Reconceptualizing Curriculum Development

Inspiring and Informing Action

James Henderson, and Colleagues

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781317648758
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education Curricula

Reconceptualizing Curriculum Development provides accessible, clear guidance on curriculum problem solving and educational leadership through the practice of a synoptic curriculum study. This practice integrates three influential interpretations of curriculum—curriculum as deliberative artistry, curriculum as complicated conversation, and curriculum as currere —with John Dewey's lifetime work on reflective inquiry. At its heart, the book advances a way of studying as a way of living with reference to the question: How might I live as a democratic educator?

The study guidance is organized as an open-ended scaffolding of three embedded reflective inquiries informed by four deliberative conversations. Study recommendations are provided by a carefully selected team. The field-tested study-based approach is illustrated through a multi-layered, multi-voiced narrative collage of four experienced teachers' personal journeys of understanding in a collegial study context. Applying William Pinar's argument that a "conceptual montage" enabling teachers to lead complicated conversations should be the focus for curriculum development in the field's current 'post-reconceptualist' moment, the book moves forward the educational aim of facilitating a holistic subject/self/social understanding through the practice of a balanced hermeneutics of suspicion and trust. It closes with a discussion of cross-cultural collaboration and advocacy, reflecting the interest of curriculum scholars in a wide range of countries in this study-based, lead-learning approach to curriculum development.

1
A NEW CURRICULUM DEVELOPMENT: INSPIRATION AND RATIONALE

Curriculum … emerges from an orientation and vision of who and what we are, where we come from, and where we are going. What is of the most extraordinary import, of course, is which particular vision we decide to choose, for the choosing of a vision allows us to become that vision. (Macdonald & Purpel, 1987, p. 192)

For the creation of a democratic society we need an educational system where the process of moral-intellectual development is in practice as in theory a cooperative transaction of inquiry engaged in by free, independent human beings who treat ideas and the heritage of the past as means and methods for the further enrichment of life, quantitatively and qualitatively, who use the good attained for the discovery and establishment of something better. (Dewey, 1952/2013a)¹

Inspiration

This book advances a new conception and practice of curriculum development that is inspired by a powerful pedagogical artistry. The preface began by inviting you to imagine highly motivated teachers and students engaged in critical thinking and creative problem solving activities. This chapter begins with brief illustrations of this pedagogical artistry, written by four of the lead-learning authors in part I: a kindergarten teacher, a fourth grade teacher, a high school teacher, and a university professor. They present four snapshots of their holistic teaching, which they see as personalized embodiments of their institutions’ mission statements and their country’s democratic aspirations. They hope that their individualized snapshots are instructive and, possibly, inspirational. Collectively, these four narratives are reminders that many educators feel they have a noble vocational calling which they understand in their own terms. There are many educators who don’t see themselves as bureaucratic functionaries, corporate employees, or compliant technocrats. They view themselves as lead professionals with important visionary, progressive responsibilities. In broader cultural and policy terms, countries that do not recognize such educators’ vital role in the dynamic health of their societies may be condemning their current and future generations to stagnant, regressive, and rigid lives.

Dan’s Pedagogical Snapshot: Two Oppositional Boys

Clark joined my kindergarten class one mid-fall day with a warning label: oppositional defiance disorder. A very intelligent and charming little boy, he shared many interests with his classmates. However, the explosive outbursts that brought this hideous label to this adorable little boy soon made themselves known to the entire hallway.

A confrontation would begin anytime an adult would say, “No Clark. Not like that, like this.” And these confrontations seemed to escalate in a consistent manner. First, Clark would warn with a defiant verbal protest. Then, he would raise his volume and intensity, often using obscenities. If the demands placed on Clark persisted, he would become physically aggressive with anyone or anything that was in close proximity. After a few incidents, the principal made arrangements for a “specialist” to observe and create a behavior plan. This “plan” would also be used for data collection, necessary for documenting a student’s need for an alternative placement in a “behavioral unit.”

In the meantime, I independently worked to devise a plan for allaying Clark’s challenges. Based upon the easily discernible provocations and predictable escalation I observed characterizing previous incidents, I made just one decision. Henceforth, Clark’s participation would be invited, not directed, and never demanded. It went something like this.

“Story time, everyone, please join me at the carpet.”

“No!” Clark shouted, “I’m drawing a picture! I won’t do it!”

“That’s fine, buddy. Take your time. Just know that you are welcome to join us over here.”

I went about our planned classroom activities. I was pleased to see Clark listening to the story as he finished his drawing. Soon, Clark’s listening from a distance progressed to participating from a distance and a gradual inching toward the group. Before I knew it, on his own terms, Clark became actively engaged in classroom activities, and now discussions are rarely protested.

When the ‘behavior specialist’ arrived to observe Clark’s noncompliance and disruptive outbursts, she was not able to pick him out of the crowd. Indeed, in our classroom, he enjoyed new identities such as “dinosaur expert” and “Jacob’s best friend.” At my first free moment, the consultant and I conversed.

“Is Clark here today?”

“We have a plan in place that is working pretty well for Clark. A compliance-based sticker chart really sets him up to fail.”

“Well, it really depends upon what the data indicate once we get this plan in place and you can begin to document his progress. Which one is he?”

“He’s the child who’s oppositional, defiant, and has explosive outbursts. You are a behavior consultant and you can’t pick him out of a group of 25 children in a kindergarten classroom; please write that down. That’s the most important data to report!”

“C’mon, Dan, just tell me who he is.”

“No! I won’t do it! This will be discussed at the IEP meeting, which should be about us restructuring to accommodate his needs, not documenting his inability or unwillingness to accommodate our structures.”

Chris’s Pedagogical Snapshot: Shining a Light into the Parental Communication Void

I’m teaching in the voids. My entry into this text’s holistic pedagogy began a couple of years after the 9/11 disaster, and it was more like a festering hole than a blooming flower. Once the shock was absorbed, I became acutely aware of my own ignorance. Since I was in front of my students when I first heard of the horror, it seemed to me that my teaching was implicated. In my classroom of second graders, familiar practices just couldn’t answer the abyss between what had happened, and my responsibilities to my students.

And that was how I commenced my doctoral studies. That I did it alongside of daily teaching duties has allowed a particular dialectic to emerge, one where the wisdom of professors, colleagues, texts, and theories found fertile fields in my classroom and life. Again, not like seeds of a well-sown crop, but more like soil amendments sifting into the hollows. My own journey of understanding about this way of being has opened my gaze regarding my role in a broader context. I’ve been able to continue lead learning as cofacilitator of an Educational Issues parent-teacher group. To my knowledge, there doesn’t appear to be another initiative like the Educational Issues Book Club. But the conditions for it surely exist elsewhere. Let me explain.

A few years ago, the dilemmas of parent communication came up during a discussion with my colleagues. We complained that parents must have no clue about the content of our teaching work. Emails at the last minute about where to send kids at dismissal, conferences at which they insisted their children deserved more individualized instruction, expectations that homework would take a back seat to athletics—all concerns that led us to the conclusion that many parents did not understand what we did at school. We realized we probably had some of the same ignorance about parent and family life. There didn’t seem to be an authentic space for coming together as mutually knowledgeable, but unknowing persons, to study the sometimes overlapping, complex dilemmas of teaching and parenting.

And so the separation of domains became the organizing problem for our actions. A colleague and I formed an Educational Issues Book Club. We conceived the purpose of the club as a forum to read, hear, and express concerns and visions about local and national issues that pertain to education and schooling. Each meeting, we focus our discussion with text—book chapters, blogs, articles, and movies. To date, we’ve discussed a host of issues such as the use of technology in education, social learning at school, discipline and ‘responsive classroom’ approaches, educational politics, state testing, teacher evaluation schemes, and cafeteria atmosphere.

It is rewarding that our members are now suggesting texts as springboards for our conversations, which means they are more attuned to educational issues than they would have been previously. As I see it, we collaboratively “address the cultural and existential challenges of democratic living.” By reading and hearing perspectives of others, we are more likely to examine issues in multifaceted and hermeneutic fashion. In that place where the void had been, then, I hope we cast light on the plurality that deepens our own understandings, and our collective comprehension of the democracy that is still in the making.

Boni’s Holistic Snapshot: Children are Beautiful

I had asked Terri, a tall, fit African American student, to stay after class to discuss his inadequate work ethic and disruptive language. “What the f**k do you want from me, Mrs. Woz? Why do you care?” he yelled, shaking with anger.

“I care because I see who you are … what you can become! It’s beautiful!” I nearly shouted back.

He burst into tears, his nearly seven-foot frame crumpling in front of me. After a moment, I asked him why he was crying. He said, “No one has ever said that to me. People don’t see a future for me.” His words left me breathless. How is it possible that after fifteen years, a child is never told he has the prospect of a beautiful future? If teachers can inspire, where was Terri’s inspiration after 10 years in schools? How do teachers, or perhaps more personally, how had I chosen to give or withhold encouragement to particular students in my practice?

These are the moments that inspire me to grow as a professional. “Teachable moments” and positive experiences certainly give a sense of clarity to my work. However, these moments of injustice that cause a visceral anger in my being are the ones that truly engender change in my practice. Winfield (2007) cautions that when we are most comfortable is when injustice and its underlying “ideology operates in its most pernicious state” (p. 151). Terri ended up, like many students of color, in juvenile detention and did not graduate from high school. While the decisions he made were his alone, I couldn’t help but wonder, whose job is it to teach children that they are, indeed, beautiful?

Teaching is a journey (Pinar, 1975). On one hand, the journey engenders growth for the teacher, a recursive process of “I am not yet” (Greene, 1998) in one’s ideology and pedagogy. Similarly, it is a process of being and becoming for students, a journey via curricular forms that foster particular action through education (Watkins, 2001). Therefore, the web connecting the Subject matter with democratic Self and Social (3S) understandings is always in a fluid state, changing with daily interactions in school.

As an educator, I consider myself lucky to have had a mentor who taught with consideration to the whole child, rather than her test scores. Ms. Cleary was a ninth grade earth science teacher who frequently gave up her lunch and planning period to attend to my grief over my parents’ divorce and maternal grandparents’ passing, all of which occurred during the year and a half prior to me taking her class. Yet, even in dealing with an emotionally fragile teenager, she managed to spark my curiosity in science and keep me on track with other subjects. From my experiences with this outstanding educator, I constantly find myself asking, “What does Ms. Cleary’s teaching teach us?” Yes, she produced high test scores. Yes, she was given several honors of excellence for her work. More significantly, she encouraged learning that did not forget that scores came second to the task of guiding children.

Beth’s Holistic Snapshot: Believing in Students

During winter break, I received a kind lunch invitation from two former students accompanying the claim that because I “believed in them,” they are where they are today. Actually, I identified wiggle room within the system to provide meaningful learning to guide them towards their self-defined goals.

Weeks after starting my university job, Anna visited my office soon in tears—her application to our professional architecture program was rejected because of her GPA. She explained the low average resulted from grades received during a past “difficult time.” She accused me of “standing in the way of her dream” (unaware I was not part of the decision to decline her application). I rebutted, “I would be the last person on this planet to stand in the way of anyone’s dream—I teach to help people attain their dreams.” I asked her to share her goal. She retorted, “I want to become a registered architect.” Review of her college transcript clearly indicated classroom success before and after the “difficult time.” I vowed to help her, but explained that her journey might require taking an alternative path.

Tony’s application to our professional architecture program was also rejected despite his decent GPA and class rank. He recalled, “My SAT score got me snubbed.” Accepted into Architectural Studies (ARCS), a non-professional liberal arts-based undergraduate program that I coordinated, Anna and Tony soon became critical friends. They flourished academically and as role models. They motivated groups of underclassmen through leading design-related service projects in the community. They thoughtfully negotiated problem solving across the diverse cultures within which they found themselves. After reflecting on their collaborative learning at an ARCS Forum attended by stakeholders, Tony focused on his goal: teaching and urban design.

While investigating graduate schools, Tony and Anna requested to volunteer as studio teaching assistants continuing the forum’s credo—learning to serve | serving to learn. How could I refuse? Empowered, they taught by listening to ideas, engaging in creative problem solving, and researching alongside students. Finally, they organized the annual ARCS Meet + Greet, showcasing coursework across the curriculum. They were growing in their own 3S pedagogical way.

After each received their Bachelor of Arts degrees, I championed their graduate school pursuits. Tony began teaching part-time while earning a Masters in Urban Planning, Design and Development coupled with a Masters of Urban Design. Anna’s advanced studies have included a graduate assistantship charged with graphics and partial coordination of her department’s lecture series as well as a peer-voted Chair position on the Student Activities Committee serving as liaison between faculty members and students. At lunch, we celebrated Tony’s employment offer as City Planner/Transportation and Streetscape Specialist for the City of Cleveland’s Planning Commission and Anna’s upcoming spring graduation with a Masters of Architecture. Anna’s architectural registration will undoubtedly follow.

These are two students—and there are many others—who were misrepresented by numbers and test scores. I believe these are the kind of graduates our professions need: leaders with a liberal arts breadth of knowledge fostering democratic humanism within societies and assuming interdependent responsibilities to earth and the cosmos.

Rationale

As described in the preface, curriculum development is one of the education profession’s most important and far-reaching topics. In fact, it can be argued that curriculum development in all of its diverse aspects—including program designing, lesson planning, and student evaluating—touches on the heart and soul of educational artistry. What is the basis for such a bold claim? And why begin this text in this way? The response to these two questions highlights the philosophical underpinnings of all curriculum activities. Since the term ‘curriculum’ denotes the educational course to be run, curriculum decisions are justified on the basis of a critical thinking that is directed toward a way of being that is pragmatically realized through a becoming generally described as educational growth.

Schubert (1986) argues that the three “bottom line” curriculum questions are: “What knowledge is most worthwhile? Why is it worthwhile? How is it acquired or created?” (p. 1). He explains:

Without direct consideration of what is worthwhile to know and its correlates of why and how, [all curriculum] activities are devoid of defensible meaning, purpose, and direction. When fundamental curriculum questions are not addressed by educators, economic or political caprice leads the way and educational practice is governed by default. (p. 1)

Though Schubert is arguing for the importance of critical thinking in curriculum work—for responsibly thinking about the ‘whys’ of educational courses of action—he is also recognizing the vital significance of carefully considering the ‘whats’ and the ‘hows’ implicated in the ‘whys.’ This introductory chapter is organized around th...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title Page
• Studies in Curriculum Theory
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword
• Preface
• 1 A New Curriculum Development: Inspiration and Rationale
• Part I Lead-Learning Invitations
• Part II Collegial Stories and Commentary
• About The Book's Collaborative Team
• References
• Index