In the field of education, there is a tendency to think one can get by with a little theory and perhaps no philosophy of education at all. However, we all have a tacit theory of teaching and learning as well as a philosophy of education, whether or not we ever articulate it to others or ourselves.
(p. X)
When we read Dewey and his contemporariesâ work, it is explicit. It moves the theoretical into the practical and provides the reader with a rationale for their practice. However, these texts tend to focus on K to 12 education or higher education, and in the emerging field of transition education, examples are lacking. As more and more generations of non-traditional students hit physical and digital campuses, understanding the âback storyâ of educational practice within the space of transition is paramount.
A little context âŚ
The term âtransitionâ in the context of higher education is used to describe the academic as well as social movement and acculturation of students into new educational spaces. The process of transition to higher education begins in the pre-university educational context (for example, in high school, college, vocational education, sub-bachelor or alternative access pathways) with the building of aspiration and expectations for university study, and continues into the first months or even year(s) of university, with the development of a learner identity and acquisition of the capacity to âact autonomously as a university studentâ (Briggs, Clark, & Hall, 2012, p. 6). This liminal space is the bridge into higher education and âsupport is needed on both sides of the transition bridge to enable students to adjust to universityâ (Briggs et al., 2012, p. 6). Research shows that the transitional period is the time when the highest attrition and academic failure rates are recorded (Mills, Heyworth, Rosenwax, Carr, & Rosenberg, 2009). However, once progressing into second year, students are more likely to continue to completion (Hillman, 2005; Marks, 2007; McInnis, Hartley, Polesel, & Teese, 2000). Therefore, if we want to ensure positive outcomes for our students, we need to examine closely and critically the transitional education space and our influence over it as educators. As Tinto and Engstrom (2008) put it, âaccess without support is not opportunityâ.
Part of this is understanding the context in which universities operate, which is constantly evolving under the influence of political, economical, educational, and institutional processes (Bradley, Noonan, Nugent & Scales, 2008). Universities are no longer simply spaces for learning, they have also become businesses offering education as a commodity in a global marketplace; and students are not just learners they are now also clients. âGlobally, neoliberalism in higher education policy reforms has been characteristic of capitalist societies, including Australia, since the 1980sâ (Zajda, 2013, p. 234). Alongside government policies aligned with âmarket-oriented ideologiesâ (Zajda, 2013, p. 246) and designed to bolster the knowledge economy across developed countries, national policies with widening participation agendas that aim to create âa fair chance for allâ have also emerged (DEET, 1990). In Australia, recent transformation and massification of higher education was prompted by the 2008 Review of Higher Education (Bradley et al., 2008) which set in motion targets for increasing and widening participation, particularly for under-represented groups. Following this review, a demand-driven system for government funding of university places was introduced, and substantial investments made to support identified equity groups including provision of alternative pathways to access university (Harvey, Burnheim, & Brett, 2016). Similar trends and policy reforms have also emerged across Northern America, the United Kingdom, Europe, and Oceania (Brett & Pitman, 2018). This has led to enhanced uptake by students and a diversifying demographic profile of incoming cohorts. More students from disadvantaged, low socioeconomic and/or first-in-family backgrounds are coming to university than ever before. Importantly, the nature and needs of these incoming cohorts are not necessarily the same as the traditional, middle-class student typical of the former elite system of higher education (Trow, 2007) who had always envisioned university as a part of their future. Moreover, access to university is simply not enough to ensure successful participation and completion. An understanding of the factors within our control for delivering the best possible outcomes for these diverse transitioning cohorts, within the current neoliberal climate, is of paramount importance to educators, universities, and governments alike.
A major emphasis of this monograph is on transition in the context of alternative access or pathway programs. As localised responses to contextual factors and global trends shaping higher education, these pre-degree programs have become a key widening participation and university recruitment strategy across many English-speaking countries (Agosti & Bernat, 2018; Brett & Pitman, 2018). In Australia, these are generally known as enabling programs (NAEEA, 2019), and defined by the government as âa course of instruction provided to a person for the purpose of enabling the person to undertake a course leading to a higher education awardâ (DotAG, 2003, p. 302). Apart from the rare long-running enabling program such as that offered by the University of Newcastle, enabling education has had a short history of rapid expansion in Australia following the 2008 Bradley Review. In 2017, the number of students commencing enabling courses nationally was 23,933 compared with only 7796 in 2007 (Australian Government, 2018). Further, national audits identified that across 27 Australian universities, there were 35 enabling programs offered in 2013 (Hodges et al., 2013), with that number rising to at least 48 more recently (McKay et al., 2018). An equity strategy turned mainstream marketing strategy, there is no doubt that enabling programs are becoming less âalternativeâ or ânon-traditionalâ and more normalised as a âlegitimate pathwayâ to university in Australia (Hodges et al., 2013).
Enabling programs in Australia share many similarities with âaccess programmesâ1 in the United Kingdom, which have had a longer and more established history, and differ in that they tend to lead to a qualification in their own right (QAA, 2019; SWAP, 2019). âBridging or foundation programmesâ in New Zealand (Trewartha, 2008), and âdevelopmental educationâ in the United States (NCDE, 2019), are also similar to Australiaâs enabling education sector, but delivered through different types of institution. In ânations with a colonial past such as Canada and New Zealandâ, pathway programs are considered of particular importance for servicing students âfrom First Nation or Indigenous populationsâ (Brett & Pitman, 2018, pp. 39â40). Notably, while the overarching goals are generically similar in aiming to âprepare students for the rigours of universityâ (Taylor, van Eyk, & Syme, 2018), differences exist in university pathway program offerings both within and between these countries in the duration, content, structure, modes of delivery, and types of institutions that deliver them, as they attempt to meet the specific needs of the local communities in which they serve (Agosti & Bernat, 2018).
Philosophy, pedagogy and practice
The philosophy of education is a highly complex and contested (Davids, 2018) area of research. Volumes have been written on the topic and further work on this topic alone would likely not end the contention. Bailey (2010) argues that the very meaning of philosophy is not agreed upon. Educational philosophy offers an attempt to capture the âunique purposes, concepts, learner roles and instructional methodsâ (Coello & Casanas, 2004, p. 385), and can describe many aspects of the teaching (Lal & Ebrary, 2006). Most poignantly educational philosophies provide âa holistic conception of people making and world-makingâ (Freeman-Moir, 2014, p. 118). It is recognised that the authors in this book possess different knowledges and come from a range of disciplines, and that this tints the individual interpretations of âphilosophyâ and indeed the particular approaches to each chapter. Some chapters in this book refer in more depth to particular educational philosophies. For example, emancipatory philosophies and philosophies of flourishing are reoccurring themes in this space, possibly because they are so well aligned with the purposes of widening participation. Upon encountering any educational philosophies that resound, we encourage the reader to explore beyond our conceptualisations. For the context of this book, however, we ask that the word philosophy be understood in a broader sense, as an attitude that acts as a guiding principle for behaviour, or as a form of intellectual inquiry (Carr, 2004). Here we invite a philosophical imagination (Carr, 2004) to guide reflection.
There is much to be gained from making explicit the philosophies and pedagogies that drive our practice. Our own beliefs surrounding the purpose of education can greatly shape not only our curriculum design but the way in which we relate to students. Reflecting on educational philosophies allows one to examine which educational values are promoted and which are marginalised (Carr, 2004). Furthermore, Carr (2004) argues that there are those that focus on educational philosophy, yet fail to let it influence practice, and on the opposing side, those that focus on practice yet lack philosophical rigour. Articulating and making explicit these values and beliefs, and how they influence our choice of pedagogy and in turn practice, can guide more conscious choices when creating appropriate learning experiences for students in transition.
Yet, how can we make these sometimes covert parts of our work more overt? We offer an iceberg analogy for seeing the interconnectedness. The tip of the iceberg, seen above the water, is practice, the daily activities an educator engages in to enhance learning. During our development as educators we receive training and accumulate theoretical concepts that guide us in choosing these learning activities. This accumulation, located just beneath the surface of an iceberg, can be conceived of as pedagogy. The deeply submerged parts of an iceberg, formed not only through educational training but also from life experience, are our beliefs, values, and attitudes about education. These can be considered our underpinning philosophies. It is this third layer that truly influences practice. Zinn (2004) similarly asserts that our life beliefs lay the foundation of our educational philosophies. It is our philosophical lens that leads us to either claim or discard certain pedagogies. For example, if I believe my job as an educator is to impart only academic skills, then I will ignore any pedagogy the extols the virtue of holistic education and will likely focus only on activities that build academic literacies. We will struggle to implement anything that is in discord to our educational philosophies.
The term pedagogy is often associated with ideas of training and discipline (Hinchliffe, 2000) and provides justification for the inclusion for certain learning activities. It refers to the contents of teaching through a humanâspecific social learning system (Gergely, Egyed, & KirĂĄly, 2007). In this context, we offer that pedagogy be understood as a set of theories that guide practice, and practice is understood as the series of processes and activities implemented in a learning environment. It is useful to mention that a number of teaching and learning pedagogies specific to undergraduate transitional spaces have been recognised in the field for their merit and influence on practice. Kift, Nelson, and Clarke (2010) proposed that an ...