least at the beginning of the study) Language Arts andFrench looming on next year’s horizon.Leverage PointsThe “leverage points” indicated by Corbett and Rossman are elements atwhich many arrows converge on the network. They affect decisions either to enteror to maintain implementation. They arethe encouragement/assistance (11), trial run (14), and judgment of fit(15) loop in the technical path; altering rules and procedures toaccommodate change (18) in the political path; and encouragingacceptance of new norms in the cultural path (19) (Corbett &Rossman, 1989, p. 187).It is the political path leverage point that usually affects decisions to enter theprocess. “Altering Rules and Procedures” (18) is closely linked to “Buying in by KeyDecision Makers” (17). Corbett and Rossman refer to the notion of an“unchallengeable mandate” (p. 166), which seems appropriate in this case: Bothteachers tended to regard a new curriculum as a mandate, rather than as anegotiable option; they both made reference to the fact that the innovation was“there,” and it was something they had to do: “I think.. .extra work, have to read thisthing, and... .it’s just--throw it on your desk, and you have to learn it” (JD,1001/13.24-26).Petra Rogers explained that the principals’ buying in was crucial to theinitiation of the Catalyst Teacher Program and the implementation of the216curriculum. For Nancy, add to this the fact that she was co-opted as a CatalystTeacher, and her incentive was thus increased.The political leverage point is both authoritative and supportive (Corbett &Rossman, 1989, p. 179): Administrator buy-in, accompanied by changes in rules andprocedures (such as bringing in a new curriculum, budgeting for extra resources, orchanging evaluation systems) supports those who are already inclined to enter, andprovides strong incentive to those not so inclined. This is a relationship notindicated on Corbett and Rossman’s chart: The arrow between “Buying in” (17) and“Encouragement/Assistance” (11) should go in both directions. As well, in this case,administrator buy-in was directly influenced by the “Field Agents” or consultants(13); Petra and Ann’s presentations to the principals’ group were instrumental inpreparing and actually convincing them. Another arrow should be added, from (13)to (17). This seems to be a different relationship from the positive one shown in thecausal network between “frequency of administrator attendance” (12) and “buyingin” (17); the attendance of administrators (principals) at planning meetings was notpart of the Catalyst Teacher Program. Thus the influence came directly from thefield agents through their promotion of the program.An extension of this leverage point relates to expectations. as commented onby Nancy (quoted on page 203): She had observed a repeated phenomenon in theimplementation of new curricula, that the support and resources often “dried up” asthe process began; time available for learning and planning was taken away; butadministrative expectations of teacher performance were never reduced. Nancy also217expressed, I suspect, the feelings of many teachers when she noted that attentionseemed to be focused on j performance, rather than on her students’achievements. This shift in the focus of expectations may be familiar to researchers,but teachers have not been made aware of the shift or the reasons for it. Certainly,administrative expectations can have a strong political influence on teachers’implementation behaviour.Progress Through the NetworkBy the time I began my visits to Oak Park School, the teachers were situatedin the main body of the network: the domain of intervening or process variables.The “Technical Loop”Corbett and Rossman found that teachers whose decision to implement waspolitical commonly proceeded directly to the “technical loop” (p. 171):encouragement/assistance (11), trial run (14), and judgment of fit (15). This wastrue of both Nancy and John, and their reasoning seemed to agree with that ofteachers in Corbett and Rossman’s studies: “They reasoned that if they were goingto have to implement new practices, then they should learn how to do them right”(Corbett & Rossman, 1989, p. 180). Here is where the personnel and resourceassistance planned and provided by field agents and administrators would encouragethe teachers to try new skills, to judge those skills in the light of previous practiceand personal constructs of teaching and of subject matter, and then to continue in218the loop until satisfied with the new skill. John’s acquisition of skills and ideas for“soundscapes” at the midyear workshop not only added to his repertoire of methodsfor implementing the new curriculum, it also became an opportunity for him toshare that new knowledge with others in the school.John’s practice of repeating approaches, such as the artist study of Matissefollowed by one of Harrison, in order to “get it right” is a clear example of cyclingthrough the “technical loop” after perceiving a discrepancy (23) between ideal andreal practice. Nancy would sometimes enter the loop from “Training Frequency”(9): As she gained knowledge through a Catalyst Teacher workshop, she could tryout a new process in her classroom, and sometimes in John’s, too; by the end of theyear those specific skill-related processes, in clay and printmaking, were beingconsidered for expanded use in the next year’s program.Dissonance: Into the Cultural PathAnother result of entering the technical loop might be the discovery of adiscrepancy related more to teaching philosophy than to practice. Corbett andRossman call this “Dissonance” (8). Such a discrepancy would necessitate a shiftinto the cultural path, where efforts would be made to redefine the innovation interms that meshed with the teacher’s philosophy. Once redefinition or acceptancewas achieved, the teacher could move back into the “technical loop” and continuespecific efforts toward implementation.219An example of this was Nancy’s concern over nudity in the available sets ofreproductions (NC, 2703/3.9-18). She clearly believed that this was inappropriate atthe Primaiy level, and was concerned that the kits with nude images in them wouldthus be impossible for her to use. This also created tension for her because of herperception that the Viewing Process was a key component of the new curriculum,and these reproductions were major resources for that process. As our conversationcontinued, though, it became clear that this dilemma could be solved--theinnovation could be redefined--when Nancy realized that she had the power to “edit”the sets and simply avoid showing images that she could not morally accept.The “end point” or outcome variable of the cultural path is “New NormAcceptance” (19). Corbett and Rossman summarized it according towhether the need to redefine (8) led to accepting new norms (19) wasdependent on whether encouragement and assistance continued toflow to the individual (11); whether rituals, ceremonies, and othersymbolic acts expressing and defining the new norms (7) occurred;and whether new expectations for organizational patterns of staffrelationships (22) were emerging (1989, p. 184).The greatest “norm conflict” for Nancy and John was the added importance beingplaced on art through the new curriculum. All of the necessary conditions listedabove were present in this case: Achieving small but incremental successes in the“technical loop” (11-14-15) with encouragement and assistance from Petra in person,or through workshops; participating in the Fine Arts Night, and in new hail displaysof their children’s work (7), and finally, developing plans for more collaborativework in the next year (22). All contributed to a beginning sense of acceptance, not220just of the place of art in their programs, but of their own ability to implement thesechanges.Outcomes: New Norm AcceptanceBecause this was only the first year of a longer process, only one of the“outcome variables” in the causal network was operative in this case, “New NormAcceptance--Redefining” (19) in the cultural path. The “Percent of StaffImplementing” (20) in the technical path was not relevant to this case. “Shifts inPower Distribution’ (21) in the political path was included in Corbett andRossman’s network because it had been documented in the literature, but its dottedline indicates that it had not been observed in the reported studies (Corbett &Rossman, 1989, p. 182). This effect was also not evident in the case of Nancy andJohn and their school.This cultural path outcome was clearly evident in the case of Nancy andJohn. By the end of this first year, John was speaking of plans to integrate the otherarts into his program, following his initial success with visual art. Nancy, who inJanuary had referred to “the art that I throw in,” spoke firmly by May and June inquite another vein:I want them to learn to appreciate art; I want them to learn how tolook at things and get the messages from it.. ..I want somecomprehension (NC, 2005/14.37-15.1).For the Art component, I’m looking at less integration and morestructured art periods. I’ve invested time and effort learningprintmaking, and learning to use the clay and the kiln, so we’re goingto have some...real art content (NC, 0906/16.34-17.1).221The Catalyst Teacher Program: Path InteractionCorbett and Rossman stress the importance of regarding all three paths(technical, political, cultural) as interdependent, rather than focusing on one path asthe way most teachers make their way through the process. In the Bridgetonimplementation strategy, all three paths were addressed at the planning stage, withperhaps the greatest emphasis on the technical and then on the cultural pathelements. The strategy as it was delivered was mostly situated in the technicalstream, as Corbett and Rossman found was typical for “top-down” projects: CatalystTeacher training, consultant (field agent) support and assistance, encouragementand assistance through direct classroom help, workshops for all teachers, andresource materials. This strong technical support alleviated the thoroughly practicalconcerns of most teachers and began to pave the way toward acceptance and furtherefforts at implementation--successfully, in the case of Nancy and John.In the cultural path, “New Staff Interaction Pattern&’ (22) clearly relates tothe Catalyst Teacher Program and the status shifts that occurred as a result ofhaving a resident “expert” (or “cheerleader”) on site. This element had more effecton Nancy, as the new pattern introduced a collaborative mode, creating tension forsome of her colleagues between their existing norms of autonomy and the new onesof collegiality. This new pattern necessitated special efforts by Nancy as she stroveto balance her status as peer with that of a person with extra training andknowledge. John, as a regular classroom teacher and as a person with a222collaborative bent, was not much affected by this variable. If anything, it legitimatedhis natural behaviour.In the political path, two interdependent variables were significant: “TheNumber of Organizationally Tight Subunits”(5) and “Joint Membership in TightSubunits and Planning Team” (or Catalyst Teacher group) (16). The primaiy andintermediate divisions at Oak Park can be considered “organizationally tightsubunits,” located on different floors of the school and representing literally adivision between groups of grades. The existence of these two subunits, and Nancy(as a member of one subunit) in the role of Catalyst Teacher directly affected “NewStaff Interaction Patterns” in the cultural path too. Nancy indicated that the otherprimary teachers used her as a resource more fully than did the intermediateteachers, who tended mainly to ask about supplies. There was a hint thatimplementation might not have been progressing as well at that level either:Well, it’s partly that they [the intermediate level teachers] have adifferent approach, it’s partly that they’re on a different floor,and.. .but I see them doing more the same thing they’ve always done(NC, 2005/4.4-6).At Oak Park, the grade/division groupings (whether formal or implicit) meant thatthere was a distancing of intermediate grade faculty from those teaching at theprimary level, with a concomitant reduction in communication and collaboration.This negative relationship did not appear in Corbett and Rossman’s studies. Theydid note thatwhen a planning team member was also a member of anorganizationally tight subunit (16), discussions about the innovation223frequently occurred within the subunit and this often led to mutualencouragement to try out the ideas (11) (1989, P. 176).It may be that in the schools studied by Corbett and Rossman, there were planningteam members within each of those organizationally tight subunits, so that only apositive relationship was observed.Comparison with Causal Network: Summary FindingsNancy and John both entered the network via the political path’s leveragepoint, and moved directly into the “technical loop” where they utilized theencouragement and assistance of workshops, consultant visits, and physicalresources. Dissonance created by the difference between their personal constructsof the place of art and their responsibilities as teachers, and those communicated bythe new curriculum and its promoters, caused them both to enter the cultural path,where a combination of supportive conditions (success in the technical loop,encouragement and assistance, new rituals endorsing the changed importance of art,and new staff interaction patterns) helped them to redefine the curriculum’sconstructs, and to integrate them into their own without loss of their sense ofefficacy. Because Nancy and John seemed to work naturally in a collaborative way,the imposition of the Catalyst Teacher project was a benign, if not positive,influence on their implementation efforts.There were three instances where elements in the causal network interacteddifferently in this case than they did in Corbett and Rossman’s findings (see Figure4). A key relationship in this case was the positive effect of the principals’ “buying224in” (17) on the amount and kind of encouragement and assistance (11) experiencedby Nancy and John. In fact, if the principals as a group had not accepted the project,the implementation would not have been introduced in Bridgeton.In turn, the principals’ buying-in was directly influenced by Petra and Ann as“Field Agents” (13), through their careful study of the necessary conditions both forprincipals’ acceptance and for teachers’ willingness to enter the process. In thespecific case of Oak Park School, the importance of support from the individualprincipal was clearly demonstrated. Patrick Edwards made a point of including timein staff meetings for announcements and discussion of aspects of theimplementation; he facilitated the introduction of the Fine Arts Night; his ownencouragement and enthusiasm modelled positive leadership.Finally, Nancy’s new role (16, 22) had the positive effect shown by Corbettand Rossman on implementation by her colleagues in the primary division, but theother “organizationally tight subunit,” (5) the intermediate division teachers, seemedto display a distancing from Nancy as the Catalyst Teacher and from theimplementation--an effect not observed in Corbett and Rossman’s studies.Elements in Corbett and Rossman’s network that did not appear at all in thiscase were two outcome variables, “percent of staff in school implementing,” and“shifts in power distribution;” and “frequency of administrator attendance” in theprocess variables.CD z CD 0 p-I tl. 01.SacredNormsCULTURAL8.I)issouauce -NeedtoRedelme/ReinterpretAeccplanec—RedcluungVARIAI3I£S_______DirectRelationship11VariablespresentinbothcasesVariablesopcraIiigdifferentlyfroni corbeti&Rossmannetwork_______Variablesuntobscrvcdinthiscase—InverseRelationship226The majority of discrepancies between this case and the paths described byCorbett and Rossman are clustered in the political path. A possible reason for thiscould be a difference in the way the schools themselves are organized, or it could bea difference in the actual program for implementation as devised in each location,particularly the nature of the “planning teams.” The discrepancies were few,however. The qualitative causal network provided a very useful framework foranalyzing the elements of Nancy and John’s paths toward implementation, and thissingle case proved to be a close parallel to the paths observed by Corbett andRossman.227CHAPTER IX: SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND IMPLICATIONSSummaiy Review of the StudyThis qualitative case study documented the experiences of two primaryteachers in their first year of work with a new art curriculum, through the use ofsemistructured interviews supported by interviews with other actors in the projectand by classroom observations. The key element of the case was a specially-createdworking relationship between the two teachers, one of whom was a designated“Catalyst Teacher” who acted as liaison with consultants and as an on-site“cheerleader” to her colleagues during the implementation process. The questionswith which the study began were:1. What meaning does each teacher construct about the new curriculum?a. How is this meaning acquired?b. How does this meaning relate to existing understanding about themeaning and role of art in the teacher’s approach to educating young children?c. Does this meaning change during the year? How and why?2. What is the nature of the working relationship?a. What is the role of each teacher in relation to the other teacher and to thecurriculum document?b. How and by whom are these roles defined? (i.e. what aspects of the rolesare voluntary/involuntary, formal/informal?)2283. From the perspective of each, what is the effect on the implementation process ofthe working relationship established by the two teachers?a. Does the voluntary/non-voluntary nature of aspects of the relationshipaffect the unpiementation process? How?b. Given the notion of art teacher autonomy, how does the workingrelationship affect the new curriculum’s possible threat to that autonomy?c. What strategies does each teacher employ within the working relationshipin such areas as planning, helping, seeking help, feedback, and evaluation? How arethese strategies chosen?The categories of Constructs, Strategies, and Reflections were developed toorganize the data in response to these questions. Corbett and Rossman’s 1989research into the journeys of teachers involved in the implementation of innovationssuggested an interesting analytical device. The qualitative causal network (Figure 3)proved to be a valuable aid in presenting the data in a way that attended to therelationships among all the contextual factors operating in the case, and that helpedto foreground some of the implications for theory, practice, and research.Summary of the FindingsMeaningThe first cluster of research questions acknowledged the need forparticipants to find personal meaning in the change process (Fullan, 1982, 1991;229Olson, 1980; Doyle & Ponder, 1977). In the presentation of the case data, the term“constructs” was used to describe the meanings Nancy and John held andconstructed around the curriculum, their own roles as teachers and colleagues, andthe place of art in their programs. These meanings or constructs constituted thedaily norms or regularities (Sarason, 1982) which guided these two teacherparticipants’ practice.The curriculum. The curriculum was the centre of the Catalyst Teacherprogram, and the “object,” in symbolic interactionist terms, on which the teacherparticipants focused as they worked toward implementation. Within Nancy andJohn’s concentration on the new curriculum, their constructs or meanings about theother areas of interest, their roles as teachers and their view of art in the totalcurriculum were revealed. This document was seen, first, as an “unchallengeablemandate” (Corbett & Rossman, 1989, p. 166). It was a text to be learned, and bothNancy and John looked for ways in which the curriculum made sense to them.Elements of the curriculum that “made sense” could be meshed with existingregularities or norms. The curriculum component that received the greatestemphasis in this first year was the “Viewing Process.” Nancy reported beingquestioned regularly at meetings on progress in the use of this process (NC,2005/6.5-7), and there was strong administrative encouragement to purchase theextensive visual resources available to support the use of the Viewing Process.Norms challenged. The introduction of, and emphasis on, the ViewingProcess represented for Nancy and John a change in the importance and content of230art, a change which created a meaning (or cultural) conflict for both of them. Johnand Nancy acknowledged the benefits of art in the general curriculum, but placed itlower in the subject hierarchy than the traditional core subjects such as LanguageArts and Mathematics. It was not only their view of the place of art but also theirconstruct of the role of the teacher that was being challenged here. As teachers ofyoung children in a school with a high transient population, both Nancy and Johnfelt a strong responsibility, to the children and to their parents, to stress basicliteracy and numeracy in their programs.Although in practice she worked at correlating art activities within largerthemes, Nancy still articulated her construct of art as an activity clearly separatedfrom the “have to” subjects: “Because I get tired of just drilling all the time....and Iwant them to have some fun activities” (NC, 1001/13.10-11). But the newcurriculum, especially through the emphasis on the Viewing Process, signalled agreater visibility and importance for art, and more meaningful and even rigorouscontent.Change in meaning. Though long held constructs and “sacred norms” aboutart and teaching for survival held by Nancy and John were challenged, they showedthemselves able to adapt and reconstruct their ideas to cope with their newsituation. By the end of the first year, both had clearly moved toward “normacceptance,” the end point in Corbett and Rossman’s cultural path, as shown bytheir plans for the next year. John had worked diligently at improving his use of theViewing Process as a way of developing artist study units and of including the231cultural/historical and critical/responsive components of the new curriculum in histeaching. For the next year, his goal was to continue to integrate his newapproaches to art throughout his art program, and to learn the same skills in theother strands of the Fine Arts curriculum. Nancy had gained some specific newskills in clay and printmaking, and planned to focus more directly on “real artcontent” (NC, 0906/17.1).Conditions supporting the change. The political nature of John and Nancy’sentry to the implementation process and their construct of the curriculum as arequired, rather than optional, document, certainly contributed to their readiness toaccept change. But Corbett and Rossman caution that such acceptance, in thecultural path, takes time (probably more than a few months) and early appearancesof acceptance after a political entry are often superficial and not lasting (1989,pp. 18 1-182).The experiences in the “technical loop” of receiving encouragement andassistance through personnel and physical resources; the support of the schoolprincipal expressed through the introduction of Fine Arts Night, the encouragementof hail displays of student work, and the recognition of the role of the CatalystTeacher expressed in regular meetings and bulletins with time provided for Nancy tocommunicate with her colleagues: all contributed to early feelings of success forNancy and John, and thus to their recognition and initial acceptance of new norms.232The Working RelationshipThe second cluster of research questions was formulated in anticipation ofteachers’ having generally to negotiate a new way of working with each other,mandated by the introduction of the Catalyst Teacher role into the school. Nancy’snew role was externally created and, for her, was more involuntary than voluntary:I was not “recruited” as a Catalyst Teacher. I signed up on ourschool’s duty roster as the Fine Arts rep, to turn in information. It’sreally.. .it’s more of an information distributor kind of thing, which wehave for every subject area... I’m not certain that I would have beenthe best person for the just happened (NC, 1001/4.18-29).Nevertheless, Nancy’s leadership abilities were recognized by her principal, by John,and by the consultant, Petra Rogers. There was clearly an ease and naturalness inthe relationship between Nancy and John that suggested that this role change onlylegitimated a relationship that would exist anyway. Because they both taught in theprimary division, and because John, in fact, “received” Nancy’s students, there was anatural affinity between them.The case of Nancy and John was, I believe, atypical in the ease with whichthey worked together. Certainly Nancy did not have the same relationship on a oneto-one basis with each other teacher in her school. But the “team” of Nancy andJohn was to expand in the next year when a new Grade One teacher was to come onstaff; they were talking, by June, of including her in their joint efforts. There is acombination of synergy and efficacy (Fransila, 1989, p. 162) at work in thisrelationship that deserves further scrutiny.233Implementation ProgressThe third cluster of research questions focused on notions of autonomy andcoping strategies, and allowed for the entiy of further issues related to theautonomy/collegiality tension as the research progressed. As the finding in theprevious section indicates, the working relationship between Nancy and John waslargely voluntary and informal, and affected their joint progress towardimplementation positively as they worked in an atmosphere of easy interchange,trust, and mutual aid and support.John, a naturally collaborative individual, saw Nancy as a source ofinformation from whom he willingly sought advice and assistance. Although Nancywas the senior member of the partnership in terms of experience as well as in herrole as Catalyst Teacher, she also respected John’s abilities in areas where she feltpersonally lacking, such as his ability to find a way into the unwieldy and dauntingcurriculum document (2703/6.4-20).Nancy and John shared materials and ideas, taught each other’s classes tocapitalize on individual enthusiasms and skills, and planned joint activities, eventhough there was “no collaboration time” available, as Nancy stressed, other thantalking as they walked down the haIls (2703/9.18-19). Much of their planning andteaching in this first year, individually and together, was “on-the-run;” as long-rangeorganizers, they took the new curriculum and made elements of it “fit in’ to theirexisting plans. Equally, though, as long-range organizers, they were looking towardthe next year and planning to use the curriculum for itself, not as an add-on.234Notions of autonomy as privacy did not enter the picture for Nancy and John,but Nancy indicated awareness that this was not necessarily so for other teachers,that norms of deference and non-interference (Little, 1990, P. 515) needed to berecognized elsewhere “because teachers don’t respond too well to other teacherstelling them what to do” (NC, 09061 11.14). The distancing of the intermediate levelteachers from the primary, and thus from Nancy in her role as Catalyst Teacher,indicates a negative influence on implementation not identified in Corbett andRossman’s causal network. A full discussion of this distancing is beyond the scopeof this case, but its existence is significant for the implications of this study.ConclusionsIn a single-case study, any conclusions reached must be tempered withawareness of the uniqueness of that case. Knowledge claims must reside within theboundaries of the case, but may still point to comparative possibilities. The findingsin this case suggest that peer-centred change efforts do have potential for success. Ihave concluded that there are three important considerations to which researchersshould attend in planning or studying change.Although I suspect that the working relationship between Nancy and Johnwas atypical in the extent of its openness and natural collegiality, this case has shownthat progress toward implementation was possible in a relatively short time, in themutually supportive atmosphere that their relationship fostered. The CatalystTeacher Program provided an unusual amount of support, not only in resource235materials, but also in direct assistance from consultants, extra training for theCatalyst Teachers, and the encouragement of principals who valued the change.Curriculum is Not GospelNancy articulated the view of fellow teachers when she compared acurriculum document to “gospel.” Yet, in almost the next breath, she described howthose same teachers’ own experience and knowledge, their cultural norms aboutteaching, modified that position. It would seem that, when “curriculum” is referredto in the abstract, its power as a mandate is acknowledged. But when thatcurriculum moves from outside the teacher’s world and, through administrativeimposition, comes inside, this power is muted by interaction with the cultural normsof autonomous teachers, and with the collective power of the norms operatingwithin the school. In short, this case has confirmed that teachers ffl negotiate andadapt, fitting the changes into the context in which they work. This action mesheswith the “mutual adaptation” approach to studying implementation (Fullan &Pomfret, 1977; discussed on pages 20-22) that focuses on context and negotiation.Cultural Change is Crucial and PossibleSarason (1982), Marris (1975), and Fullan (1991) among others have stressedthat curriculum change involves changing teachers’ beliefs; in Corbett andRossman’s terms, these are changes in the cultural path. While they emphasize theinteraction of the technical, political, and cultural paths in the journey toward236implementation, Corbett and Rossman also suggest “that for lasting change tooccur--for acceptance and enduring adherence to new practices--accompanyingsupport and grounding in the school’s culture is necessaly” (1989, p. 185, emphasisadded).At Oak Park School, Nancy and John’s cultural norms about their roles asteachers and about the place of art in their programs were challenged by the newcurriculum. In order to gain comfort with that curriculum and to continue to try tointegrate it into their practice, it was crucial for these two teachers to construct anew meaning that would allow them to accept the altered norms embedded in thenew curriculum.By the end of the first year of use, Nancy and John were both displayingevidence of acceptance of the new importance of art in their total programs, andwere planning their next year based on that acceptance. Their early success in thetrials that they made, accompanied by the high level of support and encouragementdeveloped in the Catalyst Teacher Program, contributed to their ability to accept thecultural change.The Scale of the Project Appears to be ImportantThe Catalyst Teacher Program was initiated across a large urban schoolboard; the Teacher Leader Program was conceived to assist implementation acrossan entire province. Given the diversity of backgrounds, philosophies, teaching andlearning styles, and so on of the many individuals involved in a project of such a237scale, it should not be surprising that the unforeseen always occurs, includingunanticipated barriers to implementation. In this category may be found factorsthat, at first glance, seem rather commonplace, but they seem to recur, whichsuggests that they have not been taken seriously as potential barriers. Such factorswould include:(1) The great diversity of individual teachers’ needs for encouragement,material resources, concrete plans and classroom assistance, and the necessity ofplanning to accommodate those needs. The greater the scope of the project, themore combinations of professional development needs there are likely to be.(2) Distancing among formal and informal units within and across schools:Whether these units represent grade-alike groups, or different types of schools, ordifferent teaching philosophies, the distancing observed in this study--a kind of“group isolation”--inhibits effective communication and collegial work. The earlysuccess seen in the case of Nancy and John occurred between two collaboratingteachers from the same school 4 the same grade division, a very small-scale unit.This single-case study cannot suggest that similar situations occur in everyelementary school, but the distancing of intermediate-level teachers from a primarylevel Catalyst Teacher at least suggests that this is an area to be considered in eachsituation; there are already existing canons of status related to the grade level taughtthat must be addressed when injecting a new role, with an implied status change,into the school.238Implications for PracticeThe Catalyst Teacher Program developed in Bridgeton provided the supportand incentive for Nancy and John to pursue implementation of a curriculum thatchallenged their existing cultural norms. The findings pointed to considerationsregarding (1) teachers’ interpretation of innovations, (2) cultural change, and(3) scale of change projects; reflection on these concerns and continuing dialoguewith the literature revealed implications for theory, research, and practice.Teachers and CurriculumThe intent of this study was not to test hypotheses or to generate new theory;rather, it was to strengthen the data base of cases that illuminate aspects of thecurriculum implementation process, specifically teachers’ construction of meaningabout the process, and most importantly the effect of a collegial, peer-orientedimplementation program. The data analysis in this study was produced with thehelp of Corbett and Rossman’s qualitative causal network (1989; Figures 3 and 4).The network proved to be useful in its intended role as a sense-making device, onethat brought together a wide array of contextual factors. There was substantialcorroboration of the factors and their relationships identified by Corbett andRossman, with only a few variations arising from the specific circumstances of thiscase (see Figure 4 and discussion, Chapter VIII).Teachers’ practical knowledge. The teachers in this case constructed theirown meanings about the new curriculum and their approach to incorporating it into239practice by interpreting, negotiating with, and ultimately adapting both thedocument and their beliefs about teaching and art until a workable fit could befound. Reflecting on the confidence with which Nancy and John made decisionsabout what was best for their students, I compared the sense of expertise, ofefficacy, that they communicated with the “deficit” view of teachers lamented in theliterature (e.g. McLaughlin & Marsh, 1978). I was struck by the recollection ofConnelly and Clandinin’s “personal practical knowledge” (1985, 1988) and Elbaz’s“practical knowledge” (1981), reframing teachers’ knowledge as an asset rather thana deficit.Nancy and John embody the notions of practical, or tacit, knowledge foundin the examples cited. They hold knowledge of subject matter, of classroomorganization, of students’ needs and abilities, and of their own strengths andweaknesses. This knowledge is bound up in their experiences, their stories ornarratives, as Connelly and Clandinin (1985) call them, and expressed through theconstructs, strategies and reflections culled from the interviews. Elbaz (1981) alsotalks about “images,” which are metaphoric, value-laden, and which guide actionintuitively. “Rules of practice” for Elbaz are like the strategies of Nancy and John:clear statements of method. “Practical principles” hold the reflective aspect ofteachers’ thinking, as they seek to inform present action with past experiences.Acknowledging the existence, and the worth, of teachers’ practical knowledge asvalid, if different from, abstract theoretical knowledge is an important step in240reducing conflict in change efforts, and something that might guide futurecurriculum planning and implementation activity.Empowerment of teachers. There is an inherent conflict between the “top-down” nature of a curriculum innovation introduced at the administrative level, andthe intention to use a peer-centred approach to ensure the success of theimplementation. Even though the aim is to create the kind of socially supportiveenvironment that enhances implementation efforts, the impetus is coming fromoutside--and above.The concept of “empowerment” or “ownership” is often used in describing thebenefits of peer-centred, or collegial, activity (e.g. Glatthorn, 1987; Petra Rogersinterview, 0207). But the change in Bridgeton, as in most cases of the introductionof a new provincial curriculum, was required, inevitable, and essentially structuredand dictated from outside. The eveiyday world of the teacher, discussed in ChapterIII, tends to dilute or inhibit feelings of empowerment because of the isolation mostteachers experience, from each other and from contemplation of their craft, andbecause of the “deficit” view of teachers that encourages them to regard outside“experts” as unquestionably superior authorities. The concern expressed by Nancyabout the shrinking of everything except expectations (see page 203) is related tothis view of teachers that excludes them from such decisions.Nancy and John did defer to the authority and expertise of those who hadwritten the curriculum, and those who planned its implementation. They alsoindicated, however, the practical needs that were not addressed by those experts,241and these needs were expressed with the confidence of experts in the domain ofpractical, daily realities. My strong impression was that these teachers were fully“empowered” behind their own classroom doors to make any decisions necessary forsuccessful practice. Where they lost power was in public justification for theiractions when those actions contravened what they saw as the mandate from higherlevels. Regardless of support provided, “empowerment” is an empty term if there isnot both sufficient professional preparation of those on whom the empowerment isbeing conferred, and sufficient recognition of the already existing expertise of theclassroom teacher. A final thought: The use of the term “empowerment” maysometimes be misleading. If those in authority--writers, planners, consultants--talkabout empowering the teachers to use the curriculum, we need to attend to thecontext of such talk to determine whether the intention is truly to empower teachersto take ownership of the content and process, or only to train them more thoroughlyto follow the letter of the prescribed change.Cultural ChangeA key connection point between this study and the qualitative causal network(Corbett and Rossman, 1989; Figures 3 and 4) focused on the cultural nature ofsignificant or lasting change. Corbett and Rossman (p. 185) stressed that true andlasting change occurred only when the changes were grounded in the school’sculture. By the end of their first year of work with the new curriculum, Nancy andJohn were demonstrating changes in their personal “sacred norms” about the place242of art in their programs through their expressed plans for the next year. Elements inthe culture of Oak Park School that supported acceptance of the new normsincluded the establishment of the Fine Arts Night, the introduction of studentartwork on bulletin boards, and the visible support and leadership of the principalfor Nancy’s role as Catalyst Teacher, and for all efforts at implementation.This study supports Corbett and Rossman’s proposition about theimportance of cultural change. One of the outcomes of this, and similar studies, hasbeen to situate the teachers within a cultural envelope which is at once personal andcommunal. In their interactions, Nancy and John exhibited the kind of mutuallyadaptive behaviour associated with social advancement. Out of their mutualexploration of the new curriculum grew a sense of identification with it, and witheach other.The study also corroborates Riecken’s (1989) thesis, that ‘every school has a‘culture’ which embodies a set of shared beliefs and values, and that any changeinitiatives or innovations will be interpreted and utilized in ways that represent areciprocal interaction between the innovation and the school’s culture” (pp. 3-4,emphasis added). At Oak Park School, this reciprocity was evident. The curriculumimplementation program inspired new or enhanced cultural elements in the school,which in turn encouraged the acceptance by individual teachers of new normssupported by those cultural elements. The culture of Oak Park School alsopresented a barrier in the separation of grade groups which inhibited effective243communication between Nancy as Catalyst Teacher and a primary teacher, and hercolleagues in the intermediate division.In his study, Riecken examined one school’s approach to a schoolimprovement program. Some of the key themes that he found relate closely to myobservations about Nancy and John, and about Oak Park School. Nancy and Johndeveloped shared referents about teaching and learning, and shared strategies thatworked. The principal showed leadership through his expectations, total support,and leading by example as he facilitated some of the cultural changes in the school.Cooperation and communication between Nancy and John were high; opportunitiesfor cooperation and communication were available to the whole staff throughregular staff meetings and new events and activities. While time was not as plentifulas they would have liked, the teachers did have some release time provided whenthe consultants visited, and the time frame for full implementation was more relaxedthan had been the case with earlier curriculum introductions.An important finding in Riecken’s study was that the school improvementprogram strengthened cooperation and ongoing professional development.Cooperation and professional development were two major developments towardswhich the Catalyst Teacher Program in Bridgeton aimed. However, if the collegialbehaviour needed for these developments is imposed, especially in a school wherethe cultural norms support notions of autonomy as privacy, of deference and noninterference, teachers may obey the letter but not the spirit of such a requirement,244and then only because the impetus to act comes through the political path; as soonas administrative vigilance is relaxed, so will the required behaviour.If the implementation of an innovation is more successful in environments inwhich teachers feel a sense of ownership of the process and act in a collegialmanner, those conditions should be separated from, and nurtured prior to, anyother change attempt. There is clearly an error in trying to conflate too manychange attempts: Preparing teachers for ownership and empowerment is a projectin itself, as is the development of a collegial culture within a school or gradedivision. If these are indeed desirable conditions for schools in general, the thrustshould be first toward achieving those conditions. Then the implementation ofother innovations could be introduced in a more positive climate.Scale of ChangeThe broad scale of the change effort involved when a new curriculum isintroduced to an entire province has not yet been seriously considered as a majorimpediment to implementation success. It is time to heed the advice of Fullan(1991):Instead of seeking widespread involvement in the use of a particularinnovation, it may be more stimulate multipleexamples of collaboration among small groups of teachers inside andoutside the school... .Paradoxically, school-wide efforts to implementsingle innovations may have less of an impact on the professionalculture of schools (and thereby on the basic capacity of schools toimprove) than would multiple focused collaborative networks thatbecome “deep, personal and enduring” in the service of improvement(see Hargreaves, 1989) (p. 137).245Reducing the scale of change efforts in this way could also be a culturalchange or, in some schools, the recognition of established cultural patterns. Takingthe change initiative to smaller units, and to already-existing affinity groups, wouldbe one way of circumventing the problems of distancing and status differencesdiscussed above. In schools where such affinity groups did not exist because ofnorms of autonomy as privacy, cultural change would be the first priority in order toestablish patterns of collaboration among small units such as grade divisions.What would the introduction of a new curriculum look like if Fullan’s advicewere followed? One possible scenario would see the provincial ministry retainingresponsibility for producing “master” guidelines that set a general tone for thesubject. Responsibility for detailed interpretation would go immediately to the locallevel, where implementation plans would be developed by consultants working withteacher groups formed according to, for example, grade division, or subject interestor specialty. Depending on the cultural patterns developed in a local area, theseteacher affinity groups might be of long standing in the system, meeting regularly torespond to problems, new concerns, or interests; or they could be formed as neededin response to such events as the publication of a new curriculum. Teachers in thesegroups, as respected experienced practitioners, would have representation to localand provincial administrators in order to communicate needs, successes, andevaluation of change efforts.The importance of such “multiple examples of collaboration” (Fullan, 1991,p. 137) is that it broadens the possibility for dialogue among all areas of the246educational enterprise--theory, research, and practice. The circumstances of theCatalyst Teacher Program in Bridgeton, and the specific case of Nancy and John,point to the importance of such dialogue for increasing the understanding of whatchange means to all participants, but especially to the teachers who must implementchange.Implications for ResearchAdditional case studies are needed to enrich the fund of data that describeand explain how innovations are successfully translated into practice, and thatbroaden the base for comparison among cases. More particularly, longitudinalstudies of cases of early norm acceptance, like that of Nancy and John, would helpto reveal the supportive conditions that seem to ensure the perseverance of thisacceptance, and thus true cultural change for the participating teachers. A largerbody of detailed single-case studies would increase the opportunities for “reader oruser generalizability” (Walker, 1980; Wilson, 1979) by change planners andmanagers at different levels of the education system.At the same time, undertaking an infinite number of case studies will do littlefor the field unless synthesizing studies are also undertaken, to determine broadcategories and to identify areas that are in some cases already over-researched,while others are neglected. Recent efforts to combine phenomenological reports ina genre described as phenomenography might with advantage be paralleled in thearea of school-based research, so that a sense develops in the educational247community of a substantial and significant body of work undertaken so far, and ofdirections that might profitably be pursued.Much, indeed, remains to be done at the micro-level of research:particularly, to satisfy the clients for education research--principals, school boardmembers, Ministry of Education personnel. Principals might look to the example ofa Patrick Edwards for effective support of participation in implementation; theymight heed the concern expressed in this study by Nancy about the relationshipbetween shrinking resources and stationary expectations. School board memberscould enhance their understanding of the need to commit time (and thereforemoney) for the process of implementation, to stand behind that commitment for atleast the agreed period, and to delay judgment and closure until the process hasbeen allowed to run its course. Individuals, from classroom teachers to Ministry ofEducation personnel, who are about to engage in further curriculum developmentcould benefit from specific examples of strategies used with success to encouragelasting acceptance of new nonus and to assist teachers in assimilating the newcurriculum into their practice.Ideally, many of these case studies would be produced from the inside, asaction research. The results would be of immediate local benefit to administrators,school boards, and teacher colleagues, followed by dissemination to the generalpublic of information about positive results of the changes, and extension into theliterature of educational change.248The presence of the researcher in the school is at once useful and natural,and need not interfere with the usual traffic of school affairs. One of the mostpromising aspects of this case was this: Nancy and John never behaved as if theywere doing something unusual. The work of interpreting the new curriculum andintegrating it into their practice was simply part of their job as teachers. That jobwas made less onerous by support and encouragement, and by the promotion ofcultural patterns that preserved their personal sense of efficacy and assisted theirconstruction of new meanings and values around art education, paving the way forearly implementation success.249REFERENCESAlexander, R. (1983). 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USEOFTEEINNOVATIONLevelsofUsearedistinctstatesthatrepresentobeervablydifferent Lwesofbehavior andpattems ofinnovationuseasesbibltedbyiadividualsandgroups.Theselevelscharacterizeauser’sdevelopmentinacquiringnewskillsandvazyinguseoftheinnovation.Eachlevelencompassesarangeofbehaviors, butislimitedbyaseeofidentifiableDedsionPoints.Fardescriptivepurposes, cadslevel isdefinedbysevencateg,ries.LEVEL0NON-USE: Stateinwhichtheuserhaslittleornoknowledgeoftheinnovation,noinvolvemeatwiththeinnovation,andisdoingnothingtowardsbecomingInvolved.DECISIONPOINTALEVELIORIENTA11ON:Stateinwhichtheuserhasacquiredorisacquiringinformationabouttheinnovationand/orhasexploredorisexploringitsvalueorientationanditsdemandsunonuscrandusersystem.DECISIONPOIIVTBIIPREPARATION:Stateinwhichtheuserispreparingfor ifratuseoftheinnovation.DECISIONPOINTCLEVEl.IllMEChANICALUSE:StateInwhichtheuserfocuses mosteffortontheshort-term, day4o-dayuseoftheinnovationwithlittletimeforreflection.Changesinusearemademoretomeetuserneedsthandient needs. Theuserisprimarilyengagedlisastepwiseattempttomaster thetasks requiredtousetheinn.wation,oftenresultingindisjointedandsuperfidaluse.Knowsnothingabout this orsimilarinnovationsorhasonlyvesylimitedgeneralknowledgeofeffortstodevelopinnovationsinthearea.Knowsonaday-todaybasistherequirementsforusingtheIrxnossrtion, Ismoreknowledgeableonabort-termactivitiesandeffectsthanlong-rangeactivitiesandeffects of useof theinnovation.ACQUIRINGINFORMATIONSolidtsinformationabouttheinnovationinavazieryofways,indudingquestioningresourcepersons,correspondingwithresourceagendes.reviewingprintedmaterials,andmakingvisita.Takeslittleornoactiontosoliatinformationbeyondrevtewingdescriptiveinformarion aboutthisorsimilar innovationswhenithappenstocometopersonalattention.theinnovation.SeeksdescriptivematerialabouttheInnovation.Seeksopinionsandknowledgeofothersthroughdiscussion,visits,orworkshops.Solidtsmanagement Informationabout sudsthlngeaslogistics, schedulingtechniquesandideasforredudngaruountoftimeandworkrequiredofuser.DiscussestheInnovationwithothers.Sharcsplans,ideas,reaourow,oairmmes,andproblemsrelatedtouseoftheinnovation.IsDot ecmmunicetingwithothersabouttheinnovatioobeyondpossiblyas*nowledgingthattheInnovationmists.DiscussestheInnovationIngeneraltermsand/orexchangesdescriptiveinformation,materials,orideasaboutrheinnovationandpoasibdeimphicationsDiscussesresourcesneededforInitialuseoftheinnovation.JoinsothersInpro-usetraining,andinplanning,forresources,logIstics.schedules,etc.inpreparationforfirst use.DiscussesmanagemnesitandlogisticalIssuesrelatedtouseof theinnovation.Resources andmaterialsaresharedforpurposesofredudngmanagement,flowandlogistical problems relatedtouseoftheinnovation.CATEGORIESKNOWLEDGEThatwhichtheuserknows aboutcharacteristics oftheinnovation,howtouseit,andounsequencesofitsuse.Thisiscogairiveknowledgerelatedtousingtheinnovation,notfeelingeorattitudes.SHARINGTakesactiontokammorwdetadedinfomrationaboutorigin,characteristics,andimplementationrequirements.MakesadecisiontousetheinnovationbycstaMishingaKnows logisticalrequirements, necessaryresourcesandtimingfor initialuseof theinnovation,anddetailsofinitialexperiencesfor dients.&givsrflvst useof theinnovation.tinsetobegin.ofitsuse.topreparationforuseoftheinnovationinawnsetting.a’Reprintedwithpermission.CopyrightbytheAmericanAssociationofCollegesforTeadserEducation.Hall, GE,Loucks, SY.,emal.,LevelsolUseof theInnovation:AFramneworkforAnalyringlnnovationMoption.’Journal ofTeadserEducation26(1),Spring1915: 52-56.SCALEPOINTDEFINITIONSOFTIlELEVELSOFUSEOFTHEINNOVATIONCATEGORIESLevelsofUsearedistinctStatesthatrepresentobeervablydifferent typesofbebaiorandpatternsofinnovationuseilitedbyindlvidualsandgeoups.Theselevelsthaxactecizeauses’sdevelopmentinacquiringnewskillsandvaiyinguseoftheinnovation.Hashlevelencompassesarangeofbehaviors,butislimitedbyasetofidentifiableDedsionPoints.Fordesaiptivepurposes, nashlevelisdefinedbysevenKNOWLEDGEThatwhidttheuserknows aboutdiaracteristirs oftheinnovation,howtouseit,andconsequences ofitsuse.Thisiscognitiveknowledgerelatedtousingtheinnovation,not feelingsorattitudes.ACQUIRINGINFORMATIONSclidtsInformationabouttheinnovationinavarietyofways.indudingquestioningresourcepersons,correspondingwithresoutonagenctes,reviewing printedmaterials,andmakingvisits.Disaissestheinnovationwithothers.Sharesplans,idcas,resourcea,outcomes,andpmblnnsrelatedtouseoftheinnovation.DECISIONPOJNTD-lAroutine patternofuseisestabMwd.LEVELWAROUTINE:Useoftheinnovationisstabllized.Pewifanydiangesarebeingmade inongoinguse. littlepreparationorthougtt isbeingveatoimprovinginnovationuseoritsconsequences.DE.CISIONFOINTL).2LEVELWBREFINEMENT:Stateinwhiditheuservariestheuaeoftheinnovatioa toincreasotheimpactondientswithinimniediatesphereof influcttc&VariationsarebasedonknowledgeofbothshoeS-andlong-termconsequences fordients.DECISIONPOINTELEVELVINTEGRATION:Stateinwhidcth.useriscomtinlngowneffortstousetheinnovationwithrelatedactivitiesof colleagees toadileveacollectiveimpactondientswithintheircommonsphereofinfluence.Knows cognitiveandaffectiveeffectsoftheInnovationondientaandwaysforincreasingimpactondienta.Soliatsinformationandtnateiial,that(oatsspedflctllyondeangoguseoftheinnovationtoaffect dientoutcomesSolidrainfonnation andopinionsforthepurposeofcollaboratingwiehothersinuseoftheinnovation,Desaibes airrent useoftheinnovationwithlittleornoreferencetowaysofdcannguse.DisaisacseffortstoIncreasedientimpactthrouicollaborationwithothersonpersouatuseoftheinnovaaion.DECIS1ONPOINTFBeginsapiorwgaltcrnativcstoorrnajorrnodtftcationrofinnovation presentlyinuseLEVELVIRENEWAL:Stateinwhidctheuserre-evaluates thequalityofuseoftheinnovation,seeksmajormodiflcationsoforalternativeslopresentinnovationtoachieve increasedimpactondients,examinesnewdevelopmentsinthefield, andexploresnewgoalsforselfandthesystem.Knowsofalternativesthatcouldbeusedtochangeorreplacethepresent innovationthatwouldimprove thequalityofoutcomesof itsuse.Seeksinformationandmaterialsaboutotherinnovationsasalternativestothepressetinnovationorformaking majoradaptationsinthe Innovation.majoralternativesorreplacementstotheairrent Innovation.SHARINGKnowsbothshort-andlong-termrequirementsforuseandhowtousetheinnovationwithminimumeffortorstress.ChangesuseoftheinnovojionbusedonfrsvrnalorinfovrnalMakesnospectal effortstoseekinformationasapartof ongoinguseof theinnovation.evaluationinonisrioincreasedisntcwtconses.Initiateschangesinuseofinnovationbc.sed oninput ofKnowshowtocoordinateownuseofthein.novation withcolleagoeatoprovide acollectiveimpactondienta.oftheInnovationtodcandianioutcomes.andincoordinationwithwhatcolleagues aredoing.cr10%CATEGORIESASSESSINGPLANNINGSfATUSREPORTINGPERFORMINGExaminesthepotentialoractualuseoftheinnovationorsomeaspectofit.Thismabeamentalassessmentorcaninvolveactualcollectionandanalysisof data.LEVEL•Dnignsandoutlinessbort-and/orlong,iangestepstobetakendutingprocessofinnovation,i.e.,alignsresources,sdsedulesactivities,meetswithotherstoorganizeand/orcoordinateuseof theinnovation.Describespersonalstandatthepresenttimeinrelationtouseoftheinnovation.CarriesOutthesctionandactivitiesentailedinoperationalizingtheinnovation.Takesnoactiontoanalyzetheinnovation,itsdiaracteristice,possibleuse,orconsequences ofuse.Sdsedules notime andspedifies nosteps forthe studyoruseoftheinncwation.Reportslittleornopersonalinvolvement withtheinovaLion.Takesnodiscernibleaminotowardlearningaboutorusingtheinnovation.TheinnovationantVoritsaccouteymentsarenot presentorinuse.Analyzesandcomparesmaterials,content,requirementsforuse,evaluationreports, potentialoutcomes, strenhsandweaknessesfor purposeofmaking adedsionaboutuseoftheinnovation.LEVELIIPlanstogathesnecessaiyinformationandresourcesasneededtomakeaderisionfororagainst useoftheinnovation.Reportspresentlyorientingselftowhattheinnovationisandisnot.ExplorestheInnovationandrequiicments(oritsusel’talkingtoothersaboutit,res4vlngdescriptiveinformationandsamplematerials,attendingorientationsessions,andotbersingothersusing it.Analyzesdetailedrequirenientsandavailableresoitremforinitialuseoftheinnovatioss.LEVELIIIIdentifiesstepsandproceduresentailedinobtainingresourcesand organizing activitiesandeventsforinitialuseoftheinnovation.Reportspreparingselfforinitialuseoftheinnovation.StudiesreferencematerialsIndepth,organizesresourcesandlogistica,ediedulesandreceivesskilltraininginpreparationforinitial use.Examinesownuseoftheinnovationwithrespect toproblems oflogistics,nasrng..ent,time,soisedules,resources,andgeneral reactionsofdients.andeventsrelatedprimarilytoimmediateongning useoftheinnovation.Planned-fordsangesaddressmanagerialorlogisticalissueswithashort-termperspective.Reportsthatlogistics, time,management,resouronorganization.etc.arethefoosofmostpersonaleffortstousetheinnovation.Managesinnovationwitbvaryingdegreesofedenqc.Oftenindiasntidpadonoflmmedlatccosisequessots.TheflowofactionsintheuseranddientsIsoftendisjointed, unevenandunosrtaln.Wheadiangesaremadc,theyareplinwilyInresponsetologisticalandorgenlzatlonal problems.0%CATEGORIESASSESSINGPLANNINGSTATUSREPORTINGPERFORMINGEsamineathepotentialoractualuseoftheinnovationorsomeaspectofit.Thisennbeamentalassessmentormninvolveactualcollectionandanalysisofdata.LEVELWAtakeaduringprocesaofinnovationadoption,i.e.,alignsresources,schedulesactivities,meetswithotherstoorganizeand/orcoordinateuseoftheinnovation.Describespersonalstandatthepresenttimeinrelationtouseoftheinnovation.Camesouttheactionsandactivitiesentailedinoperatlonslizingtheinnovation.limitsevaluationactivitiestothoseadniinistiativelyrequired,withlittleattentionpaidtofindings forthepurposeof changing use.LEVELIVBAssessesuseof theinncwasionforthepurposeofchangingcorrentpiacticeatoimproveclientoutcomes.Plansintermediateandlong-rangeactionswithtildeprojectedvanatioainhowtheinnovationwillbeused.Planningfoassesonroutineuscofresources,personnel,etc.DevelopsintemsediaXeandlong-rangeplansthatauticapatepossibleandneededsteps,resources,andeventsdesignedtoenhanceclientoutcomes.Reportsthatpersonaluseoftheiwiovationisgaingalong aatinhctorilywithfewifanyproblems.Reportsvatyinguseoftheinnovationinordertochangeclient outcome,.Usestheinnovationsmoothlywithminimalmge”sentprobleana;overtime,thereis lildevatiation in patternofuse.Exploresandexperiment,withalternatIvecombinatlonioftheInnovationwithmistingpracticestornasimlzcclientinvolvementandtooptimizeclientoutcomes.ofclientoutcomesandstrengthsandwealrneases oftheintegratedeffort.LEVELVIPlansspetificactionstocoordinateownuseoftheinnovationwithothers toachieveinemasedimpactoncheats.Reportsspendingtimeandenergscollaboratingwithothersaboutintegratingownuseoftheinnovation.Collaborateswithother, inuseoftheinnovation aaameansforcspandlngtheinnovaaicn’a Impactonclients.L1angeainusearemadeincoordinationwithothers.Analyzesadvantagesanddisadvantagesofmajormodificetionsoralternative,tothepresentinnovation.Plansactivitiesthatinvolvepursuitofalternativestoenhanceorreplace theinnovation.Reportsconsidezingmajor modificationsoforalternativestopresent useoftheinnovation.usedincomblnatlcmwithorInplac,ofthepresent innovationInanattempttodevelopmoreeffectivemeansofadulevingdlentoutcome,.LEVELVrn265APPENDIX B: THE “VIEWING PROCESS” IN THESASKATCHEWAN CURRICULUMThis process is explained at each grade level. The summary below refers tothe Grade one document (Saskatchewan Education, 1991, pp. 304-307). A briefintroduction notes that the process “can be used for viewing any art work includingcraft, fine arts, traditional arts, commercial art and the mass media, as long asappropriate questions are asked at each stage” (p. 304). The concept of viewing asan interaction between viewer and artwork is discussed, as well as the notion thatindividual viewers’ perspectives will differ widely and will affect their perception ofthe works.The Viewing Process is presented as a seven-step activity. It has beenadapted from several sources: Anderson, 1988; Clark, 1960; Feldman, 1987; andMahon Jones, 1986. The seven steps are:1. PREPARATION: Setting a comfortable and trusting environment;communicating the idea that viewing is a discovery process rather than the occasionfor the transmission of “correct” information.2. FIRST IMPRESSIONS: An opportunity to vent first spontaneous reactions, torecord them for later comparison.3. DESCRIPTION: A brief inventory of the simple visual “facts” of the image orobject viewed, for example: names of shapes or objects; names of colours; thematerials used to create it; and so on.4. ANALYSIS: Looking for the centre of attention in the work; what devices theartist has used to draw our attention; relationships of colour, size, space.5. INTERPRETATION: “The stage where the students’ own perspectives,associations and experiences meet with ‘the evidence’ found in the work of art” (p.306). Students might be asked to articulate the theme of the work, the artist’spossible reason for making it, the meaning of the work. Interpretations might beexpressed through discussion, journals, poetry, visual art, and so on.6. BACKGROUND INFORMATION: An opportunity to explore and to find outmore about the artist or the work, using books, galleries, and visitors.7. INFORMED JUDGMENT: A “reflective activity” (p. 307). This is the timewhen first impressions can be recalled to see if and how they have changed; or tothink of other works that seem similar; or to note ways of applying what has beenlearned from this work in personal work.266APPENDIX C: LEVELS OF USE: NANCY AND JOHNLEVEL KNOW- ACQUIR- SHARING ASSESS- PLAN- STATUS PERFORLEDGE INGIN- ING NING REPORT- MINGPORMA- INGTION0I N,JII N N N NIII N N N,J N,J N,JIVA J NWBy N NVIN = Nancy Cansler (as classroom teacher)N = Nancy Cansler (as Catalyst Teacher)J = John DanaWhen one teacher is shown at two different levels in the same category, that indicatesevidence of movement between categories. (See Chapter VII for full discussion of theseplacements.)


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