1
INTRODUCTION
The Practical Problem of Curriculum Making
Allan Luke
Debates over curriculum have durable histories and tend to work in binary arguments that caricature and distort complex educational positions and curriculum strategies: the basics versus the postmodern, traditional versus politically correct literature, rote knowledge versus constructivism and so forth. There is often little sense of the conceptual ironies, practical contradictions and empirical anomalies that the resultant settlements may generate. In current debates, these tend to be welded together into a dual set of claims: that the resultant teaching and learning, knowledge and power relations will contribute to (1) the growth and global competitiveness of domestic human capital and economy; and, since 9/11 and the global financial crisis, (2) national and regional social cohesion, affiliation and security. In the context of many OECD countries such as Australia, Canada, New Zealand and Nordic and European states, we would add to this the national concern that the curriculum settlement will contribute to, rather than deter, an equitable and âfairâ transmission and distribution of knowledge, skill and capacity to students, regardless of their ethnic, linguistic and social class background or location.
It would be convenient to dismiss such debates as a recurrent set of pendulum swings. This is the approach of the media, and often involves a harking back to mythological periods where the basics were taught, the intergenerational transmission of dominant cultural traditions ensued and meritocratic value was properly recognized. The industrial curriculum settlement of the last century was forged on two grounds. First, on the existence of a corpus of universal âskillsâ and âknowledgesâ that could be psychologically defined, transmitted through schooling and assessed through standardized instruments. Second, that these skills and knowledges were considered to be universally transferable and of exchange value in the social fields of work, civic life and community. Access to and use of these universal skills was not seen to depend on variable student background, insofar as the early 20th-century curriculum settlement was premised upon a consensually-derived, common monoculture: that the âdominant cultureâ valued the aforementioned universal skills, and that cultural, linguistic, social class characteristics of students and cohorts would not influence the desirability or accessibility of these skills. Hence, the late 20th-century curriculum settlement was predicated on stable and expanding industrial and service workforces, fair and non-discriminatory workplaces and civic spaces, culturally homogeneous populations and focused on the redesign of schooling to optimally ensure the acquisition of this corpus of universal skills.
This model has proven to be remarkably durable to critique â despite the social facts of population change and the emergence of technologically driven economic globalization. The results are ubiquitious multiculturalism and multilingualism in North America and Europe spurred by decolonization, large scale immigration and economic globalization. The historical lineage and persistence of the postwar industrial model of schooling is discussed by Patrick Shannon later in this volume and is well documented in curriculum history. Yet such historical moments blend and hybridize residual with emergent cultural traditions. They are not pendulum swings, but dialectically constitute new historical settlements, new social and cultural formations of knowledge and power â always partial and contested and, in effect, making and remaking what counts as knowledge, skill and competence, human cognition and sociocultural action.
So, however extreme and polemical such curriculum debates may be, they come to ground in a documentary and textual settlement that has an empirical consequence in the shaping of what teachers and students do in schools and classrooms, a process that occurs anew each and every day. While the actual official curriculum â the syllabus or curriculum guideline â cannot determine the curriculum in any direct and unmediated way, it nonetheless provides grounds for constraint, delimitation and prescription and, in our current accountability-focused contexts, enforcement, surveillance and monitoring of what occurs in classrooms and, indeed, in student learning, knowledge and consciousness. The normative goals and material outcomes of an equitable education remain matters for rigorous and multidisciplinary empirical scrutiny and principled theoretical and political debate (Luke, Green & Kelly, 2010).
As you read this book, in some national or state or regional educational system, teachers, consultants, union representatives, teacher educators, systems bureaucrats, along with discipline and subject-area experts are undertaking the practical task of making an official curriculum. We have participated in such gatherings in hotel conference rooms and corporate board rooms, in staffrooms and classrooms in Australia, North America and Asia and in villages and community halls in the South Pacific.
These meetings aim for professional exchange, consultation and consensus upon contents, standards, goals and objectives for teaching and learning in schools. At the onset of such meetings, marching orders are laid out: the technical parameters for the lists of skills and contents, standards and outcomes to be compiled are displayed on powerpoint slideshows or large sheets of butchersâ paper. But there are other, not so subtle messages also being passed around these rooms. To those who might want to debate larger issues of philosophy and ideology â the implicit message is something like âleave your curriculum theory at the doorâ and get on with the practical task of specifying what should be taught to whom and when; inevitably arguments arise â between advocates of this curriculum content and that; between those who want basic skills and those who want more space for problem solving or hands on activities; between those who see their task as representing those âexcludedâ by the curriculum and those who take up the voice of the supposedly oft forgotten âmajority.â But in terms of the technical vocabulary, taxonomies and categories to be used, these gatherings are more often than not fait acompli. Key decisions about curriculum philosophy and paradigm have already been made prior to these meetings beginning. Typically, the boxes to be filled in have been determined. An overall grid or map of the curriculum has already been set well before people sit down to debate. And it is in this grid that the political, cultural and ideological parameters of the curriculum are set.
These are moments in the formation of âofficial knowledgeâ (Apple, 1990). They are the actual sites where the textual work of constructing and construing regional, state and national curriculum settlements is done. Where tensions arise, they are over curriculum content: over the âselective traditionsâ (Apple, 1978) of human knowledge and wisdom to be taught. Historically, curriculum content has been and remains the focal point of public, political and media debate. In part this is because questions over which versions of historical events, of politics, of religion, of science and, indeed, of the state, are readily accessible to public scrutiny and media debate. It is also because matters of the representation of the âfactsâ of history, society and cultures, science and religion, the representation of national formation and human virtue, models of âqualityâ thought, writing and belief are necessarily contentious in secular, democratic societies. This is especially the case in media saturated societies, where versions of scientific and moral truth â of evolution, climate change, ecology, economics, war and peace, race relations, friend and foe, core cultural values â are under continual public scrutiny.
Consider, for example: the century-long US debate over evolution and creationism in the school curriculum, foregrounded again in the Louisiana Science Education Acts of 2008; the postwar argument in Japan over the representation of World War II (Nozaki & Inokuchi, 2000); the recent Texas discussons of the portrayal of cultural minorities, immigration and multiculturalism; the Australian disputes over the first contact of Aboriginal peoples and British colonizers in 1788 as settlement or invasion; or the ongoing debate over the uses and abuses of Huckleberry Finn as an historical, literary representation of slavery. Which texts and discourses and which versions of history and science will be represented in the official curriculum, and whose lingua franca will be the medium of instruction are important, core ideological and sociocultural decisions by education systems and by societies. These often generate full-blown paradigm wars â where competing visions of a particular curriculum field, and indeed particular normative versions of what will count as being literate, or as âplay,â as âearly childhood,â as âmiddle years,â or, for that matter, âlearningâ and âteachingâ generate tension. Open contestation over the selective curricular traditions of schooling is, by definition, a central element of what democratic schooling should be about â of the robust and, more often than not, divisive search for common and uncommon cultural touchstones, values and beliefs in culturally, linguistically and historically heterogeneous and heteroglossic societies. This contrasts sharply with autocratic societies where the decisions about what will count as knowledge are made in closed, inaccessible and incontestable contexts by elite interests.
These curriculum conversations, then, are crucial. But in the midst of such debates we hear little about the technical form of the curriculum. To return to the actual site of curriculum making â typically, the basic definitions and taxonomic categories of the curriculum are determined well before the curriculum writing process begins. The categories for curriculum developers, writers and consultants charged with developing state and system syllabus documents are more often than not âgiven,â fixed a priori in both philosophic and political senses and presented as beyond criticism. This means that the ânaming of the partsâ of the curriculum is never problematized: those of us engaged in this curriculum work are asked to identify and âfill inâ statements of âoutcomes,â âcontent,â or âskills.â Over the past two decades, depending on jurisdiction, this nomenclature has varied: with the emergence of categories such as âskills,â âbehaviours,â âknowledge,â âcompetencies,â âcapacitiesâ and more recently general capabilities or cross curricular dimensions or priorities, and other attempts to name what should be taught, how and in what sequence. These are the core categories and levels of specification used by state systems.
Consider this example: In one such meeting around the development of an Australian state governmentâs syllabus, the task at hand was to develop âoutcome statementsâ for infancy to Year 3. The task, we and other curriculum consultants were told, was to name âbehaviourally observableâ and âmeasurableâ outcomes. The result included items such as âcan hold head upright without assistance.â There is a great deal that can be said about the breaking down and parcelling of human development and cultural practice into discrete behaviours, much less about their ultimate measurability. Suffice to say, the description of the phenomena of infancy and early childhood into âoutcomesâ qua âobservable behavioursâ reflected core behaviourist assumptions. There is substantive sociological debate to be had about the extension of official knowledge into what were previously domains of family and community â the extension of official knowledge to preschool settings (Fuller, 2007). This further raises important issues about the extent to which such standards and approaches may or may not intrude upon, for example, the ways of childrearing and childhood of indigenous communities (Romero-Little, 2006). Finally, the âperiodicizationâ or segmentation of âchildhoodâ (cf.Grieshaber, this volume on âearly childhoodâ and Alvermann and Marshall, this volume, on âadolescenceâ) was presented as a naturalized, commonsense unit or segment of curriculum. Yet these âlargerâ issues were quickly swept to the side by the curriculum bureaucrats chairing these meetings as impediments to the technical task at hand; the filling in the developmental continuums of childrenâs growth and maturation. This event, as with so many similar events, was a âconsultativeâ process.
This volume is addressed to all those who work in scenes like this, making curriculum documents, resource materials, guidelines and policies and official syllabi. Our principal argument here, supported by our many colleagues across these chapters, is that the technical form of the curriculum matters. Critical curriculum studies has focused largely on normative theoretical assumptions curriculum and overt ideological content as the objects of critique and reconstruction. The prevailing assumption has been that issues of equity and social justice are focal matters of curriculum content â of the actual skills, ideas, facts, beliefs, histories and cultural scripts that are represented and sanctioned in the written, spoken and visual texts of schooling. Yet this has led to a neglect of the educational effects of the technical form of the curriculum, and left curriculum developers, consultants and experts â practical curriculum workers â without clear grounds to analyze the effects of the different taxonomic categories, grids and technical specifications of the curriculum. In what follows we and our colleagues begin to unpack possible parameters for an official curriculum that aims for high quality and high equity education.
References
Apple, M. (1978). Ideology and curriculum. New York: Routledge.
Apple. M. (1990). Is there a curriculum voice to reclaim? Phi Delta Kappan, 71(7), 526â30.
Fuller, B. (2007). Standardized childhood. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Luke, A., Green, J. and Kelly, G.J. (2010). What counts as evidence and equity? Review of Research in Education, 34(1), viiâxvi.
Nozaki, Y. and Inokuchi, H. (2000). Japanese education, nationalism and Lenaga Saburoâs textbook lawsuits. In L. Hein and M. Selden (Eds) Censoring history: Citizenship and memory in Japan, Germany and the United States. (pp. 96â126). Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe Inc.
Romero-Little, M. E. (2006). Honoring our own: Rethinking indigenous languages and literacy. Anthropology & Education Quarterly, 37(4), 399â402.
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CURRICULUM DESIGN, EQUITY AND THE TECHNICAL FORM OF THE CURRICULUM
Allan Luke, Annette Woods and Katie Weir
Introduction
This is a volatile period for curriculum settlements in many nations, states and regions. System curriculum documents â usually in the form of a formal syllabus, curriculum guideline1 or course of study â are often the first port of call for media and political analysts and critics in intellectual paradigm wars over content. This is because the documents exist as a publically accessible texts. Unlike the âenacted curriculumâ that occurs every day in student/teacher discourse, interaction and relationships, the official curriculum contains normative statements about what should be learned, and these are recoverable and available for ideological and cultural scrutiny. Hence, in periods of economic and social uncertainty and upheaval, in periods of cultural conflict and transformation, curriculum documents are often held accountable for the academic and social outcomes of schooling.
While public firestorms over education may begin with claims about falling levels of basic skills, declines in graduate outcomes and employer and media complaints about the general quality of graduates, the trail generally leads to two sources of the ostensible problem: the curriculum and teachers. That is, public attention turns to what is being taught â and who is doing the teaching. Bureaucratic incoherence or lack of political vision and will are rarely mentioned or critiqued in these public outcries.
The official curriculum and the official presentation of this curriculum in syllabus documents, what Michel Foucault (1972) referred to as âgrids of specificationâ, that is an institutional structure for mapping human knowledge and human subjects; the divisions and categories used to specify what the curriculum will be at this time and in this context. These grids are taxonomic and categorical systems used for describing a potentially unlimited universe of human knowledge and practice. The systems divide, contrast, regroup and derive what will constitute important and valued school knowledge, now, from the unlimited possibilities available. In this chapter, we refer to this taxonomy as the technical form of the curriculum. Our argument here is that the technical form of the curriculum matters. It has the effect of enabling and disenabling particular kinds of teacher professional interpretation and face-to-face-interaction in schools and classrooms. As an âopenâ or âclosedâ text (Luke, 1988), it encourages and discourages teacher and student autonomous action, critical analyses of local contexts, teachersâ bending and shaping of curriculum to respond to particular studentsâ needs and to particular school and community contingencies. We will argue and attempt to demonstrate that high definition, or extremely elaborated, detailed and enforced technical specifications and low definition, that is, less elaborated, detailed and constrained curriculum act as degrees of central prescription. We suggest that these levels of prescription â from high through to low â in turn set the conditions for local teacher professionalism or workforce deprofessionalization. The case we make is that over-prescription in the technical form of the curriculum has the effect of constraining teacher professionalism and eventually deskilling teachers, and that as a consequence less equitable educational outcomes ensue.
Curriculum theory and research provide ample theoretical tools for debating and contesting âwhose knowledge should countâ: whose versions of human wisdom and knowledge should and can be made to count in teaching and learning. These range from the foundational questions raised by the ânew sociology of educationâ (Young, 1971), through âcritical multiculturalistâ work of the 1990s (e.g., Nieto, 1999), to the ongoing reconceptualist work of feminists, poststructuralist and queer theorists (e.g., Pinar, 2001). These are matters of the tension between educational hegemony and recognitive justice (Fraser, 1997): that is, between the representation of âdominantâ views of culture, ideology and science; and of bids for the recognition and representation of âotherâ, minority views of the world, of cultural and linguistic practice, of everyday forms of life, human existence and experience. Such tensions play out regularly during curriculum reform processes and are evident in current curriculum debates in the US and Australia, particularly as that nation moves toward implementin...