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In the name of democracy : the work of women teachers in Toronto and Vancouver, 1945-1960 Llewellyn, Kristina R. 2006

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IN THE NAME OF DEMOCRACY: THE WORK OF WOMEN TEACHERS IN TORONTO AND VANCOUVER, 1945-1960 by KRISTINA R. LLEWELLYN  M.A., Ontario Institute for Studies in Education of the University of Toronto, 2002 B.Ed., Queen's University, 2000 B.A. (Honours), Queen's University, 1999 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES Educational Studies  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA July, 2006  © Kristina R. Llewellyn, 2006  Abstract  In the Name of Democracy: The Work of Women Teachers in Toronto and Vancouver, 19451960, examines the limits of educational 'democracy' for women educators. Educational administrators across the political spectrum assumed separate spheres to be intrinsic to the social contract for 'good' citizenship: the school as a public institution was dedicated to the rational, autonomous, politically engaged subject. 'Woman' was not that subject. This thesis demonstrates that women were quasi-citizens in the public school, yet leaders in the delivery of democratic hope for the age. O n the one hand, women teachers were encouraged to participate in the increasingly 'democratized' institution of the public secondary school and were embraced as necessary participants in the labour market o f the education system. In the years after the Second Great War, the reconstitution of the social order depended upon their performance. O n the other hand, the maintenance of traditional gender roles, disrupted by the trauma of war, was still heralded as women's primary contribution to the nation's stability. While women teachers acted within public institutions, their role remained defined by their private sphere 'capabilities' and a gendered model of citizenship that promised security through the performance o f educational 'democracy.' This thesis employs a feminist analysis that centers on women teachers' oral histories to illuminate both the normative democratic order of the period and the ways that women negotiated its boundaries. In particular, it combines modernist concerns for social structure and common oppression with poststructuralism's concern for hierarchies o f identification and difference. Both the common and discrete experiences of women teachers reveal that educational 'democracy' was far from gender-blind in post-war Canada.  n  T a b l e of Contents  Abstract  .....ii  Table of Contents  iii  Acknowledgements  iv  Introduction Women Teachers, Democracy and Canada's Educational Past  1  Chapter 1 Productive Tensions: Feminist Readings of Women Teachers' Oral Histories  26  Chapter 2 The Post-WWII Objectives for Educational 'Democracy' in Secondary Schools  55  Chapter 3 'Democratic' Knowledge, Teacher Professionalism, and the 'Female' Weak Link  116  Chapter 4 Performing Post-war Citizenship: Moral 'Democracy' and the 'Woman' Teacher  161  Chapter 5 More Responsibility, Less Power: A Gendered Participatory 'Democracy' for Schools...201 Conclusion  246  Bibliography  252  Appendix I Biographical Sketches of Interviewees  .277  Appendix II Contact Letter to Interviewees  292  Appendix III Consent Form  295  Appendix IV Interview Guide..  299  in  Acknowledgements  I was extremely fortunate to have many people guide me through the journey to doctoral completion. This journey has meant not only producing this thesis, but developing my political and private identity as a scholar. Each member of my supervising committee is a remarkable model for women in academia. My supervisor, Veronica Strong-Boag, conveys not only strength of scholarship, but character as she has continued to support all areas of my progress during very difficult times for her family. She has always exhibited a quiet confidence in my ability to succeed, while challenging me to embrace opportunities for teaching and publishing. Her detailed readings of earlier thesis drafts were invaluable. Mona Gleason also provided a careful reading, with thoughtful suggestions that made this thesis that much stronger. Mona is an incredible source of motivation as she balances rigorous scholarship with good humour and a positive approach to life. Jean Barman demonstrates unwavering commitment to student productivity and creativity. Despite retiring from the Faculty, Jean did not compromise her support of my work. She guided me through even the smallest details of writing. Nikki, Mona and Jean are a true team of mentors that every doctoral student wishes for in their journey. I was also fortunate to work and live in collegial environments at UBC. Green College was a unique residence where a vibrant community of inter-disciplinary scholars engaged in my research. I am grateful to many of these scholars for their encouragement and friendship. The Centre for Research in Women's Studies and Gender Relations, where I had the privilege to teach, is a nurturing and energetic space for new scholars. I appreciated being among academics who made teaching a priority.  iv  This research could not have been without the participation o f the women interviewed. They were more than generous with their time, homes, and memories. I am grateful for their trust in me as a researcher and I admire their contributions to Canada's education systems. I also extend appreciation to the many teachers, administrators and women who took an early interest in this project and put me in touch with the women interviewed. This research was also made possible by staff at numerous libraries and archives. In Toronto, archivists at the Toronto Board o f Education and with G T S E / U T ' s historical collection were welcoming and attentive to m y research needs. Staff at the Vancouver City Archives and those with the British Columbia Teachers' Federation, particularly the records manager David Stange, went above and beyond their jobs to ensure m y research went smoothly and was comprehensive. I had the privilege o f time for this research because o f the financial support o f the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council o f Canada. It is m y family to whom I must offer the greatest acknowledgement o f thanks. Their support is not something I can adequately represent i n this forum. I recognize in particular the gifts o f m y grandmother, Jean M a c K a y , who died in September. She passed on to me her own dreams o f higher education and embodied a feminine spirit o f caring and fortitude within community that I w i l l forever attempt to emulate. She allowed me to conduct m y first oral history with her over nine years ago, and that interview is a lasting treasure for our family. M y grandfather, Raymond M a c K a y , who passed away i n M a y , trained me in the art o f listening and telling stories from a very young age. H e was what I like to think o f as an 'everyday' historian. H e valued on a daily basis the lessons o f his own past, remembrances o f our family's experiences, and memories o f the nation's development.  v  M y parents, Karen M a c K a y Llewellyn and Hallett Llewellyn, have lived the joys and frustrations o f this doctoral journey every step o f the way. They have expressed unconditional love with countless conversations on m y research, readings o f thesis drafts, and faithful emotional assurances. I have learned from their life's work the fulfillment people can derive from passionate, political engagement in issues o f social justice. M y admiration, love, and appreciation for them run deep. These emotions follow for m y sister Jennifer Llewellyn, brother-in-law Blake B r o w n and nephew Owen Llewellyn-Brown. Jennifer is an inspiring example o f an academic committed to social change i n our society. She is equally devoted to her family. I have relied upon her encouragement and friendship throughout this process. The love o f m y partner o f eleven years, Todd Arsenault, ensured m y dedication to doctoral studies. He is a uniquely giving person who finds every j o y in life and shares those joys with his loved ones. With many library trips, walks for a break from writing, and discussions o f m y work, he has supported, and continues to support, m y commitment to feminist research and activism. W i t h the love o f m y family and friends, m y journey as a feminist scholar has just begun.  vi  Introduction Women Teachers, Democracy and Canada's Educational History  The work o f women teachers in post-WWII secondary schools reveals the limits o f Canadian democracy. O n the one hand, women teachers were encouraged to participate in the increasingly 'democratized' institution o f the public secondary school and embraced as necessary participants in the labour market o f the education system. The reconstitution o f the normal post-war social order depended upon their performance. O n the other hand, traditional gender roles, disrupted by the trauma o f war, were still heralded as women's primary contribution to the nation's stability. W h i l e women teachers acted within public institutions, their role remained defined by their private sphere 'capabilities' and gendered model o f citizenship that promised security through the performance o f educational 'democracy.' In the 1940s and 1950s Canada's schools embraced democracy as their primary goal. A t the beginning o f the twenty-first century, that spirit seems to have returned. In response to perceived threats to national and global security political officials' and school administrators' once again heighten the rhetoric o f egalitarian rule, and tout policies for equal educational opportunities. Democracy is far more than a constitutional, legal, and political arrangement. It is also a social contract that presumes a common citizenship that transcends differences, including those based on class, race, ethnicity, sexuality, and gender. The public school, particularly at the secondary level, has been and is responsible for producing that binding social contract among the nation's future adults. Its role extends beyond teaching a particular political system. Students are to acquire and practice the  1  knowledge, values, and attitudes, consistent with state laws and regulations, to live democratically.  1  A s it was understood and practiced in the years after W W I I , educational democracy failed often to deliver the fundamental freedoms to students, teachers, or community. The reason is the dominant liberal ideology o f the day, an abstract concept o f state citizenship that proffered anyone could have an equal part as participants. A s historians have revealed concerning Canada's past, it has been only those with privileged identities, including dominant masculinities, who had the power to assume the place o f legitimate citizen. Our schools were part o f perpetuating this 'nameless, faceless entity' that attempted to mask systemic inequalities o f 'the people' for the nation. Women, along with groups identified as 'Other,' were deeply affected by these abstract notions. A n examination o f women teachers in post-WWII illustrates how educational democracy has too often failed to deliver on the promises o f freedom, autonomy, and equality. This thesis aims to provide an empirical application o f the work o f feminist theorists, from political science to sociology, who in the late twentieth-century challenged historical definitions o f gendered citizenship. This study also draws upon recent studies by feminist scholars o f education who examine how schooling shapes the concept o f democracy and citizenship identities according to gender and in relation to diverse social locations. This project does not offer a development o f political theory for women in a governing order. Instead, it draws upon the comprehensive and critical analysis o f the relationship among gender, education and democracy provided by feminist theorists.  3  The growing body o f  research in this field has informed the framework and questions I have employed i n m y appraisal o f women teachers in Canada's post-war liberal educational 'democracy.'  2  Noteworthy among this field are Carole Pateman's texts, from The Sexual Contract to The Disorder of Women. They provide the most influential theoretical depictions o f the centrality o f the masculine citizen i n the liberal democratic project.  4  Pateman argues that the  democratic social contract, constructed by European political philosophers, was founded upon a sexual contract based on the distinction between public and private spheres. In this contract, women's sexual, economic and political agency is dependent upon and excluded from men's prevailing power in the public world. Western philosophical tradition asserted that the public/private divide was the 'natural order.' Women's 'inherent' concerns for family, and thus women's agency itself, are almost like a sideshow, albeit always critical, to public debates and the determination o f national citizenship. A number o f feminist scholars, including Anne Phillips, have joined Pateman to show that the production o f the masculine as synonymous with citizen has not simply resulted in women's exclusion from the state, but their simultaneous 'secondary' inclusion.  5  Women are a critical 'Other' i n substantiating the basis for ideal citizenship, namely, the rational, objective, politically autonomous individual, the alpha male who can freely contribute to the production o f a democratic order. The "universal, faceless historical citizen o f public discourse was almost universally male" as the supposed sexual, weak, and irrational ' W o m a n ' could not, as decreed by nature itself, support roles beyond the private sphere.  6  Promises o f autonomy, freedom and equal membership within community do not  then cut across the hierarchical structure o f a diverse society. Instead, women, and others 7  who cannot prescribe to dominant conceptions o f masculinity, are marginalized. Feminist researchers, in particular socialist, post-colonial and lesbian scholars, have been particularly attuned to the need for complicating the public/private divide, illustrating that women, among themselves, live the effects o f gender binaries in very different ways.  3  N i r a Yuval-Davis argues that nationalist rhetoric o f democratic order not only legitimates the dominance o f male super-ordinance, but circumscribes all those who position themselves, or are positioned, by cultural renderings o f gender on the margins o f the state, as 'non-citizens.'  She writes: "the study o f citizenship should consider the issue o f women's  citizenship not only by contrast to that o f men, but also in relation to women's affiliation to dominant or subordinate groups, their ethnicity, origin, and urban or rural residence."  9  Pateman explains that social contract theory was most influential in shaping social institutions from the 1840s to 1970s. Thereafter, social movements mobilized to fight for diversity o f political representation and v o i c e .  10  Feminist scholars o f education have shown  the long-lasting implications for schooling. Liberal democracy's conception o f privacy, sexuality and marriage, as related to gender binaries, has significantly shaped contemporary education systems, framed as they are by public discourses o f nationalist citizenship.  11  Studies now examine pedagogy as a tool for deconstructing phallocentric knowledge or social interactions i n the classroom, the school's disciplining o f the student body for particular subjectivities, specifically hetero-normativity, and the regulation o f gender through selective educational reforms and accountability measures.  12  In the course o f their  investigations, researchers have addressed the ways students, and the school community, are exposed to definitions of'the ideal citizen' from textbooks to technology. These then construct their view o f political agency within the gendered civic sphere. Female students and their women teachers learn the limitations o f their political participation. Democracy in the Kitchen by Valerie Walkerdine and Helen Lucey, and Jo-Anne Dillabough's investigations o f the construction o f the modern teacher, have particular relevance for this thesis. They are each concerned with Pateman's public/private split for British schooling o f 'democratic' identities and the woman teacher's role in that process.  4  Walkerdine and Lucey provide a post-structuralist analysis o f equal opportunities rhetoric from the post-war period to the 1980s.  13  They argue that 'democratic' education produces  regulatory fictions, such as choice and autonomy, which subordinate social identities that do not produce 'the right citizen': the ideal bourgeois male. Children learn illusions o f their 'free-will,' a non-coercive technique to manage a citizenry, from mothers and women teachers who, as 'naturally' non-authoritarian nurturers, are responsible for safeguarding masculine models o f democracy that subordinate female political, social and professional powers. Jo-Anne Dillabough builds upon these insights with a closer examination o f the political identification o f women teachers.  14  She examines teacher educators' memories o f  the lived experiences o f regulatory citizenship and explores the way women lived the paradox o f being socially constructed as 'non-citizens,' due to their domestic ties, yet simultaneously responsible for the socialization o f a new generation o f citizens in the service profession o f teaching. The importance o f investigations by Walkerdine and Lucey and Dillabough lies i n their analysis o f the symbolic, discursive practices and social, structural constraints o f masculine narratives o f democracy. More significantly, they ask how these narratives intersect with those individuals, particularly women, who are charged with living out and/or reproducing that citizenship. This thesis uses their conceptual lenses to analyze the underexplored relationship between the governance o f gendered identities in Canadian education and women's shifting experiences o f that governance. The pages that follow offer an educational history that deconstructs a contextually and temporally specific invocation o f 'democracy.' It simultaneously builds on and challenges the often abstract dimension o f the concept o f democracy, which attempts to mask its hegemonic power inequalities. I examine Canadian 'egalitarianism' rhetoric from  5  1945 to 1960, a period especially preoccupied with the question o f national identity. M o r e specifically, I look to Vancouver and Toronto public secondary schools, which provide a regional comparison o f nationalist rhetoric through the country's two largest English school boards. Although national discussions o f education often include all levels o f schooling, this work targets the objectives for secondary schools, the primary sites for citizenship gatekeeping. The secondary school was critical to ensuring collective security through its assumption o f the superiority o f Western political rule. In worried acknowledgement o f this key function, Z . S. Phimister, Superintendent and Chief Inspector o f Schools i n Toronto, noted in 1947 that: "People turn to the school after the war.. . i n the faint hope that the school may be able to do something which w i l l make it possible for the next generation to avoid another calamity."  15  M y analysis seeks to explain this hope and asks: how was educational  'democracy' constructed as a universalizing narrative, and what were its specific meanings for the agenda o f post-war schools? H o w did official, educational and academic discourses construct privileged identities o f citizenship and insert them into secondary schools, an increasingly common experience for Canadian youth, i n the name o f 'democracy?' M o r e specifically, how were 'master' narratives of'democracy' gendered? 'Officials' narratives are understood i n this thesis i n relation to women teachers' oral histories.  16  The latter illustrate how women teachers saw themselves positioned as  marginalized, 'private' representatives for democracy, and, contradictorily, included as potential agents o f change in the production o f the 'egalitarian' platform for the school and the nation. In its centering o f female professionals, this thesis poses the questions: how did masculine constructions o f educational 'democracy' function for women teachers whose capacity for authority and political power were tenuous i n the post-war context? A t a practical level, how did women teachers reconcile their public duty as agents for citizenship  6  with a femininity relegated to the private sphere? H o w were the gendered contradictions these women experienced characterized by their social status o f marriage, age, region, class, sexuality and ethnicity, and affected b y the subject matter, credentials, and promotion o f their school-bound status? In sum, In the Name of Democracy, addresses the shifts i n educational discourse and policy that occurred after the Second W o r l d War. What in other words happened to a 'master' narrative o f masculine normality, which shaped the teaching o f democratic order for the next generation o f Canadian citizenry? In deconstructing the multiple messages o f these years, this thesis seeks to illuminate both the normative democratic order and the ways that women teachers negotiated its boundaries. I argue that democracy was a regulatory discourse for women's lives despite the very contested and complex messages it enveloped. Regulatory discourses are, as M i c h e l Foucault argues and feminist scholars have illuminated, historically contingent strategies, whereby processes o f differentiation and homogenizing label some qualities as good and others as b a d .  17  If a regulatory discourse is successful then it becomes, as Antonio Gramsci  argues, hegemonic. Hegemony favours a ruling group, who, though not always consciously, manufactures seemingly spontaneous consent from subordinate groups to guarantee social 18  order.  In order for discourses to be hegemonic, Gramsci notes they must contain conflicts  by addressing counter-hegemonic ideals within the dominant consent.  19  The boundaries o f a  legitimate social order, in this case 'democracy,' are unstable, temporary, transgressive and produce conflicting meanings. W i t h i n the context o f post-war reconstruction, efforts to put forth a stable and, thus, 'superior' democratic nation necessarily embodied the consolidation o f dissenting or conflicting ideals. Transgressive boundaries became an inherent part o f a post-war national social order that sought stability. In other words, the deviant or the  7  forbidden were regularly in plain sight as their very existence was employed to justify the status quo. Andrew Ross argues that no period better exhibits the creation o f consensus described by Gramsci's concept o f hegemony than the decades after the Second W o r l d W a r 20  in the United States.  The same can be said o f Canada. This 'freedom' era is at times  memorialized as a golden period in our collective memory. C o l d W a r atomic threats, global decolonization movements, and agitations for civil rights sometimes barely seem to disturb the intrinsic harmony. Canadian historians have begun, however, to explore the inequities o f the post-war era with its heightened popularity for 'liberal' democracy. Shirley Tillotson and M o n a Gleason, among others, have demonstrated that the popularization o f liberal 'democratic' rhetoric emerged as a national internal defense against the uncertainties o f the age.  21  These changes were the basis for the ' C o l d War mentality' o f the era by which social  authorities forwarded an agenda that acquiesced to reform in so far as it contained dissension and radicalism. The primary model o f internal defense was to champion national 'togetherness' under the liberal pluralist banner o f a fully democratic, egalitarian nation.  22  'Commonality' and 'stability' were defined according to a desired, hegemonic 'norm': English, middle class, white, Protestant, and heterosexual citizenship. Even as state reforms moved towards equity in the name o f a stable and free nation, their invocation remained firmly set within conservative ideals. Various scholars have noted that the post-war Canadian government sought to ensure public entitlements, including renewed social security initiatives, such as health insurance, unemployment insurance, and 23  workmen's compensation.  These initiatives included specific promises to women,  including fair remuneration and the elimination o f a marriage bar for female civic employees. Such Fordism, however, was premised on the independence o f the private realm 8  o f the family, which was still very much consigned to women as the mothers o f the nation. B y definition women could only be quasi-citizens and thus secondary workers i n the public world o f liberties. M e n were, by contrast, long-term participants i n the labour market with rights to authority and knowledge in the public w o r l d .  25  Given the citizenship function o f the secondary school, objectives for education reflected the progressive-conservatism o f state initiatives. A s such, a gender hierarchy, marked by class, race and sexuality was an implicit part o f the educational agenda for 'democracy.' The woman teacher, as quasi-citizen, was designated a limited role in the implementation o f this agenda. L i k e their treatment o f the post-WWII period generally, historians have not typically highlighted change from the traditional patterns o f schooling.  26  Shifts toward the democratization o f education are often characterized as the influence o f progressivism.  There is a need to go beyond the typical progressive/traditional debate;  adherents to both theories o f education embraced post-war 'democratic' rhetoric as the primary lesson for secondary schools. While these theories were certainly incompatible i n many ways, their commonalities were pronounced for educators as they upheld the nation's liberal social order and its conservative ideal o f citizenship. Secondary schools in Vancouver and Toronto responded to hegemonic and national calls for 'democratization.' Major trends included: increased universal access to secondary education, with streamed programming to address individual learning needs; a growth in social services for character education within the school; and increased participation by each member o f the school community, through decentralized decision-making initiatives. These reforms were the school's visible commitment to equal opportunity, freedom o f personal expression and individual political autonomy. The ideal citizen produced through this programming was a knowledgeable worker who, through self-governance and the needs o f  9  the state, practiced Christian, capitalist, nuclear family values. Educational administrators across the political spectrum affirmed the separate spheres o f the social contract for 'good' citizenship: the school as a public institution was dedicated to the rational, autonomous, politically engaged subject. ' W o m a n ' was not that subject. Women were critical to the nuclear family, and thus private creatures who, obligated to children and husbands, could not be astute political representatives o f the public, democratic world. Women teachers therefore were symbolically excluded from educational 'democracy.' Most school officials characterized them as tenuous professionals, with a fundamental lack o f commitment to public life and the potential irrationality o f the 'weaker' sex. A t the same time, they were included not only as necessary workers during a labour shortage, but as the 'motherly' guardians of'democratic' moral order. A s 'angels' in a modern school house, school officials idealized the service o f women teachers' work even as they left the real power to produce and manage educational democracy to rational, autonomous public men. Women's oral histories illustrate localized forms o f marginalization. Even years later, the women interviewed negotiate the prevailing acceptance o f the post-war abstract idea o f women's inferiority within 'democratic' education. Specifically, they comment on professional discourses that barred them from knowledge claims and promotional credentials. They also speak to intense surveillance o f their 'moral' life choices, especially marriage and motherhood, and their physical appearance. Instances o f commonality, quite often in the oral histories, exhibit the point at which national discourses meet the local gender subjectivities. A s such, the women speak to public policies o f gender discrimination as they relate to more innocuous forms o f discrimination concerning the 'private' realm. They reveal, for example, how their choice o f dress was part o f character education and symbolic o f the nation's faith in heterosexual coupling for social stability. Their oral  10  histories also present individual variations, shaped by their specific positions i n Vancouver and Toronto secondary schools. The women who possessed graduate degrees, rather than temporary certificates, were more confident in their claims to a 'masculine,' detached and rational model o f professionalism. Stories also demonstrate isolated cases o f overt discrimination, which differed according to social locations; primarily the interviewees are white, urban and middle-class women, but sexuality, ethnicity, and marriage provide opportunities for tension and contradiction. Women who embodied the white, middle class, and heterosexual ideal o f citizenship, as opposed to those who were Chinese, lesbian or working-class, appeared more comfortable taking on the role o f moral guardian for the school and the nation. Discrimination was not the only message. These women also revealed their agency in negotiating educational 'democracy.' They were, therefore, neither the dupes o f 'democracy' nor radical dissenters to prevailing codes. This agency came through 'everyday' means, rather than formal feminist actions. They nonetheless sometimes broke the bounds o f their private sphere 'capabilities' to insert themselves as stakeholders in public discourses o f citizenship, albeit with limited powers.  They depicted their teaching selves  as change-makers both structurally, i n term o f their post-war work lives, and symbolically, in terms o f their representation during the interview process. For example, some women declared themselves to be the effective head o f department within an all-woman subject area, like girls' physical education, even when they were denied official promotion. Other women described themselves as taking over the prescribed curriculum through their own pace, methods and lessons. In declaring these forms o f resistance, their oral histories, like the debates among education officials, demonstrate the contestable character o f hegemonic 'democratic' discourse.  11  Agency was shaped by each woman's social and work context. Some women spoke o f supportive colleagues, while others admitted to working i n an atmosphere steeped in harassment and intimidation. Talk o f resistance also depended upon the availability o f discourses for each woman to frame herself as a respectable and 'good' teacher. A ChineseCanadian interviewee argued that she not only struggled to prove herself as a professional, but that she needed to 'appear' Caucasian. Without the oral histories o f these women's experiences the process o f citizenship inclusion and exclusion or the relationship education can solidify between national discourses and local identities cannot be fully understood. The women's oral histories are also dependent upon m y sampling, interviewing, and analysis.  29  This study was based on twenty interviews with women who had taught in  secondary schools, ten each from Vancouver and Toronto. The Toronto interviews were completed as part o f an earlier project on the history o f women teachers i n 2002, which focused more generally on the relationship between post-war policy and teachers' practice. These transcripts were revisited in detail. Participants for the Vancouver interviews, completed in 2005, were located and interviewed through much the same process as the Toronto group. Nonetheless, I conducted the Vancouver interviews with a more explicit agenda o f democracy and education. W h i l e both groups resisted what they often deemed to be irrelevant discussion o f governance for their teaching lives, the Vancouver women at times spoke more readily to themes o f citizenship i n their philosophies o f teaching and interactions with students. To participate in the study, interviewees had to have taught i n a secondary school in the Toronto or Vancouver School Board for at least two years between 1945 and 1960. The only other criterion for selection was their obvious willingness to discuss their work, and at times private lives during that period. Some women contacted declined participation  12  because detailed discussion created discomfort. They may have feared disrupting their reputation as teachers. Even an initial newsletter call in their community clubs or retired teachers' associations did not entirely guarantee participation. The women said that they did not believe in the historical significance o f their lives for educational research until persuaded by a fellow teacher, friend or colleague. The women who agreed to be interviewed were thus secured by a snowball, word-of-mouth chain o f recruitment. For the most part, respondents were in their eighties and the post-war period marked the beginning o f their teaching careers. A little less than half o f the women had their teaching interrupted by marriage and/or children i n the 1940s and 1950s. Regardless o f marital status, the majority identified as middle-class, white, Anglo-Saxon. A number spoke o f working-class upbringings, especially during the Depression years but marriage brought a rise i n social economic-status. Only two identified with a further marginalized social group, one as a lesbian, although not 'out' in her teaching days, and another as one o f the first Chinese-Canadian women to teach i n a secondary school i n British Columbia. A s a group, these profiles obviously do not represent the diversity o f women's experiences. They do, however, represent the typical woman teacher hired to work in post-war secondary schools. M a n y o f the women fit the characteristics o f ideal post-war citizenship: white, Christian, heterosexual, and middle class. The interview process itself was a semi-structured, open-ended question format o f approximately two to three hours i n length conducted in their homes. The interviewees answered biographical questions about issues from birth to retirement, including their current reflections on education. Their answers provided a context for their memories o f such matters as teacher education, workload and daily responsibilities, interactions with students, colleagues and administrators, pedagogical philosophies, curriculum development  13  and instructional methods. While oral historians hope for a close fit i n terms o f interpretation o f events between participants and researcher, the women were aware that I would be interpreting their stories according to m y own research agenda. In accordance with ethical procedures, the interviewees knew the objectives o f the project and their rights. They were not provided with a copy o f their transcript for editing. I have made, however, every attempt to avoid co-option or distortion o f their opinions. Furthermore, I have tried to protect their anonymity by providing pseudonyms and eliminating clearly identifying information. I use the first name o f each woman teacher's pseudonym when repeatedly identifying her oral history. Archival records have been used to assist in understanding the formation o f women's oral histories as an ideological struggle for agency within patriarchal institutions and discourses. Beneficial collections were found at the Toronto District School Board Sesquicentennial Museum and Archives, Ontario Institute for Studies in Education o f the University o f Toronto's Ontario Historical Education Collection, City o f Vancouver Archives, and the British Columbia Teachers' Federation Archives. These provided access to newspaper clippings on education, school board minutes, annual reports, curriculum guidelines, government legislation to regulate administration, teacher education and school board organization, provincial commission reports, and federation newsletters, committee papers and policy documents.  W h i l e these sources are used to understand 'senior' official  objectives for Toronto and Vancouver secondary schools, they also provide basic statistical data such as pay scales and teacher demographics. Despite the relative accessibility o f primary sources, the work o f women teachers in twentieth-century Canada is greatly under-researched within what is otherwise a vibrant field o f educational history. L i k e Canadian history more generally, the history o f education was  14  initially written as a story o f nationhood missing many o f the people who worked for its creation.  Teachers, pupils and even parents started to garner the attention o f social,  sometimes educational, historians i n the 1970s.  32  Feminist historians quickly became a part  o f this historiographical turn. B y the mid-1980s, Patrick Harrigan in an article on the comparative perspective o f trends in educational history argued that Canadian scholarship had taken the international lead in its attention to women's schooling. noted pioneers, such as A l i s o n Prentice and Marta D a n y l e w y c z .  33  In particular, he  34  In the first comprehensive collection on women teachers, covering Australia, Britain, Canada and the United States, editors A l i s o n Prentice and Marjorie Theobald acknowledged that such projects supplied a corrective to the history o f male educators establishing state 35  school bureaucracies.  They argued that feminist historians were revisionists, challenging  the presentation o f women teachers as either victims or unwitting perpetuators o f gendered school structures (i.e. young, naive, rural teachers who were being used for cheap labour). This collection set out a goal, which scholars have since attempted to fulfill, namely, to know the various perspectives o f women who taught and their contradictory positioning within patriarchal schooling. Their work on biographies o f schoolmistresses and the bureaucracy o f school systems; the experiences o f governesses in dame schools or Catholic convents; and the feminization o f public school teaching, based on women's low status and pay laid the foundation for a thriving field o f study. Despite this promising start, only a few scholarly articles and unpublished manuscripts have been produced on the history o f women teachers in Canada - scholars i n others countries have now taken the lead. The gap can be partially attributed to the status o f women secondary school teachers. Labour historians have generally neglected teaching because it stands between the working and professional classes, 15  and many feminist scholars have neglected teaching to examine more groundbreaking occupations like law and medicine.  Work i n the field has replaced the male educator in  nineteenth-century bureaucratic structures o f state schools with women teachers. Some studies have focused on the 2 0 century organization o f women teachers. O f particular note th  are Sandra Gaskell's much-cited dissertation on Ontario elementary teachers and issues o f professionalism, and two extensive documentary histories o f the Federation o f W o m e n Teachers' Associations i n Ontario ( F W T A O ) by Doris French, and Patricia Staton and Beth Light.  These works, as with most recent research, are concerned with the elementary  school teacher. This reflected the prevailing segregation o f the workforce and the primary materials available for a unique organization like the F W T A O . The gap also owes something to the less accessible story o f the gendering o f education for secondary school women who did not fit the 'maternal image' as readily as their elementary counterparts. Despite comprising over one-third o f most urban school staffs in the mid-twentieth-century male-dominated secondary school, women have historically been treated as anomalies. There are a few exceptions that are particularly relevant for this thesis. Cecilia Reynolds and Sheila L . Cavanagh stand out for their numerous articles on women teachers 38  and issues o f hierarchies i n administration, and sexuality and school policy after the 1920s. In addition, Rebecca Priegert Coulter and Helen Harper have taken up the challenge o f a collection on women teachers i n the twentieth-century.  This compilation, History is Hers,  published in 2005, is particularly welcome for its extensive use o f oral histories, which also form the basis for much o f Reynolds' work. Interdisciplinary contributors to History is Hers have taken seriously post-modern theory, challenging a consensus model and seeking the particularities o f women teachers' l i v e s .  40  They cover a range o f issues, from rural and  northern Ontario teaching to both Francophone and immigrant women educators. Their 16  attention, however, conforms to the longstanding preference for primarily examining elementary teaching with the sole regional focus o f Ontario.  41  A s a result their ability to  illuminate national agendas is limited. Jean Barman in Sojourning Sisters is one o f the few historians to acknowledge that women's work as local teachers had a national effect on our ideals, culture and social structures, but her study is o f a much earlier period.  42  I begin i n the next chapter by providing an overview o f m y feminist theoretical reading o f women teachers' oral histories as a context for m y own work. I argue, through a selective historiography, that a fuller understanding o f narratives comes from the insights o f feminist post-structuralism and materialism that treats oral histories neither as anecdotal nor pure sources. Rather, I argue that these theoretical approaches to women's stories enable historians to understand linguistic and structural parameters o f stories, and recognize the political agency o f women's experiences, while not identifying an essentialist ' W o m a n . ' This point is illustrated through an integrative reading o f some o f the most concentrated studies on women teachers' oral histories. Before applying this analysis to m y own collection o f interviews, in the second chapter I interrogate school officials' conceptualization of'democratic' discourses and policies, which the women had to negotiate. I demonstrate that educators, across the political spectrum and i n different regions o f the country rallied behind a nationalist post-war platform o f 'democracy.' I examine three o f the most expansive areas o f 'democratic' reform: curriculum, character education, and administration. I illustrate, with specific attention to class, race, religion and region, that reforms in these areas were based on the reaffirmation o f a conservative ideal o f citizenship. Subsequent chapters then provide a primarily gendered examination o f how each major 'democratic' trend i n education shaped a limiting role for women teachers within the secondary school.  17  I argue in chapter three that, like the mass sorting of students in the 'accessible' school, women teachers were sorted by school administrators and even their federation representatives as less professional than their male counterparts. Marked by sociability and irrationality, their 'womanliness' meant that women could neither embody nor teach the necessary rigorous and objective knowledge that was meant to characterize the post-war 'democratic' curriculum. Unable to be men, women were accused of a lack of commitment to teaching, and thus hindering professionalism. While marginalized, women were simultaneously praised for their potential to reproduce 'democratic' morality. Chapter four examines the women teachers' role as performers of traditional citizenship values - a primary objective for the school's increased social services and 'character' education. As the cultivators of the norm, they found themselves under continuous surveillance. Those interviewed spoke of struggling to appear the 'respectable' woman and teacher, while, at times, acting out alternative messages of proper femininity. The final chapter explores women's integration as 'equalparticipants' in the decentralized educational administration of post-war schooling. They were given greater responsibilities in the 'democratic' re-organization of schooling but without the commensurate level of authority or remuneration. As mothers of the school, women were meant to be apolitical service providers, with the authority of the public school remaining in the hands of male heads of department, principals, and inspectors. Women responded by exerting control where they could, namely classrooms and more specifically the pace, method and lessons of instruction. Ultimately, I suggest that women were quasi-citizens in the public school, yet leaders in the delivery of democratic hope for the age. Their  18  experiences question the gender-blind inclusiveness o f educational 'democracy' for postCanada.  19  The definitions of democracy in education are vast. For recent definitions see the work of Ken Osborne and Joel Westheimer. Ken Osborne, Teaching for Democratic Citizenship (Toronto: Our Schools/Ourselves, 1991); Ken Osborne, "Teaching for Democratic Citizenship," in Sociology of Education in Canada, ed. L . Erwin and D . MacLennan (Toronto: Copp Clark Longman, 1994); Joel Westheimer, "Democratic Dogma: There is No One-Size-Fits - A l l Approach to Schooling for Democracy," Our Schools/Ourselves 15, no.l (2005): 25-30. 1  Madeleine Arnot and Jo-Anne Dillabough, "Introduction" in Challenging Democracy: International Perspectives on Gender, Education and Citizenship, ed. M . Arnot and J. Dillabough (New York: Routledge, 2000). Arnot and Dillabough aptly describe the harmful effects for various groups of the "nameless, faceless entity" that is liberal democratic citizenship. See, also, Derek Heater, A History of Education for Citizenship (New York: Routledge, 2004). 2  Madeleine Arnot and Jo-Anne Dillabough, "Feminist political frameworks: New approaches to the study of gender, citizenship and education," in Challenging Democracy: International Perspectives on Gender, Education and Citizenship, ed. M . Arnot and J. Dillabough (New York: Routledge, 2000); See also, Madeleine Arnot and Jo-Anne Dillabough, "Feminist Politics and Democratic Values in Education," Curriculum Inquiry 29, no.2 (1999): 159-189. Arnot and Dillabough provide a uniquely thorough assessment of the critical texts in this field. Their examination of the field has been particularly beneficial for my understanding of the relationship among gender, education and democracy. 3  Carole Pateman, The Sexual Contract (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1988); Carole Pateman, The disorder of women: democracy, feminism, and political theory (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1989). 4  Anne Phillips, Engendering Democracy (Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1991).  5  Robert Adamoski, Dorothy E. Chunn and Robert Menzies (eds.), Contesting Canadian Citizenship: Historical Readings (Peterborough: Broadview Press, 2002), 20. 6  7  Arnot and Dillabough, "Introduction," Challenging Democracy, 4.  Nira Yuval-Davis, Gender and Nation (London: Sage Press, 1997); See also, Nira Yuval-Davis and Penina Werbner (editors), Women, citizenship and difference (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1999); Anne Phillips, Democracy and Difference (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1993); Iris Marion Young, Inclusion and Democracy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000). 8  Nira Yuval-Davis, "Women, citizenship and difference," Feminist Review 57 (1997): 4-5, as quoted by Arnot and Dillabough, "Feminist Politics and Democratic Values in Education," 164. 9  10  Arnot and Dillabough, "Introduction," Challenging Democracy, 5.  "Ibid. Carmen Luke and Jennifer Gore (editors), Feminisms and Critical Pedagogy (New York: Routledge, 1992); Carmen Luke (editor), Feminisms and Pedagogies and everyday Life (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996); Elizabeth Ellsworth, Teaching positions: Difference, pedagogy, and the power of address (New York: Teachers College Press, 1997); Bronwyn Davies, 12  20  Frogs and snails andfeminist tales (Sydney: A l l e n and U n w i n , 1989); Patti Lather, Getting Smart (New Y o r k : Routledge, 1992); Jane K e n w a y , Sue W i l l i s and J i l l Blackmore, Answering Back: girls, boys and feminism in schools (New Y o r k : Routledge, 1998); Rebecca Priegert Coulter, " D o i n g Gender i n Canadian Schools: A n Overview o f the Policy and Practice Melange," i n Gender Issues in International Education, ed. S. Erkskine and M . W i l s o n (New Y o r k : Garland Press, 1999). Valerie Walkerdine and H e l e n Lucey, Democracy in the Kitchen: Regulating Mothers and Socialising Daughters (London: Virago, 1989); See, also, Valerie Walkerdine, Schoolgirl Fictions (London: Verso, 1990). 1 3  Jo-Anne Dillabough, " W o m e n i n Teacher Education: Their struggles for inclusion as 'citizenworkers' i n late modernity," i n Challenging Democracy: International Perspectives on Gender, Education and Citizenship, ed. M . Arnot and J. Dillabough (New Y o r k : Routledge, 2000); See also, Jo-Anne Dillabough, "Gender Politics and Conceptions o f the M o d e r n Teacher: women, identity and professionalism," British Journal of Sociology of Education 20, no.3 (September 1999): 374-394. 1 4  Z . S . Phimister, "The Principal and the School," The School November (1947), 103, quoted by Robert M . Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 1876-1976 (Toronto: University o f Toronto Press, 1982), 183. 1 5  See appendices and discussion to follow i n this chapter for detailed information on the sample and interview process for the women's oral histories. 1 6  M i c h e l Foucault, Discipline and Punish: the birth of the prison (New Y o r k : Pantheon Books, 1977); See a similar application o f Foucault for issues o f post-war governance i n M o n a Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal: Psychology, Schooling, and The Family in Postwar Canada (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1999), 8. 1 7  Antonio Gramsci, Selections from the Prison Notebooks (New Y o r k : International Publishers, 1971) as cited b y Andrew Ross, No Respect: Intellectuals and Popular Culture (New Y o r k : Routledge, 1988), 55. See also, Antonio Gramsci, Selections from Cultural Writings (London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1979); Esteve Morera, "Gramsci and Democracy," Canadian Journal of Political Science 23 (1990): 5-37. 1 8  1 9  Gramsci, Selections from the Prison Notebooks, as cited b y Ross, No Respect, 55.  2 0  Ross, No Respect, 55.  Shirley Tillotson, The Public at Play: Gender and Politics of Recreation in Post-War Ontario (Toronto: University o f Toronto Press, 2000); Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal. See also, D o u g Owram, Born At the Right Time: A History of the Baby-Boom Generation (Toronto: University o f Toronto, 1996); M a r y Louise Adams, The Trouble With Normal: Post-war Youth and the Construction of Heterosexuality (Toronto: University o f Toronto Press, 1994). A strategy o f containment within the post-war period o f the United States is discussed by Elaine T y l e r M a y , Homeward Bound: American Families in the Cold War Era (New Y o r k : B a s i c Books, 1988). Traumatic changes included the return o f military men to the workforce and often strained familial relations; women being expected to leave their positions i n the workforce following the war, but continuing to work due to the flourishing economy; an unprecedented baby boom; a shift i n the marketplace from a producer-based economy to a consumer-focus; waves o f immigration; the threat 2 1  21  of the atomic bomb palpable; and. a global intelligence race, typified by the launch of the Russian satellite Sputnik. 2 2  Tillotson, The Public at Play, 4-6.  Alison Prentice et al., Canadian Women: A History (Toronto: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1988), 351; Ann Porter, "Women and Income Security in the Post-War Period: The Case of Unemployment Insurance, 1945-1962," Labour/Le Trvail 31 (1993): 111-144; Susan Prentice, "Workers, Mothers, Reds: Toronto's Postwar Daycare Fight," Studies in Political Economy 30 (1989): 115-144; Shirley Tillotson, "Human Rights Law as Prism: Women's Organizations, Unions and Ontario's Female Employees Fair Remuneration Act, 1951," Canadian Historical Review 72 (1991): 532-557. For broader societal trends that reflected the trangressive nature of hegemonic citizenship, see, for example: Franca Iacovetta, Such Hardworking People: Italian Immigrants in Postwar Toronto (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1992); Adams, 77ie Trouble with Normal; Veronica Strong-Boag, "Home Dreams: Women and the Suburban Experiment in Canada, 1945-1960," Canadian Historical Review 74, no.4 (1991): 471-504; Veronica Strong-Boag, "Canada's Wage Earning Wives and the Construction of the Middle-Class, 1945-1960," Journal of Canadian Studies 29, no.3 (Fall 1994): 5-25. Franca Iacovetta's work, based on the lives of post-war Italian working-class families, demonstrates that an increased political allowance of 'immigrants' into Canada and their fight for greater rights was matched by growing assimilationist, 'Canadianized' programs. In her research on post-war youth, Mary Louise Adams argues that educators and child 'experts' began to promote sex education. The purpose, however, was an aggressive endorsement of heterosexuality, or the proliferation of the 'normal' post-war family that could combat a perceived increase in deviancy. Veronica Strong-Boag has illustrated that women, confined to the sprawling suburbs of the period, an endorsement of the male breadwinner model, were in fact working, and for some finding fulfillment in that work, both inside and outside of the home. 2 3  2 4  Tillotson, The Public at Play, 8-9.  2 5  Ibid., 9.  F. Henry Johnson, A Brief History of Canadian Education (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1968); Stamp, The Schools of Ontario; Neil Sutherland, "The Triumph of Formalism," in Children, Teachers and Schools, ed. J. Barman, N . Sutherland, and J.D. Wilson (Calgary: Detselig, 1995). 2 6  Robert D. Gidney, From Hope to Harris: The Reshaping of Ontario's Schools (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1999), 30. See also, a number of articles in J.Donald Wilson and David C. Jones (editors), Schooling and Society in 20 Century British Columbia (Calgary: Detselig, 1980). In this collection, scholars noted that there existed two strains of Progressivism or 'New Education,' during the early part of the twentieth-century in the West, with one group welfare and reformminded, with Dewey representative, and the other group business and management-oriented, with Thorndike representative. Few historians have followed-up on this issue, which is an important line of inquiry. Recent exceptions include: Kathleen Weiler, "No women wanted on the social frontier: gender, citizenship and progressive education," in Challenging Democracy: International Perspectives on Gender, Education, and Citizenship, ed. M . Arnot and J. Dillabough (New York: Routledge, 2000); Rebecca Priegert Coulter, "Getting Things Done: Donalda J. Dickie and Leadership Through Practice," Canadian Journal of Education 28, no. 3 (2005): 669-699. This thesis intends to deepen and complicate this discussion, as I argue that such categories seemed to collapse for the average educator in the post-WWII period. Furthermore, I argue that those who 2 7  fh  22  proclaimed allegiance to progressivism embraced a reform agenda that was similarly conservative as that claimed by traditionalists. 2 8  Dillabough, "Women in Teacher Education," 180-181.  See appendices for a biographical overview of each interviewee, the project summary, consent form and interview guid. This information reveals the interviewees' knowledge of the research prior to participating, the terms of their agreement to participate, and some of the general questions they were asked. 2 9  Patricia Anne Staton and Beth Light, Speak with their own voices: a documentary history of the teachers of Ontario and the women elementary public school teachers in Ontario (Toronto: F W T A O ,  3 0  1987), 130. They argue that the demographics of women teachers remained fairly consistent over a long period: most were white, Anglo-Saxon, protestant, and from lower to middle class families. The main change during this period was the increase in the number of married women teaching, as cited by Cecilia Reynolds, "Hegemony and Hierarchy: Becoming a Teacher in Toronto, 1930 - 1980," Historical Studies in Education 2, no.l (1990): 111-117. Reynolds' statistics show that in 1961 72% of women teachers were British, followed by a small percentage with French and German backgrounds. Charles E . Phillips, The Development of Public Education in Canada (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1957); Johnson, A Brief History of Canadian Education. For the historiography of the early development of Canadian education, see, for example, J. Donald Wilson, "Some Observations on Recent Trends in Canadian Educational History," in An Imperfect Past: Education and Society in Canadian Education, ed. J.D. Wilson (Vancouver: C H E A and the Centre for the Study of Curriculum and Instruction, University of British Columbia, 1984). 3 1  See, for example, Michael B. Katz, 77;e People ofHamilton, Canada West: Family and Class in a Mid-Nineteenth Century City (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1975. This work explores the 3 2  relationship between work place and schooling. Katz is generally credited with influencing a radical revision of Canadian educational history that heretofore neglected class issues; Robert D. Gidney and Doug A . Lawr, "Who Ran the Schools? Local vs. Central Control of Policy-Making in NineteenthCentury Ontario," Ontario History 67 (1980): 131-143; Robert D. Gidney and Doug A. Lawr, "Community vs. Bureaucracy? The Origins of Bureaucratic Procedure in the Upper Canadian School System," in Historical Essays on Upper Canada: New Perspectives, ed. J.K. Johnson and B . G . Wilson (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1989). Gidney and Lawr illustrate the ways local people resisted school bureaucracies in late nineteenth-century Ontario; Chad Gaffield, Language, Schooling and Cultural Conflict (Montreal-Kingston: McGill- Queen's University Press, 1988). Gaffield argues that French language schools in nineteenth-century Ontario contributed to the preservation of French culture and not its assimilation to the dominant English culture; Neil Sutherland, Children in English Canadian Society: Framing the Twentieth Century Consensus (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976). Sutherland's work was groundbreaking in the field of childhood studies. Two collections soon followed that addressed the 'new' social history and its focus on family and children, Joy Parr (editor), Childhood and Family in Canadian History (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1982); Patricia T. Rooke and R.L. Schnell (editors), Studies in Childhood History: A  Canadian Perspective (Calgary: Detselig, 1982). Patrick J. Harrigan, "A Comparative Perspective on Recent Trends in the History of Education in Canada, History ofEducation Quarterly 26, no.l (1986): 79-80. 3 3  23  Alison Prentice, "The Feminization of Teaching in British North America and Canda: 1845-1875," Histoire sociale/Social History 8 (1975): 5-20; Marta Danylewycz, Beth Light and Alison Prentice, "The Evolution of the Sexual Division of Labour in Teaching: A Nineteenth-Century Ontario and Quebec Case Study," Histoire sociale/ Social History 16, no. 31 (1983): 81-109; Marta Danylewycz and Alison Prentice, "Teachers, Gender and Bureaucratizing School Systems in Nineteenth-Century Montreal and Toronto," History of Education Quarterly 24, no.l (1984): 75-100. Alison Prentice and Marjorie R. Theobald, "The Historiography of Women Teachers: A Retrospect," in Women Who Taught: Perspectives on the History of Women and Teaching, edited by A . Prentice and M . Theobald (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1991). 3 5  Kate Rousmaniere, City Teachers: Teaching and School Reform in Historical Perspective (New York: Teachers College Press, 1997). 3 6  Doris French, High Button Bootstraps: Federation of Women's Teacher's Associations of Ontario, 1918-1968, (Toronto: The Ryerson Press, 1968); Staton and Light, Speak with their own voices; Sandra Gaskell, The Problems and Professionalism of Women Elementary Public School Teachers in Ontario, 1944-1954 (Ed.D. Dissertation: Faculty of Education, University of Toronto, 1989). For an associational history of Catholic women teachers in Quebec, see, Nadia Fahmy-Eid and Micheline Dumont (editors), Mattresses de maison, maitresses d'ecole. Femmes, Families et Education dans l'histoire du Quebec (Montreal, Boreal, 1983). 3 7  Reynolds, "Hegemony and Hierarchy"; Cecilia Reynolds, "In the Right Place at the Right Time: Rules of Control and Woman's Place in Ontario Schools, 1940-1980," Canadian Journal of Education 20, no.2 (1995): 129-145; Cecilia Reynolds arid Harry Smaller, "Ontario School Teachers: A Gendered View of the 1930s," Historical Studies in Education 6 (1994): 151-169; Sheila L . Cavanagh, "The Heterosexualization of the Ontario Woman Teacher in Post-war Period," Canadian Woman Studies 18, no.l (1998): 65-69; Sheila L . Cavanagh, "The Gender of Professionalism and Occupational Closure: the management of tenure-related disputes by the 'Federation of Women Teachers' Associations of Ontario' 1918-1949," Gender and Education 15, no.l (2003): 39-57; Sheila L . Cavanagh, "Female-Teacher Gender and Sexuality in Twentieth-Century Ontario, Canada," History of Education Quarterly 45, no.2 (2005): 247-273. See also, Susan Gelman, "The 'Feminization' of the High School: Women Secondary Teachers in Toronto, 1871-1930," Historical Studies in Education 2 (1990): 119-148; Judith Arbus, "Grateful to be Working: Women Teachers During the Great Depression," in Feminism and Education: A Canadian Perspective, ed. F. Forman, M . O'Brien, J. Haddad, D . Hallman, and P. Masters (Toronto: Centre for Women's Studies, OISE, 1990). 3 8  Rebecca Priegert Coulter and Helen Harper (editors), History is Hers: Women Educators in Twentieth Century Ontario (Calgary: Detselig, 2005).  3 9  Ibid., 16. The expansive number of interviews, seven contributors, and six decade time span, make it difficult to sum up methodological approach and theoretical understanding of women teachers' oral history for this collection. This is the primary reason why I do not treat this recent text in the following chapter's theoretical analysis of the field. I do, however, draw upon several articles within the collection, particularly the work of Sheila L . Cavanagh, for this thesis. 4 0  4 1  Ibid., 21.  24  Jean Barman, Sojourning Sisters: The Lives and Letters ofJessie and Annie McQueen (Toronto:  University of Toronto Press, 2003).  25  Chapter 1 Productive Tensions: Feminist Readings o f Women Teachers' Oral Histories'  According to Sandra Harding, the best feminist work ensures that research is grounded in women's experiences, considers the power relations between researchers and researched, and works towards the elimination o f patriarchal oppression.  44  While these commonalities  are pronounced in most feminist studies, feminist researchers begin from diverse and contested epistemological positions.  45  In recent years, contests over the differences between  poststructuralism and materialism have sometimes appeared to take precedence i n the quest for 'the best feminist work.' W h i l e each approach in itself is vast and encompasses an array o f positions, which is beyond the scope o f this exploration, each theory is marked by dominant themes and points for analysis. Poststructuralist feminists demarcate their work by asserting, as Barbara Johnson notes, that gender is a question o f language that can only be subjectively deconstructed within local contexts.  46  In contrast, materialist feminists, such as  Jennifer Wicke, insist that an examination o f material conditions, both domestic and industrial, is the basis for revealing the general and definable principles that produce gender hierarchy.  47  Judith Butler has warned against the propensity for contemporary feminists to  exaggerate 'difference' o f approaches in their work. She writes: "...the question o f whether or not a position is.right.. .is in this case, less informative than why we come to occupy and defend the territory we do, what it promises us."  48  In light o f this statement, it is all the more  important to question: does a feminist reading o f women teachers' oral histories benefit from a purely poststructuralist or materialist analysis or rather from an integrated framework? A n increasing number o f feminist theorists are reconciling modernist questions o f structural equality with poststructuralist concerns for discourse and difference: acknowledging that  26  feminists share the goals o f investigating and de-normalizing power. The work o f feminist political and social theorists, notably N a n c y Fraser and Linda Nicholson, directly counter the fragmentation o f these earlier approaches by acknowledging women's political agency within hierarchies o f identification.  49  A feminist reading o f women teachers' oral histories, which integrates the strengths o f poststructuralist and materialist feminism, provides productive tensions for historians seeking to explore the complex relations o f power that create narrative meaning making. When examining women's oral histories, Joan Sangster argues that historians should be concerned about the dangers o f poststructuralism's propensity for "form over context, o f stressing deconstruction o f individual narratives over analysis o f social patterns, o f disclaiming our duty as historians to analyze and interpret women's stories."  50  Equally  dangerous is over-reliance on materialism with the possibility o f imposing grand narratives that match political agendas and define power as purely 'objective,' economic or unified. In contrast, a feminist poststructuralist and materialist reading o f women teachers' oral histories challenges generalizing theoretical traditions, and, more importantly, the need for a feminist critique that is 'right' according to extreme theoretical categories.  51  In its place, an  integrated analysis provides a feminist critique o f oral history that encourages historians to, as Marjorie Theobald describes, work within layers o f memory, rather than beyond them. There, we can discover a point at which women's narratives can expose and destabilize essentialist tropes or myths encouraged by male dominance.  52  A s Luisa Passerini argues, oral histories are revelations o f truths, but "it is up to the interpreter to discover in which sense, where, for what purpose."  53  This chapter considers  how historians have interpreted women teachers' oral histories. The selected studies for analysis are from the United States, N e w Zealand and Australia. Unlike the case for Canada,  27  scholars in these countries have undertaken major studies o f women who taught i n the twentieth-century and tapped into their first-hand accounts o f educational processes in such areas as labour conflicts, teacher training, and state educational p o l i c i e s .  54  Some Canadian  scholars have begun to embark on such studies. Few, as previously discussed, have turned to oral history as a central resource or published a series o f articles or a manuscript o f their studies. The works selected for this chapter, i n addition to being some o f the bestrecognized studies i n the field, provide oral histories from concentrated interview pools that deal with a fairly specific time period arid are examined in-depth by the historians who authored the work. These selected texts are not intended to represent a comprehensive historiography o f empirical studies, but do illustrate various historical approaches and understandings o f the value o f women teachers' narratives. This chapter provides an analysis o f conceptual issues raised by feminist researchers and faced by oral historians, such as myself, i n exploring women's oral histories. Few scholars here explicitly address their theoretical leanings, an area that should be confronted i f more sophisticated appraisals are to occur. Nevertheless, the authors below deal implicitly with theoretical concepts that feminist poststructuralists and materialists debate regarding the representation o f women's experiences. I do not, therefore, attribute the identity o f any theoretical tradition to the historians or their work i n women teachers' oral histories that are under examination. Rather, the focus is on using feminist poststructuralist and materialist theories, at times in retrospect from when the histories were produced, for an understanding o f the most comprehensive readings for written oral histories o f women teachers. In particular, this chapter addresses three key concepts for historians' representations o f women teachers' narratives: knowledge, discourse and identity.  55  28  W h i l e these terms are certainly interrelated, this chapter treats each separately. The first section addresses knowledge, or the assertions o f 'truth' historians make through women's memories o f teaching. M a n y postmodernist feminists assert that oral historians can reveal multiple and fluctuating truths by paying close attention to the organizing principles underlying narratives. Materialist feminists have questioned the political efficacy o f unending truths offered by postmodernism and encourage oral historians to lay bare the locations o f power that produce evidence from oral histories. The second concept is discourse, which in this case refers to teachers' use o f language to explain their self-identity within society. W h i l e the power o f language to structure women's realities has been the foundation o f feminist poststructuralism, materialist feminists emphasize the structural parameters o f discourses. The third section addresses the identity construction o f women teachers. Some poststructuralist feminists support the interrogation o f women teachers' individual narratives, as they reject the imposition o f ' W o m a n . ' In contrast, some materialist feminists seek to understand the subjectivities o f ' w o m e n ' as a group, defined according to social patterns o f patriarchy, particularly informed by class relations. Rather than stifling, the tensions between these feminist frameworks for oral historians might be productive. The potential o f women teachers' oral history can be found between these theoretical traditions, where multiple truths are located within the power dynamics o f their construction, language as experience is understood in relation to material life, and the question o f the self is continuously negotiated within social structures.  29  R E M E M B E R I N G EXPERIENCES A N D HISTORICAL K N O W L E D G E  Poststructuralist feminists seek to destabilize male dominance, in part, by reading women's oral histories as knowledge production, a process through which women make sense or meaning of their lives.  56  Narratives are treated as linguistic constructions and historical texts  which, open to multiple interpretations, can provide evidence of how women conceptualize their past experiences or relationships to the social world. Jacques Derrida argues that life as text accentuates the notion that there is no clear window into the inner life of a person, because the view is always filtered through the glaze of language, and processes of signification.  Experience as interpreted through oral history is thus a fluctuating 'truth'  that exists within the layers of life as it happens, life as it is told by the subject, and life as narrative interpreted by the historian.  The role of the oral historian is not to provide the  facts of women teachers' pasts, even i f this were possible; rather it is to analyze the way historic knowledge is created through the production of discourse as informed by experiences and subject locations. Poststructuralist feminists argue that oral history as evidence, set within a text, can lead to the re-conceptualization of the study of women's work in education or, for that matter, in some other field. Richard Quantz's study of the failure of women teachers' unionization in Hamilton, Ohio, during the 1930s provides an illustration. He rejects traditional historical claims that rely purely on structural or material explanations with respect to professional associations, namely, the failure of unionization as a result of weak ties to the organized, largely male, labour movement and harsh economic times.  59  Quantz  argues that while larger forces shape the story, the event in question can only be fully understood through an analytic foundation that includes women who lived through it and  30  their discursively constructed subjectivities. Contrary to structurally based studies, he demonstrates that failure to unionize was not because women teachers were unknowing dupes o f the educational elite. Instead, Quantz illustrates that women organized their realities around key cultural metaphors, such as viewing the school as family and a legitimate female institution, which provided them with a perception o f power that appeared to make external professional associations irrelevant.  60  Quantz's study ends by noting that  he has provided temporal conclusions from patterns within the women's narratives o f that time and place. Historian Kate Rousmaniere frames her narrative o f teachers' diverse meanings o f and relationships to work i n similar terms. In her City Teachers: Teaching and School Reform in Historical Perspective, Rousmaniere argues that historical scholarship has remained relatively silent about the diversity o f women teachers' work, as accounts regarding the messiness o f life inside schools are missing. She argues that traditionally historians have misread conditions o f women teachers' work, narrowly defining it as factorylike labour constrained by material structures, namely prescriptive policy and curricula. She implies, i n part, that this is due to materialist feminists not listening to the language and the recurring echoes o f meaning found in teachers' narratives. Through an ethnographic examination o f teachers' experiences o f work in N e w Y o r k schools, she refutes arguments that schools became rationalized, orderly, and financially efficient institutions during the 1920s' 'Progressive E r a . '  61  A s she looks "...sideways into the picture order  to identify teachers' motivations, feelings, and reactions," Rousmaniere illustrates that women teachers interpreted administrators' concept of'progress' as involving different meanings o f order, including more intense labour and divisions among teachers.  62  In  addition, 'progress' meant a negotiated work culture by which women teachers sporadically  31  both accommodated and resisted their conditions. Rousmaniere's narrative is, at times, an unrelenting form o f historical advocacy for teachers. She provides, however, an illuminating concluding point: for reform to be effective in schools, whether in 1920s N e w Y o r k or elsewhere, teachers' concerns must be heard amongst the voices o f educational reformers 63 and policy texts.  For Rousmaniere, like Quantz, it is the historian's job to explore  knowledge as a linguistic representation o f life which, when studied, provides clues, patterns, and themes that speak to how women teachers, i n relation to a multitude o f conflicting 'truths' and 'voices,' understood and acted upon their surroundings. This poststructuralist conceptual stance rejects an empiricist view o f the past as objectively fixable through the scientific pursuit o f facts and a singular, universal truth.  64  It  thereby undermines traditionally male-based scientific claims to authority over knowledge, including biological determinism o f gender disparities. A t the same time, this framework rejects the attempts o f feminist empiricists to re-inscribe objectivist notions o f 'woman' through the elimination o f male bias i n the sciences.  65  A l l knowledge, including that o f the  women participating in research, is subject to deconstruction and scepticism. In contrast, materialist feminist researchers have argued that poststructuralist suspicion o f all truth claims are disingenuous and politically untenable for a feminist agenda that seeks to foster research from and for women. Roberta Spalter-Roth and Heidi Hartmann are critical o f any feminist epistemological position that does not claim scientific credibility and generalizability. Without such evidence, they argue, feminists would be discredited in policy debates and unable to actualize feminist goals for political reform.  66  Donna Haraway  makes a similar argument i n claiming that feminist poststructuralists fall into a dangerous territory o f relativism, which is the "perfect mirror twin o f totalization i n the ideologies o f objectivity; both deny the stakes o f location, embodiment, and partial perspective; both make 32  it impossible to see w e l l . "  In her research, Haraway reclaims the notion o f objectivity  which she defines as feminists' articulation o f subjugated knowledges.  She asserts that  68  partial perspectives, as a way o f seeing, enable accessible communication among feminist researchers for change in the 'real' world o f w o m e n .  69  Considering materialist feminists' calls for a strong political feminist agenda, the seduction for many oral historians has been to write a descriptive, coherent story that privileges the seemingly transparent knowledge o f w o m e n .  70  Such narratives are founded on  the belief, articulated by Paul Thompson, that "...transforming the 'objects' o f study into 'subjects', makes for a history which is not just richer, more vivid and heartrending, but truer."  71  A l i c e Duffy Rinehart's 1983 study Mortals in the Immortal Profession: An Oral  History of Teaching works from such a standpoint. Her book is very much the product o f the time i n which is was written, when post-modern questions were not at the forefront o f history. Rinehart produces an extensive compilation o f thirty-eight interviews with women who had worked in various American schools throughout their lifetime.  72  She covers  important issues such as reasons for entering teaching, family background and major political events affecting education.  73  Rinehart presents oral histories as reminiscences or  anecdotal personal insights, in other words as self-evident depictions o f reality, instead o f scrutinizing them within a theoretical context. Her failure to analyze the 'historical knowledge' in teachers' narratives misses the complex relations o f power, both privilege and subordination, which underlie the dynamics o f meaning making. Valorizing women teachers in an effort to let them tell their story is realized at the dangerous cost o f depicting their narratives as another form o f constrained consciousness similar to conservative rhetoric o f teachers' apolitical subjectivities. Essentially, Rinehart fails to treat memory as an unstable basis for women teachers' knowledge, a basis on which the historian must examine the  33  contradictions and silences for the structuring paradigms and processes that shape their individual and collective pasts.  74  Only through a respectful scepticism about narratives w i l l  women teachers and historians be able to find patterns in their voices to collectively deconstruct the power relations that shape the educational system. If careful not to privilege a singular feminine 'voice,' the oral historian can foreground Haraway's demands for the exposure and location o f power relations in the relationship between researchers and researched. A s such, materialist feminists' concern to provide a platform for political activism based on interrogation o f power relations can be realized with poststructuralist sensitivities. In fact, M i c h e l Foucault, an unwitting father o f poststructuralism, argued against linear histories that did not analyze the power to name on the part o f the researcher.  75  A s Leslie B l o o m argues, the feminist researcher provides the  most illuminating illustration o f meaning making i n history: here there exists a genuine respect for a subject's right to define her own history, but simultaneously an acknowledgment o f the researcher's explicit role i n the history constructed.  76  Diane W o l f  similarly asserts that feminist fieldwork across theoretical traditions has to deal with the inherent power inequalities between the researcher and the researched, including questions o f authorship, ownership o f data, and use o f evidence (sampling methods, relationship with subject, and confidentiality). This demands fostering a relationship o f trust i n the research 77  process based on the researcher's continual reflexivity.  78  That being said, historical  knowledge produced through oral histories is, ultimately, a reported discourse created i n particular contexts and analyzed within scholars' own location and seemingly 'objective' research frameworks. Kathleen Weiler makes this point i n her 1998 study o f interviews with twenty-five women teachers who lived and worked in rural California between 1850 and 1950.  34  79  Weiler  critically reads women teachers' narratives as discursive texts produced in specific historical contexts. The historian, as her work illustrates, selects and highlights certain themes in accordance with teachers' class, gender, and racial locations. She notes that the oral history o f an African American woman, obtained i n an interview conducted i n the 1970s by a black scholar, produced a narrative centred on the freedom struggles o f black people to gain access to educational institutions. This narrative is contrasted with one conducted by a white, male scholar and produced in the conservatism o f the early 1950s in which the conventional characteristics o f teacher sacrifice and community building became the focus.  80  With  respect to her own interviews, Weiler cites incidences i n which women, unaware o f her liberal feminist perspective, intentionally edited their stories to present images o f acceptable authority figures and happy endings which they believed corresponded to the expectations Weiler might have because o f her conservative family background.  81  These examples  demonstrate that awareness and discussion o f the context o f interviews, o f the goals o f the historian, and o f the interaction between the subjectivities o f researcher and researched are mandatory i n the exploration o f the 'historical knowledges' o f women teachers' narratives. They illustrate how it is important for historians to be critical not only o f themselves but also o f subjects' efforts to construct a convincing historical narrative from the stories. While these issues are not new for oral historians, Weiler's work speaks to an emerging awareness among scholars o f the emancipatory potential o f women's stories, as opposed to white, male 'experts,' when the production aspects o f the oral history are clear. W h i l e the contextual production o f oral histories can address concerns for location, materialist feminists argue that historians also must be wary o f obscuring the voices o f their subjects. A poststructuralist approach that implies all narratives represent equally valid knowledge could result i n the textual dominance o f the researcher's experiences. This  35  danger is particularly evident in Kathleen Casey's work entitled I Answer With My Life: Life Histories of Women Teachers Working for Social Change. Casey undertakes a study o f the life and work o f thirty-three women who, obtained through snowball sampling, came from three general subject positions: religious Catholic women, secular Jewish women, and black 89  women teachers.  Her study o f these women's stories is framed by Casey's own awareness  that knowledge is not produced 'out there,' but, rather, in relationship between the subjectivities o f herself and those she interviewed. In an effort to illuminate this dialogue, Casey at times dominates with a lengthy description o f her family background, political stance, and perspectives on education.  83  This occurs i n conjunction with attempts to create  an open-ended format for her interviews that, she claims, allow the interests o f the narrators to be at the forefront o f the content and interpretation. That outcome is i n fact undermined by sampling, questions and categorizations which are powerful forces in directing narratives. W h i l e self-conscious o f her methodological and textual dominance, Casey is careful to note that women teachers' interests can usurp her agenda. Specifically, she began her research seeking to interview Communist women teachers. She often confronted secular Jewish women with this characterization, but was repeatedly told b y the women themselves that OA  they were not 'radical' or 'terrorist' Communists.  Casey recognized that, in the context o f  the 'Left' in the 1980s, when she conducted the interviews, her categories not only no longer corresponded with but were deeply threatening to the identities o f the subjects. In retrospect, Casey comments that her own biography o f conservative schooling and remoteness from Communist networks prevented the effective inclusion o f evidence. Historians should be cautioned against imposing their agenda on women's oral histories and their conceptions o f historical knowledge for there is not a clear window into women's past experiences that can be uncovered. A t the same time, women teachers' 36  various remembrances represent historical knowledge o f how they understood and attempted to interact with their positions in education systems o f a given time and place. The historian must lay bare his or her intention to interrogate women teachers' experiences from their own 'objective' lens, thereby making claims from oral histories that hold political truths and value.  T H E L O C A T I O N S OF W O M E N ' S DISCOURSES  Casey's work demonstrates how feminist analysis o f the evidence or knowledge women teachers create through oral history is directly related to debates between language and materialism as sources o f gender oppression. Michele Barrett notes that poststructuralism rejects the supremacy o f materialism over signs or discourses.  85  In particular,  poststructuralism challenges materialist feminism's focus on the cause o f women's oppression rooted i n economic relations.  86  W e should not interpret such a challenge,  however, to mean that discourse is not intimately related to material life. Materialist feminists react against work, associated with poststructuralism, which describes women's lives as floating above their contexts, rather than within them.  Signs should not simply  replace production as a root cause o f women's oppression. A n analysis o f discourse with respect to women's narratives must seek to examine the system o f "...controlling metaphors, notions, categories and norms which develop and delimit the subjects' conceptions and expressions o f personal, work and social relations."  Discourse is thus a  way o f perceiving women's experiences through multiple and competing forces within on  society.  A s theorist M i k h a i l Bakhtin argues, voices create structures through which the  reality o f a multitude o f concrete worlds might be perceived or discussed.  37  90  In addition to  perceiving how women construct themselves, such discussion enables the historian to better understand the ways that dominant discourses, as they relate to structural institutions, also construct women's narratives. The oral historian must not identify language as synonymous with life. W o m e n teachers' lives and language are active sites o f negotiation for the historian to explore subjectivities and material constraints that ground language choices according to factors such as gender, class, race, region, and workplace. It is up to the historian to provide an effective reading o f both discourses and the material world o f the texts. Historians must approach oral narratives with dual, simultaneous interpretations, namely, a reading for structure, or the experiences o f the material world and the workings o f it, and a reading for culture, or the ways memories o f events and experiences are organized through language.  91  The work o f Richard Quantz and Margaret Nelson is particularly attuned to how discourse and material realities shape their subjects' histories. They each focus on teachers' negotiations o f material factors as they are expressed through discursive strategies. Quantz argues that women teachers during the Depression era in Ohio dealt with careers that were characterized by both empowerment and confinement. Using the shared language and subjectivities he observed in the narratives, he describes how women used metaphors for teaching that publicly accommodated and personally resisted their situation. These metaphors include the subordinate-authority figure (teacher as both respected/feared b y students and respectful/fearful o f male administrators) and the school as family (mother/child relationship with students and a sister-like relationship with co-workers, but expected to be single with the father-like figure o f an administrator).  Quantz notes that the  complete picture o f these women's experiences is not to be found in these abstractions, as women teachers did not approach life metaphorically, but concretely. H e argues that  teachers' subjective redefinitions under the structural conditions o f that period made it possible for them to think o f themselves in oppositional ways rather than always accommodating dominant discourses. This study provides interesting examples o f how teachers' work experiences do not always conform to hegemonic discourses o f material conditions. For example, his interviewees strongly identified with a mother metaphor that afforded them a great amount o f authority within the community, while keeping them subordinate within the educational system.  93  Despite such dynamics, Quantz's concluding  remarks allude to the idea that these women contributed to their own powerlessness as teachers because they did not change their material realities, merely their subjective worlds. He acknowledges the discursive authority women had over their experiences and then subsequently dismisses any 'real' power. Quantz misreads the teachers' narratives, namely, that they are speaking to the negotiating o f a meaningful identity within the context o f patriarchal oppression. A s a result, he negates a dialectic relationship, expressed by the women i n their narratives, between 'formal' avenues o f power and a person's own 'informal' influence. Nelson, who deals with teachers' relationships to their working conditions in Vermont, reconfigures Quantz's conclusions regarding the relative impact o f discourse and structure.  94  Specifically, Nelson notes that the meaning or satisfaction derived from teaching  cannot be understood solely on materialist terms. Rather, she credits women's expressions o f power or oppression as having an impact on their positions and work environments.  95  Unlike Quantz, she concludes that women teachers' talk o f empowerment was as 'real' as their structural context when determining their experiences o f w o r k .  96  The importance o f this distinction is clear in the work o f Kathleen Casey. Casey, i n contrast to Quantz, focuses intimately on her subjects' discursive structures and does not  39  fully explore their material realities. Her work, which sets out to be an analysis o f women's experiences through the primacy o f language, is useful for historians to understand the narrative construction o f the teaching self. Casey's study, however, only brings the historian so far. Her study should be complemented b y a greater contextual analysis o f the women's narratives. It is this type o f linguistic analysis, associated with poststructuralism, which materialist feminists accuse o f presenting women's lives as floating above their contexts. Casey's work centres on reproducing dimensions o f women teachers' work for social change through the repetitive, yet distinctive concepts and metaphors they construct. She notes that she needed to identify with the particular, gender-bound, religious languages that were consistently being used by Catholic women teachers before she recognized their political theorizing.  For example, Casey argues that many women would not explicitly make  negative comments against administrators in their schools, yet they often described times o f school reform and disruption with the metaphor o f death and sacrifice. One woman recalled the death o f a fellow teacher when discussing a change i n administration.  98  The inability o f  some women to vocalize their experiences must be understood with respect to the constraints they endured as both women and nuns i n society. In addressing the potential for women's voices to be 'privatized,' Casey also includes body language within her discourse analysis. She recalls an interview i n which a woman was recounting her choice to become a nun, and traced a figure eight i n the air to represent a sense o f unity among her childhood, religious life, and teaching.  99  Casey's ability to read for cultural meaning or the construction o f  language enables her to illuminate women's experiences. She fails, however, to show how women negotiated their relationships with the dominant discourses o f institutions that shaped their voice, such as church, state, and school. The reader wants to know more, for  40  example, about the metaphor o f death as it related to educational discourse and work environments within this specific context. The opposite can be said for the work o f Sue Middleton and Helen M a y , which explores the strategies that teachers used to understand the dominant discourses and social movements that swept through N e w Zealand schools between 1915 and 1 9 9 5 .  100  Using  materials from administrators, philosophers, and a cross-section o f teachers, Middleton and M a y assert that they want to recapture how teaching affected and was affected by a diverse range o f issues (the purpose o f schooling, the streaming o f Maori children, and 'progressive' child-centered education).  101  Unfortunately, their study does not fulfil this goal, as they  confuse descriptions o f structural conditions with discourse analysis. What they construct is a descriptive historical account that focuses on the political irrespective o f the personal, with little analysis o f subjects' memories or languages. Although Middleton and M a y powerfully state ", let us listen as teachers talk teaching," they actually edit women's stories in compliance with competing dominant discourses o f education that existed during the period 102  in question.  This is particularly evident as the authors admit to cleaning up the raw data,  removing subjects' slang words and digressions, as well as indiscriminately incorporating their own narratives into their subjects' stories.  A s a result, Middleton and M a y , at times,  treat oral histories as anecdotal evidence. W i t h the removal o f the silences, and the inattentiveness to literary devices, such as metaphors that structure speech, the reader can miss how women teachers organized or determined their subjectivities located within rapidly changing public institutions. Middleton and M a y do not examine some o f the most fascinating questions: H o w did the mothers whom they describe as "reserve labour" i n the 1950s rationalize their careers? H o w did teachers feel about students who espoused racism during the tension filled decade o f the 1960s? 41  A s a whole, these works demonstrate that studies o f women teachers' narratives, which are founded on an analysis o f discourse or materialism, do not provide the fullest historical explanation o f women's teaching lives, since the meaning o f these concepts are defined in relation to one another. Women's narratives are embedded within the historical and contemporary context o f their lives. A s such, their oral histories reveal the societal imperatives by which they organized their narratives as effective teachers, as well as the ways women manipulated discourses to shape the structural parameters o f their working lives. Schools did not simply impose themselves upon the identities o f women teachers nor did women teachers have full control over the shape o f their teaching selves within the school environment.  T H E SOCIAL SELF OF T E A C H E R S ' IDENTITIES  Obviously the relationship between women's discursive positioning and identity formation are inextricably linked. A t the centre o f this relationship for feminist theories and historians is how to express women as subjects. Given the focus o f poststructuralist feminism on multiple subjectivities, the concern is that readings for the material effects could create a seemingly unified ' W o m a n ' s ' discourse. Feminist standpoint theorists, for example, seek generalizable and singular definitions o f ' W o m a n ' for political efficacy. Standpoint theorists, like Nancy Harstock, contend that women as an oppressed group, by virtue o f their material realities according to the sexual division o f labour, have a vision o f social relations distinct from m e n .  104  She argues that this vision, struggled for by women over time, must be  privileged for its unique commentary on patriarchy.  105  Dorothy Smith also acknowledges  the need for researchers to begin from women's distinct standpoint. Unlike Harstock, she  42  does not argue that women's standpoint refers to an authentic women's perspective.  106  Instead, Smith argues that standpoint is a research method for understanding the ruling apparatuses that women speak to as shaping their everyday worlds. She argues that researchers, particularly those persuaded by poststructuralism, must concentrate on historically placing and embodying female subjectivity in order to check the general validity of their accounts.  107  Smith and Harstock turn to a materialist Marxist framework as a means  for 'escaping' seemingly poststructuralist abstract categories o f meaning that ignore the "coordering o f actual activities," or the patterns o f women's experiences, and changes i n women's l i v e s .  108  Scholars have challenged this position, arguing that materialists' desire to locate the ' W o m a n ' s ' perspective implies that they can locate the 'authentic centre' o f the female identity through an examination o f the personal, inner l i f e .  109  Defined as such, the oppressed  individual, or in this case a woman, can be politically liberated by articulating their fixed identity. Postcolonial feminists provide beneficial insight into this matter. M a n y strongly argue that inferences o f fixed identity construction are inaccurate and continue to colonize the "Third W o r l d W o m a n ' or the 'Black W o m a n ' according to White Western images o f their powerlessness.  110  Chandra Mohanty argues that many feminist researchers' discursive  practices reproduce hegemonic public discourses o f non-Western women's identities and cultures as statically ' O t h e r . '  111  It is necessary to adopt, therefore, an analysis that acknowledges that women do not have a coherent self moving through history with a single identity. Instead, the self is a socially constructed, unstable identity constantly created and negotiated through both dominant, contradictory discourses and resistance to those conceptions. A l l female subjects, therefore, have agency or power for resistance, at least theoretically. The notions o f  43  separated private, powerful selves from social selves, as M i k h a i l Bakhtin notes, are myths. The self is defined in its encounter with the 'other,' thus the self-identity is a product o f 112  social forces.  A s such, a materialist or contextual analysis o f oral history, informed b y the  feminist poststructuralist negation o f the search for unity, is most helpful for the oral historian. This synthesized approach is illustrated i n the work o f Natasha Mauthner and Andrea Doucet. In examining issues o f child care and motherhood these researchers employ a relational ontology for the analysis o f women's interviews. They do not read for a positivist rational self, but, rather, for women as they define themselves i n relationship to the others and contexts, and as they were defined by the researcher's location within the interview.  113  The self as defined by the other should not mean that women can only control, know and define a fragment o f themselves. Women can articulate a coherent identity but it is for the historian to explain the formation o f that identity as an ideological struggle for agency within patriarchal and oppressive institutions and discourses. M i c h e l Foucault writes that " i n thinking o f the mechanisms o f power [researchers should] think o f its capillary form o f existence, the point where power reaches into the very grain o f individuals, touches their bodies and inserts itself into their actions, attitudes, their discourses, and everyday l i v e s . "  114  Identity formation needs to be deconstructed to understand the frameworks o f women's differentiated experiences. What it means to be a woman, how that is defined according to the subjects' material needs and available languages should be the main points o f exploration for the historian. Kathleen Weiler's study o f rural teachers provides one o f the most beneficial, integrative analyses. She illustrates that identity formation, as revealed through women teachers' narratives, is free and structured, personal and public, as well as internally and  44  externally shaped. These contradictions are particularly clear as Weiler explores w h y women chose to teach. Most respondents could not provide an answer, and only a few acknowledged their limited options or the few jobs that were considered 'women's w o r k . '  1 1 5  Despite the awareness o f structural constraints, almost all women presented themselves as autonomous individuals, making personal choices. Weiler notes that women's identities as teachers were constructed around American nationalist discourses based on the freedom o f individuals to make their own futures regardless o f limitations.  116  Contradictorily, therefore,  the subjects did not challenge the idea that teaching was women's work, and they did not describe themselves i n terms of'natural' avocation, such as sacrifice, and nurturing. These women constructed themselves i n opposition to stereotypical characteristics o f femininity, while also presenting narratives that reveal taken-for-granted assumptions about the restrictions women faced. Such contradictions, or what feminist historians term 'bad fits,' highlight the very point at which the subject actively negotiates her concept o f s e l f .  117  Language used to conceptualize the ' s e l f is not unitary. Instead, apparent coherence obscures meanings o f class and gender that define women teachers' identities. This is evident i n the narrative o f a white Protestant teacher who framed her identity as a teacher in traditional terms, asserting her respectability within the c o m m u n i t y .  118  Weiler notes how the  intersections o f class and gender work subversively within this narrative. The subject represents her ' s e l f as a powerful, Christian, pure woman, without reference to her financial struggles and lack o f upper class associates. This woman's choice o f representation is very significant for understanding her perceptions o f her status and roles in society. Kate Rousmaniere, like Weiler, reads women teachers' narratives for selfrepresentation, rather than literal content, in her effort to examine what it meant for her subjects to be teachers in 1920s' N e w Y o r k . Focusing on the collectivity o f her subjects'  45  narratives, Rousmaniere seeks to understand women teachers' occupational identities. She begins this study b y explaining the problems associated with categorizing teachers' identities. She argues that women teachers exist within a paradoxical position. Teaching is characterized as a profession, but exists under close supervision; it is a middle class career but has a high proportion o f marginalized groups."  9  A n analysis o f such incongruencies  reveals the thin line historians tread between exploring common themes among narratives and over-generalizing, thus imposing an essentialist identity on the woman teacher. Foremost, however, it is evident to the reader that locating the identity o f women teachers as a group means that the historian and the subject must negotiate the context o f women's work in relation to intersections o f class, gender, 'race,' sexuality, region, age and so on. For Rousmaniere, that means exploring the recurring themes o f narratives in order to provide herself with a tentative roadmap to the internal and external ordering o f teachers' subjectivities. She concludes from this map that women teachers created an identity for themselves as semi-independent workers.  120  A s a result, teachers maintained some  individual control and personal integrity for their job, but worked in isolation that discouraged effective change through unionization. Rousmaniere argues that this collective identity shaped both city teachers' work and their responses to that work. W h i l e Weiler and Rousmaniere argue that the formation o f identities for women teachers was defined primarily by accommodation, Kathleen Casey provides oppositional readings. Casey argues that the 'progressive' female subjects she interviewed consistently resisted or reinterpreted dominant and conservative constructions o f their identities as teachers. The subversion o f dominant meanings to represent the identities o f women teachers is particularly explicit i n the narratives o f black women teachers. These black women teachers use their narratives to disclose, disguise and remake their identities. In doing so  46  they are exposing racist stereotypes produced b y whites, undermining the construction o f race as biological category, and asserting their power to articulate their own identities.  122  For example, within black women's narratives, whites often appear as caricatures, the timeless slave narrative provides a framework, and the meaning o f derogatory words, such as mammy, are transformed into more powerful characters.  123  W h i l e less likely to directly state  the constraints o f school life, these narratives represent the diversity, agency, limitations, personal and public frameworks that shape women teachers' identities in specific national contexts. Women's oral histories are embedded narratives, to which historians need to be attuned. Feminist theorists, based on Habermas' work on communicative action, argue that women can only know 'themselves' once they have reflected upon their "own structural 'embeddedness' in formal and informal political and language structures."  124  Women  thereby negotiate and act upon difference " i n relation, and response, to meaningful social interactions with others."  125  Women's oral histories are at once, therefore, individual and  social stories.  These texts, as a field, reveal the productive tensions offered by feminist poststructuralist and materialist readings for women teachers' oral histories. Their findings require historians to elicit, and listen carefully for, the interrelated concepts o f historical knowledge, discourse and identity, as they are the central organizing principles for women teachers' oral narratives and the historians' representations o f those narratives. A n integrated reading reveals how school structures shaped women teachers' identities, while also demonstrating the ways women invoked cultural discourses, such as the school as family, to assert their authority. B y openly acknowledging the complex production o f oral  47  history, historians can understand that their research priorities, such as teacher resistance or structure o f the one-room schoolhouse, must co-exist with women teachers' priorities, such as their daily workload. A n integrated analysis also highlights that the diverse definitions o f work are dependent on the discourses available for women's social status. The historian can understand how white women teachers focus on education as community building, while black women teachers focus on education as a freedom struggle. A n integrated analysis further reveals how an individual woman teacher's lack of'official' autonomy can depend on her perceptions o f collective power for women teachers.  A s Joan Sangster notes,  poststructural analysis helps to deconstruct the narrative form o f scripts for meanings in women's oral histories and to acknowledge the construction o f the narrative as text by both researcher and researched.  126  She further argues that feminist materialist insights are heeded  to focus historians to examine the ways relations o f power shape women's choices within social, cultural, political and economic boundaries.  127  Although the approaches are often  contested within feminist theory, it is an integrated feminist poststructuralist and materialist analysis for women teachers' oral history that provides a framework for 'good' feminist research. This framework provides a guide for my analysis o f women teachers' oral histories in twentieth-century Canada that can cross the often unstable and dichotomizing post-modern bridge. The deconstruction o f women's teachers' narratives reveals the structuring paradigms and processes that have shaped women's individual and collective material realities in our educational past.  48  A n earlier version of this chapter has been published: "When Oral Historians Listen to Teachers: Using Feminists' Findings," Oral History Forum 23 (2003): 89-112. Sandra Harding, "Introduction," in Feminism and Methodology, ed. S. Harding (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987), 8-9.  4 4  Shulamit Reinharz, "Neglected Voices and Excessive Demands in Feminist Research," Qualitative Sociology 16(1993): 71-72. 4 5  4 6  Barbara Johnson, A World of Difference, (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 37.  Jennifer Wicke, "Celebrety Material: Materialist Feminism and the Culture of Celebrety." The South Atlantic Quarterly (Fall 1994): 741. 4 7  Judith Butler, "For a Careful Reading," in Feminist Contentions: A Philosophical Exchange, ed. S. Benhabib, J. Butler, D . Cornell, and N . Fraser (New York: Routledge, 1995), 127-128. 4 8  Nancy Fraser and Linda Nicholson, "Social criticism without philosophy: A n encounter between feminism and post-modernism," in 77ze Postmodern turn: New perspectives on social theory, ed. S. Siedman (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995).  4 9  Joan Sangster, "Telling Our Stories: Feminist Debates and the Use of Oral History," in Rethinking Canada: The Promise of Women's History, Third Edition, ed. V . Strong-Boag and A . Fellman. (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1997), 317. 5 0  Feminist researchers have begun to challenge the monolithic characterization of these two 'camps' of thought. The diversity of analysis within poststructuralism and materialism is not central to this study, but, rather, the permeable boundaries between them are explored. 51  Majorie Theobald, "Teachers, memory and oral history," in Telling Women's Lives: Narrative Inquiries in the History of Women's Education, ed. K . Weiler and S. Middleton (Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1999), 21. 5 2  Luisa Passerini, "Women's Personal Narratives: Myths, Experiences, and Emotions," in Interpreting Women's Lives: Feminist Theory and Personal Narratives, ed. Personal Narratives Group (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989), 197. 5 3  For an overview of work in the field of teachers' oral history, see Jack Doughterty, "From Anecdote to Analysis: Oral interview and New Scholarship in Educational History," Journal of American History 86, no.2 (1999): 712-723; Ivor F. Goodson, "Studying Teachers' Lives: A n Emergent Field of Inquiry," in Studying Teachers' Lives, ed. I. Goodson (London: Routledge, 1992). For an overview of research in the more specific area of women educators' oral histories, see Peter Cunningham, "Narrative and Text: Women, Teachers and Oral History," History of Education 29, no.3 (2000): 273-280; Kathleen Weiler and Sue Middleton, "Introduction," in Telling Women's Lives: Narrative Inquiries in the History of Women's Education, ed. K . Weiler and S. Middleton (Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1999). 5 4  Kathleen Weiler, "Reflections on writing a history of women teachers," in Telling Women's Lives: Narrative Inquiries in the History of Women's Education, ed. K . Weiler and S. Middleton 5 5  49  (Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1999), 44. Weiler discusses briefly the importance of understanding some of these concepts when utilizing oral histories of women teachers. See, for example, Kathleen Casey, "Why do Progressive Women Activists Leave Teaching?: Theory, methodology, and politics in life-history research," in Studying Teachers' Lives, ed. I. Goodson. (London: Routledge, 1992); Passerini, "Women's Personal Narratives." 5 6  5 7  Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology (Maryland: John Hopkins University Press, 1976).  Joan Scott, "Experience," in Feminists Theorize the Political, ed. J. Butler and J.W. Scott (New York: Routledge, 1992). 5 8  Richard A . Quantz, "The Complex Vision of Female Teachers and the Failure of Unionization in the 1930s: A n Oral History," in The Teacher's Voice: A Social History of Teaching in Twentieth Century America, ed. R.J. Altenbaugh (London: Falmer Press, 1992), 139-140. 5 9  Ibid., 153-155. See, also, Richard A . Quantz, "Interpretive Method In Historical Research: Ethnography Reconsidered," in The Teacher's Voice: A Social History of Teaching in Twentieth Century America, ed. R.J. Altenbaugh (London: Falmer Press, 1992). 6 0  61  Rousmaniere, City Teachers, 1-2.  6 2  Ibid., 3-8.  63  Ibid., 9  Sandra Harding, "Conclusion," in Feminism and Methodology, ed. S. Harding (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987), 182-184; Spalter-Roth, Roberta and Heidi Hartmann, "Small Happiness: The Feminist Struggle to Integrate Social Research with Social Activism," in Feminist Approaches to Theory and Methodology, ed. S. Hesse-Biber, C. Gilmartin and R. Lydenberg (New York: Oxford, 1999), 334-336. 6 4  65  Harding, "Conclusion," 184. See also, Spalter-Roth and Hartmann, "Small Happiness."  6 6  Spalter-Roth and Heidi Hartmann, 340-341.  Donna Haraway, Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: the reinvention of nature (New York: Routledge, 1991), 191.  6 7  6 8  Ibid., 188.  6 9  Ibid., 187.  Joy Parr, "Gender History and Historical Practice," in Gender and History in Canada, ed. Joy Parr and Mark Rosenfeld (Toronto: Copp Clark Ltd., 1996). 7 0  71  Paul Thompson, Voice of the Past: Oral History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978), 90.  Alice Duffy Rinehart, Mortal in the Immortal Profession: an oral history of teaching (New York: Irvington Publishers, 1983), v. 7 2  50  Ibid. Review by Richard Altenbaugh, "Introduction," in The Teacher's Voice: A Social History of Teaching in Twentieth Century America, ed. Richard J. Altenbaugh (London: Falmer Press, 1992), 3. Kathleen Weiler, "Remembering and representing life choices: a critical perspective on teachers' oral history narratives," Qualitative Studies in Education 5, no.l (1992): 40. 7 4  Michele Barrett, "Words and Things: Materialism and Method in Contemporary Feminist Analysis," in Destabilizing Theory: Contemporary Feminist Debates, edited by M . Barrett and A . Phillips (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992), 211. 7 5  Leslie Rebecca Bloom, "Stories of One's Own: Nonunitary Subjectivity in Narrative Representation," Qualitative Inquiry 2, no.2 (1996): 176-188. 7 6  Wolf, Diane, "Situating Feminist Dilemmas in Fieldwork," in Feminist Dilemmas in Fieldwork, edited by D. Wolf (Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1996), 2-3. Methodological issues such as these are explored at length in the following resources: Lynda Measor and Patricia Sikes, "Visiting Lives: Ethics and Methodology in Life History," in Studying Teachers' Lives, ed. I. Goodson (London: Routledge, 1992); Sherna-Berger Gluck and Daphne Patai (ed.), Women's Words: the feminist practice of oral history (New York: Routledge, 1991); Joyce McCarl Nielsen (ed.), Feminist Research Methods: Exemplary Readings in the Social Sciences (Boulder: Westview Press, 1990). 7 7  7 8  Wolf, "Situating Femininst Dilemmas in Fieldwork," 34-36  Kathleen Weiler, Country Schoolwomen: Teaching in Rural California, 1850-1950 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1998), 1-7; Kathleen Weiler, "Reflections on writing a history of women teachers." She discusses various uses of the same sample of subjects. 7 9  8 0  Weiler, "Reflections on writing a history of women teachers," 45-55.  81  Ibid., 55-56.  Kathleen Casey, I Answer with My Life: Life Histories of Women Teachers Working for Social Change (New York: Routledge, Inc. 1993), 13-17; Kathleen Casey, "Why do Progressive Women Activists Leave Teaching?" In this article she uses the same subjects' narratives as in her book, I Answer With My Life. 8 2  83  Casey, I Answer With My Life, 8-9.  8 4  Ibid., 69-71. A similar point is made clear in the narratives of religious Catholic women teachers.  85  Barrett, "Words and Things," 202-203.  Ibid. Barrett discusses feminist poststructuralist critiques of a single causality of women's oppression. 8 6  For example, critiques of Judith Butler, Gender Troubles: Feminism and the Subversion ofIdentity (New York: Routledge, Chapman and Hall Incorporated, 1990). 8 7  51  Casey, I Answer With My Life, 31. Parr, "Gender History and Historical Practice," 15 Parr states: "Experience, this is to say, is formed through discourses. Experiences are not made by discourses, but discourses are the medium through which experiences are comprehensible. Thus the study of the elements from which experience is constituted is not a diversion from the analysis of power, but a way to understand how power works." 8 9  M . Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), as quoted by Casey, I Answer With My Life, 20-21. 9 0  Popular Memory Group, "Popular memory: Theory, politics, method," in Making Histories, eds. R. Johnson, G . McLennan, B. Schwartz, D . Sutton (London: Hutchinson, 1982), 228-234. See, also, Peter Munro, Subject to Fiction: Women Teachers' Life History Narratives and the Cultural Politics of Resistance (Buckingham: Open University Press, 1998). 91  9 2  Quantz, "The Complex Vision of Female Teacher," 142-146.  9 3  Ibid., 145-148.  94  Ibid., 156.  Margaret K . Nelson, "From the One-Room Schoolhouse to the Graded School: Teaching in Vermont, 1910-1950," Frontiers 7, no.l (1983): 14-15 and 19. See, also, Margaret K . Nelson, "Female Schoolteachers as Community Builders," in The Teachers's Voice: A Social History of Teaching in Twentieth Century America, ed. R.J. Altenbaugh (London: Falmer Press, 1992); Margaret K . Nelson, "The Intersection of Home and Work: Rural Vermont Schoolteachers, 19151950," in The Teacher's Voice: Social History of Teaching in Twentieth Century America, ed. R.J. Altenbaugh (London: Falmer Press, 1992); Margaret K . Nelson, "Using Oral Case Histories to Reconstruct the Experiences of Women Teachers in Vermont, 1900-1950," in Studying Teachers' Lives, ed. I. Goodson (London: Routledge, 1992). 9 5  9 6  Nelson, "From the One-Room Schoolhouse to the Graded School," 15-16 and 19  9 7  Casey, I Answer With My Life, 31.  9 8  Ibid., 42-43.  99  Ibid.,48.  The description of the method of interviewing and sampling is provided in both of the following resources: Sue Middleton and Helen May, "Disciplining the teaching body 1968-78: progressive education and feminism in New Zealand," in Telling Women's Lives: Narrative Inquiries in the History of Women's Education, ed. K . Weiler, and S. Middleton (Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1999), 76; Sue Middleton and Helen May, Teachers Talk Teaching, 1915-1995: Early Childhood Schools and Teachers' Colleges (New Zealand: Dunmore Press, 1997), 9-17. 1 0 0  Middleton and May, Teachers Talk Teaching. This work is reviewed by Laura Docter Thornburg, "Review of Teachers Talk about Teaching, 1915-1995: Early Childhood Schools and Teachers' Colleges," History of Education Quarterly 38 (1998). 101  52  102  Middleton and May, Teachers Talk Teaching, 17.  103  Ibid., 9-17.  Nancy Harstock, "The Feminist Standpoint," in Feminism and Methodology, ed. S. Harding. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987), 159-160. See also, Patricia Hill Collins, "Learning from Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought," in Feminist Approaches to Theory and Methodology: an interdisciplinary reader, ed. S. Hesse-Biber, C. Gilmartin and R. Lydenberg (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999). Collins discusses the distinct standpoint of Black women academics (as Outsiders Within) to influence the knowledge interrogation of concepts such as family and culture. She argues that her outsider within status enables an analysis of women's experiences based on the simultaneity of oppressions (class, race, gender).. 1 0 4  105  Ibid.  Dorothy Smith, 772e Everyday World as Problematic (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1987), 111.  1 0 6  1 0 7  Ibid, 108 and 122.  108  Ibid., 141.  1 0 9  Barrett, "Words and Things," 210.  Chandra Talpade Mohanty, "Under Western Eyes: Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses," in Third World Women and the Politics of Feminism, ed. C.Mohanty, A . Russo, and L . Torres (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991), 54. 1 1 0  111  Ibid.  112  Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, as paraphrased by Casey, I Answer With My Life, 26.  Natasha Mauthner and Andrea Doucet, "Reflections on a Voice-centred Relational Method," in Feminist Dilemmas in Qualitative Research: Public Knowledge and Private Lives, ed. J. Ribbens and R. Edwards (London: Sage, 1998), 125-133. 113  114  Michel Foucault, Discipline and punish.  115  Weiler, "Remembering and representing life histories," 44-46.  1 1 6  Ibid., 46.  117  Ibid., 43.  Weiler, "Reflections on writing a history of women teachers," 52-54. See, for example, Weiler, Country Schoolwomen. 1 1 8  53  Rousmaniere, City Teachers, 5-7. Her point is particularly relevant for the urban teaching force in the United States. See, also, Kate Rousmaniere, "Where Haley Stood: Margaret Haley, teachers' work, and the problem of teacher identity," in Telling Women's Lives: Narrative Inquiries in the History of Women's Education, ed. K . Weiler and S. Middleton (Philadelphia: Open University Press, 1999). 1 1 9  120  Ibid. She discusses this theme in most chapters.  121  Ibid., 135.  122  Ibid., chapter " A Signifying Discourse of Black Women Teachers Working for Social Change."  1 2 3  Ibid.  Jurgen Habermas, The Theory of Communicative Action, Volume 2 (translated by T. McArthy) (Boston: Beacon Press, 1993), as cited by J. Dillabough, "Gender Politics and Conceptions of the Modern Teacher," 387. 1 2 4  125  Ibid.  1 2 6  Joan Sangster, "Telling Our Stories," 317.  1 2 7  Ibid.  54  Chapter 2 The Post-WWII Objectives for Educational 'Democracy' i n Secondary Schools  To understand the position o f women teachers, we must first examine the objectives that shaped their work as agents for post-World War II Canadian secondary schools. This chapter outlines the ideological terrain women teachers had to negotiate before turning, i n the following chapters, to their position within and reaction to the broad social shifts in education during the period. Most Canadian educational historians who examine the purposes o f schooling, whether they focus on issues o f curriculum and instruction or policy and administration, debate the extent to which progressive or traditional theories o f schooling shaped education systems. Notable historians, from Henry Johnson to Robert Stamp and N e i l Sutherland, have declared traditionalism the winner o f this debate.  128  They  argue, with Ontario or British Columbia as the typical references, that Canadian education systems did not embrace progressivism i n the same manner as schools i n the United States, and, that progressivism, when included i n schooling, was primarily confined to the elementary level. These scholars conclude that Canadian secondary schools held strong to traditional philosophies until well past the mid-twentieth century. Robert Stamp makes the specific case that post-WWII secondary schools were marked by a back to basics curriculum focused on traditional subjects o f history, English and languages, teachers with liberal arts backgrounds, and the physical expansion in the number and size o f schools themselves.  129  Provincial governments and boards o f education sought to ensure a formalist mandate through prescriptive curriculum, enforced by school inspectors who evaluated teaching techniques, and capped by province-wide matriculation examinations that served to regulate student learning.  130  55  Other educational historians, including Paul Axelrod and Robert Gidney, assert that a picture o f traditionalism is not that clear. They recognize elements o f progressivism within all levels o f twentieth-century Canadian schools.  131  Robert Gidney notes in his book, From  Hope to Harris: The Reshaping of Ontario's Schools, that post-war secondary institutions, with the growing prominence o f psychology, utilized progressivism, which challenged traditional pedagogy and ushered i n new theories o f child learning. The rapid growth o f urbanization and consumerism demanded a new curriculum relevant to the modern w o r l d .  132  The implementation o f vocational programs, and an emphasis on 'child centered' and experiential learning, both i n the physical organization o f the classroom and instructional methods, similarly symbolized ingredients o f educational progressivism i n the secondary school system.  133  W h i l e addressing this long standing historiographical debate, Gidney contends i n passing that the popularization o f the concept 'democracy' i n post-WWII Canada brought elements o f progressivism into schools. Indeed most scholars have assumed that progressivism, with its promise o f gentle guidance, student choice and experiential-based learning, was the model for a democratic education. That association was not novel. John Dewey, a father o f progressive pedagogy, explained: "democratic social arrangements promote better quality o f human experience, one which is more widely accessible and enjoyed, than do non-democratic and anti-democratic forms o f social l i f e . "  134  H o w could  Dewey's ideal of'democratic' education have been a popular objective for post-war schools i f traditionalism, with its focus on academic elitism, authoritarian pedagogy, and formal discipline, was the major influence? Have Axelrod and Gidney overestimated signs o f progressivism i n post-war secondary schools?  56  Posing these particular questions is not, however, especially helpful, perpetuating as it does the idea that post-war education was caught between two purely antagonistic modes o f thought. W i t h i n this binary model, progressivism produced good, democratic schools and, by contrast, traditionalism was undemocratic and bad. Such a dichotomy is especially unhelpful when exploring the popularity o f 'democracy' as an objective for post-war public secondary schools. First, 'democracy' was not the preserve o f the 'Progressive E d u c a t o r . '  135  Second, the majority o f educators, namely, administrators and teachers, did not fit these two discreet ideological categories. Third, educational 'democracy' for post-war Canada was not necessarily synonymous with egalitarian ambitions. W h i l e historians may want to declare winners and losers in this debate o f theoretical influences, education officials from the period resisted clear and consistent definitions o f progressivism and traditionalism. Except for the exceptional individual, like conservative scholar H i l d a Neatby or progressive educator George Weir, most academics and commentators did not proclaim full allegiance to either dogma. Instead, most post-war educators claimed to work i n the name o f 'democracy.' While this had been a central focus for compulsory education since Confederation, the concept has taken on particular urgency in moments o f national crisis. 'Democracy' gained renewed prominence in the 1940s and 1950s as citizens sought to avoid totalitarianism in the wake o f the Holocaust, ensure participatory citizenship at a time o f growing civil rights and decolonization movements, and assert the superiority o f Western democracies to communist regimes. Public schools offered a means to counter all these dangers. Secondary schools with their special role i n forming apprentice adults into citizens, rather than their elementary feeders, supplied primary targets for educational democracy. 'Democratic' rhetoric was a central part o f the pedagogical agenda, inclusive o f both progressive and traditional influences. Public education, along  57  with other burgeoning social institutions and services in the areas o f recreation, health and employment, was intended to uphold liberal democracy. To that end, education officials touted the need for the best o f both old (traditional) and new (progressive) theories to produce superior sites o f every kind. In his much overlooked later work, Dewey makes just this case: democratic education cannot be defined by divisive 'isms,' the learning o f skills or historical values, and teaching to the child or the 136  subject.  After W W I I , commentators used democratic maxims o f unity and accord in  several collections o f essays on Canadian schools. In one contribution, W . H . Swift, Deputy Minister o f Education in Alberta, expressed the democratic impulse for education as an era o f Hegelian synthesis. Swift did not assert that progressive and traditional theories would be easily blended, "since some concepts are diametrically opposed," but insisted that "we are attempting to create the best we can by way o f reconciliation.. .the old and the new and, in so far as human ingenuity permits, improve on b o t h . "  137  In a similar peace-making tone,  Sperrin N . F . Chant, Dean o f Arts and Science at the University o f British Columbia and author o f the British Columbia Royal Commission on Education i n the late 1950s, reflected on the debate between progressives' emphasis on individual needs versus traditionalists' emphasis on the requirements o f the nation: " N o attempt w i l l be made here to disentangle these two basic functions o f Canadian education, they are complementary and should merge 138  harmoniously i n every feature o f the educational programme."  Swift's and Chant's words  differed little from those o f their contemporaries who, similarly working i n the name o f democracy, promised schooling free o f dissension and partaking o f a range o f the best educational methods. The rhetoric o f educational 'democracy,' encompassing both the democratization o f schools and educating o f citizens to uphold a democratic nation promised individual 58  autonomy, equality, and order i n an era o f seeming instability. Such guarantees reflect the often generic quality o f much 'democracy' talk which rather vaguely publicized post-war democratic education as everyone's business. Post-war democratic rhetoric or discourse was not, however, simply words without consequences. A s much recent scholarship reminds us, discourse "denotes statements, practices, and assumptions that share a linguistic coherence and work to identify and describe a problem or an area o f concern."  Here I understand 'democratic rhetoric' to include the policies,  standards and assumptions educators embraced to produce ideal post-war citizens. Canadian historians, such as D o u g Owram, Shirley Tillotson, M o n a Gleason and M a r y Louise Adams, have explained that definitions o f citizenship, which existed under the popular banner o f national egalitarianism, served to contain those qualities and practices that lay outside the desired post-war n o r m s .  140  Educational 'democracy' i n the 1940s and '50s promised  universal access, social services and local autonomy. These 'democratic' offerings simultaneously re-affirmed the ideal citizens as productive individuals who would selfgovern according to their positions within the social stratification o f a capitalist, JudeoChristian, and ultimately imperialist society that enshrined the nuclear family. Educational democracy, expressed through both progressive and traditional philosophies, was never primarily humanitarian. Rather, democracy was conservatively interpreted to preserve an orderly and superior 'democratic' state.  141  Despite the recognized popularity o f 'democratization' i n the post-war national agenda, few educational historians have explicitly examined how policy-makers, administrators, and 'experts' translated 'democracy' on the ground.  142  Even fewer have  taken a comparative approach to determine whether this agenda was a regional phenomenon or more national. It is for this purpose that the thesis centres on a regional analysis o f  59  Toronto and Vancouver. The comparison, between 'hogtown,' with its ' T o r y ' legacy, and the Pacific Gateway, with its 'pioneering' heritage, provides a valuable opportunity to measure the relative potential o f democratic pedagogy. A n examination o f provincial policies and local programming demonstrates that regional legacies hold true to a certain extent. British Columbia had more officials who used Deweyan rhetoric for progressiveoriented programming, such as individualized timetables and guidance/psychological services for secondary school students. Ontario secondary schools were more traditionally t  academic in orientation, but still embraced greater local autonomy for schools and teachers than prior to W W I I , particularly in the area o f curriculum planning. Despite differences, national trends and ideology, as illustrated through senior academic and political discourses across the country, ultimately prevailed even though public education was i n Canada a provincial responsibility. In ways that were reminiscent o f some o f the common p r e - W W I trends identified by Jean Barman and others, when nationally-oriented 'schoolmen' and women were at work, such as British Columbia's first superintendent o f education John Jessop and the McQueen sisters, English Canada's two dominant centres were in substantial agreement i n the years after 1945 as they faced pressures to protect the West against 'godless' c o m m u n i s m .  143  This chapter explores three areas in which potential Tiberatory' trends were evident on both a national and local level for secondary schools. The first is curriculum or the programming for schools. Programming changes post-WWII included increased vocational training within the diversified course offerings o f composite or comprehensive secondary schools. Enhanced equality o f initial opportunity was compromised by policies that sorted students into intellectual streams, academic elites and future blue-collared workers.  60  The second area is character education. W i t h formal guidance departments, supported b y psychologists, and the introduction o f more social studies courses, educators embraced secondary schools as a social service, responsible for ensuring maximum personal growth for every individual. The teaching o f seemingly universal values, like good-will, tolerance, and loyalty, was matched by a simultaneous emphasis on 'responsible' citizenship and the merits o f social hierarchy. The third aim was school re-organization or administrative reform. In the post-war period, educators sought to re-organize the school as a microcosm for participatory democracy, where local autonomy was honoured i n decision-making processes and supervision practices. Autonomy was offered by educators within the boundaries o f consolidated, central systems and for the purpose o f encouraging citizens' independence from the social welfare net. In brief then, this chapter unravels the contradictory ways 'democratic' rhetoric was invoked for learning 'effective' citizenship, from national discourses about Canadian education to the debates within Toronto and Vancouver school boards.  'DEMOCRATIZING' THE CURRICULUM  In the years following W W I I academics and political and administrative officials spoke o f a two-pronged objective for the secondary curriculum: a universal education open to all, but also aimed at producing an intellectual elite. The post-war secondary school was to have a broadening, seemingly 'progressive' purpose i n developing the average citizen. In line with the inclusion o f education under article 26 o f the United Nations' 1948 Declaration o f Human Rights, the official mandate for many Canadian educators o f the time was the gospel  61  o f universalism. Secondary schools were meant to produce a mass population that was literate, technically trained, and knowledgeable. H . L . Campbell, Deputy Superintendent o f Education for British Columbia, under the Liberal-Conservative Coalition, and author o f well-known curriculum texts during the period, stated that "democracy, or progress based on the w i l l o f the majority, is i n danger i f the average citizen is ignorant."  144  Stanley Spicer,  Vice-President o f the Canadian Association for Health, Physical Education and Recreation, writing on fitness in the expansion or re-construction o f post-war curriculum, commented: "The problem o f educating the many, with wide differences in I.Q. background, and ambition, is tremendous. The answer lies not in the restricted curriculum o f years ago.. .education must help boys and girls prepare for life i n a democratic society - a life i n which they can make their maximum contribution."  145  Both men would have applauded  trends which saw rates o f attendance in high school rise. W h i l e i n the 1940s only 28 percent o f students ages fourteen to seventeen in British Columbia were attending grade nine or higher, b y 1955 that figure rose to over 55 percent.  146  For three to five years, the secondary  school was becoming a common experience i n the lives o f most urban teenagers and thus an all the more appropriate site for social reconstruction.  147  Vocational education, or the preparation o f citizens for useful employment, was one outgrowth o f the 'democratization' o f school curriculum. The events o f W o r l d W a r I encouraged educators and others, most notably parents, to question secondary education's preparation purely for the professions. W W I I made the effective training o f trades' workers all the more urgent. The prosperity o f the 1940s and '50s with their growing urban infrastructure, which included new schools to accommodate Toronto and Vancouver's population boom, highways, railways, and hydro-electric projects, afforded parents the chance to have their children in school with the fair certainty that graduates could obtain a  62  job, at least i n the expanding blue-collar sector.  Politicians across Canada responded to  such hopes. The federal government, led b y Liberal Prime Minister W i l l i a m L y o n Mackenzie K i n g , implemented the 1942 Vocational Training Coordination A c t that funded vocational programs i n secondary schools.  149  In 1944, Ottawa entered into an  Apprenticeship Agreement with most provinces.  150  These acts spurred changes at the local  level that enabled more student choice o f technical/vocational programs in secondary schools. B y the early part o f the 1950s, most Toronto secondary schools were establishing new business and industrial courses. For example, Malvern Collegiate Institute created a commercial department, while Bloor Collegiate Institute increased its Industrial Arts and Crafts courses.  151  A t much the same time, the Vancouver Board o f Trustees announced the  renovation o f Industrial Arts shops and Home Economics laboratories in more than six 152  secondary schools.  When speaking at a 1956 Canadian symposium, B . F. A d d y , principal  o f the Manitoba Technical Institute, pointed to the 'democratic' impetus for burgeoning vocational and industrial education initiatives: "The strength o f Canada and its progress as a nation is inseparately bound with the skills and technical and scientific knowledge o f its people. W e must ever maintain a productive people i f we are to remain free."  153  The pure vocational or technical school, however, was unusual. Educators sought a less divisive and more egalitarian 'democratic' model. The most common pedagogical pattern was the 'one-size-fits-all' composite or comprehensive secondary school. Such initiatives combined the technical institute and academic high school, but also provided instruction i n general education for non-university bound students who did not want to declare a vocation. This model provided for diversified programming, inclusive o f three graduation programs for university, general or technical education, alternative courses for slow and gifted children, and a greater number o f elective courses. The composite school v  63  meant a significant curriculum overhaul to address individualized needs o f students and to fulfill the ideal o f education for 'every man's child.' Reflecting on the comprehensive school model sweeping across most Canadian provinces, Winnipeg'principal and Assistant Superintendent, Ewart H. Morgan, wrote: "The Canadian high school today is one o f our democracy's great experiments. It adventurously undertakes to gather i n the masses o f our teen-age youth and to provide them a large part o f the cohesive elements that bind them into a Canadian people."  154  Implementing decisions made just prior to the war, the Vancouver Board established seven new or re-structured six-year composite secondary schools, to replace most separate junior high and high schools (grade seven to twelve with senior matriculation).  155  The larger  composite school and its wider range o f study options enabled the Vancouver Board to introduce individual timetables as opposed to class timetables and to experiment with the innovative use o f majors for students.  156  H . M . Evans, Registrar o f the Department o f  Education for British Columbia, stated i n 1958 that the province committed itself to a comprehensive policy i n an "attempt to satisfy.. .the extensive requirements o f mass secondary education in its varied communities."  157  In the Toronto area at the time, the  majority o f secondary students experienced comprehensive programming within four year collegiate institutes (grade nine to twelve with senior matriculation), retaining junior high schools for middle grades. This course o f study included fewer options for students than in Vancouver, as more core academic subjects were necessary for graduation. These core courses were accompanied, however, b y additional options i n home economics, commercial subjects, business, typewriting, and shop.  Speaking o f post-war trends i n education, C C .  Goldring, the director o f the Toronto Board o f Education from 1951 to 1959, emphasized that the Board needed "classes and schools that were organized differently to meet the  64  varying needs."  159  For example, i n 1952 alone North Toronto Collegiate Institute ( C L ) ,  Harbord C.I., Humberside C L , Jarvis C L , Oakwood C.I. and Riverdale C L experimented with remedial programs in most o f their academic subjects, and intensified their guidance departments to assist students in selecting courses to ensure successful completion.  160  Although based on differing strategies, the annual reports from both the Vancouver and Toronto Boards signal that secondary schools were no longer meant to be preparatory colleges for elites. Instead, secondary schools became focal points for ensuring a breadth o f moral, physical, and labour force competence. Attempts to increase and diversify programs to include all types o f students did not necessarily result in equality within the system or the 'democratic' community. Board officials i n both cities promised universality and inclusion i n response to complaints that schools failed too many students. Matriculation was still most common among the middleupper class but enrolment increasingly included a growing urban immigrant population.  161  Although the average girl or boy was attending school for more years than ever, the majority o f those who entered high school failed to graduate. Figures across Canada show that only approximately one quarter o f students attained high school graduation i n 1 9 5 6 .  162  Retention  rates i n urban centres were typically higher than i n rural areas but only one-quarter to onethird o f students were completing grade twelve i n T o r o n t o .  163  Statistics were significantly  higher for British Columbia, and specifically Vancouver: approximately 50 percent o f children were completing grade twelve in the early to mid-1950s.  164  Statistical variation could, however, reflect a number o f factors from the lure o f employment opportunities and the socio-economic demographics o f the school population to inconsistent data collection methods. I f post-war educators' assertions o f the correlation between curriculum and retention rates are accurate, however, then a central factor may also  65  have been the different types o f post-war comprehensive schools i n the two cities. Vancouver secondary schools were more comprehensive, housing six levels and more individualized student plans. Toronto, while certainly working towards similar goals, kept a four year graduation program within its predominant collegiate institute, which retained fewer options outside academic subjects. In any case, Toronto vice-principals, to a much greater degree than their Vancouver counterparts, made retention a primary initiative for the early 1950s by conducting surveys on the causes o f drop out rates and measures to o f address this issue.  165  The seemingly more academic bias o f Toronto's programming may have been a tacit acknowledgement o f the unrealistic hope for equality o f vocational and academic programs within mass secondary education. This point was made explicit by Ralph Tyler, University o f Chicago Professor o f Education and renowned curriculum theorist, who wrote i n the 1953 issue o f the British Columbia Teachers' Federation ( B C T F ) newsletter, The B.C.  Teacher.  " W e have been doing something about getting more and more o f our youth population into the school, but all too often we have failed to realize that equal opportunity is not thus assured. M a n y children, because o f their limited background, are not receiving i n the school the opportunity.. .to live as intelligent citizens i n a free society."  166  Tyler's remarks  accurately describe the post-war secondary school in which general education was offered to one and all, yet students were still not positioned to reap its touted benefits equally. A survey conducted in 1957 by the Vancouver School Board showed that only 31 percent o f grade twelve students had chosen the General Program. From 1945 to 1961, only approximately 27 percent o f the total secondary school population i n Toronto was participating i n non-academic programs.  Even with a poor graduate rate, it is likely  students remained i n university entrance programs because employers, parents and educators  66  continued to believe in its prestige over the stigma attached to general and vocational streams i n schools.  168  A s Canadian historian Harry Smaller points out, based on the work o f American sociologist Aaron Benavot, while some have seen the development o f vocational education as a moral commitment to equal educational opportunity, others have observed it as "a natural outcome o f expanding democratic societies bent on integrating and socializing new citizens."  169  H e supports this latter point by arguing that in Ontario most pure vocational  and technical institutes were situated i n working-class, immigrant, and industrial urban communities. R o n Hansen's work on composite schools explains that its growth can be attributed, in part, to the hope that the public would have confidence i n a new and better school concept that embraced expanding notions o f egalitarianism. A t the same time, he argues, the concept originated in England, and flourished i n post-war Canada, when policy makers needed to create the perception o f comprehensiveness i n order to temper potential public unrest over class differentials, including class-based s c h o o l s .  170  It is not difficult to  see how the democratic innovation o f the inclusive and flexible post-war curriculum, could also be viewed as a giant sorting system to funnel students along pre-determined channels. In the context o f post-war Canada, many public commentators were not subtle in communicating their belief that general and/or vocational education was a suitable dumping ground for 'unsuitable students,' namely, newly arrived immigrants, working class youth or even the 'retarded,' who might become semi-educated workers to meet the demands o f industry i n an expanding capitalist society. In 1957, Dorothy Thompson, a columnist for the Globe and Mail, described general education as "utilitarianism at the expense o f precise knowledge, and apparently assumes the average American (Canadian) child is halfmoron."  171  These sentiments were echoed by education officials. George M . Weir, self- , 67  proclaimed progressive, Head o f the Department o f Education at the University o f British Columbia, and later Minister o f Education under successive Liberal governments, described the early stages o f vocational training in the following manner: "There are jobs for the fit, and we are trying to fit the unfit for jobs. That is the whole purpose o f our vocational 172  training."  C C . Goldring explained his policy o f inclusiveness as experimenting to "adapt  programmes to the abilities and needs o f students with limited capacities.. .not curtailing pupils' preparation for higher education."  173  For these educators, the paramount problem was not actually mass education or children o f ' l i m i t e d capacities,' it was the gifted child. Educators were anxious that the intellectual elite, seen as the future leaders o f the nation, could be lost in the masses. A t a 1956 conference held at the University o f British Columbia and covered extensively by The B. C. Teacher, an executive for Imperial O i l Limited expressed the widespread belief that the security o f the nation was dependent on the secondary school focusing on the small group "whom we call the gifted."  174  Society, he argued, relies on the gifted "for pioneering  advances i n knowledge, for expert opinion i n all fields, and for the leadership upon which the fate o f our Western civilization must ultimately depend."  175  Discovering and developing  untapped human intelligence was critical to post-war educators. This resource was considered one o f the greatest weapons in the intelligence race o f the period; a race that reached its peak with Russian's Sputnik i n 1957. School promoters used Soviet technological and scientific advancements as a reason to focus on intellectual leaders. In 1957 D r . Samuel R . Laycock, renowned Alberta educational psychologist and professor o f education, warned Toronto audiences that his latest study showed: "The gifted child i n Russia is getting every opportunity to develop his talents.. ..Long before the end o f high  68  school [in Canada], gifted boys and girls meet a distaste for academic work. They are made to travel the pace o f the average child." To focus on the intellectual elite, many educators argued, was not undemocratic. Indeed, ignoring the gifted simply for the principle o f universalism was portrayed by many as unjust, undemocratic and dangerous. Historian Jacques Barzun from Columbia University wrote for the University of Toronto Quarterly: " W e cannot afford to waste talent and keep ourselves at the common level o f amiable dullness when every 'people's democracy' manufactures as many elites as it does classes o f fighter planes."  177  Hilda  Neatby, outspoken conservative Canadian educator and critic, asserted that the country's democracy could only be assured with the re-intellectualization o f schools. A University o f Saskatchewan history professor, she believed that non-university bound students were genetically inferior burdens on an overcrowded secondary system. In one o f Neatby's many popular texts, A Temperate Dispute, she cited contemporary statistics that identified 70 percent o f children as incapable o f intellectual development past age twelve or fourteen. A s a result, educators should properly focus resources on the more promising 30 percent.  178  this did not occur, in her words " . . . we w i l l be looking for a master race to organize u s . "  If 179  Neatby led the Canadian campaign against progressivism. In her well-known book, So Little for the Mind, she argued that progressive ideas that school should be child-centered, stress experiential learning, and reward all students' individuality were anti-intellectual and anticultural and did not exercise the m i n d .  180  Neatby believed egalitarian aims for more  vocational courses, or the provision o f resources for every child, translated into lowered standards and mediocrity. In her view, the educator's primary function was intellectual 181  training: " . . .to dispel ignorance, and to train the mind for control and power."  Unless this  was the standard for all students, according to Neatby, 'true' democracy could not survive,  69  as the masses would become like a herd blindly following a leader.  Neatby did not reject  the principle o f universal access to education. She asserted, however, that education should set a high academic standard for all students, and that no special provision should be made: essentially, the fittest survivors needed to lead a 'democratic' nation. The assertion that the best kind o f universalism should mean access for all to a traditional, academically oriented education was representative, albeit i n more tempered form than Neatby, o f much post-war provincial political dialogue and policies. In the 1950s, British Columbia and Ontario appointed royal commissions to investigate education: both invoked the principle o f universality, highlighting the need for every student to be intellectually challenged i n post-war secondary schools. M a n y historians have argued that the 1950 Ontario Commission on Education, chaired b y Justice John A . Hope, took a moderate position somewhere between progressive and conservative ideas. They cite the report's call for a three-tiered system (six years o f elementary, three years o f junior and four years o f secondary level schooling) and its limited funding for separate schools, as well as its traditional focus on teaching students the virtues o f Christianity and honest hard w o r k .  183  Education officials supported the report's traditional elements, namely, the commissioners' lengthy declaration that: " . . .mastery o f subject matter is the best present measure o f effort and the most promising source o f satisfaction i n achievement. W e are not unduly concerned that a proportion o f school tasks should be hard and unpalatable, because much o f life is 184  equally so."  Leslie Frost's Tory government shelved many o f the more radical elements  o f the report. Significant Ontario administrators and politicians, such as W i l l i a m Dunlop, Minister o f Education in the 1950s, supported the centrality o f the traditional pursuit for the mastery o f knowledge. Dunlop, supported by Premier Frost, stated i n his annual report on education i n 1951 that schooling's prime purpose was to produce loyal, intelligent, right70  thinking citizens.  H e argued that this would not be accomplished until the 'fads' o f  progressivism were eliminated. Although vocational programs continued to retain more students than academic streams, Dunlop concentrated his efforts on reinstating history and geography as separate subjects in place o f the progressive favourite o f ' s o c i a l studies,' curtailing course options in high schools, and limiting grants for extra-curricular activities.  186  A s the decade o f the space race intensified so too did the focus on intellectual leaders in British Columbia. In 1958 its Royal Commission on Education, led by Sperrin N . F . Chant, was given a mandate to assess all phases o f the educational system and its philosophy, organization and finances. The Report concluded that the general aim o f the public school system should be "that o f promoting the intellectual development o f the pupils, and that this should be the major emphasis throughout the whole school programme."  187  This Report sharply departed from the previous government-initiated curriculum review, the 1925 Survey of the School System, and its explicitly progressive agenda set by Harold Putnam, an Ottawa School Inspector, and George W e i r .  188  Historian F. Henry Johnson  notes that Chant commissioners rationalized a new focus on the academically inclined as being necessary first to learn "more intelligent ways for dealing with the problems that threaten the human race," and second because "intellectual development has been traditionally accepted as the primary c o n c e r n . "  189  Towards this goal the commission  recommended the re-classification o f school subjects so that more time would be devoted to the 'central' subjects o f English and math and less time 'wasted' on art and home economics. It also recommended that teaching techniques, like the project method, should only supplement external examinations, uniform grading standards and competition in the classroom.  190  The Vancouver Sun reported that education officials uncritically embraced the  Chant Report. Only Neville Scarfe, Dean o f the University o f British Columbia's College o f  71  Education and outspoken progressive, was opposed: slamming the Report as "depressing, disappointing and reactionary."  191  Evidently he found few to agree with him. Almost all o f  the Chant recommendations, including a lengthening o f the school year, were implemented in some form or another by the Minister o f Education, Leslie Peterson, in the early 1960s. Despite the trend toward vocational subjects and despite differences between educational authorities in British Columbia and Ontario, most were faithful to a conservative conception o f democracy; the promise o f universality, but limited by the necessity for an intellectual elite. The concept o f a 'democratic' curriculum was for most prominent postwar critics o f education based on equality o f access and not equality o f opportunity. Secondary schools represented an investment i n human capital that promised successful competition in the volatile postwar world. The effects o f economics on school objectives were highly visible. Population increases put resources at a premium. A s Goldring noted i n a 1959 Globe and Mail article, educators faced with "overcrowding schools and all types o f abilities" had to focus on the idea o f the "same opportunity rather than equality o f opportunity i n terms o f ability or need."  192  Equity o f access was set within the bounds o f affordable liberal arts subjects. The  academic bias o f the secondary school lessened the strain on the system's limited finances and teacher s u p p l y .  193  A more academic curriculum could promise equality at more  affordable costs while i n fact favouring those pupils who were intellectually and otherwise gifted by reason o f class, gender and ethnicity.  72  'DEMOCRATIC' VALUES  In addition to curriculum reconstruction, the development o f values or 'character' was a critical post-war educational objective. The comprehensive secondary school would expand professedly 'progressive' services and courses that would provide social, physical and emotional guidance for the 'whole' child. The character-building function was intended both to assist students' personal development and to teach them responsible civic choices. Instruction o f 'democratic' values promised personal and national freedom. For that reason, school officials placed the objective o f character education on par with intellectual stimulation in their agenda for educational 'democracy.' This was the message o f W i l l i a m F. Russell, the president o f Columbia University Teachers' College, in an address to the Toronto chapter o f the Ontario Secondary School Teachers' Federation ( O S S T F ) i n 1950. He started by arguing that freedom was "not only confronted by hostile armed forces," but i n seemingly peaceful times "by that sly enemy within and without - C o m m u n i s m . "  194  Russell  argued: "...we may expect our descendants at some future time to go so very far to the left that they may make certain decisions.. .that w i l l end in the destruction o f their liberties."  195  He went on to cite Aristotle's doctrine that democracy is fragile without counter measures.  196  In Russell's opinion, protection o f democracy began with educators' eliminating the "great gap between knowledge and conduct."  197  Familiarizing students with the knowledge o f their  rights and responsibilities as citizens within a democracy was not enough. Students had to learn how to perform their citizenship duties according to the nation's culture. The patriotic imperative for teaching 'democratic' values informed the 1951 article written by Paul R. Hanna, Professor o f Education at Stanford University and a specialist in the area o f social studies, for The B.C. Teacher. A s he explained: "In a divided world, where the totalitarian  73  governments are effectively using education to indoctrinate for authoritarian values and to immunize against democratic values, the democracies have no alternative except to do a fundamentally better job o f preserving and improving our way o f l i f e . "  198  Guidance programs were a specific manifestation o f efforts to provide morally grounded and productive curriculum and life choices. Such services had been for the most part an incidental and nebulous part o f school life for almost two decades prior to 1 9 4 5 .  199  Not until the post-war period did school officials formally organize guidance departments and services in secondary schools across the country. These programs were intended to address public concerns that youth were rejecting 'proper' citizenship under the influence o f immoral actions i n the world and transgressions to traditional values within Canada. A s historian M a r y Louise Adams argues, public expressions o f fear escalated over a supposed rise in juvenile delinquency due to inferior wartime mothering, an increasingly consumeroriented culture, and exposure to communist sentiments.  200  Reformed youth were central to  a post-war reconstruction agenda to restore order and a sense o f 'normality.' N o other time or place to indoctrinate 'proper' character was better than sites where almost all teens spent a number o f their formative years. D r . Jack Griffin, first president o f the Canadian Mental Heath Association, explained that the "child is in a relatively controlled environment for several hours each day and the possibilities o f building in h i m sound emotional habits and attitudes as well as good social relationships are unexcelled."  201  Guidance services were  established for these very purposes, namely, the personal and social adjustment o f students to make suitable educational and life choices. Based on services ranging from individual counselling to aptitude studies, the secondary school began assuming functions o f other social institutions, including the home and church, to help students function better i n post-  202 war society. 74  B y the early 1950s, guidance services were implemented i n the comprehensive Toronto secondary schools through Attendance Departments, with the assistance o f C h i l d Adjustment Services and C h i l d Guidance Clinics. C C . Goldring reported i n 1951 that students were increasingly seeking their assistance. The Attendance Department, for example, had assisted 5,943 children and parents, up by 22 percent from the previous 203  year.  According to Edward Davidson, the Chairman o f the Toronto Board, secondary  schools had fully implemented guidance services by the end o f the decade. H e outlined the mounting work o f the Attendance Department, including visits to truants' homes to "improve trouble which may be financial, psychological, physical and environmental" and contributing to a clothing centre for students who lacked "adequate attire."  204  Guidance  programs were expanded to address reports o f growing absenteeism, parental neglect, juvenile employment, delinquent behaviour, and health problems.  205  Vancouver started  formally addressing these same issues with the inception in 1944 o f the Division o f Educational and Vocational Guidance within the Department o f Education. This division i n the 1948-49 school year alone approved 34 counselling schemes for British C o l u m b i a .  206  Support for counselling included the distribution o f guidance materials, bursaries for secondary school in-service training, and studies on pupils' employment aptitudes. The Vancouver School Board regularly used these resources. Furthermore, under its own initiative in 1955, the Board co-ordinated with the Department o f National Health and Welfare and local secondary schools to establish training programs for 'special counsellors' who would assist teachers with designated problem p u p i l s .  207  Such social services were imbued with the pro-active, scientific 'expertise' o f psychologists. A s historian M o n a Gleason argues, psychologists' claims to specialized knowledge o f children's development guaranteed them a primary place i n character 75  training.  The 'scientific' methods o f psychologists were incorporated into post-war  \  schools as a progressive and democratic method, unlike the subjectivity o f teacher observation, to enable fair and accurate measure o f student maturity. Longstanding faith i n science's ability to measure and control human behaviour soared in the post-war search for guarantees i n an age o f uncertainty. The resurgence o f scientific testing came despite increased post-Holocaust public skepticism to claims to a hereditary basis o f character and intelligence. Teachers, counsellors, and parents turned to psychologists' scientific findings to help 'guide' students. Toronto Board officials certainly considered the mental health community to be partners in producing proper citizens. The board took over C h i l d Adjustment Services from the Department o f Public Health in 1951, and consequently began to establish permanent psychological services for the mental, emotional and social development o f all secondary p u p i l s .  209  B y 1954, the Board reported regular visits by  psychologists to service 'problem children,' train teachers to administer group intelligence tests and improve their techniques o f interviewing children, and to direct parent workshops 210 on mental health.  The focus on children's social and mental health needs pressed school  systems, and specifically teachers, to diagnose and correct maladjusted characters.  211  B y the  end o f the 1950s Dr. Stogdill, a psychologist working with the Toronto Board, reported to a newspaper that the heavier load on the child adjustment services staff necessitated hiring more mental health specialists for secondary schools.  212  Psychologists also flourished in Vancouver secondary schools. Indeed psychological testing had an exceptionally strong presence i n British Columbian schools. According to historians Thomas Fleming and David Conway, the post-war mandate for mental testing had been set as early as 1925 with Putnam and W e i r ' s survey. It recommended that a Bureau o f Measurements be set up i n Vancouver for the province to conduct some o f the first  76  standardized intelligence testing i n Canada. Within its first year, the Division o f Tests, Standards and Research administered achievement tests to seventy-seven thousand pupils and aptitude tests to more than fifty-thousand. such tests.  214  213  B y year ten it had conducted over 500,000  W h i l e tests were explicitly designed to differentiate the bright from the slow,  supporters believed they also served to give reliable, though not infallible, guidance to moral worth. G . M . Weir, who organized the institutionalization o f testing, made regular pronouncements i n line with progressive educator Edward L . Thorndike, a leader o f the American eugenics movement, that pure intelligence, social intelligence, nationality, and socio-economic background correlated positively. Drawing from his intelligence study o f student nurses, W e i r concluded that the most intelligent and moral were from middle-class families o f English, Scotch and Irish ancestry. H e wrote: "dullness and moral worth are related almost as closely as twin brothers."  215  M o n a Gleason argues that psychologists  presented testing as an instrument to demystify the developmental needs o f each student, but those needs were i n turn strictly set within the bounds o f race, culture and class. She cites, by way o f example, poor scores on Stanford intelligence tests given to interned Japanese students o f British Columbia as legitimating educators' insistence on assimilation through the use o f English. Gleason further notes that the emphasis o f psychologists " . . .on the satisfaction o f children's needs for affection, belonging, independence, social approval, selfesteem, and creative achievement," instead o f providing justification for diversity and selfexpression, lent itself to the demands o f social authorities for the production o f an "obedient, 91  fx  industrious, and happy citizenry." The affirmation o f traditional racial, class and gender boundaries was a clear part o f the character education agenda o f Toronto and Vancouver secondary schools. Educators expressed concern that i n the comprehensive and mass secondary school age, students would 77  neither learn nor accept their appropriate social position. M i d d l e class youth, particularly males, symbolized hope and prosperity with their potential for scholastic achievements and future professional careers.  217  In contrast, working class adolescents, and especially ethnic  minorities, with their seemingly culturally impoverished homes, conjured up delinquency and required a moral discipline rather different than their class and racial superiors.  218  Part  o f citizenship training in schools, therefore, was teaching all students 'responsible' behaviour that varied according to their appropriate social positions i n society. H . L . Campbell revealed this philosophy in a 1952 lecture: without training "responsible citizens who seek the common welfare rather than selfish goals," modern universal education may reach a point i n which all are educated for white-collar work and "no youth are willing to do necessary physical work o f the world."  Fundamental values o f integrity and service to  others needed to be taught to guarantee class and gender as well: " . . . w i l l young women with high school education be content to marry and raise families on a f a r m ? "  220  T o address these  concerns, Toronto and Vancouver educators complemented greater social services with more formal and informal classes i n the lessons o f normative and 'responsible' post-war citizenship. L i k e discussions o f the aims o f guidance and psychology i n schools, talk o f 'democratic' values in Canada's youth through revised course offerings was most often steeped in vague language o f liberation. The opaqueness o f 'character' is perhaps most evident in the growing number o f social studies courses offered i n post-war schools. Both the Vancouver and Toronto Board increased their social studies course options to include subjects from history and geography to law, economics and political science. The importance o f such courses is indicated by the fact that the number o f social studies credits required for graduation, not to mention the number o f electives, was equal to mathematics in  78  both school systems. The overall purpose for social studies courses i n Toronto and Vancouver was similar, and not surprisingly, explicitly intended to invoke patriotism, skepticism regarding left-wing propaganda, a sense o f 'brotherhood' within the country and the world, respect for law, and acquisition o f such personal habits as courtesy and neatness. A close study o f each group o f social studies courses is beyond the scope o f this study, but one innovative course for Vancouver secondary schools provides some insight into the more specific agenda for post-war reconstruction o f 'normality.' In 1951-52, British Columbia created a new course entitled Effective Living that was implemented for grades ten to twelve. In support o f its goal o f open minds and toleration, the course encouraged question and answer and discussion and personal reflection, rather than traditional memorization or recitation. A l l course units, including Personality, Family, and Community Health, underscored "developing a stable heterosexual pattern," "developing habits o f constancy and loyalty," and "adjusting to accepted customs and conventions." The course guide offered such leading questions as " W h y is wearing the right dress a mark o f maturity?"; "I spend every cent I can. Society won't let me starve. Is this a mature attitude?"; "What is the importance o f religion to happiness i n life and i n marriage?" Toronto schools would not offer a similar course until the 1960s, but did address these units within their 1942 social studies curriculum revisions, particularly in Physical Education and Health. From establishing the nuclear family to becoming a mature worker, social studies courses clearly differentiated proper and improper citizenship. Educational historians have particularly noted lessons i n implicit racial superiority within social studies courses. Timothy Stanley argues that by 1925 schools textbooks had contributed towards British Columbia becoming a white supremacist society. H e demonstrates that geography and history texts transmitted imperialist and racist ideas o f a  79  province born out o f white man's progress over the morally depraved A s i a n and First 221  Nations 'Others.'  Jose Igartua has undertaken a similar study for Ontario, but specifically  addressing the 1940s and '50s. Approved history texts, namely George W . B r o w n ' s Building a Canadian Nation (1942) and Arthur L o w e r ' s Canada: A Nation and How it Came to Be (1948), detail how a hierarchy o f the races was a basic component o f secondary school texts. Igartua argues that these texts represent the British 'race' as the authors o f freedom and democracy, fighting off threats to the birth o f Canada, namely, Aboriginal and 222  French peoples.  Social studies courses, like the new social services o f the post-war  secondary school, thus served disciplining, limiting, and sorting functions. While social studies is most often given the greatest attention by citizenship scholars, 'character' education pervaded formal and informal classes. For example, lessons i n the reaffirmation o f the nuclear family were central to the secondary school environment i n both cities. In her introduction to A Diversity of Women, Joy Parr concludes that social authorities considered the disruption o f the nuclear family to be a main cause for unrest and it thus garnered a great deal o f attention i n the post-war years. She argues that legal heterosexual coupling, with the middle-class father as breadwinner, was a national metaphor for a strong consumer economy, cohesive and peaceful relations, and thus a defense against 223  Communism.  Societal trends fed fears o f social breakdown. Particularly worrying were  veterans coming back mentally scarred from fighting, mothers absent i n war work entering paid labour in greater numbers than any previous peacetime period, increasing numbers o f urban immigrant and working-class families, and divorce rates steadily rising from 88.9 per 100,000 married persons ages fifteen or older i n 1951 to 124.3 in 1 9 6 8 . moral backbones o f Canadian youth needed stiffening. 80  224  N o wonder the  According to A . D . Flowers, a principal in British Columbia, writing in a Vancouver newspaper, children needed to learn "more than just reading, writing and arithmetic. Boys had to learn how to be boys, and girls had to be taught how to be ladies."  225  Vancouver  school reports made special mention of their ladies' fashion shows to exhibit the great work of home economics, the strength of their future nurses' and teachers' clubs that would direct unmarried girls into admirable professions, as well as mother-daughter and father-son evenings to solidify gender identification. Toronto School Board reports highlighted night classes in homemaking, domestic arts classes for immigrant women, and more coeducational sports, like square dancing and badminton.  This latter program was part of a  wider array of secondary school offerings in both cities, including marital classes, which were intended to foster nuclear families. William Blatz, the director of the Institute for Child Study at the University of Toronto, made this point when he recommended that teenagers mingle more between the sexes so they "can sublimate their sex appetite into directions which will aid them to maintain the ideals of chastity and faithfulness which our 227  social culture considers to be essential." Mary Louise Adams notes that Christian ideals underpinned educators' encouragement of students towards middle-class, domestic goals.  228  These goals provided a  bulwark against godlessness, symbolized by the potentially harmful influences of a burgeoning popular culture.  Specifically, educators suspected that youth were being  'corrupted' by crime comics with their subversive homosexual imagery, rock and roll music with Elvis' pelvic thrusts, and salacious Hollywood movies from James Dean's Rebel Without a Cause to Marilyn Munroe's fatal sexuality in Niagara.  While materialism  encouraged the growth of capitalism, and its offerings of the middle-class life, social authorities worried that youth would become self-indulgent or unproductive without 81  Christian discipline. A survey conducted by the Canadian Youth Commission in the mid19408 indicated that most young women and men were aware of and even shared educators' concerns. They agreed that while schools taught them important subjects and developed thinking abilities, they were less convinced that they had suitable learning in citizenship, 231  specifically, sufficient preparation for the wise use of leisure time. J.G. Althouse, acting in his role as Chief Director of Education for Toronto schools, appealed to board members, early in 1950, to address the proper use of youth's leisure time. He noted that prior to depression and wars, the West had been lulled "into a false sense of security" based on the "assumption that knowledge meant wisdom."  232  With the threat to  democracy, he asserted, children understood that freedom was not a natural state. Youth's years should be spent in practicing self-discipline, greater human understanding, and religion.  233  Althouse was reaffirming a policy for religious instruction that had been  implemented in elementary schools since 1944. At that time, Ontario Premier George Drew's Conservative government introduced the 'Drew Regulation,' which legislated two half hour periods of religious instruction per week in public schools. This instruction was under consideration for secondary schools upon recommendation by the Hope Commission in 1950. During the post-war period, religious exercises, inclusive of a scripture reading, repetition of the Ten Commandments at least once a week and the Lord's Prayer daily, and memorization of selected Bible passages, opened each secondary school day.  234  Martin  Sable, a Jewish Studies scholar, argues that it fell upon the Jewish community, and particularly, Rabbi Abraham Feinberg of Toronto's Holy Blossom Temple, to protest on behalf of minority children the Protestant doctrine of the 'Drew' regulation and other such regulations.  The Jewish community issued a particular complaint to the Toronto Board  82  over the distribution o f Gideon Bible that excluded the O l d Testament to all Toronto students. Spirituality, as a replacement for worshipping material progress, would also be a central lesson for Vancouver secondary students. In a 1960 speech to Magee Secondary School graduates, school board vice-chairman W i l l i a m J. Burnett explained that success was defined, not b y wealth, but by happiness. H e stated: " N o work is menial or humble.. .neither wealth, education, position, nor power w i l l necessarily guarantee success." The valedictorian o f the ceremony confirmed Burnett's message b y insisting that students use their biblical school motto as their guide i n life: "Let There B e Light." The driving force behind religious instruction was again progressives Weir and Putnam. Their Survey of the School System i n 1925 proposed the option o f Bible study in public schools to compensate for insufficient character training i n other social institutions.  Faced with the fear that  Bible study would spur a separate school system, and the fact that the Public School Act policy precluded sectarian teaching, Putnam and Weir had to wait until leaders from the various Christian denominations reached an agreement on the content for instruction. In 1941, Bible study was approved as an 'extra-mural' or elective course for grade nine to twelve students to take for university entrance.  237  The rationale stressed personal  enlightenment motivating students towards social obligations o f harmonious living. Although not compulsory, unlike the prayers and biblical readings required at the start o f the day, the Bible course illustrated the direct relationship between Christianity and good citizenship. This was certainly the message for minority students, i n particular aboriginal youth, who were being forcefully integrated i n the British Columbia school system i n the post-war p e r i o d .  238  After a revision o f the Indian Act i n 1951 to educate Indian children i n  association with other children whenever possible, the British Columbia Government made  83  arrangements for an increasing number o f aboriginal children to attend public schools. W h i l e the integration o f aboriginal students would primarily take place i n rural schools, public enrolment figures went from 1,200 in 1952 to 3,788 i n 1961. B y 1962-63, almost 400 aboriginal students were entering public secondary schools. For all youth, the message o f 'democratic' citizenship held central tenets, defined similarly by senior education officials across the political spectrum; students were to adhere to Christian ethics, uplift traditional family values, and realize the potential contribution o f their social status. The difference between those educators who would claim progressive or traditional alliances was not so much the substance o f 'democratic' values, but rather the method o f their transmission. For the healthy psychological and social development o f students, progressive adherents supported the introduction o f courses and social services, albeit through methods o f discussion and debate, rather than traditional discipline and rote learning. They interpreted the school as a critical part o f an increasing social safety net, inclusive o f broadened health-care initiatives and unemployment provisions, which came to characterize Canada i n the post-war period. It was this extra responsibility that concerned more conservative educators. H i l d a Neatby acknowledged that liberal definitions o f democracy that focused on personal liberty and social equality were admirable, "but these same functions can and should happen i n homes and churches.. .schools have done well i n some o f these areas with health services and guidance and psychological treatment.. .but should focus on its main purpose that no other agency can provide.. .to dispel ignorance." Neatby's national discourse joined more localized discussions that lauded citizenship training of'democratic' values in the schools in so far as it did not detract from academic goals.  84  239  This was the tone o f a series o f editorials in local and national newspapers i n the post-war period. A Vancouver Sun editorial i n late 1946 reviewed an education conference in Vancouver on social studies led by G . M . Weir. The author commented that educators were groping in the fog for a way to address ethical values i n education: "Too many teachers seem to think the solution lies i n piling more courses upon the unfortunate p u p i l s . "  240  Weir  and his supporters were criticized as overestimating the capacity o f children. In a Vancouver Herald editorial over a decade later, similar sentiments were expressed. It juxtaposed 'drivel' guidance offered in the Chicago public system, including lessons on 'building good relations with our parents,' with Japanese schools that merely insisted on behaving i n a civilized manner, without 'social studies" or "elaborate courses in behaviourism which make our forefathers look like dolts."  241  The author concluded that education should not be 'social  behaviour' under any fancy name or methods other than traditional study with "a 242  considerable exercise o f muscle."  A year later, reporter Philip Deane o f the Globe and  Mail extensively critiqued secondary schools in the United States in an article entitled "Character, Not Missiles, Is the Challenge." Citing the work o f Arthur Bestor, well-known conservative education critique and author o f the Educational  Wastelands: The Retreat from  Learning in Our Public Schools (1953), Deane blamed schools offering girls courses i n 'marital adjustment' for creating ignorant students. Most educators did not assert an either/or choice between education for life adjustment or knowledge. J.G. Althouse, a political moderate, agreed that schools were becoming burdened with new responsibilities. Y e t he also approved o f them helping children to develop wholesome human relationship through religious and moral teaching. Althouse's solution was to teach such qualities "through indirect methods more than courses."  244  For Althouse and others, indirect methods included dress codes, extra-curricular 85  activities, Home and School or Parent Teacher organizations, student involvement with volunteer organizations and industry, and, most importantly, exposure to teachers of 'good' character. While most of these elements were certainly a part of school environments, secondary schools in both Vancouver and Toronto also embraced direct methods of character education. Character training encompassed professedly progressive aims for personal development and contribution towards a broadening social safety net. At a time when transgressions of normality or the fears of abnormality seemingly threatened 'democracy,' these aims were firmly and conservatively rooted in pre-war patterns of gender, class and racial hierarchies.  ORGANIZING FOR ' D E M O C R A C Y '  In order to foster the personal development of'democratic' values, the school attempted to use these principles as a guide for effective social organization. A n autocratic and pedantic climate was out of fashion in the post-war context. Educators rationalized trends towards decentralized decision-making powers as both a 'progressive' step towards equality and a necessary lesson in self-sufficiency. Its products need not become dependent on a welfare nation. In keeping with the rationale, most post-war educators agreed that the secondary education system needed to be re-organized as a laboratory for society's participatory 'democracy,' complete with collaborative methods and harmonious living. School officials needed to redistribute power so that all school communities, teachers, students, parents and administrators from the rural and urban regions could meaningfully contribute to educational and national betterment.  86  Such sentiments were also international in scope, according to the editors of The B.C. Teacher and its sister newsletter of the OSSTF, The Bulletin.  Both extensively covered  British conferences and reports on the role of education in the making of national democracy. A February 1951 issue of The Bulletin that detailed a British report on the best forms of school organization was indicative.  245  The authors presented three potential  structures for the secondary school. The first was depicted as factory-like, a place in which students were given facts like widgets and memory-based tests at certain ages to split them out mechanically into the work world.  246  This model treated students as automatons unable  to cultivate personal relationships and understand 'real living'. The second, the happy family, addressed such shortcomings by focusing on the pursuit of friendliness and happiness for all school members. While the authors suggested personal fulfillment is a positive goal, they argued true 'democracy' could not exist without motivating citizens by a broader purpose. In contradiction to the twoflawedmodels, the third democratic model was held up as the ideal. The democratic school focused on members taking individual responsibility to enrich the entire community. Relationships among staff and students, and staff and administrators, and administrators and political officials were to be marked by consultation and mutual respect. The environment would not be authoritarian, but, rather, enable choice, individuality and teamwork. The authors idealistically concludedfromthe British research that: "Only experience of life in a democratic school community can give young people the values they need and the understanding upon which to build full and happy 947  personal lives."  In order for the secondary school system to fulfill its objectives for the  training of all students into productive and good citizens it had to practice democracy. If the ideals of democratic partnership were to be realized, one of the first issues for Canadian educators was regional equality. This was one premise behind the post-war trend 87  toward larger school districts. Their advent in post-war Canada was hailed as a progressive step towards solving financial inequities. Consolidation would provide more adequate funding and facilities to out-lying areas.  248  B y the end o f W W I I , Canada had fallen behind  most English-speaking countries in its efforts to conquer the geographical expansion o f schooling.  249  Because o f its shift to consolidated school units, Britain had become the  measure for democratic organization i n teachers' federation newsletters. Popular demand for equitable distribution o f education resources had swept Canada for years prior to the war as better roads, proliferation o f motorized cars, the mechanization o f farm work and increased technical education lessened the rural and urban divide.  Demand outpaced the  initial response o f provincial officials who largely left local communities to fund their education costs. For example, prior to the war, Ontario's provincial grants were approximately 10 percent o f the total costs o f school boards, unlike Great Britain which provided grants that covered between 40 to 80 percent o f local school costs.  251  The lack o f  central funding disadvantaged poorer rural communities who, without tax bases comparable to more prosperous urban areas, could not pay for educational improvements or better credentialed teachers. Post-war Canadian school officials believed consolidation provided the democratic solution to equal opportunity for smaller municipalities and rural communities. Provincial authorities intervened to centralize education funding so that taxes would be collected and re-distributed evenly, based on the needs o f districts. This money would go to more consolidated school facilities where provinces could cost-efficiently provide adequate facilities and educational standards to youth o f less wealthy communities. B y the mid-1950s, provincial grants across Canada started to climb to British rates as some 780 larger unit boards amalgamated 16,000 smaller boards.  252  According to the  Superintendent o f Education i n British Columbia, J . F . K . English, the greatest advantage o f  88  consolidation was "the contribution o f the larger unit to social living. Because o f the facilities offered b y the larger unit for secondary education, rural and urban children m i x readily, and social barriers are broken d o w n . "  253  British Columbia led the national trend with a quicker and more geographically • encompassing response than most provinces.  254  Change came i n 1944 when the provincial  government appointed a one-man inquiry into the finances o f the public education system. Dr. M a x e l l A . Cameron, who was an education professor at the University o f British Columbia and the author o f a study o f educational financing i n Ontario, was charged to make recommendations for wide-scale reform. W h i l e initially a finance study, Cameron soon found this issue inseparable from administrative reform. H i s primary objective was the creation o f school districts "large enough and powerful enough that their work w i l l be a challenge to the trustees who control them and to see to it that these districts have financial resources adequate to their responsibilities." large districts out o f an original 650.  255  Cameron recommended the creation o f 74  The new entities would be financed by a basic  district rate o f taxation, with provincial grants to cover the difference between tax revenue and extra expenditures, a share o f total costs that "would always be well over h a l f . "  257  This  scheme was unique on the national scene, covering more villages and cities than most reorganization plans, providing for a provincial contribution second only to Prince Edward 9SR  Island, and implementing the plan within a year o f its finalization.  Provincial grants that  seemed generous i n 1945, however, quickly became inadequate with rising inflation, birthrates and capital expenditure costs. The province spent the next decade trying to determine a more equitable formula for school funding. After an investigation by H . L . Campbell i n 1955, a revised formula increased school districts to eighty-two, and more importantly, replaced Cameron's suggested fixed grants with a diversified plan that 89  addressed local needs for capital building costs and transportation expenses.  While school  consolidation had the largest impact on rural areas and their administrative structures, the Vancouver School Board, re-zoned during this time as district 39, was also hugely influenced b y the new funding formulas and the increasing capital costs the province covered. The Toronto Board also underwent consolidation i n response to the need for greater financial equity. L i k e British Columbia, change did not come until the mid-1940s. Historian Robert Stamp details Ontario's movement towards assuming more local costs, beginning with recommendations i n a 1938 report by the Committee on the Costs o f Education. During the 1943 election, when Conservative leader George Drew, in his attempt to stave off a left-wing Co-operative Commonwealth Federation ( C C F ) victory by running on a platform o f social justice amidst global prosperity, guaranteed the provincial assumption o f 50 percent o f school taxes previously collected on real estate.  Upon victory  and the necessity to balance the books, this promise dropped to 50 percent o f an approved list o f costs. Nonetheless, once implemented i n 1945, local expenses were appreciably less than prior to W W I I : urban boards received between 30 and 60 percent o f approved costs based on population and grants for rural boards ranged from 50 to 90 percent.  The same  post-war inflation, population boom and increase in capital projects that reduced the effectiveness o f the Cameron plan on the Pacific i n the 1950s meant that provincial grants would slip to below 30 percent o f total costs for some school areas.  Larger school  districts were again the answer to spiraling costs. Ontario's school consolidation plans were more haphazard and slower than British Columbia's. Not until 1950 did the Hope Commission recommend the province-wide replacement o f local administrative units with large regional boards.  263  W i t h disagreement among the commissioners and surrounding  90  controversy over some radical elements o f the report, few provincial educators were ultimately w i l l i n g to systematically impose reform on rural areas.  264  Nonetheless, many  school boards voluntarily amalgamated to cope with the demand for more schooling and dwindling revenues. B y the early 1950s some 536 township areas had replaced 3,465 rural school districts.  In addition, the Toronto Metropolitan School Board emerged i n 1953  from urban and suburban municipalities.  266  W h i l e the intent o f such broad changes was financial equity, some educators and communities resisted centralization schemes that abolished locale authority and identities. Furthermore, increased provincial grants did not erase the large disparities i n tax revenue for rural consolidated districts.  In Ontario, rural resistance halted compulsory wide-scale  reform. In the West early experimentation with district consolidation was similarly met by rural accusations that the government was being "arbitrary, undemocratic, coercive, despotic, fascist, and even un-British."  T o justify consolidation provincial authorities  advocated strong local controls. For example, M a x w e l l Cameron advocated that local residents elect their own school trustees who would work in direct communication with the province through district superintendents to determine allocation o f resources, staffing decisions and priorities for school programming.  The British Columbia Teachers'  Federation supported this revised structure in a 1959 brief to the Royal Commission on Education: " A s school boards assume policy-making responsibility and cease to be primarily executors o f policy made i n [the provincial capital of] Victoria, they may be expected to attract to their membership outstanding, community-minded citizens."  270  Similarly, The  Hope Commission advocated that amalgamated boards assume more decision-making powers over i n standards o f teaching, school management routines, and selection o f curriculum materials.  271  J . G . Althouse spoke o f the delicate, yet critical, relationship 91  between local and central authorities when implementing new reforms: "Forward steps in Ontario education are taken when a number o f communities become interested i n new phases o f educational service.. .Our reforms march forward on a ragged front... [but] they march forward with the informed understanding and active support o f the people who maintain and patronize the schools."  272  One major initiative to produce a smoother and clearly democratic partnership between local and central authorities was a post-war change i n the conception o f supervision. In particular, inspectors shifted from the older arm's length critical assessors to locally-employed collegial assistants. A s new, less qualified teachers were responding to the demand for their services, inspectors could not provide necessary, personalized assistance. Ideal supervision was re-conceptualized as democratic, decentralized and collaborative. In 1956 G . E . Flower, the Director o f the Canadian Education Association's K e l l o g g Project in Educational Leadership, described the transformation. Under the old system the provincial government would send out inspectors to ensure that local boards were using grant money properly, namely, following all school regulations, such as attendance laws, and following the prescribed course o f studies, particularly judging the competence o f teachers.  273  With  the creation o f larger school districts, the inspector no longer skipped from board to board auditing standards. Rather, larger districts, and particularly urban boards, which now had the responsibility o f operating more complex school systems, were granted permission by the province to employ their own inspector. In theory, the 'new' inspector, being locally appointed, would be able to better address community needs while ensuring provincial standards for schooling. J . G . Althouse described the 'new' inspector o f Ontario as "an 974  executive officer and a financial advisor to his boards."  J . F . K . English o f British  Columbia described the same official, whose title in that province was officially changed to 92  district superintendent o f schools i n 1958, as working " i n a closer relationship with school boards... [with] more administrative work i n addition to their special responsibility, which is the supervision o f instruction in the schools."  275  While inspectors or superintendents worked  in an executive capacity, typically with the due respect from trustees and teachers, they were no longer the locus o f official provincial power. Inspectors had the legal right to attend board meetings but lacked voting privileges. Instead, it was assumed that board members would avail themselves o f the inspector's "experience, training and k n o w l e d g e . "  276  According to the Public School Acts o f British Columbia (1958) and Ontario (1954), the city boards o f Vancouver and Toronto would use inspectors in their new administrative capacity; to evaluate and record the organizational and instructional quality o f a school district, and, where necessary, provide recommendations for change to maintain provincial standards.  277  Given the extra duties o f administration for the local inspector, or district superintendent, J . G . Althouse reported, there was little time or energy remaining for 978  instructional supervision.  Local inspectors required the growing support o f assistant  supervisors, grade consultants, and directors o f instruction. Vancouver appointed four teachers i n 1955 to the newly created position o f teacher-consultant.  Teacher-consultants,  who became province-wide with the Public Schools A c t o f 1958, were meant to assist teachers, particularly those at the probationary stage, with their instructional methods.  279  For  Ontario, according to the Supervision and Inspection Committee o f the O S S T F , it was the school staff, and particularly the heads o f departments, who took on the duty o f regular peer 280  supervision.  The provinces' inspectors were instructed to appraise the work o f teachers,  981 the accommodations o f the class, and the success o f students, as well as schools' internal methods o f supervision.  93  School officials in both provinces looked to the principal for internal school supervision. In an article entitled "The N e w Principal," G . E . Flower explained that post-war Canadian officials had borrowed from the British model o f the principal as headmaster.  282  A s a master teacher i n close daily contact with teachers, pupils and the community, the principal was ideally suited to be an instructional leader, rather than an administrative coordinator. Local principals' associations developed, and university summer courses on principalship thrived, in efforts to address the previously overlooked role o f the principal on the supervisory team. Whether principal, department head, teacher consultant or inspector, the expected form o f supervision in the post-war secondary school had changed from judgment and  f enforcement to a more 'democratic' process o f collaborative review for improved instruction. C . W . Booth, deputy minister o f education for Ontario, spoke to the revised aims in supervision at a national level in the September 1959 issue o f Canadian  Education.  Booth argued that supervision had changed from "cold, critical analysis imposed from above to the present friendly, sympathetic, co-operative appraisal o f daily work by supervisor and teacher for the benefit o f teacher and pupils a l i k e . " prompt professional self-study and regulation.  285  284  The prime purpose, he insisted, was to  H e concluded that: "Supervision at its best  is a co-operative project, involving pupils, teachers, department heads, principals, superintendents, and inspectors - all working together and giving their best for the school, the community, and the nation."  The rhetoric o f the period often managed to frame  supervision as democracy in process but this was not always obvious. G . E . Flower recounted a story o f a teacher who was visited first by an inspector, then b y the assistant inspector, followed by a helping teacher, and ending with a supervisor for public health and one for the province's physical education branch. The teacher commented after all o f these 94  friendly visits: "I am glad to say that none o f them managed to keep me from doing m y 9 Si *7  work."  Stories o f supervision were not always that innocuous. Boards and teachers spoke  o f inspectors who remained over-authoritarian, especially in rural areas where they had more authority, trustees who 'blacklisted' teachers from certain districts, and principals who withheld teachers' increment pay with overly-critical written reports.  Educators treated  these issues as scandalous when they found their way to newspapers, because excessive supervision disregarded one principle o f participatory democracy; a sense o f autonomy. A s British educator, Sir Arthur Binns, stated at a Principals' Conference held at the University o f British Columbia i n 1958, " Y o u can never make professional people out o f men and women who merely or even mainly carry out the orders o f other people."  289  The need for autonomy i n a substantive educational 'democracy' carried over from the re-conception o f supervision to curriculum reforms. The post-war years saw growth i n the participation o f teachers, and even lay groups, i n the development o f curriculum. A s the populace and purpose o f the post-war secondary school broadened, so too did its stakeholders. More parents were demanding a voice in what their children learned in school, and industry leaders were demanding certain skills be taught to their future employees. I f teachers were required to transmit an increasingly complex program o f study and take responsibility for making this knowledge base fit for each student, then they needed to be trained participants in curriculum development. It no longer sufficed for one or two 'experts' who were removed from the classroom to dictate materials that teachers were simply to f o l l o w .  290  W h i l e the initial writing o f course studies and final approval remained  in the hands o f provincial experts, Departments o f Education across the country more than ever were w i l l i n g to consider the desirability o f teacher and lay representation on general curriculum policy and procedure committees, and to a greater extent on subject committees 95  to revise or prepare courses o f study and materials to suit local situations.  Allan  Morrison, Director o f Curriculum and Research for the Department o f Education i n N o v a Scotia, argued that the increased participation was a necessary part o f a democratic nation: " A society which is based on government responsible to a widely enfranchised population is founded on an assumption that people can and w i l l make decisions which are good i n the long run.. ..that the individual can be depended upon to do his best according to his 'light and l e a d i n g . ' "  292  Morrison's faith i n democratic procedures for curriculum building, from an administrative perspective external to the classroom, found some room i n the policies o f Ontario. In 1949, the newly appointed Tory Minister o f Education, Dana Porter, announced the 'Porter P l a n . '  293  Porter was assisted b y the head o f the Ministry o f Education's  curriculum branch, Stanley Watson, a rare self-proclaimed progressive i n Ontario political circles.  294  A significant component o f the plan was a relatively wide divestment o f power to  school communities. The Department o f Education, through co-ordinating committees, provided suggested courses o f study to local committees who had the power to disregard them and create their o w n .  2 9 5  Furthermore, province-mandated Departmental examinations,  except for Senior Matriculation, were abolished, which freed school staff to determine assessment o f their course requirements.  296  The process for curriculum development also  underwent reconstruction. In addition to the standard input o f superintendents, principals, and teacher training personnel, curriculum committees would have official representation 297  from Home and School Associations and the Ontario Teachers' Federation (OTF).  The  O T F had a uniquely co-operative relationship for a teachers' federation with provincial authorities i n this period, which provided for strong leadership from teachers in the area o f curriculum design. This was due i n part to an O T F initiative which, i n conjunction with the 96  Ontario Education Association and co-ordinated by Ontario teacher Blanche Snell, established more than sixty committees in 1947 and 1948 to study each subject area in the secondary curriculum. The high level o f participation demanded b y teachers became apparent within years o f the implementation o f the Porter Plan. Over 5,000 teachers on 139 local curriculum development committees revised more than 1,400 courses i n 129 areas, including a number in T o r o n t o .  298  The Department o f Education encouraged teachers'  participation: "...the acceptance o f the responsibility for curriculum revision provides teachers with an opportunity to reach their true professional status.. .group participation w i l l give teachers practice i n those democratic techniques and procedures...It w i l l afford the opportunity for the development o f democratic leadership."  299  Within a year o f this  statement, Porter left his position with the Ministry to pursue leadership o f the provincial Tory party. H i s replacement, W . J . Dunlop, did not see curriculum reforms as a priority. B y the end o f the decade, only twelve committees remained and only 18 percent o f teachers participated.  300  Education leaders i n British Columbia shared Dunlop's underlying skepticism o f the program. W h i l e school officials i n the province sought curriculum feedback from teachers and lay groups, they did not call for the same widespread consultation and local powers. According to H . L . Campbell, the British Columbia government believed that not only the public, but teachers, lacked the ability to decide independently on courses o f study. W i t h lower professional qualifications due to high demand, and the presence o f scientific, welltrained, curriculum personnel i n central offices, untrammeled local initiative was no answer.  301  British Columbia officials were not w i l l i n g to say, however, that Ontario's  curriculum organization was superior or more democratic. Chairman o f the B C T F curriculum committee, D o n Pritchard, explained that Ontario was "just catching up with the  97  more progressive centres. Secondary classes there are still organized i n 'forms'; there is little use of'options' in our meaning o f the term; and 'promotion by subject', and 'individual timetables' are used as yet by only a very small minority o f the high schools."  302  Undeterred  by rebuffs, the B C T F still pushed for a greater teacher voice i n curriculum building. Upon the advice o f progressive educator Herbert B . K i n g i n 1935, who later became the Chief Inspector o f Schools, curriculum committees had been created, under the Council o f Public Instruction, with teacher and public membership. The B C T F wanted direct representation on the province's Central Curriculum Committee in 1 9 4 8 .  303  Despite being guaranteed only  consideration o f representation, the federation and its teachers continued to participate i n some curriculum committees, albeit in relatively l o w number compared to Ontario. Approximately 125 teachers worked on various standing and advisory curriculum committees in 1 9 5 8 .  304  In 1961 the Department o f Education formally recognized the value  o f their contributions and granted the federation three places on newly established secondary and elementary Professional Curriculum Committees.  305  Although central authority would continue to characterize the post-war secondary school, with prescribed content and inspections, officials supported a shift i n policy that encouraged the active participation by an increasing number i n the education community. Movement toward democratic re-organization, or at least the rhetoric o f democratic administration, resembled for some educators, such as Stanley Watson o f Ontario and G . E . Flower o f British Columbia, a Deweyan model: educators' co-ordination o f experiences to stimulate change by and i n the best interest o f those whom the changes affected. In Flower's writings, the post-war re-organization was to create an environment "to stimulate, to encourage, to assist, to guide, and even to direct teachers so that they w i l l experience the maximum professional development and hence make available to their pupils the riches  98  possible learning experiences."  Most school officials who supported such reforms rarely  spoke directly of progressive influences. Instead, educators made the case for system-wide democratic procedures based on their cost-efficiency and productivity. After all, the consolidation of schools was a money saver, as was the extra-curricular, voluntary participation of teachers in curriculum planning. Some academics and political officials proffered an even more conservative ideological justification: practices in participatory democracy, which offered elements of local autonomy and space for individual voice in administrative matters, rightly discouraged citizens from dependence on the state. They warned that without democratic reforms the secondary school might produce citizens who were reliant on the welfare o f government-supported education and thus a welfare nation. This conservative message was the foundation of Frank MacKinnon's many widelyread texts on education, history and governance in Canada. A t the time principal o f Prince of Wales College (later the University o f Prince Edward Island), he was well-known within political and administrative arenas of education. In one of his most noted texts, The Politics of Education, MacKinnon wrote that "democracy itself is on trial" because the state was simply telling schools how to educate, and doing so according to populace f a d s .  307  He  argued that political authorities had refused to grant teachers and administers enough control over education, a refusal based on the assertion that they had a democratic responsibility to the public that elected them to oversee such matters.  308  MacKinnon implied that the state's  emphasis on submission to authority did not represent the public will, but, rather, resembled a totalitarian regime. He asserted that there would be greater efficiency i f teachers were not forced to adopt the duties of administrators or "play politics," but, rather, simply had the "freedom to teach."  309  Teachers who "subordinate their own thinking and efforts to the kind  o f window dressing which impresses officials.. .thereby stifle the innate quality of initiative  99  and independence necessary for scholarship."  310  M a c K i n n o n was not arguing for each  person to have direct decision-making powers within the democratic school. Rather, each member o f the school should concentrate on their specific function in the system. M a c K i n n o n wanted teachers to be free from interruptions by inspectors and bureaucratic duties like heavy paper work, so that they could focus on the academic training o f young people. I f not, he argued, the state would continue to dominate; teachers and students would get into the habit o f receiving rather than getting, and expecting rather than d o i n g .  311  Peoples' dependency on the state, according to M a c K i n n o n , was sparked by 'undemocratic' school organization and was hazardous to teachers and students. It was, thus, teachers' responsibility to not only protect their rights within the school, but to ensure democratic rights i n their classrooms. Teachers could only effectively teach i f they inspired self-discipline. Such arguments i n favour o f autonomy influenced instructional methods in post-war secondary schools. The Toronto Board experimented with the implementation o f language labs for French courses, which would allow girls and boys to follow their own pace o f study along with dictation cassettes.  312  The Vancouver Board proudly announced that  their straps were locked away and discipline through 'man-to-man' talks was the modern approach that got results from teenagers.  313  Secondary schools in both cities used workshop  techniques and open debating in social studies classes to encourage students to form their political opinions. In addition, towards the end o f the period, Vancouver and Toronto schools experimented with television programming, provided by the Canadian Broadcasting Company, to motivate students to develop their own interpretation o f the content provided i n the classroom.  314  According to post-war psychologists, healthy adolescents could only  develop within a democratic setting that enabled them to practice inner discipline in their work, and have freedom i n school to make their own choices and mistakes. Influential  100  American child psychologist, D r . Benjamin Spock, spoke to this point at an international conference on child psychology held i n Toronto i n A p r i l o f 1954, stating that teachers influenced " . . .the atmosphere o f the classroom.. .their [students] inner d i s c i p l i n e . "  315  The  famous pediatrician often directed his message to elementary teachers. The same message was also given to their secondary colleagues. George Roberts, a Durham Board principal and past president o f the O S S T F and O T F , explained to secondary teachers in the 1959 issue o f The Bulletin that flexibility could result in wrong decisions by students, but that: "This, we are told, is a lesson i n responsibility for democratic choice, and a risk that must be taken."  316  School officials' desire for individuality within educational democracy fit snugly with a conservative vision o f a productive citizenry that served, rather than burdened, the state. Roberts warned: '"joyriders' are perhaps the greatest obstacle in the way o f one o f the teacher's major objectives: the nurturing o f the individualist in the age o f conformity."  317  It  was not simply the health o f the student, but rather the health o f the democratic nation that concerned Roberts and many other educators. Roberts worried that Canadian schools were following the trend o f the United States where, "having created a welfare state o f the body, they are now trying to create a welfare state o f the m i n d . "  318  Roberts and other conservative  critics, including M a c K i n n o n who referred to education as the new 'social service,' were also concerned with the government's renewed social security initiatives during the postwar period, such as health insurance, unemployment insurance and workmen's compensation. W h i l e more broadly based welfarism could be interpreted as protective measures for labour, the state provided only those concessions, some scholars have argued, that would thwart socialist activities, and secure a labour force fundamental to the Fordist regime o f accumulation.  319  Conservatives worried that the social security net would produce a lazy or 101  overly-dependent citizenry. The school could prevent this by inculcating students' with selfreliance and individuality. A s the first director o f U N E S C O , Julian Huxley stated at the time, " M a n must now take a conscious part in his own evolution, or there w i l l be no evolution."  A s this chapter has suggested, schools were to ensure that each person made  the 'right' choices to contribute as 'good' citizens to the 'democratic' nation.  This chapter argues that, to understand the post-war period, educational historians need to look beyond progressivism or traditionalism. Rather, educational officials worked to produce secondary schools in the name o f democracy, a term that embodied diverse values. Given the chaotic post-war years, few education officials could deny those values that liberal 'democracy' conjured up in the minds o f the public: freedom, equality, autonomy and order. What did 'democracy' really offer for the post-war educational agenda? 'Democratic' objectives, from national to more localized political and administrative discourses, and inclusive o f both progressive and traditional theories o f learning, produced an educational agenda that solidified, more than it disrupted, pre-war patterns o f normality. The ideal citizen was re-affirmed through post-war secondary schooling as white, middle-class and heterosexual. The conservative invocation o f citizenship was often masked i n the fluidity and multiplicity o f language for 'democratic' values, relations and practices in secondary education. A closer examination o f the assumptions and practices that underlay such discussions reveals that potentially 'democratic' visions were rife with hierarchical, bureaucratic and autocratic methods designed to "lead and direct an adequately socialized 321  majority."  The freedom and choice o f a universally accessible education was envisioned  as equality o f access and not o f opportunity. M o r a l stability through character education provided for personal growth but always within the bounds o f traditional values. The 102  secondary school's laboratory for practical democracy provided for individuality and autonomy accompanied by inner-discipline that was to guarantee social stability. This critical examination o f educational 'democracy' illustrates that the concept itself is at once identifiable and clear, as well as unstable, contradictory, and at times, elusive. The next chapters w i l l suggest what the conflicted message o f educational democracy meant in classrooms. In particular, they explore what the gendered implications were o f democracy for the agents o f its implementation. What did freedom, morality and autonomy offer for women teachers i n post-war secondary schools i n Toronto and Vancouver?  103  Johnson, A Brief History of Canadian Education; Stamp, The Schools of Ontario; Sutherland, "The Triumph o f Formalism." 1 2 8  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 193. See, also, Robert M . Stamp, " G r o w i n g U p Progressive? Part II: G o i n g to H i g h School i n 1950s Ontario," Historical Studies in Education 17, no.2 (Fall 2005): 321-31. 1 2 9  1 3 0  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 193.  Paul A x e l r o d , " B e y o n d the Progressive Education Debate: A Profile o f Toronto Schooling i n the 1950s," Historical Studies in Education 17, no.2 (Fall 2005): 227-41; Gidney, From Hope to Harris.  1 3 1  1 3 2  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 30.  1 3 3  Ibid., 31.  John Dewey, Experience and Education (60 Anniversary Edition) (Indiana: K a p p a Delta P i , 1998), 34. See, also, John Dewey, School and Society (Chicago: University o f Chicago Press, 1900); John Dewey, Democracy and Education (New Y o r k : M a c M i l l a n , 1916). 1 3 4  th  There exists on-going debate among education scholars, particularly i n the United States, concerning competing strands o f progressivism. Scholars have identified two primary strands, namely, the liberal pedagogical progressives and the conservative administrative progressives. M o s t educators agree that more radical groups o f progressives had a limited presence i n schools, particularly i n first part o f the last century, w i t h administrative reforms dominant. Furthermore, as D a v i d Labaree notes, pedagogical and administrative progressives, for their differences, shared many beliefs and often worked together. This was the case i n post-war Canada. M y study places a greater emphasis on these similarities than Labaree, working as it does from the perspective o f 'senior officials' and teachers for w h o m such distinctions were rarely acknowledged i n the post-war context. See, D a v i d F . Labaree, "The E d School's Romance with Progressivism," i n Brookings Papers on Education Policy, ed. Diane R a v i t c h (Washington: Brookings Institution Press, 2004). 1 3 5  1 3 6  Dewey, Experience and Education.  W . H . Swift, "Pendulum or Synthesis?" i n Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 1, 1954-1956 (Toronto: W . J . Gage, 1956), 83-84. 1 3 7  S.N.F. Chant, " A Canadian Education," i n Canadian Education Today: A Symposium, ed. J . K a t z (Toronto: M c G r a w - H i l l , 1956), 15. 1 3 8  Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal, 8. She bases this definition on M i c h e l Foucault, The History of Sexuality, V o l u m e 1: An Introduction ( N e w Y o r k , 1990); Jeffery Weeks, 'Foucault for Historians,' History Workshop 14 (Autumn 1982): 106-119. 1 3 9  Owram, Born At the Right Time; Tillotson, The Public at Play; Adams, The Trouble With Normal, 18-38.  1 4 0  Jean M a n n , " G . M . W e i r and H . B . K i n g : Progressive Education or Education for the Progressive State?" i n Schooling and Society in 20"' Century British Columbia, ed. J . D . W i l s o n and D a v i d C . Jones (Calgary, Alberta: Detselig Enterprises Limited, 1980), 115. 1 4 1  104  Notable exceptions in the Canadian context include: Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal; Adams, The Trouble with Normal. 142  Jean Barman, Sojourning Sisters; F. Henry Johnson, John Jessop: Goldseeker and Educator: Founder of the British Columbia School System (Vancouver: Mitchell Press, 1971). 143  H.L. Campbell, Curriculum Trends in Canadian Education (Quance Lectures in Canadian Education) (Toronto: Gage, 1953), 96-97. 1 4 4  Stanley T. Spicer, "Physical Fitness - A Problem for the Schools?" Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 2, 1956-1958 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1959), 61 and 64. 1 4 5  M.Wisenthal, "Summary of total full-time enrolment, by level of study, related to relevant population, Canada, selected year, 1951 to 1975" Historical Statistics of Canada, Section W: Education, 11-516-XIE (Ottawa: Statistics Canada, 2003). 1 4 6  1 4 7  Adams, The Trouble with Normal.  1 4 8  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 9.  John E. Lyons, Bikkars Randhawa, and Neil A . Paulson, "The Development of Vocational Education in Canada," Canadian Journal of Education 16, no.2 (1991): 142. 1 4 9  B.F. Addy, "Vocational and Industrial Education," in Canadian History Today: A Symposium, ed. J. Katz (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1956), 135. 1 5 0  Ontario Institute for Studies in Education of the University of Toronto, Ontario Historical Education Collection (OISE/UT, OHEC), Toronto Board of Education, Director of Education, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools work by the Toronto Board of Education, 1951, 5; 1952,37-39. 151  City of Vancouver Archives (CVA), Public School Records, Vancouver School Board, Board of School Trustees Annual Report, 1951-1952. 152  153  Addy, "Vocational and Industrial Education," 136.  154  Ewart H . Morgan, "Secondary Education," in Canadian History Today: A Symposium, ed. J. Katz (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1956), 124. C V A , H.B. Smith, "Ten Years of Secondary Education," Board of School Trustees Annual Report, 1959-60. 155  D. B . MacKenzie, "Providing for Individual Differences in Secondary Education in British Columbia," Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 1, 1954-1956 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1956), 33-36. 1 5 6  H . M . Evans, Composite High Schools in Canada, University of Alberta Monographs in Education, no.l, (1959):76, as cited by F. Henry Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia (Vancouver: Publications Centre, U B C , 1964), 182. 1 5 7  105  Toronto District School Board Sesquicentennial Museum and Archives (TDSBA.), Toronto Board of Education, Year Book (Toronto: Noble Scott Co. Limited, June 30, 1954), 12. For a listing and map of the collegiate institutes in the Toronto and Metropolitan areas see the Ontario Secondary School Teachers' Federation provincial newsletter, The Bulletin, November 1957 and November 1959. Newspapers of the period show that education officials debated the proposition of combining junior and senior high schools. This initiative was, however, shelved during the period under study. T D S B A , C C . Goldring, "Appendix: Trends in Education," Toronto Board of Education, Board Minutes, January 6, 1950. 1 5 9  1 6 0  OISE/UT, O H E C , Report on the experimental and newer aspects..., 1952, 8-10.  161  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 183.  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 188; Chant, "A Canadian Education," 15. 1 6 2  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 183; OISE/UT, O H E C , Canadian Teachers' Federation, "Information Notes - Pupil Retention in Canadian Schools," Pupil Retention in Canadian Schools (Ottawa: Canadian Teachers' Federation Research Division, January 1957). 1 6 3  OISE/UT, O H E C , "Pupil Retention in Canadian Schools"; Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 188; C V A , Board of School Trustees Annual Report, 1952-1958. 1 6 4  1 6 5  OISE/UT, O H E C , Report on the experimental and newer aspects, 1953, 4.  1 6 6  Ralph W. Tyler, "Facing Up to the Big Issues," The B.C. Teacher, January 1953, 155.  W.G. Fleming, Ontario's Educative Society, Volume 3: Schools, Pupils and Teachers (Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 1972), as quoted by Harry Smaller, "Vocational Training in Ontario's Secondary Schools: Past, Present - and Future?," Training Matters: Works In-Progress for the Labour Education and Training Research Network (York University, Centre for Research on Work and Training, April 2000), 14. 1 6 7  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 184. Toronto officials state in their 1953 annual report that schools were finding it difficult to obtain consent from parents to limit academic course options to those grade nine students who had limited ability or ambition. OISE/UT, O H E C , Report on the experimental and newer aspects, 1953, 3-4. 1 6 8  Aaron Benavot, "The Rise and Decline of Vocational Education," Sociology of Education 56, no.2 (1983): 63-76, as cited by Harry Smaller, "Vocational Training in Ontario's Secondary Schools," 10. For information on the history of streaming in Ontario schools see, Bruce Curtis, David W. Livingstone and Harry Smaller, Stacking the Deck: The Streaming of Working-Class Kids in Ontario Schools (Toronto: Our Schools/Our Selves, 1992). 1 6 9  Ron Hansen, "Comprehensive Secondary Schools: A Pilot Study of Two Ontario Schools Fifty Years After the Introduction of Comprehensive Programming," (Unpublished Report) (London, ON: The University of Western Ontario, Faculty of Education, 2002), 1: 1 7 0  106  Dorothy Thompson, Globe and Mail, 15 November 1957, as cited by William E. Hume and Harold F. Taylor, Trouble in the School: Educators Cheat Your Child and the Nation (Bracebridge, O N : Bracebridge Books, 1958), 12. 171  172  "Weir Says B C Youth Get Equal to Best," News Herald, 24 January 1947.  173  OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects, 1951, 2.  R.S. Ritchie, "Your Product and Customers," The B.C. Teacher, February 1957. This was a talk adapted from an address delivered before the B.C. Education Conference, held at the University of British Columbia on November 16, 1956. 1 7 4  175  Ibid.  "One Student In Five Is 'Wasting School's Time'," Vancouver Herald, 4 Februrary 1957. This was a Canadian Press story that came out of Toronto. 1 7 6  Jacques Barzun, "The Battle Over Brains in Democratic Education," The University of Toronto Quarterly 23, no.2 (January 1954): 115. 177  1 7 8  Hilda Neatby, A Temperate Dispute (Toronto: Clark, Irwin and Company, 1954), 19.  1 7 9  Ibid.  Hilda Neatby, So Little for the Mind (Toronto: Clark, Irwin and Company, 1953). See, also, Arthur Bestor, Educational Wastelands: the retreat from learning in our public schools (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1953). 1 8 0  181  182  Neatby, So Little for the Mind; Neatby, A Temperate Dispute, 12. Neatby, A Temperate Dispute, 32-34, 45-49.  Hugh A . Stevenson, "Developing Public Education in Post-War Canada to 1960," in Canadian Education: A History, ed. J.D. Wilson, R. Stamp, and L.P. Audet (Toronto: Prentice-Hall Limited, 1970), 387-399; Johnson, A Brief History of Canadian Education, 170-171; Douglas Myers, "From Hope to Hall-Dennis: The Official Report as an Instrument of Educational Reform," in Means and Ends in Education: Comments on Living and Learning, ed. Brian Crittenden (Toronto: The Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, 1969), 11-14. 183  Province of Ontario, Report of the Royal Commission on Education (Hope Commission) (Toronto: King's Printer, 1950), 34. 1 8 4  185  186  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 193. Ibid.  Province of British Columbia, Report of the Royal Commission on Education (Chant Commission) (Victoria: Queen's Printer, 1960), 17-18.  107  J. Harold Putnam and George M . Weir, Survey of the School System (Victoria: King's Printer, 1925).  1 8 8  1 8 9  Ibid., as quoted by Henry F. Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 257.  1 9 0  British Columbia, Report of the Royal Commission on Education, 264-360.  Vancouver,Sun, 30 December 1960, 1, as cited by F. Henry Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 267. 191  192  "How To Guide Pupils Outlined by Goldring," Globe and Mail, 9 February 1959.  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 15 and 28. See, also, Charles E. Phillips, Public Secondary Education in Canada (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1955). 193  1 9 4  William F. Russell, "Education Can Save Democracy," The Bulletin, April 1950, 65.  195  Ibid.  196  Ibid.  1 9 7  Ibid.  1 9 8  Paul R. Hanna, "The Educational Outlook at Mid-Century," The B.C. Teacher, January 1951, 152.  199  Morgan, "Secondary Education," 123.  2 0 0  Ibid., 40-41.  J.D.M. Griffin, "The Contribution of Child Psychiatry to Mental Hygiene," Canadian Public Health Journal 29 (November 1998), quoted by Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal, 119. 2 0 1  2 0 2  Ibid.  2 0 3  OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects, 1951, 31 -32.  204 Tj)SBA, Toronto Board of Education, Annual Report - The Board of Education for the City of Toronto Reports to the Citizens for the Academic Year, 1960-1961, 13. OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1951-1954; T D S B A , Annual Report, 1960-1961. 2 0 5  C V A , Public School Records, British Columbia, Department of Education, Public Schools of the Province of British Columbia, Seventy-eighth Annual Report, 1949-1949 (Victoria, B C : King's Printer, 1950), 126-127. 2 0 6  207  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 186.  208  Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal, 119.  108  OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1954, 20-22; TDSBA, Annual Report, 1960-1961, 13. 2 1 0  OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1954, 20-24.  Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal, 119-139. Gleason discusses the resistance of teachers to psychologists' demands for them to diagnose their students. 2 1 1  2 1 2  "Psychiatry Costs More At Schools," Toronto Sun, 2 March 1959.  Thomas Fleming and David Conway, "Setting Standards in the West: C.B. Conway, Science and School Reform in British Columbia, 1938-1974," Canadian Journal of Education 21, no.3 (1996): 303-304. The bureau was subsumed in 1947 by a larger Division of Tests, Standards and Research, under the direction of well-known British Columbian administrator C.B. Conway. 2 1 3  2 1 4  C V A , British Columbia, Annual Report, 1955-1956, 143-146.  2 1 5  Mann, " G . M . Weir and H.B. King," 99.  2 1 6  Ibid., 119-120.  2 1 7  Adams, The Trouble with Normal, 42.  2 1 9  Campbell, Curriculum Trends in Canadian Education, 44-46.  220  Ibid., 47.  Timothy J. Stanley, "White Supremacy and the Rhetoric of Educational Indoctrination: a Canadian case study," in Children, Teachers, and Schools In the History of British Columbian, ed. J. Barman, N . Sutherland, and J.D. Wilson (Calgary: Detselig, 1995). 2 2 1  Jose E . Igartua, "What nation, which people? Representations of national identity in EnglishCanadian history textbooks from 1945 to 1970," unpublished paper for CISH 2005, Themed Session, Textbooks: from the Narrative of the Nation to the Narrative of Citizens. Rebecca Coulter argues that textbooks by Donalda Dickie, written for the elementary level and approved for use in both British Columbia and Toronto, may have been an exception to the Anglo-Canadian nationalism of social studies textbooks during the period. For example, Coulter notes that in the 1930s and 40s Dickie produced two primers that featured Aboriginal children as protagonists. See, Donalda J. Dickie and George Dill, Two Little Indians (Toronto: J.M. Dent, 1933); Donald J. Dickie, Joe and Ruth Go To School (Toronto: J.M. Dent, 1940). Rebecca Priegert Coulter, "Getting Things Done," 680-681. 2 2 2  Joy Parr, "Introduction," in A Diversity of Women: Ontario, 1945-1980, edited by Joy Parr (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1995), 5.  2 2 3  Veronica Strong-Boag, "Canada's Wage-Earning Wives and the Construction of the Middle Class, 1945-1960," Journal of Canadian Studies 29, no.3 (1994), 7; Adams, 77je Trouble with Normal, 26. 2 2 4  109  2 2 5  "Girls in Slacks Spark a Furore," The Province, 22 December 1956.  See, for example, Franca Iacovetta, "Recipes for Democracy? Gender, Family, and making Female Citizens in Cold War Canada," in Rethinking Canada: The Promise of Women's History, 4 Edition, ed. V . Strong-Boag, A . Perry and M . Gleason (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). 2 2 6  th  W.E. Blatz, "Your Child - and Sex," Maclean's Magazine, 1 January 1945, 37-39, as cited by Adams, The Trouble with Normal, 75. 2 2 7  2 2 8  Adams, The Trouble with Normal, 2 1 . .  Martin Sable, "George Drew and the rabbis: Religious education and Ontario's public schools," Canadian Jewish Studies 6 (1998): 25-53.  2 2 9  230  Adams, The Trouble with Normal, 41.  Chant, " A Canadian Education," 18; Canadian Youth Commission, Youth Challenges the Educators (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1946). For more on the commission, see, Michael Gauvreau, "The Protracted Birth of the Canadian 'Teenager': Work, Citizenship, and the Canadian Youth Commission, 1943-1955," in Cultures of Citizenship in Post-war Canada, 1940-1955, ed. N . Christie and M . Gauvreau (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2003). 2 3 1  2 3 2  T D S B A , Toronto Board of Education, Board Minutes, 6 January 1950, 138.  233  Ibid:  Hope Commission, Royal Commission on Education, Chapter IV, "Social, Spiritual and Other Aspects of Education" as cited by Edward E. Stewart, The 1955 Status ofRecommendations in the Report of the Royal Commission on Education in Ontario, 1950 (Master's thesis: University of Michigan, 1956), 48-50. See also, Paul Axelrod, "Beyond the Progressive Education Debate," 237; Robert D. Gidney and Wynn P.J. Millar, "The Christian Recessional in Ontario's Public Schools," in Religion and Public Life in Canada: Historical and Contemporary Perspectives, ed. M . Van Die (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001). 2 3 4  Sable, "George Drew and the rabbis." According to the newspaper of the period, the issue gained renewed interest among educators. See, "Should Public Schools Teach Religion?" Globe and Mail, 10 February 1959.  2 3 5  236  Putnam and Weir, Survey of the School System, 53-55.  Moriah Shaw, "Bible Study," Homeroom: British Columbia's History ofEducation Website 2 3 7  During the same period, the provincial government was proposing the assimilation of Doukhobor children as a solution to their passive and violent protests for their own separate schooling. See Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 138-147. 2 3 8  2 3 9  Neatby, A Temperate Dispute, 11-12.  110  2 4 0  " A n Ethical Basis," Vancouver Sun, 30 November 30,1946.  2 4 1  "Can Civilized Living Be Taught?" Vancouver Herald, 9 April 1957.  2 4 2  Ibid.  Philip Deane, "Character, Not Missiles, Is the Challenge," Globe and Mail, 25 January 1958, as cited by Hume and Taylor, Trouble in the School, 173.  2 4 3  J.G. Althouse, Addresses: A Selection of Addresses by the Late ChiefDirector of Education for Ontario, Covering the Years 1936-1956, 63. See, also, J.G. Althouse, Structures and Aims of Canadian Education (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1949).  2 4 4  E.J. Palmer, "Democracy in School Life: Report of the Schools Committee of the Association for Education in Citizenship," The Bulletin, February 1951, 24.  2 4 5  2 4 6  Ibid., 25.  2 4 7  Ibid.  G.E. Flower, "The Larger School Unit in Canada," in Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 1, 1954-1956 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1956), 37.  2 4 8  J.M. Paton, "Democracy's Challenge to Our Schools," in Concern and Competence in Canadian Education: Essays by J.M. Paton, edited by D . A . Maclver (Toronto: Guidance Centre, Faculty of Education, University of Toronto, 1973), 5. 2 4 9  2 5 0  Flower, "The Larger School Unit in Canada," 37.  2 5 1  Paton, "Democracy's Challenge to Our Schools," 6.  2 5 2  Flower, "The Larger School Unit in Canada," 37.  J.F.K. English, "The Reorganized System of Local School Administration in British Columbia," Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 2, 1956-1958 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1959), 44. 2 5 3  T. Fleming and B. Hutton, "School Boards, District Consolidation, and Educational Governance in British Columbia, 1872-1995," Canadian Journal of Educational Administration and Policy, 10 (January 1997): 1-22. The province began experimentation after the delivery of the 1935 Report on School Finance in British Columbia by Dr. Herbert B. King, a Liberal appointed investigator, principal at a Vancouver high school and part-time lecturer at the University of British Columbia. Fleming and Hutton discuss the initial experimentation with district consolidation, when B i l l Plenderleith, inspector of schools for the Peace River region, filed a report to the Department of Education concerning the deplorable conditions of schools in his area and the potential savings of consolidation with bulk purchasing of supplies and the elimination of duplicate administrative services. 2 5 4  Maxwell A . Cameron, Report of the Commission ofInquiry into Educational Finance (Victoria: King's Printer, 1945), 83-87, as quoted by Johnson, A History of Education in British Columbia, 128. 2 5 5  Ill  2 5 6  Ibid., 125-129.  2 5 7  Ibid., 131.  Ibid.; English, "The Reorganized System of Local School Administration in British Columbia,' 41. While most jurisdictions required years of local negotiations, Premier John Hart, and George Weir, his soon to be reinstated Minster of Education, delivered on a promise to fully implement Cameron's report throughout the province upon re-election. 2 5 8  259  English, "The Reorganized System of Local School Administration in British Columbia," 42-44.  260  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 184. See, also, Norman B. Baird, Educational Finance and Administration for Ontario (Toronto: Department of Research, Ontario College of Education, University of Toronto, 1952). 2 6 1  Ibid., 185.  2 6 2  Ibid.  Hope Commission, Report of the Royal Commission on Education, Chapter X and XI; Stevenson, "Developing Public Education in Post-War Canada to 1960," 387. Similarly to British Columbia, Ontario had undertaken initial consolidations from the late 1930s onward.  2 6 3  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 24. One particularly contentious recommendation was restrictions on Roman Catholic schools.  2 6 4  2 6 5  Johnson, A Brief History of Canadian Education, 114-116.  266 -yy -p Newnham and A.S. Nease, The Professional Teacher in Ontario: The Heritage, Responsibilities and Practices (Toronto The Ryerson Press, 1965), 35. The Toronto Metropolitan School Board included both elementary and secondary schools in the city of Toronto, the towns of Leaside and Weston, the villages of Forest Hill and Swansea, the Lake'shore district, and East York, North York, Etobicoke, York, and Scarborough townships. For more information on the creation of metropolitan governance see W.J. McCordic, " A n Experiment in Metropolitan Government," Canadian Education 14, no.2 (1959). Canadian Education was a quarterly publication of the Canadian Education Association. 2 6 7  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 7.  Fleming and Hutton, "School Boards, District Consolidation, and Educational Governance in British Columbia." 2 5 8  2 6 9  English, "The Reorganized System of Local School Administration in British Columbia," 43.  "What We Said," 77J<? B.C. Teacher, December 1959, 132. This was a B C T F Brief to the Royal Commission on Education.  2 7 0  Hope Commission, Report of the Royal Commission on Education, Chapter X and XI; Stevenson, "Developing Public Education in Post-War Canada to 1960," 387.  2 7 1  112  272  Althouse, Addresses, 117-118, as cited by Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 187.  G.E. Flower, "Supervision in School Systems," in Canadian Education Today: A Symposium, ed. J. Katz (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1956), 54-55 and 61. See, also, Eric Williams Ricker, Teachers, Trustees, and Policy: The Politics of Education in Ontario, 1945-1975 (Ph.D diss: University of Toronto, 1981). 2 7 3  2 7 4  Althouse, Addresses, 84. The emphasis is mine.  2 7 5  English, "The Reorganized System of Local School Administration in British Columbia," 44.  2 7 6  Cameron, Report of the Commission of Inquiry into Educational Finance, 87-96.  Province of British Columbia, Manual of School Law, (Victoria: Queen's Printer, 1958), 7, as cited by British Columbia Teachers' Federation, "What We Said," The B.C- Teacher, December 1959, 133; Province of Ontario, Partial List ofActs Pertaining to the Administration of Education in Ontario (Public Schools Act) (Ontario: Baptist Johnston, Printer to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty, 1954), 86-90. 2 7 7  Althouse, Addresses, 148; OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1952, 2-3. 2 7 8  2 7 9  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 156.  W.D. Douglas, "The Principal and Supervision and Inspection," The Bulletin, 31 May 1957, 141; C.W. Booth, "Some Basic Aims and Recent Trends in Secondary Education," Canadian Education 14, no.4 (1959): 46-47. Douglas was a member of the Supervision and Inspection Committee of the OSSTF. 2 8 0  2 8 1  OISE/UT, OHEC, Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1952, 2-3.  G.E. Flower, "The New Principal," Education: A Collection of Essays in Canadian Education, Volume 2, 1956-1958 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1959), 69.  2 8 2  283  Ibid., 71; Flower, "Supervision in School Systems," 56-57.  284  Booth, "Some Basic Aims and Recent Trends in Secondary Education," 44.  2 8 5  Ibid.  Flower, "Supervision in the School System," 56. For examples of supervision concerns in British Columbia: "Editorial - Rating Scales," The B.C. Teacher, December 1947, 87-88; "Teacher Blacklist Charge Under Probe," Vancouver Sun, 28 September 1951; C V A , Public School Records, Minutes of School Principals' Meetings, Loc. 74-A6, "Principal Reports on Teachers: Teacher Absences, and Teacher Exchange to Toronto," February 2 8 8  113  28, 1956. For a more thorough examination of such concern in the Ontario context, see Gaskell, The Problems and Professionalism. 2 8 9  "What We Said," The B.C. Teacher, December 1959, 146.  2 9 0  "Education 1959," The B.C. Teacher, May-June 1959, 389.  2 9 1  Ibid., 84-85.  Allan B . Morrison, "Curriculum Construction," in Canadian Education Today: A Symposium, ed. J. Katz (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1956), 80-81. 2 9 2  2 9 3  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 190.  2 9 4  Ibid., 190.  2 9 5  D . L . Pritchard, "Curriculum Planning in Ontario," The B.C. Teacher, December 1952, 113-114.  2 9 6  Ibid.  2 9 7  Morrison, "Curriculum Construction," 89-90.  2 9 8  Myers, "From Hope to Hall-Dennis," 16.  L.S. Beattie, "Group Planning and Teacher Participation in Curriculum Revision," The Bulletin, June 1951, 120. 2 9 9  3 0 0  Stamp, The Schools of Ontario, 191.  3 0 1  Campbell, Curriculum Trends in Education, 101-107.  3 0 2  Pritchard, "Curriculum Planning in Ontario," 114.  3 0 3  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 253.  3 0 4  "Education 1959," The B.C. Teacher, May-June 1959, 389.  3 0 5  Johnson, A History of Public Education in British Columbia, 253.  3 0 6  Flower, "Supervision in School Systems," 53.  Frank MacKinnon, The Politics of Education: A Study of the Political Administration of the Public Schools (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1960), 3-4. 3 0 7  Ibid., 24-42. He argued that administrators, who had little access to students but still gave orders to teachers about how to instruct them, decreased the profession's autonomy and the ability to recruit 'good' teachers. Large post-war initiatives, notably by the Canadian Education Association in association with the W . K . Kellogg Foundation, to develop leadership in the schools had designated the teacher as relatively unimportant compared to administrators. See, also, Althouse, Addresses, 58. The Canadian Education Association often worked in association with the W . K . Kellogg foundation 3 0 8  114  to improve educational research through workshops and lectures during the period in question. The Foundation was created in 1930 by the United States entrepreneur W . K . Kellogg. Kellogg created the foundation to support philanthropic initiatives that would primarily focus on the education and health of children. 3 0 9  Ibid, 86-87.  Ibid., 87-88. While he acknowledged the need for certain central regulations and administrative duties that might affect teachers' academic freedom, he argued that it should be avoided as much as possible. 3 1 0  3 1 1  Ibid., 8, 82.  3 , 2  OTSE/UT, O H E C , Report on the experimental and newer aspects of schools, 1952, 5.  3 1 3  Chris Crombie, "New Approach to School Problem," Vancouver Sun, 13 September 1950.  T D S B A , Toronto Board of Education, Annual Report, 1960-1961; C V A , Vancouver School Board, Board of School Trustees Annual Report, 1959-1969. 3 1 4  Benjamin Spock, "Preventative Applications for Psychiatry," Merrill-Palmer Quarterly 1 (1955): 7, as quoted by Gleason, 132.  3 1 5  3 1 6  George Roberts, "What Do 'They' Mean?," The Bulletin, October 1950, 189.  3 1 7  George Roberts, "What's Wrong with Our Teachers?" The Bulletin, December 1959, 393.  3 1 8  Ibid., 392-393.  Bryan D. Palmer, Working-Class Experience: Rethinking the History of Canadian Labor, 18001991, Second Edition (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1992), 269.  3 , 9  J.W. Perks, "To What Ends Shall We Teach?," Education: A Collection of Essays on Canadian Education, Volume 1, 1954-1956 (Toronto: W.J. Gage, 1956), 7. 3 2 0  3 2 1  Mann, " G . M . Weir and H.B. King," 115.  /  115  Chapter 3 'Democratic' Knowledge, Teacher Professionalism, and the 'Female' Weak L i n k  The professional standards set for post-war teachers implied that any committed and properly trained individual could further democracy. The growing body o f feminist research into education and democracy has refuted such easy connections, arguing that liberal discourse, such as that in post-war education circles, marginalizes egalitarian principles o f professionalism.  322  Political theorist Diana Coole explains that reason is the idealized crux  o f liberal democratic thought. It endows the holder with political power to participate i n Western democracy. In European philosophical tradition and political theory, only man can possess reason. Western thought, Coole argues, continues to assert gendered hierarchies o f knowledge and citizenship, "mind over body, culture over nature, reason over emotion, order over chaos," within which the feminine is a metaphor for the lesser terms.  323  The  knowledge-bearing, rational, and autonomous subject is conflated with dominant notions o f masculinity, and the feminine 'other' conflated with subjectivity and emotionality. Women are, as Lorene M . G . Clark suggests, i n the 'ontological basement' o f political life and the democratic state.  324  Carole Pateman's work on the 'fraternal pact' in the public sphere  stresses that liberal discourse positions women far removed from the disembodied and reasonable citizen, symbolized through the freedom-fighter male soldier. Ironically enough, given assumptions regarding women's supposed lesser capacity for violence, they are conceptualized as a threat to social order.  325  Within this essentialist binary, only men can  objectively transcend personal interests to legitimately participate i n and uphold orderly, public politics.  116  A t least i n theoretical terms, the ability to reproduce or teach curriculum productive o f civilized democratic citizens is predicated upon this gender dualism. This is Jo-Anne Dillabough's primary point as she explores how Enlightenment concepts have re-emerged in the modern narratives o f teachers and diminished the view o f women as professionals.  326  She argues that contemporary British educational discourses present 'neutral' representations o f teachers in which women are free and equal to men i n their capacity for independent educational practice within a liberal democracy. Simultaneously, however, governing authorities deem seemingly 'feminine' characteristics o f personal reflexivity, authenticity, and sociability as ineffectual. A 'good' teacher becomes a technician o f state-determined standardized outputs, not a socially-engaged critical reformer. Dominant masculinist models o f autonomous and politically detached subjects denote success. Drawing on the work o f Valerie Walkerdine and Helen Lucey, Dillabough notes "it is still the bourgeois male teacher or student who is honoured with the title o f 'rational being' i n the purest sense.. .women teachers and female students cannot possess knowledge i n their own right because they are viewed as moral vessels through which liberal democracy and the rational society are 327  cultivated."  The structure o f both teaching and professionalism has located women  teachers as symbolic o f the private sphere, unable to fulfill the rational ideal for liberal democratic citizenship. A t the same time, women teachers, positioned as mothers i n the school and as guardians o f the nation, must support the very democratic principles that underlie their inferiority to men teachers.  328  The result, Dillabough suggests, "leads to  women's exclusion from the formal language o f teacher professionalism, yet simultaneously defines their inclusion on the basis o f female subordination."  329  Most feminist scholars o f women teachers' identity formation, like Dillabough, have examined the relationship between knowledge production and gender social construction 117  through a contemporary lens. W i t h the notable exception o f Walkerdine and Lucey, few have explored the historical evolution o f this relationship. The contractions between the ideals o f knowledge production and the gendered codes o f professionalism can readily be detected in post-WWII Toronto and Vancouver. Canada and its democratic schools required instructors who gained and transmitted 'expert' knowledge to technical, vocational and academically streamed students. Teachers were to be instrumental actors for 'democratic' state goals. This meant, as outlined earlier in this thesis, producing technologically literate workers for capitalist accumulation and citizens with higher-order rationality for Western supremacy. This orientation came at the expense o f a broadening 'democratic' purpose for developing students' unique strengths. It also readily disadvantaged socially engaged, reflexive teachers. This chapter demonstrates how women teachers, like students who were sorted i n the new 'democratic' curriculum that devalued non-academic streams, were classified as gendered i n their capacity for academic/rational knowledge. Most progressive and traditional teacher educators did not correlate secondary teachers' competency with 'feminine' capabilities, such as an effective connection with children or appreciation o f learning theories. Rather, in the era o f the space race and faith in scientific expertise, teachers were evaluated according to technical functionalism, measurable student achievement and objective standards o f practice that took masculinist advantage for 330  granted.  Women teachers in Vancouver and Toronto were confronted by educators, from  politicians to federation representatives, who affirmed that men were natural scholars and thus more committed to academic qualifications as professionals. W o m e n teachers, who flooded schools in response to post-war staff shortages, were routinely counted as less qualified, less capable and less committed. Women, with their assumed primary obligation 118  to the home, could not fulfill the intellectual and technical ideal for 'democratic' citizenship. Yet, ironically enough, they were to be its handmaidens in ushering in the new post-war world. This chapter also moves significantly beyond those feminist political and social theorists who concentrate on women's exclusion from 'democratic' life. It examines the responses o f women teachers themselves to their contradictory inclusion as 'professionals' in 331  schools.  H o w did they define their identity given the gender dualism? D i d women  teachers capture a sense o f professionalism by embracing their perceived private sphere capabilities, despite its weak status, or did they take up dominant masculine forms o f competence to achieve professional autonomy?  332  D o their narratives question these  distinctions? Without the experiential understandings o f the women teachers themselves, the gender dualism o f teacher professionalism within liberal 'democratic' discourse remains at best abstract and at worst universal. Their oral histories, introduced i n the first section o f this chapter, reveal that the majority o f women attempted to cast their teaching selves as rational, knowledge-bearing professionals. The following section demonstrates the ways women's grip on such an identity was made tenuous by education administrators and women's own various social locations.  A D I S E M B O D I E D ' R A T I O N A L ' IDENTITY  In the course o f interviews, teachers revealed that they understood they worked during a period i n which there was increased public faith, and corresponding government actions, for schools to contribute to the progress o f the West. W i t h burgeoning ambitions but limited resources, post-war citizens relied upon teachers to meet the challenge o f the nuclear age.  119  School officials needed instructors who could act on these hopes. J . G . Althouse, the Chief Director o f Education for Ontario, and Dean from 1934 to 1944 o f the Ontario College o f Education ( O C E ) , responded to worries about schools' capacity to take on the task o f modern democracy and voiced a commonplace dilemma: "the rising tide that demands special treatment for every child is hard to square with the insistence for raising 333 standards."  Other critics went further.  Learned Profession?"  334  Hilda Neatby posed the question: "Is Teaching a  A teacher training manual used i n Ontario during the latter part o f  the post-war period, written by W . T . Newnham and A . S . Nease, similarly asked "Is 335 Teaching a Profession?"  Although these two administrators answered in the affirmative,  the reduction i n qualifications for teaching, even as teachers' responsibilities for 'democratic' security grew, was greeted with uneasiness.  336  Teachers' federations across the country supplied thorough in-depth analyses o f what it meant to be a 'good' teacher for educational 'democracy.' Both progressive and traditional commentators writing in the B C T F and O S S T F newsletters agreed that 'good' classroom instructors had to defend democracy b y nourishing intelligence in youth, thereby preparing them for employment. Teachers were not to instruct 'the subject or the child,' the typical paradigm for these learning theories, but were to know their subject i n sufficient depth, to translate specialized knowledge, and instill a desire for intellectual development i n youth. Historian Rebecca Coulter argues that progressive educator Donalda Dickie, a recognized leader i n teacher-education who authored the textbook The Enterprise in Theory and Practice, believed in teaching based on child-centered instruction and the mastering o f knowledge and skills.  In the later stages o f her career, Dickie retracted her sole adherence  to the progressive-oriented 'project method' for democratic instruction, because students "leave school without ever having read a complete, connected history o f their country." r 120  338  W h i l e debates continued regarding the best methods for achieving such ends, namely a progressive emphasis on experience-based learning or traditional teacher-directed instruction, substantial agreement existed about the need for professional training and the qualities o f a 'good' teacher. This commonplace consensus was revealed in a 1959 article on the definition o f the professional teacher. The author, F . J . McNamara, a senior teacher i n Sault Ste. Marie and regular contributor to the O S S T F Bulletin, explained: "we w i l l discover that what we admire in modern pedagogy is in many ways but a rediscovery o f Christian tradition."  W h i l e he  may have underestimated the differences i n educational theory, he reflected the widespread agreement that competency was based on the association between expertise and service to the community. These qualities were outlined more specifically i n an accompanying article by J.L. Ord, Superintendent o f Schools for Ontario's Windsor District. In "The Qualities o f a Good Teacher," he pointed to a person's feeling for teaching, their interest i n understanding children, and serving students' educational needs. Equally important was sound scholarship and a thorough knowledge o f subjects.  340  These two qualities were  echoed by a prominent British Columbian educator, Edgar Dale, i n an A p r i l article that same year. In The B. C. Teacher, he presented the professional teacher as an "an efficient learner" who had "mastered the subject matter o f his own f i e l d . " ^  1  Dale argued, moreover, that  intellectual goals were only effective with teachers who could communicate to boys and girls from a diversity o f backgrounds. H e further insisted: "Our democratic tradition o f universal education was fought for by public-minded citizens.. .he [the teacher] must see himself as a person i n the public service, dedicated to helping others build a freely communicating, inclusive society."  "^49  121  Professionalism was commonly presented as relatively apolitical. It simply meant garnering the natural respect o f the community as 'experts' who would elevate the raw material o f youth into precious human resources for the nation. Specific qualifications for professionalism often sounded innocuous. Newnham and Nease assumed that teaching was a typical profession i n requiring university education, professional training, and recognition by the p u b l i c .  343  Conservative Neatby pointed similarly to public recognition, an ethical  code o f moral integrity, and skills i n teaching practice.  344  The implication was that potential  teachers, like their students, had every chance to obtain the knowledge necessary for proficiency. Underlying these seemingly gender-neutral concepts o f competency, however, was a hierarchy o f knowledge that subordinated the caring, communicative teacher to those deemed intellectual 'craftsman.' The intellectual part o f teaching was continuously stressed by post-war commentators. McNamara, who asserted himself as a centralist in the progressive and traditional debate, made this especially clear when he discussed the need for teachers to understand not only the 'gifted' but the ' s l o w ' student. In his assessment, however, it was "much easier for the bright teacher to develop such understanding than for the stupid or mediocre teacher to become bright."  345  Neville Scarfe, Dean o f the University o f British  Columbia's Faculty o f Education and self-proclaimed progressive, actually warned that affective teaching could create gullible and undiscerning citizens. In "The A i m s o f Education in a Free Society," for the Second Canadian Conference on Education in March o f 1962, Scarfe compared learning to scientific research, within which the teacher's job was to mentally train students for clear logical thinking, thereby decreasing students' "susceptibility to emotional persuasion  and subtle propaganda."  346  For Scarfe, a teacher's ability was  judged first and foremost by the development o f rational powers in students. O f course, in  122  democratic fashion, he was not simply reserving rationality for university-bound students: "Thinking is in no sense restricted to academic subject-matter... M u s i c and vocational subjects may engage the rational powers o f pupils equally s o . "  347  K e n Argue, Scarfe's more  traditional colleague in educational philosophy, was crude i n his prioritization o f a teacher's personal aptitude for working and relating to youth. Quoted i n the March 1953 issue o f Maclean's,  Argue stated: " M a n y people think that as long as you love children you can  teach.. .Dogs love children."  These educators signaled that teachers' 'natural' creative  and communication ability were not learned skills for professional expertise. Rather, intellectualism was the prized commodity with observable outcomes, which fitted well with a renewed emphasis in Vancouver and Toronto secondary schools on streaming students based on intelligence testing, implementing government-developed external and standardized tests, and having faith i n science-based 'experts.' The narratives o f the women i n both cities reflected this rather 'taken-for-granted' conception o f post-war professionalism. When referring to their colleagues or role-models, the majority o f women plainly referred to them as 'good' teachers. It was difficult to tease out more, as the definition seemed self-evident to them. W h e n asked what exactly a 'good' teacher was during the late 1940s and '50s, Donna Weber, who taught i n Vancouver secondary schools,-answered: "Someone who knew the subject...who could put it across in a way that the student could enjoy it and take it i n , learn something, change their behaviour."  349  Donna's general, third person response was typical. She and the other  teachers were acknowledging the basic dual function for them o f knowledge expertise and communication with students that was established by teacher representatives and political officials. A t the same time, however, the women recognized the different value put on professional scholarship and supposed natural sympathies. Catharine Darby, also o f  123  Vancouver, argued that a 'good' teacher was one who was "interested i n kids," but she summed up the best teachers as " a l l scholars."  Catherine asserted that "anyone who didn't  fit into that category [scholar] soon drifted away - they went elsewhere." Phoebe M c K e n z i e o f Toronto echoed these sentiments. M u c h like school officials o f the period, she contended that teachers guaranteed school order, respect and control not so much by sympathy as by respect. Phoebe M c K e n z i e believed that teachers were perceived as caring when "there was order in a classroom and there was going to be respect.. .the b i g thing was to get your [students'] schoolwork done and get them to university."  351  These women recognized that ?  professional autonomy and authority was predicated upon rational 'expertise'; a quality that could garner respect b y setting teachers apart from parents, critics and even many political administrators. When the women were asked i f or how they perceived themselves as 'good' teachers, their rapport with youth seemed secondary. In a rare statement, A b i g a i l Sears o f Vancouver commented: "I had a good relationship with students and therefore I didn't have any great problem."  Most o f the interviewees called upon dominant masculinist conceptions o f  teacher professionalism, namely as disengaged scholars and technicians for student achievement, to define their successful careers. A scholar or 'expert' identity was perhaps the strongest theme that characterized women's narratives from both cities. For most women with university backgrounds, which accounted for seventeen o f the twenty interviewees, their liberal arts background was central to teaching. They often discounted  t the significance o f their teacher training as "how to" and "boring."  In contrast, they  provided detailed and energized accounts o f their undergraduate and/or graduate courses and the scholars from which they learned their subject areas. Compared to the easily passed year at O C E , Karen Phillips, a teacher i n Toronto, recalled her undergraduate degree in languages 124  V during the 1940s as "...unrealistically heavy... a high degree o f breakdowns and people dropping out because o f the pressures o f the course." Although difficult, she referred to her professors as "inspiring, brilliant, and famous." Despite her unusual qualification o f a doctorate i n English, Karen's heavy emphasis on academic work versus professional training was far from unique. Women without graduate degrees, and i n less academic subjects, still asserted the centrality o f their university training. Vancouver's Catharine Darby recounted her academic success i n home economics in the late 1930s and early '40s as really being a triumph i n science, involving quite a few courses in conjunction with the medical school, still an uncommon practice for women at the time. Her science knowledge lay at the heart o f her effectiveness: "When you get into dyes there is a tremendous amount o f chemistry involved. When you get into baking a cake .. .there is physics's no wonder it is a science field." Other women did not dwell upon academic backgrounds, despite their university training, but they nevertheless asserted 'expertise' in their teaching area. This was particularly the case for the physical education teachers, most o f who interviewed for this study taught for the Vancouver Board. Sophie Canning, for example, spoke extensively about her athletics background in the 1940s playing for championship sports teams and, i n fact, working as a professional athlete to pay for university, as the basis o f her teaching proficiency. Obtaining her first job had nothing to do with her teacher training or her ability to interact with youth generally. Rather, she stated: "I started at 14 on a senior women's team so I was on a championship team and so they wanted a good athlete - that's how I got the j o b . "  354  Sophie's was one o f a number o f narratives i n which specialized knowledge and the expectations o f post-war education officials strongly correlated. Demonstrating 'expert'  125  knowledge, regardless o f practical experience and specific teacher training, seemed to provide many women with access and promotion to what they deemed the 'best' employment opportunities. Karen Phillips, an English and language teacher, made this clear as she described her first job interview for a collegiate institute in the Toronto area in the mid-1940s. A l o n g with asking about "what church you belonged to," what the male administrators mostly cared about was "your academic standing, realizing the importance o f being on top o f your subject." In fact, some women credited their superior academic performances as essential for urban employment. Rural schools, with their smaller budgets, likely attendance problems, were almost always less desirable.  355  The interviewees, like the broader education  community, credited city situations with superior standards, greater possibilities for promotion, and higher salaries. Teaching i n centres such as Vancouver and Toronto was often deemed a privilege for the strongest 'experts' in each field. June West, who taught English and was the only one in Toronto who also instructed physical education, affirmed this i n observing, "It was very difficult to get jobs particularly in the city so most o f m y classmates had to get jobs out o f town... Barrie, Alliston, you name it. But with higher grades I got a job at [a Toronto school] just starting."  Cecilia Reynolds' study on  becoming a teacher during this period supports June's memory. Reynolds shows that hiring practices i n the 1940s, often based on personal connections, meant that women were placed in multi-grade, rural schools i n which they were the junior staff member with a male manager.  357  In contrast, men may gain some experience i n rural areas but were typically ifo  given their smaller school to alone teach and manage. M a n y women i n the study, particularly those in Vancouver, had to start careers i n quite isolated regions o f their province. They asserted that it was their superior subject  126  knowledge that eventually got them not only a job i n the city, but employment in the best 'academic schools,' promotions to teach senior grades, and even appointments to typically male held positions as head o f department.  Sadie Chow stated that she did not get a  position in the city initially because "first o f all I am Oriental and they would only take the top t e n . "  360  Chow, the only visible minority woman i n the study and actually one o f the first  Chinese women to teach at the secondary level i n Vancouver, argued she forced school officials to see her ethnicity as a non-issue by proving she was an expert i n home economics. A s a result, she believed that she obtained a position at one o f the best city schools and later became a department head at a different secondary school. In Toronto, M u r i e l Fraser acknowledged that it was critical for her to have attended the University o f Sorbonne to study French in the late 1940s in order to be recognized as an "expert" in French, to access the "serious French students," and become head o f the languages department. W o m e n implied that they needed to go 'above and beyond' what was expected o f their male peers, which at that point was a university degree, plus one-year training at a College o f Education. These requirements were often waived to find enough teachers, especially for rural areas, but formal teacher preparation and higher credentials were increasingly becoming the requirement.  361  W o m e n teachers portrayed their accomplishments as part o f a seemingly normal process o f building credentials and climbing the professional ladder. They constructed narratives as 'normal' professionals working within the bureaucratic system, much as technical experts for standardized outputs. Perhaps Phoebe's earlier reference is most telling. She defined teacher competency as control and discipline for high examination results and the production o f university-bound students. British Columbia's women teachers made a similar case. Their oral histories were characterized by language o f efficiency and  127  productivity as they explained how they got observable, concrete results for their work as 'experts.' A l m a Erickson, a teacher in math and science, claimed that her school had a reputation for 'good' teachers because the staff was a disciplined cadre o f professionals. She defined 'discipline' i n this way: " W e l l you taught the material and you got good results from your students and later in the year when they wanted a good course and they were going on to University they wanted to enroll i n your classes."  362  These results were not just expected  from the traditional academic courses that A l m a taught. Donna Weber expressed similar expectations o f her physical education students. She stated: "I was considered to be a good teacher. I didn't have any discipline problems.. .1 also just followed the system that was there...It was a very academic school." Stories of'successful' secondary school graduates supplied the dominant theme i n women's narratives. W h i l e discussing her pedagogy i n teaching French, Beth Merle noted: "I have a former student who is a Ph.D. in French and has developed this programme and her father sent me a brochure...she can get them [students] used to hearing different voices for the language."  363  For Beth, this former pupil's accomplishments confirmed the  professionalism o f her mentorship.  Similarly, M u r i e l Fraser focused the interview on her  successful graduates that used French and German i n their careers: "One needed it [bilingualism].. .ended up at one point being the President o f Y o r k University." The same narrative typified the memory o f Grace Logan, a Latin teacher in one o f the only specifically designated schools for technical students i n Vancouver. She was specific i n making the case that: "everyone had the wrong impression about Tech . . . Tech was meant really to train for technical jobs but they found that i f they took a language and English until their grade twelve they could get into university ... a lot o f them d i d . "  128  3 6 4  Through stories o f their  former pupils, women teachers demonstrated that they had in fact produced leaders for their communities. Despite teaching i n vocational, general and academic streams, few spoke o f students other than the university-bound. Furthermore, the interviewees rarely discussed classes as a whole, or students that they personally helped from 'slipping through the cracks' o f the system. The women did not discuss 'failures' i n their classes, even when directly questioned. They seemed to assume not only that post-WWII secondary schools were more accessible, but that in practice educational 'democracy' was 'sink or s w i m ' for their students and themselves. Failures indicated a failure o f their abilities as teachers, without the recognition o f external factors to student success. Ironically, it was almost as i f their memories o f the most 'successful' students ultimately kept the women themselves from 'slipping through the cracks' o f educational 'democracy.' If their interviews were any guide, their relationship to star graduates made these teachers successful. Few teachers alluded to patriotic inspiration or the ideal of'democratic' superiority for desiring the status o f rational, knowledge-bearing professionals. They sought to express professional competency, even as they acknowledged women's precarious standing, by describing their careers within a survival theme. The women repeatedly used defensive language to suggest a lack o f respect b y educational officials.  Phoebe M c K e n z i e , a teacher  in one o f Toronto's collegiate institutes, repeatedly returned to this theme: "There was strain •> s c  on me. I knew I had to prove myself again."  In Phoebe's case, the strain to prove she was  a 'good' teacher was directly related to her marriage. Phoebe had many interruptions i n her career i n the late 1940s and 50s as a result o f getting married and having children. She typically deferred to her husband's "very successful" secondary teaching career. Although not dealing with the tensions o f marriage and motherhood, like Phoebe, M u r i e l Fraser 129  described her career as "managing to survive." A t the same time, she noted being passed over for promotion to head o f the French department because a male colleague wanted the position and he was a 'family man' who had served i n the war. Abigail Sears, a physical education teacher, appropriately selected the metaphor o f a "game" for her post-war teaching career. In her experience, playing that game meant fighting for resources and respect from her male colleagues. The game was the potentially damaging value system of'democratic' knowledge that produced particular gender dynamics for women teachers in the post-war period. Women, as mothers, nurturers and social creatures, were viewed by the school community as unable to acquire and transmit 'rational' knowledge. The 'secondary' status o f seemingly 'rudimentary' and 'naturally' abilities, like sociability, reflexivity, and subjectivity, is troubling in itself. O f particular concern is how school officials positioned women i n association with these 'inferior' qualities, and thus as second-class professionals for the functioning o f educational 'democracy.' Women were presented with the dilemma o f balancing their 'feminine' subjectivities, constructed as inappropriate for the profession, and emulating 'masculine' attributes, considered unacceptable for women at that t i m e .  366  Not surprising most o f the  women constructed their oral histories through stories o f emotional detachment, similarly noted i n E m m a R i c h ' s study as "a utilitarian approach to teaching, with less emphasis on responding to students' needs or the processes o f learning, and more emphasis on learning 367  outcomes and control."  Such a unitary, singular picture o f the professional self was a  seemingly irrefutable self-defense against any accusation that women were not capable o f setting aside 'feminine' qualities o f emotionality and sociability to produce rational, democratic citizens for the strength o f the nation. Such defense was ultimately, however, quite fragile in the eyes o f most contemporary educational authorities who questioned 130  women's grasp on 'democratic' knowledge necessary for professionalism. Women's narratives, however, challenge liberal democratic rhetoric that conveys women's personal inadequacies, rather than their social positioning, as the 'weak link' for post-war professionalism. The women interviewed were proud o f their accomplishments.  W O M E N T E A C H E R S ' PROFESSIONALISM AS PROBLEMATIC  Despite their faith i n their academic prowess, women teachers had to confront the common distinction educators o f the era made between teacher training for the secondary level, dominated by men, and the elementary level, dominated by women. Superior occupational status was denoted for the secondary level, because o f its relative focus on the academic stream or university-bound students. This status was most often constructed by post-war school officials as simply an issue o f higher credentials, with secondary teachers holding university degrees. A closer reading o f teacher educators' perceptions o f the qualities o f female-dominated elementary teaching, however, reveals that such distinctions were based on the pervasive conception o f a gendered rationality for teacher proficiency; secondary women thus had to deny guilt by 'female' association. In both Vancouver and Toronto, women accounted for approximately 30 percent o f secondary teachers and 80 percent o f 368  elementary teachers.  L i k e the comprehensive schools o f the post-war period, educators  implemented a change to the structure o f teacher training that was intended to bring equality o f opportunity for elementary and secondary teacher training within one setting, that being the university. While this move created an appearance o f improved opportunity for all teacher candidates, the result was sustained differentiation o f the offerings and assessment o f these programs. 131  M i l t o n LaZerte was a leading proponent o f the establishment o f faculties o f Education across Canada that would encompass teaching training 'under-one-roof.' A Professor Emeritus at the University o f Alberta, Dean o f Education at the University o f Winnipeg, and the expert to whom most educators turned when discussing the criteria for teacher professionalism in the 1940s and '50s, LaZerte stood out among many teacher educators o f the period who insisted that the lower qualifications for elementary training, and thus for mostly female teachers, needed to be addressed to increase the publics' waning trust i n the knowledge o f its educators. Most notable was his 1949 report for the Canadian Education Association ( C E A ) on ways to improve the status o f teaching, thoughts he extrapolated upon i n his 1950 Quance lectures, Teacher Education in Canada, at the University o f Saskatchewan.  He argued that membership ethics and commitment had to  be instilled for teachers to be recognized as professionals. M o r e importantly, teachers needed an adequate university-based training that provided them with a body o f technical knowledge, from which they should act as scientific researchers i n their subject fields. U s i n g the language o f economic efficiency, LaZerte fought for mandatory degree requirements for both secondary and primary instructors. Those without university training, notably, o f course, women i n the elementary sector who qualified through Normal Schools, lowered professional standards since: "The public judges a profession by the lowest not by the highest qualifications."  370  LaZerte saw his demands partially fulfilled i n 1956 when the Faculty o f Education at the University o f British Columbia opened with Neville V . Scarfe as D e a n .  371  The Normal  School, the Summer School o f Education and the School o f Education at the University were subsumed into this new Faculty. British Columbia, in conjunction with Alberta, was seen as a leader i n raising the standards and status o f teachers generally and o f elementary teachers  132  in particular.  Elementary teachers could receive a Bachelor o f Arts or Education degree  after four years, but were permitted to teach after one year o f university credits. The same year i n Ontario, Normal Schools were renamed Teachers' Colleges i n an effort to raise the prestige o f the elementary level. It was not until 1974, however, just before these Colleges were absorbed by university-banded Faculties o f Education, that elementary training obtained degree-granting privileges.  373  L i k e the post-war comprehensive school, however,  teachers' colleges continued to distinguish elementary and secondary training programs, with few cross-over course options or instructors. They remained much the same as before re-organization, with the universities gaining little control over teacher certification. This stayed in the hands o f each province's Department o f Education. The continuity o f distinct elementary and secondary programs, inclusive o f the devaluation o f the former, is conveyed i n the description by George A . Hickman, Dean o f the Faculty o f Education at Memorial University i n Newfoundland. The 'new' teacher programs were separated by grade levels, which he categorized as general and professional streams.  374  Professional education, according to Hickman, was specialized training that  embraced preparation in academic areas. Here he speaks o f a teacher's expertise, clarity and logic to become "a reasonably intelligent member o f a staff which concerns itself with the reconstruction and administration o f the curriculum o f the school; an understanding o f the principles governing classroom organization, management and c o n t r o l . "  375  H i c k m a n made  clear that it was the secondary level, dominated by male teachers, to which specialization applied, " . . .for it is obvious that a broad general education is better for the elementary 376  school teacher."  The general education i n Canadian teacher training centres included,  according to Hickman, the development o f knowledge and skills that should be the common possession o f all citizens o f a democratic society, such as personal growth and responsible 133  citizenship. A s he outlined, general education prepared elementary teachers to cultivate the social, not public and professional, elements o f education. H i s words envisioned a housewife for the nation: "They [general educators/elementary teachers] are concerned with the natural world i n which man makes his home, with the social world o f which he is a responsible part, and with the personal world within which man discovers himself. They contribute to the student's capacity to function well ... as a member o f a f a m i l y . "  377  Hickman's language makes clear that secondary teachers were functional and public actors for intelligent citizenship, whereas elementary teachers were preparing for the role o f nurturing mother. For the women o f this study, LaZerte and Hickman represented not simply the perceived domesticated credentials o f the elementary level, but an assessment o f women's general teaching abilities as inferior, 'common,' and 'unskilled.' The stigmatizing effects o f such dismissal were evident in the oral histories. This was especially visible for those women who were trained and often held their first positions i n the elementary division. For some, elementary training happened within Normal Schools, prior to consolidation, but again this differed little from later university-based programs. Normal School or the shorter elementary training at university was a far more affordable option, especially for women, who earned less than men, and whose families were less likely to consider them life-long wage-earners. It was also considered by the public and educational administrators to be a more 'natural' fit for women's motherly qualities. O f the twenty women in this sample, four attended Normal School, three were without a university degree before teacher training. These women taught i n Vancouver. The regional difference may simply be the limited sample. One survey o f the era suggested British Columbia secondary schools had the highest percentage o f degree-bearing teachers than any other p r o v i n c e .  134  378  While the report  does not cite how many o f these were women, the authors o f the survey do make the correlation between British Columbia having the highest proportion o f men teachers with the high percentage o f credentials. The regional difference may also lie with the more academic bias o f Toronto collegiate institutes. For a secondary school to obtain the title o f collegiate institute, it had to have more than five members on staff with specialist certification that could not be obtained without a university degree.  379  Not unexpectedly, the Vancouver women who had trained for elementary schooling often understood themselves as 'less professional' in the eyes o f colleagues and administrators. Claire Anderson, a physical education instructor, did not identify herself nor speak in the first person when discussing the admirable qualities o f teachers during the postwar period. She asserted that almost all o f the people i n her schools were professionals, •J O A  "except me, they had their degrees and I mean how can you double that?"  J0U  Claire  described her abilities, which she explained as not justifying an assessment as professional, as her love o f children: "I just wanted each k i d to have an experience o f happiness with one another and sharing." Claire was among the many women who acknowledged the differential values accorded to academic and caring professionalism. Sophie Canning, who had received a Bachelor o f Physical Education from the University o f British Columbia, but also trained at Normal School, offered a similar reflection. She stopped a line o f questioning about her education and said: "I want to say two things, I was never smart but I was always energetic." Throughout the interview, she described herself as unconcerned about her professional status. What really mattered most to her was the respect she earned as a disciplinarian, and as someone who cared enough to find out about her students. She was one o f the few to speak at length about a student's personal needs, recounting a story i n which she replaced shoes stolen from one o f her students. Sophie actually credited her 135  elementary training for this response, "because the high school were a cold sort...become pompous I guess." Such a caricature appeared not to trouble those women purely trained for high school employment. They often perpetuated the association o f elementary teaching with mothering, firmly disassociating themselves from this while distinguishing themselves as stalwart professionals. Their focus on students' scholastic achievement matched the primary purpose o f the secondary school. Beth  Merle o f  Toronto explained that her choice between  elementary and secondary teaching was easy: "I didn't want a class o f little kids i n front o f me. If I was going to do French it had to be secondary."  381  Fran Thompson, a specialist i n  English, stated: "I wanted to teach history . . . all high school teachers probably had the same thing; they loved their subject... never occurred to them that they had to know anything about their students."  Fran and Beth's university credentials and location within  traditional academic areas afforded them a better chance to disassociate themselves from the standing o f 'caring professional.' W h i l e at times they expressed enjoyment about interactions with students, they purposefully set their mastery o f subject matter i n direct opposition to the values o f nurturing youth that were allied with 'female' elementary instructors. Some were self-conscious about the distinction they drew. Grace Logan, a Latin teacher in British Columbia, recalled the well-known stigma when she described being "horrified" when an inspector came to watch one o f her lessons during a mandatory one week elementary practicum: " . . . he said to me had you ever thought o f continuing i n elementary education and I thought, he doesn't think I can do secondary . . . I was really, really quite disappointed . . . I never considered elementary." The necessity for these women to discriminate signaled opinions that had much less to do with the elementary sector per se, than perceptions o f the 'female' teacher i n the post136  war period. This becomes clearer considering that female staff i n secondary schools were similarly constructed as less professionally competent and under-qualified. In particular, educators leveled suspicion on women who entered to address vacancies left by servicemen during W W I I and the growing teacher shortage in the late 1940s and '50s. According to a February 1946 survey b y the Canada and Newfoundland Education Association, predecessor to the C E A , there were over 4,000 too few qualified teachers.  383  In 1952 the total shortage  was estimated at 6,556, with increases to the decade's end. Teacher supply represented a national emergency, declared F.S. Rivers, Superintendent o f Professional Training in Ontario, and R . W . B . Jackson, Professor at the Ontario College o f Education ( O C E ) , in their report for the journal o f the C E A . In Ontario the situation was most acute i n rural areas and at the elementary level, but urban secondary schools also needed 200 more teachers annually within the decade than universities were expected to produce.  384  F . Henry Johnson, co-ordinator for teacher education for the British  Columbia Department o f Education at the time, told local newspapers that the province would be short 750 secondary school teachers by 1 9 5 6 .  385  Rivers and Jackson concluded  that population change caused the shortfall. They predicted a near doubling o f enrolment for 1(1/  all levels o f schooling across the country from 1945 to 1960.  The post-war baby boom  occupied elementary classes, while secondary school increases were spurred by immigration and a general demand for higher education. Most provinces, including Ontario and British Columbia, adopted emergency, temporary measures to address the shortage. M a n y responses continued wartime policies, and were i n place when the women interviewed here obtained their first teaching positions. Responses included the consolidation o f schools and renaming teachers' colleges. M o r e ambivalent initiatives included lowering entrance requirements for higher education and 137  shortening teacher training. Ontario and British Columbia Departments o f Education resorted to issuing a large number o f temporary certificates or Letters o f Permission, requiring only one year training after grade 13 and two short summer courses for those entering elementary schools, and similar crash summer courses and reduced practice teaching after a baccalaureate for secondary candidate.  In 1947, British Columbia  officials reported over 129 teachers i n the junior/high school level on temporary 388  certificates.  In Ontario, one i n thirteen secondary teachers enrolled i n summer courses  when they were first offered at the O C E in 1954-55.  389  Provinces also initiated recruitment  campaigns b y way o f radio broadcasts, newspaper columns, booklets, and posters. W h i l e new candidates were sought, palliative measures were advertised to encourage the return o f trained and experienced teachers who had retired or left teaching for other reasons, notably marriage or motherhood.  390  According to W i l l i a m Dunlop, Minister o f Education for  Ontario, these strategies were effective. In 1952, he spread the good news that "by emergency measures, it has been possible to prepare, during the year, a sufficient number o f teachers to ensure that no school was closed for lack o f a teacher."  W h i l e the situation  was not quite as rosy for British Columbia, particularly in the interior regions where schools were closed due to staff shortages, the Vancouver Board announced that temporary certification and teachers coming from the prairies and eastern Canada had solved the problem.  392  W o m e n answered officials' calls for more teachers. Women's rates o f participation, specifically older women who were married, grew during W W I I as they temporarily filled in for military personnel. A t their peak, women accounted for over 70 percent o f the teaching force. W h i l e their rates o f employment dropped to pre-war levels at the end o f W W I I , the shortage o f teachers allowed women's employment to reach near war-time rates by the m i d 138  1950s.  393  Toronto Board o f Education Year Book statistics i n 1954 show that 271 o f the 754  secondary school teachers were women and 51 o f that number were m a r r i e d . produced similar statistics: 246 o f 755 secondary teachers, 68 married.  394  Vancouver  Given the  numerous and incommensurate levels o f certification for the two provinces during this period, it is difficult to ascertain the numbers who held temporary or under-qualified certification for the secondary level. One B C T F study on the specific qualifications o f married women teachers conducted early in the period and based on wartime emergency measures, similar to post-war initiatives, concluded that approximately 40 percent possessed 'second-rate' qualifications and were teaching only until necessity no longer dictated.  396  School officials nevertheless relied upon women's flexible labour and supported policy shifts and specific programs to entice them into the workforce. For example, i n 1954, British Columbia's Department o f Education began Future Teachers' Clubs in high schools.  Although policy did not allocate these clubs by gender, Vancouver secondary  schools' yearbooks show all-female clubs.  Departments in both provinces embarked on  teacher recruitment drives overseas, typically hiring women for pre-specified boards and under an assisted immigration scheme, who would otherwise be unable to afford such travel. Lastly, both Vancouver and Toronto Boards recruited women who had left the profession due to marriage. Toronto officials used the newspapers to recruit married teachers throughout the 1950s. Z . S . Phimister, Superintendent and Chief Inspector o f Schools, reported to The Globe and Mail that the Toronto Board would even lessen mandatory maternity leave for those "young women teachers supporting their husbands who are attending medical school or theological c o l l e g e . "  399  Officials i n British Columbia extolled  the virtues o f married women, by announcing i n their newsletter that without bringing them "back to the profession, even though they have been absent o f years.. .there is no doubt that  139  chaos would have existed."  Sheila L . Cavanagh argues that policies enticing married  women into the profession cannot be purely seen as a triumph against gender discrimination.  401  Instead, women o f the 'marrying' variety or who were married were hired  as symbols o f society's heteronormativity. I explore this point in more detail i n the chapter to follow on 'democratic' values o f the era. Broader policies supported recruitment endeavours for women teachers, and specifically the 'marrying-kind.' In 1944, Vancouver women who married after placement in a school gained 'security o f tenure,' and for Toronto women, an official bar to married women was lifted i n 1 9 4 6 .  402  Women were often still expected to leave their jobs once  pregnant. Furthermore, i n 1951 the Ontario Teachers' Federation created a single salary schedule to base pay on qualifications, not gender. This policy was enacted i n conjunction with the province's 1952 Female Employees' Fair Remuneration A c t . Due to the leadership o f Hilda Cryderman and M o l l i e Cunningham i n its executive, the B C T F adopted this policy in 1954; one year after it was enacted b y the newly elected W . A . C . Bennett Social Credit government.  403  The B C T F had encouraged boards as early as the mid-1940s to remove overt  sex differences, and most complied, with Vancouver reported as one o f the last to hold out.  404  Wage discrimination also continued as the majority o f women teachers could not  secure higher paying administrative positions i n these c i t i e s .  405  British Columbia statistics  show that women's pay was approximately 56 percent o f men's in 1945. Although the disparity would drop, a 23 percent differential remained i n 1954-55.  406  Post-war inducements enticed back four married interviewees who taught i n Vancouver. A b i g a i l Sears remembered that originally after getting married "you knew you were out." She continued teaching because o f "an order i n council in Victoria for me to be permitted to teach because I was married.. .the principal went to bat for me." A b i g a i l only  140  stayed six more months until she was pregnant with her first child. W h i l e most women did not refer to explicit policies, such as permits, they did remember pressure-filled requests to return to the teaching force from influential local administrators. Sadie Chow was adamant that after the birth o f each child she was not going to teach. Each time, however, she recalled a "phone campaign" from the Vancouver Board's home economics co-ordinator insisting that she come back to school. Sadie was convinced by this co-ordinator who stated "with your mind, you'd just sit home and vegetate.. .you know your children don't have the quantity o f time with you but I am sure they have the quality because you always take them everywhere." Sadie's recollection indicates that while the barrier to married women working may have lessened, mothers still needed to justify their presence. In explaining her decision, Sadie insisted she was a reluctant participant, always found good child-care, and did not seek out the position. Her desire to rationalize returning to work is understandable given five o f the seven teachers with offspring in this study described confrontations with male colleagues. A b i g a i l , for example, recalled a personal male friend encouraging her to send a teaching application after she had left teaching for her fourth child. After a long time without a response, A b i g a i l followed up by telephone. The male friend informed her at that point that "mother o f children should not be working; they should be i n the home." After A l m a Erickson returned to teaching she remembered with some laughter that male teachers assumed she was inexperienced and treated her like a beginner. She described one man, a novice himself, having the nerve to tell her she should not be teaching since she was married with children. Although teachers' federation representatives, political officials and educational administrators i n both Vancouver and Toronto encouraged women's participation i n the public system, the women's stories indicate that they encountered intense scrutiny.  141  Similarly, political representatives asserted that the emergency programs they established, and to which women responded, produced minimally acceptable teachers for Canadian education. Herbert Edgar Smith, Dean o f the Faculty o f Education at the University o f Alberta until 1955 and frequent contributor to professional journals, stated: " B y hopeful definition they are temporary measures, devious i n detail, and all to be deplored...but Departments o f Education have to face an electoral demand that classrooms be kept open and at least some kind o f teacher provided for t h e m . "  407  Smith was correct that measures  were temporary. When the shortage abated i n the mid-1960s, British Columbia and Ontario Departments o f Education scaled back teaching permits and elevated requirements for teacher training.  408  The problem for these school officials was that emergency programs  supplied recruits, but did not relieve public concerns about professional standards. Temporary measures were viewed by many educators, particularly federation representatives, as exacerbating an on-going problem that afflicted the profession. Researchers asserted that a shortage was not simply the result o f an increased student population. The problem resided with individuals, particularly men, choosing either not to enter or to leave teaching. M a n y researchers and political officials stressed that the shortage was due to the profession's lack o f prestige.  409  B y implication, those teachers, primarily  women, who were obtaining positions at the secondary level i n increasingly larger numbers during the period, were 'second-best' additions to a profession that could not retain or recruit men. Given this context, some women's stories were marked b y moments o f embarrassment.  Such emotion was poignant for M a r i o n Hayes, a Toronto collegiate  institute teacher in history and English. Despite a degree in hand, she reluctantly, and i n hushed tones, admitted that she did not take the regular one-year O C E course, but was one o f  142  the teachers who worked while taking two summer sessions. She whispered: "I'm actually one of the few people and not many of my friends know about this.. .I'm one who did it in the summer. They needed more teachers and there was a twelve week course and then about five weeks to follow it up."  410  Marion may have been unusual among the Hog Town group.  Three Vancouver women disclosed either taking crash summer courses or receiving temporary certification prior to formal training. These teachers described themselves as at the mercy of administrators who sent them to remote locations with extremely bad working conditions. Even more, their positions were not secure and their certification was nonrenewable without the personal recommendation of their local board or inspectors. When speaking of her first teaching post in a mining town in 1949, British Columbia's Sadie Chow explained that she was "granted an elementary temporary teaching certificate for one year.. .it was the lowest form.. .if you looked at the conditions you wouldn't want to renew it." She went onto say that she wished for a husband to take her away from such a workforce. Claire Anderson painted a much happier picture of her early rural positions. At the same time, she noted that atop male administrator at her Normal School simply told her where she was needed and she went. The result was two rather isolated schools, and then a technical school outside of Vancouver, all of which were described as being 'problem' locations and at which she was not initially given her subject area to teach. Although these women were filling teaching positions at a time when the 'democratization' of schooling opportunities relied on their labour, they did not count on appropriate praise or compensation. These stories reveal that women's inferior status was not simply a matter of qualifications, but reflected women's position as part a flexible, reserve army of labour for the public education system. Many male administrators in fact questioned the motives of  143  female careerists, claiming that their 'natural' inclination was and should be full-time marriage and motherhood. J.D. Aikenhead, professor o f education at the University o f Alberta in Calgary and a specialist i n school administration, undertook national research on why individuals entered or returned to the profession. H e argued that opportunities were open for women interested i n Canada's survival to improve the learning o f children and youth i n their communities. Aikenhead acknowledged that "more women than men had returned" to teaching.  411  H e asserted that women's reasons, however, reflected simply a  public extension o f their propensity for private nurturing. They entered the system, he contended, not for a steady wage, but due to their "fondness for children, a liking for colleagues, and a desire to serve society."  412  Aikenhead reassured public officials that  women were not planning to become a permanent presence i n secondary schools: they did not view teaching either as a living wage or a career i n the same way as men. H i s incorrect assumption, based on the middle-class, nuclear family ideal o f the period, was that all women desired marriage and support by breadwinning husbands. Intellectualism or career goals were not contemplated as reasons for women's place i n the post-war secondary school. Within this study, however, over half o f the women interviewed did not marry and many provided financial support to parents. O f those who did marry, some spoke o f financial necessity due to husbands' illness or loss o f business.  413  Regardless o f economic  necessity, many women simply viewed teaching as one o f the only accessible avenues o f work i n which they could apply their education. When asked i f she knew before entering university that she wanted to be a teacher, Beverley Hurst stated: "Education was important. I was good at languages and there weren't that many things you could do i n that day and age. I wasn't going to be a nurse and I didn't think I wanted to be a secretary particularly . . . teaching was a good thing to do with m y courses."  144  414  Others spoke o f teaching as a long  term career option, because they could continue to work while married. Melanie Kilburn explained entering teaching, instead o f medicine i n which she was most interested, knowing that her long years o f undergraduate school would not go to waste when she married. She explained: "It was either you had a career that would fit in with marriage and children or i f you were going to go through this long training then you would always be full time [as a mother]. N o w how did that fit in?" Most officials ignored such women's desires for remuneration and service. The recruitment o f men, however, was viewed more realistically. Aikenhead, for example, argued that men were not becoming teachers because o f a lack o f prestige, "slow promotions, few well-paid top positions, and low salaries."  415  Freelance journalist M a x  Braithwaite voiced his opinion that "the really alarming fact is that the average male teacher stays in the profession only eight years."  416  Improved salaries were perhaps the most  common recruitment measure. Percy M u i r , secretary o f the Ontario School Trustees Council, told the Canadian School Trustees' Association: " W e get a large number o f capable women teachers but we are not getting the men. A n appropriate salary for a single girl is not adequate for a man and family. But there's not much we can do about it. The law says we must pay an equal salary to w o m e n . "  417  Salaries did steadily increase after the war. Pay for  secondary school teachers i n Ontario doubled from 1945 to 1960, and had improved substantially in western provinces.  418  George Roberts, past president o f the O S S T F and  O T F , argued that salaries were getting so much better that teaching was competing for men's employment with the field o f engineering. H e optimistically stated: "In 1958 Toronto hired some 40 university engineering graduates, gave them summer courses in pedagogy and sent them into high schools."  419  In this instance, crash courses i n teach training were not  problematic. This different assessment occurred for the same reason that the Toronto branch  145  o f the O S S T F campaigning against a uniform salary payment for elementary and secondary teachers, regardless o f sex; men as breadwinners were priorities in the public institution o f the school and thus had a right to a higher salary.  420  The male president o f the Toronto  branch was cited i n the September 25, 1952, issue o f the Telegram as objecting because i secondary school teachers were losing their right to bargain independently o f the lessprestigious women-dominated elementary affiliates.  421  W h i l e the same kind o f campaign  would not be made by the B C T F , perhaps as a result o f a strong female presence on their executive, that province's male administrators made similar comments about the preference and rightful place o f men in secondary schools. Women acknowledged that they were expected to step aside i n deference to men. A l m a Erickson o f Vancouver got her first job teaching because o f the war; she then lost it when servicemen returned. She said: "they [school officials] figured they [women] should be released to let men have the jobs so that's that." A l m a explained that she worked happily for years as a substitute secondary teacher until her husband became seriously i l l and she had to support their family. A l m a , like many women, accepted men's priority as a moral imperative given their status as soldiers and breadwinners. This was certainly the rationale for M u r i e l Fraser o f Toronto who passed on a promotion so that a married man would receive advancement. M u r i e l recounted: "there was a chance to go to [a Toronto secondary school] and again I turned it down because there was a fellow i n the French department who was married with a family and I knew that i f I didn't take it, he would get it." M u r i e l ' s narrative is particularly revealing because she saw no contradiction i n her belief that married men were entitled to career advancements, while both her parents were financially dependent on her throughout much o f the 1950s. Nonetheless, her story expressed what was rarely  146  openly spoken b y the interviewees; men fulfilled the ideals o f the 'good' teacher and women had to show they were up to the tasks. O f course, few officials during this era o f popular egalitarianism explicitly declared for public consumption that it was men who were preferred for secondary schools, and not simply those teachers with the best credentials. In a rare, revealing statement, Charles Ovans, general secretary for the B C T F in the 1950s, admitted: "Given a choice i n anything above primary grades, a school w i l l take a man to a w o m a n . "  422  School officials asserted  that men were collectively more attractive because they obtained more advanced degrees and dominated the seemingly more 'intellectually' rigorous subjects o f mathematics and science that were in high demand during the period. M e n , therefore, could provide rationally sound instruction for youth to become professional leaders for the nation's secure and prosperous 'democratic' future, i n which science, as i n the space race, would be critical. Women, i n contrast, were framed by educational discourse as unable to fulfill this primary 'democratic' objective. A s a result, they were vulnerable to accusations o f undermining teacher professionalism and the public's faith i n schooling. Officials and others feared, or perhaps hoped, that female 'propensities' for home and motherhood as a primary obligation encouraged reduced commitment to the world outside the home, notably the noble vocation o f teaching. This is particularly evident i n information available from British Columbia and Ontario teacher's federations.  They expressed concerns to their membership and the public  through newspaper columns that women were 'unethical,' 'unfair' and 'unprofessional'; comments that struck at the heart o f an occupation that was valued for its fulfillment o f educational 'democracy.' The O T F , created b y The Teaching Profession A c t o f 1944 amalgamating all existing teacher associations under an umbrella organization as a means o f raising the overall status  147  o f the profession feared the influence o f female recruits.  Although policies, like short  summer courses, the lack o f unified contracts, and low salaries were discussed for lowering the prestige o f teachers, it was women, single and working before marriage, married, and mothers, who were regularly identified as the weak link i n the quest for professional recognition.  424  Such beliefs were not restricted to male members o f the O S S T F . Eileen  Gladman, female Chairman [sic] o f the O T F ' s Relations and Discipline Committee, pinpointed the problem as women's inability to separate personal and public interests. In an article published in the M a y 1959 issue o f The Bulletin, she explained: " M a n y times, too, a woman teacher accepts without question the idea that family responsibilities o f any kind come before the fulfillment o f the contract she has entered into as a teacher. Whatever may be the motive let us stress the ethical and professional importance."  425  Contemporary historian Sandra Gaskell provides the most extensive examination o f women's supposed offences. W o m e n were incriminated as undedicated because o f the general belief that teaching was not a career for them, but, rather, a short job between school and marriage.  426  They were simply working for luxuries, unlike male teachers who  considered family breadwinners. Regarded as transient workers, federations accused them o f willingness to accept positions outside o f union contracts and, most abhorrently, o f underbidding men for positions by accepting reduced money or benefits.  427  W i t h such  allegations on hand, many men i n the federation readily dismissed their female colleagues, 49 R  with little interest obtaining greater pensions or administrative positions. Throughout the late 1940s and '50s the B C T F made similar complaints. In a February 1955 column entitled "Some Ethical Considerations," appearing that same month in the local paper, the editor o f The B. C. Teacher appealed on behalf o f the federation to "all married women teachers, and to single teachers about to be married, to be considerate and 148  fair."  The article began by extolling the 'democratic' changes to the education system  since the Depression years regarding married women, to the point that school boards admit married women are among their very best teachers. The editor noted that despite demonstrating a professional outlook comparable to single women, these same school boards now had complaints. In particular, school boards were "fed up" with women abusing leaves of absences to be married in the middle of term and accepting positions knowing they were pregnant and would have to be replaced.  430  He was not alone in his reservations. According  to Vancouver School Board committee reports and other regular newsletter columns on the subject of women teacher, male inspectors, superintendents, and principals were appalled that women might teach to earn 'pocket' money until marriage, take time off for unsanctioned domestic reasons, and shirk their extra-curricular duties and other special assignment for work at h o m e .  431  The marrying woman, who had been newly 'welcomed'  into the school, was now under surveillance for not being able to let go of her domesticity for professional life. The editorial warned that unless women dealt with these issues fairly "they will not only be acting unprofessionally as individuals but they will be creating a condition which will tempt school boards to return to policies against the employment of married women teachers."  432  Another column was even more stern, warning about the  federation's position: without written consent from administrators before taking leave for marriage, women were in breach o f the Code of Ethics and would be brought before the Executive to be "severely dealt with."  433  While few women faced dismissal as a result of  these indictments, it is clear that federations in both provinces defined women, and not society's sexist view of women's role or women's limited opportunities within educational 'democracy,' as the culprit in retarding the status of the profession.  149  Not surprisingly, no interviewee acknowledged accusations o f unethical professional practice on their part or on the part o f their female colleagues. A number insisted, however, that women were often more ethical than their male counterparts. They referred to men as "cheaters" when they attained superior results to women teachers from their students. Donna Weber, who taught physical education in Vancouver, noted that men were successful coaches at her school because the "boys were taught to cheat," what she deemed as fouling in order to w i n the game. Her philosophy was that " i f you couldn't stop them properly without breaking the rules then you didn't deserve to w i n the game." A l m a Erickson, also o f Vancouver, repeatedly spoke o f men who were determined to do better and cheated b y "practically teaching the exam." She argued that the male head o f department would often set the exam so his students got the best results. K n o w i n g that her students were 'bright,' she insisted that examinations be set for all classes. W h i l e these stories target male teachers' unethical actions, they also solidify these women's ethical competency as teachers in this era. Women's relative silence, as noted previously, on most discussions o f their association with 'feminine' attributes, such as motherhood, nurturing and emotionality, may also signal their defense against accusations that they could not put personal interests aside for their work. O n the rare occasion that interviewees did voluntarily and directly speak to the issue o f care-giving for their students, the women actually spoke o f such actions in unethical or inappropriate terms. When asked as a physical education teacher i f she had a counselling role for students, Jessie Russell responded: "no I didn't, but some teachers did... .1 didn't get into that because it's wrong.. .1 was the teacher, they're the student, I ' m not your counsellor or your mother that you're gonna come to and talk to me about your boyfriend."  434  Jessie continued by noting a fellow teacher who often had students i n her  150  office to talk, which she found objectionable. Similarly, Ellen Stewart recalled students acknowledging her effective teaching because she kept an appropriate distance. The students talking about another teacher had mentioned to Ellen about "how awful it was that there were high school teachers who forged this close personal relationship and how very damaging it w a s . "  435  Grace Logan o f Vancouver, at one point in her interview, suggested  that her classroom worked "beautifully" because "when you came into m y room it's like you're coming into m y home." When following up on her metaphor o f a home, Grace immediately retracted her previous description and stated that the school was not a family environment and she was not nurturing o f the students. Rather, she asserted, this type o f environment was "proper ... a great disciplinary feature." For Sophie Canning, the gendered sanctions associated with 'feminine' capabilities or an emotional attachment to students had a more ominous implication. Sophie is a lesbian who was not out during this period in her life. She states: "I would not tolerate it; [homosexuality] was a terrible word." Sophie would not tolerate discussion o f her sexuality because society was intolerant. She recognized that i f her sexuality was revealed, then she would have been fired from her job teaching physical education to girls. She recounted a story, at length, regarding a female student who "idolized" her and invited her to come with her family for an outing one weekend. Sophie refused the girl's offer and explained to her that she was only her teacher Monday to Friday. She recalled: "her [the student's] face fell but that.. .you know it was times like that I was lucky that I was able to keep it that way and you know what I mean.. .you had to watch that nothing got affectionate."  Sophie's oral  history enables a clearer understanding not only o f women's abilities to call upon a distanced professional image, but the implication o f losing their appearance as that sort o f 'good' teacher. For Sophie it was a necessity for her very livelihood. Still more than the other  151  teachers here, she felt confined b y codes o f heterosexuality that emphasized difference and women's problematic professionalism. Her narrative, similar to the other women's oral histories, was rife with professional landmines that resulted from assumptions regarding her 'naturally' nurturing femininity and illogical capabilities for knowledge production.  The response o f these women to inferior positioning within post-war educational 'democracy' demonstrates that there were no ready, simple solutions for their equality. A s E m m a R i c h reflects from her work on women in England's teacher training programs for physical education: "there is no simple materiality, no correct behaviour which these women can unequivocally achieve."  436  She remarks: "Their inclusion in their profession is  contradictory, b y mere virtue o f the fact that as women they remain subordinates i n a dominant Gender Order which underpins the dominant educational discourses."  437  Illuminating the struggling professional portrait o f women teachers i n post-war education, therefore, is not to suggest that women did not attain or lacked the attributes o f the 'good' teacher. Rather their narratives illustrate the discursive and practical means by which they made sense o f their teaching selves. Caught in an essentialist double bind o f professionalism equating to dominant masculinity, the women's narratives marked the apprehensions they experienced in fulfilling post-war objectives emulating and producing the rational 'democratic' citizen. Throughout the interviews the women spoke o f their need to prove they had a place within the public secondary school system as professionals; a status allotted more easily to men by virtue o f their sex. Their identity as professional teachers was less tenuous, according to the women, i f they presented themselves as detached, knowledgeable scholars who could produce intellectual leaders o f the nation. Given women's various educational backgrounds, teaching subjects and social locations, their narratives do not reify  152  an essentialist binary of professionalism. Rather, the women teachers were positioned both by themselves and by school officials across uncomfortable gender differences. The image of teacher as subject expert and thus rational citizen was much easier to construct for women who were single, with advanced university degrees, and who taught in academic-oriented subjects and regions. For other women teachers, the grip on a scholarly identity and professional recognition was even more tenuous, as they acknowledged holding an inferior position in teaching due to such factors as motherhood, elementary training and the type of school setting. While the women's narratives demonstrate that they were unable to completely resist or alter masculinist conceptions of the modern teacher, they nonetheless asserted their ability to embody professionalism. Each maintained that a great teacher could be a woman of sound scholarship. The women admitted their struggles, however, in gaining recognition as 'good' teachers: they were handicapped by the competing and multiple frameworks that identified them personally, socially and occupationally as less professional. Their narratives of post-war Canada provide proof of the contention of feminist political and social theorists that liberal democratic discourse offers professional autonomy in seemingly androgynous form, while perpetuating a gender dualism that restricts women teachers' access and 'capability' for professional and 'democratic' knowledge. Yet if women were precluded from equality with men, they might offer something different. The following chapter addresses, as feminist theorists of teacher identity have argued, the role for women teachers as moral vessels for a democratic order, rather than knowledge-bearers for democratic citizenship.  153  See, for example, Arnot and Dillabough, "Feminist Politics and Democratic Values i n Education"; Walkerdine and Lucey, Democracy in the Kitchen; Madeleine Arnot, Reproducing Gender: Essays on educational theory and feminist politics (London: Routledge, 2002); Kathleen Weiler, Women Teaching for Change (South Hadley, M A : Bergin & Garvey, 1988). 3 2 2  Diana Coole, Women in Political Theory: from ancient misogyny to contemporary (Hertfordshire: Hearvester, Wheatsheaf: 1993), 18.  3 2 3  feminism  Lorene M . G . Clark, "The rights o f women: the theory and practice o f the ideology o f male supremacy," i n Contemporary Issues in Political Philosophy, ed. W . R . Shea and J.King-Farlow (New Y o r k : Science History Publication, 1976), as cited by Dillabough, "Gender, Politics and Conceptions o f the M o d e r n Teacher," 377.  3 2 4  3 2 5  Pateman, The Sexual Contract; Pateman, The disorder of women.  3 2 6  Dillabough, "Gender, Politics and Conceptions o f the M o d e r n Teacher," 373-394.  3 2 7  Ibid., 380. See Walkerdine and Lucey, Democracy  in the Kitchen, 200.  Kathleen Casey, "Teacher as mother: curriculum theorizing i n the life histories o f contemporary women teachers," Cambridge Journal of Education 20 (1990): 301-320. 3 2 8  3 2 9  Dillabough, "Gender, Politics and Conceptions o f the M o d e r n Teacher," 381.  Ibid., 375. Dillabough expresses similar qualities when exploring the masculinist conception o f the modern teacher. 3 3 0  Ibid., 379. Dillabough calls on historians to examine the contradictory position o f women teachers' inclusion i n the teaching profession. 3 3 1  A l i s o n Weir, Sacrificial Logics: feminist theory and the critique of identity (New Y o r k : Routledge, 1997), 66. 3 3 2  3 3 3  Althouse, Addresses, 61.  3 3 4  Neatby, A Temperate Dispute, 53-73.  335  N e w n h a m and Nease, The Professional  336  Ibid., 8; Neatby, A Temperate Dispute,  Teacher in Ontario, 8. 54-59.  Coulter, "Getting Things Done," 686. See Donalda J. D i c k i e , The Enterprise Practice (Toronto: W . J . Gage, 1940). 3 3 7  in Theory and  Donalda J. D i c k i e , The Great Adventure: An Illustrated History of Canada for Young Canadians (Toronto: J . M . Dent, 1950), as quoted by Coulter, "Getting Things Done," 689. F o r more information on the development and strands o f progressive movement i n Alberta, see, R . S . Patterson, "Progressive Education: Impetus to Educational Change i n Alberta and Saskatchewan," i n Education in Canada: An Interpretation, ed. E . B . Titley and P.J. M i l l e r (Calgary: Detselig, 1982), 169-192; 3 3 8  154  Amy von Heyking, "Selling Progressive Education to Albertans, 1935-1953," Historical Studies in Education 10, no.l and 2 (1998): 67-84. 3 3 9  F.J. McNamara, "Teaching: The Unique Profession," The Bulletin, September 1959, 242.  3 4 0  J.L. Ord, "The Qualities of a Good Teacher," The Bulletin, September 1959, 199-200 and 238.  341  Edgar Dale, "The Education of Teachers," The B.C. Teacher, April 1959, 249-350.  Dale, "The Education of Teachers," 350. Even though women comprised three-quarters of the teaching force across Canada, the generic teacher was always referred to with the male pronoun. See Reynolds, "Hegemony and Hierarchy," 114. She noted that in 1951 women were 73 percent and men were 28 percent of the teaching workforce in the country. This would change by 1971 when women were 66 percent and men 34 percent. 3 4 2  3 4 3  Newnham and Nease, The Professional Teacher in Ontario, 8.  3 4 4  Neatby, A Temperate Dispute, 54-59.  3 4 5  McNamara, "Teaching: A Unique Profession," 241.  Neville Scarfe, "The Aims of Education in a Free Society," The Second Canadian Conference on Education: A Report, ed. F.W. Price (Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 1962), 69. The emphasis is mine. 3 4 6  3 4 7  Ibid., 71.  3 4 8  Sidney Katz, "Part 1 - The Teachers," Maclean's Magazine, 1 March 1953, 9.  Interview with Donna Weber (pseudonym), conducted on May 22 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. 3 4 9  Interview with Catharine Darby (pseudonym), conducted on May 19 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. 3 5 0  Interview with Phoebe McKenzie (pseudonym), conducted on November 16 2001 in Toronto, Ontario. 3 5 1  Interview with Abigail Sears (pseudonym), conducted on May 17 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. 3 5 2  Interview with Karen Phillips (pseudonym), conducted on November 26 2001 in Toronto, Ontario; Interview with Melanie Kilburn (pseudonym), conducted on January 21 2002 in Toronto, Ontario. 3 5 3  Interview with Sophie Canning (pseudonym), conducted on September 17 2005 on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.  3 5 4  3 5 5  Gidney, From Hope to Harris, 11; Gaskell, The Problems and Professionalism, 60.  155  356  Interview with June West (pseudonym), conducted on December 7 2001 in Toronto, Ontario.  357  Reynolds, "Hegemony and Hierarchy," 106-107.  358  Ibid.  Similar stories were told by Toronto interviewees. See, for example, Interview with Muriel Fraser (pseudonym), conducted on December 1 2001 in Toronto, Ontario; Interview with Karen Phillips; Interview with Elizabeth MacKay (pseudonym), conducted on November 14 2001 in Toronto, Ontario. 359  Interview with Sadie Chow (pseudonym), conducted on September 16 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. 360  Reynolds, "Hegemony and Hierarchy," 103. See, also, H.E. Smith, "Teacher Training," in Canadian Education Today: A Symposium, ed. J. Katz (Toronto: McGraw-Hill, 1956); Newnham and Nease, The Professional Teacher in Ontario, 38-59. They speak to the specific paths to certification for all levels of teachers in Ontario; Johnson, A History ofPublic Education in British Columbia, 209-223. He outlines the certification requirements for British Columbia teachers. 361  Interview with Alma Erickson (pseudonym), conducted on September 15 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. 362  363  Interview with Beth Merle (pseudonym), conducted on November 23 2001 in Toronto, Ontario.  364  Interview with Grace Logan (pseudonym), conducted on September 19 2005 in Vancouver, British Columbia. Sheila L. Cavanagh argues that the 'official' elimination of the marriage bar in the mid-1940s was not necessarily a 'triumph' for women teachers. They still encountered school officials' imposition of 'traditional' family values. I explore this issue in more detail in chapter four. See Sheila L. Cavanagh, "The Heterosexualization of the Ontario Woman Teacher in the Postwar Period." 365  Sandra Acker, Gendered Education: sociologi