Teaching Adolescents: Educational Psychology as a Science of Signs 9781442685642

Table of contents :
Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
1. Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching
2. Signs in Communication
3. Signs in Class Management and Discipline
4. Signs in Adolescent Development
5. Signs of Learning
6. Teaching as a Semiotic Venture
7. Signs of Exceptionality
8. Signs in Culture
9. Signs of the Expert Teacher
Glossary
References
Name Index
Subject Index

Citation preview

TEACHING ADOLESCENTS: EDUCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY AS A SCIENCE OF SIGNS

Grounded in the semiotic thought of Charles Sanders Peirce, America’s greatest polymath, Howard A. Smith’s Teaching Adolescents addresses topics in educational psychology from a semiotic or sign-based perspective rather than a behavioural one. In this educational psychology textbook, Smith’s main argument is that teachers must rely on signs of all kinds to understand students and to survive as teachers. This book is unique in applying a single unifying framework throughout. Among the many concepts that Smith discusses in Teaching Adolescents are the nature of the sign and its basis in semiotics, and the use of signs in classroom management. Various signs of learning and thinking are highlighted, as are those signs derived from local culture that have an impact on the lives of students and teachers, such as adolescent preoccupations with drugs and sex. In addition, Smith discusses what teachers can do to ensure their own physical and emotional health in the classroom. The theoretical continuity and practical application of semiotics make Teaching Adolescents an indispensable resource for students in preservice teaching programs and for teachers working with teens, as well as a fascinating and real-world study for anyone interested in the science of signs. (Toronto Studies in Semiotics and Communications) howard a. smith is a professor in the Faculty of Education at Queen’s University.

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HOWARD A. SMITH

Teaching Adolescents Educational Psychology as a Science of Signs

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO PRESS Toronto Buffalo London

www.utppublishing.com © University of Toronto Press Incorporated 2007 Toronto Buffalo London Printed in Canada ISBN-13: 978-0-8020-9099-7 ISBN-10: 0-8020-9099-0

Printed on acid-free paper Toronto Studies in Semiotics and Communication Editors: Marcel Danesi, Umberto Eco, Paul Perron, Peter Schultz

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Smith, Howard A., 1943– Teaching adolescents : educational psychology as a science of signs / Howard A. Smith. (Toronto studies in semiotics and communication) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-0-8020-9099-7 ISBN-10: 0-8020-9099-0 1. Semiotics – Psychological aspects. 2. Teenagers – Education. 3. Teacher–student relationships. 4. Communication in education. 5. Educational psychology. I. Title. II. Series. LB1033.5.S62 2007

371.102′2

C2006-905629-3

University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial assistance to its publishing program of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP).

In memory of Dick Hopkins (1949–2002) Exemplary teacher and reader of signs

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Contents

Preface

xiii

Acknowledgements

xix

1 Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 3 Semiotics 3 Nature of the Sign 5 Applied Semiotics 7 Signs in Schooling 9 Distinguishing between Education and Schooling The Culture of Schools 11 Schools in Historical Perspective 16 Adolescents in School 22 Signs in Teaching 24 The Culture of Classrooms 24 Signs of the Expert Teacher 27 2 Signs in Communication 29 Teaching as Communicating in Signs 30 Defining Communication 30 Communication in the Classroom 31 Verbal Signs 34 The Limitations of Discourse 35 Questioning 37 Non-Verbal Signs 41 Environmental Factors 42 Proxemics 47

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viii Contents

Kinesics 52 Haptics 58 Physical Characteristics 59 Paralanguage 60 Artefacts 61 Signs, Communication, and Cultures

61

3 Signs in Class Management and Discipline 65 Signs in Class Management 65 Adolescence and Class Management 67 Setting the Stage 69 Main Approaches to Classroom Management 70 Five Signs of Effective Teachers 74 Before School Begins 77 The First Day of School 78 Organization and Management during the First Few Weeks Maintaining What Has Been Accomplished Together 81 Signs in Discipline 86 Examining Teachers’ Beliefs about Discipline 87 Challenges to Classroom Order 90 The Challenges to Mr Altonen 90 Analysing the Challenges to Mr Altonen 90 Other Challenges 95 Promoting Student Self-Discipline and Responsibility for Learning 97 Some Dos and Don’ts of Discipline 98 In General, What Should Teachers Do? 98 In General, What Should Teachers Not Do? 99 Management for Pre-Service Teachers 100 4 Signs in Adolescent Development 104 Nomothetic and Idiographic Knowledge 105 Effects of Nature and Nurture on Behaviour 108 Nature (Heredity) 108 Nurture (Environment) 109 Nature and Nurture 109 Time 110 Genes and Memes 111 Physical Development 114 Puberty and Physical Characteristics 115

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Contents

Sex Differences in the Brain 116 Can People or Activities Be ‘Left-Brained’? 119 Brain Growth and Development 120 The Left-Handed Adolescent 121 Cognitive Development 124 Semiotic and Information-Processing Approaches Jean Piaget’s Theory: An Appraisal 125 Lev Vygotsky’s Theory: A Comparison 127 Recent Advances in Theory and Research 129 Moral Development 132 Social and Emotional Development 135 Social Development 136 Emotional Development 141

124

5 Signs of Learning 144 Learning and Its Major Approaches 144 Six Levels of Learning 146 The Behaviourist Approach 149 The Information Processing (Cognitive Constructivist) Approach 153 The Cultural Constructivist Approach 157 Comparing the Major Approaches to Learning 159 The Signways of Learning 164 The Linguistic Signway 165 The Musical Signway 168 The Logical-Mathematical Signway 170 The Spatial Signway 173 The Bodily-Kinesthetic Signway 175 The Social-Personal Signway 176 The Naturalistic Signway 178 6 Teaching as a Semiotic Venture 182 Signs in the Classroom 182 Multiple Literacies and Intelligence(s) Transmediation 189 Problem Solving 193 Surprise and Experience 195 Motivation 198 Emotion 203 Memory 208

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x Contents

Testing and Assessment 216 General Principles of Teaching 221 7 Signs of Exceptionality 225 The Concept of Exceptionality 225 Special Education and Inclusion 228 Coping inside the Inclusive Classroom 231 Accommodations 231 Modifications 232 Strategies 234 Promoting Social Development and Social Acceptance Using Labels with Exceptional Adolescents 235 Jennifer, Diagnosed as Hard of Hearing 236 Scott, Diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome 236 Mike, Said to Have a Learning Disability 237 Theresa, Said to be Gifted 238 The Spectrum of Exceptionalities 239 Introduction to Disability Studies 241 Teaching Exceptional (and all) Students 246 Teaching Involves the Semiotic Process of Generating Meanings 247 Meaning Is Dependent on Culture and Context 250 Meaning Making Is a Collective Process 252 Meaning Making Is an Individual Process 254 Meaning Is Established in Every Signway 255 Things Not to Do 256 Explicit Teaching 257 Ability Grouping 261 8 Signs in Culture 265 Adolescents and Their Cultural Surround Sexuality 269 Teenage Pregnancy 270 Sexuality Diversity 272 Hurting Oneself 274 Dealing with Death 275 Substance Abuse 276 Suicide 278 Hurting Others 284 Physical and Emotional Abuse 285

265

234

Contents

Bullying 290 Sexism 292 Racism 293 Life after School 294 Dropping Out 294 Further Study and Other Alternatives School in Society 299

298

9 Signs of the Expert Teacher 302 Teaching as a Sociocultural Role 302 Characteristics of Expertise in Teaching 305 Progressing from Novice to Expert 305 Qualities of Expert Teaching 308 Suggestions for New Teachers 310 Demonstrating Expertise 310 Cooperative Learning 311 Mastery Learning 312 Homework 313 The Parent–Teacher Interview 314 Appraising One’s Own Performance 316 Expectations and Self-Fulfilling Prophecies 320 Teaching Satisfactions and Dissatisfactions 323 Teacher Stress 326 Factors Associated with Stress among Teachers Effects of Stress 329 Dealing with Stress 330 Surviving as a Teacher 331 Glossary

335

References

345

Name Index Subject Index

379 389

327

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Preface

The main objective of this book is to inform future secondary school teachers about how best to teach adolescents. But what does ‘teach’ mean in this context? What are the defining characteristics of good teachers, and what must they know about organizing and managing classrooms? What should teachers know about the learning and development of adolescents in order to teach them effectively? What role does biology play in helping teachers understand adolescents? How do cultural views affect the mandated curriculum and the essential values of school? What can teachers do to promote their own stability and enthusiasm for teaching over the long term? These and other questions will be addressed in the following chapters. As you can probably guess, there are no single or simple answers to these questions, as answers depend heavily on the supportive disciplines and theoretical perspectives brought to the topics at hand. Much of the content of this book is drawn from the discipline of educational psychology, but theory and research in related fields such as semiotics, evolutionary psychology, and anthropology often supplement that content. More significantly, the conception of educational psychology presented here is broader and deeper than the usual renditions appearing in most other textbooks in the discipline. The content is broader in that it addresses topics not usually included in such texts, such as communication and applied semiotics. The content is deeper in that throughout, the book offers a unifying theoretical perspective based on signs instead of a collection of often disconnected topics and findings. Indeed, the basic claim of this book is that all we know or can claim to know is based in signs, a concept to be defined shortly. Put more bluntly, signs are all we have to work with. When we translate this statement into

xiv Preface

the classroom context, we can ask the following questions: (a) What is an IQ of ‘85’ a sign of? (b) What is hitting a classmate a sign of? (c) What is tardiness a sign of? (d) What is hastily completed homework a sign of? And so on, ad infinitum. This focus on signs shifts the teacher’s attention from observed behaviours, which are always signs of something, to the meanings of those behaviours (or signs). In this way, meanings are based on signs and signs come to ‘mean’ through an inseparable combination of biological predispositions (i.e., heredity) and cultural experiences (i.e., environment). Teachers and students – as do humans everywhere – use signs unceasingly to guide their ongoing understandings and actions. Because this sense of sign may be new to you, I will sketch its broader context (see chapter 1 for further details). The formal study, discipline, or science of signs is called semiotics, from the original Greek term for sign. Although semiotics consists of several subcategories, the one of primary interest to us is applied semiotics, which is the application of semiotic concepts and practices to real-life matters. A further level of analysis brings us to a focus on human cognition and learning and to the subdiscipline that I have termed psychosemiotics (H.A. Smith, 2001). In my sense, psychosemiotics is the study of how humans learn, understand, and use the signs of culture. One central aim of this book is to apply the psychosemiotic perspective by arguing that adolescent learning and understanding is based in signs and their meanings. Now, let me elaborate on the concept of sign. A sign can be defined (perhaps unsatisfactorily) as anything that stands for something else to somebody. For example, the word ‘tree’ is a linguistic sign that stands for something else, in this case a botanical entity that grows in the ground and that displays particular features distinguishing it from a flower or vegetable. Through cultural experience – which often includes supportive encounters with actual trees – we learn to associate the word with the entity. In this way, ‘tree’ is the sign for tree. However, it is important to note that a sign is not a sign unless it is understood as such. Thus the word ‘tree’ is meaningless (i.e., it is not a sign) to someone who speaks no English and who may never have seen a tree. Furthermore, a maple tree holds limited meaning to those who are familiar with some kinds of trees but who have never seen a maple tree. To apply these notions to the classroom, teachers need experiences with myriad perceptual incidents before these incidents become meaningful to them and thus become signs from which they can then act. As will be argued in following chapters, the essence of most schooling is the teaching and learning of cultural signs, especially the symbolic systems

Preface

xv

usually referred to as the three R’s: reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic (as described in chapter 1, symbols are a particular type of sign). But we shall also see that signs are far more pervasive than this and that a teacher’s effectiveness is tied closely to his or her ability to comprehend and act on a wide range of individual and cultural signs. Before I summarize the chapter contents, I should address one more issue consistent with the psychosemiotic perspective. The standard approach to educational psychology focuses on abstract, rational cognition to the exclusion of underlying biological and often emotional factors that guide our thinking and behaviour. This approach is understandable, given the computer metaphor that has dominated cognitive psychology over the past forty years, but many human qualities are lost in this vision. Teachers and students are not stimulus-response mechanisms (the traditional behaviouristic stance); nor are they dispassionate information processors (the prevailing cognitive science view of human functioning). Rather, they are proactive agents guided by embodied thinking, contextual demands, and often non-conscious intentions. In this vein, the issues, research, and approaches to teaching addressed in this book highlight the forms and complexities of human meaning in context instead of stressing general principles of behaviour drawn from studies on mindful cognition and other features of the information processing paradigm. Chapter 1 elaborates on the nature of the sign and its basis in semiotics. The ideas of school and teaching as signs are also introduced. Chapter 2 underscores the view that teaching is a profession grounded in signs of communication and relationship rather than in those of information. Non-verbal rather than verbal communication is emphasized because of the former’s tremendous power to influence human interactions both inside and outside the classroom. In chapter 3, as an extension and application of chapter 2, signs in classroom management and discipline are addressed. Successful teaching is often characterized by the ability to use this category of signs quickly, quietly, and effectively. Chapters 4 and 5 present some of the more standard content of educational psychology textbooks, albeit with this difference: they place more emphasis on the roles of biology and emotion in both development and learning. In chapter 4, signs in adolescent development are presented, with attention paid to both biological and cultural aspects of development. In this analysis, development is seen as occurring on both emotional and cognitive planes. Chapter 5 addresses various signs in learning and thinking, including the many ways in which adolescents

xvi Preface

learn and come to learn. Different modes of inference are highlighted, along with capabilities of the seven signways. In chapters 6 and 7, implications of the principles of development and learning are explored. The application of the psychosemiotic perspective to classroom instruction, and related processes, are presented in chapter 6; signs of exceptionality are summarized in chapter 7. The usual approach to understanding exceptionality is to interpret human differences relative to signs drawn from established norms, but questions can be asked about who determines exceptionality, on what bases, and for what reasons. This area of inquiry, usually termed disability studies, approaches signs from a critical interpretive perspective. The final two chapters focus on signs that extend beyond the classroom but that have significant impact on students’ and teachers’ lives inside the classroom. Chapter 8 addresses various cultural influences, such as drugs and sex, that often preoccupy adolescents on a daily basis, while chapter 9 considers the qualities of the expert teacher and some of the steps that teachers can take to safeguard their physical and emotional health in a demanding profession. Both chapters emphasize once again the pervasive influence that cultural signs have on human cognition and behaviour. The book’s contents and chapter ordering (the latter based roughly on the ‘concerns’ model described by Fuller and Bown [1975]) are intended primarily for pre-service teachers at the secondary school level. Readers interested in the semiotics of teaching, learning, and living can read the chapters in any order according to individual needs or interests. To promote further reading and reflection on selected topics, I have listed several key references at the end of each chapter. The book’s psychosemiotic perspective is reflected in the following five themes, which provide a conceptual overview of the chapters that follow. 1 A Semiotic View of Schooling and Teaching: An introduction to the semiotic view grounded in signs, and to how psychosemiotics in particular can inform us about the cultural processes of schooling and teaching. Chapter 1. Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 2 Signs in Communication and Classroom Management: If communication and relationship are viewed as the essence of teaching, then certain signs become critical for knowing and managing both students and the curriculum. Chapter 2. Signs in Communication Chapter 3. Signs in Class Management and Discipline

Preface xvii

3 Biological and Cultural Signs in Adolescence: Teachers are faced constantly with the need to understand signs related to the ongoing and multifaceted processes characteristic of adolescent development and learning. Chapter 4. Signs in Adolescent Development Chapter 5. Signs of Learning 4 Applying Signs at the Teaching Learning Interface: In formal teaching situations, teachers apply what they know about development and learning across a very broad spectrum of human interest and capacity. Chapter 6. Teaching as a Semiotic Venture Chapter 7. Signs of Exceptionality 5 Cultural Signs beyond the Classroom: Learning and teaching are affected by many powerful cultural factors that intrude constantly in the lives of both adolescents and teachers. Chapter 8. Signs in Culture Chapter 9. Signs of the Expert Teacher

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Acknowledgments

I am most grateful to the late Dick Hopkins, who enthusiastically granted full access to his high school class in Manufacturing Technology for research purposes. When my colleague Ann Marie Hill and I conducted our study in the mid-1990s on an exemplary classroom in Technological Education, we chose Dick’s class based on his reputation as an outstanding teacher and a 1994 winner of the Prime Minister’s Award for Teaching Excellence. Results of our research – which was supported by Strategic Grant No. 812-95-0004 from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada – were reported widely (e.g., Hill & Smith, 1998). These results include a video production, presentations to both teaching and academic communities, published articles, and insights as presented in the following chapters. The photographs in this book constitute a small sample of the more than six hundred images that I captured in the course of the research. For all of the images and the accompanying videotapes and audiotapes created by both Ann Marie and myself, I am most grateful to Dick and his students. Dick’s sudden and unexpected passing in 2002 shocked all of us who knew him, but his example of an excellent and dedicated teacher lives on. This text is a major revision, with a dramatically altered focus, of an unpublished work created jointly more than fifteen years ago with another colleague, Nancy Hutchinson. Recently, Nancy kindly granted me full access to the chapters and content for which she had been primarily responsible in that original manuscript. Although every chapter has been revised and updated significantly in order to conform with the new, overarching semiotic perspective, I am sure that some of the remaining material still reflects Nancy’s hand. I am most grateful to those key individuals who made substantial con-

xx Acknowledgments

tributions to the present work. First, my spouse Karin Steiner brought a critical eye and careful reading to large portions of this manuscript. Of course, the responsibility is mine alone for any lingering mis-statements and errors. Second, two anonymous reviewers offered both highly supportive comments on the manuscript and invaluable suggestions for its improvement. I very much appreciated reading the analyses of these rare individuals who were well informed in the two often-disparate disciplines of educational psychology and semiotics. Third, editorial staff at the University of Toronto Press were essential in seeing this work through to completion, especially Editor Len Husband for his close attention in shepherding me through the various publication processes and Managing Editor Frances Mundy for her careful work on copyediting and production. Thank you all.

TEACHING ADOLESCENTS: EDUCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY AS A SCIENCE OF SIGNS

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1 Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching

MARY Mary Maarten had to finish some photocopying before school began, and she was hung up in traffic. As she finally turned onto the street leading to Holleford Secondary School, she was immediately aware of the many signs of school: a street sign with the silhouette of a running child; streams of young people flowing in one direction with their multicoloured backpacks; yellow school buses competing with other vehicles for road space; hundreds of cigarette butts scattered on the sidewalk just outside school property; and the large main entrance with the school crest containing the Latin phrase Sapere aude, which Mary understood to mean ‘dare to be wise.’ As she entered the main door of the school, she was aware of the busy general office on the left containing the administrative suites. On the wall straight ahead the large, glassed-in trophy case appeared with its various cups and trophies plus a large wooden sign proclaiming ‘Home of the Hawks’ (the name of the school’s senior sports teams). As she hurried to the photocopier in the teachers’ staff room, she reflected once more on how close the science and English classrooms were to the front of the school compared with her own Tourism and Hospitality class. Now, just fifteen minutes to the first bell of the day.


Semiotics This book brings a semiotic point of view to teaching in secondary schools and to understanding adolescents. This perspective emphasizes the signs that are inherent in any given situation as well as the interpretations and actions that result from attending to those signs. In everyday

4 Teaching Adolescents

life we all respond constantly to the unceasing presence of signs; that said, teachers have a professional responsibility not only to respond to signs but also to actively and deliberately teach them to others. In the brief case of Mary, we saw how her world as a professional educator was perfused with signs – that is, signals or clues – about the nature of school and the cultural values attending this particular setting. In this book we shall be emphasizing the forms of these various signs – which range from testosterone to testing – and how experienced teachers interpret and respond to them. A central argument in the following chapters is that success in teaching depends heavily on the ability to handle signs of many kinds in the processes of instruction and management. This chapter introduces some basic concepts concerning the discipline of semiotics and the idea of the sign as promulgated by Charles Peirce. Also, two subsidiary levels of semiotics will be addressed briefly: applied semiotics as one of three branches of semiotics, and psychosemiotics as a subdiscipline of applied semiotics. The final sections of the chapter will show how psychosemiotics can inform us about the cultural processes of schooling and teaching from the early history of formal education until today. As examples, we will discuss the early Western cultures of the Middle East, Greece, Rome, and Europe. A definition seems in order at this juncture: semiotics is usually defined as the doctrine, study, or science of signs. Less formally, semiotics can be described as the study of all systems of signs (such as mathematics, architecture, language, music, and dance) and symbols (which are often taken as special cases of signs), as well as the study of how signs are used in generating meanings and messages. The oldest known formal application of semiotics – the term is derived from the Greek word for sign – began with the reading of bodily signs in the medical practices of Hippocrates (460–377 BC) and Galen (c AD 130–200). Although other historical giants such as Aristotle, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, and Roger Bacon all addressed the idea of signs in one form or another, the history of modern semiotics began near the end of the seventeenth century, when John Locke (1632–1704) used the word semiotic to define one of three divisions of science (Nidditch, 1975). Two hundred years later, around 1897, Charles Peirce (1839–1914) picked up on Locke’s insight and described semiotics (although Peirce always used the term semeiotic) as ‘the quasi-necessary, or formal, doctrine of signs’ (Hartshorne & Weiss 1932, 2: 134). The term semiotics came into general use in 1962 following the first American conference on the discipline (Sebeok, 1986). Today, semiotics is being applied in such diverse areas as forensic anthropology, software development, medical diagnostics, theatrical

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching

5

production, and commercial advertising. Indeed, signs and their meanings are absolutely everywhere. An alternative conception of semiotics resides in psycholinguistics, in other forms of linguistic analysis, and in many structuralist accounts. This view of semiotics is represented by the writings (and followers) of Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913), the founder of the perspective known as semiology (Saussure, 1915/1966; Silverman, 1983). According to this approach, semiology is a subset of psycholinguistics. In contrast, the view this book will take is that linguistics and all forms of language use are in fact a subset of semiotics – a position consistent with Peirce’s notion of the discipline. Semiotics can be divided into a number of subdisciplines such as zoosemiotics, phytosemiotics, neurosemiotics, and ethnosemiotics. However, in this book the subdiscipline of psychosemiotics will be the only one of concern to us. Elsewhere (H.A. Smith, 2001), psychosemiotics has been defined as the study of how humans learn, understand, and use the signs of culture. In this view, meaning at the cognitive level is derived from the countless signs that are everywhere around us. Our effective functioning as human beings is depends entirely on our ability to comprehend these signs. Indeed, the essence of schooling is the teaching and learning of cultural signs, especially through the symbolic systems usually represented as the three R’s (reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic), which are often proclaimed as the cornerstones of education. But because signs are far more pervasive than the two formal symbol systems of language and logic, the effective teacher of adolescents is a keen reader of signs of all kinds. In the next section, the nature of the sign and its significance for teachers and for teaching will be addressed. Nature of the Sign The concept of sign was introduced earlier. In this section I elaborate on it in view of its central role in this book. The notion of sign this book will adopt is one that reflects the triadic, irreducible, and unceasing process that Peirce (1992, 1998) described on various occasions. That is, the sign, which never stops growing and changing, has three constituents, which cannot be decomposed further without destroying the sign. For our purposes, I will use Peirce’s well-known definition of 1897: A sign, or representamen, is something which stands to somebody for something in some respect or capacity. It addresses somebody, that is, creates in the mind of that person an equivalent sign, or perhaps a more

6 Teaching Adolescents Figure 1.1. The sign according to Peirce

Student sees test papers on the teacher’s desk

REPRESENTAMEN (R)

Determination

Determination

Interpretation

OBJECT (O) Tests are used to evaluate the student’s progress

INTERPRETANT (I) Student decides to study tonight to prepare for test

developed sign. That sign which it creates I call the interpretant of the first sign. The sign stands for something, its object. It stands for that object, not in all respects, but in reference to a sort of idea, which I have sometimes called the ground of the representamen. (quoted in Buchler, 1955, 99)

This conception of the sign is shown in figure 1.1, together with an example of the sign in use. One point should be made about the terminology associated with this definition. The word sign is generally used by Peircean scholars (e.g., Corrington, 1993; Serson, 1997) to refer to the entire triad of constituents, whereas representamen (also called a sign in the above definition) is used to denote the first of the three constituents. Thus, the representamen is taken as the sign in an existing form that is brought to a given situation, whereas the interpretant is the sign in its more developed form following an acquaintance with the object. The interpretant becomes the representamen at the next involvement with the same object. In the example presented in figure 1.1, and beginning with the representamen, the test papers on the teacher’s desk are a sign to the student who is already familiar with testing and exams. The object that deter-

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mines these test papers is the school’s mandate to evaluate students’ academic progress. The student acts on the sign of the test papers by resolving to study tonight for the test that she expects will take place in tomorrow’s class. The student’s decision to study is her interpretation of the school’s testing mandate. In this way, the representamen (the test papers) is inextricably linked to both an object (the school’s need for testing) and an interpretant (the decision to study in order to do well on the test). Furthermore, every testing occasion broadens and deepens the sign for the student. Although the sign may appear as a static entity in the definition and portrayal shown in figure 1.1, the thrust of Peirce’s formulation is one of continuous change and development. Every time we are exposed to a situation, our knowledge and awareness of the situation grows. This semiotic process of ongoing and unceasing sign development is called semiosis, which is akin to learning and is the most fundamental of human processes. In this way we are constantly aware of and responding to signs of all kinds such as cloud formations, traffic signals, smiles from Aunt Jemmie, Montreal Canadiens sweaters, and growling dogs. All of these signs impart meaning of some sort and result in some kind of action. These signs become meaningful through the interaction of biological predispositions and cultural experiences, both of which we shall examine in later chapters. Note well that Peirce placed particular importance on non-verbal signs of all kinds. Unlike many scholars and researchers both past and present, he gave no privileged status to verbal or literary texts and assigned great value to non-verbal and embodied signs (Sykes, 2000). In taking this position he was a century ahead of his time (see Lakoff & Johnson, 1999). Applied Semiotics One further aspect of psychosemiotics is worth addressing before we consider signs of schooling and teaching: placement within the academic disciplines. Because of its focus on mind, body, and meaning, psychosemiotics draws on the theory and concepts of both semiotics and cognitive science (which some theorists view as a branch of semiotics). Thus, psychosemiotics is especially close to the subdiscipline of cultural psychology – which should not be confused with ‘cross-cultural’ psychology, which sees culture as an independent variable rather than as an intrinsic element of cognition. Within semiotics, psychosemioticians and their associated educational researchers and practitioners belong to the field of applied semiotics. But what is applied semiotics? It is probably Charles

8 Teaching Adolescents

Morris who coined this compound term, when many years ago he described semiotics as either pure, or descriptive, or applied. According to Morris, applied semiotic(s) is ‘the application of semiotic as an instrument [and] utilizes knowledge about signs for the accomplishment of various purposes’ (cited in Sebeok, 1990, 324). From this standpoint, applied semiotics has a practical bent of the sort that often characterizes research in such fields as education, law, medicine, and marketing. A second classification system for semiotics appeared in an undated early-1990s guide to semiotic studies at Indiana University. It included the word ‘practical’ as a central characteristic of applied semiotics: Semiotics may also be regarded as a constellation of beliefs, values, and techniques which serve as a unifying matrix for all knowledge. The search for theoretical foundations and for an interdisciplinary method among the sciences and humanities is called General Semiotics. Another branch of the field, Comparative Semiotics, deals with the establishment of common methodological techniques. A third, Applied Semiotics, involves the practical applications of empirical researches in various organisms, channels of communication, sensory modalities, and different types of codes, as these are found throughout various media.

A third way to classify semiotics was suggested by Roland Posner (1996), who stated that among other things, applied semiotics involves the creation of novel sign systems: It is the general task of sign theory (semiotics) to explore possible structures and functions of sign systems (theoretical semiotics), to describe and compare actual sign systems (descriptive semiotics), and to recommend particular sign systems for particular purposes or, if necessary, to devise new sign systems (applied semiotics). (10)

From these and other statements concerning the nature of applied semiotics, it appears that there is little consensus about what constitutes this branch. Sebeok (1990) proposed that three intermingling criteria qualify an activity as applied semiotics: policy, social action, and information. Thus it can be argued that there are free-flowing exchanges among the various categories of semiotics (however they may be defined), and that pragmatic and practical objectives can lead to action and policy initiatives. For most people engaged in educational inquiry, the developing understandings that prompt change in educational processes can be referred to generally as applied semiotics.

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Signs in Schooling The purpose of this section is to demonstrate the critical and essential role played by signs in schools and schooling ever since societies founded schools to meet their cultural requirements. To this end, I shall begin by making an important distinction between schooling and education before addressing aspects of school culture. I shall then offer a brief history of Western schooling, with a focus on the Mediterranean area, where this tradition was born. Finally, I shall address from a psychosemiotic perspective features of adolescent presence in modern secondary schools. Distinguishing between Education and Schooling In its most general sense, education refers to the unceasing everyday experiences with cultural knowledge and to the learning of that knowledge. The point is to equip citizens to become socially competent. In this view, education is the ongoing natural process of cultural assimilation. It involves the development of one’s knowledge, skills, mind, character, and so on (e.g., Levinson & Holland, 1996) and can be seen as constituting the bulk of human endeavour. In its narrower sense, education is taken to mean the formal structures and processes established by society to ensure the continuity of approved knowledge for the next generation of citizens. Thus education is often equated with formal education as reflected by the institution of schooling. In this book I will tend to use education in the latter, narrower sense, although my biases tend towards the former general meaning. What, then, are the primary features of education? And what should be the objectives of schooling? In the psychosemiotic view, education is a semiotic process grounded in meaning making; its raison d’être is the learning of signs and the making of meanings across the full range of human intellectual capacity. These forms of capacity have been described as biopsychological potentials that manifest themselves as multiple intelligences (Gardner, 1983) and that connect the individual to the outside world through representational modes called signways (H.A. Smith, 2001). From this point of view, the principal mission of a full educational system is to promote the mastery of signs and symbols across a broad range of human endeavour, including not only language and mathematics but also other domains such as cultural myths, music, rituals, and ways of being. Yet, the learning of signs of many kinds contrasts sharply with the tra-

10 Teaching Adolescents

ditional focus of Western formal education, which has tended to emphasize the group of cultural symbols known as ‘the three R’s.’ Although this catchphrase is intended to refer to reading-’riting-’rithmetic (ironically, two of the three domains are misspelled), educational reformers have rendered it in such unflattering forms as read-recall-recite and restateregurgitate-revenge. Curricular emphasis on the three R’s may have served society quite well when the main purpose of schooling was to educate students for academically oriented careers and when students with other motivations and abilities were able to leave school easily to assume other social responsibilities and occupations. However, with current pressures for students to remain in school longer and with schools having to address social problems and issues such as bullying and drug use, exclusive focus on the three R’s and disembodied abstract learning is no longer appropriate. Rather, education should now deal with the full array of human abilities in order to promote students’ competence in many different sign systems. This last point is not new. For example, an important semiotician of the first half of the twentieth century, Charles Morris, sketched a plan for the teaching and learning of signs in school. Morris emphasized linguistic signs and a political agenda that accented democracy; even so, his suggestions are worth noting more than a half-century later: Through every phase of the educational system, it would be possible to acquaint students with the main kinds of signs, the purposes which they serve, the factors which hinder sign adequacy, the complementary character of the various types of discourse, and some understanding of the interrelation of knowledge, valuation, and action. The dominant aim of such instruction would be, however, the acquisition of skill in the use of signs. This would mean that the student should himself [or herself] year after year be encouraged to produce signs of various kinds and for various purposes. (1946, 244)

Morris then reflected on the broader effects of incorporating semiotics in the educational agenda: An education which gave due place to semiotic would destroy at its foundations the cleavage and opposition of science and the humanities. For the importance of accurate knowledge in the formation of preferences and decisions would at no place weaken the importance of forming preferences and decisions relevant to the insistent problems of personal and social life.

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 11 And in work upon the common cultural heritage of its students such an education would help to recreate and transmit the common symbols required by a democratic society, while at the same time preparing the student for playing his [or her] own dynamic and constructive role in the extension of democratic processes. (Ibid., 246)

In this book, schooling and education are seen as centrally involved in the teaching and learning of signs even if the word sign never appears in curriculum and other formal documents or in public announcements and other communications. The Culture of Schools One of the main emphases of this book will be that the contents and processes of the human mind are inextricably bound up in both biology and culture. The apparent impact of culture on mind is that it emphasizes or de-emphasizes various brain-behaviour capacities with which we are born (Fabrega, 1977). The attending question of whether culture actually generates new mental capacities is a controversial one. However, researchers have speculated for several decades that the thoughts, actions, and learnings promoted by culture and assimilated by individuals influence the development, and perhaps even the evolution, of the human brain (e.g., Edelman, 1992; Popper & Eccles, 1977). Because schools are a product of the collective mind, they may be regarded similarly. In this section we shall see how schools as major cultural creations reflect the cultural values of the sponsoring society and constrain individuals to behave in particular kinds of ways. But what do we mean by culture? In 1871, Edward Tylor offered an early important definition of culture as ‘that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man [and woman] as a member of society’ (quoted in Hutchins, 1995, 353). In his famous 1957 definition, Ward Goodenough (in Geertz, 1973, 11) stated that ‘a society’s culture consists of whatever it is one has to know or believe in order to operate in a manner acceptable to its members.’ George Kneller (in Roberts, 1976, 2) gave a more extended definition of culture: By culture as such we mean all the ways of life that have been evolved by [humans] in society. By a particular culture we mean the total shared way of life of a given people comprising modes of thinking, acting and feeling

12 Teaching Adolescents which are expressed in religion, law, language, art, and custom as well as material products such as houses, clothes and tools. From another perspective we may regard a culture as the learned and shared behavior, thoughts, acts and feelings of a certain people together with their artifacts – learned in a sense that this behavior is transmitted socially rather than genetically, shared in that it is ascribed to by the whole population or some part of it.

Hutchins (1995) objects strongly to any definition that sees cultures only as collections of things to be acquired or as sets of ideas to be operated on by individual cognitive processes. He argues: Culture is not any collection of things, whether tangible or abstract. Rather, it is a process. It is a human cognitive process that takes place both inside and outside the minds of people. It is the process in which our everyday cultural practices are enacted. I am proposing an integrated view of human cognition in which a major component of culture is a cognitive process ... and cognition is a cultural process. (354)

I support Hutchins’s emphasis. I contend that semiosis in the human mind is an ongoing process that mutually links the individual with culture, while developing both. Another view of culture was provided by the eminent anthropologist Clifford Geertz (1973, 5): The concept of culture I espouse ... is essentially a semiotic one. Believing, with Max Weber, that man [or woman] is an animal suspended in webs of significance he [or she] has spun, I take culture to be those webs, and the analysis of it to be therefore not an experimental science in search of law but an interpretive one in search of meaning.

Later, Geertz adds to his definition: [Culture is] an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic form by means of which [humans] communicate, perpetuate and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life. (89)

In general I accept Geertz’s view, although I have four reservations about his latter addition. First, he does not mention that the exchange of meanings is a two-way process between person and culture that affects

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 13

both (cf. Lemke, 1990). Second, he confines cultural meanings to symbols only instead of to signs of all kinds. That is, many cultural meanings are drawn from signs that have yet to be rendered into symbolic form, such as greeting practices (e.g., handshakes and hugs) and most emotional displays (e.g., grief, anger, elation). Third, culture is an assimilation of signs rather than a direct transmission, and this assimilation occurs when one engages in cultural practices. Fourth, Geertz’s definition, unlike those of Kneller and Hutchins, is an abstract one that lacks any reference to the specific cultural practices that give meaning to signs and symbols (see Bourdieu, 1977; Ratner, 1996). From Hutchins, we see culture as an ongoing, semiotic process in which human cognition is a vital component, and vice versa: cognition is semiosis in which culture plays an integral role. From Geertz, with the qualifications just noted, we see culture and cognition as based on the mutual assimilation and growth of shared signs within specific cultural practices. A key premise of this book is that all human beings are deeply embedded in their own culture and are products of those cultures. One implication of this is that when diverse cultural settings are represented by a teacher and her students in a given classroom, the setting becomes even more complex in terms of the possible number of influences, interpretations, and meanings. Each culture provides a set of sometimes disorganized experiences, for which – to draw from Geertz’s (1973) semiotic perspective – signs and symbols are the medium of exchange for deriving and assigning meaning. Relevant signs and symbols often vary from culture to culture in terms of their forms and the interpretations assigned to them. These differences can occur in both cognitive and affective domains and can result in different meanings being ascribed to the ‘same’ phenomenon. The important role of meaning for education, teaching, and learning will be revisited often in the following chapters. Within any given culture the effects of socialization and enculturation are presumed to occur from the time of birth, at the latest. Over the past two decades some compelling evidence has supported the notion that the tiny infant is already engaged in highly sophisticated communication with his or her caregiver, usually the mother. This evidence points to a rhythmic dance taking place between infant and mother long before verbal abilities are displayed by the young person (see Lock, 1978, for a collection of some of the earlier work on this topic). In fact, this non-verbal communication is seen to be the precursor of, and essential for, the normal development of language, which follows by a number of months the non-verbal indices. Thus it can be seen that from the very beginning of

14 Teaching Adolescents

life human beings are inundated with the signs of their cultures. Later on, children spend much of their lives in a contrived setting called school, which has been created to promote the learning of the signs and symbols that are especially valued by the particular society and culture of the day. A number of principles are seen to guide the development of socialization within a given culture. Several such guidelines were outlined by Herzog (in Roberts, 1976, 11) for the promotion of primate (including human) socialization: (1) the primacy of early learning; (2) the critical function of play as the major channel for acquisition of information; (3) the importance of the social group and its geographical niche as the actual learning environment; (4) the central role of peers and slightly older playmates as the most influential socializers; (5) the existence of a period of freedom from adult responsibility; (6) the importance of all-at-once learning as a result of fortuitous or arranged intense emotional experience; (7) the prevalence of environmentally embedded learning and the relative paucity of direct and deliberate instruction.

Unfortunately, most modern societies violate these principles where school design and formal schooling are concerned. For example, play in school is often devalued by some school agents and by even larger numbers of parents as irrelevant to the essential purposes of schooling. Also, schools often do not support in formal ways the potentially positive influences that peers have on one’s learning and behaviour (for example, helping one’s classmate could be termed as disruptive or even as cheating). Of course societies are concerned about what goes on in their schools. To this end, some major studies have been conducted over the past twenty-five years to isolate factors that contribute to ‘good’ secondary schools (e.g, King & Peart, 1990; Rutter, et al., 1979; Tye, 1985). In their comprehensive study of twelve high schools in inner London in the 1970s, Rutter and colleagues (1979) found that several variables were linked to their outcome measures of academic achievement and frequency of problems involving delinquency, attendance, and discipline. The better schools exhibited clear curriculum goals, reward systems that encouraged excellence, high expectations for behaviours and achievements, high involvement in extracurricular activities, and teacher collegiality. It is interesting that many of these indicators could be considered non-academic indices.

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 15

In a study of thirteen American high schools, Tye (1985) examined two sets of outcomes involving student and teacher satisfaction and student preparation for entering post-secondary work or education. In this investigation, better schools showed stimulating classroom climates, concern for the social dimension, leadership that promoted teacher and student involvement in decision making, high participation in extracurricular programs, and teacher job satisfaction. In their examination of fourteen secondary schools in Ontario, King and Peart (1990) found support for a model with five factors that contributed to making a good school. These variables were: (a) leadership that actively encouraged teacher, student, and parent involvement in the school; (b) a positive student-teacher relationship; (c) a wide range of extracurricular activities in which student and teacher roles were clearly defined; (d) student services that met a variety of individual student needs; and (e) a flexible curricular program that encouraged excellence and that recognized a wide range of postsecondary goals. The first three variables contributed mainly to school atmosphere; the last two were associated with student achievement. All three of the above studies showed that a preoccupation with students’ in-school academic achievement – which is taken as the standard measure of ‘excellence’ – was insufficient to create a secondary school that is widely recognized as being ‘good.’ Other research has investigated the effects of school size as measured by the number of students in attendance (e.g., Cotton, 1996; Lee, Bryk, & Smith, 1993). Schools vary in size from several hundred to several thousand students. According to the 1963 Guinness Book of World Records, DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx, New York, holds the record as the largest high school in the world with an enrolment of twelve thousand students in 1934 (Allen, 2002). However, for enhanced academic performances, fewer incidents of violence, fewer discipline problems, greater involvement in extracurricular activities, and stronger peer relationships, smaller high schools (with no more than one hundred students per grade level) are superior to their larger kin (Vander Ark, 2002). When it comes to secondary schools, bigger is not better. The signs of school extend to its various kinds and levels of organization (see Lee, Bryk & Smith, 1993). For example, secondary schools tend to be organized around privileged domains of knowledge, or subjects. Thus, you will be teaching algebra, or English, or drama, or industrial physics. Schools are also segregated by level of knowledge: you will be teaching Grade 8 mathematics or Grade 11 English. This latter form of segregation is usually accompanied by age-grading, where, for example, most fifteen-year-olds are kept together in classes. Also, schools are

16 Teaching Adolescents

usually organized from the top down. Within the school (many layers of organization also lie outside the school in the formal education system), a principal or head teacher runs the show, often supported by assistant principals or vice principals. Department heads of subject areas constitute the next level down. Below this level are the teachers, who translate the decisions of principals, vice principals, and department heads into action at the classroom level. At the bottom of the hierarchy are the students, who are the main products of the educational system. You are being reminded here of how schools are organized, not because you don’t know these things, but because it is important to remember the organizational constraints that operate whenever you meet adolescents in classrooms. A number of these constraints, both implicit and explicit, are addressed in this chapter and the ones that follow. From these constraints, we can see how cultural priorities affect human environments and how schools have come to be the way they are. Schools in Historical Perspective The creation of schools to meet prevailing cultural requirements through the use of the dominant signs and sign systems of the day is not a recent phenomenon. Once our early ancestors ceased to have a purely nomadic existence and were able to stay in one place long enough to create and maintain permanent records of their times, the idea of passing cultural knowledge to succeeding generations in formal settings became a realistic one. It now appears that the first formal schools with direct relevance for modern Western education followed shortly after the invention of cuneiform writing in Sumer, the southern division of ancient Babylonia (see Bowen, 1972; Kramer, 1969). As is the case today, the earliest Western schools reflected the cultural priorities of the time regarding who was permitted or encouraged to attend school and which subjects were studied. The next few pages offer a glimpse of the earliest schools in the Middle East, Greece, Rome, and other parts of Europe. The point here is to show how similar and how different these schools were to our own. The main similarity, of course, is that in all eras, schools were shaped to meet the cultural demands of the day. the middle east In the earliest periods, formal schooling was almost exclusively the preserve of the temple and palace. The common labourer did not engage

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 17

in any scholarship; in the absence of books and ballpoint pens, such endeavours were left to the rich or the religious. Yet it appears that one thousand years later, at the height of the Mesopotamian culture (from 2000–1500 BC), scribes no longer needed to be religious persons, and formal learning was becoming less of an exclusive preserve. In addition, some evidence shows that the scribes of this time were not necessarily male and that they most likely came from wealthy families. Perhaps it goes without saying that schooling during this era was neither universal nor compulsory. From a psychosemiotic perspective, the curriculum of the later Mesopotamian schools would not be entirely foreign in nature to those of us familiar with today’s schools (although obviously, it would have been foreign in its specific content). The curriculum consisted of such matter as the creation of mathematical tables, the study of Sumerian grammar (the language of scholarship came to differ from the vernacular languages of Akkad and later Babylonia), and the copying of the culture’s existing myths and tales. Even during this period, then, we see the essence of content that has come to be known as ‘the basics,’ or as ‘the three R’s’ – reading, writing, and arithmetic. During this age – and even into the present time in some schools – a fourth R was considered essential to the success of schooling: reproving, supported by the teacher’s frequent use of the rod. The principle instructional strategies of the time probably consisted of complete obedience to the master and a heavy dependence on memory work. Interestingly enough, it seems that one model of teacher training – apprenticeship to a master – was present during this age. The evidence supporting this claim indicates that instruction in specialized areas such as counting or measuring was given by a ‘dubsar’ (literally, a tablet writer) who was assisted by a ‘seshgal’ (a big brother). This suggests that socioreligious power and education was being transformed into the preserve of males, with females excluded deliberately (Eisler, 1987). At about the same time, from about 1800 to 600 BC, parallel social developments were taking place in Egypt. There, the hieroglyphic script had been developed and was being taught to male scribes. Although high priests were initially connected with most scribal activities, civil scribes eventually carried out most non-sacred tasks. These scribes were inevitably linked to the ruling classes, and their vocation enjoyed a substantial amount of prestige. In passing, it appears that our alphabet (the basis of the modern three R’s) did not descend directly from either cuneiform writing or Egyptian

18 Teaching Adolescents

hieroglyphics. Rather, it was probably created in the Middle East by individuals who were aware of these two prior forms of writing but who added important new ideas to lay the basis of our modern writing system. The earliest archaeological evidence that the alphabet was part of formal schooling appears in the sixth century BC, in the form of a schoolboy’s inscription on a staircase in the ancient Palestinian city of Lakhish (Bowen, 1972). Today, this inscription would be called graffiti. greece From about 800 BC on, with the rise of the Greek city-states of Sparta and Athens, schooling came closer to reflecting the cultural priorities of societies beyond the rich or religious and therefore became more accessible to larger numbers of young people (Meyer, 1972). Let us first look briefly at Sparta and its social ideal of the patriot-warrior. Once a young Spartan survived birth, the subsequent scrutiny of a council of elders (sick or otherwise questionable infants were left to die at the foot of Mount Taygetus), and the first seven years of an austere upbringing at home, males were able to look forward to a minor amount of formal schooling and a major amount of training over the next dozen years in the four great virtues of prudence, temperance, fortitude, and obedience (especially obedience). After the age of seven, females were required to stay home, to develop physical prowess (sometimes alongside the males), and later to raise strong and well-disciplined children. From what can be deduced from the rather scanty records created by non-Spartan observers, females were not taught how to read or write. In Athens in its early years, the patriot-warrior ideal was similar to that of Sparta, but over time it took on a different form. After the Persian invaders were routed in 490 BC, the education of Athenian boys aged seven to fourteen emphasized reading, writing, and music (playing the lyre was preferred, while the flute was held in low regard), together with gymnastics and other Olympic sports. The latter forms of training took place mainly from ages fourteen to eighteen. Around this time, we encounter the word that has since evolved in the English ‘school’: schole, from the ancient Greek word for leisure, which was associated at this time with the leisurely pursuit of knowledge for its own sake (times change: this is not how most modern adolescents define school). Various accounts tell us that some modest level of literacy was expected of nearly all of Athens’s male citizens (a category that excluded slaves and resident aliens). Greece’s educational successes in this regard can be estimated from the many inscriptions chiselled on stone in public places for

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 19

the citizens to read, and from the widespread evidence of graffiti, including the initials of Greek mercenaries cut into the temple of Abu Simbel on the Upper Nile in faraway Egypt during the sixth century BC (Bowen, 1972). However, so far as is known, no formal classes existed for Greek women, even though some women became literate. Because Athenian public life was aimed at men only, women had little place and no formal political rights in the society’s mainstream. rome and europe For its first four hundred years, as its influence grew in the Mediterranean world, Rome had no schools. However, once Roman schools came into existence near the end of the third century BC (thanks to the Greek example), both boys and girls from seven to about eleven or twelve – longer, if one had wealthy parents – were eventually able to attend. In school, pupils were provided with a practical curriculum consisting of the basics (especially reproving!), as well as rhetoric and oratory, that lacked the lofty ideals of Greece. Over time, schools fell more and more under imperial scrutiny but received increasing support from the public purse (shades of today, one might say). The last Roman emperors wanted all schools subject to state control – a goal that was not achieved anywhere in the West until eighteenth-century Prussia. The Roman experiment in public schooling ended with the closing of the secular schools by Justinian in AD 529. By that time, Rome’s strength had been sapped by its battles with invaders and control of half the empire had been moved to Constantinople. Over the next thousand years, into the Renaissance, most Western schooling and scholarship moved into the protective arms of the Christian church and the Islamic mosque (e.g., Bowen, 1972; Nakosteen, 1964). Public schooling was not seriously considered again until the time of Martin Luther, who became famous (or infamous) for his views on church reform in 1517. Luther’s preferred elementary curriculum consisted of reading, writing, religion, and gymnastics for about an hour a day. The remainder of the child’s day was to be spent at home learning a useful trade. Gradually, the notion of compulsory and universal schooling spread throughout Europe and, later, the European colonies. Often, reverses followed significant advances in schooling. For example, in 1717, Frederick William of Prussia ordered all parents to send their children to school, established Prussia’s first teacher training school at Stettin, opened eighteen hundred new schools, and supported rules for a national system of

20 Teaching Adolescents

education. However, a succession of weak Prussian rulers dissipated these gains until almost the end of that century. Russian schooling, at least for the well born, was supported by Peter the Great in 1719 and by Catherine the Great in 1764. In the years between those two rulers, and afterwards, formal education at the state level was in sorry condition. By the time of the last czar, Nicholas II, there were both elementary and secondary schools. However, elementary instruction of up to eight or nine years in duration was conducted in huge rooms for classes of upwards of sixty pupils. Secondary education was offered in two streams: the ‘gymnasium.’ which emphasized languages, and was intended for the privileged aiming for universities; and the ‘real school,’ whose common-folk graduates enjoyed far fewer opportunities. Before the French Revolution of 1789, education in France was a privilege reserved for upper-class pupils only. Although much talk and little action characterized education reform immediately after 1789, a number of laws concerning schooling had been passed by 1793. These edicts led to what is even today an extremely centralized education system. Although Napoleon did not contribute to elementary learning during his years in power, he launched a series of educational initiatives; one of these was the creation of the lycée. At these time, this facility emphasized mathematics, physical science, and logic and avoided philosophy and history (the latter subjects could lead to too many questions). Both instructors and students at the lycées laboured under stern military discipline, supported by the use of drums (rather than bells) to open and close the day, to open and close lessons, and to trigger a variety of other activities (Meyer, 1972). As well, in 1808 a system of higher normal schools was established to prepare lycée graduates to teach; these schools exist to this day. In England after 1700, a variety of privately operated schools such as dame schools, charity schools, and Sunday schools existed to educate the country’s young people. Because of the English aversion to national regulation, not until 1870 was elementary schooling demanded and not until 1902 were local governments required to support instruction in subjects beyond the elementary level. (Note that a formal secondary education system was not called for.) School curricula of this time focused on success and fortune in the marketplace rather than on the ancient classics. This too brief overview of the development of Western schooling has had three main purposes: to consider the roots of our present educa-

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 21

Project Trace the development of compulsory schooling in Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia, or the country of your choice, with a special focus on your own region. Describe how schooling has been, and is being, affected by the structure of society in terms of its social stratification, social mobility, ethnicity and racial affiliations. Describe why schools are now structured the way they are and function the way they do (see Goodman [1972] for his comments on the links between culture and learning). Describe how the structure and function of our classrooms might be aversive to students raised in different home cultures. Discuss the form(s) that schooling should take in a modern, pluralistic multicultural society.

tional systems; to touch on how, from the very beginning of schooling, various cultural influences have acted on societies to determine the curricula seen as essential to those societies’ well-being; and to underline the vital role played by signs and sign systems in establishing that which is to be learned in school. Modern cultural practices are no less powerful in using signs to shape citizens’ views of what schooling is and what schooling ought to achieve. Neither teachers nor students can avoid being affected by these signs. Cole (1990) has noted that over the centuries, schooling has always featured these five common elements: 1 Advances in schooling are closely related to the development of large urban centres engaged in trade and advanced means of production. 2 Writing is essential to schooling. 3 Schooling is removed from contexts of practical activity. 4 The adult teacher interacts with large numbers of young learners and is unlikely to have any familial ties with them, making social relations relatively impersonal. 5 The attending value system places educated people above their peers and favours change and discontinuity over tradition and community. These elements have resulted in measurable cognitive differences

22 Teaching Adolescents

Most adolescents are familiar with the many signs of school.

among schooled and unschooled individuals and prompt at least two important questions: Are the cognitive consequences of formal schooling general or specific? And which features of schooling are responsible for the observed effects? The answers to these questions must be understood against the background of broader cultural factors that change over time. Adolescents in School Who or what is an adolescent? In general, we use the term to refer to those individuals who are sometimes children and sometimes adults and whose ages fall between these two categories. Two generations ago, adolescence was considered to begin at thirteen and end at nineteen, and was essentially synonymous with being a teenager. Today, with children reaching puberty earlier than ever and with the need for formal education increasing, we can probably consider the full decade between ten and twenty as adolescence for most young people. However, in some societies there is no adolescence. When anthropologists first realized this, they were surprised to discover that simply by

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 23

Project Imagine that you are a teacher in a classroom. You are now standing in front of twenty-five adolescents. What are you going to do now? From your perspective, what is the most important thing that could happen in the next thirty minutes? What do your answers to these questions tell you about your point of view as a teacher? What are your students thinking about? How might their concerns affect your teaching performance?

going through some tribal rites of passage, an individual turned from a child into an adult. For example, Canadian indigenous groups have tales of boys becoming men by going on the hunt and proving themselves. From accounts such as these, it seems that adolescence is little more than a cultural construct supported by mandates to get young people off the streets, to keep them segregated from other age groups by institutions such as schools, and to inculcate them with specified cultural knowledge. Much of the job of transmitting and creating this knowledge is entrusted to educators based in schools. This is where teachers come in: they are society’s designated agents to work in these schools with these adolescents so that the latter learn the cultural sign systems deemed to matter. So who are these people that teachers spend their days with? And what do teachers do with them? The chapters that follow deal with the many ways that development and learning shape adolescents and the many approaches that teachers take to making everyone’s classroom time as rewarding and productive as possible. Most adolescents in secondary school are already very familiar with the important signs of school. For example, they know about school routines such as homeroom exercises and rotating schedules. They know when one may and may not talk in class. They know which assignments count for marks and which do not. And they know what manner of dress is acceptable to the school administration. Yet these same adolescents will be learning – and sometimes struggling with – signs in a variety of other cultural domains, such as sexuality, ethnicity, drug use, body image, identity, and relationships with parents, siblings, and peers (e.g., Garrod et al., 2002). Naturally, these same issues spill into classrooms and underline the fact that cultural values underlie every human endeavour. Teachers deal with these issues constantly even

24 Teaching Adolescents

though their explicit mandate is to deliver a specific curriculum within a designated time frame. Signs in Teaching The main objective of this book is to outline the essential signs of teaching and their implications for both classroom practice (mainly by the teacher) and classroom learning (mainly by the students). The remainder of this chapter offers a brief introduction to the classroom which you must work and to some signs of the expert teacher. The Culture of Classrooms As a teacher, you will bring a particular perspective to the classrooms in which you teach – a perspective that is uniquely yours. This perspective has been shaped by your multiple successive cultural experiences as a child, an adolescent, and an adult. Your perspective has often been shaped by experiences that perhaps did not seem to have anything to do with education and formal schooling when they occurred. In sum, you enter the classroom as an ever developing cultural creature – along with all the adolescents with whom you will work. The evidence considered so far suggests that like any other social setting, the classroom is a powerful site of socialization and enculturation. As one example, the designated curriculum is a cultural product shaped by many interest groups within government and the educational hierarchy. Indeed, one of the reasons why compulsory schooling was prescribed in the United States during the late 1800s was to make sure that the various immigrant groups arriving in America absorbed American norms and values. Furthermore, classroom interactions and relationships are not all one way – teachers and students influence one another as the school year progresses. The power of the classroom has not gone unnoticed by critics of the present school system. These observers contend that schools and classrooms encourage and reward dependent and passive behaviour in the students and that they have too often restricted the range of voices that should be heard in a mature educational system. Others (e.g., Mehan, 1980) have asked what students need to know about classroom structure and function in order to participate effectively in that setting. These aspects of enculturation – that is, of applying particular meanings to particular signs – and their resulting implications for schooling, will be

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 25

Tips for Teachers Attending to Some Signs of School 1 Note the physical and structural arrangements of the school and classroom, and reflect on their implications for your practice. 2 Think about how time is used at the school. Which projects receive more time, and which less? 3 Find out how the school budget is distributed among sports teams and other co-curricular activities. What are the implicit messages in this distribution? 4 Locate the textbooks that have been mandated for your subject. Determine and think about whose views are represented in these texts and whose are not. 5 Learn which cultural backgrounds are represented by your students, and reflect on how knowledge of these might help your teaching.

examined at greater length in later chapters. One aim of this book is to promote teachers’ understandings of the situation in which they and their students find themselves. Both teachers and students bring with them full histories of past experiences in other cultural settings and some expectations of what might occur in the future. These past experiences and present expectations inject differing types and amounts of meaning into the current classroom situation. These various sets of meanings are more important than any physical record that could be captured by videotape or written records. Because of the powerful effects of past experiences on human beings, and of the resulting meanings that are attached to objects and events, the view that objective people gather in one place to learn totally new information is both misleading and false. Rather, both teachers and students are engaged in the interacting processes of creating culture, creating new knowledge, and creating themselves. Signs of effective classroom functioning have been described in countless books and articles, whether the focus is on class management and behaviour (see chapter 3) or on testing and measurement (see chapter 6). Let us look at two examples. First, the idea of the ‘competent’ student

26 Teaching Adolescents

has been addressed by researchers (e.g., Mehan, 1980). Studies have shown clearly that students differ in their capacity to understand classroom dynamics and unspoken classroom rules. Thanks to their knowledge of specific cultural and classroom signs, some students are able to navigate through classroom life easily and well. Others struggle. Unfortunately, many of those lacking knowledge of often implicit school rules belong to minority or other cultural groups that subscribe to other rules of behaviour. The result is that too many of these individuals are seen as less intelligent or more disruptive than students who follow the same set of rules assumed by the teacher. To illustrate, a great deal of classroom instruction is characterized by a particular cycle of teacher–student interaction, as follows: teacher initiation (‘Bob, what is the capital of Italy?’), student response (‘Rome’), and teacher evaluation (‘Correct. That is very good’). Class members who are in tune with this initiation-responseevaluation (I-R-E) cycle are likely to be considered as ‘good’ students (Mehan, 1979a). Other standard classroom practices do not serve the learning mission well, but are solidly entrenched in schooling practices and are very difficult to change. A number of these less than optimal practices are described in the now classic book by John Holt (1964, revised 1982), How Children Fail. Here we see multiple examples of instructional practices that serve to discourage long-term learning and love for the subject – in this case, mathematics. One situation gives the flavour of Holt’s message: [The headmistress] particularly urged me to visit the arithmetic class of her fourth-grade teacher, who had been there for many years and was generally felt to be a jewel among teachers and the pride of the school. I went. Soon after I arrived the class began. The children had done some multiplication problems and, in turn, were reading answers from their marked papers. All went smoothly until, right after a child had read his answer, another child raised his hand. ‘What is it, Jimmy?’ the teacher asked, with just the faintest hint in her voice that this interruption could not be really necessary. ‘Well, I didn’t get that answer,’ said Jimmy, ‘I got ...’ but before he could say more, the teacher said, ‘Now, Jimmy, I’m sure we don’t want to hear any wrong answers.’ And that was the last word out of Jimmy. (1964, 179)

Note the many signs of what students should do and feel in this arithmetic class. In the first place, the teacher is very highly regarded by her peers – thus, her actions should be understood by students as correct and exemplary. Then we have the many signs of how class should proceed:

Semiotics of Schooling and Teaching 27

quickly, on track, and on schedule, with no apparent regard for how well students are understanding the task at hand or how further discussion of the problem could advance the knowledge of most of the students present. The ‘hint in her voice’ is another sign for the astute student about which behaviours gain approval, or not, from this teacher. Of course, her verbal direction to Jimmy is very clear. A rather remarkable (and discouraging) fact is that today, more than forty years later, John Holt could write the same book. Signs of the Expert Teacher Accomplished teachers are proficient in a variety of the signs of school and classroom and are dedicated to teaching adolescents about the specific array of signs characteristic of their particular disciplines. These teachers are aware that nothing in school is culture or sign free. They are constantly asking questions about the views expressed by curriculum materials, politicians, school administrators, peers, and students. In these ways they are ‘reading the signs’ that permit them to understand what is being said as well as what is not being said. Additional details about how expert teachers read classrooms and students are presented in chapter 9. In this chapter, by way of introduction, we have seen how central and pervasive signs are to meaning making – that is, to the making sense of everything that is happening in and around schools. To summarize this chapter, a semiotic perspective in general and a psychosemiotic perspective in particular can be used to understand educational and schooling enterprises and the teaching of adolescents. I have defined several key concepts: sign, semiotics, applied semiotics, and psychosemiotics. The sign adopted here is the triadic sign presented more than a century ago by Charles Peirce. A brief historical overview showed that schools have always been in the business of transmitting signs, especially those linked to the so-called three R’s. Most adolescents are already familiar with many cultural signs, including those involved in success at school. The principal responsibility of the teacher is to bring an explicit awareness of signs to everyday teaching practice. This theme will be developed throughout the rest of this book.

Selected Reading Brothers, L. (1997). Friday’s footprint: How society shapes the human mind. New York: Oxford University Press.

28 Teaching Adolescents The author advances a strong case on how society and culture direct the development of the human mind. In this view, there is no disembodied cognition maturing independently of outside influences. Bruner, J. (1996). The culture of education. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. This book offers an important statement concerning the relationships among culture, education, schooling, and the human mind. Chapters 1 and 8 are especially recommended for the beginning teacher with limited time for supplementary reading. Corrington, R.S. (1993). An introduction to C.S. Peirce: Philosopher, semiotician, and ecstatic naturalist. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield. An accessible source for the new reader of Peirce and semiotic ideas. Some key notions are described in a concise and informative way. Danesi, M. (2004). Messages, signs, and meanings. Toronto: Canadian Scholars’ Press. A very readable introduction to semiotics for those new to the discipline. Some basic terms are explained and links to aspects of popular culture are described. Eisler, R. (1987). The chalice and the blade: Our history, our future. San Francisco: Harper and Row. This book, widely read when first published, constitutes an important look at how cultural world views affect the nature and development of society. An important perspective for teachers trying to understand how broader social movements impact on our everyday lives. Smith, H.A. (2001). Psychosemiotics. New York: Peter Lang. The book describes psychosemiotics, together with its links to cognition and semiotics, and the inseparable relationship between biology and culture. Seven signways through which we derive meanings from cultural phenomena are described. Chapter 8 presents implications for education.

2 Signs in Communication

I Have Feelings, Too At the beginning of the year I had to learn many things about you, and I had to learn fast. The older kids had already told me about you. Some things they told me had me a little scared of you at first. I was especially worried about things they said you did to get someone’s attention. I was told that sometimes you would jump up from your seat real fast and tell the class to be quiet! They said that at other times you would just stand in front of the room with your arms folded and stare at the class or at someone in the class. ‘But,’ the older kids had told me, ‘if she ever stares at you and you don’t see her staring she will come back to your desk. When she does that, look out, you’re in real trouble!’ I have learned that you do other things when you want someone’s attention. There are other gestures or looks that you give to let someone know you want their attention fast. These gestures and looks aren’t as frightening as standing in front of the room and staring real hard, but, they do cause people to straighten up in a hurry. You have a way of cutting your eyes around at someone who is acting up. When you do this you don’t stare. It is just a quick glance that says, ‘you better settle down right now!’ There are other times when you look at people this way and clear your throat in a certain way to let them know you want their attention. You often walk around the room to get close to someone who is talking too much. The nearer you get, the quieter that person gets. We have all learned that we had better not talk too much when you are too close to us. Whitfield (1977, 189–91)




30 Teaching Adolescents

Teaching as Communicating in Signs In chapter 1, schooling and teaching were interpreted as semiotic endeavours grounded in semiotics, the science of signs. Particular emphasis was placed on the subdiscipline of psychosemiotics, the semiotics of human cognition. This chapter explores an area of psychosemiotics that lies at the very heart of teaching: communication. Indeed, teaching can be equated with communicating, in that one who cannot communicate in any way with others cannot teach. And communication in all of its manifestations is entirely dependent on signs. In the following pages, various signs of communication will be examined for their impact on classroom practice. Although most of us think immediately of verbal signs when discussing communication, a great deal of research suggests that non-verbal signs are much more important than language for most human interactions. The weight of that research will be discussed below. The chapter begins by offering evidence that some specialized rules distinguish communication in classrooms from communication in other settings. The same evidence also suggests that it is important for students to learn what those rules are in order to function effectively in class. Some aspects of verbal communication are then considered, with an emphasis on the heavily used classroom technique of questioning. Most of the rest of the chapter examines the more powerful and pervasive non-verbal signs that occupy every classroom. Seven categories of nonverbal signs are described, and some relevant links to teacher expectations and cultural differences are examined. The important message underlying the chapter is that in order to become a good teacher and classroom manager (the topic of chapter 3), one must first become a good communicator and, it follows, a good reader and user of signs. Later, in chapters 4 and 5, I will describe an alternative and more obviously psychological way to comprehend the different kinds of signs to which we are attuned both biologically and culturally. At that point, the close correspondence between the categories of signs outlined in the different chapters should become clear. Defining Communication What do we mean when we talk about communication? Without getting into a prolonged analysis of the term at this point, communication is taken here to mean the sign process by which the recipients of acts or messages, whether or not these have been sent deliberately, derive meanings that in some way affect their subsequent interpretations and, likely, behaviours. Thus, communi-

Signs in Communication 31

cation is grounded in the interpretations resulting from the sending, emitting, and receiving of signs of all kinds. In this way, communication has to do with our interactions with others and with how we make sense of our worlds. It is important to emphasize that this definition of communication extends to how people are in their dealings with others and is not restricted to the usual narrow definition that speaks only of transmitting information from one person or location to another. The formal study of communication consists in examining its various elements and the ways in which these elements interact with one other to produce comprehension and understanding among interacting persons or machines (the sophisticated communication systems of non-human animals will not be considered in this book). Communication lies at the heart of our humanity and is vitally important to all of us both inside and outside school. During every day of our lives, we communicate constantly to a variety of people in a variety of ways. At school, effective teaching of all kinds is often described in terms of effective communication and communicative competence. The chapter’s opening vignette points to a range of communicative elements or signs from the teacher; these are ‘read’ by the students and strongly affect their understandings and behaviours. This chapter highlights some important communicative signs that support the effective classroom performances of both teachers and students. Communication in the Classroom Research over many years has shown clearly that the classroom is a peculiar sociocultural setting with distinctive rules of communication and functioning (e.g., Boocock, 1978; Gump, 1980; Weinstein, 1991). For example, Paul Gump (1980) used an ecological perspective to examine assorted school settings in terms of their physical milieu, their human components (number, kind, mix), and their unique ‘standing patterns’ of behaviour, which included action structures and programs. The implication of Gump’s analysis was that simple general statements on how to communicate effectively in school did not do justice to the number and complexity of the settings found there. This research has been complemented more recently by studies on situated cognition (e.g., Barab & Plucker, 2002; Greeno, 1998), which show that how people function and what they learn in one situation does not necessarily transfer to other situations – an issue to be explored later in this book. In her detailed examination, Carol Weinstein (1991) proposed that the typical classroom situation is characterized by five main types of

32 Teaching Adolescents

activity segments: recitation, teacher-directed small groups, sharing time, seatwork, and student-directed small groups. Each of these activity segments can be defined in terms of its unique social structure and communicative norms, as follows. recitation Recitation mainly involves short, rapid question answer sequences between the teacher and the students. More accurately, these sequences can be described as teacher initiation–student reply–teacher evaluation, or IRE (Mehan 1979a). The effective teacher controls pacing, content, and participation but must also ensure wide and fair student participation, provide feedback, maintain the lesson’s flow and momentum, allocate turns smoothly, and cope with unexpected responses. For their part, students must know when to raise their hands and when to respond orally or chorally. They must also know how to tell from teacher’s evaluative remarks whether their responses are correct, partially correct, or incorrect. Students who wish to initiate interactions must identify breaks in the successive IRE sequences. In addition, during the recitation segment, different levels of communicative status may be established among students according to how, and how often, they respond to the teacher’s initiatives (Morine-Dershimer, 1983). teacher-directed small groups This activity segment is similar to recitation in that the teacher initiates interaction, directs activities, and determines who will participate in each small group. Thus the communicative competencies students require in order to function well in the teacher-directed small group are similar to those required in recitation. But in addition, the teacher makes critical decisions about which students will be assigned to which small group. This added structural variable has substantial implications for how students perceive and interact with one another in class, especially if the students are grouped according to perceived ability. Research reviewed by Weinstein (1991) shows that ability grouping favours the higher-achievement groups by promoting more positive working environments, higher-quality teacher-student interactions, and more substantial academic tasks. sharing time Sharing time is linked closely with elementary schools, where most of the relevant research has been conducted. However, secondary schools can make use of this activity segment as well. Here students are provided with

Signs in Communication 33

what is often the only opportunity they have to speak at some length on topics they have selected themselves. Nevertheless, classroom norms continue to prevail in terms of teachers’ expectations and evaluative criteria, acceptable topics, and appropriate forms of student presentation (e.g., Cazden, 1986). Most participation in sharing time soon settles into a steady ritual that students feel obliged to follow. This activity segment may pose particular problems for students who are culturally different or unable to participate easily or well (and possibly labelled ‘disabled’), or who share experiences that the teacher cannot relate to or are simply reticent about speaking. That said, even very young children are able to master some formidable challenges. For example, Gallas (1994), in an enchanting chapter, reported how a six-year-old minority girl who came from a difficult family situation, and who could hardly speak when she first came to class, was able to overcome any situational constraints and persuade her classmates to adapt to her approach to sharing. seatwork The structure of this activity segment is such that students are normally required to work on individual tasks without interacting with either the teacher or classmates. Thus students are expected to behave as though they are alone when in fact they are not. Seatwork seems to be characterized by a cycle of task engagement, decreasing attention and increasing noise, teacher intervention, and return to task engagement. During periods of non-engagement, students are often permitted to doodle, converse, comb their hair, and watch one another as long as they are quiet. The sets of communicative capabilities required by students during seatwork involve socially appropriate ways to solicit teacher or peer help and to provide peer aid. The teacher’s attention is usually gained through some form of non-verbal signal (Merritt, 1982). A student is mostly likely to get a peer’s attention if the request is on task and direct, seen as sincere, made to a specific person, and revised if not successful initially (e.g., Wilkinson & Spinelli, 1983). However, as we might guess, not all students are equally adept at accomplishing these ends. Other research has found that students who engage in the highest levels of task-related peer interaction tend to be the most competent at communication. They also learn the most from the curriculum and enjoy the highest social status among their peers (E.G. Cohen, 1984). student-directed small groups The fifth activity segment described by Weinstein (1991) is the student-

34 Teaching Adolescents

directed small groups. This is usually referred to as cooperative learning (e.g., Slavin, 1990). Currently these segments are not often seen in schools, likely for two main reasons: the teacher must relinguish control of course content, lesson pacing, and patterns of student participation; and students must learn new rules in order to accommodate relatively autonomous group work. These norms include listening to one another, allocating turns for speaking, managing time and tasks, and evaluating peers’ contributions. Many students accustomed to more dependent forms of schooling have neither the will nor the skills to function in small groups without specific relevant instruction. However, research such as that reported by Slavin (1990) has shown that cooperative learning tends to promote positive race relations, prosocial development, and an enhanced classroom climate for all students in a variety of settings (see chapter 9 for a more extensive treatment of cooperative learning). Racial minority, academically handicapped, and socially isolated students have all benefited from cooperative interactions with other students. To close this section, the case has been made here that the classroom is a multifaceted sociocultural situation with complex and often tacit rules of communication that vary from one activity segment to the next. Teachers and students who perform well in these changing contexts know and use relevant communicative tactics and, in these ways, demonstrate cultural communicative competence within the classroom setting (Erickson & Shultz, 1981). An important indicator of communicative competence for teachers is their ability to negotiate various understandings with their students, as negotiation is an especially important part of classroom management and discipline (see chapter 3). In general, it seems that communicative competence is related to one’s ability to encode and decode non-verbal cues, especially facial ones (Feldman, Philippot, & Custrini, 1991). So, let us now sharpen our focus by examining some specific aspects of communication that promote effective classroom communication and that involve both verbal and non-verbal dimensions. Verbal Signs Most of the existing research on classroom communication has focused on discourse, the oral verbal component of communication in teaching. From your own experience you are undoubtedly aware that classrooms are highly verbal places, with a strong emphasis on written and espe-

Signs in Communication 35

cially spoken language. This state of affairs led Ned Flanders in 1963 to posit the law of two-thirds (reported by Dunkin & Biddle, 1974). According to this law, two-thirds of all class time is devoted to talk, two-thirds of the talking is done by the teacher, and two-thirds of the teacher talk is spent on direct influence. Whether or not you agree with Flanders’s law, most modern classrooms continue to place a heavy emphasis on discourse. The implicit message, or sign, is that talk is the most highly valued form of human activity in the classroom. The Limitations of Discourse However, there are at least three problems with focusing exclusively on discourse. First, it has been found that oral language contributes only a small portion of the total information that is contained in a communicative exchange between two individuals. At one extreme, Mehrabian (1971) found that in resolving inconsistent messages, people acquired only 7 per cent of their total meaning from words alone. In fact, the bulk of the meaning derived from most social verbal messages was obtained from such factors as voice volume and tempo, facial expression, and body posture. In discussing the role of embodiment in human interaction, Goodwin (2000, 1489) underlined that ‘talk itself contains multiple sign systems with alternative properties.’ As well, Key (1980) points out that language is used less for information exchange than for establishing and maintaining relationships. Indeed, recent classroom studies have confirmed just how little verbal elements are used for information exchange and just how much these same elements are immersed in a host of nonverbal components (see a comprehensive review by Cazden, 1986). The message is clear: we use signs of many kinds, not just the verbal, to establish the meaning of any evolving situation. A second problem with discourse is its holistic, constructivist (see chapter 6), and functional nature; outside clearly specified contexts, this results in indeterminate meanings (e.g., Shuy, 1987). That is, no given word or sentence has a single meaning once it has been stripped of its context. For example, the statement ‘Joe, sit down’ can be uttered in many situations, with many different tones of voice, and with very different meanings (take a minute now to consider some the possibilities). In addition, discourse goes well beyond the simple transfer of decontextualized information to include speakers’ roles, goals, identities, and life experiences (Duranti & Goodwin, 1992). As one example of the latter assertion, suppose a teacher is asked, ‘How long have you been teaching?’ The pure

36 Teaching Adolescents

informational response might be ‘Ten years,’ stated in a totally neutral tone and at a typical conversational pace. However, the typical response is more likely to resemble one of the following: ‘Ten l-o-n-g years,’ or ‘Ten years’ (providing an implicit comparison with other responses), or ‘I’ve been dodging the kids for ten years now.’ Similarly, it can be shown that much of the compelling discourse taking place in classrooms displays personal involvement by the participants (Gumperz, 1981). A related general issue involving the distinction between utterance and text can be raised at this point. Many years ago the Russian literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975) introduced the idea of the utterance as the basic element of linguistic interaction; he did not believe that it separated the self from others and from any so-called independent form of language. This position has since been supported by many others, including David Olson (1977, 1994), who acknowledges that written language (text) cannot represent many aspects of spoken language (utterance) from which people derive meaning. However Olson (1977) has also contended that increasingly, meaning can be represented by written prose statements and that the goal of schooling is to transform students’ primary language capabilities from utterance to text. A more extreme interpretation of this claim is that almost all information worth knowing can be stated in written form. Even if teachers accept this position (and many do not), discourse by itself is inadequate to represent the full range of signs from which meaning is drawn in any communicational exchange. A third problem with focusing exclusively on discourse is related to the first: the classroom is an artificial environment in which special rules of talk hold. This point was made well by Mehan (1979b), from whose work the following example is adapted: teacher: What time is it, Denise? denise: 2:30. teacher: Very good, Denise. teacher: What time is it, Denise? denise: 2:30. teacher: Thank you, Denise. The first question-answer sequence is a typical instructional exchange between teacher and student that evaluates the student’s response (that is, the I-R-E sequence discussed earlier). The second sequence is an

Signs in Communication 37

exchange between a teacher and someone she knows, and might occur in the street or the shopping mall as easily as in school. An I-R-E sequence such as the first exchange, if it took place away from school, would bring stares from Denise and doubts about the teacher’s mental well-being. Another unique set of classroom rules involves the topic to be discussed. It is the teacher who determines which subject is to be talked about and how long the discussion will continue on that particular topic. This social norm is in sharp contrast to typical behaviour outside the classroom, where any member of a social group may raise almost any topic (although the topic is often related to what has just been discussed) and the focus of discussion can change at any time. Furthermore, in the classroom, students are usually not permitted to recall a topic that is not under current class discussion, even though we engage constantly in this kind of instant recall-relate during normal conversations. The latter point is illustrated by the following example: teacher: All right, class, what else can we say about England’s relationship with Spain during the 1850s? student: Oh, by the way, Ms Forbes, do you remember when we were talking last week about Napoleon’s actions just before the Battle of Waterloo? Well, last night I saw a television program on the life of Josephine, and do you know that during this time Napoleon was also planning to ...! Yet another unique aspect of classroom verbal behaviour is that almost all the questioning takes place in one direction: from teacher to student. Questions are not expected to go from student to teacher, even though most teachers claim to want students’ questions. Instead, student questions are apt to elicit a variety of teacher reactions such as impatience (‘Can we hold on that! We’ll be considering that topic next week!), annoyance (‘But I went over that yesterday! Weren’t you listening?), or lack of understanding (‘Well I just said that ...’). Questioning Questions have become a main stock in trade for many teachers. However, the effects of questioning on learning can be uncertain, and not everyone asks questions well. There are at least two types of instructional questions in common classroom use: information questions, for which the correct answer is not already known, and elicitation questions, for which the

38 Teaching Adolescents

teacher knows the answer before she asks it (Shuy, 1987). Unfortunately, too many questions exist at the lower level and thus require only a student playback of material presented previously, and most are elicitation (or false) questions for which the teacher seeks only a few magic words from the students present. No wonder, then, that question asking has become an important part of the game called ‘school’ – one that most teachers and students play but about which members of both groups are sometimes cynical. This situation is especially unsettling for students from ethnic groups (such as Aboriginal peoples) whose members do not ask elicitation questions. These parents are more apt to ask ‘What’s that like?’ instead of ‘What’s that?’ and, furthermore, to teach their children to not answer personal questions from strangers such as ‘Where do you live?’ (e.g., Crago, Annahatak, & Ningiuruvik, 1993; Heath, 1980). In a careful analysis of the effects of questions in different job settings, Dillon (1982) found that only in education did practitioners believe that the use of questions enhanced cognitive, affective, and expressive aptitudes. Yet, the research reviewed by Dillon was weighted against these beliefs and even suggested that questions may serve to depress rather than stimulate the expression of student thoughts. Other reviews (e.g., Redfield & Rousseau, 1981) suggest that questions promote student achievement but only when the questions are higher-level ones that probe beyond the information given. On the other hand, Ormrod’s (2003) synthesis of studies on questioning suggests that lower-level factual questions offer five benefits to the classroom teacher: they determine students’ prior knowledge and likely misconceptions about a topic; they promote students’ attention to the lesson; they provide information about whether students are learning the topic; they help students monitor their own understanding so that they can decide whether or not to ask for further help or clarification, and they serve as a review of material studied earlier. One hopes that in a supportive classroom atmosphere, the lesson can quickly proceed to the point where the students are asking higher-level questions that promote everyone’s thinking. It is apparent, then, that questioning has its plusses and minuses and that beginning teachers should not simply leap into the classroom to perpetuate unthinkingly and unknowingly some of the drawbacks of questioning to both communication and learning. To serve as a basic guide in this regard, some rules and guidelines on questioning are presented in the Focal Problem box.

Signs in Communication 39

Focal Problem Questioning Why do teachers ask so many questions of their students? • a belief that the practice is good pedagogy • interest in the answers • to make the students ‘think’ • to teach students to self-question and thus help direct their own learning What types of questions do teachers ask? • Personal questions – asked when engaged in conversation with students – asked because answer unknown – it is important to listen closely to the students’ answers • Questions to check on comprehension or knowledge – to get quick feedback about what students might have learned (crisply use the basic interrogatives: who, what, where, when, how, why) – to uncover some common student misunderstandings – to guide teaching • Questions to advance the lesson – a series of questions in which each builds on the last, usually extracting factual information – such questions are difficult (the teacher must know the content) and should be written in lesson plan – questions should not become guessing games in which students try to guess what is in the teacher’s head • Socratic questioning or dialogue – as in Socrates’ dialogue with the slave boy, who is led to discover the area of a square – used to help students make discoveries from what they already know – often used in the teaching of concepts – requires thought on the part of the teacher and careful use of instances and non-instances (or examples and counter-examples)

40 Teaching Adolescents

• Divergent questions – questions to which there are many answers (or no ready answers), and for which the teacher has no answer code – often used in early stages of problem solving for open-ended problems – in ‘brainstorming’ sessions, the teacher gives explicit instructions that many and varied answers are expected; these are accepted non-judgmentally (later on, the value of the answers can be weighed by everyone present) – often used when the emphasis is on creative thinking; these questions may begin with expressions such as ‘what if ...’ or ‘how many different ways ...’ • Evaluation questions – questions that ask students to judge the merits of an idea, to offer opinions, or to apply standards – can be challenging questions that force the students to work thoughtfully on their answers – require criteria that have been generated by the teacher or the students How can teachers match their questioning to their teaching? • What thinking are the students supposed to do? • What should the students be learning: facts, concepts, skills, principles, or attitudes? • What is the teacher’s priority in asking questions: to ascertain prior knowledge, to gain insight into personality, to determine learning needs? What are some dos and don’ts for questions and answers? Do ... • listen actively • give time for student responses (e.g., five seconds, which seems forever at first) • ask the question, then name the student • avoid questions that can be answered ‘yes/no’ Don’t ... • put the student down for his/her answer • get into the habit of repeating the answer • ask the inattentive student • use fill-in-the-blank kinds of questions

Signs in Communication 41

How should teachers respond to students’ answers? • Different responses for different kinds of answers – If answer is quick and correct, simply accept it. – If answer is correct but hesitant, tell why the answer is correct. – If answer is partially or completely wrong, do not let the misunderstanding go uncorrected; probe for more information, simplify the question, review previous steps, or reteach. – If answer is wrong or flippant, simply correct it and go on; don’t draw attention to it. (You might use a wrong answer to make an instructional point, but do not use it to put the student down). • Probing to help students think more deeply and to increase their critical awareness – Seek further clarification and explanation. – Ask the student to be critical of some aspect of the answer. – Refocus; relate to something else; give implications. How can teachers encourage students to answer questions? • Show respect; care about the answer (listen to it!). • Distribute and tailor questions. • Give encouragement as well as positive statements. • Model curiosity; ask authentic questions. • Allow time for students to wonder and ask. • Encourage self-questioning and independent and joint searching for answers; do not help too much.

As noted earlier in this chapter, a strictly verbal exchange constitutes no more than a small fraction of the full meaning or significance of a given communication among individuals. Clearly, we are paying attention to a full array of signs that go well beyond the linguistic. Consequently, we now turn our attention to the domain that is the primary carrier of meaning in almost every human exchange – the non-verbal. Non-Verbal Signs At first glance, it may seem odd to characterize a topic by what it is not. Defining as non-verbal all aspects of a communication that are not essentially verbal does not reflect the usual approach to defining and using terms in educational psychology. This point has concerned others, such

42 Teaching Adolescents

Related Issue To many secondary school students, formal schooling is characterized by the presentation of clearly defined problems for which all the information is known (or can be determined) and for which there is only one right answer. But a student could raise some pertinent questions, such as these: Is this situation representative of life outside school? For example, should I buy a Pontiac or a Honda? Or, should I marry Mary or Merry? How will I know the best answer when I see it (when there is no teacher to check my work)? Where do I go to get the information I need to create an answer? Thus the issue for educators can be framed as follows: what is the place in school of problems, either well or poorly defined, for which not all of the information is known, or can be known, and for which there exists no obvious right answer? Several other questions then arise. What is the teacher’s role in a situation like this? What should the students be doing? Does a situation like this threaten the integrity of the school or the authority of the adults therein? Discuss this issue with a classmate or colleague.

as Adam Kendon (1980), who have proposed other words to more clearly define the subject. However, since the present term is the one most widely used and readily understood, it will be employed in this book. The expression non-verbal communication will be taken to mean the following: all elements of a communication that are not essentially linguistic in nature. The subject of non-verbal communication, like an apple pie, can be divided in many different ways. How the subject (or, for that matter, the pie!) is divided depends mainly on the objectives of the person doing the dividing. There is no special magic in the system of seven categories of non-verbal communication that will be described below. However, these categories conform to those used by Knapp (1978) and should be meaningful to beginning secondary school teachers (see H.A. Smith, 1979 and 1984 for more complete and still relevant reviews on this topic). Environmental Factors We have all noticed, consciously or otherwise, the physical attributes of a variety of settings and the effects of those attributes on our behaviour.

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For example, have you ever wondered why courthouses, where society’s laws are applied and defended, are built so massively? Might it be to make the single individual feel weak and puny by comparison? Have you considered why fast food outlets have furniture and lighting that discourage you from lingering over your hamburger or fried chicken? Have you ever wondered why an airplane seat is built the way it is? Whether deliberate or not, the influences of environmental design extend into the domain of school buildings and their classrooms. To date, there is no compelling research linking a particular school design to the amount of student learning going on inside. However, several findings are suggestive and point the way towards further study. Those results are considered next. In the first place, various student behaviours can be linked to the basic configuration of the school. In North America, two main types of plan have characterized high school construction. The first of these is the central layout plan, in which classrooms are built immediately off a large central area. Most of these schools are older (from the 1940s to the 1960s), multi-storied, and found in urban areas. The second plan is the so-called extended layout plan in which long corridors, to which classrooms are attached, link central areas of reduced size. Schools built according to this sort of plan are often H- or E-shaped when seen from above; most of them were constructed after 1970. Results (Myrick & Marx, 1968) indicate that central layout schools encourage large clusters of students to milling around the large central area, attended by apparent confusion, noise, and general fooling around. By contrast, extended layout configurations promote the development of smaller-sized moving masses of students, who interact in ways the administration approves of. Generally, students in these schools are travelling alone or in twos and threes as they move among classroom locations, which may be quite distant from one another. School size is the second important variable that has received research attention. As we saw in chapter 1 (Cotton, 1996; Lee, Boyk & Smith, 1993; Vander Ark, 2002), smaller schools hold some major advantages over larger schools for both students and teachers. In fact, the prevailing trend of the past thirty years to consolidate high schools has been reversed in some large American cities since the early 1990s so as to create small high schools no more than three hundred students. In these small schools, teachers and administrators know the students’ names; as well, the students are more motivated, feel more connected to their schools, and are less likely to create discipline problems or drop

44 Teaching Adolescents

out (Vander Ark, 2002). Furthermore, and counter to the popular view, smaller schools are more cost-effective than larger schools when all costs – such as remediation for failing students – are taken into account. As implied in chapter 1, small schools of several hundred students offer more to the student in another respect. Because there are a number of roles to be filled by students at the high school level, such as student council president, yearbook editor, newspaper editor, band member, and member of the basketball team, students in small schools are much more likely to be involved in school events and to take pride in their school’s undertakings. Large schools, on the other hand, may leave many students uninvolved and feeling more apathetic towards school events and even more alienated from their community of peers. To counteract this negative drift, most large schools moved some time ago to some version of a house system whereby every student is assigned to a house and expected to participate in and support house activities. Intramural competitions between houses are often featured in these arrangements. Within the school, the next level that concerns students’ and teachers’ lives is the classroom. Let me first address the class size issue before dwelling at greater length on classroom design. In their careful analysis, Biddle and Berliner (2002) reported six findings: 1 Smaller classes, and especially those with fewer than twenty students, generate substantial gains in the early grades. 2 These gains are general across the academic disciplines. 3 These gains carry forward into later standard size classrooms and into high school. 4 Although all kinds of students benefit from small classes in the early grades, the gains are greatest for students who have been traditionally disadvantaged in education. 5 Both boys and girls benefit from the early smaller classes. 6 Evidence for the advantages of smaller classes in the upper grades and secondary school remains inconclusive. The classroom’s special design and furniture have always reflected prevailing views of how people learn in a formal setting. For example, Getzels (1974) argued that North American classrooms constructed during the early 1900s reflected the notion of the empty learner, with seats and benches arranged in orderly rows and bolted to the floor. All eyes faced the front, where the teacher’s desk and equipment were located and from where teachers delivered most of their lessons. The teacher

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served as information disseminator, and the student was supposed to act as an information sponge. This view of learning and learners paralleled the dominant behaviourist orientation of the time, which held that students were passive organisms who associated stimuli and responses through systems of rewards and punishments controlled by the teacher. In this era, too, most classrooms were rectangular in shape, with the left side of the classroom filled with windows to provide the much-needed lighting that supplemented the few incandescent light bulbs hanging from the high ceilings. That is, the rectangular shape was at least in part a means to overcome existing deficiencies in lighting systems. However, this classroom structure had other effects as well. For example, these were not optimum years for the 10 to 15 per cent of the population that is left-handed. Too often teachers forced these students to write with their right hand. Even in more enlightened classes, left-handed students had to try to keep the ink from leaky fountain pens off their shirts or blouses, in addition to dealing with the shadows of their hands from the natural light streaming in from the left. According to Getzels (1974), the 1930s brought the era of the active learner, who, it was assumed, learned better by becoming more involved in the material (of course, different school regions can dispute the dates suggested here, as many localities did not recognize the active learner until the late 1950s). Classrooms built during this era are characterized by a square rather than a rectangular shape, lower ceilings, fluorescent lighting evenly distributed throughout the classroom, and movable furniture. Students were now seen to be more responsible for their own learning than was the case previously. It is worth noting that this view of learning gained increasing support from educators despite the continued powerful behaviourist influences on education by psychologists. The subsequent period, during the 1950s and 1960s, retained the same basic classroom configuration as the preceding one, but according to Getzels it acquired the vision of the learner as social. Accordingly, there were systematic attempts to group students for learning tasks, to emphasize cooperation among students, and to recognize the powerful effects of group dynamics and peer influences. These classrooms moved away from single desks, with everyone facing the front of the room, towards clusters of desk tables grouped together and with students seated face to face as they worked together on classroom tasks. The next period, from the late 1960s to the mid-1970s, was characterized by what Getzels refers to as the stimulus-seeking learner and the open classroom. The open classroom was characterized by a very large room

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with floor space equal in size to that of two or three regular classrooms. There were no walls, a great deal of lighting (sometimes no windows, however), and a variety of different activities, curriculum subjects, and centres operating simultaneously. The intent of this arrangement was to have students move from activity to activity, often in no set order, so as to complete the necessary units of work in the time available to them. The number of students in each open area now equalled that of the two or three classrooms the open area replaced. Instead of having thirty to thirty-five students in the same class doing the same task at the same time, there were now sixty students in the open area doing different assignments across several subjects. In addition, two or three classroom teachers occupied this same area. These teachers were expected to work together as a team to create and organize the various centres and to monitor – and serve as resource people to – all of the students in attendance. What was the theory of learning that lay behind the open classroom? Getzels (1974, 536) states: ‘Human beings need not be driven to explore, to think, to learn, to dream, to seek out problems for solution; they are intrinsically constituted to do just this. The learner is not only a problemsolving and stimulus-reducing organism but also a problem-finding and stimulus-seeking organism. The image of the open classroom is isomorphic with this vision of the learner.’ There is little to take issue with in this statement. It seems that for purposes of survival in our society, we are intrinsically motivated to become competent in a variety of relevant domains. However, these domains go well beyond reading and arithmetic to include dancing, driving a truck, and getting along with the relatives. Unfortunately for the tenure of the open classroom, it turned out that students who were problem finders and stimulus seekers outside the school walls tended to be far less so inside them. Perhaps the students saw little use for the formal and often abstract tasks created for them in class. Perhaps they felt too little identification with the school environment, believing that it was the haven of old, greying folks rather than the world of laughing, interacting adolescents. Perhaps their developmental priorities were more peer related than scholastically driven. Perhaps they observed less than optimal comfort in the open setting on the part of teachers, who were often not re-educated sufficiently to adapt to the special demands of the open environment. And perhaps they perceived signs that the traditional rules of school were still being applied despite the different vision and class structure available to them. In any event, since Getzels’s article appeared in 1974, most schools with open

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areas have witnessed a return (some say stampede) to the previous views of active and social learners. Some schools, it is fair to say, have yet to abandon the original perspective of the learner as ‘empty.’ Soon after the open concept schools of the 1970s opened for business, physical barriers of one kind or another began to appear in the open areas. High bookshelves and flimsy (or even concrete-block!) walls were used to divide the spacious classrooms. The result was that instead of six or seventy students moving about according to individual agendas, two or three separate classes were created, each with its own teacher and corner of the room. These adaptations had less than perfect consequences. Traditional teaching was now taking place without the advantages of the traditional classroom. Noise and distractions increased for everyone (and it appears that some students are particularly vulnerable to noise and distractions). Thus, films played in one corner of the room for one class could be heard by everyone else within range, and anyone arriving late to one class was observed by members of all three classes. Perhaps some readers of this text recall their own experiences in these kinds of settings. Today, one can still see remnants of the open era, but the full vision of the time was not realized in most schools. The open philosophy that lay behind the open physical structure must now be implemented in more traditional classrooms. As one moves from school to school and from classroom to classroom, one can observe different views of learning being expressed. For better or for worse, these assorted views are not always accompanied by optimal environmental arrangements. However, with some thought, teachers are often able to manipulate their classroom layouts to more closely match their beliefs about how classroom learning best occurs (see chapter 6). Proxemics The word proxemics refers to the meaning and use of one’s social and personal space. From the perspective of teaching, proxemics has its greatest impact on the interaction distances, both personal and public, that teachers choose to use in their classrooms. The term is also related to the environmental factors considered above, in that different spatial configurations of desks and tables lead to different classroom dynamics for the students and teachers present. Imagine for a moment that you are addressing a group of thirty adolescents while standing on an auditorium platform about 1.5 metres

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above the group and about 10 metres away from them. Now imagine that you are on the auditorium floor talking to three of these same adolescents at a distance of 2 metres. Finally, imagine that you are talking to one of the adolescents at the North American conversational norm of about half a metre. How does the nature and quality of your interaction with the adolescents change in each case? Which situation is most comfortable for you? Why? (See Hall, 1966 for an analysis of communicating with these three kinds of interpersonal distance.) Clearly, the changing interaction distances influence other non-verbal aspects as well. For example, how does your voice volume change with each scenario? What tone of voice are you using in each? Where are you gazing in each case, and how does your eye behaviour vary? Does your posture change from one setting to the next? The focus in this section is on the use of the space by class members; these other dimensions will be considered under other categories in the chapter. The strong influence of proxemics on classroom communication is often overlooked or underestimated by the beginning teacher, whom we shall call Anna. When Anna first walks rather hesitantly into the typical classroom (see figure 2.1) on her very first teaching placement, her first impulse is to flee to the large desk at the front of the room. Her second impulse is to place all her lesson plans, reference books, and miscellaneous items on the desk in front of her in a failing attempt to erect a high and impervious structure that will somehow separate her from thirty-five pairs of eyes and an uncertain world. Anna’s third impulse is to remain rooted behind the desk and behind her materials while she forges ahead with her carefully scripted lesson. Anna’s actions here are understandable. Unfortunately, they are not effective in making personal or even professional contact with the class, they do nothing to make students feel included in the lesson, and they are worthless when it comes to monitoring events at the rear of the class. What should Anna do instead? Research on teachers’ use of classroom space and the classroom seating of students is especially instructive (see H.A. Smith, 1979). For example, it has been found that the closer the teacher is to the students, the better the teacher is liked. In addition, when the teacher is in front of the desk rather than behind it, students feel more included in the lesson. In general, students are more involved in the lesson and reciprocate much more when the teacher is closer to them (but the teacher must face the students quite directly for this effect to hold). These students look at the teacher more, they write more, and they speak more.

Signs in Communication 49 Figure 2.1. The typical classroom design

Of course, for the students placed farther away from the teacher (such as the group lined up in the back row of chairs in the typical classroom), the environment is much different. These students may have trouble hearing the teacher, especially her quick personal asides directed toward students in the front row. They may have problems reading everything written on the board, and they may be more readily distracted by other events such as the glossy magazine being opened at the next desk. Several studies have reported a triangle of participation that extends across the entire front row and converges at the middle seat of the middle row in the typical classroom. The students in this triangle have the demonstrated advantage of proximity to the teacher and appear more engaged in the proceedings. From this situation, a relevant question can be posed: Is the increased participation in the triangle dependent on certain characteristics of the area itself, or is such participation due to more interested students choosing to sit near the teacher? In fact, this problem was investigated several decades ago by Koneya (1976), who

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found that both variables played some role. That is, more interested students did choose to sit in a classroom area where they could participate more actively, but the area itself was found to promote higher levels of participation from everyone except very low verbal students. To extrapolate from this and other research, it seems that the triangle of participation is created only when the teacher remains at the front middle of the classroom – preferably in front of the desk – and when she conducts the bulk of the instruction from that single place. The implication is that when the teacher moves around the classroom and conducts bits of the lesson from different areas (for example, halfway along the window side of the class), a different group of students will be closer to the teacher, feel more included in the lesson, and be more involved in the proceedings. Moving around the classroom helps teachers take advantage of all of the space available to them. Too often only a tiny area receives most of the activity. For example, one study found that 45 per cent of all class activity occurred in one-twelfth of the floor space (Rivlin & Rothenberg, 1975). Observations will attest to heavy use of part of the classroom to the virtual exclusion of other regions. Often such concentrated activity can be defended for instructional reasons – for example, when all of one’s overhead transparencies or demonstration objects are best displayed from one place. However, the fact remains that too often teacher movement is unnecessarily limited. Experienced teachers attest to the value of moving around to encourage student participation, to know class dynamics better, and to support their disciplinary functions. Indeed, one of the most effective ways to maintain class discipline (a topic examined at greater length in chapter 3) with a student who persists in disturbing the class is to have the teacher deliberately invade his or her personal space. This can be done by deliberately approaching the student, placing the hands firmly in the student’s territory (the desktop!), staring straight at the student, and in a quiet but firm voice demanding cooperation. Three main strategies involving teacher movement appear to make eminent sense for instructional and disciplinary reasons. The first of these can be called the Grand Tour, which carries the teacher from the front of the classroom around its entire perimeter (see path A in figure 2.1). Such a trip permits the teacher to make contact with the remote regions of the class (and possibly with the even more remote minds occupying those regions!) in order to ensure that instruction is proceeding as desired and that general order is maintained.

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The second movement strategy can be labelled the Inland Excursion. Here, the teacher moves down one of the aisles all the way to the back of the room and then returns to the instructional area by a different aisle (see path B in figure 2.1). This movement brings the teacher close to students who are sitting towards the rear middle of the class and permits them to ask questions. (Most questions to the teacher seem to be asked quickly and in a low voice; this demands that the teacher be located at the personal distance from the student.) As well, the teacher can check the task orientation of the student and be made aware of what’s happening in the nether regions of the classrooom. The third movement strategy can be called the Quick Site Visit. Here, the teacher leaves her position and instruction for a rapid visit to a student having an immediate difficulty that can be responded to in short order (see path C in figure 2.1). As soon as the problem is resolved, the teacher returns to her original place and resumes instruction. The purpose of this movement is to keep the concerned student on task and aware of what is being taught. To maintain a good class pace and rhythm, more substantial difficulties faced by a student that cannot be resolved by several brief words or actions should be dealt with later, after the rest of the students are working on their assigned tasks. One relevant aspect of proxemics is related to environmental factors: the arrangement of desks and students for special purposes. For example, a teacher may wish to generate more discussion among the class members. Accordingly, the desks can be arranged in a number of small circles or in a U-shaped configuration, or one or two rows of desks can be moved to face one or two other rows. Even the typical university-style lecture room, consisting of rising rows of immovable (and often broken!) seats, possesses excellent instructional characteristics when the sole focus of learning is under the spotlight at the front of the room or when a film is being shown. The usual rows of desks discourage class discussions, debates, and seminar presentations; other arrangements have their own limitations – as well as assets. Optimally, the purpose of the lesson should be related to the type of physical configuration employed in class. This last point can be underlined by an example. In one segregated special education class consisting of about a dozen adolescents in Grade 9, the teacher encountered continuing disturbances and high distractability on the part of the students until she hit on a workable solution. She placed her desk in the middle of the classroom and arranged the students’ desks in a circle with her desk at the centre. All of the students’ desks faced out towards the classroom walls! The advantages of

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this arrangement were several: the teacher was the same distance from all the class members, and the distractions available to the students were minimized. Even in classrooms, interpersonal distances are subject to cultural influences. Some cultures, including some Arabic ones, favour closer distances for one-on-one interactions; other cultures, including those of northern Europe, favour greater distances between the interacting parties. This fact has potential consequences for classroom functioning. For example, northern European teachers may be perceived by southern European students as cool and distant and as not liking them. In contrast, southern European teachers may cause initial discomfort in northern European students by standing uncommonly close to them and by making physical contact with them – for example, patting them on the shoulder. Kinesics The third category of non-verbal behaviour is kinesics (or, to read the popular press, body language). This category is concerned with the study of body movement, posture, and facial and eye behaviour. When compared with some of the other categories of non-verbal behaviour outlined here, kinesics is tied especially obviously to cultural factors. How do you know when someone is enthusiastic about something? How do you know when teachers are enthusiastic about teaching their subjects? How do you know when students are enthusiastic about learning a topic? The notion of enthusiasm is an interesting one to illustrate both the problems and the promise of kinesics in understanding human behaviour. In the knowledge we have gained from living, however that knowledge was acquired, we think we know the signs of enthusiasm. There is that alive look in the eyes, the vigour in the voice and in body movements, and an outward orientation that seems to seek interest and participation from others. But how does one conduct serious research on enthusiasm? What behaviours, or constellations of behaviours, should researchers attempt to isolate and later synthesize? An effort in this direction has been made by Neill and Caswell (1993), who sought to isolate the main non-verbal factors associated with enthusiasm (that is, voice quality and tempo, body posture, and gestures) in their training materials for teachers (see also Neill, 1991). Neill and Caswell’s emphasis on gesture is supported by a number of other studies indicating that the type and frequency of teacher gestures

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Related Issue Should Students Choose Their Own Seats in Class? Currently, at least three different approaches are used to determine student seat choice in the classroom. First, teachers may organize students in alphabetical order by surname. This strategy has the advantage of rapid attendance checks by the teacher, but perhaps the front row seat is occupied by the largest and clumsiest student while the tiny hard-of-hearing person is stuck in the very back row. Other plans like this, where the teacher makes all the decisions, may make students feel uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. A second approach involves teachers permitting students to choose their own seats at the beginning of term. This has the advantage of giving students the responsibility for placing themselves where they want. As with all fixed-desk assignments, there is a single place for each student to keep personal books and supplies (assuming that the students do not have to move much among classrooms for their different subjects). On occasion, student behaviour may be such that teachers will require a seat change. A third strategy provides for no fixed bench, table or desk for the students from class to class. Instead they are permitted to choose their own seats at the beginning of each class. A disadvantage of this approach is that students spend a great deal of class time negotiating seating with friends and racing from place to place before the class can finally begin. The major advantage of this strategy (one that may be outweighed by the previous problem) is that students feel more like participating in class some days than others. We all have our good days when the world is our oyster and bad days when we want to curl up in retreat from the world. Permitting changing class locations recognizes these daily fluctuations; in at least one study, it resulted in higher test scores at the end of term.

is associated with a host of emotional, cognitive, and instructional factors. To begin with the qualitative aspects of gesture, wild, uncontrolled, and frenetic gestures suggest features other than enthusiasm. The situation is complicated, too, by the need to consider cultural, personal, and

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situational variables. For example, some groups are said to ‘talk with their hands’ more than other groups, some individuals are more physically exuberant than their peers, and the identical gesture can mean very different things in different cultures. As far as situational variables are concerned, one might expect the teaching of music to be associated with greater amounts of gesturing than, say, the teaching of history. To turn to instructional implications, adults instructed to attend to gestures can discern discrepancies between what children say and, as revealed by their gestures, what they understand (Kelly et al., 2002). Furthermore, Roth (2001) reviewed a substantial body of research that strongly links teacher and student gestures with teaching and learning. As a whole, these studies indicate that gestures are not simply about the body; they are also central to human cognitive processes (the embodiment of cognition will be examined at greater length in chapter 5). Some kinesic signs are especially important for teachers. For example, a teacher who leans his or her body slightly in the direction of the students gives off a message of interest and concern for the topic and for those present. Teachers who stand erectly and, especially, rigidly while facing their classes appear tense and uncomfortable with the situation. Those who lean backwards away from the class seem to emit a distaste for the students – and probably for the entire situation. A teacher who is comfortable and at ease in class and who is well prepared for the lesson will show a rhythm or flow from one class activity to the next in a manner that suggests skill and comfort and that helps minimize class discipline problems. To reverse the focus, most students are strongly aware of the importance of at least appearing enthusiastic in class, and that their movement displays can have important effects on their teachers (e.g., Brooks & Woolfolk, 1987). In North American schools, students who appear interested and involved in class are viewed in positive terms by their teachers. Besides sitting near the teacher, signs of involvement include upright posture, forward lean, alert demeanour, appropriate amounts of eye contact with the teacher, and active behavioural displays such as hand waving and audible verbalisms – ‘Oh ... oh ... I know’ – to gain teacher consent to respond. Students who behave otherwise are considered by the teacher to be uninterested, uncomprehending, or unsupportive of class activities. Accordingly, most students become skilled readers of critical classroom signs in order to survive culturally. However, in many world cultures, students who are interested in class activities follow other behavioural scripts. For example, to show respect,

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How should the teacher read these proxemic and kinesic signs?

Vietnamese students typically sit quietly and listen attentively to their North American teachers. Yet such behaviours are often misinterpreted by these same teachers as representing passive and non-responsive attitudes. As another example, North American Aboriginal students compete less than non-Aboriginals for teachers’ attention and show a more even distribution of talk among class members than do non-Aboriginals (Philips, 1983). Teachers can misunderstand these behaviours as threats to their instructional agendas. Another important kinesic variable is direct gaze. In North America the norm is to have the speaker in a communication look directly at the person being addressed, with the listener expected to look back. Averted eyes are often seen as indicating dishonesty or secretiveness. However, direct eye contact is a behaviour that is especially sensitive to cultural norms. In many cultures, the direct eye contact that is valued so highly by most North American teachers is considered an invasion of privacy, an act of defiance, an expression of deep passion, or a demonstration of lack of trust. For Muslims, direct gaze is aggressive, intrusive, and in violation of traditional Islamic norms. Vietnamese students avoid eye contact when talking to someone who is not an equal or of the same sex. Japanese culture is so highly non-gaze that even teachers frequently refrain from eye contact with their listeners. In North America, black and Aboriginal students often avoid eye contact with their teachers even though they do not mean to disrupt the class.

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These differences aside, direct gaze in conjunction with close proximity is used in many classrooms as an important control device. The teacher who averts his or her eyes while talking to the student is perceived as having lost both ground and the upper hand in dealing with disciplinary matters. The teacher in control does not hesitate to gaze directly at the student until the matter is settled. Gaze is often supplemented by the teacher approaching the student in a deliberate and controlled manner so as to invade the latter’s personal space. One set of important facial behaviours involves the muscles controlling the mouth (see Ekman & Rosenberg, 1997). Smiling, grimacing, and frowning are all examples of the effects of moving these muscles. Several relevant points should be noted. In the old days, teachers wre often advised, ‘Don’t smile until Christmas.’ Yet, genuine smiling is related to interpersonal warmth and a positive classroom atmosphere. The word genuine is important here: simply moving the mouth muscles but retaining a cold, steely eye fools no one, especially students whose classroom survival depends on being aware of your moods and behaviours – often before you are. More recent research suggests that smiling early in the school year is perfectly satisfactory for a variety of reasons. However, you should not smile in several situations: to try to relieve nervousness or hide tension; to try to get the students to like you; and when discussing punishments for the breaking of classroom rules (you see, punishments or threats of same should be no smiling matter). At present, in most cultures, it may be more important for female teachers to smile less often than males in order to be taken seriously. As most teachers know, how they move as well as what they do is critical to others’ perceptions of them and responses to them. For example, let us examine the apparently simple and direct activity of two North American men shaking each other’s hand in greeting. The usual successful behaviour consists of rotating the body towards the person being introduced, taking a step or half-step towards the person, extending one’s hand, and while gripping and shaking the other’s hand briefly saying several words of greeting such as ‘How do you do – I’m pleased to meet you,’ this accompanied by direct gaze and a genuine facial expression of welcome. To manage a successful greeting, these behaviours are done in synchrony with those of the other person. Being several steps behind or ahead of the other, leaving something out (such as the bodily rotation or words of greeting), and holding the other’s hand too long, all give off uncertain or unpleasant messages for the other person involved. The situation emphasizes the fact that in most communications, something not

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done can be more important than something that is done. In passing, we can wonder how we ever learn all these culturally appropriate behaviours. Even when all the physical acts of an activity are performed in the proper sequence, an awkward and asynchronous set of movements is almost sure to breed discomfort among the parties. Note that behaviours need not be done appropriately and in step if the overall manner is friendly and if an explanation for the deviation is offered or obvious. For example, to return to our two men greeting each other, if one of them has grease on his right hand, a quick reference to that fact can lead to the understandable and acceptable omission of the hand-shaking segment or the offering of the left hand instead. Please note that even this simple greeting behaviour is not universal either within a given culture or across cultures. Indeed, the rules for greeting can vary substantially with social status, age, sex, and culture. Because similar differences exist for almost every other behaviour involving human interaction, the teacher must be aware of possible differences in background of the students in class and to act on those differences. One ingredient of kinesics that has not been mentioned specifically so far is time. There is no such thing as non-temporal activity – all behaviours take place in both space and time. Moving from one class activity to the next takes place in time. Gaze takes place in time. Smiles and handshakes take place in time. In general, behaviours that are too rapid or too slow, or that are too fleeting or too lingering, for a given situation are important signs for others. Furthermore, the time you spend on any given classroom activity, or the time you do not spend on it, sends a significant sign to the students about the value you place on that activity. In class, your students understand very well the various implications of spending five hours on Topic A and five minutes on Topic B. To complicate matters even more, the use and interpretation of time varies from culture to culture. Several important intercultural differences have been pointed out by Hall (1983); other researchers have examined the perceptions of time held by the Aboriginal peoples of North America. Most classrooms are highly time-oriented and timedependent settings, and teaching success is often measured by the ability to manipulate time to maximum advantage. Note, however, that the tight time constraints of the average classroom are not to everyone’s liking and do not suit everyone’s disposition. Also, some activities simply take longer than others (for example, laying out and working on an art project versus learning the chemical composition of a compound), yet they usually must be squeezed into the same length of time.

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Haptics The fourth category of non-verbal behaviour is haptics, or touching behaviour. For at least sixty years, studies involving both human and nonhuman species have underscored the critical importance of early and continuing physical contact among social members. Touch is critical for normal development in the infant, and it continues to be important for the rest of one’s life (see Ackerman, 1990; Montagu, 1971). As is the case with the other non-verbal factors, touch is related to cultural variables in terms of its display, quality, frequency, and vigour. Some cultures, such as the Japanese use little touch after childhood. In high-contact cultures such as the southern Italian, a great deal of interpersonal contact is expected during normal human interaction. Other cultures, such as the northern European, show greater interpersonal distances and reduced amounts of touch. In strict Islamic communities, there should be no touching of women in public, especially by men outside the family. To date, little or no research exists that relates aspects of teacher touch to subsequent student performance. The classroom situation regarding touch is complicated by the fact that relative to students, teachers are in positions of power. Furthermore, legislation and current social concern regarding physical and sexual assault, along with false allegations against teachers, have made teachers’ touching students (and the reverse!) an extremely sensitive topic. Teachers’ associations in some jurisdictions view the matter with enough trepidation to have advised student teachers to show extreme caution in making physical contact with the students or, better, to avoid such contact altogether; to draw on the experience of colleagues; and to use ‘common sense.’ Of course, cultural and personal differences will result in widely differing views of what constitutes ‘common sense.’ Those most vulnerable to social censure at the present time are male teachers who work with very young children. Thus the current situation is such that substantial caution is advised where touch is concerned. On the surface, there seems to be little harm and the possibility of significant benefits in having teachers use touch when they (and presumably the students) are comfortable with it. In some subject areas such as drama, physical education, music, and technological education, touch may be an important part of the instruction and even critical for student safety (for example, when spotting for a gymnast). In any case, avoiding touch will not prevent the determined student from making a false allegation. One piece of pertinent advice

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is to first ask the students if they are comfortable with being touched. Otherwise, before touching a student, ask yourself these three questions: 1 Is the student’s autonomy being respected? (Do not touch a student who displays any associated discomfort.) 2 Would I want my actions to be made public? (Do not touch a student if there is any element of secrecy involved.) 3 Am I meeting the student’s needs? (Meet your own needs elsewhere.) Physical Characteristics The category of physical characteristics includes such elements as physique, general attractiveness, height, weight, sex, and hair and skin colour. The evidence to date suggests that these factors help shape first impressions but that they become only minimally important as people come to know one another better. However, every society seems to select some attributes as being of more value or worth than others, and these attributes change over time. Those who happen to possess the selected attributes are often more valued than those who do not, and the entire process is more often implicit than explicit. There appears to be little relevant educational research involving teachers who possess one physical characteristic versus another, but the general research is suggestive on several fronts. It seems that in Western society, physically taller people (and mainly men) hold a disproportionate number of responsible positions. That is not to deny the success of some of history’s shorter people such as Alexander the Great but rather to emphasize the fact that chances for promotion increase with height. The more attractive members of a society (and remember that notions of what makes a person attractive vary from society to society) are more popular with their peers and possess better self-images than those judged as less attractive. In addition, the evidence suggests that teachers make attractiveness judgments about students and judge the attractive ones more favourably in such dimensions as intelligence, grades, academic potential, and social skills (Ritts, Patterson, & Tubbs, 1992). At bottom, we are stuck with the physical attributes that we inherited unless we are prepared to undergo surgical or other interventions in order to acquire features that are more culturally valued. Certainly, we often have a slight opening advantage if we happen to possess attributes valued by the surrounding society. However, it may be a source of some

60 Teaching Adolescents

comfort to know that physical beauty really is only skin deep and that there is no reason to stop our personal development simply because we lack some physical advantage. In the end, personal attributes are more important than physical features in making and keeping friends and in bringing personal satisfaction. Paralanguage Paralanguage consists of the assorted non-linguistic accompaniments to speech. These aspects include voice volume, tempo, pitch, intensity, hesitations, and pauses. Because there has been little deliberate research on paralanguage in the classroom, current knowledge is guided once more by findings derived from other settings. Several findings seem relevant. In the first place and contrary to expectation, tone of voice is not a reliable index of interpersonal warmth. Thus the false warmth tone is heard for exactly what it is – false. Second, vocal shifts such as those represented by sarcasm are not understood by young children, who rely on the spoken word and who have not had enough experience to detect inconsistency between the words and the spoken tone. Later on, as the young person shifts attention to the speaker’s facial and other cues, sarcasm is heard and understood for what it is. Most adolescents in school are keenly aware of sarcasm and its uses. Gumperz (1981) provides a warning about how difficult it can be to comprehend the voice tones of people who are culturally different from ourselves. For example, in one classroom study, white teachers heard black students produce statements such as ‘I can’t r–e–a–d,’ or ‘I can’t do t–h–i–s,’ delivered in a high pitch, and slowly, with an extended last word. The white teachers presumed from these statements that the black students were unable to do the work, while a panel of black judges determined that the children simply wanted company while they worked! Generally, silence can be considered a paralinguistic cue. Depending on when and where it occurs in an interaction, silence can communicate the full range of emotional expression, from scorn and dislike through indifference to sympathy and love. In many cultures around the world, such as the Japanese, silence does not mean emptiness; rather, it serves as a powerful means of communication. Unfortunately, many teachers tend to perceive student silence as passivity and indifference rather than as respect and attention. At any rate, silence is most definitely not equal to non-communication and at times can speak more loudly to an issue than words.

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Artefacts This final category of non-verbal communication is concerned with manipulated objects in contact with the interacting persons. These objects can include perfume, clothes, eyeglasses or contact lenses, lipstick, earrings, necklaces, watches, and assorted beauty aids. Typically, these artefacts can be seen as messages from and about those who are wearing them. Artefacts are a statement about the wearer’s self-image and his or her self-perceived and place in society. No research has related artefacts to teaching performance in the classroom, although teachers who wear current styles are more likely to be described as ‘with it’ than those who do not. I conclude this section on non-verbal signs with several general guidelines. First, non-verbal elements should always be judged within the total context of the moment. Many self-help books tend to isolate single non-verbal behaviours and then provide statements of what each of the behaviours means. Unfortunately, contextual and personal attributes vary too widely for this approach to be very useful. Second, students and teachers influence one other constantly while they are interacting. Claims that the influence is all one way (typically, from teacher to students) simply do not hold up under scrutiny. Rather, students and teachers are engaged in continuous ‘dances,’ with one party responding to behaviours that the other has just performed (e.g., Woolfolk & Brooks, 1983). Third, classes have rules and roles that are transmitted essentially non-verbally. If someone (often a minority individual) has trouble comprehending the unwritten and often unspoken class rules of the cultural majority, then he or she is apt to be labelled as dull or disruptive and treated generally as a classroom problem. Fourth and finally, in non-verbal communication there are often significant intercultural differences in expected actions and, especially, in the meanings assigned to specific behaviours. Signs, Communication, and Cultures In this chapter on classroom communication in signs, a number of references have been made to the different ways in which cultural members use time, space, and matter in their social interactions. All of these interactional forms constitute potential signs of communication for the attentive or interested teacher. In addition, it has been suggested that classrooms are special sociocultural settings with distinct rules and routines that usually conform to the values held by the sponsoring (usually

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Tips for Teachers Questions on Non-Verbal Signs 1 How might the classroom furniture be arranged to best suit your instructional objectives? 2 Are you moving around the classroom regularly in order to involve all students in the lesson and to be aware of what is happening in all corners of the room? 3 Do your body posture and facial expressions register enthusiasm for the topic and interest in the students? 4 During instruction, is your voice tone positive rather than negative? 5 Do you interpret non-verbal behaviours in the context of the moment, and do you factor in both individual and cultural variations?

dominant) culture. However, these rules and routines are rarely made explicit for those who are new to the class culture, even though some of these routines may be quite difficult to comprehend. Furthermore, as implied earlier, teachers’ expectations are based on available samples of student behaviour (see the discussion of expectations and self-fulfilling prophecies in chapter 6). Again, all of these implicit rules and behaviour samples constitute signs for those who are aware of them. Let us consider several signs of classroom life that derive from particular rules and routines and from student behaviour samples. To begin, in order to promote teachers’ positive impressions, students must produce correct answers in the right forms at the appropriate times. Also, they must know when to address questions to teachers and must respond quickly to teachers’ requests. They must know additional rules of the classroom culture, such as when to look at the teacher and for how long. These students will also know how to behave, and when, to avoid teacher sanctions. Naturally, students coming to the classroom with different cultural expectations and experiences will function at a disadvantage in all of these respects. One example of variations in class norms across cultures relates to the response time between the end of the teacher’s question and the begin-

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ning of the student’s response. In North America, response times are typically quite short; students attempt to respond as soon as the teacher finishes the question. However, Finnish students take longer to respond than Swedish students and display little back-channel behaviour (that is, they make few signs or sounds to show that they are listening intently). North American Aboriginal people do not feel at all compelled to respond immediately to requests made of them. Also, research has shown that in English-language classrooms, students who speak English as a second language take longer than usual to respond to the teacher. Any of these differences can trigger less than positive expectations, and less than optimal instructional behaviour, on the part of teachers who are blind to cultural variations. This has profound implications for teachers’ management and disciplinary practices. We shall turn to this topic in the next chapter.

Selected Reading Ackerman, D. (1990). A natural history of the senses. New York: Random House. A very accessible account of the power of our senses to connect us with our worlds. Although the section on touch is most relevant for this chapter, teachers should be aware of how much else our other nonverbal capabilities are telling us. Key, M.R. (Ed.) (1980). The relationship of verbal and nonverbal communication. The Hague: Mouton. A scholarly treatment of the verbal non-verbal interface. The chapters are not related directly to teaching, but a number of provocative questions are raised. Leeds-Hurwitz, W. (1993). Semiotics and communication: Signs, codes, cultures. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. An introduction to semiotics and its relationship to communication and culture. Food, clothing, and objects are given special analysis for their signs and codes, although Peircean notions are better explained elsewhere. Neill, S. (1991). Classroom nonverbal communication. London: Routledge. A publication intended for classroom teachers. The essential literature is reviewed, with an emphasis on proxemics and kinesics. Many diagrams of teacher postures and body positions are provided. Theory into Practice. In general, a fine journal for teachers. With respect to the content of this

64 Teaching Adolescents chapter, three special issues on nonverbal communication have been produced over the past thirty years: October 1971; June 1977; and February 1985. These articles are most pertinent to the practising teacher. Wolfgang, A. (Ed.) (1984). Nonverbal behavior: Perspectives, applications, intercultural insights. Lewiston, NY: Hogrefe. A still-relevant and informative collection of articles that addresses a variety of human non-verbal domains, including teaching. The references at the end of each chapter provide excellent entry points into the topic being examined.

3 Signs in Class Management and Discipline

PAUL During a math class in Westwood Elementary School, Paul S., an 11-year-old sixth grader, was observed to pinch the boys sitting next to him, throw spit wads across the room, and make punching motions at the posterior of the teacher who leaned over in front of him. Paul was not reprimanded; in fact, his behaviours went unnoticed. At the end of the school year Paul was selected by his teachers to win a coveted ‘Good Citizenship Award.’ Spencer-Hall (1981, 281)


Signs in Class Management No other issue concerns beginning teachers and most school administrators more than class management and discipline (see, e.g., Weber, 1999). Teachers report that the inability to develop effective classroom management techniques is a primary cause of stress, burnout, and teacher dropout in junior high and secondary school (McQueen, 1992). Among new teachers, classroom management and discipline are the number one concerns (Veenman, 1984). According to administrators, classroom management and discipline problems are the main causes of lost instructional time in high schools (Evertson & Harris, 1992). Although the matter is sometimes blown out of proportion, the management of people and instructional materials is a central part of teaching (e.g., Wang, Haertel & Walberg, 1993). Indeed, one of the perceived hallmarks of effective teachers is their ability to create a smoothly functioning classroom that

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promotes a positive learning environment. As we shall see in this chapter, these effective teachers understand and act on the signs of communication described in chapter 2. However, as shown in the opening vignette, even elementary-level students are highly competent at reading and acting on classroom signs. How else could an eleven-year-old openly display such naughty behaviour and yet pass so undetected by the person responsible for managing the class? We can just imagine the heightened capabilities of the astute sixteen-year-old inhabiting the secondary classroom. This chapter has two main aims. First building on the notion of signs as described in chapter 1, it outlines some fundamental theories or approaches to classroom management and the associated teaching actions. You will see that there is no one way ‘to be’ in the classroom and that each teacher must work out his or her own best approach to teaching and managing students. However, effective teachers do possess some essential personal attributes, so these will be summarized below. Some general principles of effective management are presented and then translated into routines and procedures for the following: planning before school begins; managing on the first day of school and in the early weeks; and maintaining effective classroom management throughout the term. In addition, a brief discussion is presented of the management concerns of pre-service teachers. The underlying message running through the first part of this chapter is that, compared with teachers who continue to struggle with management issues, those teachers who read signs competently and thus manage classes well encounter many fewer difficulties with students and instruction. Second, this chapter considers the matter of discipline. No matter how effectively teachers manage their classes, breakdowns can occur that call for remedial action. So we shall examine some aspects of discipline, including both general approaches and techniques for specific problems. This latter part of the chapter discusses the corrective and supportive actions that teachers must sometimes take in order to restore order, re-engage students in classroom tasks, and help individual students with behavioural difficulties achieve more productive behaviour, enhanced self-esteem, and increased academic success. However, discipline also extends to the self and to the various means of exerting selfcontrol. Thus the view of discipline adopted here goes far beyond the usual limited view that discipline equals punishment. In this chapter you will realize that how a teacher organizes and manages the complexities of a classroom is related intimately to that teacher’s understanding of the purposes of schooling and, it follows, the

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Project Write down what you mean by classroom management and discipline. What is the relationship between the two? How do you understand the implicit assumption of control in the term classroom management? What do you see as the greater goal of classroom management? Discuss your views with your fellow students. Then read on for the view of classroom management and discipline adopted here.

class signs worth noting. The answers to ‘what should I do?’ and ‘What do I pay attention to?’ follow from thinking about ‘What are we [my students and I] trying to accomplish here?’ How a teacher manages and organizes a classroom is closely linked to his or her theory of teaching and learning, however incompletely formulated that theory may be. Clearly, technique is only a means to specified educational purposes or goals. It is impossible to separate management decisions from the content being taught. When we teach we must think about the sociocultural as well as the academic demands of the tasks we are imposing on students. In this way we declare who we are and how we intend to engage with our students. We do this explicitly through what we say and, more critically, implicitly through what we do. Adolescence and Class Management We will be looking at developmental aspects of adolescence at greater length in chapter 4. At this juncture, let us preview some of the main factors that bear on class management. Adolescents are undergoing rapid changes in their physical, biological, emotional, social, and intellectual development. Accordingly, adolescents sometimes demonstrate particular characteristics that may be cast as negative behaviours and that are a direct result of these rapid changes. These characteristics vary with the individual. This period is usually characterized by rapid physical growth during puberty and further (albeit slower growth in later adolescence. Adolescents are often moody and unsure of themselves as they cope with their new and somewhat unpredictable bodies. Self-identity, concern with val-

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ues, and the need for positive peer relationships emerge during the adolescent years as major preoccupations. Instability and even rebelliousness may be seen from time to time as adolescents come to terms with their new social and emotional selves. Rapid intellectual growth is accompanied by an increasing ability to engage in abstract thinking and problem solving. Adolescents sometimes act defiant and argumentative as they assert their growing intellectual independence. These are some of the signs to which the attentive teacher pays attention. Adolescents strive to assert themselves, so they sometimes test adult authority when they want independence and control of their own actions to lives. While adolescents push to acquire control, teachers strive to influence student actions and to negotiate effectively. Students who reject teachers’ authority and refuse to follow classroom rules sometimes strike fear in teachers. ‘Goofing off’ is a more benign strategy followed by students who are seeking a sense of group consciousness and who are endeavouring to claim social territory within the rather impersonal school structure (Everhart, 1982). Goofing off refers to the apparently random and rather unstructured activities that seem to occur only in the presence of one’s friends. In class, goofing off can take many forms, such as shooting things (rubber bands, paper clips, paper wads), throwing things (chalk, erasers, gym bags, books), and just generally bugging the teacher (by pretending to chew gum, passing notes with nothing on them, talking, moving slowly when asked to do something, tapping pencils or feet, laughing out loud, and asking the teacher to repeat questions). Goofing off has been analysed as adaptive behaviour by those who feel depersonalized within the educational system; through these actions they gain some degree of power and control and some sense of community with their peers. Most teachers should not take these student actions personally. Restlessness, a short attention span, and poor concentration for academic work are also likely to surface in classrooms of adolescents. These students tend to be easily distracted and easily influenced by peers, to assert themselves and test adults’ authority, and to experience great fluctuations in their levels of energy and enthusiasm. These characteristics of adolescents intersect with the growing diversity in society and with the demands placed on teachers in junior high and secondary schools. One of a teacher’s responsibilities is to ensure the safety of students while they are in class. Another is to choose and teach curriculum content. With content becoming more complex, and the amount to be covered growing each year, teachers may feel considerable pressure to make adolescents conform.

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Setting the Stage As the foregoing discussion indicates, it is not easy to define classroom management and discipline. Many people use these terms to describe different aspects and approaches within teaching. For example, the following statements are typical of teachers and researchers who have thought about what the concepts mean to them: • ‘The key to effective classroom management is prevention.’ • ‘Discipline is what you do after you lose control.’ • ‘The ultimate goal of management is to create conditions that enable students to manage their own actions and become self-disciplined.’ • ‘Effective classroom management consists of teacher actions that maximize student involvement in classroom activities, minimize student actions that interfere with student and teacher engagement, and maximize the time available for teaching and learning.’ However, as noted earlier, views of class management and discipline are determined by the theories of human behaviour and learning held by individual teachers. Many such theories exist, as do different ways of conceptualizing them. One of the more complete overviews of the variety of approaches to class management is presented by Manning and Bucher (2003), which interested readers are advised to consult. Wilford Weber (1999) offers an alternative and more condensed version of these theories, which will be outlined in the next section. Weber also suggests that there are four stages in the classroom management process that hold no matter which theory of management is being applied. These four stages are described below. specifying desirable classroom conditions Teachers must first develop a clear and carefully considered view of the conditions that need to be established in their classrooms to support their instruction. For the most part, these conditions will reflect their personal views of teaching and learning. Having specified their desired conditions in advance, teachers will not simply react to problems in isolation; instead they will respond to problems in the light of their longterm instructional objectives. analysing existing classroom conditions Having completed the first stage, teachers then analyse their actual classroom conditions and to compare the ‘ideal’ with the ‘real.’ This analysis

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should reveal which existing conditions need immediate attention, eventual attention, or monitoring. Some problems may need immediate action; others may need preventive measures. At this stage, teachers work to determine what is going on in their classrooms. selecting and utilizing managerial strategies During this third stage, teachers carefully select and apply the managerial strategies that suit particular situations and individual students. The objective of these strategies is to solve problems, prevent problems, or maintain desirable conditions. Any of a full range of strategies can be used. assessing managerial effectiveness From time to time, teachers should evaluate whether their efforts are succeeding at attaining or maintaining their desirable conditions. Both teacher and student behaviours should be examined: teacher behaviours, for the extent to which managerial strategies are working; and student behaviours, for the extent to which students are behaving in desirable ways. Main Approaches to Classroom Management According to Weber (1999) there are eight fundamental approaches to classroom management. These approaches or theories are abstracted below in order to acquaint beginning teachers with the range of possible philosophies in this area. No single approach is likely to satisfy a teacher in all situations. Therefore, even if one approach seems especially congenial, teachers are encouraged to consider any and all of the approaches and any associated strategies that seem workable in the situation at hand. At base, though, a particular philosophical orientation to teaching and learning guides teachers both to the signs of student behaviour to which they should attend and to the actions they should take. Clearly, then, a given student behaviour could be interpreted and responded to very differently depending on the teacher’s guiding approach at the time. the authoritarian approach Here, student behaviour is specified and controlled by the teacher but with the best interests of the student in mind. Teachers are seen as having the right to establish clear expectations, limits, and consequences

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for behaviour in their classrooms. The authoritarian approach offers teachers five managerial strategies: 1 Establishing and enforcing rules. Usually, the teacher specifies a small number of non-negotiable rules and then negotiates with students about any additional rules deemed necessary. 2 Issuing commands, directives, and orders. These should be clear and specific, and delivered without force or harshness. 3 Using mild desists. Reminders to students, delivered kindly but firmly, that they are behaving inappropriately, should cease this behaviour and prompt desired behaviour. 4 Utilizing proximity control. This involves moving closer to the student to let the student know that the teacher is aware of the student’s behaviour or intended behaviour. 5 Using isolation and exclusion. This strategy includes in-school suspension and other forms of exile for more serious forms of student misbehaviour. the intimidation approach This approach also supports controlling student behaviour. However, here it involves intimidating teacher behaviour – specifically, harsh forms of punishment such as sarcasm, ridicule, threats, and force. Students should experience fear in these classrooms. This approach is mostly ineffective, and teachers who adopt it are seen as ineffectual. Some compliance may be achieved initially but greater problems usually follow such as student hostility and breakdown of the student-teacher relationship. the permissive approach The permissive approach to classroom management emphasizes student freedom. At its extreme, it advocates allowing students to do whatever they want whenever they want. Most school personnel consider this approach unworkable in public schools. However, many teachers support mild versions of this approach by creating classroom atmospheres that encourage students to feel psychologically safe, to take some personal risks, to negotiate some aspects of school experiences, and to developing self-direction and self-discipline. the cookbook approach This is the bag-of-tricks approach to management. Typically, it presents

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lists of dos and don’ts but without any consistent theoretical foundation. These recipes (for example, ‘Always be firm but fair when dealing with students’) often make good general sense, but may not be appropriate to specific situations and may be self-contradictory. Also, they may address the symptoms rather than the causes of misbehaviour, and they offer no reasonable next step should the first step fail. The cookbook approach should not be confused with an eclectic approach (where teachers choose the best aspects of a variety of approaches to create a single, theoretically sound one) or a pluralistic approach (where teachers choose from a wide variety of managerial approaches to find the strategy that best suits a given situation). the instructional approach The instructional approach supports the view that well-designed and carefully implemented instruction prevents most managerial problems and solves those which it does not prevent. This approach assumes that if students are motivated to learn material that is adapted to their needs and interests and if they have a reasonable chance to succeed, they will attend to the tasks at hand instead of disrupting the classroom. Evidence suggests that well-designed instructional activities do contribute to smoothly functioning classes but do not solve problems which arise. The following strategies are advocated for those adopting this approach: 1 Provide interesting, relevant (to the students), and appropriate curriculum content and instruction. 2 Move smoothly from one class activity to the next in order to maintain momentum and an even flow and pace in the instruction. 3 Establish regular classroom routines. 4 Give clear, concise, and carefully sequenced directions. 5 Use ‘interest boosting’ – that is, show interest in students’ work when they start to appear bored or disinterested 6 Provide ‘hurdle help’ – that is, direct assistance to students coping with frustrating problems. 7 Prepare the class for environmental changes, such as the teacher’s imminent absence. 8 Modify the classroom environment as suggested in chapter 2. the behaviour modification approach This approach is based on principles drawn from operant conditioning research in behavioural psychology, which makes the fundamental

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assumption that all behaviour is (a) learned and (b) controlled by external agents. Here, the major task of teachers is to understand and apply the four basic principles of behavioural learning, with their associated consequences: 1 Introduce a reward (positive reinforcement) to increase the frequency of desired behaviour – for example, give praise or pizza for work well done. 2 Introduce a punishment (punishment) to decrease the frequency of undesired behaviour – for example, have such as having students run laps for fooling around in gym period. 3 Remove a reward (extinction or time out) to decrease the frequency of undesired behaviour – for example, remove the student from a team game for swearing. 4 Remove a punishment (negative reinforcement) to increase the frequency of desired behaviour – for example, move a student back into the middle of the class when he or she has stopped talking out in class. In each case it is important for teachers to carefully select reinforcers that are appropriate for a given student. Other behavioural strategies include the following: • Shaping – students’ successive behaviours come closer and closer to the desired behaviour. • Token economy systems – teachers assign tokens (rewards) for carefully specified behaviours. • Contingency contracting – teacher and student agree on behaviours to be exhibited before a final payoff is made. • Self-monitoring – students record some aspect of their behaviour in order to modify it. Overall, under the behaviour modification approach, effective classroom management is best achieved by rewarding appropriate behaviour. the socio-emotional climate approach This approach adopts the view that effective classroom management and instruction is based primarily on positive teacher–student relationships. Hence, the teacher’s main task is to develop open positive relationships with students and a positive socio-emotional classroom climate. Instruc-

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tional strategies under this approach include the following: communicating ‘realness’ (the teacher is a genuine person), acceptance (the student is a person of worth), and empathic understanding (the teacher understands the student’s point of view); using effective communication in such a way that the teacher addresses the situation and not the student’s personality or character; showing unconditional positive regard and active listening; using humour; developing a democratic classroom; and employing logical consequences that are intrinsically linked to the misbehaviours. Well-known proponents of this approach include Haim Ginott (1972), William Glasser (1969), and Rudolf Dreikurs (e.g., Dreikurs & Grey, 1990). the group process approach This approach is based on principles from social psychology and group dynamics. The essential assumptions here are that the schooling takes place in a group context, that the classroom group is a typical social system, and that the main job of the teacher is to establish and maintain conditions that optimize group functioning. According to Weber (1999), effective instructional strategies include the following: fostering reasonable and clearly understood expectations for the class; sharing leadership; fostering open communication; establishing positive group morale; fostering group unity, cooperation, and cohesiveness; promoting productive group norms and standards; resolving conflicts through discussion; using problem-solving class meetings; and demonstrating good awareness of what is going on in the class. Five Signs of Effective Teachers The adoption of a basic approach to management is complemented by attributes that have been found to be associated with effective teachers. In their summary of research findings, Good and Brophy (1987, 228) listed five essential personal attributes of teachers: 1 2 3 4

Teachers must respect students. They must be consistent, dependable, and have credibility. They must assume responsibility for student learning. They must value and enjoy learning and expect the students to do likewise. 5 They must communicate these basic attitudes and expectations to students and model them in behaviour.

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Rules for Teachers (1872) 1 Teachers each day will fill lamps, clean chimneys, and trim wicks. 2 Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and a scuttle of coal for the day’s session. 3 Make your pens carefully. You may whittle nibs to the individual tastes of the pupils. 4 Men teachers may take one evening each week for courting purposes, or two evenings a week if they go to Church regularly. 5 After ten hours in school, the teachers should spend their remaining time reading the Bible or other good books. 6 Women teachers who marry or engage in uncomely conduct will be dismissed. 7 Every teacher should lay aside from each pay a goodly sum of his earnings for his benefit during his declining years so that he will not become a burden on society. 8 Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls or gets shaved in a barbershop will give good reason to suspect his worth, intentions, integrity and honesty. 9 The teacher who performs his labours faithfully and without fault for five years will be given an increase of 25 cents per week in his pay providing the Board of Education approves. Source: Quinte Educational Museum and Archives, Picton, Ontario

Teachers who respect students show this respect in the way they listen to students, get to know them, keep their word, respond to students in calm and reasonable ways, see good in students, and show they care. They also believe in themselves, know their strengths as teachers, and do not perceive student misbehaviour as a threat or personal affront. When adolescents challenge their authority, these teachers get to know the students, respond with listening and negotiation, and recognize that adolescents characteristically assert their newly found independence (Good & Brophy, 1987). Teachers who are consistent, credible, and dependable are believed. Students know that these teachers will do what they need to do, and will also do what they say. Teachers earn this assessment by consistently enforcing the rules, by acting rather than reacting, and by refraining from making

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empty threats. Students do not need to ‘test the limits’ when the limits are known. This has been called ‘the iron fist in the velvet glove.’ Teachers who assume responsibility for student learning believe that they and their students can accomplish learning together. They believe that effort and outcome are related, and they actively make the effort to get the outcome. They believe they can help all their students learn, and they set high but reasonable expectations for all students. Lastly, they provide the support students need in order to attain these goals (Prawat, 1992). When teachers value and enjoy learning, they set goals, choose content, and design activities and assignments that are interesting and meaningful to students (McQueen, 1992). They make connections with prior learning and experience, and they do not suggest that schoolwork is unpleasant or worthless. Their enthusiasm for knowledge translates into stimulating classes and is catching. Finally, effective teachers model the actions and attributes they expect of adolescents. Modelling is a powerful teaching tool that operates whether we have planned for it or not. The implication, therefore, is that we must plan for it. Students do use their teachers as models, especially when they are uncertain about what to do – for example, at the beginning of term. So it is crucially important that at the beginning of the school term the teacher’s actions and attitudes convey the climate he or she wants to create (Good & Brophy, 1987). As we saw in chapter 2, both verbal and nonverbal languages communicate our intent and can convey correct, ‘wrong,’ or contradictory messages. The first four of these teacher attributes must permeate teachers’ being from their first meeting with their students and must be deliberately reflected in verbal and non-verbal communication. One particularly effective method for reflecting these attributes is to think aloud about why you are doing what you are doing; another is to extend this thinking aloud to negotiations with students. These attributes are supported by four general principles of classroom management (ibid., 1987): 1 Students are more likely to follow classroom rules when they can understand and accept them. 2 Management should be approached with the intent of maximizing the time students spend in productive and rewarding learning; it should avoid emphasizing the negative or the control of misbehaviour. 3 Teachers are more successful when they help adolescents develop inner self-control instead of trying to control them.

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4 Teachers minimize management problems if they engage their students in meaningful work that is appropriate to their interests and abilities. Before School Begins Teachers should thoroughly plan and prepare for classes before the school year even begins. Put another way, they should be clear before classes start about the purposes of schooling and about their expectations for classes. This planning gives teachers a sense of purpose – one that is communicated to students through clear words, actions, and attitudes. Planning enables teachers to clarify standards for the classroom that are congruent with desired outcomes, and to translate these outcomes and standards into classroom actions and procedures. Thus before school begins, teachers should do the following: 1 Become familiar with the school’s procedures and rules (Ask!). 2 List expected behaviours for their classes. 3 Translate expectations into procedures and rules, which will become the classroom routines. All successful teachers have rules and routines for such everyday events as callouts, student movements in class, safety, putting tools and equipment back after use, and so on. 4 Focus on how to begin and end classes, and how to handle transitions (see below for further details), as these are often the most difficult situations in class. 5 Plan for student accountability. The point is to make the students, not the teachers, responsible for their own work. 6 Identify consequences for student actions that do not meet class expectations. 7 Plan ways to communicate and negotiate with students so that the latter understand and share the teachers’ expectations, routines, and systems for accountability and consequences. 8 Organize both the physical space (see chapter 2) and the teaching materials. Prepare the room so that it is pleasant to be in and communicates enthusiasm as well as information (bulletin boards and various displays can provide such signs). As soon as possible, try to show samples of students’ work. Ask them where they would like things displayed. Help them make the classroom their own. 9 Meet the students with a positive outlook, confident that they are prepared. Be ready to establish and explain expectations for the class,

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but also be cognizant that both teachers and students will be negotiating constantly. Listen (really listen) to the students. The First Day of School The first day of school is probably the most important day of the term, for it establishes the tone of the classroom as well as the procedures for its management. Research suggests that inexperienced teachers need to know how to bring the class to order quickly, explain procedures, find out important information, and let the students know what to expect in the coming days. Some years ago, Douglas Brooks and his colleagues (e.g., Brooks, 1985b; Brooks & Shouse, 1984) videotaped and compared beginning high school teachers with successful veteran teachers on the first day of school, and interviewed teachers and students. They followed with videotaping on the second, tenth, and twenty-eighth days of school. From interviews with students, they learned what students needed most from their teachers on the first day of the high school term. Students’ needs are reflected in the following questions, presented in the order students wanted them addressed. (1) Were they in the right room? (2) Where were they supposed to sit? (3) What were the teacher’s rules? (4) What would they be learning in the class? (5) How would they be evaluated? (6) Who was the teacher as a person? (7) Was the teacher going to be interested in them as individuals? Higher-achieving students expressed more interest in the grading practices the teacher would use; lower-achieving students were more interested in how the teacher would interact with them. Brooks and his colleagues found that the successful teachers had a simple formula for starting the year off well. This formula related to the activities they chose to do, the sequence of those activities, and the means by which they carried these out. Successful teachers selected activities that met student needs (as listed above) as well as their own needs. They sequenced activities to meet first needs first, and they adjusted their verbal and non-verbal actions within each activity to make them consistent with the message they wished to communicate. These teachers, described by Brooks as ‘superstars,’ negotiated the agenda to accommodate themselves and their students and were highly aware of both verbal and nonverbal signs of communication. On the basis of his observations and analyses, Brooks (1985a) recommended that teachers’ activities on the first day apply the following sequence:

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1 Call the class to order when the bell rings. 2 Take roll, organize seating, and establish a seating chart at the same time. 3 Explain the priorities for classroom rules and procedures. 4 Introduce the course content and grading procedures. 5 Solicit students’ autobiographical information on index cards. 6 Talk about yourself and your own school experiences. 7 Close with mention of the materials that students will need for the next day and a preview of the content to be studied then. 8 Dismiss the class at the bell. According to Brooks (1985a), the most important part of opening day in the high school was the explanation of some basic rules and procedures. The rules had to be reviewed – indeed, taught – and they also had to be clear and relevant. Effective teachers dealt with the following five aspects of classroom order in the rules and procedures. The first was entry, with the usual rule that students must be seated by the time the bell rang. The second regulated interaction – for example, raise a hand to be recognized before talking (except during discussions, when the teacher specifically asks students to discuss topics with one another without teacher acknowledgment). The third aspect was attention, with the usual rule that only one person speak at a time with everyone else attending to what the speaker says (this included the rule about not talking while the teacher is talking). The fourth governed exit, with the teacher, not the bell, dismissing the class. The fifth aspect was classroom conduct, including specific rules for using equipment, leaving the classroom to go to the washroom, gum chewing, and so on. Of course, many of these rules were school rules that teachers had to follow even if they did not agree with the rule (e.g., no caps or hats in the classroom). There was a common, effective way of explaining the rules and procedures on the first day. The teacher stated the rule and then discussed a student-centred rationale with the group. Next, the consequences of breaking the rule were explained in order to communicate accountability. Finally, the teacher described what an infraction would look like, in this way gaining credibility with the students and making clear what was acceptable or not. Overall, on the first day the successful teachers displayed a particular array of signs. They were businesslike, getting two jobs done at once whenever possible (e.g., simultaneously checking roll and establishing seating charts). They were serious when explaining rules and proce-

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dures, and smiled when discussing course content and projects. These teachers maintained eye contact, scanned the class, and communicated their interest in the students. In general, the less successful teachers showed a different set of signs. They were slower to begin the class with a call to order. They did not overlap functions and so took longer to get through the necessities, with more transitions. The transitions were more ragged. They used fewer rationales for the rules and procedures, thereby establishing less cooperative learning climates and leaving students unsure about what to expect. The second days, as a result, were less effective, and a less successful pattern of classroom conduct was established. Organization and Management during the First Few Weeks Expectations are communicated by teachers and students, and a community is forged from a collection of individuals. Here, teachers influence students and students influence teachers. This mutual socialization occurs in all classrooms, but there are things teachers can do to structure responsibly the social negotiations for the classroom norms (Anderson & Prawat, 1983). Research conducted at the Teacher Development Center in Austin, Texas and elsewhere endorses the following actions for the first weeks of term: 1 Plan the first day well, as it is key to establishing student expectations about the classroom and the subject area. 2 Negotiate and teach routines systematically early in the term as they are needed. This means discussing them with the students, with all participants expecting to change their perspective somewhat. Teaching routines also means being explicit and clear about desired student actions and thinking aloud about the reasons with the students. 3 Develop a short list of classroom rules with students, with student input, with negotiation. The idea is to make the classroom a jointlycreated environment for promoting everyone’s feelings of belongingness and comfort. 4 Very early in the term, especially during the first week, ‘sell’ the subject to the students. Convince them how important the subject is for them both now and in the future. Provide some engaging, even hands-on, activities to help them. 5 Ensure a high rate of success for the students, but do not insult them. Aim high.

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6 Don’t assume one-trial learning. Realize that students have had many different experiences before entering the classroom, but perhaps not with the topic at hand. Don’t be reluctant to repeat important bits of instruction; better, rephrase what was said or done earlier with additional examples. 7 Be as clear as possible in all communications. Be alert to various signs that students do not understand. 8 The purposes for organizing and managing the classroom are to promote student learning and understanding and to facilitate student self-control. For this reason, teachers should try to see themselves as teachers who do a little managing, not as managers who do a little teaching. You may have noticed one major difference between Brooks’ results and the principles derived from the work of other researchers. Brooks suggests that on the first day effective teachers communicate clearly a few critical procedures and rules. The principles for the first few weeks of term suggest the importance of ongoing negotiation, with teachers prepared to change a bit and students prepared to change a bit as shared understandings are reached. On the first day, communicate a few essentials that are least likely to be negotiable. Give explanations that make sense in terms of student welfare. As you require more and more elaborate procedures, introduce them, think out loud about them, and involve the students in the thinking, explaining, and negotiating. There is a difference between what can be accomplished in the first short period and over the early weeks of the term. Maintaining What Has Been Accomplished Together Teachers and students shift their attention imperceptibly from establishing a learning community to maintaining what they have accomplished together. Many different actions have been used successfully by teachers and their students. Remember that various actions may be more successful for some teachers than for others because of different styles of interacting with adolescents, differences in groups of adolescents, and variations in teacher personalities. To maintain what has been accomplished in your classroom, you should do the following: 1 With the students, you should monitor activities to ensure that everyone is moving productively towards the mutually agreed upon goals and purposes.

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2 You should monitor signs in student actions by constantly scanning the classroom. Move around the room on a random basis, especially after you have just assigned work. This encourages students to begin work right away; it also places you in a position to answer individual students’ questions about the task without taking up everyone else’s time. Be ‘with it’ (Kounin, 1970) by watching and recording; students are less likely to stray off task if they know you are observing and assisting. 3 Deter inappropriate behaviour immediately (the behaviourist dictum to ignore undesired behaviour has disastrous consequences in the typical classroom). As quickly and quietly as possible, redirect the student’s attention to the task at hand. Make direct eye contact, gesture, and move into the student’s space as necessary. If a reprimand is necessary, make it brief and make it as private as possible. If further attention is required, deal with the matter after class. Only small corrective measures are required to nip problems in the bud, and nobody loses much energy or status when they are. Remember that during class time you should always be trying to advance your instructional and social agendas while de-emphasizing the classroom as a negative and punitive place. Do not confront or embarrass students in front of peers; you may win the battle but you will probably lose the war. 4 Keep students involved. They should expect to be called on. This tactic has the advantage of maintaining their attention without you having to single them out with non-task directives, which are often negative and non-productive, as in ‘Mike, put away that comb and pay attention!’ 5 Provide for one-minute stretch breaks or the chance for physical movement whenever you sense a general restlessness in the class. If one student is especially fidgety, send him or her on an errand within the school. One drawback to our school system is that just as adolescents are undergoing tremendous physical and psychological changes, we expect them to sit still for many hours every day. 6 Change your activities and instructional approaches frequently. For high school students in school, the average attention span varies from about fifteen to thirty minutes, with an average concentration period of up to fifteen minutes. Older students display the longer average times. This means that you should plan on changing your instructional activities about every twenty minutes (naturally, this time will vary with the activity and the class). Be ready to include a variety of activities such as audiovisual presentations, brief lectures, and structured peer discussions.

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7 Transitions are potentially disruptive (see the Focal Problem box, pp. 84–5). Begin as soon as possible after students arrive, follow the guidelines below for making effective transitions, and make students aware of all tasks required of them during class (for the latter, use a list on the blackboard or an overhead projector). 8 Use your sense of humour (with judgment) to keep the class light but focused. But laugh at yourself and not at the students. Because this is a very self-conscious time for most of them, they are easy to embarrass and quick to resent teachers’ actions (Martin, 1987). 9 Follow consistently the rules and consequences you have worked out with the class. The rules will be tested by some students, and you must follow them to avoid being seen as weak or showing favouritism. If the rules are not working, don’t hesitate to renegotiate them publicly. Do not, I repeat do not, make threats you cannot or will not carry out. If you do you will rapidly lose both respect and credibility. 10 Provide a comfortable amount of structure in class routines and instructional endeavours without stifling initiative or creativity, or adding fear. 11 Adjust the physical arrangement to support your teaching and management. Recall some of the environmental influences on teaching outlined in chapter 2, and do not accept the present classroom structure as fixed. Caution: this advice is probably not suitable for pre-service teachers, who are dropping into, and then out of, a teaching situation created by someone else. Uprooting all the lab benches for a short period of time will not win you many friends among the high school’s chemistry teachers. 12 Give reasons for the way you want things done. Think out loud in your management practices just as you think out loud in the rest of your teaching. Be a model with your firmness and fairness. 13 Make the students responsible for their work. Retain a task focus (without losing your humanity or sense of humour) by concentrating on the lesson at hand. Relate the relevance of each aspect of student work to life (or sometimes to grades), stress the need to complete all assignments, have students maintain orderly records of class proceedings, check and grade assignments frequently, and work with many rather than few students during seatwork. 14 Organize your materials. Have your teaching materials right at hand (the class can disintegrate quickly while you fumble through huge piles of paper in one corner of the room trying to find your key overhead). Do not waste valuable class time on extraneous matters (for

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Focal Problem Transitions in Class Because the potential for disruptions in class is highest during the transitions from non-task to task situations or from one teaching segment to another, let us first look at transitions as a sociocultural phenomenon. During every transition, the signs and rules change about what teacher and students are doing. No instruction is occurring, students often engage in brief social interactions with their peers or are moving to other class areas, and the teacher is getting ready for the next instructional segment. What accounts for ‘smooth’ rather than ‘rough’ transitions in different classes? In one study using videotaped lessons (H.A. Smith, 1985), three teachers of intermediate French as a second language were examined in detail for their behaviours in and around transitions. In their classes, Ms Able (these names are pseudonyms) created smooth transitions, Ms Charles displayed much rougher transitions, and Ms Baker fell somewhere in between. The videotapes showed Ms Able’s ability to verbally and non-verbally mark clearly the beginnings and endings of transitions, to remain task-oriented and businesslike throughout the transitions, and to address any behavioural indiscretions immediately and quietly. Ms Charles, on the other hand, was often ambiguous in marking the transitional boundaries, was often pulled by the students into task-irrelevant discussions, and spent much of her time addressing minor off-task disciplinary matters. In general, these data agreed with those reported elsewhere in supporting the following guidelines for managing transitions successfully: • Prepare for the transitions in advance. (‘You have five minutes more to work on question 7. What you don’t finish is homework for tonight.’) • Start and end transitions with clear verbal statements, and support those statements with unambiguous non-verbal signs. To begin a transition: ‘OK, put your notebooks away and take out your activity sheets from yesterday,’ while moving to the front centre of the classroom with the relevant sheets in hand and facing the class directly. To end a transition: ‘Are we ready? Kristin,

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•

•

•

•

what answer did you get for number 1?’ with a voice tone that reflects more of a statement of fact than a question for the initial inquiry, and a posture and bearing that says, ‘We’re back in business.’ During transitions, issue your directives clearly, in logical order, and in small, discrete units. Repeat them only as necessary. (‘Take out your exercise books ... Open them to page 97 ... page 97 ... 97 ... Exercise D.’) Wait for your instructions to be carried out before trying to proceed to the next unit of work. This usually means standing, waiting, and watching while the students prepare themselves. Do not begin while some students are still fiddling with their materials. Remain task-oriented throughout the transition. (Student: ‘Does anybody have their money for the school T-shirts?’ Teacher: ‘Can you get that at recess?’ This is said immediately, quickly, and in statement rather than question tone.) Stay keenly aware of student activities during the transition. A student going directly to the pencil sharpener is acceptable at this time, but someone wandering slowly down the aisle to chat with a peer is not.

In passing, the H.A. Smith (1985) study did not agree with Arlin’s (1979), which favoured fewer transitions per class. Smith found that the best-managed class (Ms Able’s) had significantly more transitions – and thus a larger number of instructional segments – than the most disruptive class (Ms Charles’s). From this result it appears that it is not the number of transitions that is important to smooth class functioning, but rather how those transitions are managed. Other factors may include the subject matter and the age or maturity of the students.

example, develop an efficient routine for collecting field trip money). Have regular and clear routines for communicating assignments to students (for example, keep one corner of your blackboard for this purpose only). Try to avoid confusion, uncertainty, and being pulled off task. 15 Finally, and most important, respect your students, listen to them, be responsive, and enjoy them!

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This list of key principles of class management may look intimidatingly long, but many of the items are tightly linked. Together, they constitute a range of related practices followed by experienced practitioners and recommended by researchers who have observed successful teachers. As you teach and reflect on your teaching, you will develop your own body of practical or working knowledge. Talk with other teachers about their successful practices and how they handle difficult situations; they will probably tell you that effective classroom management strategies can play a large role in your success as a teacher. Signs in Discipline You have done your best to prepare class lessons that will engage your students. You believe you have prepared them well for the classroom rules and routines that you have negotiated with them. You think you have been consistent in following those rules and in addressing any deviations from them, and still you are required to face discrete incidents that could threaten everything that you (and most of the class) have tried to establish. What should you do next? This section of the chapter presents some elements of both the art and science of discipline. Teachers can follow rules to restore classroom order (the science), but how they apply those rules (the art) determines what happens thereafter. When management breaks down and disciplinary measures are required, teachers’ communication skills are put to a firm test. The following discussion focuses on some general strategies and tactics to apply to the broad area of classroom discipline. Two important points here are that teachers need to enunciate their own philosophies of discipline, and that a key objective of teachers is to strive for student self-discipline. The previous section, on management, underlined the need for students and teachers to work together and to negotiate so as to establish a positive learning climate and to prevent disruptions that interfere with learning. In these endeavours, prevention is a powerful and necessary ingredient. However, every teacher knows that these preventive strategies will not always succeed. Because a few students – or even one – can make concentrating and learning impossible for everyone, teachers also need to incorporate supportive and corrective strategies into their practices. The need for strategies that are developed cooperatively with the students is a recurring theme in the research on corrective actions, just as it is on prevention. Such cooperation and negotiation depend on the mutual acknowledgment and appreciation of others’ views.

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Engaged students do not create discipline problems.

Examining Teachers’ Beliefs about Discipline Teachers’ own beliefs and actions can contribute to ‘discipline problems,’ as well as to the solutions to those problems. In a classic paper on the topic, Kindsvatter (1982) argued that it is vital for teachers to consider two matters that are often overlooked. The first concerns the contexts in which schooling takes place. One of these contexts is the sociocultural conditions beyond the control of teachers that may contribute to student misbehaviour; the other is the specific context of the school and classroom, which can influence how strategies or approaches are implemented. The second matter raised by Kindsvatter is the need for teachers to examine their own beliefs, attitudes, and actions. This author suggests that teachers consider the following five points as a guide to such selfexamination: 1 Personal belief systems are tacit, and unless a deliberate effort is made, they are unlikely to be subjected to scrutiny. 2 Teachers should examine the consistency – or lack of it – between their beliefs and their actions. 3 By examining how well their teaching, management practices, and discipline approaches respond to the needs and perceptions of their

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students, teachers can make some important adjustments to their behaviours. 4 More emphasis on the shared responsibility of teachers and students for student motivation may enhance student learning and reduce misbehaviour. 5 Self-examination can help teachers to respond more rationally, rather than emotionally, to student misbehaviour. Still drawing from Kindsvatter (1982), table 3.1 highlights the variety of possible causes of student misbehaviour. The table also shows how preventive classroom management, teachers’ efforts to restore control or discipline, and follow-up actions that provide for long-term improvement all relate to one another. Teachers who reflect on their beliefs about discipline and who think through the intent and consequences of their responses can help students understand their actions and the consequences. They can help adolescents find reasons to act responsibly, as well as ways to do so. We have considered teachers’ approaches to discipline, but what are the students’ perceptions and beliefs? A Canadian study from a few years ago (Coatup, 1988) found that adolescents perceive teachers as using the same discipline strategies for most problems. Specifically, these strategies were detention and public correction, which are public strategies that call attention to the misbehaviour. However, these students also expressed preference for teacher strategies that would not draw attention to the student, such as private correction, looking at the student, and holding a conference. They did support publicly correcting a student for talking out of turn. The students tended to tailor their preferred corrective actions to match the nature of the student misaction. Coatup also showed differences between the responses of girls and those of boys, between rural and urban schools, and among classrooms. Having discussed this issue with adolescents, Thorson (2003) reported that classroom rules should be culturally appropriate for the class, positive (that is, what students should be doing), few in number (that is, from three to five), designed by students, and focused on clearly specified behaviours. These same students reported that good teachers are interesting and relevant and that they present new material and concentrate on learning. In general, then, the research suggests that it would be informative for teachers to ask students about their views on the most frequent discipline problems occurring in the classroom and their preferences for handling these problems. In these discussions, students and teachers could begin to hear the views of the other – a necessary condition for

Table 3.1. A model for classroom management and discipline Sources of misbehaviour

Prevention/class management

Discipline/regain control

Follow-up/Prevention

Casual or capricious actions

Create positive climate. Include negotiation. Establish fair and reasonable expectations.

Use reminder, reproval, restraint.

Enforce reasonable consequences. Have private conference.

Students’ negative attitudes toward teacher or class

Create positive climate. Include negotiation. Establish fair and reasonable expectations. Consider student perceptions, attitudes, and expectations.

Be firm, fair, considerate. Avoid anger and retaliation.

Have group conference. Assess appropriateness of teaching. Adjust teaching and management.

Chronic adjustment problems of individual students

Create positive climate. Include negotiation. Establish fair and reasonable expectations. Communicate clearly the reasonable expectations.

Be compassionate, but firm. Ascertain cause of outburst. Remove student if necessary.

Have individual conference. Assess and adjust teaching. Make referral if necessary.

Volatile interpersonal relationships

Involve students in developing the expectations.

Analyse group dynamics. Conduct class meeting.

Guide class towards ownership of its internal problems.

Source: Kindsvatter (1982)

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arriving at cooperative, negotiated solutions to corrective actions when discipline problems occur in the classroom. Challenges to Classroom Order There are many possible challenges to classroom order. In this section the case of Mr Altonen offers one typical set of challenges, which will be examined in detail so as to provide a model for analysis. This case will be followed by a more cursory treatment of other typical challenges. In this discussion of discipline, three points are emphasized: order is valued because it allows students to concentrate on learning, and teachers to concentrate on teaching; all actions should be instructional, preventive, and enhancing of students’ self-responsibility, rather than punitive; and negotiated solutions are better than imposed ones. The Challenges to Mr Altonen Mr Altonen felt that his classes had gone well and that his students had behaved well during the first two weeks of school. In the third week, however, problems became apparent to him. While he was making presentations to the class, students at the back of the class were talking to one another. When he wasn’t watching, some students were throwing erasers and wads of paper, while others were passing notes to their friends. At first there was no obvious interference with classroom activities. Then, students began shouting out their answers although Mr Altonen had asked them to raise their hands. At first he ignored these responses but by the end of the second week he was sometimes responding to the called out comments. By the beginning of the third week, two or three students were off task all the time. When the students were working at their desks, Mr Altonen found himself trapped at his desk by three or four students who needed help, so he could not see what was taking place in the rest of the classroom. He did not have a clear view of the many students who were not choosing to work diligently, or of the knot of boys who were regularly out of their seats. On Friday of the third week, when he took in the students’ notebooks to check their week’s work, he realized that much less work had been completed than he had assigned. Analysing the Challenges to Mr Altonen Think about Mr Altonen’s difficulties. His classes got off to a good start in the first week, but some problems surfaced in the second week, and

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they grew in the third week. It is not unusual for the first week to go relatively smoothly, while students are growing accustomed to the teacher’s ways and learning his signs of being. However, in the second and third weeks, oversights on the part of the teacher may begin to show in the students’ actions. Because he had a fairly good start, Mr Altonen can analyse the slippage and get on track again. Even a very good system can be undermined unless the teacher works actively to maintain it. Can you see the sources of Mr Altonen’s problems? Several of the contributing factors are analysed next. One source of difficulty was that he did not monitor his students’ behaviour in an active way. Students were talking and throwing paper and erasers, and he was not aware of it. Mr Altonen was not displaying ‘withitness,’ to use Kounin’s (1970) term. When you read the description, it may be hard to imagine how a teacher could miss these things, but think about how busy a classroom can be. It is full of people doing many things. Also, teachers – especially beginning teachers – are often preoccupied with how they are doing, with their own survival, and with getting through the content. Unless the teacher makes a deliberate and conscientious effort to watch for and monitor inappropriate behaviour, a great deal of it can go on without being seen. Mr. Altonen compounded these monitoring problems by sitting at his desk instead of circulating among the students. Going out among the students would have eliminated the problem of students blocking his view and would have alerted him to the problem of students not completing assignments. Because their efforts were not being monitored, some students were avoiding work. Perhaps they were frustrated, perhaps they were practising incorrectly, and certainly they were getting some signs early in the school year about how accountability was to be shared between them and Mr Altonen. There was a second problem, caused in part by poor monitoring. Mr Altonen was failing to act quickly to stop inappropriate actions. When misbehaviour is not seen or is ignored by the teacher and at the same time is given attention by peers, it is likely to occur more and more. Other students, seeing that such actions are not stopped by the teacher, are likely to follow suit. They are learning that such behaviour is acceptable in this teacher’s classroom even if they know that it is generally unacceptable. Clearly, in order to preserve an environment in which students can concentrate and learn, the teacher has to act immediately to stop inappropriate actions. A third problem was that the consequences for behaviour were inconsistent in Mr Altonen’s classroom. Remember that his students were supposed to raise their hands if they wanted to answer a question or make a comment.

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The point is not that all teachers must have this procedure; rather, once the procedure has been instituted, the teacher needs to enforce it until it becomes habit for the students. When some students deviated from the procedure, Mr Altonen should have reminded them of the correct one. Instead, he allowed the calling out to go on, and probably encouraged it by occasionally responding to students who called out. By sometimes ignoring and sometimes attending to the calling out, Mr Altonen was teaching the students that this behaviour would work if they persisted with it. He was not teaching the students to do what he had asked of them. This example indicates that at least three things were contributing to the discipline problems arising in Mr Altonen’s classes: he was not actively monitoring the class, he was not stopping inappropriate behaviour quickly, and he was not using consequences consistently. There are three actions that Mr Altonen can take right away to restore discipline in the classroom: 1 Monitor the classroom constantly. 2 Quickly, gently, and firmly stop unacceptable behaviour. 3 Use consequences consistently. monitoring Monitoring means being alert to how successful your students are in completing their academic tasks in the classroom, and how successful they are in meeting your expectations for classroom conduct. When you notice signs of deviation, then you must provide information that alleviates the situation. This information should clarify for students what they can and cannot do. Also, be alert to opportunities to provide genuine praise both to the group publicly and to individuals privately. You may be able to praise individual adolescents publicly if the individual and the group can handle this. Remember to make praise specific so the students know what to do next time. dealing with inappropriate actions quickly By inappropriate actions, we mean ones that run counter to the rules and procedures you have negotiated and adopted with the students. Generally these are behaviours that prevent the students from getting on with learning, and you from getting on with teaching. These events occur frequently in classrooms and need to be handled promptly without being escalated. Teachers have found it best to adress such actions right away. Even if you have already let some inappropriate behaviour pass, today is

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still sooner than tomorrow. Usually a small-scale intervention takes only a little time and does not distract from the activities in the class. Researchers (e.g., Emmer, Evertson & Worsham, 2006; Rinne, 1997) recommend the following four ways to handle minor inappropriate behaviours. 1 First, make eye contact with the misbehaving student. If that does not work, move closer to the student’s desk – a tactic known as proximity control. Use a signal (that is, a formalized sign) to terminate the action (for example, point to the place such as a desk where the student should be, put your finger to your lips to signal that talking should stop, and so on). Monitor the situation to ensure that the student stops the inappropriate action and begins the appropriate behaviour. These interventions do not draw the attention of the rest of the students, nor do they interrupt the flow of the class discussion. 2 If the student is not following a procedure correctly, remind the student of the procedure. Ask the student to do the steps involved so you can see that he or she understands how to carry them out. Be prepared to give feedback and to teach the student if necessary. Often thinking out loud as you do the procedure with the student will provide the mediation the student requires in order to follow the steps. Use a personal tone and volume of voice so that only the student involved hears you. This is personal communication. If a number of students are experiencing the same difficulty, move away from the individual student before explaining the procedure to the entire class in a voice loud enough for all to hear. 3 Ask the student to state the appropriate rule or procedure. Ask the student to follow it. Again, this may be better handled as a private communication. 4 Tell the student to stop the inappropriate action. Monitor the student until you see the appropriate behaviour. Then acknowledge the appropriate behaviour. Often simply telling or asking the student to stop is sufficient, especially if you are quick off the mark. Reflect on these four straightforward ways to handle potential discipline problems. All are intended to help the student learn appropriate actions. You will be more effective with these techniques if you remain calm and see yourself as teaching the student, instead of becoming angry at each rule violation and taking it personally. Adolescents tend to socialize with their friends and to ‘goof off.’ Our job is to teach them how to do the expected classroom behaviour. Treat the misbehaving student just as

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you would a student having difficulty with some item of content. The student needs to learn something that he or she does not know, something you can teach. The guideline for deciding to intervene generally goes something like this: Is the behaviour something that poses a threat to the management and instructional system? Does it affect the students’ willingness to cooperate and to involve themselves in their work? If the answer to both questions is no, you should probably let the matter go. But stay alert to see if you were right. Small deviations (such as whispering between two students, a student talking to herself while working, an infrequent call-out in class, daydreaming on occasion) are often best left for the moment. Otherwise, the flow of the lesson can be broken by a nagging teacher. If you are concerned, and if it seems that your action will be effective (and no other students are getting into the act), give delayed feedback. Speak to the student, privately, at a more convenient time, perhaps at the end of class. using consequences consistently Considerable research suggests that adolescents seek a consistent environment; furthermore, when they don’t get consistency they test the rules to see what the limits are. Some actions have natural consequences: the person who spills the pot of paint should mop it up, the student who writes on the desk should scrub until the writing is removed, the student who leaves the wrench at the back of the shop should replace it in the cupboard. Here, the consequences are natural and sensible. Some classroom actions have consequences that you have identified with the students through negotiation: a lost book is paid for, a student who is late makes up the time after school. Some consequences may be established by school policy; for example, a student without running shoes cannot enter the gymnasium, and a student who misses ten classes must withdraw from the course. Once you have identified the consequences for a particular action, you must follow through consistently when the rule is violated. If you don’t, you are giving the students the message that you are arbitrary in your use of authority. They may be confused, those who are punished or reminded may be resentful, and those who are not punished or reminded may feel that they have special status. Inconsistency often increases the number or severity of inappropriate actions because students test to find the conditions under which you do enforce the rules. The issue of professional judgment arises again. You don’t want to be obsessively consistent. On occasion, a student will have a valid reason for

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breaking a rule. There may be extenuating circumstances. If the incident is a public one, you may have to think out loud with the students to show that making an exception to the rule was sensible and fair. Also, once you begin working with a set of consequences, you may find that they need review. Some consequences are too cumbersome or disruptive to continue using, and some simply are incompatible with the desired outcome. Explain (think out loud) with your students what the changes are and why; seek their cooperation at the outset and respond to any queries they may have. You are seeking to be recognized as sensible and flexible and as exercising professional judgment, not simply as being consistent. In your analyses of situations, be they private or shared with students, keep in mind that classroom order is valuable only to the extent that it enables teachers and students to concentrate on learning. Perhaps the ‘why’ needs as much consideration as the ‘how.’ When you act, remember (and share with the students) that you intend your actions to be instructional, preventive, and enhancing of the students’ self-responsibility. Thinking and talking through the challenges to classroom order will ensure negotiated rather than imposed solutions. Other Challenges chronic work avoidance Some students simply do not do the assigned schoolwork, whether in class or at home. How should work avoidance be treated? You need to discern whether the work is at the appropriate level for the student and interesting to the student (and his or her classmates). Keep records, try to identify reasons with other staff, and (probably) seek parental help in monitoring the situation. You may need to apply the appropriate consequences, even if that means a failing grade, if you find that the demands are appropriate and that all reasonable forms of support have been rejected by the student. First, however, insist that all classwork and homework be completed and take steps to ensure that this happens. Work avoidance is often a feature of classrooms in which teachers push on with the curriculum without requiring that everyone keep fully up to date. habitual rule breaking Habitual rule breaking by one student may require imaginative problem solving by the teacher. How should you deal with this in one student? First, keep the situation in perspective and keep your sense of humour. Your goal is to help the student learn self-control. Seat the student away from others, try to catch the incident before it happens, correct it simply,

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and be consistent. Develop long-term approaches by having the student self-monitor. For this, you should use a list of reminders – something the two of you should work out together. Treat the matter privately as much as possible, and stay positive. Apply genuine praise as merited. hostility and violence Hostility by one student? If you encounter this, you’ve probably missed some earlier signs of discontent. However, this is a tough one when it happens in front of the class. Don’t escalate the situation. Try to get the incident out of the public domain as quickly and quietly as possible. Ask the student to leave and cool off, perhaps in the hall. Or go with the student to the hall or to the counselling room, after you call (to the administrative office, the departmental office, or the counselling office) for someone to take over your class. At the very least, ask the class to proceed with the work at hand. If the student will not leave, send another student to get an administrator or counsellor. Sometimes the student will cool off, and the two of you can then resolve the situation quickly. Don’t continue the conflict, and don’t bear grudges. At all times, focus on the student’s actions and not on the student’s personality (say ‘We all agreed that those words are not acceptable here’ rather than ‘What kind of ignorant idiot are you to mouth off like that?’). Don’t take the confrontation personally, as you may not know what has caused the student to blow up. If the actions are repeated, act decisively to help the student and yourself. Think about bringing in another professional and, if necessary, ask to have the student placed in another class. At any rate, make sure the problem is dealt with directly and resolved. Beyond the classroom, schools offer environments that seek to counteract the practice and reinforcement of adolescent aggression. However, schools must not resort to autocratic management and discipline practices, even in responding to aggressive students (Gathercoal, 1990). As problems arise between classmates and between students and adults, it is important that schools provide opportunities for youth to learn and practise conflict resolution strategies. Cooperative and collaborative learning activities provide students with opportunities to learn to work with their peers, present divergent opinions, explain their reasoning, and negotiate to consensus. How do you deal with incidents of fighting, indecency, or display of weapons? Unfortunately, such incidents seem to be increasing in frequency, although they remain rare in many jurisdictions. We hope you never encounter them, but you should bear in mind the possibility and

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Tips for Teachers On Managing Classes and Students 1 In class, try to create as much quality learning time as possible. 2 Be attentive (‘with it’) to everything happening in the classroom. 3 Adjust managerial strategies to suit the age and developmental levels of the students. 4 When establishing classroom rules and procedures, do so with knowledge of the school’s rules and environment. 5 Watch closely for early signs of student boredom and inattention. 6 Focus on inappropriate behaviour instead of criticizing the person performing it. 7 Strive to enhance your communication (not just verbal) skills. 8 Use assertive discipline – that is, make expectations clear, state consequences for misbehaviour, and then follow through. 9 Before deciding on an action, determine who owns the problem – the teacher or the student – and then resolve it accordingly.

plan sensible responses. Use your own judgment as to whether your intervention is likely to result in injury to you or someone else. Often you will decide to go for help or send a reliable student for help. Disperse the crowd or remove the incident from the classroom, after getting the names of the participants and witnesses. Try to stay calm. Report the incident to the administration, which will want to know about the matter and will probably take the lead in dealing with it. Promoting Student Self-Discipline and Responsibility for Learning Most experienced teachers try to develop their students’ self-control and sense of responsibility for their learning. In this way, students learn to become accountable for their actions, for learning in class, and for following the rules and procedures agreed to in negotiations between the teacher and themselves. According to Rinne (1997, 93), ‘students need to learn how to know themselves as learners, motivate themselves, and take

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corrective action when they are not learning effectively.’ With the teacher’s help, these students can learn to become ‘self-regulated’ (Corno, 1992) or self-sufficient learners. So teach them to postpone gratification – for example, to take turns rather than grab, and to wait for a bigger prize next week instead of getting a smaller prize today. Promote their self-control gradually – for example, offer students choices in activities, allow them to correct their own or someone else’s class work, encourage personal goal setting, let them contribute to classroom governance, ask them to evaluate you, and encourage them to organize their own learning. Teach students to talk to themselves (that is, to have internal dialogues) about how they feel and about how to engage with the tasks ahead of them. Build environments for self-reliant behaviour – for example, loosen the requirements for an assignment, encourage second efforts, use peer feedback, preview potential difficulties, and model problem-solving behaviour. And finally, train students in study skills such as how to memorize and remember things, how to take tests, how to organize a learning place, and how to improve their reading comprehension. Some Dos and Don’ts of Discipline The previous section offered a general orientation and, I hope, a solid foundation to the art and science of discipline. This section offers a few brief tips on discipline derived from the above discussion, other research, and the wisdom of experienced teachers. Additional details and other ideas can be found in the many publications available on classroom management and discipline. In General, What Should Teachers Do? 1 Prevent disruptions, don’t cure them. This was the theme of the first part of this chapter: if you are a good classroom manager, you will face many fewer disruptions than you would otherwise. Remember that an important part of management involves managing your instruction: make your curriculum relevant, be organized, plan ahead, vary your lessons, and so on. In addition, offer frequent praise for students who are working well. 2 Be firm, fair, consistent, and prompt. Firmness does not mean harshness; you can be friendly but firm. Being fair means giving each person what he or she needs; it does not mean treating everyone alike. For example, you might say ‘I can’t give Jenny extra time to write the test because that would not be fair to the others.’ But Jenny needs the

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3

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extra time, while the others do not. Consistency means not forgetting to apply the classroom rules that have been negotiated. Address infractions promptly. Use non-verbal signs to handle disruptions. For example, invade the students’ space, walk around the classroom, gaze directly at the offender, and pause in your lesson. These non-verbal methods are less intrusive and offensive than verbal statements and are often more effective. Remember, too, that your primary job is to teach. The more time you spend disrupting your own lessons with verbal requests and reminders, the less time you will spend teaching your subject. Give students the benefit of the doubt concerning infractions. In other words, do not go looking for trouble or you are sure to find it. If you must confront a student about misbehaviour, do it privately to avoid student (or your own!) embarrassment and a public encounter. Use humour to defuse potential power struggles and to save the other’s ‘face.’ Avoid making threats, especially ones you cannot carry out. Threats of any kind place students on the defensive and may escalate rather than ease a situation. Focus on the behaviour, not the personality. That is, look at the act, not the actor. Also, treat students with dignity and respect, even if some of their behaviours are not acceptable in your classroom. Consider reasons for the student’s misbehaviour, as difficulty with the work or physical problems such as poor hearing may trigger student outbursts. Watch for student signs on which to act. Let bygones be bygones. Do not hold grudges, and let each day begin anew. Your job is to listen, to offer options, and not to judge.

In General, What Should Teachers Not Do? 1 Punish the offender with extra written work. Most writing of lines and related assignments seldom fit the crime; furthermore, they create a negative association with academic tasks. 2 Punish the entire class for the transgressions of a few. Usually this action suggests a lack of withitness and general class control. Those who had nothing to do with the misbehaviour (probably most of the class) will resent it. 3 Send large groups of students to the principal’s office on a regular basis. Although there are occasions to send students to the principal for misbehaviour, class discipline is the teacher’s job and should not be passed on to someone else.

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4 Look at things being passed furtively around the classroom. You never know what you will see or who will be embarrassed if you look at what you seize. Instead, simply tear up the material and dispose of it, or place it on your desk for the rest of the period, or tell the student to put it away until class is over. 5 Take confrontations personally. As noted earlier, students are facing various pressures at school and may also be facing substantial disruptions at home. So an acting-out behaviour may have much less to do with the teacher than with the other things pressing in on the student. Management for Pre-Service Teachers Earlier in this chapter and as a pre-service teacher, you probably thought: ‘But right now I can’t benefit from planning routines before term, or even from the research on first day and first week management practices.’ You are right in that you will not have complete control over the situation. However, you now have a good idea about things to ask your cooperating or associate teacher. Find out what was done to set up class routines with the students. Ask and observe – watch for the signs of the experienced teacher. Find out if you are expected to be consistent with the teacher’s system of management. Learn the students’ names as quickly as possible, and call them by name. If you want to learn to do the things suggested in this chapter, then you will have to try them. You can learn a great deal about managing classrooms during your field experiences. However, research suggests that preservice and beginning teachers who rely only on learning from experience may develop a ‘group management’ orientation rather than an ‘intellectual leader’ orientation to thinking about their work as classroom teachers (Lanier & Little, 1986). Field experiences may make you feel overwhelmed. The press of classroom events can lead even experienced teachers to lose their focus on what students are understanding and learning. This chapter has focused on the management of groups of students, and all of the suggestions made have been derived from classroom research. However, your actions will be situated in the context of a particular classroom and must serve your most important concern in the classroom – student understanding and learning. You need management tools to handle whatever arises in the classroom. But more importantly, you need intellectual tools to evaluate the quality of the education you are providing, and to evaluate critically suggestions for improvement in your teaching. These same intellectual tools will enable you to ask ‘why,’ not just ‘how,’ about education in general, and to treat technique as a means to speci-

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fied educational ends. The emphasis then will fall on what is taught and for what purpose, and the pedagogical and classroom management processes will flow from those purposes. Issues of management and discipline are especially challenging for pre-service teachers, who show up in classrooms without knowing the history of the classes or the students. In fact, the typical pre-service experience has been described as akin to falling through the roof of a house and landing in the middle of a party, only to find that you are the host. Given the importance of the cultural aspects of classrooms, such a situation is laden with potential difficulties. Because difficulty with class management is a matter raised often by school personnel, some of its major elements have been outlined above. This section provides one more view of classroom management and discipline. As presented by McDaniel (1986), the ten principles listed below represent a combination of approaches that are both old and new, practical and theoretical, pedagogical and psychological. They touch on aspects already raised in this chapter and in chapter 2. These principles are presented primarily to meet the needs of pre-service teachers who have dropped into a situation only to find themselves hosting a party. 1 The focusing principle. Make sure you have everyone’s attention before beginning any unit of instruction. Beginning teachers often assume that if they begin sooner than this, the students will cease their extraneous activities. Too often, such teachers end up teaching only to themselves and the front row. 2 The principle of direct instruction. Get the students on task immediately and keep them there. Naturally, this is easier to do if the tasks are relevant (to the students), interesting (to the students), and varied (to the students). 3 The monitoring principle. I’ve already emphasized the importance of monitoring. Try to make contact with every student during the course of a lesson. Your one-to-one interpersonal exchanges concerning tasks or behaviours can do much to promote a positive classroom atmosphere and increase your knowledge of your students. 4 The modelling principle. As a teacher, model for your students. Show courtesy, respect (both self- and other-), self-control, promptness, organization, and enthusiasm. McDaniel (1986) also recommends using a soft, low-pitched voice to promote classroom calm and to reduce the incidence of loud retorts from the students. 5 The cuing principle. Establish cues, especially non-verbal ones, as signs to support your routines. For example, you can flick the light switch

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6

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to gain everyone’s attention for a brief time. Let the students cue you, too. For example, a student standing up can be a cue for you to call for a short class stretch. The principle of environmental control. The teacher can display subdued control through dress, voice, and movement, and also can alter the classroom to make it more (or less!) stimulating for the students. Puzzles, personal bulletin boards, and novel seat arrangements are all possibilities. Let music play at appropriate times (however, develop a routine with student help about which music should be played from one occasion to the next). The object of such interventions is to enhance both learning and behaviour. The principle of low-profile intervention. The purpose is to keep behaviour on task by means that are as discrete, unobtrusive, quick, and smooth as possible. Three specific examples: Move nonchalantly towards a potentially off-task student. Quietly open the student’s book to the proper page while going on with the lesson. Drop the student’s name into your ongoing lesson without any threat or expected reply (for example, ‘You will recall, Vince, that when we were discussing edible garden weeds yesterday we said that the milkweed should never be eaten raw.’) The principle of assertive discipline. This is a higher-profile intervention than the previous one, but it remains non-hostile. Here, teachers communicate their high expectations to students, state the desired behavioural goals, follow the prescribed consequences consistently whenever the rules are broken, repeat their demands until the students realize that no alternative is possible, and dispense positive effects when students comply. The I-message principle. This principle takes two forms. In the assertive discipline form, teachers say ‘I want you to ...’ or ‘I need you to ...’ This has the effect of telling students what the teacher wants them to do, and avoids negative ‘you’ messages. In the humanistic discipline form, teachers use I-messages to communicate how they feel about student actions in the hope that students will change their behaviour voluntarily once they realize the effect their conduct is having on the teacher. The principle of positive reinforcement. This has the effect of praising or otherwise supporting students whenever they are behaving appropriately. The basic principle is ‘catch them when they’re good.’ Be cautious, though – what you think is praise may not be perceived as praise by the student. Being ‘good’ in class does not always endear one to one’s peers.

Signs in Class Management and Discipline 103 Selected Reading Emmer, E.T., Evertson, C.M., & Worsham, M.E. (2006). Classroom management for middle and high school teachers (7th ed.). Boston: Pearson/Allyn & Bacon. A practical and comprehensive treatment of class management for teachers wishing to better organize and manage their classrooms. Based on an extensive and prolonged research program. Jones, V.F., & Jones, L.S. (1995). Comprehensive classroom management: Creating positive learning environments for all students (4th ed.). Boston: Allyn & Bacon. Vernon Jones is well known for his specific strategies for implementing behaviour management programs in classrooms. This book provides many practical examples to help the struggling teacher create and apply interventions with many different kinds of difficult students. Kohn, A. (1996). Beyond discipline: From compliance to community. Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. A must-read for new teachers. Kohn offers a philosophy of classroom functioning that emphasizes student autonomy, relatedness, and competency rather than the usual methods employing control and punishment. Manning, M.L., & Bucher, K.T. (2003). Classroom management: Models, applications, and cases. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Merrill Prentice Hall. A thorough yet concise treatment of the many approaches to classroom management and discipline. The various theories and their associated practices are described clearly and are supplemented by helpful cases. Neill, S., & Caswell, C. (1993). Body language for competent teachers. London: Routledge. The book, of all those listed here, which best continues the focus on the nonverbal signs described in chapter 2. The non-verbal signs to be employed by teachers, and the student nonverbal signs to be read by teachers, are presented along with numerous illustrations. Rinne, C.H. (1997). Excellent classroom management. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. A comprehensive treatment of the many management and disciplinary skills used by effective teachers. Pertinent topics include managing non-verbal signs, managing time, and controlling games that students play.

4 Signs in Adolescent Development

Adolescents View Themselves I like the way I look. I enjoy being good at schoolwork. I like all of my friends and going to school. I like being able to play the piano and having my licence. I like my overall personality basically because I’m not too shy but I’m also not overly aggressive and pushy like some people. (Grade 12 girl in Advanced Program) I am the shy, quiet type. But I know what I want and I will try anything to make it work. I don’t think I am unintelligent. I work very well with my hands. I would do about any job I could find. I am a good worker. (Grade 10 Girl in Basic Program) From King (1986, 21, 41)


The opening chapter introduced semiotics as the science of signs, applied semiotics as a subdiscipline, and psychosemiotics as a subcategory of the latter. In chapters 2 and 3 we saw how the study of signs can be applied in understanding the central topics of classroom communication and management. In this chapter our attention shifts to characteristics of the learners themselves, with attention paid to various signs of adolescent development. These signs focus on who and what adolescents are; this will pave the way for the subsequent chapters on learning, instruction, exceptionality, and social issues. Accordingly, this chapter will outline some important developmental features and conceptions of adolescence and indicate some issues that arise from these conceptions. Before this, however, two fundamental ideas will be addressed that are

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central to our current understanding of adolescent development and learning. The first idea, concerning nomothetic and idiographic results, involves the two main types of knowledge claims that confront teachers. The basic problem concerns how general findings about human behaviour can (or cannot) be reconciled with data from individual cases. Teachers are faced constantly with claims that ‘sixteen-year-olds do this’ or ‘tenth graders do that,’ but they also know that there are many exceptions to these general statements. The second basic idea, concerning the effects of nature and nurture on behaviour, addresses the origins of human behaviour. Although many people still speak in terms of one factor or the other as being critical, the point is emphasized here that nature and nurture are almost always inseparable. The remainder of the chapter deals with issues affecting the various forms of development in adolescents: physical, psychological, moral, social, and emotional. In particular, the theories of Jean Piaget and Lev Vygotsky are compared. Research over the past three decades has shown that general-purpose theories developed within the different developmental domains have not had the impact on education that was expected originally. However, the chapter suggests that there are some general principles of human development that teachers should know in order to better ‘read’ and understand their students better and, in so doing, promote students’ maximal growth. Nomothetic and Idiographic Knowledge In this section we shall consider a knowledge-related issue that often faces teachers: What is a general statement or a single case the sign of? The matter involves the challenge of trying to apply general theoretical statements and large-group results (that is, findings based on average values drawn from large numbers of subjects) to individual cases, or the converse problem of trying to understand the individual case within the context of group norms. This problem becomes more apparent when you think of specific individuals whom you know while discussing some general characteristics of adolescents. Let us consider a specific example in some detail: Fact 1: Nineteen-year-old males are taller than nineteen-year-old females. Fact 2: Mary is taller than John. Problem: Can both Mary and John be nineteen years old?

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The first statement is a nomothetic one, that is, one intended to hold in the general case. Presumably the statement is an accurate generality that has been supported by the results of many studies or, at least, by one large-scale investigation. To be credible, these studies should have followed the usual rules of scientific research. For example, while using the same rules for everyone (for example, all subjects were measured at the same time of day while standing barefoot), the experimenters should have measured as accurately as possible the heights of hundreds or thousands of nineteen-year-old adolescents divided evenly by sex. These results should show that, on average, males of this age are taller than females of the same age. The critical data should be provided as an average (most likely a mean, but in some cases a median or mode) along with some measure of deviation from this average height (usually in the form of a standard deviation when the mean is provided). The second statement above is an idiographic one – that is, an individual case in which the height of your good friend Mary has been found by careful measurement to be 175 cm (or about five feet nine inches) while the height of your good friend John has been measured to be 170 cm (about five feet seven inches). Here the relevant data would consist of only two values, one for Mary and one for John. A compulsive or very precise experimenter might also add some value to represent the relevant error of measurement. An appropriate derivative value that would make this ‘study’ accurate, relevant, and interesting to the parties involved would consist of the difference in heights between Mary and John that showed Mary to be the taller of the two individuals. The question in statement 3 that follows the above two accurate statements raises a dilemma. What do you think? Is it possible for both Mary and John to be nineteen? Right now you are probably saying something like ‘Of course they can both be nineteen – let’s get on with it!’ But then, if both individuals are nineteen years old, is the first statement as accurate as it appears to be? And what are the limitations of the second statement? Now let us take two more of your nineteen-year-old friends, Ashley (who happens to be female) and Lyn (who happens to be male). Which one is taller? How do you know? How should we know? How can we find out? As you can see, a problem arises as soon as you try to apply a general result or law to the individual case. The nomothetic claim that nineteenyear-old males are taller than nineteen-year-old females should be interpreted to mean that some majority of nineteen-year-old males are taller than some majority of nineteen-year-old females. But clearly, there are

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many exceptions to this general finding. In addition, the larger the number of nineteen-year-olds measured, the smaller will be the difference required between males and females to establish the nomothetic result that males are taller than females (this effect is a consequence of the statistical assumptions employed). And when you then consider the additional case of Ashley and Lyn, the general statement will continue to provide no more than a best guess as to who might be the taller person. Despite the nomothetic finding, and as was the case for Mary and John, Ashley could be taller than Lyn (maybe most of your female friends are basketball players!). Perhaps this example involving height comparisons appears somewhat simple-minded. However, there are some important principles at stake, especially for teachers who are working with a multiplicity of adolescents representing both sexes, a variety of gender roles, and many cultures, races, and religions. These teachers are bombarded with many general findings that are less obvious and more culturally meaningful than those involving height, such as ‘females are better on tests of language competency than males,’ ‘men but not women are encouraged to be aggressive in social ventures,’ and ‘Asians are superior to Europeans and Africans on some cognitive measures.’ Hence, these teachers will have to exercise extreme caution in accepting or applying any nomothetic claim. To summarize, and as you can see from the above example, the general finding may be of little help in diagnosing or comprehending the individual case appearing before you. On this topic, Grossmann (1986, 47), for one, stated that ‘the unique cannot be derived from the general, nor the general from the unique.’ Nevertheless, nomothetic and idiographic findings are two sides of the same knowledge acquisition coin and should be seen as complementary rather than contradictory forms of knowledge. Western social scientists have tended to value the general case, but much of your work in education will focus on individual potentials, individual achievements, and individual difficulties, none of which are necessarily well served by nomothetic findings. In addition, any general claim may have been established with particular settings, arrangements, materials, or people that are very different from the ones facing you. Knowledge of nomothetic results can be useful, but so is knowledge of the conditions under which those results were obtained and of the data that are not reported (these latter two aspects can be very difficult to obtain). The message here is to not be too quick to take a nomothetic result as the gospel truth – the next study may contradict it! Perhaps

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Project Discuss at least one example from your own experience (or based on material that you’ve read or heard about) concerning the misuse of data involving general findings and individual cases. If you need help in getting started, read The Mismeasure of Man (preferably the 1996 revised edition) by the late Stephen J. Gould. In fact, this book is a useful reference for every intending teacher.

these points will become more salient when we turn to the general principles involving various aspects of adolescent development. Effects of Nature and Nurture on Behaviour Over the past few generations, people in education and psychology have wrestled with this central question: Which is the more important factor in determining human behaviour: nature or nurture, heredity or environment? Over the past 150 years (when most of the actual research and theoretical advances have been applied to this issue), both academic and non-academic worlds have been represented by individuals who favoured one extreme position or the other. Our own interest in the question concerns where we stand today on the issue, and what the relevant implications are for secondary school teachers. How should we interpret signs of nature or of nurture on adolescent behaviour? Nature (Heredity) Those who believe that human behaviour is essentially a result of genetic inheritance are represented by several apparently divergent camps. Firm supporters of the heredity position include many individuals associated with measurement (from Francis Galton in the 1800s to today) and intelligence quotient assessment (such as Arthur Jensen [1973]). But this position has also been supported by theorists who have accepted the humanist label over the past fifty years, such as Abraham Maslow (1954) and Carl Rogers (1961). These two men were well known for making or supporting such statements as ‘you’ll be what you’ve got to be.’

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There is absolutely no doubt that heredity exerts a powerful influence on who we are and what we become. You may have Uncle Phil’s nose and Grandma Edith’s eyes. And you may also have their heredity predispositions to heart attack, arthritis, high blood pressure, cancers, and height. Other heredity-influenced factors may include personality type and susceptibility to mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. Thus our heredity is critical to us! Nurture (Environment) Supporters of the supreme influence of environment on our behaviour include many modern learning theorists, sociologists, behaviour modifiers, and teachers (teachers tend to lean, naturally enough, towards the position that their actions must make some difference to young learners, otherwise why bother!). The classic experiments conducted in the 1960s by Bennett, Diamond, Krech, and Rosenzweig (1964) on rats raised in enriched and impoverished environments demonstrated most convincingly that environmental effects can be reflected in both physical and chemical changes in the brain. As well, the developmental theories of Piaget, Kohlberg, and Freud assume that relevant experiences are essential to development. The foundations of American television successes such as Sesame Street are rooted in the same belief. There is absolutely no doubt that environment has a powerful influence on who we are and what we become. You may have Uncle Phil’s regional accent and Grandma Edith’s love of softball. And you may also have their environmentally induced tendencies to play the piano, to shun books, to do community work, and to drive too fast. Thus our environment is critical to us! Nature and Nurture But have we answered the question which is more important to us, nature or nurture? Heredity or environment? More than fifty years ago, Donald Hebb (1953) responded by saying that this is exactly like asking how much of the area of a field is due to its length and how much to its width. In other words, the proper proportions of influence are 100 per cent heredity and 100 per cent environment. So we believe that the question has been answered by saying that both variables are absolutely essential. No gene functions without a surrounding environment of some kind, and no environment acts on a gene-less being.

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A subsequent question in the heredity-environment wrangle can be phrased this way: How much of our behaviour is due to heredity, and how much to environment? In more than just flippant response, and to carry Hebb’s sentiments even further, we can argue that 100 per cent of our behaviour is due to heredity and 100 per cent is due to environment. A more recent question involving the two variables asks, more positively: how do these factors interact to produce behaviour? Since research is slowly uncovering a variety of different links and relationships involving heredity and environment, the question today is far from being fully answered. The matter is of particular interest to educational researchers and psychologists, who are currently investing a great deal of energy and resources into examining how various facets of sex (nature) and gender (nurture) are related. Often, the end goal of this work is to explain why either individuals or social structures function as they do. Time A third variable has tended to become lost in the heat of the battle between heredity and environment: the element of time. Since at least the 1930s, research has shown consistently the critical influence of time on both heredity and environment (e.g., Edelman, 1992; Rudel, 1978). For example, by age ten, people have more brain synapses than at any other time in life (Bruer, 1997). Furthermore, within the brain, synapses that are used regularly continue to be fully functional, whereas those that are not used eventually disappear (Bruer, 1999). Hence, one general guideline adopted by researchers and educators has been ‘the earlier, the better’ for the purposes of maximizing the development of one’s attributes and potential and for the most thorough absorption into the surrounding culture. For this reason a great deal of research has concentrated on the first three years of human life (e.g., White, 1975). This information raises a key question for high school teachers: By mid-adolescence, is it too late for teaching and other environmental influences to make a difference? Although normal brain development is dependent on both proper nutrition and environments with at least normal levels of stimulation, no data yet show that brain ability is enhanced forever by intensive rich experiences during the early years (Thompson & Nelson, 2001). In fact, research shows that experiences throughout life continue to prompt the development of new snyapses (e.g., Bruer, 1999; Byrnes & Fox, 1998). Accordingly, by the time adolescence arrives, some valuable years of human development have already gone forever, but it is never too late to bring about new learning. Secondary school teachers

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should make the most of the array of abilities represented in their classrooms and work to stimulate new learning and development to the maximum degree possible. Genes and Memes Before leaving the subject of the complex relationships between nature and nurture, let us touch briefly on several important theories or conjectures that have been proposed to account for long-term (i.e., multigenerational) changes in human structure and function. These theories seem to fall into two main camps: those focusing on genetic evolution (the nature side), and those emphasizing exogenetic or cultural evolution (the nurture side). The former position emphasizes the role of genes in evolution; the latter increasingly addresses the idea of memes, defined as cultural units (such as ideas or musical melodies), which also undergo selection processes (Blackmore, 1999; Dawkins, 1976, 1982; Gatherer, 1998; H. A. Smith, 2000). To anticipate the discussion, it may well be that the most viable position involves, as usual, complicated interactions between the two positions. To begin with the nature emphasis, most of us are familiar with the central role played by genes in evolution and with the major tenets outlined by Charles Darwin (1809–82), who presented the strategy and tactics of biological evolution that we often refer to as ‘survival of the fittest.’ In Darwin’s theory, the process known as natural selection is the differential production or survival of offspring resulting from variation among genetically different members of the population. Natural selection is a two-step process: the first step is the production of variability, and the second is the winnowing out of this variability. Hence, natural selection is more of an elimination than a selection process, as less fit individuals are eliminated rather than more successful individuals selected (Charlesworth, 1999). Natural selection shapes adaptations, which are anatomical structures, physiological processes, and behaviour patterns that contribute to future individuals’ ability to survive in competition with other members of their species (Crawford, 1998). Natural selection is ‘blind’ in the sense that organic evolution bears no relation to the current needs and functioning of the individuals in which the process is occurring (Ingold, 1999). In any event, the genes themselves may be seen as signs (e.g., Anderson et al., 1984). Over the past generation, Nobel Prize winner Gerald Edelman (1987, 1992) has also applied the Darwinian perspective to research on brain growth and development over the individual’s lifespan (as opposed to

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many generations of ancestors). According to Edelman’s ‘neural Darwinism,’ we are fully equipped at birth to survive in most of our normal physical environments. Subsequently, through interaction with our immediate environments, we develop (or don’t) our assorted capacities developed according to the physical and cultural demands placed on them. With language, for example, we are born with the ability to speak any of three thousand human languages but initially we are proficient in none of them. Through a process of ‘neural pruning’ we become increasingly competent in one or a small number of languages; at the same time we begin to lose to capacity to master the idiosyncrasies of other languages. For example, adult Japanese speakers have difficulty learning the sounds of two English letters – l and r – that are not found in their language. To turn to the nurture emphasis, the idea of cultural evolution and its parallel to the gene, the meme, is outlined next. This perspective grew out of the hypothesis popularized many years ago by Jean Baptiste Lamarck (1744–1829) concerning the genetic inheritance of acquired characteristics. However, because research has not shown that the environment directly influences hereditary processes, Lamarck’s view has not been supported at the organic level. That is, even though you may have won the Mr or Ms Universe title from years of bodybuilding and you can bench press 300 kilograms, you cannot pass on your splendid physique to your offspring. In fact, to your chagrin, your children may be spindly weaklings. However, if Lamarckism is applied to cultural phenomena only, after we have set aside the direct genetic link, then Lamarckism can be supported as an important force in human evolution. For example, we can see the inheritance of acquired characteristics in a cultural sense when a meme, such as the ability to speak Finnish or any other language, is passed on from parents to their children. In contrast to ‘blind’ natural selection, cultural evolution is characterized by individuals exercising their will (Ingold, 1999). Memes are acquired not through invisible processes of the population but rather through often deliberate decisions of the individual. The meme is usually seen as a unit of cultural transmission with the ability to self-replicate in human minds. Thus, the meme is subject to processes of neo-Darwinian selection so long as the assorted memetic replications involve variations. In this way, memetics (the study of how culture evolves through the creation, selection, and replication of memes) offers a second form of evolution, one that is independent of but intertwined with biological evolution. However, over the past quarter-

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century, research on memes and on memetics in general has been slow to materialize, due in large measure to uncertainties in defining a meme (e.g., Deacon, 1999). There are three major difficulties in this regard: memes seem to have too little copying fidelity to be evolvable; no one is confident about what a meme is physically; and people are unsure about the unit size of a meme (Blackmore, 1999). A meme can be understood as a particular pattern of information that resides as either an inside- or outside-the-head representation. My own preference is to support those who conceptualize the meme as a collective idea, representation, or activity that is established by culture for use by individuals. In this way, a meme can be seen as an entity that resides in the assorted artefacts – including symbolic systems – of the culture at hand. Examples are Sweden’s national anthem, its national flag, and a statue of its first prime minister. A meme’s action of ‘leaping from brain to brain’ (Dawkins, 1976) can occur indirectly through the signs of culture as well as directly from person to person. In this process, signs and the various representational modes (e.g., language, music, drama) that I’ve called signways (H.A. Smith, 2001) are central both to hold a given meme for the collective and to connect that meme with the individual mind. What role do the sign and the signways (described more fully in chapter 5) play in our efforts to understand the meme? Through their almost infinite (within the bounds of biology) ability to manipulate signs and thereby create a very large number of meanings, humans as a collective introduce the variability that is necessary in order for cultural evolution to occur. In addition, humans as collectives make choices about which cultural creations will undergo further development. In this view, culture and its artefacts are collective constructions that can also be represented and constructed in the individual mind through signs in given contexts. Hence, memes are signs and are dependent on semiosis for their reproduction and evolution over time within culture. The upshot here is that, as a secondary school teacher, you can be described as trafficking in memes to the next generation of adults. To summarize, our individual brains and their abilities both shape and are shaped by complex interactions involving heredity (with its genes), environment (with its physical features and cultural memes), and time. It is also apparent that our habits and cultures change much more quickly than our physical structures. Because all activity changes the environment, it may be that our thoughts, learnings, and actions influence evolution of the human brain over time – a very long time (note the shades of Lamarck). For example, supporters of this view might argue that

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extensive computer use by many generations of users has the potential to alter the structure and function of our brains. However, we don’t need to worry that our brains will change substantially as a result of using computers to complete academic assignments this term – although hopefully our minds will change somewhat. As far as educational applications are concerned, the theoretical position supported by Edelman (1987, 1992) seems to call for complex problem-solving classrooms, ones that resemble out-of-school environments of the sort in which many human capabilities are challenged (see Sylwester, 1993, for a concise summary of this view). These latter points will be addressed in chapters 5 and 6. More generally, practising and knowledgeable professionals should be aware of the limitations of ongoing claims about the separate influences of nature or nurture on one human ability or another. Because nature and nurture are complexly interrelated, any generalizations concerning sex/gender, race, or any other human attribute must be interpreted with great caution. Some of the pertinent issues faced by teachers in this regard will become clearer when we consider various aspects of human development in the following sections. Physical Development Most of us are familiar in general terms with the major physical and hormonal changes that occur in young males and females as they reach puberty and adolescence. Most of us have also observed the powerful effects of these changes on adolescents’ psychological, moral, social, and emotional behaviours. In the remaining sections of this chapter, the objective is not to outline these various developmental changes in detail but rather to consider the effects of these changes on classroom practice. There are several reasons for taking this approach: most of you have already studied the relevant information at earlier points in your academic careers; an abundance of information on adolescent development exists in more specialized and easily accessible sources; and a discussion of the attending developmental issues, rather than a rehashing of basic information, may be more useful to you as future teachers. So far, the terms adolescent and adolescence have been used many times in this book without being defined. Perhaps this is the most appropriate place to mention some of the general senses of these two words. According to Golinko (1984), the word ‘adolescence’ comes from the Latin verb adolescere, which means to grow or to grow to maturity. Adolescence is commonly seen to begin with the onset of puberty, although there is

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no unanimity on this point. Furthermore, being an adolescent does not correspond automatically with being a teenager. To complicate the matter even more, adolescence can be viewed as a socially constructed Western phenomenon used to explain assorted cultural needs (Bakan, 1971). Some societies have not recognized adolescence as a necessary bridge between childhood and adulthood (Benedict, 1954). Some psychological theories, such as those of G. Stanley Hall and Sigmund Freud, have viewed adolescence as a period of turbulence; other perspectives such as Margaret Mead’s anthropological theory and Jean Piaget’s developmental theory have seen adolescence as just another step towards full membership in society (e.g., Garbarino, 1985). Given these varying perspectives, Santrock’s (2001) definition of adolescence will be adopted here: it is ‘the developmental period of transition between childhood and adulthood; it involves biological, cognitive, and socioemotional changes’ (2001, 17). Today, adolescence in most Western societies is considered to begin between ten and thirteen and end between eighteen and twenty-two. Since the vast majority of your students will fall within this age range, we can call all of them adolescents for purposes of convenience. Puberty and Physical Characteristics The onset of puberty, with its accompanying changes in primary and secondary sexual characteristics, carries with it substantial effects of both sex (i.e., nature) and gender (i.e., nurture). One relevant variable concerns the timing of puberty, which is clearly different between males and females but which is also quite variable among those of the same sex. Outside school, early-maturing adolescent males are at higher risk for delinquency and antisocial behaviours such as drug and alcohol use, but are often advantaged at school. Compared with slow maturing males, these individuals have a more positive self-image, are more popular in school, and are more dominant in school activities (Simmons & Blyth, 1987; Steinberg, 2001). On the other hand, early-maturing females may be more vulnerable than late maturing females to assorted problems. For example, the former are more likely to smoke, drink, be depressed, have eating disorders, seek earlier independence from parents, have older friends, and have earlier sexual experiences (e.g., Brooks-Gunn & Paikoff, 1997; Sarigiani & Peterson, 2000). They are, however, more popular in school than late-maturing females. For both sexes, research has shown that ‘raging hormones’ does not properly characterize puberty, as

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Related Issue Over the past twenty years in North America large numbers of young women, in particular, have suffered from bulimia or anorexia, which can be fatal. What is the relationship, if any, between serious eating disorders and social perceptions concerning ideal body form? Why do these perceptions tend to affect males and females differently? Which body shapes and characteristics are valued currently by our broader society? As an aid to answering the latter question, examine the physical characteristics – height, weight, skin and hair colour, facial features, and so on – of people chosen to appear on the covers of fashion magazines, in television and magazine advertisements, and as television newscasters. Also, check both Web-based and library sources for further information. As a teacher, what behaviours should you look for in adolescents who are especially unhappy with their physical features? Should you intervene in some way? If so, how?

variations in hormone levels are much less important on affect than social influences (Steinberg, 2001). A second variable of vital concern to adolescents around the time of puberty concerns their bodily characteristics (essentially a sexual matter) and – more critical to self-concept and self-esteem – perceptions of their bodies relative to surrounding social standards and values (essentially a gender matter). Adolescent males and females tend to have such strong stereotyped ideals about body shapes and functions that their own substantial deviations from these ideals can trigger profound distress and apparently irrational behaviour. Teachers should be aware of how important these self-perceptions are to the adolescents in their classes. Furthermore, teachers should be prepared to listen closely to pertinent comments and even to suggest professional help should the occasion warrant. Sex Differences in the Brain It has been known for some time (cf., Restak, 1984) that female and male infants differ from each other in a number of observable ways. For exam-

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ple, female infants are more sensitive to sounds than male infants and manifest a superior hearing performance that endures throughout life. Young females speak sooner than males, have larger vocabularies, and exceed males in language abilities throughout life. In addition, they sing in tune at an earlier age than males and are more attentive to social contexts. On the other hand, males show an early visual superiority. They also show better total body coordination, although females are better at small muscle movements. On average, then (remember our nomothetic-idiographic discussion above!), there are some obvious physical differences between males and females that are linked primarily to sexual characteristics. Over the past number of years, intensive research programs have examined the extent to which differences in both structure and function exist between male and female brains (e.g., Kimura, 1992). In an earlier article, Doreen Kimura (1987) reported that different patterns existed between males and females in the incidence of aphasias (speech disorders) following brain damage such as strokes. In males, the aphasias occurred more frequently when damage was in the posterior region of the left hemisphere; in females, aphasias were seen more often when damage occurred in the left hemisphere’s anterior section. Otherwise, sex differences have been reflected in varying patterns of ability, but with no differences in general levels of intelligence. Some of the most general findings to date revolve around the effects of heightened levels of androgen (essentially testosterone) in males and the more substantial corpus callosum in females. Heightened levels of testosterone have been associated with such behaviours as increased aggressiveness and heightened spatial capability. Interestingly enough, these same behaviours are also manifested by females who for whatever reason possess levels of testosterone that are higher than average for their sex. The current data suggest that the optimum level of androgen for maximum spatial ability falls in the low male range (Kimura, 1992). As males grow older, their production of testosterone falls along with the intensity of the associated behaviours seen earlier in life. And as females enter middle age and produce reduced amounts of estrogen, their relative androgen levels rise. The effects of this change in females can include increased independence seeking and heightened assertiveness in the events of everyday life. The second main general finding involves the corpus callosum, which is the large sheet or band of intracranial neural fibres that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain. The more substantial corpus callosum in females seems to be related to heightened interconnectivity

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of various centres within the two halves of the brain. The main documented effects are a more total involvement with and comprehension of external events, and a heightened role of language in the conduct of normal life. Thus the ‘intuition’ ascribed to females may be one result of the enhanced integration of all forms of environmental information that cannot be automatically reduced to conscious verbalisms. Also, females are more astute at interpreting human emotions and are better communicators than males. In short, when it comes to human interaction, females tend to read signs better than males. All of this suggests that in some key areas of modern life, females hold the advantage over males and should be playing more prominent roles than they do in, for example, politics. Of course, at this point we encounter the web of gender differences that have been constructed and maintained by society. In males, the two hemispheres display a bit more independence from each other. For some specific tasks, this may enhance the capability of a single brain region as a consequence of its reduced interaction with other parts. With age, the relative isolation of the two hemispheres in males appears to widen compared with females because of the greater loss of cells in the corpus callosum. According to Kimura (1992), males outperform females on problemsolving tasks such as the following: spatial tasks that involve mentally rotating an object or manipulating it in some way; target-directed motor skills, such as guiding a projectile; disembedding tests, which involve finding a simple shape hidden in a more complex figure; and tests of mathematical reasoning, such as ‘If only 40 per cent of the seedlings survive, how many must be planted to yield 500 trees?’ On the other hand, females outperform males on the following problem-solving tasks: tests of perceptual speed, such as identifying matching items; remembering whether objects in an array have been removed; tests of verbal fluency; precision manual tasks, such as placing pegs in a pegboard; and tests involving mathematical calculations, such as 14 4 – 27 + 19. This section has focused on sex differences in the human brain, and more results of such research are expected in future years. But how important are these differences in the context of learning and completing tasks at school? The most reasonable answer is ‘not very.’ Recall that these differences are nomothetic findings that have been drawn from large groups of subjects, with great overlap in results between males and females. So there is no way that a teacher can know in advance from a general result whether the individual male or female sitting in front of her is above or below average for the group. Also, experimental tasks are

3

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carefully crafted and refined to enhance any intergroup differences that may exist, in sharp contrast to the coarse nature of most school tasks. So one should not expect to see sex differences based on the tasks assigned at school. Most of the distinctions between boys and girls reported in educational circles, such as relating to performance in mathematics, are in fact gender differences that reflect cultural values rather than sexually determined limitations. Therefore, the best the teacher can do is to base instructional, motivational, and evaluative decisions on the capabilities of the individual student rather than on the student’s sex. Can People or Activities Be ‘Left-Brained’? One popular topic over the past generation involves cognitive differences between the left and right hemispheres of the brain. This interest was sparked by findings that for mental operations, the left hemisphere is associated with linear and sequential tasks whereas the right is associated with holistic and spatial tasks such as facial recognition and attaching appropriate emotional flavourings to the situations at hand. This hemispheric specialization, with the accompanying lateralized behaviours, has led to the labelling of both people and activities as ‘leftbrained’ or ‘right-brained.’ However, even though various human activities may be centred in or coordinated by specific brain regions located in one hemisphere or the other, almost everything we do as normal and intact human beings involves both hemispheres in important ways. Let us consider language as an obvious example. In the vast majority of cases, including left-handed people, research has shown that verbal processes depend in a big way on centres located in the left hemisphere. However, several important verbal processes also involve the right hemisphere. These latter operations involve semantic, prosodic, and pragmatic elements associated primarily with speech comprehension rather than speech production (e.g., Joanette, Goulet & Hannequin, 1990). To summarize the current status of research on hemispheric specialization in language, it seems that if one views language simply as an arbitrary system of formal rules then the left hemisphere is of paramount importance. But if one sees language as an important tool of the signs of human communication involving intentions and emotions, then the right hemisphere is centrally involved in all linguistic activity. The essential point to be made here is that references to ‘rightbrained’ or ‘left-brained’ people or activities should be confined to met-

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aphorical references only, because there is no research to support the implied physical dissociation in normal and intact human beings (e.g., Hiscock & Kinsbourne, 1987). Everything we do in our daily lives involves both hemispheres, even if we do have a bias towards one or the other for certain activities. In passing, it is very likely that the relevant metaphor (but not the reality) arose from abstract, linear, and sequential school tasks that students saw as purely arbitrary with no apparent links to their current needs and that, consequently, they were not motivated to learn. Because these kinds of tasks held little positive emotional engagement for most students, the tasks were seen as ‘left-brained” (the right hemisphere tends to be more emotional than the left). Brain Growth and Development Some time ago, Herman Epstein (e.g., 1978) summarized research which showed that human brains undergo five growth cycles. Furthermore, these cycles were characterized by bursts of rapid development followed by periods of relative dormancy. On average, the cycles lasted for about four years each. The periods of rapid brain growth were found to occur during the following age intervals: three to ten months, two to four years, six to eight years, ten to about thirteen years, and fourteen to about seventeen years. With the exception of the last period, these age boundaries correspond roughly with the stages of psychological development proposed by Jean Piaget (Flavell, 1963). As for the final period of growth, Patricia Arlin (1975) reported some evidence for an enhanced psychological capability during the middle teen years. She pronounced this final stage to be one of problem finding rather than problem solving. The growth pattern reported by Epstein (1978) has been found to hold for about 85 per cent of all young people from a number of different countries and cultures. This result has important educational implications. For example, it has been proposed that during periods of rapid brain growth, teachers should be presenting new and substantial intellectual challenges to students so as to maximize the learning gains possible. Then, during the ensuing plateau phase, teachers would allow students to consolidate their gains by exposing them to direct experiences and by eliminating pressure for substantial inferences about these experiences. In addition, because the periods of rapid brain growth occur the year around, including summer vacation, teachers may find large differences in students’ mental capabilities from the end of one

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school year to the beginning of the next. This means that a student’s poorer-quality academic record in one school year may not be replicated in the following year, a period of enhanced neuronal development has intervened. The main difficulty with this type of formulation – well intended though it may be – is that we are once again faced with the nomotheticidiographic dilemma: 15 per cent of the population develops at a slower or faster rate than the norm, and there is no direct way to determine an individual’s present rate of brain growth. Therefore, although we may expect a period of rapid brain growth to occur in high school students in grades ninr and ten, there are still too many deviations from this norm for teachers to base a systematic curriculum on this expectation alone. The best thing that parents and teachers can do, it seems, is provide an ongoing everyday environment that offers both physical and mental stimulation. Intensive, enriched environments are not necessary for development to occur (e.g., Bruer, 1999). Furthermore, there is no evidence that sensitive periods exist for brain areas associated with learning and performance in the school’s subject areas, such as reading, mathematics, and music (Bruer, 1999; Greenough, Black & Wallace, 1987). Because the brain continues to grow and adapt even in adulthood (e.g., Nelson, 1999), teachers should assume that the adolescent brain is highly capable of ongoing learning and that quality instruction will contribute to lasting cognitive growth. The Left-Handed Adolescent Throughout recorded history an almost constant level of the population, about 12 per cent, has been left-handed. Over this time, the right-handed majority of right-handers has shown a systemic bias against left-handed people – a bias that has usually inconvenienced them and sometimes inadvertently threatened their safety. This, even though left-handers have had a profound impact on our society and have provided some of its greatest artists, engineers, and athletes (Corballis, 1980). However, given the deeply rooted cultural conventions regarding left and right, perhaps we should not be surprised at the uneven treatment of handedness. To illustrate, one important category of signs – our figures of speech – are filled with references to the good, strong, and desirable right versus the evil, weak, and undesirable left. Examples in English that are derived from French include adroit and gauche, while Latin has given us dextrous and sinister. We ward off evil spirits by throwing salt over the left

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Related Issue During the adolescent years, the human body continues the substantial physical changes that began with conception. However, in order to grow on schedule and to maintain maximal health and vigour, the body requires a constant intake of fuel in the forms of high-quality food and fluid. Unfortunately, many adolescents display notoriously bad eating and living habits during these important years or, if they are living below the poverty line, are not consuming as many calories as they should. Unfortunately, too, the consequences have negative effects on both school behaviour and performance on academic tasks. For example, a student’s so-called hyperactive behaviour may disappear with a good breakfast. The situation is complicated by other factors such school vending machines that promote poor eating habits but also provide funds for the school. In addition, more and more reports are linking food allergies to environmental triggers such as sugar, caffeine, wheat, and chemical additives. This situation prompts some questions. Given the link between diet and both physical and intellectual performance, what behaviours would you look for in your classes that (a) are related to reduced classroom achievement, and (b) can be addressed by a proper diet? As a teacher, what can you do to address some of the school-based problems surrounding diet?

shoulder; we have expressions such as ‘She’s out in left field’ and ‘He got up on the wrong side of bed this morning.’ The latter figure of speech is based on the superstition that it is unlucky to get out of bed on the left side, which is associated with the west where the sun sets and which is a symbol of death. In the Bible, at the Last Judgment, the damned go to the left in the direction of Hell while the elect go to the right in the direction of Heaven. In medieval Christian thought, the right side was male, diurnal, and divine whereas the left side was female, nocturnal, and satanic (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1994). For the Bambara people of Africa, the right hand is the symbol of order, work, righteousness, and faithfulness, while the left hand symbolizes doubt and disorder. In Western politics, the right implies authority, order, stability, tradition, hierarchical structures, and a feeling of com-

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placency. The political left is linked to dissatisfaction with the social order, dynamism, the seeking of one’s rights, risk taking, and the quest for liberation, innovation, and universal justice. Only in the Far East, it seems, does the left garner some favour; in Yunnan heroes and saints are born from the mother’s left side. In China, there is no conflict between right and left, between yin and yang. Yin is the right and belongs to the earth, women, autumn, harvesting, and food. Yang is the left and belongs to Heaven and men. The left is the place of honour in good times and the right in bad (Chevalier & Gheerbrant, 1994). Thus, differing perceptions of left and right abound, with significant implications for cultural rituals and traditions. These same perceptions carry over into the design and manufacturing of cultural tools, which sometimes result in serious threats to the physical health of left-handers. Outdoor tools such as automobile controls, electric saws, and electric drills usually assume right-handedness, with a heightened risk of injury awaiting those with uncertain right hands. Other annoyances abound, such as scissors, measuring cups, telephone arrangements, and clothes design (e.g., men’s underwear). About two generations ago, and as discussed in chapter 2, school classrooms were built in a rectangular form to permit natural light to fall on desks from the left side. This compelled left-handers to write in their shadows while leaky pens stained their left sleeves (yes, our writing direction and manner of formulating our letters and numbers also favour right-handers) and while teachers tried to force them to use their right hands. Things have improved since then. Artificial lighting can be directed at any area of the classroom, computer keyboards are independent of handedness (despite unending efforts to place the mouse on the right side of the computer), and teachers have come realize that trying to force hand change in their students is a bad idea. There are, however, several guidelines that secondary school teachers should be aware of when working with left-handed students: • Teachers should acknowledge that left-handed students may have a valuable alternative perspective on assigned tasks, and different ways to achieve them; in this way, class members can be exposed to other ways of exploring and solving problems. • Teachers in workshops, gymnasiums, and laboratories should ensure that all equipment can be used safely by left-handed students in the class. • Teachers should on occasion use left-handed students to demonstrate

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skills that are usually assumed to be right-handed in nature, such as basketball dribbling. Cognitive Development As noted in the previous section, adolescence is a period of substantial physical growth and development that affects almost all aspects of one’s bodily chemistry and structure. In this section we shift our attention to the cognitive (or mental) domain, which represents aspects of human development that are much less amenable to the probes of biological, chemical, and physical research. We begin by touching briefly on two perspectives on cognition that are not so much full theories of development (often associated with ‘nature’) as they are ways of viewing the world (akin to learning and thereby associated more closely with ‘nurture’; see chapter 5 for a fuller discussion). The two perspectives in question are the semiotic (already introduced in this book) and the information processing (the predominant view over the past forty years). Then we turn our attention to two important developmental theories of the past seventyfive years, one proposed by Jean Piaget and the other by Lev Vygotsky. These two theorists, along with Sigmund Freud, tried to offer integrated theories that explained developmental processes as semiotic (or cognitive, in a narrower sense) and biological. Applying Darwinian and, for Piaget, Lamarckian concepts, these theorists used observations of child development to create integrated theories in which human nature, culture, and semiotic (or cognitive) processes were evolutionary and developmental phenomena (Sinha, 1999). Semiotic and Information-Processing Approaches As stated in chapter 1, the semiotic view advanced in this text centres on the triadic sign proposed by Charles Peirce, America’s first experimental psychologist (Brent, 1998). As was shown in figure 1.1, the three constituents of the sign are the object, the representamen, and the interpretant, which together undergo continuous change and development. The representamen is determined by the object and in turn determines the interpretant (Deely, 1990; Whitson, 1997). The interpretant now represents the object and, as a more developed sign, also serves as the representamen on the next appropriate occasion, when an even more developed interpretant is produced, and so on and so on. In this way, signs grow in an ongoing process of semiosis, or meaning making. Semi-

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osis involves not a specific ordering of events among constituents of the sign but rather a continuous dialectic among all three constituents. The dynamic and ever-developing properties of signs are seen as essential features of semiotics and, therefore, of human cognition in all settings. Sign development is promoted through ongoing and repeated experiences with phenomena, including drill and repetition for some matters. However, a sign becomes a sign only when it holds meaning for the participant. Information-processing theories are approaches that implicitly embrace the computer metaphor with its perspective and language, such as ‘inputs’ and ‘outputs.’ For the developing individual, feeling and emotion are skirted in favour of learning conscious cognitive strategies to encode verbal or quantitative material and to sharpen memory skills. In this way, information-processing approaches blend learning and development, for maturation levels are of some concern to researchers (e.g., Keil, 1989). Development is seen as a continuous process without stages, and as focusing on both domain-general and domain-specific (e.g., reading and music) cognitive abilities (see chapter 5). Jean Piaget’s Theory: An Appraisal The best-known and most comprehensive theory of human development was proposed some time ago by the Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget (1896– 1980). In the process of developing a four-level stage theory of cognitive development between birth and adolescence, Piaget and his followers conducted massive amounts of research over many years on children’s problem-solving abilities (e.g., Flavell, 1963; Piaget & Inhelder, 1969). The final stage proposed by Piaget was that of formal operations – a stage that most young people were said to reach around age eleven. Characteristics of this stage included the abilities to conduct abstract and purely symbolic thinking and to solve problems through systematic experimentation. Ever since, unwary beginning teachers trying to apply Piaget’s theory have expected every normal adolescent to be able to think abstractly about any topic raised in class. However, as a result of research conducted during the past thirty years, Piaget’s stage theory has been questioned on a number of counts. For example, Piaget and his followers used only a relatively narrow range of problem tasks under carefully specified and situationally tied conditions. These problems tended to consist of examples drawn from physical science and had only one correct answer each. One result of this kind of

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study was that it underestimated children’s competence as thinkers and disregarded the role of children’s meanings in the testing situation (cf. Donaldson, 1979). Other investigations found that children much younger than eleven are able to think formally about a topic if they possess abundant practical experience with it (Jahoda, 1980), while there is no certainty that older adolescents or even adults are able to think abstractly within a given domain if they lack the necessary experience (e.g., Flavell, 1977). In fact, results have shown that no more than 50 per cent of adults have reached the level of formal operational thinking when tested on standard Piagetian tasks. Findings such as these undercut the basic Piagetian principle that development precedes learning (cf., Panofsky, John-Steiner & Blackwell, 1990). In the end, Piaget himself admitted that experience played a central role in intellectual achievement (Piaget, 1972). Piaget did not elaborate much on developmental attributes beyond the age of eleven; thus he neglected the age range of most relevance to secondary school teachers. Although the possibility of a problem-finding stage in later adolescence was raised by Arlin (1975) in her study involving sixty female college seniors, most research today endorses the possibility of unceasing intellectual development of human beings throughout the life-span. Other investigations have threatened yet another basic Piagetian tenet – the one involving the egocentric nature of the child. Contrary to the theory’s claims, the young child is able to consider the point of view of others (e.g., Tomasello, 1999). Finally, Piaget downplayed the role of social influences in his experiments, although they received mention in his theory. Piaget acknowledged that young people employ thought, which relies on language, which in turn is a product of the social collective. Nevertheless, to Piaget, development was essentially an individual matter. To summarize, how might one assess the present status of Piaget’s theory? There is no doubt that Piaget was a giant who created a theory against which all other developmental hypotheses continue to be cast. Modern formulations of his theory continue to guide many child workers in Western cultures. Piaget’s epistemology, based on the child’s constructive interactions with its environment and on understanding emergent properties in development, continues to inspire researchers (see Karmiloff-Smith, 1992). However, research has revealed too many incorrect details for his psychological theory involving stages and structure to be valid. Piaget proposed that general, stage-like changes based on logical-mathematical formulations occurred across the full sweep of

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cognitive endeavour. However, given the differential nature of development across distinct ability domains (e.g., Gardner, 1983; KarmiloffSmith, 1992), this claim makes untenable the theory’s efforts to explain the totality of child development. For adolescents, Piaget’s theory provides even less support for the practising classroom teacher who must deal with a full range of adolescent abilities and characteristics. Lev Vygotsky’s Theory: A Comparison An alternative theory of human development that has become popular in recent years was proposed many decades ago by the Russian psychologist Lev Vygotsky (1896–1934). Vygotsky, who was born the same year as Piaget, outlined his major ideas within a Leninist framework before dying prematurely of tuberculosis at the age of thirty-seven. Although few of his major works are available in English (the best-known translation dates from 1978, and heed that translations should always be read with caution), his views have been distributed widely in a number of more contemporary publications (e.g., Moll, 1990; Wertsch, 1985; Wink & Putney, 2002). Blanck (1990) offers a fine summary of Vygotsky’s main assertions: Mental activity is uniquely human. It is the result of social learning, of the interiorization of social signs, and of the internalization of culture and social relationships. Mental development is, in essence, a sociogenetic process. Culture is internalized in the form of neuropsychic systems that form part of the physiological activity of the human brain ... The higher neural activity of human beings ... has internalized social meanings derived from the cultural activity of human beings and mediated by signs. This process occurs during the course of ontogenetic development as carried out in the social activities of children with adults, the conveyors of social experience. Social activity and practical actions also facilitate the internalization of sensorimotor schemas, important in grasping social meanings. Finally, the process of internalizing the higher mental functions is historical in nature. The structures of perception, voluntary attention and memory, emotions, thought, language, problem solving, and behaviour acquire different forms according to the historical context of the culture, its relationships, and its institutions. (44)

Thus, Vygotsky’s theory recognizes that we are all products of both genes and cultures and that we make sense of and function within our

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Cooperating with others is an important part of development.

cultures by using its tools successfully. The cultural tools, or signs, include both physical features such as hammers and hoes and psychological features such as music, gestures, and especially (for Vygotsky) language. Several general comparisons of Vygotsky’s and Piaget’s theories are in order. Piaget believed in the natural unfolding of human capabilities; Vygotsky believed that sociocultural influences were critical to the development of human minds. To Piaget, growth happened naturally; to Vygotsky, growth happened neither naturally nor unaided. For Piaget, language played only a minimal role in development; for Vygotsky, language was critical in shaping thought. Piaget focused on the individual child; Vygotsky focused on children interacting with their social environments. For Piaget, mind was within the person; for Vygotsky, mind was in society and a product of sociocultural history. An especially sharp distinction exists between the two theories concerning the role and nature of interaction with fellow human beings. For Piaget, a cognitive constructivist, the child begins with intra-individual capacities that gradually move outwards to include others. For Vygotsky, a social constructionist, the child begins with the perspectives of others before moving inside to become more autonomous over time. For Piaget, the most useful form of interaction for the developing mind occurs between equally competent individuals who treat each other’s ideas with independence and equality. However, for Vygotsky, the most productive exchanges occur between two members who are unequally competent in a given skill. Typically, in schooling, this involves a young

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person being guided through a problem either by a more competent peer or by a teacher, who structures and models the problem’s solution. This instruction takes place using one of Vygotsky’s key concepts, the zone of proximal development (or ZPD), which exists beyond the learner’s present level of competence but which is within his or her bounds of being able to benefit from instruction and to solve the problem at hand. Because Vygotsky’s theory (unlike Piaget’s) is independent of stages, there is more room in it for both theoretical advances and direct application with adolescents and adults. For example, Rogoff (1990) has proposed that the apprenticeship model of learning is appropriate both for young children and for novices of any age within a given domain. She sees apprenticeship as focusing attention on ‘the active role of children in organizing development, the active support and use of other people in social interaction and arrangements of tasks and activities, and the socioculturally ordered nature of the institutional contexts, technologies, and goals of cognitive activities’ (1990, 39). Sentiments such as these suggest that there is an important role in the classroom for competent peers helping less competent peers within existing social constraints, and for teachers providing instruction that lies just beyond the present achievement level of the students. But there is more. If tasks are cast in the context of play, with minimal involvement of adults at some key stages, students have the opportunity to negotiate meaning among themselves within these tasks. Such efforts should provide practice for students both in reading and in transmitting cultural signs – that is, in understanding others and making themselves understood to others. Recent Advances in Theory and Research In the main, recent advances in the theory and research of adolescent development have followed Vygotsky more closely than they have Piaget. Accordingly, development has been seen as linked closely both to our biological heritage and especially to our sociocultural environments. In this process, meaning making, or sense making, has been assigned a central role in the psychological development of adolescents (see H.A. Smith, 1998). As summarized below, at least four principles follow from this evolving position. stage theory is not necessary to explain development The traditional belief of many psychologists and educators is that development proceeds inevitably through an invariant sequence of stages cor-

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responding to particular ages. However, as outlined above, stage theories have been criticized on several counts. It has been known for at least thirty years that development can be explained solely in terms of the everincreasing experience of the growing child (Phillips & Kelly, 1975). This finding has been supported by novice-expert studies which have confirmed that children possessing rich domain-specific knowledge outperform adult novices (e.g., Chi, 1978). In addition, most recent research has found few of the discontinuities between stages that are predicted by stage theories. Such theories can still serve as descriptive (but not explanatory) devices, or metaphors, for the general path of development or to satisfy specific forms of learning in limited situations. However, stage theories are simply inadequate to account for the totality of human development across multiple contexts. As well, general stage theories specifying particular capabilities at specific ages and recommending special tasks and challenges for each stage are out of step with modern developments in science and mathematics. For example, Sinnott (1993) reported that, from physics, relativity and quantum physics confirm that multiple contradictory realities can all be true depending on vantage points while, from mathematics, chaos theory supports the view that adaptive disorder happens by design and leads to unpredictable outcomes. In human development, the research of Edelman (1987, 1992) that was referred to earlier posits that patterns of individual development vary with differential experiences and different innate capacities. Throughout his account, Edelman emphasizes the highly variant nature of the nervous system, which, far from being prewired, becomes wired according to environmental experiences. Other research has brought to light the fluidity of neural representation, provided evidence for the self-organization of neural structures, and indicated that these spatiotemporal structures reflect the meaning of the stimulus and not merely its presence (Barton, 1994). development is both biological and sociocultural Typically, theories of human development have paid little attention to biological predispositions or to cultural mediations. Instead, they have focused on individual performance using structured tasks similar to those of formal schooling. However, a number of researchers (e.g., Bruner & Sherwood, 1981; Freedman & DeBoer, 1979) have demonstrated that biological and cultural aspects are inseparable is any consideration of human development. Others (e.g., Bronfenbrenner, 1979; Garbarino, 1985) have addressed the ecology of development by recog-

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nizing that many systems, and relationships among systems, ground human performance. These systems incorporate the biological, psychological, social, and cultural influences that transform a child through adolescence into adulthood. Other relevant work was reviewed earlier in this chapter. For example, Edelman (1987) contended that by virtue of our brain structure and function, everyone is equipped at birth to play any sport or to speak any language invented by humans, but that the specific sport played or language spoken is dependent on the culture in which one is immersed. Within a particular cultural setting, development is characterized by increasing diversification among individuals. Much of this diversification is created by active decisions of the individuals themselves as they negotiate their places in their own environments (Scarr, 1992). development continues throughout the life span A prevailing assumption of traditional developmental stage theories is that little growth in cognitive structures takes place after adolescence. For example, Piaget (1972) maintained that for youths raised in very disadvantageous conditions, formal thought will never really occur or ‘will only develop in those individuals who change their environment while development is still possible’ (1972, 7; italics added). Today we know that development proceeds throughout one’s lifespan although, clearly, there is greater plasticity during one’s early years (Edelman, 1987, 1992). A corollary to full life development is that early childhood capabilities are neither highly predictive of adult talents nor irreversible (cf., Sinnott, 1993). Most humans continue to grow psychologically and to adapt to changing personal capabilities and environmental demands as the years pass. On this account, seniors can be as mentally active as adolescents (cf. Lave, 1988; Rogoff, 1990). development is heterogeneous in form and timing At one time, notwithstanding Vygotsky’s belief that development occurrs within particular functional systems (cf. Scribner, 1985), most developmental theories presumed uniformity of growth across the broad sweep of cognitive capacity. That view has changed gradually over the past twenty-five years at least; it is now recognized that there are many domains of human capability as well as differing growth cycles within each domain. Indeed, Piaget (1972) himself was aware of the complexity of development, for he questioned just how general his own experimental situations were. He acknowledged that carpenters might think formally in their domain of expertise but appear to function at the concrete

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level on a Piagetian task. Today, we recognize that development is multidirectional, with no one specific course of growth. Progress is defined according to local community goals, and development in particular domains is specified by both biological and cultural aspirations (e.g., Rogoff, 1990). In which human domains does development take place, at least at the individual level? Several theories have been advanced to account for our assorted capabilities. One well-known classification, proposed by Howard Gardner (1983, 1999), consists of eight distinct multiple intelligences: linguistic, musical, logical-mathematical, spatial, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and naturalistic. Gardner contends that for each of the intelligences, different developmental sequences (described as streams, waves, and channels) operate over varying lengths of time. In addition, Granott and Gardner (1994) propose the existence of a secondorder multiple-intelligences effect, one that involves an interaction of the intelligences with the environment. This effect selectively promotes certain abilities and not others. H.A. Smith (2001) suggests that semiotic development occurs in seven ‘signways,’ which generally correspond to Gardner’s array of intelligences (the implications for learning and teaching of these two theories will be explored in chapters 5 and 6). Thus, development may occur simultaneously on many different fronts depending on biological readiness and on assorted cultural pressures to value one capability over another in selected activities. A number of implications for teaching in secondary school classrooms follow from these principles. Although this topic will be developed at greater length in the following chapters, several important implications can be foreshadowed through the following suggestions. First, teachers should recognize that with regard to form and level, most student capabilities are culturally based and contextually specific. Second, teachers should try to provide a variety of tasks that appeal to several domains of ability. Third, teachers should strive to teach for student understanding instead of only for high test scores. Finally, teachers should acknowledge that a broad range of individual interests and abilities are represented in most classrooms. Moral Development Moral development involves feelings, thoughts, and behaviours relating to standards of right and wrong. Here we are concerned with the development through adolescence of a coherent set of guiding principles

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that direct one’s decisions in life. Young people are faced constantly with moral dilemmas that are new to them and for which they may be unprepared. Most teachers are aware of the value of information, discussion, and testimonials in order to prepare students for some of life’s dilemmas. But is there an adequate theory to help guide their activities in this regard? As we shall see below, theoretical considerations have begun, but those seriously interested in the growth and exercise of human moral beliefs will find the work incomplete. In Western psychology, credit for beginning the formal study of moral reasoning in children is usually given to Piaget (1932). In a series of observations and discussions, Piaget determined that there are two main stages of moral development, excluding a premoral stage up to age four, when ‘anything goes’: heteronomous morality, from ages four to seven, when rules and laws are imposed from without, seen as unchangeable properties of the world, and removed from the control of people; and autonomous morality, from age ten on, when rules and laws are seen as created by people, and, when actions are judged, both the actors’ intentions and the consequences of actions should be considered. According to Piaget, then, adolescents are able to negotiate rules rather than follow them blindly and, as well, to evaluate others’ intentions and not just the consequences of behaviours before making moral judgments. Thus, Mike who accidentally drops and breaks twelve beer mugs in the kitchen will be judged less harshly than James, who breaks one mug while trying to steal it from his uncle’s cupboard. But perhaps the best-known theory of moral development is the one created and then reformulated by Lawrence Kohlberg (1927–87). Kohlberg’s theory (see 1976, 1981, 1984) is based on two key Piagetian beliefs: that moral reasoning is based on existing cognitive capabilities; and that a stage theory approach best represents moral development. By positing a series of moral dilemmas with adolescent males, Kohlberg eventually proposed a theory that comprised three levels and six stages (see table 4.1). However, a number of problems with this theory soon arose. Only male subjects from a particular cultural background had been used in the original developmental work, the original sample size was limited, the subjects seemed to perform in different stages for different problems, individuals skipped stages or reverted to earlier stages instead of progressing in orderly fashion through the hierarchy, and contextual influences were neglected. As well, there was a difference between what people professed as a moral standard and how they actually behaved in real-life situations.

134 Teaching Adolescents Table 4.1. Kohlberg’s and Gilligan’s levels of moral development Kohlberg’s levels and stages

Gilligan’s levels

Level 1. Preconventional morality Stage 1: Punishment orientation Stage 2: Naive reward orientation

Level 1. Preconventional morality Concern for self and survival

Level 2. Conventional morality Stage 3: Good boy/girl orientation Stage 4: Authority orientation

Level 2. Conventional morality Concern for being responsible; caring for others

Level 3. Postconventional morality Stage 5: Social-contract orientation Stage 6: Morality of individual conscience

Level 3. Postconventional morality Concern for self and others as interdependent

An alternative conceptualization of moral development, one that focused on females, was proposed by Carol Gilligan (1982). Gilligan claimed that at least in American society, moral judgments are genderbased: there is a masculine orientation that emphasizes abstract principles of justice, and there is a feminine orientation that emphasizes care and compassion. Kohlberg’s theory, she claimed, was biased in favour of the former. So she developed a moral system based on the feminine orientation, consisting of three levels linked by two transitions (see table 4.1). Gilligan’s observations are useful in reminding us that moral judgments are culturally based and, even within a single society, are multifaceted. Unfortunately, Gilligan neglected to undertake a formal study of caring in both boys and girls. Subsequent research (e.g., Walker, 1989) found that when Kohlberg’s procedures are applied, few significant differences appear between men and women with regard to their levels of moral reasoning; furthermore, both sexes display concerns for both justice and caring. At this time, then, more research is required in order to test assorted theoretical claims and to determine the feasibility of creating a comprehensive theory of moral development. For example, the importance of contextual and cultural influences on moral behaviour remains understudied. One viable approach might be to extend to moral development the work of people such as Barbara Rogoff (1990), who investigate cognitive development through guided participation in socially and culturally sanctioned activities.

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In the meantime, teachers can do several things to promote the development of conscience and moral reasoning in adolescents (see Hamachek, 1995): • Help adolescents understand that they always have more than one choice in how to behave and that they are responsible for the consequences of their behaviour. • Show moral behaviour by example. Be aware that moral learning is achieved through actions and not through talking about actions. • Use classroom time to discuss issues and dilemmas faced by the adolescents themselves – drug use, racism, teen pregnancy, and so on. During these times, explore all sides of the issue at hand, encourage tolerance of divergent points of view, and help students spot inconsistencies between expressed values and actions. • Create a positive and non-judgmental classroom climate that supports and accepts differing points of view. Social and Emotional Development From the foregoing discussion, perhaps you have noted a reduced emphasis over the past generation on creating grand theories to account for the various developmental phases of adolescence. There may be two main reasons for this trend. First, recent decades have seen a much stronger focus on how humans function in their lived environments as opposed to isolated laboratory settings (in which the presumption is made that general theories are possible). Second, there has been a growing appreciation of the complexities and uncertainties inherent in creating overarching theories of human development when cultural influences are so pervasive. Accordingly, most recent theoretical formulations have been more specific and concentrated than they were two generations ago. Also, societies themselves have grown more complex over time. For example, Western society is increasingly characterized by a steady decline both in numbers of intact families and in the influence of social agencies such as churches. One consequence of these two trends has been that schools have had to deal more directly with their students’ pressing social and emotional dilemmas. Different stage theories have been proposed in the past to account for relevant developments, but most teachers have found that a few general principles are often more helpful to them in their everyday work. The next two sections review key

136 Teaching Adolescents Table 4.2. Comparison of Freud’s and Erikson’s stage theories Age

Freud’s stages

Erikson’s stages

Infancy 1.5–3 years 3–5.5 years 5.5–12 years 12–18 years 18–35 years 35 years–retirement Post-retirement

Oral Anal Phallic Latency Genital

Trust vs mistrust Autonomy vs shame & doubt Initiative vs guilt Industry vs inferiority Identity vs role confusion Intimacy vs isolation Generativity vs stagnation Ego identity vs despair

approaches to both social and emotional development, and their implications for educational practice. Social Development The first important theory in this field was the personality theory of Sigmund Freud (1856–1939). Stated simply, Freud believed that the oral, anal, and phallic stages are reached during the first six years of life and that what happens after this time is a revisiting of an earlier unresolved stage (see table 4.2). In this view, adolescence is characterized (after a six-year latency period) by a renewed effort to control sexual impulses and by a gradually strengthening superego. However, for the secondary school teacher who has not studied neo-Freudian concepts in depth, this theory is of little use. Erik Erikson (1902–94), once a student of Freud’s, offered a more comprehensive view of social development. Although he retained elements of Freudian thinking, Erikson (1980, 1982; Evans, 1981) developed a psychosocial rather than psychosexual theory. It consisted of eight stages that extended from infancy to advanced age. As shown in table 4.2, the essential task of adolescence (our main interest) is to resolve the psychosocial challenge of identity versus role confusion. During this stage the adolescent is required to assume one identity from the many possibilities offered by society. This means accepting oneself as a unique person with individual strengths and weaknesses who is able to contribute to society’s activities in a positive way. The challenges for adolescents are two: to navigate assorted body and image changes, and to coordinate their motivations, beliefs, abilities, vocational aspirations, and personal histories so as to develop a coherent and cohesive self-image.

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According to Erikson, adolescents who are unable to organize and integrate these different features effectively, or who are unable to differentiate themselves from their peers, will experience role confusion. This state of affairs is often be characterized by ongoing erratic behaviour and self-doubt, and by either excessive preoccupation with others’ opinions or a disregard of them. At the extreme, delinquency or psychopathology may result. These unfortunate results are less apt to occur when the developing individual has had positive resolutions during the previous four stages (that is, more trust than mistrust, more autonomy than shame and doubt, and so on). Erikson’s theory can be questioned on at least three counts. First, Erikson believed that most people have achieved a sense of identity by the end of adolescence; yet it now appears that most adolescents have not yet decided on their future social roles or life goals by the end of their teen years (e.g., Durkin, 1995). Second, he ignored the vital role played by cultural factors in social development. For example, many cultures do not support autonomy and initiative in young children (cf. Powell, 1983). Third, Erikson based his stages on studies of men, yet for many women, the stage of intimacy occurs simultaneously with or even precedes the stage of identity (Josselson, 1988). Thus, empirical support for Erikson’s theory is a little lighter than one would like, and little research is currently being conducted on his stages. Nevertheless, if we accept that identity achievement is an important goal for adolescents (Marcia, 1980), what are some factors we need to consider? Let us begin with the notions of competence and self-concept. The motivation to be competent, or effectance motivation (Harter, 1980; White, 1959), may be linked to both physical and cultural survival. To a large extent, adolescents make choices according to the values placed on roles and functions by the surrounding culture. The ability to achieve competence in domains valued by society and by one’s peers helps most individuals determine their individual and collective identities. For example, in Canada, achievement in the sport of ice hockey is a highly valued goal for most young males, and increasingly for young females. Those who succeed in that sport are accorded high status; those who try and fail must seek high status in other ways. The desire for competence influences much of what is learned outside school and also has implications for inschool learning, as we shall see in the next chapter. Competence in a domain promotes the development of both a selfconcept and positive self-esteem, with the latter leading to psychologically healthier people (Hamachek, 1995). To distinguish between the latter two terms, self-concept refers to the description one attaches to oneself

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concerning roles and attributes, including beliefs, feelings, and attitudes. The self-concept can be described by such terms as realistic or unrealistic, accurate or inaccurate, and consistent or inconsistent, but not as positive or negative. Thus a sixteen–year-old girl might describe herself as a poor tennis player. But if she wins most of her matches against excellent competition, we can say that her self-concept is inaccurate. Self-esteem refers to the evaluation one assigns to the self-concept but – in particular, the degree to which one is satisfied or dissatisfied with it (Beane & Lipka, 1984). The term is at least one hundred years old: William James defined it in 1892 as the ratio of one’s successes to one’s pretensions. With self-esteem, we have a value judgment concerning the self-concept that can be described as positive, negative, or neutral. Let’s return to our sixteen–year-old tennis player. Suppose she says, ‘I play tennis badly, but that doesn’t bother me. I’m great at volleyball, and all my friends are volleyball players.’ She may have an inaccurate self-concept where tennis is concerned (remember, she wins most of the time), but she does not have negative self-esteem involving that sport. As another example, tall people who describe themselves as tall may feel either positively or negatively about their height. As you can see, then, many combinations involving self-concept and self-esteem are possible. The latter is especially important in that it relates closely to one’s feelings of self-worth, and self-worth is a topic that should concern every teacher. Much has been written in the educational, psychological, and medical literature about the importance of feeling good about oneself. Today, many in-school exercises and assignments have as an explicit or implicit goal the promotion of feelings of self-worth in students. The same objective shows up in most formal provincial and state policies affecting education. Two representative investigations about the value of self-worth are presented next. The first, from the medical field, involves a study begun in 1946 on young medical students. The lead researcher was Dr Caroline Thomas of the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. The objective of the study was to find early clues to subsequent disease. Having followed the same individuals over a period of thirty-five years, the research team found that the greater threat to life was not disease or accidents but mental distress or illness. By the time the first heart attack appeared in this group of subjects, thirteen suicides had been recorded. Those with longer and healthier lives possessed psychological stamina, which had been created by several factors, including high self-esteem. These indi-

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viduals reported that they had received emotional support, acceptance, love, and understanding from the friends and family around them. The second investigation was conducted in the late 1970s by Michael Rutter and David Quinton in the inner city of London, England. This study followed up the adults who, years before, had consisted of two groups of children. One of the groups had been raised predominantly in institutions, the other group at home. In both groups, those who had more harmonious and successful lives were those who had had good experiences that raised their self-esteem and sense of control over their own lives. From this work, Rutter suggested that schools should try to foster positive interpersonal relationships and a sense of accomplishment among all students. The study did not support theories of development that emphasize fixed stages or structures. Rather, it supported a fluid notion of development – one that accepts inconsistencies in psychosocial development and the possibility of personal change over many years. What can schools and teachers do to promote self-worth in students? They can do many things, in many different ways. For example, for most extra-curricular activities they could institute a no-cut policy. Even welladjusted adults can recall vividly the times when the high school coach told them they were not good enough to make the school team; the sting lingers. Some schools are now recognizing the shortcomings of past practices and accepting everyone who turns out for extra-curricular activities and who is prepared to make the necessary sacrifices. Such a policy may mean three different squads of cheerleaders for a school (see the example below), but the participants will have experiences that they may never encounter again. Furthermore, students who are reluctant to try something at which they may not succeed initially may come to master and enjoy the activity, and learn a number of other life lessons in the process. Some detractors contend that this is no preparation for real life, which is full of challenges and disappointments. But most high school students aged between fourteen and eighteen are still uncertain about who they are and what they can do. To reduce their options prematurely should not be a mandate of the formal educational system. One American school with a no-cut policy is Plainfield Community Middle School in Plainfield, Indiana (Ryan, 1992). In 1991, even though it accepted every student who wanted to participate on various sports teams – where the demand for success is usually very high – the school earned eight championships and was county-wide champion in wrestling, boys’ cross-country, and boys’ swimming. There were seventy-three

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Tips for Teachers On Promoting Self-Esteem and Self-Worth 1 Create a classroom climate that features democratic procedures, respect, fairness, flexibility, and social interaction. Among other things, this means being accepting of passing fads and odd behaviours that do not hurt or offend others. 2 Allow students some control in the classroom through meaningful participation in decision making. For example, let them help formulate class rules and evaluate their own progress. Teachers may have to provide some initial instruction or guidance on these points. 3 Give students opportunities to experiment with different roles. Point out examples of possible role models. 4 Support students in their search for resources, such as community agencies and guidance counsellors, to solve personal difficulties. 5 Provide realistic feedback to students. Give positive feedback for their accomplishments and give corrective feedback in the context of positive regard. Give students model answers or examples of behaviour so that they have something definite to work towards. 6 Consider cultural differences, as adolescent identity searches may result in conflict with family or cultural values.

cheerleaders at the school, arranged in three different squads, which alternated games. They may not have reached the pinnacle in cheerleading ability, but they had lots of spirit, they were proud to participate, and they had plenty of fun. One eighth grader reported: ‘I’m going to high school next year, and I know I won’t make the cheerleading squad there. I know there are a lot of girls who are better at it than I am. But at least I got to have the experience. And that’s something I can remember all my life’ (ibid., 1992, 10). Teachers and schools can contribute to the development of identity and positive self-esteem in several ways besides this (see Tips for Teachers; see also Beane [1991] and Canfield [1990]).

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Emotional Development A key feature of the information processing approach to human development and learning is that it focuses on matters that are conscious, abstract, and rational; put another way, it embraces the ‘human as computer’ metaphor. Unfortunately, this approach leads to the neglect of some important human qualities that are relevant to teaching, such as motivation and emotion. Much current research highlights the critical role of the emotions in all human endeavours (see Damasio, 1999; Konner, 2002; Manstead, Frijda & Fischer, 2004). This direction in research is supported by the composition of the Peircean sign for at the very beginning or heart of the sign introduced in chapter 1 is feeling, sensation, and quality. To Peirce, every developing sign represents the universal categories of Firstness (feeling, quality, and emotion), Secondness (lived experience), and Thirdness (the laws or habits usually associated with rational thought). Accordingly, the psychosemiotic view adopted in this book accepts that emotion is present in every living act and in every cognition. From this, it is clear that adolescent emotion should be of concern to every teacher. Emotion has been defined as ‘a feeling and its distinctive thoughts, psychological and biological states, and range of propensities to act’ (Goleman, 1995, 289; italics added). As noted earlier, we experience assorted emotions along with our cognitive thoughts. The universal emotions are said to include anger, disgust, sadness, enjoyment, fear, and surprise (Darwin, 1998). Moreover, individuals differ in their abilities to control or direct their emotions in positive ways. The steps towards the increasing control and channelling of emotions are referred to collectively as emotional development and are an important part of socialization. Daniel Goleman (1995) advanced a powerful argument in support of the need to address emotional development in a very direct manner. First, he examined the biological evidence indicating that environmental inputs reach our emotional centres before they reach our higher cognitive centres (see also Manstead, Frijda & Fischer, 2004). The main implication of this brain-mind relationship is that in most modern social situations, people must learn to restrain their initial impulsive behaviours until they have taken time to think deliberately about the situation at hand. Of course, there are some exceptions to this position, which reflect eons of phylogenetic development: one may react before thinking so as to avoid a sudden catastrophic event (for example, one may leap away from an out-of-control vehicle).

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Goleman (1995; see also Salovey et al., 2004) then summarized the evidence to show that those with high emotional intelligence – that is, those with high self-control, zeal, persistence, and the ability to be self-motivated – succeed much better in life than those with low emotional intelligence. This holds even though the latter group may have done much better at school and registered a higher intelligence quotient (IQ). The importance of emotional intelligence should be obvious to every teacher who has observed apparently senseless acts of vandalism against the school, such as the deliberate smashing of a computer monitor, the breaking of every toilet in the boys’ washroom, or the painting of obscenities on the school’s front door. Other indications of low emotional intelligence are interpersonal, such as when an individual interprets an accidental bump in the school hallway as a deliberate aggressive act and begins a savage fistfight with the surprised ‘offending’ person. Clearly, there are non-academic qualities that help promote individual success and that not every adolescent possesses for one reason or another. Many adolescents who lack emotional intelligence come from neglectful, unpredictable, or abusive family situations and have never had the support or parental modelling to develop qualities such as trust in others and responsibility for one’s own actions. Many educational programs have been developed over the past thirty years to promote emotional development in young people (see Goleman, 1995). The students in such programs learn to identify and label their feelings, delay gratification, express and manage their feelings, reduce their own stress, and read and interpret social signs or cues. They also learn the steps for problem solving and decision making. They learn to understand others’ perspectives and behavioural norms. Finally, they gain self-awareness and develop their verbal and non-verbal skills. The following are suggested techniques for cultivating emotional development in secondary school classrooms (see McDevitt & Ormrod, 2002): • • • •

Create an atmosphere of acceptance, warmth, and trust. Encourage students to express their feelings. Help students read the signs of others’ emotional cues. Discuss the emotions of characters studied in the various subject areas. • Acknowledge that cultures differ in means of emotional expression. • Help students keep their anxiety levels manageable. • Model appropriate ways to deal with negative emotions.

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Emotional development in adolescence is linked closely to social development and, indeed, to the other forms of development that have been isolated in this chapter. In practice, it may be difficult and sometimes not even fruitful to try to distinguish among these assorted developmental areas. Because different forms of development are involved to at least some degree in nearly every issue, intending teachers should become acquainted with all of them.

Selected Reading Garbarino, J. (1985). Adolescent development: An ecological perspective. Columbus, OH: Charles E. Merrill. One of many textbooks on the psychology of adolescence. As a bonus, this one recognizes that every adolescent behaviour occurs in some sociocultural context. Goleman, D. (1995). Emotional intelligence. New York: Bantam. This popular book reviews research on emotion to isolate qualities that distinguish people who are emotionally mature. One important feature is that it describes several school-based programs designed to enhance students’ emotional intelligence. Konner, M. (2002). The tangled wing: Biological constraints on the human spirit (2nd ed.). New York: Times Books/Henry Holt. A comprehensive review underlining the biological bases for human behaviour and emotions. A useful perspective that shows us to be a complex amalgam of biology and culture, and that places classroom teaching in a broader context. Lock, A., & Peters, C.R. (Eds.) (1999). Handbook of human symbolic evolution. Oxford: Blackwell. A 906-page book with twenty-eight chapters covering many aspects of human symbolic development across evolutionary time. A fine reference for the serious student of cognitive development from the beginning of humankind. Rogoff, B. (1990). Apprenticeship in thinking: Cognitive development in social context. New York: Oxford University Press. A fine treatment of Piaget’s and Vygotsky’s major views concerning human development, together with suggestions for their application in practical settings. Most of the specific examples involving children will need some adaptation to suit the secondary classroom.

5 Signs of Learning

DOUG Doug Lee was a fountain of information on popular North American musicians of the past forty years, although his favourite was Ronnie Hawkins. If you wanted to know anything about the Hawk, Doug was the person to ask. Other students thought him a bit eccentric but respected his depth of knowledge about music. His teachers often tried to stump him, usually unsuccessfully – with questions about drummers in obscure bands or names of songwriters. Doug loved the attention and respect this knowledge brought him. Unfortunately, this level of performance did not carry over into his academic subjects. He could understand the concepts being discussed in class but was unable to transmit this knowledge into written form on tests and exams. The main problem on these occasions was his inability to answer the question asked. Sometimes he simply wrote what he could recall hoping that the teacher would give him some marks for effort even though the information was not related to the question. On his latest geography test with Mr Sanders last Friday, Doug had simply stared at his test paper for at least ten minutes before starting to write anything. Even then Mr. Sanders noticed that Doug seemed to be in some difficulty, given his facial grimacing and bodily twisting in his chair. When Doug handed in his paper at the end of the hour, Mr Sanders took a quick look at it and noticed that for many of his answers, Doug had simply rephrased the test questions. Adapted from Durkin (2003, 131)


Learning and Its Major Approaches This chapter focuses on learning, a matter usually seen as the essence of education and the primary if not sole reason for formal schooling.

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Human learning is complex and puzzling – complex in that many factors somehow combine to advance our knowledge and understanding of a given topic, and puzzling in that we rarely know for sure the extent to which we or (especially) others have learned something. A central claim of the present chapter is that in this situation of having so little access to what someone else has learned, all we ever have to work with are diverse signs of learning. This circumstance is especially pertinent for teachers. The best that teachers can do when gauging learning in their students is become astute readers of signs and able to infer, for example, what a grade of 62 per cent might signify or what silence to a posed question might mean. Because we cannot see inside individual brains to ‘read’ what is there, the only signs available to us are overt in some way. In school, those signs are usually taken to consist of students grades on written assignments and exams. Yet, as will be examined in this chapter, learning and its signs go far beyond this single limited form of representation. For teachers, signs of student learning may also consist of such diverse objects (used in the Peircean sense discussed in chapter 1) as motor responses, working models, diagrams, contributions to class discussions, and video productions. The opening case of Doug illustrates that learning takes a variety of forms and that many attending factors may weigh in on what is or is not learned. The chapter opens with an introduction to learning by summarizing six levels, which range from the highly biological to the highly cultural. The chapter then outlines three commonly accepted approaches to formal human learning: behavioural, information processing or cognitive constructivist, and cultural constructivist. The information processing perspective is the one most often adopted by cognitive psychologists; the cultural constructivist one is most congenial to cultural psychologists and semioticians. Some of the strengths and weaknesses of the three paths are explored, and their positions with respect to various issues in learning, teaching, and schooling are listed. Finally, this chapter considers the various channels of representation – here called signways – through which learning and meaning can occur in both individual and cultural arenas. The main purpose of this chapter is to provide some theoretical grounding to learning before some attending applications and implications are addressed in chapter 6. As just noted, three views of learning predominate in modern educational practice. The first is behaviourism – the predominant perspective for more than half the twentieth century – which takes learning to be the strengthening of responses (e.g., Alberto & Troutman, 1990; Kaplan,

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1991). The other two perspectives posit that the most significant learning takes place when the learner is able to understand or make sense of something. Hence, the second perspective – information processing or cognitive constructivism – emphasizes the essentially cognitive and individual nature of coming to know and understand (e.g., Mayer, 1992; Neisser, 1967). The third perspective, cultural constructivism, emphasizes the sociocultural nature of knowledge construction by including other people along with cultural tools and artefacts (e.g., Bruner, 1990, 1996). Semiotics and its subdiscipline of psychosemiotics identify most closely with cultural constructivism but accept that signs of various kinds ground all three perspectives. Other researchers emphasize issues such as the importance of authentic tasks, the complexity of what is learned, and the role of prior knowledge. Learning is seen as occurring through observation, imitation, problem solving, exploration, discussion, and practice. Furthermore, learning is expressed through various talents, intelligences (Gardner, 1983), or signways (H.A. Smith, 2001) that reflect different ways of understanding phenomena. Thus some researchers have developed theories specific to major domains of knowledge such as solving physics problems, fixing carburetors, or learning dances. In these and other endeavours, and depending on one’s perspective, learning may be viewed as changes in behaviour, as the enhanced ability to read signs or process information, as becoming enculturated, or as development. The semiotic view adopted here is that learning is semiosis (see chapter 1) – that is, the process of making meaning whereby acquaintance with a given sign is both broadened and deepened through repeated experience. Six Levels of Learning The complexities of learning and its assorted relationships with both heredity and environment (see chapter 4) have been known for many years. One comprehensive view of this intricate field was offered by the world-famous ethologist Konrad Lorenz (1977), who proposed that six different levels of learning characterize the full reach of human capacity. The first of these is situated at the biological and most fundamental level of human functioning. Here, the human genome (defined generally as the genetic material of an organism) learns by trial and error and may acquire and store indefinitely large amounts of information. However, the time required for the organism to adjust its behaviour for the sake of survival spans at least one generation. Accordingly, this conduit

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of learning is of minimal interest to most practising educators, although some may wonder about the cross-generational effects on our biology of human habits such as continuous computer use and overeating. The second level of learning consists of short-term mechanisms that use negative feedback to maintain constant conditions such as homeostasis within the organism. These mechanisms cannot store information. Their operations represent already adapted functions rather than processes of adaptation. However, these mechanisms acquire and exploit information continuously and may function an unlimited number of times without any change in the machinery. Indeed, such mechanisms must be resistant to any modifications through experience in order to provide the foundation for the incredible number of changes that occur at other levels of learning. Educators disregard this form of learning in their activities. The third level consists of mechanisms for the adaptive modification of behaviour. Here, behaviour is modified within the organism’s lifetime to enhance survival. Theorists believe that ‘open programs’ within the genes permit the absorption of external information that determines which of several behavioural possibilities will be realized. Once a possibility has been determined, the new adaptation is made permanent and the information on which it is based becomes stored. In the process of altering the central nervous system, these mechanisms acquire and store information and thereby repeat the capability of the genome, albeit within the individual’s lifespan. Habits and other behaviour patterns such as imprinting in animals are established at this level through association – a psychological position supported most strongly by Clark Hull (1884–1952) and his followers from the 1930s to the 1950s (Snelbecker, 1974). These psychologists contended that the laws of behaviour established at this level would account for all learning. However, other observers, such as Lorenz (1977), have noted that trying to explain higher-level processes by using categories derived from lower levels is simply not possible. Although teachers are not usually concerned overtly with this level of learning either, students’ needs and classroom incentives and activities may well interact to create a more or less congenial learning setting. The fourth level of learning involves conditioning by reinforcement. Most teachers are familiar with this level. The two main types of conditioning that have been supported so far are classical conditioning, usually identified with the Russian Ivan Pavlov (1849–1936), and operant conditioning, which was researched extensively by the American B.F. Skinner (1904– 90). Both these forms of learning – especially operant conditioning –

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have been involved extensively in formal schooling over the past fifty years at least and are associated with the behavioural approach to learning. These two types of conditioning will be considered in greater detail in the next section of this chapter. The fifth level of learning involves conceptual thought, which is the focus of most modern teachers. Conceptual thought involves a qualitatively different form of learning from those described earlier because it uses or develops certain functions. These functions include insight-controlled behaviour, voluntary movement, exploratory behaviour, imitation, and ‘tradition’ – that is, the transmission of individually acquired knowledge from one generation to the next (Lorenz, 1977). At this level, human thought and cognition is considered possible and the human mind is said to exist. Educators have directed most of their attention and energies towards this level of learning. The sixth level of learning is cultural thought. Even today, most psychologists and educators consider learning to be an individual, private event confined to the single human mind; for this reason they disregard or downplay the importance of outside influences. However, we have come to realize the importance of environmental and cultural influences on learning for both the individual and the collective of which the individual is a part. Recent views – especially the cultural constructivist position – see learning as constructing both individual and collective knowledge and selves. In this way, learning is as much the creation of culture as it is the growth of individual knowledge. Individual cognition both affects and is affected by the surrounding culture and its activities. Let us dwell on these final two levels of learning so as to link them within the classroom context. Approaches to learning at both levels have tended to assume some form of interpersonal relationship between learners and teachers. Information processing or cognitive constructivist models emphasize individual students actively making sense of what is taught in relation to other factors such as their own prior knowledge. This form of learning or meaning making is taken to be essentially private and individual and happening within one’s head. By contrast, cultural constructivist models emphasize that cognitive learning is composed essentially of sociocultural, interactive, and interpersonal dimensions. These models maintain that learning is situated within a culture in which teachers engage students in ‘processes of coming to know’ or in enculturation to shared understandings (Reid, Forrestal & Cook, 1989). Although some scholars have argued for a long time that the two perspectives are complementary, researchers still tend to emphasize one

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over the other. For example, consider the statement by one cognitive constructivist who recognizes the existence of social elements: ‘The sociocultural perspective informs [individual] theories of the conditions for the possibility of learning, whereas theories developed from the [individual] constructivist perspective focus on what students learn and the processes by which they do so’ (Cobb, 1994, 13). However, a cultural constructivist argument reads as follows: ‘Learning is a process that takes place in a participation framework, not in an individual mind’ (Lave & Wenger, 1991, 15). Until quite recently, constructivist models were not recognized formally in most western classrooms. Rather, instruction occurred at Lorenz’s (1977) fourth and fifth levels of learning and thus involved behavioural approaches that employed a transmission model in which active teachers passed on discrete units of knowledge to passive students. Later on – more at the fifth level of learning – information processing models assumed that teachers transmitted information and that students actively processed this information according to specific and yet to be determined algorithms. Learning in some form occurs in all classrooms, no matter which model the teacher has adopted or how aware the teacher is of the implications of that model for classroom instruction. Whatever the situation, questions to ask include the following. What is being learned in this classroom, and what is the worth of what is being learned here (Weade, 1992)? How well does a specific model help us understand what is being learned? How can we teach to enhance that learning? It may be that in order to enhance student learning as construction, it will be necessary for educators to negotiate with students about the students’ new roles and about their responsibility for making their own meanings about what is being ‘taught.’ Corbett and Wilson (1995) describe this as making a difference with students, as opposed to making a difference for students. The Behaviourist Approach The dominant perspective on teaching and learning over the past century has depicted teaching as transmission and learning as the passive absorption of facts and skills. This view is consistent with the tenets of behaviourism, which encompasses two ways of explaining learning as conditioning: classical conditioning, and operant conditioning. Both types of conditioning focus on observable events or behaviours. Classical conditioning describes events in terms of stimuli and responses, whereas

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operant conditioning describes them in terms of responses and reinforcements. Both emphasize repeated pairings of events or continued practice. Classical conditioning is usually associated with I.P. Pavlov. When studying the digestion and salivary secretions of dogs, Pavlov made a surprising discovery: although dogs originally salivated when they received food powder (an unconditioned stimulus), over time they began to salivate when the trainer arrived to feed them. The trainer, a previously neutral stimulus, had been paired with the food powder so often that he elicited the same response as the food. Pavlov called the food an unconditioned stimulus and the salivation an unconditioned response. He described the response to the trainer as a conditioned response, a result of conditioning or pairing the two stimuli repeatedly. Thus the first element of the classical conditioning approach is an initiating external stimulus called S. This stimulus is a cue that acts as an automatic trigger for the second element, the response called R. According to behaviourists, the response is caused directly by the stimulus, and any unobserved process occurring between the two is not discussed. We can all cite examples of repeated pairings in school that condition a response to a previously neutral stimulus. For example, a student who has experienced success in algebra with a particular teacher may arrive enthusiastically for the first class in physics with the same teacher the following term. The positive experiences with algebra may have been paired so frequently with the teacher that the teacher elicits positive affect from the student even though the latter does not know what will be taught in the physics class. Of course, one can also imagine another student making a corresponding negative response to the physics course after experiencing failure in algebra with the same teacher. The central principle in the operant conditioning model is that organisms respond according to how they have been reinforced in the past. In this model the focus is on the response–reinforcement link rather than the stimulus–response link (although some operant behaviourists refer to reinforcement as the stimulus). Emphasis rests with adjusting the reinforcers so that desired responses are obtained. E.L. Thorndike (1874–1949) first expressed this principle in his law of effect. Later, B.F. Skinner studied reinforcement extensively and extended existing views. For example, he described the patterns of response that occur under different schedules of reinforcement, such as continuous reinforcement and intermittent reinforcement. Skinner (e.g., 1953) also developed the notion of shaping a response by reinforcing successive approximations

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Related Issues Can non-human animals think? Do non-human animals have minds? The traditional belief – one that incorporates both cultural and religious perspectives – places humans at the very pinnacle of earth’s flora and fauna, with special enhanced qualities shared by no other form of living being. Supporting this belief are claims that humans and humans alone can ‘think,’ are conscious, and have minds. We know now (thanks to Galileo) that the earth is not the centre of the universe and (thanks to Darwin) that humans evolved like every other creature. The mind, however, constitutes another frontier, and one where human-centred notions may yet be challenged. Many of us have had pets, such as cats and dogs, and have been convinced that Fluffy and Fido possessed cognitive powers even if they were not fluent in English, French, or Spanish. These observations have received support from research which shows, for example, that monkeys can lie to their associates about the direction in which to find food (e.g., Griffin, 1992), and from zookeepers who report sophisticated escapes of apes from their cages (Linden, 1999). Discuss this issue with your peers, giving examples of learning and apparent cognition among the non-human animals you have known.

to the desired behaviour. In this model of learning the only signs worth paying attention to are observable responses and specified reinforcements. Unseen and unmeasured cognitive operations are disregarded as irrelevant. For operant behaviourists a reinforcer is anything that increases the probability of a response occurring. A positive reinforcer is something that is added to the situation in order to increase the probability of a response occurring, such as praise, candy, or money given out when a desired behaviour has been produced. A negative reinforcer – probably an unpleasant stimulus, is something taken away from the situation to increase the probability of a response occurring. An example of a negative reinforcer is the buzzing or ringing sound in a car that stops as soon as the seat belts are fastened. Positive reinforcement is said to occur when a positive reinforcer is paired with a response, whereas negative reinforcement occurs

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when a negative reinforcer is paired with a response. Negative reinforcement should not be confused with punishment, which is something added to the situation to decrease the probability of a response occurring. There are two forms of punishment: presentation punishment, where an unpleasant stimulus (such as scolding) follows a behaviour, and removal punishment, or penalty, where a pleasant stimulus is removed following a behaviour (for example, the chance to go to recess is taken away from a student who has just hit another). We are all familiar with attempts to incorporate various forms of positive and negative reinforcement, and punishment, into ongoing classroom management and discipline. When we shift our attention from discipline to learning, we find that educational applications based on behavioural models have encountered a number of setbacks over the past thirty-five years and are now much less popular than they once were. For example, one classic study involving young children reported surprising and somewhat upsetting findings (upsetting, that is, to behaviourists). Lepper, Greene, and Nesbitt (1973) made observations in a preschool where children spent much of their free time drawing. They placed the children in three groups: No Reward for drawing; an Expected Reward for drawing (here, for drawing pictures); and an Unexpected Reward for drawing (that is, they did not expect in advance, but were later given, certificates for drawing pictures). After the rewards had been given, the researchers came back to see how the children spent their free time in the preschool. Lepper and his colleagues found that the children who did the least drawing after the end of the reinforcement were those who had been in the Expected Reward condition. Children in the Unexpected Reward condition and the No Reward condition continued to draw at the high rates seen before the intervention. This unexpected finding suggested to the researchers that even young children do not develop automatic responses to cues (stimuli) in the presence of reinforcers. The researchers argued in this study and in other related research that the children thought about their experience. They said the children justified their activity. For two groups, drawing continued to be justified because it was fun. But for the children who were expecting rewards, the justification had switched to drawing as a way to get a reward. When there were no more rewards, there was less justification for drawing and the children tended to move towards other activities. The researchers were not concerned about the rate of drawing but rather about the notion that something that had been play for the children (that is, drawing) had been turned into work.

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This transition occurred after reinforcement was given for something that was a desired behaviour but that was already happening for its own sake. This and other research indicates that the indiscriminate use of positive reinforcement may not be such a good thing. Rewards may have hidden costs, and learners may be much more strategic about these things than some of us want to believe. Additional qualifications concerning application of the behavioural model while disregarding internal motivations were outlined in a far-reaching article by McKeachie (1974). According to this latter body of work, defining learning as change in behaviour does not offer rich interpretations of student meaning making in specific knowledge domains, especially when knowledge is negotiated by groups of students and their teachers. That is to say, the signs of learning extend well beyond simple behavioural manifestations. Nevertheless, behavioural approaches to teaching and learning continue to have some place in classrooms, especially where special conditions, special learners, or high emphases on basic skills reflect the dominant environment (see the section ‘Explicit Teaching’ in chapter 7 for further details). The Information Processing (Cognitive Constructivist) Approach During the 1950s and 1960s, with behavioural explanations of learning becoming increasingly inadequate, interest in unseen mental operations began to revive after many decades of relative dormancy. In this renewal, human learning and thinking were understood in terms of the information theory that evolved with the development of computers after the Second World War. Within this framework, mental events were described in terms of information processing and the computer program became the analogue of human learning and thinking. The hope was that by trying to simulate human problem solving with the linear sequences of computer programs, psychologists would have concrete examples of what went on in the black box between input (the behaviourist’s stimulus) and output (the behaviourist’s response). Researchers such as Newell and Simon (1972) often studied the problem solving of individuals by asking them to think aloud and describe all the steps taken in the course of solving a problem. The cognitive revolution in human learning has been seen to begin with George Miller’s (1956) famous paper arguing that human shortterm memory holds seven (plus or minus two) bits of information.

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Besides short-term memory, researchers soon posited an array of other memories and cognitive processes, such as long-term memory, mediumterm memory, retrieval, executive functions (whatever and where ever they are), and expectancies. Executive controls were seen to influence the strategies chosen for reaching goals while expectancies were thought to influence learners to anticipate certain kinds of information and outcomes. Cognitive psychologists and educators sought to teach students various learning or study strategies – assorted ways in which to memorize and recall material for formal tests of learning – and to self-monitor these activities. Gradually, many psychologists came to recognize the limitations of the computer and the computer program as analogies for human learning and thinking. Dreyfus and Dreyfus (1986) provided one well-known statement about the failure of information processing and artificial intelligence, in particular, to represent human capacities. As a means to understanding how people learned the complex knowledge of school curricula, processing began to appear as only one part of something much more than the acquisition of information. It seemed that people made sense of the knowledge that was taught rather than acquiring it. Although there was no revolution or dramatic rejection of information processing, as there had been of behaviourism, there was a steady drift towards a new cognitive approach to understanding learning. Just as forms of information processing were adopted by some neobehaviourists, so some information processors came to adopt the language of cognitive constructivism. This means that unless readers examine researchers’ premises or probe their epistemological underpinnings as outlined earlier in this chapter, it is sometimes difficult to tell whether an information processing or a cognitive constructivist agenda is being advanced. Currently, the dominant approach to explaining higher levels of human learning is the constructivist one, even though much school theory and practice continues to emphasize behavioural and traditional information-processing views. The constructivist perspective has two main groupings: the cognitive or individual-centred focus, and the cultural or collective-centred focus. This text will adopt the usual convention of applying the term cognitive to the individual case, although some researchers view cognition as an essentially cultural phenomenon. Others have begun to show more sympathy for the argument that these two groupings are not antithetical, but rather are complementary in helping us understand what higher-level learning is and how such learning is accomplished.

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Another set of distinctions requires attention at this point. Earlier, I appeared to equate the information processing approach with cognitive constructivism. Then, in the last paragraph, we discussed how cognitive and cultural constructivism constitute two emphases within the constructivist perspective. Which leads to this question: Does information processing differ from constructivism? To answer rather indirectly, the main difference between the standard information processing perspective and a true constructivist one boils down to the researcher’s (or teacher’s) epistemological view regarding what constitutes learning and how learning can be explained. Both information processing and cognitive constructivism (as I have labelled it) assume that individual learning is constructed according to algorithms that can be specified and by the use of schemas that can be isolated for systematic study. The goal of researchers working in this tradition is to derive general laws or statements about learning at its fifth level (see Lorenz’s [1977] distinctions earlier in this chapter). The underlying world view of information processing approaches revolves around mechanism (Pepper, 1942), which adopts the root metaphor of, and likens the learner to, a machine. Since the late 1940s the machine in question has been the modern computer. True constructivist approaches attempt to understand the intentional behaviours, or actions, engaged in by the learner instead of seeking general laws of learning. The focus is often on individual intentions, actions, and meanings, but the dynamic interface between individuals and their cultures is also emphasized. In this perspective, learning becomes an interactive, ongoing, and ever-changing activity in which the learner both shapes and is shaped by the environmental surround. The relevant world view is called contextualism (ibid.,) which adopts the root metaphor of the historic event. Events, which emphasize history and context, are inherently situational and derive most of their meanings from the contexts in which they occur. In a true constructivist approach, the individual learner is engaged in an authentic and culturally sanctioned task that results in the construction of a personal identity along with cognitive elements. Simultaneously, the learner is participating in the construction of a collective identity. That is to say, when students are working with their classmates on group tasks, both individual and group personalities and histories are being constructed. Thus, cognition takes on a broader meaning than usual. As you might have guessed by now, it can be difficult at times to distinguish a constructivist approach that adopts the world view of mechanism and one that endorses contextualism. The task is not made easier

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when a researcher with an information processing perspective begins to use most of the terms associated with cognitive constructivism. Conversely many cognitive constructivists today use information processing language. Accordingly, in the following pages, the tendency will be to blur the distinction between information processing and cognitive constructivism whenever the focus is on the individual learner. In the cognitive constructivist perspective, more emphasis is placed on the sense making by the individual than on sense making by the individual within the group, although, of course, the group continues to exist in the background. When students make their own sense of things from the attending signs, they do not necessarily make the sense intended by their teachers, because their previous experiences with these signs are inevitably different. The more students work ideas over in the semiotic process, the more they learn – and the more similar their meanings become to those with whom they are learning. For individuals, conscious reflection is part of the learning process. The implication is that people need to reflect actively on what they have done and on what they have learned. Teachers and peers must sometimes help students make connections so that they can benefit from reflecting on their own experiences. In the cognitive constructivist perspective, it is important to heed the semiosis of students and the senses they are making of the tasks and situations facing them. Some have argued that teachers tend to emphasize the packaging and delivery of what students ought to know, and to avoid thinking about how students are construing that knowledge. It is in this how that actual learning takes place (Dewey, 1902/1966; Prawat, 1992). Shifting the emphasis to meaning making encourages teachers to focus much more on how students are trying to understand particular aspects of the subject matter and on critical issues of content selection (Prawat, 1992). The first implication here is that teachers must consider students’ thinking and learning when selecting which knowledge to teach, planning their lessons, and evaluating their teaching. Guessing about what sense particular students are making of a lesson is almost certain to lead to imaginative ways of checking on the conjecture; this leads to more individualized assessments of learning. Thus, by paying close attention to various student signs of learning, teachers become more effective instructional agents. When teachers become astute readers of students’ signs, they are able to understand how students interpret the present context, other implicit messages, and the norms of discourse in the classroom. Students may be unwilling to contribute their ideas in discussion because they worry about

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being censured or humiliated. Again, conjecturing about how particular students construe the prevailing conditions will make teachers more sensitive to the range of students in their classrooms and probably lead them to check their interpretations by asking students about their sense making. From the cognitive constructivist perspective, researchers and teachers try to understand the processing of individual learners; for their part, those students try to learn and understand the dominant signs and symbols of their culture. The Cultural Constructivist Approach Over the past fifteen years, much has been written about social constructivism (Cobb, 1994), situated cognition (Brown, Collins & Duguid, 1989), and the culturally situated and activity-centred nature of human learning (Barab & Plucker, 2002; Lave, 1993). But these topics should not be seen as new ones. In fact, the study of meaning making and its foundations in sociocultural experience is an old, if not always respected, tradition in western scholarship. For example, nearly three hundred years ago Giambattista Vico (1668–1744) emphasized the cultural-historical foundations of human mentality by describing one’s humanity as an ensemble of social relations (Bergin & Fisch, 1968). In the 1800s a strong Germanic tradition of folk psychology emphasized collective mental phenomena; this was supported by a number of prominent scholars, including Moritz Lazarus (1824–1903), Hajim Steinthal (1823–99), Wilhelm Dilthey (1833–1911), and especially Wilhelm Wundt (1832–1920), who also founded the first psychological laboratory in 1879 (Jahoda, 1993). However, perhaps the best-known work in this tradition is that of the Russian sociohistorical school of thought as represented by Aleksei Leontiev (1904–79), Aleksandr Luria (1902–77), and especially Lev Vygotsky (1896–1934), who was introduced in chapter 4. At least three main premises lie at the heart of Vygotsky’s theory and research (see Rogoff, 1990; Vygotsky, 1978; Wertsch, 1985). The first is that human beings are linked with the physical world and with one another through processes of cultural mediation. This mediation is achieved by using both the psychological tools or signs (such as maps and languages) and the technical tools (such as hoes and hammers) of the surrounding culture. This suggests that as humans learn, they become more and more competent in using the tools (or signs) valued by the society to which they belong. Tasks are meaningful to the extent that these tools are employed in solving realworld problems posed by the surrounding culture (e.g., Brown et al.,

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1989). Traditionally, the tools most valued by mainstream North American school systems have consisted of the symbol systems associated with reading, writing, and mathematics. However, some people contend that school systems should emphasize other tools of the culture – ones that involve the hands and body as well as the head. This point will be amplified later in this chapter. The second Vygotskian premise is that cultural mediation and thus human psychological functions are historical phenomena that undergo continuous and lifelong change. That is, there is no end to learning. Every learning increment is linked to what has been learned in the past and is shaped by the contextual nature of the present task, including personal motivation. To recast the semiotic process described in chapter 1, learning is the construction of present versions of past experience and the restructuring or recasting of prior knowledge as increasingly complex understanding. Thus, teachers should never see any piece of human learning as fixed and complete. The third premise is that human psychological functions arise from practical activity in specific contexts with others. Theories of situated activity do not separate action, thought, feeling, and value from cultural-historic forms of meaningful activity. That is, knowledge and its situated features are learned inseparably, and all learning is learning in practice. Participation in ongoing activity is taken as a given, and individuals acquire understanding rather than specific behaviours. Understanding arises in the context of past experience, present tasks, facility with tools, and sociocultural expectations. For the cultural constructivist, understanding is a group phenomenon in which no single individual possesses all the information necessary and several must act together to achieve success (Hutchins, 1993). Learning and thinking are situated in cultural contexts rather than solely in individual minds (Rogoff & Lave, 1984). Much of what is learned involves enculturation into a knowing group with its ways of making sense of things. In this sense, school is a particular type of community with its own forms of cultural knowledge. Individual success in this setting depends mainly on meeting group goals and on advancing the goals and aspirations of the school. For cultural constructivists, teaching means creating challenging tasks and placing groups in situations requiring active involvement or practice (see also chapter 6). Participation in activities with the guidance of slightly more skilled partners enables learners to internalize a more mature approach, which they can then practise in a given cultural context (Vygotsky, 1978). Group rather than individual recollections are

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employed. Every participant has a meaningful role to play by virtue of possessing some unique information that is contributed to the group cause. No one is expected to know everything about the situation at hand, and vicarious learning is accepted as common and normal. Learning as apprenticeship in a genuine (that is, not contrived) community is a natural extension of this view (Lave & Wenger, 1991). The cultural constructivist approach to learning shares many assumptions with cognitive constructivism; however, it pays much more attention to the sociocultural nature of living and learning. In following the lead established by people such as Vygotsky (1978) and Mead (1934) many years ago, more and more educational researchers today are emphasizing the central role that society, culture, and setting play in learning. Clearly, over the years, many teachers and other educators involved with adolescents have subscribed to the cultural mediation approach whether they have realized it or not. In this respect, they have been well ahead of those researchers who continue to function within individually oriented behavioural and information processing paradigms. Comparing the Major Approaches to Learning The three main approaches to human learning that deal with Lorenz’s (1977) fourth through sixth levels of learning have now been reviewed: the behavioural, the information processing or cognitive constructivist, and the cultural constructivist. The first two approaches embrace the world view of mechanism to explain learning, whereas the third approach adopts the world view of contextualism (Pepper, 1942). However, there are other important dimensions to explore so far as school learning is concerned. Each approach extends beyond learning in itself to accept – implicitly or explicitly – views on such matters as what constitutes knowledge, how learning takes place, what the goals of learning are, and what the roles are of student and teacher in the formal setting. Remember that your approach to (or philosophy of) learning will strongly influence your classroom conduct, your forms of instruction, which student behaviours you find acceptable, and in general the signs you value and heed. Table 5.1 should help you in these regards. The chart lists eleven topics and presents the relevant claims for each as advanced by the three theoretical approaches addressed above. Because of the practical difficulty in separating modern information processing claims from cognitive constructivism, the two perspectives appear together. The third category, cultural constructivism, emphasizes collective aspects, but

160 Teaching Adolescents Table 5.1. Comparing the major approaches to learning Knowledge Behaviourism • fixed body of knowledge to acquire • discrete elements are used as ‘building blocks’ • single sets of right answers • decontextualized content • stimulated from outside Information processing and cognitive constructivism • changing body of knowledge, individually constructed in social world • interrelated networks similar to ‘tinker toys’ • multiple viewpoints on knowledge • created in meaningful context • built on what the learner brings Cultural constructivism • socioculturally constructed knowledge • collaboratively constructed as authentic cultural product • multiple viewpoints, interpretations of knowledge and cultural requirements • occurs in meaningful cultural context • built on what participants contribute and construct together Learning Behaviourism • Acquisition of facts, skills, concepts – through drill, guided practice – within individual’s head • Surface processing (registers input), procedural display Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Active construction, restructuring prior experience – through multiple opportunities and diverse processes to connect to what is already known – in interaction with others and the local environment • Deep processing (links made to previous learning) Cultural constructivism • Collaborative construction of culturally defined knowledge and values – through culturally constructed opportunities – in interaction with others and the environment • Multiple reflections on content, procedures (how to learn), interpretations (what it means to learn, what knowledge is of value) • Construction of self and identity through authentic practice

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(Continued)

Teaching Behaviourism • Transmission • Presentation (telling) Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Challenge, guide thinking toward more complete understanding Cultural constructivism • Co-construct knowledge with students Goals Behaviourism • Complete specified work Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Continue learning • Extend understandings of world and self Cultural constructivism • Continue learning in culturally supported ways • Extend understandings of world, self, and others Motivation Behaviourism • Rewards, grades, jobs Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Self-development, competence Cultural constructivism • Self-development • Competent participation in cultural groups and activities Role of Teacher Behaviourism • Predefined as adult • Primary source of knowledge • Manager, supervisor • Encourage on-time task completion • Correct wrong answers Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Could be oneself or anyone with greater expertise • A source of knowledge (along with student, materials, environment) • Facilitator, guide • Create opportunities for interacting with meaningful ideas, materials, others • Listen for ideas, misconceptions

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(Continued)

Cultural constructivism • Could be oneself or anyone with greater expertise • A source of knowledge (along with others, materials, cultural artifacts, environment) • Facilitator, guide, co-participant • Construct with students occasions for interacting with meaningful ideas, materials, others • Co-construct different views of knowledge; listen to culturally constructed conceptions Role of Peers Behaviourism • Not usually considered Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Not necessary, but can stimulate thinking and raise questions Cultural constructivism • Ordinary part of the process of knowledge construction • Contribute to definition of knowledge (in intersubjective space of group) • Help establish opportunities for learning Role of Student Behaviourism • Passive reception of information • Worker • Active listener, direction follower • Complete work on time Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Active construction (within mind) • Source of knowledge (individual and group) • Generator, constructor • Active thinker, explainer, interpreter, questioner • Understand, question, explain Cultural constructivism • Active co-construction with others and self • Source of knowledge (group and individual within group) • Co-generator, co-constructor • Active thinker, explainer, interpreter, questioner • Active social and cultural participant • Understand, question, explain, reflect • Co-construct, interpret cultural context Student’s View of Self Behaviourism • Rememberer/forgetter, algorithm-follower, worker

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(Concluded)

Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Rememberer/forgetter, algorithm-follower • Sense-maker, problem-solver Cultural constructivism • Sense-maker, interpreter, problem-solver • Culturally appropriate member of group Signs of Learning Behaviourism • Products • Performance (answers) on worksheets, standardized tests • Assessed in single setting at one or periodic points Information processing and cognitive constructivism • Process of inquiry • Explanation of reasoning • Ongoing assessment Cultural constructivism • Process of inquiry, plus culturally competent participation in group • Explanation of reasoning, plus cultural performance assessed over multiple sites • Ongoing assessment over multiple lived situations Purpose of School Behaviourism • Transmit, reproduce accepted body of knowledge Information processing and cognitivie constructivist • Create new knowledge • Learn strategies to continue learning Cultural constructivism • Create new knowledge • Gain practice in continuing learning • Prepare individuals for life within different sociocultural worlds • Expand repertoire of culturally appropriate ways of interacting with others Source: adapted from Marshall (1992) and H.A. Smith (1996)

individual cognitive contributions are also important here. Note well that important learning occurs within each of the approaches shown here. However, it is to be hoped that most school learning will embrace the full range of human learning instead of hovering around the behavioural end of each topic. Despite theoretical advances in learning over the past

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several decades, it appears that much of what goes on in schools is still implicitly based on behavioural assumptions. Constructivist approaches to learning have yet to make a strong impact on formal schooling. The Signways of Learning In the preceding pages, the three main current approaches to human learning were summarized. Many teachers draw from all of them in some aspects of their teaching (for example, role of teacher, and signs of learning). One central question remains to be addressed: Through what channels of representation do learning (or semiosis) and understanding (or meaning) occur? Restated, what biological and cultural pathways support meaning making through signs? In chapter 1 the structure and processes of the Peircean sign were taken as fundamental to the psychosemiotic perspective adopted here. In support of Peirce’s sign, let us now turn to the various forms of representation that elsewhere have been termed signways (H.A. Smith, 2001). The primary features of the seven signways will be presented along with their roles in the secondary school. These representational modes or signways constitute the main channels of learning, meaning, or semiosis (the three terms can be seen as equivalent) for both individuals and cultures. In this account, psychosemiotics involves centrally the cognitive processes that operate within seven quasi-independent but usually well-integrated signways. Hence, the view of cognition as a unitary and general-purpose process for the acquiring and using of all forms of knowledge is rejected. Also rejected are alternative positions that restrict cognition to functions of a large number of autonomous and innately specified brain modules such as colour perception (e.g., Fodor, 1983), or that confine cognition to verbal and other contents of the single brain. Instead, cognition is seen to consist of different ways of knowing through signways that bridge the representations of both individual cognitions and the external sociocultural and environmental worlds. Because the signways connect individual and collective minds, they are also distinct from domains (cultural activities) and fields (cultural institutions) that are grounded in societies. It should be noted that the human brain has been predisposed by evolutionary processes to be differentially partial to, and structured for, different kinds of learning that aided or continue to aid the survival process (e.g., Bjorklund & Pellegrini, 2002; Mithen, 1996). The signways seek to recognize and take advantage of these specially evolved brain capabilities, which are also linked closely to emotion and context in their application.

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With one exception, the terms used to designate the signways are the same as those employed by Howard Gardner (1983, 1999) in his wellknown theory of multiple intelligences. Using most of the same terms as Gardner has the advantage of employing conventional words in a somewhat familiar context; the risk here is that those words will be interpreted in the same sense as employed by Gardner. In his theory, Gardner adopts a psychological – that is, individual-based – view by specifying eight biopsychological potentials that are available to the normal human brain. However, as a result of their operating in and with signs, the signways necessarily extend beyond the individual to link inextricably with cultural and environmental artefacts. The specific signways have been chosen because the various signs, sign systems, and attending artefacts exist in some form among all of the world’s cultures. The signways support a qualitative approach to learning rather than the abstract, quantitative view embraced by Gardner. Although conscious rational thought is always worthy of study, psychosemiotics also highlights the dynamic nonconscious and emotion-based processes of meaning making that underlie such psychological concerns as learning, motivation, and memory within the various signways. This latter set of features diverges from Gardner’s focus (see the further discussion of Gardner’s theory in chapter 6). The seven signways and their particular representational forms are as follows: linguistic, concerning all kinds of written or spoken verbal language; musical, involving the conventions, sounds, rhythms, and skills of music; logical-mathematical, concerning linear and sequential knowledge and operations; spatial, referring to visual-spatial arrays; bodily-kinesthetic, involving use of the body and its parts; social-personal, concerning the signs of knowing about others and oneself, and naturalistic, involving the recognition of patterns in the natural and cultural worlds and the classification of objects and events. In this listing, the social-personal signway eliminates Gardner’s distinction between intrapersonal and interpersonal factors; at the same time, it highlights the sociocultural bases of signs. A brief description of each signway is presented next. The Linguistic Signway It is perhaps fitting to begin with the signway that supports linguistic capability, which is usually specified as the factor that most clearly distinguishes humans from non-humans. Perhaps for this reason, language in all of its manifestations has also drawn the most sustained attention from educators as well as from academics in general. Two prevailing

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Which signways are involved in designing a bikecar?

beliefs are held by scholars in language and linguistics. The first is that linguistics is equivalent to, or a supercategory of, semiotics. The second is that the rules, structure, and use of language should serve as the model for all other sign domains and systems. For example, de Saussure’s theory is often singled out as the prime example of the latter conviction. On the other hand, important thinkers such as Charles Peirce have emphasized the full breadth of semiotics and the numerous and ancient non-linguistic forms of semiosis (Lock & Peters, 1999). In this latter view – which is the one accepted here – the linguistic signway is only one of seven representational modes within psychosemiotics, albeit an important mode. The classical approach to studying language has been to treat it as a formal, structured system comprising a specified set of algorithmic rules. In this way, language has been viewed throughout history as a cold, bloodless, and essentially rational creation. Scholars subscribed to classical notions of language by presuming that meaning resulted from predetermined semiotic links among basic linguistic units. These people believed that expressed language provided a reliable and neutral entry into the cognitive systems of individuals. Increasingly, however,

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scholars have turned their attention to language function in context. In this view, language is not only a formal means of expressing ideas but also a way to communicate emotions, wishes, and desires and, especially, to get things done. For example, ‘Let’s go’ could mean ‘I’ve been at your parents’ house long enough,’ or ‘Hurry up or we’ll miss the bus,’ or ‘Win, team, win,’ or ‘Let’s find a more private place.’ The meaning of this simple utterance is dependent on who says the words for what reasons in what circumstances. The Russian literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin (1981) was foremost among those who espoused this alternative view of linguistic function. In his writings, Bakhtin refused to acknowledge the separation of self from others or any free-standing form of language. More contemporary works by, for example, Johnson (1987) and Lakoff (1987) are also consistent with the Peircean view, in that they support moving away from formalized systems of language. According to Lakoff, lexical categorization does not depend on any objective and logical set of criteria; rather, it is tied centrally to cultural experience. In Lakoff’s view, sets of experience produce knowledge that is organized not by abstract categories but by idealized cognitive models created within the mind of the individual. Furthermore, these models are linked to the human sensory systems. In this way, concepts emerge from experiential linguistic contexts rather than from abstract general structures. Both language and thought become extensions of the human sensory system. The embodiment of language can be seen in utterances (in the Bakhtinian sense) and in gestures linked to body rhythms (e.g., Kendon, 1981). This post-structuralist approach to understanding language in its situated and embodied form emphasizes that we can understand nothing – even in linguistic form – with which we have had no experience. However, as a further step, this experience may become culturally diffused and thus more generalized if some cultural needs are being satisfied. This process of cultural diffusion results in the experience becoming more remote from the senses and increasingly abstract in nature. To close this section, countless aspects of the linguistic signway remain to be explored, such as metaphor, gossip, discourse analysis, paralanguage, poetics, writing, reading, and linguistic narrative. For teachers, a key point is that despite the heavy emphasis on language in formal education, much remains to be learned about language as a living and growing cultural sign system. In practical use, language is a highly flexible system of signs driven by transient contextual demands.

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The Musical Signway Interest in music and music theory is at least two thousand years old. However, the association of music with semiotics is relatively recent, apparently stimulated by Roman Jakobson’s essays from the 1930s that linked musicology with linguistics (Hatten, 1998; Nöth, 1990). Both semioticians and educators working in the tradition of structural linguistics, in particular, were soon attracted by the many similarities between language and music. Nöth (1990) summarized the main points of correspondence as follows: ‘A first common feature of language and music is their linear and acoustic manifestation ... both language and music are cultural systems of arbitrary, recurrent, and structured sounds ... both systems make differential use of acoustic phenomena such as pitch, duration, quality, and intensity of sounds ... music, like language, proves to be a semiotic system of values’ (1990, 433). Over the past forty years, several structural theories have been developed that embrace music as a formal system of signs based on these linguistic parallels. An important alternative approach, post-structuralist in nature, emphasizes the unique aspects of musical meaning. Both main strategies to understanding music will be summarized below. First, though, two attributes highlighted by the musical signway will be addressed: time and (for post-structural semiotics) emotion. Even more obviously than language, music is connected to the general themes of time and sequence. Thus, music is able to shape time and to otherwise manipulate the temporal qualities of sound (Epstein, 1995; Hatten, 1998). Just as with language, this manipulation includes the element of silence. The uses of time and temporal sound patterns in music are tied closely to expressive significance. Expressivity is often accepted as a central attribute of emotion, which was linked many years ago to music and symbolism by Langer (1957). Langer argued that music is the logical expression of feelings and thus an implicit symbolic form. Emotion is associated with the Firstness of the sign as enunciated by Peirce, although most structuralist accounts of music avoid the topic of emotion entirely. According to van Leeuwen (1998), the formal tradition in the semiotics of music began in the 1960s with French structuralism. The structural approach to music seeks to establish the formal associations that exist among basic musical units. Here, each musical element such as a note is understood only in the context of the musical system – that is, in terms of its position within the system and its relationship with other elements. Most structural theories in musical semiotics have appropriated

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the harmonic system of European tonal-functional music as the elemental system underlying musical structure (van Leeuwen, 1998). The resulting semiotic inquiry consists of analysing units that can be notated, such as rhythmic pattern, dynamic level, melodic contour, harmonic movement, texture, and timbre (Henrotte, 1992). In this view, musical comprehension is independent of extramusical context and relies almost exclusively on derived syntactic rules. Stated more bluntly, music is assumed to have no meaning outside this system of acoustic elements. Individuals closely associated with attempts to establish a formal, logical system of musical signs include Nicolas Ruwet, Jean-Jacques Nattiez, and Ray Jackendoff. An important underlying assumption in many structuralist theories in music is that the resulting models have universal application. Indeed, research suggests that some universal aspects do exist – for example, it has been found that music is embodied (e.g., Dissanayake, 1992) and that humans are innately sensitive to particular forms and structures. For example, the fundamental beat structure, the hierarchy of the tonal order, and the centrality of the octave appear to be widespread among the world’s cultures. Furthermore, most musical systems include an interval that matches the Western perfect fifth (Sloboda, 1985). Yet, different cultures also show substantial variations in musical structure, attitudes towards music, and formal systems of musical notation. For example, there is a difference between North Indian and Western music in how pitches are represented. Rhythmic style provides a further illustration of cultural difference. Accordingly, the post-structuralist stance is to try to understand music as much more of a culturally and contextually based system of meaning making. For example, a note that is taken as a single sound is conceived differently in different cultures. Thus, the Gamaka note of Indian classical music seems like several notes to Westerners. Western scholars associated with efforts to emphasize meaning in music include Roland Barthes, Eero Tarasti, David Lidov, Robert Hatten, and Manfred Clynes. Of the three signways associated with time and sequence (the others are the linguistic and the logical-mathematical), the musical signway is the one that has received the least formal support in education among modern Western cultures. One can speculate on why this is so. One reason might stem from music’s close links with the body – a highly suspect entity since the time of Descartes. However, precisely because of its embodied nature, music is a highly significant signway for both personal and cultural development. In his comprehensive review, Hatten (1998)

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contends that one area of immense potential for development in musical semiotics is the intersection of music as a performed or embodied gesture and music as abstract patterning. He argues that ‘music can be a unique laboratory for studying ways in which meaning arises from the synthesis of bodily and mental processing’ (1998, 80). A second reason for downplaying the musical signway may be the standard emphasis on individual rather than collective achievements in social institutions such as schools, along with a reliance on written tests of learning. This focus has made it difficult to determine the adaptive value of music. However, if evolution is linked to adaptation of the gene pool, then music is more important to social groups than it is to individuals. Singing and making music promote group cohesion, and music serves as a sign of cultural identity. For cultural purposes, music plays a variety of social roles: chants serve religious functions, waltzes enable social release, Musak is used to help sell commercial goods, marches help display military strength, and opera and other kinds of music designate social class (Lidov, 1986). However, as a result of advances over the past two decades from static musical structures to attending processes and meanings, music will continue to draw substantial interest from semioticians and, we can hope, enhanced attention in schools as well. The Logical-Mathematical Signway The logical-mathematical signway has assumed an elevated profile in contemporary Western cultures by virtue of the emphasis placed on certain forms of logical and mathematical thinking that pervade formal education and many other fields. In school, for example, a key element of formal mathematics – arithmetic – is one of the so-called basic three R’s. Also, a modern society’s success in schooling is measured in large part by the paper-and-pencil performance of its children and adolescents on international achievement tests in mathematics (e.g., Beaton et al., 1996). However, one dictum is as true for mathematics as it is for any other domain: the nature of the operating sign depends heavily on experience within the particular cultural context. Accordingly, in the present analysis, close attention will be paid to logical and mathematical thought in specific situations. Although it is often difficult in practice to distinguish between logical and mathematical operations, some attention will be paid here to characteristics that can be considered mainly logical. The classical view of

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human logic has been presented by scholars such as Gottlob Frege (1848–1925), Bertrand Russell (1872–1970), and Jean Piaget (1896– 1980). Frege developed a symbolic logic based on a few principles of abstract human reasoning that introduced the modern view of quantification (Pelham, 1998). Through his logic, Frege attempted to prove that the foundation of arithmetic rested on a few principles. He eventually abandoned this effort. Russell is associated with his work on a logic of formal propositions, which he took to be signs of an external reality. Finally, as reflected by his experimental tasks in psychology, Piaget believed that human reasoning is derived from principles of formal logic. However, Peirce’s work (see Marcus, 1998) – especially as it relates to abduction (the first stage of problem solving, as outlined in chapter 6) – and research since the mid-1960s, tell us that the classical view of logical reasoning is out of step with natural practice. In fact, human reasoning is linked closely to real-world events and to the demands of specific contexts. In tests of reasoning, human problem solvers often fail on abstract tasks that require them to apply formal logic. The question then becomes: Are we humans simply poor at rational thought, or do we reason in ways that differ from classical logic in order to enhance our abilities for survival in our everyday worlds? The flouting of the formal principles of rational thought is evident in various human interactions – for example, when it is assumed that people with certain characteristics will also exhibit other particular characteristics. Thus, people tend to rank the statement ‘Mike is a bank manager and drives a late model car’ as more probable than ‘Mike is a bank manager.’ Any rational account would assert that the probability of a single event is always greater than the probability of two independent events. Yet because of our particular cultural knowledge, many of us assume that a bank manager is more likely than, say, a university professor to wear a suit to work and to drive a late-model car. The point here is that in life, the laws of probability are often pushed aside by the principle of representativeness (Tversky & Kahneman, 1983). To turn now to mathematics, just as infants display some functional forms of reasoning from birth, so do they manifest an innate knowledge of number. They are able to display awareness of counting and to prefer slides that show the number of household objects matching the number of drumbeats they are hearing to slides that do not. Infants are also able to assign one tag for each item in a display and to let the final tag represent the value of the set (Gelman & Brenneman, 1994). Clearly, then, infants are able to respond to signs appropriately even though their

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knowledge is not apt to be in any symbolic form at this early stage. Indeed, it appears that infants’ initial number representations have a qualitatively different structure from that of our counting system, although their abilities with number concepts do not have to be explained by higher-order levels of abstraction of the kind proposed by Piaget (Wynn, 1992). Not do we have to accept the Platonist view that mathematics involves specifying real but abstract entities such as sets, which must then be designated by mathematical signifiers such as count-nouns (Mortensen & Roberts, 1997). From early in life, children are aware of the positive integer with its two central principles of one-to-one correspondence and succession, in which every number has a distinct successor (Carey & Spelke, 1994). Early in their school years, children acquire more formal notions of zero, infinity, and the rational number. Later, they learn to dissociate number from counting and to abandon the successor principle. They also acquire new understandings of various arithmetic operations, such as division, that constitute the beginning of mathematics as a human creation. These early abilities of children in mathematics suggest that, whatever the claims of classical logicians, mathematics does not consist of freestanding truths that are independent of human existence. Rather, mathematics is closely linked to human capabilities and, by extension, to cultural resolutions. In this view, the bases of mathematics are to be found in the cultural practices in which mathematical activities are embedded (Rotman, 1987; Stigler & Baranes, 1988). The earliest numbering systems were linked closely to human bodily attributes, such as our ten fingers and toes – we see this, for example, in young children who are grappling with the need to count. However, with the growing social need for numbers of ever-increasing size, this type of iconic embodiment eventually proved inadequate. As a result, modern cultures moved towards a formal syntactic and semantic system of signs that are purely arbitrary in their elementary characteristics (Posner, 1996). To summarize, two important points stand out. First, more modern trends away from embodied number systems for societies have been accompanied by movements away from experience-based measurement systems as well. For example, the system of imperial measures founded on embodied notions such as the foot and the inch have generally been replaced by the metric system. Second, many studies have shown that when understanding and applying mathematics, students often do not approach formal school tasks in the same way as they approach practical

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activities outside school (see Saxe, 1988; Schliemann & Carraher, 1993; Stigler & Baranes, 1988). This tells us that, as is the case with reasoning, abstract mathematical calculations may not be the best way to solve everyday problems. Such results support the claim that for many individuals, meaning making in mathematics is similar to meaning making in the other signways by virtue of its context dependence. Teachers of mathematics, then, should try whenever possible to relate their instruction and examples to the everyday lives of their students. The Spatial Signway Learning and meaning in the spatial signway are achieved through such means as integrating visual percepts, reading maps, recognizing people, and navigating through space. The semiotic objects of this signway include paintings, maps, photographs, movies, architecture, and physical features of the environment. The spatial signway involves sensory signs that are usually visual in nature, although not exclusively so, as spatial awareness is also available to hearing and touching. Gibson (1966) goes even further by suggesting that space is amodal in that each of the senses can provide information about spatial arrangements. The resulting affordances impart meaning to the perceiver. One feature of Gibson’s theory is that affordances may be represented by artificial sources such as drawings and photographs that do not actually contain the affordance registered. As examples, a banana in a photograph does not provide sustenance, and watching a film taken by a free-falling skydiver does not afford danger. Aspects of the spatial signway will be summarized under two main themes: the static object and the mobile object, where the object designates one apex of the Peircean sign (see chapter 1). Very young children begin their acquaintance with static representations through the embodied activity of scribbling. These early actions express the Firstness of feeling as reflected by the delight of self-generated motion and by the initiation to semiosis through two-dimensional representations in the spatial signway. As an early sign, scribbling represents only itself through its links to embodiment. As an activity, scribbling is uncontrolled and unplanned. However, around age three, children reach Secondness through the realization that their lines can represent material objects of their physical environment. With further experience, children reach Thirdness by depicting objects in a routinized stereotypic form, directed at least in part by adults who value some configurations over others.

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The static object is seen in pictographs, maps, architectural drawings, cartoons, and comics. However, the most familiar static form within the spatial signway may be the picture, which has existed universally in one form or another since the beginning of human history. Pictures resemble in appearance what they claim to portray, yet they still lack a generally acceptable semiotic definition (Sonesson, 1998). One form closely related to pictures is photography, which has been subject to ongoing debate about its status as a semiotic object, with most discussion revolving around whether a photograph is a Peircean icon or index. Peirce believed that photographs are both icons and indexes: on the one hand, photographs are exactly like the objects represented (that is, icons); on the other, they exhibit a physical connection with their objects by virtue of a point-by-point correspondence with nature (that is, they are indexes). In passing, note that metaphors may be represented in most of the signways, including the spatial (e.g., Johns, 1984; Kennedy, 1982, 1999). Although metaphor is usually understood as a linguistic entity, the linking of metaphor with visual images is at least a century old and is more common than we may realize. In the spatial signway, just as with language, the essential ingredients of a metaphor are a concrete entity and an abstract concept to which it is linked. To turn to the mobile object, psychological research has shown that the human ability to make meaning of motion in the spatial signway begins early and naturally. Indeed, the motion of objects in space may be the foundation of spatial meaning (Gibson, 1979). We are also able to comprehend motion in various two-dimensional manifestations such as film, computer images, television, and videotape. For example, early semiotic analyses of film extend back many years, perhaps highlighted by Eisenstein’s theory of montage, which showed how the juxtaposition of images or sequences produces meanings that go beyond the sum of the individual elements. The semiotic era in film is considered to have begun in 1964, when Metz proposed that film be approached on a linguistic basis (Müller, 1998). The subsequent phase (1975–80) was also dominated by Metz (1981), who linked film analysis with the psychoanalytic principles of Sigmund Freud and Jacques Lacan. Since Metz, other perspectives have gradually made their presence felt in film semiotics. For example, both narratology, which considers the dynamics of narrative structure (see Stam, Burgoyne & Flitterman-Lewis, 1992), and feminism, which looks at often-implicit gender and other social issues (e.g., Apusigah, Luce-Kapler & Smith, 2002; Mulvey, 1990), are making contributions to the area. Typical research strategies are to

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analyse the various codes within a given film text or a particular code across a body of films. A film can be examined from the perspective of its text, or of its influence on the viewer, or of these two in combination. However, our everyday lived environments provide the most sustained use of the spatial signway, whether this involves playing field sports, driving a car through rush-hour traffic, or manoeuvring through crowds of Saturday afternoon shoppers at the local mall. Indeed, we rely constantly on spatial information to provide us with configurations, from which we are then able to draw meaning and thereby continue developing the relevant signs. Although visual spatiality has been emphasized in this account, spatial information is available to all five senses, although much more research is needed to uncover the spatial understandings derived from the other sensory modalities. The message for teachers is clear: because the spatial signway is a powerful but often underused channel of representation in schools, it deserves increased attention from instructional managers. The Bodily-Kinesthetic Signway The bodily-kinesthetic signway is concerned with signs and meanings derived from all kinds of human body movements. Because this signway is grounded in corporeality, semioticians interested in structuralist models based on abstract linguistics were slow to embrace the essences of embodiment that are linked closely to motion and emotion. The possible exception was the study of gesture, which likely received enhanced attention because of its close association with speech and because it could be subjected, at least in part, to linguistic analysis. However, because humans navigate continuously through their life worlds, inquiry into bodily signs is essential if we are to understand better how we survive in our given environments and cultures. Most cultures have developed standardized and ritualized meanings for particular forms of body movement, such as those for sports, drama, and dance; all are important to this signway but will not be addressed further in this chapter. Most semiosis within the bodily-kinesthetic signway results from daily use of the body while moving from place to place, engaging in cultural activities, and relating to other people. As the largest human sense organ, the haptic (or touching) system is an undervalued one for many modern cultural activities. Yet we use it constantly to support or confirm meanings in our environment. The various bodily receptors include skin sensors for such matters as movement, posture, pain, heat, and pressure that permit us to make sense of

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ongoing events. In this regard, Gibson (1966) proposed that the essential information provided by touching movements came from the tactile posture of the fingers and thumb. In particular, we use haptics in our relationships with other people through such actions as hand shaking, hugging, kissing, and guiding. The extent and power of these haptic capabilities become especially obvious when individuals are deprived of other senses such as sight. In his work with blind people, Kennedy (1993) found that congenitally blind adults possess a coherent sense of space owing primarily to their ability to make meaning from touch. From the perspective of semiotic understanding in the bodily-kinesthetic signway, kinesics (or ‘body language’) may offer the primary locus of interest within non-verbal communication (see chapter 2). People employ their bodies in detailed and meaningful ways, and many of their actions are quite deliberate. For instance, in our daily living we often communicate in the embodied form known as dactylology, which is the art of relaying ideas with the fingers. Relevant examples include Winston Churchill’s famous ‘V’ and the Roman ‘thumbs up.’ The latter carries contemporary meanings such as the English-language ‘A-OK!’ and the Brazilian Portuguese ‘Positivo!’ One arena that highlights kinesics is acting, including mime, whether the action takes place on stage, in the movies, or on television (McAuley, 1998). Although the facial behaviour of actors tends to be the primary focus of audience attention, their postures and gestures are also featured prominently. However, because gestures are perceived as being under substantial conscious control, Winson (1985) suggests that postures should be examined instead in order to understand a person’s more basic and usually unconscious emotional expression, especially off the stage in everyday life. In this argument, postures arise from deep feelings while gestures are communicational devices that can be used in addition to or instead of words. Of course, cultural variations are important in understanding posture. For example, Japanese who bow tend to be fulfilling a cultural ritual rather than professing great humility to those to whom they are bowing. Thus one important arena for both students’ learning and teachers’ sign reading is students’ body use, especially the postures and gestures being displayed (see the relevant discussion in chapters 2 and 3). The Social-Personal Signway The social-personal signway is characterized by an early intersubjectivity (that is, ability and desire for interpersonal communication) that under-

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lines the essential sociocultural nature of the human species. This intersubjectivity takes on an increasingly sophisticated form that leads directly into personal elements and the affiliated evolving sense of self and identity (e.g., Brothers, 1997; Butterworth, 1995; Trevarthen, 1990). From the abundant research on the intersubjectivity of infants, Muller (1996, 21) proposed a number of claims, including the following: • The mother–infant interaction is governed by an exchange of cues structured by a code. • This code has the essential features of a semiotic code insofar as it specifies cues as signs, indicates their legitimate substitution and combination, and organizes the pragmatics of turn taking for the positions of sender and receiver of these cues. • The infant’s role as semiotic partner affects the mother’s semiotic behaviour. • The mother’s violation of the semiotic code is disruptive to the infant – an indication that the infant has learned the basic rudiments of the code. Inevitably, many of us are unable to perform well in the signs of one or another of the signways. Most of the time our relative inadequacies go unnoticed – unless we have difficulty functioning in the social-personal signway. These remarkable inter- and intra-personal capabilities are usually taken for granted even though some people – especially those deemed to have autism (see chapter 7) – find it extremely difficult to make and use representations in this signway. Children with autism display deficits on typical standardized measures of interactional ability and self-concept development. Typically, these assessed deficits are interpreted from a standard cognitive perspective involving theory-of-mind concepts (e.g., Baron-Cohen, 1995; Happé & Frith, 1995), although other explanations have also been offered (see Hobson, 1993; Loveland, 1993). In the process of becoming competent in social-personal signs from infancy through to adulthood, one’s personal side gradually becomes more developed and integrated with the signs of the surrounding culture (see Barth, 1997; Shweder & Bourne, 1984). Personal development – that is, the process of becoming who one is in a given cultural context – has been described by many psychologists. However, several scholars, including Colapietro (1989), Muller (1996), and Wiley (1994), have also addressed the self from a semiotic perspective. For example, Wiley has combined some important ideas of Charles Peirce and George Herbert

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Mead in his efforts to establish the existence of an autonomous ‘semiotic self.’ Depending on the researcher’s preference, any one of a number of possible theoretical frameworks might be used to explain the structures and processes of the personal self. In any examination of the social-personal signway, cultural components of the developing personal self must be acknowledged as explicitly as they are for the other signways. Tomasello (1993, 182) has offered a step in this direction: ‘Human cognition, including cognition of the self, is in large measure a social enterprise ... Accounts that ignore the social dimension of human cognition and focus only on information processing will not only distort many facts about human cognition but also will be incapable of explaining even the most rudimentary phenomena of human self-understanding.’ Because of their sustained and ongoing relationships with students, teachers should be particularly aware of the importance of the socialpersonal signway in their professional lives. Together in the school, teachers and students are constantly negotiating classroom culture and establishing facets of their respective identities. In this way, cognition, learning, and semiosis are sociocultural rather than strictly individual phenomena. The Naturalistic Signway The naturalistic signway involves the classification of physical objects and events, and the recognition of patterns, in one’s lived world. This signway differs from the social-personal signway in that it establishes meanings from functional categories and from patterns generated by environmental phenomena rather than from dialogical exchanges with other people. These categories are constructed from a wide variety of signs, including cultural artefacts, such as clothes and cars, as well as from rituals, such as shopping and ordering food in restaurants. The naturalistic signway relates to one’s capacity to distinguish among objects and to discern patterns in both natural and cultural phenomena. For example, those who are expert at fishing, farming, gardening, and cooking reflect high levels of competence in this signway. Sometimes competence can be shared or taught, as is the case with biological taxonomies or dance notations. At other times, competence resides within the individual and can only be learned through experience. Two elements of this competence – categorization and patterning, are considered next.

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Tips for Teachers On Specifying Your Approach to Learning 1 Try to determine the view of learning that is most congenial to you. To this end, use table 5.1 and critically examine your own beliefs. 2 Given your view of learning, think about the various exhibits or displays that you would interpret as signs of learning. Which of these displays would not be possible or permitted in the standard classroom? 3 Which signway(s) do you prefer to use in making meaning? How might your preference(s) affect your teaching and curricular decision making? 4 Be aware that some students may prefer other signways than yours and thus understand the world differently from you.

To begin with categorization, this capability may have evolved from survival pressures based in biology. Today, however, relevant processes apply equally well to cultural phenomena; there is no evidence that the resulting categories must be transferred from the biological to the cultural sphere (Hirschfeld, 1994). Hence, the ability to categorize and classify is now as much a hallmark of competence and survival in culture as it is in nature. A great deal of modern schooling focuses on the categorization of facts and ideas, some of which are general and abstract but many more of which are specific and tangible. Prior concepts support the development of classifications, which in turn foster and shape broader belief systems (Keil, 1994). Patterns, which in everyday life are often associated with dynamic situations, appear in most natural and cultural phenomena. The rhythm of the seasons is an example of the former; marriage ceremonies are an example of the latter. Patterns are reflected in most of the scripts devised to permit people to behave appropriately in social arenas. For example, in North America and increasingly around the world, people dine regularly in fast food outlets whose outstanding icon is the stylized ‘M,’ the ‘Golden Arches,’ of the McDonald’s chain of restaurants (see Manning & Cullum-Swan, 1994; Sneddon, McDougall & Moskal Fysh, 1994).

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McDonald’s is a semiotic delight for its assorted advertising blitzes, gimmicks, colours, menu arrangements, and routines. Its patterns have been learned by all patrons, who are able to function at McDonald’s restaurants in approved fashion. Similar patterns can be specified for functioning competently in social institutions such as courthouses, banks, churches, hospitals, and schools, as well as at social gatherings of all kinds. Regarding the latter, books and general advice on such matters as etiquette have long been popular among particular social circles. Some school subjects, such as mathematics, are replete with patterns even though most students never quite grasp that fact. As is the case with the other signways, some individuals display great ability in mastering knowledge and performance of the naturalistic signway. This ability extends to both cultural and natural patterns, although the former aspect is emphasized here. In summary, this chapter has offered two main strands for understanding the foundations of human learning. The first strand presents three commonly accepted approaches to learning (behaviourism, cognitive constructivism, and cultural constructivism), with an emphasis on the third perspective, which takes learning to be mediated, embodied, situated in context, and distributed over tools and other people. The second addresses seven representational signways that link brain, mind, and culture and through which we make meaning. The challenge for secondary school teachers is to enable the exercise of the school’s lessvalued signways, for many students learn best in modes that are out of reach of linguistic and logical-mathematical capabilities. This theme will be pursued at greater length in chapters 6 and 7. Selected Reading Cole, M., Engeström, Y., & Vasquez, O. (Eds.). (1997). Mind, culture, and activity: Seminal papers from the Laboratory of Comparative Human Cognition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. For the inquiring teacher, a collection of classic papers on context, mind, activity, and behaviour in classrooms. A fine blend of theory and experimental data. Marshall, H.H. (Ed.). (1992). Redefining student learning: Roots of educational change. Norwood, NJ: Ablex. Marshall and the other authors in this edited book provide numerous examples of secondary school teachers negotiating with adolescents about the meaning of learning in particular classrooms.

Signs of Learning 181 Rogoff, B., & Lave, J. (Eds.) (1984). Everyday cognition: Its development in social context. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. A classic for its treatment of learning as a social and situationally based activity. Chapters by Scribner and by Lave and colleagues are especially noteworthy. Smith, H.A. (2001). Psychosemiotics. New York: Peter Lang. This book describes in some detail the seven signways through which we make representations and derive meanings from cultural phenomena. The bases of the signways in biology and culture are summarized. Sternberg, R.J., & Williams, W.M. (2002). Educational psychology. Boston: Allyn & Bacon. A standard educational psychology textbook that offers an orthodox view of learning theories and their applications in school. A number of helpful examples and teaching suggestions are included. Wiske, M.S. (Ed.) (1998). Teaching for understanding: Linking research with practice. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. This edited book contains eleven chapters by various authors associated with the Harvard Graduate School of Education. The contents touch on many aspects of learning and cognition as outlined in this chapter, with a focus on understanding or meaning.

6 Teaching as a Semiotic Venture

SHANNON Shannon [sixteen years old] offered her most affective response in our conversation to my question about functions of phone use. s:

The phone? It lets me express my feelings. Learn about myself. It’s comforting to talk to your friends ... find out what’s going on in the world. I don’t know. Help people out.

Movies, video, and video games held a similar value in her world. s:

It’s relaxing. It’s something to go out and do with your friends. Fun. It’s enjoyable. Sometimes it’s actually educational, surprisingly.

me: What if you turned this whole thing on its head and in school you did movies, magazines, and phone? You didn’t do this other stuff (texts, etc)? We said we’re revolutionizing the curriculum! s:

I would enjoy school a whole lot more. I mean some of the teachers try to make it more interesting and involve it more in your life. Some of them just don’t do it. From Bean, Bean & Bean (1999, 442)


Signs in the Classroom In chapter 5, we examined the conceptual bases of learning and their major representational forms. This chapter will focus on classroom applications as well as the implications of adopting particular stances about the nature of learning, and of attending to relevant signs. Several topics

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viewed as central to teaching will be considered in this light: notions of multiple literacies and intelligence(s); transmediation, or representation of the ‘same’ content in different forms; problem solving and logical inference; surprise and experience in education; motivation; emotion; and memory. Finally, some general principles of teaching will be presented. Throughout the chapter, the key message will be that learning and its signs can assume many forms, some of which are not particularly well suited to the structure and function of most classrooms. However, teachers and other instructional managers would be wrong to ignore these latter ways through which adolescents come to know and place themselves in their surrounding worlds. As underscored in the opening vignette, no one fixed curriculum will automatically satisfy every adolescent’s needs and interests. Multiple Literacies and Intelligence(s) multiple literacies The verbocentric nature of Western schools has resulted in narrow views of learning, literacy, and intelligence that are based almost solely on written language and that tend to reward only those students who are good at this kind of learning. However, especially over the past twenty years, educators concerned with the greater welfare of larger numbers of students have called for a reassessment of this situation. They realize that emphasizing only one human ability leads to non-democratic classrooms in which elite groups of students will always do well and significant numbers of students will never reach or even discover their full potentials. This realization has prompted new definitions of literacy as well as alternative conceptions of intelligence. To begin with literacy, the traditional view has focused on word use and comprehension, and as a result, ‘literacy pedagogy ... has been a carefully restricted project – restricted to formalized, monolingual, monocultural, and rule-governed forms of language’ (New London Group, 1996, 61). Tests of ‘reading,’ especially in the early grades, have often consisted of little more than decoding exercises, with little regard for the critical step up to meaning – that is, how words make sense in given contexts. For example, consider the following sentences: The nomad decided to desert his dessert in the desert. Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present. The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

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Simple decoding by itself is insufficient to yield an understanding of these sentences. Furthermore, because most words (for example, ‘bar’) have many uses, the situational context becomes critical for meaning to happen. As the word becomes a sign only when it is understood in its proper context, the traditional narrow view of literacy offers little help to educators. The perspective promoted a generation ago by Scribner and Cole (1981, 136) is consistent with expanded definitions of literacy: ‘Literacy is not simply knowing how to read and write a particular script, but applying this knowledge for specific purposes in specific contexts of use. The nature of these practices, including of course their technological aspects, will determine the kinds of skills (consequences) associated with literacy.’ Language arts teachers have been instrumental in calling for an expanded view of literacy that goes beyond written verbal language (e.g., Bean, Bean & Bean, 1999; Berghoff, 1998; Leland & Harste, 1994). For example, Leland and Harste (1994, 339) pointed out that ‘our new concept of literacy involves the flexible use of multiple sign systems.’ These teachers realized that students today must be competent, or literate, in several representational systems – the visual, the mathematical, the spatial, and so on. In other words, students should become literate in the domains addressed by the different signways (see chapter 5). Certainly, the students are encountering the full range of sign systems outside school. In attending to the need for some new terminology, the New London Group (1996) has suggested that mere literacy be used for language-only literacy and that the term multiliteracies be used for the reality of plural literacies. Because the educational literature refers to multiple sign systems (Berghoff, 1998) and multiple ways of knowing (Leland & Harste, 1994), the term multiple literacies will be adopted here to refer to competencies in the different signways. Of course, multiple literacies exist in all school subjects, not just language arts. Mathematics and physics teachers, for example, should be just as concerned as teachers in any other subject area about the need for their students to become competent in several sign systems, especially when literacy is viewed as sociocultural practice (for example, revisit the three sentences above) rather than simply a cognitive process (e.g., Bean, Bean & Bean 1999; Lankshear, 1997). In this way, learning and mind are situated, embodied, and sociocultural such that knowledge and understanding are not general and abstract in the first instance, but rather are derived from sociocultural activities and experiences (e.g., New London Group, 1996). Every high school classroom,

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then, should offer a variety of culturally relevant activities that include such representational forms as drawing, discussion, writing, music, and bodily engagement. intelligence Ability in the multiple literacies, or competence in the various signways, has important implications for the hypothetical construct of intelligence and for the signs that teachers employ when ascribing more or less intelligence to others. Since the beginning of schooling – indeed, since the beginning of human learning – it has been observed that learners differ from one another. For example, some people learn some things quickly whereas others learn the same things more slowly; some are very successful at learning certain things, but not so successful at learning certain other things. Our society is quick to pass judgments on differing levels of performance by saying that people are more, or less, ‘intelligent.’ But where did this concept come from? In the early 1900s the psychologist Alfred Binet was asked by the French government to design a test that would predict students’ success in school. Binet used a psychometric approach to develop his test, which became known as an intelligence test that yielded an intelligence quotient (IQ). He observed students at each age level to see how well they performed in the rather narrow range of school tasks. He then turned these tasks into test items. Students who could do all the tasks appropriate to their age but not those above were considered to possess average intelligence (that is, an IQ of about 100 as adjusted statistically). Clearly, then, intelligence was defined originally simply as the ability to succeed in school, and the goal of the original test was simply to predict school performance. So it should not surprise us that, generally, there is a relationship between scores on the current refined versions of Binet’s intelligence test (such as Wechsler’s tests of intelligence and the Stanford-Binet) and success in school. According to Mayer (1987), correlations between these measures of general cognitive ability or intelligence and the amount learned at different levels of schooling are for elementary school between 0.6 and 0.7, for high school between 0.5 and 0.6, and for ‘college’ between 0.4 and 0.5. The decreasing correlations between IQ and age may reflect the influence of increasing experience with out-of-school tasks and may indicate that IQ measures are not as reliable as often presumed. Some key assumptions built into IQ test construction have caused educators and some psychologists to question the relevance of these

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tests for student learning. For example, the test assumes that the cognitive abilities being measured represent the cognitive abilities required for learning in western schools and, therefore, are important. However, tasks such as recognizing complete pictures, solving mazes, and copying block designs may well be neither representative nor important. They may also be far from what we mean when we say that someone is intelligent, especially when non-school tasks and other cultures are involved. Also, the tests assess only a part of students’ knowledge and then try to claim that the students who now possess the most knowledge will also acquire the most knowledge in future. The limited perspective of IQ tests, together with the substantial consequences attached to doing very well or very poorly on them, has caused concern for many years. A great deal of discussion has taken place in many venues about the inappropriate use of intelligence tests with, for example, black, Aboriginal, and Inuit students, recent immigrants, and students with atypical learning profiles. Many educators and psychologists have argued that we would serve everyone much better by recognizing accomplishments within, and providing learning opportunities for, all of our abilities. This may mean using well-constructed tests of knowledge in specific domains, or assessing products created by the learners, or developing tests based on recent models of cognition instead of relying on psychometric techniques (see Mayer, 1987; Sternberg, 1988). In the meantime, educators should make very few claims about the relationship between intelligence as it is currently assessed and learning. multiple intelligences An alternative conception of intelligence that has generated a great deal of interest and enthusiasm in educational circles since its introduction in 1983 is Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences. Gardner opened his argument with a list of the major drawbacks to the standard test of intelligence: • It has only modest predictive power regarding success in school, and none regarding success in life. • It is blindly empirical through not being based on any theory of how the mind works. • The tasks it features are microscopic and often unrelated to one another, and represent a shotgun approach to assessing human intellect. • Most of its tasks are remote from everyday life and rely heavily on language and one’s skill in defining words.

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• It tests information available only to those living in a specific cultural, social, and educational milieu. • It rarely assesses skill in assimilating new information or in solving new problems. • It says little about one’s potential for future growth. In his now famous book, and in a later formulation, Gardner (1983, 1999) proposed a theory of multiple intelligences. He argued that we possess at least eight main clusters of interconnected abilities, although only two of them (language and logic) are ever paid serious attention in schools. In his writings, he calls for formal recognition of the other six. Below is a summary of Gardner’s current array of multiple intelligences: 1 Linguistic. Characterized by a high dependence on abstract symbols used in reading, writing, understanding speech, and producing speech; exemplars are poets and writers. 2 Musical. The ability to use the pitch, rhythm, and timbre of music; exemplars are composers and performers. 3 Logical-mathematical. The ability to think logically and to theorize about patterns of all kinds; exemplars are mathematicians. 4 Spatial. The ability to locate oneself in, and to use, space in its various forms; exemplars are artists, architects, and many engineers. 5 Bodily-kinesthetic. The ability to use, and a high sensitivity to, elements of the body; exemplars are dancers, athletes, and many craftspeople. 6 Intrapersonal. The ability to display a ‘sense of self,’ including knowledge of one’s own abilities and motivations; an exemplar is anyone with a keen sense of personal awareness. 7 Interpersonal. Marked by great sensitivity to the needs and motivations of others; exemplars are those with a high sense of collective morality and some politicians. 8 Naturalistic. The ability to recognize, classify, and discriminate among the many forms, both natural and cultural, that exist in one’s environment; exemplars are naturalists and wine tasters. Gardner’s theory and its resulting applications have enjoyed broad dissemination and strong appeal in the teaching profession (see Armstrong, 2000; Campbell, Campbell & Dickinson, 2004). Teachers are drawn to this expanded view of human abilities and their assessment given the following: • the high emotional and educational costs to students who are weak

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in the three R’s or who receive reduced IQ scores (remember that by test design, 50 per cent of the population must score less than 100); • the growing social role of teachers and schools in students’ lives since Binet’s time; • the much broader range of cultural backgrounds, interests, and abilities that are now represented by students; and • more constructivist views of what human learning actually entails. According to Gardner, the intact human being possesses all eight intelligences and most life tasks involve many of them simultaneously. However, he argues, people are differentially strong across the full range of intelligences; it follows that teachers might use a stronger intelligence to support a weaker one. For the secondary school teacher in any subject area, the implications of the multiple intelligences perspective for teaching practice suggest in general the use of multimodal, multisensory, and generally diverse classroom exercises that offer a variety of ways for students to demonstrate their knowledge (see Armstrong, 2000; Campbell, Campbell & Dickinson, 2004). Multiple intelligences (MI) theory also recognizes a variety of instructional activities that would seem irregular to those steeped in the tradition of the three R’s. Of course, if they want to be seen as genuinely interested in multiple forms of learning, teachers must use assessment practices that reflect this interest. Using MI activities as a Monday morning diversion but employing only standard paper-and-pencil testing will not fool the students with regard to what you really believe about learning – students can read signs, too! Speaking of signs, it will not have escaped notice that the labels attached to the multiple intelligences are essentially identical to those of the signways. However, the signways differ from the MIs subtlely on the surface and substantially at a more basic level. Before describing these differences, I will address some attending factors. In the first place, Gardner’s theory has been criticized on a variety of grounds by both psychologists and cultural constructivists. To simplify their concerns, the former group and many members of the psychometric (or measurement) industry claim that MI theory offers a theory of talents, not intelligence (which is determined by standardized paper-and-pencil tests as noted above); that it does not meet the scientific criteria for a theory; and that it lacks evidence to support its contention that intelligences are independent factors of mind and brain (e.g., Klein, 1997; Sternberg, 1994).

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For their part, cultural constructivists criticize Gardner for developing a theory that denies the role of culture in the intelligences; that focuses solely on biological and individual abilities; that adopts the standard psychological standpoint of logical positivism, which values only quantitative measures and abstract factors; that maintains the power of the Eurocentric perspective in determining which exemplars of MI count most; and that highly values schooling that continues to privilege some people and forms of achievement over the professed aims of MI theory (e.g., Cary, 2004; Kincheloe, 2004). Against this backdrop, the signways are cast as a vital bridge between the internal individual intelligences – defined simply by Gardner as biopsychological potentials – and external cultural environments that offer particular contexts in which signs may be understood (H.A. Smith, 2001). Making meaning through signs – the essential task of teaching, according to this book – becomes a qualitative (rather than quantitative) grounded activity that depends on local rather than universal conditions and that employs aspects of both nature and nurture. The interest is not so much with quasi-independent brain areas supporting the multiple intelligences as it is with the cultural tools and artefacts created by the mind–brain in the learning or semiotic process. However, despite the preceding critique of MI theory, a critical positive element of both perspectives – signways and MI – is that they recognize human diversity in forms of learning. For the semiotically oriented teacher, this diversity offers additional signs with which to assess learning. Transmediation Although the theory of multiple intelligences subscribes to the prevailing educational and psychological view that emphasizes the individual above all (see chapter 1), the theory is consistent with psychosemiotics in that it recognizes and values the diversity of signs, including symbols, that should be mastered in education. In this view, students should be able to function at least minimally in all eight signways if they are to become fully competent in the broader society outside the school. As previous chapters have tried to show, meanings in most domains call upon several signways simultaneously. It follows that an unbalanced focus on two signways inside school fails to prepare students for cultural realities outside school. In practice, then, various classroom tasks should be presented so as to foster the use of many signways either simultaneously or sequentially.

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Related Issue Are the Multiple Intelligences also Learning Styles? No. Although often used interchangeably, the two conceptions are quite different. Multiple intelligences (MIs) are more static cognitive entities that offer different ways to learn and know. For example, one might learn about Fort William by reading about it, making a model of it, discussing its historical role, or visiting it. By contrast, learning styles refers to the manner in which students approach their learning tasks. Accordingly, learning styles more resemble processoriented personality dimensions than they do cognitive attributes. For example, some students prefer to first read and reflect when placed in problem-solving situations, while others choose to leap right in. Several theories of learning styles exist, with attending implications for education (e.g., Dunn, Beaudry & Klavas, 1989; Renzulli & Smith, 1978), but the research supporting these theories has been deemed weak (Curry, 1990). The most serious effort to relate learning styles to Gardner’s MI theory has been undertaken by Silver, Strong, and Perini (2000), who apply Carl Jung’s psychological types of sensing, thinking, feeling, and intuiting to the eight MIs. In this theory, each of the MIs may be engaged using at least one of the following styles: mastery, interpersonal, understanding, and self-expressive. Finally, there is the matter of cognitive style, defined as a preferred way to mentally process information (Sternberg & Williams, 2002). According to Sternberg and Grigorenko (1997), cognitive style is an overarching conception that incorporates at least three approaches: the cognition-centred (such as reflection-impulsivity and field dependence-independence), the personality-centred (such as Jung’s theory of types and Gregorc’s energic model), and the activity-centred (such as learning styles and teaching styles). So where does this leave the teacher? Good teachers recognize that students differ in what they prefer to learn, the means through which they learn it (learning mode), and the manner in which they learn it (learning style). These teachers try to present information and accept assignments in a variety of forms, acknowledging that how adolescents complete their tasks is linked closely to who they are – or who they think they are – as people.

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Many elementary teachers use this approach in their teaching (e.g., Fueyo, 2002; Napoli, 2002); this awareness has spread more slowly among secondary teachers. One example of what a psychosemiotic curriculum unit might look like has been described by Epstein (1988). In a threeweek unit on slavery in the United States, she moved beyond linguistic representation to encourage student performances employing legends, songs, art, and video. In her preliminary analysis, she found that students were very creative in imposing meanings on the materials that went beyond the literal interpretations and surface appearances of the sources used. Similar instructional strategies could be applied to a full spectrum of curriculum materials. The deliberate use of many signways in the classroom opens the possibility of representing the ‘same’ meaning within several different sign systems. For example, learners with few linguistic strengths can be encouraged to perform first in the musical, spatial, and bodily-kinesthetic realms before attempting to represent the parallel meaning through language. An important early step in this direction was made by Charles Suhor (1984, 250), who defined the term transmediation as ‘the student’s translation of content from one sign system into another’ (italics added). Suhor went on to elaborate: Examples of transmediation include writing based on pictures, students’ retelling of stories they have read, collages, book reviews, and any written analysis of a nonprint product ... Translations from one medium to another can be literal or imaginative. Literal transmediation is involved in, say, making a raft like the one described in Huckleberry Finn; writing a paraphrase of a poem read in class; making a slide show to illustrate a short story; or doing a mime that parallels the action in a narrative poem. Imaginative transmediation – judged to be more valuable ... – is involved in a collage based on a book; a critical review of a film; a role-playing exercise based on the theme of a story; or a free writing exercise in response to an instrumental music recording. (Ibid., 250)

The idea of moving among the sign systems in a deliberate manner offers a domain of potentially fruitful inquiry. For educational purposes, transmediation exercises should comprise an important set of classroom tasks. For example, Griss (1994) reported on the use of creative movement as a means of teaching topics in such diverse areas as science, mathematics, literature, and social studies. Alternatively, students can be allowed to present their work in a non-typical format. Thus, Lee (1994, 83)

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Most students are natural problem solvers.

permitted a graduate student to use dance in order to address the concepts of consultation and collaboration. Lee wrote: ‘But I didn’t want to know how “smart” Janet was according to some predetermined standard; I wanted to know how Janet was smart.’ According to Semali (2002, 6): ‘Learners who transmediate are exposed to the theories and curriculum practice that will value multiple literacies.’ In addition, today’s powerful computers offer the possibility of transmediation through hypermedia that can use language, sound, graphics, and motion to represent concepts in various ways. Indeed, in the virtual world of the computer, signs are now taking on new representational forms with as yet undiscovered powers (ibid., 2002). Some important aspects of transmediation have been addressed by Marjorie Siegel (1995, 457), who highlights the problem of verbocentrism in schools and suggests that the making of meaning ‘through sign systems other than language is to take the semiotic turn.’ In drawing from Eco (1976), Siegel argues that transmediation achieves its generative power by inventing connections between the content (Peirce’s object) and expression (Peirce’s representamen) planes of two distinct sign systems (or signways, in the context of this book). She supports her arguments with two examples in which linguistic messages are transmediated into spatial renderings and in which transmediation’s close links with cultural mediation and cultural conventions are emphasized. In

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linking metaphor with transmediation, she reflects her concern that transmediation may be dismissed, misunderstood, or misrepresented unless the concept is made clear to educators who are in a position to take advantage of its inherent strengths. Problem Solving An important mission of secondary schools is to promote adolescents’ ability to solve previously unencountered problems – a task faced constantly both inside and outside school. Many teachers attempt to improve the problem-solving skills of their students by teaching more or less formally some standard steps of the problem-solving cycle. These various steps can be represented as follows (e.g., Sternberg & Williams, 2002): 1 Identify that a problem exists in the first place. 2 Define carefully the problem at hand. 3 Use the signways to represent and organize information about the problem. 4 Create or choose a strategy for solving the problem. 5 Allocate appropriate resources, especially time, to solve the problem. 6 Constantly monitor the problem-solving process. 7 Evaluate the solution to the problem, revisiting previous steps if necessary. To solve problems using the problem-solving cycle, it is usually necessary to call upon some form of logical reasoning. Three modes of inference are possible, as stated summarily by Charles Peirce (1998, 212): ‘Reasoning is of three types, Deduction, Induction, and Abduction.’ The first two of these are familiar to most educated people, for deduction has dominated Western logic for more than two thousand years, and induction has been a feature of philosophy and modern science for almost seven hundred years. One can say that deduction derives a conclusion from a known general law, and that induction infers (with some probability but not certainty) a general law from a particular set of facts. Both processes can be represented in syllogisms comprising a rule (the major premise), a case (the minor premise), and a result (the conclusion). Deduction Rule Water boils at 100 degrees Celsius. Case This liquid boils at 100 degrees Celsius.

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Result Therefore, this liquid is water. Induction Case This liquid boils at 100 degrees Celsius. Result This liquid is water. Rule Therefore, water may boil at 100 degrees Celsius. However, the third form of inference, abduction, may be new to most readers as a logical form. To first explain the concept in everyday terms, abduction is equivalent to guessing or playing a hunch based on the available information. We may not be able to rationalize our guess or hunch, but we often act on it anyway. Sherlock Holmes was famous for using abduction to solve cases: in many stories, an ephemeral clue offered him several hypotheses, from which he chose the most likely for further examination. Let us now look more formally at this intriguing concept, which we apply every day, often without being aware of it. The two syllogisms presented above illustrate that deduction and induction begin with the necessary hypotheses, rules, or principles already in place. By contrast, abduction involves the generation of hypotheses from observed, and especially anomalous, facts. This process does not happen through deduction, which draws predictions from an already existing hypothesis about what the results will be of an experiment. Nor does the process of hypothesis generation involve induction, which is characterized by inferences drawn from the results of testing predictions that are provided by deductive means. With induction, as for deduction, the hypotheses are already known. By contrast, abduction is the process through which new hypotheses are created; therefore, it can be properly regarded as the logic of discovery (e.g., Fann, 1970; H.A. Smith, 2002). In 1903, Peirce described the inferential form for abduction, and in doing so greatly expanded the possibility of exploring abduction as a basic psychological and semiotic process central to meaning, understanding, and the establishing of belief: The surprising fact, C, is observed; But if A were true, C would be a matter of course. Hence, there is reason to suspect that A is true. (1998, 231)

This form shows clearly that abduction is reasoning that begins with unexpected data and goes on to produce explanatory hypotheses. By

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contrast, induction begins with theory (e.g., Peirce, 1998, 216). This depiction of abduction led to Hanson’s (1958) argument that natural scientists start from data, not hypotheses, and that relevant data are anomalous or perplexing rather than ‘ordinary.’ The features of abduction support two further claims. First, abduction is usually a nonconscious psychosemiotic process (H.A. Smith, 2002), although a detective reading clues at a murder scene is certainly aware of the hypotheses he is developing for later testing by deductive and inductive means. Second, we employ abduction in an ongoing manner, and this mode of inference is likely the default mode of everyday reasoning (Shank, 1998). Hence, teachers of subject areas from physics to literature should encourage their students to create guesses or hypotheses that explain observed facts, and then to test their hypotheses through deduction and induction. Indeed, Siegel and Carey (1989) encourage teachers to create abductive environments of this sort in order to promote critical thinking in their students. Over his lifetime, Peirce (1992, 1998) made great efforts to clearly differentiate these three forms of inference. He did so mainly in order to support the three universal categories on which his semiotic theory is grounded: Firstness, the quality of feeling and originality; Secondness, which is based in experience and causality; and Thirdness, of rule, law, generality, and becoming. In this framework, abduction is grounded in Firstness, deduction in Secondness, and induction in Thirdness. These three modes of inference may be considered the engine or driving force of semiosis, or learning. In this process, the three forms of inference act constantly on the constituents of the sign triad (see chapter 1) while advancing from the qualitative and emotional features of Firstness in the assorted sign relationships through experience to the laws and generality of Thirdness. In this way, semiosis (or, again, learning) is marked by the ever-widening cyclical processes of abduction, deduction, and induction in an ongoing dialectic of development. Surprise and Experience In the preceding discussion on abduction, we encountered the syllogistic form for abduction that began ‘The surprising fact, C, is observed.’ This form offers a critical role for surprise in semiosis. Thus the element of surprise is central to Peircean thought, with substantial implications for educational practice (see H.A. Smith, 2005). According to Peirce (1998, 88), a surprise is created when an expectation established by past

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experience is not realized: ‘Thus it is that all knowledge begins by the discovery that there has been an erroneous expectation of which we had before hardly been conscious.’ Peirce argued that there are two kinds of surprise: the less passive, when one tries to anticipate a particular result that does not come; and the more passive, when a strong sensation presses on one’s consciousness when no effort has been made to produce the effect. In both cases, ‘any surprise involves a resistance to accepting the fact’ (ibid., 499). Surprise then triggers a series of events involving abduction, experience, and the fixation of belief. The relationships among these concepts are examined next; some pertinent educational implications will then be drawn. As for the inferential mode of abduction (see Hintikka, 1998), Peirce (1998, 287) believed that ‘the whole operation of reasoning begins with Abduction [for which] its occasion is a surprise’ when an existing belief has not been confirmed. Furthermore: ‘Your mind was filled [with] an imaginary object that was expected. At the moment when it was expected the vividness of the representation is exalted, and suddenly when it should come something quite different comes instead’ (ibid., 154). As shown above, when the mind then tries to deal with the modified facts, a new conception or hypothesis known as the abduction (of Firstness) is created for subsequent testing by deductive (Secondness) and inductive (Thirdness) means. Surprise and the ensuing abductive process originate in and are resolved by experience. Indeed, for Peirce, ‘experience is our only teacher’ (ibid., 153). Peirce believed in the power of the human mind to originate ideas, but he also stated that ‘truths are almost drowned in a flood of false notions; and that which experience does is gradually, and by a sort of fractionation, to precipitate and filter off the false ideas, eliminating them and letting the truth pour on in its mighty current’ (ibid., 154). In the second of his famous 1903 Harvard lectures, Peirce continued: ‘But precisely how does this action of experience take place? It takes place by a series of surprises ... it is by surprises that experience teaches all she deigns to teach us. In all the works on pedagogy that ever I read, – and they have been many, big, and heavy, – I don’t remember that any one has advocated a system of teaching by practical jokes, mostly cruel. That, however, describes the method of our great teacher, Experience.’ Thus, experience prepares the mind for new endeavours: ‘It is true that the different elements of the hypothesis were in our minds before; but it is the idea of putting together what we had never before dreamed

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of putting together which flashes the new suggestion before our contemplation’ (ibid., 227). Or: ‘The stimulus to guessing, the hint of the conjecture, was derived from experience. The order of the march of suggestion in [abduction] is from experience to hypothesis’ (Hartshorne & Weiss, 1932, 478). The objective of an explanatory hypothesis created by abduction is, after testing, ‘to lead to the avoidance of all surprise and to the establishment of a habit of positive expectation that shall not be disappointed’ (Peirce, 1998, 235). Just as Peirce differentiated two kinds of surprise in his pragmatic theory, so did he specify two kinds of experience that move us to action: active effort, and passive surprise. Peirce continues: ‘Both active endeavor and passive surprise involve a sense of opposition to an external force ... Effort and surprise are the only experiences from which we can derive the concept of action’ (ibid., 385). The main contribution of experience is to remove doubt triggered by surprise: ‘Genuine doubt always has an external origin, usually from surprise’ (ibid., 348). The doubt caused by surprise is removed by gathering a sufficient number of observations, then generating hypotheses through abduction and testing those hypotheses. In this way we come closer to knowing the truth, reducing or removing doubt, eliminating surprise, and fixing beliefs. The implications of all this for educational practice are significant, for the upshot of this discussion is that all new learning arises from encounters with doubt triggered by surprise. In the first place, therefore, both teachers and students must be open to doubt and, more directly, open to being surprised. Surprise as elaborated above is carried by experience, which Peirce described as ‘our only teacher’ (ibid., 153). He made this position clear on several occasions, including in this 1903 statement (ibid., 194), which complements another one already presented: ‘We all admit that Experience is our great Teacher; and Dame Experience practices a pedagogic method which springs from her own affable and complacent nature. Her favorite way of teaching is by means of practical jokes, – the more cruel the better. To describe it more exactly, Experience invariably teaches by means of surprises.’ Because surprise results from contextual interactions with objects and with other persons, it cannot be planned for directly – otherwise, there would be no surprise. The implication here is that teachers should themselves be open to surprise both in their personal dealings with students and in their instruction. Instruction should permit some deviation from and spontaneity in the lesson plan. This recommendation goes very much against attempts by some curriculum writers to eliminate surprise

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through rigidly structured teaching situations that try to prevent the unexpected from occurring. Thus, teacher-proofed materials developed by governments and private agencies for ‘delivery’ and ‘transmission’ in the classroom usually mitigate against surprise and, ultimately, learning. At the same time, however, spontaneity does not just happen – it must be planned for by ‘setting the stage or situation in which the spontaneous activity is intended to occur’ (Levy, 1952, p. 156). Teachers, then, should plan for surprises in their classroom instruction even though their approved curricula may have tried to plan away any surprise. One background element in ongoing learning and instruction is Peirce’s principle of fallibilism, which posits that knowledge is never fixed or finite. In this view, teachers are effective only if they see their actions and beliefs as fallible and therefore as potentially modifiable (cf. ibid). The modification of beliefs is not only the basis of learning but also essential for effective teaching. In other words, teachers must seek and expect change in themselves as well as in their students. According to Peirce, ongoing processes of learning are always sociocultural (a word he did not use) and community (a word he did use) events rather than individual and private ones. Motivation Cognition, motivation, and emotion have been described by Ernest Hilgard (1980) as the ‘trilogy of mind.’ A variety of relationships among these three terms has been described in the psychological literature (see Lazarus, 1984, 1991; Zajonc, 1984). Thus, motivation and emotion have typically been treated as distinct topics, despite their historically and conceptually close association. The usual psychological position is that emotions are not motives; rather, they are essential parts of motivational systems. However, some researchers (e.g., Isen, 2004) insist that various components of affect such as motivation, feelings, cognitions, behaviour, and neurological processes are integrated into a single whole. Educators concerned with purpose, intent, goal, attitude, affect, mood, and emotion would agree. Nevertheless, in this section and the following one, some effort will be made to differentiate between motivation and emotion even though the two are tightly interlocked. Traditionally, motivation has been discussed from several distinct vantage points. In classical behaviourism, motivation is equated with such notions as drives, excitatory potentials, and response tendencies; these are reflected in the frequencies of specified behaviours emitted or elic-

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ited over designated time intervals. In the psychoanalytic and personality traditions, motivation is often cast as a variety of needs, characteristics, or stages; these are determined from extensive interviews and performances on arranged tasks and paper-and-pencil instruments. In Western educational psychology, motivation centres on concepts derived from American culture such as achievement motivation, self-regulation, and selfefficacy. Unfortunately, in most information processing accounts, motivation has endured a thundering silence over the past forty years. This neglect of motivation is understandable, given the prevailing adherence to the machine metaphor as applied to human cognitive functions. Machines, of course, do not have motives or wills. They simply perform their cause-effect routines in certain prescribed ways. Some talk about beliefs and desires exists in information processing circles, but these discussions usually arise in the context of algorithmic procedures that can be clearly specified at some level. On other occasions, some attention is given to attribution theory and efficacy as essentially rational concepts. However, in cultural psychology and semiotics, motivation plays an essential and central role in human learning and meaning. Terms such as purpose, intention, and goal are taken as critical concepts that must be embraced and understood. This stance was endorsed by Jerome Bruner (1986, 147) as he reflected on the views of another giant of psychology: Or take Piaget ... There was no place for use and intention, only for an analysis of the products of mind taken in the abstract. So there was no place for human dilemmas, for tragic plights, for local knowledge encapsulated in bias. Piaget’s very program, his ‘genetic epistemology,’ was insufficiently human: to trace the history of mathematics and science in the growth of the child’s mind. But what light does that shed on the history of sensibility, of ‘madness,’ of alienation, or of passions? ... More modestly, the system failed to capture the particularity of Everyman’s knowledge, the role of negotiations in establishing meaning.

As a cultural psychologist, Bruner not only emphasizes the central role played by motivation in the study of human cognition but also points to the close connection between motivation and meaning. This connection has been noted by others such as Burke (1969) and Maddi (1971, 137), who argued that ‘the ultimate problem of motivational psychology is to understand how man [and woman] searches for and finds meaning.’

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Meaning is also central to a semiotic position, especially a psychosemiotic one. To illustrate, let us return to the three modes of inference described earlier and ask what motivates the inferential processes in semiosis. In chapter 1 we saw how constituents of the sign change continuously over time and – from the section on problem solving – how this change is driven by abduction, deduction, and induction. In Peircean semiotics this development is pushed by the need to make sense of the surrounding context through the removal of doubt. Genuine doubt arises from uncertainty based in experience within a particular context. The motivation to reduce or remove this doubt is the trigger for semiosis and for the resulting change in one’s current beliefs, which Peirce called the fixation of belief (Buchler, 1955; Peirce, 1992). Peirce described four methods for establishing, or fixing, beliefs: tenacity, or holding onto beliefs in the face of doubt; authority, or accepting beliefs from credible leaders; a priori, or incorporating beliefs into an already existing belief structure; and experiment. In this last method – the one preferred by Peirce – we remove doubt by collecting a sufficient number of observations, then generating hypotheses through abduction to explain the perplexing data, and, finally, testing the hypotheses through deductive and inductive means. In this way the meaning attached to the sign deepens, doubt is reduced or removed, and beliefs become established (Cunningham, 1998). For secondary school teachers, the motivation to make meaning and to promote mental equilibrium by fixing beliefs can be a powerful ally in the students’ educational development. As noted earlier, the element of surprise in learning plays a highly significant role in this process. The apparently deep-seated human motivation to create meaning from every situation by fixing beliefs can be addressed from yet another perspective. It now seems quite clear that the meanings we assign to or derive from situations are linked to existing purposes, goals, and intentions. The question is why does this link occur? A parsimonious guess, or abduction, is that individuals are motivated to survive, in the Darwinian sense, as biological and cultural entities. This powerful underlying motivation to make sense of one’s internal and external environments so as to survive brings meaning to the very forefront of human action. The ability to survive then depends on our ability to assign appropriate meanings to situations and take appropriate actions. These steps require us to become competent with the conceptual and technical tools used and valued by the surrounding culture (Garbarino, 1985; H.A. Smith, 1992; White, 1959).

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The wish, desire, or need to become competent is the surface manifestation of the deep-seated, intrinsic motivation to survive (or, restated, ‘If I’m to survive in this environment and culture, I had better become competent in some particular ways’). But what are these particular ways? Certainly, it is vital to learn the local language along with all the other forms of communication that are used regularly. We notice the incredible growth of competence in even the youngest infants, who immediately display extraordinary social and communicative acts in order to remain warm and fed and to become important parts of the local cultural milieu (e.g., Bruner & Sherwood, 1981; Gelman, 1990; Karmiloff-Smith, 1993; Shotter, 1978). In general, we can speculate that the areas in which competence is required correspond to the signways described earlier. Hence, in order to survive in our natural and cultural environments, we must become competent in the various forms of representation to which we are exposed and for which we are biologically and culturally equipped. If motivation is a fundamental human condition, why, then, do teachers complain so often that their students lack motivation? Are these students really unmotivated, or are they just unmotivated to undertake the kinds of tasks assigned to them in school? One of the most fundamental distinctions that educational psychologists make involves the difference between intrinsic motivation and extrinsic motivation. Intrinsic motivation is based on internal factors that prompt us to seek out interests of personal concern. No externally imposed reward is necessary or even desirable as we engage in pursuits of our own choosing – the activity itself is rewarding enough (see Deci & Ryan, 1985; Reeve, 1996). By constrast, extrinsic motivation refers to the engagement in tasks for which we expect or seek some kind of external reward. Pleasing the teacher, avoiding punishment, and earning a course grade are all examples of extrinsic motivation. Here, one engages with the task for its reward value rather than for its intrinsic worth. Perhaps motivation is a problem in school when students have little opportunity to engage with tasks that are linked to intrinsic motivation and to becoming competent in what matters to them. Motivational researchers (e.g., Clifford, 1984; Nicholls, 1984) suggest that individuals tend to be intrinsically motivated when they focus on personal learning goals, perceive that what they are learning is personally meaningful, and have supportive, respectful relationships with their teachers. They also seem more motivated to learn when they have some autonomy and control over the learning process (Ryan, 1993; Ryan & Stiller, 1991). In his important article of forty years ago, Bruner (1964) argued that

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the development of human intellectual functioning depends on ‘the mastery of techniques and cannot be understood without reference to such mastery. These techniques are not, in the main, inventions of the individuals who are “growing up”; they are, rather, skills transmitted with varying efficiency and success by the culture – language being a prime example’ (1964, 1). Later in the same article, Bruner argued that ‘growth depends upon the emergence of two forms of competence ... representation and integration. I have suggested that we can conceive of growth in both of these domains as the emergence of new technologies for the unlocking and amplification of human intellectual powers’ (ibid., 13). According to the competency view, then, our adolescent students are extremely motivated to become proficient in what matters to them, and what matters to them is what matters to the sociocultural groups to which they aspire to belong. Some recent theories focus on conscious processes that are linked to the control of our thinking. Here, students can think of themselves as agents. Their beliefs about what they cannot do hold them back if they are not aware that they can choose how to interpret the influence these beliefs have on their feelings and actions. Individuals can be controlled by their beliefs and thoughts, or they can be in control of them. Thus they have the power to step outside the influence of negative beliefs about their lack of ability or fear of failure. Students can view themselves as playing an active role in creating their own personal realities and belief systems. Such views of motivation suggest that agency is the basis for self-determination, which in turn rests on motivation as a natural capacity to learn and grow. Teachers can do a great deal to support these beliefs in their students. The resulting implication is that in order for students to draw on their inherent motivation to learn, and in order for them to become competent with the signs of their cultures, they need to understand how their thinking can influence their moods and actions. Even if they perceive that background characteristics can interfere with their success, they recognize that it is their thoughts about these factors that interfere with positive feelings and the motivation to learn. They can choose to redirect their thoughts, and they can work to overcome barriers. Teachers can teach strategies for dealing with perceived problems and help students develop understandings that offset these negative influences. McCombs and Pope (1994) contend that students must be in classrooms with teachers and classmates who genuinely care about them and support them. These environments should help students learn to use

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their minds and take control of their own thoughts, meaning making, and learning. The authors call this kind of thinking ‘skill,’ the attending well-being and feelings of agency ‘will,’ and the interpersonal context ‘social support’ (1994, 16–17). They also suggest that only teachers who themselves feel the social support of administrators and colleagues will be able to supply such positive teaching and learning experiences with caring and encouragement. In successful programs, high-quality relationships are manifest among adults and children, adults and adults, and children and children. In summary, today’s theories of motivation emphasize which cultural tools and artefacts individuals are (or should be) learning about and how they think about themselves in the process. In this context, observable behaviours, taken by themselves, are not considered important. The challenge for teachers is to help students rediscover the natural motivation to learn when they are in positive states of mind and supportive learning environments. Everyone can learn (even if not all to the same extent about the same things), and everyone can be motivated to learn, but teachers cannot do this to students. With the help of their teachers, students construct what they think of themselves as learners. Students should learn that they are agents who can control their own thoughts as well as the impact of those thoughts on their desire and success in learning. Teachers who claim that their students are ‘not motivated to learn’ should really be saying that their students are ‘not motivated to learn what I’m giving them.’ Most students are motivated, but they are motivated to succeed at the things they (and especially their peers) value. Just watch them in the corridor, in the gymnasium, in the schoolyard, and in the street. It follows that one of your key tasks as a teacher is to link your instruction with the students’ perceived needs and show how success at learning tasks in the classroom will move them closer to their goals. The old saw ‘make it relevant to the students’ is just as valid today as it was a century ago. Emotion Let us now consider emotion and some of its immediate links to cognition. At this time we will not be addressing other aspects of emotion, such as its links to personality and identity, emotional expression in groups, clinical therapies, and specific emotions such as anger and disgust. Although the mainstream cognitive science literature is relatively

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Related Issue How Should Teachers Respond to Effort Avoidance in School? Some students are highly motivated, and take deliberate actions, to avoid effort in achievement situations that they have found frustrating. Teachers may perceive such actions as negative; in fact, these behaviours serve to protect the students from excessive stress and enable them to search for the most economical ways to accomplish tasks. However, when effort avoidance is a habitual reaction to most or all school tasks, the teacher should take some steps to improve the situation. When does effort avoidance become a problem, and what actions should the teacher take? According to Austrian psychologist Brigitte Rollett (1986), committed effort avoiders think nothing of appearing less intelligent and competent than they are. Contrary to expectation, they cease working immediately on being praised for their achievements (so as to prevent expectations of further work on their part). Furthermore, they manifest one of two working styles: either they work in an extremely slipshod way, or they work extremely slowly so as to get almost nothing done. Both working styles are highly effective in making most teachers lose patience with the students and excuse them from finishing the work. In situations like this, the teacher should show genuine, friendly interest in the student and at the same time break up the work into small, interesting steps, all the while insisting steadfastly that the assigned work be completed. Computer-based instruction can help slow-working learners by allowing them to work at their own pace and receive immediate feedback. Because slipshod workers tend not to pay attention to the instructions, they should be helped to state the purpose of assigned tasks as well as the steps required to complete them. In extreme cases of effort avoidance, students may have to be referred to trained professionals for therapeutic intervention.

silent on the topic of motivation, it does acknowledge the existence of the felt or experienced feature of mental states that philosophers label qualia (Stillings et al., 1995). To specify qualia is to state what something is like, often by appealing to non-linguistic sensory phenomena. For

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example, the statement ‘that smells like a rose’ elicits, for those with the requisite experiences, certain bodily and mental reactions even when no roses are present. However, because qualia are seen as intrinsic but non-functional attributes of psychological states (that is, as unrelated to the physical nature of a system’s inputs and outputs), they pose difficulties for inquiries in cognitive science. For this reason, the usual stance adopted by cognitive scientists is to restrict cognitive properties to functional information-processing states that exclude qualitative elements such as qualia and emotions, which are not considered essential for understanding the nature of cognition. Of course, other researchers do not share this view and assign a central role to emotion in all cognitive phenomena such as meaning, intention, memory, and perception (e.g., Christianson, 1992; Damasio, 1994, 1999; Ekman & Davidson, 1994; Konner, 2002; Lewis & Haviland, 1993; Manstead, Frijda & Fischer, 2004; Schutz & DeCuir, 2002). Gordon Bower (1992, 1994) was most explicit on this point when he stated that ‘emotion is evolution’s way of giving meaning to our lives’ and that ‘our lives are ordered and organized by our needs, motives, and concerns’ (1992, 4). Bower then went on to review studies showing the effects of emotion on learning and on various stages of memory formation such as attention and retrieval. A large body of other work has shown how emotion – and a related concept, mood – affect ongoing cognitive processes and the development of particular memories. The usual finding is that the extent and quality of memory for an occasion is directly related to the accompanying type and degree of emotion. The most compelling early work along these lines was conducted by Frederick Bartlett (1932), who in the 1920s and 1930s established the vital role played by what he called attitude with regard to which materials were remembered, and how. For semiotic researchers and educators concerned with human agency in ever-changing contexts, emotion is a central force to be considered and understood. Without motivation and emotion, their argument goes, cognition is simply inert and action does not occur. Given the importance of emotion to understanding the nature and direction of cognition, it seems crucial to include emotional elements in any relevant inquiry. An example of a theoretical position that incorporates both emotional and ‘rational’ elements as central features has been described by Seymour Epstein (1993, 1994). In his proposal for a cognitive-experiential self-theory, Epstein argues that two human systems exist to help us understand the world: the experiential and the rational. These systems are parallel and interacting, and each is comprised of constructs that bear on both the self and the world. The experiential system,

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Tips for Teachers On reducing anxiety in students 1 Avoid situations in which highly anxious students must perform in front of large groups. 2 Make your instructions clear, as ambiguity can promote anxiety. 3 If you use class competitions, make sure that everyone has an equal chance of winning. 4 Avoid unnecessary or excessive time pressures; assigning takehome tests is sometimes helpful in this respect. 5 Remove some of the pressures of tests and exams by teaching test-taking skills and assigning practice tests. 6 Develop alternatives to written tests by assigning and grading products from several of the signways (for example, built models, group projects, skill demonstrations).

which has a long evolutionary history, is described as holistic, affective, composed of associationistic connections, able to respond to situations immediately, capable of being experienced passively and non-consciously, and subject to context-specific processing. Learning in this system is characterized by affect, pictures, parables, and stories. Religion communicates well with this system, as do superstitions, fears, and advertising. In the experiential system, schemata are constructed that consist mainly of generalizations from emotionally significant past experiences and that are organized into an overall adaptive system. The generalizations are formed by and occur through prototypes, metaphors, scripts, and narratives. By contrast, the rational system, which has a short evolutionary history, is described as analytic, logical, composed of logical connections, oriented toward delayed action, capable of being experienced actively and consciously, and characterized by cross-context processing. Learning in this system is deliberate, effortful, and rational, with a heavy dependence on language. In the rational system, beliefs are constructed from cultural sign (including symbol) systems such as language and mathematics. However, this system is constantly influenced out of awareness by the experiential system.

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The value of Epstein’s formulation is that it recognizes ongoing emotional influences on our rational products or – perhaps more accurately – on our rationalizing about events. According to both Epstein and Bower, emotion has strong links to the body and is also intimately linked to meaning. It follows that a substantial part of the meaning attributed to a given situation is embodied. The implications for teachers are obvious: engage the students bodily, get them away from sitting passively at their desks, and offer a variety of hands-on experiences. When teachers offer lessons that address many signways – including the bodily-kinesthetic – students are more apt to be emotionally engaged in the class and less apt to manifest motivational problems. Of course, most students are emotionally engaged in class proceedings even if they are not the least bit interested in the formal lesson of the moment. They are protecting their self-esteem and identity in a variety of ways and are often working hard to avoid being embarrassed by the teacher. Hence, some students are sufficiently anxious in class that their learning is being impeded. This section’s Tips for Teachers suggests approaches to reducing this sort of classroom anxiety. Peirce would have said that emotion or feeling is a quality based in Firstness, a central property shared with abduction. For Peirce, emotion has an intrinsic role in the development of the sign and therefore in semiosis. Corrington (1993, 81) offers a relevant interpretation of the role of emotion in semiosis: Peirce advances what could be called an ‘intentional’ theory of emotion. Such a theory denies that emotions are purely internal states of affairs that merely serve to color the surface of self-consciousness. Rather, emotions are outward-directed intentions that predicate qualities of objects. To have an emotion is to project (intend) a feeling-state outward onto an objective field. To be angry, for example, is to be angry at some thing or person. Without an external and intentional referent, the emotion could not emerge in the first place.

To extend this account, emotion is derived from feeling, which is of Firstness, is intentional, and moves outwards to experience in Secondness. Peirce assigned a central role to feeling in defining the mind, at times almost equating the two concepts. In 1892 he proclaimed his doctrine of synechism, the law of mind that perceives all mind as directly or indirectly connected with all matter; it follows that the tendency of feeling is towards connectedness and relation (e.g., Buchler, 1955). In its role

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as a foundational relational structure, feeling is sociocultural from the very beginning and serves to link one mind with every other mind. In the Peircean scheme, feeling is spatial, temporal, and relational and constitutes the foundation of cognition, psychosemiotics, and education. Because mind-feeling is linked to matter, all thought is in signs and furthermore all signs are embodied. Indeed, Peirce anticipated contemporary discussions and ongoing cognitive science research concerning the embodiment of mind (see Lakoff & Johnson, 1999; H.A. Smith, 2002) when in 1892 he wrote: What we call matter is not completely dead, but is merely mind hidebound with habits. It still retains the element of diversification; and in that diversification there is life. When an idea is conveyed from one mind to another, it is by forms of combination of the diverse elements of nature ... If [these forms] are eternal, it is in the spirit they embody; and their origin cannot be accounted for by any mechanical necessity. They are embodied ideas. (quoted in Buchler, 1955, 351)

These sentiments underline that the school’s almost exclusive focus on abstract, rational thought is misguided. Furthermore, such an emphasis is impossible to achieve, given our biological structures. Teachers who do not acknowledge the central role played by feeling and emotion in the lives and learning of adolescents are bound to encounter difficulties in their teaching. Memory critique of the standard approach to studying human memory One of the most active research areas over the past century involves human memory, the public display of which has been taken as the critical sign of learning. This element of human capability has had tremendous impact on the nature of formal schooling. For example, schoolwork and examinations have consisted mainly of ‘memory work,’ in which basketloads of memorized facts have been considered the indicator of a successful educational experience. Outside school, trivia games are predicated on people’s memory for isolated facts. Some people stake their reputations on the ability to recall mountains of facts, such as baseball statistics. Others are known for their ability to tell long jokes or stories. An active industry aimed at memory enhancement has existed for well over a hundred years. Where, then, does theory and research about human memory stand today? What are the implications of memory research for teachers?

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In general, the theoretical foundations of memory research in psychology and education are rooted in the seventeenth-century model of Newtonian physics. Accordingly, this research seeks to be objective and reductionistic in specifying the brain structures and functions of memory. However, over the past forty years it has become increasingly clear that psychological questions involving functional memory will not be resolved by collecting data at the biological and physiological levels. This realization has prompted various highly respected neuropsychologists to embrace research paradigms other than the objective and mechanistic to guide their inquiries. For example, Chorover (1990) outlined his developing personal preference for a systemic rather than a reductionist approach to neuropsychological research – one that considers both contextual and evolutionary perspectives in understanding memory. A recurring topic in research concerns the physical location of memories. A number of relationships have been proposed between memory storage and brain areas (see Gazzaniga, 1985; Rosenfield, 1988). At least five decades of research in neurobiological laboratories have yielded little support for the more static views of memory – those which involve locating memory traces in specific regions of the brain. One of the most active researchers in this area concluded that although it has been widely assumed that the cerebral cortex is the primary site of long-term storage, the evidence for this from studies in non-human animals is surprisingly meagre (Thompson, 1986). Insofar as it has been collected ethically, the data from human subjects yield an even more bleak assessment. Kinsbourne (1988, 415) has summarized the current situation: ‘Few theorists nowadays would regard these alleged memory traces as being specifically located in a particular piece of brain tissue. Stores, typified by boxes in flowcharts, representing the conceptual nervous system, are on their way out. The function of remembering is a recollection, a reexperiencing of a previous situation, represented by a particular pattern of then existing brain activation.’ Over the past few years, theorists attempting to model the structure and functions of memory have supported the general notion that memory is a non-localized phenomenon. Typical assumptions of the modellers are that a stored pattern is distributed over many different brain locations, that any given location can contribute to the storage of many different patterns, and that retrieval of information is achieved by obeying known mathematical principles to reconstruct information found in the assorted locations. Kanerva (1988) offered one example of this modelling approach. He assumed that a distributed pattern for memory exists, but he also tried to show that the storage locations for a given

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piece of information are relatively few in number (i.e., sparse) and are distributed randomly within the brain’s address space. In psychology, the reductionist tradition in memory research has led to a specific approach to experimentation that involves, among other things the following: contrived situations; presumably novel test items disconnected from everyday contexts of use; linguistic symbols; subjects who are verbally fluent university undergraduate students with high IQs; subjects who are motivated to participate in the studies in order to satisfy a course requirement; and rigid time constraints in which to learn and remember the target items. One consequence of this approach to memory is that research questions and speculations have been confined generally to only those phenomena that can be examined in this way. Accordingly, these studies have not paid attention to such topics as bodily concomitants of verbal presentation (e.g., Rimé & Schiaratura, 1991), motivational or emotional influences (e.g., Frijda, 1988), social considerations (e.g., Verdonik, 1988); complementary senses such as touch and smell; the ability to learn from novel experiences; and individual or shared meanings of the test materials (e.g., Johnson, 1987). Rather, the entire experimental situation – which could be described as bloodless – revolves around the recall or recognition of a restricted set of discrete items. Perlmutter (1988, 355) declared that this type of research focuses ‘on only a very special kind of memory, that is, on deliberate memory of symbolic information over short time intervals in extremely sterile situations.’ At least one other factor should be considered in this regard. From an ecological perspective, it not enough that subjects respond simply to stimuli imposed on them. To function adaptively in their environments, humans along with other animals must actively seek out information relevant to their needs (Reed, 1989). It can be argued that the memory processes involved in this latter pursuit differ quite strongly from those required in the typical passive laboratory setting. Thus, although much is now known about memory in structured situations, it is also clear that there is a great deal more to learn about memory elsewhere. Concern with the prevailing model of research on memory is at least sixty years old. In 1932, Bartlett reacted to the nonsense syllable work of one of psychology’s pioneers in the following manner: So far as the stimulus side of his method goes, Ebbinghaus’s work is open to the following criticisms: (a) It is impossible to rid stimuli of meaning so long as they remain capable of arousing any human response. (b) The

Teaching as a Semiotic Venture 211 effort to do this creates an atmosphere of artificiality for all memory experiments, making them rather a study of the establishment and maintenance of repetition habits. (c) To make the explanation of the variety of recall responses depend mainly upon variations of stimuli and of their order, frequency and mode of presentation, is to ignore dangerously those equally important conditions of response which belong to the subjective attitude and to predetermined reaction tendencies. (1932, 4)

Unfortunately, in the intervening years, little attention has been paid to Bartlett’s cautions by most of those undertaking investigations in human memory. The particular methodology of this research has yielded a mixture of results. In turn these results have prompted the postulation of an array of memory systems. Typical classifications include the following: short-term, medium-term, and long-term memory; memory registration, storage, and retrieval; episodic and semantic memory; procedural and declarative memory; verbal and imaginal memory; and various relationships among several of these conceptualizations (e.g., Atkinson & Shiffrin, 1968; Paivio, 1986; Ryle, 1949; E.E. Smith, 1999; Squire & Cohen, 1982; Tulving, 1972). The making of ever finer distinctions among these systems has occupied a virtual army of graduate students and researchers. This tendency to add to the ever growing number of mechanisms to account for findings on human memory has not gone unnoticed within the research community. Three examples of its comment will be noted here. First, Kinsbourne (1989) focused on the popular distinction between declarative (‘knowing that’) and procedural (‘knowing how’) knowledge by arguing that there is no fundamental distinction between these two hypothesized variants. He contended that ‘knowing that yields to knowing how’ (1989, 182) and ‘in knowing how, there is an implicit history of knowing that’ (ibid., 183). Second, Crowder (1989) questioned whether the distinctions between declarative and procedural memory and those between short- and long-term memory storage are justified. Third, and more generally, Watkins (1990) called for the abandonment of all theories involving mediationism, that he defined as the doctrine that the representation of an event is embodied in a memory trace which is retained between the time of the event’s occurrence and its recollection. Watkins called for research focusing instead on the actual experience of remembering and on the context in which it occurs. Past dissatisfaction with standard memory research prompted the levels-of-processing framework, proposed some years ago by Craik and

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Lockhart (1972). The main objective of their strategy was to shift the focus of memory research away from the ‘memory box’ models of the 1960s (e.g., Atkinson & Shiffrin, 1968) towards a more procedural approach in which the memory trace would be understood as a ‘by-product or record of normal cognitive processes such as comprehension, categorization, or discrimination’ (Lockhart & Craik, 1990, 89). Nevertheless, despite some efforts over the past sixty years to shift research on memory towards more productive and relevant grounds, the bulk of pertinent published work has continued to use laboratory-based methods and materials grounded in the objectivist and reductionist tradition of inquiry that began with Ebbinghaus (see Perlmutter, 1988). The usual approach to memory research has had other influences on the development of theory and resulting applications. For example, it has been necessary to deal with the problem of the ghost in the machine, the homunculus, which has been postulated to control various brain operations, such as search strategies and determinations about which items are ‘correct’ or ‘incorrect’ in given test situations. Typically, the matter has been ‘resolved’ by proposing some form of executive memory function to go along with other notions such as metamemory, metacognition, and metaphenomena. As a second example, the traditional approach to studying memory has led to rather limited views of memory in applied settings. Because memories have been seen as fixed and enduring in most contexts, the acquisition and subsequent transfer of abstract decontextualized information was adopted long ago as a primary goal of formal learning. Other research traditions have approached the study of memory from alternative perspectives even though they have not been considered in the mainstream of psychological research. Unfortunately, there has been almost no overlap in communication between traditions grounded in the objectivist paradigm as outlined above and those based on other formulations. One of the latter perceives human memory as primarily a sociocultural, developmental, reconstructive, and ever-changing phenomenon. This view seems to offer much promise for understanding everyday human memory, whether inside or outside school, and will be examined next. the cultural constructivist and psychosemiotic approach to memory As reviewed above, disquiet with the limitations of the usual approach to human memory is long-standing, especially where the experimental sit-

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uation is concerned. In his classic work on human remembering, Bartlett (1932) raised a number of issues that are drawing renewed interest today. In the first place, Bartlett commented on the dynamic nature of memory: ‘Nobody who reflects upon how variously determined are the processes and content of perception will be prone to give a careless allegiance to the theory of lifeless, fixed and unchangeable memory traces’ (1932, 33). With this view in mind, he assigned the dynamic word remembering to his 1932 book. More recently, Ulric Neisser (1996, 204) has linked action with memory and remembering: ‘Remembering is a kind of doing. Like other kinds of doing, it is purposive, personal, and particular.’ In Neisser’s view, remembering is purposive because it is done with a definite goal in mind, it is personal because it is done by a specific individual with unique ways of doing and telling, and it is particular because it is done on a distinct occasion within specific constraints in order to achieve particular goals. Others such as Hirst and Manier (1995) emphasize that mechanisms of memory cannot be separated from the broader goals the learner has in mind. Second, as a result of his own investigations with dyads trying to recount past experiences, Bartlett (1932, 95) downgraded the view that memory is primarily an individual affair: ‘There is no doubt that much human remembering is influenced directly and strongly by factors which are social in origin. The influence of these factors may be obscured by the ordinary laboratory methods of the study of memory, because of the exceedingly artificial character of the material which is used.’ Bartlett also anticipated much current discussion by emphasizing the constructive nature of memory: ‘The first notion to get rid of is that memory is primarily or literally reduplicative, or reproductive. In a world of constantly changing environment, literal recall is extraordinarily unimportant’ (1932, 204); furthermore, and ‘remembering appears to be far more decisively an affair of construction rather than one of mere reproduction’ (ibid., 205). He then linked the notion of reconstruction to an affective element that he called attitude, which he saw as tending to produce ‘stereotyped and conventional reproductions which adequately serve all normal needs, though they are very unfaithful to their originals’ (ibid., 55). His belief was that ‘when a subject is being asked to remember, very often the first thing that emerges is something of the nature of attitude. The recall is then a construction, made largely on the basis of this attitude, and its general effect is that of a justification of the attitude’ (ibid., 207). At this juncture, one can only wonder at the

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direction that theory and research might have taken over the past sixty years had Bartlett’s work been pursued with the vigour that characterized other streams of psychological work. Findings over the past few years along the lines enunciated by Bartlett have caused many to reconsider the nature and role of memory in humans. Recent emphases on situated cognition and contextual learning, with the accompanying implications for memory structures and functions, follow the general path of inquiry enunciated many years ago by Bartlett (see Brown, Collins & Duguid, 1989; Lave, 1988; Resnick, 1987). These contemporary investigators have endorsed two notions: that cognition is ‘situated,’ or contextually tied; and that memories are being constructed continuously over time rather than accumulated on one or two occasions. The results of this orientation to learning and memory can be seen in the work of Lave, Murtaugh, and de la Rocha (1984) and Saxe (1988). In what is becoming a classic study, Lave and colleagues examined characteristics of arithmetic problem solving in supermarkets. Their data displayed influences of learning and memory in real settings that prompted the generation and resolution of problems that would not have arisen in more artificial school tasks. Saxe (1988) examined the practices of child candy sellers in Brazil. His results showed that these children created mathematical systems that differed from the one taught in school. These systems reflected both the sociocultural processes at play on the street, and the constructive nature of remembering. Additional studies have investigated some of the other themes addressed by Bartlett. For example, Verdonik (1988) argued that memory processes operating during social interaction cannot be reduced to individual processes, that dyadic interaction is crucial in the joint reconstruction of remembered events, and that social interaction promotes continued memory development in adults as well as children. This type of ongoing work, which views memory as a reconstructive, sociocultural activity, promises to make the study of memory a problem-driven rather than paradigm-driven enterprise (see Perlmutter, 1988). Ongoing research continues to strongly support the notion that memory is a dynamic and constructive activity. But to what extent does the bulk of recent neuropsychological evidence support Kinsbourne’s (1988) confirming assessment in this regard? According to Gerald Edelman (1987), who sustains Kinsbourne’s analysis, the brain is a selective system that operates according to Darwinian principles of selection and survival. The brain is organized by dynamic processes into numerous

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functional degenerate (that is, overlapping) groups of hundreds to thousands of highly interconnected neurons, and these groups serve as the basis for learning and memory. These neuronal groups, which are formed within each individual by both genetic and environmental influences, lead to functional structures that differ – potentially widely – from person to person. In this view, the neural basis of behaviour does not involve specific wiring patterns in the brain, as has been supposed by many information theorists. Here there is no electrician just as there is no homunculus. Furthermore, it is postulated that different structural mechanisms underlie short-term and long-term changes in memory. Edelman (1987, 241) sees memory itself as ‘the enhanced ability to categorize or generalize associatively, not the storage of features or attributes of objects in a list.’ This assumption supports Bartlett’s (1932) views, but limits itself to perceptual categories and makes the more specific proposal that a specific process of organization, a global mapping, is necessary for recategorical memory. Edelman argues that a full representation of an object is not stored, ‘only those synaptic alterations related to procedures yielding exemplary combinations, most frequent combinations, and disjunctive aspects in a degenerate fashion’ (1987, 266). Moreover, ‘it is the complex of capacities to carry out a particular set of procedures (or acts) leading to categorization that is recollected’ (ibid., 267). In this view, memory is not so much the storage of fixed images in the brain as it is a constantly evolving ability to categorize objects and events in ever more complex ways. This position parallels the psychosemiotic perspective that endorses semiosis and the ever-developing sign. Reed (1989) has taken a less extreme view than Edelman by arguing that categorization is not a prerequisite for perception so long as bundles of environmental information are ecologically coherent in and of themselves. The views just cited support the notion that remembering is not the specific recall of an image stored somewhere in the human brain; rather, it constitutes procedures by which specific aspects of the surrounding environment are organized into categories (cf., Rosenfield, 1988). The resulting memories tend to be categorical recollections grounded in particular contexts rather than specific recollections of isolated details. Thus the categories we construct in our everyday living and learning are extremely important to our resulting memories (e.g., Lakoff, 1987; Rosch & Lloyd, 1978). A semiotic interpretation is that although specific items in memory may be organized according to assorted meaning structures, the act or process of remembering in context is more important to everyday functioning than static entities buried somewhere in the brain or body.

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Given the existing research on memory, a number of implications follow for teachers trying to enhance their students’ learning over the long term: • Make sure the students are paying attention to the task or activity at hand. • Provide multiple opportunities for repetition and review of new material; use acronyms (such as ‘NAFTA’ for the North American Free Trade Agreement) and mnemonics (such as ‘Roy G. Biv’ for the colours of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet). • Help students make connections between new information and what they already know. • Use variety, curiosity, and surprise in the lessons. • Focus on meaning, not memorization. • Have students interact with new information in culturally relevant tasks that require active, bodily engagement; remember that memory is often bound up in activities and therefore is an external as well as an internal (that is, mental) phenomenon. • Because much (some people would say ‘all’) learning is essentially sociocultural, assign some group tasks and activities that cannot be completed by one person working alone and in which no single person has all the necessary information. Testing and Assessment In formal Western education, one of a teacher’s key responsibilities is to try to assess the learning and progress of the students. But how should teachers do this? What are the signs of learning to which they should pay attention, and which they should then assess (i.e., gathering information on student accomplishments) and evaluate (i.e., judging these accomplishments)? What will be their major assignments and projects? What signs of learning do various methods of testing attend to? Will credit be offered for class participation or effort? If so, how will effort, for example, be combined with achievement marks to create a final grade? Will the teachers be able to justify to principals, parents, and especially students their grading and assessment methods? How will teaching be affected by the grading scheme? Of course, there are many answers to these questions depending on the course objectives and on how teachers intend to weight and assess the different objectives. Some

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highlights of testing and assessment will be reviewed briefly here; interested readers should consult the many sources that consider this important topic in detail. In the first place, there are two main forms of assessment: formative and summative. Formative assessment is a diagnostic approach to determining what students now know and what more needs to be done to enhance their learning. These tests may be given at the very beginning of a unit and are not graded – an approach that serves to reduce student anxiety. Results of the assessment are used to shape the coming instruction. Summative assessment, on the other hand, is applied at the end of the instruction to determine the extent to which students have attained the course objectives (and, incidentally, how well the teachers have taught towards those objectives). These tests or products are graded and contribute to the students’ final marks in a course. Secondly, several different approaches to assessment, be they formative or summative in nature, are used regularly by teachers. Criterion-referenced assessment involves comparing a student’s level of mastery to established criteria relevant to the curriculum. Typically, there is a list of accomplishments to be realized and the quality required for particular grades is specified. Conceivably, every student in a class could receive an ‘A’ if all criteria were met at a high level of mastery. Norm-referenced assessment involves to comparing a student’s performance to that of a broad sample of other students of the same age or in the same grade. For example, a teacher may compare students’ scores on a multiple-choice test of science knowledge that is given nationally or internationally. Self-referenced assessment involves comparing students with themselves across time. These tests are developed by teachers to ascertain the progress made by individual students. For example, a teacher could compare the written work of a student with attention-deficit problems prior to and one month after helping him to plan his compositions. This comparison would show the progress the student is making even though this onemonth intervention might not yet have created written work at grade level, or produced writing that contained all the elements of a good essay. Curriculum-based assessment involves ongoing analyses of students’ work as they deal with curricular demands from day to day. Such assessment includes observing many signs of students at work – that is, looking for the conditions under which they work best, watching their participation during small-group activities, listening when they think aloud in pairs, and so on. This form of assessment also includes examining their products (such as homework assignments, major assignments, and tests),

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talking with them, or interviewing them about their understandings. Curriculum-based assessment can often be more useful and comprehensible to teachers than norm-referenced tests, which may not be closely related to the locally approved curriculum. In passing, classroom assessments continue to be based on the cognitive domain of Bloom’s taxonomy (Bloom et al., 1956). Here, from lower to higher levels, test questions are distributed among six categories: knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. However, given the emphasis in this book on the multiple signs of learning and knowing, it would be remiss not to remind teachers to engage with two other learning taxonomies as well: the affective domain (Krathwohl, Bloom & Masia, 1964) and the psychomotor domain (Harrow, 1972). Over the past two decades, performance assessment (or authentic assessment) has been used more and more for assessing student learning (e.g., Wolf et al., 1991). This approach involves students as active participants, creating answers, products, and performances to demonstrate what they have learned. Performance assessment tasks are often based on realworld problems. Traditional means of assessment, such as fill-in-the-blanks, true-false, and multiple-choice, have often been criticized by educators. Often, these sorts of tests offer poor signs of learning because they provide constrained simulations of the performances in which we want students to engage both inside the classroom and outside in society. Multiple-choice and short-answer evaluations rarely provide evidence that students can engage in complex performances and problem solving because these tests focus on the recognition and production of correct answers (Camp, 1992). Also, their lack of context and meaning tend to disadvantage exceptional learners. With increasing emphasis on teachers delivering developmental programs and being accountable for student learning, new approaches to assessment are necessary. Performance assessments can accommodate students with various exceptionalities and strengths in the different signways. For example, teachers can ask: ‘What kind of task performance is realistic for a student who is blind, or who has high bodily-kinesthetic abilities?’ From this discussion, it follows that methods of assessment should be adapted to suit multiple representational forms (such as those of the signways). Preferably, these forms should be derived from genuine cultural activities (cf. Armstrong, 2000; Campbell, Campbell & Dickinson, 1999). Thus a science teacher might assign (or even better, have students create) a project that represents what scientists actually do instead of

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Project The following edited item appeared several years ago in a widely distributed public newspaper. However, all names and places have been altered. Six teenagers who toilet-papered their school gymnasium on prom night will have their grades lowered as part of their punishment, and parents say that’s too harsh. ‘I’m not saying I don’t want my child punished, but I’m asking for a different type of punishment that doesn’t affect his grade,’ said Candy Varna, whose son, Scott, hung toilet paper outside Seal Cove High School. Despite protests from parents, the school board voted Thursday night to uphold the penalties imposed in the wake of the May 16 prank in this town of 600.

Discuss this incident with several of your classmates. Among the questions you should consider are the following: Do you support Ms Varna or the school board with respect to the grade-lowering incident? Under what conditions should grades be lowered (or raised, for that matter)? What other issues are involved in this case?

focusing on textbook problems with single right answers. This emphasis seems especially appropriate for those individuals who will never do well on the usual academic fare and who will not continue on to employment or higher education where only those attributes are prized. In their study of an exemplary grade eleven manufacturing technology class, Hill and Smith (1998) found that the teacher demanded much more of students than linguistic and logical-mathematical products. Student assessments were based on a variety of achievements, such as weekly reports and portfolios, final design reports, final product assessments of projects, formative quizzes, a summative exam, and class and group participation of many kinds. Performance assessments are consistent with current conceptions of learning in which meaningful teaching engages students actively in learning. This means it is important to encourage students to discuss their learning, role-play it, explain it to others, relate new information to personal experience, and apply information to new situations. Stu-

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dents learn better when they know the goals for learning and the characteristics of good performance and understanding (Vygotsky, 1978). Thus goals and standards should be discussed, and students should have opportunities for reflection and self- and peer evaluation. Because the essence of learning is coming to understand when and how to adapt what one knows (Brown, Collins & Duguid, 1989), students need realworld contexts comprised of relevant signs. We have seen that learning is semiosis and a sociocultural construction (Rogoff & Lave, 1984); this suggests that students need to work and think with peers, assume a variety of roles, and be evaluated on group processes and products. Assessments consistent with these implications would include applying knowledge to new situations, self- and peer evaluation, authentic assessment tasks, and some group evaluation. The act of assessment can also be a learning opportunity for students. Challenging but culturally relevant assessment tasks motivate students and enable them to monitor and take responsibility for their own learning. Role playing and demonstration are two of the most authentic forms of performance assessment. Problem-solving scenarios can be administered as rehearsed or unrehearsed role plays. Demonstrations enable students to show their mastery of subject-area content and procedures. Portfolios are usually files or folders that contain a purposeful collection of a student’s work assembled to monitor growth in what the student knows and can do over time. It is believed that one of the great benefits of portfolio assessment is that student reflection on the selection and evaluation of entries can be guided by discussions with teachers; in this way, students become ‘informed and thoughtful assessors of their own histories’ (Wolf, 1989, 36). Proponents of performance assessments cite many advantages. They see this approach as a means to motivate students to learn and schools to teach and be accountable for concepts and skills that students need for modern society. They also see performance assessments and current views of learning as empowering both teachers and students. Teachers enjoy better instructional tools and a new emphasis on teaching relevant knowledge, and students take more responsibility for their own learning and preparation for adult life. Of course, performance assessments also have critics, especially among adherents to the psychometric tradition with its focus on generalizability and reliability. According to this view, performance assessments can accurately measure outcomes that they closely resemble but may not generalize to more global outcomes. For example, in a career

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development curriculum, students may be competent in short, simulated interviews in the classroom but not show the same confidence and competence in an interview with a panel of adults in a corporate office. Also, different judges may vary in their assessments of the same performance or portfolio. Even most critics, however, agree that the limitations of performance assessments are not a threat to their use in classroom assessment by teachers and students. The limitations cause concern when it come to ‘high stakes’ assessment – that is, when the outcomes are used to compare school boards or provinces, or to determine which students graduate from high school or receive acceptance to university (Rudner & Boston, 1994). Teachers who wish to implement performance assessments may find it helpful to start on a small scale, with one unit or class. Working with at least one colleague will provide support and many more ideas than working alone. The first step is to articulate the desired outcomes of the program and to identify complex authentic performances and processes (Wiggins, 1989). The second step is to state the specific requirements of performances, including the knowledge, skills, and processes that students must demonstrate. The third step is to develop tests of performance that further learning as well as demonstrate it. Characteristics of typical student products may be used to refine the specific requirements from step two into clear scoring rubrics – that is, rating scales with several categories for judging student performance. This is more difficult than carrying out the activity. Then requirements and tests of performance should be modified to accommodate the varying strengths of the students in the class. Such accommodations can be made without sacrificing the existing standards. The fourth step is to educate colleagues, administrators, parents, and students. The objective is to have teachers and students working together and using performance assessments to accurately assess their own work on a regular basis. General Principles of Teaching The psychosemiotic approach to education endorses the view that the signways and their functions are composed of a complex and continuous blending of both culture and biology. Research on the brain over the past forty years offers implications for education that are grounded in biological predispositions and constraints and that also support Peircean theory (e.g., Diamond & Hopson, 1998; Tomlinson & Kalbfleisch, 1998; Wolfe & Brandt, 1998). These implications include the following:

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• Teachers should provide positive emotional support to students. • They should stimulate all the senses over time. • They should allow the students substantial amounts of social interaction. • They should promote the development of every signway. • They should allow students to be active participants rather than passive observers. • They should permit students to choose and then learn from their tasks. This emphasis in education on addressing every signway, promoting meaning making through diverse forms of signs, and embracing the embodiment of learning or semiosis reflects our evolutionary history. Classroom conditions that are consistent with both an evolutionary perspective and Peircean theory include the following: • Teachers should not require all students in a class to learn the same set of abstract knowledge in the same way at the same time. • Students should be allowed to make some major curriculum choices and to advance at their own pace within these choices. • Students should be allowed to work with peers and adults on activities that are relevant to them. • Student experience and bodily engagement with these tasks should be promoted. • It should be recognized that students have a variety of talents, all of which can be used in the supportive classroom. • Students should be permitted to work alongside adult role models, usually the teachers, who should demonstrate learning in action. • Students should be provided with opportunities to learn more about their communities and the different age groups that constitute these communities (Bernhard, 1988; H.A. Smith, 2001). From Peircean semiotics, from qualities of the signways, from evolutionary history, and from research in exemplary classrooms (e.g., Hill & Smith, 1998), a psychosemiotic perspective on education produces at least five important implications for educational theory and practice. These are listed below, without further amplification until chapter 7: (a) formal education is the process of generating meanings, (b) meaning is dependent on culture and context, (c) meaning-making is a collective and cultural process, (d) meaning-making can also be regarded as

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an individual process, and (e) meaning is established in every signway (cf. H.A. Smith, 2001). These major implications feature meaning-making through signs as the essence of education while admitting disparate kinds of experiences as legitimate forms of learning. In these ways, forms of apprenticeship, vicarious learning, and listening to the wisdom of elders are just as central to learning as paper-and-pencil exercises. In addition, having students represent the ‘same’ meaning in different signways through the process known as transmediation (e.g., Semali, 2002; Siegel, 1995; Suhor, 1984) offers further important experiences in learning and using the signs of culture. In closing, three final points should be made. First, the psychosemiotic view grounded in Peircean notions offers a general approach to education more than it does a bag of tricks for surviving in class. That is, the perspective offers a theoretical standpoint more than it does specific routines to use while teaching. Second, educational practices are by their very nature supremely semiotic even though schooling agents tend not to think of signs or to be consciously aware of semiotics. Third, too many in-school tasks obstruct the forms of semiosis necessary to support growing competence in the full array of human signways. Tightly regulating student behaviour, preventing surprise, and excluding signways such as the social-personal reduce the effectiveness of schooling.

Selected Reading Armstrong, T. (2000). Multiple intelligences in the classroom (2nd ed.). Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. This text summarizes the MI theory and shows how the MI perspective can be applied in classroom contexts to reach nearly all learners. Topics include curriculum development, teaching strategies, classroom management, and exceptionalities. Educational Leadership A highly readable American journal with many articles on learning and recent thinking in education. Another accessible journal is the Elementary School Journal, which despite its name contains fine review papers on topics relevant to high school teachers. Gardner, H. (1983). Frames of mind: The theory of multiple intelligences. New York: Basic Books. Still the best place to start to understand Gardner’s theory, which claims that

224 Teaching Adolescents everyone has seven (now eight) different intelligences across which differing capabilities are possible. Gardner (1999) describes the eighth intelligence, the naturalistic. Konner, M. (2002). The tangled wing: Biological constraints on the human spirit (2nd ed.). New York: Times Books/Henry Holt. The author presents an evolutionary argument that humans are mainly bundles of motives and emotions, with cognition very secondary. He argues that brains think with and through emotion and that meaning is inherently emotional. A fine review of the assorted human emotions. Semali, L.M. (2002). Transmediation in the classroom: A semiotics-based media literacy framework. New York: Peter Lang. Presents the theory and some (elementary only) classroom examples of transmediation. The second half of the book focuses on media literacy and the multiple ways of meaning making through various forms of media. Websites In general, check various websites on the Internet for curriculum ideas that engage each of the topics addressed in this chapter. Simply enter search items such as ‘multiple intelligences’ or ‘problem solving’ or ‘motivation’ to become current in the topics.

7 Signs of Exceptionality

Christina Watching Chris [a prepubescent deaf-blind girl] walk, I saw clearly that her arm movements were spastic, her gait wide, and her movements and balance awkward. She also did not seem to walk purposively – that is, she would walk a few steps, stop, bend over or stare into the sun, run, twist around, laugh, sit down, get up, walk, and so forth. She seemed to enjoy the physical sensations involved in her admittedly ‘abnormal’ techniques for ambulation. While it is clear that she does not walk correctly, it is equally clear that it is only incorrect with respect to the dominant seer-hearer culture’s version of walking – a version, by virtue of her impaired sensors, almost inaccessible to her. Most important, while watching her, we were prompted to ask ourselves, Who is getting more from the activity of walking, Chris or us? It is no great cognitive accomplishment, no mystery, no great analytic task to watch her walk (eat, play, excrete, and so on) and to find her actions ‘faulted,’ ‘wrong,’ ‘abnormal,’ and so forth. Any competent cultural ‘member’ – that is, anyone who understands the rational and socially sanctioned set of activities for which ‘walking’ (eating, playing, excreting) is an appropriate name – could and would find Chris’s walking abnormal. The question is, how should we evaluate what we see? [Or, restated, to which signs should we be paying attention?] Goode (1994, 28–9)


The Concept of Exceptionality Because we are all different from one another, we could argue with some justification that we are all exceptional in one way or another. However, in educational circles, exceptionality has been understood to include

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only those children who are different enough to fall outside the norm in some medical or culturally determined characteristic or ability. Hence, if exceptional means more different than average, the next two logical questions are these: On what grounds are these differences established? And who determines those grounds? Or – more germane to the semiotic perspective – what are the signs of exceptionality, and who decides on those signs? In this chapter these questions are addressed in order. First, we examine some current definitions, distinctions, and cases concerning exceptionality; then we consider the perspective of those researchers in disability studies who adopt a critical view of the ideas and procedures associated with exceptionality (e.g., Rogers & Swadener, 2001; Skrtic, 1995). The above case of Christina should give us pause with regard to how we approach and understand (that is, read the signs of) adolescents assigned one label or another in the secondary school setting. In most educational and psychological jurisdictions, social agents use at least three operating models to determine exceptionality. The first of these is the statistical model, which employs assumptions of the normal curve in determining who should be termed exceptional. In this model, those who score at the extreme ends of standardized tests are assigned this label. For example, adolescents who present very high or very low scores on the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale (WAIS-III) are considered exceptional. Depending on the scores they attain, these individuals are called either gifted or whatever the latest term is for slow or delayed. (The traditional term mental retardation is still used in some jurisdictions, including the United States.) The second model of exceptionality can be termed the sociocultural model. Here cultural or racial minorities, for example, are exceptional by virtue of their cultural background and first language spoken. Newly arrived students from impoverished countries, who perhaps have never been to school before and who do not know the rules of school, often fall into this category. These classes of individuals have long been disproportionately represented in special classes. The third model is the medical model, for which exceptionalities are determined by the presence of ‘disease,’ including sensory and genetic conditions. Thus individuals diagnosed as having cerebral palsy or who are hard of hearing are labelled exceptional by the medical model. In many cases, individuals are said to be exceptional on the basis of diagnoses offered by at least two of these models. For example, adolescents who are assigned such terms as learning disability and developmental delay may satisfy criteria from both statistical and medical models of exceptionality.

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The categories of exceptionality adopted in different educational jurisdictions vary for assorted cultural, political, or legal reasons. As one example, the following five classifications address diverse sets of signs and offer one array of exceptionalities at school (see Ontario College of Teachers, 2002): 1 Behaviour. This category includes so-called learning disorders characterized by specific behaviour problems that adversely affect educational performance over time. Given prevailing classroom norms, this category is suggested by the sociocultural and (sometimes) the medical models of exceptionality. 2 Communication. This category includes such diagnoses as autism, deafness, hard of hearing, language impairment, speech impairment, and learning disability. Typically this last term is defined as a significant discrepancy between academic achievement and assessed intellectual ability. Any single model of exceptionality – or more usually, any combination of these models – can be applied to this category. 3 Intellectual. This category includes giftedness, mild intellectual disabilities, and developmental disabilities. The statistical and medical models can be applied to this category, although the sociocultural model may also apply when mild intellectual disabilities are considered. 4 Physical. This category, based on the medical model, includes all forms of physical disability including blindness or low vision. 5 Multiple. This final category may include a combination of learning disability and other disorders, impairments, and physical disabilities. Any one of the models of exceptionality may apply here. Often, students labelled as exceptional are those who differ from the norm in their ability to function in language and mathematics, the proverbial three R’s. Hence, a gifted student may perform very well on school tasks requiring high linguistic capability while showing deficits in the social-personal signway, while another student said to have a learning disability may function well in the bodily-kinesthetic signway but show substantial weakness in written language comprehension. Given the school’s emphasis on reading and writing, little specific attention may be given to the gifted student who is able to function well in the linguistic signway, while substantial resources may be available to those said to have disabilities of one kind or another. For this reason, we are much more apt to hear about ‘disabilities’ than ‘exceptionalities’ in today’s school system and to hear disability referring to the inability to

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perform well in language and math rather than in, say, art or drama. In the opening vignette, Christina clearly is exceptional and ‘disabled’ according to the medical and sociocultural models because of her deafness and blindness. However, she could also be labelled ‘disabled’ by the statistical model, and would fall into several of the categories of exceptionality presented above. Although her current language and math abilities are likely to be in the ‘disabled’ range at school, we still do not know enough about her to presume which other capabilities may be impaired, and which may have been spared. Special Education and Inclusion The history of special education (that is, schooling adapted for young people judged to be exceptional by the above models and designations) varies from jurisdiction to jurisdiction. The situation in Ontario will be outlined here as one case study. Clearly, teachers from other regions and countries should become informed about their own local circumstances. When the famous (or infamous) Hall-Dennis Report on the aims and objectives of education in Ontario schools was published in 1968, the authors saw all children, including exceptional learners, as individual learners whose needs must be met within the public school system. The report stressed that all learners with special needs, except for the most severely handicapped, should be schooled with everyone else (Morgan, 2003). However, change was slow in coming, and as a result, throughout the 1970s, separate special-education classes continued to exist in most Ontario schools. Elsewhere, important advances were being made on behalf of people labelled exceptional or disabled. For example, in 1975 the United Nations came out with the Declaration on the Rights of Disabled Persons, which included these rights: to live in the community, to receive education, to work, to vote, to marry, to become a parent, to enter into contracts, and to have representation in the courts. This declaration led to developments in individual countries; for example the 1977 Canadian Human Rights Act stated that no one should be discriminated against for reasons of physical or mental disability. Similar acts were passed in the United States and Great Britain. On 2 December 1980, Bill 82 became law in Ontario. This bill required school boards to develop special education programs and services for exceptional students within five years (Morgan, 2003). This bill had three major results: many children entered the school system who had been

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educated in other institutions or who had never gone to school; teachers were obliged to learn new skills in order to deal with children’s needs of a sort they had never before encountered; and school administrators found themselves compelled to provide social and instructional supports for many students who had never before been part of the regular school system. Bill 82 endorsed the following five key principles (ibid., 11): 1 Universal access. The right of all exceptional students to have access to a school program. 2 Education at public expense. The right to receive special education programming without payment of a fee charged to the pupil or family. 3 Ongoing identification, continuous assessment, and review. The right of pupils to be referred to an identification placement review committee (IPRC), where their learning needs would be determined on an ongoing basis – specifically, where their specific exceptionalities would be identified, their needs assessed, and their progress reviewed. 4 Appropriate program. The right of exceptional pupils to programs that include plans containing specific objectives as well as outlines of services to meet their needs. 5 Appeal process. The right of exceptional pupils to have their interests represented, including the right of parents to appeal the identification and placement of – or to request a review on behalf of – their exceptional child. Despite initial problems in implementing inclusive schooling for all students, special education services worked well during the 1980s to serve the needs of exceptional children and adolescents. In passing, inclusive schools have also been referred to as mainstreamed or integrated schools, although inclusion can be seen as a further step along the relevant continuum in that it addresses participation as well as placement in regular classrooms. Unfortunately, the 1990s brought a different scenario. In 1993 the Ontario government cut $350 million from elementary and secondary education; this has been followed since 1995 by a further $2.3 billion reduction, taking inflation and enrolment into account. These cuts were felt most keenly in special education, as large cuts were made to programs and services for exceptional students and as identified students were placed in regular classrooms without proper programs and supports. At the same time, pupil/teacher ratios increased, with further chal-

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The Language of Exceptionality As postmodern scholars emphasize, language strongly influences our ideas and attitudes. Indeed, negative attitudes and stereotypes are among the barriers that most people with exceptionalities must face in gaining full participation and acceptance in society. In recent years, special educators have begun to use descriptive terms that recognize the person first and the exceptionality second, instead of direct labels that may carry negative connotations (e.g., Meece, 1997). However, scholars in disability studies (e.g., Rogers & Swadener, 2001) – an area to be considered later in this chapter – take the position that exceptionalities are first and foremost sociocultural constructions; thus they use expressions that reflect that situation. The following are some examples of terms that reflect the three orientations: Traditional

Mainstream

Disability studies

the blind wheel-chair bound hearing-impaired epileptic learning disabled retarded

person who is blind person who uses a wheelchair person who is hard of hearing person who has epilepsy person with a learning disability person with an intellectual disability

person diagnosed with blindness person who uses a wheelchair person diagnosed as hard of hearing person diagnosed with epilepsy person said to have a learning disability person said to have an intellectual exceptionality

lenges for teachers to instruct everyone assigned to their classrooms. Only in 2002, when the funding crisis reached a new peak, did the Ontario government begin to restore some of the funding removed earlier. But much of the damage to special education programming and services remains to be undone. In general, the development of inclusive schools reflects movements in all parts of most contemporary societies to support full participation by all citizens. Schools have a unique role to play in educating individuals with exceptionalities so that they can accept roles as functional adults, and in educating those without exceptionalities to accept and foster inclusion. Fullwood (1990), an Australian educator, has made the case that inclusion (called integration by the author) is about people with exceptionalities having the same chances and choices in life as other people to participate in activities and become members of com-

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munities. She focuses on both physical and social relationships, where ‘physical’ refers to people being in the same places participating in the same activities, and ‘social’ refers to people interacting and being interdependent. The goal of inclusive schools is to ensure that all students, whether or not they carry any label of exceptionality, are accepted as equal members, are recognized for what they have to offer to the school community, and are provided with appropriate educational programs along with any necessary supports needed for them to be successful learners (Stainback & Stainback, 1992). To date, inclusive education has proved more easy to achieve in elementary than in secondary schools. Perhaps this reflects the differing cultures of teaching the child versus teaching the subject. Secondary schools tend to pride themselves on pushing through substantial amounts of content – on ‘covering’ the curriculum – rather than on developing each student’s potential to its maximum. Furthermore, the departmentalized nature of secondary school makes it more difficult for a single teacher to become acquainted with a student’s full set of interests and abilities. Nevertheless, assorted instructional strategies (several of which will be reviewed below) seem to work well in inclusive secondary schools (see Harris, 1994; Putnam, 1993; Woolfolk, Winne & Perry, 2003). Coping inside the Inclusive Classroom According to Emery, Haskell, and Telfer (2003), from which much of the material in this section has been adapted, teachers face substantial challenges in meeting special needs in the classroom setting. To begin, teachers should be aware of the differences among three distinct courses of action available to them in their special classes: accommodations, modifications, and strategies. These interventions will be examined next. Accommodations Accommodations refer to the teaching strategies, supports, and services the student needs in order to access the curriculum and to display learning. However, accommodations do not affect the learning expectations for the grade in question; rather, they are intended to enhance or improve the educational experience for exceptional students without such structural changes. The following are some key features of accom-

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modations, which take substantial advantage of capabilities available through the various signways (see chapter 5): • Accommodation to process includes, for example, the use of taped books, a reading buddy, or a mathematics grid. • Accommodation to product includes oral reports, group presentations, or illustrated projects. • Accommodation to evaluation includes oral or open-book tests or extra time. • Accommodation to environment includes preferred seating or a study carrel. • Accommodations may include various types of assistive technology such as voice recognition software, a text reader, or a text scanner. • Examples of accommodation include slant boards, enlargements, and Braille writers (for low vision); concrete materials and chunking of work (for mild intellectual disability); and scribes for writing, oral evaluations, and tapes (for learning disability). Other accommodations are listed in table 7.1, where the focus is on areas of perceived student weakness rather than on any label of exceptionality or disability that the student may have acquired on his or her way through school. Modifications Modifications refer to structural changes made to the grade-level expectations of a subject in order to meet the needs of an individual student (Emery, Haskell & Telfer, 2003). Modified expectations – necessary when the student is unable to satisfy the regular curriculum – may be drawn from a grade below the current placement. Significant changes can be made to the number or complexity of the grade-level expectations; these will be outlined in the individual education plan (IEP) that is required for each special needs student. Forms of modification include the following: • modification to the focus of instruction; that is, modifications are made to essential skills or functional academics • modification to expectations; here, expectations are modified to significantly below grade level

Signs of Exceptionality 233 Table 7.1. Ideas for accommodation in the inclusive classroom Presentation of material • allow for oral administration of tests • break assignments into smaller segments or shorter tasks • present material at a rate that can be followed by special students • reduce the number of concepts considered at any one time Consideration of the environment • use study carrels • provide opportunities for movement • use preferential seating • use checklists to help the students get organized • keep the student’s work area clear of unnecessary materials Focus student attention • use physical proximity and touch to help the student focus • give advance warning when a transition is going to occur • make positive, personal comments when the student shows interest • make frequent checks for progress on assignments Assist reluctant starters • introduce the assignments in sequential steps • check for student understanding of instructions • provide immediate feedback and reinforcers • provide a checklist for long or detailed tasks • give a personal sign for students to begin their work For visual motor integration and written expression problems • allow for spelling errors • allow student to use either cursive or script • avoid pressure of speed and accuracy • provide copies of notes • accept key responses instead of complete sentences For visual processing problems • have student verbalize the instructions before beginning the task • provide clear and well-defined worksheets • avoid having students copy extensive notes from the board • avoid the colour purple when providing copies For language processing problems • use written directions to supplement oral directions • familiarize students with any new vocabulary before beginning the lesson • keep statements short and to the point • use visual aids such as charts and graphs • restate or paraphrase information

234 Teaching Adolescents Table 7.1

(Concluded)

For organizational problems • provide a regular and established daily routine • provide a specific place for turning in completed assignments • provide clear rules and consistently enforce them • create student contracts and use rewards when contracts are completed Source: Emery, Haskell, & Telfer, 2003, A2–A3

• degree of modification, where modifications involve duration, intensity, and frequency of instruction • modifications may be applied to daily living skills; functional academics (for developmental disability); communication systems with pictures or symbols (for autism); and social skills, self-control, and anger management (for behaviour problems). Strategies Strategies are skills or techniques used by students to assist learning (ibid., 2003). The following are key features of strategies: • They are individualized to suit student strengths, modality preferences, and developmental levels. • They are often related to the retention and retrieval of information, although meaningful activities permit use of environmental memory aids and props. • They often include the use of various cognitive strategies, such as mnemonics, acronyms, highlighting, and colour coding. • Strategies include any multimodal, multisignway approach that involves number lines, tape recorders, playdough, bodily engagement, and subvocal techniques. Promoting Social Development and Social Acceptance Researchers and teachers agree that with the growing diversity in inclusive secondary classrooms, many students lack the social development necessary to handle the accompanying social demands. Exceptional students are more likely than most to lack social development and social acceptance skills. There are two approaches to promoting social development and social acceptance: informally promoting a climate of accep-

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tance and respect by interacting in this way with all members of the class, and adopting formal teaching approaches that foster collaboration and interdependence in learning. In this section these two approaches will be described, challenges to collaborative learning in secondary classrooms will be considered, and suggestions on how teachers can overcome these challenges will be offered. Social development refers to social competence and to appropriate social behaviours that enhance an adolescent’s interpersonal relationships. Social acceptance refers to responses and evaluations by peers as to whether they approve of a student’s social behaviours and include that adolescent in social and learning activities (Dodge, 1985). It has often been noted that youth with poor peer adjustment are at greater risk for criminality and for dropping out of school. More recently, social skills have also become more important to successful participation in the workplace. It is important that educators try to enhance both the social development of youth with exceptionalities and their social acceptance by peers, because neither alone is sufficient, according to research conducted by Bryan (1991) and Vaughn (1991). The implication is that secondary teachers must first engage in formal instruction of social development and social acceptance with the entire class. By drawing attention to these topics, formal teaching promotes collaborative learning and interdependence among heterogeneous groups of students (e.g., Baron & Brown, 1991). Of course, the most effective teaching occurs in a context of cooperation, community, and peer support. Here, teachers are able to engage in informal teaching of social development and acceptance of diversity in the way they conduct their classrooms, express their expectations, and model social acceptance. Using Labels with Exceptional Adolescents Thus far in the chapter, we have sidestepped the direct use of labels (such as ‘diagnosed as hard of hearing’ or ‘said to have a learning disability’) with exceptional adolescents. This has been done for two main reasons: educators, parents, and peers too often have trouble seeing past the label and thereby fail to uncover deeper qualities of the individual who has been assigned it; and more significantly, applying a label to an individual has little or no direct connection with the teaching and instruction that is most appropriate for that individual. Instead, it is important to determine, through reading the available signs, the strengths and weaknesses

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of the exceptional person at hand so that an appropriate program can be developed and taught. However, in the school system as it exists today, labels are used extensively; in fact they are considered necessary by the system’s agents for some exceptional individuals to receive the help and support they need in order to function in school. Furthermore, special education courses for teachers typically take the ‘disability of the week’ approach to instruction, thereby implicitly placing the label ahead of the individual despite claims to the contrary. So in this section we shall highlight the use of labels by considering the cases of four exceptional adolescents with specific diagnoses and the instructional strategies being used by their teachers. After this, some of the other labels in common use today will be listed. Jennifer, Diagnosed as Hard of Hearing Jennifer is a tenth-grade student who has been diagnosed as hard of hearing. She is not deaf but learns by listening intently and by looking closely. She can hear muffled sounds, but some higher frequencies, such as those in high-pitched voices, are almost inaudible to her. Jennifer wears an almost-invisible amplification aid that magnifies sounds in the environment, including the obnoxious noises created when classmates drag their desks across the floor or tap their pencils on their desks. Most of her teachers wear small microphones that send wireless signals to Jennifer’s hearing aid. However, she is excellent at reading speech by watching the speaker’s face, which is why she prefers to sit directly in front of the teacher. She is also quick to turn around to face any of her fellow students who are speaking for the moment. Her speech is quite clear, although it is sometimes difficult to understand at first. Most of her teachers are very good at summarizing the recent discussion and listing main points on the chalkboard. Others are particularly good at providing various forms of visual representations, whether on the overhead, on handout sheets, or via videotape. During the homeroom period each day, a peer tutor from the graduating class comes by to ensure that Jennifer is caught up on her assigned homework and understands the previous day’s content. Scott, Diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome Fifteen-year-old Scott used to puzzle his teachers. He displayed remarkable long-term memory and an IQ in the gifted range for language skills, but he had to be told over and over the rules for lining up at recess. He

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appeared clumsy and often showed poorly coordinated movements and odd postures. Because of his apparent bad behaviour in class, he was sent to the school psychologist for further attention; there he received the diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome or high-functioning autism (AS/HFA). His teachers then also learned that, notwithstanding the distinction often made between Asperger’s syndrome and autism, modern researchers (e.g., Baron-Cohen, 2000; Wing, 1991) consider Asperger’s syndrome one of the autism spectrum disorders (ASDs). These researchers also caution that when Asperger’s syndrome is not seen as an ASD, individuals such as Scott are apt to be underdiagnosed and to subsequently face severe interpersonal problems as they move through the later years of adolescence. Indeed, Scott displayed substantial problems with social skills and conversation. He had no real friends in class, showed a lack of empathy for others, and engaged in inappropriate, one-sided verbal interactions with his classmates. Yet, he knew the history of almost every classic car ever manufactured in North America and would share his knowledge at any time and at any place with whomever was present. After meeting to discuss Scott’s situation, his teachers decided to try to improve his social skills whenever possible. In class, they implemented the following strategies: • Whenever Scott was disruptive, they told him to look at what the other students were doing and to copy them. • They encouraged his involvement in cooperative activities, although they also monitored turn taking so that everyone had a fair opportunity. • They modelled how Scott’s classmates should relate to him. • They encouraged Scott to ask his classmates for help from time to time. • They encouraged him to make friends with supportive and kindred classmates. • They encouraged his inclusion in activities. • A teacher aide worked with Scott on all dimensions of interpersonal contact, such as initiating and contributing to conversations and becoming sensitive to others’ moods and emotions (Attwood, 1998). Mike, Said to Have a Learning Disability Mike showed above-average intelligence on standard IQ tests but also displayed extensive difficulties with reading and writing. As a result, during his second-last year in elementary school, he was referred to the

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school board’s special education diagnostic team. There, the psychologist informed the school that Mike could be said to have a learning disability, the exceptionality with the highest incidence in the board and one that manifested itself in many different ways. When he reached secondary school, Mike rarely handed in completed homework and was very slow to begin assigned seatwork during class. Even then, he would stare at his blank page for minutes at a time or doodle. He had difficulty following written instructions and often appeared disorganized. Each day, he spent part of one period in the Remedial Language room, but progress occurred only in small increments. However, he showed aboveaverage performance in his drafting and building construction courses, where the need to manipulate written language was reduced substantially. To help Mike as best they could, his teachers instituted several different instructional strategies: • They made their oral explanations clear and direct, checking frequently to ensure that Mike understood and, as needed, providing additional structure and direction in tasks. • They broke procedures into small steps and allowed Mike to practise each step until the entire procedure was mastered. • They made extensive use of easily read books, diagrams, videos, and films that replicated much of the information provided in the regular class texts. • They referred to publications such as Ciborowski (1995) that offer additional strategies such as analogies and visual images. • They showed Mike how to record all assignments and due dates in his daybook. • In preparing written work, student aides encouraged Mike to talk out his ideas before they recorded his ideas in point form. By the end of his first year in high school, Mike’s language skills were still very weak but he had acquired some confidence and ability to complete a good portion of his schoolwork. Theresa, Said to Be Gifted Theresa was identified as gifted in elementary school and again upon entry to secondary school. She learns quickly and effortlessly, makes abstractions easily, displays excellent retention of new information, has a large vocabulary, and possesses vast general knowledge. Although some

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students said to be gifted possess prickly personalities and are impatient with classmates, Theresa is a model student who makes friends easily and is tolerant of those who are not her academic equals. She strives to exceed course expectations and, while doing so, displays high levels of creativity in her written products. Outside class, she is captain of the girls’ junior basketball team and plays in the school band. There seems to be little that Theresa cannot do if she sets her mind to do it. Her teachers are challenged to keep Theresa engaged in the course content, as she is usually far and away the best student in the class. However, different teachers have applied assorted instructional strategies so as to support Theresa’s further learning: • They have used a form of independent study in which Theresa pursues a topic of personal interest or explores a unique dimension of the existing curriculum. • In mathematics, they have permitted Theresa to complete two years’ curricula in one year. • They have used ability grouping, where Theresa has joined her intellectual peers on a regular, part-time basis in order to complete an enriched curriculum based on advanced readings and extensive discussions. • They have assigned Theresa to a mentor in philosophy (one of Theresa’s main interests), whom she visits on a biweekly basis at the local university. • They have given open-ended assignments, for which Theresa chooses options for completing the work and decides how far to take her learning (Hutchinson, 2002). The Spectrum of Exceptionalities Earlier in this chapter we acknowledged five categories of exceptionalities as used in one educational jurisdiction: behaviour, communication, intellectual, physical, and multiple. Exceptionalities associated with each of these categories are summarized below without the more complete descriptions and specific teaching interventions available elsewhere (e.g., Deshler, Ellis & Lenz, 1996; Winzer, 1999). behaviour This category involves behavioural signs that often adversely affect educational performance. Students described as having attention-deficit/

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hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) display a pattern of inattention, impulsivity, and high (for classrooms) activity that affects their ability to engage with school tasks. Many of these students take medication such as Ritalin in order to help them attend better to class proceedings. Students said to have emotional and behavioural disorders show dysfunctional behaviours in dealing with everyday life, such as aggression, depression, selfdestructive behaviours, withdrawal, disruptiveness, and inappropriate interactions with others. These often difficult students may be placed on behaviour management or social skills programs or even removed from the school if their actions threaten the safety of others. communication This category includes assorted diagnoses of conditions that may be seen as interfering with typical means of communication. Most medical diagnoses, such as hard of hearing, may be assigned to the ‘physical’ category presented below. Students said to have language disorders are noticeably deficient in their ability to use and comprehend language when compared with their age mates. Those who speak little or only in short sentences or who rely on gestures to communicate should be referred to a qualified person for assessment. Students said to have speech impairments (such as articulation problems and stuttering) should be referred to a proper specialist if the impairments are interfering with normal communication. Students said to have learning disabilities show a large discrepancy between academic achievement and assessed intellectual ability and display one or more of a wide range of characteristics, including attention problems, poor bodily coordination, impulsivity, problems organizing visual or auditory information, and reading problems. Helpful programs may focus on direct learning and study skills, tutoring in subject areas, self-control training, and alternative ways to complete the curriculum (see the case of Mike above). Students diagnosed with autism or Asperger’s syndrome show poor interpersonal skills and social impairment, and may also show severe delays in intellectual and emotional development (see the case of Scott described above). intellectual This category includes diagnoses that are often based on the results of standardized tests and that run the gamut from very highly able to well below average. Students said to be gifted show unusually high abilities in one or more areas, such as academic performance, creativity, and leadership (see the foregoing case of Theresa). Students said to have develop-

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mental disabilities advance their cognitive capabilities at a much slower rate than average but can participate fully in community life if the deficits are not too severe (note that autism could be assigned to this category as easily as to the preceding one). physical This category incorporates the various forms of physical exceptionality that may be specified by medical criteria but that can also overlap with other categories such as ‘communication.’ Students diagnosed with cerebral palsy have a nervous system impairment that disrupts body movement and muscle coordination, but also often show other impairments such as speech problems and developmental disabilities. Students diagnosed as deaf or hard of hearing have access today to assorted technological aids should they wish to use them. Students diagnosed with vision impairment also are able to use assorted aids that help reduce the impact of their exceptionality (see the case of Jennifer above). In addition, a variety of other physical exceptionalities such as epilepsy, spina bifida, muscular dystrophy, and Tourette’s syndrome may be represented by students in secondary school classrooms. Teachers alert to the signs presented by these individuals may be able to modify or accommodate instruction to suit the students’ needs. multiple This category includes an often complex combination of the preceding categories. Teachers should make an effort to learn the various strengths and weaknesses offered by the students with multiple exceptionalities so as to provide relevant and level-appropriate instruction. Introduction to Disability Studies In the preceding sections we reviewed a number of the exceptionalities that are encountered in most secondary schools today. From time to time we also used the word ‘disability’ to characterize the exceptionality in question. But just what makes an exceptionality a disability? We have already addressed, at least implicitly, the two central questions raised at the beginning of the chapter: What are the signs of exceptionality? And who decides on those signs? We have seen that assorted signs distinguish the different exceptionalities and have come to realize that it is various agents working on behalf of the school system – not the exceptional individuals themselves – who determine the signs that are critical to suc-

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Project Twenty-year-old Jean cannot walk or talk. Her clinical records describe her as having cerebral palsy and being profoundly retarded. Her four-foot, forty-pound body, atrophied legs, and disproportionately large head make her a very unusual sight. Her behaviour is equally strange: she drools, rolls her head, and makes seemingly incomprehensible high-pitched sounds. With a colleague, reflect on and discuss the degree of ‘humanness’ you see in Jean. Would you attribute to her the ability to think? If you knew her better, do you think you would be able to see her as an individual (that is, as having a personality, likes and dislikes, feelings and motives, and a personal life history)? Can she reciprocate or contribute something to a partnership? Does she have a role to play in social networks or institutions? From Bogdan & Taylor (1989)

cess in school. But to call an exceptionality a disability is another order of categorization that warrants examination. It is to this and related issues that we turn as we survey the discipline known as disability studies. First, however, let us take a closer look at the categories and labels used in the preceding sections. What are the advantages and disadvantages of applying categories and labels to individuals who have no say in how those categories and labels will be used? According to Ormrod (1995), there are three advantages to using categories and labels: there are some similarities among members of a category, so affected students may benefit from similar instructional strategies; categories provide a rallying point for special interest groups who are promoting the interests of students; and classification qualifies designated students for government funding and special services. But, Ormrod also suggests four disadvantages to using categories and labels: experts disagree about the definitions of some categories; experts disagree about how to identify members of categories, with the result that different procedures can produce different conclusions about which students have special needs; members of some categories can be quite different from one another; and labels can stigmatize the students

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who carry them by suggesting that they are somehow inferior or inadequate. The resulting messages for teachers are several: • Determine and then focus on strengths and weaknesses (recall the signways or the MIs) of the individual student, and avoid using labels when possible. • Tailor instruction to suit the individual rather than the label, as individuals with the same diagnosis can vary tremendously in interests and abilities. • Use multiple methods and various sources of information to assess special needs. • Be aware that the experts disagree on some fundamental points concerning exceptionalities. To turn to disability studies, a postmodern discipline that came into being in the 1970s, its view is that disability is a cultural construction founded on the beliefs and procedures of those who hold power in the educational system. That is, the medical or social conditions that produce labels are not themselves disabling, but the sociocultural situations in which the disabled people find themselves are disabling. For example, people who have been diagnosed as deaf are not disabled if everyone around them can use and understand sign language, as was traditionally the case on Martha’s Vineyard off Cape Cod, Massachusetts (McDermott & Varenne, 1995). Exceptional students have no power or influence over assignment of the ‘disability’ label or how it will be used. Yet everyone, from administrators to teachers to parents to fellow students, plays the disability game at the individual’s expense. Alone, one cannot be disabled (McDermott & Varenne, 1995). Neither the student nor the disability can be separated from the cultural context in which both emerge (McDermott, 1993). Such students are disabled not by qualities that may limit their ability to function in the world but rather by the perceptions of difference held by those around them (P. Smith, 1999). Furthermore, it is abled rather than disabled people who apply the labels and impose the treatments – a situation that has inspired more verbally able disabled people to proclaim such mottos as ‘Nothing about us without us.’ According to Robin Smith (2001, 64), the usual assumptions of mainstream positivist research on exceptionalities – which more often than not then become known as disabilities – are based on ‘disability as a diagnosis and a condition to be treated’ (and remediated). His review of

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An abled student learns about signs from a wheelchair.

these inclusion studies uncovered at least three main assumptions: 1 ‘Inclusion is a “treatment” or independent variable in the education of students’ (ibid., 64). However, educational goals, whether gains in academic achievement or gains in social functioning, should be studied separately as dependent variables. 2 ‘Disability is a diagnosis and requires treatment. Normalcy defines educational and research goals’ (ibid., 66). Hence, the goal of inclusion is to help disabled students be as much like their abled peers as possible. 3 ‘Inclusion or integration is a solution in a society that structurally marginalizes people with physical differences and learning difficulties’ (ibid., 67). From the postmodern perspective, the concept of normal is a myth used to oppress people both with and without disabilities. In fact, an appeal to the idea of normalcy undercuts integration efforts when the underlying educational structures do not change. Critiques of mainstream approaches to disability are appearing in growing numbers in the literature. For example, Baynton (1996) describes in detail how oralist pedagogies imposed by hearing people who never consulted the deaf constituency appropriated the established position of sign language in schools for deaf people. Gender and power bat-

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tles imported from the broader culture eliminated any possibility of an equal educational outcome for deaf people. P. Smith (1999) takes a strong stand in underlining how developmental disabilities are pathologized and marginalized through impenetrable label borders that are established by quantification processes. Those so labelled are swept up in a dehumanizing and oppressive series of human service practices delivered by those holding power in a reified, objectified system of education. Baron-Cohen (2000) raises similar issues concerning individuals diagnosed as having Asperger’s syndrome/high-functioning autism (AS/ HFA). He suggests that instead of considering AS/HFA as a deficiency, the syndrome might be better characterized as a different cognitive style. He lists twelve behavioural features said to indicate that children diagnosed with AS/HFA differ from the norm – this, even though none of the features imply any necessary disability: • The child spends more time engaged with objects and physical systems than with people. • The child communicates less than other children do. • These children follow their own desires instead of being influenced by others’ desires. • The child shows little interest in what the social group is doing or in being part of it. • The child has strong, persistent interests. • The child is very accurate at perceiving details of information. • The child notices and recalls things that others may not. • The child’s view of what is important in a situation may differ from that of others. • The child may be fascinated by patterned material, such as shapes, licence plates, and lists. • The child may be fascinated by systems, from simple (such as light switches) to complex (such as mathematics). • The child may have a strong drive to collect categories of objects (such as bottle caps) or categories of information (such as models of automobiles). • The child has a strong preference for controllable rather than unpredictable experiences. Baron-Cohen (2000) addresses three further points: • Being more object focused than people focused is a disability only in those environments where everyone is expected to be social.

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• Cultural values become obvious when being more people focused than object focused is not considered a disability. • Regarding the above features of AS/HFA as ‘difference’ rather than ‘disability’ avoids negative value judgments and pejorative associations. However, he does concede that one good reason exists to retain the term ‘disability’ for individuals with AS/HFA: within existing social systems, to ensure access to funding and the special services that may be required. As we have seen, then, the constructed worlds of exceptionality and disability rest on slippery slopes of value judgments and power relationships. Every determination of disability carries significant implications for the bearer of the term and for everyone else in that particular sociocultural context. Although the idea of disability can be subjected to a detailed semiotic analysis (see Anderson & Merrell, 2001), it is important for beginning teachers to have at least a basic appreciation of the forces and implications involved in declaring an adolescent as exceptional or (especially) disabled. The main objective of this section has been to open the door to such considerations. Teaching Exceptional (and all) Students Thus far we have considered some of the qualities of students who display substantial differences from their classmates on varying grounds. The enduring challenge for teachers is to provide instruction that accommodates a wide breadth of capabilities. In this section, some general principles of teaching are offered that are usually applicable to diverse populations of students even though teachers will still need to modify and accommodate their lessons to suit their students’ strengths. A psychosemiotic perspective on teaching adolescents offers at least five important implications for educational practice. These were introduced near the end of chapter 6. They are drawn from Peircean semiotics, from characteristics of the signways, from our evolutionary history, and from research in exemplary classrooms (e.g., Hill & Smith, 1998). These implications highlight meaning making through signs as the essence of education while admitting disparate kinds of experiences as legitimate forms of learning. The implications are as follows: • Teaching involves the semiotic process of generating meanings.

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• • • •

Meaning is dependent on culture and context. Meaning making is a collective process. Meaning making is also an individual process. Meaning is established in every signway.

These implications suggest an approach to teaching more than they offer a series of specific teaching techniques. They are intended to be applicable to all students, especially those considered exceptional in some way. Also, because learning is used below in the sense of meaningful learning, the terms learning, meaning, and meaning making will be treated as synonymous. Teaching Involves the Semiotic Process of Generating Meanings Most types of formal instruction assert that learning involves the acquisition of hierarchical skills, which must be bundled into easily used units for student consumption. These learning packages often consist of problems with only one correct answer each. The main objective of this kind of learning is to score as high as possible on paper-and-pencil tests, which are taken as the benchmark of success and competence. Unfortunately, this approach has several serious limitations. For one thing, it focuses on only a narrow range of human abilities. Furthermore, Karmiloff-Smith (1992) has shown that representational change continues after behavioural mastery. For example, children who achieve mastery in stacking blocks show errors later on; this result demonstrates that behavioural mastery on tasks can exist simultaneously with poor conceptual understanding. By contrast, the psychosemiotic perspective advocates teaching for meaning. This approach acknowledges the multidirectional and nonhierarchical nature of meaning making, which should be achieved by all learners, including the teacher. Teaching for meaning – often termed ‘understanding’ (e.g., Wiske, 1998) – is not a novel recommendation. In the words of Wiske (1994, 19), ‘teaching for understanding requires open, explicit negotiation about what knowledge is, how it is developed and defended, whose knowledge counts, and how knowledge is assessed.’ Accordingly, this approach requires knowledgeable teachers who can deal easily with ambiguity and who are both confident enough to constantly seek new knowledge and competent enough to know how to do so. Note, however, that the average American teacher reads just one book a year (Gardner, 1991) – hardly encouraging news for those trying to promote a psychosemiotic stance for teachers.

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Teaching for meaning implies the use of some non-standard practices. Some examples follow. Example 1: Students might be required to try to complete tasks in several different ways. Hence, instead of handing in a written essay, students might exercise other signways by building an operational model or composing a piece of music. Example 2: The teacher might assign both individual and group activities, especially tasks that cannot be completed by one person working alone (Hutchins, 1995). In one case study, Roschelle and Clancey (1992) described how students constructed the meaning of physics problems in social activity instead of from formal textbook presentations. Their research underscored how science learning is enculturation and that social structures are vital for students’ understanding of how scientific concepts emerge and what these concepts mean. Example 3: Both students and teacher can adopt different classroom roles (cf. Gardner, 1991), with the former initiating some relevant activities and the latter modelling continuous learning. This practice occurred in abundance in the technology class studied by Hill and Smith (1998), where students said to be learning disabled worked alongside students who were planning to attend university. Another non-standard practice is to focus on meaning processes and continuous self-assessment rather than on final evaluations of the product. In this way learning is seen as never-ending semiosis rather than as the creation of deliberate pockets of memory that are under conscious and fully voluntary control. Yet another is to take the ideas of students seriously. Students who are engaged in classroom activities are trying to make sense of their and their peers’ endeavours and have much to contribute in classroom culture making. These five practices have several implications. First, educators should avoid the limitations of the ‘disciplinary ditch’ – that is, they should avoid becoming confined to the principal channels of their subject areas. Although they are expected to position themselves within the culturally approved views of their disciplines – especially at the secondary and postsecondary levels (see Roschelle & Clancey, 1992), students should be encouraged to comprehend the many interconnections among disciplines and to use those linkages to enhance their own meaning making and connections to their own lives. Second, because learning and meaning are so multidirectional and multifaceted, we should not assume that learning one fact is necessary to learn another (e.g., Phillips & Kelly, 1975), or that there is any single royal road to meaning. Meaning making is not based on hierarchies. Rather – as is the case for our brain areas and signways – almost every-

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thing is connected to everything else. For example, in the aforementioned technology class (Hill & Smith, 1998), the different teams working on bikecars followed different procedures and strategies in determining the design and construction of their vehicles. Third, curriculum is not a rigid body of fixed knowledge. Rather, it should be recognized as evolving constantly within the culture or, more significantly, as culture in the making (e.g., Stairs, 1996). Curriculum is constantly being negotiated in classrooms by teachers and students. Educators have known for some time that curricula approved at the government level take very different forms once they actually enter the classroom. Thus the ‘same’ curriculum may be represented as curriculum as approved, as curriculum as taught, and as curriculum as caught. Furthermore, teachers and students should accept the fact that there are multiple perspectives on truth and reality. A culture tends to develop and favour its own perspective on a given phenomenon; that said, a prism has many faces. Teachers should be encouraged to be open to a variety of perspectives in order to encourage the making of multiple meanings in their classrooms and, in turn, enhanced competence in the human signways. A fourth implication is that instructional tasks should approximate more closely those which students encounter in their real lives. In earlier chapters we saw how sophisticated our perceiving and remembering processes are and how meaning is tied closely to bodily experiences that assume emotional engagement. Because an abundance of research supports learning in context (e.g., Kirshner & Whitson, 1997; Rogoff & Lave, 1984), teachers should use a variety of strategies to emulate life outside the classroom. Examples include using dynamic visual displays such as computer simulations or movies (H.A. Smith, 1995), or leaving the classroom altogether whenever possible. However, traditional biases that favour abstract learning may be difficult to overcome. For example, Reeve, Palinscar, and Brown (1987) declared that everyday thinking was akin to effortless or incidental cognition and that academic thinking paralleled deliberate effortful cognition. In their view, the former mode of thinking was overlearned, mindless, efficient, and inadequate to deal with intellectual problems. These authors spoke in favour of ‘instruction designed to overcome their [the students’] thinking “bugs”’ (Reeve, Palinscar & Brown, 1987, 127). In contrast, I claim that for most students, school learning should more closely resemble everyday thinking and learning. Instead of being denigrated, practical learning should be examined closely for why it works so well so often for so many people.

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Meaning Is Dependent on Culture and Context In traditional Western schools, students are expected to learn abstract and universal principles for transfer to many settings (e.g., Brown, Collins & Duguid, 1989; Cole, 1990; Rogoff & Lave, 1984). However, this approach to learning is not congruent with that of pragmatic philosophers such as Peirce (e.g., Liszka, 1996; Savan, 1988) and Dewey (1916, 1938), nor is it compatible with studies that have been conducted over many years (Donaldson, 1992; Lave, 1988; Rogoff & Lave, 1984; Saxe, 1991). The research findings show consistently just how situation-specific most knowledge is and just how little transfer takes place automatically. When completing the ‘same’ tasks both inside and outside school, students can show marked discrepancies between performances. Even within a specific cultural community, the context of learning is critical. Rogoff (1984, 6) argued that contextual factors play a key role in cognitive activities and that even at a lower conceptual level, ‘skills are not employed independently of the context in which a problem is embedded.’ The decontextualization of learning has come under sustained criticism by those highlighting the power of situated cognition (e.g., Brown, Collins & Duguid, 1989; Kirshner & Whitson, 1997). Increasingly, educators are coming to realize that because all cognition is situated in a cultural context, tasks presented in the classroom cannot be applied automatically elsewhere and lessons are of limited generality. Similarly, the psychosemiotic perspective emphasizes that learning and meaning are acquired in specific contexts. These contexts are both cultural and situational in nature and involve such factors as who, when, where, what, and why. Because the rules of chess differ from those of football and violin playing, for example, learners are expected to create meanings within specific cultural domains. Hence, an important teaching strategy is to relate the subject matter directly to students’ lives and to engage them actively in meaningful contexts. Peirce proposed that semiosis begins with feeling and reality and only later moves into the Thirdness of abstraction (see chapter 6). Thus schooling should change from the what to the how, with the teacher’s role changing as well, from that of dispensing knowledge to that of helping learners become competent in real-life activities composed of the signs and codes of culture (Cunningham, 1992). To illustrate, Nelson (1994) demonstrated how students as early as the first grade are able to create their own curricula together with associated activities that best suit their present interests and capabilities. Haas and LoPresto (1994)

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reported on a project in which students explained solutions to complex mathematical problems in front of a panel of judges. All of these activities support students’ development of competency in assorted cultural signs by providing authentic tasks, which they then make meaningful. Meaning is culture dependent as well as context dependent. Even within a given society, many cultures exist that support different systems of meaning making. As Peirce noted, signs can function as signs only when they are understood as signs. For example, Haas and Rogers (1995) showed clearly how evolving signs are functional only in certain settings and in certain cultural communities. In their study, a young boy named Tim with severe language difficulties faced a clash of cultures as he moved between his home and school settings. At home, Tim had learned to communicate with his parents using arm and body gestures; at school, his ability to communicate was determined by his subnormal scores on standardized tests. Subsequently, at school, efforts were made to stop Tim from gesturing and to get him to start talking. This strategy devalued Tim’s functional sign system from home and rendered it as ineffective, thrusting him into a further culture of disability (see McDermott, 1993; McDermott & Varenne, 1995). Tim’s case underscores that there are no universal standards of normality and that any assessment of human capacities, skills, and performances cannot be carried out in a neutral or value-free scientific manner (Bernhard & Smith, 1997). Another lesson from this case has already been addressed, in the section on disability studies: meaning making is also guided by broader cultural agendas that are either explicit or implicit in nature, such as what constitutes a disability. This emphasis on culture and context supports claims in earlier chapters about the importance of emotion and embodiment in the making of meanings. Peirce’s semiotic theory is quite clear on the central role played by these two factors in Firstness and Secondness. In schooling, emotion highlights development across all age ranges (Diamond & Hopson, 1998), while specific programs for addressing emotional growth are available for different segments of the school-age population (e.g., Goleman, 1995). As for embodiment, people take their bodies everywhere and experience what their bodies let them experience. All of their experiences are filtered, and all of their meanings made, through their own particular lenses. Their embodiment affects how and what they communicate, and how they and their communications are received by others, who may share none, some, or all of their attributes. This discussion on the situatedness of learning and meaning has

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important implications for the classroom curriculum and is linked with the common distinctions made among syntactics, semantics, and pragmatics. Syntactics denotes the grammar for organizing signs, semantics refers to the meanings of signs, and pragmatics defines the conditions under which signs actually function as signs (Muller, 1996). Especially in the signways for which formal symbol systems have been developed, almost all students can learn to apply some relevant signs in syntactic, semantic, and especially pragmatic realms. Meaning Making Is a Collective Process Traditional Western schooling places a heavy emphasis on individual learning. In this view, learning is a private matter and should be done on one’s own; students complete individual assignments, readings, exercises, and tests. On classroom tasks, memory is viewed as a solitary, insidethe-head phenomenon that should function independently of external resources. However, research stresses that people are not islands unto themselves. Students belong to many other cultural settings besides school, they are significant constructors of their own environments (Scarr, 1992), and they are most influenced by enduring factors such as parents (Clarke & Clarke, 1989). As early as infancy, humans show intersubjective capacities that link them to others in their surroundings. Hence, a psychosemiotic perspective acknowledges that we are essentially sociocultural creatures who begin to make meanings with others in cultural activities from the earliest days of infancy. In society, people work together in units as a normal way of life. Outside school, no one is expected to know everything or to have a monopoly on knowledge. In industry and most other workplaces, individuals work cooperatively in the pursuit of common goals and different abilities are needed in order to complete projects. Even paper-and-pencil problems can be solved better by groups than by individuals (Williams & Sternberg, 1988). The psychosemiotic perspective is reflected in the following statement by Jay Lemke (1997, 52): We always perceive, act, and learn by participating in the self-organization of systems that are larger than our own organism ... The meaning-making, the meaningful activity, whether we call it semiosis or cognition, is taking place in that larger system, and not solely in our organism or its brain. We embody our past, as our environment embodies its (and so our collective) past, and in our interaction, not only memory but culture and historical

Signs of Exceptionality 253 and sociological processes are renewed and continued, diverted and changed.

Fortunately, some successful school programs have viewed learning as cultural and cooperative. Such programs approach group, rather than individual, products as important and view knowledge as something distributed among all class members (Rogoff, 1990; Vygotsky, 1978). In these schools, educators recognize the value of cooperative learning among peers and understand that meaningful knowledge is social, negotiated, and distributed among everyone. In classroom practice, the teachers in these programs recommend or assign some tasks that cannot be done by one person working alone. For example, in the manufacturing technology class referred to earlier (Hill & Smith, 1998), groups of students worked together to make products that could not have been fabricated by just one student. Whether the product was a spool rewind system or a bikecar, students built off one another’s ideas to create products that were superior in design and function to those which might have been created by a single individual. These group efforts underscored the important role of external forms of memory and resources in everyday and working life. Here there was a borrowing and sharing of others’ knowledge in a way that rendered memory as public and shared rather than as private. In the study by Roschelle and Clancey (1992) mentioned a few pages ago, physics students worked together to create representations and gave meaning to problems in a particular social environment. Instead of being given abstract formalisms in physics, these students cooperated to understand phenomena of which they were a part. The Peircean progression from Firstness to Thirdness in the developing sign was inadvertently recognized by Roschelle and Clancey, who recommended that beginning physics students first learn to negotiate meaning using concrete, manipulable objects. With increased experience, they acquired a shared technical vocabulary that permitted them to talk abstractly about the topic at hand. Cultural influences operate in other dimensions as well. For example, when they compare themselves with others, learners are acutely aware of their own strengths and weaknesses. Accordingly, educators should remember that all strengths and weaknesses are culturally relative. Disability does not exist as a reified, isolated entity (McDermott & Varenne, 1995); it follows that human abilities (or their relative absence) are labelled only according to culturally specified parameters. To refer again

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to Tim, the boy with severe language problems (Haas & Rogers, 1995), his diagnosis of ‘developmental disability’ was based on comparisons with his peers. Once Tim’s diagnosis was determined, entire cultural enclaves became involved as well. The school principal, teachers, fellow students, parents, relatives, and friends all became part of the diagnosis, with significant consequences for Tim. Similarly, emotion and motivation are collective entities. For example, troubled adolescents are often singled out for their atypical and often antisocial motivational displays. Campbell (1995) demonstrated that altered motivational patterns are better learned by at-risk adolescents in a cooperative work context than in an individual one. Campbell’s work is supported by Spanish research which showed that ‘adaptive motivational patterns ... are better learned in a cooperative work context than in an individual one [and assessment models should be] centered more on process than on product, with more reference to criteria than to norms, focused more on qualitative than on quantitative aspects’ (Rosa & Montero, 1990, 80–1). According to Campbell, learning is social practice that occurs in context, and meaning results from dynamic activity. Meaning Making Is an Individual Process As noted above, traditional Western teaching endorses this position above all others, in contrast to the psychosemiotic view, which accentuates the collectivity of meaning making. However, the latter perspective also accepts that individuals create idiosyncratic meanings within their cultural groups. People have different interests and strengths and create their own personal worlds based on their unique interactions with their parents and siblings, and on their choices of friends and favoured activities (Clarke & Clarke, 1989; Scarr, 1992). Hence, against the background of both natural and cultural meanings, individuals combine the collective with their own unique life experiences to establish meanings that are unlikely to be identical with anyone else’s. Because individuals possess an array of unique strengths through which they establish their own meanings, educators should acknowledge and be ready to capitalize on the special talents of each student (Armstrong, 2000; Gardner, 1983). Learners should be encouraged to make meaning within their preferred or stronger sign systems (e.g., Campbell, 1997; Nelson, 1995). For example, in one technological education class (Hill & Smith, 1998), my colleague and I observed the powerful effects of letting stu-

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dents follow their interests in a supportive setting. A grade ten student whom I shall call John had great difficulty with the formal agenda of school, especially with language. However, in the technological education classroom, John created his own project: the design and construction of a light trailer that both held a small boat and folded up to fit into the trunk of his father’s car. With this accomplishment, and in response to his teacher’s query about how he could let others know about what he had done, John became highly motivated to spend time in the remedial English classroom. He now wanted to be able to write for others about how he had designed and built his trailer. Thus a student who was failing in a core part of the school’s formal agenda was still able to achieve success and feel good about his achievement. He now felt motivated to enhance his abilities in other areas. This case challenges us to tailor assignments to the needs, interests, and strengths of the students. Requiring that an assignment be done the same way by everybody will always favour one set of individuals over everyone else. In the same way, standard intelligence testing should be devalued in favour of creating portfolios and other forms of assessment that represent what the student has achieved beyond scores on paperand-pencil tests. Meaning Is Established in Every Signway As already mentioned in these chapters, traditional teaching focuses on the linguistic and logical-mathematical signways. The importance of language and mathematics in instruction is underscored by the prevalence of remedial classes in those subjects. In schools of my acquaintance, no remedial classes exist for such subjects as music, drama, or physical education. The resulting implicit messages are that the latter areas, which involve other signways, are of little or no consequence to adolescent learning, and that it is perfectly acceptable to be ignorant or ‘disabled’ in musical and bodily-kinesthetic capabilities. Yet, one of the central messages of this book is that humans need to become competent in the full array of signways if they are to function effectively in their cultures. In educational circles, the explosive interest in Howard Gardner’s (1983) theory of multiple intelligences shows clearly that many teachers and other instructional managers are fully aware of the varied human capacities that must be developed somehow. Diamond and Hopson (1998, 197) represent the views of many when they state:

256 Teaching Adolescents [Gardner’s] work has gotten enormous notoriety and acceptance in part because it confirms our commonsense observations ... Within ten years of Gardner’s publication, a significant percentage of educators had adopted the theory of multiple intelligences as a foundation for teaching and assessing children and planning elementary school curricula. Virtually every child is good in at least one of these areas, and can be praised for it even if his [or her] strengths are not in reading or arithmetic. A school program based on many domains of intellect can also help children get practice in their weaker areas, whatever they may be, and develop and discover talents in new realms.

Although the theory of multiple intelligences conforms to standard views of emphasizing the individual above all, the theory is consistent with the idea of the signways in that it recognizes and values the diversity of signs – including symbols – that should be mastered in educational and other cultural fields. According to the psychosemiotic perspective, students should become at least minimally capable in all seven signways if they are to become fully competent in the wider society outside school. As I have tried to show in previous chapters, meanings in most domains call upon several signways simultaneously. Hence, an unbalanced focus on two signways inside school fails to prepare students for the range of cultural realities outside school. Things Not to Do From the foregoing, it should be clear that there are countless possibilities for opening up any discipline to the psychosemiotic approach to teaching and learning. There are, however, two main actions that teachers should avoid: 1 Do not present new material in ways that overlook its organization or its meaningfulness to the students. Organization is known or determined by your subject matter knowledge: the more you have the better. In this way, you are able to make many and varied links with your students’ lives and to enhance your instructional goals. Meaningfulness is trickier. We are talking about meaning as the students see it, not about meaning as you think the students see it. Obviously, you will have to ask them about, or otherwise get them talking about, topics as they understand them. 2 Do not rely on packaged instructional materials that make no allowances for your students’ abilities, particular prior knowledge, or cul-

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tural aspirations. The main concern with these packages, along with ‘common’ curricula and standardized tests, is that they wash out regional, intercultural, and personal differences that would otherwise highlight your abilities and education as a professional teacher. They also attempt to dampen the surprise element discussed in chapter 6. Explicit Teaching The previous section presented goals and procedures for teachers who are comfortable in their roles, who are knowledgeable about their subject matter (but not obsessively so), and who trust the students to be active and creative learners, whatever their abilities in less directive settings. However, sometimes these conditions do not hold, or the teacher must for one reason or another be ‘traditional’ and function in a more behavioural manner (see chapter 5). Under these conditions, what steps should the teacher take? In this section, some principles are enunciated that have been developed from research on traditional classrooms where teachers direct the action and where pre-specified student behaviours are of central interest. Here there is less interest in student understanding, authentic teaching and testing, and student contributions to knowledge. Research on explicit teaching conducted since 1974 has shown a pattern of instruction that is particularly useful for teaching well-defined skills. This is a systematic pattern for presenting material in small steps, checking for student understanding, and providing practice with decreasing amounts of support. Much of the research showing the effectiveness of this direct or explicit teaching approach has been conducted where the objective was to teach mathematical procedures and computations, or explicit reading procedures such as distinguishing fact from opinion. Other approaches are more appropriate for enhancing reading comprehension, discussing social issues, and teaching complex concepts such as liberalism. In general, researchers have found that when effective teachers teach explicitly, they: • start a lesson with a short statement of goals • start a lesson with a short review of previous learning, or prior knowledge, or prerequisite knowledge • present new material in small steps, allowing students to practise after each step • give clear explanations with sufficient but not excessive detail

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• provide active practice for all students • ask questions and check student understanding (involving many students) • provide guided practice • provide systematic feedback and corrections • provide clear instructions for seatwork, and then monitor the students closely • continue independent practice until the students are independent and confident with their independence. Of course, this approach is not appropriate for everything you will be teaching, so it is important that you not become overly dependent on this or any other single approach. However, direct instruction is very important for young learners, for slow learners, and for all learners when the material is simply factual and new or difficult. When your students are experiencing difficulty, make relatively short presentations and allow more time for guided practice. When your students are older or more able, or learn quickly, or are in the middle of a unit, you do not have to use small steps. Introduce bigger steps, make the presentations longer, and make more of the practice independent. Is a daily review necessary? It would appear that a brief, clear review is necessary at the beginning of each class to enable students to revisit relevant prior knowledge and to help them begin the elaborating and relating that are so important to acquisition. By brief, we mean five to eight minutes of reviewing concepts, giving the sequence of steps learned the previous day, and taking up the assigned homework. This is intended to be informative for both the students and the teacher. You may find that you need to repeat some teaching, or provide a clearer explanation in the present lesson for the order in which the steps are to be conducted. If the review becomes too long, you will probably lose the students; so keep it short. What do we mean by presenting new material? Effective math teachers spend more time presenting new material and guided practice than do less effective math teachers. The presentations involve small enough steps and clear enough explanations that students feel ready to begin their practice. It is vital to model and demonstrate the procedures for the students. Both procedures are even more effective when they are accompanied by thinking out loud. Present one point at a time, and complete a point before beginning another. Keep the steps small enough that the students can stay with you, and check on their understanding of each point before you go on to the next. This can be done in many ways. For

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example, you can ask students to restate the steps in their own words, or show their agreement with an answer by raised hands or a thumbs up. Often, teachers provide for guided practice after each step or part of the procedure. This provides supervision and guarantees success on initial practice. High rates of success on guided practice are desirable. What should you do to provide guided practice? You want all pupils to actively participate by working problems and examples or by answering teacher questions. The research suggests that you will need to ask two types of questions: those which require specific answers (e.g., 2x + 2x = 4x), and those which require process answers and which call for an explanation of how the answer was obtained (e.g., ‘I divided 4x by 4 in order to find the value of 1x’). Research also suggests that you should ask many questions of both types. A high frequency of practice is essential for the acquisition of straight factual knowledge that is disconnected from the students’ lives. You can accomplish this practice by asking all students to tell the answers to their partners, or by having all students write the answers on pieces of paper and hold them up, having everyone raise a hand if they agree with an answer given (and perhaps thumbs down if they disagree). This type of procedure provides for some degree of active participation of many (ideally all) students; it also provides some information to the teacher. Adolescents will take part and laugh at themselves if there is a trusting relationship in the class, and if they can see that they are learning. Some students may work at the board; others may complete the examples at their seats. If you are teaching students to discriminate between parts of speech, you can give examples and have students explain why one is a phrase and another is a clause, or how they know that this statement is opinion rather than fact. Don’t overdo it. Students may also answer the questions on paper and trade with a partner; you give the answers and have them corrected immediately. Next, let us consider how to provide feedback and corrective information as well as practice. How should you respond to correct and incorrect answers so as to provide information without putting students down and without taking too much time? If a student is correct, you can acknowledge that quickly with a ‘yes’ or ‘very good.’ However, if the student was correct but sounded uncertain (a sign: the voice probably rose at the end, like a question), you might want to ensure that the student gets a clear message that he or she was right. Also try using ‘process feedback’ – that is, saying ‘That is right, because ...’ Re-explain the process one goes through to get the correct answer; the student’s uncertainty suggests that this explanation is necessary.

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What about responding to the student who makes an error? The most important thing is not to let the error go uncorrected. If you give the correct answer and move on, you have not really dealt with the situation as a teacher. Instead, try giving the student a simplified question, part of the question, or a hint, or reteach the material. The reteaching need not occur right then in front of the class, but it should happen soon. Students deserve feedback that tells them they would be practising an error if they were to keep doing the procedure this way. They also deserve this feedback and the reteaching to correct the error before it becomes a habit. Once a procedure has been learned incorrectly, it is difficult to change. Students need independent practice. By the end of guided practice, everyone should be doing the correct steps, even if hesitantly. Then independent practice serves to help them see that they can do these steps without you cueing them at each step. They are striving for fluency and independence. If they are subtracting decimals, balancing chemical equations, conjugating verbs, operating a calculator, multiplying two numbers, recognizing opinions, or using a dictionary, then they have to acquire fluency before they can use this knowledge in subsequent learning. The teaching goal is for this knowledge to reach automaticity so that students no longer have to think through each step. Then their full attention can be focused on comprehension and application. Independent practice should be done on the same kind of material that was used for guided practice, so that the students are sufficiently prepared for success. Then ask them to apply the material as a later step. Independent practice can be carried out with students working in pairs, if they have been taught to alternate roles between the solver and the reactor. You can see the continuum from work done under guidance to work done more independently in the classroom, to work done even more independently at home via homework. During independent practice in the classroom, what is your role as a teacher? You provide encouragement (‘Come on, let’s do this first one together – I’ll start thinking out loud and you join in with me.’). You give feedback (‘The first two are right, but you got off track in the second step in number three’). You provide supervision (‘John, do you need some help? Think out loud to me and I will see if I can help you find the spot where the procedure breaks down.’) You provide monitoring (‘You are doing well – now see if you can do the fourth question without looking at the previous three. Do you remember all the steps?’) Be active, but keep moving, and do not spend too much time with a single individual or pair. Some researchers suggest you should strive for thirty-second exchanges. Until you have an idea of how everyone in the

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group is doing, you don’t want to get trapped with one student or, especially, trapped at your desk. The latter behaviour on your part will often result in slippage from an instructional problem to a management problem that will need addressing. Besides daily reviews, you may wish to incorporate weekly and monthly reviews into your schedule. The weekly review enables you to discern whether the students are retaining the specific knowledge or skills they are acquiring. The usual rationale for assigning this set of knowledge and skills is that its mastery will allow students to do new things. If you can serve the volleyball, you can take part in a game with your classmates; if you can use an index, you can look up a heading to find the appropriate section of your text or a reference book; if you can solve an equation, you can try understanding a word problem and applying your equation-solving skills. This means that the student’s independent, fluent, and confident performance is our goal for these procedures. We must also take time to teach the application of learned procedures, and not assume that students will apply them automatically or even know when the learned procedures are to be used. One of the traditional school’s claims is that its procedures promote transfer elsewhere. But sadly, transfer to other classes of problems or to similar outof-school tasks cannot be presumed. So take a text and practise using index skills. Insert the equation-solving procedure into the execution of simple word problems. Teach these application lessons explicitly with all the components we have discussed in this section. In summary, explicit or direct teaching is a process in which the teacher initially takes much of the responsibility for performing a task and then gradually hands over more and more responsibility to the students. This continuum moves from teacher modelling to guided practice, to independent practice, to application in various contexts. The data from a number of studies conducted in classrooms with teachers teaching their curricula demonstrate that when teachers teach more systematically, students’ acquisition of factual knowledge improves – often with gains in students’ attitudes towards school and themselves. Ability Grouping The question of whether or not to group students according to academic capability or other criteria is a contentious one that has been taken over as much by political considerations as by research findings. In many jurisdictions there have been attempts to eliminate ability grouping (that is, the assignment of students to separate instructional groups on the

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basis of similar achievement or ability in a subject). On the one hand, the trend towards inclusive classrooms appears to work against attempts to segregate students through ability groups. On the other hand, because of the substantial range of abilities represented in most inclusive classes, teachers face the problem of how best to teach students who are functioning at very different academic levels. For example, questions about a historical event may have some students answering with ease, while others are surreptitiously rereading the text and still others are having difficulty understanding the questions. There are three kinds of ability groups (cf. Sternberg & Williams, 2002). The first is within-class grouping, where all students in a class are assigned to one of two or three groups. The time spent in the group each day can vary widely. The second is between-class grouping, where students are assigned to different classes according to ability or achievement. If almost all class assignments are of this type, the practice is known as tracking. The third is called regrouping; here, students spend most of the day in general, mixed-ability classes but are assigned to ability-based classes for one or two subjects. Ability grouping has several advantages for students and teachers: • Teachers can cover material at a faster or slower rate depending on the group. • They can match their teaching materials to suit the group instead of creating individualized instruction. • Students may benefit from being with peers at the same academic level. • Students needing to build the same sequential skills can be grouped for efficient instruction. However, ability grouping also has several disadvantages, which may outweigh the advantages: • Students in between-class groupings may be locked into their groups for the entire school year no matter how well or poorly they are performing. • Lower-ability groups are overrepresented by students from cultural minorities or lower socioeconomic levels, while higher-ability groups are overrepresented by students from white or higher socioeconomic communities. • Students in lower-ability classes often receive a lower quality of instruction, with more time spent on drills and routines and less time

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Tips for Teachers On Implementing Ability Groups 1 Create ability groups carefully, based on multiple measures and on a subject-by-subject basis. 2 Assess student progress frequently, and adjust group assignments according to ongoing progress. 3 Avoid comparisons between groups; be aware that students in lower-ability groups are keenly aware of their placement and could show some loss in self-esteem. So compliment them on their other strengths. 4 Keep the quality of instruction high for students in all groups; do not reduce interest or enthusiasm for lower-ability groups. Adapted from Sternberg & Williams (2002)

spent on critical thinking skills, when compared with higher-ability groups. • Students placed in low-ability groups may feel socially stigmatized and suffer a loss of self-esteem. • Between-class grouping may not be effective, as lower-ability students placed in mixed classes tend to perform better than lower-ability students assigned to lower-ability groups (Good & Brophy, 1994). • Some forms of ability grouping and tracking are inconsistent with modern notions of uneven multiple cognitive abilities in the signways. Clearly, teachers should create groups with some care if they decide to use them at all. The accompanying Tips for Teachers offers further guidelines for working with ability groups.

Selected Reading Downing, J.E. (2002). Including students with severe and multiple disabilities in typical classrooms: Practical strategies for students (2nd ed.). Baltimore, MD: Paul H. Brookes.

264 Teaching Adolescents Describes what inclusive classrooms can look like when students with severe and multiple disabilities are class members. The book covers all grades, with numerous examples of curriculum devised for students said to be severely or multiply disabled. A fine reference for pre-service teachers. Doyle, M.B. (2002). The paraprofessional’s guide to the inclusive classroom: Working as a team (2nd ed.). Baltimore, MD: Paul H. Brookes. Although aimed at paraprofessionals, including teacher aides, this guide to instructing exceptional students should serve as a valuable resource for teachers and parents as well. The beginning teacher will benefit from reading through the many examples. Goode, D. (1994). A world without words: The social construction of children born deaf and blind. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press. The author spent years working with deaf-blind children and brings to this book many penetrating insights, challenging issues, and thoughtful questions based on his intensive ethnographic work in specialized settings. Rogers, L.J., & Swadener, B.B. (Eds.) (2001) Semiotics and dis/ability: Interrogating categories of difference. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. A useful resource for an introduction to disability studies and the range of literature now available in that subject. In addition, links with semiotics are addressed specifically. Sternberg, R.J., & Williams, W.M. (2002). Educational psychology. Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon. One of the many general-purpose textbooks in educational psychology that deals with exceptional students in the context of learning, development, motivation, instruction, and assessment.

8 Signs in Culture

Chinese Voices at Secondary School Yes, at first I really wanted to make friends with other ethnic groups but it’s kind of hard, so it’s easy to shift to Chinese people. (Valerie) I would really feel more comfortable with Asians. (Suzanne) I suddenly find that friendship is very important ... that’s the first that I felt that my sixteen years old birthday was quite lonely to me because I spent it by myself, and at that time my parents were not here. They were in Hong Kong. (John) High school changed everything ... High school, it seemed once you went into high school everyone went into his or her colour-co-ordinated groups ... That’s what I saw from my view. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have any friends that were of other nationalities because up until high school I had close Caucasian friends and whatever, but once I got to high school I was in the Chinese immigrant group. (Beth) From Minichiello (2001, 84–5)


Adolescents and Their Cultural Surround This chapter addresses at least several of the prevailing sociocultural concerns that affect today’s adolescents and that have significant effects on their functioning – and ability to function – in formal school settings. Two basic assumptions underlie this chapter. The first is that the pri-

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mary aim of education (which is more than just formal schooling) is to promote competence in the various signways, especially those in which individuals show particular promise (see chapter 5). The promotion of individual competence incorporates ideas of semiosis (or learning) and development that lead to the increasing ability of adolescents to understand and interact with their surrounding environments. The second assumption is now a familiar one to readers of this text: adolescents, along with everyone else in their lives, are not alone but instead are members of complex and overlapping sociocultural networks. An individual’s sociocultural network (or, more likely, networks) changes constantly in various ways as people enter and exit their life space, as group members react to environmental and cultural influences of one kind or another, and as individuals change over time. The adolescent is not alone, in spite of what he or she may believe. Nearly every action affects not only oneself but one’s family and friends, as well as strangers who happen to be nearby in both space and time. These assorted influences, and adolescents’ customary ways of dealing with them, are reflected in the classroom. So it is important that secondary school teachers be familiar with the major issues that concern adolescents and, as necessary, be able to respond to them. The key topics this chapter will address include sexuality, some of the ways in which adolescents inadvertently or deliberately harm themselves or others, and preparation for life after school. The discussions of these are intended as road maps rather than as in-depth explorations; the latter are available in other, more specialized sources. The teacher’s role or actions with respect to these subjects will also be considered. Perhaps it is worth noting that for most of the following topics, a general strategy exists that can be quite effective in raising adolescents’ awareness. That strategy, which can be tried by any experienced teacher or counsellor who has a trusting relationship with a struggling adolescent, is bibliotherapy – that is, the use of books to deal with, prevent, or treat problems of adolescence (e.g., Calhoun, 1987; Pardeck, 1991). Today, videotapes can also be used to achieve the same ends in a process that seems to warrant the term videotherapy. In the first years of the twenty-first century, schools in most Western countries reflect the diversity that characterizes the surrounding society. Many young people have arrived in these countries with their families during their school years. They have only recently learned to speak and study in English and to respond to the sociocultural and academic demands of schooling. Some students who have arrived recently have been victims of war, political oppression, and inadequate nutrition and

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health care. Over recent decades, schools have introduced inclusion (see chapter 7) and in doing so have broadened the range of potential achievement of the students in each class. The movement towards inclusive education for students with physical, cognitive, and learning impairments has also increased diversity in the classroom, as we saw in the previous chapter. We have recognized formally that large numbers of students – as many as 40 per cent in some schools, according to Valpy (1993) – come to school with major preoccupations that take precedence over learning. These are youths from a wide variety of bruised, stressed, and fragile families. All segments of society are seeking greater opportunity and equity in the way they are treated by social institutions such as schools. Teachers are equipped with sets of classroom purposes together with agendas for accomplishing those purposes. Their points of view reflect how they see their role and the role of schooling in the lives of their students. Of course, students such as John and Beth in the opening vignette will have their own purposes and agendas, which reflect how they see both themselves and the school’s role in their lives. As we saw in earlier chapters, the classroom is a socially constructed arena in which a great deal of both cognitive and cultural learning takes place and in which both teachers and students negotiate to accomplish their respective agendas. Furthermore, schools and classrooms are connected much more closely with the surrounding society and culture than we often think. The usual assumption made by teachers and non-teachers alike is that once the classroom door is closed, teachers and their students are isolated from the rest of the world. However, as we all know from personal experience, this assumption is true only in a very limited physical sense. In the same way that John and Beth may be preoccupied with personal matters originating outside the immediate classroom situation, so their teachers may be engrossed in matters that are within neither sight nor sound at any given moment. In addition, the teachers’ curriculum knowledge and ways of presenting it in class have been shaped by many past external experiences. In these ways we are often more aware of external influences and events that have already occurred, or that might occur in future, than we are of the immediate events pressing in on our senses. In fact, the assumption that we become separated from our broader surroundings by closing the classroom door is questionable in even the broader physical sense. We know that the schools themselves, and all of their physical attributes and furnishings, have been determined by perceptions of need by other members of society.

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This perspective of sociocultural embeddedness has important implications for what is seen as the main task of schooling, which is the development and enhancement of student’s cognitive capabilities. It is clear that even in ‘pure’ teaching situations, students are often mentally engaged in matters over which the teacher has no control. It is also evident that the processes and products of cognitive operations are culturally bound and socially determined. Although the interdependence of individual thought and social influence is not a new idea, the prevailing view in most Western societies is that individual cognition is somehow unique and distinct from the surrounding cultural milieu. This book has brought a semiotic perspective to teaching in secondary schools and to understanding adolescents. As we have seen often already, this perspective is characterized by an emphasis on all of the signs inherent in any given situation and on the interpretations and meanings brought to those signs by both teachers and students. A number of these signs will be explored in the following sections. First, however, let us review the relationship between individual cognition and the cultural beliefs and behaviours that both shape and are shaped by cognition. The usual view of psychologists is that the individual mind is an entity unto itself. However, in his consideration of the social nature of cognition (where the essence of cognition is concerned, the term ‘cultural’ will be substituted as the more appropriate concept), Forgas (1981) made several important points. First, cognition is essentially cultural rather than individual in nature (see also Rogoff, 1990). Forgas lamented the fact that most formal studies of cognition seek to understand the mental activity of the single, isolated individual without due consideration for the enveloping sociocultural milieu. Second, cultural cognition cannot be reduced to individual cognition. Two further points follow from this latter claim: knowledge is distributed among members of a society; and emergent group properties exist that cannot be represented by single individuals (e.g., McDermott, 1982). From the psychosemiotic perspective, this text has taken an even more fundamental position regarding knowledge: what we know is derived from and grounded in our cultural values and activities (Bruner, 1996; Lave & Wenger, 1991; H.A. Smith, 2001). In everyday social situations such as those encountered in classrooms and homes, individual knowledge and scripts are not fixed entities; rather, they are negotiated and altered as the process of interaction evolves (e.g., Mehan, 1980; Mehan & Griffin, 1980). The same effects hold for many of our remembrances, when memories of particular events

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are reconstructed with the aid of other people (cf. Verdonik, 1988). Thus it can be argued that the important events of our lives have vital social and cultural connections. Nevertheless, the tradition of Western schooling has been to treat cognition as a private and individual matter. The shortcomings of this view will be obvious when we consider various adolescent preoccupations later in this chapter. There is nothing particularly new in Forgas’s and Bruner’s assertions about the sociocultural nature of cognition. Similar claims were made in the 1800s by sociologist Max Weber (1968) and in the early 1900s by psychologist Lev Vygotsky (1978), among others. But today, with the slackened interest in behaviouristic and other, simpler conceptions of human learning and development, these views are being taken more seriously by educational researchers and practitioners. As well, schools are seeing a steady increase in the number of young people who represent all of the world’s important regions, languages, cultures, and peoples. This trend has brought with it an explosion of interest in multicultural or intercultural education (e.g., Banks, 1999; Fowler, 1998). Singular views about the nature of knowledge and knowing are no longer feasible for most of us. That is why this book has emphasized the sociocultural bases of adolescent life and of teaching a highly diverse range of adolescents in the high school setting. Let us turn now to some adolescent preoccupations that compete with the agenda of formal schooling. Sexuality Some educators (and parents) have described adolescents as walking sacks of bubbling hormones. As discussed in chapter 4, adolescence marks the onset of adult capacity with regard to physical sexual functioning and related psychosocial matters. Therefore, whatever you teach, you will (or should!) be aware of the high level of sexual interest displayed by your students. Like it or not, every teacher is a sexuality educator who must deal constantly with matters affecting sex and gender (cf. Brick, 1991). Such matters include the following: how the teacher relates to adolescents of the same and opposite sexes; how the teacher reacts to sex-related behaviours, jokes, and remarks; and what kinds of supporting or discouraging comments the teacher initiates with regard to issues of sexuality. Every teacher, then, is dealing with sexuality matters in parallel with the curriculum content being taught. Although such matters are more apt to become specific curriculum concerns in English than in mathe-

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matics, teachers of mathematics should also be prepared to manage different aspects of sexuality, especially as they concern gender bias. The general challenge for the teacher is to approach sexuality as a normal and positive topic accompanied by various challenges, pitfalls, and dangers. In class, teachable moments can be used to share knowledge, question false assumptions, challenge implicit and explicit media messages concerning sexuality, and promote thoughtful exchanges among the students. The essential goal of this attention is to allow adolescents to sort out their own feelings about sexuality by promoting open and informed discussion in a non-critical setting. They should become aware that sexuality has more to do with cultural values and mental attributes (it has been noted that the major sex organ is the brain) than with simple physical capability (e.g., Garbarino, 1985). One study (Netting, 1992) investigated the sexual behaviour of college students over a ten-year period from 1980 to 1990. The author found three sexual subcultures among those questioned, each composed of about one-third of the sample: celibacy; monogamy; and multiple partners (Netting acknowledged the difficulty of categorizing individuals). Sexual activity was recognized more as a marker of adulthood than as a simple biological need. Behaviours associated with sexuality can raise important personal questions, challenges, and difficulties for adolescents. Of all the possible topics that might be addressed in this context (including sexually transmitted diseases, AIDS, and teen prostitution), only two will be mentioned rather briefly by virtue of their importance for adolescent development. These two are teen pregnancy and sexual diversity. The first topic has inspired a number of intervention strategies, but fundamentally, there are really just two: accept the teen as sexually active but emphasize negative consequences and how to avoid them; and teach teens to understand the reasons for their behaviour, with the goal of encouraging them to avoid or delay sexual activity (White & DeBlassie, 1992). The second topic, sexual diversity, is concerned with problems faced by the minority of adolescents who are gay or lesbian. Teenage Pregnancy According to one survey (Bibby & Posterski, 1992), most youths have not given up the idea of a happy marital relationship that includes children. However, a growing number of adolescents are much more flexible than their parents ever were about the relevant options open to them. More than a decade ago, Bibby and Posterski (1992, 37) summarized the cur-

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rent situation this way: ‘Everyone is increasingly free to marry, cohabit, or not marry; continue a marriage or terminate it; have children in marriage, outside marriage, or not have them at all; engage in marital sex, nonmarital sex, or be celibate; be heterosexual, homosexual, or both.’ These attitudes, together with changing conditions and beliefs in society at large, have led to a steadily increasing number of pregnant females in high school. One study (McCullough & Scherman, 1991) will be taken as representative of those which review factors surrounding teen pregnancy and provide guidance for educators. One of the reasons for early pregnancy is early experience with premarital sex. The possibilities for early sex are enhanced when an adolescent has two working parents, as sexual intercourse is most likely to occur at home in the daytime when the adults are at work. Another factor, or set of factors, associated with teen pregnancy is conflict at home, with associated difficulties of communication. Such strife at home can be exacerbated by economic hardship and parental divorce. Compared with those from low-conflict homes, adolescents from high-conflict families show lower self-esteem, higher anxiety, reduced internal controls, and poorer psychological adjustment. These same adolescents are also more likely to engage in sexual activity. Some researchers have proposed that many teen pregnancies result from unresolved feelings and behaviour patterns stemming from past sexual abuse, often at the hands of close family members. Hence, the adolescent’s decision to have a child is a response to strong feelings of stress, helplessness, disgust, and shame. Parental rejection (shown by lack of warmth or love), lack of interest, or overt hostility is related to a variety of teenage problem conditions such as emotional problems, drug abuse, and other deviant behaviours. Such parental attitudes may prompt adolescents to enhance their feelings of self-worth by seeking relationships outside the family. These relationships may lead to sexual activity and pregnancy. Educators should be aware that an adolescent female’s uneven family situation and reduced self-esteem can interact to increase chances that she will become pregnant, especially if she has suffered sexual abuse. In addition, most teen mothers do not feel good about themselves as daughters, even though they may express satisfaction with themselves as individuals or as mothers and may even do well in school (Leadbeater & Way, 2000; McCullough & Scherman, 1991). Teens who are pregnant or who are already mothers value any support groups that are created to aid adjustment to their new roles. Ideally, these support groups include peers and provide counselling,

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practical child-rearing advice, esteem-building exercises, and empathic understanding. Support groups in or near the school may be more valuable to teens than community-based groups located farther away. Sexuality Diversity Where sexuality is involved, there is little doubt that schools and schooling presume that all students and teachers are heterosexual. Class arrangements, physical education policies and practices, school sports and academic teams, hallway activities, spring proms, curriculum topics, and administrative actions all support an unabashed agenda of heterosexism and, too often, homophobia. The school system is silent on homosexual matters even though 40 per cent of Canadians younger than fiftyfive accept the fact of homosexuality (Bibby & Posterski, 1992). This official school silence is reflected in two main ways: gay- or lesbian-related topics are invisible, and information about gay or lesbian sexuality is actively suppressed or distorted (Khayatt, 1994). Invisibility manifests itself in various ways: the topic is not mentioned at all; information is not made available in the school, including in the guidance counsellor’s office; and the subject is not included anywhere in the curriculum. Suppression and distortion are reflected in the refusal to allow gay or lesbian speakers address students and in the association of homosexuality or bisexuality only with negative matters such as HIV/AIDS. Yet, Kinsey’s work nearly fifty years ago revealed that almost half the adult population had engaged in both heterosexual and homosexual activities (Sears, 1991). Other researchers have estimated that from 5 to 15 per cent of the total population is, and has always been, exclusively gay or lesbian. Thus the issue faced by secondary teachers (who may themselves be hiding their gay or lesbian orientations) is how to deal with matters of sexual diversity when a non-trivial number of the adolescents they teach are struggling with sexual and gender identities seen as abnormal by society. The stresses on gay and lesbian youths are substantial. These adolescents often experience extreme isolation and alienation from being marginalized, from never being able to speak openly about their sexuality, and from having a central part of their being deleted, dismissed, or despised (Khayatt, 1994). They must endure homophobic remarks and ‘jokes,’ along with vandalism and even beatings (e.g., Van de Ven, 1995). To top matters off, they must tolerate teachers’ and administrators’ acceptance of these verbal and physical assaults.

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Most adolescents learn to deal with their personal issues.

A number of gay and lesbian adolescents may try to fit in with their peers by dating members of the opposite sex or by laughing at, or even making, homophobic remarks. However, these actions can further reduce their self-esteem, hinder the growth of peer relationships, and block the development of social skills (Zera, 1992). In addition, most adolescents fear coming out in the presence of their parents. This concern seems well placed; unless adolescents have excellent prior relationships with their parents, they risk rejection, guilt, and both verbal and physical abuse, including expulsion from home. Finally, gay or lesbian adolescents have difficulty joining the broader gay subculture, which is adult oriented and fearful of being accused of seducing young people into a socially condemned lifestyle. In her analysis of this issue, Khayatt (1994) suggests that gays and lesbians face some dissimilar experiences in our society mainly because of gender expectations. These differences relate to the younger age at which males recognize their sexuality, the more public expressions of male sexuality, and the ideological impositions of compulsory heterosexuality on females in contrast to the corresponding repressive impositions on males. Yet despite these differences, gays and lesbians may adopt the same coping mechanisms and undergo the same psychological stages as they advance towards establishing positive identities (cf. Zera, 1992).

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Given the aversive nature of the school system, homosexual youth may escape by dropping out of it. But there is an alternative and more drastic means of escape. The pain of dealing with their ‘unlike’ sexual orientations or gender identities may generate so much alienation, and such intense feelings of aloneness, that adolescents may strike out at their bodies or offending body parts by committing suicide (see Cohen, 1991, and the next section in this chapter). Certainly, gay or lesbian youths are overrepresented in suicide statistics: they may be two to six times more likely to commit suicide than their heterosexual peers (see review in Khayatt, 1994). Clearly, sexuality in high school can have dire consequences and should be of concern to secondary school teachers. What can teachers do to support gay or lesbian youth as developing human beings? The following are intended as helpful suggestions, and involve teachers fulfilling informational and emotionally supportive roles, rather than advocacy roles as some critics may charge: 1 Teachers can use the growing number of print or video resources to inform themselves about the lives and trials of gay and lesbian adolescents and teachers (e.g., Alyson, 1991; Harbech, 1992; Herdt, 1989; Khayatt, 1992). 2 Teachers can react actively to the negative or stereotypical remarks they overhear concerning gays and lesbians. There may be ‘teachable’ moments in class when such comments can be used to prompt discussion about issues of sexuality. 3 Teachers should support the availability of pamphlets and other information within the school to permit the education about any aspect of sexuality that may be confusing or troublesome to adolescents. 4 Teachers should support gay and lesbian adolescents’ need for positive and visible role models and for opportunities to socialize with like-minded peers. With respect to the former point, teachers should be willing to address homosexuality through their curriculum. 5 Teachers should be willing to listen to their distressed adolescents with open and non-judgmental minds and to offer any positive suggestions that they can. They might also learn about any community supports that are available to these young people. Hurting Oneself This section focuses on thoughts and behaviours that are directed towards oneself and that may have serious, perhaps fatal, consequences for the adolescent involved. The purpose here is to outline the main features of

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the three topics listed without claiming to provide exhaustive information about any of them. The subjects are presented in ascending order of significance for most adolescents: dealing with the death of family members and, especially, peers; the abuse of substances, particularly the most common ones, which are tobacco and alcohol; and suicide. Obviously, for each of these matters, much more information is available from the many resources available in the wider community. The intending teacher who seeks additional details is urged to consult them. Dealing with Death Adolescents generally see themselves as immortal or at least at the beginning of a prolonged life; nevertheless, they can be faced with another reality through the death of a family member or peer (e.g., Corr & McNeil, 1986). The death of anyone close to an adolescent is often traumatic and difficult for him or her to accept. Furthermore, it appears that the experience of mourning is qualitatively different depending on whether the death is that of a parent, a sibling, or a peer, and whether death occurred through illness, sudden accident, or suicide. When a parent dies, the adolescent may regress to a less mature developmental state and become more rather than less dependent on others. In some cases the adolescent may fail to complete the process of psychological maturity and then go through life searching for the lost parent in personal or business relationships. Other adolescents may flee from the increased responsibilities thrust upon them following a parent’s death and sever all ties with their families. When siblings die, most adolescents (76 per cent in Rosen’s 1985 study) may be unable to share their grief with anyone. This grief may remain unaddressed and affect the youth over a prolonged period of time. The most common event that teachers are likely to encounter involves adolescents dealing with the death of a classmate. One study (O’Brien, Goodenow & Espin, 1991) involved interviews with ten undergraduate students about their reactions to the death of a peer in high school. The authors found the following: students found it more difficult to talk about the loss if they had first heard the news in an impersonal way; their attempts to talk about the matter were often met with discomfort or a lack of understanding on the part of parents, friends, and counsellors; and school staff often seemed to not know how to respond correctly. For most peer deaths (some experts argue that deaths by suicide should be handled differently), the following guidelines for practitioners were proposed by O’Brien and colleagues:

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1 Because how students first hear about the death can influence their ability to mourn, announcements about the death should be made in a supportive setting (such as in the homeroom by the homeroom teacher) rather than impersonally over the loudspeaker. Close friends of the deceased might be informed privately. 2 Although teachers are usually in the best position to address the subject of death, many feel uncomfortable doing so. However, they should set aside their own negative reactions and encourage students to discuss their feelings in a supportive atmosphere. (Teachers who believe themselves totally unable to do this would benefit from relevant in-service instruction that permits them to become more confident in this task.) 3 Teachers and the school should respect student wishes to mourn the peer’s loss publicly (even months later), or sponsor some memorial activity such as a scholarship drive. Substance Abuse The use and overuse of assorted substances by adolescents have been well documented by now, and continue to be of concern to teachers, parents, and society at large. In approximate decreasing order of use during the teen years, the most common substances are tobacco, alcohol, hallucinogens, marijuana, stimulants, sedatives, inhalants, cocaine, and heroin. Fortunately, most such use is experimental and relatively brief in duration. However, with longer and more intensive use, adolescents can develop serious dependencies and threats to their health over the longer term. An important repeated finding over many years is that substance abuse is begun and maintained within complex psychosocial contexts and therefore is not a simple individual characteristic. Risk factors associated with substance abuse in adolescence include the following: the person’s sex (to date, males are involved more than females); use by family (especially dysfunctional families) and peers; lack of law enforcement; personal factors, such as low academic achievement and depression; and employment during the school year (Scott Beman, 1995). But teachers should also be aware of the lesser known use of drugs such as steroids in specialized settings – for example, sports (e.g., Fuller & LaFountain, 1987; Kindlundh et al., 1999). The general pattern revealed in many studies involving tobacco and alcohol use (the most common substances in question) can be summa-

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rized as follows: such use is related negatively (that is, shows lesser use) to adolescent beliefs and achievement in education, physical activities, and parental support, and is related positively to peer interaction, peer support, and psychological distress. Tobacco and alcohol consumption are highly correlated with each other and with the use of illegal drugs. So let us look briefly at the most commonly used of these substances, tobacco, and how adolescents consume this substance. Although females have traditionally smoked less than males, that pattern has been changing steadily over the past two decades. By 1988, for example, about half a million Canadian adolescents between thirteen and nineteen smoked, with adolescent females showing the highest rates of smoking of any age-sex group (Statistics Canada, 1989). Because research has shown that smoking is anything but an individual undertaking, anti-smoking campaigns focusing on individual behaviour have not succeeded in reducing the number of smokers. Rather, smoking initiation and maintenance seem crucially dependent on both reference and friendship groups – variables that vary from males to females. However, more recent reports suggest that adolescent females are now ceasing to smoke at a higher rate than males of the same age group. Van Roosmalen and McDaniel (1992) underlined the importance of the social dynamics of the peer environment. These authors found several gender factors at work: girls who did not smoke had more friends who smoked than was the case for boys, and more girls than boys had peers and family members who smoked. Because association with friends who smoke correlates so strongly with adolescent cigarette smoking, more girls than boys are in peer situations that encourage smoking. In addition, friendship patterns differ for boys and girls: boys tend to be in more loosely structured, variable, and larger groups than girls, which makes them less vulnerable to pressure by any one group of peers. Some existing data involving girls were summarized by van Roosmalen and McDaniel (1992, 99) in this way: adolescent girls ‘tend to have a higher level of anxiety and insecurity about friendships, a greater fear of rejection by friends, higher levels of vulnerability to impulsive behaviour, and difficulty in acquiring a positive body image’ – factors that in combination make girls more vulnerable to smoking than boys. Girls’ closer ties to family members are another influence. Campaigns to reduce smoking should acknowledge that boys and girls learn and quit smoking for different reasons and in different contexts and that group influences are more important than has been recognized in the past. Some literature suggests that gender-linked factors involving both

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substance abuse and its prevention may generalize from smoking to other substances. If that is so, efforts to discourage the use of any substance should acknowledge two main factors: the different social contexts inhabited by males and females, and the powerful effects of peer groups on adolescent behaviour. Drug abuse prevention programs (e.g., Hansen, 1988; Totten, 1988) may be more or less effective at taking advantage of this knowledge. Teachers should also be aware that the effects of substance abuse may be occurring right under their noses in the classroom. Suicide During their years of teaching, most secondary school teachers encounter a very full range of adolescent behaviours. One of the most distressing events is when a young and presumably healthy person, with much still to accomplish, takes his or her own life. Indeed, from the teacher’s perspective, adolescent suicide may seem easier to carry out than to understand. In this section we briefly consider the causes and prevention of suicide during the adolescent years. Adolescent suicide is now receiving more public discussion and attention than it once did. Suicide rates for fifteen- to nineteen-year-olds have increased steadily since the 1950s: a 1988 American report indicated a 300 per cent increase in incidence for young males and a 230 per cent increase for young females over a thirty-five-year period (Phi Delta Kappa Task Force on Adolescence, 1988). Suicide is now the secondleading cause of death for this age group. Almost everyone knows someone who has committed or attempted suicide. It is possible that heightened public awareness about suicide has been a factor in the rising numbers of young people who are taking their own lives. However, it is also likely that more comprehensive record keeping by social agencies and expanded media coverage have drawn more attention to the subject than in the past. At any rate, it has been suggested that nearly half of North American youths have thought seriously about suicide before graduating from high school and that one person in ten has gone so far as to plan for his or her own death. Adolescent suicide has been linked strongly with some social conditions. For example, young people who are isolated and impoverished, and who apparently have little hope of improving their situations, are much more likely to commit suicide than those born into more favoured circumstances. That said, suicide may be carried out by anyone

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living in any part of town. In this section, some of the causes and signs of suicide are considered and some recommendations for educators are presented. A comprehensive introduction to suicide, albeit one that is beginning to date, was provided by Greuling and DeBlassie (1980). These authors presented four key explanations usually given for the apparent increase in suicide among adolescents: drug and alcohol abuse; the alienation of young people; increased amounts of stress; and larger numbers of adolescents. In a more recent presentation, Allen (1987) listed eight predisposing factors: family, peers, birth trauma, personal or individual factors, sex differences, technological advances, acceptance of suicide, and mobility and rootlessness. Allen also specified some predictors and precipitating events of suicide. Below, the factors associated with suicide are clustered under two headings of convenience: sociocultural determinants, and individual determinants. sociocultural determinants Under this heading, the determinants of suicide that are linked primarily to social and cultural factors are considered. These factors include family and peers, alienation, acceptance of suicide, sex/gender differences, and subculture. To begin with the family, suicidal adolescents are strongly linked with dysfunctional families – specifically, families touched by divorce, conflict, poor communication, parental narcissism (‘me first’), absentee parents, excessive parental expectations, parental alcoholism, and adoption. Suicidal adolescents tend to have home lives marked by instability and conflict and to lack close attachments with members of their families. Family problems are often the precipitating events in suicide attempts. Unfortunately, the lack of trusting relationships in the family often extends into the community, where the adolescent also experiences difficulty relating to peers. The research has shown repeatedly that isolation from one’s peers, relationships marked by conflict, and loneliness are all associated closely with suicide, especially for young males and for gays and lesbians. Perhaps (but the evidence remains to be collected) the increased suicide rates over the past twenty years can be linked to insufficient group interactions, cross-age activities, and other support systems for young people. This brings us to the topic of alienation. We have already noted that the suicidal adolescent is often alienated from both family and friends. However, some researchers have speculated that adolescent suicide is

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encouraged by the alienation of young people from society as a whole. The notion of group alienation may have some foundation, since Western societies tend to reduce the potential contributions of adolescents by keeping them away from workplaces, ballot boxes, and driver’s licences until specified ages are reached. As an aside, fast food outlets may deserve some credit for making young people feel useful and responsible in modern society, even though these same establishments are accused at times of exploitation. However, this form of alienation – that is, the alienation of adolescents as a group – appears to be overblown as an explanation for suicide among the young. Indeed, many adolescents have excellent relationships with their families and peers, and the vast majority have sufficient numbers of links with their immediate communities to avoid taking the extreme step of committing or attempting suicide. This is not to deny that too many adolescents do lack this connectedness with their social surroundings and that alienation of the individual does occur. Modern adolescents seem to show a greater acceptance of suicide than teens of the past (Allen, 1987). Reasons for this trend may include repeated exposure to suicide on television and in movies; this may desensitize young people to suicide. In conjunction with this, religion is beginning to fade as an influence in adolescents’ lives. Studies reviewed by Allen (ibid.) point to a large sex/gender difference that exists with regard to adolescent suicide. The American data show that 90 per cent of those who attempt suicide are female and that 75 per cent of those who succeed at it are male. At least three implications flow from these findings: as a social group, females may be more distressed than males; alternatively or in addition, distressed females may be more inclined than males to act inwards rather than outwards; and males use more lethal means than females to commit suicide (for example, guns instead of pills). The final sociocultural factor to be considered is the subculture to which a group of depressed and suicidal adolescents may belong. Lester (1987) reported on a group of five teenagers who shared a particular set of attitudes and values towards life; three of the five later killed themselves. The members of this group displayed a number of relevant signs: substantial drug involvement, poor self-image, difficult relationships with parents, heavy dependency on one (or more than one) peer, loss of a lover, and musical fantasies. So, it is possible that some suicidal adolescents share their general alienation from society with like-minded peers.

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individual determinants Most adolescents who later commit suicide first display substance abuse, which usually involves drugs and alcohol. However, substance abuse in and of itself probably does not cause suicide. Rather, the same factors that lead to excessive drug intake may also lead to suicide. The ingestion of substances may serve to ‘medicate’ the individual against negative conditions, but may also leave the individual more vulnerable to extreme behaviour once the drug’s effects have worn off. Most adolescents who eventually commit suicide have endured atypical amounts of stress, which may be accompanied by depression. (Note that Hans Selye defined stress as the non-specific response of the body to any demand made upon it, yet stress is commonly treated as though it was the stimulus.) However, stress by itself does not seem to be an adequate explanation either for suicide or for the recent increase in numbers of reported suicides. Perhaps perceived threats to the developing self and the attending lack of resources to deal with changing life situations make the influence of anxiety-provoking events more potent than it would be ordinarily. Alienation as outlined above is stressful. So is school, where adolescents often fail to meet parental expectations of success in academics and sports, and may fail to acquire peer esteem in personal relationships and social activities. Repeated failures of these kinds can deal crushing blows to individual self-esteem, bring on periods of depression, and make daily living intolerable. Suicide is then seen as the only way to bring some control to an uncontrollable situation. Two predictors associated with youth suicide are external locus of control and the feeling of hopelessness (Allen, 1987). The tendency to commit suicide has been related to an external locus of control – that is, the belief that one’s outcomes are controlled by external forces such as luck and fate. A lack of hope may be shown by more females than males and may be more closely associated with suicidal inclination than with depression (Adcock, Nagy & Simpson, 1991). Finally, Allen (1987) reported a link between birth trauma and adolescent suicide. In other words, complications at or before birth may affect the baby’s resources in dealing with life’s challenges or alter the mother’s (or parents’) relationship with the newborn, or both. signs of impending suicide Often, teachers and other adults are surprised to learn that an adolescent whom they thought they knew well has committed suicide. Their thoughts frequently turn to such questions as ‘Did I miss some signs of

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the impending suicide?’ or ‘How might I have known in advance that suicide was being considered?’ Some studies have indicated that in many cases there are no discernible warnings about adolescent suicide. The situation is complicated by the fact that developing adolescents often display behaviours that are erratic or out of character with their past histories. Also, when adolescents focus on particular events, they are able to relate sincere plans for the future, to be preoccupied with the present, and to contemplate suicide – and to consider each of these in total isolation from the others (Cohen, 1991). Perhaps the best early warning signs of an impending suicide attempt can be developed from the foregoing information. A rough psychological profile can be created of the suicidal adolescent, and some implications derived from this for his or her behaviour. In general, this behaviour points to increasing alienation and depression. Another marker is growing and excessive use of drugs and alcohol, especially by those with no history of drug use. Troubled adolescents, who typically have few friends to begin with, start to isolate themselves even more by dropping some or all of their acquaintances. Alienation can appear as irritable, hostile, aggressive, or impulsive behaviour that seems to express the sentiment ‘I don’t care (any more) what you say or do to me.’ In addition, suicide-bound adolescents may begin to give away favoured possessions and to send sometimes subtle ‘farewell’ messages to their teachers and fellow students. Busy teachers who are focused mainly on accomplishing their many daily tasks may find it difficult to discern signs of depression. The identification of depression is complicated by the fact that it manifests itself in many different ways. For example, depression may be evidenced by psychosomatic complaints or by signs of fatigue in the adolescent. Of course, fatigue can also result from not getting enough sleep! Other possible signs of depression include loss of appetite, truancy, falling grades for no obvious reason, inability to concentrate, sadness, crying, and even anger. Many adolescents in this state seem listless and indifferent to the variety of things happening around them. Some suicidal adolescents are a little more obvious in transmitting signs of self-destruction. References to suicide, especially when focused inwards, can appear in student assignments, discussions, and remarks. In more advanced stages, the student may show a distinct preoccupation with death and dying and may make statements along the lines of ‘You’ll be happy when I’m gone,’ or ‘Nobody cares what I do,’ or ‘I can never do anything right.’

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Project This section listed a number of signs of suicide and suggested that teachers should intervene to save the lives of suicidal people. However, do we have the legal and moral right to intrude into the lives of other people to tell them they must live? What factors should be considered here? Would you approach the problem in the same way, and maintain the same beliefs and behaviours, for your adolescent students as for your ailing grandparents? Explain.

In general, high-risk students are those undergoing severe personal crises that usually involve family or close peer relationships, or whose quality of school life has collapsed abruptly, or who are suddenly and noticeably abusing drugs. Other important indicators are a strongly negative self-image, the recent death of a close friend or relative (especially by suicide), and a previous attempt at suicide. Although it is difficult to spot suicidal adolescents, teachers, family members, and friends should be aware of the following indicators (Allen, 1987; Garland & Zigler, 1993): 1 Preoccupation with themes of death or expressing suicidal thoughts. 2 Giving away prized possessions, making a will or other ‘final arrangements.’ 3 Changes in sleeping patterns – too much or too little. 4 Sudden and extreme changes in eating habits, losing or gaining weight. 5 Withdrawal from friends and family or major behavioural changes. 6 Changes in school performance, lowered grades, cutting classes, dropping out of activities. 7 Unusual personality changes, such as nervousness, outbursts of anger, or apathy about appearance and health; self-derogation. 8 Abuse of drugs or alcohol. 9 The recent suicide of a friend or relative. 10 Previous suicide attempts. A teacher who suspects a serious problem in a student should try hard to determine the reasons for it. The teacher should try to talk openly

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with the adolescent about suicide to reduce its stigma, to eliminate denial, to permit the airing of suppressed feelings, and to debunk any myths the youth believes. The teacher’s principal goal at this point is to establish communication with the adolescent; there must be no hesitation about referring this person to someone else who may have a better chance of reaching him or her. Teachers should also know the names of agencies or professionals who specialize in suicide prevention. If the situation is judged to be very serious, the teacher should take immediate steps to contact specialists, who may have the student removed to another location where care and protection is available. School boards might be advised to support suicide prevention programs in their schools. Such programs do exist (e.g., Berman & Jobes, 1995), and many different initiatives are possible (see Tanney, 1995). If suicide cannot be eliminated entirely, at least the problem can be faced directly and an unknown number of young lives saved. Hurting Others Adolescents who are in distress or who are undergoing processes of abnormal development may be subjected to, or subject others to, any variety of hurtful acts. Indeed, adolescents are vastly overrepresented as both victims and perpetrators of both fatal and non-fatal antisocial behaviour, including assaultive violence (Lowry et al., 1995). In this section, four selected topics involving hurtful acts are discussed briefly, again without any claims to comprehensiveness. The first topic is physical and emotional abuse (including sexual abuse), which some adolescents endure on a daily basis. The other three topics concern actions more apt to be carried out by the adolescents themselves: bullying, sexism, and racism. These topics might be represented under the general term ‘antisocial behaviour’ or under the more specific term ‘violence.’ The term ‘violence’ is usually restricted to assaultive activities such as homicide, rape, robbery, aggravated assault, and violent crime. Even so, the antisocial behaviours that support sexism and racism may be just as hurtful to individuals and to society as more aggressive actions. Before we leave the topic of violence in general, it may be worth mentioning factors that place adolescents at risk for violent behaviour. According to Lowry and colleagues (ibid.), both individual and social factors are involved. Individual factors include developmental influences both physical and sociopsychological in nature, family influences associated with violent and

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non-nurturing homes, and peer influences that include disruptive and illegal gang behaviour. Social factors include violence in the media, frequent instances of alcohol and drug use, easy access to weapons (including firearms), and socioeconomic conditions such as low status, high unemployment levels, high population density, and poor housing. Typically, adolescents escalate their actions to violence from childhood displays of antisocial behaviour of various kinds, such as fighting, lying, stealing lawn ornaments, and torturing the neighbour’s cat. Given the number and range of factors involved, many different educational and social strategies are required in order to help correct the increasing tendency for adolescents to get involved in violent acts. Physical and Emotional Abuse Unfortunately, physical and emotional abuse (including sexual abuse) has always been part of human history. Deliberate attention has been paid to the subject only since 1962, when the term ‘battered child syndrome’ was coined in order to draw serious attention to the matter. In the space given to the topic here, some of the problems in defining the terms will be addressed and some significant findings will be summarized. In addition, some important physical and emotional indices of abuse will be listed, and the associated role of the teacher will be delineated. The first problem encountered in dealing with abuse involves defining the concept in ways that are sufficiently detailed to permit preventive or corrective actions. Several difficulties present themselves immediately in this venture: there are many different forms of abuse; physical and emotional abuse often occur together in varying blends; and many types of abuse are difficult to uncover because of the lack of firm evidence available to third parties. Accordingly, most current working definitions of abuse have been created within various courts of law. Definitions of abuse typically presume acts of commission by the parent or legal caregiver. These acts might include physical injury; direct intents to injure, where intentionality must be established somehow; and emotional assaults without physical injury, such as locking the adolescent in a dark closet. However, it seems apparent that complete definitions of abuse must also include acts of omission by the parent or caregiver. Accordingly, wilful or ‘accidental’ neglect, and erratic caregiving that leaves basic adolescent needs unmet, should receive important consideration by those concerned with abuse. In efforts to create more precise descriptions of abuse, some investiga-

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tors have tried to distinguish among different kinds of abuse that are usually considered together or that are often assumed to have no unique features. One example is the four categories of maltreatment addressed by Thompson and Wyatt (1999): physical abuse, when caregivers intentionally cause physical harm to the adolescent; sexual abuse, when caregivers seek sexual gratification from adolescents through, for example, pornography or genital contact; emotional abuse, when caregivers ignore, isolate, reject, terrorize, or corrupt young people; and neglect, when caregivers fail to provide food, clothing, shelter, medical care, proper supervision, or basic affection. Although these categories are examined more closely below, most of the statements in this chapter are intended for the general topics of physical and emotional abuse. The existing literature suggests that the fundamental causes of abuse are nearly as numerous and diverse as the actual forms of abuse. An early temptation was to blame only the abuser. However, more recent assessments have argued that the entire ecology of the family and society must be considered in order to understand the reasons why abuse occurs. Some of the relevant factors include the adolescent himself or herself (for reasons not yet fully understood, some individuals in a family constellation are more prone to abuse than others); one or more of the parents and their psychological characteristics; the immediate social milieu of which the family is a part; and the character and values of the wider society. Although abuse is often associated with particular elements of society, it can occur at any time in any family. The reported effects of abuse on the individual are multiple. Studies have demonstrated that abuse is associated with the following: reduced intellectual capacities and increased incidence of learning disabilities; increased problems in relating to parents, adults, and peers; difficulties in forming attachments and trusting others; reduced levels of self-esteem; and aggressive behaviour in the home and community. For example, Janus, Burgess, and McCormack (1987) uncovered some of the effects of abuse on young people in their work with eighty-nine male runaways aged fifteen to twenty. A large proportion of these male runaways had suffered sexual and physical abuse at home. In addition, these youths displayed poor locus of control, an inability to form and maintain positive relationships with peers and adults, fear of adult men, multiproblemed and dysfunctional families, personal feelings of guilt and blame, and avoidant behaviour patterns. Of course, no single case of abuse typically reflects all of these problems, nor should all of the reported studies be accepted uncritically. For example, the research does not agree on such fundamental matters as

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Project There are both personal and social problems associated with attempts to deal with abuse. To what extent should we consider the abused person’s perspective in determining whether abuse has occurred? Some research has shown that, depending on the abused individual’s interpretation of the situation, no abuse may be seen to occur in a given situation. If abuse is perceived by others but not by the person being abused, is society justified in taking appropriate legal steps to intervene in the situation?

how to define abuse or its relevant subcategories; how to separate the causes of abuse from its consequences; what subject populations or sample sizes are appropriate for study; what a proper control group might be (many of the early studies lacked control groups of any kind); and what procedures and assessment instruments are appropriate for studying abuse. This is not to say that all of the relevant investigations should be disregarded or that there are no documented effects of abuse. Not at all. Rather, the lesson to be drawn here is to not accept without question every claim made about, in particular, the causes of abuse and the varying effects of abuse on individuals. What is the teacher’s responsibility to the individual and to the wider society in cases of suspected physical or emotional abuse? In one jurisdiction (the province of Ontario), the legislation on this point tries to be clear: ‘Despite the provisions of any other Act, a [teacher] who, in the course of his or her professional or official duties, has reasonable grounds to suspect that a child is or may be suffering or may have suffered abuse shall forthwith report the suspicion and the information on which it is based to a society’ (Bill 77, section 68.3). The legislation for contravening this subsection is even clearer: the offending teacher is ‘guilty of an offence and on conviction is liable to a fine of not more than $1,000’ (ibid., Section 81.1). Bill 77 (sections 37.2 and 68.1) defines abuse in several ways that parallel some of the preceding discussion. First, abuse is defined as physical harm inflicted by the caregiver or, to interpret, by that caregiver’s lack of attention. Second, abuse is defined as sexual molestation or exploitation by the caregiver or by someone else the caregiver should know about. Third, abuse is said to occur when medical treatment is required to cure,

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prevent, or alleviate physical harm or suffering; when the child has suffered emotional harm as shown by severe anxiety, depression, withdrawal, or self-destructive or aggressive behaviour; when the child is suffering from a mental or physical condition that could seriously impair his or her development; and (in each of the three situations just listed) when the caregiver does not provide, or refuses to provide, or is unavailable or unable to consent to, the appropriate treatment. Given the perceived gravity of physical and emotional abuse in many societies, it is incumbent on the classroom teacher to be alert to, and to respond appropriately to, signs of abuse within both the classroom and the school. Hence, a variety of physical and behavioural indicators for four categories of maltreatment will be presented next (e.g., TV Ontario, 1981). Note that the signs listed below are not complete and that the presence of any one sign does not necessarily indicate abuse. Rather, the teacher should be alert to patterns of behaviour (as opposed to single behaviours) when making the judgment that abuse is occurring. signs of physical abuse For physical abuse, physical indicators include the following: unexplained welts and bruises anywhere on the body; unexplained burns from cigarettes (especially on the soles, palms, back, or buttocks), from ropes (especially on the arms, legs, neck, or torso), or from other items; unexplained fractures; and unexplained lacerations or abrasions. Relevant behavioural indicators include the following: wariness of adult contacts; behavioural extremes of aggressiveness or withdrawal; fear of the parents; fear of going home; and reports of injury by a parent. signs of sexual abuse For sexual abuse, physical indicators include these: difficulty in walking or sitting; torn, stained, or bloody underwear; pain or itching in the genital area; bruises or bleeding in external genitalia, vaginal, or anal areas; venereal disease; and pregnancy. Behavioural indicators include unwillingness to change for, or participate in, physical education; withdrawal, fantasy, or infantile behaviour; bizarre, sophisticated, or unusual sexual behaviour or knowledge; poor peer relationships; delinquency or running away; and reports of sexual assault by the caregiver. signs of physical neglect For physical neglect, physical indicators include these: consistent hunger, poor hygiene, and inappropriate dress; consistent lack of supervi-

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sion, especially for dangerous activities or for long durations; consistent fatigue or listlessness; unattended physical problems or medical needs; and abandonment. Associated behavioural indicators include these: begging or stealing food; extended daily stays at school; constantly falling asleep in class; alcohol or other drug abuse; delinquency; and claims of having no caregiver. signs of emotional abuse For emotional maltreatment, physical indicators include these: habit disorders, such as sucking and rocking; conduct disorders; neurotic traits, such as sleep disorders and recently developed speech disorders; and psychoneurotic reactions such as hysteria, hypochondria, and phobias. The relevant behavioural indicators include these: behavioural extremes of aggression or compliance; overly adaptive behaviour; developmental lags in physical, mental, or emotional spheres; and attempted suicide. Should the occasion arise when the teacher raises the question of abuse with the adolescent, and wishes to pursue the issue further, a number of guidelines deserve attention: 1 An interview of any kind should be conducted in private with someone the adolescent trusts. 2 The interviewer should assure the adolescent that the interview is confidential. 3 The interviewer should sit next to the interviewee rather than across a desk or table. 4 The interview should be conducted in language that both parties understand, no matter how unsophisticated the language might be. 5 The adolescent being interviewed should not be allowed to feel in trouble or at fault, and his or her choice of words should not be disparaged or criticized. 6 The interviewer should not probe for answers the adolescent is unwilling to give, or display shock, horror, or disapproval of anyone involved in the situation described by the adolescent. The focus thus far on the topic of abuse has been on intervention – an approach destined to be limited in the amount of success that can be achieved. A more positive approach might focus on the prevention of abuse. Some of the relevant proposals that have been advanced touch on the following: the development of a self-report questionnaire to identify parents likely to abuse their children; education for parenthood; elimi-

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nation of corporal punishment in society; and national policies to strengthen the family. None of these is beyond criticism, however, and all imply an involvement by society in family life that goes well beyond the current norm. However, at the least, a public information campaign on abuse would be a good place to start in easing some of the social costs associated with the abuse of society’s younger generation. Bullying Teachers are often unaware of the pervasiveness of one of the most common elements of school life: bullying. At school, children and adolescents have been terrorizing one another for generations. Yet, there are relatively few studies on the subject even though, every day, adolescents are afraid to go to school because of the aggression they face there. This section addresses the problem of bullying by considering characteristics of both the bully and the victim, based primarily on the Scandinavian research of Dan Olweus (e.g., 1991). According to Olweus (ibid., 413), bullying occurs when a person is ‘exposed, repeatedly and over time, to negative actions on the part of one or more persons.’ These actions can involve direct physical and verbal aggression or indirect aggression such as threats, intimidation, gossip, and exclusion. Bullying is very common in schools. For example, Charach, Pepler, and Ziegler (1995) found that 49 per cent of students reported being bullied at least once or twice every term and that one in ten students was a bully. Three times as many boys (23 per cent) as girls (8 per cent) bullied more than twice a term, although victims were divided evenly among boys (20 per cent) and girls (21 per cent). Charach and colleagues found that bullying was highest in grades five and six, at ages eleven or twelve. Bullies were usually peers of the victims, and of the same age and in the same grade. In general, victims are physically weaker than the average peer and are shy, anxious, alone, lonely, and insecure; they also feel less liked than others. They are reluctant to tell adults, including their parents, about their problems, likely because of fear of retaliation by the bullies. The bullies tend to be larger, aggressive, hot-headed, and pushy youths who also challenge teachers and adults. They have not learned how to get along with others or to control their tempers – characteristics they do not simply outgrow. Olweus found that 60 per cent of boys named as bullies in grades six to nine had at least one court conviction by age twenty-four.

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Tips for Teachers On Reducing Incidents of Bullying 1 Tell the students exactly what behaviour is expected and what the consequences will be for misbehaving, and then follow through if the rules are broken (recall the ideas raised in chapter 3). 2 Monitor schoolyard and hallway behaviour closely, as bullying is less of a problem when there is regular adult supervision. 3 Teach students, especially bullies detained for aggressive behaviour, how to solve problems by decision-making and without fighting. 4 Watch for signs that students are victims, such as torn clothing, cuts and bruises, general anxiety, and falling grades. Victims need to bolster their self-esteem, in particular, and should join groups (such as the Scouts) that accept them. In addition, they might consider programs of physical development.

What causes bullying? It appears that a good part of the answer begins at home. Parents of bullies use less humour, praise, and encouragement and more put-downs, criticism, and sarcasm with their children than other parents. Parent-child contact is used differently as well. Parents of bullies use touch to control the child, whereas other parents use touch to express affection. Bullies have more difficulty than their peers in interpreting contact by others. They may assume that an accidental brush by a peer is an aggressive act. If they believe they are being bullied themselves by adults, they will use the same strategy to control the behaviour of those smaller and weaker than they are. The best way to change bullies’ behaviour is to give positive parenting suggestions to parents, such as teaching them how to solve problems without yelling at or hitting their children. On the other hand, parents of victims tend to be intrusive, demanding, unresponsive with their children, and overprotective of them. What should a victim do if attacked when there is no adult around and it is not possible to walk away from the situation? Victims are most likely to suggest doing nothing, while bullies themselves are most apt to

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suggest fighting back. Informed adults are apt to suggest a graduated, three-step strategy for the victim: ignore the bully (something most children have trouble learning); adopt an air of authority, declare that he or she will not tolerate the bully’s actions, and demand that the bully stop; and (c) hit back. Teachers may not be in a position to address the full complexity of bullying (see Peplar, Craig & O’Connell, 1999), but at school they might try some of the practical suggestions that have been derived from research and practice and that are listed in this section’s Tips for Teachers. Sexism There is little doubt that we live in a sexist society in which most roles, behaviours, and accomplishments are linked immediately to one sex or the other. This sexism is reflected in the most fundamental ways by our most significant social institutions, such as the church and the school. For example, the dominant Western religions were obviously created by men, with males and references to males seeking to direct the course of human conduct. A number of other institutions intended to sustain our democratic ideals, such as the media, also exhibit sexist biases in a variety of ways. Taken together, these assorted cultural support systems have a substantial impact on society’s citizens by predisposing them to think and behave in certain ways. The school, as a reflection of society, is no exception to this rule. The point has been made repeatedly in this book how closely tied the school, its curriculum, and its agents are to particular sociocultural agendas and agenda makers. And sexism is one of the pervasive elements in this mix. The roles and perceptions of each gender continue to have important effects on everyone associated with the school system, including administrators, teachers, and students. One example is the series of cases described by Coulter (1995) involving the struggles of beginning female teachers. As a beginning teacher of either sex, you really ought to read Coulter’s study. The cases are concerned with interpersonal interactions, but sexism is also evident in the school’s curriculum, office staff, and regulations. Some of the in-school examples cited by Coulter (1995) would constitute sexual harassment in some legal jurisdictions. Although harassment has been explained by some as more of a power than a sexism issue, the reader should examine Coulter’s work for how disturbing and disrupting this behaviour can be for the target of such negative attention. Begin-

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ning male teachers, in particular, should be ready to address these problems publicly. In any event, teachers can take some positive steps to avoid sexism in their teaching by attending to a variety of relevant signs (see Woolfolk, Winne & Perry, 2003): • Check that your textbooks and other curriculum materials describe a full range of options that are open to both men and women. For example, do the text’s illustrations show both men and women in traditional and non-traditional trades? • Ensure that your school offers equal opportunities and options to both sexes. For example, does the school allocate financial resources for sports teams equally to males and females? • Review your own classroom practices to ensure that you are not engaging in unintended biases. For example, do you always create same-sex work groups? • Provide role models for both males and females. For example, invite a female scientist to talk to your class about the future opportunities in science. • Use gender-neutral language. For example, say ‘police officer’ instead of ‘policeman.’ • Ensure that all students have the opportunity in class to do all tasks. For example, do not leave all the complex technical or electronic tasks to the males. Racism Another problem issue in our society is racism, where individuals are singled out for negative attention at school simply on the basis of their skin colour or cultural background. For example, in many Australian and Canadian schools, Aboriginal students are the targets of racist behaviour even though their ancestors settled in Australia and North America long before everyone else. Today, in larger urban centres where many minority cultures are located, racism can be an ongoing problem, so teachers should pay close attention to it. That said, the younger generation has made huge strides in accepting people as they are rather than on the basis of skin colour, religious background, or first language. In this domain, young people are often well ahead of their parents and grandparents, who grew up in more racist times. All that said, teachers should institute culturally sensitive practices in

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their classrooms. The following suggestions should help in this regard: • Learn the customs, traditions, and values of your students and encourage them to share their knowledge with their classmates. • Help students detect racist messages in such places as curriculum materials and media reports. • Use heterogeneous grouping arrangements to promote harmony and familiarity among different cultural members in the class. • Recognize performances in all of the signways, as some representational modes (for example, music) are more highly valued in some cultures than others. • Determine the impact your regular teaching behaviour has on members of other cultures. For example, looking directly at a student from a culture that avoids direct gaze may make the student quite uncomfortable. • Do not let racial slurs in class pass without your quick attention to the matter. (However, because good friends sometimes use racist terms on each other, do not automatically assume the worst.) Life after School Dropping Out Beginning teachers usually assume that the vast majority of high school students continue on to postsecondary institutions of one kind or another before entering the world of work. Of course, the usual entry requirements into teaching and most other professional or quasi-professional groups make such a progression seem natural and desirable. But the facts suggest another scenario. A comprehensive survey from the mid-1980s (King & Hughes, 1985) found that a high percentage of secondary school students in Ontario, Canada, went to work straight out of high school, and that most of these individuals were dropouts who did not obtain a high school diploma of any kind. The King and Hughes study produced the following data: • Of the incoming grade nine population who took mainly advancedlevel courses, 12 per cent later dropped out and were among the 45 per cent of these students who went to work immediately after high school. • Of the incoming grade nine population who took mainly generallevel courses, 62 per cent later dropped out and were among the 89

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per cent of these students who went to work immediately after secondary school. • Of the incoming grade nine population who took mainly basic-level courses, 79 per cent later dropped out and were among the 99 per cent of these students who went to work immediately after high school. Unfortunately, King and Hughes do not present the total numbers of students entering each stream at the time of their investigation. It may be that a disproportionate number of students began grade nine by taking advanced-level courses but then switched into general- or basic-level courses later on. In any event, the Ontario Ministry of Education reported that in 1983, 20.5 per cent of all students stayed in high school through grade twelve. At that time the evidence was clear that large numbers of students did not stay in school long enough to complete the requirements for any substantial diploma. Over the past twenty years the percentage of students achieving high school graduation has increased substantially to more than 70 per cent. However, most students still do not continue straight on to higher education despite, or because of, a curriculum that is heavily slanted towards university attendance. In the United States, the level of high school graduation has shown a similar increase over time. According to an American census report (Jaffe, 1998), about 87 per cent of both white and black Americans finished high school in 1995, with whites showing a higher percentage than blacks of subsequent university attendance. Those most at risk of dropping out of high school were Hispanic students, who had a dropout rate of 32 per cent, although Aboriginal students also showed high rates of non-completion. From the school system’s perspective, dropping out is regarded unfavourably. The key presumptions are that adolescents who drop out of school will face a higher probability of unemployment than any other age group and that these individuals will have inadequate personal and job skills to adapt to ever-changing social and economic conditions. Given the continued rate of dropping out among young people, however, it is possible that adolescents themselves see school attendance as the greater of two evils. Why do adolescents drop out of school? The reasons given for dropping out are numerous and vary from school district to school district. These reasons include socioeconomic factors, ethnic or minority prejudice, family background and relationships, personality characteristics, peer relationships, financial considerations, and academic and personal

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difficulties at school. Each of these factors will be considered briefly next. The research shows that students of low socioeconomic status are far more likely to drop out of school than other students. These adolescents tend to lack positive parental support to remain in school, and sometimes are actively discouraged from going to school. For example, daughters may be expected to stay home to babysit younger siblings, and sons may be expected to get jobs to help support their families. Teachers, who tend to be oriented towards the middle class, may fail to treat everyone equitably by supporting and encouraging these adolescents less than others in the class. Other aspects include the following: students of low socioeconomic status receive fewer rewards than higher-status students for doing well in school; they often do not possess the verbal skills of their middle-class peers; and they more often associate with those who are anti-school and prone to delinquency. A second reason often given for dropping out of school is membership in an ethnically different or minority group. Data for these individuals show a much higher dropout rate than for those from the majority group, with the highest dropout rates of all seen among non-whites in downtown urban areas. The values of the school and of the majority population within it are too dissimilar for minority students to identify with. When this is combined with other unfavourable social and economic conditions, dropping out is seen as the most appropriate thing to do. Another reason for dropping out involves family background and relationships. Stated simply, dropout parents tend to have dropout children. However, the quality of the family relationship also appears to be important. Compared to graduating students, dropout adolescents are less apt to establish thorough and comprehensive communication patterns with their parents; they are less apt to receive parental encouragement for their educational and occupational plans; and they are more apt to come from a broken home. Personality characteristics are also important. Dropouts appear to be more emotionally immature and less well adjusted than graduates. Compared to graduates, dropouts may show increased signs of one or more of the following: rebellion, negativism, boredom, distrust, hostility, resentment, alienation, anxiety, low self-esteem, and feelings of inferiority. Here, low self-esteem is especially meaningful. Indeed, a longitudinal study conducted nearly thirty years ago showed that male dropouts’ selfesteem increased after they left school (Bachman & O’Malley, 1977). Given the importance of positive peer relationships during adolescence,

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it comes as no surprise that the absence of this factor contributes strongly to the adolescent’s decision to drop out of school. The school life of eventual dropouts is characterized by the absence of participation in school social, club, or sports activities. These adolescents do not identify with the school or with the school leaders, nor do they play an active role in class events. The friends they do have tend to be community based and antischool and, most likely, are dropouts themselves. An additional factor influencing the decision to drop out of school is financial. High school can be expensive; when combined with financial pressures at home, this can prompt the decision to leave. Often, the temptation to possess additional material goods such as a good set of stereo speakers, new clothes, or a car proves to be too much for the adolescent who is wavering between school and work. The financial and social consequences of such a decision ten or twenty years in the future cannot be comprehended when students do not see the relevance of school material to their immediate lives. Academic and related personal difficulties are also major factors in dropping out of school. The general profile of dropouts points to simply too much failure at school (e.g., Kagan, 1990). More specifically, dropouts may show reduced reading capabilities, lower IQ scores, grade delay or repetition, low or failing marks, an inability to get along with teachers, class misbehaviour, and lack of motivation to do schoolwork. This constellation of factors may lead to the school pushing students towards dropping out by imposing suspensions, or even expulsion. These students may never return – often to the relief of those teaching them. Typically, an adolescent drops out of school for more than one reason. Also, the decision is rarely sudden and usually broadcast early. The following are signs that the student is at risk of dropping out (see Rice & Dolgin, 2002). But remember that each case is unique and must be understood in its own terms: • a consistent failure to achieve in regular schoolwork • a grade placement two or more years below the norm for the student’s age • irregular attendance at school • active antagonism towards teachers and administration • alienation from, and obvious lack of interest in, school • low reading ability • reduced scores on scholastic aptitude tests • frequent changes among schools

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• • • • • • • • • •

non-acceptance by school peers or staff has friends who are much younger or older has an unhappy or unsettled family situation is unable to keep up with normal expenditures of schoolmates non-participation in school or extra-curricular activities is ashamed of or unable to compete with siblings performs at a much lower level than the estimated potential possesses serious physical or emotional handicap is a regular discipline problem in school presents a record of delinquency

Some basic guidelines exist for schools and teachers trying to reduce the negative school experiences of students at risk for failing and dropping out (cf. Hahn, 1987; Nunn & Parish, 1992): 1 Provide the students with opportunities to achieve both social and academic success at school. Successes rather than failures should be emphasized expressly, and parents should be involved in the student’s school accomplishments. 2 Make students aware that they can control some important outcomes in their lives. They must be encouraged to develop belief systems that are more active, positive, and self-focused than their present ones. 3 Support at-risk students in developing positive relationships with both peers and adults. The objective here is to reduce the usual feelings of alienation and hostility. 4 Seek every opportunity to involve the students in school activities and accomplishments. 5 Provide alternative and less formal learning experiences for at-risk adolescents, who by now may have a long history of struggle with the formal school agenda, which typically centres on the three R’s and paper-and-pencil activities. Take advantage of the potentials of all of the signways so that each student’s strengths can be revealed in some way (see chapters 5 and 6). 6 Promote a general tone of psychological positivity. The school’s climate has important effects on both academic and interpersonal achievements for every student, including the at-risk adolescent. Further Study and Other Alternatives In our rapidly evolving information society, schools and teachers are in

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Project School life is often seen as totally alien to the life and interests of those students who are most apt to drop out of school. What are some advantages of dropping out? What do you see as the major advantages or disadvantages of cooperative education programs that attempt to relate schoolwork with the external world of work? To what extent can cooperative education accommodate the factors described above that are associated with dropping out?

the unaccustomed position of possessing far less information than what is readily available outside school. Furthermore, the facts communicated and tested in most school settings too often bear little relationship with what is seen as important outside school. Thus the focus of schooling has changed from preparing adolescents for the workplace of today to providing means for them to continue learning in the workplace of tomorrow once they have left school. The challenge for students now should be not to simply acquire information ‘for the test’ but rather to seek out and use information to solve specific problems arising in lived social situations. To help meet this need, postsecondary study of some kind – whether at college, university, or art school or at private educational institution – is highly likely for most of today’s adolescents at some point in their lives. The corresponding challenge for teachers is to prepare graduates who are enlightened problem solvers rather than recyclers of outdated information. School in Society Most adolescents are extremely interested in their immediate worlds and are strongly motivated to become competent in the environments in which they find themselves. As suggested initially in chapter 1, their major interests are usually sociocultural in nature – an aspect of life that school should be able to satisfy quite readily. In fact, it is only in school that most adolescents can meet so many others who are both similar to and dissimilar from themselves. Because of the opportunities to engage large numbers of young minds in concentrated blocks of time, the school environment can serve to develop the individual on many fronts.

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Schools can play an important role in encouraging detailed consideration of some of the larger issues of the day and in preparing students to face future problems and possibilities. In recent years, some relevant examples of these issues have been the preservation and restoration of the environment, the problems of overpopulation, gender and race equity, and the threat and spread of diseases such as AIDS. Despite pleas to have students know ‘the basics’ (however those might be defined), the school’s curriculum will be relevant to the extent that it prepares students to deal with some current social issues together with other more enduring ‘truths’ of the surrounding culture. Often, the two strands can be woven together in a meaningful way for both teacher and student (for example, a student preparing an essay on the chemistry of biodegradable materials can be learning a great deal about many different things). In this way, and to return to a major theme of chapter 1, teachers can serve their own agendas while also addressing the agendas of their students. In many ways, modern schooling mirrors the broader society more closely than it has in the past. More often than before, students are required to work in collaborative groups, to develop the interpersonal skills that are so valued by future employers, to share tasks rather than master all phases of every task, and to work on school problems that are meaningful within the wider society (such as designing a wheelchair for rough nature trails). This chapter has underlined, from both semiotic and psychological perspectives, some of the issues that may divert adolescents’ attention from the larger task at hand, which is to prepare themselves for society’s future challenges. Selected Reading Besner, H.F., & Spungin, C. (1995). Gay and lesbian students: Understanding their needs. Washington, DC: Taylor & Francis. One of an increasing number of books that address issues affecting the 5 to 15 per cent of adolescents in classrooms who may be gay or lesbian. Betzig, L. (Ed.) (1997). Human nature: A critical reader. New York: Oxford University Press. One of a several postmodern texts that take a critical look at the influences of culture on human behaviour and thinking. For the more advanced reader interested in how these issues affect the secondary school classroom.

Signs in Culture 301 Bibby, R.W., & Posterski, D.C. (1992). Teen trends: A nation in motion. Toronto: Stoddart. Results of a decade-old survey of Canadian adolescents are presented in a straightforward manner. Topics include changing and emerging patterns of behaviour and values and the roles of family, education, religion, and the media. Britzman, D.P. (1991). Practice makes practice: A critical study of learning to teach. Albany: State University of New York Press. A feminist perspective on some of the shortcomings of teacher preparation programs. Rice, F.P., & Dolgin, K.G. (2002). The adolescent: Development, relationships, and culture (10th ed.). Boston: Allyn & Bacon. A well-tested psychology text that provides a comprehensive treatment of adolescence from a cultural perspective and that addresses the major preoccupations of that age group. Senge, P.M. (1990). The fifth discipline: The art and practice of the learning organization. New York: Doubleday. An important message about how social institutions should function. Although the book is aimed at business and industry, its principles can be applied readily to education. The disciplines of the learning organization are delineated as follows: systems thinking, personal mastery, mental models, building shared vision, and team learning.

9 Signs of the Expert Teacher

Is Teaching the Job for Me? I cannot think of any recent experience in my work that has been rewarding at all, a depressing result of being forced to teach classes in subjects that you have no expertise in and no particular desire to teach. (Male technological studies teacher) I like working with teenagers. They may be frustrating at times but are still the most interesting and exciting people on earth. (Male technological studies teacher) I never think I am ‘going to work’ every day, but ‘going to school.’ I enjoy what I do – I truly enjoy ‘teaching.’ (Female French teacher) I try to get away from what I did during the day. I watch TV, spend time with my two children. I try not to bring the problems home. I try to manage my time, to balance things. I can’t do everything. I can’t save the world by myself. I can’t save every student – I’ll try for the maximum. I know my limits. (Male French immersion teacher) From King, Warren & Peart (1988); King & Peart (1992)


Teaching as a Sociocultural Role In this chapter our focus shifts from teaching adolescents to teachers of adolescents. A number of issues introduced in chapter 1 will be revisited. However, instead of being directed towards all members of society in general, and especially towards adolescents, these issues will focus on the

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secondary school teacher. We shall begin with theory and with the characteristics of the expert teacher and then move on to the characteristics of cooperative learning, mastery learning, homework, and the parentteacher interview that distinguish the effective from the not so effective teacher. The topics after that are teacher self-appraisal and self-reflection during the conduct of one’s teaching duties, followed by teacher expectations and self-fulfilling prophecies. Then we consider the important issues of teacher satisfaction and stress. The final topic will be longterm survival as a teacher. The general position of this chapter is that effective and integrated classroom teaching performances are most likely to be achieved by optimistic and integrated teachers. Hence, along with the characteristics of expert teachers, we shall discuss ways to promote the healthy development and maintenance of secondary teachers. As was discussed in chapter 1 and restated throughout this book, we are all embedded in one culture or another in our wider society. As teachers we are also citizens, parents, voters, members of interest groups, and taxpayers. And as teachers, we are assigned certain roles and given certain responsibilities by the society at large. For the most part the roles we play and the responsibilities we meet are based in the educational system and in the organization we call school. Schools are physical structures, but more importantly they are cultural constructions comprised most obviously of principals, department heads, teachers, students, and support staff. Less obviously, schools are also comprised of parents, crossing guards, school bus drivers, social agencies, and system administrators. The actions of any one of these have implications for everyone else in the school. Of course, none of us spends every hour in school. It follows that the people in school are products of many sociocultural milieux found outside school and that all are influenced by their lives elsewhere. It follows that much of our in-school behaviour has its roots someplace else. What are some characteristics of the teaching role from a social perspective? A major survey of Ontario secondary teachers and principals conducted in the mid-1980s provided an excellent snapshot of teachers and teaching for those years; this chapter’s opening quotes have been drawn from it (King, Warren & Peart, 1988). That study revealed what other investigations have found: these teachers had the good fortune to be relatively well regarded by their particular society. However, this is not always the case. In some societies, teachers are very highly respected, while in others they are not. For example, in some parts of the United States, teachers are not well prepared academically, they are not paid

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very well, and their public esteem is lower than for other occupations requiring similar levels of education. Such conditions do not automatically attract some potentially excellent teachers. Society has established some important gender links concerning teaching as a career. For example, teacher’s average yearly salaries reflect to some extent the degree to which teaching is valued as a profession. Traditionally, and for a number of solid reasons, women have tended to regard teaching as more viable for them than many other occupations. In addition, women much more than men have viewed teaching as a socially significant career. In passing, it is worth reflecting on the finding by King and colleagues (ibid.) that for more than half of all teachers, both men and women, in today’s secondary schools, teaching was not their first career choice. That teaching is a gendered activity was reflected for many years by salary and benefit differentials that placed more value on secondary than elementary school teaching. Women have always been the majority in North America’s elementary schools, while men have until recently formed the vast majority of those teaching in secondary schools. For example, the overall ratio of men to women teachers in Ontario secondary schools was on the order of 65 to 35 for more than thirty years (that is, from 1955 to 1986). Two important changes – one about two decades old, the other more recent – have happened in teaching. A number of years ago, salaries and benefits were made about the same for similar qualifications regardless of whether one taught at the elementary or the secondary level. The second and more recent change is that substantial numbers of women have moved into secondary teaching. The female-to-male ratios for preservice teachers in different programs at Ontario faculties of education during 1987–88 are revealing: 8.6 to 1 in Primary/Junior; 1.9 to 1 in Junior/Intermediate; and 1.4 to 1 in Intermediate/Senior. (See King et al., 1988, for the precise numbers involved. From a systemic perspective, the small number of men choosing to teach in elementary school is now viewed as a serious concern.) A later study (King & Peart, 1992) contended that if the trend in ratios of new teachers continued, the proportion of women in secondary schools would probably soon equal that of men. Today, if they choose to teach and are hired, women now exceed men in terms of total numbers of new teachers entering the secondary system. If transitions into administrative positions such as school principal are based on abilities, we should see a substantial increase in numbers of women occupying those positions in coming years.

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Project Reflect on the three best teachers who taught you at some point in your schooling. What qualities made them the ‘best’? From what you know now, would you consider them expert teachers? In what ways were these teachers alike? In what ways were they different? Which of their qualities would you try to emulate in your own teaching? Why? Discuss these questions with your peers. In these discussions, characteristics of best teachers that may be mentioned include the following: love of teaching, novel class activities, deep caring for students, and frequent breaks in routine along with clear class objectives.

Characteristics of Expertise in Teaching Graduating student teachers are not expert teachers, and neither are beginning teachers with one or two years of experience. Rather, more substantial experience of at least five (more often ten) years in teaching or in any other domain is necessary before one is able to reach the high levels of performance characteristic of expertise (e.g., Carter, 1990; Ericsson & Charness, 1994). This section summarizes some of the key features of expertise – a subject that has been popular in education over the past three decades – and discusses how expertise is demonstrated in teaching. Progressing from Novice to Expert Let us begin by examining what is meant by two terms that appear together in the literature on expertise. The first term, expert, implies both experience and success when operating in some domain even though what constitutes success in many areas is not entirely clear. This situation is further complicated by the facts that extensive individual experience in a given domain does not guarantee a high level of performance, and that what is required for success in one domain may be quite different from what is required for success elsewhere. Hence, experience in a particular domain can be seen as a necessary but not sufficient condition for expertise to develop. It has been estimated that about ten years of expe-

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rience is needed to become expert in some domains, including teaching; much of the relevant research presumes that at least five years’ experience is necessary (see Brandt, 1986; Carter et al., 1988). For teachers, the more helpful research on expertise focuses on expert performance rather than on experts thinking about their performance (see Carter, 1990). Despite the differing views about what constitutes expertise and how to assess it, the word expert is used here for the sake of both brevity and convenience. The second term, novice, implies neither experience nor success in a particular domain. However, the term is not synonymous with naive. Novices possess domain-specific knowledge, but it differs from that of experts in terms of quantity, organization, matters emphasized, substantiveness, and forms of representation in the linguistic, spatial, and motoric modes. These factors will be elaborated below. For the present, we should note that in general, the term novice is used to refer to individuals who are relatively new to the areas in which they are trying to succeed and who lack domain-specific knowledge. Dreyfus and Dreyfus (1986) elaborated on research from the field of nursing that argued for five stages of skill development. Stage 1, novice, is characterized by limited, quite inflexible, rule-governed knowledge and behaviour. In Stage 2, advanced beginner, the learner is starting to absorb some of the critical situational aspects of the task that accompany the set of rules, but may not be able to appreciate the importance of those aspects. In Stage 3, competent, the learner sees actions in terms of goals and plans based on a selection of the important features of the situation at hand. In Stage 4, proficient, the situation is summed up and the plans are selected quickly, with the best plan of action apparently chosen unconsciously. In Stage 5, expert, the performer acts intuitively from a rich understanding of the situation, seems unaware of rules and features, and performs with high proficiency, fluidity, and flexibility. Differences in performance between experts and novices have been observed in a variety of human domains such as chess, music, basketball, typing, medical diagnosis, and teaching. Typically, compared with novices in these domains, experts demonstrate superior short-term and longterm memory (see Glaser & Chi, 1988), more rapid access to relevant memory (Ericsson, 1985), more elaborate conceptual schemas (Westerman, 1991), less effort and greater fluidity of action (Carter et al., 1988), increased sensitivity to patterns and structures (Allard & Burnett, 1985), and greater use of inferences and abstractions (Berliner, 1988). Generally, these differences between experts and novices have been

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explained using a cognitive psychological perspective, one that relies heavily on information processing concepts. In other words, experts code more deeply than novices, to chunk much more of the relevant information, and to establish more effective and efficient knowledge structures. The development of expertise is characterized by ‘a progressive change in the representation of knowledge from declarative to procedural ... since experts know both what to do and how to do it’ (Charness, 1989, 443). However, many features of expert performance are not addressed well by existing cognitive interpretations. For example, research has shown that experts often: • perform better when disregarding the rules and guidelines used by beginners (Groen & Patel, 1985); • function automatically or ‘thoughtlessly’ (Ericsson & Simon, 1980); • cannot report all of their problem-solving strategies and processes (Ericsson & Simon, 1980); • possess substantial practical experience in the relevant domain of expertise (Berliner, 1986); • maintain high levels of skill without practice (Ericsson, 1985); and • make extensive use of contextual information (Scribner, 1986). This includes immediately recognizing patterns and showing a heightened sensitivity to problem configuration and structure. These findings suggest further that experts tend to focus on the atypical rather than on the typical and to have images – or icons – of how things ought to be (Berliner, 1988). In general, investigators have concluded that domain-specific knowledge is perceived, represented, and utilized differently in experts than it is in novices (e.g., Berliner, 1986; Dreyfus & Dreyfus, 1986). From the semiotic perspective, studies of expertise are noteworthy for their increasing attention to signs and meaning. Much of this work has revealed that expert behaviour in a variety of domains exhibits domainspecific characteristics and contextual groundedness (cf. Chi, Glaser, & Farr, 1988). Over the past twenty years, research on human expertise has diverged from that of expert systems and artificial intelligence. The latter areas have been hampered by the adoption of limited and faulty assumptions, such as the conjecture that expertise is based on rules rather than on cases. The evidence now suggests that events in given domains are understood by experts on the basis of known and meaningful patterns of

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perceptual stimulation that are, first, acquired over extensive periods of exposure and, second, grounded in prototypes and innately driven categories (e.g., Lakoff, 1987). These findings tend to support Peirce’s frequent appeals to ‘instinct’ and to ‘il lume naturale’ (e.g., Buchler, 1955, 156) as explanations for the human ability to understand nature’s ways so easily. Some researchers in the subject of expertise seem reluctant to involve notions of meaning in their work; others have been doing so for the better part of two decades. For example, Carter and colleagues (1988, 25) suggested that new and experienced teachers ‘differ in their abilities to make sense of the large array of stimuli in classroom situations,’ that the more effective teachers ‘interpret the meaning of classroom events and act on these understandings’ (ibid.), and that experts are more able than novices to sort various classroom situations into meaningful problem units. In fact, Carter and colleagues (1988) emphasized repeatedly the role and importance of meaning in the behaviour of expert teachers. These signs of expertise raise various questions of process. How are experts but not novices able to move efficiently and rapidly to the solution of domain-specific problems? How are experts but not novices able to reach higher levels of inference with smaller numbers of errors? How are experts but not novices able to perceive complete patterns without decomposing them into their component features? Why are experts less able than novices to report on the nature and order of procedures leading to problem solution? The point of raising these questions is not to answer them here but to highlight that much research has yet to be done with regard to how expertise in teaching develops. Qualities of Expert Teaching To review the above information on expertise and the overview provided by Sternberg and Williams (2002), expert teachers manifest three primary qualities: they possess expert knowledge, they are efficient, and they have creative insight. Each of these characteristics will be discussed below from a semiotic perspective that underlines how expertise in teaching is reflected by the sign processes introduced in chapters 1 and 6. expert teachers possess expert knowledge From their extensive experience, expert teachers display substantial and deeply structured knowledge about matters such as: content knowledge,

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or knowledge of the subject matter to be taught; pedagogical knowledge, or knowledge of how to teach; pedagogical content knowledge, or knowledge of how to teach the subject matter; organizing for teaching within the foregoing three categories; and the context in which the teaching will occur. Each category of increasing knowledge reflects the growing, developing sign that exemplifies the process of semiosis, or learning. Drawing from Peirce’s (1992, 1998) arguments and his universal categories as summarized in chapter 6, the Firstness of quality or feeling leads to the extensive (for experts) experience of Secondness, which is followed by the principles of Thirdness. In other words, expert teachers are highly skilled in reading the signs of knowledge pertaining to various aspects of teaching. expert teachers are efficient Expert teachers manifest all the highly proficient characteristics of Stage 5 as described by Dreyfus and Dreyfus (1986). That is, they perform intuitively from a deep understanding of the situation, they appear unaware of situational rules and features, and they act with high proficiency, fluidity, and flexibility. In the classroom, mental processes that require substantial time and energy in novices give way to smooth, automatic, and embodied actions. Expert teachers are such astute readers of the many available contextual signs that they can defuse potential discipline problems before they emerge and interpret class moods and actions in rich, insightful, and meaningful ways that far exceed those of novices. In a variety of ways – for example, when addressing management issues – experts manifest abductive processes by seeking explanations of existing problems; they follow this with deductive and inductive processes for testing their hypotheses. Accordingly, expert teachers display highly efficient behaviours and solutions to problems. expert teachers have creative insight Insight, intuition, hunches, and guessing are synonymous concepts in Peirce’s theorizing. And all are involved centrally in abduction, that is, in the logic of discovery implicated in the creation of all new knowledge (see chapter 6). Expert teachers have assimilated the extensive number of cases in their experience, and this enables them to arrive at novel and creative solutions to classroom. In their approach to problems, experts can differentiate relevant from irrelevant information, combine relevant information in useful ways, and apply information to teaching that was acquired elsewhere.

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Suggestions for New Teachers Given that it will take some time for you, the beginning teacher, to show signs of expert behaviour in the classroom, what can you do now to demonstrate the most proficient teaching possible for a newcomer? Several suggestions follow: 1 Collect every item of information that is available or offered to you. Only experience will tell you which items should be kept, but in the meantime you will be at least partially prepared for many teaching situations. 2 Use your year(s) of teacher preparation to read widely in your teaching areas and to learn about the latest directions in education. Read and think about the various theories of human learning, and catch up on the latest research in your area. Once you begin teaching you will not have the time you do now for sustained research and thinking. 3 Keep an open mind about the type of school you want to teach in. Every school situation has its own challenges and possibilities for success, so do not let your preconceived ideas restrict your opportunities. 4 Be organized and prepared, especially in your first year of teaching. 5 Do not be shy about asking experienced teachers for help. They may be too busy to make the first approach, but most are more than willing to offer guidance and suggestions. In addition, they already know the school’s procedures and how best to satisfy them. You should not feel that you are alone in the school with a particular difficulty. 6 Talk also with fellow beginning teachers, who may be experiencing the same pressures and frustrations you are. You will feel better simply sharing information and feelings with them. 7 Go into the school committed to treating every student fairly and justly, even if you do not hit it off with a particular adolescent. Try to find something positive about each individual so that you have something to build on. 8 Learn how to talk to parents before you start calling the students’ homes. Know how to phrase things properly so that the parent believes that you have his or her child’s best interests at heart and that the two of you can work together on the student’s behalf. Demonstrating Expertise Most expert teachers maintain that approaches to teaching should be consonant with what we know about how adolescents develop and learn. But having said that, they are also quick to add that no single approach

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to teaching and learning suits everyone. Rather, a number of approaches to teaching exist that are consistent with knowledge about learning and development in adolescence and that are also consistent with differing philosophical orientations as to how people learn most effectively. At every step, teacher judgments are required for making decisions about the instructional setting. In light of their knowledge about such matters, expert teachers consider a number of factors such as the following: students’ prior knowledge, attitudes, reading ability, and need for structure; domain from which the knowledge is drawn; characteristics of the knowledge to be taught; and the resources available to them, including their own attitudes, teaching strengths, time, and experience. In this section we examine several teaching arrangements that beginning teachers can adopt. In so doing we will be cognizant of the following facts: learners construct their own meanings in these arrangements; the knowledge they acquire is complex; prior knowledge plays a major role in their ongoing learning; learning never ceases; and students are motivated to learn things that matter to them both personally and socially. Cooperative Learning Expert teachers employ a variety of strategies in their classrooms, including individualized instruction, discovery learning, reciprocal teaching, group work, and cooperative learning (e.g., Sternberg & Williams, 2002). The fifth strategy, learning in cooperative teams, is an important instructional strategy for teachers who have moved beyond the behavioural paradigm to the cultural constructivist perspective. Having students work in structured, cooperative groups is now a well established instructional method, but there are some specific guidelines relating to its use in classrooms (see Qin, Johnson & Johnson, 1995; Slavin & Cooper, 1999). Groups usually consist of three to six students, with four being considered the best number. These groups are usually balanced according to sex, ethnicity, and ability, although expert teachers also pay attention to any interpersonal difficulties that may be developing among group members. In fact, interpersonal skills in these groups (for example, help giving) usually have to be taught directly by the teacher. Teachers may assign roles to group members and then teach the elements of each role to the student bearing it. Typical roles are coach, praiser, encourager, question commander, checker, taskmaster, recorder, and materials monitor. These roles should encourage thoughtful discussion, persistence, participation, brainstorming, and creativity. The group objective is the learning to be achieved rather than the enactment of the roles.

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Cooperative learning groups offer several advantages. When successful, such groups increase the achievement of every student in the group. Also students in groups must interact with one another in order to reach the group’s objectives and this is to the good. Finally cooperative learning increases student tolerance for those of different genders and cultural backgrounds. Every student in a group must complete the same exercises, discussing the answers as they go. When everyone understands the questions, the group work ceases and the students take a quiz on the content just completed. Rewards are sometimes given for points earned. In jigsaw activities each student is assigned – and expected to become competent in – one portion of the material to be learned. He or she then teaches that material to the other group members. Later, individual tests are taken on the material learned. Expert teachers acknowledge that cooperative groups may also have some disadvantages. Some group interactions affect learning negatively (for example, popular group members may have undue influence on the group, and exceptional students may be ignored). Also, students may place more value on doing and finishing the product quickly rather than on meaningful learning (McCaslin & Good, 1996). Furthermore, group work may enhance rather than reduce status differences. Finally – and this is linked to previous points – some students may not do their share of the work. Mastery Learning Mastery learning is based on the old belief, traceable to such early educators as Comenius and Pestalozzi, that all students can learn when provided with conditions that are appropriate for their learning, such as sufficient time and proper instruction. Today these conditions usually mean group-based and teacher-paced instruction that relies heavily on students learning in cooperation with their classmates. A brief synthesis of research on mastery learning has been provided by Guskey and Gates (1986). Seven highlights of their meta-analysis of twenty-seven well-designed studies are reproduced here. 1 Achievement results are overwhelmingly positive but vary greatly from study to study. 2 Positive effects are somewhat larger in elementary and junior high school classes than in high school classes. 3 Positive effects in language arts and social studies are slightly greater than those in science and mathematics.

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4 When compared with traditional instruction, mastery learning classes show longer retention of material. 5 Students in mastery classes develop more positive attitudes about learning and about their ability to learn. 6 Teachers using mastery learning develop more positive attitudes towards teaching, higher expectations for students, and greater personal responsibility for learning outcomes, but may experience diminished confidence in their teaching skills. To use mastery learning, the expert teacher must break down the course into small units of study. Each unit involves mastering several specific objectives, and mastery of each objective is demonstrated by a score of from 80 to 90 per cent on a test or other means of assessment. Students who do not reach the criterion score or who wish to improve their grades recycle through the unit before taking another form of the test. Students who do not reach mastery may require extra help, which can be provided by peer tutors, remedial materials, other group members, or the teacher. Students who quickly reach mastery may be given enrichment activities such as independent work, computer simulations, or research projects. It seems that mastery learning is best used when the course focus is on central concepts or skills that are the foundation for later learning. Mathematics, for example, is composed of many basic skills (such as the multiplication of fractions) that should be learned early before students become immersed in more difficult concepts and procedures. There are, it should be noted, some disadvantages to the mastery approach. Teachers need alternative instructional and test materials for students who do not reach mastery the first time. Individual differences in achievement continue to exist among students. Some students work harder than others to take advantage of the learning opportunities available. Some students exit the unit with a much better understanding of it than their classmates. Finally, some students are discouraged at having to work through a unit a second time. Homework A critical dimension of formal learning relates to the nature and duration of engagement with the material to be learned once school is finished for the day. Homework is more than just a local matter that involves you and the students in your classroom. In fact, it involves all the teachers of a given student, school policy, student engagement with extra-curricular activities at school or elsewhere, after-hours jobs that

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students hold in the community, and the public’s perception of what schools are all about. Accordingly, expert teachers learn quickly how much homework, and what sort of homework, is possible and reasonable for their students. Research has shown that there is no simple relationship between the amount of homework assigned and student achievement (e.g., Newmann, 1991). Clearly, though, the homework must be appropriate, challenging, and relevant to student performance. Frequent, smaller assignments are better for learning than less frequent, larger ones (Cooper, 1989). Good homework assignments prompt student interest and compel them to reason with concepts learned in class, but they do not duplicate work already done at school. Homework should be a natural outcome of a learner’s experiences and should help develop independent study habits. Also, homework should help the adolescent gain a mastery of the materials or skills introduced in class. The following are some relevant guidelines for teachers concerning the assignment of homework: • Ordinarily, no assignment should exceed thirty minutes per teacher per night (with each teacher claiming no more than two or three nights per week for homework). • Homework should be done primarily for practice; it should not include new work not yet introduced in class. • Teachers should assign homework only in the amounts that they (or someone else) are willing to check, grade, or review. • Homework assignments should never be given hurriedly at the last minute; rather, all students must understand exactly what is being asked. • Homework must be within the ability of every adolescent to accomplish successfully. • Generally, homework should not be assigned over weekends or holidays, as students need time to do other things, to be with their families and friends, and even to do nothing. • Homework should never be given as punishment. • Homework should not be tested, as it constitutes part of the formal instructional process. The Parent–Teacher Interview Throughout this book, we have emphasized the sociocultural matrix in

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which teachers function. This matrix does not include just the classroom and the school; it extends into the family lives of your students as well as into the wider community. Sooner or later you will encounter the parents or guardians of your students. Typically, meetings with parents revolve around either inappropriate student behaviour in class or student academic performance in your teaching subject. This section provides some guidelines that expert teachers follow to conduct productive discussions with parents. Nine general guidelines can be prescribed for most interviews (e.g., Wolf & Stephens, 1989): 1 Begin on a friendly basis. Welcome the parents and introduce yourself (and anyone else present). 2 Specify the purpose of the interview. 3 Focus on the student. Begin with the positive, use open-ended questions (‘How does Heinz feel about school?’), avoid comparisons with other students, be specific (‘I’ve noticed that Laura appears tired and easily distracted lately. Here are some examples of what I’m seeing ...’), and stay on topic. 4 Listen. Seek parent opinions, attend to both parents if present, minimize your talking, avoid value judgments about the home situation and parent actions, and do not place blame on anyone. 5 Receive information with openness and sensitivity. Encourage discussion. Accept the parents’ observations of the student at home, but also point out what you’ve seen at school. 6 Consider the parents’ cultural backgrounds. Cultures differ in their views about parent–student–teacher, parent–child, and husband–wife relationships. 7 Pay attention to kinesic (body language) signs. Watch facial expressions, voice tones, hesitations, and so on for clues about the parents’ presentation or reception of information. 8 Inform in a clear and concise way. Avoid educational jargon, use specific examples of the student’s work to support your points, describe the student’s difficulties precisely and say what is being done to address them, seek parental questions or opinions, and be honest but discreet. 9 Close the discussion effectively. Ask for further questions, summarize the main points, review the plan of action, establish a future meeting time, tell parents how they can support the student, encourage them to share the interview information with him or her, indicate that you

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are always willing to communicate with them, and thank them for their time and efforts to better understand the student. Appraising One’s Own Performance Expert teachers take two main actions that separate them from nonexpert teachers: they behave in ways that promote healthy relationships and enhance learning in others, and they engage in reflective thinking that permits them to reflect on their practice, including classroom and school matters that are going well and not so well for them (e.g., Brookfield, 1995). In the preceding sections we looked at some signs that distinguish expertise in teaching. In this section we focus on reflection and also – based on available or recalled signs – on the practice of appraising one’s own teaching performance. As public as teaching is from some perspectives, it is also a private occupation for many teachers. These teachers close their classroom doors, function by themselves without the aid or support of their colleagues, and must adjust their performances without the benefit of detached and objective observations. Of course, the students are excellent judges of what is good teaching from their own perspectives. As well, we should never forget that students are (or should be) the real consumers of the system and, in that capacity, can provide many useful suggestions for the teacher. However, because teaching is a profession that also involves many out-of-class variables, it is helpful to also get the perspectives of those who are familiar with external facets. When judging teaching performances, one question arises immediately: What criteria should be used to determine who is, and who is not, an expert teacher? Unfortunately (or fortunately!), there is no one answer. Different individuals are differentially successful in teaching various subjects to students of different ages, abilities, and motivations. Excellent teachers in one setting may not be so effective in a different setting. There are, however, three main qualities that are usually considered important in the ‘best teacher’ equation. These qualities are listed below then considered in order: 1 Character and personality. Expert teachers possess certain personality characteristics that reflect maturity and good mental health. 2 Relationships with others. Expert teachers establish warm, trusting relationships with students (especially), fellow teachers, and administrators.

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Expert teachers read many kinds of classroom signs.

3 Professional knowledge. Expert teachers have acquired the requisite subject matter knowledge and qualifications in order to inform and motivate the students in their charge. The first factor to be considered is character and personality. Teachers who know, accept, and like themselves will provide a firm backdrop for adolescents who are struggling to do likewise. These teachers are selfconfident without being arrogant and are self-secure. Teachers who show self-security and maturity do not need to belittle others in order to prove themselves. They do not need to overcompensate for their failures, or project their inadequacies on others, or blame others for their own shortcomings. Instead, they are readily able to form accepting and trusting relationships that are devoid of undercurrents of power and anxiety of one kind or another. Most students’ emotional development is aided by teachers who are emotionally stable and temperamentally even. These teachers are patient (most of the time), possess high tolerances for frustration and ambiguity, and are not subject to wild mood swings. This constellation of attributes seems especially important to students’ feelings of security and to their developing and still shaky self-images. Emotionally secure and mature teachers are able to do many things that support their mandates in the classroom:

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• They can hear, understand, and present many sides of an issue, and can keep an open mind on difficult questions. • They are able to hear students’ different points of view without feeling threatened. • They can adjust to changing class schedules or course demands to promote learning. • They are relatively free of racial, sexual, religious, and other biases. These teachers are culturally grounded; however, they recognize this fact and can appreciate that everyone else is too – even though the culture involved may be different from their own. • They can show kindness, love, and respect for other people. • They are tolerant, impartial, and fair. In general, these teachers are happy and pleasant people. They maintain good mental and physical health to withstand the rigours of teaching and to show the enthusiasm for learning that will motivate young people. The second factor is relationships with others. Some of the preceding personality characteristics are implicated, of course. However, if the central element of the first factor can be described as looking inwards at oneself, then this component can be seen as looking outwards from oneself. Expert teachers have satisfying social relationships with their colleagues and with their peers outside school. Thus, they do not need to look to adolescents to meet their own emotional and social needs. Those who get along well with their school colleagues, who enjoy personal lives as individuals and family members, and who are respected by others bring a reservoir of strength to the classroom that benefits young people. Expert teachers also like and respect adolescents both individually and collectively, and enjoy being with them. Expert teachers are not prejudiced against, or reluctant to form professional relationships with, adolescents of all races and religions. In particular, they are prepared to like and accept students who are unhealthy, unattractive, rebellious, and poorly adjusted; most of these students are in desperate need of adult love, support, and guidance. Such teachers understand and are sympathetic to the stresses and demands of adolescence, and strive to promote the development of confident and self-reliant young adults. Hamachek (1995, 427), in his fine chapter on understanding oneself, offers an excellent summary statement on these first two categories: ‘Consciously, we teach what we know. Unconsciously, we teach who we are.’

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The third factor is professional knowledge. Over the past thirty or forty years there has been increasing demand that teachers be knowledgeable about the subject matter they will be teaching in school. Teachers today receive financial and professional rewards for increasing the depth and breadth of their knowledge about the subject matter, and how to teach it. It is fair to say that the quality of teachers in terms of professional preparation has never been higher. Typically, secondary teachers have spent several university years studying the subject matter they have been assigned to teach. This is not to suggest, however, that the beginning teacher will never be assigned to subjects or students no one else wants, and for which the teacher may not feel at all well prepared. The knowledgeable teacher is able to be relaxed and comfortable with the subject matter involved, and is ready to take advantage of teachable moments by virtue of being familiar with the topic. The knowledgeable teacher is able, from the content, to teach about existing relationships and principles that the adolescent has not thought of (recall from chapter 6 the role of surprise in learning), and thereby maintain and raise student motivation to learn about a particular subject. This teacher creates exams that are fair tests of classroom material and that may go beyond the usual paper-and-pencil format. The knowledgeable teacher also works hard to prepare interesting and engaging lessons and to ensure that students understand the concepts involved. Apart from these characteristics, what can teachers do to monitor their own performances? Many signs exist to support this monitoring. For example, useful information can be gained by assessing student reactions to the content presented, monitoring the results of homework assignments, tests, and exams, and specifically seeking student feedback on instructional units. In schools where colleagues have good working relationships with one another, teachers can ask a colleague to sit in on classes occasionally and to critique the lessons. In these and other ways, the teacher who evaluates personal achievements in the classroom is more likely to remain interested in learning and in the welfare and development of the students. Such a teacher engages regularly in critical reflection (e.g., Brookfield, 1995) and may employ action research on a regular basis both to improve classroom practice and to take full responsibility for his or her ongoing professional development. Action research has become a powerful tool in the hands of practising teachers who are seeking information concerning a problem or dilemma in their teaching. Action research typically involves the following four steps (e.g., Mills, 2000):

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Project Which of your personal characteristics do you think has the potential to enhance your role as teacher? Which may cause you some difficulty as a teacher? To turn the question just a little, if you knew a teacher with the same personality characteristics that you have, would you choose this person to teach your child? Share your perspectives with a trusted classmate who knows you well and who is willing to undergo the same exercise.

1 Identify a specific issue or problem. Then identify one or more questions related to the problem and devise a research plan that includes resources, data collection techniques, and a research schedule. 2 Collect the data. Multiple sources are possible and may include interviews, student journals, questionnaires, test results, and observations in class. 3 Analyse and interpret the data. Look for patterns in the data and relate those patterns to the original research questions. 4 Develop an action plan. Use the information to take action in your classroom – for example, to change instructional strategies or the classroom environment. Expectations and Self-Fulfilling Prophecies People tend to have certain expectations of others concerning present or future behaviours and achievements. Typically, these expectations are created by a variety of past experiences that may or may not involve specific individuals. That is, expectations of others can be created by any sign or series of signs (such as a history of personal contact), by reading or listening to media accounts, or by discussions with third parties. More to the point in the present discussion, teachers come to hold expectations about the students in their classes through these same means. Similarly, students come to hold expectations about their teachers. However, because of their greater potential impact in today’s schools, teachers’ expectations will be considered here. Although human expectations may be part of our evolutionary history, specific mention of the self-fulfulling prophecy is much more

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recent. In the seventeenth century, reference was made to the notion that a false but widely believed prophecy could become true simply because enough people believed in it. The term self-fulfilling prophecy was introduced in 1948 by social psychologist Robert Merton, who argued that the phenomenon begins with an incorrect definition of a situation that induces the behaviour necessary to make the definition come true. According to Wineburg (1987), the term was introduced into the educational literature in 1963. However, today it is associated mainly with the touchstone study conducted in 1968 by Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobson. In their study, Rosenthal and Jacobson (1968) gave a disguised IQ test to different classes of elementary school children in a low-income district of San Francisco. They then identified a short list of children in each classroom who were expected to ‘bloom’ during the coming academic year. However, the bloomers were determined by a table of random numbers and not by the test results. The teachers were given the lists of bloomers but, of course, were not informed of the real way that the lists were created. The IQ tests were administered again four months later and yet again at the end of the school year. The authors contended that the greatest intellectual gains came from the children identified earlier as bloomers, and that the gains were largest in the earliest grades. However, in the years following this study’s publication, the methodology and some of the claims of the research – but especially the unjustified assertions made by others – came under sustained criticism (see Wineburg, 1987, and the accompanying reactions for a more recent commentary on some of the issues involved). Recall that the study sought to create teacher expectations for bloomers only, and not for students in the control group who were considered average. Thus the research was concerned simply with overestimating, not underestimating, children’s abilities. The data claimed to show only IQ gains on Flanagan’s Test of General Ability, nothing more. No classroom observations were carried out to ascertain whether teacher behaviour varied systematically between bloomers and others, and no relevant interviews were conducted with the children involved. Thus the term self-fulfilling prophecy, its specific link to the Rosenthal and Jacobson study, and its more general link to teacher expectations must be approached with care. With this caution, let us consider briefly the topic of teacher expectations and how teacher behaviour can reflect those expectations. The literature reports various teacher behaviours that may stem from differences in student sex, race, ethnicity, and socio-economic status

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(e.g., Sadker, Sadker & Klein, 1991). For example, studies have found that high school males receive more teacher interactions than high school females as well as more complex and abstract questions. Males receive more comments of both approval and disapproval, and more frequent and more specific teacher evaluations of their in-class comments. With respect to race and ethnicity, reduced teacher expectations of nonwhite children have been reported often. These lowered expectations have been attributed to less effective use of standard English, miscommunication of verbal and non-verbal messages, perceived reduced physical attractiveness, and perceived depressed achievement for the minority group as a whole. Teachers have been found to behave differently towards those perceived as low achievers. With these students, teachers interact less, interrupt more, give less time to respond to a question, give easier questions, demand less, praise less often, smile less, and discipline more. Thus there seems to be little doubt that teachers’ expectations can be reflected in their behaviour and that students can perceive those same expectations. All of the foregoing behaviours constitute important signs for the students and other third parties with regard to the teachers’ attitudes towards the less-favoured. It can be stated with some confidence that most students are strongly aware of the views held by their teachers towards certain students even if those views are never stated openly. Thus, because teachers are also human beings, they will develop expectations about their students’ abilities and potentials. That is not the problem. The problem for the students arises when those expectations are generated by selected staff room stories or by inadequate samples of class work, or by behaviours that are simply different from what the teachers are used to. Expert teachers do not jump to conclusions, are not persuaded by hearsay, and do not rush to judgments about their students without a good amount of confirming evidence. As a developing teacher, then, how can you develop accurate and positive expectations of your students? Several suggestions are offered: 1 Let every student begin each term with a fresh slate, no matter what has happened in the past. 2 Gather as much information as you can in as objective a manner as possible. 3 Try to look at all facets of a student’s life if things do not make sense. 4 Treat everyone with dignity and respect, and value the differences the students bring to your classroom.

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Teaching Satisfactions and Dissatisfactions Fortunately, both for themselves and for their students, most secondary school teachers are satisfied with their jobs. When asked what is most satisfying about teaching, the most frequent answers involve working with the students. Teachers for the most part enjoy very much associating with young, enthusiastic, and hopeful minds that serve to keep them fully involved with the issues of the day. The main reward often cited by teachers is having a single student undergo the experience somewhat along the lines of ‘Aha, I’ve got it! Now I understand!’ Other satisfactions often cited by teachers include getting to know the students outside class by being involved in extra-curricular activities. One consequence of successive years of reduced teacher hiring in various North American jurisdictions is the noticeable increase in the average age of teachers. This ageing of the profession has been substantial enough to threaten the continuation of some of the school’s extra-curricular activities, such as basketball and track and field. The benefits of the job – especially adequate salary levels and summers away from the classroom – and the chance to work with and otherwise associate with fellow teachers, are also listed as satisfactions. According to King, Warren & Peart (1988, 93), the following are the ten most satisfying aspects of being a teacher: 1 The rapport and relationship with young people. 2 Times when students suddenly understand or enjoy the teacher’s points. 3 Student success, achievement, and satisfaction. 4 Interaction with and support from colleagues. 5 Influencing the growth, character, and attitudes of students. 6 Involvement in extra-curricular activities. 7 The subject matter taught, and developing curriculum. 8 Teaching a lesson well. 9 Helping individual students with personal or academic problems. 10 Feedback from students at the end of the year or after graduation. King and Peart (1992) found differences in satisfaction among different groups of teachers. For example, teachers in the oldest age category, sixty-one and over, were a small but highly satisfied group of teachers. It seems that those who have chosen to stay on in teaching beyond the usual retirement years are very satisfied with their jobs. Secondary teach-

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ers in art, library, guidance, and special education (from 25 to 17 per cent in the high-satisfaction group) were more satisfied with teaching than those in French, technological education, computer studies, and business education (from 12 to 9 per cent in the high-satisfaction group). The authors attributed the differences to greater autonomy and the opportunity to work frequently with students on a one-to-one basis in the former cluster of subject areas. Naturally, as is the case with any job, some dissatisfactions with teaching can be listed. The dissatisfaction voiced most often relates to the school administration and is directed at either the people or the paperwork in the front office. In terms of people, some principals are thought to be too far and too long removed from classrooms to understand the current pressures on teachers. These principals are prone to make decisions that lack both teacher input and teacher support. In terms of the paperwork, teachers complain that there are too many forms to complete in too short a time. A second set of frequent complaints relates to class sizes that are too large, and class time that is too brief, to allow work with individual students. The large class sizes are viewed as posing particular problems for two groups of teachers. The first group consists of teachers trying to teach in inclusive classes. These teachers would prefer to have more time to spend with each of the different ability groups to be found therein. The second group most affected by large class sizes is teachers in subjects such as English, who must spend a great deal of out-of-class time reading and evaluating student assignments. However, the literature on class sizes does not show that reducing class size automatically increases student benefits; teachers must first change their teaching approaches to take advantage of smaller classes before academic gains are registered. Some teachers – especially those teaching academically oriented courses for students who are university bound – feel restrained by curriculum guidelines that compel them to maintain particular schedules no matter what the class circumstances. Teachers with other levels of courses do not report this problem to the same degree. Although some teachers are quite content to follow prescribed guidelines, others – possibly those who are more creative, knowledgeable, and energetic – prefer to develop and present their own material. Three other categories of complaints about teaching are often voiced by teachers. The first of these involves the general behaviour of those students who seem not to care about themselves, other people, or school.

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Related to this, teachers are very concerned about the out-of-school lives led by some students that make the completion of homework highly unlikely. Second, teachers complain at times about the negative image of teachers and teaching as reflected in the press and by some parents (such comments usually revolve around notions of high pay, little work, short days, and summers off). Third, many teachers are dissatisfied with the low budgets available to support the acquisition of teaching materials such as books, reference materials, and electronic media such as videotapes, films, and computer software. One final topic that often appears on a list of teacher dissatisfactions involves the lack of recognition for doing a tough job well. King and Peart (1992) found that 40 per cent of teachers agreed with the statement ‘I receive little recognition for my teaching performance from school administrators.’ The work of exemplary teachers is not recognized formally by increased salaries (in fact, the further removed one is from the students and from classroom teaching, the higher one’s salary is likely to be!), or by promotions to jobs such as ‘head teacher,’ or by any other means. School boards could demonstrate their appreciation and support for excellent teaching in a variety of ways. For example, they could make public statements of appreciation to selected individuals, and support excellent teachers who wish to attend occasional professional conferences. Recognition, not money, is the issue here. To summarize, the following items represent the ten least satisfying aspects of being a teacher, apparently in decreasing order of importance (King, Warren & Peart, 1988, 86): 1 Time demands, with too much marking, lesson preparation, administrivia, and deadlines. 2 Discipline and attendance problems; confrontations with students. 3 Student apathy, negative attitudes, and lack of motivation. 4 Lack of administrative support or poor administration. 5 Colleagues’ negative attitudes; incompetent teachers. 6 Working conditions, lack of materials, and low budgets. 7 Lack of teaching security, declining enrolments. 8 Large class size. 9 Government directives, changing curriculum content. 10 Lack of public and parental support; negative attitudes towards education from the wider society. When these aspects start dominating teachers’ lives, job stress may

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reach unhealthy levels. Because of the prevalence of stress among today’s teachers, with the attending social costs, this topic is examined next. Teacher Stress Until twenty years ago, the research showed little empirical support for claims that teaching was a stressful occupation (Hiebert & Farber, 1984). Although a current analysis remains to be done, social conditions and government actions since 1984 have perhaps altered that situation. It seems that over the past two or so decades, one of the most frequently uttered words in school staff rooms has been ‘burnout.’ Generally, this term refers to a major effect of teaching-induced stress, the topic to be examined in this section. The usual signs of stress, and the typical manifestations of burnout, include the following: apathy about school-related matters, low morale, dissatisfaction with school life, poor lesson preparation for classes, poor relationships with the students, and early retirement from teaching. King and Peart (1992) addressed the topic of stress in Canadian schools at some length. They devised a six-item stress scale that addressed four concepts: physical exhaustion, poor relationship with students, inability to meet the needs of students, family, and self, and sense of powerlessness (see p. 110). Responses to the six items were as follows (the percentages of teachers agreeing with the two items Almost Always and Frequently are shown in parentheses): 1 I do not have sufficient time to provide adequate help for students who are having difficulty. (77 per cent) 2 I am exhausted at the end of a regular school day. (55 per cent) 3 My daily workload is too heavy to do my job well. (45 per cent) 4 I am able to influence decisions which directly affect me. (39 per cent) 5 The time demands of my job interfere with my family responsibilities. (28 per cent) 6 I become impatient with some of my students. (9 per cent) Results for about 16 per cent of all secondary teachers fell into the high-stress group. In this group of highly stressed individuals, teachers of business education (22 per cent), computer studies (22 per cent), drama (22 per cent), and art (20 per cent) were most frequently represented, while teachers of guidance (14 per cent), library science (14 per cent),

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technological education (13 per cent), and physical education (12 per cent) appeared less frequently. Stress levels were more or less the same for teachers in either urban centres and in smaller, rural communities. Teachers between fifty-one to sixty, but especially sixty-one and over, showed the least amount of stress. Again, as was the situation with teacher satisfaction, we might surmise that those who are still teaching beyond normal retirement age are demonstrating their love of the job by choosing to remain in the classroom and by finding ways to resist or adapt to the assorted pressures that distress some of their younger colleagues. Factors Associated with Stress among Teachers Having reviewed the existing literature and gathered their own data, King and Peart (1992) considered six factors associated with stress among teachers. These factors are examined below. workload and time demands Teachers who felt highly stressed often agreed that they had too much paperwork, too many deadlines to meet, and too little preparation time. Stress increased markedly as out-of-school marking and lesson preparation time increased from zero to eleven or more hours per week. Class size was cited as another factor in creating stress, as larger numbers of students mean more marking, more diversity in students’ backgrounds, and the increasing inability to meet individual students’ needs. Split- or multi-grade classes also increased stress levels, as extra preparation time and altered management techniques are required for these classes. From King and Peart (1992, 116): [The most stressful aspect of teaching is the] workload – a ridiculous amount of work and paper shuffling. If you want to do a good job, you put in countless hours of personal time at the expense of family time. At some points in the year, you feel there is nothing else in your life. (Female, 33 years old, Grades 9–11, business education)

lack of recognition and support from administrators The role of school administrators is critical to the well-being of most teachers. The principal’s leadership style, communication skills, and concern for the teachers and students are key to a positive school atmosphere. Teachers in the high-stress group were far less likely than others to feel that the principal supported them in disciplinary and other mat-

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ters or offered them helpful feedback. Teachers were deeply appreciative when their school administrators showed interest in their teaching. From King and Peart (1992, 119): The most stressful aspect of teaching for me is the lack of communication between administration and staff, the uncertainty of support, the lack of positive feedback, the lack of a clearly perceived and followed policy/philosophy in the school. (Female, 45 years old, Grades 11–12, English/ English as second language)

student behaviour Interactions with students provided some teachers with their most enjoyable moments; other teachers found their interactions with students highly stressful. Stress was most likely to arise when teachers had difficulty maintaining classroom discipline. These teachers tended to link students’ negative behaviours with weak parenting and changes in family structure. From King and Peart (1992, 119): If I were to compare the first 20 years of teaching with the last 14, I find the first 20 years were not as stressful as the last 14, mainly because kids are harder to manage these days, there’s not as much discipline. I go home in the evenings much more mentally tired now than I used to. (Male, 34 years of experience, Grades 8–9, mathematics/English/other)

status in the community Teachers’ stress levels were inversely proportional to the level of respect they felt they received from the community. To be specific, only 37 per cent of teachers in the high-stress group agreed with this statement: ‘Teachers in this community are well-respected.’ From King and Peart (1992, 140): The status of teachers is quite low here. A standard ploy that has been used by our school board is, at bargaining time, to run a propaganda campaign in the paper about the very low quality of teaching in our division ... therefore, we do not deserve to get any kind of wage increase; in fact we should be giving money back. (Male, 17 years of experience, Grades 9–12, science/mathematics)

government policies and policy implementation Recent years have seen many profound changes in government policies

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in education; these relate variously to curriculum changes, alterations in school and municipal organization, and funding. Most teachers believed that in instituting these myriad changes, governments were responding to public and electoral pressures rather than to educational concerns. Teachers suffering the highest stress tended to believe that they had little input into, or influence on, these government initiatives. From King and Peart (1992, 120): [The most stressful aspect of teaching is the] lack of budget for books and materials. The lack of stability and structure in the courses as they are constantly reorganized by the Ministry, without consideration for materials, teachers, or students. (Male, 41 years old, Grades 7–9, English/computer studies)

societal expectations Teachers in this study often commented on the additional roles society now expected them to play, from teaching condom use and bike safety to educating about aids. They often felt frustrated that they had to deliver programs for which they did not feel adequately qualified and that took time away from the required curriculum. Teachers believed that they were now performing functions traditionally handled by parents and social agencies. They considered it ironic that they were expected to take on more and more responsibility while being given less and less respect by the community. From King and Peart (1992, 122): Society expects teachers to do much more than teach. They expect us to be teachers, parents, guidance counsellors, nurses and psychologists. Some parents expect us to work miracles. More ‘onus’ has to be put back on parents – they have to be accountable for their son’s/daughter’s actions. There has to be more support directly from the local school boards – they make the policies and expect the teachers to carry them out without properly informing us. (Female, 39 years old, Grades 10–11, French as a second language)

Effects of Stress Teachers declaring high levels of stress mentioned assorted health symptoms such as depression, chest pains, and physical collapse. Teachers showing the highest levels of absenteeism (eleven days or more during the previous year) were more apt to be in the high-stress group than

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in the low-stress group (with zero to five days absent). Also, most teachers choose to retire when they are between fifty-five and sixty years old, when their pensions are at a maximum; however, in this study, teachers under high stress tended to leave teaching before they were forty-five. From King and Peart (1992, 124): I am currently under a psychiatrist’s care for depression – caused by a chemical deficiency/imbalance as a result of stress. Most of this seems to be caused by my job. In summer, it basically disappears (6 years to retirement!). (Male, 48 years old, Grades 10–12, technological education)

Dealing with Stress Most teachers are aware of the possibility of stress in teaching and recognize most of the signs of stress. Most are also able to act on their own behalf to reduce or even avoid entirely the debilitating effects of stress. Four main strategies for dealing with stress are often mentioned. recognizing that they cannot do all that could be done These teachers acknowledge that they could be even better teachers if they put in longer hours outside school, but have chosen instead to live more balanced lives. Others take advantage of the student resources available in class to check homework and perform other routine tasks that many teachers do at home. engaging in other unrelated activities These teachers fish, hunt, take photographs, go on bike rides, take long walks, go to movies, read adventure books – in fact, they engage in almost any activity that does not involve groups, that permits some time alone, and that takes them totally away from teaching. sharing concerns with family Many teachers reduce their levels of stress by discussing their concerns with family members, such as spouses and parents. Others also share their feelings with good friends, who may or may not be connected with teaching. seeking change and challenge These teachers deliberately seek out new experiences, such as working on a curriculum committee in order to empower teachers or preparing

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Tips for Teachers How to Manage Your Time Better to Ease Stress 1 Write down your goals for the coming year; be specific. 2 Establish a plan to determine the number of hours per week that you need to meet your year’s goals, and stick with it. 3 Delegate tasks that others can do. 4 Do it now; don’t procrastinate, and say ‘no’ to jobs that do not advance your goals. 5 Take advantage of your prime time to do high-priority items. 6 Don’t be a pack rat; throw out items you are unlikely to need again and file the rest in easily found files and trays. 7 Use idle and travel time to do work. 8 Use the telephone wisely; don’t waste time on idle conversations. 9 Beware of meetings; hold them only when necessary, start and end on time, send out an agenda in advance, and set a time limit. 10 Write things down; don’t rely on your memory; always carry a pad of paper and pen with you for notes, due dates, and so on.

for a triathlon. Other teachers simply look for a way to slow down and relax (including getting lots of sleep). Surviving as a Teacher Every occupation has its good days and its bad days, and teaching is no exception. The good days take care of themselves: when we’ve experienced a highly successful class or when the entire school day has gone extremely well, the internal reward is obvious and should be accepted for what it is. On those occasions, there seem to be few questions about whether one should continue in teaching! The more difficult times come with the bad days, and we all have them, usually when we least expect or want them. These are the days when your well-prepared lessons fall flat, when you have strong disagreements with your principal or department head, or when everything you

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touch seems to turn to lead. These are the times that will test your commitments and your resolve to continue coming to school day after day. What can you do to help yourself on these occasions? How can you avoid collapsing mentally and physically? There are a number of steps, mainly of a preventive nature, that teachers can take to minimize the negative effects of bad days. One of the easiest and most obvious strategies is to maintain a number of outside interests, including physical activity. Then, when things are not going well at school for a period, you can escape by immersing yourself in your hobbies or other pursuits. However, if things never go well at school, and if you dread waking up every workday morning, then you would be well advised to find another occupation. If school is all that you have, and if it constitutes your entire life interest, then you are highly vulnerable to assorted school influences, many of which are beyond your control. Many people have found physical activity to be an excellent way to burn off job-related frustrations. Such activity can make you feel better about yourself; it can also make you healthier and more resistant to life’s pressures. Choose a sport or physical outlet that is compatible with your lifestyle, personality, and bank account. This may vary from skipping rope in your basement three times a week to hang gliding in the Rockies every other weekend. But whatever you do, do it with gusto. Lose yourself in the activity. Forget about school for a while. The second step is to strive to know, and to be, yourself. Any positive or negative event can be used as important information to permit small adjustments in who you think you are or in what you can do given the available resources. Thus, even a negative event can serve a useful purpose. It is important, too, to be yourself rather than some fictional ideal self that can never do any wrong. If you are human (and you are), and if you are trying new things (and you should), you will make mistakes and occasional errors of judgment. Some things will simply not work out the first time. The objective of these experiences is not to achieve perfection the first time, but rather to not make the same mistake twice. It is important to take your job, but not yourself, seriously; a sense of humour that permits you to laugh at yourself will be invaluable at times. The point about not being discouraged after a failure is important throughout life. Consider the following case: He ran federally for Prince Albert in 1925, and lost. He ran federally for Prince Albert in 1926, and lost. He ran provincially in 1929, and lost. He ran for mayor of Prince Albert in 1933, and lost. He ran provincially in

Signs of the Expert Teacher 333 1938, and lost (and his Saskatchewan Conservative Party, of which he was leader, won no seats). Only in 1940 was John Diefenbaker finally elected a Member of Parliament and on his way to becoming the Prime Minister of Canada in 1957.

One strategy for easing the blows of life is to place yourself in the role of learner as often as possible. The effects of bad days are minimized when a teacher is using the experience as an opportunity to learn. Such a person strives to learn from all sources, and that includes the students themselves. The ancient role of teacher as fount of all knowledge is long gone, given the many sources of knowledge today and the obvious abilities and experiences of many of your students. Show respect for the students and for all that they bring and can contribute to your classroom proceedings. In fact, you will find that sometimes the best lessons come from the least-expected quarters; students who may not be academic stars may possess extremely valuable knowledge and perspectives that can benefit you. Try to learn something from everyone. Teaching is a profession that demands much of its practitioners. Many experienced teachers find that they are gradually drained of energy, if not ideas, as the school year proceeds. One way to recharge one’s personal batteries and acquire new initiatives for teaching is to use the available holiday times to think, read, and do in areas of personal and professional interest. Escape from the classroom to other parts of the educational system seems not to hold much appeal for most teachers. For example, King, Warren, and Peart (1988) report that only one-third of teachers are interested in ‘promotion’ (because there are so few layers in teaching itself, promotion is often used synonymously with ‘job change to administration’). It is clear, though, that most teachers prefer to work in the classrooms alongside the students. This is where most of the work of formal learning (and much informal learning) takes place. Most teachers find the classroom so exciting and so vital that they are loathe to flee it for quieter places. Few of these teachers want to reconsider their decision to teach adolescents.

Selected Reading Brookfield, S.D. (1995). Becoming a critically reflective teacher. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

334 Teaching Adolescents A helpful resource for teachers wanting to know more about reflective practice and how to implement it. Both the rationale and methods of critical reflection are examined. Dreyfus, H.L., & Dreyfus, S.E. (1986). Mind over machine: The power of human intuition and expertise in the era of the computer. New York: Free Press. A still important reference on the topic of expertise. A five-stage model from novice to expert is elaborated in the context of demonstrating that important elements of human expert behaviour cannot be replicated by machines. Gallas, K. (1994). The languages of learning: How children talk, write, dance, draw and sing their understanding of the world. New York: Teachers College Press. This book deals reflectively with one teacher-researcher’s making of herself as an educator and her classroom as a learning community. Gallas focuses on the use of stories – her own and her students’ – in this making process, emphasizing the multiple modes of expression indicated in the title. Although her work is with young children, her insights are also relevant for the teaching of adolescents. Maslach, C. (1982). Burnout: The cost of caring. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: PrenticeHall. This is a sample from the stress and burnout literature by the author of a popular instrument to measure burnout. The book goes into much greater detail about preventing and dealing with stress-inducing situations than is possible in this chapter. Also, check the time management literature if organization is one of your problems. Peale, N.V. (1952). The power of positive thinking. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: PrenticeHall. One of the grandparent books in the self-help literature, with messages that are still valid today. There are now many other publications that seek to provide you with the knowledge (self- or other-), resources, and strength to find a silver lining in every cloud. Schön, D.A. (1983). The reflective practitioner. New York: Basic Books. The source that grounded the research and theory on reflective teaching for the ensuing fifteen years at least. A readable and important book for teachers.

Glossary

Abduction. Charles Peirce’s logic of discovery, in Firstness, characterized by making hunches or guessing. One of the three modes of inference (the other two are deduction and induction). Accommodations. Adjustments in teaching strategies, supports, and services needed by students to access the curriculum and display learning. Achievement motivation. The need for excellence for its own sake, without regard for possible associated external rewards. Adaptations. Anatomical structures, physiological processes, or behaviour patterns that contribute to individuals’ future ability to survive in competition with other members of their species (Crawford 1998). Adolescence. A transitional stage of development between childhood and adulthood, traditionally said to occur between the ages of twelve and twenty. Applied semiotics. The application of semiotic concepts and practices to real-life contexts and issues. Asperger syndrome. High-functioning autism showing the characteristics of autism except for severe communication difficulties (see Autism). At risk. Students who have not been diagnosed as having a specific disability or educational need, but whose prior school performance, life experiences, and behaviours suggest that assistance may be necessary. Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Patterns of inattention, impulsivity, and high activity that affect students’ ability to engage with school tasks. Many of these students take medication such as Ritalin to help their school performance. Authentic assessment. Also called performance assessment. An approach to assessment in which students are active participants, creating answers, products, and performances to demonstrate what they have learned. These tasks are often based on real-world problems.

336 Glossary

Autism. A developmental disability characterized by impaired social relations, communication difficulties, narrow interests, need for a highly predictable environment, and repetitive behaviours (see Asperger syndrome). Behaviourism. The study of learning as a change in observable behaviours caused by specifiable external events. Belief. For Peirce, a habit or action dependent on the surrounding world. Between-class grouping. An instructional arrangement in which students are assigned to different classes according to ability or achievement. Bibliotherapy. The use of books to deal with, prevent, or treat the problems of adolescence. Bloom’s taxonomy. Usually refers to the cognitive domain of this taxonomy in which test questions may be distributed from lower to higher levels among six categories: knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. Other lesser known and lesser used taxonomies are those for the affective and psychomotor domains. Case study. A research study involving one or a few individuals or settings. Typically descriptive in nature, the case study permits an indepth exploration of phenomena but, naturally, limited generalization to large groups. Chunking. The grouping of individual pieces of information into meaningful larger units. Classical conditioning. The form of learning first studied by Pavlov that occurs when a formerly neutral stimulus becomes able to elicit a response following frequent pairing with an unconditioned stimulus; also referred to as ‘respondent’ conditioning. Cognition. Generally, the domain concerned with all processes of knowing. More specifically, the process or faculties by which one acquires or reconstructs knowledge. Cognitive constructivism. The theoretical view that learners construct a body of knowledge from their personal experiences that may or may not coincide with that of others. Coming out. The developmental process whereby gay and lesbian people recognize their sexual preferences and choose to integrate this knowledge into their personal and social lives. Communication. The process whereby the recipients of acts or messages, whether these are sent deliberately or not, derive meanings that in some way affect their subsequent internal or external behaviours.

Glossary 337

Conditioned response. In classical conditioning, a response that begins to be elicited by a particular stimulus. Conditioned stimulus. In classical conditioning, a stimulus that begins to elicit a specific response. Constructivism. A view of learning in which the learner is assumed to play an active role in making sense and creating understanding of information or phenomena. Different schools of constructivism may emphasize either individual or sociocultural collective meanings. Contextualism. The world view that adopts the root metaphor of the historic event and that emphasizes history and situation. Events are seen as inherently situational and take their meanings from specific contexts (Pepper, 1942). Contingency contracting. A formal agreement in which teacher and student agree on behaviours to be exhibited before a final payoff is made. Corpus callosum. The large sheet or band of neural fibres that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain. Criterion-referenced assessment. A test that represents performance in terms of specific learning objectives that the student has mastered. Cultural constructivism. The theoretical view that learners construct knowledge in association with others and with the attending tools and artifacts of culture. Culture. The total shared way of life of a given people in which modes of thinking, acting, and feeling are expressed in religion, law, language, art, and customs as well as in material products such as houses, clothes, and tools. Deduction. For Peirce, one of the three types of inference (the others are abduction and induction) in which conclusions necessarily follow from stated premises. In Peirce’s theory, the conclusions of an abduction are deduced and then tested inductively. Developmental disabilities (or delay). Well-below-average intellectual, physical, and adaptive social capabilities, such as those resulting from Down syndrome. Eclectic. Choosing what seems to be best from several sources. Often said of teachers who do not adhere to any particular theory of learning. Ecological psychology. The study of humans’ behaviour and experiences in their everyday environments. Ecology. The study of organisms in their natural environments. Effectance motivation. The desire to have an effect on one’s environment; usually linked to the motivational concept of competence.

338 Glossary

Emotion. A feeling and its distinctive thoughts, psychological and biological states, and range of propensities to act. Emotional intelligence. The ability to demonstrate self-control, zeal and persistence, and self-motivation (after Goleman, 1995). Ethology. The study of behaviour in the natural environment from the perspective of adaptation and evolution. Experts. Highly competent individuals with substantial experience and success in a given domain. Their knowledge is extensive and organized efficiently. Extinction. The decreased probability of a response occurring when something is taken away from the situation, such as a reward. Extrinsic motivation. The engagement in tasks for which some kind of external reward is expected or sought, such as pleasing the teacher, avoiding punishment, and earning a course grade. Firstness. In Peirce’s theory, the first of the universal categories (the others are Secondness and Thirdness), characterized by the preconscious quality of feeling or presence. Fixation of belief. According to Peirce (1992), a desired end state that motivates semiosis in order to remove doubt initiated by surprise. Peirce described four methods to establish, or fix, beliefs: tenacity, or holding on to beliefs in the face of doubt; authority, or accepting beliefs from credible leaders; a priori, or incorporating beliefs into an already existing belief structure; and experiment. In the latter method, favoured by Peirce, doubt is removed by collecting a number of observations, generating hypotheses through abduction, and deducing conclusions for testing through induction. Formal operations. According to Piaget, the fourth and final stage of cognitive development, which begins about age eleven and which features thought that is logical, flexible, and fully symbolic. The adolescent is now able to think logically about abstract ideas. Formative evaluation. A judgment based on ungraded testing, used before or during instruction as an aid to planning, diagnosis, and remediation. Genome. The genetic material of an organism. Gifted. The term assigned to those with very high scores on an IQ test. Individuals may show unusual abilities in one or more areas; these are then supported by special educational services to help them meet their full academic potential. Group alerting. The degree to which the teacher is able to keep all students attentive, on task, and accountable (Kounin, 1970).

Glossary 339

Guided participation. The process whereby adults and youths collaborate in arrangements and interactions that support the youths in learning the skills and values of mature members of their society (Rogoff, 1990). Habit. A recurrent, often unconscious behaviour pattern acquired through frequent repetition. Peirce considered habits to be the conventional meaning of signs and therefore to operate in Thirdness. Haptics. The study of touch or touching behaviour. Hopelessness. The feeling that one has no control over what happens to oneself. Identity. From Erikson (e.g., 1980), the stable sense of oneself. Creating identity is the developmental task of adolescence. Failing to establish identity results in role confusion. Idiographic. Relating to or involving the concrete or individual or unique. Inclusion. A philosophy and policy that seeks to educate students with special needs in the regular classroom. Akin to mainstreaming. Individual Education Plan (IEP). An instructional program required and devised for each identified special-needs student. Such a plan contains a statement of current performance, strengths and weaknesses of the individual, annual goals, and the short-term goals needed to reach them. Induction. For Peirce, one of three types of inference (the others being abduction and deduction). Used to test the deduced conclusions of an abduction. Information processing. A view of learning in which the learner is likened to a computer for ability to acquire, store, retrieve, and generally use information. Intelligence quotient (IQ). A test score declared to be a measure of intelligence; it compares a specific score on a test with other scores in a standardized sample. Interpretant. With the representamen (also known as the sign) and the object, one of the triad of components of the sign. Through semiosis it becomes a more developed sign. Intrinsic motivation. A motivation based on internal factors that prompt us to seek out interests of personal concern. No external reward is necessary or even desirable; the activity itself is rewarding enough. I-R-E. The standard classroom communicational style, consisting of, in order, teacher Initiation, student Response, and teacher Evaluation (Mehan, 1979a). Kinesics. The study of body movement, posture, and facial and eye behaviour. Commonly known as body language.

340 Glossary

Learning. The process whereby a permanent change in behaviour or knowledge is caused by experience. Synonymous with semiosis. Learning disability. A special need distinguished by lower academic achievement than predicted by IQ scores and by limitations in one or more particular cognitive processes. Learning styles. A person’s typical approaches to learning, often associated with personality variables (for example, whether one is reflective or impulsive). Learning styles are often confused with the different ways in which humans prefer to learn (such as by reading, or rapping, or running). Locus of control. An explanation of motivation that perceives results as determined by factors arising from within or from without the individual. Mastery learning. The belief that all students can learn when provided with appropriate learning conditions. Today that usually means group-based and teacher-paced instruction conducted under conditions of cooperative learning. Mechanism. The world view that adopts the root metaphor of the human mind as a machine and that believes learning can be represented by specifiable sets of algorithms and schemas (Pepper, 1942). Medical model of exceptionality. A deficit model that defines exceptionalities by the presence of dis-ease and by a range of medical anomalies, including sensory and genetic conditions such as cerebral palsy or deafness. Modifications. The structural changes made to the grade-level expectations of a subject in order to meet the needs of an individual student. If necessary, modified expectations – necessary when the student is unable to satisfy the regular curriculum – may be drawn from a grade below the current placement. Momentum. The pacing or flow of group activities (Kounin, 1970). Motivation. The accounts of choices, intensities, and feelings of acts. Multiple intelligences. According to Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences, brain-based biopsychological potentials that predispose us for certain capabilities. Currently, eight multiple intelligences are proposed: linguistic, musical, logical-mathematical, spatial, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and naturalistic. Multiple literacies. The different ways in which learners can become competent in representing cultural experiences. They involve tool use of all kinds, such as linguistic symbols, mathematical formulas, and chainsaws. The term mere literacy is sometimes used for language-

Glossary 341

only literacy. Multiple literacies parallel capabilities and competencies within the different signways. Natural selection. In Darwin’s theory, the differential production or survival of offspring resulting from variations among genetically different members of the population. Negative reinforcement. The increased probability that a response will occur when something is removed from the situation. Nomothetic. Relating to or involving abstract or general statements or laws. Non-verbal communication. All elements of a communication that are not essentially linguistic in nature. Norm-referenced assessment. A test that compares a student’s performance to that of a broad sample of other students of the same age or in the same grade. Novice. An individual new to a domain who lacks experience in it. This person’s knowledge is limited and is generally confined to inflexible, rule-governed behaviour. Object. One of the components of Peirce’s sign (the representamen and interpretant being the other two) and something towards which feeling, action, or thought is directed. Ontogeny. Changes over the lifetime of an individual. Synonymous with development. Operant conditioning. The form of learning studied by B.F. Skinner that occurs when a voluntary or emitted response is strengthened by being reinforced. Overlapping. The teacher’s ability to attend to multiple classroom events at once without becoming overly immersed in any single one (Kounin, 1970). Paralanguage. The non-linguistic accompaniments to speech such as voice volume, tempo, pitch, intensity, and pauses. Phylogeny. Changes in species over geological time. Synonymous with evolution. Positive reinforcement. The increased probability that a response will occur when something is added to the situation. Proxemics. The study of the structure and use of space as a function of culture. Usually refers to the physical distances and positions of individuals engaged in communication. Proximity control. The action of moving closer to students in order to reduce or interrupt their misbehaviour. Psychosemiotics. As a branch of applied semiotics, the study of how

342 Glossary

humans learn, understand, and use the signs of culture (H.A. Smith 2001). Punishment. The decreased probability that a response will occur when something is added to the situation. Regrouping. An instructional arrangement in which students spend most of the day in general, mixed-ability classes but are assigned to ability-based classes for one or two subjects. Reinforcer. Anything that increases the probability of a response occurring. A positive reinforcer is something added to a situation to increase the probability of a response occurring, such as praise or candy. A negative reinforcer – probably an unpleasant stimulus – is something taken away from the situation to increase the probability of a response occurring, such as the buzzing sound in a car that stops as soon as the seatbelts are fastened. Representamen. One of three components of the sign (the other two being the object and the interpretant). To avoid confusion with the overall sign structure, this term is often used instead of sign as the second element of the sign triad. Secondness. In Peirce’s theory, the second of the universal categories (the others being Firstness and Thirdness), characterized by reaction or the brute reality of lived experience. Self-concept. The description that an individual attaches to himself or herself in terms of roles or attributes. One’s self-concept may be realistic or unrealistic, and accurate or inaccurate. Self-efficacy. One’s belief in being able to deal effectively with a particular task. Self-esteem. The degree to which one is satisfied or dissatisfied with one’s own description of the self-concept. A person’s self-esteem can be described as high or low, positive or negative. Self-fulfilling prophecy. An initially incorrect definition of a situation that prompts the behaviour necessary to make the definition come true. Self-monitoring. A process whereby students observe and record some aspect of their behaviour in order to modify it. Self-referenced assessment. A test in which students compare their own performances across time. Self-regulation. The process of setting goals and standards for oneself and then using cognitive skills and processes to reach those goals and standards. Semiosis. In Peirce’s theory (Peirce used the term semeiotic), the essential action of signs involving the object, the representamen, and the

Glossary 343

interpretant in which signs constantly grow and develop through experience; akin to learning. Semiotics. Peirce’s formal doctrine of signs, from the Greek word for sign, semeion. Generally defined as the science or study of signs. As all thought is in signs, semiotics refers to both how we think and what we think with. Distinguished from Ferdinand de Saussure’s semiology with its dyadic sign. Shaping. The process of reinforcing successive behaviours in such a way that they come closer and closer to the desired end behaviour. Sign. In Peircean theory, anything (such as a word, a flag, a symphony, or a microscope) that stands for something else. A sign, composed of the triad object-representamen-interpretant, must represent something to an interpreter in order to function as a sign. Signways. Evolved channels, or representational modes, through which we make meanings by semiosis from perceptual phenomena based in the environment or culture. Seven signways are proposed: linguistic, musical, logical-mathematical, spatial, bodily-kinesthetic, social-personal, and naturalistic (H.A. Smith, 2001). Smoothness. Managing transitions between class activities in an effective way (Kounin 1970). Sociocultural model of exceptionality. An often unacknowledged model in which cultural or racial minorities are regarded as exceptional because of, for example, their cultural backgrounds and spoken first languages. Statistical model of exceptionality. A model that adopts assumptions of the normal curve in determining who should be labelled exceptional. In this model, those who score at the extreme ends on standardized tests (that is, who score very high or very low) are designated as exceptional. Strategies. Skills or techniques used by students to assist learning. These may include cognitive strategies such as mnemonics or assistive technologies such as computers that speak. Stress. Originally defined by Hans Selye as the non-specific response of the body to any demand made upon it, but now often regarded as a stimulus. Summative evaluation. A judgment based on a test following instruction to determine achievement. Synechism. From Peirce, the law of mind that perceives all mind as directly or indirectly connected with all matter and the tendency of feeling towards connectedness and relation. Text. From Bakhtin, the written word, which cannot represent many

344 Glossary

aspects of spoken language from which people create meaning (see Utterance). Thirdness. In Peirce’s theory, the third of the universal categories (the others are Firstness and Secondness) characterized by rule, law, generality, principle, and mediation. To operate in signs, Thirdness always comprises Secondness and Firstness. Token economy. A procedure in which desired behaviours are reinforced by tokens which can be exchanged for other reinforcers. Transmediation. The translation of content and meaning from one sign system into another (e.g., representing a poem in dance form). Unconditioned response. A response that is elicited by a specific stimulus without prior intervention. Unconditioned stimulus. A stimulus that elicits a specific response without prior intervention. Universal categories. From Peirce, the most universal of ideas in comprehending reality and in giving meaning to experience. Peirce’s three categories of Firstness, Secondness, and Thirdness comprise the basic consistent relations that are present and embodied in all experience. Utterance. According to Bakhtin, the spoken word and the basic element of linguistic interaction, from which persons draw meaning. Distinct from Text. Within-class grouping. An instructional arrangement in which all students in a class are assigned to one of two or three groups. Zone of proximal development. According to Vygotsky (1978), the distance between one’s actual developmental level as determined by independent problem solving and the higher level of potential development as determined through problem solving under adult guidance or in collaboration with more capable peers.

References

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Name Index

Ackerman, D., 58, 63 Adcock, A.G., 281 Alberto, P., 145 Alexander the Great, 59 Allard, F., 306 Allen, B.P., 279, 280, 281, 283 Allen, R., 15 Alyson, S., 274 Anderson, L. M., 80 Anderson, M., 111, 246 Annahatak, B., 38 Apusigah, A., 174 Aquinas, T., 4 Aristotle, 4 Arlin, M., 85 Arlin, P.K., 120, 126 Armstrong, T., 187, 188, 218, 223, 254 Atkinson, R.C., 211, 212 Attwood, T., 237 Augustine, 4 Bachman, J.G., 296 Bacon, R., 4 Bakan, D., 115 Bakhtin, M., 36, 167 Banks, J.A., 269 Barab, S.A., 31, 157

Baranes, R., 172, 173 Baron, J., 235 Baron-Cohen, S., 177, 237, 245 Barth, F., 177 Barthes, R., 169 Bartlett, F.C., 205, 210–11, 213–15 Barton, S., 130 Baynton, D.C., 244 Bean, K.F., 182, 184 Bean, S.K., 182, 184 Bean, T.W., 182, 184 Beane, J.A., 138, 140 Beaton, A.E., 170 Beaudry, J.S., 190 Benedict, R., 115 Bennett, E.L., 109 Berghoff, B., 184 Bergin, T.G., 157 Berliner, D.C., 44, 306, 307 Berman, A.L., 284 Bernhard, J.G., 222 Bernhard, J.K., 251 Besner, H.F., 300 Betzig, L., 300 Bibby, R.W., 270–1, 272, 301 Biddle, B.J., 35, 44 Binet, A., 185

380 Name Index Bjorklund, D.F., 164 Black, J.E., 121 Blackmore, S., 111, 113 Blackwell, P.J., 126 Blanck, G., 127 Bloom, B.S., 218 Blyth, D.A., 115 Bogdan, R., 242 Boocock, S.S., 31 Boston, C., 221 Bourdieu, P., 13 Bourne, E.J., 177 Bowen, J., 16, 18, 19 Bower, G., 205, 207 Bown, O., xvi Brandt, R.S., 221, 306 Brenneman, K., 171 Brent, J., 124 Brick, P., 269 Britzman, D.P., 301 Bronfenbrenner, U., 130 Brookfield, S.D., 316, 319, 333–4 Brooks, D.M., 54, 61, 78–81 Brooks-Gunn, J., 115 Brophy, J., 74, 75, 76 Brothers, L., 27–8, 177 Brown, A.L., 249 Brown, J.S., 157, 214, 250 Brown, R.V., 235 Bruer, J.T., 110, 121, 220 Bruner, J., 28, 130, 146, 199, 201–2, 268, 269 Bryan, T., 235 Bryk, A.S., 15, 43 Bucher, K.T., 6, 69, 103 Buchler, J., 200, 207, 208, 308 Burgess, A.W., 286 Burgoyne, R., 174 Burke, K., 199 Burnett, N., 306

Butterworth, G., 177 Byrnes, J.P., 110 Calhoun, G., Jr., 266 Camp, R., 218 Campbell, B., 187, 188, 218 Campbell, D.S., 254 Campbell, L., 187, 188, 218, 254 Canfield, J., 140 Carey, R.F., 195 Carey, S., 172 Carraher, D.W., 173 Carter, K., 305, 306, 308 Cary, R., 189 Caswell, C., 52, 103 Catherine the Great, 20 Cazden, C.B., 33, 35 Charach, A., 290 Charlesworth, B., 111 Charness, N., 305, 306 Chevalier, J., 122, 123 Chi, M.T.H., 130, 306, 307 Chorover, S.L., 209 Christianson, S-A., 205 Churchill, W., 176 Ciborowski, J., 238 Clancey, W.J., 248, 253 Clarke, A.D.B., 252, 254 Clarke, A.M., 252, 254 Clifford, M.M., 201 Clynes, M., 169 Coatup, G., 88 Cobb, P., 149, 157 Cohen, E.G., 33, 274 Cohen, N.J., 211 Cohen, Y., 282 Colapietro, V.M., 177 Cole, M., 21, 180, 184, 250 Collins, A., 157, 214, 220, 250 Comenius, J.A., 312

Name Index 381 Cook, J., 148 Cooper, H., 314 Cooper, R., 311 Corballis, M.C., 121 Corbett, D., 149 Corno, L., 98 Corr, C., 275 Corrington, R.S., 6, 28, 207 Cotton, K., 15, 43 Coulter, R.P., 292–3 Crago, M.B., 38 Craig, W.M., 292 Craik, F.I.M., 211–12 Crawford, C., 111 Crowder, R.G., 211 Cullum-Swan, B., 179 Cunningham, D.J., 200, 250 Curry, L., 190 Custrini, R.J., 34 Damasio, A.R., 141, 205 Danesi, M., 28 Darwin, C., 111, 141, 151, 200, 214 Davidson, R.J., 205 Dawkins, R., 111, 113 Deacon, T., 113 DeBlassie, R.R., 270, 279 DeBoer, M.M., 130 Deci, E.L., 201 DeCuir, J.T., 205 Deely, J., 124 Descartes, R., 169 Deshler, D.D., 239 Dewey, J., 156, 250 Diamond, M.C., 109, 221, 251, 255–6 Dickinson, D., 187, 188, 218 Dillon, J.T., 38 Dilthey, W., 157 Dissanayake, E., 169 Dodge, K.A., 235

Dolgin, K.G., 297–8, 301 Donaldson, M., 126, 250 Downing, J.E., 263 Doyle, M.B., 264 Dreikurs, R., 74 Dreyfus, H.L., 154, 306, 307, 309, 334 Dreyfus, S.E., 154, 306, 307, 309, 334 Duguid, P., 157, 214, 220, 250 Dunkin, M.J., 35 Dunn, R., 190 Duranti, A., 35 Durkin, J.F., 144 Durkin, K., 137 Ebbinghaus, H., 210, 212 Eccles, J.C., 11 Eco, U., 192 Edelman, G.M., 11, 110, 111–12, 114, 130, 131, 214–15 Educational Leadership, 223 Eisenstein, S., 174 Eisler, R., 17, 28 Ekman, P., 56, 205 Ellis, E.S., 239 Emery, D., 231–4 Emmer, E.T., 93, 103 Engeström, Y., 180 Epstein, D., 168 Epstein, H.T., 120 Epstein, S., 205–7 Epstein, T., 191 Erickson, F., 34 Ericsson, K.A., 305, 306, 307 Erikson, E.H., 136–7 Espin, O., 275–6 Evans, R.I., 136 Everhart, R.B., 68 Evertson, C.M., 65, 93, 103 Fabrega, H., Jr., 11

382 Name Index Fann, K.T., 194 Farber, I., 326 Farr, M.J., 307 Feldman, R.S., 34 Fisch, M.H., 157 Fischer, A., 141, 205 Flanders, N., 35 Flavell, J.H., 120, 125, 126 Flitterman-Lewis, S., 174 Fodor, J.A., 164 Forgas, J.P., 268, 269 Forrestal, P., 148 Fowler, R., 269 Fox, N.A., 110 Frederick William of Prussia, 19 Freedman, D.G., 130 Frege, G., 171 Freud, S., 109, 115, 136, 174 Frijda, N.H., 141, 205, 210 Frith, U., 177 Fueyo, J., 191 Fuller, F., xvi Fuller, J.R., 276 Fullwood, D., 230 Galen, 4 Galileo, 151 Gallas, K., 33, 334 Galton, F., 108 Garbarino, J., 115, 130, 143, 200, 270 Gardner, H., 9, 83, 132, 146, 165, 186– 9, 190, 223–4, 247, 248, 254, 255, 256 Garland, A.F., 283 Garrod, A.C., 23 Gates, S.L., 312–13 Gathercoal, F., 90 Gatherer, D., 111 Gazzaniga, M.S., 209 Geertz, C., 11, 12–13

Gelman, R., 171, 201 Getzels, J.W., 44–6 Gheerbrant, A., 122, 123 Gibson, J.J., 173, 174, 176 Gilligan, C., 134 Ginott, H.G., 74 Glaser, R., 306, 307 Glasser, W., 74 Goleman, D., 141, 142, 143, 251 Golinko, B.E., 114 Good, T., 74, 75, 76, 312 Goode, D., 225, 264 Goodenough, W., 11 Goodenow, C., 275–6 Goodman, P., 21 Goodwin, C., 35 Goodwin, M.H., 35 Gould, S.J., 108 Goulet, P., 119 Granott, N., 132 Greene, D., 152 Greeno, J.G., 31 Greenough, W., 121 Gregorc, A.F., 190 Greuling, J.W., 279 Grey, L., 74 Griffin, D.R., 151 Griffin, P., 268 Grigorenko, E.L., 190 Griss, S., 191 Groen, G.J., 307 Grossmann, K.E., 107 Gump, P.V., 31 Gumperz, J.J., 36, 60 Guskey, T.R., 312–13 Haas, N.M., 250–1 Haas, N.S., 251, 254 Haertel, G.D., 65 Hahn, A., 298

Name Index 383 Hall, E.T., 48, 57 Hall, G.S., 115 Hamachek, D., 135, 137, 318 Hannequin, D., 119 Hansen, W.B., 278 Hanson, N.R., 195 Happé, F., 177 Harbech, K.M., 274 Harris, A., 65 Harris, T., 231 Harrow, A.J., 218 Harste, J.C., 184 Harter, S., 137 Hartshorne, C., 4, 197 Haskell, G., 231–4 Hatten, R.S., 168, 169–70 Haviland, J.M., 205 Heath, S.B., 38 Hebb, D.O., 109, 110 Henrotte, G.A., 169 Herdt, G., 274 Herzog, J., 14 Hiebert, B., 326 Hilgard, E.R., 198 Hill, A.M., xix, 219, 222, 246, 248, 249, 253, 254–5 Hintikka, J., 196 Hippocrates, 4 Hirschfeld, L.A., 179 Hirst, W., 213 Hiscock, M., 120 Hobson, R.P., 177 Holland, D., 9 Holmes, S., 194 Holt, J., 26–7 Hopson, J., 221, 251, 255–6 Hughes, J., 294–5 Hull, C., 147 Hutchins, E., 11, 12, 13, 158, 248 Hutchinson, N.L., 239

Ingold, T., 111, 112 Inhelder, B., 125 Isen, A.M., 198 Jackendoff, R., 169 Jacobson, L., 321 Jaffe, M.L., 295 Jahoda, G., 126, 157 Jakobson, R., 168 James, W., 138 Janus, M-D., 286 Jensen, A.R., 108 Joanette, Y., 119 Jobes, D.A., 284 John-Steiner, V., 126 Johns, B., 174 Johnson, D.W., 311 Johnson, M., 7, 167, 208, 210 Johnson, R.T., 311 Jones, L.S., 103 Jones, V.F., 103 Josselson, R., 137 Jung, C., 190 Justinian, 19 Kagan, D.M., 297 Kahneman, D., 171 Kalbfleisch, M.L., 221 Kanerva, P., 209–10 Kaplan, J.S., 145 Karmiloff-Smith, A., 126, 127, 201, 247 Keil, F.C., 125, 179 Kelly, M.E., 130, 248 Kelly, S.D., 54 Kendon, A., 42, 167 Kennedy, J.M., 174, 176 Key, M.R., 35, 63 Khayatt, D., 272, 273, 274 Kimura, D., 117, 118 Kincheloe, J.L., 189

384 Name Index Kindlundh, A.M.S., 276 Kindsvatter, R., 87–9 King, A.J.C., 14, 15, 104, 294–5, 302, 303, 304, 323–5, 326–30, 333 Kinsbourne, M., 120, 209, 211, 214 Kinsey, A.C., 272 Kirshner, D., 249, 250 Klavas, A., 190 Klein, P., 188 Klein, S., 321–2 Knapp, M.L., 42 Kneller, G., 11–12, 13 Kohlberg, L., 109, 133, 134 Kohn, A., 103 Koneya, M., 49–50 Konner, M., 141, 143, 205, 224 Kounin, J., 82, 91 Kramer, S.N., 16 Krathwohl, D.R., 218 Krech, D., 109 Lacan, J., 174 LaFountain, M.J., 276 Lakoff, G., 7, 167, 208, 215, 308 Lamarck, J.B., 112, 113 Langer, S.K., 168 Lanier, J., 100 Lankshear, C., 184 Lave, J., 131, 149, 157, 158, 159, 181, 214, 220, 249, 250, 268 Lazarus, M., 157 Lazarus, R.S., 198 Leadbeater, B.J., 271 Lee, P.A., 191–2 Lee, V.E., 15, 43 Leeds-Hurwitz, W., 63 Leland, C.H., 184 Lemke, J.L., 13, 252–3 Lenz, B.K., 239 Leontiev, A., 157

Lepper, M.R., 152 Lester, D., 280 Levinson, B.A., 9 Levy, R., 198 Lewis, M., 205 Lidov, D., 169, 170 Linden, E., 151 Lipka, R.P., 138 Liszka, J.J., 250 Little, J., 100 Lloyd, B.B., 215 Lock, A., 13, 143, 166 Locke, J., 4 Lockhart, R.S., 211–12 LoPresto, S., 250–1 Lorenz, K., 146–9, 155, 159 Loveland, K.A., 177 Lowry, R., 284 Luce-Kapler, R., 174 Luria, A., 157 Luther, M., 19 Maddi, S.R., 199 Manier, D., 213 Manning, M.L., 69, 103 Manning, P.K., 179 Manstead, A.S.R., 141, 205 Marcia, J.E., 137 Marcus, S., 171 Marshall, H.H., 163, 180 Martin, W.B.W., 83 Marx, B.S., 43 Masia, B.B., 218 Maslach, C., 334 Maslow, A.H., 108 Mayer, R.E., 146, 185, 186 McAuley, G., 176 McCaslin, M., 312 McCombs, B.L., 202 McCormack, A., 286

Name Index 385 McCullough, M., 271 McDaniel, S.A., 277 McDaniel, T.R., 101–2 McDermott, R.P., 243, 251, 253, 268 McDevitt, T.M., 142 McDougall, K., 179 McKeachie, W.J., 153 McNeil, J., 275 McQueen, T., 65, 76 Mead, G.H., 115, 159, 177–8 Meece, J.L., 230 Mehan, H., 24, 26, 32, 36–7, 268 Mehrabian, A., 35 Merrell, F., 246 Merritt, M., 33 Merton, R., 321 Metz, C., 174 Meyer, A.E., 18–20 Miller, G.A., 153 Mills, G.E., 319 Minichiello, D., 265 Mithen, S., 164 Moll, L.C., 127 Montagu, A., 58 Montero, I., 254 Morgan, C., 228 Morine-Dershimer, G., 32 Morris, C., 7–8, 10–11 Mortensen, C., 172 Moskal Fysh, S., 179 Müller, J.E., 174 Muller, J.P., 177, 252 Mulvey, L., 174 Murtaugh, M., 214 Myrick, R., 43 Nagy, S., 281 Nakosteen, M., 19 Napoleon, 20 Napoli, M., 191

Nattiez, J.-J., 169 Neill, S., 52, 63, 103 Neisser, U., 146, 213 Nelson, C.A., 110, 121 Nelson, J.R., 250 Nelson, K., 254 Nesbitt, R.E., 152 Netting, N.S., 270 New London Group, 183, 184 Newell, A., 153 Newmann, F.M., 314 Nicholas II, 20 Nicholls, J.G., 201 Nidditch, P.H., 4 Ningiuruvik, L., 38 Nöth, W., 168 Nunn, G.D., 298 O'Brien, J.M., 275–6 O’Connell, P., 292 Olson, D.R., 36 Olweus, D., 290 O'Malley, P.M., 296 Ontario College of Teachers, 227 Ormrod, J.E., 38, 142, 242 Paikoff, R.L., 115 Paivio, A., 211 Palinscar, A.S., 249 Panofsky, C.P., 126 Pardeck, J.T., 266 Parish, T.S., 298 Patel, V.L., 307 Patterson, M.L., 59 Pavlov, I., 147, 150 Peale, N.V., 334 Peart, M.J., 14, 15, 302, 303, 304, 323– 5, 326–30, 333 Peirce, C.S., 4, 5–7, 27, 124, 141, 145, 164, 166, 167, 168, 171, 173, 174,

386 Name Index 177, 192, 193–8, 200, 207–8, 221, 222, 223, 246, 250, 251, 253, 308, 309 Pelham, J., 171 Pellegrini, A.D., 164 Peplar, D., 290, 292 Pepper, S.C., 155, 159 Perini, M.J., 190 Perlmutter, M., 210, 212, 214 Perry, N.E., 231, 293 Pestalozzi, J.H., 312 Peter the Great, 20 Peters, C.R., 143, 166 Peterson, A.C., 115 Phi Delta Kappa Task Force on Adolescent Suicide, 278 Philippot, P., 34 Philips, S., 55 Phillips, D.C., 130, 248 Piaget, J., 105, 109, 115, 120, 124, 125– 7, 128, 129, 171, 172, 199 Plucker, J.A., 31, 157 Pope, J.E., 202 Popper, K.S., 11 Posner, R., 8, 172 Posterski, D.C., 270–1, 272, 301 Powell, G.J., 137 Prawat, R.S., 76, 80, 156 Putnam, J., 231 Putney, L.G., 127 Qin, Z., 311 Quinte Educational Museum and Archives, 75 Quinton, D., 139 Ratner, C., 13 Redfield, D.L., 38 Reed, E.S., 210, 215 Reeve, J., 201 Reeve, R.A., 249

Reid, J., 148 Renzulli, J.A., 190 Resnick, L.B., 214 Restak, R., 116 Rice, F.P., 297–8, 301 Rimé, B., 210 Rinne, C.H., 93, 97, 103 Ritts, V., 59 Rivlin, L.G., 50 Roberts, J.I., 11, 14 Roberts, L., 172 Rocha, O. de la, 214 Rogers, C.R., 108 Rogers, L.J., 226, 230, 251, 254, 264 Rogoff, B., 129, 131, 132, 134, 143, 157, 158, 181, 220, 249, 250, 253, 268 Rollett, B.A., 204 Rosa, A., 254 Rosch, E.H., 215 Roschelle, J., 248, 253 Rosen, H., 275 Rosenberg, E., 56 Rosenfield, I., 209, 215 Rosenthal, R., 321 Rosenzweig, M.R., 109 Roth, W.-M., 54 Rothenberg, M., 50 Rotman, B., 172 Rousseau, E.W., 38 Rudel, R.G., 110 Rudner, L.M., 221 Russell, B., 171 Rutter, M., 14, 139 Ruwet, N., 169 Ryan, M., 139 Ryan, R.M., 201 Ryle, G., 211 Sadker, D., 321–2 Sadker, M., 321–2 Salovey, P., 142

Name Index 387 Santrock, J.W., 115 Sarigiani, P.A., 115 Saussure, F. de, 5, 166 Savan, D., 250 Saxe, G.B., 173, 214, 250 Scarr, S., 131, 252, 254 Scherman, A., 271 Schiaratura, L., 210 Schliemann, A.D., 173 Schön, D.A., 334 Schutz, P.A., 205 Scott Beman, D., 276 Scribner, S., 131, 184, 307 Sears, J.T., 272 Sebeok, T.A., 4, 8 Selye, H., 281 Semali, L.M., 192, 223, 224 Senge, P.M., 301 Serson, B., 6 Shank, G., 195 Sherwood, V., 130, 201 Shiffrin, R.M., 211, 212 Shotter, J., 201 Shouse, D.M., 78 Shultz, J., 34 Shuy, R.W., 35, 38 Shweder, R.A., 177 Siegel, M., 192–3, 195, 223 Silver, H.F., 190 Silverman, K., 5 Simmons, R.G., 115 Simon, H.A., 153, 307 Simpson, J.A., 281 Sinha, C.G., 124 Sinnott, J.D., 130, 131 Skinner, B.F., 147, 150–2 Skrtic, T.M., 226 Slavin, R.E., 34, 311 Sloboda, J.A., 169 Smith, E.E., 211 Smith, H.A., xiv, xix, 5, 9, 28, 42, 48,

84–5, 111, 113, 129, 132, 146, 163, 164, 174, 181, 189, 194, 195, 200, 202, 219, 222, 223, 246, 248, 249, 251, 253, 254–5, 268 Smith, J.B., 15, 43 Smith, L.H., 190 Smith, P., 243, 245 Smith, R.M., 243 Sneddon, S., 179 Snelbecker, G.E., 147 Sonesson, G., 174 Spelke, E., 172 Spencer-Hall, D.A., 65 Spinelli, F., 33 Spungin, C., 300 Squire, L.R., 211 Stainback, S., 231 Stainback, W., 231 Stairs, A., 249 Stam, R., 174 Statistics Canada, 277 Steinberg, L., 115, 116 Steinthal, H., 157 Stephens, T.M., 315 Sternberg, R.J., 181, 186, 188, 190, 193, 252, 262, 263, 264, 308, 311 Stigler, J.W., 172, 173 Stiller, J.D., 201 Stillings, N.A., 204 Strong, R.W., 190 Suhor, C., 191, 223 Swadener, B.B., 226, 230, 264 Sykes, G., 7 Sylwester, R., 114 Tanney, B., 284 Tarasti, E., 169 Taylor, S.J., 242 Telfer, C., 231–4 Thomas, C., 138 Thompson, R.A., 110, 286

388 Name Index Thompson, R.F., 209 Thorndike, E.L., 150 Thorson, S.A., 88 Tomasello, M., 126, 178 Tomlinson, C.A., 221 Totten, S., 278 Trevarthen, C., 177 Troutman, A.C., 145 Tubbs, M.E., 59 Tulving, E., 211 Tversky, A., 171 Tye, B.B., 14, 15 Tylor, E., 11 Valpy, M., 267 Van de Ven, P., 272 van Leeuwen, T., 168–9 van Roosmalen, E.H., 277 Vander Ark, T., 15, 43, 44 Varenne, H., 243, 251, 253 Vasquez, O., 180 Vaughn, S., 235 Veenman, S., 65 Verdonik, F., 210, 214, 269 Vico, G., 157 Vygotsky, L., 105, 124, 127–9, 131, 157, 158, 159, 220, 253, 269 Walberg, H.J., 65 Walker, L.J., 134 Wallace, C.S., 121 Wang, M.C., 65 Warren, W.K., 302, 303, 304, 323–5, 333 Watkins, M.J., 211 Way, N., 271 Weade, G., 149 Weber, M., 12, 269

Weber, W.A., 65, 69–74 Weinstein, C.S., 31–4 Weiss, P., 4, 197 Wenger, E., 149, 159, 268 Wertsch, J.V., 127, 157 Westerman, D.A., 306 White, B., 110 White, R.W., 137, 200 White, S.D., 270 Whitfield, T.D., 29 Whitson, J.A., 124, 249, 250 Wiggins, G., 221 Wiley, N., 177 Wilkinson, L.C., 33 Williams, W.M., 181, 190, 193, 252, 262, 263, 264, 308, 311 Wilson, B., 149 Wineburg, S.S., 321 Wing, L., 237 Wink, J., 127 Winne, P.H., 231, 293 Winson, J., 176 Winzer, M., 239 Wiske, M.S., 181, 247 Wolf, D.P., 218, 220 Wolf, J.S., 315 Wolfe, P., 221 Wolfgang, A., 64 Woolfolk, A.E., 54, 61, 231, 293 Worsham, M.E., 93, 103 Wundt, W., 157 Wyatt, J.M., 286 Wynn, K., 172 Zajonc, R.B., 198 Zera, D., 273 Ziegler, S., 290 Zigler, E., 283

Subject Index

Page numbers in italics refer to figures and tables ability grouping, 261–3 action research, 320 adolescence, 114–15. See also development adolescents: at school, 22–3, 67–8, 93; bullying, 290–2; dealing with death, 275–6; dropping out of school, 294–9; in culture, 266–7; physical and emotional abuse, 285–90; racism, 293–4; sexism, 292–3; substance abuse, 276–8, 282; suicide, 278–84 Bloom’s taxonomy, 218 brain: growth cycles, 120–1; handedness, 121–4; hemispheric specialization, 119–20; memory, 214–15; sex differences, 116–18 classroom activity segments, 31–4; recitation, 32; seatwork, 33; sharing time, 32–3; student-directed small groups, 33–4; teacher-directed small groups, 32

classroom discipline: do’s and don’ts, 98–100; handling student misbehaviour, 88–9; promoting student self-discipline, 97–8; proximity control, 71; restoring class discipline, 91–7; teacher beliefs, 87–8 classroom management: before school begins, 77–8; eight theories or approaches, 70–4; first day of school, 78–80; first few weeks, 80–1; four general principles, 76–7; four stages, 69–70; handling transitions, 84–5; maintaining accomplishments, 81–3, 85; pre-service issues, 100–2; rules and procedures, 36–7, 79 cognition, 268–9. See also learning; meaning; psychosemiotics; semiosis; sign; signways cognitive development: current principles, 129–32; information-processing approach, 124–5; semiotic approach, 124–5 communication, 30–1. See also nonverbal communication; verbal communication

390 Subject Index conditioning: classical, 147–8, 149–53; operant, 147–8, 149–50 cooperative learning, 34, 253, 311–12 cultural evolution, 112–14 cultural psychology, 7 culture, 7, 11–14, 121–3, 250–4, 265–9; definitions, 11–14; of classrooms, 24–7, 31, 34, 52, 54–5, 57, 58, 60, 61–3 curriculum, 249, 251–2 development: emotional, 141–3, 317; Piaget’s theory, 125–9; Vygotsky’s theory, 127–9. See also cognitive development; moral development; social development disability studies, 241–6 education, 9–11 embodiment, 35, 207–8, 222, 251 emotion, 141–3, 203–8, 251, 254 emotional intelligence, 142 exceptionality: classifications, 227–8, 239–41; language of, 230; models, 226–8; relationship to disability, 227–8, 241–2; teaching exceptional students, 236–9, 246–57; use of labels, 235–6, 242–3 experience, 196–8 expertise in teaching: characteristics, 306–9; demonstrating, 310–16; stages, 305–6 fallibilism (Peirce), 198 fixation of belief (Peirce), 200 homework, 313–14 identity, 136–7, 207 inclusion, 229–31

inference, modes of: abduction, 193– 7, 200, 309; deduction, 193–6, 200; induction, 193–6, 200 intelligence, 185–6 knowledge forms: idiographic, 105–7, 118–19; nomothetic, 105–7, 118–19 learning, major approaches: behaviourist, 73, 145, 147–8, 149–53; comparing the approaches, 160–3; cultural constructivist, 146, 148–9, 157–9; information processing (cognitive constructivist), 146, 148– 9, 153–7 learning styles, 190 levels of learning (Lorenz), 146–8 mastery learning, 312–13 meaning, xiv, 4–5, 7, 9, 12–13, 24–5, 27, 35–6, 113, 124–5, 129, 189, 191– 2, 194, 199–200, 215, 222–3, 246–56, 268, 307–8 memory, 208–16, 252–3 moral development: Gilligan’s theory, 134; Kohlberg’s theory, 133–4; Piaget’s theory, 133 motivation, 46, 137–8, 198–204, 254 multiple intelligences, 9, 132, 186–90, 255–6 multiple literacies, 183–5, 192 nature (heredity), 108–14; genes, 111–12; natural selection, 111 nurture (environment), 108–14; memes, 111–13; memetics, 112; nutrition, 122 non-verbal communication, 41–61; artefacts, 61; definition, 42; environmental factors, 42–7; gaze, 55–

Subject Index 391 6; gesture, 52–4; haptics (touch), 58–9; kinesics, 52–7; paralanguage, 60; physical characteristics, 59–60; proxemics, 47–52; time, 57 parent–teacher interviews, 315–16 play, 129 problem solving, 193–5 psychosemiotics, xiv, 5, 7, 9, 30, 141, 189, 191, 200, 215, 221, 222–3, 246– 57 puberty, 115–16 reasoning. See inference, modes of schooling, 9–11, 14–16, 268, 299–300; common elements, 21–2; Greece, 18–19; Middle East, 16–18; features of good schools, 14–15; origin of term, 18; Rome and Europe, 19–20 school size, 15, 43–4 self-concept, 137–8 self-esteem, 138–40, 207, 271–2, 273 self-fulfilling prophecies, 321–2 self-worth, 138–40 semiology, 5 semiosis, 7, 12–13, 113, 124–5, 195, 200, 215, 220, 222–3, 248, 250, 252– 3, 309 semiotics, xiv, 4–5, 10–11; applied semiotics, xiv, 7–8; classifications, 7–8; definition, 4; history, 4–5 sexuality, 269–74; diversity, 272–4; teenage pregnancy, 270–2 sign, xiii-xiv, 5–7, 121–3, 208, 251–2, 256, 268, 307–8; general definition, xiv; Peircean definition, 5–7; in schooling, 25–7; interpretant, 6–7, 124; object, 6–7, 124, 192; represen-

tamen, 6–7, 124, 192; symbol, xv, 5, 13, 14, 256 signways, 9, 113, 132, 164–80, 189, 191, 201, 207, 218–19, 221–3, 255–6; bodily-kinesthetic, 175–6; linguistic, 165–7; logical-mathematical, 170–3; musical, 168–70; naturalistic, 178–80; social-personal, 176–8; spatial, 173–5 social development, 273; Erikson’s theory, 136–7; Freud’s theory, 136; in inclusive classrooms, 235 special education, 228–30 surprise, 195–8 synechism (Peirce), 207 teacher: and culture, 267; as expert, 27, 316–19; classroom movement strategies, 50–1; expectations of students, 320–3; roles according to views of learning, 161–2; signs of effective teachers, 74–6, 79–80, 306–16; stress, 326–31; survival, 331–3 teaching: according to views of learning, 161; as a social role, 303–4; dissatisfactions, 324–6; explicit, 257– 61; in inclusive classrooms, 231–5, 246–57; psychosemiotic perspective, 246–57; satisfactions, 323–4 testing and assessment, 216–21, 247, 248, 251 time, 110–11, 113–14 transmediation, 189, 191–3, 223 triangle of class participation, 49–50 universal categories (Peirce): Firstness, 141, 195, 196, 251, 253; Secondness, 141, 195, 196, 251, 253; Thirdness, 141, 195, 196, 250, 253

392 Subject Index verbal communication, 34–41; discourse, 35–7; questions and their types, 37–41; utterance vs text, 36 views of the learner, 44–7; active, 45; empty, 44–5; social, 45; stimulusseeking, 45–6

world views (Pepper): contextualism, 155, 159; mechanism, 155, 159 zone of proximal development (Vygotsky), 129