5.15-7.00, in 1WN 3.8,
Tuesday 22nd and Thursday 24th April 2008
After we have caught
up with each others news and responded to any writings, ideas, books and
articles you would like to share, I'd like to focus on some ideas about a
narrative approach to your educational enquiries and other writings.
A fundamental
assumption I've been making in my tutoring on the masters programme is that we are
either already expressing the embodied knowledge of a master or doctor educator
and/or are developing this knowledge through our educational enquiries into
improving our educational practices. I am thinking here of our educational
enquiries into improving our educational influences in our own learning, in the
learning of our pupils and others and in the learning of the social formations
in which we live and work.
Another assumption is
that through educational enquiries of the kind, 'How do I improve what I am
doing?' we can contribute to enhancements in our educational influences in our
own learning, the learning of our pupils, students and others and in the social
formations in which we live and work. When I use the word 'practice' I am using
it in the sense of what a person is doing as in the above question. I am not
using it in the sense that a practice arises in response to the general demands
of a societal need. I am not using practice as a historically developed and
conditioned tradition of action for addressed a societally-formed need.
Through conversations with my colleague Seth Chaiklin
I have come to understand that this is one way in which 'practice' is
conceptualised within a cultural-historical theoretical tradition. When I use
practice I am not referring to a conceptual abstraction. I am referring to what
is being done in enquiries of the kind, 'How do I improve what I am doing?' I
am particularly interested in the educational influences of our professional
practices as educators and in our explanations of these influences in our
research narratives.
My reason for focusing
on narrative research and enquiry is because I think your stories of your
educational influences can make original and significant contributions to the
knowledge-base of education and have a transformatory
influence in the growth of your educational knowledge and that of your
pupils/students.
As you know, my
educational research programme since 1973 has focused on the generation and
testing of educational theories. I put forward the idea that each one of us can
create our own living educational theory as an explanation for our educational
influences in our own learning, in the learning of others and in the learning
of social formations. I put forward this idea of living educational theory
(Whitehead, 1989) to distinguish the explanations individuals produce for their
educational influences from the explanations derived from the abstract and
propositional theories of disciplines of education such as the philosophy,
psychology, history, sociology, economics, politics and theology of
education. I want to be clear
about this distinction. I am
claiming that if you generate your own living educational theory in enquiries
of the kind, 'How do I improve my practice?' then your explanations will be
distinguishable from the explanations derived from any general theory and will
be not reducible to such explanations. I am claiming that your explanations of your educational
influence may draw insights from the most advanced social and other theories of
the day, but will not be reducible to their general explanations. This claim is
open for us to question.
I like the way that Clandinin and Rosiek (2007)
distinguish the explanations of narrative inquiry in terms of individual lived
experience. I like the way they contrast these with explanations from
explanations that privilege the macrosocial material
conditions of life as the primary influence on human life and thinking. Here is
a quote from Clandinin and Rosiek
that I want us to study both to see if we understand their meanings and to see
if their ideas have an educational influence in our own meanings:
"Although it may seem extremely abstract,
understanding the ontological as opposed to epistemological starting point of
Marxist-influenced social theory is necessary for understanding the style and
content of this scholarship as well as its relationship with narrative inquiry.
A mode of inquiry founded in epistemological commitments – such as
positivism – takes accurate description of the world as its primary
objective. Epistemic principles, in this case, determine the way the accuracy
of research conclusions will be assessed. A mode of inquiry founded in
ontological commitments – such as Marxism or critical theory –
takes transformation of those ontological conditions as its primary objective.
For the Marxist influenced scholar, research and analysis is an intervention that
seeks to change the material conditions that underlie oppressive social
conditions.
As remarked on earlier, narrative inquiry
shares with Marxism an explicit grounding in
ontological commitments as well as the goal of generating scholarship that
transforms the ontological conditions of living. The difference
between the two traditions of inquiry are located in the specifics of
those commitments and their conceptions of intervention. Scholarship grounded
in Marxism privileges the macrosocial material conditions
of life as the primary influence on human life and thinking. The relational
texture of everyday life, including the personal, religious, historical and
cultural narratives that provide meaning to that life, are treated as
derivative of the macrosocial conditions of life.
Furthermore, these narratives are frequently considered obstacles to be
overcome on the way to a more realistic understanding of the causes of human
experience.
The narrative inquirer, by way of contrast,
privileges individual lived experience as a source of insights useful not only
to the person himself or herself but also to the wider field of social science
scholarship generally. As described in the comparison to post-positivism, this
approach to analyzing human experience is grounded in a pragmatic relational
ontology. It takes the immediacy of lived experiences, specially
its narrative qualities, as a fundamental reality to be examined and acted on.
According to this view, all representations of experience – including
representations of the macrosocial influences on that
experience – ultimately arise from first-person lived experience and need
to find their warrant in their influence on that experience." (Clandindin and Rosiek, 2007, pp. 49-50)
Part of my reason for
highlighting the importance of the Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping a
Methodology (Clandinin,
2007) is that I think that it will help to develop an understanding of the
methodology each one of us is creating in the course of our enquiries and that it
can help us to show how we are making:
"... critical use
of literature, professional experience and, where appropriate, knowledge from
other sources, to inform the focus and methodology of the study or enquiry." (An
MA unit criterion used in the University of Bath)
In the 2007-8 e-seminar of the British
Educational Research Association Practitioner-Researcher Special Interest Group
one of the participants asked the question:
How
do I break free from the traditional scholarship model as a Ph.D. student?
The question evoked some of the most
appreciative and engaged responses of the e-seminar. I think it was because
participants felt like me. I felt the questioner inviting me into me into an
enquiry that really mattered to the questioner and resonated with my own
interests.
I know that I have stressed the importance of
asking good questions in your educational enquiries. Chapter Five of
Collingwood's Autobiography on Question and Answer (published in 1939) is one
of the most influential texts I've read. I continue to be influenced by his
insight:
Whether a given proposition is true or false, significant or meaningless, depends on what question it was meant to answer; and any one who wishes to know whether a given proposition is true or false, significant or meaningless, must first find out what question is was meant to answer (Collingwood, 1991, p. 39)
This is why I place an emphasis on asking good questions. It is why I'm impressed with the quality of the questions/issues you are asking, researching and answering in your 'My/I' enquiries such as:
How have my experiences of Year 2 SAT's influenced my perceptions of
assessment in teaching and learning?
Working within the framework of 'Personalised
Learning' how can I ensure there is a real learning space for my pupils, where
they feel involved in what they learn and how they learn it?
An educational response to how my
involvement with the Gifted and Talented programme
initiated by Bath and North east Somerset has made me re-assess my living
values and beliefs, thus influencing my delivery and provision for the SEBD
students with whom I work.
How can I enhance the eductional influence of my pupils
in their own learning, that of other pupils, myself and the school?
How do I sustain a loving, receptively responsive
educational relationship with my pupils which will
motivate them in their learning and encourage me in my teaching?
In
telling your stories as educational enquiries I'm wondering if you might find
helpful ideas from Michael Watts' (2008) writings on Narrative Research, Narrative Capital and Narrative Capability. In
contrast to mapping a methodology of narrative inquiry, Watts focuses on life
history as having the potential to be 'an ideal methodology of resistance'. In
engaging with the ideas of Watt's and liking his ideas of narrative research
and narrative capability I want to be careful not to give the impression that I
am accepting a social science view of educational research. I am thinking
particularly of the idea proposed by Whitty (2005)
for clarifying a distinction between education research and educational
research that brings educational research as a 'narrower field of work' within
education research:
One
way of handling the distinction might be to use the terms 'education research'
and 'educational research' more carefully. In this paper, I have so far used
the broad term education research to characterise the
whole field, but it may be that within that field we should reserve the term
educational research for work that is consciously geared towards improving
policy and practice..... One problem with this
distinction between 'education research' as the broad term and 'educational
research' as the narrower field of work specifically geared to the improvement
of policy and practice is that it would mean that BERA, as the British
Educational Research Association would have to change its name or be seen as
only involved with the latter. So trying to make the distinction clearer would
also involve BERA in a re-branding exercise which may
not necessarily bet the best way of spending our time and resources. But it is
at least worth considering. (Whitty,
2005, p. 172-173)
What I shall do as I engage with the ideas of Watts in the quotations below, is to show how a living educational theory (McNiff, 2007) can be generated through narrative. I shall show how living theory can be generated with insights from disciplines of education, such as the sociology of education, without being seen as the 'narrower field of work' or indeed as being defined as a form of social science research.
You will see that Watts refers to the work of Amartya Sen, a nobel prize winning economist. Given the influence that economics has on education and on what is possible in terms of resources within a given social formation, I do think that it is important to recognize the importance of our understandings of these influences in our living educational theories.
Here is how Sen
(1999) distinguishes his economic theory of human capability from an economic theory of human
capital:
"... what, we may ask, is the connection between
"human capital" orientation and the emphasis on "human
capability" with which this study has been much concerned? Both seem to
place humanity at the center of attention, but do they have differences as well
as some congruence? At the risk of some oversimplification, it can be said that
the literature on human capital tends to concentrate on the agency of
human beings in augmenting production possibilities. The perspective of human
capability focuses, on the other hand, on the ability‑the substantive
freedom‑of people to lead the lives they have reason to value and to
enhance the real choices they have. The two perspectives cannot but be related,
since both are concerned with the role of human beings, and in particular with
the actual abilities that they achieve and acquire. But the yardstick of
assessment concentrates on different achievements.
Given her personal characteristics, social background,
economic circumstances and so on, a person has the ability to do (or be)
certain things that she has reason to value. The reason for valuation can be direct (the functioning involved may
directly enrich her life, such as being well‑nourished or being healthy),
or indirect (the functioning involved
may contribute to further production, or command a price in the market). The
human capital perspective can‑in principle‑be defined very broadly
to cover both types of valuation, but it is typically defined‑by
convention‑primarily in terms of indirect value: human qualities that can
be employed as "capital" in production
(in the way physical capital is). In this sense, the narrower view of the human
capital approach fits into the more inclusive perspective of human capability,
which can cover both direct and indirect consequences of human abilities."
(p. 293)
Here are the ideas from
Watts on narrative research, narrative capital and narrative capability that I
would like us to study in relation to their educational influence in our own
learning. I am also interested in their educational influences as we continue
to research to enhance our educational influences in the learning of our
pupils/students and others.
"Life
history research resonates with issues of discourse, power and resistance. By
filling in the spaces between statistical numbers with the lived experiences of
those who have been disempowered by hegemonic discourses, life history has the
potential to be an ideal methodology of resistance. This chapter sets out to
consider its potential. Drawing on Bourdieu's
concepts of social and cultural capital, and illustrated by examiners from a
series of life history projects, it considers the narrative capital of research
participants – the power they have to tell the stories of their lives. This narrative capital is then
located in the field of educational research and Sen's
capability approach is introduced to prompt the question: what real
opportunities do research participants have to tell the stories they value and
have reason to value? It is argued that narrative capital can be too easily
squandered by the failure to recognise individual values. The chapter concludes
with a call to open up the spaces that allow narrative research to generate
this capital, giving the disempowered the substantive freedoms (or capability)
to resist powerful hegemonies." (p. 99)
"Telling stories helps
people make sense of their lives, Locating the stories
they tell in wider social and political contexts helps us to understand the
deeper social constructions that shape their lives." (p. 100)
"Bourdieu
conceptualises capital as resources and commodities that become objects of
struggle because of their value in social relations of power: they are the
stake in the 'competition for a power that can only be won from others
competing for the same power' (Bourdieu, 2000: 241).
He identifies four main types of capital (Bourdieu,
1991: 229-31): economic capital, social capital, cultural capital and symbolic
capital.
Economic capital is
monetary wealth that has been inherited or generated through economic activity.
Social capital embraces the various kinds of valued or important relationships
with others (such as networks, connections and group membership) that generate
social processes and are deployed in pursuit of favour and advancement.
Cultural capital exists in three forms: in an embodied state (
eg in long-lasting dispositions of the mind
and body that sensitixe the individual to cultural
distinctions), in an objectified state in the form of cultural goods
(particularly those associated with 'high culture' such as books, works of art,
etc) and in an institutionalised state (where it includes such things as
educational qualifications). Symbolic capital includes prestige and social
honour as well as personal qualities such as authority and charisma but is also
the form that other types of capital assume once they are perceived and
recognised as legitimate.
Other forms of capital
include academic and educational capital (Bourdieu,
1988, 1993, 1996), emotional capital (Reay, 2000: Gillies, 200), juridical capital (Bourdieu,
1998), linguistic capital (Bourdieu, 1991), physical
capital (Shilling, 2004) and political and professional capital (Bourdieu, 1991, 1998)....
But
what of narrative capital?
Given that linguistic capital and the linguistic components of cultural capital
have already been comprehensively address, is there a place for this particular
form of story-telling capital? The simple answer (at least from this Bourdieusian perspective) is: Yes. Capital achieves its
most effective instrumental purpose when it is deployed in the appropriate
field. However, to construct the field 'one must identify the forms of specific
capital that operate within it, and to construct the forms of specific capital
one must know the specific logic of the field' (Bourdieu
and Wacquant, 1992: 108). It thus seems appropriate
that if life history participants are to be invited into the field of
educational research, or social science research more generally, we should have
a clearer understanding of the particular form of capital that defines and operates
within it and how that capital is produced, accumulated, reproduced and –
for those with less of it – kept in its place. In this context of
confronting power, then, narrative capital seems all the more pertinent if our
concept is to provide the otherwise disadvantaged with the capital required to
articulate the stories of their lives." (pp. 100-101)
"Narrative Capability
The capability
approach developed by Amartya Sen
(1992, 1999) and Martha Nussbaum (2000, 2006) can appear deceptively simple
with its concern to address the substantive freedoms individuals have to choose
and lead lives they value and have reason to value. Narrative capability - the
real opportunities individuals have to tell their stories – is of
fundamental importance to the capability approach because it enables the
articulation of what is valued and the recognition of the truly human life (see
also Bonvin and Farvaque,
2005; Phelps, 2006). Yet if the foundations of narrative research indicate the
importance of narrative capability, the unequal distribution of narrative
capital can significantly inhibit it. These difficulties, as well as the
complexities of the capability approach, can be gauged by briefly
contextualising its origins as a response to the shortcomings of commodities-based
and utilitarian assessments of human well-being.
From
a capability perspective.
Commodities (which include goods in the Rawlsian
sense and capital in the Bourdieusian sense described
above) only have value inasmuch as they enable individuals to make use of them
in the pursuit and achievement of a valued life. Thus, turning to an example
that frequently appears in the capability literature, a bicycle has no value to
someone who cannot ride it because she is disabled, because there are no
suitable cycle routes or because there (p. 106) may be laws or mores
prohibiting women from cycling. Moreover, human diversity means that we may
require different volumes of any given commodity to achieve the same level of well-being. Another well rehearsed
example that illustrates this problem of conversion factors is the
breastfeeding mother who requires a significantly greater calorific intake to
nourish herself and her child than, say, a pensioner leading a very sedentary
life. None of this is to suggest that commodities and capital have no value;
and both Sen and Nussbaum clearly indicate that being
well off can make a significant contribution to well-being.
However, commodities cannot be the sole measure of that well-being and so, from
a capability perspective, the focus has to be on 'the freedoms generated by
commodities, rather than on the commodities seen on their own' (Sen, 1999: 74)" (pp. 106-7)
"The young people
leaving school were given the opportunity to tell their stories and this
enhanced narrative capital allowed them to challenge the hierarchically
determined presumption that they had low aspirations because they were not
progressing to higher education. They had been given the narrative capability
they are required to deploy the narrative capital they possessed in order to
narrate the stories of their lives. Capability is concerned with the
substantive freedoms the individual has to choose and lead a life she values
and has reason to value. It is necessary to question the extent to which the
freedom to articulate those choices may be restricted by hierarchical power
structures that presume socially constructed values and that, moreover, limit
opportunity to talk even when invited to do so. Life histories have the
potential to resolve this by providing research participants with the freedom
to tell their stories and by contexualising those
stories to identify and confront the socially constructed hierarchies of power
that may otherwise inhibit the telling of tales.
The enhancement of
narrative capability requires us to pay attention to the bigger story of which
education may be only a small part. But we must also pay attention to the
participant's ability to tell a story. It may not be enough to let them
struggle through the story unaided. We may be able to develop an understanding
of their lives from stumbling speech and from silences but this is not
necessarily enough. Giving voice to our research participants, particularly
those with low volumes of narrative capital, must
therefore mean more than simply letting them speak (although this legitimation may be all they require). It must be about
understanding; and they may need support to articulate and understand their own
lives. Moreover, this support must acknowledge their own values if we are avoid
the hegemonic imposition of other lives, other stories and other values upon
them. We come back to life histories as a means of talking truth and
confronting power because they enable us to contextualise the stories we are
told and to understand them from the perspective of the story teller." (Watts,
2008, p. 110)
As we
explore the implications of ideas from Clandinin, Watts, McNiff and Sen I am hoping that some of these might be included in the
development of your enquiry and its conclusion.
Made appropriate critical use of the
literature and, where appropriate, knowledge from other sources, in the
development of the study or enquiry and its conclusions.
I'd also like to emphasise the significance of your writings in taking forward ideas in the September 2007 Special Issue of Educational Action Research on Young Peoples' Voices (Vol. 15, 3) and in Rudduck, J., & McIntyre, D. (2007). Improving Learning through Consulting Pupils. London: Routledge.
If you have copies of the Special Issue of the September 2007 Issue of EAR or Improving Learning Through Consulting Pupils, do please bring them along. I'm thinking here of how your conclusions can reflect the significance of your educational enquiries.
Love Jack.
References
Collingwood, R. G. (1991) An Autobiography, Oxford; Oxford University Press.
Clandinin, J. & Rosiek, J.
(2007) Mapping A
Landscape Of Narrative Inquiry: Borderland Spaces And Tensions, pp. 35- 75 in: Clandinin, J. (Ed.) Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping
Methodology, Thousand Islands, London, New Dehli;
Sage.
McNiff, J. (2007) My Story Is My Living Educational
Theory, pp. 308-329 in Clandinin, J. (Ed.) (2007)
Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping Methodology, Thousand Islands, London,
New Dehli; Sage.
Sen, A. (1999) Development as Freedom, Oxford; Oxford University Press.
Watts, M. (2008) Narrative Research, Narrative Capital And Narrative Capability, pp. 99-112 in: J. Satterthwaite, M. Watts & H. Piper (eds) Talking Truth & Confronting Power, in Satterthwaite, J., Watts, M. & Piper, J. (2008) Talking Truth, Confronting Power, Sterling; Trentham Books.
Whitty, G. (2005) Education(al) research and education policy making: is conflict inevitable? Presidential Address to the British Educational Research Association, University of Glamorgan, 17 September 2005. British Educational Research Journal, Vol. 32, No. 2. April 2006, pp. 159-176.