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dissertation entitled

TEACHERS IN TRANSITION:
FIRST-YEAR TEACHERS' PERCEPTIONS
OF THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF COLLEGIALITY
TO THEIR GROWTH

presented by

Voon-Mooi Choo

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TEACHERS 1N TRANSITION:
FIRST-YEAR TEACHERS’ PERCEPTIONS
OF THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF COLLEGIALITY TO THEIR GROWTH
By

Voon-Mooi Choo

A DISSERTATION
Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Teacher Education

1996

ABSTRACT

TEACHERS IN TRANSITION:
FIRST-YEAR TEACHERS’ PERCEPTIONS
OF THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF COLLEGIALITY TO THEIR GROWTH
By

Voon-Mooi Choo

This study extends research on teacher induction and collegiality. The study
addresses this primary research question: What are the perceptions of ﬁrst-year
English literacy teachers regarding the contributions of collegiality to their growth as
teachers? The study was inﬂuenced by knowledge acquired through two main types of
studies: (a) beginning teacher studies, and (b) workplace collegiality studies. Since
this study was inﬂuenced by the author’s contrasting educational and professional
experiences in Malaysia and the United States, it has a cross-cultural ﬂavor.

The professional experiences of ﬁve beginning English literacy teachers in
Malaysia, acquired amidst their colleagues during their ﬁrst three months of teaching,
constituted the primary data set for analysis. Data collection occurred primarily
through a series of individualized interviews spread out through the ﬁrst quarter of the
Malaysian 1995/1996 school year, with additional data from a round-table conference
for the participating teachers as the study approached closure. Other data sources
included log entries, journals, observations of contexts, interviews with participants’
colleagues inclusive Of the administrators, work-related artifacts, and an exit

questionnaire that signaled formal closureLQualitative analyses were ongoing during

data collection, and more focused after the author returned to the United States.

The contributions of the study to knowledge about teacher induction and
collegiality include the following:

1. Regardless of common experiences in preservice teacher education programs,
there was great variance in ﬁrst-year teachers’ perceptions of their growth, and
this was strongly linked with their perceptions of workplace collegiality. From
the author’s contextualized deﬁnition of growth, however, there was an
underlying convergence in their growth patterns.

2. Within the ﬁrst-year teachers’ schools, subject panels provided permanent
structures for formal ongoing teacher induction, beneﬁting beginning and
experienced teachers alike.

3. In joining the debate on the conceptualization of collegiality, a contextualized

model is offered, emphasizing three dimensions of collegiality.

For Ivan, Andrew, and Andrea,

with love

iv

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My dissertation is done. But my most difficult struggle with words begins. I
want to thank many people who sustained me through graduate school and writing a
dissertation.

I thank the Ministry of Education, Malaysia, for sponsoring my doctoral
program in the United States. I also thank the participants of the study; they
broadened my horizon as a teacher educator.

Diane Holt-Reynolds’ words of encouragement kept me in high spirits. James
Gavelek found meaningful ways to challenge my thinking. Lynn Paine followed my
work closely, and helped me to view the familiar in exciting, new ways. Toward the
end, all read my work with care, afﬁrming and questioning me in helpful ways.

Writing a dissertation is hard work. Taffy Raphael transformed my task into
an adventure. I trusted and valued her judgement as I explored the use of language
and genre to tell my story. Through the demands imposed by each stage of my
research, both in the United States and in Malaysia, Taffy provided support that went
beyond all expectations. Across thousands of miles and across time, I will continue to
think of Taffy as my mentor.

Next, I thank two friends. Cindy Brock was a wonderful companion as we

journeyed together. We kept things in proper perspective, through dinners and

shopping and sharing and laughing. Judy Thompson encouraged me and was always
ready to celebrate with me.

Finally, three loved ones. My heartfelt thanks go to Andrea and Andrew for
their unusual understanding and support as we lived apart. And Ivan. His wonderful
stories, particularly of our children, sent over e-mail, with his delightful sense of
humor, added laughter into my life, everyday. Words fail me as I express my

appreciation to him.

vi

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF TABLES ....................................... x
CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION ........................................ 1

A Voice from the Past ................................. 1

Purpose of the Study .................................. 3

Focus: The First Three Months ........................... 9

Dissertation Organization .............................. 12
CHAPTER 2

REVIEW OF LITERATURE ................................ 14

Review of Beginning Teacher Studies ....................... 15

Teacher Isolation ............................... 16

Adaptive Strategies During Teacher Induction ............. 21

Teacher Biography .............................. 25

Review of Teacher Collegiality Studies ...................... 26

Review on the Conceptual Bases of Collegial Growth Models ........ 30

Collegial Model Based on Beginning Teacher Needs and Problems 31
Collegial Model Based on Belief in an Established Knowledge Base 32

Collegial Model Based on the Self as Intentional Learner ...... 34
Review of the Malaysian Collegial Tradition .................. 39
Teachers Working Together in Subject panels ............. 39
Teachers Working Together in Co-Curricular Programs ....... 42

Preparing Teachers for Participation in Collectivistic Settings . . . . 43

CHAPTER 3
METHODOLOGY ..................................... 46
Selection of Participants ............................... 47
Participants ....................................... 50
10 ........................................ 51
Viji ....................................... 52
Ruby ...................................... 54
Leela ...................................... 56
Devi ...................................... 58
Context ......................................... 59

vii

The National Context ............................ 60

The Speciﬁc Contexts ............................ 63

Data Collection .................................... 74

Overview ................................... 74

Interviews ................................... 75

Logs ...................................... 79

Journals .................................... 80

Observations ................................. 81

Round-Table Conference .......................... 82

Artifacts .................................... 83

Exit Questionnaire .............................. 83

Data Analysis ..................................... 83

Nature of Analyses ............................. 84

Levels of Analyses .............................. 86

Analytic Strategies .............................. 88

Phases of Analyses ............................. 89
CHAPTER 4

BEGINNING TEACHER JOURNEYS .......................... 91

Introduction and Purpose .............................. 91

Kites in Flight ..................................... 95

J0 ........................................ 96

Viji ...................................... 106

Ruby ..................................... 113

Leela ..................................... 120

Devi ..................................... 129

Variance ....................................... 136

Growth Experiences in the Out-of School Collegial Context ........ 143

Growth Experiences in the Out-of School Collegial Context: A Reﬂection 150
CHAPTER 5

COLLEGIALITY WITHIN HIERARCHIES ...................... 158

Introduction ..................................... 158

Jo’s Story ...................................... 160

A Foreshadowing ............................. 160

First Impressions of Colleagues ..................... 161

Perceptions of Collegiality Across Time: Constancy and Change . 168

Viji’s Story ..................................... 179

A Foreshadowing ............................. 179

First Impressions of Colleagues ..................... 180

Perceptions of Collegiality Across Time: Constancy and Change . 188

Jo and Viji: The Deeper Story .......................... 201

A Three-Tier Hierarchy .......................... 202

Dimensions of Collegiality ........................ 224

viii

Contributions to Collegiality and Teacher Induction Research ....... 241
A Model of Collegiality .......................... 242

Possibilities and Limits of a Formal Teacher Induction Program . 243

EPILOGUE
A VOICE FROM THE FUTURE ............................ 250
REFERENCES ........................................ 266

ix

Table 1

Table 2

Table 3

Table 4

LIST OF TABLES

Panel Head’s Roles and Responsibilities ................. 41
Speciﬁc Contexts of Participants’ Schools ................ 64
Chronology of Interviews with the Beginning Teachers ........ 98
Responsibilities Assumed in Collectivistic Settings ......... 103

CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

A Voice from the Past

It was sometime in December many years ago. As the postman appeared on his
bicycle in the distance, a young woman in her early twenties wondered if the letter
from the Ministry of Education would ever come. Then, when it did, with trembling
hands she tore it open, parents and older siblings surrounding her. There was silence
as everyone searched for just one word in the letter--the name of the place that she
would be posted to, her ﬁrst teaching assignment. Hundreds of young Malaysian men
and women in the country must have felt exactly as she did then.

Someone broke the silence, "Where is this place? " A sister ran for an atlas
that had seen better days. They could not ﬁnd the name of the village or town. Then
they remembered the ﬁve-foot map behind the door of their parents ’ room. They knew
where the state was, right at the south, the state furthest from the island where they
lived, up in the north. Finally, someone found the place, in such tiny print on the
gigantic map that it would have been easy to miss.

At the beginning of the new year, for Malaysians started the academic year in
early January then, the young woman boarded a train for Kuala Lumpur, the

country ’s capital, a nine-hour overnight trip. Then she took a taxi, another four-hour

2

trip, that brought her to a small town, then yet another taxi that brought her to yet a
smaller town with just one main street, where she would start her ﬁrst year of
teaching. At the taxi station, she asked for directions to the school. In a daze, she
found herself seated in a three-wheeled trishaw, a traditional means of transportation.
As they passed rice-ﬁelds and fruit trees, she wondered, pensively: What will my ﬁrst

school be like? And my ﬁrst term as a teacher? And the colleagues I will work with?

That voice from the past belongs to me. I shall never forget the images of
parents and siblings as they wished me luck before leaving for my ﬁrst teaching
position, nor that jostling trishaw ride, nor my ﬁrst glance at my ﬁrst school. Neither
will I forget my immediate alliance and friendship with a fellow beginning teacher as
we slowly settled into a profession that quickly proved to be more complex than met
the eye. And I will always remember, perhaps less vividly now, but certainly with
deeper understanding, the impact of the incredible ﬁrst months in the ﬁeld, amidst
about forty senior colleagues, on my self-image as a teacher.

Two decades have lapsed since I made my eventful journey as a ﬁrst-year
English teacher. As I let the journey slip back into the archives of my mind, the
equally incredible journeys made by ﬁve newly certiﬁed Malaysian elementary
English teachers, during their ﬁrst three months in the ﬁeld, take center stage. My
dissertation focuses on these journeys which are new and fresh and raw, journeys
made over unfamiliar terrain, journeys that are undoubtedly'unique and yet strangely

similar in some ways. These are journeys of unique individuals made in the midst of

colleagues, peers as well as seniors.

All ﬁve are young women in their early or mid-twenties. Having only women
participants is not a surprising choice considering that the majority of Malaysian
elementary English teachers are women. This parallels the situation in the United
States (Cazden & Mehan, 1989). I shadowed these young teachers-Jo, Viji, Ruby,
Leela and Devi‘--as they embarked on their journeys as ﬁrst-year teachers in three
different states in Malaysia. Through shadowing them as they made their journeys, I
sought an answer to my major research question: What are the perceptions of ﬁrst-
year English literacy teachers regarding the contributions of collegiality to their
growth as teachers?

Purpose of the Study

I now look back to a decade ago, January 1986, when I moved from my
position as an English teacher in a secondary boys’ school in Kuala Lumpur
(Malaysia’s capital and biggest city) to a teachers’ college in the same city where I
started work as a teacher educator in the ﬁeld of Teaching English as a Second
Language (henceforth TESL). I taught two types of English courses, the ﬁrst geared
toward improving TESL student teachers’ own proﬁciency in the English language,
and the other in methods and strategies of TESL. I watched young teachers graduate
from college each year. When these young graduates, women predominantly, were
certiﬁed in TESL after ﬁve semesters of study, the grand graduation ceremony

signiﬁed a separation between the teachers’ college and their schools. This separation

 

1Pseudonyms are used throughout the text.

4

seemed temporary only in rare cases, such as in the case of teachers who were given
opportunities to return for inservice courses. In most cases, the separation was ﬁnal.

In Malaysia, the Ministry of Education provides permanent placements to all
graduates from teachers’ colleges. They are scattered far and wide, some to their
hometowns, some to urban areas, and others to rural, sometimes remote, parts of the
country. In their new schools, the young teachers assume full responsibilities, just like
teachers who may have had a quarter century of teaching experience. The professional
experiences of these ﬁrst-year teachers seem to receive little attention. Instructors in
teachers’ colleges assume the stance that their responsibilities in teacher preparation
are completed once teachers are certiﬁed, and they continue with the education of
existing student teachers, new intakes of preservice teachers, and, in certain cases,
inservice teachers.

Such is my perception of the existing situation in the 31 teachers’ colleges in
Malaysia. In coming to Michigan State University in Fall 1993, the disconcerting
feeling that I have always had, that something was amiss with our severing of ties
with our ﬁrst-year teachers, began to be more sharply deﬁned. The literature that I
had read in the context of beginning American teachers afﬁrmed my fears that the
ﬁrst few months of teaching could be a trying, if not traumatic, experience for
teachers. These words of a researcher impressed upon me that tracing ﬁrst-year
Malaysian teacher journeys was timely:

For beginning teachers, thoughts of September are exciting, yet often

overwhelming. New teachers enter the profession imbued with the mission that

they can make a small difference in the lives of children. Yet by the time
October rolls around, preconceived notions and ideas about teaching are not

5

what they seem to be in the reality and context of the classroom. Ideal visions
of teaching can easily turn into nightmares. (Krasnow, 1993, p. 1)

The ﬁrst year of teaching, especially the ﬁrst few months, is a crucial period
in a teacher’s life. There is much literature in the United States claiming that the
conditions under which a beginner carries out her teaching have long-term effects.
According to the National Institute of Education (1978), for instance, the conditions
under which a person carries out the ﬁrst year of teaching have a great inﬂuence

. . . on the level of effectiveness which the teacher is able to achieve and

sustain over the years; on the attitudes which govern teacher behavior over a

good forty-year career; and indeed, on the decision whether or not to continue

in the teaching profession. (p. 3)

What is the nature of the very early professional life of a teacher? A look at
theoretical and empirical literature across the past few decades suggests that beginning
teachers in the United States face great difﬁculties during the induction phase of their
careers (Taylor, 1965; Fuller, 1969; Lortie, 1975; Johnston & Ryan, 1980; Krasnow,
1993). We can draw similar conclusions from international literature on teacher
induction (Yusoff, 1990; Renwick & Vize, 1993).

American educators have claimed a link between the difﬁculties that beginning
teachers face and experiences of teacher isolation in schools (Lortie, 1975; Smyth,
1992; Featherstone, 1992). Increased collegiality as a potential solution to the
problem of beginning teacher growth has been proposed with conﬁdence, with
caution, and with hesitation (Smyth, 1992; Krasnow, 1993; Featherstone, 1992).

The recommendation that increased collegiality would help to address the

problem of beginning teacher growth has special interest for me because I come from

6

a context where there is in existence a long history of collegiality in all schools. By
this, I mean that the nature of the teaching profession in Malaysia makes it incumbent
on teachers to work together in their everyday professional lives. This situation exists
in other countries as well, such as in China (Paine & Ma, 1993).

But educators have also variously argued: Collegiality promotes teacher growth
(Wallace & Louden, 1994); individualism is beneﬁcial because it allows individuality
which in turn promotes creativity (Hargreaves, 1993); there is contrived collegiality,
different from collegiality per se (Hargreaves & Dawe, 1990); collegiality has
potential for teacher development, but is problematic (Schwille, 1993); collegiality,
while it promotes collective autonomy, simultaneously deprives one of individual
autonomy (Little, 1990); and collegiality within hierarchy is problematic (Ali, Qasim,
Jaffer, & Greenland, 1993). The debate continues, suggesting that any attempt to
evaluate collegiality in relation to teacher growth is bound to be in the face of
opposing evaluations as well. If views are divided even in deﬁning what it means, it
is even more difﬁcult to reach a consensus about what it looks like, and how to
evaluate it as a solution to teacher growth.

My study focusing on the perceptions of ﬁrst-year Malaysian teachers
regarding the role collegiality plays in their early professional lives adds to this
ensuing debate. In adding my voice to the conversation, I see many purposes for my
study. First, in highlighting the nature of adjustment that Malaysian beginning
teachers have to make as soon as they leave the teachers’ college and enter the

workplace, I provide a much needed international example of teacher induction. This

7

example promises a contrasting perspective because it takes place not in a typical
American context where isolation is taken for granted, but, in fact, in a context where
the opposite, collegiality, is as common ”as the air in which we live” (Paine & Ma,
1993).

In my context, my subjects--all newly certiﬁed, young teachers--join
communities where a tradition of teachers working together has long existed.
Collegiality is central to their early development as teachers. Such collegiality may be
"contrived" (Hargreaves & Dawe, 1990) in the sense that it is often the consequence
of external demands of the school administration, or the education system, or the
national curriculum. Or it may be genuine, the external demands being merely a
catalyst. To the highly perceptive beginning teacher, it might be easy to tell whether
the nature of collegiality enacted reﬂects, or does not reﬂect, an inner conviction that
working closely with colleagues is beneﬁcial for all in the profession. Whatever the
case, right from the start, beginning Malaysian teachers have to work within collegial
environments.

More speciﬁcally, the situation of Malaysian beginning teachers is unique and
complex: They are required, right from the beginning, to coordinate and cooperate
with established teachers in both curricular matters (like participating in subject panels
dealing with planning, instruction, and evaluation), and in m-currigular matters (like
running the English language Society or organizing school-wide literacy campaigns).
Beginning teachers have, at least, a vague sense of this, having observed their

teachers’ involvement over many years of schooling. Multiple questions, subsidiary to

8

the major research question, come to my mind as I reﬂect on the situation to be faced
by all beginning teachers:

1. What are their expectations of their future colleagues prior to entering the ﬁeld?

2. What are their ﬁrst impressions of their colleagues after they have reported at their
schools and become acquainted with them?

3. Do these ﬁrst impressions change or remain constant over time?

4. In terms of difﬁculties and dilemmas that they may face in the early months, what
are their expectations, hopes, and inclinations with regard to collegial interventions?
5. What are the teachers’ perceptions of their own growth, and how are these linked
with the nature of collegiality that they have experienced?

6. How do teachers’ initial expectations as they enter the ﬁeld compare with their
perceptions after having experienced collegiality for some months?

I have raised multiple questions. Collectively, they prompt us to investigate
teachers’ perceptions of the contributions of collegiality to their growth as teachers.
The literature on collegiality strongly suggests that both the concept and practice of
collegiality are complex matters. Earlier citations in this paper suggest that there are
multiple and varied conceptualizations of collegiality. It is seen as an ideal, and it is
seen as a paradox. Similarly, in practice, the literature implies a high degree of
variance in the quality of its enactment: It may be done well or it may be done badly.
In this study, beginning teachers’ perceptions of its enactment are central to the major
research question: What are the perceptions of ﬁrst-year English literacy teachers

regarding the contributions of collegiality to their growth as teachers?

9
Focus: The First Three Months

My study focuses on the ﬁrst three months of beginning teachers’ lives. In this
section, I address the question: Why would I focus on the ﬁrst three months? Why
not focus on their practica (i.e., preservice ﬁeld experiences)? Or the ﬁrst one week
of the induction year? Or the end of the induction year? Following, I share my views
about what makes the ﬁrst quarter a critical period for investigation.

I would describe the ﬁrst few months of a teacher’s life as the ”demanding
early months. " Different writers have vividly described the situation of ﬁrst-year
teachers shortly after their entry into schools. ”For beginning teachers, thoughts of
September are exciting. . . . Yet by the time October rolls around, preconceived
notions and ideas about teaching are not what they seem to be in the reality and
context of the classroom” (Krasnow, 1993, p. 1). "It seemed like for the ﬁrst 3 or 4
weeks it never ended” (Schempp, Sparkes, & Templin, 1993, p. 461). "Fully
responsible for the instruction of his students from his ﬁrst working day, the
beginning teacher performs the same tasks as the twenty-ﬁve-year veteran” (Lortie,
1975, p. 72). There is a stress here on the dilemmas of the W in a
ﬁrst-year teacher’s life. It is a period when the attitudes and behaviors of colleagues
might make a crucial difference in a beginning teachers’ life. If collegiality is to be
defended as a positive contributor to beginning teacher growth, then it would make
sense to study the issues surrounding it in the demanding early months of a teacher’s
career. If collegiality is presumed to be paradoxical in nature, that is, it both supports

and hampers beginning teacher growth, the demanding early months would also be an

10

opportune time to see if and how it is so.

In the Malaysian context, the ﬁrst three months are crucial. A newcomer is
often an object of curiosity to colleagues. She is ofﬁcially introduced to them at the
ﬁrst staff (i.e., teachers’) meeting, just as she is ofﬁcially introduced to the entire
school at the ﬁrst school assembly. In most schools, she attends at least three types of
meetings involving other English literacy teachers: (a) She attends the ﬁrst _E_ngl_i_s_h
language paael meeting at the beginning of the school year, and here she becomes
aware of the whole group of English literacy teachers, from the panel head to the
various grade-level English language heads, to the established teachers, and ﬁnally to
fellow beginning teachers. (b) She attends the ﬁrst grﬂe—level English laaguaga
smrgimsign meeting where issues regarding common planning, common testing, and
common evaluation often make up the agenda. If she had more than one grade-level
English class, as is often the case since English teachers tend to "specialize" rather
than teach a variety of subjects, she attends multiple grade-level coordination
meetings. Her circle of colleagues widens. (c) She attends meetings whsrs English
W for the English Language Society and
school-wide literacy campaigns. In many cases, she may be assigned to other
committees as well, such as the Resource Center Committee or the Parent-Teacher
Association. This means more meetings, and more responsibilities in collectivistic
settings (i.e., settings where teachers work together).

Life during the ﬁrst few months can be overwhelming for these beginning

teachers for the following reasons. First, these meetings--English panel meetings,

11

grade-level coordination meetings, and meetings to discuss co-curricular literacy
activities for the school--tend to happen almost simultaneously, rather than
sequentially, and all concentrate on the ﬁrst quarter of the school year. Next, this is
the ﬁrst time that she is having a full teaching schedule and, in most cases, a
classroom of her own (i.e., homeroom), a striking contrast to her practica when she
would have no more than half the regular teaching schedule, and no homeroom
responsibilities. Third, she is interacting with a larger and larger number of
colleagues in both curricular and co-curricular matters, an obvious departure from the
practicum experience when she needed to interact only with a cooperating teacher and
a ﬁeld instructor. Finally, she has to make sense, holistically speaking, of the syllabi
provided by the Ministry of Education, and translate those syllabi, and the philosophy
behind them, into classroom practice, and the way she makes sense of them should
not depart too greatly from how other teachers make sense of the syllabi because
ultimately she has to prepare her students for and through similar evaluation
mechanisms such as common written and oral examinations. She, herself, right from
the ﬁrst monthly testing period, may have to assume standardized test-building and
scoring responsibilities for the grade levels that she is teaching. Since there are often
common monthly tests (and, later, common half-yearly and annual examinations), she
has to adhere strictly to timelines for implementing the syllabi.

In these demanding early months, in other words, before schools have their
major intra-semester break in mid-February, these teachers would have to learn the

ropes from and amidst their colleagues, and learn them fast. It is only after this

12

intra-semester break that her tasks, responsibilities, and dilemmas may take on a more
recurrent pattern. The ﬁrst three months, therefore, can be seen as a major transition
from student teacher to full-ﬂedged teacher, from the teachers’ college to the
professional workplace, and Malaysian beginning teachers invariably make this
transition amidst interactions with their colleagues.
The major feature that emerges from my description of the Malaysian
beginning teacher context is that He i li is n t nl rel v nt t in f t
ch r in m ndin l m n h . It may very well
mean that only after the beginning teacher has adapted to ”contrived” collegiality
(Hargreaves & Dawe, 1990), and to the commonalities in curricular as well as co-
curricular matters within the school subculture, that she may then seek the space and
luxury of attending to her predispositions. Such then is my rationale for focusing on
collegiality issues during the ﬁrst three months of induction into teaching rather than
during other periods.
Dissertation Organization
I organize this dissertation around ﬁve chapters and an epilogue. Chapter 1
introduces my major research question, focusing on the perceptions of beginning
teachers regarding the contributions of collegiality to their growth as teachers. In
Chapter 2, I review studies closely associated with my research question, namely
beginning teacher studies, collegiality studies, and studies regarding the philosophical
bases of teacher growth. I also provide some documentation on the Malaysian

collegial tradition as a backdrop to my study. In Chapter 3, I share with my reader

13

the research process underlying this study. Chapter 4 compares and contrasts the
perceptions of beginning teachers regarding the enactment of collegiality in two
different settings: (a) within the workplace, and (b) outside the workplace, in terms of
interacting with me as participants in the study. In Chapter 5, I explore the
complexities of collegiality enacted within hierarchical school structures, focusing on
two cases. I illustrate the notion that collegiality is a paradox, discuss what emerges
as deﬁning collegiality, and highlight some contributions of the study to knowledge
about collegiality and teacher induction. Finally, in the epilogue, I reﬂect on the study
as a whole, sharing with my reader thoughts about supportive services for beginning

teachers which would simultaneously promote their growth as teachers.

CHAPTER 2

REVIEW OF LITERATURE

My major research question is, ”What are the perceptions of ﬁrst-year English
literacy teachers regarding the contributions of collegiality to their growth as
teachers?" Here, I review four areas of literature pertinent to the research question.
First, since the study focuses on newly certiﬁed teachers, I review studies related to
beginning teacher growth, both in the United States and outside. I share some insights
into the major themes and issues that investigators in the ﬁeld concern themselves
with, and the nature of the agreements and debates in beginning teacher studies.

Second, my study focuses on beginning teachers’ perceptions of the nature and
quality of collegiality enacted in their schools in relation to themselves. Thus, I
explore theoretical and empirical literature in the area of workplace collegiality. I
present different understandings and connotations of the term ”collegiality.” I also
look at different views and claims regarding the contributions of collegiality to teacher
growth.

My third area of review is the philosophical bases of beginning teacher growth
models. Based on theoretical and empirical literature, I arrive at and discuss three
theoretical growth models which might assist our understanding when we vicariously

experience the very early professional journeys of the beginning Malaysian teachers in

14

15

my study. Among other things, we investigate the power of dialogue and critical
questioning, and resultant self-reﬂection as tools for teacher learning.

Lastly, I provide documentation on the Malaysian school context that is
relevant to my research question. I provide details of some major collaborative
activities that beginning Malaysian teachers are involved in, right from the start of
their careers, both within the classroom and outside. I elaborate especially on the
roles and responsibilities of Malaysian teachers which might be unfamiliar to an
American audience, such elaboration centering on roles and responsibilities assumed
within collectivistic settings (i.e., settings where teachers work together). Such
information lays the background to the beginning teacher stories that I tell.

Review of Beginning Teacher Studies

My review of beginning teacher studies indicates a consensus that the induction
phase of a teacher’s life is problematic. Although this is the general tone in research
reports, the degree of gravity attached to the situation varies. In some cases the
picture appears very dismal indeed, indicating that ”Ideal visions of teaching can
easily turn into nightmares" among beginning teachers (Krasnow, 1993, p. 1). In
other cases, seriousness is tempered by occasional success. Johnson and Ryan (1980)
noted that for some, the beginning of a teaching career ". . . may be charged with
excitement, challenge and exhilaration of success. For others, the ﬁrst year of
teaching may seem to be confusing, uncontrollable, ﬁlled with unsolvable problems
and threatened by personal defeat and failure” (p. 2).

Given a fair variety of ﬁrst-year teacher narratives, I sought persistent themes

16

and patterns across some of them. I balance my report by sharing ﬁndings from
contexts outside the United States as well. Beginning teacher empirical studies tended
to focus on the following themes: (a) teacher isolation, (b) adaptive strategies during
teacher induction, and (c) teacher biography.

T r I i n

One persistent theme in recent empirical studies done in the United States is
that of beginning teacher isolation as teachers assume control of their classrooms,
curriculum and instruction. Isolation is depicted in two different ways: physical
isolation and mm isolation. First, we look at physical isolation. This is a
state often imposed upon American teachers as a result of heavy work schedules or
rigid physical arrangements (Smyth, 1992; Krasnow, 1993; Schempp, Sparkes, &
Templin, 1993).

Researchers allude to beginning teachers’ heavy work schedules which provide
them with little or no time to interact with colleagues, much less collaborate with
them in curricular and instructional matters. The following are quotes from empirical
studies, reﬂecting a fairly common reaction of beginning teachers as they ﬁnd
themselves overwhelmed by heavy work schedules: "It seemed like for the ﬁrst 3 or 4
weeks it never ended. At the end of the day I felt like I had been on my feet for 20
days straight” (Schempp, Sparkes, & Templin, 1993, p. 461). ”There’s so much time
in a day that I can reasonably hope to accomplish certain work. . . . the work seems
never-ending” (Krasnow, 1993, p. 15).

Other beginners also talked about how heavy work schedules and the

17

immediacy of classroom-based demands invaded their lives (Schempp, Sparkes, &
Templin, 1993). For several beginning elementary teachers in the United States,
heavy work schedules meant that they were often physically conﬁned to their
classrooms.

In contrast to the picture above, little is written about American beginning
teachers being actively involved in collective or collaborative work such as planning
common curricular activities, or creating and amassing common instructional aids and
ideas for teacher use at particular grade levels, or participating in discussions on
school-wide activities to promote certain values like an awareness of the environment
or the importance of literacy skills for children. The literature available implies that
collaboration along the above lines tends to focus on small and scattered teams such
as in Professional Development Schools, comprising mainly sxperisngg school
teachers and university researchers. Accounts of novice teachers being actively
included in such collaborative instructional and curricular ventures do exist (e.g.,
Raphael, Goatley, Woodman, & McMahon, 1994; Hutton, Spiesman, & Bott, 1994)
but appear to be rare.

Outside the United States, such as in China and Malaysia, there are contrasting
situations to the phenomenon of physical isolation described earlier. In China,
physical isolation through heavy work schedules does not seem to be common. On the
contrary, teachers in China are given considerable release time to plan and discuss
with colleagues (Paine & Ma, 1993). Similarly in Malaysia, elementary teachers get

an average of two to three school periods off in a school day, excluding the recess,

18

which could be used for multiple purposes: for planning, informal discussions,
meetings, grading, or resolving student problems. In other words, the teacher is
usually in the classroom for about two-thirds of a school day, the other one-third free
to complete other school-related work. Additionally, the half-hour recess for pupils
and teachers means that teachers have even more release time.

Further, in the Malaysian case, beginning teachers and experienced teachers
alike are automatically members of ”subject panels” which meet and engage in
collective curricular work (Choo, 1981; Lee, 1992). Such panels are established
according to recommended Ministry of Education guidelines (Kementerian Pendidikan
Malaysia, 1986). More speciﬁc details about the nature of this joint work appear
later, in the fourth and ﬁnal area of this literature review. The literature suggests that
physical isolation is not an issue in the context of my study.

That physical isolation appears more serious in the United States than either
China or Malaysia can be attributed to the allocation of work space for teachers.
While in the United States, a teacher’s "work space” is in her classroom, teachers in
China (Paine & Ma, 1993) and Malaysia are allocated space in large teachers’
common rooms. A common feature would be to have teachers sit around big tables in
a common room rather have smaller individual desks. Teachers tend to spend their
planning time in these rooms, thus facilitating regular, informal discussions during the
work day. When students have problems, they sometimes seek their homeroom
teachers in the common room. Often, student-teacher conversations are public;

collegial interventions such as suggestions on addressing student concerns are often

19

offered freely, and are not seen as patronizing teacher behavior. This differs in the
United States. The absence of physical supports such as common rooms for teachers
encourages individualism in the United States.

By itself, physical isolation need not be looked upon as a problem or even as a
disadvantage (Hargreaves, 1993). Some researchers, concerned about the harsh
rhetoric that sometimes surrounds the issue of individualism, resulting from isolation,
have attempted to show that it could have a positive effect: Teachers are able to
appropriate a sense of autonomy in classroom instruction. The claim is that while
individualism undoubtedly results from isolation, individualism can also lead to an
assertive pursuit of individuality in teaching--of personal creativity, in other words
(Hargreaves, 1993). Such research shows that physical isolation need not be
invariably negative in its effect upon teachers.

However, the above view appears to be less defensible in the context of
beginning teachers, given their inexperience and confusion as they confront the
Herculean task of shaping themselves into teachers (Featherstone, 1992). Isolation is,
instead, seen as causing or accentuating difﬁdence and frustration; it is hardly an
enabling situation for growth (Fuller & Brown, 1975 ; Kagan, 1992).

In the preceding statement touching on feelings of difﬁdence and frustration, I
touched on a second and perhaps more common form of isolation: pmhplggigl (or
emotional) isolation. This second form of isolation is often linked with the ﬁrst. But it
also happens when physical isolation does not exist. Psychological isolation is of

concern to researchers in countries all over. In short, teachers may work in seemingly

20
collegial environments and yet feel alone in confronting work-related difﬁculties or
resolving dilemmas that come their way. Such isolation can be self-inﬂicted as a
result of fear in requesting collegial interventions. The following excerpt illustrates
this psychological isolation:

DeFranco had been struggling along for three months in virtual isolation. The

(well-known) reputation and rhetoric of her school . . . reinforce her loneliness

and anxiety. . . . So, much as she wanted some advice on curriculum and

management, she kept her problems to herself, afraid of how the principal and

other teachers would respond to hints of difﬁculty. (Featherstone, 1992, p. 6)
The following beginning teacher voices in other empirical studies similarly express
the trauma of psychological isolation: "I was so scared to begin teaching. I had many
nightmares of not having control. . . . I was ﬁlled with self-doubt and feeling so
alone” (Lisa, in Krasnow, 1993, pp. 14-15). "This is my introduction (to teaching),
and I’m thinking, ’Oh God! I’m not going to make it!” (Marty, in Schempp,
Sparkes, & Templin, 1993, p. 458).

Voices such as the above resonate in beginning teachers’ narratives in multiple
contexts, compelling us to note their psychological isolation. Researchers enjoin their
voices to the issue:

They engage in a struggle that is both emotional and intellectual. All in virtual

isolation, armed only with the weapons they brought to their ﬁrst classroom--

the images of themselves, of teaching, and of schools, the words of professors,

spouses, ﬁances, friends, parents, and siblings. (Featherstone, 1992, pp. 17-

18)

In the above quote, colleagues are conspicuously omitted from the list of

"weapons" that beginning teachers are ”armed" with as they enter their classrooms.

But this is in the context of beginning teachers in the United States. In Malaysia

21

where my study takes place, teachers often ﬁnd themselves in multiple collectivistic
settings where they need to work together. There are opportunities for dialogue, and
for getting to know one another as colleagues. Thus, such a context features as an
interesting research site for me to investigate if, in view of occasions to mingle and
cooperate, colleagues become another of the ”weapons” that beginning teachers arm
themselves with as they enter their classrmms--or whether beginning teachers silently
engage in struggles on their own, regardless of the context.

A 'v r ' D ’ T r In u i 11

Based on several beginning teacher narratives, visions of teaching and the
reality of the classroom context contrast sharply. When beginning teachers discover
the complexities of being teachers, and collegial interventions are either unwelcome or
not available, beginning teachers are often forced to ﬁnd a means of survival on their
own. This stage when teachers struggle for survival is an important feature in some
teacher growth models. The Fuller model (1969), and the Fuller & Brown model
(1975) present stage theories of the growth of teachers. In the Fuller & Brown model,
the second stage is named the ”survival” stage, and is reminiscent of Lortie’s (1975)
'sink-or-swim" phenomenon in the context of beginning teachers.

Some researchers describe the same phenomenon in more dramatic, sometimes
traumatic terms. For instance, the terms rsality shmk or W are often
used to characterize the rude awakening as one negotiated the hazardous boundary
between the safe and sheltered nature of teacher preparation programs, and the harsh

and rude reality of everyday classroom life (Veenman, 1984). That the transition

22

could be traumatic for some was inferred from the ﬁndings of a German study carried
out by Muller-Fahbrodt, Cloetta, & Dann (cited in Yusoff, 1990). Signs of trauma
were characterized by drastic changes in beginning teachers’ behaviors, attitudes,
personalities, and ﬁnal decisions to leave the profession.

Examples of case studies showing the consequences of reality shock are
abundant in the literature. Teachers in multiple subject specializations approach their
ﬁrst teaching jobs with enthusiasm. They have curricular goals in mind that they aim
to achieve, but in the realities of the actual school contexts, surrender them for
immediate low-order goals like managing student behavior. They may ﬁnd that there
are no formal induction programs available in their workplaces, perhaps even no
curriculum guides or coordinators whom they can consult (Smyth, 1992). A sense of
bewilderment and chaos overcomes them. Following is an illustration of how
beginning teachers can be easily overwhelmed by their classes. The context is that of
a ﬁrst-year physical education teacher:

. . . they’re really congested a lot of times, and as soon as one class is

leaving, another one’s coming in. And just the transition time from one class

to another wastes three or four minutes of one class’s time. If the other class is
slow to get in, or slow to get out, there goes ﬁve minutes’ time. Scheduling is

not the best. (Smyth, 1992, p. 12)

New teachers are left on their own to perform the same duties of twenty-ﬁve-
year veterans (Lortie, 1975). Teachers experience reality shock in not having
anticipated rigorous work schedules, and not having thought about how these would

affect their teaching. Without anyone with experience to consult and without proper

curriculum guides, original curricular goals are sacriﬁced as teachers concentrate on

23

keeping students under control (Smyth, 1992).

Such action—-an exclusive focus on managing student behavior rather than
instruction geared toward achieving curricular goals--is a consequence of reality
shock, a common adaptive strategy. It appears to be a gender-free strategy (Renwick
& Vize, 1993); it is adopted with kindergarten children in an art class (Featherstone,
1992) as well as with older children in physical education classes (Smyth, 1992); it
happens in the United States (Schempp, Sparkes, & Templin, 1993) and it happens
outside the country (Renwick & Vize, 1993). In experiencing major difﬁculties with
managing student behavior, beginning teachers often respond predictably--by being
more authoritarian, more conservative, and more teacher—centered (F eatherstone,
1992; Doyle, 1986). The implications for beginning teacher growth are serious: By
focusing narrowly on classroom management, subject matter instruction could be
trivialized or marginalized. The following case involving the physical education
teacher (mentioned earlier) illustrates this well:

It was just too frustrating to try to get everybody to . . . stay on task. . . . So

instead of beating myself over the head all the time, I ﬁgure that I’m just

going to work on improving their ﬁtness, and their ﬂexibility, and things like

that. Something that’s easier to monitor. (Smyth, 1993, p. 14)

Having to give up one’s original curricular goals in place of managing student
behavior is reminiscent of the ”wash-out effect,” whereby what a teacher learns in his
teacher education program is progressively eroded by school practice (Zeichner &
Tabachnick, 1981). Reality shock experiences and their wash-out effects are described

in several other studies (Schempp, Sparkes, & Templin, 1993; Krasnow, 1993;

Renwick & Vize, 1993).

24

Exclusive focus on managing student behavior often changes personalities, and
makes one resort to words and actions incongruent with one’s personality, often
resulting in horrifying self-knowledge. The reﬂections of some beginning teachers
reinforce how self—knowledge is acquired during the process of exercising the adaptive
strategy of controlling student behavior: ”I get mad. Because I want them to jump
when I blink. . . . At that moment I felt like a drill sergeant” (Suzanna Tierney, in
Featherstone, 1992, p. 2). ”. . . my getting angry and exploding . . . didn’t help the
situation with him at all. Because it just allowed him to think, ’Ah, ha, I found her
breaking point’" (Carol Holtz, in Featherstone, 1992, p. 11).

This focus on classroom management is well documented in the literature on
beginning teachers-—in empirical studies as shown above, in literature reviews (Kagan,
1992; Doyle, 1986), and in critical analyses (Waller, 1932; Duke, 1979). Teachers,
regardless of their subject areas, initially focus on themselves and their needs rather
than on their pupils and the latter’s needs. Only when their classrooms were under
reasonable control would teachers take the risk of venturing outside the egocentric
focus on themselves and on establishing order in their classrooms, and consider issues
connected with students and their learning (Fuller & Brown, 1975 ; Kohl, 1984).

Interestingly, in all the studies cited so far, beginning teachers’ adaptive
strategies of managing student behavior seem to be 1m efforts without the solicited
or volunteered intervention of more experienced colleagues. Teachers appeared to
struggle alone and unassisted despite being in the midst of colleagues who, having

gone past that struggle, might have had some words of wisdom.

25
T 1' Bi h

Many writers in the ﬁeld attest to the powerful inﬂuence that one’s biography
has on learning to teach. It is believed that personal histories inﬂuence individuals to
plan their goals according to their past experiences. Thus, some strongly stress that
teachers be freed from past inﬂuences of former teachers, parents, or cultural norms.

In every future teacher’s past are experiences of watching teachers at work.
This is termed the "apprenticeship of observation” (Lortie, 1975, p. 61). Because of
the number of years spent in schools observing teachers at work, the ”apprenticeship"
becomes very strongly ingrained. Thus, future teachers need opportunities to examine
their prior school experiences during their teacher preparation programs. Without
cognitive control of these experiences, teachers are likely to teach in the familiar old
ways of their own teachers, often resulting in the undesirable perpetuation of outdated
ways of instruction. In other words, unexamined familiarity with conservative
teaching practices helps thwart the efforts of teacher educators who are trying to
implement innovative teacher education programs.

Empirical studies show that biography is often a strong factor in the choice of
teaching as a career. Sometimes, happy and successful learning experiences as
students prompt such a career choice: There is the desire to emulate role models and
provide the same kind of positive experience to other children. Sometimes, the
opposite could be true. Dissatisfying learning experiences at school could, ironically,
prompt people to enter the profession so that other children would not experience the

same kind of experiences that they had as students.

26

The relevance of teacher biography to the study is that, in some cases, the
learning experiences that beginning teachers had as students in school or at the
teachers’ college might predispose them to interact with their new colleagues and
students in certain ways. Since the study focuses on ﬁrst-year teachers’ perceptions of
the contributions of collegiality to their growth, having knowledge of the teachers as
learners in the past would be helpful in understanding them as beginning teachers.

Review of Teacher Collegiality Studies

This second area of review addresses one frequently asked question: What is
collegiality as a concept, and what are its connotations? I look at different, sometimes
opposing, conceptualizations of collegiality. In other words, I focus on the ﬂuidity
and ambiguity of the concept.

The term "collegiality” is in opposition to the pervasive isolation that
American teachers experience. It appears to be used interchangeably with other terms.
Such terms include ”teacher collaboration" (Wallace & Louden, 1994), "teachers
working together” (Paine & Ma, 1993), and ”collaborative culture(s)" (Hargreaves &
Dawe, 1990).

The term ”collegiality” is open to multiple interpretations. Little (1990)
describes the term as ”conceptually amorphous and ideologically sanguine” (p. 509),
and suggests that we look at collegiality as occupying a continuum: The lower end is
occupied by the quick exchange of stories among teachers and providing occasional
aid and assistance, and the upper end is characterized by joint work as teachers

collaborate in matters relating to curriculum and instruction.

27

First, we consider the lower end. In the United States there appears to be
characteristic distancing among teachers in terms of both exchanging stories, and
offering aid and assistance. Colleagues will provide help or advice when asked;
otherwise ”teachers carefully preserve the boundary between offering advice when
asked and interfering in unwarranted ways in another teacher’s work" (Little, 1990,
p. 515). This view of non-intervention or non-intrusion among American teachers has
been critiqued by other researchers in the ﬁeld (Lortie, 1975; Feiman-Nemser &
Floden, 1986; Hargreaves, 1993). Not surprisingly, the United States professional
teacher culture seems to be dominated by individualism.

The upper end, that of joint work as teachers share their experiences and work
together on instructional and curricular matters, appears to be rare among American
teachers. Little (1990) indicates that "joint work” is the condition where colleagues
hold mutual responsibility for working together. In this supportive environment, the
incentive for collaborative work is that of fulﬁlling intellectual, social and emotional
needs.

An example of collegiality as joint work could be the Chinese case where
teachers historically have closely collaborated in curriculum, instruction, and
research: ”Working together constitutes the circumstances or environment in which
Chinese teachers work; like the air in which we live, it seems to be too common and
too customary for people to notice its existence” (Paine & Ma, 1993, p. 677).

Aside from looking at collegiality as a continuum, the literature also shows

that collegiality is often discussed in terms of the degree or nature of collegiality

28

enacted in schools. Two types are sometimes referred to, ”contrived collegiality" and
"collaborative culture(s)" (Hargreaves & Dawe, 1990). The ﬁrst is comprised of
administratively contrived interactions among teachers where the teachers themselves
are not central in the planning and development of ideas; they merely put into practice
the ideas of other people. This tends to perpetuate technical aspects of teaching, with
limited emphasis on teacher exchange of ideas about connecting theory with practice.
Critical questions about goals, purposes, and value of teaching can routinely be
reduced to questions of means and procedures.

In "collaborative culture(s)," however, teachers claim ownership of their work
and are empowered to create curriculum and jointly reﬂect on their teaching.
Teachers in such supportive environments work on problems which are situated in
their contexts.

Collegiality is also discussed in connection with other constructs. These
include ”teacher autonomy” and ”teacher differentiation.” First, I look at collegiality
in relation to teacher autonomy. Individual teacher autonomy is often treated as the
price-tag of collegiality. It is claimed that as teachers move along the collegiality
continuum, that is, from occasional sharing of stories on the lower end to joint work
on the upper end, individual autonomy is curtailed as participants promote collective
autonomy (Little, 1990). In other words, as teachers collaborate, a price is incurred:
giving up some of one’s autonomy. The high value placed on individual autonomy in
the United States may explain why collegiality as joint work is difﬁcult to foster in

this country.

29

Conversely, in the collegial model that exists in most Malaysian schools, joint
work through subject panels and other committees is comprised of planning (e.g.,
common semester and yearly "schemes of work"); testing (e.g., common monthly
tests, mid-year examinations, and end-of-year examinations); creating resource
materials; discussing matters related to curriculum and instruction; and organizing
activities for the school such as literacy awareness campaigns. According to Little’s
(1990) conceptualization then, individual teacher autonomy is curtailed as joint work
takes place. But another way of looking at this is that collective autonomy prevails
and triumphs.

On the same topic of connecting collegiality with autonomy, Hargreaves
(1993) argues that the rarity of collegial environments should be regarded less
negatively. Since isolation encourages individualism and permits autonomy, teachers
are given the opportunity to pursue their ”individuality” in matters related to teaching,
individuality favorably deﬁned as personal creativity.

The other complex issue connected to collegiality is teacher differentiation.
Within schools are implicit hierarchies, differentiating administrators, experienced
teachers, and beginning teachers. In much American literature, though, it is stated
that differentiation is normally more obvious outside of the school context, and that,
within the school, teachers appear to be undifferentiated. This suggests that in terms
of status, knowledge, and expertise, experienced and beginning teachers are not
generally differentiated. The latter trend, however, is occasionally threatened, such as

when the Holmes Group (1986) and the Carnegie Task Force on Teaching as a

3O

Profession (1986) recommended explicit systems of teacher differentiation in the name
of improving the professional status of teachers (Labaree, 1992). The Holmes Group
offered a three-tier system of Instructors, Professional Teachers, and Career
Professionals, whereas the Carnegie Task Force offered a two—tier system.

As the spotlight increasingly focuses on teacher collegiality with a view to
promoting the development of all teachers, beginners included, the issue of teacher
differentiation is relevant. Literature about the wisdom of teachers’ practice implies
that more experienced teachers would be seen as possessing a different level of
content pedagogical expertise than neophytes (Shulman, 1987). When experienced
teachers and beginners gather together in conversation, differentiation might be
evident or felt, even if only tacitly. Whether differentiation exists in schools, whether
it can be overcome, or whether it is palatable to teachers, would determine to a great
extent the nature of collegial environments in speciﬁc school contexts.

Having looked at the ﬂuidity and ambiguity of collegiality as a concept, I now
explore literature on the connections between collegiality and teacher growth in the
context of beginning teachers. I focus on three theoretical growth models, each of
which determines the nature of collegiality that would be enacted.

Review on the Conceptual Bases of Collegial Growth Models

My research question looks into beginning teachers’ perceptions of how their
early growth as teachers is supported or hampered by collegial interventions, or the
absence of such. In this section of the review, I look into the theoretical framework

behind ”collegial growth models," deﬁned as models that link the growth of beginning

31

teachers with the inﬂuence of particular interactions with colleagues. Collectively, I
share insights from my reading regarding such questions: What does it mean to grow
as a teacher? How does one recognize growth within oneself or in another? What are
some tools to promote growth in the most effective, the most lasting, and the most
democratic forms? What are some collegial growth models in our understanding
today? What is our rationale for endorsing one or more of these collegial growth
models?

I do not approach the questions in sequence. Rather, I share three collegial
growth models where answers are either explicit, or tacitly embedded. The collegial
growth models arise from combining information from learning-to-teach literature and
literature on collegiality. The three conceptual models that I share differ according to
their starting points. The three different starting points are: (a) beginning teachers’
needs and problems, (b) an established knowledge base for teaching, and (c) s;el__f as
intentional learner. Depending on the starting point, the enactment of collegiality will
be different.

oll’MIB n"TherN nPrl

This ﬁrst collegiality model has the perspective of beginners’ needs and
problems as a starting point. Starting from such a perspective implies that there is the
tacit understanding by colleagues that needs and problems characterize the situation of
newly certiﬁed teachers. This in turn determines the speciﬁc nature of teacher
collegiality--the behaviors, comprising words, actions, and interactions, expected of

members of the teaching community. Experienced teachers in the implicit school

32

hierarchy are deemed wiser, more knowledgeable, and more competent in connecting
subject matter to students. Recent learning-to-teach literature provides valuable
insights into beginning teachers’ needs and problems (Bulloughs, 1985; Featherstone,
1992; Fuller, 1969; Kagan, 1992).

Starting from the perspective of beginners’ needs and problems suggests that
the notion of wisdom of practice (Buchmann, 1984; Feiman-Nemser, 1989, 1990)
meets with some consensus from both beginning and experienced teachers.
Experienced teachers are expected to be able and willing to "diagnose” as well as
respond to beginners’ needs and problems. Beginning teachers are cast as somewhat
needy, and occasionally deﬁcient, and experienced colleagues don "helper” or ”giver"
roles. Alternatively, beginners are the recipients of knowledge; colleagues are the
providers of knowledge (Wallace & Louden, 1994). The roles, though
complementary, are uni-directional, tending to lack reciprocity. The relationship
between beginning and experienced teachers can often be asymmetrical, resulting in
problematic "asymmetrical dialogues" (Tannen, 1990). Asymmetrical dialogues both
characterize and are indicative of status and power differentials.

We move to a second collegial model.

11' M IB n Iifin 'thnowl B

This collegial model, starting from the perspective of an established knowledge
base, differs signiﬁcantly from the ﬁrst model in that it rests on the assumption that
there is a scientiﬁc base for effective teaching. In the United States, views are divided

regarding the search for a professional knowledge base for teachers. In the past, there

33

have been attempts to develop teacher education programs with knowledge base
claims. Such examples include the Competency Based Teacher Education (CBTE)
programs which were put into practice in places like the University of Houston and
the University of Toledo in the 1970s. Eventually CBTE programs lost ground
(Sykes, 1984), throwing great doubts on the possibility of arriving at an agreed-upon
professional knowledge base.

In view of great advances in our knowledge of teaching based on recent
research, some educators are of the opinion that we can now lay claim to a
professional knowledge base (Holmes Group, 1986; Shulman, 1987; Brophy, 1993;
Reynolds, 1995). However, even among those who feel that we can lay claims to
such a knowledge base, opinions are divided about what counts. For instance, there is
disagreement and debate about the degree of importance to be placed on teacher
effectiveness studies in establishing a knowledge base (Shulman, 1987; Brophy,
1993). Such debates in the ﬁeld in the United States help to explain why a scientiﬁc
knowledge base for teaching is hard to come by.

Outside the United States however, mandated curricula in several countries
imply that there is an established and endorsed professional knowledge base for
teachers. As such the collegial model that is practiced is closely related to the
perpetuation of this knowledge base. In Malaysia, the mandated national curriculum
for preservice teachers in the 31 teachers’ colleges, the Ministry of Education’s
carefully prepared curriculum guides and teacher manuals, and the often centralized

testing practices in preservice teacher education programs suggest an

34

acknowledgement of a professional knowledge base for teachers.

With this notion of a knowledge-base in mind, experienced colleagues are
expected to help beginning teachers in two ways. First, experienced teachers help
beginners to survive the anxiety of assuming full responsibility for their own
classrooms, curriculum and instruction by providing advice and/or opportunities for
observing and emulating their practices. Second, they assist in the enculturation or
occupational socialization of these teachers into the teaching community. Such
practices are apparent in China as well (Paine & Ma, 1993).

A collegial model acknowledging a standard of professional knowledge ensures
some certainty of perpetuation of practice that has been researched and found to be
effective. On the other hand, it can also be seen as maintaining norms, and as not
being sufﬁciently open to change. Further, acknowledging a standard of professional
knowledge might be construed as slighting insiders’ knowledge of teaching, that is,
knowledge acquired through actual teaching experience that may differ from the
mandated professional knowledge base.

Finally, we take a look at a third collegial model. This model serves to
address the limitations of the ﬁrst two.

ll’MlB nh If Inninl r

The starting point departs dramatically from both that of beginners’ needs and
problems, and the assumption of a standard of professional teacher knowledge.
Rather, the focus would be to look at sslf g an intentignal laagnar. Concurrently,

teachers look at themselves as valuable sources of knowledge to others. This applies

35

to beginning teachers as well as to experienced colleagues. This starting point looks at
teachers, at any stage of their teaching careers, as W. To be an
intentional learner and simultaneously act as a source of knowledge (to oneself as well
as others) parallels the complementary acts of learning and teaching within oneself.

To be an intentional learner suggests a dramatic change, no less than a
transformation indeed, in the ”Discourse” of the community (Gee, 1990).
"Discourse," as used by Gee, refers to the integration of words, actions, interactions,
values, feelings, attitudes and thinking within a community. This takes time to
develop.

The self as ingntignal lgner focus has common but important implications
for beginning teachers as well as experienced colleagues. The ﬁrst implication is that
teachers in both categories are driven by a desire to improve their teaching, and that
both deny the likelihood of ever "arriving.” This stands in direct contrast to the idea
of a standard of practice that is ultimately reached through time or experience as in
the ﬁrst two collegial models. In other words, from the salf as intsntigaal lsgnsr
perspective, there is a denial of the notion that ”practice makes perfect, " a notion that
is somewhat reminiscent of the image of teacher as ”virtuoso” in China (Paine, 1990).
Rather, an altered notion--that "practice makes better”--might be more agreeable from
the salf as intantigml Ragnar perspective. Further, even experienced teachers have
much to learn from beginning teachers following this notion. This is especially so
since beginning teachers are fresh from college and may be armed with theoretical

knowledge of the latest ideas in the ﬁeld.

36
Another implication of the salf as intantional Ragnar perspective is that it

opens oneself up to a variety of learning tools, some of which are closely in line with
social constructivist beliefs and practices: to the meaningful use of dialogue with
others (Wells & Chang-Wells, 1992); to critical questioning and sharing of different
philosophies of teaching (Aaron, Chall, Durkin, Goodman, & Strickland, 1990); to
the use of life history methods, such as examining and sharing pedagogical
(auto)biographies (Schempp, Sparkes, & Templin, 1993; Kohl, 1984; Bulloughs,
1985); to the critical questioning of one another’s instructional practices (Gomez,
1988); to the scaffolding of one another’s growth through critique and afﬁrmation
(Gomez, 1988); and to the development of a spirit of curiosity and enquiry (Bullock,
1987). Shared or collective interrogation of experiences--of beginning teachers’
experiences as they confront problems of management and subject matter instruction,
and of experienced colleagues’ experiences as they attempt less familiar, or more
innovative and adventurous teaching--is the foundation of a helpful collegial
environment for beginning and experienced teachers alike.

The feature that pervades the list of learning tools above is that of dialogic
education. Educators within a sociocultural position give great precedence to the
learning opportunities that occur through dialogue. This point is emphasized by Wells
& Chang-Wells (1992):

. . when one adopts a sociocultural--as opposed to an individualistic--
perspective on education, talk, far from being an unimportant accompaniment
to the real business of learning and teaching, is seen to be a central and

constitutive part of every activity. In a very important sense, education is
dialogue. (p. 32)

37

It is useful to situate the importance of dialogic education in the context of
beginning and experienced teachers. Beginners enter new schools, often equipped with
theoretical knowledge of new and novel ideas in the ﬁeld (Schempp, Sparkes, &
Templin, 1993). This complements their experienced colleagues’ wisdom of practice
acquired by virtue of seniority. Mutually sharing these new ideas as well as the
wisdom of practice indicates the use of one another as sources of different forms of
knowledge. But this does not suggest blindly acknowledging ”best ways" of teaching.
Rather, it is recommended that teachers’ knowledge, whether theoretical or practical,
be problematized and collectively interrogated by beginning and experienced teachers.
It is only by so doing, and largely through the vehicle of dialogic interactions, that
beginning W teachers can come to new understandings of teaching and
learning, and realize that teaching should acknowledge the dynamic and contested
nature of teacher knowledge.

The preceding sentence indicates the need for change as a condition of the
collegial model. Freire ( 1970/ 1989) contends that for change to take place within a
community, an understanding of one’s reality is a prerequisite. Further, the best way
to effect change is from the inside out. Gee (1990) talks about the necessity of
possessing a meta-knowledge of Discourses before one can critique the Discourse of a
particular community with a view to changing it. Thus, one should avoid trying to
change the ways of a community of practice without ﬁrst trying to understand them.
These ideas of constancy and change should be situated: While simultaneously

learning to become members of a teaching community, beginning teachers can best be

38

helped to question its ways if the experienced colleagues among whom they are in
conversation with model a critical stance toward their own work. In this way
experienced teachers can assist in the enculturation or occupational socialization of
beginning teachers while concarrently perpetuating the qualities needed to transform
the culture of that very same community.

In the available literature, such a collegial model as described above is evident
in reports of collaborative teacher research. Cases of such research where preservice
or beginning teachers have participated actively as researchers are available but rare
(e.g., Hutton, Spiesman, & Bott, 1994), and usually tend to be part of university-
initiated efforts (e.g., Raphael, Goatley, Woodman, & McMahon, 1994). In the
majority of cases, beginning teachers are "researched upon" (e.g., Smyth, 1993;
Krasnow, 1992). Hargreaves & Dawe (1990) are of the view that promoting teacher
growth through collegiality calls for a shift in research from working an teachers to
working w_im them; they particularly recommend that research be jointly or
collaboratively done by teachers at their own schools, such research falling within the
description of this last collegial model.

Finally, with the collegial model that has as its starting point the self as
intentional learner, conscious rsﬂsstign through dialogue is deemed an important
practice. In the context of novice teachers, it is believed that the quality and depth of

reﬂection is the concomitant of the quality and depth of the questions that another

poses.

39
Review of the Malaysian Collegial Tradition

Here, I share glimpses of some practices in the Malaysian education context
that differ greatly from the American situation. These pieces of information provide
some useful background knowledge before we enter the participants’ schools and
professional lives. I organize this brief review in the following way: (a) I describe the
purposes and functions of subject panels that all beginning teachers would
automatically join. The subject panel is, by far, the most important teacher group for
beginning as well as experienced teachers. Subject panels focus primarily on
curricular and instructional matters (Kementerian Pendidikan Malaysia, 1986). (b) I
then describe the responsibilities of teachers in co-curricular programs; this is another
important area whether teachers often work together for the good of students.

After providing a close-up picture of teachers’ joint work in subject panels and
co—curricular activities for students, I share some information on the country’s
standardization of preservice teacher education programs, and the national education
philosophy. This is meant to highlight an important feature: the Ministry of
Education’s efforts to produce teachers who share a common professional knowledge
base and education philosophy.

T W r ’ T h r in ' P

These are called ”panitia,” a word borrowed from the English word "panel.”
The Ministry of Education provides guidelines for the establishment and functioning
of subject panels. The primary purpose of having subject panels in schools is to

ensure that the national curriculum is implemented appropriately and successfully.

40
Each subject panel has a head. The panel head plays a crucial role in leading

members to work closely together. According to guidelines from the Ministry of
Education, the panel head plays the multiple roles of administrator, planner, liaison
ofﬁcer, advocate, coordinator, supervisor and mentor (Lee, 1992). The relationship
between the panel head and the administration is crucial. All ofﬁcial matters touching
on a particular subject’s curriculum are dealt with directly by the panel head.
Headmasters work closely with panel heads rather than with individual subject
teachers.

Table 1 provides a selective list of responsibilities assumed by a panel head.
From looking at the panel head’s responsibilities, it is easy to infer the kind of close
working relationships that she needs to establish with and among members of her
panel, namely the teachers teaching the same subject. In other words, looking at the
role of the panel head gives insights into a collectivistic practice in schools.

The vision and leadership qualities of a panel head determines to a major
extent the establishment of a harmonious and cooperative culture among the panel
members as they collectively strive to achieve the panel’s objectives. Ministry of
Education guidelines emphasize that humility, perseverance, conﬁdence, empathy, and
open-mindedness are some qualities which would assist a panel head in carrying out
her responsibilities effectively. It follows that the success of subject panels also

depends on reciprocal actions from the members.

41

TABLE 1. Panel Head’s Roles and Responsibilities

  

PANEL HEAD’S
ROLES

 

==

RESPONSIBILITIES ASSOCIATED WITH ROLES

 

As Administrator

 

(a) Assists administration in distributing workload;

(b) supervises record-keeping (e.g., minutes, circulars,
correspondence); (c) conducts meetings, discussions;

((1) facilitates workshops; (e) liaise between administrators
and members; (t) liaise between outside parties and
members.

 

As Planner

(a) Plans activities with and for teachers; (b) plans student
activities and objectives with members; (c) plans strategies
with teachers to improve the quality of teaching and learning;
((1) plans additional and remedial classes.

 

As Resource
Manager

 

(a) Obtains resource materials, syllabi, textbooks,
workbooks, and reference books; (b) ensures funds are used
to enhance teacher professionalism and to maximize beneﬁts
to students.

 

 
   
  

As Coordinator
in Student
Evaluation

(a) Plans school-based exam schedules; (b) ensures proper
evaluation system; (c) coordinates test-building efforts (e.g.,
scope, format, marking schemes); ((1) establishes system of
record-keeping and reports; (e) facilitates results analysis;
(f) coordinates and maintains question bank.

 

As Mentor or
Guide

 

(a) Assists in matters like planning common schemes of work
and student activities; (b) counsels teachers on strategies to
improve teaching and learning; (c) helps resolve teaching and
learning problems; ((1) disseminates information;

(e) encourages staff development (e.g. , through courses
seminars, workshops, dialogue, exhibitions, discussions);

(0 encourages members to try new and creative ideas in
instruction; (g) motivates members.

 

 

 

42
r ' h r in ' Pr
In all elementary schools, co—curricular programs, an integral part of the
school curriculum, are conducted to supplement classroom teaching. Teachers are
assigned to work together in organizing and conducting these programs, usually
outside the classroom and during after-school hours. These programs fall into three
main categories, namely: (a) clubs and societies (e.g., English language Society); (b)
sports and games (e.g., athletics); and (c) uniformed groups (e. g., scouting). Pupils
are encouraged to participate in at least one activity from each category.
According to an ofﬁcial circular, the objectives of co-curricular programs and
activities are:
1. to develop psychomotor and affective skills as well as personality characteristics;
2. to develop leadership qualities, aesthetic values, discipline and tolerance;
3. to develop desirable values, such as team and sporting spirit, and social
consciousness;
4. to harmonize physical and spiritual development to ensure that pupils are
responsible and self reliant; and
5. to enhance esprit de corps among pupils of different ethnic backgrounds to
engender national consciousness and national identity.
The above, that is, subject panels and co-curricular programs, are two contexts
which make it incumbent upon teachers to work together for the common good of
students. All beginning teachers would automatically be absorbed into the panels.

Sometimes, beginning teachers may even be appointed or elected into positions of

43
responsibility (e. g., as secretary), depending on the needs and culture of the school.

In the case of co—curricular programs, teachers tend to be appointed selectively, but
all teachers would help manage at least one co-curricular program with colleagues.
In view of the above practices in schools, teachers’ colleges are geared toward

preparing student teachers to work with colleagues in collectivistic settings.

 

One major distinction between panels and co-curricular programs is that,
often, panels deal with curricular and instructional matters, and co—curricular
programs provide enrichment activities for students. Each subject panel would usually
have an afﬁliated co-curricular program. For example, the English language Society
is affiliated with the English panel, but its chief advisor could be a different person
from the panel head.

The ﬁrst type of teacher group, that is, the subject panel, has much to do with
the implementation of the nationally standardized curriculum. Further, there is a focus
on instruction and evaluation; I earlier shared information regarding the supervision of
testing and evaluation of students as a major component of the panel head’s work
(Fable 1). The second, that is, co-curricular programs, are geared toward the all-
round education of students.

At the teachers’ college, instruction is geared toward equipping student

teachers to ﬁt into the school system. In terms of curricular matters, student teachers
are given much exposure to the subject area syllabi as used in schools all over the

country. Further, in view of the examination-oriented system, student teachers are

44
also taught test—building skills. A selective look at the syllabus for TESL makes this

clearer. We focus on the current Semester IV component for TESL student teachers
all over the country (Kementerian Pendidikan Malaysia, 1993):

SEEM: By the end of this semester, the student teachers will be able to:

I. explain the basic concepts of testing and evaluation;

2. use various techniques to test grammar and the four language skills; and

3. interpret and use test results.

Armed with these test-building skills, beginning teachers are expected to be able to ﬁt
in and contribute to the functioning of panels, such as in efforts to maintain a question
bank, or build common tests.

If we move on to the co-curricular component, it becomes even clearer how
student teachers are being prepared to ﬁt into their roles of helping colleagues to
manage co-curricular programs. A recent circular from the Ministry of Education
stated that, in order to implement co-curricular activities and programs effectively at
the school level, the Teacher Education Division had made it compulsory for all
student teachers to participate in at least one activity from each of three categories: (a)
clubs and societies, (b) games and sports, and (c) uniformed groups. This was to
ensure that student teachers possessed the necessary knowledge and skills to organize
and manage co-curricular activities when they were posted to schools.

Thus, what is evident here is that teachers’ colleges are geared toward
ensuring that student teachers have common expertise or skills, in relation to both

curricular and co-curricular matters. By using a nationally standardized curriculum in

45

college, and by exposing teachers to the national education philosophy, they attempt
to ensure that there is a common starting point for all teachers before they enter
schools, speciﬁcally in terms of knowledge, expertise, and philosophical outlook. This
common starting point appears to provide one and all with the potential, if not the
promise, of similar teacher growth as they enter the profession.

This chapter featured as a review of four areas of research relevant to the
major research question of the study. I reviewed (a) beginning teacher studies, (b)
collegiality studies, (c) philosophical bases of collegial growth models, and (d) the
Malaysian collegial tradition. Collectively, these provide the backdrop to my research.

In the next chapter, I focus on methodological issues surrounding the study.

CHAPTER 3

NETHODOLOGY

I conducted this study on the perceptions of beginning teachers regarding the
contributions of collegiality to their growth at the beginning of the Malaysian 1995/96
school year. This involved ﬁve young women in their twenties, teaching in
elementary public schools in three different states in Malaysia. All ﬁve women were
graduates of teachers’ colleges, majoring in TESL. This chapter centers on the
research process of which they were an integral part.

I organize this chapter in the following way. First, I describe how I selected
the ﬁve participants: Jo, Viji, Ruby, Leela, and Devi. I also share the criteria used
for selection.

Second, I introduce the ﬁve participants, sharing details of their biographies as
learners before they graduated from college. The framework that I use for the
description of the teachers involves: (a) sharing information about what they were like
as learners in school, (b) explaining the circumstances leading to their choice of
career, (c) sharing information about them as learners in their preservice teacher
education programs, and ((1) sharing the images that they had of themselves as
teachers before starting work.

The third section of the chapter focuses on the context of the study. I describe

46

47

two types of contexts: (a) the broad national context, focusing on the centralized
system of educational administration, a structure that is organized at four hierarchical
levels, and (b) the speciﬁc contexts, namely the ﬁve elementary schools where the
teachers were placed. Together, the two types of contexts provide a useful backdrop
toward understanding a collegial culture that has long existed.

I start the fourth section of the chapter with an overview of the data collection
process. I then list the various types of data collection methods that I used, and the
rationale for each of them. In the process of doing so, I provide some information on
the different purposes and strengths of the data collection methods.

I conclude with a data analysis section. I provide an account of the issues that
I found compelling, and which feature as the foci of the study. Subsequently, I
explain how the data led me to identify these compelling issues, and to share them in
the most effective way that I knew how.

Selection of Participants

1 left my position as a TESL instructor in a Malaysian teachers’ college in the
fall of 1993. I returned to Malaysia at the beginning of the 1995/96 academic year to
conduct my study on beginning teachers’ perceptions of their colleagues, and how
those perceptions inﬂuenced their growth as teachers in the ﬁrst quarter of the
induction year. I aimed for a maximum of ﬁve beginning elementary TESL teachers
who would fulﬁll the following criteria:

1. an enthusiasm for participating in a research study;

2. a keen interest in their growth as teachers;

48

3. an ability to articulate clearly their concerns, frustrations, challenges, and
triumphs as teachers; and

4. an interest in reﬂecting on their professional experiences, and in doing this in
different ways (e.g., in journals; in dialogue).

I used the above criteria because of the belief that the attributes I had identiﬁed for
participants would have the potential to contribute to a strong study.

Through contact with TESL instructors at a Malaysian teachers’ college, I
received a list of twelve volunteers. Eleven were women, unsurprising since the
majority of elementary English school teachers in Malaysia are women. All were in
their ﬁnal semester of study (Semester V), and all were student teaching at the time. I
made available a notebook to these volunteers in May, 1995, where they left details
like their names, home and school addresses, phone numbers, and any comments or
questions that they felt like giving. Some did leave short messages to indicate their
interest in participating.

The new school year was due to start in early December, 1995. Although the
student teachers completed their student teaching in October, they were required to
spend the month of November at college for a one-month course to prepare them for
entry into schools. It was during this period that, through e-mail with my major
contact, I requested the volunteers to write a pre-entry journal reﬂection each. To
assist them, I provided some guidelines but did not impose them on the beginning
teachers.

The pre-entry journal had one major purpose: I had little knowledge of the

49

volunteers, and needed some information on which I could make a preliminary
judgement. I particularly sought teachers who were truly interested in participating in
a research study. Thus, the pre-entry journal reﬂections played an important role in
my decision-making. The journal entries of some that I selected provided valuable and
interesting insights into their biographies, their attitudes to teaching, their concerns,
and their hopes as they prepared to enter the profession. Besides the quality of these
early journal entries, the other inﬂuencing factor for selection was the strength of the
recommendations of their TESL instructors, based on my list of criteria. At the time,
I was inclined to select teachers only from one college. This changed when I later
included Leela, the younger sister of one of the participants.

In early December, 1995, I returned to Malaysia. My major contact at the
teachers’ college had by then collected the pre-entry journals as well as details of the
teachers’ permanent job placements. I studied the pro—entry journals, and made some
tentative choices. I aimed for a maximum of ﬁve teachers.

I chose four beginning teachers after contacting them to ﬁnd out whether they
were still keen to participate. These were Jo, Viji, Ruby, and Devi. It was purely by
chance that I included Leela, Devi’s younger sister. Leela was also beginning her
career as a TESL teacher, but had her preservice teacher education from a different
college. These ﬁve teachers had placements in three different states in Peninsular
Malaysia. (Malaysia is made up of Peninsular Malaysia and East Malaysia, the latter
situated in the huge island of Borneo.)

All ﬁve teachers stayed on the project till the end of the data collection period.

50

In Chapter 4, I talk about the professional journeys of all of them during their ﬁrst
three months. However, I also have special focus on two teachers, Jo and Viji. I
made these choices to enable me to achieve both breadth and depth in my sharing.

Following this, I introduce the participants.

Participants

The framework to describe the participants involves: (a) sharing information
about what each was like as a learner in school, (b) explaining the circumstances
leading to their choice of teaching as a career, (c) sharing information about them as
learners in their preservice teacher education programs, and (d) sharing images that
they had of themselves prior to starting their ﬁrst day at school. The information that
is presented here is important as I believe that what kinds of learners they were and
the nature of their past learning experiences could predispose them to react to new
colleagues in certain ways. Regarding the matter of images, I felt that the initial
images they had of themselves as teachers would also be illustrative of their
predispositions as they entered the profession as ﬁrst-year teachers.

The following narratives, each focusing on an individual, are primarily based
on the fast of six interviews with each of them across the ﬁrst quarter of the
academic year. I call these 'pre-entry" interviews because we had them before the
teachers actually made their entries into schools. These pro-entry interviews were

primarily autobiographical in nature.

51

J0 teaches at Xavier Primary School2 in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of
Malaysia. When Jo and the other volunteers ﬁrst signed up in summer, 1995, they
were told that they could write whatever they wanted in a notebook that I made
available, besides their names, addresses, and contact numbers. Jo included the
following statement in that notebook: "I’m very interested and I hope I will be given
a chance to learn with you and grow with you" (11 May, 1995).

I learned much about Jo as a learner during the pre-entry interview. As a
schoolgirl, her leadership qualities were consistently recognized. Her appointments as
school prefect (i.e., appointed student leader) at the primary, secondary, and Form 6
(i.e., pre-university) levels stand as evidence.

Jo failed in her attempt for a university education as her pre—university
academic performance was not up to the mark. A university education would have
ensured that she could teach at the secondary school level and also earn a higher
income. One of her current goals is to obtain admission to a university to further her
English studies. She would then return to teaching, a profession that she loves. Jo
attributed her interest in teaching to the inﬂuence of former teachers, among whom
were her mother and aunt.

At the teachers’ college where she enrolled for a preservice elementary teacher
education program, Jo stood out among her peers. Several of her TESL instructors

described her as a "strong" student teacher, and referred to her debating skills,

 

2Names of all schools have been changed throughout the text.

52

academic strengths, and enthusiasm in teaching.

Jo shared her unique learning experiences as the ﬁrst speaker for the college
debating team. She reﬂected on the importance and effectiveness of teamwork as her
team engaged in round after round of inter-college debates, under the coaching of
college TESL instructors. Their team created news when they emerged champions at
a zonal level of inter-college English debates.

Regarding her preservice ﬁeld experiences, Jo made a distinction between
things she learned at college and the realities of teaching--between theory and
practice. She remarked that although college taught her many things, the most
mundane--how to develop a weekly planner, for instance-appeared to be taken for
granted, creating initial confusion during her ﬁrst practicum (i.e., student teaching).
Having, in her own words, "the gift of the gab,” she approached teachers "boldly”
because expecting experienced teachers to approach her seemed outside the norm.

As she looked ahead to a long-awaited career, Jo’s image of herself as a
teacher was that of an actress, one with multiple roles to play. She quoted from
Shakespeare’s As Ygg Like It, "All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women
are players . . ." but clariﬁed that the actress metaphor included ”internalizing” the
roles, and not just "performing" them.

Viji teaches at Bamboo Grove Primary School, a small rural school in a west-
coast state. When signing up as a volunteer, Viji wrote, ”I’m very interested and I

know I’ll learn to grow through this experience" (11 May, 1995).

53

Recalling her experiences as a learner, Viji mentioned that she found
secondary schooling more difﬁcult than primary. In preparation for major national
examinations at the secondary school level, she studied with a close friend during
Form 3 (ninth grade) and Form 5 (eleventh grade). Her Form 5 performance earned
her a place in Form 6. She completed the ﬁrst half of this two—year pre—university
program. When she was in Upper Form 6, however, she left for the teachers’ college.

Parental inﬂuence played a major part in her career choice. Viji commented
ruefully that when she applied for the teachers’ college, she hoped for a rejection so
that she could complete her Form 6 education, and join the university if she made the
grade. Thus, when she received news of her acceptance into a teachers’ college, she
was torn between pleasing her parents and pleasing herself. Her father, a school
headmaster, spoke about the ”pros” of teaching. Finally, against her preference, she
joined the teachers’ college.

My interviews with Viji were characterized by a strong sense of her looking
back and looking forward. Looking back, Viji hoped that her decision to become an
elementary school teacher would turn out to be a ”blessing in disguise.” Looking
forward, Viji said that her goals would include taking the Form 6 national
examinations on her own, doing well, and earning a berth at a university for an
undergraduate English degree. She remarked that only by achieving this goal would
she be at peace with herself, and contented as a teacher.

During our ﬁrst interview, Viji took on the metaphor of a ”baby.” Viji

stressed that her preservice ﬁeld experiences did not amount to "real teaching." She

54

predicted that she would need to depend on others to tell her what to do, and what
was right or wrong. In part, it was because Viji had never taught in a small rural
school where the children were unlikely to use much English, the major subject that
she would teach. Further, being Indian, her cultural background would be markedly
different from that of her future pupils and colleagues in a predominantly Malay
district. Viji also reﬂected that she had never been a "class teacher" (i.e., homeroom
teacher) before, and college instructors did not teach her some basic things like
keeping a class register or ﬁlling in a regular teacher’s record book. Anticipating
these unfamiliar responsibilities and circumstances made her feel like a baby,
dependent on others for her growth.
My

Ruby teaches at Jalan Delima Primary School, an urban school in Kuala
Lumpur.

As a primary school pupil, Ruby was outstanding in academics and sports.
After Year 3, she joined Year 5 on account of her excellent academic performance.
Being younger than her classmates, she reﬂected that it resulted in initial social
adjustment. Like Jo, her leadership qualities were recognized; she was a school
prefect. Additionally, she was a state hockey player, and continued with the sport at
the secondary and tertiary levels.

At the secondary level, Ruby studied in a group of ﬁve close friends for the
Form 5 national examinations. The entire group passed with ﬂying colors. A full

scholarship provided Ruby with the opportunity to pursue an engineering course

55

abroad. Ruby was 17 years old when she left for Australia.

Collaborating with a group of close friends ceased to become a strategy for
learning while in Australia. Abroad, Ruby discovered the importance of doing things
by herself as she acclimatized herself to her new environment. Personal reasons
forced Ruby to return to Malaysia without completing her course. She had spent three
and a half years abroad.

Back in Malaysia, Ruby stayed home for a while, then went to work in Kuala
Lumpur. Subsequently, she left her job. She was supposed to return to Australia to
complete her studies eventually, but she never returned. Instead, family members
inﬂuenced her to become a teacher.

In the third semester of her preservice program, Ruby had her ﬁrst ﬁeld
experience. This was a turning point for her, the children becoming a motivating
force. I did not get a sense that she liked teaching yet, but she said that she cared
greatly about children.

Ruby reﬂected during our early conversations that a number of things that she
did in the past were incomplete. She viewed these as failures. With this background,
successes at college meant a great deal to her. She characterized her involvement with
the college debating team as a major success. Like Jo, she reﬂected on how closely
the teammates and coaches worked together.

As she looked ahead to starting her teaching career, Ruby resolved that things
would be different from her past failures in life. She commented that ”in chasing the

impossible," she might "lose sight of the possible." And she resolved not to do that

56

anymore.

The image that Ruby used for herself as a beginning teacher was an
incomplete drawing in hues of black and white. Ultimately, she hoped to add more
colors to it.

m

Leela teaches at Grand River (Tamil) Primary School, a semi-urban school
located in a state along the west coast.

In primary school, Leela stayed in the shadow of her older sister, Devi, a co-
participant in this study. Leela shared stories of her shyness and her dependence on
her sister in the school that they both attended. In secondary school, she remembered
not having close friends during the ﬁrst two years. Her friends were actually her
sister’s friends. In Form 3, things changed a little. The dependence on Devi, the older
sister, gradually ceased in Forms 4 and 5. She formed her own friends then, and was
better adjusted than when she was in the lower forms. She went to Form 6 in a
different school from her sister’s. Having boys as classmates was a "culture shock” to
her.

After Form 6, Leela’s uncle inﬂuenced her to enter teaching. She put in her
application, and, while waiting, took up the position of a temporary teacher. When
she was teaching temporarily, Leela resolved ”never, never, never" to become a
teacher because she had a difﬁcult time with classroom management and instruction.
But her application to enter teaching, which had been submitted m she took up

the temporary teaching post, was successful. She decided to ”give it a try” after much

57

thought, and having failed to secure admission to a university for further academic
studies.

Leela was sent to a teachers’ college on the east coast, far from the college
that her sister attended on the west coast. Both, however, were in the ﬁeld of TESL.
Leela spoke about much communication between her and her sister especially during
common semester breaks which both would spend in Kuala Lumpur with their parents
and siblings. There was sharing and comparison of experiences that they underwent at
the two different colleges. Leela reported that although they were essentially in the
same preservice program, based on common syllabi, their learning experiences
differed in some areas.

In her preservice experiences, Leela’s cooperating teachers welcomed her
when she asked to observe their teaching. Further, she had her two practica in the
same school, thus contributing to her feelings of ”being at home” during student
teaching. This was a national school where Malay was used as the sole medium of
instruction, and English was taught as the country’s second most important language.
She had never had any experience teaching in a Tamil school where Tamil, the
standard Indian language, would be used as the medium of instruction, Malay would
be taught as the national language, and English would be relegated to the position of
third but compulsory language. Thus, having received a permanent placement in a
Tamil primary school, Leela expressed anxiety about her position as an English
teacher. Part of her anxiety arose from the fact that though she spoke Tamil, she

could hardly read or write in that language. This could be a disadvantage to her in

58

dealing with an Indian school population.

The question about what image she had of herself as she was about to start
teaching surprised her, never having been posed such a question. Leela responded that
she was teaching and learning at the same time. "So I’m a learner” sums up her
image of herself.

Deli

Devi, Leela’s older sister by one year, teaches at Driesen Road Primary
School, a ﬁve-minute walk from her parents’ home in Kuala Lumpur where she lived.

Devi was a prefect in primary school. She described herself as an ”obedient”
student at the primary level.

At the age of twelve, she observed how her aunts were "married off”
according to traditional match-making practices. This implies that her aunts married
men that family elders chose for them. She observed the procedures used such as
ensuring that important dates like birth dates were compatible according to traditional
charts. In addition, she observed how the aunts communicated with the suitors (who
would normally come to the home to be acquainted), and how they judged their
character during those chaperoned meetings. Devi said that her observations left an
impact on her as they equipped her with knowledge about how to judge the character
of people she came into contact with.

Devi was also a school prefect in secondary school. Up to the secondary
school level, she had only good things to say about her teachers. Her primary and

secondary schools were solely for girls. At the pre-university or Form 6 level, she

59

went to a boys’ school (i.e., up to Form 5 , only boys were allowed there.) Her new
classmates were predominantly of a different race. For the ﬁrst time, she started
disliking teachers who appeared not to treat everyone according to their needs. While
in Form 6, she resolved to be a teacher who would treat all pupils equally, according
to their different needs, and regardless of race or socio—economic status.

Devi did not do well in Form 6, and reentered a private school, this time
switching from the science stream to the arts stream. She did better and entered the
teachers’ college after having had seven months’ experience as a temporary teacher.
She felt that teaching would be good for her because it was a job where she could be
of service to people. She felt that she made a good career choice.

As she talked about life as a student teacher, she attributed her success
primarily to her experiences as a temporary teacher. One of her cooperating teachers,

apparently, was interested in learning m her. She felt she did not learn much from
11 im, and none of her three cooperating teachers, across two practica, were
Comfortable with the idea of letting her observe their teaching. She did not observe
any of them as a result.

Devi had two images of herself as a beginning teacher: as a knowledgeable

Person to her students, and as a child who was still learning about teaching.
Context
I start with the Malaysian national education system as the broad context, and
then move to the speciﬁc contexts of the participants’ schools. The two contexts are

linked hierarchically in that all school policies are decided by the Ministry of

60

Education at the national level. The primary purpose of providing details about the
m education context is to highlight and illustrate the fact that organizations at
the national level perpetuate a tradition of collaboration at the grassroots level. The
main purpose of elaborating on the m contexts of the participants’ schools is to
share certain commonalities and differences in terms of their physical settings and

administrative set-ups. Descriptions of these two features provide a better "feel" of

the workplace environments of the beginning teachers.

Tha Natignal Cantest

Malaysia has a centralized system of educational administration, the structure
being organized at four hierarchical levels, namely national, state, district, and
school. Major national-level organizations include: (a) Educational Planning and
Research Division, (b) Curriculum Development Center, (c) Examinations Syndicate,
((1) Teacher Education Division, (e) Schools Division, (f) Federal Inspectorate of
Schools, and (g) Textbooks Bureau. These organizations are interconnected.
Collectively, they contribute to a system of education that perpetuates a tradition of

Collaboration at the grassroots level, that is, among teachers. A description of the
interconnections would make this claim clearer.

The Edugatipn Planaing aad Rsssagsh Diyisign (EPRD) investigates major
education issues facing the country, and proposes change based largely on research
findings. These proposals are then considered by the urri l m Dev 1 m n
(C DC) that revises or revamps the curricula. Curricular changes and guidelines are

Passed on to schools, and implemented by teachers. The MSW (BS)

61
is closely related to the CDC. It is responsible for building and grading national

examinations, and it closely observes the CDC’s curricular reforms. The link between
the two organizations, the ES and the CDC, ensures that students are fairly tested in

the national examinations. Test builders and teachers use identical syllabi prepared by
the CDC. The syllabi changes and guidelines, together with up-to-date information on
national examinations, are passed on to teachers via the State Education Departments.

The Taacher Edagagign Divisign selects and assigns preservice teachers to the

country’s 31 teachers’ colleges. When these preservice teachers are ready to take their
positions as full-ﬂedged teachers, the Scho_le Divisign decides on their placements,
depending on manpower needs in the country. Once they are assigned their
placements, they come under the State Education Departments. Occasionally, the

Fedem Iasmtgrate of Schmls, an organization that helps maintain standards, sends

ofﬁcers to observe, evaluate, and counsel teachers at work.

In terms of textbooks, schools select from lists approved by the Tabeggks
£91m. Teachers for each grade level within a school have to agree on particular
Choices because the texts they have collectively identiﬁed would have to remain in use
for a certain number of years. Textbooks follow existing syllabi. Thus, whenever the

CDC mandates curriculum changes, textbook companies respond with updated
ed itions.

The high level of interconnectedness of the education system contributes to the
perpetuation of a tradition of collaboration among teachers: Teachers collectively

rt'lake decisions regarding choice of textbooks; design common schemes of work for

62

the various grades based on the mandated syllabi; discuss curricular changes;
exchange information and views with regard to instructional issues; and coordinate
tests and trial examinations for each grade in line with stipulations from the
Examinations Syndicate. Such collaboration has historical roots. The practice of
working together to realize common education goals for the beneﬁt of students is
often taken for granted.

Further, schools are subject to Ministry of Education gagngaQQns (e.g., subject
panels for teachers, and compulsory co-curricular activities for students, run by
teachers). Schools support ministry rmmmendatigns (e.g., "Caring Society"
campaigns, English language campaigns, and "Environmental Awareness"
campaigns). These result in structural supports which promote collegiality. Some of
the structural supports for collegiality common in schools are: (a) subject panels, (b)
societies/clubs/uniformed groups in which teachers work with colleagues as they
assume advisory roles, and (c) other committees (e.g., Parent-Teacher Association,
Resource Center Committee, and Teachers’ Common Room Committee).

Teachers assume roles and responsibilities in a variety of ways. Some are
assigned and some are voluntary; some are elected and some are rotated. The
different ways in which roles and responsibilities are assumed often reﬂect the nature

0f the school administration and the social environment in the respective schools.

We now turn to the speciﬁc research contexts.

63
Th iﬁ n

The participants’ schools share some features. First, all are primary public
schools where English is taught as a compulsory second or third language. Next, a
hierarchical structure exists in all the schools: There is the administration, and there is
the regular teaching staff. The Hgdmaster heads the hierarchy. If the school is a
single-session school, then next in line would normally be SeniQr Assistant 1,
followed by Senior Assisgnt 2. Schools which are broken into two sessions have an
extra senior position, that of Afternmn Sapervisgr. This position is important from
the perspective of afternoon teachers since the latter have more contact with the
afternoon supervisor than with the headmaster.

The W’s position may be through appointment by the
administration, or through an election which disregards seniority or expertise. Thus,
the position of subject panel head may or may not differentiate teachers according to
experience and expertise.

We now shift our focus to the speciﬁc contexts of the participants’ schools. I
talk about these speciﬁc contexts in terms of two primary features: the physical
setting, and the administrative set-up. Table 2 provides some basic information: (a)
names of participants, (b) names of schools, (c) rural/urban locations, ((1) staff sizes,
and (e) brief descriptions of the teachers’ common rooms.

Xavier Primag Sshggl
Setting, Jo’s school, Xavier Primary, is located in Kuala Lumpur. When I

visited the former Christian missionary school, the feel of its urban setting was

TABLE 2. Specific Contexts of Participants’ Schools

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NAME OF SCHOOL LOCATION STAFF COMMON
TEACHER (Rural/Urban) SIZE ROOM
Jo Xavier Primary Kuala Lumpur about 50 Smaller than
School (Urban) regular classroom;
big rectangular
tables, some
joined together.
Viji Bamboo Grove west-coast state about 15 Half the size of a
Primary School (Rural) classroom; one
big rectangular
table with seats
around.
Ruby Jalan Delima Kuala Lumpur about 114 Main room: size
Primary School (Urban) in two of 2-3 classrooms;
sessions 19 individual
desks; some desks
joined together;
rectangular tables
at ends. Smaller
room available.
Leela Grand River west-coast state about 40 Half the size of a
(Tamil) (Semi-urban) in two regular classroom;
Primary School sessions U-shaped
structure with
seats all around.
Devi Driesen Road Kuala Lumpur about 26 No on-site
Primary School (Urban) information

 

 

 

 

obtained.

 

 

65

inescapable. Looking out from the main entrance, one sees concrete buildings. One of
the structures is the Kuala Lumpur Tower that soars into the sky, a major landmark.
From the back entrance to the school, one sees busy trafﬁc and business centers.

It was pleasantly surprising that this school recently won the ﬁrst prize in an
environmental awareness competition. The plaque stands proudly in the main ofﬁce,
amidst a number of other school awards. Two pretty rock gardens in the school
compound also caught my eye.

Xavier Primary School is considered fairly large, with a teaching staff of
around ﬁfty. The building is occupied by two schools, one in the morning and the
other in the afternoon. Other than shared premises, the two schools are independent
of each other.

One ﬁnds teachers in numbers in the teachers’ common room, the teachers’
Resource Center, and the lunchroom. The teachers’ common room is smaller than the
size of a regular classroom. A number of big rectangular tables, some joined together,
greet the eye. Teachers sit around these tables with piles of students’ exercise books
in front of them, and posters around them on the walls.

The teachers’ Resource Center has a long rectangular table, and teachers come
and go, or stay during their free periods. Different types of instructional aids are
available for classroom instruction.

The teachers’ lunchroom is next to the cafeteria where a wide range of local
food is sold. The room is long and narrow, and a row of long tables stretch the entire

length of the room.

66
W The headmaster is assisted by two senior teachers

in the running of the school. These are Senior Assistant 1 and Senior Assistant 2.
Their roles range from helping the headmaster carry out directives from the State
Education Department to managing and resolving student, teacher, and curricular
affairs. Hierarchically, the three positions are ofﬁcial recognitions of leadership
qualities.

A number of important positions exist below the above-stated ones. One such
position is that of subject panel head. In the context of the study, the English language
panel head plays a major role in the lives of the beginning English teachers. The
English language panel head plays the roles of: (a) administrator, (b) planner, (c)
resource manager, ((1) coordinator in student evaluation, and (e) mentor and guide. A
detailed account of these roles and accompanying responsibilities appears in Table 1.

The English language panel head represents the English teachers. The
headmaster works closely with the panel head rather than with individuals within the
same subject area. Teachers become members of as many panels as the subjects that
they teach.

Within the school structure are many societies, clubs, and uniformed groups
for students, in line with the Ministry of Education’s emphasis on an all-round
education for all. At Xavier Primary School, two teachers were assigned by the
administration to take charge of the English Language Society, Jo being one of them.
Advisors conducted regular meetings with student members, planned enrichment

activities, and carried them out.

67

While the major administrative positions of Headmaster, Senior Assistant I,
and Senior Assistant 2 were usually appointments by the State Education Department,
the others were internal. Some featured as appointments such as the positions of panel
head and advisors of the English Language Society. Some were by election such as
Jo’s position as Secretary of the English panel.

MW

Setting, The scenery, as one approaches Bamboo Grove Primary School, is
beautiful. The school is situated amidst a lot of greenery. The school itself is up a
slope, and the outside looks pleasant. To the right, a well-maintained rock garden
immediately catches one’s attention. There are cute, pretty shelters from sun and rain
near the rock garden.

A huge attractive mural occupies the most visible wall of the school as one
drives up the slope. The car park is spacious. Directly facing the school entrance is a
spacious, roofed lunch area for students.

The headmaster’s ofﬁce is upstairs in the block closest to the car park, on the
right. It is neat, and the National Education Philosophy hangs on the wall behind the
headmaster’s desk. Pretty curtains shade the room from direct sunlight.

Pretty curtains also characterize the teachers’ common room in Viji’s school.
The common room is small, about half the size of a classroom. There is a big
rectangular table in the middle of the room, with seats around it for its teaching staff

of about ﬁfteen, a number that ﬂuctuated a little.

68
W Bamboo Grove Primary School is a one-session

(i.e., morning) school under the management of the headmaster. He is assisted by
Senior Assistant 1 and Senior Assistant 2, the former being in charge of curricular
matters and the latter being directly in charge of student affairs.

The make-up of subject panels differs a little in this school. According to
Viji’s understanding, each subject panel should have at least four members. But since
the entire teaching staff was only ﬁfteen at its maximum, it implied that certain panels
would be short of members. Thus, panel members could be teachers m1 teaching the
subject. The panel head’s post was by election. Viji was elected head of the art panel,
but later did not teach art. She continued holding the position of art panel head. Viji
was also elected the secretary of the English panel.

The positions of advisors to societies, clubs, and uniformed groups were
assigned by the administration. Viji was appointed sole advisor of the English
Language Society.

From my conversations with teachers, it appeared that directives were often
passed down from the top, with only limited negotiation possible. For example,
teachers could have their names submitted for inservice courses without ﬁrst seeking
their inclinations. Two of Viji’s colleagues commented that few of the meetings
conducted by the headmaster were interactive in nature.

Delim ° h I

Mg, Jalan Delima Primary School, Ruby’s workplace, is an urban school.

It is very big, and located sufﬁciently far from the main road to escape the noise

69

created by numerous buses, taxis, cars and motorcycles that ply that route. As one
approaches the front entrance, a big sign indicates the name of the school. Two
parallel double-story blocks greet the visitor initially, one of which houses the main
teacher’s common room on the ground ﬂoor, and the ofﬁce above it. Toward the far
end of these twin blocks of buildings are the teachers’ lunch room, the cafeteria, and
a three-story block housing classrooms as well as a smaller teachers’ common room
on the top ﬂoor. A couple of pretty murals grace the walls of the school.

The two teachers’ common rooms deserve special mention in view of
contrasts. The main teachers’ common room is the largest that I have ever seen, the
size of two to three classrooms. Many individual desks are placed apart. I counted
nineteen individual desks, each extremely spacious for one person, and could be used
by two teachers. Some desks had two seats either arranged side by side, or opposite
each other. In a few cases, two of the individual desks were joined. At each of the
two extreme ends of the common room, there were tables joined into a long
rectangle. I estimated that at least ten teachers could sit comfortably around them.
Thus, the physical arrangement of the larger teachers’ common room indicated that
people could remain seated by themselves, in pairs, or in groups of varying sizes.

The physical arrangement of the main teachers’ common room struck me as
very different from the common rooms in other participants’ schools. In Viji’s school,
there was one big rectangular table and teachers sat around it. In Jo’s, there were a
few big rectangular tables around which teachers sat. In neither of these schools (and

others that I visited) were there individual desks for individual teachers. Both the

70

common rooms in Viji’s school and Jo’s had but one door. At Jalan Delima School,
the common room was so big that it had fgu_r doors all along one side of the room,
and a whole stretch of windows with traditional window panes along the other. This
teachers’ common room is shared by both the morning and afternoon teachers. Thus,
mid-day is the time for greater mingling of teachers as one group prepares to go, and
the second comes in to start their day’s work.

The smaller teachers’ common room, situated on the top ﬂoor of the three-
story building mentioned earlier, is a dramatic contrast to the larger. It is located
furthest from the main entrance to the school and parking facilities. It is only big
enough for a large table such that, at any one time, only about ten people could sit
comfortably around it. The size and physical arrangement of this common room
appeared to promote greater mingling.

AW Jalan Delima Primary School had one
administration, but two sessions. The headmaster was responsible for the smooth
running of mm morning and afternoon sessions. Years 1 through 3 were in the
afternoon, and Years 4 through 6 in the morning. Collectively, the school had about
114 teachers compared to about 50 at Xavier Primary School and 15 at Bamboo
Grove Primary School.

The principal ﬁgure in the afternoon session was the W.
While she probably made a lot of decisions on her own, such decisions were normally
in line with the policies of the headmaster. The afternoon supervisor was assisted by

colleagues.

71

Morning and afternoon teachers collectively belonged to subject panels. Thus,
panel meetings involved both morning and afternoon teachers. This marked a great
difference in the degree of communication between panel head and panel members
who did not teach in the same session. Ruby, for instance, had limited communication
with the English panel head as the latter taught in the morning session. The English
panel head’s role in Ruby’s school is identical to that elsewhere since this is deﬁned
by the Ministry of Education.

The position of ”advisor” of the English language Society is a different
position from panel head. Panel heads are usually concerned with instructional and
curricular affairs; society advisors are concerned with co-curricular activities such as
debates, drama, and story-telling.

At Jalan Delima Primary School, a lot of roles and responsibilities connected
with the societies, clubs, and uniformed groups were assigned by the administration. I
learned that teachers accepted whatever assignments they were given, and these
assignments might or might not be their specializations and preferences.

Riv r T ’ Prim l

Segiag, Leela’s school, Grand River (Tamil) Primary, is located in a west
coast state. The single-race school population was obvious to me the moment I
stepped into the school compound. It was a coeducational school, and I saw only
Indian children in the school that uses Tamil, the standard Indian language, as the
primary medium of instruction. The school population was about 1000. Taking into

consideration its status as a Tamil school, the teaching staff was fairly big, comprising

72

about forty teachers. About twenty including Leela taught in the afternoon session.

Blocks of classrooms enclosed a large central square where some pets were
kept in a fenced-up area, and where a rock garden presented a pleasing sight.

One would expect to ﬁnd teachers in numbers in the teachers’ common room.
It had a U-shaped structure made up of several tables joined together. Teachers sat
around this structure, and at mid—day when I visited the common room, there was
much mingling and noise as the morning session teachers prepared to leave.

The afternoon supervisor had a spacious open room, and in the course of my
interview with her, several children came for attention. The openness of the room was
a striking feature. Adjoining the afternoon supervisor’s room was a smaller room used
by the senior assistant in charge of student affairs.

The teachers’ lunchroom was a place where teachers also mingled. I was
brought to the lunchroom for refreshments by both the afternoon supervisor and the
senior assistant where a casual conversation took place after my individual interviews
with them.

W Grand River Primary School’s headmaster was
directly in charge of the morning session. The afternoon supervisor appeared to be
responsible for the running of the afternoon session school. According to the
afternoon supervisor, it was important for her to fully comprehend the policies of the
headmaster as the same policies were endorsed for the session that she was
responsible for.

An important person in the context of the study is the English panel head. He

73

taught in the morning session but seemed well-acquainted with Leela even though the
latter was teaching in the afternoon session. Leela mentioned contact with the panel
head on account of her being selected as the panel secretary, a position for which she
had, apparently, been singled out by the headmaster himself. In addition to the same
panel head responsibilities mentioned earlier in my account of the administrative set-
up in Jo’s school (Xavier Primary), the English panel head mentioned that they had a
”question bank" for storing questions that could be used to assess students’ English
literacy skills. Leela and all other English teachers contributed to the question bank.

The position of English language Society advisor was assigned. Leela found
herself assuming the role with one other colleague as co-advisor. Further, Leela
assumed the position of secretary of the music and art panels as well. A teachers’
Resource Center also assisted teachers in their instruction, its location being in the
school library. Leela found herself holding the position of Resource Center teacher,
assisting a more experienced teacher.
Driggn Rags! Primm SQool

S_e_tﬁ_n& Devi’s school, Driesen Road Primary, is located in Kuala Lumpur. It
was the only one of the ﬁve schools that I did not ofﬁcially visit. I explain the
circumstances contributing to my decision not to visit the school in a later part of this
chapter. However, her school was the ﬁrst one that I visited from the outside, out of
curiosity, when I ﬁrst started the study. According to Devi’s description, it was

formerly started and managed by a religious society.

74
W The administrative structure seemed similar to the

other schools. It had a headmistress who was assisted by Senior Assistant 1 and
Senior Assistant 2 in the running of the school. These, like in the other schools, were
hierarchical positions recognizing leadership.

A number of important positions existed below the above-stated ones such as
the subject panel heads. Like in the other schools, within the school structure were
many societies, clubs, and uniformed groups for students, in line with the Ministry of
Education’s emphasis on an all-round education for pupils.

For almost the entire duration of the study, Devi was not a member of any
panel as she was not given any teaching assignments. There was some uncertainty as
to whether she would remain in the school as the school had enough English teachers.
Eventually, toward the round-table conference, she was given her teaching schedule,
but English literacy instruction, for which she had been prepared at the teachers’
college, was not included. Not being a panel member for any subject, Devi shared
little about the workings of panels. Devi mentioned spending a lot of time at the
teachers’ Resource Center in school where she had been given some responsibilities.
Other than that, she was relatively uninvolved during the early months of her career.

Data Collection
v rvi w
I collected data from the ﬁve participants through the following data sources:
(a) structured "pre-entry" interviews, (b) structured "entry" interviews, (c) semi-

structured interviews at intervals, (d) ”pre-entry" journal, (e) logs, (0 weekly

75

journals, (g) artifacts, (h) round-table conference, and (i) exit questionnaire. I also
collected site-speciﬁc data through: (a) observations of physical settings, (b)
interviews with administrators, and (c) interviews with participants’ colleagues.

Collectively, the data sources fall into seven categories: (a) interviews, (b)
logs, (c) journals, (d) observations, (e) round-table conference, (0 artifacts, and (g)
exit questionnaire. I discuss each category in turn, illustrating its features as well as
the purposes served.

In rvi ws

I conducted structured, semi-structured, and unstructured interviews in the
course of the study. I describe and share my rationale for each type of interview.
WES

There were two structured interviews--pre-ant_ry and ﬂay-for each beginning
teacher. I had an interview protocol for each. I took the issues in order unless, in the
course of the interviews, some issues emerged naturally and were discussed earlier.
The purpose of structured interviews for pre-entry and entry was that there was
common information that I sought from each of the participants.

The pra-enmr interview was an autobiographical interview. I sought data about
participants’ experiences as learners during their schooldays, prior work experiences,
and experiences at the teachers’ college. I also unobtrusively sought information about
their collaborative experiences as learners in the past. The reason for doing so is that
pleasant and effective past collaborative experiences may help us to understand them

better, that is, they may be predisposed to collaborate with others in their schools.

76

The satay interview aimed at obtaining information about the perceptions of
teachers regarding their ﬁrst few days at school. Questions included their observations
of activities in the teachers’ common room, the nature of their early interactions with
other adults, their early impressions and expectations of colleagues, their views about
their workplace environments, and their goals as beginning teachers.

' tru In ervi w
I used semi-structured interviews with (a) the participants, (b) the school
administrators, and (c) two other beginning TESL teachers who were colleagues.
ﬁmiﬂgsctmd intarvigws with pagtig’pants, I had three semi-structured
interviews with each of the participants. These started about two weeks after the entry
interviews, and continued at intervals of two to three weeks. These interviews were
semi-structured in the sense that there was a set of core issues that I would pursue
with all. These issues arose after reﬂecting collectively on the previous round of
interviews with the participants. However, unlike the structured interviews, the issues
and questions were not raised in a particular sequence. They served more as an
interview guide to ensure that all the issues were covered during the interview.

Further, these interviews depended to a large extent on the content of
individual participants’ logs. I read the logs before beginning the interviews. The
beginning teachers would then be invited to do some of the following: (a) clarify
certain log entries which were unclear to me; (b) select a couple of major events, and

discuss those in depth; (c) explain why they picked those collegial interactions to

share, and what they learned from them; (d) discuss the emerging pattern of collegial

77

interactions week by week; and (e) discuss other teacher-initiated topics.

These semi-structured interviews permitted greater ﬂexibility and spontaneity
than the structured interviews, both in terms of questioning and responding. They
allowed me to be highly responsive to individual differences and situational changes.
Individualized questioning helped establish closer communication with the beginning
teachers.

mtﬁtmgtured interviews with schaol aging ratgzrs2 In three schools,
the administrators received me well. I requested interviews with them so as to obtain
information to help me verify or clarify information given by the beginning teachers.
Interviews in these three schools took place almost immediately. In the fourth, Ruby’s
school, the afternoon supervisor consented to an interview, but the heavier sense of
formality in her building prompted me not to request audiotaping. Nevertheless, it
was a pleasant interview. I did not visit Devi’s school primarily because Devi did not
have any teaching assignments, and an inevitable question that I would have raised
with her administrator(s) would be why this was so. I felt that such a question,
regardless of how carefully I framed it, would have been interpreted as a check on the
administration, or as criticism, or as both.

Interviews with school administrators were semi-structured in that I had
written out a list of questions, but I did not plan on asking them in a particular
sequence, or that I would ask all the questions. I had, in other words, an interview

guide. Much depended on the time that they could afford and on their willingness to

talk with me.

 

78
Semiﬁmﬁured intarviaws with two other Iggm' m g TEL tgaghars. Two

participants, Jo and Viji, mentioned that their colleagues included another beginning
TESL teacher. They had become good friends: Jo with Rena, and Viji with Rani.
They shared a lot together. Jo and Viji had approached Rena and Rani respectively;
Rena and Rani agreed to talk with me. I requested these interviews to enrich, verify,
and clarify the information provided by Jo and Viji. In entering into these interviews,
I had a set of issues as an interview guide, common to both beginning TESL teachers.
However, these were only guides; my interviews went with the ﬂow of our
conversations. In this sense, my interviews were "semi-structured. " Information from
these interviews proved useful for purposes of triangulation of data.
m

I mentally prepared myself for possible interactions with participants’
colleagues, focusing on ways in which I could indirectly obtain veriﬁcation (or
otherwise) about what I had learned from my participants regarding their workplace
environments. The nature of my questioning primarily depended on my ﬁrst
impressions of their personalities and dispositions. Collectively, I used three
languages--Malay, English, and a Chinese dialect-in these unstructured interviews,
depending on the language that they were comfortable with.

I talked with the following categories of colleagues during my visits to the four
schools (Devi’s being excluded): (a) English Language Panel head at two schools, (b)
English language Society advisor at two schools, (c) Discipline Teacher or Student

Affairs Ofﬁcer at all four schools, ((1) experienced teachers at all four schools,

79

(e) cooperating teacher (to student teachers) at one school, (f) student teachers at two
schools, (g) other beginning teachers at three schools, and (h) a temporary teacher.
These interviews depended on my participants’ abilities to get the cooperation of their
colleagues, as well as on chance when I was in the teachers’ common rooms. The
number of unstructured interviews or interactions collectively totalled at least twenty
in the four schools.

Qgs

Participants used formatted log forms. These log forms asked for brief and
speciﬁc entries regarding their interactions with colleagues. The forms asked for the
following details: (a) date of log entry, (b) person the beginning teacher interacted
with, (0) person who initiated the interaction, ((1) time and duration, (e) place, and (f)
focus or topic. Teachers were asked to ﬁll in daily logs. The formatted form that I
used was based on a similar method used by the National Center for Research on
Teacher Learning.

The primary purpose of using these log forms was that when we had our
interviews, teachers could use them as reminders about particular events that they
wanted to talk about. They were also useful for me to see if there was a pattern in the
teachers’ interactions with others. For example, the log forms in the cases of both Jo
and Viji illustrated the closeness of the teachers to Rena and Rani (fellow beginning
English teachers), respectively.

One of the teachers, Viji, used the log forms almost like formatted forms for

journal entries. She was embarrassed at ﬁrst, but realizing that I was happy to receive

80

more information than less, continued to write very lengthy reﬂections on the log
forms themselves. She also kept a journal for deeper reﬂections. The other teachers
varied in the degree of detail in the log forms.

tom

Teachers’ journals served some major purposes. First, unlike interviews,
where they spoke off the cuff, journal writing provided them with time to reﬂect
more deeply, and be more focused. Second, teacher journals provided artifacts that
supplemented and complemented interview data. This was helpful for data analysis as
triangulation of data from multiple sources would increase the credibility of my
assertions. Third, journals provided me with a base for questioning. The interviews
were more grounded as a result of help from journals. Finally, journals are somewhat
more "symmetrical" in terms of power issues. Beginning teachers had control over
issues that they wanted to discuss. They had the opportunities to discuss things freely
from their perspectives, in their very own language, and without interference.

The participants wrote: (a) one pre-entry journal, (b) weekly journals through
the duration of the study, and (c) one exit journal.

The minty journal was based on certain prompts. The teachers were free to
respond to any, all, or none of them. All potential participants were requested to
write this initial reﬂection. Their reﬂections provided insights into their personalities
as well as their anticipations of life as beginning teachers. Further, the quality of
these reﬂections assisted me in determining the pool of participants.

The weakly journal was based on a major event during a particular week.

81

Teachers were not conﬁned to one reﬂection, but, taking into account their busy
schedules, it was set as one a week, if they could manage it. These reﬂections
provided insights into the teachers’ professional lives. They were particularly helpful
in helping me to frame subsequent interview questions.

The slit journal was based on some oral prompts given during the ﬁfth round
of interviews. Participants were asked to write about their feelings as the study was
drawing to a close, and the nature of their experience in having taken part in the
study. They were also asked to write about what they had learned through their
involvement.

W

During my school visits, the places that I wanted to visit most were the
teachers’ common rooms. This was important because it was the place where teachers
went during the periods when they were not teaching. The size of the common rooms,
how the furniture was arranged, what was written on the chalkboard, and other
features within them, gave some indication of how teachers might have interacted in
that environment. For instance, in Viji’s school, there was a small common room
with one big rectangular table. This encouraged interaction. In Ruby’s school, there
were many individual desks, suggesting that some teachers worked on their own.

I recorded details about the arrangement of the common rooms, and some
teachers also provided sketches. I also noted what was written on the chalkboards,
and whether the common rooms felt comfortable. The attention I paid to the common

rooms is primarily because these rooms are a powerful physical supports for collegial

82

interactions.
R -T le nferen

Mid-way into the study, I started making plans for a round-table conference
for the ﬁve beginning teachers. This eventually took place in Kuala Lumpur as the
study approached closure. The round-table conference was the highlight of the study
for the beginning teachers, based on the feedback that they gave me.

The round-table conference took place for multiple purposes: (a) to provide an
interesting educational and collegial experience for the teachers, allowing them to
share their experiences as beginning teachers in a way that I ethically could not in
view of conﬁdentiality issues; (b) to allow easy and immediate interlinking of
perceptions and experiences as participants responded to the same questions or issues;
(c) to discuss important issues which I might have inadvertently omitted in interviews
with one or more participants; ((1) to be a variation to the many individual interviews,
thus enriching the study methodologically; and (e) to provide a unique closure to data
collection.

The round-table conference, which was videotaped, provided a helpful data set
for Chapter 4, entitled ”Beginning Teacher Journeys.” Interlinking of perceptions was
immediate, making obvious the commonalities and contrasts among the teachers. The
teachers, in my view, were themselves; they were eager to share as well as to listen,
and they were sensitive to Leela, Devi’s sister, who was new to the group. Whenever
Leela spoke, they were very attentive, thus suggesting that even strangers could share

if they possessed similar visions and values regarding collegiality.

83
am

From the beginning of the study, participants were asked to keep copies of all
relevant documents received at school. These included minutes of meetings, ofﬁcial
circulars, and information on the nature of their work with regard to multiple
positions (e.g., as advisors to societies/clubs/uniformed groups; as head or secretary
of a subject panel). These artifacts were meant to provide additional information on
the roles and responsibilities that the beginning teachers had to handle, as well as
contextual information. They supplemented and complemented information obtained
from conversations with school administrators, the beginning teachers, and their
colleagues.

Exi i nn '

The six-item exit questionnaire sought written feedback on the research
instrument. The beginning teachers shared their perceptions of the relative
effectiveness of the data collection methods that I used for the study. For each type of
data collection method that I used, they wrote about the nature of their experiences,
and also responded to the question of its continued use in future studies of a similar
kind.

Data Analysis

My data analysis drew on interpretive methods within qualitative research
traditions, involving analyses that were ongoing as well as those that continued
following data collection, and analyses that occurred at multiple levels. In this section,

I describe my analysis methods in terms of four categories: (a) the nature of the

84

analyses, (b) the levels of the analyses, (c) strategies used in data analyses, and (d)
phases of analyses. I describe each category in turn, and explain its contribution to
the writing up of the dissertation.

Nat_u_rg 9f Anﬂyses

Data analysis was (a) ongoing, and (b) formal and focused. Data analysis was
ongoing throughout the data collection period. I present an example of ongoing
analysis that happened at the start of the study. The study started with one round of
structured pre-entry autobiographical interviews. These were individual interviews
occurring at the participants’ homes before they started work. Ongoing analysis was
relatively uncomplicated for this set of ﬁve interviews as the major categories together
with sub-categories pre-existed in the interview protocol (e.g., nature of learning
experiences in primary school, nature of learning experiences in secondary school,
and nature of learning experiences at the college level).

Ongoing analysis proceeded in the following manner. First, I made close
paraphrases of each audiotaped interview. Second, I wrote summaries of individual
interviews, based on the close paraphrases. These were crafted in narrative form. The
headings and sub-headings of these narratives drew upon pro-existing categories of the
interview protocol. I constructed the narratives using two sections. In the ﬁrst section,
I used lower interpretative strategies, focusing primarily on descriptions of the
participants’ actions and words. In the second section, I engaged in higher interpretive
strategies, developing reﬂections to capture my own thinking about the data and the

way in which my ﬁndings were beginning to address my research questions.

85

These narratives served two purposes. On the one hand, the narratives
provided me with detailed summaries and immediate reﬂections on the events,
information that I could draw on later, in more detailed analyses. On the other hand,
the narratives served as memos sent to my dissertation chair, both to keep her
informed on my progress and to elicit comments while I was still in the process of
gathering data.

This ongoing analysis continued throughout the data collection events and was
crucial to the development of the study. It helped me become more organized when it
was time to move from the ﬁrst two rounds of sttucturﬁ interviews to the third,
fourth and ﬁfth rounds of semi-structured interviews. The ongoing analysis helped me
frame later interview questions for the participants, and make decisions about who I
should talk with when I visited the participants’ schools, and the relevant questions
that I should raise.

The other major contribution of ongoing analysis was that it helped me frame
the categories and questions for the round-table conference for all ﬁve beginning
teachers as we approached closure. This round-table meeting eventually turned out to
be an important, collective interview, providing an important data base for Chapter 4.

On returning to the United States, analysis was more formal and focused. The
major categories and sub-categories that emerged as a result of ongoing analysis were
examined more closely to reveal a more narrow range of compelling themes. Two
compelling themes emerged from the data, resulting in a thematic approach to writing

Chapters 4 and 5. Chapter 4 focuses on the issue of variang in the enactment and

86

perception of collegiality in two different contexts--the within-school context, and the
broader out-of-school context, the latter involving collegial interactions between the
beginning teachers and me. Chapter 5 focuses on the theme of collegiality enacted and
experienced within hierarchical structures in two schools. These were not the only
themes that arose, but I made choices according to how compelling they were to my
understanding of the local Malaysian context.
Levels ef Anatyﬂ

At the macro level, analysis resulted in broad categories and sub-categories,
eventually leading to the emergence of important themes. For instance, Chapter 4,
focusing on the broad theme of variance in the enactment and perception of
collegiality, is a result of a macro-level analysis. Since the theme of variance was
broad, I drew on literary techniques of metaphor or analogy to help me organize and
frame my data. For instance, in using the analogy of kites in ﬂight to reﬂect the
nature of the different professional journeys of the beginning teachers, I made visible
important features of my data: the different rates and ways in which the beginning
teachers grew, the different contexts and environments in which they worked, and
perceptions of themselves as agents of their actions. I was inﬂuenced by the examples
of several others who used images, metaphors, analogies, and other ﬁgurative means
to talk about the professional behaviors of teachers (e.g., Clandinin, 1985; Paine,
1990; Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1992).

Arriving at one speciﬁc analogy was a difﬁcult part of the analytic process.

Analogies have the tendency to oversimplify the particular features in my data that I

87
needed to share. For instance, I was inﬂuenced by the analogy of inﬂated balloons

like those that are released on major occasions in my country such as the beginning of
national or international sports meets, or National Day celebrations. These balloons
are released and rise in different directions. Further analysis of the data, and attempts
to use such an analogy, revealed a lack of agency in inﬂated balloons compared with
kites ﬂying in the sky. And agency was something as important, if not more
important, than the environments in which the beginning teachers found themselves.
Thus, the point is that, while my use of analogy helped me to organize and frame
important features of my data, the advantages of such a technique had to be weighed
against possible disadvantages, primarily that of oversimpliﬁcation.

I did several analyses at the micro level. For instance, I looked at the
metaphors that the teachers had of themselves as beginning teachers as well as their
collective metaphors of their colleagues. Deciding what merited micro analysis of this
sort was inﬂuenced by literature on the ways we use language for meaning-making in
our lives. lakoff and Johnson (1980), for instance, talked about the importance of
metaphor in providing partial understanding of one kind of experience in terms of
another kind of experience. They regarded metaphor as being essential to human
understanding, and also as a mechanism for creating new realities:

Metaphors may create realities for us, especially social realities. A metaphor

may thus be a guide for future action. Such actions will, of course, ﬁt the

metaphor. This will, in turn, reinforce the power of the metaphor to make
experience coherent. In this sense metaphors can be self-fulﬁlling prophecies.

(p. 156)

88
Analﬂisﬁttatexie

I used three analytic strategies: (a) a compare—contrast strategy, (b) close
analysis of discourse, and (c) triangulation of data.

I used a compare-contrast strategy in consideration of striking mmeaalities
and emblem among the participants in terms of their biographies, their images of
themselves as teachers, their professional workplace environments such as the
physical and administrative structures, the collegial interactions taking place in the
workplaces, their perceptions of collegiality, and their growth as teachers. This
strategy is employed to its fullest in Chapter 5 where I have the focus stories of Jo
and Viji. These are two different stories based on similar frameworks. At the surface
level, the two stories are stories of human emotions-emotions that two teachers
experienced during a crucial time of their careers. But, in fact, the stories are used as
an analytic tool to show that collegiality is a paradox: It is a triumph in a particular
context while it is a failure in another. Further, within the same workplace, triumph
and failure can co-exist. Understanding why it is a triumph or failure, and being able
to share that understanding, results from using a compare-contrast strategy as an
analytic tool. Such a strategy was inﬂuenced by literature emphasizing a constant
comparative approach (Glaser & Strauss, 1967).

Discoursal characteristics also afforded another analytic tool (Cazden, 1988;
Nias, 1989). By looking closely at speech characteristics, I reﬂected on the processes
by which the participants related new knowledge to old, or expressed their

realizations of changes in their lives. In the context of the study, for instance, I

89

looked closely at the symmetry of discourse between Viji and a fellow beginning
teacher, Rani, as they moved from being fellow beginning teachers to close
colleagues. In examining the discourse, I looked at important literary elements like
diction, imagery, attitude, mood and tone (Lukens, 1990).

Triangulation of data was an analytic strategy that came into great importance.
During this process, I identiﬁed units of information (Lincoln & Guba, 1985)
available in my paraphrases of interviews and subsequent narrative summaries for use
in conﬁrming and disconﬁrming developing categories. I compared data sources with
one another rather than focus on one source of information. For example, the two
focus stories of Jo and Viji, and the cross-case analysis that came after, are based on
interviews with participants, logs, journals, on-site observations of the physical
settings, and interviews with administrators and colleagues. I employed a constant
comparison approach (Glaser & Strauss, 1967).

MAM

Thus, in conclusion, I would say that data analysis for this study underwent
two major phases. First, there was a preliminary exploratory analysis phase that I
carried out independently while in the ﬁeld and away from the dissertation chair and
the rest of the committee. After my return to the United States, there was a
subsequent deﬁnitive phase where I made major decisions about what was compelling
about the study, and how I was to share what I felt was compelling. Decisions were
made after individual meetings with committee members.

The whole process of data analysis can be said to be holding an ongoing,

 

90

sustained conversation with the data. It was thinking about analysis as a conversation
with my data that led literally to such a conversation in the stylistically different
Epilogue where two voices engage in a heart-to-heart talk. These are the voices of the
data and the researcher. It seems apt therefore to think of analysis as having an
ongoing dialogue with one’s data.

I have provided an overview of the participants, data collection, and data
analysis in this chapter. The following chapters center on the analysis. In Chapter 4,
my analysis focuses on the issue of variance-and relative absence of variance-in the
beg inning teachers’ perceptions of the enactment of collegiality in two respective
contexts: the within-school context and the broader out-of-school context of
participating in a study, with me as a colleague. Chapter 5 extends the analysis of
collegiality within school, focusing on how it is enacted within hierarchical structures

Finally, the Epilogue provides closure. It is a personal reﬂection on the process and

results of the study, and it looks toward the future.

CHAPTER 4
BEGINNING TEACHER J OURNEYS

Introduction and Purpose

In this chapter, I share the unique nature of the early professional journeys of

the ﬁve beginning teachers in contexts involving colleagues. "Beginning Teacher
Journeys” is thus a collective account of the teachers’ parallel and contrasting growth
experiences in collegial settings.

First, I provide reasons for selecting a narrow focus as I talk about the
teachers’ early professional lives, that being their growth experiences in collegial
contexts. Undeniably, all ﬁve teachers shared compelling stories about themselves
during the ﬁrst three months in the ﬁeld. They had different stories to tell. Their
Stories of initial confusion about mundane tasks that experienced teachers take for
granted, such as completing student registers and ﬁlling in teachers’ record books,
amused me. True, we seldom focus on these things in college. Further, their stories
of their early interactions with students drew a range of responses from me. I listened
Without interruption as they shared their difﬁcult moments, such as when Jo sought

subtle ways of incorporating values of social propriety into her English literacy
lessons; when Viji struggled with her original intention of using English only among

8 tudents who found great difﬁculty comprehending English; when Ruby familiarized

91

 

92

herself with ways of teaching English to Year 1 students, many of whom had not
attended pre-school or kindergarten; and when Leela refrained from using Tamil in

her English classes (Tamil being her mother tongue as well as the students’) so that
her students would learn English without depending on the problematic translation
method. I celebrated with each of them when they talked about their within-classroom
successes, big and small, such as when Jo creatively incorporated socially appropriate
expressions in her examples of the notion of "requesting,” one of the early units in
the Year 4 Communicative English syllabus; when Viji saw that her rural students,
motivated by her perseverance and interest, were becoming bolder in raising their
hands and venturing to speak in English; when Ruby had a set of parents coming in to
let her know that, since her arrival, their Year 3 son had taken an unusual interest in
learning English; and when Leela succeeded in preparing her Year 3 students, who
were learning English for the ﬁrst time, as a third language, to perform a popular
I'hylne dealing with numbers at a school assembly, not only earning the applause of
the listeners, but also saw many in the audience joining in as her students recited. But
these stories of instructional difﬁculties and successes within the classroom, though

fascinating and important, were not totally alien to me. I was myself a beginning

teracher once.
So dealing with their initial confusion in mundane or paperwork matters is not

a major part of this chapter’s content. Neither do I pay special focus to their
pedagogical successes and failures in subject-matter instruction even though their

1" m
portance cannot be underestimated. What I choose to share in this chapter is what I

 

93
found most compelling, indeed startling, to myself, having shadowed the ﬁve teachers

on their professional journeys across three different states. I am referring, ﬁrst, to the
' i lev i nce in e wa s thebe innin teacher

incr erceived e ment of

gellegielity in their werk places, end me ineredible inﬂuence of such emctment of
allegiality en their pergeptiens ef grewth g beginning tachers. Regarding this ﬁrst

point, I wish to show how teachers who had seemingly powerful and common starting
points--in the form of having graduated from nationally standardized preservice
programs, and a nationally acknowledged professional knowledge base--could grow as
teachers at greatly contrasting rates, and in greatly contrasting ways within their
different workplace environments involving colleagues.

n Ilowishtoill tr theve o si ff t' the imili in eir

pergptiem ef the nature ef eollegiality enacted by me in my pesitien as ”9341ng-
§c gel” eellggue, and how the gmlig of egr mllegigl intergotiegs mntribgted te

athgir grewth ae teachers.

Hearing these ﬁve teachers relate the nature of their professional experiences
in the context of colleagues, even a passive one like myself, could be an eye-opener:
It indicates, ﬁrst, that regardless of a nationally endorsed professional knowledge
base, and regardless of the similarity of standardized teacher preparation programs--

indeve-.d regardless of common cultural and home backgrounds for we have four
teélC-thers of Indian ethnicity here, two of whom are sisters, in fact--no two accounts of
beginning teacher growth in collegial settings are alike or predictable. Yet,

paradoxically, four of the ﬁve teachers reported perceptions of collegiality and

 

94

resultant teacher growth in almost identical ways and language within the context of
participating in this research study. The ﬁfth stood as a possible exception because of
unusual circumstances surrounding her case.

Following my explanation for focusing on one particular aspect of my study,
that is, the issue of variance in collegial experiences and related teacher growth,
rather than succumbing to the temptation of a complete overview of what I learned
from and with the teachers, is another purpose: In understanding the nature of the ﬁve
beginning teacher journeys involving colleagues, in realizing the great variance in
their collegial experiences and, consequently, their perceptions of growth, we help
broaden our horizons as teacher educators. These ﬁve beginning teacher journeys
could very well be stories not of ﬁve teachers in Malaysia, but of many more
elsewhere whose faces we do not see, whose voices we do not hear, whose fears and

uncertainties remain unresolved, whose struggles we do not share, and whose

triumphs we do not help celebrate. I believe that the variation in the beginning teacher
journeys would help broaden our outlook.
I organize this chapter in the following way. First, I illustrate the dramatic

Variance in perceptions of how collegiality was enacted and the contributions of such

(:01 legiality to teacher growth within the teachers’ schools, using an analogy of kites

in ﬂight. Subsequently, I move on to show how that very variance did not seem to

e"ist when beginning teachers experienced a form of collegiality and attributed a kind

of teacher growth to their active participation in this study. I conclude with a personal

eﬂection on the latter issue, that is, my indirect involvement in the growth of the

 

95

beginning teachers. As I do so, I make connections to existing knowledge about
teacher induction, collegiality, and teacher growth.
Kites in Flight

1 use an analogy of kites in ﬂight, being blown to the four winds, as I talk
about the beginning teachers and their early professional journeys. Kite ﬂying is a
grand, colorful, traditional event in some parts of Malaysia. Competitions take place
during the windy season. Malaysian kites are huge and elaborately decorated. Kite
owners make sure that their kites are structurally sound so that they would remain in
ﬂight for as long as they want them to. As one watches multiple kites ﬂying
gracefully in the sky, in seemingly slow motion, one is struck by the dramatic effect
of multiple colors and shapes and sizes. It is a beautiful portrait painted across the
skies.

Each kite is beautiful in its own way. Some ﬂy high, the wind assisting it
along. Some ﬂy low, waiting for the wind to show its favors too. Some are erratic in
ﬂight. Some get lodged in the branches of trees. Flight depends as much on the winds
as it does on the kites themselves and the people who handle them.

Using a kites-in-ﬂight analogy, two of my ﬁve kites seem to soar into the sky
in favorable winds. These are Jo and Leela, the teachers who have entered collegial
environments close to the ideal. Another teacher, Viji, has a head start, only to suffer
the unpredictable winds of change. The fourth, Ruby, initially remains grounded, and
then gradually takes to the sky, a case quite the opposite of Viji’s. And the last kite,

represented by Devi, Leela’s older sister, is sadly stuck in the branches of a tree,

96

temporarily immobilized.

I use the analogy of kites in ﬂight to capture the ﬂavor of the ﬁve beginning
teacher journeys as simply as possible. But I also use it cautiously because analogies,
while serving to make vivid what writers are trying to describe, are also prone to
oversimplifying the complexities of human experiences.

I start with an individual account of Jo in ﬂight, and then move on to Viji,
Ruby, Leela, and Devi. Using the kites-in-ﬂight analogy, I foreshadow each account
in the opening section. I then share each teacher’s understanding of the term ”growth”
in the second section entitled "Growth as a Teacher. " I subsequently share vignettes
or stories which throw light on the ways that the teachers grew as they made their
professional journeys in the ﬁrst three months of their careers amidst their colleagues.

.19
W

Jo’s ﬂight was steady throughout. She was placed in a close-knit collegial
community which was fast to recognize her qualities and let her put them to good use.
Several colleagues saw Jo as a conﬁdent, energetic, and enthusiastic 23-year-old
teacher, armed with fresh ideas in TESL from college. It was interesting to note that
words like energetie, enthusiastic, m, and ml; were used by a number of people
with whom I spoke in Jo’s school: the English language panel head, a senior assistant
to the headmaster, and one senior English teacher nearing retirement. At the end of
the early months, using the above-mentioned analogy of kites in ﬂight, I had no

doubts that Jo was ﬂying steadily in stable winds.

97
r h T her

At many points in the study, Jo had mentioned that she had ”learned" a lot of
things, and that she had ”grown” as a teacher. Jo often linked the idea of ”learning”
and ”growing" in a way that suggested that the former preceded and resulted in the
latter. During our fourth interview, held mid-way into the study (Table 3), I
approached the issue of growth more explicitly with Jo. To my questions about
whether she had "grown" as a teacher, and what she understood by the term
"growth," Jo remarked:

(I’ve grown in) a few aspects: I’m getting to know a number of people outside

my age group, getting to learn how to talk to them . . . and how to deal with

them. . . . And this is not people of your same background. . . . They might

have their own ideas and they might have their own ways. . . . I’m a person

who is ﬂexible. I adjust and I try to ﬁt in. This has taught me to be ﬂexible,

be adjustable and be tolerant. . . . I’m learning things that I didn’t know

before, you see. . . . I’m practicing . . . you got to ask . . . . A lot of things--

I’ve got to use my common sense. . . . Growth means practicing what you’ve

learned, not just putting into your head. (Fourth Interview, January 15, 1996)

The above quote, where Jo talked about her growth as a teacher, applied to
multiple contexts. The instances of growth that Jo shared in detail involved her
colleagues in some way. The following two vignettes illustrate Jo’s perceptions of the
nature of interactions with colleagues in different contexts, and how these perceptions
contributed to her growth as a teacher.

WW1. In reﬂecting on growth issues, Jo
talked about "getting to know a number of people outside my age group," and

learning ”to talk to them” and "deal with them.” In part, she was thinking of older

and more experienced colleagues (which I will share later); in part, she was talking

TABLE 3. Chronology of Interviews with the Beginning Teachers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EVENTS J O VIJ I RUBY LEELA DEVI
Pre-entry December December December December December
Interview 6, 1995 10, 1995 7, 1995 8, 1995 8, 1995
Teachers’ December December December December December
FirstDay 11,1995 11,1995 11,1995 11,1995 11,1995
at Work
Entry December December December December December
Interview 18, 1995 12, 1995 17, 1995 17, 1995 17, 1995
End-of- December December December December December
Year 22, 1995 — 22, 1995 — 22, 1995 - 22, 1995 - 22, 1995 -
Break January 1, January 1, January 1, January 1, January 1,
1996 1996 1996 1996 1996
Third December December December December December
Interview 26, 1995 31, 1995 29, 1995 28, 1995 28, 1995
Fourth January 15, January 12, January 17, January 14, January
Interview 1996 1996 1996 1996 14, 1996
Fifth February 6, January 29, February 9 February 5, February
Interview 1996 1996 1996 1996 5, 1996
Round- February February February February February
Table 15, 1996 15, 1996 15, 1996 15, 1996 15, 1996
Intra- February February February February February
Semester 15, 1996 - 15, 1996 - 15, 1996 - 15, 1996 - 15, 1996
Break February February February February February
27, 1996 27, 1996 27, 1996 27, 1996 27, 1996

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

99

about her urban students, many of whom were from afﬂuent homes. Jo had noted,
right from the beginning of her career, that many of her students did not show much
respect toward teachers, and it bothered her. Jo faced classroom management
problems in the early weeks, but she soon learned from her colleagues that they were
also facing problems in classroom management: ”A lot of teachers, the new teachers
as well as the old teachers--we’re still talking about the same topic: how to control the
boys. . . . You ﬁnd out that you’re not the only one” (Fourth Interview, January 15,
1996). This was a relief to her as she had earlier wondered whether the problem was
solely hers, a thought that was ”demotivating."

In the United States, many empirical studies on teacher induction focus on this
issue of classroom management. Investigators found that some teachers sacriﬁced
their curricular goals in order to maintain order during their lessons (Marshall, 1972;
Smyth, 1992). Other investigators found out that only when classroom management
came under control could beginning teachers free themselves to focus on the issue of
subject-matter instruction (Fuller & Brown, 1975; Featherstone, 1992). Further, in
these investigations, I noted that the "weapons" that beginning teachers used to cope
with their classroom management difﬁculties did not include their experienced
colleagues. They struggled alone.

Jo’s case in the Malaysian context was different. In each Malaysian school,
there is a specially designated person, Senior Assistant 2, who is the administrator in
charge of student affairs. It is a common and acceptable practice for teachers to send

students who pose difﬁculties in classroom management to this administrator, though

100

experienced teachers do this less often as such action may reﬂect negatively on their
ability to cope with student behavior. In Jo’s case as a ﬁrst-year teacher, stories of
parents lodging complaints in school over a variety of matters had come to her notice.
This might explain why Jo was cautious and sent students to Senior Assistant 2 on
some occasions.

Jo reﬂected on the occasions when she did bring her concerns about classroom
management to Senior Assistant 2. She noted that the latter always assured her that he
would intervene when things were too difﬁcult for Jo. While conversations with
colleagues in the teachers’ common room, centering on difﬁculties ”to control the
boys," made Jo feel better emotionally--they assured her that she was not alone in
facing such problems--the assurance of m or practigl signpost by Senior Assistant
2 was vital to Jo’s growth as a teacher: She had an ally on whom she could depend
and from whom she could learn ”to talk" and "to deal" with students.

But it was not always a simple case of having this administrator deal with her
problems, and things returning to normal after that. True, the availability of sustained
assistance was important to her: It gave her assurance that she could function in the
classroom, if necessary with a colleague’s intervention. But more interestingly, when
the colleague did actually intervene, his actions made her critically reﬂect on her own
practice. And critical self-reﬂection has been regarded as an instance of growth or
having the potential of leading to growth (Schon, 1983). Jo recalled one incident
when she battled with herself whether she had done the right thing in sending nine

boys to Senior Assistant 2; she elaborated that she was troubled and near tears when

101

her students were punished by him. She learned that sending students to him was not
an uninvolved and simple solution. Learning that easy solutions troubled her
conscience and resulted in critical self-questioning indicated growth in Jo’s eyes.

Jo learned about classroom management as she went along, and "grew" in that
she coped better as time went by. She said that she often observed and liked the
manner in which Senior Assistant 2 communicated with students. When I visited her
school in late March to thank the administrators and to inform them that I was
returning to the United States, I saw and Mg how Jo coped with student problems,
quite by chance. Two of her Year 4 students were found in another school before
school started. They were suspected to be responsible for a problem in that other
school and had to be ”bailed out" of that school by an administrator from Jo’s school.
I was a bystander as Jo talked calmly with one of the boys who was in tears in the
school ofﬁce. The administrator had already informed the parents of the two boys. It
was during the midst of a conversation with Jo in the school’s Resource Center that
one of the parents came. Jo and the parent talked within close range of where I was. I
was struck by how Jo spoke in a poised and conﬁdent way about what the problem
was, her surprise and disappointment that his son had got into trouble, and her
assurance to him that she will pay attention to his son and the issue. The parent soon
left, apparently relieved. The appearance of the parent struck me that the
administrator trusted Jo enough to let her talk with the parent, alone and unaided.

The above incident happened when Jo had been in the ﬁeld for more than

three months. The incident struck me that Jo had come a long way in learning to cope

102

with management problems. She remarked, in fact, that within the classroom, she no
longer needed intervention. But outside the classroom, some of her students still
posed problems. Based on Jo’s deﬁnition of growth as learning "to talk” with "people
outside my age group,” and "to deal with them”--in this case, I am referring to
students and parents--and to become "ﬂexible . . . adjustable . . . and tolerant,” Jo
had certainly grown. She grew amidst colleagues who unabashedly shared their own
accounts of the difﬁculty of managing students, or who intervened as Senior Assistant
2 whenever Jo solicited help.

Mg’ within collgtm ic ﬁttings, Most instances of growth that Jo
highlighted in our conversations were in the context of interactions with experienced
teachers in collectivistic settings--settings where teachers worked together. This is
understandable since, in the early months, Jo found herself assuming multiple
positions in teacher committees (Fable 4). These positions brought with them heavy
responsibilities.

Jo elaborated on instances when she received afﬁrmation, explicitly or
implicitly, that her practice as a teacher within certain collectivistic settings was up to
the mark. Based on Jo’s deﬁnition of growth as learning ”to talk to" others who "had
their own ideas and . . . ways," and "to ﬁt in,” as well as to practice what she had
learned, instances of growth in collectivistic settings abound. I focus on one particular
collectivistic context--belonging to the English panel, a teacher group that focuses on

curricular issues in English literacy instruction.

As a new member of the English panel, Jo was surprised that her experienced

103

TABLE 4. Responsibilities Assumed in Collectivistic Settings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SETTING JO VIJI RUBY LEELA DEVI
Subject English English English English -
Panels (Secretary); (Secretary); (Secretary);
Art Art (Chair); Music
Music; (Secretary);
Physical Ed. Art
(Secretary)
Student English English Scouting English -
Societies & Language Language (Advisor) Language
Uniformed Society (Co- Society Society (Co-
Groups Advisor) (Advisor) Advisor)
Parent- Committee Committee - - -
Teacher Member Member
Association
Library; Resource - - Library & Resource
Resource Center (Asst. Resource Center (Asst.
Center Coordinator) Center (Asst. Secretary);
Coordinator) Library
Teacher
Teacher-5’ Treasurer - - Committee Secretary
Welfare Member
Student Canteen Student Canteen; - Savings
Welfare Welfare Safety & Scheme
Committees Emergencies
(Secretary)
Textbook - Coordinator - - Committee
Loan Member
Others Duty Teacher Duty Teacher Duty Duty Teacher Duty
Teacher; Teacher
Computer
Room (Head)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

104

colleagues constantly prompted her to share her ideas in English language teaching
during the ﬁrst panel meeting. Jo had intended to say little, being new. Yet, prompted
by her colleagues, Jo found herself sharing her ideas at the panel meeting that
occurred soon after she started work as a teacher. She contributed her ideas freely,
and observed that her experienced colleagues welcomed them. Jo recalled:

They asked us about activities which we had planned for the year. They kept

on asking me, ”Miss Jo, I’m sure you’ve some new ideas. Come on,

contribute something. I’m sure you can tell us something." Can you help us in
this? Can you help us in that? They were asking something about choral
reading which I . . . guessed were jazz chants, you see. So they were saying

that they had a previous teacher who knew something about it, and she did a

very good job out of this. So they wanted to do this, the same thing for this

year, so they were asking around, who could help . . . turning to me. "Come
on, give us some ideas," they said. ”Share your ideas.” . . . They accepted

me. They accepted my ideas. I just contributed. I’m not shy to contribute. . . .

They prompted me to speak, that’s it. And we were very easy. . . . It was a

smooth-ﬂowing meeting where everybody was talking, and everybody was

giving her ideas. (Third Interview, December 26, 1996)

Based on Jo’s understanding of growth as learning "to ﬁt in," and ”practicing" such
learning, her active participation in the very ﬁrst panel meeting indicated that growth
occurred early in her career: She "ﬁtted in" as a fellow English panelist.

Further, the experienced English teachers unanimously elected Jo as the
secretary of the English panel. After being elected, Jo automatically took the minutes
of the meeting. She said that this was a familiar task since, at the teachers’ college,
student teachers carried out similar tasks in mandatory co-curricular activities. A
major difference was that this was in a professional workplace context. In a sense, Jo

had already learned about a secretary’s responsibilities, and, in her present school,

she had the opportunity of "practicing what you have learned"--her very deﬁnition of

105
growth.

But as she practiced the secretary’s role in a novel context, she sought
afﬁrmation that she was doing it right. Jo repeated time and again how important it
was to her that she was doing things ”correctly." Sometimes, it was easy for her to
tell if she was ”on the right track," a phrase that she often used. For instance, Mrs.
Diana, the most experienced English teacher in the school, would tell her in no
uncertain terms that Jo had good ideas, and that she had much to learn from Jo. This
explicit afﬁrmation that Jo was a valuable member of the teaching staff was vital to
Jo’s sense of growth. When there was no explicit afﬁrmation, she settled for implicit
feedback. A good example of implicit feedback, related to her role as panel secretary,
is when Jo showed the minutes of the ﬁrst panel meeting to the panel head. Jo was
satisﬁed with the implicit feedback that she was "practicing” well in her position of
panel secretary:

For example, the English panel meeting . . . I showed it (i.e., the report) to

Cik Noor and told her to proofread it. And she did it, and she just corrected

one error. Not error. She just added in a sentence. So I felt that that was good

feedback. . . . I’m on the right track. . . . You’ve to read in between the

lines. (Fourth Interview, January 15, 1996)

The two vignettes that I have shared-~the ﬁrst relating to learning about
classroom management amidst and from colleagues, and the second relating to

learning about ”ﬁtting in” within collectivistic settings--indicate that Jo grew steadily

as a beginning teacher. In both instances, she had the support of colleagues.

106

ﬂ'!|' 1!?! fEh

Viji’s beginning teacher journey involving colleagues struck many chords in
me in view of unforeseen changes to a close-to-ideal situation. Earlier, in introducing
the kites-in-ﬂight analogy, 1 characterized her ﬂight as having a head start, but then
was subject to the unreliable winds of change. Viji started out remarkably well. Based
on her ﬁrst few days in the ﬁeld, she was pleased with her headmaster and with her
other colleagues. Her colleagues made her feel like she were one of them despite the
fact that she was Indian, and almost the entire school population, teachers and
students alike, were Malay. They sought to make sure that she felt she belonged.
Some also recognized that she had lots of fresh ideas, and that she had much to
contribute. Unfortunately, after some weeks in the ﬁeld, like a kite that suddenly
loses momentum and height in winds of change, Viji’s perceptions of one group of
colleagues, the administrators, suddenly and drastically changed. This change in
perceptions eventually inﬂuenced how Viji saw herself ”grow” as a teacher.

r h T r

Like Jo, Viji often talked about "learning" and "growing” in our
conversations. During our fourth interview (January 12, 1996), I asked Viji to share
more explicitly her thoughts about growth. Had she grown as a teacher? And what
was her understanding of the term "growth"? Viji deﬁned "growth" in a spontaneous
and ﬁrm manner during this interview--an interview which coincided with her

disillusionment over the administrators’ inability to work closely together, her

107

discovery that two of the administrators departed from her initial favorable
impressions of them, and the headmaster’s indifference to the heavy teaching
schedules that she and another new teacher had, in comparison to others. From Viji’s
perspective, she had grown, ”growth” deﬁned as "independence . . . able to see right
from wrong. I know how to make decisions on my own. I’m not inﬂuenced by what
people say to me" (Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996). "Growth” seemed
synonymous to maturity in thinking (e.g., not inﬂuenced by what people say to me);
in acting (e. g., independence); and in judging (e. g., see right from wrong; make
decisions on my own).

Viji’s deﬁnition of growth is apt in the light of the ”baby" image that she had
of herself as a teacher as she stepped into her career. A ”baby” image raises thoughts
of naivete and dependence, and her deﬁnition of growth connoted the very opposite of
naivete and dependence. Through the six interviews that I had with her, Viji would
say that she had grown from a baby, who was helpless, to being able to help others,
meaning her students. She said at different times that she could already "walk” and
"count." At the round-table meeting, she said that she was already ”ﬁve years old.”
All these happened in just three calendar months.

Viji’s growth was phenomenal, but in a different sense from Jo’s as I will
illustrate. Viji’s growth was inﬂuenced by contrasting perceptions of how collegiality
was enacted by her administrators on one hand, and by her other colleagues on the
other hand. In the case of the former group, Viji grew to be independent because she

could not depend on them even when she solicited help or intervention. In the case of

108
the latter group, her experienced colleagues, her independence resulted from their
assistance and other forms of collegial support.

I share two instances of growth below. The ﬁrst shows Viji’s growing
independence in handling classroom management problems after she learned that she
could not depend on Senior Assistant 2 (i.e., the Discipline Teacher) to help her. The
second instance illustrates Viji’s growing independence in assuming roles within
collectivistic settings, particularly within subject panels, much of which resulted from
collegial interactions with experienced teachers.

WW Independence;
making decisions on one’s own; forming one’s own opinions: These were some
features of growth in Viji’s understanding of the term. Viji spoke about how poor
some of her students were in English literacy. Some of her Year 4 students could
hardly read or write. According to Viji, some colleagues had asked her to concentrate
on those who could learn and not be unduly worried about those who could not. But
Viji, right from the start, had a strong sense of ”right and wrong." She remarked:

Now, I’m giving a chance to all my pupils. . . . Although he may be a very

slow reader, but he can still read. It’s my job to encourage him . . . and not

just push him aside. From what they told me, "Leave them out." How can I

leave them out? . . . They have a right to learn. I’ve come independently to

think for myself and decide. . . . For me, the growth is coming from that end.

(Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996)

Viji discovered, however, that her good intentions of giving a chance to all her
pupils were confounded by classroom management problems. In one class especially,

she had little control over one particular boy. He was rude and unruly, and disrupted

her lessons. Aware that Senior Assistant 2 was also the Discipline Teacher, Viji

109

solicited help from her on one occasion. This is reminiscent of Jo seeking help from
the second senior assistant in the latter’s school. But in contrast to Jo’s situation, the
Discipline Teacher refused to intervene in Viji’s case. Viji was publicly embarrassed.
She learned how to marshal different resources to help her, primarily other
colleagues. But subsequently, she learned to be more independent. And independence,
as Viji said, indicated her growth. The following quote illustrates Viji’s growth
resulting from collegiality being p_QQr_lsL_e_n_aeted by the Discipline Teacher who was
also one of the school administrators:

Now, there’re lots of things that I can handle and I don’t go around asking for
help that much. I begin to realize in my class I am in charge. . . . I cannot
always be listening to somebody’s advice. And sometimes I have to make up
my own mind. There was an incident . . . about that boy who was very rude
to me. . . . He embarrassed me in front of class. I went to her to come with
me at that moment to go and reprimand him, but, no, she didn’t follow me.
(Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996)

The public embarrassment resulted in Viji making decisions more independently about
further action. Viji remarked that the Discipline Teacher had discouraged her from
calling the boy’s parents. But Viji, concerned about what was right and wrong, and
about making her own decisions, resolved to go against the wishes of the Discipline

Teacher:

She told me,"Don’t talk to his parents. It’s not going to work.” I thought, no.
I’m going to try my level best. For me, I feel that it’s important I talk with his
mother. I don’t want her to think that I’m not doing anything for the child. . .
. She told me, "Don’t, don’t do that." I don’t care. I feel that I should do it
as a teacher. I should. He’s my pupil. I told Encik Roselan (i.e., Senior
Assistant 1). . . . He said, "By all means, go ahead. You’re the class teacher.
You’ve every right to call the mother and talk." He said, "Later, don’t let
there be talk that you didn’t do your duty as a teacher. " (Fourth Interview,
January 12, 1996)

110
As we will learn in Chapter 5, this was not to be the only instance that Viji received
mixed messages from the two senior assistants, or suffered embarrassment or
dissatisfaction from their inability to work together as fellow administrators.
Experience taught Viji to shed the persona of ”baby" by making decisions based on
her own judgement.

In the preceding example, Viji learned to cope with the issue of classroom
management, an issue that seemed pressing in order that instruction could proceed
smoothly and her poor readers could be helped. Though she listened to others,
sometimes receiving mixed messages, she made up her own mind. She indicated that
she was not adverse to listening or seeking opinions, but there was a difference in her
earlier predisposition to accept the views of others without questioning. This, to her,
meant growth:

I’ve grown in the sense of my relationship with people in school. I used to

blindly listen to everybody. I wouldn’t know how to judge a person . . .

whatever they were saying to me is right. Maybe, I’m in the right. But,

because they said that I’m wrong, I’d have accepted that I’m wrong because

they’re senior teachers, they would know better. . . . I feel that I’ve matured a

bit. (Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996)

Viji elaborated that, with certain people, she could joke up to a certain extent.
With other people, she had to be strictly professional. And with others, she could be a
friend, and could tease them. She reﬂected that, sometimes, people were not what
they had earlier seemed to be, cordial and professional. She referred particularly to
Senior Assistant 2 or the Discipline Teacher who, of late, had treated her in a way

that was distressing. Viji learned, through experience, to judge another’s character

independently. This signiﬁed growth in her eyes.

11 1
W254 Looking at Table 4, it is obvious
that Viji held a number of positions in teacher groups which would require her not
only to work closely with colleagues but also to lead them (e. g., as art panel head).
Viji had to learn to be independent, to ”handle" things, and ”make decisions,” and
she found that most colleagues were happy to help her do that. In some instances, she
could ”handle” things and "make decisions" easily, such as in her position as English
panelist and panel secretary. At the ﬁrst English panel meeting, Viji found herself
voicing her opinions conﬁdently in the presence of the headmaster and Senior
Assistant 2 (who was also English panel head). Viji had indicated before that the
English panel head was not a TESL major, and this could have made Viji conﬁdent
enough to share her own knowledge. Viji made a lot of suggestions to create a
language-rich environment in the school for English language learning such as using
English during school assemblies, having students perform simple activities for others
at assemblies (e. g., rhymes and skits), having a more prominent and accessible
location for the English bulletin board, and subscribing to an English magazine. She
also volunteered to coach poor students if the teacher and student schedules would
allow that to happen. The headmaster, who also attended the panel meeting, noted her
multiple suggestions.
But in less familiar terrain, such as being chair of the art panel, Viji could not
demonstrate such conﬁdence and independence immediately. She was unfamiliar with
a chair’s role, and she was not an art major. But she was independent in that, instead

of expecting offers of help from others, she immediately sought help from relevant

112

parties such as other panel heads. They were most willing to share their knowledge
with her. One particular colleague, Puan Rozana, went out of her way to assist Viji in
preparation for Viji’s debut in chairing an art panel meeting. So concerned was Puan
Rozana that she even sat through Viji’s ﬁrst meeting despite the fact that the former
was not a member of the art panel. Viji felt that for subsequent meetings, she would
be familiar with procedural sorts of things like preparing letters of notiﬁcation and the
mechanics of conducting a meeting. Content-wise, she resolved to learn from her
panel members about ways of realizing the year-long objectives that they had planned
at that ﬁrst meeting. Independence, which implied growth to Viji, resulted in the area
of procedural know-how at the very least.

Collectively, Viji was a member of four subject panels, including the music
panel. She noted that some colleagues treated her like a "professional," regardless of
her young age, particularly an experienced teacher who sought her out for help in
music instruction. She associated the showering of many positions of responsibility in
collectivistic settings with her identity of ”newness.” She could not keep the baby
image for long. Indeed, she was a baby who grew extremely fast through two
contrasting types of collegial experiences. I characterize the ﬁrst type as collegiality
badly enacted, such as when the Discipline Teacher refused to intervene when Viji
sought her help in classroom management. And I characterize the second as

collegiality that was enacted well such as when other panel heads were more than
willing to guide her, and when Puan Rozana assisted her in preparations for the ﬁrst

art Panel meeting that Viji subsequently chaired. Growth came through acquiring

113

greater independence in both contexts, but the conditions promoting such
independence were undesirable in one situation, and heartening in the second. It was

not a case where only a positive situation contributed to growth; the opposite was also

true.

The ﬂe' The; Finally Flew

When I think of Ruby’s disposition during our ﬁrst couple of meetings, I am
reminded of some attempts that I made, as a child, to ﬂy kites. Someone would raise
the kite at a distance, and as soon as I gave the signal, I would run and the other
person would release the kite. Then I would maneuver the string attached to the kite,
sometimes pulling it tautly and sometimes releasing it, depending on how the wind
was romancing the kite. But more often than not, my kite would remain grounded,
even when I changed kites. I had little conﬁdence in my kite-ﬂying skills. In the same
way, Ruby remained ”grounded” for a good many weeks in the ﬁeld. The only thing
that Ruby looked forward to in school, during her very early days, was seeing her
Year 1 and Year 3 students. In Ruby’s words, talking to her colleagues, who seemed
indifferent to her, was like ”talking to a brick wall. " Unexpectedly, mid-way into the
study, a series of events happened and Ruby began to perceive change in the attitudes
of some of her colleagues toward her. She felt that there was increased friendliness as
well as respect for her as a teacher. Once that happened, the grounded kite ﬁnally

ﬂew, as illustrated below.

114
Growth g g Twer

On the ﬁrst day that Ruby reported at her school, a senior colleague told her
that since Ruby was teaching Year 3A1--the best of the Year 3 students-she had
better make sure that the students became ”better, not worse, " as a result of her
instruction. This startled Ruby as it indicated doubt on the colleague’s part that she
could teach. The colleague’s comment affected Ruby greatly, especially since Ruby
had had doubts about her level of proﬁciency in English and was still working on
improving herself. The incident affected Ruby’s conﬁdence to the extent that she
identiﬁed it as ”the most important incident" during her ﬁrst week at work. She
explained that she regarded the comments as a challenge: She wanted to prove herself
as a competent English teacher.

Thus, it came as no surprise to me when, during our fourth interview, Ruby
explained her understanding of "growth" as increased ”conﬁdence. " To the question
of whether she had grown, Ruby had responded:

I think so. . . . I have more conﬁdence in myself now. . . . At least, . . . l

have someone to talk to when I’m in school, not like before when I have to go

here and there alone, all by myself. . . . I had to approach them . . . and
sometimes they just gave their backs to me. . . . Now, at least, I have a few
people. They can give their suggestions and opinions. (Fourth Interview,

January 17, 1996)

Further, when asked to deﬁne the term ”growth," Ruby responded that it meant, ”I
develop myself."

Below, I share two of Ruby’s stories of growth in terms of developing her

conﬁdence as a teacher, both involving colleagues. Both are unique stories of Ruby’s

increased publicity as a competent teacher and subsequent increased conﬁdence in

115

herself. I call them "In the limelight” stories.

"m the ﬁmeh’gﬂ" sign (I), In Ruby’s experiences, there were incidents to
be proud of but which were not obvious to others. One of these was a visit by a set of
parents whose son was upset because Ruby had not carried out a lesson using realia
(candy) which their child had brought to school. Ruby explained to the parents that
the English lesson, focusing on the skill of ”requesting information,” had been
cancelled because of an unforeseen school function that involved both teachers and
students. During the conversation, the parents expressed their curiosity over the
unusual enthusiasm of their child in learning English since Ruby’s arrival. Ruby was
pleased by the positive feedback. However, occasions like this were private. Although
the compliments increased her conﬁdence-an important indicator of growth according
to her deﬁnition--Ruby did not feel that she was recognized as a competent teacher by
her colleagues. She felt that almost all her colleagues, except for fellow beginning
teachers, were indifferent to her. Thus, there were few experienced colleagues whom
she could consult for suggestions and ideas in order to increase her conﬁdence as a
teacher. I recall her description of her ﬁrst English panel meeting when she noted
both good and undesirable things happening. The good was that she learned of up-to-
date instructional resources that were available for language teaching in the school,
and that fellow English literacy teachers used these audio-visual aids in their teaching;
the undesirable was that some fellow panelists dictated to her what she should do as
part of the activities for a school-wide English literacy event. Ruby had perceived

their comments as a lack of conﬁdence in her to carry out activities of her own

1 16
choice.

During our ﬁrst three interviews, a mood of despondency was evident despite
the fact that she sensed that her students liked her, and liked the way she taught.
These feelings of despondency need much clariﬁcation in terms of the workplace
environment as well as in terms of Ruby’s biographical background. Ruby had
entered a school with about 114 teachers, by far the largest of the ﬁve schools. She
had anticipated indifference from urban folk, having worked in Kuala Lumpur before.
When reporting for work, it was as she had feared. Ruby claimed that she made
attempts to break the ice and make friends with experienced colleagues, but she had
little success beyond two possibilities. She described the rest as indifferent.

From a different perspective, it is possible that Ruby, inﬂuenced by past
experiences in human relationships, and placed in a school twice as big as Jo’s and
eight times that of Viji’s, was just overwhelmed and predisposed to perceiving her
colleagues as unfriendly. Time and again, in past interviews with her, she had
commented that she could only trust and depend on herself, and that this was related

to her experiences in Australia as an undergraduate engineering student.

Her view of the administrators did not differ much from her view of her
colleagues. As late as the round-table meeting, she commented that her headmaster
was probably not aware of her existence in view of the size of the school. She
initially viewed the afternoon supervisor as serious and formal, a person who did

most of the talking while Ruby did most of the listening during their ﬁrst meeting.

The aura of formality that Ruby was trying to convey to me was believable: It struck

117

me when I visited her school and when I looked at the arrangement of individual
desks and tables in the enormous common room and the absolute neatness of
announcements on the chalk board in the same room. Further, the artifacts that Ruby
made available to me such as charts showing the school hierarchy, or circulars listing
the roles and responsibilities of teachers in various committees, reinforced the aura of
seriousness, formality, and meticulous organization in the school.

Returning to the kites-in-ﬂight analogy, the winds gradually came to Ruby’s
aid in the most intriguing ways. First, strange winds came in the form of health
emergencies, involving herself and her father in quick succession, that took her away
from school on two separate occasions. These happened between the third and fourth
interviews. Second, change came about in the form of possible consequences of my
visit to her school and my conversations with her colleagues that brought her ”into the
limelight" and earned her ”respect. " Some of her colleagues commented to her that
she must have been a "very good student teacher” in college. Otherwise, why would a
"college lecturer," referring to my professional position in Malaysia, pay special
attention to her gm being certiﬁed? Her afternoon supervisor asked for her shortly
after my visit and told Ruby that if she needed to talk with someone, she was there to
listen. She also asked Ruby about the research of her ”college lecturer” and whether
she had been helpful to me during our interview. Ruby began to feel a sense of

respect from several people.

Collectively, the above events contributed to, as well as reinforced, Ruby’s

feelings that she had developed "more conﬁdence” in herself and that she had people

118
to talk with, not like before when she had to ”go here and there alone.” She had
people who could ”give their suggestions and opinions. " She was in a context where
she could ”develop" herself. In short, conditions were in place that would permit
growth in Ruby’s deﬁnition of the term. As I understood it, it was psychological or
emotional "growth in conﬁdence," rather than the practical growth of learning to do
things in Jo’s context, or becoming more independent in Viji’s case.

"In the limelight" stegy (II), The second story of how Ruby received
publicity, and consequently ”grew" in terms of developing more conﬁdence in herself,
is even more fascinating. This was sometime after my visit to Ruby’s school when
Ruby sensed an increased respect for her among some colleagues. Ruby became
aware that there was a need to staff the computer room with a head who was strong
in computer literacy skills. This resulted in the discovery that Ruby was their person
and her subsequent appointment as head. It needs to be pointed out that Ruby had
spent three and a half years abroad in an engineering course, and she had further
reinforced her computer skills while in the teachers’ college where a formal course of
computer study was mandatory. At the February 15 round-table meeting, Ruby
recalled, with unconcealed pleasure, how things fell into place for her:

Ruby: I’m in charge of computers now. It was like a surprise to me
because, usually, they give this kind of job--the leader job, you
know--to all the senior teachers. But I was very surprised when
one of my colleagues . . . came to me and told me that,"Ruby,
from now onwards, you’re in charge of the computer room. So
you have to take care of everything." . . .

Voon-Mooi: How did he say it? Because, when you said it like that, we’re

thinking, oh, oh, he’s giving a command. But that’s not what
you meant, right?

Ruby:

Jo:

Ruby:

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No, not a command. It’s an honor actually. . . like-- you should
be proud of yourself. ”Because you know why, Ruby? . . .
Because, usually, this kind of job . . . the priority is given to
the senior teachers.” . . . I said, "Why me?” (He said,) ”I know
you have computer knowledge.” . . . I said, ”No, not that
much." (He said,) "But you’re better than the rest of us." So I
said, "What shall I do?" . . . I have to do the time-table. I have
to make sure the syllabus is okay, everything’s done in order. .

. . Se if yea ge te Jalan Delima Primgy Sehool, ant! yeis’re

kin forwh’ in h eof he in rr m ’1]

”Miss Ruby,” Brave! . . . I have my own room now! . . .

(Overlapping speech). They’ve ﬁnally recognized your ability.
And you’re getting on the right path now.

It’s like a dream come true also. . . .

I heard excitement, pride, afﬁrmation, recognition, and, most importantly, self-

conﬁdence in her voice. This sentence was particularly revealing, "So if you go to

Jalan Delima Primary School, and you’re asking for who’s in charge of the computer

room, they’ll say, ’Miss Ruby.’ Bravo!” Ruby also expressed conﬁdence in carrying

out her role. She elaborated on the nature of the job, explaining to the co-participants

that other teachers would have to depend on her:

Ruby:

Voon-Mooi:

Ruby:

1 have to ﬁnd out from the teachers the background of the
pupils, if they have computers at home. . . . I’ve to talk to
them, what they’re supposed to do . . . . I’ve to do all the
talking. I’ve to explain what this program is like. From there,
they’ll get to know Ruby. . . .

Given the situation now, you know, . . . do you feel you’ll have
the cooperation of the teachers?

Of course I’ll have their cooperation. If not, their students are in
trouble!

The major point behind following Ruby’s professional journey is to illustrate

that collectively, the administration and other colleagues played a major role in

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inﬂuencing how she, as a beginning teacher, felt and subsequently grew emotionally.
The surprising empathy of the afternoon supervisor, so different from Ruby’s ﬁrst
impression of her; the increased respect she had from some colleagues; and Ruby’s
eventual appointment as computer head, collectively served as a powerful turning
point. Ruby’s case is unique. It appeared to me that addressing her initial feelings of
psychological or emotional isolation made a great difference to her growth as a
teacher. I characterize her growth in this manner: It was not that she became more
competent; it would be more accurate to say that she gained conﬁdence through
recognition of and opportunity to share and further develop pre-existing competence.
Ruby’s problem at the beginning was a feeling of emotional isolation; once that was
addressed to a satisfying degree, Ruby took to the skies at last. Her story had a fairy

tale ending.

WM
Initially, Leela’s case was like a kite that was about to be ﬂown in

unpredictable weather conditions. Her journey differed from the others in the study in
that she was going to start work in a school where Tamil, the standard Indian
language, was being used as the medium of instruction for all subjects; Malay and
English were taught separately as language subjects. Leela remarked that she was
nervous about going to the school for several reasons. First, her preservice practica
had been in a different setting from her new placement. She completed her practica in

a setting that was familiar to her, that is, a school that used Malay as the medium of

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instruction. It was the same setting in which she herself had been educated. Not
having been educated in an Indian school herself further meant that she was not
literate in Tamil, her home language, though she spoke it ﬂuently. She was worried
about the implications of being Indian but not literate in Tamil, the standard language
of Indians. But, using the kites-in-ﬂight analogy again, Leela’s ﬂight turned out to be
as smooth as Jo’s. She liked her afternoon session colleagues a lot. Some colleagues
knew her father, a headmaster of an Indian school. Leela became acquainted with
some who were in the morning session as well, including a second-year English
teacher by the name of Mrs. Susila. Though Leela taught in the afternoon, Mrs.
Susila approached Leela soon after the latter reported for work, making herself
available in case the beginner needed help. They quickly became friends. A common
subject specialization, that being TESL, seemed to be a powerful binding force
between the two of them, particularly since the majority of the school population
communicated largely in Tamil, making English literacy instruction, in which they
were both immersed, really challenging. At the round-table meeting in mid-February,
1996, Leela appropriately described her colleagues using mother, friend and buddy
images. Thus, within a pleasant and collegial community, Leela’s ﬂight was not
erratic like Viji’s or Ruby’s; it was a graceful ﬂight in gentle winds.

h T r

As with Jo, Viji, and Ruby, Leela responded to my questions about whether
she had grown as a teacher and her understanding of the term "growth” rather

spontaneously. Leela spoke about growth in terms of changing emotionally as well as

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mentally or intellectually. Based on that deﬁnition, she felt she had grown. I asked
Leela to talk further about those two words, "emotionally” and "intellectually." Leela
sought to make me understand by giving examples of growth, such as past actions or
behaviors. I share some of these actions or behaviors a little later in this account.

Leela elaborated on the ﬁrst term, "emotional," as feelings that developed
within her after starting her career as a teacher. Some feelings which were still fresh
in her mind were those experienced in the ﬁrst few days of teaching, when she felt
like ”going somewhere, screaming my heart out.” In part, it was because she felt
confused by many things. With time, those feelings went away. In their place was a
greater calm, control, and conﬁdence.

Regarding having grown mentally or intellectually, Leela explained that this
had mostly to do with carrying out her responsibilities and teaching in the classroom.
Her elaboration indicated that she was thinking of responsibilities in instruction, in
teacher committees, and in administrative matters. In all three cases, carrying out her
responsibilities involved her colleagues, directly or indirectly.

I found many instances of growth that matched Leela’s explanation of
emotional and intellectual growth. I share two of them. The ﬁrst, that of being Duty
Teacher, was identiﬁed by Leela as one of her ”greatest achievements as a teacher"
during the February 15 round-table discussion. The achievement indicated both
emotional and intellectual growth, as I will illustrate later. The second instance of
growth is related to what Leela did 913sz her classroom (i.e., marshaling resources)

so as to improve things iaside her classroom (i.e., classroom management and

123

instruction).

r win thr h in "I D T h r " At the round-table conference,
the teachers talked about memorable moments, good and bad. Leela talked excitedly
about being "Duty Teacher. " In Malaysian schools, teachers take turns to be Duty
Teachers. The responsibilities and number of days that teachers assume this role
differ from school to school. In Leela’s case, she learned about a Duty Teacher’s role
early in her career. She learned that she would be ”on duty” with some other teachers
for a week at a time. The ﬁrst ”lead Duty Teacher,” or leader, in her group explained
to Leela some of the things that Leela would have to do as a member of the group, as
well as the additional responsibilities when it was her turn to assume the position of
lead Duty Teacher. Leela was relieved to ﬁnd out that since her name was third on
the list in her group, she would have plenty of time to learn about the lead role.

The ﬁrst time she was on duty, Leela asked a lot of questions about what she
was expected to do. She learned from, as well as closely observed, the lead Duty
Teacher perform her role. Being "on duty” included staying late after school so as to
ensure that all students had gone home, maintaining discipline during recess, writing
reports on conditions in the school (e. g., the state of the cafeteria), and so forth. This
was collective work. The lead Duty Teacher had to conduct the school assembly on
one particular day of the week, when all students and teachers would gather for
announcements as well as some student participation (e.g., making a speech or
performing a literacy activity).

Because of unexpected circumstances, Leela found herself having to conduct

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the school assembly Lem she was due to do so as the lead Duty Teacher was absent
from school and another was attending an inservice course. Leela recalled her anxiety
at having to address the whole school, and her surprise when she remained calm and
collected as she spoke. I need to elaborate here that through my observations as well
as through Leela’s self-evaluation, Leela’s shyness and reservation were quite
obvious, particularly in comparison to her sister, Devi, who used to be protective of
her when they were younger. Yet Leela conducted the assembly smoothly. Her
success implied emotional growth, especially when we compare her to the Leela who
felt like ”going somewhere, screaming my heart out" during her early days as a
teacher. Her success also implied intellectual growth, based on Leela’s deﬁnition that
intellectual growth was related to ”carrying out . . . responsibilities.” I let Leela’s
voice conclude this ﬁrst instance of her growth:

And suddenly, there were only two of us. . . . Suddenly I was the leader. . . .

I really didn’t know what to do. . . . I had to conduct the assembly. . . .

Every week, we’ve a certain topic. For example, for this week, it was Hari

Raya Puasa, so the teacher, the leader, has to talk about Hari Raya Puasa.
She has to prepare something. Either the students have to do a sketch or she

has to give a talk about Hari Raya Puasa. . . . I didn’t really know what to
do. I was . . . telling other teachers, like: What was I supposed to do? How
was I supposed to conduct the assembly? . . . B t r l h l m l .

They said, "You just prepare, jot down, like, What is Hari Raya Puasa? Who
celebrates it? What do they do before Raya?" . . . I went up. First, I started in
English, and then I . . . talked in Malay. It went on well. . . . Thank God,
Mrs. Ratnam (i.e., the lead Duty Teacher who was absent) had already
prepared the pupils before that for that topic . . . a presentation. . . . I was
able to conduct an assembly. . . . Usually I get nervous . . . that kind of stage

fright. I yyas se samrised l was net nerveas. (Round-Table Conference,
February 15, 1996)

The signiﬁcance of the above event needs to be stressed, and an effective way would

be through contrasting the conﬁdence and composure that Leela experienced in this

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major event with her excitability and vulnerability during the ﬁrst days of teaching:

I think I’m able to handle things . . . not getting too much tension . . . (not)

going somewhere, screaming my heart out, you know. That’s what I felt the

ﬁrst two days, you know. I really wanted to go somewhere and just scream. .

. . Now I can reﬂect, oh, these things have happened. (Fourth Interview,

January 14, 1996).

Leela’s achievement as the lead Duty Teacher had much to do with collegial
support. First, Mrs. Ratnam, who was supposed to have conducted the assembly, had
paved the way for a smooth assembly. Leela mentioned her relief that Mrs. Ratnam
had, in advance, prepared some students for a presentation. Second, Leela mentioned
that other colleagues had helped her by telling her what she could say about Hari
Raya Puasa (i.e., the celebration at the end of the Muslim fasting month), before
asking the students to come up for their presentation. Though put on the spot to
conduct the assembly, Leela had the needed moral and practical support of colleagues.

Maghaling "oatsidglagrtmm" meaﬂ for "wtt’ hinﬂassreem"
9mm My focus in sharing the beginning teacher journeys, so far, has been on
growth that occurred within or through collegial experiences. Leela’s second instance
of growth links her actions within her classroom with her actions outside the
classroom, that is among her colleagues. In other words, Leela became quite adept at
marshaling resources from outside her classroom to better her practice within the
classroom, both in terms of classroom management and instruction.

Leela talked about her students often. She talked about being confused

initially: While students in most schools started learning English in Year 1, Tamil

school students started learning the language only in Year 3 since it was a gig!

126
language for them. Leela taught Year 3 students. This meant that she had to disorient
herself from the Year 3 syllabus used in most schools. The Year 3 syllabus that she
used in the Tamil school was closer to the Year 1 and Year 2 syllabi for schools
where students started learning English in Year 1. As English was learned as a third
language by her Indian students, it meant that Leela had to remember to lower her
expectations of the Year 3 students. Unsurprisingly, Leela reported being confused a
number of times.

Leela reminded me that the image she picked for herself as a teacher during
our ﬁrst interview was that of a ”learner.” And she reminded me that, indeed, she
was learning something new all the time:

Every lesson, I learn something new from my pupils, you know. . . . Their

reactions give me new ideas--oh, I can do these things also. I’m learning from

their reactions, what I can do for them, you know, instead of just, everyday,
giving the same old thing and getting nothing from them. . . . I still see
myself as a learner. . . . I learn from students and also from . . . interactions

with other teachers. (Fourth Interview, January 14, 1996)

What she learned from other teachers, and how that happened, is the issue that I
found most compelling. Leela identiﬁed listening to other teachers as being important,
so that she could "learn to be a bit more like them.” But one might ask whether she
needed to be "a bit more like them." Why would she need to afﬁliate herself with
them in terms of instruction? Leela enlightened me that her ”growth was related to
other teachers”:

For example, I want to know about Year 3 . . . I’ve to know how the class is,

whether they’re noisy during my lesson only, or whether they’re just like that

when it comes to the other teachers, the other lessons. So, in order to know

what’s wrong there, I have to ask other teachers. Is this how the class is when
you’re in, when you’re teaching? . . . I have to get their opinions. I’ve done

127

this, and their views have helped me a lot, especially in a particular class. . . .
Then I would be able to know whether something is wrong with me, the way
I’m teaching, or whether it’s like that. . . Then, I’ll know whether I’ve to
change my approach or my activities or my style, then I can, you know, better
myself. (Fourth Interview, January 14, 1996)

Approaching her colleagues for such assistance did not happen right from the start.
Leela remarked on her emotional growth:

I told you, for the ﬁrst two weeks . . . I was lonely, and I needed somebody

to talk to. . . . Now, I don’t have that kind of feeling any more. . . . Now, if
I feel like depressed or angry about something, I can just talk to any of the
teachers there . . . instead of getting more and more depressed. . . .

Emotionally, I’m able to, you know, tell, get close to other teachers. (Fourth
Interview, January 14, 1996)

The two types of growth that Leela had earlier highlighted, emotional and intellectual,
seemed intertwined as she spoke. So why was it important to be able to tell her
emotions like being ”depressed or angry” to her colleagues? Leela responded simply,
"Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on my teaching. . . . Maybe, I’ll
start to hate teaching."
Leela later shifted again to the "intellectual” part of her growth deﬁnition:
I need to know how to become a better teacher. . . .When there’re new
changes, changes to the syllabus or something, a teacher who has gone for a
course and comes back, and then, she needs to have in-house training . . . that
kind of interaction with other teachers will . . . contribute, you know, to my
being a better teacher. (Fourth Interview, January 14, 1996)
I need to elaborate here. All Year 6 students take national examinations before they
move to secondary school. The year that the ﬁve beginning teachers started teaching,
the examination format for the Year 6 English paper was revamped such that students

would have to write phrases or sentences rather than merely respond to multiple-

choice items. Malaysian teachers loosely term such changes as having "subjective

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questions." The context that Leela was referring to in learning about such crucial
curricular changes is the English panel. The English panel, thus, helped Leela to
grow "intellectually” by familiarizing her with the latest curricular changes. Aside
from learning about important curricular changes of this sort, Leela also mentioned
that all teachers, including herself, contributed to a special ”question bank" to aid
Year 6 teachers as they prepared students for the national examinations in September.
The stories that I have shared about Leela, about her being lead Duty Teacher,
and about marshaling outside-classroom resources for within-classroom objectives, are
but only two instances of her growth. Giving an in-depth account of these two
instances has a price: It belies the extent of growth in other contexts, such as when
assuming multiple positions of responsibility within collectivistic settings (e.g., Leela
was secretary of ﬂee subject panels, as seen in Table 4). The impression that I want
to leave my reader with is that Leela encountered a close-knit collegial community
that enabled her to grow as a teacher. The initial unpredictable winds where Leela
was to test her wings turned out to be steady and gentle. Leela struck me as a
contrasting personality to lo. Yet both grew steadily as beginning teachers, though in
different ways. While Jo was energetic, bubbly and talkative, I perceived Leela as
soft-spoken and shy. I worried initially about how she was going to establish herself
in her new school. However, my fears were unfounded. I recall the poise with which
she conducted herself at the round-table meeting. She was not particularly talkative,
but when she chose to speak, she spoke with a conﬁdence that went far beyond what I

exPected. Going back to my analogy, her case is that of a kite ﬂying gracefully and

129

quietly in pleasant and stable weather conditions.
Deli
MEI;

Among the ﬁve teachers, Devi, Leela’s older sister, undertook the most
poignant and the most disappointing beginning teacher journey. In terms of kite
ﬂying, it seemed, at ﬁrst, that hers was the best that could be expected. There was no
uncertainty like Leela’s Tamil school; Devi was going to a school using Malay as the
medium of instruction, the kind of school that she herself had attended her entire
school life. Such familiarity was an asset; there would be fewer surprises such as
would be expected of Ieela’s placement. Further, Devi’s school was a ﬁve-minute
stroll from her home. She would have no problems with transportation to school, nor
waste time on the road--two problems which Leela faced. What else could a beginning
teacher ask for? It was like taking a kite out into ﬂat, open terrain, where there were
no trees that could hinder one’s efforts, where one could see clear blue skies, and
where there was the promise of stable winds to assist its ﬂight. But it was not to be.

It had seemed perfect until Devi reported for work and immediately discovered
that there were excess English teachers in the school. Her position was uncertain. She
might have to be transferred to another school, but for the time being, she was to
remain in the school with no teaching assignments, no membership in subject panels,
and little of signiﬁcance in terms of working in teacher committees that were closely
tied with curriculum and instruction. Table 4 indicates her situation until shortly

before the round-table conference.

130

Using the kites-in-ﬂight analogy, Devi was a kite that had hardly taken off
when it lodged itself in the branches of an unexpected tree, and remained grounded
for several weeks.

r h T h r

During our fourth interview, I asked Devi the same questions regarding
teacher growth as I asked the others. I prefaced my question carefully: Given all these
unexpected events in your life as a teacher, have you grown in any way? Devi
responded:

Not really, I guess, because I haven’t seen anything to help me to grow. . . . I

feel I’m still the same. . . . Maybe I’m more mature when I say things to

people now. . . . You think before you say something. . . . I don’t see any
point in arguing . . . . that I want an English class to teach, because I know
that it’s not going to work. Nobody is going to take any action. (Fourth

Interview, January 14, 1996)

At one point of our conversation, Devi mentioned the word "learning. "
”learning,” according to Devi, implied "changes in you.” With that in mind, Devi
reﬂected on the question about whether she had ”changed”: "I don’t think so. I guess
I’m still the same. . . . I’m hoping for the best, still hoping. Nothing has changed." I
asked, "Have you not changed?" Devi responded, "I don’t think so." I asked again,
”You haven’t changed?” And again, she responded, ”No, I don’t think so.” I asked
more questions of Devi about "growth" and "learning” and ”change” than I did in the
other cases. But each time, the answer came back to me that she did not think she had
changed.

I chose to be more direct: What does ”growth" mean to you as a teacher? The

response came spontaneously. It meant:

131

You’ve learned something about . . . teaching. Growing means that when you
learn something, it adds on to what you already have. It’s something new.
And, it helps you. You accept it, and you continue with that particular thing.
If it’s good, you take it. . . . Maybe, it’s a kind of progress . . . it’s a kind of
change that you see in yourself that’s for the better. (Fourth Interview, January

14, 1996)

Devi said that she saw no progress in herself. At the fourth interview, in view of her
circumstances of not having a permanent teaching schedule, Devi wished that she
could get a transfer because the administration did not allow her to grow.

My account of Devi’s journey departs from the preceding accounts of the co-
participants of the study. I take her deﬁnition of growth--that of ”change that you see
in yourself that’s for the better”--and describe two types of experiences which
impeded Devi’s growth based on her deﬁnition of the term. The ﬁrst anchors on the

superﬁciality of informal interactions with her colleagues; the second relates to her
non-participation in subject panels.

Sammeialst’ y of interagieas with eolleagag, Devi’s interactions with most
of her colleagues were superﬁcial, particularly with the administration and the
experienced teachers. There were many reasons for such superﬁciality, and many
consequences in terms of Devi’s growth as a teacher. First, Devi remarked that she
was frustrated by her colleagues’ comments that she was lucky to be ”relaxing” and
not teaching, and yet earning her salary. Devi sensed that the comments were said
with good intentions, and that the teachers did not realize that her feelings differed
regarding the situation she was in. Devi‘talked to me about her enthusiasm to start
teaChing, an enthusiasm that found no avenue and which her colleagues seemed to be

oblivious of. She said, ”Beginner teachers and senior teachers used to say that (i.e.,

132

that she was fortunate to be earning her salary without having to work). I take it as
their intentions are good. . . . I know that they meant well.” I asked if she ever tried
to explain her frustration to her colleagues, and Devi replied:
To beginner teachers. . . . When we are in the same group, for them to
understand is much easier compared to the senior teachers. Because they’ve
been teaching so long, they won’t know how eager we are. . . . There’s one
senior teacher who’s willing to help me . . . . She was willing to let go her

English class, one class, to me, and she spoke about it to the headmistress.
. . . I haven’t talked about it to other teachers. (Fourth Interview, January 14,

1996)

Devi did not get to teach the English class mentioned in the above quote. Unlike the
other four beginning teachers who had a lot to talk about with experienced colleagues
(e. g., about classroom management, instruction, curricular changes, examinations,
and literacy activities), there were few topics that Devi could discuss meaningfully
with colleagues since she was without a permanent teaching schedule.

In many of our conversations, Devi had expressed strong views of the role of
the administration. She had often mentioned how crucial it was to have a strong
administrator even when she shared the nature of her seven months’ temporary
teaching experience in an urban school prior to entering the teachers’ college. She
admired the head’s leadership qualities in the school where she taught temporarily. In
her current school, however, her sentiments differed sharply. From her sharing, I
realized that her interactions with the administrators were also superﬁcial despite the
gravity of her situation. I asked Devi if she had shared her feelings with her
headmistress or with the senior assistants in the way that she shared with me, that is,

explicitly. Did she tell them that she badly wanted to teach? Did she express those

133

feelings to the administration. Her response, strangely, was, " No. Because I am
worried that they might think that you’re new . . . and you’re trying to show off. . . .
When you’re new, you’ve a bit reserved, resigned to do things." I continued with my
questioning: What if she took her time and politely gave her rationale why it would
be good for her to be able to teach? Devi remarked:

I don’t think it’ll do anything to the headmistress because . . . earlier when I

went and saw the headmistress about the transfer, we (i.e., some ”excess”

teachers) had clearly told her that, um, we really wanted to teach and, er,

we’d rather have a transfer than sitting down . . . but she just seemed to be

like not listening. (Fourth Interview, January 14, 1996)
I asked Devi whether she would have reacted differently to her situation if she were
an experienced teacher. And Devi responded, "I would deﬁnitely argue straight to the
point, and I wouldn’t be like this, keeping quiet. . . . I would . . . tell them . . . if
you want, you give me; if not I’m getting a transfer and going out.” There was
something intriguing about the identity of ”newness” in every one of my cases, but
Devi’s case seemed the most incapacitating. Devi mentioned that as she was new, she
did not want to jeopardize her job performance appraisal that would be done by the
administrators later on. Thus, she tolerated the uncertainties of her situation and did
not ”argue. "

One reason for examining the nature of interactions between Devi and her
colleagues, including the administrators, is to show how superﬁciality of interactions
impeded her growth. There were no meaningful discussions with the administrators

about the implications of her involuntary idleness on her growth as a teacher; neither

were there meaningful discussions on management or instructional matters with

134

experienced colleagues because these did not arise in the absence of a permanent
teaching schedule. Devi did not speak much of meaningful discussions with beginning
teachers either. This was understandable because her problems as a beginning teacher
naturally differed from those who already had permanent teaching schedules.

In the above account of the superﬁciality of interactions with colleagues, I
focused on informal interactions, meaning interactions that were outside of formal
meetings. Now, I describe how formal interactions within teacher committees were
minimal and had similar consequences as the superﬁcial and informal interactions
with colleagues.

Non-participation in suhiect panels. At the fourth interview, Devi
mentioned that one of the subjects that she might get to teach was mathematics. Devi
had not been a member of the mathematics panel, nor of other panels since it was
uncertain which subjects would ﬁnally end up on her teaching schedule. Non-
participation in panels could have inﬂuenced Devi’s perceptions that she had not
grown. While the four other teachers in the study would talk at some length about
learning about a variety of things through meaningful dialogue with colleagues or
through subject panel discussions-such as classroom management, instruction,
curricular changes, and examination formats--Devi could only hypothesize what would
happen if she had to teach mathematics instead of English. Her act of hypothesizing
indicated a predisposition to rely on her own self and her background knowledge of
instruction rather than on colleagues and subject panels:

I’d have to suit whatever I learned in English to mathematics, and I have to
see whether, you know, certain ideas, maybe only suitable for teaching

135

English . . . I wouldn’t know unless I try it out, right? . . . Maybe, maybe, I

can use the same idea but I have to change some of the things when I teach

maths; it’s applicable there. Maybe, when I’m teaching maths, I can learn
that, oh, there’re a few mistakes when I did this . . . so I have to adapt it and
change it some more. . . . I have to read more on how to teach mathematics.

(Fourth Interview, January 14, 1996)

Highlighting Devi’s act of hypothesizing achieves two things. First, it reinforces the
idea that Devi had had superﬁcial interactions with colleagues, and that few of the
interactions dealt with instructional or curricular matters such as the nature of panel
work. Second, it highlights the loss in learning about curriculum and instruction when
a beginning teacher is not a participating member of subject panels.

Devi mentioned at the round-table meeting in mid-February, 1996, that she
had a teaching schedule at last, but she was not given any English classes despite
TESL being her major. Instead, she was to teach an assortment of subjects. She
would eventually be a member of relevant subject panels. But because of the lateness
of such membership, I lost the opportunity to ﬁnd out if she valued the functions of
subject panels--and subject panelists--in the way that Jo, Viji, and Leela obviously
did.

Devi was the only one of the ﬁve teachers who answered ”yes" to the question
of whether they would apply for a transfer to another school at the end of the year, if
they were free to do so. She was the only one of the ﬁve teachers who felt that she
had not grown as a teacher.

To conclude, I return to my analogy. Although the kite that was stuck in the

branches of a tree was ﬁnally dislodged in the form of a permanent teaching schedule

for Devi just before the round-table conference, the nature of its ﬂight could not be

136

determined.
Variance

The ﬁve beginning teachers had a fairly common starting point: They had all
graduated from nationally standardized preservice programs lasting two and a half
years, and a nationally acknowledged professional knowledge base. In the case of four
of the teachers-Jo, Viji, Ruby, and Devi-experiences were markedly similar since
they were from the same college and cohort. In Leela’s case, coming from a college
in another state, experiences might have differed since curriculum guidelines allowed
some ﬂexibility for interpretation among instructors. Such differences, however, were
likely to be minor in view of periodic coordination efforts involving representatives of
all teachers’ colleges. Basically, all ﬁve teachers graduated from their programs with
similar theoretical knowledge of the principles and practice of TESL. Given a
common starting point of this nature, one might not expect dramatically contrasting
growth patterns among the ﬁrst-year teachers in a short space of time like the ﬁrst
quarter of the school year.

In the context of my study, I found the unexpected-dramatically contrasting
growth patterns. I provided instances of the remarkable but contrasting growth of four
teachers: Jo, Viji, Ruby, and Leela. ,I_Q mentioned growth in terms of learning to talk
and deal with people outside of her age group (i.e., students and parents, and senior
colleagues), and to ﬁt in with people of differing ways and ideas (i.e., colleagues).
Two vignettes provided testimony to such growth. _V_iﬁ, whose initial self-image was

that of a helpless "baby,” focused on growth in being more independent. Colleagues,

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either unwittingly (e. g., the refusal of the Discipline Teacher to assist her) or
intentionally (e. g., Puan Rozana who helped Viji in chairing her ﬁrst art panel
meeting), became instrumental in enabling her to achieve some self-reliance. Baby
deﬁned and sensed growth in terms of increased conﬁdence in herself, and such
growth was illustrated by the self-assured manner in which she talked about her
appointment and role as head of the computer room. Finally, gela looked at growth
in two ways, emotionally and intellectually; her growth in these two aspects was
evident in her ability to go beyond her self-professed shyness and inhibitions to take
center—stage as the lead Duty Teacher, and to interact meaningfully with colleagues in
both informal and formal situations, using them as resources to improve her
classroom practice. In direct contrast to all four, I also explained how Deli saw no
growth in herself, "growth" being deﬁned by her as ”changes . . . for the better.” As
I illustrated earlier, this was linked with the superﬁciality of formal and informal
interactions with her colleagues, including the administrators.

There are two ways of looking at the teachers’ growth patterns. Based on the
individual teachers’ unique and speciﬁc deﬁnitions of growth, it is obvious that the
beginning teachers’ growth patterns differed greatly. But on closer examination, there
was, at the same time, a strong similarity or convergence in their growth patterns as
well. It was this convergence that enabled me to conceptualize beginning teacher
growth in a way that applied to all ﬁve teachers, and I will share this eventually.
Before sharing this deﬁnition, however, I further explore how different their growth

patterns were by looking at the inﬂuence of the prefessieaal mmmanities the

138

beginning teachers came into contact with. Buttressed among supportive colleagues-~in
her metaphorical position of "a brick within a strong brick wall"--J_e was able to learn
and practice several skills (e. g., to talk and deal with different people, and to ﬁt in)
and consequently "grow.” Next, I look at _V_iji. In a metaphorical ”garden with
beautiful ﬂowers” (alluding to the warmth and thoughtfulness of Viji’s colleagues) and
"thorns” (alluding to the apathy of two administrators), Viji learned how to move in
that garden: She fully enjoyed and appreciated the beauty of the ﬂowers, but steered
clear of the thorns. In the process of learning to become a teacher, Viji saw herself
becoming more self-reliant. Baby described her growth in conﬁdence graphically:
Having for a long time seen herself as ”an incomplete drawing in black and white,”
reﬂecting her despondent mood during the ﬁrst three interviews, Ruby declared at the
round-table meeting that her drawing had some colors at last--the colorful paint
strokes of red, green, blue, and yellow being provided by some colleagues who had
begun to notice and respect her, thus opening up lines of communication. Finally,
gela described her colleagues in terms of mother, friend and buddy images, images
which matched the nurturing and supportive teacher community that she joined and
which enabled her to grow. Lastly, I pondered on Deyﬂs case. In the same way that
Devi was a contrast to the others in her conviction that she had not grown, Devi’s
response to the question of a collective metaphor for her colleagues contrasted with
the others: She said that she could not think of a metaphor, and this was despite the
question being the only one that was given beforehand for the purpose of the round-

table discussion. To summarize, the nature of growth perceived by each beginning

139

teacher was related to her perceptions of the enactment of collegiality.

I now return to a point that I raised earlier, that is, amidst the variance in their
growth patterns as teachers, there was an underlying convergence as well. I see
convergence in terms of their growth in two aspects. First, all started off with strong
beliefs about themselves, or about appropriate behaviors that they should assume in
their positions as ”new” teachers, or about behaviors that colleagues would
demonstrate, and, having interacted with colleagues for some time, thesebcjiefs
andegyent mgﬂiﬁcatien. Je believed that she should say little at the ﬁrst English panel
meeting, being a new teacher. But her colleagues prompted her to be an active
participant. Jo responded to their encouragement and assumed a different behavior
from the one she had planned. V_ii_i saw herself as a helpless ”baby” because she was
newly certiﬁed and also because the workplace was new to her, culturally. She
believed that she would have to depend heavily on others to show her what to do. But
circumstances, such as a Discipline Teacher who refused to intervene even when Viji
sought her help, changed Viji’s beliefs that she was a helpless, dependent person.
Baby had prior beliefs about the indifference of people who worked in Kuala Lumpur
based on her past work experience in the city. Later she changed her perceptions
about some of them, saw them as resources, and became more conﬁdent as a teacher.
Leela believed she would have difﬁculties ﬁtting into a school that used Tamil as the
primary medium of instruction since she had only oral ﬂuency in Tamil. She
anticipated problems ﬁtting into a professional community where most other teachers

would be teaching in Tamil whereas she would be using English. But the

140

circumstances that she encountered changed her prior beliefs: Teachers were friendly
and approachable, and functioned as important resources to draw on for improving
her practice within and outside the classroom.

Thus, the teachers started off with prior beliefs about themselves, or about
appropriate behaviors as new teachers, or anticipated certain behaviors from
colleagues. In discussing their growth as teachers with me, I noted that their prior
beliefs underwent modiﬁcation or change. (a) In Jo’s case, there was cliai_i2e_in
bereeptibas and behavior: She perceived that newness and reticence were not
inevitable partners, and she participated actively when prompted to contribute ideas to
the ﬁrst English panel discussion. (b) Viji’s colleagues did not allow her to hold on
to the persona of a baby for long. Her change in self-image was dramatic: Within
three months, she had already grown ﬁve years, according to her metaphors of
”baby” and "ﬁve-year-old child.” (c) Ruby held on to her beliefs about the
indifference of Kuala Lumpur people for quite a long while. Eventually, she
acknowledged that there were people in her workplace with whom she could talk or
receive suggestions. So great was her ehange in persbaal dispositien resulting from
some colleagues’ sudden awareness and interest in her as a new teacher that she
described some of her colleagues as ”colors” in her originally black-and-white self-
portrait. ((1) And, ﬁnally, Leela found herself coping conﬁdently with her
responsibilities in the Tamil school. Hers was primarily a ehﬂge in mhavibr: Leela
became more self-assured or less inhibited as she became acquainted with colleagues

and the school culture, and demonstrated this in conducting a school assembly

141

smoothly as well as in achieving some ease in communicating with other teachers for

purposes of improving her classroom practice. Based en Illi§ mnvergeng of meir
deﬁnitibns and bereebtibas of grbwth, I weuld deﬁne beginning teacher growth Q the
mgiﬁgtion bf a teacher’s original beliefs over time, manifested in a varith of

 

i l w ch in attitude kn wled e er tion tho ht ' em nt
behavibr, self-image, ad dispositibn.

A second feature of growth that seemed to be evident in all four cases was that
of softening, if not skirting, the ”sink-or-swim" (Lortie, 1975) experience of
beginning teachers. Much has been written in empirical studies or critical analyses
about the isolation of beginning teachers and the need to resolve problems on their
own, right from the start (Lortie, 1975; Featherstone, 1992; Smyth, 1992). A major
problem in the beginning months is classroom management. In my study, almost all
the teachers expressed difﬁculty in classroom management, though in varying
degrees. But, unlike studies of American teachers, they did not struggle unaided.
Some were rather adept at marshaling outside resources to help them overcome
problems of classroom management. These resources took the form of collegial
support, ranging from sharing accounts with teachers in informal situations to
counseling and direct intervention. Leela talked about having had conversations with
colleagues, having wondered if her students were noisy or acted in a certain manner
only when she was teaching them. Jo learned from conversations with old and new
teachers that all were facing the problem of how ”to control the boys." Jo sought

counsel from the second senior assistant, and observed how he communicated with

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boys who posed management problems. Both Jo and Viji requested intervention when
problems arose in their classrooms. The second senior assistant intervened in Jo’s
case, and a colleague helped Viji when the Discipline Teacher rejected her request for
intervention. Ofﬁcially, the second senior assistant, being in charge of student affairs,
is in a position to counsel or intervene, when necessary.

Further, in terms of growth in instruction, the beginning teachers were also
not in a situation of ”sink—or-swim." All four participated in subject panel discussions.
Jo, Viji, and Leela attributed growth, in part, to the subject panels: Jo learned to ﬁt
in by offering and receiving ideas in language teaching; Viji participated actively by
suggesting ideas for a language-rich environment to aid English language learning and
also learned to lead the art panel; and Leela learned about important curricular
changes as well as about her role in maintaining a question bank through the
functioning of the English panel in her school. Ruby mentioned both good and
undesirable things happening at a panel meeting. The ”good" was that she learned
about the availability of up-to-date instructional resources for English teachers, and
observed that the experienced teachers still made efforts to use audio-visual aids to
enhance their instruction. Thus, in both classroom management and instructional
matters, the four beginning Malaysian teachers’ growth was assisted by colleagues in
their schools. They escaped the direct effects of the ”sink—or-swim" experience that
most American ﬁrst-year teachers go through. Direct intervention (i.e., in
management matters) was one of the tools used. But, most of the time, beginning and

ewiperienced teachers resorted to the primary tool of dialogue. Such dialogue, both

I43

formal (such as panel discussions), and informal (such as conversational exchanges in
the common room), contributed to the education—-and thus, ”growth"-—of the
beginning teachers. The power of dialogue, primarily with colleagues, underlies each
of the beginning teachers’ growth in this study. Others have emphasized this point
powerfully:

When one adopts a sociocultural--as opposed to an individualistic--perspective

on education, talk, far from being an unimportant accompaniment to the real

business of learning and teaching, is seen to be a central and constitutive part
of every activity. In a very important sense, education is dialogue. (Wells and

Chang-Wells, 1992, p. 32)

So far, we have looked at perceptions of collegiality and their relation to
perceptions of growth within school contexts. But collegiality that happens outside the
school context itself deserves consideration. In connection with the preceding
statement, I invite my readers to walk with me as I reﬂect on my role as a colleague
to the beginning teachers when I shadowed them for three months. It was within this
collegial context that there was minimal variance in the enactment of collegiality since
all beginning teachers had me as a colleague. Quite interestingly, it was also in this
broader out-of—school collegial context that there was minimal variance in the
teachers’ perceptions of the nature of collegiality enacted, and the contributions of
such collegiality to their growth as teachers.

Growth Experiences in the Out-of School Collegial Context
I interviewed each of the teachers a total of six times, inclusive of the round-

table session, and also observed their teaching contexts. I perceived that being a good

questioner during the interviews was crucial, followed by being a good listener. I

144
literally spoke in questions during the interviews. In questioning the beginning
teachers, I made it a point not to take things for granted. Though we were fellow
Malaysians, I tried my best not to assume shared meanings for even the most
mundane vocabulary. I share part of the February 15 round-table conversation
focusing on the nature of my questioning:

Leela: She (Voon-Mooi) asked me a lot of whys and hows. . . .

Voon-Mooi: Would you have liked answers instead of questions?

Jo: . . . As I have told you . . . the answer lies within our answer,
you see. . . . It lies within myself. . . . It’s just that you had to
ask the whys and hows for it to come out to the surface. And
then you know that’s the answer. . . . Sometimes it’s frustrating

when you ask the whys and the hows . . . when you don’t give
answers.

Leela: . . . You go deeper and deeper. Sometimes I feel I have already
answered that. . . . Suddenly it comes out. There’re still some
things that I hadn’t said. . . . At the end when we say it out, it’s
new to us. Oh, that’s the answer!

I asked multiple questions of all the teachers, and gave answers or suggestions
only when solicited. In part, I was inﬂuenced by my past ﬁeld instructor experiences
in a preservice teacher education program where direct ”telling” was discouraged. I
was also inﬂuenced by an instructor in an education inquiry class who shared her
experiences in interviewing administrators and faculty members, cautioning the class
not to assume shared meanings for the words that interviewees used. Further, I was
inﬂuenced by the notion that the quality of the responses that I would get from others

would be the concomitant of the quality of questions that I asked. In other words,

thoughtful questions are likely to draw thoughtful responses. I learned this notion in a

..-.h.‘-

145
class on aesthetic appreciation of children’s literature. Thus, asking questions
mindfully was important to me. Based on the comments of my participants, I tended
to push their thinking through my questioning. I learned that some questions took
them by surprise, such as the question about self-images as beginning teachers:
Jo: When Mrs. Filmer (Voon-Mooi) asked me this question which was

many weeks ago, it took me a little while to think about it because
nobody had ever asked me,”What image did I have about myself (as a

teacher)?” Usually they would ask me . . .,"How do you feel about
going to school?" or ”What are your reactions . . .?" So it took me a
while. . . .

Leela: When Mrs. Filmer asked me what about the image, you know, I
thought of myself, I was at ﬁrst shocked and I could hardly ﬁnd the
words. . . . Iwas blinking at her. . . .

Jo: The ﬁrst time, you asked me I was shocked.

Viji: I don’t think I had ever had an image before that.

Jo: Did a question like this exist in our daily life? Later on, I keep thinking
of myself as other things. . . . I keep thinking, these images helped,
you know. It really helps. But if you did not ask us, if we did not meet
you, if we did not get into this program, we wouldn’t have thought of
them.

The teachers spoke very freely to me. I thought that I was very fortunate that I
somehow had stumbled upon very trusting teachers who would tell me things that they
said they would not tell others, not even their parents. At the round-table discussion,
it dawned on me that perhaps that was not the only reason why I faced no difﬁculties
getting the teachers to respond unreservedly to my questions. Ruby started saying that
it was connected to her perceptions of me as a person, "Maybe, it’s gifted you know.

Your facial expression is like . . . you’re very good in digging out" (Round-Table

Conference, February 15, 1996). The whole group of participants at the round-table

146

meeting burst out laughing at her hand gestures, though, in doing so, they managed to
convey their agreement. Ruby continued after the laughter subsided, with others
joining her:

Ruby: I just tell you some things which I never thought I’d share with
anybody.

Devi: It doesn’t even cross our mind to hide it from you.

Leela: We don’t feel embarrassed. . . . We don’t feel intimidated or . . .

Jo: . . . inferior.

Viji: We don’t think it’s a petty problem to talk about, you see.

The major point that I would like to share is that the teachers perceived my
collegial intervention, one I would characterize as passive and quiet, in almost
identical ways. There was little variance in their perceptions of my collegial
interactions with them. Primarily, they said that I was a good listener. To them, it
seemed a crucial quality in a colleague. It struck me that, often, that might be what
they needed most-somebody to listen to them whole-heartedly and mindfully. It
fulﬁlled an emotional need, particularly relevant in Devi’s frustrating situation:

Devi: I learned a lot. People always praise me that I’ve a lot of patience, but
I feel that lately I’ve been losing some of it. So when I saw you,
you’ve been very patient. And you’re very soft spoken. I like the way
you approach us, the way you talk when you want to get things out of
us. It’s like you are not rushing. You put it in a correct manner. . . .
You’re a very good friend because, normally, we have friends of our
age. But now we have a friend who’s older, who knows a lot . . .

Viji: . . . and understands our problems . . .

Devi: . . . who has gone through what we have gone through. You’re so
many steps higher. We can learn a lot from you and we have learned a

147

lot from you. This is all helping us emotionally, you know. It releases
us somehow. We feel relieved. . . . We freely let out everything.

Her sister, Leela, agreed, ”. . . feels like just letting . . . just pouring it out of me. .
. . You feel relieved. . . . No more tension. No more pressure. There’s no more
burden, that worries you. Everything’s out.” I could not resist, "But the problem
remains with you, though. Right?" And Leela responded spontaneously, ”But we’re
sharing it with somebody who . . . understands. It lessens the burden.”

Jo joined in at this point, telling the co-participants about her problems with
one particular colleague and how sharing her story with me helped her in terms of
relieving some tension:

. . . you’re relieved that there’s someone to listen to us. . . . For example,
that incident that happened in the school. I did not talk about it to anyone, you
know. I just explained everything to you. Even my mother, I did not say
exactly what it is. You’re the person who we’re telling everything to in the
sense that you know what has happened in our schools, in our lives as
teachers. . . . Nobody else we’ve shared . . . not even our friends. . . .
You’ve been there, those crucial moments in our teaching careers. You’ve
been there with us. I think it’s a great honor you’ve got to know ﬁve people’s
crucial times.

It was Viji’s turn to talk about her own miserable situation at school and her
"emotional struggle” in dealing with her professional problems:

. . . I was waiting for you these past few days after it happened. . . . I was
very relieved that I would meet you in the afternoon, you know. And I
couldn’t wait to see you, and talk to you and tell you everything. So after I
told you everything, you noticed that in the car I was much more active. . . . I
was having a lot of emotional struggle inside me, and after I told you
everything, you never told me, "Be patient.” . . . This is what I’ve got from
everyone, even my father. . . . He said, "No, you’re new, you’ve to be
patient.” You never said that, you just listened. You never told me. I know I
have to be patient. . . . All I want to do is I want to tell you how I feel, and
just listen, you see. And you listened. . . . And you listened and I felt better.

148

Devi, the older of the sisters, rejoined the conversation, reminding the group
about her unenviable situation without a permanent teaching schedule:

Most of the time I also feel that I have to be patient so normally I don’t tell

pe0ple the problems that I go through. But, at times, you just have to tell it to

somebody who just wants to listen and understand. But you know . . . not to
comment back and not to tell you back that it’s a ”normal" problem. . . . You
want a person who knows you’re telling it because you want to let it out.
And Viji was in full agreement in view of her own situation, "When someone tells
you, ’Oh, it’s a normal problem.’ It is normal for you, not for me."

The teachers felt that the conversations they had with me contributed to their
growth as teachers in the following way: All had started journeys of self—discovery.
They discovered interesting qualities that they did not know they possessed before. In
the case of Leela, she learned that she had overcome her shyness as a result of having
had hours of conversation with me. I was not the cause, but perhaps I provided an
opportunity for things to happen:

I felt like I was in the center of a circle, didn’t know my way out, you know.

. . . Yes, I am trapped and I wouldn’t know how to take a ﬁrst step. . . . Now

I’m already breaking out and I’m able to do whatever I want. I am conﬁdent

being myself. I’m conﬁdent and ﬁrm. I ﬁnd a lot of qualities in myself that I

never knew I had, you know. . . . It has really helped me a lot and I’m glad.

Jo and Viji also perceived growth as teachers, and this was reﬂected in the
new ways that they started thinking about people, and interacted with them. They
discovered that they could empathize, that they could see things from another view.
Jo discovered her ability to empathize even when she felt that she was not in the

wrong. She further discovered that she reﬂected before acting:

I’m more focused. . . . I think before I react. For example, with Miss Uma,
when she ﬂared up, I was very calm. It was very surprising. If it had

I49

happened in another place, in college, I’m known for a sharp tongue--I would
have given it back to her. But then I just controlled myself and listened to her
very rationally, let her have her say. . . . And I just listened to her, "I’m
sorry", that’s all, "but it’s not my fault.” You’ve helped me to think, reﬂect,
and in some ways to become a very patient person, and also to look at the
other side of things, be it good or be it bad. Look at the other side, don’t take
it for granted.

It was very similar in Viji’s case. She grew in the sense that she started
discovering more about herself, especially how she had thought about the actions of
colleagues:

Another thing is that you kind of, like, helped us to appreciate other people as
well, like people who helped us. . . . When someone does something for me,
last time I’d have just thought, maybe that’s her nature, you know, but now I
seem to reﬂect--oh, they did that for me? Me, a new teacher, and they can do
that for me? . . . Like what Puan Rozana did for me. . . . I really appreciated
her . . . and I always felt I have to come back and write about her. . . . I
want to hold that memory of her helping me. If it had not been for this
program, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. I mean like . . . maybe, it’s her
job to help me, that’s what I would have thought.

One last thing in relation to the issue of out-of-school collegiality that we are
exploring here was simultaneously distressing and heartening. It began with Jo’s
comment that she had found a listener in me, but now that the study was approaching
closure, she had a major question: "But the question now is, you know . . . as for
me, I’ve been very attached to you. What’s going to happen to me? . . . Suddenly I
feel . . . I’m sad, I don’t know, shall I cry or what? . . . What should I do after
this?” Viji made it harder by adding the following comments:

To be very speciﬁc, I think all of us are feeling sad and upset. And lost. At

this moment, most of us are still having lots of problems in school. And it’s

crucial. Suddenly, like somebody that you could always turn to and tell and
talk about it and come back and pour out our feelings in all the logs that we

write-suddenly, it’s like coming to an end, you know. After this, what am I
going to do? I’m stuck.

150

I was distressed. I wanted to say, ”It’s time to test your wings on your own.” But I

said nothing. Leela did not make it any easier:
At ﬁrst, when I was trying to write down what I feel, you know, since the
project is due to end, and I was struggling. I didn’t know how to put it down.
The only thing that I can ﬁnd that I can express myself with is--I’m lost, I’m
just lost. . . . I just don’t know how to express myself. It’s a mixture of
feelings. Sad, you know. Happy for you. You don’t have to travel up and
down the country. . . . Sad because we’re going to miss our very good friend,
a shoulder to cry on, a person you can rely on. . . . Even though I’m going to
keep on writing reﬂections, but . . . but I need someone to share with. Who?
I felt I had started something in motion, but could not continue delivering. I had
helped them reﬂect critically on their thoughts and actions as teachers through my
critical questioning. But spontaneous self-questioning and self-reﬂection were
preferable, and there was not enough time for them to learn that effectively. I became
acutely aware of the limits of my helping them to learn, and I felt bad. But at that
moment, Ruby, who had been rather pensive, came to my rescue. She told Leela that
she had them now, pointing to each participant and counting, one, two, three, four:
All of us are sharing very personal details with Mrs. Filmer. We know her
very well. After this, we’re not going to do this thing again. (Addressing
Leela) You said, "I wonder after this--who am I going to talk to?” Since all of
us share something, . . . why don’t you come to us if you don’t want to come
to your sister?
And Leela, it needs to be noted here, was newly acquainted with the group (except
for Devi, of course). There was the possibility, if not the promise, of a support group
for her, comprising the others who were old friends.
Growth Experiences in the Out-of School Collegial Context: A Reflection

In the preceding section on growth experiences in the out-of-school collegial

context, I focused primarily on the perceptions of the beginning teachers. We heard

151

their voices about how (a) the questions that I asked made them think deeper and
come up with their own answers; (b) they spoke unreservedly in my interviews with
them; (c) there was little variance in their perceptions of my collegial interactions
with them; and (d) how, in terms of teacher growth, all had started journeys of self-
discovery as a result of critically reﬂecting on themselves. It was their voices that I
wanted to share. Yet, because so much of their reﬂections involved the role that I
played as an out-of-school colleague, I ﬁnd a need to share my voice as well.

The remarkable ease that I experienced in talking with all the ﬁve beginning
teachers could hardly have been a result of coincidence or luck. I puzzled over what it
was that allowed the conversations to proceed without much reservation or discomfort
on the part of the teachers. I was a stranger to the teachers when I started, and they
to me. Where they were, on a hypothetical hierarchy, was very far from where I was,
considering that I had been in the teaching service for a long time. Devi had said,
”You’re so many steps higher.” Further, Jo mentioned that I was pursuing a doctoral
degree, probably a big achievement in itself, from her perspective. Jo described the
distance separating the beginning teachers and me, on that imaginary hierarchy:
”There are a lot of factors that could have made us got talk to you. That you did not
lecture (i.e., teach) us, and also you’re doing a doctorate, you know.” Yet, we
communicated well. To emphasize the point, Jo said that when their own college
"lecturers,” meaning instructors, went to see them in the ﬁeld, and they were just
”nearby," there seemed a gap between them. The following overlapping conversation

makes this clearer:

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Jo: The best part is that, the thing that, I mean, you’re so far away from
us, is it didn’t make a diff. . .

Viji: . . . difference.

Jo: When our lecturers come, although they are just nearby, but there’s

Leela: . . . there’s a gap.

JO: . . . a gap. They’re superior to us. We’re a bit inferior. That’s what I
feel. But you’re already further than them, you see. There are a lot of
factors that could have made us get talk to you. That you did not
lecture (i.e., teach) us, and also you’re doing a doctorate, you know.
So these are the factors. . . . Although you had these with you, we did
not keep that as a barrier to talk. . . .

Ruby: Maybe because you said, I learn something from you and you learn
something from me. We’re growing together. That’s what made us
reassured.

College ”lecturers” or instructors are generally held in high regard by student
teachers. There is usually a formal distance between instructors and student teachers.
It is part of the local culture. Most college instructors function as ﬁeld instructors as
well. I use the term "ﬁeld instructor” as a result of American inﬂuence. In the
Malaysian context, they are called ”supervisors," a term that, in itself, already
denotes a formal distance between the two parties. Supervisors perform many roles, a
major one being evaluation. They have to turn in grades which differentiate student
performances in the ﬁeld. Although the present push is toward a more equitable form
of ﬁeld supervision, focusing on more symmetrical dialogue (Tannen, 1990) between
supervisors and ﬁeld students, evaluation remains a differentiating factor between the

two parties. Further, evaluation is primarily based on planning and achievement of

lesson objectives, much less on student teachers’ ability to self-evaluate and self-

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reﬂect.

I did not ﬁt the description of a ”college lecturer" or "ﬁeld supervisor.”
Despite my designation as a ”lecturer," I was not teaching; I was a full-time student. I
was clearly not there to supervise or evaluate either. That had been made explicit. I
believe that the teachers viewed me as having an afﬁnity with them. Not only was I
there to grow with them, I was, literally, a student. But they also perceived me as

having some useful knowledge about learning to teach. I heard them say, ”But now

we have a friend who’s older, who knows a lot . . .," ". . . and understands our
problems . . .," " . . . who has gone through what we have gone through," and ". .
. we’re sharing it with somebody who . . . understands."

The unusual combination of "knower" and ”learner” in me affected the way
they thought about me and interacted with me. They had all wanted to continue
"learning." Some hoped to go for university studies one day. Most thought that they
might, in some ill-deﬁned way, move nearer to their goals of learning or furthering
their studies by being associated with me:

Leela: At ﬁrst, why want to do this? The extra work . . . but the look on her
(Voon-Mooi’s) face, the eagerness. . . . If I want to further my studies,
this is going to help me a lot, you know, interviews and all that. . . .
The thing that made me go for it was you. You yourself. . . .

Jo: . . . Just watching you has motivated us. . . . You’ve talked to me on a
personal basis, about yourself, what you’ve done . . . overseas. . . .
It’s inside me. If she who’s married--and you have two children,
husband, a family, a career here, and you’re in the US, doing your
doctorate. All this indirectly motivates, I’m sure, all of us . . . not to
achieve a doctorate, but a step higher than we (are).

Viji: I can still very much remember what you were saying and there was
one statement which you said that made me decide that, Okay, I’ll sign

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up for this. You said that this will be chance for us to grow together, I
can still remember that. I thought, maybe . . . I could learn a lot from
this. . . .

Jo: As for me, because when I got into it, I like the same quote that Viji
has used. You told us that we’re going to grow together. That’s what I

like most. . . . Ybu’re not there to evaluate me, you see.

It seemed crucial that I was not an evaluator. In a context where grades were
important, that position would probably have differentiated us and imposed a distance
in terms of communication. They seemed comfortable telling me about their failures
as well as successes, their frustrations as well as memorable moments. They seemed
to have great trust in me. There were instances when I became protective of them,
and told them, "You don’t have to tell me this, you know." And they would react
with an expression on their faces that seemed to say, "But I want to."

I did not visit their schools till mid-way into the study because, although I had
clearance from the Ministry of Education, there were delays in gaining access into
schools at lower levels. After I visited the schools, the teachers gave me feedback
about their being in the "limelight” for a day or two. Ruby spoke of a perception of
increased respect for her by experienced colleagues. Some colleagues jumped to the
conclusion that she had been singled out for such a study because she "must have
been a very good student teacher” before. Jo was teased and complimented by Mrs.
Diana and Mr. Chan, the second senior assistant, based on some things which I had
said in my interviews with them. I felt no qualms about consciously representing my
participants well when I visited their schools, but I very much doubt that the indirect

beneﬁts some received from my visits was a contributory factor to the spontaneity of

155

their interactions with me. All the school visits coincided with the fourth round of
interviews when I was already at the mid-point of the data collection period. A close
rapport with the teachers had already been established by then. At most, my visits to
their schools and my conversations with their colleagues afﬁrmed that I genuinely had
their interests at heart.

Thus, this is how I perceived the situation to be: I was perceived as one from
a position at least as high as the college lecturers that they have had. Ordinarily, that
should have imposed a formal distance. But I had never taught them. That might have
made them feel that they could tell me things, and I would not have their past
histories as student teachers to confound my views about them as beginning teachers.
Further, they recognized that I had some knowledge about learning to teach--that I
was not just an interviewer or researcher. Next, I had also assured them from the ﬁrst
interview that they could stop participating at any point. Most importantly, as Jo said,
I was not there to evaluate them. Collectively, these features of my position could
have contributed to the spontaneity of their interactions with me.

They could have perceived some beneﬁts from active participation. I provided
the opportunity of a temporary mentor to them. In providing temporary support
outside of the workplace, there was no risk that I would differentiate them from their
colleagues as being less knowledgeable or less capable. Without this implicit
guarantee of non-differentiation from their colleagues, there might have been
difﬁculties in my dialogues with them (Taylor, 1965; Featherstone, 1992; Wallace &

Louden, 1994). I was a temporary mentor, but I also provided them with control over

156

their situations. This, also, is deemed crucial in mentoring or beginning teacher
studies (Taylor, 1965). They saw me as friend and conﬁdant, not as supervisor and
judge. I freed them to make their own decisions regarding their roles and
responsibilities as teachers, as well as to develop their particular conceptual
orientations about what being a teacher meant.

My task was not to grade but to listen, not to intervene but to be available
should they need more than a mindful listener. I was, in a sense, the ”more
knowledgeable other" who mediated in the learning of the beginning teacher (Feiman-
Nemser, Rosaen, Grinberg, I-Iarris, Parker, Schwille, Denyer, Jennings & Presley,
1994; Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1992). But there is a unique feature; it is the
beginning teacher, not me, who decided whether, how, and when she needed
mediation.

I did not report to a headmaster or any other ofﬁcial authority. I asked
questions and I listened. I allowed the preservation of a number of features that
teachers hold dear: autonomy, non-differentiation among colleagues, and the freedom
to develop fully their own conceptual orientations toward the nature of teacher
knowledge (Louden & Wallace, 1994). I allowed the teachers to be themselves, to let
off steam and know they would not be reported to anyone, to tell their insecurities to,
and to confess failure without fear that it would appear on a job performance
appraisal form. In a nutshell, I was nbn-tbteatening, a most crucial qualiﬁer in any
mentor (Taylor, 1965).

My reﬂection serves two important purposes in the context of this study. First,

157

it sets our minds thinking about some similar supportive services that we can make
available to beginning teachers when they negotiate the hazardous border separating
the secure and predictable nature of preservice teacher education in teachers’ colleges
and the unpredictable features and circumstances of workplace environments. Thus, it
adds to the urgent proposals that others have made to make beginning teacher life less
isolated, less bewildering, and less traumatic (Johnson & Ryan, 1980; Krasnow,
1993; Yusoff, 1990; Smyth, 1992).

Second, my reﬂection implies that hierarchical differences such as those
existing between the teachers and me did not stand in the way of collegial interactions
and beginning teacher growth. This assumption applies to the unique position that I
found myself in. But as we think further, another issue is raised: What about the
enactment of collegiality within hierarchies in the beginning teachers’ schools?
Researchers have often problematized the practice of collegiality, describing it even as
being "capricious" (Wallace & Louden, 1994), and more so if attempted within

hierarchical structures. It is this issue that I explore in the next chapter.

CHAPTER 5

COLLEGIALITY WITHIN HIERARCHIES

Introduction

I used the analogy of kites in ﬂight in the previous chapter to capture the
essence of the ﬁve beginning teachers’ journeys amidst their colleagues during their
ﬁrst few months in the ﬁeld. Analogies are useful for that reason: to capture the
essence or ﬂavor of an experience. But it fails at another level: to truly explore and
feel the complexities, intricacies, and implications of experiences that individuals have
gone through. In this chapter, therefore, I attempt to reach the latter goal by focusing
in depth on two of the teachers, Jo and Viji.

Besides being from the same cohort of student teachers, Jo and Viji were
ofﬁcially "teaching partners" during their practica (i.e., ”student teaching”) in
Semester III and Semester V. Being teaching partners meant that they were assigned
to the same schools for their ﬁeld experiences, and they were expected to be a
resource to each other. They could observe each other teach, critique each other’s
performances and ideas, and be partners in learning in other ways. In short, Jo and
Viji were the two teachers in my pool of ﬁve who had the most similar preservice
ﬁeld experiences in terms of interactions with colleagues. This was a strong common

base from which to start. I reasoned that if I had two teachers with preservice ﬁeld

158

159

experiences in the same workplace environments, then if they made comparisons to
past collegial (or non-collegial) experiences, they would be using a reasonably
common yardstick. Had they come from preservice sites where the workplace
environments were dramatically different, their past collegial interactions could have
predisposed them to react to new environments with different biases.

Further, Jo and Viji taught in two contrasting schools: Jo taught in a large,
urban school, and Viji in a small, rural school. Christian missionaries started and
managed Jo’s school for a long time. Though Christian missionaries no longer
controlled the school, certain collegial traditions remained like a teacher welfare
organization that regularly collected funds to demonstrate solidarity among teachers
(e. g., for occasions like weddings and farewells). Many of the students came from
afﬂuent homes.

In contrast, Viji’s school was relatively new. Viji estimated the student
population to be around 300. Most were children of ﬁshermen and laborers whose
earnings were very low compared with parents in Jo’s school. Several of the children
lived with their grandparents. Less than ten had television sets at home. Thus, unlike
Jo’s context where students often viewed English television programs, students in
Viji’s school had no such inclinations.

The contrasting contexts of Jo and Viji’s schools provided the promise of
interesting webs of social and professional interactions involving Jo and Viji as they
departed from a common history of preservice collegial experiences into new and

more permanent sites. The availability of such contrasting research sites enriches us

160

with opportunities to learn from wide-ranging experiences.

With regard to the two stories, I share Jo and Viji’s ﬁrst impressions of three
groups of colleagues--administrators, experienced teachers, and fellow beginning
teachers--based on their ﬁrst few days at school, and show how these impressions
changed or remained constant over time. My telling of these two stories comprises the
ﬁrst section of this chapter.

But it is not their stories per se that is my focus. Although very compelling, I
perceive these stories primarily as a vehicle for me to do something more: to tell the
deeper story behind their stories. This deeper story, emerging from a comparison and
contrast of Jo and Viji’s workplace experiences with colleagues, has the following
backdrop: a three-tier hierarchy of colleagues. Interactions with colleagues occupying
the three tiers, namely the administrators, experienced colleagues, and fellow
beginning teachers, had a great impact on the beginning teachers’ professional lives.
With such a backdrop, this deeper story identiﬁes three major dimensions of
collegiality in response to the question: What emerges as deﬁning collegiality? This
deeper story makes up the second section of the chapter.

In the third and ﬁnal section of the chapter, I situate my stories in the context
of collegiality and teacher induction research, highlighting some contributions to the
ﬁeld. I now begin with my telling of Jo’s story.

Jo’s Story

A Fbghadbwing

The image of my colleagues has not changed from the beginning to the end. .
. . I feel it’s a brick wall. . . . The togetherness that we feel in my school is .

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. . we’re very strong when we’re together. We are cemented; these bricks are
very well cemented. (Round-Table Conference, February 15, 1996)

"A strong, brick wall." Through the duration of this study, Jo shared these
words often, capturing the impressions that she had of her colleagues. But it was an
image that stood in sharp contrast to her expectations and fears before reporting as a
ﬁrst-year teacher at Xavier Primary School. Since the school was a prominent one
and situated in Kuala Lumpur, the country’s capital and biggest city, Jo feared that
her future colleagues would be unfriendly. Despite her expectations and fears, Jo
dared to hope for the improbable, a close-knit collegial community. The reality,
captured in Jo’s image of her colleagues as a strong brick wall, came close to her
dreams.

I use the following framework to tell Jo’s story. I begin by discussing Jo’s
ﬁrst impressions of three categories of colleagues: administrators, experienced
teachers, and fellow beginning teachers. Second, I examine change or constancy in
her impressions of colleagues through the ﬁrst three months in the ﬁeld, and the
impact of interactions with colleagues on her life as a teacher.

Im i f ll

When Jo ﬁrst went to Kindergarten and then Year 1, her mother did not
accompany her to school. But when Jo reported for work as a ﬁrst-year teacher, her
mother accompanied her. Jo shared this information in an amused way. According to
Jo, her mother, a retired teacher, was curious. That, in turn, made me curious: Was
that the only reason why her mother accompanied Jo, a newly certiﬁed 23-year-old

teacher, to school? But I was newly acquainted with Jo then. So I did not ask. But I

162

remembered my own thumping heart as I sat, two decades ago, anxious and very
much alone, in the passenger space of a traditional "trishaw,” making my way to my
ﬁrst school to report for my ﬁrst teaching position.

Jo was pleasantly surprised by the events of her ﬁrst day at school. It was
nothing like her expectations, almost everything like her hopes of what a workplace
could be like: ”I had this thought that if it’s a KL school . . . teachers are not going
to be friendly . . . but . . . they welcomed me with open arms" (Entry Interview,
December 18, 1995).

Three categories of colleagues entered Jo’s life simultaneously. Jo talked
excitedly about what she learned about these colleagues: ﬁrst, the administrators; then

the experienced teachers; and, ﬁnally, fellow beginners at the profession that she

loved.
emerges

The ﬁrst person that Jo met on her ﬁrst day at work was Puan Mariana,
Senior Assistant 1. On the school administrative set-up, Puan Mariana was second in
seniority to the headmaster. Jo recalled Puan Mariana’s efforts to make her feel that
she was part of a ”family,” reminding her that the three administrators were
approachable:

I met the senior assistant ﬁrst. . . . I was very surprised to see a person like
her. She was very friendly . . . . She welcomed me and my mother. My
mother followed me on the ﬁrst day. It was very embarrassing, right? But she
welcomed both of us with open arms. . . . She went on explaining . . . small
things I thought people would not notice. . . . The very important thing that
she told us which I like to quote is that we are here as a family. . . . She

meant the teaching staff. ”We ate here as a family. . . . If tbere’s ar_iytl_iing,
game and see as.” That’s what she said. . . . For a person who’s very fresh

 

163

and new . . . that line meant so much to me. (Entry Interview, December 18,
1995)

Jo mentioned that it was important to her to know that the door was open if she
needed to speak with the administrators.

Jo expressed being pleasantly surprised by the many events of her ﬁrst day at
work. First, Puan Mariana took the seven beginning teachers on a tour of the school.
Next, the two other administrators, both men, also welcomed them. She learned that
Mr. Chan, Senior Assistant 2 (i.e., third in seniority in the school), was in charge of
student affairs. The two senior assistants, together with the headmaster, Mr. Tan,
collectively met with the seven beginning teachers on their ﬁrst day at work. Jo
described the atmosphere of that ﬁrst meeting in favorable terms:

They were very open. They were telling us . . . the dos and don’ts. . . . They

highlighted that parents in KL are very particular, so don’t touch the children

and so on. . . . They were very open in saying that, you know, we’re here to
learn....Pl e m hen uhven ....Itwasvery
nice of him (i.e., the headmaster). I ﬁnd that he’s a very easy going person
whom you can talk to. I did not feel threatened by his position . . . . I just felt
that, oh, he’s just another teacher like us and I could go to him any time.

(Entry Interview, December 18, 1995)

Thus, Puan Mariana’s earlier message to Jo about the approachability of the
administrators was repeated, this time by the headmaster himself: ”Please come to us
when you have any doubts. " It was a reassuring conﬁrmation of Puan Mariana’s
sincerity that the beginning teachers could approach the administrators, if the need
arose.

Interestingly, however, Jo commented that the headmaster, despite his

friendliness, would probably be the last Person that she would consult in case she

164
needed help. The assurance that he was approachable did not, therefore, mean that Jo
would do that except in the most serious of circumstances. This decision seemed
connected with his position as head of the hierarchy in school. Jo explained:

Well, we wouldn’t want to go to him. Maybe I don’t want to trouble him . . .

to me maybe this problem is such a big problem; to him it’s such a petty

problem, I think. Because he has a lot of things to see to, besides the

discipline of pupils. . . . I think he’ll be the last person that I’d approach. . . .

But . . . on the ﬁrst day, he opened the lines of communication. (Entry

Interview, December 18, 1995)

The school administrators, comprising the headmaster and the two senior
assistants, featured as one important group of colleagues to Jo. It was also an
important group for me to talk with. It was this group that I ﬁrst spoke with when I
visited Jo’s school mid-way into the study. I had gone to the ofﬁce unannounced. I
had expected some formality, but there was pleasantly no red tape other than
acknowledging my identiﬁcation papers. The headmaster was not in, and the two
senior assistants entered into a friendly debate about whom I should interview.
Finally, they said that I could jointly interview them-~that we could have a three-way
conference-and that they had no objections to the interview being audio-taped. The
ofﬁce was a hive of activity, but they generously gave me their time. In the midst of
the interview, which took place in the second senior assistant’s room, the headmaster
came in. We were introduced and he asked us to proceed. He left the room quietly.
Right after the interview, I went to the headmaster’s ofﬁce. Mr. Chan, the second
senior assistant, followed shortly afterward. There was a casual conversation among

the three of us, part of which touched on who I was, and life in the United States. I

liked the easy atmosphere. The hospitality of Jo’s colleagues matched Jo’s

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descriptions of their friendly personalities.
E ri T

In addition to administrators, a second category of colleagues entered Jo’s life.
These were the experienced teachers. Based on her ﬁrst week at school, Jo remarked
that they made her feel like a full-ﬂedged teacher, like an ”accepted" member of the
group. Jo perceived that they looked upon her as one with competence; she felt that
she had graduated from the less competent positions of "trainee" and "practicum”
teacher:

They really treat us very well. Maybe . . . now they acknowledge us as

teachers. . . . During our practicals, they (i.e., colleagues) still think we’re

not capable of handling things. But here, we’re given tasks to do and handle as
teachers. . . . I don’t have that inferiority complex compared to what I had
during our practicals. . . . Here they did not label me as ﬁrst-year teacher. Of
course, the ﬁrst day, they were teasing us, ”Fresh from college, fresh from
college," until I asked them, ”You all make us sound as though we’re biscuits
out of the oven or something like that." They just laughed. . . . Well, I was
meaning that they accepted me as a person. They referred to me as Miss Jo.

They did not refer to me, ”Oh, the practicum teacher or the trainee." . . . I’m

a teacher. They acknowledge the fact that I’m trained. And I can do things.

(Entry Interview, December 18, 1995)

Jo recalled some pleasant events involving her and the experienced teachers
that ﬁrst week: a compliment that a colleague made on her chalkboard writing; the
unexpected invitation that the English language panel head extended to her to
accompany the latter and nine school boys to the Memorial Library for a story-telling
event; the assurance that the ﬁrst senior assistant, Puan Mariana, gave her that similar
educational opportunities would be available, seeing how much Jo had enjoyed the

story-telling event; and her growing relationship with Mrs. Diana, a very experienced

English teacher, who would, with Jo, jointly run the English Language Society. Mrs.

166
Diana had loaned her an old teachers’ record book to use as a guide. Jo greatly
appreciated it since she knew that record books were personal documentations of work
within the classroom. Jo had mentioned that her mother’s record book was missing,
and how upsetting the loss was to her mother.

I now move on to Jo’s ﬁrst impressions of her fellow beginning teachers.
Fellbw B_e2!’m_iiag Teaehers

The third group of colleagues, fellow beginning teachers, also contributed to
Jo’s initial happiness. Collectively, the seven of them looked out for one another.
Their bond was facing problems associated with the identity of newness. Jo remarked,
"I ﬁnd that among the ﬁrst-year teachers . . . whom I mix a lot with because we’re
having the same problems . . . we clear our doubts with them.” There was a self-
consciousness about Jo, a concern that she ﬁtted in with this special group:

The ﬁrst-year teachers told me, ”Hey, you’re very nice, you know, very easy

going. You’re very jovial, you’re very cheery." . . . So that was a very nice

thing for them to tell me, you know. . . . ”You’re very active, you know.

You’re very nice to talk to.” So it was very comforting. . . . I keep saying to

myself, "Okay, you’re on the right track." . . . I’m on the right track. (Entry

Interview, December 18, 1995)

Experiencing similar problems was a strong bond. Much of their initial
difﬁculty dealt with learning the ropes, such as completing mundane administrative
tasks and paperwork. From the perspective of beginning teachers like Jo, however,
what might be mundane to experienced teachers had serious implications for them.
They feared that not knowing mundane things could reﬂect badly on them as teachers:

This is what, generally, ﬁrst-year teachers are experiencing. . . .We feel

there’s lack of knowledge about the documents that we have to handle. For
example, the class register, the record books, and so on. These ate very

167

im nt in . . . . I’m very frustrated in the sense there’s so much to be
done which I don’t know how to do. I’ve to keep on asking people. . . . I’ve
to trouble my mother. . . . When we were doing our practicals . . . we
handled the record book in a very different manner. . . . Here, it’s different. .
. . We don’t know what it is we have to write. Although we’re following,
we’re copying, but we don’t know why we’re doing that. . . . Why didn’t I
know more about this? Why can’t I do this? Why must I do this? . . . I feel
embarrassed to keep on going asking Puan Mariana about this, or Mr. Chan
about this. They might just turn round and think, ”What did they actually learn
in college?” (Entry Interview, December 18, 1995)

Their common problems with class registers and teachers’ record books
provided a ermuctive bond for the beginning teachers: They started cooperating
among themselves by mutually exchanging suggestions. Jo saw themselves as ”being
in the same boat,” creating the idea that they were a group going on a journey
together, perhaps facing the same ”dangers. " This ﬁgurative expression was the most
often used by the beginning teachers:

So, we as ﬁrst-year teachers, we discuss whether we’re going to do this or

we’re going to do that. We help one another, especially about the register . . .

and the record book. . . . They give me suggestions and I give them

suggestions. So the attitude among us--we’re very easy going, we have fun, we

cling together . . . we’re having the same doubts and fears. We are happy
over certain things . . . we can work together, we always co-operate among

one another. . . . We’re in the same beat, as I’ve put it. (Entry Interview,

December 18, 1995)

Among these beginning teachers, Jo was closest to Rena. Though total
strangers before, they quickly became friends. Their personalities matched. Further,
and perhaps more importantly, a strong binding factor was that they were both TESL
majors. Jo had learned from an administrator that another fresh TESL graduate was

joining the school and waited for her on the ﬁrst day of school. The moment Rena

arrived, Jo could hardly stop talking. Below, we listen to lo and Rena’s voices

168

regarding their ﬁrst meeting in separate interviews. The symmetry is fascinating:

Rena is very easy-going. . . . I was very early in the school. . . . I was

talking to her and welcoming her as though I was a staff there. . . . Her

character and nature is somewhat like me so we’re of the same wave-length, I

feel. We like the same things. . . . There’re lots of things that we have in

common. . . . She’s like an old friend to me. . . . I’m very happy here. I just
cannot say in words, you know, that I found somebody who thinks and talks
like me, and behaves like me. . . . We laugh at the same mistakes, we laugh
at the same things, and we laugh at the same things that the pupils do. (Jo,

Entry Interview, December 18, 1995)

I met her (Jo) on my ﬁrst day here. . . . She had this very bright smile the

moment she saw me. She said, "So you’re Rena?” I was stunned. . . . It’s nice

to see another person who’s also an English teacher because I was thinking I

would be the only one here. . . . Immediately, we became friends. (Rena,

Interview, January 15, 1996)

People have differing beliefs about ﬁrst impressions: First impressions--you
never go wrong with them; ﬁrst impressions are unreliable; ﬁrst impressions are
deceptive. As I left Jo after the entry interview, I wondered how well she had read
her colleagues. Her childlike joy: Would it last? Her enthusiasm: Could she sustain
it? The collegial environment: Would it prevail?

P ti ofoll”Ar Tim; h

Jo and I talked again after her second week in school, and subsequently at
intervals of about two to three weeks. She made interesting comments about collegial
interactions involving the three groups of colleagues. But before I relate these
developments, there is a detour that Jo would have wished us to take as I tell her
story. She made it a point to tell the co-participants during the February 15 round-

table meeting. The way she went about it was hilarious. She mentioned feeling guilty

that she was having such a happy time in school among a close-knit community, so

169

she wanted them to know that all was not really perfect. It involved her relationship
with a newly transferred, experienced teacher named Miss Uma.
mm

This experienced teacher was transferred to Xavier Primary School during Jo’s
second week at school. It was difﬁcult to categorize her. She was senior to Jo but
new to the school. In terms of the three categories, she tended not to belong to any of
them: not the administrators, not the experienced teachers already immersed in the
school subculture, and not her group of beginning teachers. Jo learned from her
interactions with her that she seemed a category by herself:

In the second week we had a new teacher. . . . When this teacher came, I

tried to be friendly to her. And this is the ﬁrst time . . . I’m used to, you

know, getting this treatment. She just b;u_shed me eff, you see. . . . So, from
then on, I was very formal whenever I wanted to talk with her. (Third

Interview, December 26, 1995)

Retrospectively, Jo’s comments were an understatement. When Jo and I met
for the ﬁfth time on February 6, 1996, I listened to her account of a misunderstanding
with Miss Uma without interrupting her. The misunderstanding with Miss Uma, the
hurting comments that the latter made in the midst of other teachers, the unwitting
entry into workplace politics, and the embarrassment left Jo in shock:

Cik Noor (i.e., the panel head) asked Miss Uma-~they were having a bit of a

problem with the Year 6 class for that week, the extra class . . . . The person

who was supposed to teach could not make it, so they were trying to ﬁnd a

substitute teacher for that day. So they asked Miss Uma about it. So Miss

Uma got very . . . ﬂared up. Exchange of words going on between Cik Noor

and Miss Uma. . . . Miss Uma got very emotional. . . . What I did was, I just

went to Cik Noor. . . . I whispered to her quietly. I said, "Noor. You’re
having problems with this Friday’s class, is it? Okay, I’ll take it." Cik Noor

said, ”Okay, that’s it. We have a person who’s going to do it. We can have Jo
to do it.” . . . To my amazement and my shock, Uma just turned around and

170

said, ”Okay, give it to her and give her a "cemerlang' (i.e., "excellent” job
performance appraisal) as well!” So, it was a very big shock to me. . . . It
nearly brought me to tears. What I was doing there was just to ease the
situation. (Fifth Interview, February 6, 1996)

But the misunderstanding led to Jo’s self-discovery that she had responded to
the event "professionally.” Her composed reaction, as described in the following
quote, was quite unlike Jo’s usual self. Jo had told me during the interview that she
was known for "a sharp tongue,” yet she refrained from entering into an argument
when Miss Uma approached her shortly after the incident:

One period has passed. She comes to me and tells me,” . . . I want to talk to

you." . . . Thank God, I was doing my work. I just wanted to be very

occupied with my work. . . . She said that I had no right to do such a thing. .

. . She said, ”It’s between me and them. Why did you put your head in?” I
just said, ”Look. I’m very sorry if you feel I butted in into your affairs. But .

. . my conscience and intentions were very clear. . . . I wanted to relieve
somebody . . . . I was doing somebody a favor.” . . . I just kept quiet. . . . I
let her do the talking. . . . I apologized to her. (Fifth Interview, February 6,
1996)

Toward closure of the study, Jo said that there was minimal interaction
between her and Miss Uma whom she alluded to as a ”loose brick” in the ”strong
brick wall" that metaphorically represented her colleagues.

Her acquaintance with Miss Uma aside, Jo’s ﬁrst impressions of the three
groups of colleagues changed minimally in certain cases, and remained incredibly
constant in others. First, we look at the administrators.

Mann

In the very early days, Jo consulted Puan Mariana (i.e., Senior Assistant 1)

several times over administrative matters. As time passed, Jo decided to see her less

often so that her basic competence would not be in question: ”Regarding Puan

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Mariana, I don’t want to keep on going to her, to show her that I’m helpless. . . . I
don’t want to trouble her. She’s very busy. . . . She’ll be thinking to herself, ’Why
can’t she think for herself or do something?” (Third Interview, December 26,
1995).

This was interesting. Jo said the opposite about her relationship with the group
of six other beginning teachers, particularly Rena. Jo seemed perfectly comfortable to
reveal that she could not do certain things by herself to her peers, but not to Puan
Mariana. In other words, it seemed acceptable to share doubts and inadequacies with
people of her own station, but not with people higher up on the hierarchy. Further, Jo
became more aware of the nature of relationships between Puan Mariana and some
experienced teachers, and this prompted her to learn to be more self-reliant: ”I’ve
seen her telling some teachers. . . . Her tone was very ﬁrm. . . . Maybe she was
being a bit soft with ﬁrst-year teachers" (Third Interview, December 26, 1995).

With Mr. Chan, the second senior assistant who was in charge of student
affairs, Jo realized a dependence on him to help solve classroom management
problems. He had assured her of full support in his capacity as Senior Assistant 2,
and delivered it when the need arose. But the consequences, though effective, resulted
in troubled thoughts and a troubled heart:

I sent nine boys to him once. . . . After that, as I lined them up to go back to

class, my head was down as I walked behind them. I felt sad. . . . A parent

who had seen the incident came to me and said, "I liked what you did. The
boys may not like you now, but they’ll be grateful later.” (Fifth Interview,

February 6, 1996)

I understood Jo’s feelings. I also understood Jo’s actions although, admittedly,

172

I wondered if sending nine boys to the senior assistant was the best thing to do. But
Jo knew the circumstances and her needs best. The situation was complex. Many of
the experienced teachers as well as the administrators had cautioned her that the one
problem constantly troubling the school was parents. This could have made Jo
cautious about ways which she could experiment with in classroom management. Jo
had often seen parents in the ofﬁce, often to lodge complaints. Teachers were always
careful when it came to managing children.

The headmaster was often away for meetings or was busy. Jo mentioned his
name occasionally in our conversations. Usually it would be an observation of how he
conducted a meeting, or how she observed colleagues talking with him. Always, there
was the comfortable feeling that should she ever need to talk with him on a serious
matter, he would be approachable. Not mentioning interactions with him reminded me
of what Jo had said, laughingly, during the entry interview: "Well, we wouldn’t want
to go to him. Maybe I don’t want to trouble him . . . to me maybe this problem is
such a big problem; to him it’s such a petty problem, I think." And it played out that
way as time passed by.

With the next group of colleagues, the experienced teachers, there was even
greater constancy in terms of Jo’s impressions of them.

mm

Jo’s ﬁrst impressions of the experienced teachers not only prevailed, they

became better deﬁned and well substantiated. Jo informed me that during her ﬁrst

week at work, she was not sure of her ﬁrst impressions. But after the second week,

173

she was ”conﬁdent that they’re a nice group. . . . They’re very genuine people"
(Third Interview, December 26, 1996).

These experienced colleagues gradually but steadily provided multiple
opportunities for Jo to learn on the job, far more than she bargained for. These came
in steady doses. One instance was when fellow English teachers unanimously elected
her as the new English panel secretary. There was a mixture of surprise, pleasure,
and anxiety as Jo talked about the election and about how the ﬁrst panel meeting
provided her with an opportunity to participate actively. Based on the following
quote, I saw Jo quickly learning to ﬁt within the panel. Though Jo had intended to be
reticent in view of her identity of newness, the atmosphere of the panel meeting
allowed her to share some ideas that she had learned while in college, ideas which
were likely to be new to some of the experienced colleagues:

They asked us about activities which we had planned for the year. They kept

on asking me, ”Miss Jo, I’m sure you’ve some new ideas. Come on,

contribute something. I’m sure you can tell us something.” Can you help us in

this? Can you help us in that? (Third Interview, December 26, 1996)

Jo’s fellow panelists were encouraging. The reason extended beyond making
Jo feel at ease. There was a genuine interest in what Jo had to offer in her position as
a new teacher from college. My strong sense of this was based on two of many
conversations with Jo’s colleagues. One was with Cik Noor, the English panel head,
and the second was with Mrs. Diana, the very experienced English teacher who
jointly managed the English Language Society (for students) with Jo. The English
panel head said that Jo was very geergetie, that she was ﬂesh from college, and had

lots of em ideas. She hoped that Jo would go far. ”Going far," as our conversation

174
went on, meant going for further studies, perhaps for a university degree.

Mrs. Diana, co-advisor of the English Language Society, made similar
comments. She remarked that there were clear signs of leadership in Jo, that she was
energetic and enthusiastic, and that she had the potential to go far. Mrs. Diana wished
that Jo were teaching Year 6 with her since Year 6 students had to sit for national
examinations in September. That way, they could mutually support each other. I felt
that Mrs. Diana’s comments represented a great compliment to Jo as a teacher. I
learned that Jo helped out with her Year 6 students by giving extra classes on
Saturdays.

Thus, these conversations with Jo’s colleagues indicated that invitations for Jo
to share her ideas were made sincerely, based on the belief that newcomers, fresh
from college, must therefore be armed with the latest ideas in TESL.

Jo had been assigned to teach English and art to Year 4, so Jo became a
member of the art panel as well. She recalled a friendly atmosphere with other art
teachers during the panel meeting as well:

Basically, I don’t like art. . . . I just went. I felt very confused with the way

we had to plan the work, and so on. They said it was a new way of planning

things. The panel head said, ”Don’t worry, I’ll give you an example." . . . It

was the same atmosphere, something which I have seen in the meetings. . . .

It was very relaxed and very smooth. (Third Interview, December 26, 1995)

Jo found herself in numerous other situations where she had to work with
other colleagues (Table 4). New responsibilities were showered on her in a way that

she did not expect. Despite her anxiety over her ability to deliver, there was a

growing excitement at the faith that the administrators and the other experienced

I75

colleagues had in her. Jo looked back at her long list of responsibilities, some of
which were assigned, others assumed through election. She remarked on the

opportunities for learning on the job with mixed feelings of honor and anxiety:

It’s good exposure. And I feel honored, yes, correct. . . . I’m i

these are things which I have not done before. . . . I don’t know what to
expect. I don’t know who is going to help me. Or what kinds of things I have
to do. . . . But I’m a bit assured. In this school I ﬁnd that they’re not going to
laugh at your mistakes. They help one another. . . . I feel I’m a peer to them,
you see. I feel I’m a colleague, I ﬁt in already. . . . I f l v m tiv
Iflve ei’ hn frm I’ frm 01 n..

. and through this learning, I’d like to grow as a person as well as a teacher.
But, I know, along the way, I’ve got to seek assistance from a lot of people.
(Fourth Interview, January 15, 1996)

Committees aside, Jo’s relationships with the experienced colleagues, both
collectively and individually, grew. Jo commented on collegial interactions with
several people, expressing what and how she learned from them, during our fourth
interview on January 15, 1996:

Cik Noor taught me how to use the cyclostyling machine. It was very nice of
her because I had to get the minutes of the English panel on time and she
wanted me to give it to the members on the next day. . . . So I asked her.
And she said, ”Sure, I’ll show you how to do it." And she taught me. After
doing that, I felt more conﬁdent. Oh, I feel equipped as a teacher now.

. . . (Mrs. Diana) said, "You all are so fresh from college. You know, we
could learn from you. . . . You’ve so many ideas." . . . We’re both
conducting the English Language Society meetings together. . . . She reminds
me that we’ve got to do this; we’ve got some games up there; you can use
them. She keeps reminding me. She’s very concerned about it. It’s very nice
working with her. . . . You don’t feel a burden when you work with her, you
know. . . . What I gather is that she’s willing to learn from me. It’s very nice.
Learning is always a two-way process. . . . I told her . . . I can also be
learning from her.

. . . In the staff room, we’re talking a lot about the . . . discipline of the boys.
A o f r... hr -n g-ICh‘l' a wll .- ‘ olc ta. hr -- ’r '11
talking amet the same teeie; hew te muttel the beys. After we’ve talked, and

176

we’ve explained our ideas . . . methods and quoted our own examples, all we

could do was laugh about it. It boils down to the same thing: The boys are

very mischievous. . . . Y u ﬁn h u’re no e nl ne.
Experienced teachers helped her in terms of: (a) learning the ropes (e. g., using the
cyclostyling machine), (b) conducting society meetings, and (0) sharing problems and
ideas about classroom management.

As Jo mingled with colleagues, she discovered surprising attributes in a few.
For instance, Jo discovered that there was a scriptwriter in their midst. Cik Haliza,
experienced teacher and part-time scriptwriter, provided Jo and fellow beginning
teachers with unique learning opportunities. She invited them to participate as
audience in a television talk show which a friend was hosting, and for which the
former had agreed to be a panelist. Jo learned that teachers were sought after to be in
the audience for serious talk shows ”because they ask questions. " Free transportation
to a club where the ﬁlming took place, a free dinner and a token payment for
participating as audience aside, it proved a memorable educational experience in the
following ways: (3) Jo learned about the responsibilities and risks of ”guarantors,” the
topic of the talk show, possibly adding insights as to why she and all beginning
teachers had to have guarantors to assure the Ministry of Education that they would
teach for at least ﬁve years; (b) Jo became better acquainted with some beginning
teachers from Sarawak (in East Malaysia) who had recently joined her school; she
learned, to her pleasant surprise, that though they came from a less developed part of

Malaysia, they were not very different from her in terms of knowledge, interests, and

attitudes; and (c) Jo had conversations touching on a variety of topics with teachers

177

from other schools. For these reasons, Jo termed the experience as being truly
"educational. " She felt indebted to the teacher who offered her such a novel
opportunity for learning.

But just as Jo formed impressions of her colleagues through incidents like the
invitation to participate in a talk show, she yearned for knowledge of her colleagues’
perceptions of her. Her desire for feedback represented a need for afﬁrmation that she
”was on the right track," and that she was living up to their expectations of a full-

ﬂedged teacher:

I wanted to get feedback, you see . . . of what they thought about me. . . .
Feedback is veg impettant fer me te see if I’m en the right gaek and whether
it’s okay with people, or whether I offended anybody. Some people might say
it’s not necessary to have feedback, but as for me, it’s very important. If it’s
something that I’ve done wrong, then I could improve myself. Feedback is
important to know your weaknesses and strengths. (Fourth Interview, January
15, 1996)

Sometimes, there was explicit feedback for Jo from her colleagues:

Mrs. Diana wants me to help her to teach Year 6 this year. . . . It could ease
her burden because she was telling me that there was too much on her
shoulders. . . . She said, "If I had a person to help me, at least we can talk
about things". . . She said, "You’re capable.” (Fourth Interview, January 15,
1996)

In the absence of direct feedback, Jo had to be content with implicit feedback:
For example, the English panel meeting (report) . . . . I showed it to Cik
Noor and told her to proofread it. And she did it, and she just corrected only
one error. Not error. She just added in a sentence. So I felt that that was good
feedback. . . . I’m on the right track. . . . You’ve to read in between the
lines. (Fourth Interview, January 15, 1996)
Thus, her impressions of the second category of colleagues, experienced

teachers, remained constant. So did her impressions of the third category, fellow

178

beginning teachers.
W

With this third group of colleagues, Jo started noticing a pattern in her
interactions: They were the ones that she would go to ﬁrst to share her uncertainties
and fears. This contrasted with her earlier actions when she was more inclined to
consult more experienced colleagues like Senior Assistant 1. It was an interesting
reversal in collegial interactions, a discovery that surprised Jo herself:

I’ve already discovered a pattern. . . . Regarding Puan Mariana, I don’t want

to keep on going to her, to show her that I’m helpless. . . . I don’t want to
trouble her. She’s very busy. . . . She’ll be thinking to herself, ”Why can’t

she think for herself or do something?" So . . . I ge m Reha er I ge te emele

fm 13' '1'! 0011‘le -. I’t or flin Iomft 431‘ 14----11

teaehers whe have mme in with me. We share . . . . We don’t know how to

do the register, we don’t know this, we don’t know how to do that. So it’s
mostly that we talk to them ﬁrst. . . . What I expected before this was that I
would run to these (i.e., experienced) people ﬁrst, and then only come to these
people (i.e., fellow beginners). Maybe I always thought that these people are
superior to me, so I should go to them. I was not looking down on my peers,

but I thought . . . how could they help me? MW. (Third

Interview, December 26, 1996)

However, despite emphasizing peer support and counselling, Jo vacillated
where classroom management was concerned, ﬁnally acknowledging that she still
needed Mr. Chan, the second senior assistant, to intervene when her efforts failed.

As for her relationship with Rena, the other beginning English teacher, Jo
commented in simple words on the strength of their friendship, ”I go to her and she
comes to me. There’s a shoulder for me if I want to cry. And the same for her”

(Third Interview, December 26, 1996). These sentiments remained through the

duration of the study. Jo’s simple comments said a lot about how she thought of Rena

179

as a colleague: one who could empathize, who could be trusted, and who could
provide psychological support.

I now move to Viji’s school, Bamboo Grove Primary School, situated in a
state on the west coast. This is my telling of Viji’s story.

Viji’s Story
A F h

As a teacher, I’m . . . like a baby. . . . My practicals-—that was not real

teaching. I’m going into the real world of teaching. I don’t know anything

about real teaching. (Pre-entry Interview, December 10, 1995)

I feel that they (colleagues) are like a garden, you know, a beautiful garden

where there’re a lot of beautiful ﬂowers. . . . At the same time, we also have

the rose tree, and more thorns than roses. The thorns are right now in a very
very bad state. So they give problems. . . . The thorns have fallen upon some
of the other ﬂowers and making life difﬁcult for the time being. . . . So if you
are smart, you just move away from the thorns. But, of course, being next to
each other, like the hibiscus ﬂower, it has to talk to a rose plant. . . . That
garden desperately needs a very good gardener. (Round-Table Conference,

February 15 , 1996)

The story of 21-year-old beginning teacher Viji takes us into a dramatically
different world from Jo’s. Viji’s rural school had an academic staff of 15, a number
that ﬂuctuated a little with time. In contrast to Jo’s school situated in the midst of
heavy trafﬁc and concrete buildings, Viji’s had a scenic view.

Viji began her story with a fairy tale beginning. The collegial environment that
she encountered sounded ideal. The workplace environment appeared to provide Viji
with a promising start to a career that she was still undecided about, having entered

the teaching profession through parental encouragement rather than personal

preference. But stories with fairy tale beginnings do not always have fairy tale

180
endings.

”Viji’s Story" follows the same framework as "Jo’s Story." First, I share
Viji’s ﬁrst impressions of the three categories of colleagues. Next, I examine change
or constancy in her impressions of colleagues through the ﬁrst three months in the
ﬁeld, and the impact that her experiences with colleagues had on her life as a teacher.

Im i f II

I am personally very afraid to start teaching. This is because I am used to

having a partner and some other colleagues who are from the same college

during my practicals. . . . Now I feel I am going to a place where . . . they
would be complete strangers. . . . I’m trying to be very positive for I have
heard that in schools like the one I’m going to, the people are always very

helpful. (Pre-entry Journal, December 3, 1995)

Viji’s entry into Bamboo Grove Primary School was unusual. She reported to
the headmaster before the scheduled date, and also met her colleagues at a staff
meeting chaired by the headmaster two days before ofﬁcially starting work as a
teacher. Contact time was limited, but Viji said that she liked the community. She had
a better sense of her colleagues after she started work ofﬁcially. Viji seemed very
happy with her school; she was full of laughter as she talked. She would talk about a
colleague, move on to another, and then return momentarily to someone that she had
earlier spoken about. It was quite unlike the organized way in which Jo spoke. Viji’s
excitement, illustrated in her unique way of sharing, was heartening. First, I share her
impressions of the ﬁrst category of colleagues, the administrators.

Mm

The administrators included the headmaster, Encik Rahman; Senior Assistant

1, Encik Roselan; and the teacher in charge of student affairs, Puan Siti, also known

181
as Senior Assistant 2. Viji spoke about her impressions of the headmaster in detail,
but very little about the second and third ofﬁcers. Later, this was to change
dramatically.

Viji ﬁrst met the headmaster a few days before ofﬁcially starting work. The
headmaster was absent on Viji’s ﬁrst ofﬁcial day at work. On her second day,
however, the headmaster called Viji and the other beginning teacher, Rani, for a
meeting. However, the two senior assistants were not included at the meeting. The
atmosphere was pleasant and open. The headmaster showed an awareness that the
beginning teachers, both of Indian ethnicity, needed to be put at ease. He brought up
the issue of ethnic difference from the rest of the school population in a helpful,
friendly, and reassuring manner:

He was talking to us like just a friend. . . . He said, ”Bamboo Grove is a very
beautiful place. It’s very interior, I know . . . plus you’re Indian. I know you
must feel out of place, but try to be part of our family.” . . . That’s when he
said, ”Your way of dressing, things like that, people will notice. . . . So just
try to keep things in proper order. Try to earn a good name here. " Before he
concluded, he just said, "I think the people here will love you." (Entry

Interview, December 12, 1995)

Further, he asked about Viji’s transportation plans for the following day since
the teachers were to stay back for a special "get-together" of teachers and Year 6
parents, and the last bus would have gone by the time the gathering ended. He
showed an awareness and concern that Viji, who stayed far from the school, might
have to make alternative travel arrangements. Viji was surprised by the headmaster’s

concern over her welfare.

Viji also had good first impressions of the way the headmaster chaired a

 

 

 

182
teachers’ meeting that same day. One issue focused on the suitability of attire for
Monday morning assemblies, centering on the necktie for men. Viji said, "I like the
way he went around, asking everybody’s opinions" (Entry Interview, December 12,
1995). There was an objection to the necktie, on cultural grounds, and support as
well. Finally, the headmaster decided that teachers who were uncomfortable need not
don neckties. Although Viji knew that it was a minor matter, it made her think well
about the headmaster. She hoped that he would react just as ﬂexibly in other
situations.

However, despite his friendliness, the headmaster seemed likely to be the last
person that Viji would approach in case she needed advice. Viji explained why she
would keep a distance:

. . . because he’s always very busy. And . . . he’s a man who always asks us

to go out and seek the ideas, go out and ask. . . . When we ﬁrst came, he

said,"Don’t be shy. Ask your colleagues. Treat them as your friends, you
know.” And when we go and ask him ﬁrst, he’s deﬁnitely going to ask you

back,”Now, why didn’t you ask this person?” (Entry Interview, December 12,

1995)

With regard to the ﬁrst senior assistant, Viji spoke little during our interview.
He had introduced her and Rani to the school assembly on her ﬁrst day of work.

Third on the administrative structure was Senior Assistant 2, Puan Siti. She
was the ofﬁcer in charge of student affairs, inclusive of school discipline. Since
Bamboo Grove Primary was a small school, Puan Siti also took on the position of
English panel head. In other words, Puan Siti was Senior Assistant 2, Discipline

Teacher, and head of the English Panel, three positions rolled into one. The

relationship between Viji and Puan Siti seemed cordial:

183

She’s always in the staff room and she’s always telling me things like, ”Make
sure you get your duty roster done. This is what you’re supposed to be doing

in your register.” . . . But, based on English (i.e., instruction), not much. . . .
She said, ”It’s your class. You go ahead; you do your way." Then she told
me, ". . . you’re young . . . you’re new, you’re fresh with new ideas."

(Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

The school administration assigned Viji the position of Advisor of the English
Language Society. She recalled Puan Siti, the former advisor, giving her freedom to
try out her own ideas in motivating pupils to learn English through co-curricular
activities: "You are in charge now. You go ahead and do it your way” (Entry
Interview, December 12, 1995).

I now move on to share Viji’s impressions of the second category of
colleagues, the experienced teachers.

Experiengd Teaeheigs

Being a small school, there were just a few experienced teachers aside from
the administrators. Viji’s relations with them sounded incredibly rich. The occasions
for interactions with these experienced teachers, and the nature of the interactions,
brought laughter to the young, enthusiastic Viji. Three names stood out: Encik Adam,
a ”jovial” man; Puan Rozana, a teacher who treated Viji as a full-ﬂedged teacher,
right from the start; and Encik Zainal, a ”fatherly" ﬁgure.

First was Encik Adam, a friendly and jovial man. Viji recalled Encik Adam’s
teasing during the school assembly when the ﬁrst senior assistant, Encik Roselan,
introduced her as ”the teacher in the red dress.” Viji highlighted his easy-going nature
and friendliness, qualities that she liked: ”He came to me and said, ’Viji, go out and

portray yourselﬂ Don’t stand behind the wall!’ . . . He was laughing away during the

184

assembly” (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995).
During this assembly of teachers and students, Viji happened to sit next to
Puan Rozana, an experienced teacher whose friendship she gradually began to
treasure. Viji recalled, with astonishment, how the latter accepted her as a full-ﬂedged
teacher immediately, by asking Viji for ideas in teaching music. Being posed a
question about instruction made Viji feel like a ”real" teacher, a label that apparently
ill-ﬁtted before the conversation as she had been a "trainee” not long ago:
She was telling me that she was given music and she didn’t know how to go
about it. She asked me whether I know anything about music. And I said "Ya"
because I’ve taught music during my practical . . . . I was surprised. She
hardly knew me. She was an experienced teacher with about . . . eight to nine
years of experience . . . and she was asking me, a newcomer who doesn’t
know anything. . . . We were talking about ourselves, our backgrounds, and
all that. . . . I felt at home because I didn’t feel that I was new there after all.

. . . I felt that she was a person who respected me and accepted me as a
colleague. And I was very happy about it because all this while I still felt like

a trainee, you see. I didn’t feel like I WQ 3 rgl ﬁsher yet. . . . Suddenly, I

felt like ene ef them. (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

Puan Rozana’s friendliness was reinforced by another experienced teacher,
Encik Zainal, described by Viji as a fatherly ﬁgure. The latter seemed to understand
what being a new teacher entailed. He sought to make Viji and Rani feel at home by
telling them not to worry. Viji reﬂected, "He’s a very nice and quiet man, like more
fatherly . . . talks very nicely, jokes with us. . . . He didn’t make . . . us feel out of
place” (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995).

I could very easily believe that he did not make them "feel out of place."

Encik Zainal was the very same teacher who talked very easily with me in the

teachers’ common room some weeks later during my school visit. He also played a

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sleight-of-hand trick on me that had a couple of colleagues in the common room burst
out in laughter. They had similarly been tricked and were amused that it was my turn.

Viji mentioned that Encik Zainal, whose specialization was in the teaching of
English like herself, but who had ceased to teach English, would probably be the ﬁrst
person she would approach in case she needed advice. That took me by surprise
because the panel head, Puan Siti, was not mentioned as the person she would
consult. Viji attributed her choice to Encik Zainal’s pleasing personality as well as
perceptions of Puan Siti’s administrative commitments:

Because he offers his help very easily. And Puan Siti is very busy because she

is the HEM teacher (i.e., ofﬁcer in charge of student affairs) so she’s always

not around to . . . talk with. But Encik Zainal is very free, so he’s always in

the staff room. . . . He’s a person whom you can talk to very fast. (Entry

Interview, December 12, 1995)

We have seen direct interactions between Viji and some experienced teachers
during her ﬁrst couple of days at school. But Viji also observed her colleagues from a
distance, and liked what she saw. She recalled the teachers’ meeting that she attended
on her second day at work, a meeting that resulted in respect for her colleagues. Viji
commented, "They were all listening attentively. Nobody was making any pranks,
jokes, or laughing or anything. . . . Here, everybody paid respect and they all . . .
listened to what he (i.e., the headmaster) was saying” (Entry Interview, December 12,
1995).

More importantly, Viji marvelled at their open, voluntary spirit represented

particularly by Encik Adam, the ”jovial” colleague, at a meeting to discuss the get-

together with Year 6 parents:

186

He (i.e., the headmaster) said, "I need someone to arrange the hall for me.”

Encik Adam--he raised his hand and said he was willing to do it. . . . He said,

”I’ll do it if you give me these two guys.” . . . After that, he (i.e., the

headmaster) said,”Can someone be in charge of the jamuan (i.e.,

refreshments)?” . . . Encik Adam said,” Viji and Rani, please go and help in

the jamuan area. I’ll come and join you there." . . . We were all laughing.

(Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

Viji’s fairy tale beginning seemed complete as she talked about her relationship
with the sole member of the third category, fellow beginning teacher, Rani.

Fellew Egihhihg Teacher

When Viji discovered that another newly certiﬁed English teacher would join
the staff, she was overjoyed. The identity of "newness” would, in itself, have served
as a bond, based on Viji’s early comments about feelings of insecurity and
dependence before starting work. With Rani as a fellow beginning teacher, the
symmetry went far beyond the identity of newness. Both were in the same subject
specialization. Both were from the same ethnicity, and the same cultural background.
They instantly liked each other and had common attitudes and interests.

Viji made two observations. The first was that she felt relieved that her
problems, which came with the identity of ”newness," could be shared with another
who was ”in the same boat. " The second and closely-related observation was crucial:
It was get just that they were new and thus faced teething problems in English
instruction. Rather, this was a Qmelex ihsﬂctiehal Qntext where students had little
exposure to the use of English outside of their classrooms. While in city areas, many

inﬂuences such as imported English programs on television might help reinforce

English language learning among children and make English literacy instruction more

187

manageable, Viji had told me that few of the students had television sets at home. Viji
had also shared her frustration regarding her English lessons to Year 4 during the ﬁrst
two days--how she struggled to make herself understood without resorting to the use
of Malay, and how she decided that the "English Only" policy was not going to work.
Despite the circumstances in which she had to teach English, a language that seemed
to have no immediate use for the students, Viji was determined to have her students
learn in view of the potential that English would have in their lives later on. She
perceived, just after two days of knowing Rani, that the latter felt the same about
English literacy instruction to the rural children, having listened to Rani teach ”over
and over and over again” in the latter’s open-door classroom. In Rani, there was the
potential, if not the promise, of a fellow teacher who would be a companion on a
very challenging instructional journey. Viji tells us her ﬁrst impressions of Rani in
their unique and problematic situation:

I can connect very strongly with Rani. She’s just like me right now. She wants
her pupils to learn from her, to be able to accept what she’s teaching. . . .
I’ye heatd her teaehing. h v r v r n v r m in -- nil
they t‘ah get it right. . . . I like to stand on the veranda and watch what’s
going on . . . because her class is down(stairs) . . . . Here, we don’t close the
doors; it’s open so we can watch whatever is going on.

. .1 er n utther ’ in herv m m

n er tan an If I I’m oin hat she’ in I n’t f l m ff
W. I feel that there’s also someone out there who’s doing the same. .
. . Other people here might think, "Why are you trying so hard to get them to
do it? You can just give them work and go on." But I ﬁnd that there’s
someone out there who’s also trying very hard to make a point for them to
learn. . . . We share the same anxieties right now.

. . . We’re both very new, with very new hopes, very new wishes, very new
to experiencing what frustration is . . . . Other people can tell you it’s okay,

it’s going to go away. Bet yee’re mere right nesy and semeene is alse there

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rihnwwih nwrl t hoerinhtw inth ee at
we’re beth ﬂing veg hatd. (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

Thus, when Viji spoke about experiencing ”the same anxieties," she was not referring
to the teething problems of learning the ropes such as how to ﬁll in a class register or
a teacher’s record book. Those were minor problems. The greater one at hand was
motivating an exclusively rural Malay student population where English had the
semblance of a foreign language.

Leaving Viji after the entry interview, I again wondered, as in the case of Jo,
about the reliability of Viji’s ﬁrst impressions of her colleagues. How reliable were
they? Could ﬁrst impressions be deceptive? In Jo’s case that I shared earlier, I had
been skeptical over her highly positive ﬁrst impressions, having myself worked in
urban Kuala Lumpur before, and in a school no less in the public eye than Jo’s. But
Jo’s colleagues proved that her ﬁrst impressions were close to reality. Her colleagues
collectively formed ”a strong brick wall.” And I was glad.

In Viji’s case, I did not think that her ﬁrst impressions would change
signiﬁcantly, pleasant memories of my ﬁrst school in a rural setting inﬂuencing the
way I thought. But ﬁrst impressions, I learned through following Viji’s story, were

nothing more than what they were-ﬁrst impressions.

 

Viji’s impressions of the ﬁrst category of colleagues underwent drastic change.
Her impressions of the other two categories, the experienced colleagues and the
fellow beginning teacher, remained constant throughout. I start with a complex

account involving the ﬁrst group, the administrators.

189
Maine

During our third interview, two weeks after starting work, Viji hardly spoke
about the headmaster. It implied that things remained the same. I was also reminded
of Viji’s view that the headmaster would be the last person whom she would approach
if she needed help. Thus, not mentioning the headmaster was unsurprising.

During our fourth interview, however, Viji’s perceptions departed from her
earlier, positive impressions about the headmaster. She expressed her disappointment
that the headmaster had not entertained a request that Senior Assistant 1, Encik
Roselan, made on her behalf regarding her heavier revised teaching schedule. Viji and
Rani, apparently, had the heaviest revised teaching schedules in the school: ”When we
looked at our time (i.e., teaching periods), Rani and I, we found that we had a very
shocking time . . . . Both of us have the most in the whole school. . . . I think most
probably because we were new” (Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996).

Viji unwittingly found herself in the midst of workplace politics. She had
thought earlier that Senior Assistant 1, Encik Roselan, would be responsible for
making some changes to her teaching schedule, one of which would involve giving
Viji some music classes in place of art. Viji had agreed to the switch as the school
lacked music teachers and she had some knowledge of music instruction. English
would remain her major teaching assignment. She had no inkling that at the same
time when she was assisting Encik Roselan with the time-table changes, Puan Siti
(Senior Assistant 2), together with one other colleague were also revising the

teachers’ teaching schedules. Viji reﬂected on the administrators’ actions and the issue

190

of power which had entered her life as a teacher:

I was feeling very, you know, angry. It was more of ”frustrated” because here
we are, new, trying to learn, and then when we don’t know something, we
don’t know your school rules. . . .We don’t know who is really in charge. The
problem with this school is . . . that those people are trying to be leaders,
trying to show that they have power, when the real person who has the power
is . . . not prominent. (Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996)

Viji reﬂected on her earlier good impressions of the headmaster. She said that
she was so new then, our interview having taken place after Viji had been in the ﬁeld
for only two days:

We don’t . . . really interact that much. . . . That time I was new, and I

thought he was interactive. But now I realize that it is like . . . the thing is

passed on to you, you do it. No argument. That’s all. That’s how the system
is. . . . He’s getting information from them (alluding to Puan Siti and one

other). (Fourth Interview, January 12, 1995)

Viji looked back with both regret and appreciation that the ﬁrst senior assistant
had (unsuccessfully) tried to lighten Viji and Rani’s teaching schedules by speaking
with the headmaster right after the new teaching schedules, which should have been
his responsibility, were distributed. Viji described his embarrassing position:

While Encik Roselan was preparing the time-table, supposed to be his job,

both of them had ended up preparing the new one, had seen the GB (i.e., the

headmaster) and given it to him before he could do it. He was embarrassed
because . . . all of us knew he was doing it. . . . He (i.e., Encik Roselan)
knows I can’t be doing this much. . . . He said, ”No, Viji. I’m going to talk
to the GB." Then he went to talk . . . but his idea was not accepted. (Fourth

Interview, January 12, 1996)

To confound the issue, Viji had recently had an experience where she
discovered that she could not rely on Senior Assistant 2, Puan Siti, even when she

solicited the latter’s help. Viji related the incident where she could not control a boy

in her class, and requested Puan Siti in her capacity as Discipline Teacher, to

191

intervene. The latter refused, embarrassing Viji. Viji grew up fast, realizing that from
a "baby” who was helpless, she would have to start helping herself:

Now, there’re lots of things that I can handle and I don’t go around asking for
help that much. I begin to realize, in my class I am in charge. . . . I cannot
always be listening to somebody’s advice. And sometimes I have to make up
my own mind. There was an incident . . . about that boy who was very rude
to me. . . . He embarrassed me in front of class. I went to her to come with
me at that moment to go and reprimand him, but, no, she didn’t follow me.
(Fourth Interview, January 12, 1996)

As this study approached closure, the state of affairs deteriorated. The ﬁrst
concerned her perceptions of her headmaster; the second, her relationship with Puan
Siti. Regarding her headmaster, Viji’s perceptions had changed from being highly
positive to being miserably ambivalent. Viji acknowledged his strengths, one being
that he made it a point to know his teachers’ backgrounds well:

He knows everything about all of us. He can just tell you off hand where

you’re staying and everything. He makes it as a point to do that. There’re

certain qualities in him that are very interesting. . . . He has got lots of good
points in the sense that he can remember everything about you. (Fifth

Interview, January 29, 1996)

Another strength was that the headmaster gave praise when praise was due:

He makes it a point that if you do something good, he tells you that it’s good.

. . . Like when I did my register and my record book, he told me, ”This is

very beautiful work. It’s good.” Once when I was cleaning up my class, and

he came in and said, "This is the best class I’ve come in so far." . . . I make
sure cleanliness is the No. 1 in my class. And I’ve created a special place for
the pupils which I call ”Reading Corner” . . . and I’ve put magazines and

everything for them to read, and he was impressed with that. (Fifth Interview,

January 29, 1996)

But the head administrator’s ”good points” did not blind Viji to the unfairness that she
perceived as a result of the revision of their teaching schedules. She regretted that he

seemed to be inﬂuenced by others: "But there are certain aspects like the time-table

192

. . . he just doesn’t seem to understand and I feel that he’s being inﬂuenced by
others” (Fifth Interview, January 29, 1996).

Viji had further evidence to show that the headmaster did not seem to make
decisions easily. Not making quick decisions extended to matters like accommodating
or rejecting suggestions for creating a richer environment for English language
learning. Viji and Rani had made many suggestions at the ﬁrst English panel meeting
in mid-January, but after two weeks, nothing had been acted on. Viji recalled what
the headmaster had said, and commented, ”He said that they will be taken into
consideration, but up till today, we’ve not heard anything” (Fifth Interview, January
29, 1996). Viji’s perceptions that the headmaster did not make decisions easily
remained right until the beginning of the intra-semester break. She wrote in her
journal, ”I thought that my headmaster was a kind and understanding man but I found
out later that he was just a person who sometimes let others make decisions for him”
(Journal, February 13, 1996).

Viji’s relationship with Puan Siti did not improve. There was another incident
between them, involving the recurrent discipline problem with one boy in Viji’s class.
Viji had already learned that she could not depend on her. Instead of soliciting her
help this time, Viji went to the common room to see if someone else was available.
Coincidentally, Puan Siti was there. Viji asked aloud if anyone would help her with
the boy. In the presence of others who were already getting up to go to her aid, Puan
Siti felt obliged to act as she was the Discipline Teacher. The incident showed that

Viji had become more skillful in marshaling resources to help her. Although the

193
disciplinary action that Puan Siti took had some immediate effect, Viji was unsure the
effect would last and decided on further action that she would take independently,
such as calling for the boy’s parents despite Puan Siti’s disapproval.

What lasted, it would seem, was Viji’s frustration with the administration. Her
frustration emanated from the actions and inaction of the three school administrators.
First, she felt that her headmaster was not making decisions when he could. Second,
Encik Roselan resigned from his position as the second most important ofﬁcer in the
school. His resignation was accepted and he was relegated to the position of ordinary
teacher. It meant that Viji’s strongest line of communication with the administration
was gone since she had differences with Puan Siti, the other senior assistant. Viji
noted in her logs her feelings on learning about Encik Roselan’s resignation:

The headmaster then asked us to cooperate with the new leaders and not to

cause any problem. Rani and I got the hint and so we kept quiet. . . . I felt

sorry for Encik Roselan for all of us knew why he resigned and we felt that it

was a loss for he was a good person to work with. (Logs, February 1, 1996)

But real life stories are often ﬁlled with ironies. A day before the February 15
round-table discussion, the headmaster announced that he had received a letter of
transfer to another school, to be effective in two weeks. Workplace politics combined
with bureaucratic controls bewildered Viji. Not only was the administrative set-up
signiﬁcantly reshufﬂed, ordinary teachers like herself and Rani suffered
consequences. Viji reﬂected in her journal:

The latest rumor is that the headmaster is getting a transfer. We heard that the

new HM is a very nice person. We hope so. . . . Our school is in desperate

need of a good head. . . . I feel like I’ve grown to be nearly ﬁve from a baby
which I started out as. (Journal, February 13, 1996)

194

At the February 15 round-table meeting, Viji shared the same sentiments. She
commented ruefully that she had grown from a ”baby," her initial image of herself as
a teacher, to a "ﬁve-year-old child." Rather aptly, Viji’s bewilderment resulted in the
following comment (about the administration) that she added to the image of her
colleagues as beautiful ﬂowers in the midst of thorns: ”That garden desperately needs
a good gardener. "

Leaving a focus on the distressing state of affairs, I now look at Viji’s
workplace environment from a different angle. We renew our acquaintance with some
experienced teachers whom Viji referred to as "beautiful ﬂowers” in her garden
image, and meet some who were not mentioned before. We look at this second
category of colleagues individually as well as collectively.

Experiengd Teachers

Viji’s appraisal of her experienced colleagues, exclusive of the administrators,
was positive throughout. In different contexts and at different times, Viji noted that
her colleagues demonstrated or provided concern, a sense of camaraderie,
cooperation, compliments, and valuable counsel, and we will look at each in turn.

We now look at the ways the colleagues showed that they cared for Viji as a
new teacher. First, Viji was touched by her experienced colleagues’ Qheerh for her
well-being. They were concerned that she might feel alienated, and went out of their
way to make sure she felt she belonged:

The staff has come to accept me not like I’m a new person any more. Like

they’ve known me for a very long time. They joke with me. They laugh with

me. They made me a part of them. . . . When I’m sitting alone in the
classroom, if anyone passes by, they’ll quickly knock and say, ”What are you

 

195

doing alone? Come, come over.” . . . They don’t make you feel out of place.
They keep you as part of the family. (Third Interview, December 31, 1995)

Thus, Viji’s difference in ethnicity did not set her apart. On the contrary, her
colleagues were concerned that Viji (and Rani) felt at ease.

Colleagues’ concern over Viji extended from social support (i.e., making her
feel she belonged) to professional support (i.e., helping her advance her knowledge
and practice as a teacher). The professional support could be something as mundane
as teaching Viji how to close the monthly register, or it could be something with
potentially greater consequences such as preparedness for surprise visits by ofﬁcers
from the outside. For instance, when the District Education Ofﬁcer made an
unscheduled visit to the school, one teacher, Encik Razi, hurried to Viji’s classroom
to inform her so that she would not be taken by surprise if he came to observe her
class. Viji said that she was really thankful that he informed her during our ﬁfth
interview on January 29, 1996.

The District Education Ofﬁcer did visit Viji’s classroom, and when Viji
informed two colleagues about the visit later, they showed instant concern:

I told Puan Umi and Puan Rozana. They were telling me, ”What were you

doing when he came in?” I said I was sitting down. . . . They said, ”Why

were you sitting there?" I said,"No, I had just ﬁnished.” Then they said, "You
gave them work or not?" I said, "Yes." Then they said, ”Then, okay.”
In connection with the District Education Ofﬁcer’s visit, Viji perceived that the
experienced colleagues mentioned above acted as they did because they were

protective toward her:

Everyone was trying to protect me and her (Rani) from . . . getting any
scolding. They knew that we were new and we were going to make a lot of

196

mistakes. They were trying to ease our lives as much as possible by providing
us information and helping us whenever they can.

Alongside their concern were acts of gramme, such as demonstrated when
Viji was elected panel head for art:

All of them were saying, "It’s okay, Viji, we agree.” . . . I was speechless.

Since they had already written my name on the board, it was settled. . . . I

was still speechless. . . . Everybody wanted me to be the ”panitia" (i.e.,

panel) head. What shocked me was that I’m new and they’re all agreeing to

work under me. That was a real shock. . . . My parents are teachers, and I

know from their experiences that most people, when they have seniority, they

don’t like to be bossed, or have someone who is new, be a leader to them. No
matter what, I’m their ”panitia" leader now, and what I say is important now,
and they have to listen to me. Those under my "panitia" are those who have
been working for a very long time. I didn’t have enough members in my

”panitia. " So they were asking, Could anyone be in her "panitia"? And a few

hands went up. (Third Interview, December 31, 1995)

Next, the camaraderie that she felt during the election evolved into M
that went beyond the expected. Viji was stunned by the thoughtfulness of Puan
Rozana who helped her out as she prepared to chair her ﬁrst art panel meeting by
preparing copies of a letter of notiﬁcation to be distributed to panelists. Viji wrote, ”I
owe her a lot. She helped without being asked and she told me she knew how it felt
to be new" (Journal, February 13, 1996).

The nature of Puan Rozana’s help went beyond getting the letter of notiﬁcation
ready; she actually sat through the art panel meeting that Viji chaired, despite the fact
that the former was het a member of the panel herself. This incident left a powerful
impact on Viji. So strong was the impression left behind by her colleague and friend
that Viji told the other participants of the mid-February round-table discussion, "I told

myself, I have to write about her (for publication). . . . I want to hold this memory."

197

It struck me how a colleague’s thoughtfulness could contribute to Viji’s growth by
unwittingly prompting her to use her literacy talents to hold a special memory. Viji’s
ability to write well had struck me from the start as I looked at her logs and journals,
and her colleague, without realizing it, had provided a powerful stimulus to her to use
it for publication.

In addition, Viji received mmpliments which made her feel like a full-ﬂedged
teacher as the following incident shows:

Then another person said, "I really need your help." I showed him what I

knew (about music). "If you don’t mind," he said, ”I really want to learn.” . .

. I thought it was nice of him to acknowledge me. He said there’s a lot to

learn from me. He said, ”I can also learn English from you." I said, "I’m here

to learn from yea." He m Iik r fes i --lik an e l--like I’m

geSnJee. That it’s all right to make mistakes. And he’s not embarrassed to

ask, never mind if you’re older or younger. (Third Interview, December 31,

1995)

Such compliments from colleagues gave her much needed t‘enﬁdence. It was
afﬁrmation that she was doing well as a teacher. The following incident illustrates the
power of compliments to boost Viji’s conﬁdence. A mother of a new student had
asked to speak with Viji about her concerns for her daughter. Viji listened
sympathetically, and then assured the mother that she would look after her daughter.
Unknown to Viji, some colleagues were observing her in the common room:

In the staff room, I told her not to worry. . . . She left. I didn’t know that I

had an audience. They (colleagues) said, "The mother feels she (i.e., her

daughter) was in good hands, like you’ve been here for 100 years.” They said

I was very professional. . . . To recognize that and to tell me was very nice of

them. The next time, I would be able to do it. . . . It gave me conﬁdence.

(Round-Table Conference, February 15, 1996)

Finally, Viji received words of mensel from her colleagues. In conjunction

198

with the matter over the teaching schedule changes, for instance, the unhappiness that
Viji and Rani felt about their teaching schedules had become known at the
administrative level. Encik Razi, a colleague, cautioned Rani and her:
"You are new here. Whatever the headmaster or anybody tells you, just say
yes, and do it. Don’t protest.” . . . He just said, ”There are . . . people who
will be working against you. Now, until you’re conﬁrmed . . . just follow
what people say. Later when you are conﬁrmed, you’re much more an
independent teacher, and you feel certain things that you don’t like, say No.”
(Fifth Interview, January 29, 1996)
Similarly, when Viji expressed deep frustration over her Year 4 English pupils who,
in her view, were extremely slow, Encik Zainal, a "fatherly” ﬁgure in the school,
counselled her:
Don’t keep looking at . . . their negative points. Try to look for their positive
points. Try to work on that. When you enter this class, you already have the
assumption, "Oh, I’m going into this class. Oh, what a day it’s going to be.”
So automatically, you know, I wouldn’t feel like really teaching them and I get
irritated very fast. ”But when you go into Year 5 . . . no matter what dumb
mistakes they made, you can still come back, you know, thinking, oh, never
mind.” . . . I think I didn’t realize until he told me that. (Fifth Interview,
January 29, 1996)
Viji considered what he said, and realized that there was truth in his words. Viji said
that later she observed that things were not as bad as she had thought, and that there
was some progress among her Year 4 students.
Events such as the above illustrating concern, camaraderie, cooperation,
compliments, and counsel punctuated the many conversations between Viji and me.
Despite the unhappiness arising from the actions and inaction of the administrators,

the events were powerful enough for her to sum up her colleagues as a beautiful

garden, thorns notwithstanding. And within this beautiful garden was fellow beginning

199

teacher, Rani, who belonged to the third category of colleagues.
Fell w ’ ’ T r

The friendship between Viji and Rani had grown rapidly through the duration
of the study. When times were good, they celebrated through mutual sharing and
laughter. More importantly, when times were bad, their friendship became a source
of comfort and strength. As Viji worked alongside Rani, she learned that her
problems as a beginning teacher, which resulted in feelings of anger and frustration,
were not unique to herself; they were unique to their identities as new teachers.

I now trace the developing friendship between Viji and Rani, and also indicate
what and how Viji learns by working alongside Rani. Viji’s initial impressions of
Rani had been that they shared many things in common, primarily problems related to
their identity as new teachers and problems associated with the complex instructional
context they were in (i.e., where the rural students had limited exposure to English
outside the conﬁnes of their classrooms.) After a month of knowing each other, Viji
spoke about having developed great trust in Rani. She felt that she could talk about
"almost anything” with her: ”We learned that we have lots of things in common. . . .
We were able to converse freely. I noticed that I was very comfortable with her and
we could talk about almost anything” (Logs, January 19, 1996).

They talked about many topics, such as their frustration over instructional
issues and their heavy teaching schedules:

We discuss problems like what we face in the class, like our anger. She told

me that teaching is very important; you need be very patient. She said, "No

matter what happens, don’t get overworked in the class and don’t get too
angry. Keep trying to think that there’s another resolution to this.” I think she

200

pretty much shares my views in the sense that we’re both frustrated. (Fifth
Interview, January 29, 1996)

Another topic was Rani’s impending marriage:

Rani was telling me about her ﬁance and how it is to be attached. She said that
she sometimes missed her old single days. She told me to enjoy myself and
then to upgrade myself before I get attached. I listened to her and was glad for
the advice. (Logs, February 13, 1996)

Their relationship differed qualitatively from Viji’s relationships with other

colleagues:
. . we would be talking or laughing. . . . Compared to the rest of them, I’m
quite close to her. We pretty much are sailing in the same boat. . . . We are
very close. With the II we h u i’ n . (Round—Table

Conference, February 15, 1996)

By working alongside Rani, Viji learned a lot through the complementary acts
of listening and talking. Almost every one of Viji’s sentences, touching on their
thriving relationship, dealt with these reciprocal acts of communication: ”We were

able to converse freely," ". . . we could tgk about almost anything,” ”We discuss

 

problems . . . ," "1 Med to her,” and ". . . we would be m2 and laughing."
Dialogue seemed a powerful contributor to their special relationship.

The story of Viji as a beginning teacher ends on a bitter-sweet note. While the
relationship between her and Rani was solid, amazing considering that they had
known each other for such a short time, Viji wondered how long she would have the
comfort of Rani’s company in view of Rani’s wedding plans and possibility of an
eventual transfer to a place nearer where the latter would reside.

The stories of Jo and Viji have been told--or maybe not.

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Jo and Viji: The Deeper Story

The stories of Jo and Viji can be read at two levels at least. The ﬁrst level is
to read them as the stories of the individual journeys made by two beginning teachers,
amidst their colleagues, during their ﬁrst three months at work. Reading at that level,
we temporarily suspend our real selves and enter the worlds of others. We experience
vicariously the complexities and intricacies of their professional journeys. We feel
with Jo and Viji. We experience happiness and sadness, twin features of their
professional lives. And we experience other emotions too: excitement, anxiety,
bewilderment, frustration, surprise, misery, and uncertainty. Collectively, the stories
of Jo and Viji do cover an incredible range of human emotions.

Reading them at a deeper level, there is yet another story which I now narrate.
It is a story of the enactment of collegiality within hierarchies, as perceived by
beginning teachers. It is a story of the triumph and failure of collegiality within
hierarchical structures. The message of this deeper story is that collegiality is a
paradox: It promotes growth and it hampers growth.

I tell this deeper story in two major sections. The ﬁrst, "A Three-Tier
Hierarchy," is the backdrop to the story. Here, I highlight observations emerging
from the nature of interactions between the beginning teachers and their colleagues
occupying the three tiers, namely the administrators, experienced colleagues, and
fellow beginning teachers. In the second section, I survey these observations and
respond to the question, "What emerges as deﬁning collegiality?" by offering three

dimensions of collegiality.

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W

A three-tier hierarchy is the distinctive backdrop to the stories of Jo and Viji.
The hierarchical structures in the two schools, from my point of view, are similar.
The top tier is made up of the administrators comprising the Headmaster, Senior
Assistant 1, and Senior Assistant 2. The middle tier is comprised of experienced
teachers already immersed in the subculture of the schools. The bottom tier includes
fellow beginning teachers. In reality, the hierarchical structures are more complex
than I have described them, but it is beyond the scope and concerns of this
dissertation to share the complexities. The beginning teachers, Jo and Viji, interacted
with colleagues in each of these tiers. Starting with the top tier, I discuss the nature of
their interactions.
Interaetiens with the Amihm rategs: The Tee Tier

Three features stand out. First, both beginning teachers perceived and
observed certain unstated entailments of their positions as ﬁrst-year teachers. One of
these involves keeping a distance from the head administrator. Second, the two
research contexts presented excellent examples of contrasting patterns of collegiality.
Jo’s context presents a picture of administrators modeling collegiality collectively:
This is where collegiality tgiumphs and contributes to the well-being of those lower on
the school hierarchy. Third, Viji’s context, on the other end, problematizes
collegiality: This is a situation reﬂecting the fajhhe of collegiality among
administrators, affecting others lower down on the school hierarchy. The two

beginning teachers’ interactions with administrators provide an occasion to examine

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collegiality as a paradox.

K in ' 11 fr m h h ' ' or Regardless of how
friendly the headmaster was, and regardless of the size and location of the school, the
beginning teachers in the two schools seemed predisposed to keeping a respectful
distance from him, even when intervention might have been badly needed. We ﬁrst
look at excerpts from my early conversations with Jo and Viji, occurring separately:

Well, we wouldn’t want to go to him. Maybe I don’t want to trouble him . . .

to me maybe this problem is such a big problem; to him it’s such a petty

problem, I think. Because he has a lot of things to see to, besides the

discipline of pupils. . . . I think he’ll be the last person that I’d approach. . . .

But . . . on the ﬁrst day, he opened the lines of communication. (Jo, Entry

Interview, December 18, 1995)

. . . because he’s always very busy. And . . . he’s the man who always asks

us to go out and seek the ideas, go out and ask. . . . When we ﬁrst came, he

said,”Don’t be shy. Ask your colleagues. Treat them as your friends, you
know." And when we go and ask him ﬁrst, he’s deﬁnitely going to ask you
back,"Now, why didn’t you ask this person?" (Viji, Entry Interview,

December 12, 1995)

It is important to note that both teachers had perceived their headmasters as
being friendly. Yet the two teachers said that the last person they would approach, if
they needed help, would be the headmasters. They gave reasons. One was the
perception that the headmaster might be too busy. The other arose from the fear that
such a request for assistance would reﬂect negatively on themselves as teachers. For
example, Jo feared the headmaster might think that she was approaching him over a
petty problem. In Viji’s case, there was the subtle message that colleagues needed to
be used as resources first, "He has always said, ’Don’t be shy. Ask your colleagues.

Treat them as your friends, you know.” Thus, Jo and Viji’s positions on the

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hierarchy predisposed them to treat the headmaster in a very formal way. Although
both headmasters were perceived as friendly, there was the tacit understanding that
their friendliness could not be equated with encouragement to go directly to the top
when they experienced difﬁculties, even if the headmasters might be the best persons
to resolve their problems. But this tacit understanding is perceived by the beginning
teachers. We do not hear the voices of the headmasters, so we do not know if this
was the intended message.

Unfortunately, these tacit understandings persisted, sometimes with grave
consequences, as Viji’s story informed us. When Viji was unhappy with her teaching
schedule, and when she sensed unfairness, she left it to Encik Roselan, the ﬁrst senior
assistant, to speak to the headmaster on her behalf. The senior assistant did so but
achieved nothing. Viji remarked that there was no point for her to talk to the
headmaster herself as the senior assistant had already spoken on her behalf. She
reasoned that if he, as Senior Assistant 1, could not achieve anything, what could
talking with the headmaster achieve since she was new? Viji expressed resignation,
and even rationalized that if she took on the heavier workload without making a fuss,
she might learn to be more resilient in the future.

Viji’s father is a headmaster, her mother a teacher. Even with such a family
background, and amidst the feelings that something was amiss in the way work was
distributed, Viji did not bring her concerns to the head administrator. This suggests
her predisposition to observe the implicit entailments of her position on the lowest tier

of the school hierarchy. Viji wrote, "I found out that Rani and I had the most

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teaching periods. . . . Rani and I did not comment . . . in public but we agreed that
this was not fair, but since we were new, we had to c00perate" (Logs, February 1,
1996).

Had it been a matter of curriculum, it would have been more comprehensible.
The Malaysian education system is set up in such a way that for curricular matters,
teachers do not normally confer with the headmaster directly. That is the role of the
subject panel head: She is liaison between the subject panel members and the
headmaster. Headmasters, thus, interact with subject panel heads and not with
individual teachers in curricular affairs. In big schools particularly, this allows for
greater efﬁciency and uniformity as teachers carry out their work. But it is harder to
comprehend the situation when it came to matters that touched one personally, and
where the effects might be long-term, such as in the case of Viji as she faced a heavy
workload. Her heavy teaching schedule was in addition to an incredible list of
responsibilities outside the classroom as well (Table 4). Viji had explained her
reluctance to ask for the headmaster’s intervention because she was new and because
Senior Assistant 1, despite being in a position signifying a higher status than herself,
had had no success. It appeared, therefore, that the identity of "newness" in a teacher
could be a hindrance to one’s sense of agency. 'Newness" could be incapacitating.

My next point involves the nature of the reception that Jo and Viji experienced
when reporting for work. We are now looking at the administrators eellectively. How
did the beginning teachers perceive them as partners in running the school? And how

was this important to Jo and Viji?

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MW In Jo’s case, there was ample evidence that the three

administrators, despite differing ranks and job speciﬁcations, worked well together.
Three events illustrate this triumph of collegiality: (a) the nature of the ﬁrst meeting
between the administration and the beginning teachers, (b) the organized way in
which different administrators catered to the beginning teachers’ needs, and (0) my
impressions of them during my visits to school. We look at each in turn.

Jo’s ﬁrst meeting with the administration included all the three administrators.
This was a contrast to Viji’s experience. In Jo’s school, all were present to respond to
questions from the seven beginning teachers. Jo said that they also shared information
regarding their roles and made connections to what the beginning teachers would be
doing. This was crucial to the beginning teachers. They did not have to guess who the
best person was to refer to if they had a particular problem, such as classroom
management. They learned right from the start that Senior Assistant 2 was in charge
of student affairs and he was at their service should problems become unmanageable.
Beginning teachers at Jo’s school faced one less uncertainty during that difﬁcult phase
of their careers.

In Jo’s experiences, there was an organized way in which the administrators
catered to their needs. Senior Assistant 1 took the seven teachers on a tour of the
school during the ﬁrst day. She helped orient the teachers to their new environment.
Jo learned from the administrators themselves the perennial problem with parents, to
be conﬁrmed later by other colleagues. She knew that Mr. Chan, Senior Assistant 2,

would be the best person to consult if she had problems with classroom management.

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My story of Jo revealed instances when she did need his help, approached him, and

received assistance. The administration provided a safety valve for her as a beginner.
It lessened whatever psychological isolation she might have felt at the time.

Although my impressions are primarily based on data that Jo provided, my
strong conviction about them results from my on—site experiences. When I visited Jo’s
school the ﬁrst time, I prepared myself to be formal. But it was unnecessary. The
unusual sight of two senior assistants having a humorous debate about who, between
the two, I should interview, and then mutually agreeing that I might as well interview
both simultaneously, was signiﬁcant: It provided me with a unique opportunity to see
how two administrators would interact in a spontaneous three-way conference. Would
one be responding, and the other merely acknowledging when I posed a question?
Would one be saying one thing, only to have the other refute it, subtly or explicitly?
Or would they mutually support each other, and dissent diplomatically if they
disagreed with each other? My joint interview with the two senior assistants was an
opportunity to see, in action, acts of collegiality between two administrators. It was
crucial to my research interests in collegiality enacted in the Malaysian hierarchical
school structure.

The three-way interview was a novel experience. One administrator would say
something, and I could see the other eager to agree or to elaborate. Sometimes,
opinions differed, but they were presented in a considerate and sensitive way. They
was laughter and humor amidst seriousness throughout the interview. Through the

three-way conversation, I perceived them as colleagues. I saw them as colleagues. I

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heard them as colleagues. I felt that they were good models for those junior to them,
on the hierarchy, to work together.

In Viji’s school, as 1 illustrate below, the situation was the opposite.

PW The situation was ambiguous when I visited
Viji’s school and spoke with the headmaster on January 12, 1996. Although the
headmaster was friendly, pleasant, and extremely polite to me, I could not tell what
the nature of the partnership among the administrators was. In Jo’s situation, I not
only had a three-way interview with the two senior assistants, I also had a three-way
conversation with the headmaster and Senior Assistant 2. In Viji’s school, the
headmaster was generous with his time. The interview was unhurried. But he did not
introduce either senior assistant to me. I had only a couple of words with Senior
Assistant 1 when Rani, Jo’s friend and fellow beginning teacher, introduced us in the
teachers’ common room. Rani introduced me to every teacher who came into the
common room when I was there. Viji was in class then. But when Senior Assistant 2
came in, there was unusual silence. We were not introduced.

I perceived little evidence of a close-knit partnership among the three
administrators from data that Viji provided me. On Viji and Rani’s second day of
work, the headmaster called them for a meeting. But the headmaster talked with them
alone. The two senior assistants were not there to brief the two beginning teachers on
their respective roles and responsibilities, and this stood out as a contrast to Jo’s
experience. No one took the two teachers on a tour of the school on their ﬁrst day of

work when the headmaster was away.

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Even more seriously, the roles and responsibilities held by the two senior
assistants seemed confused: Viji was once denied assistance in a classroom
management problem despite the fact that she sought help from Senior Assistant 2,
the latter being in charge of student affairs and school discipline. Only when this
senior assistant was put in a position where refusing would reﬂect badly on her did
she help Viji out the second time the latter sought help.

Further, matters regarding teaching schedules were the responsibility of Senior
Assistant 1. Yet it was Senior Assistant 2 and another colleague who simultaneously
worked on the same matter, embarrassing him (Senior Assistant 1) subsequently when
they issued new teaching schedules ahead of him. Rani commented regretfully: ”They
made him look like a fool. " This echoed what Viji had said, "He was embarrassed."
The resignation of Senior Assistant 1 made it believable that Viji and Rani were not
exaggerating. Viji might have hit the nail on the head when, as I noted earlier, she
alluded to the need to have a stronger headmaster in the school, "That garden
desperately needs a good gardener. "

When Viji ﬁrst reﬂected on her feelings before starting her ﬁrst day at work,
Viji had expressed hopes that colleagues would be friendly. Her self-image as ”baby"
in the profession also expressed a kind of dependence on others to model for her
appropriate professional behaviors. But, looking at Viji’s experiences, the top tier of
the school hierarchy (i.e., the administrators) failed to live up to her hopes: They

neither practiced collegiality among themselves nor did they practice it in their

dealings with the vulnerable new members of the profession, namely Viji and Rani. In

 

210

short, they did not model collegiality for Viji, and not doing so had repercussions on
her life as a beginning teacher. Her only recourse regarding her heavy teaching
schedule were the administrators, but she could not bring herself to talk with them.
She had thought that her primary recourse regarding her management concerns was
Senior Assistant 2 since she was the Discipline Teacher, but discovered that she could
not count on it either.

Viji’s case dramatically contrasted Jo’s where the latter’s administrators
modeled acts of collegiality such as were evident to me during our three-way
conference. Further, Jo gave us clear examples of how one of the administrators
practiced collegiality in terms of intervening in her classroom management problems
whenever she sought help. Jo’s other administrators were also approachable except
that Jo chose not to ”trouble” them. Collectively, these administrators modeled for lo
a collegial culture that was sadly absent in Viji’s context.

Jo and Viji’s accounts involving administrators have two important messages.
First, Jo and Viji’s stories illustrate the triumph and failure of collegiality within the
top tier of the school hierarchy respectively. Second, hierarchies do not invariably
fail--but mm within hierarchies might.

Intergagiehs m’ h Eamrieneed Qelleagues: The Middle Tier

The stories of Jo and Viji revealed a unique feature regarding the enactment of

collegiality by the middle tier of experienced teachers in the context of beginners.

This touches on the issue of teacher differentiation.

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memes-steam Ordinarily, within a hierarchy, teachers

might be differentiated by a number of factors: knowledge, expertise, seniority of
service, or job speciﬁcations. And this might ordinarily be evident in the positions
that teachers held in subject panels and other teacher committees. Thus, one
reasonable conclusion would be that although the Malaysian subject panel uniﬁes all
subject teachers by providing a structure for them to work together on curricular
matters, the same structure might simultaneously differentiate them according to the
positions that they held within the organization. In other words, one might ordinarily
expect the panel heads and panel secretaries to be senior teachers. This assumption
would be normal if we revisited the information in Chapter 2 about the multiple roles
of a panel head: that she acts as (a) administrator, (b) planner, (c) resource manager,
((1) coordinator in student evaluation, and (e) mentor or guide (Table 1).

Explicit or deliberate differentiation among teachers in schools has been the
target of criticism. In the United States, for instance, proposals for three-tier and two-
tier systems, differentiating teachers (e.g., Holmes Group, 1986; Carnegie Forum on
Education and the Economy, 1986), came under heavy ﬁre (e. g., Labaree, 1992).
Setting teachers apart through knowledge, expertise, academic qualiﬁcations, and
other differentials understandably invites criticism.

When I started this study, I reﬂected on the issue of differentiation. First,
within the three-tier hierarchical structure that I have identiﬁed in Malaysian schools,
was there harmful differentiation between experienced and beginning teachers (i.e.,

other than through extent of teaching experience)? Second, if so, what was the nature

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of this differentiation? Finally, what were the inﬂuences of differentiation--or non-
differentiation, if that be the case--on the professional lives of the ﬁrst-year teachers?

Jo and Viji’s cases are fascinating. Ofﬁcially, they are lowest on the hierarchy
of certiﬁed teachers. In Malaysian terminology, they are ”unconﬁrmed teachers," or
teachers still ”under probation. " The probationary period is usually three years.
During this period, a number of procedures pave the way for them to become
"conﬁrmed." These include interviews by outside panels as a ﬁrst step. Both Jo and
Viji attended these interviews while my research was in progress, as did all other
beginning teachers in the study. Aside from these interviews, administrators would, at
a later time, also observe Jo and Viji’s classroom instruction as well as assess their
performance along other criteria. Thus, differentiation between them and conﬁrmed
teachers was present in terms of ofﬁcial documentation and procedures.

But interestingly, their positions at the bottom of the hierarchy did not include
differentiation in positions that teachers held in teacher committees. In the context of
teacher committees, the most crucial curriculum-oriented committee being the subject
panels, there seemed an absence of differentiation among teachers according to
knowledge and expertise. Jo and Viji held positions of importance such as English
panel secretaries and art panel head (Vij i). This struck me as a contrast to the Chinese
case where certain positions such as the head of a teaching research group and
”backbone teachers” were differentiated from other teachers (Paine & Ma, 1993). The
absence of differentiation between the beginning teachers and experienced teachers

(i.e., the middle tier) is a contrast to the top tier where the positions of Headmaster,

213

Senior Assistant 1, and Senior Assistant 2 signiﬁed different statuses and powers.

It was interesting that W of differentiation (e. g., in knowledge or
expertise) between experienced and beginning teachers occurred largely from the eyes
of the beginning teachers themselves, and seldom from the eyes of the experienced
teachers. I heard beginning teachers talk about being uncertain, about not knowing
what to do with class registers and teachers’ record books, and about wondering
whether they were doing things correctly. But I did not hear the experienced teachers
whom I talked with expressing the same views that the new teachers were lacking in
knowledge or expertise. On the contrary, through both Jo and Viji’s accounts of
interactions with experienced teachers, and through my own in interviewing their
colleagues, I heard an eepesi_te message. Below I share evidence that the experienced
teachers did not perceive either Jo or Viji as less knowledgeable or needy or deﬁcient
in comparison to themselves. We start with Jo.

Wain When I talked with the
experienced colleagues in Jo’s school, their comments paralleled the ﬁrst senior
assistant’s remarks (made during the three-way conference with the two senior
assistants) that the school looked forward to new graduates from college because they
wanted to tap their energy, enthusiasm, and up-to—date ideas. I spoke with two highly
respected colleagues, Cik Noor (the English panel head), and Mrs. Diana (co-advisor
for the English language Society and the most experienced English teacher in the
school).

I asked the panel head many questions including the following: (a) When

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beginning teachers attended panel meetings, what did she observe about their
participation? (b) Professionally speaking, what was her view of beginning teachers in
comparison to experienced teachers? (c) What did she feel free to share regarding her
professional relationship with Jo? To the ﬁrst question, Cik Noor responded that
during the ﬁrst few meetings, ﬁrst-year teachers tended not to say much, but this
changed with time. This response was in the context of Cik Noor’s past experiences
and was unrelated to Jo. To the second question, Cik Noor said that beginning
teachers were fresh from college, were full of enthusiasm, had a lot of energy, and
this was the ”best time to do things." Interestingly, she volunteered the remark that
experienced teachers might not have these qualities anymore. And to the ﬁnal
question, Cik Noor responded that Jo handled herself well and that she had a lot of
respect for Jo. Whenever she gave Jo something to do, she ﬁnished it fast, and "she
never says no. " Except for comments like, as panel head, she was there to help
beginning teachers, and that she was approachable for ”opinions and advice,” Cik
Noor gave no other comments that I would associate with teacher differentiation by
knowledge or expertise.

The conversation with Mrs. Diana, the school’s most experienced English
teacher, was most revealing. She started off saying, ”I’m a colleague; I also need
help.” Mrs. Diana explained that she had been given Year 6 classes, the only grade
preparing for national examinations as it was the last year of elementary school. She
explained that despite her experience, she felt afraid to be in sole charge of Year 6.

She wished that Jo also taught Year 6. That way, she would be able to consult and

215

work together with Jo. From interactions with Jo, Mrs. Diana learned that Jo knew
the Year 6 syllabus well, and was able to judge the quality of some workbooks
critically. Mrs. Diana reiterated that if Jo were to teach Year 6 as well, that would
have lightened her problem of having sole responsibility for Year 6. In the course of
the conversation, I learned that Jo volunteered her Saturdays to help the Year 6
students out. It indicated, for me, a powerful gesture of colleagueship.

Mrs. Diana highlighted Jo’s qualities as a beginning teacher: She was
energetic, dedicated, and capable; she was full of life; she could be a model teacher;
and she would do her best for her pupils. Further, Mrs. Diana said that she told Jo,
"I’m going to learn from you.” Mrs. Diana also remarked, ”The younger teachers can
give me ideas."

I further learned from talking with Mrs. Diana that Jo combined two classes
once because another teacher was absent, and she could handle both classes
simultaneously. She commented that Jo was conﬁdent, and that it was this quality--her
projection of conﬁdence-that led to her unanimous election as English panel
secretary. Mrs. Diana concluded by saying that Jo could handle a lot of things, was
dependable, and that she had a very high opinion of her.

These two teachers’ comments about Jo invite reﬂections regarding this
question, ”Does hierarchy invariably incur problems of teacher differentiation (e. g.,
according to knowledge and expertise)?" In Jo’s case, this did not seem to happen.
She was junior in service, she was still ”on probation," and she was at the bottom of

the hierarchy—-but she held the important position of panel secretary, and she was

216

viewed by the two most prominent English teachers as an equal and as a partner, not
as a needy or deﬁcient member of the staff.

This absence of differentiation in knowledge or expertise between experienced
and beginning teachers was a revelation to myself. I went into the ﬁeld with ideas
somewhat like Jo, Viji, and the other participants, that they were "rookies, " as
Americans would say. It would be incorrect to say that differentiation did not happen
because Jo was exceptional since Viji’s case also had very similar elements.

Viji; Shﬂﬂ' g the "baby" mgena, Viji was only 21 years old when she
graduated from the teachers’ college, the youngest in her cohort. She had no prior
work experience and thought of herself as a ”baby.” That was her persona, signifying
certain predispositions as her teacher, but it was a persona that few experienced
colleagues associated with her. The following events stand as evidence that even
Viji’s case escaped teacher differentiation in terms of knowledge or expertise: (a) her
conversation with Puan Rozana regarding music instruction, (b) a colleague’s request
for Viji’s help in music instruction and English, (o) my conversation with Encik
Zainal, Viji’s colleague, regarding "new brooms" that sweep clean, and (d) Viji’s
appointment as art panel head.

Viji spoke with Puan Rozana at a school assembly on her ﬁrst day of work.
They introduced themselves, and the conversation ﬂowed. Puan Rozana explained that
she had taught for some years, but not music which she would now have to teach.
She asked if Viji knew anything about music instruction. Viji, who had taken private

music lessons and played the organ (a musical instrument), answered that she had

217

taught music during her practica. Viji proceeded to describe a three-week unit on
music that she once taught. Puan Rozana listened to Viji, and then said that she would
try out Viji’s instructional ideas. The comment was important because it made Viji
feel that she was at par with other teachers:

She was telling me that she was given music and she didn’t know how to go
about it. She asked me whether I know anything about music. And I said "Ya”
because I’ve taught music during my practical . . . . I was surprised. She
hardly knew me. She was an experienced teacher with about . . . eight to nine
years of experience . . . and she was asking me, a newcomer who doesn’t
know anything. . . . We were talking about ourselves, our background and all
that. . . . I felt at home because I didn’t feel that I was new there after all. . .
. I felt that he was rson wh res ec m n me

gelleague. And I was very happy about it because all this while I still felt like
a trainee, you see. I didn’t feel like I was a real teacher yet. . . . Suddenly, I
felt like ene ef them. (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

The second incident was similar in terms of making Viji feel that she was one
of them, with knowledge to share. But this was more signiﬁcant because it was not a
conversation that came about by chance. Here, an experienced colleague intentionally
sought Viji’s help on music instruction and English:
Then another person said, "I really need your help. " I showed him what I
knew (about music). ”If you don’t mind," he said, "I really want to learn.” . .
. I thought it was nice of him to acknowledge me. He said there’s a lot to
learn from me. He said, "I can also learn English from you.” I said, ”I’m here
to learn from you" H t e lik rof i --lik l--like I’m
m. That it’s all right to make mistakes. And he’s not embarrassed to
ask, never mind if you’re older or younger. (Third Interview, December 31,
1995)
The third incident is my conversation with Encik Zainal, a teacher nearing
retirement. Encik Zainal commented that his view of new teachers was like the

saying, ”new brooms sweep clean.” Rather than assume shared meaning, I asked him

to elaborate. He said that Viji had new ideas from college, that these ideas should not

218

be trivialized, and that new teachers should be encouraged to try them out. He
implied that people like him did not possess these novel ideas. Again, there was
conﬁrmation that colleagues looked up to beginning teachers as they had much to
offer in the form of new instructional ideas.

Finally, a look at Viji’s responsibilities in out-of-classroom contexts indicate
the absence of differentiation according to knowledge or expertise. The teachers
elected her art panel head, much to her surprise because this had serious implications.
It meant that she had certain powers and that experienced teachers would have to
listen to her, a beginner:

I was shocked--everybody wanted me to be the ”panitia" (panel) head. What

was a great shock was that they all agreed to work under me. My parents are

teachers, and I know that those who have seniority don’t like to be bossed, or
have someone who is new, be a leader to them. . . . What I say is important

now, and they have to listen to me. (Third Interview, December 31, 1995)

Based on the above interactions between the beginning teachers and the middle
tier on the school hierarchy, that being the experienced teachers, the absence of
differentiation according to stratifying measures like knowledge and expertise is a
compelling feature. It suggests, as in the case of collegiality enacted by
administrators, that hierarchy, by itself, does not determine the quality of the
enactment of collegiality among experienced and beginning teachers--but retathms
within hierarchy do.

i w'hFellee' ' T hrs' B mT‘ir

Of the three categories of colleagues, the most powerful, in terms of collegial

interactions, was the last: fellow beginning teachers. The situations in the two

219

contexts were very different, yet incredibly similar. Initially, Jo had six other
beginning teachers with her, and this number increased to ten subsequently. Among
the eleven beginning teachers, only two were in TESL, Jo and Rena. In Viji’s case,
in consideration of the school enrollment being small, there was only one other
beginning teacher, Rani. Rani was also in TESL. Just as Jo and Rena soon became
good friends, so did Viji and Rani.

Aff’ﬂ' y: king in the sme beat, I have shared a little in ”Jo’s Story”
regarding the relationship between Jo and her fellow beginning teachers. Brieﬂy, Jo
found afﬁnity with them, particularly in the early days. She informed me that often
she would see them ﬁrst and talk with them before deciding whether to approach
more experienced people for advice. Among themselves, they felt free to express their
inadequacies and uncertainties. Jo said that their concerns were similar, particularly in
the early weeks when a lot dealt with learning the ropes such as closing monthly class
registers or ﬁlling in teachers’ record books. Jo and the beginning teachers looked out
for one another, all of them being "in the same boat.”

”Being in the same boat" was the most commonly used ﬁgurative expression in
the whole study. Jo used it, as did Viji, Ruby, Leela, and Devi in separate
conversations. Rena and Rani also used the idiomatic expression. Thus, the expression
deserves closer attention. The primary feature is afﬁnity with others. In Malaysian
usage, my understanding of the term includes a My that one makes udthethees at
the same time and to the same destination. More than this, the expression usually

carries with it the conditions under which the journey is undertaken--and conditions at

220
sea sometimes implies the idea of W. Thus, knowing the stories
of Jo and Viji, the expression, used so naturally by one and all, was most ﬁtting.

With fellow beginning teachers, Rena (in Jo’s case) and Rani (in Viji’s),
perhaps another feature of their relationships calls for extra attention. This is the
remarkable guuheﬂ of their relationships.

WW Jo and Viji arranged for me to
have interviews with Rena and Rani, respectively. These interviews were fascinating.
Reha shared details of her relationship with Jo in words that sounded truly similar to
Jo’s descriptions. Rena also gave a very similar picture of what it was like to work at
their school. As for Rand at Bamboo Grove Primary School, she mentioned how glad
she was that Viji was her friend and colleague. She talked about the workplace
environment in a manner that showed that Viji had not exaggerated the distressing
situation that she and Rani found themselves in.

We look ﬁrst at the Jo-Rena pair. Some of Rena’s remarks could very well
have been Jo’s. There was the same expression of relief that there was another
beginning English teacher in her midst, the same kind of excitement, curiosity, and
uncertainty working in a new school, and the very same surprise when Rena found
that the colleagues were ”very nice,” despite being ”KL (i.e., Kuala Lumpur)
people." In other words, there was symmetry in terms of feelings associated with
their identities of ”newness”:

I met her (Jo) on my ﬁrst day here. . . . She had this very bright smile the

moment she saw me. She said, ”So you’re Rena?” I was stunned....It’s nice to

see another person who’s also an English teacher because I was thinking I
would be the only one here. . . . Immediately we became friends. . . . We had

221

the same kind of feelings . . . excited . . . curious to know what’s going to

happen. . . . We don’t know anything about the school, and how the teachers

are going to be, here. . . . I also come from the northern area. They said KL
people are not so friendly. They are more of, like, self-centered, you know,
they’re not so helpful. . . . But it was like the other way around. They were

all very nice. (Rena, Interview, January 15, 1996).

Similarly, as I shift to the Viji-Rani pair, it is easy to see how much Rani
sounded like Viji in talking about the latter:

She’s open-minded. I feel she’s open-minded, like me. We talk things out. We

can sort of like get an answer once we talk, you know. And she’s a good

listener. She listens. And she faces the same problems that I do here in this
school. . . . She understands me very well, you see. Whatever I tell her, she

knows, because she’s also in the same boat. We are in the same boat. . . .

She’s sort of like me. (Rani, Interview, January 12, 1996)

The convergence of thought and opinions evident in Rena and Rani’s
reﬂections on their respective relationships with Jo and Viji provided valuable
conﬁrmation regarding the nature of the relationships between the two pairs. But
more important than veriﬁcation of data provided by Jo and Viji was an acute
awareness, especially in the case of Viji and Rani, that their relationship was vital in
helping them cope with any psychological isolation that they might be experiencing.
They clearly needed each other. The consolation of knowing that there was another
person experiencing the same needs, the same problems, and the same fears and
uncertainties appeared in their faces and in their words.

Viji and Rani’s circumstances were such that both felt that their identities of

newness led to their heavier revised teaching schedules. Their circumstances merit

special discussion.

222
Smetg: Viji and Ram’, Viji and Rani expressed trust in each other, an

incredible achievement considering that they had known each other for only a month
when I interviewed Rani. They mutually supported each other, and they cared for
each other. What brought them even closer together were their perceptions of
unfairness resulting from their positions as beginning teachers. They both believed
that the primary reason for having heavier teaching assignments was that they were
fresh from college and thus had more energy and newer ideas about teaching.

Theirs was a powerful symmetrical relationship. Symmetry was evident in
many ways. First, 5 mme was evident in the su th th ave h er in
W, bearing in mind their complex instructional context of teaching
English in an impoverished English language environment:

Rani: I think other teachers . . . they are so used to it when they meet (weak)
students like this. They don’t really pay much attention. . . . They say,

"Okay, they can’t write, let them be.” Whereas for me and Viji, sing
we ate still fresh frem mllege, we feel it’s imeegant, yeu knew. We

do something about this rather than leave them like that. (Interview,
January 12, 1996)

Viji: I can connect very strongly with Rani. She’s just like me right now.
She wants her pupils to learn from her, to be able to accept what she’s

teaching. . . . I’ve heard her teaehing. he ver and ov r
the same minguuhtil they gn get it right. . . . I like to stand on the

veranda and watch what’s going on . . . because her class is
down(stairs). . . . Here, we don’t close the doors; it’s open so we can

watch whatever is going on. . . . I see a eersen eut mere whe’s ging
m n r n and I feel I’m doing what she’s

in I n’flmeffr w ....Wesharethesame
anxieties right now. (Entry Interview, December 12, 1995)

 

Next, there was symmem in terms ef emetiehs. They faced similar

frustrations and were able to share these with each other because of mutual trust:

Rani:

Viji:

223

It’s better for us to let it out. If not, I’ve to take it home and then it
piles up in me. It’s better to let it out. . . . We were very new . . . .
Both of us felt . . . since we’re fresh from college, we were being sort
of like being pushed around. Do this . . . we were also shouted at . . .
we were not told in a nice manner. . . . I don’t usually go and tell this
to other teachers though the teachers are nice to me, but still water runs
deep, right? . . . The best thing is tell Viji. She’s also like me.
(Interview, January 12, 1996)

We learned that we have lots of things in common. . . . We were able
to converse freely. I noticed that I was very comfortable with her and
we could talk about almost anything. (Viji, Logs, January 19, 1996)

There was symmeuy in their diseesitious. They knew each other’s moods,

when it was best to keep quiet, and when it was time to chat and laugh:

Rani:

Viji:

She’s a bit cranky like me . . . very jovial. Sometimes we’ve our own
moods. . . . If we’re not in the mood, we’ll just keep quiet, look at
each other, stare at each other--that means we’re not in the mood. But
when we’re in the mood, we’ll be talking and laughing. We won’t
bother about other teachers. Whether they like it or not, we don’t care.
We’ll just burst out laughing. And we’ll make others join us. They’ll
be laughing. They won’t know the joke but they’ll join us and laugh.
So that’s how I enjoy her company. (Interview, January 12, 1996)

From the very beginning, we took it for granted that we would be
together. Now with the new timetables, we don’t have the chance to
meet. But during recess or whenever, we would be talking and
laughing. Others talk about us, When both of you meet, you always
talk. (Round-Table Conference, February 15, 1996).

When considering colleagues occupying all three tiers of the hierarchy, the

fellow beginning teacher, Rena in Jo’s case and Rani in Viji’s, seemed the closest

colleague.

This brings us to a major question in this study: In the combined context of

the two beginning Malaysian teachers, what emerges as deﬁning collegiality?

Internationally, investigators seek answers to the very question of what deﬁnes

224

collegiality. Thus, in the next section of my deeper story, I respond to the question of
what collegiality is by identifying dimensions of collegiality traceable to Jo and Viji’s
experiences. I use the term ”dimensions” of collegiality to indicate that what emerges
as collegiality in my research context are not ﬁxed measurements of relations
involving colleagues. Rather, I indicate a range of possibilities and limits. Thus, I
conceptualize collegiality in ﬂuid rather than static measurements of relations between
and among colleagues.

Dime io f II 'a ’

In the course of conducting this study, and based on my educational
experiences in Malaysia as well as the United States, I became sharply aware of two
contrasting backdrops to teachers’ professional work in schools: the almost uniform
backdrop of isolation in American schools and the backdrop of obligatory cooperation
among colleagues in Malaysian schools. In many American schools, teachers are
colleagues only in name; they work ”out of sight and hearing of one another, plan and
prepare their lessons and materials alone, and struggle on their own to solve most of
their instructional, curricular, and management problems” (Little, 1987, p. 491). This
backdrop of isolated work, regarded as almost uniform in American schools, would
look unfamiliar to the two Malaysian ﬁrst-year teachers, Jo and Viji. From their
perspectives, a contrasting backdrop exists: Teachers are colleagues by necessity; they
work in open—door classrooms, within sight and hearing of one another; they discuss
and share instructional and curricular matters during panel meetings, and they have

their colleagues as recourse in order to solve their instructional, curricular, and

225

management problems.

This sharp contrast between the backdrops of isolated work in most American
schools and cooperation in Jo and Viji’s schools invites an appreciation of the practice
of collegiality in facilitating teacher growth, but with a caveat that it is inherently
problematic. In schools like Jo and Viji’s, ﬁrst-year teachers’ professional practice
involves and demands collegial relations of a substantial kind. Successful professional
experiences for beginning teachers call for ceasequehtiat collegial relations with
experienced teachers as well as with administrators, that is, collegial relations that are
related to achievement of goals.

Based on Jo and Viji’s experiential accounts, three dimensions of collegiality
have the potential for fostering successful professional practice for beginning teachers.
These are: (a) reciprocity in talk and in action, ranging from formal to informal
situations; (b) mediation in teacher practice, ranging from sharing to direct
intervention; and (c) moral and psychological support, ranging from encouragement to
empathy and concern. I examine each of these dimensions in turn, using examples
from the beginning teachers’ experiences to illustrate.

Rgiergu’ty in Talk and Agion

This ﬁrst dimension, reciprocity, includes reciprocal talk and reciprocal action
between beginning teachers and colleagues. It is traceable to formal as well as
informal interactions.

Reciprocity i_n_tal_k manifests itself in terms of demonstrating mutual respect in

oral transactions, even if the communicants are differentiated by extent of professional

226

experience. Such reciprocity in talk plays a major role in the lives of beginning
teachers: They begin to feel a sense of self-worth when they are recognized as full-
ﬂedged teachers or as worthy members of the teaching community. Jo and Viji had
experiences where reciprocity in talk was evident, as I later illustrate. Some of their
experiences occupy the upper end of the reciprocity dimension. If I widen my sample
a little, Ruby’s early experiences (e. g., a colleague’s comments to her that she had
better make sure that her Year 3A1 students became better in English, and ”not
worse") provided evidence of the lower end of the reciprocity dimension.

Reciprocity i_n_am extends from resolutions to reciprocate on the lower end
(e. g., Viji’s resolution to write about a helpful colleague for publication so as to ”hold
a memory") to actual reciprocal acts (e.g., Jo reciprocates Mrs. Diana’s colleagueship
by teaching the latter’s Year 6 students on Saturdays).

I now provide a grounded discussion of the reciprocity dimension.
Reeiergwity in talk, Within Jo and Viji’s experiences, there are many
instances of reciprocity in talk, resulting in feelings of self-worth. In these instances,
Jo and Viji learned that their ideas and knowledge were respected and were valuable

to the persons that they were communicating with. It assured them that their
colleagues were not invariably at the giving end, and they at the receiving end.
Examples of reciprocity in talk involve both formal and informal interactions.
At the formal end, reciprocity in talk was evident at Jo’s ﬁrst English panel meeting.
Her original intent of keeping quiet on the belief that that was appropriate beginning

teacher behavior could not be translated into practice. This was because her fellow

227

panelists had no shared conception that beginning teachers should be silent
participants at panel discussions. They prompted Jo to share ideas of activities that
could be carried out to enhance the teaching and learning of the English language.
Knowing Jo’s biographical background as one who loved to talk and had the talents to
do so (e. g., she was the lead speaker for the college debating team), it was not
surprising that Jo offered her ideas in language teaching freely, ideas that were still
new and fresh since she had just left college. Reciprocity existed in the active
interchange of ideas among Jo and her colleagues, a great contrast to Ruby’s
experiences, which I described in Chapter 4, when the latter was $1M to carry out
certain activities in a school-wide literacy event rather than experiment with her own
ideas. Thus, there are possibilities and limits to reciprocity in formal talk involving
beginning teachers. Jo’s experience shows the upper end of the dimension, and
Ruby’s, the lower end.

Events such as the above where oral discourse with colleagues gave Jo a sense
of self-worth, or of being an equal member of the teaching community, were often
less formal. For example, Jo talked about conversations with Mrs. Diana and the high
regard they had for each other, though the former was the least experienced and the
other was the most experienced in the school in terms of English literacy instruction.
My interview with Mrs. Diana also conﬁrmed the reciprocal relationship between
them in terms of mutual respect during informal social exchanges.

I move to Viji’s case to see if similar reciprocity was evident, and whether it

mattered to her growth as a teacher. Examples involving Viji where reciprocity in talk

228

contributed to feelings of self-worth focused primarily on music instruction. Music
was not Viji’s major, but Viji seemed competent in the area. One example includes
the ﬁrst conversation with Puan Rozana during a school assembly where the latter’s
self-introduction (as an experienced teacher but new to music instruction) and
respectful manner of communication contributed to Viji’s sudden feeling that she no
longer felt like a ”trainee." But a more powerful example would be a male
colleague’s request that Viji helped him in music instruction and English. The oral
exchange, which underscored his respect for and recognition of Viji’s competence,
surprised and pleased Viji greatly. Viji reﬂected that the male colleague’s attitude
indicated a belief that learning was ”two-way,” regardless of age or experience. It
pleased her tremendously that there was such recognition of her knowledge by an
experienced teacher, and that they could mutually learn from each other. Viewing
reciprocity as a dimension of collegiality, this experienced teacher was a colleague to
Viji.

Reg’ergwh y in agion. The reciprocity between Jo and Mrs. Diana that I
discussed earlier was also manifested in action, and in formal situations. Mrs. Diana
and Jo co—ran the English Language Society for students, and Jo reﬂected that in
carrying out her role as co—advisor, she felt ”no pressure” working with Mrs. Diana.
She remarked that the former always sought her opinions and views in the planning
and running of activities for the society members. The arrangement was that Mrs.
Diana would conduct the ﬁrst few meetings, and Jo could take over subsequently.

Aside from this, Mrs. Diana assisted Jo in tangible and informal ways as well, such

229

as lending her an old record book, a personal possession, as well as making some
other instructional resources available to the younger teacher (e. g., workbooks). Jo, in
turn, could be seen as reciprocating in a formal way by volunteering help in teaching
Mrs. Diana’s Year 6 students on Saturdays, in preparation for national testing in
September.

In Viji’s case, there is an instance of reciprocity in action that was i_n_ipl_ie_d,
but not (yet) accomplished. Viji talked at great length about the assistance that Puan
Rozana gave her in preparation for conducting her ﬁrst art panel meeting. Viji viewed
Puan Rozana’s action as being in one direction: Puan Rozana gave and Viji received.
Thus, Viji felt the need to reciprocate in action, and she gave a hint of how she could
possibly accomplish that in a formal manner: She resolved to write about her for
publication so that she could ”hold the memory” of Puan Rozana’s gesture of
colleagueship. Thus, reciprocity in action seemed to range from W
W, as illustrated in Viji’s case, to aemahiyeeimtjeu in Jo’s case. And
reciprocity in action could be enacted in formal or informal ways. Thus, reciprocity is
a ”dimension” rather than a ﬁxed feature.

Using reciprocity as a dimension of collegiality, Jo’s fellow English panelists,
as demonstrated in their way of communication during a panel meeting, were
colleagues. Mrs. Diana, based on the nature of her relationship with Jo (involving
both talk and action), was a colleague. In Viji’s case, using the same reciprocity
dimension of collegiality, Puan Rozana and the other experienced male teacher were

colleagues, too.

230

I now move to a second dimension of collegiality, namely mediation in
beginning teacher practice.

Mediatien in B__e2ir_ihie2 Teaeher Praetig

In American literature on teacher induction, much has been written on the lack
of mediation in a beginning teacher’s entry into the profession. Unlike entry into
other professions like medicine, entry into teaching has been interestingly labeled as
”unmediated" (Lortie, 1975). The tone in much writing on the abrupt entry into
teaching has often been critical (Ryan, 1970; Lortie, 1975). Literature on mentoring
focuses on examples where steps have been taken to provide helpful mediation
(Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1992; Anderson & Shannon, 1988).

Mediation in beginning teacher practice is another dimension of collegiality
that deserves attention. Jo and Viji’s experiences illustrate that, like reciprocity,
mediation in teacher practice occupies a range. At the lower end, mediation could
take the form of conversations initiated for speciﬁc purposes. At the upper end,
mediation could involve direct intervention that beginning teachers solicit from
experienced teachers or administrators. I explore this range to illustrate how
beginning teachers may beneﬁt from colleagues through mediated entries into
professional practice. There are three areas where mediation seems important: (a)
classroom management, (b) curricular and instructional matters, and (c) professional
responsibilities in collectivistic settings.

WW I am reminded of empirical accounts

where beginning teachers painfully struggle on their own in terms of classroom

231

management (e. g., Marshall, 1972; Featherstone, 1992). Professional teacher practice
in such contexts demanded independence in coping with management problems.
Lacking such independence might reﬂect unfavorably on them as teachers.

In terms of facing problems in classroom management, Jo and Viji were not
spared. Classroom management was a matter of serious concern. However, the
culture of most Malaysian schools is such that management problems of a more
serious nature are generally referred to one speciﬁc school administrator, namely
Senior Assistant 2, who is in charge of student affairs. Thus, mediation in
management matters is not generally looked upon as indications of incompetence,
especially in the case of beginning teachers.

As with reciprocity, mediation is a dimension. In the context of management
matters, the upper end is solicited intervention by the administrator in charge of
student affairs. This ofﬁcer intervenes in within-classroom discipline problems only
on request by teachers. His or her attitude toward requests for intervention, and the
action that he or she actually takes, reﬂect the quality of collegiality that he or she
enacts. In the stories of Jo and Viji, there are examples that fall within the whole
dimension of mediation. Puan Siti, Senior Assistant 2 at Viji’s school, would be on
the lower end. On one occasion, she refused to intervene when Viji solicited help
with classroom management, embarrassing the young teacher who had to seek
alternative resources. On another occasion, she did so only because she noted that
other colleagues were getting up to go to Viji’s aid when it was clearly her

responsibility to do so. At the upper end of mediation through solicited intervention is

232

Jo’s case. Mr. Chan, Senior Assistant 2, entertained every request for intervention,
and kept assuring Jo that he was there whenever Jo needed help. If we use mediation
as a dimension of collegiality, then Mr. Chan was a colleague in the way that Puan
Siti did not seem to be. The two administrators from two different schools occupied
the two extreme ends of the mediation dimension of collegiality.

However, mediation in classroom management need not necessitate direct
intervention, and need not invariably involve the upper tier of administrators only.
While the second senior assistant is ofﬁcially the best person to provide a range of
mediation--from talking and counseling to direct intervention--other colleagues also
play a role. In Jo and Viji’s cases, ordinary colleagues certainly offered a form of
mediation in classroom management. They did this effectively through sharing stories,
informal counseling, and also direct intervention (i.e., in Viji’s case when the second
senior assistant refused help the ﬁrst time).

In Jo’s context, mediation in classroom management started off subtly in very
early conversations with the collective group of administrators. During the very ﬁrst
meeting with the three administrators on Jo’s ﬁrst day at work, the seven beginning
teachers were briefed on the culture of the school. Of the things that Jo remembered
clearly was the caution that the headmaster gave about managing children. He
cautioned them not "to touch the children." Thus, this was mediation of a subtle kind
before management problems actually arose. The fact that the headmaster reminded
them that the administrators’ doors were open in case of problems with managing

children amounted to collegiality being well enacted. Further, the headmaster was not

233

the only one to remind the teachers that they were approachable; all three
administrators, on different occasions, had extended the same assurance.

Aside from administrators, experienced colleagues also provided mediation
through talk. For instance, Jo had expressed relief when she discovered that ”the new
teachers as well as the old teachers" talked about their problems in "how to control
the boys. " These common-room sharings provided mediation in terms of ideas and
pitfalls in managing students. Those experienced teachers who, in an unabashed
manner, shared their experiences in classroom management problems were colleagues
along the mediation dimension of collegiality.

Viji also provided examples where colleagues could be easily identiﬁed along
this same dimension of collegiality. During the ﬁrst instance when the second senior
assistant let Viji down by refusing to intervene in her classroom management
problem, another colleague had come to her aid. Viji remarked that she had observed
how he spoke with the boy who had been disrupting her lessons. The colleague had
also helped Viji by giving her some tips about what to do in future incidents. A
second incident involving the same boy happened. Viji informed me that this time
around, though the second senior assistant was in the common room, she did not
solicit her help directly, but instead openly addressed the few teachers in the common
room. She remarked that "the teachers were getting up" to go to her aid before the
second senior assistant decided that she should intervene as that was her ofﬁcial
responsibility. The teachers who had indicated willingness to help (by getting up) or

who did help (the colleague who helped the ﬁrst time) were colleagues along the

234

mediation dimension of collegiality. Mediation in classroom management by
colleagues was crucial to the young teacher. It is believed that classroom management
is a complex matter for novices, and often teachers cannot focus on subject-matter
instruction unless management ceases to be a serious problem (Fuller & Brown, 1975;
Kohl, 1984). Beginning teachers beneﬁt from colleagues in subtle as well as obvious
ways where classroom management is concerned.

WW Mediation in terms of
curriculum and instruction also took place in formal and informal ways, and primarily
through dialogue. Earlier, I talked about conversations reﬂecting reciprocity in terms
of sharing of ideas (e.g., Jo with fellow panelists, as well as with Mrs. Diana; Viji
with Puan Rozana and a male colleague, both dwelling on music instruction). These
conversations were a form of mediation--mediation, in fact, for beginning teacher
practice as well as experienced teachers’ continuing practice. The examples that I will
draw on to illustrate mediation in curriculum and instruction include examples which
might or might not be reciprocal in nature.

In both Jo and Viji’s contexts, the primary structure that facilitated organized
and formal mediation in curricular and instructional matters was the subject panel. In
both contexts, the panels that were brought to my notice were the English and art
panels. Through these panels, instructional ideas were offered and discussed. I
perceived that the panel was particularly crucial during times when the Ministry of
Education revamped the curriculum, or examination formats, or both. In my interview

with Jo’s panel head, for example, I learned about the substantive changes for the

235
Year 6 (national) English Language examination, to be effective in 1996 itself, and
how she had to disseminate as well as discuss the changes with the panel, with a view
to facilitating or improving instruction. lo had mentioned the curricular and evaluation
changes such as students would have to provide ”subjective answers” for the English
paper, rather than provide answers to "objective” questions only (i.e., multiple-choice
questions). Curricular changes of this sort invariably called for panel discussions. The
subject panel was a permanent structure that facilitated mediation in curricular and
instructional matters. Dissemination of information regarding the changes by the panel
head might not be reciprocal in nature (since the panel head attends meetings outside
of the school and has ﬁrst access to information), but panel discussions based on the
changes could be. And these discussions represented a form of mediation in teacher
practice.

In Viji’s case, mediation occurred largely through informal dialogues with
individuals. She often spoke with Encik Zainal, a fatherly ﬁgure. Viji consulted him
regarding her instructional problems in Year 4, and Encik Zainal mediated by sharing
his observations of Viji’s attitude toward Year 4 in a frank way. He had told Viji:

Don’t keep looking at . . . their negative points. Try to look for their positive

points. Try to work on that. When you enter this class, you already have the

assumption, ”Oh, I’m going into this class. Oh, what a day it’s going to be."

So automatically, you know, I wouldn’t feel like really teaching them and I get

irritated very fast. ”But when you go into Year 5 . . . no matter what dumb

mistakes they made, you can still come back, you know, thinking, oh, never

mind." (Fifth Interview, January 29, 1996)

Mediation through frank talk helped. Viji realized the truth in his words, and things

improved a little after that. Thus, taking mediation as a dimension of collegiality,

236

Encik Zainal’s frankness in revealing his critical observations to Viji made him a
colleague since he had Viji’s best interests at heart. It would have been so much
easier for him not to mediate, but he chose to. Collegiality enacted through such
mediation involved some risk-taking on the part of Encik Zainal, where being frank
and critical could so easily have made a different beginning teacher become defensive.

M 'tininf f" ' ° " ° ° JoandViji

 

taught in a context which was markedly different from most American schools: They
held a great number of positions in teacher committees, some of which were related
to curriculum and instruction (e. g., as secretaries of subject panels), and some of
which were related to co-curricular activities (e.g., as advisors to societies). These
positions often carried with them new and unfamiliar responsibilities. In instances that
lacked familiarity, Jo and Viji badly needed mediation from colleagues. Mediation of
this form, whether solicited or not, identiﬁed their "colleagues.”

The most compelling example of such mediation occurred in Viji’s when She
had to fulﬁll a most unexpected responsibility, heading the art panel. After her
election, she sought mediation on her own by approaching other subject panel heads
for information and advice. According to Viji, the panel heads were helpful. But
mediation of the most unexpected kind came from Puan Rozana who not only assisted
her with procedural matters (e. g., getting letters of notiﬁcation ready), but also sat
through Viji’s ﬁrst art panel meeting despite not being a panel member herself. Her
unsolicited mediation in this matter of the art panel meeting was manifested ihaedoh

more than in talk; it left such a great impression on Viji that Viji wanted to respond

237

in action as well, that is in writing for publication so that she could ”hold the
memory” of the colleague’s warm gesture.

Collectively, taking mediation in all three areas (i.e., classroom management,
curriculum and instruction, and fulﬁlling responsibilities in collectivistic settings) as a
dimension of collegiality, Jo and Viji worked among many who deserved to be called
"colleagues."

WWW

Collegiality in lo and Viji’s contexts also took the form of different kinds of
support that departed from the ﬁrst two dimensions, reciprocity and mediation. The
ﬁrst, reciprocity, looked at beginning teacher’s sense of self-worth resulting from
reciprocal talk or action. Such feelings were important as the teachers negotiated the
borders between the familiarity and protectedness of the teachers’ college, and the
newness of professional practice. The second, mediation, need not be reciprocal.
Mediation could occur in subtle, almost unnoticeable ways, as well as in the form of
a response to a beginning teacher’s request for intervention. The third dimension of
collegiality, moral and psychological support, covers different collegial relations.
Mm refers to support that acknowledges justice and right on the side of the
beginning teacher. EsyeheiegjeaLsuepert refers to mindful listening, empathy, and
concern for another who experiences isolation resulting from problems and dilemmas
at work. The two tend to be linked. Thus, I discuss the two types of support

simultaneously, indicating a possible range of enactments as I go along.

238
M hl 'l rt° lwr n IhaveportrayedJoasa

strong teacher. Within collectivistic settings, she impresses. Mrs. Diana noted the
conﬁdence that Jo seemed to possess, which apparently contributed to her unanimous
election as English panel secretary. I have also shown the conﬁdence in the way she
participated in the ﬁrst panel meeting. There were several other indicators as well
such as the compliments made by the panel head and Mrs. Diana when I interviewed
them. But despite these signs of success, Jo had disturbing thoughts associated with
work and communication with others. She did not always feel conﬁdent. In the early
days, mundane tasks like closing the monthly class register or ﬁlling in her record
book worried her. She and fellow beginning teachers shared similar frustrations; they
complained that instructors at their teachers’ colleges did not prepare them adequately
for these tasks. When frustrated, Jo sought and found moral and psychological
support from the other fellow beginning teachers. Moral sueeeg came in the form of
agreement or sharing of similar complaints by others. It took the form of sharing
feelings of being "short-changed. " Esyeheiegjeauubm took the form of comforting
or reassuring one another when facing problems and dilemmas, making suggestions
collectively, and testing them out. Thus, they provided one another with moral and
psychological support that they would rather not seek in experienced colleagues for
reasons like fear of revealing their inadequacies. ”Being in the same boat" provided
moral and psychological comfort.

In Viji’s case, moral and psychological support at the lower end was provided

in the form of talk or action by several experienced teachers. When Viji felt let down

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because of the teaching schedule changes, some teachers sympathized with her. Puan
Rozana suggested that Viji approached the headmaster to help resolve the issue.
Although Encik Razi, a male colleague, gave her moral support, he also cautioned her
by suggesting that the best time to say ”no” to administrators’ demands might be only
after she was conﬁrmed as a teacher (Viji was under a three-year probation). While
moral support in times of perceived unfairness came in the form of talk from certain
colleagues, Encik Roselan (Senior Assistant 1) went a bit further to intervene by
speaking with the headmaster on Viji’s behalf. Though unsuccessful, his moral
support through intervention left an imprint on Viji’s thoughts. Words of comfort,
words of caution, and direct intervention, such as provided by the above teachers,
identiﬁed them as Viji’s colleagues.

But often the beginning teachers needed moral and psychological support of a
deeper kind. They sought such support from the closest colleagues that they had, and
these were fellow beginners, Rena in Jo’s case, and Rani in Viji’s. The support they
provided ﬁtted the upper end of the moral and psychological support dimension of
collegiality.

WW Strong as Jo seemed to
be as a teacher, she still needed moral and psychological support. For instance,
requesting intervention in her management problems ﬁlled her with troubled thoughts.
She felt psychologically alone, and mentioned that once, she was near tears because
the nine boys she had sent to the ﬁrst senior assistant were punished. A parent who

was standing by unexpectedly provided her with both moral and psychological support

240
when she told Jo that the boys might dislike her then, but would be grateful later.

Additionally, the parent said that she would put in a good word for Jo.

In a separate incident, Jo again felt very much alone. This involved a
misunderstanding with a woman colleague whose sarcasm publicly embarrassed and
hurt Jo. It was a painful experience, and Jo remarked that she could not speak about it
in detail to anyone, not even her mother. Thus, Jo faced psychological isolation on
account of such incidents. Although Jo could not discuss the misunderstanding with
anyone, she did say that for al_rhes_t all experiences in the workplace, Rena was her
conﬁdant--and her provider of moral and psychological support. Rena empathized
with her and Jo trusted her. They shared with and listened to each other. Rena was
Jo’s closest colleague.

Viji’s case is more powerful than Jo’s in illustrating the upper end of moral
and psychological support that a colleague could give. This had much to do with the
circumstances of her professional experiences that corresponded closely to Rani’s. We
learned earlier about Viji and Rani’s heavy teaching schedules which they believe
were linked with their positions as newly certiﬁed teachers. We learned also about
Viji’s embarrassment when her ﬁrst request for mediation in her classroom
management problems fell through because of the second senior assistant’s refusal to
intervene. Viji had a need for moral as well as psychological support, the ﬁrst being
support in moments of perceived injustice, and the latter being emotional support in
moments of psychological aloneness. Fellow beginning teacher, Rani, provided both

in view of their being ”in the same boat." The nature of their communication

241
reﬂected symmetry and reciprocity; symmetry in that the language that they used and

the sentiments that they expressed were similar, and reciprocity in that one would
mindfully "listen” so as to allow the other to "let it all out" (Rani, January 12, 1996).
Moral and psychological support of this deeper kind could only be provided when the
beginning teachers trusted one another, and they did. Rena emerged as Viji’s closest
colleague. As Viji said during the round-table discussion, she had good colleagues and
shared with them, but it was not the same as her special relationship with Rani.

Looking across all three dimensions of collegiality--reciprocity in talk and
action, mediation in teacher practice, and moral and psychological support--there are
multiple examples of colleagues in Jo and Viji’s contexts. Indeed, Jo and Viji’s
colleagues "stand out. They can be seen and heard” (Little, 1987, p. 513).

I have shared two levels of stories: ﬁrst, the individual stories of Jo and Viji,
and second, the ”deeper story" behind their stories. Next, I situate these stories within
the realm of stories that others have told. In other words, I highlight some
contributions of the study to existing knowledge about collegiality and teacher
induction.

Contributions to Collegiality and Teacher Induction Research

This study contributes to existing knowledge about collegiality and teacher
induction in two major ways. F_irs_t, the study offers a much needed, close-up look at
collegiality in action, seen primarily from the perspective of beginning teachers.
Emerging from the study is a model of collegiality based on three major dimensions:

Reciprocity in relations, mediation in beginning teacher practice, and moral and

242

psychological support for beginners. Sesame, in terms of teacher induction, the study
offers insights regarding the possibilities and limits of a formal teacher induction
program that has traditionally been in place in Malaysian schools.

A M l f Ile ' °

In the Malaysian situation, such as portrayed in my accounts of ﬁrst—year
teachers, it is taken for granted that teachers would work together in many aspects of
teaching. Collegiality is very much a tradition in this sense of the word. Beginning
teachers enter schools where much of their professional work go beyond classroom
instruction. Not surprisingly, they join numerous teacher committees as soon as they
commence work as teachers. Some committees are geared toward improving teacher
practice (e.g. , subject panels) and some are geared toward other educational
objectives. In such a context, relations between beginning teachers and other
colleagues are of a substantial and consequential kind.

The study emphasizes that for beginning teachers to achieve successful
professional practice, both within the classroom and outside, the quality of the
enactment of collegiality by experienced teachers, inclusive of administrators, is
crucial. The study thus offers a collegial model, emphasizing three important
"dimensions” of collegiality: (a) reciprocity in talk and in action, ranging from formal
to informal situations; (b) mediation in teacher practice, ranging from sharing to
direct intervention; and (c) moral and psychological support, ranging from
encouragement to empathy and concern. This model is based on the data collected

where I saw how beginning teacher needs varied across personalities, across events,

243

and across social and professional workplace environments. Fulﬁllment of these
varied and varying beginning teacher needs through the enactment of collegiality by
experienced teachers also differed--in regularity or amount, and in quality. The
quality of the enactment of collegiality became more visible when I looked at them
using the notion of dimensions of collegiality, rather than ﬁxed measures of collegial
relations. Deciding and understanding who stood out as colleagues became an easier
task because the dimensions that have emerged from the data allowed me to identify
certain attributes in colleagues.

Thus, my notion of "dimensions" of collegiality--focusing on a range of
possibilities--gives rise to a deﬁnition of collegiality that could be adapted across
wide-ranging situations or contexts. There is ambiguity in deﬁning collegiality; thus it
may be futile to aim for a deﬁnition of collegiality in generic terms. Any deﬁnition of
collegiality needs to be contextualized, as I have attempted to do so. However, there
are better and worse examples of collegial practices. Having a model of collegiality
based on dimensions of collegiality achieves both possibilities: a contextualized
conceptualization of collegiality, as well as insights into a range of possible collegial
practices.

I now move to the second major contribution of the study: insights into a

formal teacher induction program that can be characterized as a tradition.

 

The cross—case analysis of Jo and Viji revealed a startling discovery for me,

from my perspective as an insider to the Malaysian context. The discovery reminds

244

me about how some things are so common that we take them for granted, or, as Ma
(in Paine & Ma, 1993) put it, they are as common as "the air in which we live" (p.
677). I barely saw what was in front of me: the remarkable presence and visibility of
a formal teacher induction program that is in existence in every Malaysian school
through the functioning of subject panels. It is a phenomenon that is intimately
interwoven with the issues of collegiality and teacher growth that this study is all
about. Before I reﬂect on this discovery and share its potentialities, I wish to
elaborate on the emergence and importance of formal teacher induction programs in
the United States.

In the United States, I perceive a growing body of research and knowledge
about teacher induction. Researchers almost invariably associate teacher induction
with twginniug teachers. Many empirical studies leave their mark because they focus
on the absence of formal teacher induction programs for beginners (e. g.,
Featherstone, 1992; Smyth, 1992; Krasnow, 1993), and the effects of such a
situation. Without formal induction, beginning teachers are often left to their own
resources: thus the notions of "sink—or-swim" (Lortie, 1975), or ”by trial and error.”

In response to the concerns and needs of beginning teachers, the notion and
practice of ”mentoring” gradually gained support. This notion is deﬁned in a variety
of ways, some focusing on the process, and others on the attributes and attitudes of
mentors (Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1992; Anderson & Shannon, 1988). But formal
mentoring programs are still rare. Further, there have been questions about how best

to mentor beginning teachers. In view of differing conceptual orientations toward

245
thinking about teacher knowledge (Feiman-Nemser, 1989, 1990), the notion of

mentoring has resulted in multiple recipes for success. Further, a common feature of
mentoring programs is temmhtess: Mentors ordinarily provide short-term support
to beginning teachers (Taylor, 1965; Feiman-Nemser & Parker, 1994).

Now, we return to the Malaysian context and ponder on what was available
for Jo and Viji. My startling discovery in telling Jo and Viji’s stories is that a formal
induction program was already in place in the form of their participation within
subject panels. Table 4 indicates that Jo participated in two subject panels, whereas
Viji participated in four panels, although she taught only two subjects. Ordinarily,
teachers in Malaysian schools participate in as many panels as the subjects they teach.

The panel is mandated, and the functioning of the panel is explicit (Table 1).
Table 1 indicates that many aspects of teaching are taken into consideration by the
panel: curricular and instructional matters, staff development projects such as
seminars and workshops, and coordination of testing and evaluation. Subject panels
provide the basic structure for formal teacher induction.

Jo and Viji, as beginning teachers, played a very active role in the panels: Jo
was unanimously elected secretary of the English panel, and Viji assumed not only the
position of panel secretary for English but also panel head for art. Thus, as long as
subject panels are mandatory, and as long as they function in the spirit of the
directives from the Ministry of Education, there is perpetually a strong formal
induction program for beginning teachers.

Jo and Viji’s experiences allow us to predict, if not gauge, the potential

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strengths--as well as weaknesses--of formal teacher induction of this sort. First, we
look at the strengths. The ﬁrst is that there is a remarkably mm structure, such
as can be found in China in the form of teaching research groups (Paine & Ma,
1993). The effective functioning of any subject panel calls for appropriate
participation of experienced teachers as well as beginning teachers, the two lower
tiers of the school hierarchy. Only through appropriate participation would beginning
teachers have a comfortable passage through the early and crucial period of their
careers. So what does appropriate participation by colleagues entail? Jo and Viji
provided some answers about what appropriate participation might be, and what it
might not be. When Jo talked about the atmosphere of the ﬁrst English panel meeting
that she attended soon after she started work, she remarked on the spirit of
reciprocity, cooperation, and genuine interest. Such a spirit represents appropriate
participation:

They asked us about activities which we had planned for the year. They kept

on asking me, "Miss Jo, I’m sure you’ve some new ideas. Come on,

contribute something. I’m sure you can tell us something.” Can you help us in

this? Can you help us in that?

. . . They accepted me. They accepted my ideas. I just contributed. I’m not

shy to contribute. . . . They prompted me to speak, that’s it. And we were

very easy. . . . It was a smooth-ﬂowing meeting where everybody was talking,

and everybody was giving their ideas. And people were accepting them, and

saying . . . we could do this or we could do that. . . . I did not feel shy.

(Third Interview, December 26, 1996)

Earlier, I conveyed my perception that, based on my interviews with Puan

Mariana, the ﬁrst senior assistant, Cik Noor, the English panel head, and Mrs. Diana,

a very experienced teacher, Jo’s senior colleagues were genuinely interested in the

247

new ideas that beginning teachers brought with them. Thus, the uniqueness of the
induction program through the English panel existing in Jo’s school is this: It
oo-rvid in _ in n nl fr . - i in .g; her int th w , . t .. her

w rk her-- I n 'n in i ii f r x erien teach r n in
W. It Provided a
permanent structure for mutually inducting one another, mutually educating one
another. And the way that they set out to do this was through dialogue during panel
meetings. Beginning teachers could model for experienced teachers by thinking aloud
about the up-to-date theoretical ideas that they have acquired from college, just as
experienced teachers could model actions or behaviors acquired through wisdom of
practice. In other words, experienced teachers and beginning teachers, could mutually
support each other’s professional practice.

But I do not look through rose-tinted glasses. I am aware that not all
experienced teachers would have the same views and disposition of Mrs. Diana who,
not many years from retirement, could still say to me, "I am a colleague. I need help,
too." There might be very few who would say to a beginning teacher, ”You’re so
fresh from college. You’ve so many ideas that we could learn from you" (Jo, Fourth
Interview, January 15, 1996). But this happened in the cases of Jo and Viji. Viji, for
example, said that an experienced male colleague came up to her and sought her
knowledge about English and music education, the latter being Viji’s minor at
college:

Then another person said, "I really need your help.” I showed him what I
knew (about music). "If you don’t mind,” he said, ”I really want to learn."

248

. . . I thought it was nice of him to acknowledge me. He said there’s a lot to
learn from me. He said, "I can also learn English from you.” I said, "I’m here

to learn from yeu.” He treated me like a professional-dike an equgnlike I’m
good too. That it’s all right to make mistakes. And he’s not embarrassed to

ask, never mind if you’re older or younger. (Third Interview, December 31,

1995)

My study implies that teacher induction can take on a different meaning: It can
mean the o_ngo_ing induction of all teachers, experienced ones included. And it gives
another meaning to mentoring as well: that when experienced teachers mentor
beginning teachers through panel discussions, it need not be uni-directional, that is
from experienced teachers as "givers” to beginning teachers as ”takers.” Such a
situation results in asymmetrical interactions. It could be in both directions, through
reciprocity.

Through a reciprocal approach, another advantage is evident: Experienced
teachers would not be accused of being in a position where they invariably maintained
norms and prevented meaningful change. The notion of teacher growth therefore
transcends that of mere enculturation of beginning teachers.

But Viji’s case cautions us about possible failure: When teachers work within
hierarchical structures, there is the top tier, the administrators, to think of. How they
responded to the needs of subject panelists, and how effectively panel heads liaised
with administrators, were crucial matters. Viji perceived her headmaster as one who
did not seem to make decisions easily as in the teaching schedule affair, and this also
became a problem when it extended to matters like accommodating or rejecting

suggestions for creating a richer environment for English language learning. Viji and

Rani, as quoted earlier, had enthusiastically made multiple suggestions at the ﬁrst

249

English panel meeting in mid-January. The result was that the headmaster ”said that
they will be taken into consideration, but up till today, we’ve not heard anything”
(Fifth Interview, January 29, 1996). For the subject panel to work dynamically in the
direction of ongoing induction of all teachers, administrators might have to
acknowledge, as well as actively play, the roles of co—partners, co-learners, and co-
inquirers. In a hierarchical system where the position of administrator implies
seniority, authority, and power, and taking into consideration, also, our current
knowledge of the complexities of promoting more social and collaborative approaches
toward learning, this would be a daunting challenge.

In conclusion, the two major contributions of the study-~ﬁrst, a model of
collegiality based on the notion of dimensions of collegiality, and second, insights into
the possibilities and limits of a formal teacher induction program--are intimately
linked: Collegiality is central to the success of teacher induction effected through
subject panels. There is little individualism within the workings of a panel; there is
primarily collectivism. Teaching becomes a public and collective business, the success

of which depends on the enactment of collegiality.

EPILOGUE

A Voice from the Future

It is Fourth of July, 1996. A woman, travelling alone, sits in a Boeing 747. All
kinds of thoung and images passed through her mind. The most vivid, strange to
say, was a journey she made, also alone, a long time ago. She remembered that
journey well. She was in a jostling trishaw then, not a Jumbo Jet, making her way to
her ﬁrst school and her ﬁrst job as a beginning English teacher. Was that really two
decades ago .7 Funny, it seemed like just yesterday. Her mind was still so full of
thoughts about what it was like to be a ﬁrst-year teacher.

The plane cruised smoothly, so unlike that uncomfortable trishaw ride. She
thought of the events of the past few months: the multiple interviews that she had had
with the ﬁve beginning teachers in her study, the visits to schools, the return to the
United States, the ﬁnal analysis of the data that she had collected, and the writing up
of her dissertation. It was complete. There were no loose ends. She was on her way
home.

The past few months had passed so fast, she could hardly believe it. She
started questioning herself in the same manner that she used to question the ﬁve
beginning teachers. The teachers had said that she asked hard questions, and that

even after they thought they had answered her, she had further questions. And then,

250

251

to their amazement, they found that they had more to say, too, and that they didn ’t
even know that they had those thoughts before responding to her questions.

So the ﬁrst question: What did you seek when you entered the ﬁeld? Her inner
voice replied: I sought to ﬁnd out what life was like for beginning teachers during the
ﬁrst three months. I was interested in how they perceived their colleagues during the
start of their careers, whether their impressions remained constant over that period,
and whether they thought that their interactions with their colleagues helped them
develop as teachers during that ﬁrst quarter.

So what did you ﬁnd out? The inner voice hesitated: I learned that while we
might try to make teachers as similar as possible-we teach them almost the same
thing in all the teachers ’ colleges, we attempt to equip them with similar skills and
expertise, we familiarize them with the professional knowledge base, we acquaint them
with the national education philosophy, we prepare them to work with others through
co-curricular activities as student teachers, and we teach them to manage these
activities so that they would do the same as certiﬁed teachers--yet there was incredible
variance in the manner that the teachers developed during the ﬁrst three months.

I also found that, in the Malaysian situation, what happened to the beginning
teachers outside the classroom was highly visible. The beginning teachers found
themselves in many collectivistic situations where they had to work with other
teachers. They realized during the beginning months that though they might be
equipped with new ideas and strategies from college, they could not exclusively focus

on their growth in classroom instruction. In the contexts where they functioned, it was

252

vital that they were able to work in school-wide teacher groups. They found
themselves assuming important positions within these groups, and they wondered
whether they were doing their jobs well in the eyes of the experienced teachers.

Is that all? No, the inner voice replied. That is just the surface. I’ll rephrase
your question: What, among the many things I found, was most compelling to myself?
I thought, when I entered the ﬁeld, that teacher isolation was not a concern of
teachers in the Malaysian situation. True, physical isolation seldom happens. We
have structural supports that prevent that from happening: We have physical
structures like common rooms that encourage teachers to spend a lot of their free time
together. Teachers have teaching schedules where they have an average of two to
three periods a day free to enable them to catch up with their preparation, grading,
discussions, or resolving student matters. Another powerful structural support is that
we have subject panels where regular discussions and diﬁ'erent types of coordination
take place in all aspects of teaching. And we have other teacher committees which
make it incumbent on teachers to work together.

But W was felt by all beginning teachers, though in
varying degrees. No one really escaped that completely. The feeling of aloneness, the
uncertainty of whether one was doing things correctly, the anxiety of resolving
problems of classroom management single-handedly, the overwhelming feeling when
teachers found themselves swamped with multiple positions of responsibility in teacher
committees, the need to know how to interact with the administration as well as with

other colleagues in a professional way--all these, collectively and naturally, resulted

253

in feelings of psychological isolation. The way in which one grew, and how fast one
grew depended on many things, but one major factor inﬂuencing growth was the
nature of the enactment of collegiality in the workplace. Growth is much related with
having true colleagues.

Growth depends on whether one is working among "true colleagues " ? Is that
what you mean ? Well, the inner voice continued, I knew the questions were going to
get harder. But this is what I think: There are three possible growth models that have
serious implications for a particular kind of collegiality. I call these ”collegial growth
models. " Each model has a distinctive starting point. When I started the study, I
sensed that I favored and endorsed a particular growth model. It ’s the third of these
models that I will discuss in a while. But I doubted t'f the model would work in the
Malaysian context. You see, I ’m very much an insider in all this. The third model uses
a lot of ideas from the west, but ideas from the west don ’t always ﬁt into our context.
But now that the study is over, I think this third model might stand a chance.

I’m lost. Tell me about the growth models. This is a hard one, the inner voice
responded. The three collegial growth models differ according to what their starting
points are. I think of three possible starting points, namely collegiality starting from
the perspectives of: (a) beginning teachers ’ needs and problems; (b) an established
knowledge base for teaching, and (c) self as intentional learner.

The ﬁrst collegial growth model endorses the perspective of beginners ’ needs ‘

and problems as a focal starting point. Starting from such a perspective implies the

tacit understanding by the beginning teacher as well as experienced colleagues that

254

the farmer’s position is characterized by "needs " and "problems. " This tacit
understanding frames the speciﬁc nature of teacher collegiality--the behaviors
comprising words, actions, and interactions expected of those who make up the
teaching community. Experienced teachers in the middle and top tiers of the school
hierarchy--experienced teachers, panel heads, senior assistants, and the headmaster--
are deemed wiser, more knowledgeable, and more competent in matters of teaching.
Starting from this perspective emphasizing beginners ’ needs and problems supports a
notion that some Americans call the "wisdom of practice " (Buchmann, 1984).
Experienced teachers are deemed wiser because they have been in the business
longer. Thus, experienced teachers are expected to be able and willing to diagnose as
well as respond to beginners ’ needs and problems. Beginning teachers are cast as
somewhat needy, occasionally dqicient, and experienced colleagues play the role of
"helpers " and "givers. " Another way of saying this is that beginners are the recipients
of the lozowledge; colleagues are the providers of the knowledge (Wallace & Louden,
1994). The major problem is that the two roles, though complementary, are uni-
directional. They are not reciprocal; one gives, the other receives. So the relationship
between beginning and experienced teachers is asymmetrical, and this tends to result
in "asymmetrical dialogues " (T annen, 1990). Asymmetrical dialogues are indicative of
power and status differentials.
In the focus stories that I shared of Jo and Viji, I tried to illustrate that this

ﬁrst collegial growth model does not quite apply. True, Jo and Viji did "receive "

certain procedural knowledge such as learning how to complete class registers and

255

teachers ’ record books. But these were learned fast, and simply involved familiarity
with procedures. 0n the other hand, look at the instances where Jo and Viji took on
the providers ’ roles: Jo impressed Mrs. Diana with her knowledge of the Year 6
syllabus, with her ability to critically assess workbooks, and with her new ideas in
teaching. And look at Viji: She is no "baby. " That was a persona she initially
adopted, but which she soon shed. She informed others on music education, which
was not even her major. She conducted her ﬁrst art panel meeting, as the new chair.
And Ruby: She headed the computer laboratory. Other teachers would need her to
help them. She donned the giver ’s role there. And look at Leela: She conducted the
whole school assembly early in her career, the occasion arising because,
unexpectedly, the experienced teacher who was supposed to do it was absent. And she
did not panic. She assumed the position of secretary for th_ree subject panels.

Right, so the ﬁrst collegial growth model doesn ’t quite apply. So what ’s the
second collegial growth model? Well, it ’s a model based on beliefs that there is an
established professional latowledge base. This collegial growth model dtﬁers
significantly from the ﬁrst model: It rests on the assumption that there is a scientiﬁc
base for eﬁ'ective teaching. In the United States, there are differing views regarding
claims to a professional knowledge base for teachers. In the seventies, particularly,
certain universities embarked on teacher education programs with knowledge base
claims. These include the Competency Based Teacher Education (CBTE) programs at
the University of Houston and the University of Toledo. Eventually CBTE programs

lost ground (Sykes, I 984), throwing great doubts on the possibility of arriving at an

256

agreed-upon professional knowledge base.

Well, that was the United States in the seventies. In view of great advances in
the knowledge of teaching based on recent research, American educators are again
laying claim to a professional knowledge base (Holmes Group, 1986; Shulman, I987;
Brophy, I 993; Reynolds, I 995). But the problem is that even among those who feel
that they can lay claims to such a knowledge base, opinions are divided about what
counts. For instance, opinions are divided about the degree of importance to be
placed on teacher effectiveness studies in establishing a knowledge base (Shulman,
I987; Brophy, 1993). Such debates in the ﬁeld in the United States help to explain
why a scientiﬁc knowledge base for teaching is hard to come by.

Now, in the content of the Malaysian teachers that I studied, it is less
complicated. A nationally mandated curriculum implies that there is an established
and endorsed professional knowledge base for teachers. The national curriculum for
preservice teachers in the 31 teachers ’ colleges, the Ministry of Education ’s carefully
prepared curriculum guides and teacher manuals, and the often common testing
practices in preservice teacher education programs suggest an aclmawledgement of a
professional knowledge base for teachers.

Following the notion of a professional knowledge base, senior colleagues are
expected to assist beginners in two ways. First, they assist beginners to survive the
anxiety of assuming full responsibility for their own classrooms, curriculum planning,
and instruction by providing advice and opportunities for observing and emulating

their practices. And, second, these experienced teachers help in the enculturation or

257

occupational socialization of beginners into the teaching community.

A collegial growth model that acknowledges a professional knowledge base
supports perpetuation of practices that have been researched and found to be sound.
0n the other side of the argument, such a model appears to maintain or sustain
norms, and is not suﬂiciently open to change. Further, in acknowledging a standard
of professional knowledge, we might be slighting insiders ’ knowledge of teaching, that
is, knowledge acquired through experience that differs from the accepted professional
knowledge base.

The cases of Jo and Viji are really fascinating. The teachers have gone
through a preservice teacher education program where they were exposed to a
professional knowledge base. In TESL classes, for instance, they learn about the
principles and practice. of TESL, focusing on the mandated communicative syllabus
practiced in schools. They go to schools, armed with common theoretical knowledge.
As newly certified teachers, the second model can be deemed to be the practiced
model only if what they do in their classrooms is what they were taught to do. And
this second collegial model also implies that panel heads and the administrators would
also monitor or supervise their teaching so that they do not depart from the norm. But
in practice, both in the context of the beginning teachers and the experienced
teachers, this is not so. The experienced teachers welcomed new ideas, thus slighting,
in a sense, the old knowledge base. In fact, over the years, what student teachers
learn is drastically different from what older teachers learned. I taught in-service

teachers for a year, from mid-I 992 to mid-I 993, and the comment which many of

258

them made was: How is it that we were not told in school that all these things were
happening in the ﬁeld? It was culture shock of a kind for them.

The matter is complicated especially since, all the time, teachers are
encouraged to be innovative and creative. Such forms of encouragement are common
in the newspapers, in press speeches, and in practice. Viji, despite having newly
graduated, departed instantly from what she had learned when she started work in her
rural school. She commented: "I knew, straight away, the English Only policy was not
going to work. " And she acted according to her perceptions. Comments such as
"much of what we learned can ’t be applied " were made by practically every one of
my participants. Thus, I would be wary to say that the second collegial growth model
is the one which the teachers fell under. Because, if that were so, experienced
teachers like Mrs. Diana would not need to tell a beginning teacher like Jo that she
wanted to learn from Jo.

So what about the third collegial growth model that you said you favored? '
Would it apply to your participants ? The inner voice responded: The starting point of
the third collegial growth model is dramatically different from the other two. The
focus is to look at the self as an intentional learner. The important thing is that it has
to apply to experienced colleagues as well as beginning teachers. This starting point
looks at teachers, at any point of their careers, as mutual takers and givers. In other
words, teachers are simultaneously learners and sources of knowledge to others. T o
be an intentional learner and simultaneously act as a source of knowledge parallels

the complementary acts of learning and teaching within oneself. And it doesn ’t matter

259

if you ’re a beginning teacher: You are also a giver.

This third collegial growth model has many prerequisites. First, both beginning
and experienced teachers need to be driven by a desire to improve their teaching.
Both would deny the likelihood of ever "arriving. " From the self as intentional learner
perspective, there is much doubt about the saying, "practice makes perfect. ” An
altered notion, "practice makes better" would be more likely. Following this notion is
the belief that experienced teachers have much to learn from beginning teachers, and
vice-versa. This is especially so since beginning teachers are fresh from college and
may be armed with theoretical knowledge of the latest ideas in the ﬁeld; experienced
teachers, on the other hand, have the beneﬁt of wisdom of practice.

-' In Jo and Viji ’s contexts, there are indications that the third collegial model
could work. Take Mrs. Diana, for example. She is one of the most experienced
teachers in Jo ’s school, not many years from retirement. Yet she has high respect for
Jo and constantly tells the younger teacher that she would like to learn from her. The
ﬁrst senior assistant and the English panel head expressed similar sentiments--that
new teachers have much to share in the form of up-to—date ideas.

Similarly with Viji: Puan Rozana respects her knowledge about music
instruction, and resolves to try out one of her ideas. Another experienced teacher
approached Viji one day and said that he wanted to learn about music instruction and
English from her. This pleasantly surprised Viji.

But the third collegial growth model is complex. The stage is set, but there ’s a

long way to go. For the model to work, there has to be a willingness to open oneself

2 6 0
up to a variety of learning tools. There ’s a range of such tools: The meaningful use of
dialogue (Wells & Chang- Wells, 1 992); critical understanding of differing education
philosophies (Aaron, Chall, Durkin, Goodman, & Strickland, 1990); an openness to
using novel methods like life history methods (Kohl, I984); critical questioning of one
another ’s teaching practices (Gomez, 1 988); scaffolding of one another ’s growth
through critique and afﬁrmation (Gomez, 1988); and developing a spirit of curiosity
and enquiry (Bullock, I 987). Shared or collective interrogation of one another ’s
experiences, regardless of whether one is a beginning teacher or experienced, is the
foundation of a helpful collegial relationship or environment. In the Malaysian
context, the structure is already available for this to happen, in the form of subject
panels.

Dialogic education pervades the list of learning tools above. In the context of
this study, I perceived that my conversations with the beginning teachers supported
that form of education. The nature of the conversations supported the third collegial
model. Educators within a sociocultural position give great precedence to the learning
opportunities that occur through dialogue. This point has been emphasized:

. . when one adopts a sociocultural--as opposed to an individualistic--
perspective on education, talk, far from being an unimportant

accompaniment to the real business of learning and teaching, is seen to

be a central and constitutive part of every activity. In a very important

sense, education 5 dialogue. (Wells & Chang-Wells, 1992, p. 32)

In interacting with Jo and Viji--and, of course, with Ruby, Leela and Devi-J

asked a lot of questions of them. I think some of the questions were powerful

questions, based on the feedback that I received during the round-table session as well

261

as individual interviews. Through the vehicle of dialogic interactions--although my
share of the conversations was much less, quantitatively--the beginning teachers and I
mutually educated one another. The teachers asked me at the round-table discussion:
What did I learn from them? I told them that I learned much more than I could ﬁnd
the words to express. I think they believed me. It’s hard for one like me who has been
educated in a system that endorses a particular professional knowledge base to
acknowledge so openly the dynamic and contested nature of teacher knowledge.

Although I have touched the lives of ﬁve young women, although they have
learned to question themselves--their behaviors, their actions, their feelings, their
beliefs--although they have learned to be more reflective than they once were, the
third collegial growth model will be hard to establish. Jo realizes that even her good
friend, Rena, with whom she shares all her intimate thoughts as a ﬁrst-year teacher,
would not be able to communicate in the way that the third collegial model is set up
to: "Even though I have Rena, I can ’t talk to her like we ’re talking here. I can ’t say
to Rena, W? "

I ’m also thinking about the many others who graduate from college each year.
All start off like Jo, Viji, Ruby, Leela and Devi. What 1')" they don’t have, in their
midst, a Mrs. Diana or a Puan Rozana, who lets them know that they mutually learn
from one another, primarily through dialogue ? What if the subject panels that they
ﬁnd themselves in are less inclined to use the structure already available for learning
through dialogue? We know that in Jo ’s school, she was encouraged to share her

ideas during a panel session. Jo said:

2 6 2

They kept on asking me, "Miss Jo, I’m sure you ’ve some new ideas. Come on,

contribute something. I ’m sure you can tell us something. " Can you help us in

this? Can you help us in that?

. . . They accepted me. They accepted my ideas. I just contributed. I ’m not shy

to contribute. . . . they prompted me to speak, that’s it. And we were very

easy. . . . It was a smooth-ﬂowing meeting where everybody was talking, and

everybody was giving her ideas. (Third Interview, December 26, 1996)

But what if they don ’t function quite as constructively in other schools ? It ’s hard.

So what do you have in mind? The inner voice pondered: This is just a
thought. In such cases, what is needed, perhaps, is a special mentoring program that
provides temporary support for the beginning teacher--a program that would not
simultaneously and openly diﬁ’erentiate her from her colleagues as being less
knowledgeable or less capable. Such a program should also be non—intrusive and non-
threatening, and should provide the beginning teacher with some control over her
situation. Such a program sees the mentor as a friend and conﬁdant, not as a
supervisor and judge. Further, such a program should free the beginning teacher to
make her own decisions regarding her instruction, as well as to develop her particular
conceptual orientation toward the nature of knowledge. Finally, such a program
should not impose on the school in terms of major restructuring of time allocations.

That sounds like a tall order. Is such a mentoring program possible? The inner
voice said, I think so. I ’m thinking of a conversation I had with a professor about a
year ago. She was a "Helping Teacher" in a unique mentoring program which started
in Minneapolis in I 950, and existed through the 1960s. This was a program whereby

beginning teachers could request the assistance of Helping Teachers in their

classrooms. This is how it was characterized:

2 6 3

In Minneapolis there ’s no blood—chilling director, no principal, no supervisor

sitting in the back of the classroom. Instead, a friendly Helping Teacher who

knows and can share your problems, drops in on your invitation--and helps.

(Taylor, 1965, p. 34)

Taylor described the non-threatening presence of the Helping Teacher whose task was
not to evaluate but to assist, not to impose but to be invited, not to intervene but to be
positioned by the beginning teacher in ways most helpful to the latter. The Helping
Teacher, in social constructivist terms, is the "more knowledgeable other " who
mediates the learning of the beginning teacher. There is a unique feature: It is the
beginning teacher who decides where, when, and how she needs mediation. Thus, I
wonder. If some of us who teach in teachers ’ colleges or in schools could be given
partial release time to do this—-or, indeed, to be there just as a questioner and listener
like I was for three months to ﬁve teachers--wouldn ’t that make a difference in their
lives ? If Jo, Viji, Ruby, Leela, and even Devi felt they beneﬁted from just a few but
regular conversations across these few months, wouldn ’t that serve as a useful support
service for other beginning teachers as well?

Perhaps. But I have another question. You seem to focus on the M of
learning. Are you suggesting that the practice of teaching as a goal for learning is
irrelevant? The inner voice responded spontaneously, No, of course not. The practice
of teaching is vital to one and all. It was a major concern for Viji, and fellow
beginning teacher, Rani, as they jointly faced a complex and diﬂicult instructional
context, where students had little exposure to English outside the conﬁnes of their

classrooms. That was a strong bond for them. Leela marshaled resources to help her

in teaching English, a third language to her Indian students. Jo took pride in sharing

264

what she knew about instructional ideas with the English panel and with Mrs. Diana.
Helping the Year 6 teacher out by teaching on Saturdays indicates that Jo took
classroom instruction seriously. Lastly, Ruby took classroom practice seriously:
Remember how she felt when a couple came and informed her that since her arrival,
their son had been unusually enthusiastic over learning English? The practice of
teaching is vital as a goal for learning. If I seem to be focusing on the process of
learning, then it is because of the Mule, the m and the context of learning.
Besides classroom instruction, a Malaysian teacher’s professional work involves heavy
responsibilities in collectivistic settings. Further, it is important to note that I am
focusing on ﬁrst-year teachers ’ learning during the early, crucial months. I believe
that a mentoring program during these early months would necessarily have to
consider both the process of learning in such a context, as well as the practice of
teaching as a goal for learning. Some empirical studies indicate that beginning
teachers tend to put the latter on hold till they have taken care of their other concerns
like problems of classroom management and feelings of psychological isolation. Thus,
the strength and premise of a Helping Teacher program, as I recommended earlier, is
that there is someone available who allows the teacher to be herseb‘; to let 017’ steam
and know she won ’t be reported to anyone; to tell her insecurities to; and confess
failure without fear that it would appear on a job performance appraisal form. It is a
non-intrusive and non-threatening program. The mentor is there for purposes of
classroom practice as well, but it may take some time before classroom practice

becomes the primary focus of ﬁrst-year teachers ’ lives. Such a mentoring program

265

would be a good thing, wouldn ’t it?

The Jumbo entered an air pocket, bringing the woman out of her reverie.
Images criss-crossed her mind. She remembered images of parents and siblings,
waving good-bye and wishing her well when she left for her ﬁrst job as a teacher. She
gently reclined her seat, a privileged traveler in a plane that now hardly felt as it was
moving. No more trishaws. New images appeared: images of loved ones that she
would see on arrival--husband and children, parents and siblings. It had been almost
three years since she started her program of doctoral study in the United States. A
long time! She couldn ’t wait to deplane, to start another phase of her life, to settle
down at last, and to get on with her career.

Simultaneously, there were other strong images: Images of people she had
bade farewell to, perhaps for good. Faces of different colors, white and black and
brown. She had not had time to sort those images out. Or to accept that the people
who taught her so much, both in and out of the university classroom, she might never
see again. But there would be time enough for that later.

Fourth of July. Isn ’t that the day of independence for the country that she was
leaving behind? How apt that she was leaving that day! She liked that, the idea of
independence. But independence to do what? The woman suddenly realized, with
alarm, that she was, again, just starting a new journey. Pensively, she wondered, like
two decades ago: What will my new workplace be like? And my new job? And the

colleagues I will work with?

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