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dissertation entitled

LIMITATIONS OF THEORY IN GUIDING ON—LINE
DECISION-MAKING IN PROCESS WRITING CONTEXTS:
THE CASE OF EMILY

presented by

Teunis Donk

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for

Ph.D. . Teacher Education
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LIMITATIONS OF THEORY IN GUIDING ON-LINE
DECISION-MAKING IN PROCESS WRITING CONTEXTS:
THE CASE OF EMILY

B y

Teunis Donk

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

DOCTOR OF PHEOSOPHY

Department of Teacher Education

1996

 

ABSTRACT
LIMITATIONS OF THEORY IN GUIDING ON-LINE
DECISION-MAKING IN PROCESS WRITING CONTEXTS:
THE CASE OF EMILY
B y

Teunis Donk

The focus of this case study was the on-line decision-making that teachers
do within the uncertainty of interactions with students -- and most importantly
what they attend to in these moments. This study explores the thinking that one
experienced teacher did as she attempted to enact the principles and practices of
a process writing approach to classroom writing instruction.

This study suggests that as teachers attempt to use theory to guide their
decision-making, they engage in layered sets of decisions -— each connected to an
image of teacher. In the case of Emily, two layers of decisions guided by theory
involved such things as the classroom layout and establishment of instructional
routines. Both suggest the usefulness of technical models of teachers and their
work for describing their thinking when decision-making parameters are known.

This study suggests that rather than theory, in on-line decision-making,
teachers attend to contextual considerations -- such things as policy, time,
parental expectations. They also are guided by instructional considerations --
namely skills, teacher role, and perceptions of students. As teachers attend to
these considerations they reference bases of knowledge rooted in personal
history. These provide them with ways to frame events, as well as providing
direction for moves in on-line interactions. This study also explores the creation

of unconscious learning binds for teachers and students —- as decision-making is

guided by referencing personal history and contextual and instructional
considerations.

This study raises important questions for teacher educators concerned with
teacher thinking and decision-making. It suggests that contemporary images of
the teacher fail to capture the complexity of teacher thinking. It also submits that
theories hold assumptions about teachers and their work which may further
impair the ability of teachers to use theory to guide on-line decision-making.

Finally, this study suggests that professional development efforts target
off-line decision—making, but typically miss having an impact over the on-line
thinking that references history and experiences. It argues that allowing theory
to become a referent in on-line decision-making will require opportunities for

allowing theory to enter a teacher’s internal dialogue as experience.

Copyright by
Teunis Donk
1996

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It is difficult to know how to acknowledge the many people who have
contributed so much to my thinking and sustenance as I worked on this
dissertation. I hope that a deeply felt word of thanks here will begin to help each
of them to understand how much I appreciate their contributions of time,
conversation, guidance and/or interest in my life and work.

I begin with my parents. As survivors themselves, they taught me about
the rewards of tenacity -- a highly valued quality when attempting to meet the
demands of such a project as the writing of a dissertation. I am also thankful for
their unfailing love and support. I am also deeply indebted to Jan and Patrick
Reagan, my mother and father-in-law. Knowing that I could leave my daughter
in their most capable and loving care, while I was in class or involved in research
efforts, contributed significantly to my ability to complete this work. I am also
_ thankful for their interest in, and encouragement of, my work.

I am also thankful for the many friends who helped me intellectually and
spiritually throughout this experience. I extend special thanks to Mary Beth
Darcy Jonkman for consistently taking the time to ask about my work, as well as
my general well being, and then caring about the answers. My thanks also to
Cathy Reischl for her friendship, support and willingness to push my thinking via

insightful and oftentimes humorous conversation. I also wish to extend a note of

 

appreciation to Mark Zucco for his continuing friendship and acts of support and
encouragement -- and knowing when I needed them most.

I would also like to thank the community of scholars I was privileged to
know and learn with during my time at Michigan State University. I would
especially like to acknowledge the support of the many and changing members of
the writing support group led by Suzanne Wilson. Their contributions to my
thinking, as well as their ability to keep me on task, were invaluable. I would
especially like to thank Suzanne Wilson herself -- not only for her leadership of
this group, but also for putting a human face on the dissertation process and for
caring about my work.

The contributions of members of my guidance committee were also
invaluable in the formulation and completion of this dissertation. As the original
guidance committee chairperson and as a member of my dissertation committee,
Susan Florio-Ruane was a most capable guide in the sometimes murky waters of
the doctoral experience. Her willingness to think carefully about my work and to
provide me with the benefit of her expertise were greatly appreciated. Helen
Featherstone’s ability to listen to my sometimes rambling descriptions of my work
and to see directly to the heart of matters was always appreciated -- as were her
much needed reminders to celebrate successes along the way. Chris Clark was a
wonderful teacher -— modeling constructivist teaching and learning. I am also
thankful for his reminders to both remember and work from my strengths.

I cannot imagine having completed this dissertation without the most able
guidance of my dissertation director and guidance committee chairperson, Diane
Holt-Reynolds. Her constant and expressed faith in my abilities were sustaining.

Her ability to nudge my thinking along —— even when I didn’t think it was

vi

possible to go further -- were invaluable. And her ability and willingness to see
me as a person were greatly appreciated. For the many hours of meetings, phone
calls and Email conversations, I am deeply indebted. In Diane I discovered the
true meaning and value of a mentoring relationship. I will always be immensely
thankful.

I would also like to thank Emily Grew for allowing me to be a part of her
classroom. Her willingness to share her thinking with me was extraordinary and
greatly appreciated. I hold her in such high regard as a teacher dedicated to her
work, her students and the improvement of the field.

Finally, I owe the greatest debt of gratefulness to my immediate family. My
daughter Kelsey was born as the research for this dissertation was just beginning.
Her early cooing and babbling helped me to remember what was important in my
life. Her later pleas to play “Barbies” helped me to understand the need to leave
my work for awhile and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. And the day she
“helped” her daddy by writing “Chapter Four” with markers on the living room
wall, will surely become a family legend. My son Keenan was born just two
months before the oral defense of this dissertation. Being a part of the miracle of
his birth and life gave me the courage and drive to complete this work -- and to
once again have the luxury of time for hugging and playing.

My wife Theresa deserves my most heartfelt thanks, as well as a byline on
this dissertation. Her willingness and ability to contribute to my thinking was
clearly invaluable. I look forward to the times when we will be able to view the
late nights composing, reading, revising and editing drafts as “the good old
days.” I am also immensely appreciative of her willingness to make the many

sacrifices called for by my focus on this dissertation work -- the lost weekends,

vii

the lack of a full partnership in household and family responsibilities, and on and
on goes the list. She is my soul mate and my partner. I treasure every moment we

have together.

viii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter Page
1. DECISION-MAKIN G: LEARNING TO RECOGNIZE
ANDEIVHBRACEUNCERTAINTY .................................................................... 1
' Process Writing as a Context for Studying
Decision-Making in Uncertainty ............................................................ 4
Decision-Making: Reflecting Images of
Teachers’ Work ......................................................................................... 9
2. TEACHER THINKING: FROM THELINEAR TO THE
MESSY ................................................................................................................. 12
The Teacher as Technician -- an Enduring Legacy ............................ l3
Transition: The Teacher as a Thinking Technician ............................. 14
Teacher Thinking: Discrete and Linear ................................... 15
Teacher Thinking: Information Processing and
Routines ....................................................................................... 16
A Changing Image of the Teacher: The Reflective
Practitioner ............................................................................................... l6
Embracing Uncertainty and Understanding Professional
Knowledge ............................................................................................... 18
Moving Teacher Thinking Forward ..................................................... l9
3. METHODOLOGY AND RESEARCH PROCEDURES ................................ 21
Design ........................................................................................................ 21
Site ............................................................................................................. 22
Emily’ s Classroom ...................................................................... 22
Participants .............................................................................................. 23
Primary .......................................................................................... 23
Secondary .................................................................................... 24
Data Collection Techniques .................................................................. 25
Personal History Narrative ......................................................... 26
Classroom Observations ............................................................ 27
TeacherJoumal ........................................................................... 28
Teacher Interviews ..................................................................... 28
Examination of Planning Notes, Teacher
Records, and Student Work Samples ....................................... 33
Data Analysis .......................................................................................... 34

ix

Chapter Page

4. THE CASE OF EMILY GREW ..................................................................... 38
Emily ......................................................................................................... 40
Emily’ s Decisions About Classroom Design:

A Technical Alignment with Process Theory ...................................... 41
Emily’sClassroom ............................................. ' ......................... 42
Daily Decisions: A Typical Schedule for
ProcessWIitingTime .................................................................. 48
Decisions to Establish Routines: Emily as
ThinkingTechnician ................................................................... 49

Emily’s Decisions About Structuring Interactions

WithStudents .......................................................................................... 53
Decisions: Making Focus Lessons a Place for
“Direct Teaching” ...................................................................... 54
Conferences ................................................................................. 59

On-Line Decisions During Individual Conferences:

Beginning to See What Emily Saw ...................................................... 62
Jenna: The Fat Penguin Story ................................................... 63
Timothy: “The Big Brown - A True Story Not” .................... 70
Theresa: Being “Receptive” -- The “Ideal Way
A Conference Should Work” ................................................... 76

Summary ................................................................................................... 79

5. GEITING EMILY’SATI‘ENTION .................................................................. 81
What Emily Noticed: Contextual and Instructional
Considerations ........................................................................................ 82

Contextual Considerations ....................................................... 83
Instructional Considerations ..................................................... 9O

Framing Her Decisions: Bases of Knowledge in

Experience ............................................................................................... 94
Personal History as the Basis of Knowledge .......................... 95

The Filter: Professional Development ............................................... 104
Transforming the Process: “Step by Step” .......................... 105
Attempting to Change Without a Challenge
orSupport ................................................................................. 107

A Secondary Layer of Decisions: Creating Learning Binds ......... 109
A Learning Bind: Emily’ s Perceptions of Students ............. 110
A Learning Bind: Emily’s Perceptions of Her
Own Ability ............................................................................... 112
A Learning Bind: Emily’s Decision-Making as a
Slippery Slope ........................................................................... 114

Summary ................................................................................................. 1 19

6. ON-LINE DECISION -MAKING: LESSONS FROM
THE CASE OF EMILY ................................................................................. 121
Leaming Binds As a Point of Reference ........................................... 123

Images of Teachers and Decision-Making:

The Need for Conscious Awareness ...................................... 123
Process Writing: Assumptions About
Teachers and Their Work ......................................................... 126
Teacher Decision-Making and the Impact
of Professional Development. ............................................................. 131
Profession Development and Decision-Making ................... 131
On-Line Decision-Making as Internal Conversation .......... 134
From the Case of Emily: Questions for Future Research ............... 138
Summary ................................................................................................. 142
APPENDICES
Appendix A ........................................................................................... 144
Appendix B ........................................................................................... 153
Appendix C ........................................................................................... 158
AppendixD ........................................................................................... 159
LISTOF REFERENCES .............................................................................................. 160

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1 -Interview Sites ................................................................................................. 31
Table 2 - Emily’ 8 Talk About Students and Writing ................................................ 144
Table 3 - Focus Lessons and Conference Emphasis ................................................ 153

xii

Chapter 1

DECISION-MAKING: LEARNING TO RECOGNIZE
AND EMBRACE UN CERTAINTY

When I began my teaching career in 1977, I consistently held out hopes
that if I cared enough about my students and did sufficient planning, my
classroom and teaching practice would reflect the many wonderful and
hypothetical models I had been exposed to in my undergraduate teacher training.
They did not. On some days things looked wonderful. In reality, I often felt
adrift. Given daily interactions with students, I quickly came to realize that these
were not textbook images of children that I was dealing with. Real children were
complex and unpredictable. Often they did not do the things, or ask the
questions, that I anticipated. Additionally, I was not some composite drawing of a
teacher. I was a living and breathing adult with a complex history. I often
initiated and responded to actions in ways that were puzzling even to me. And
our interactions with each other were filled with the kind of uncertainty that
could not always be dealt with by my reliance upon the recipe type routines and
procedures I had worked so hard to master in my years of training to be a teacher.
When implementing models I seemed to be paying attention to quite different
things -- many of which I did not understand.

Although the term “uncertainty” has been utilized in various ways

(Jackson, 1986; Floden & Buchmann, 1993), I am using it here to talk about a

Although the term “uncertainty” has been utilized in various ways
(Jackson, 1986; Floden & Buchmann, 1993), I am using it here to talk about a
phenomena that appears across various levels of teaching -- its nature, action and
context. First, the nature of teaching is human and thus unpredictable. More
specifically, I use it to characterize the causal relationships of actions teachers
take that are too fast to be the product of conscious theory and the actions
teachers take when faced with multiple possible next moves. In addition, I
propose that this uncertainty is inherent in the spontaneity and instability of
classroom contexts.

I have been a classroom teacher for over fourteen years now. During this
time I have continued to notice how many of my decisions are spontaneous, in—
the-moment, and outside of consciousness -- their cause and direction uncertain.
Things just happened -- an uneasy and unsettling series of events. For example,
students would ask questions that I had not anticipated. Or a “great idea”
would occur to me midStream through an interaction with a student and I would
seem to invent a response. On other occasions students would seem to resist my
plans and I would not know what to do. I would hold their actions and motives
suspect and respond to their movements accordingly. A listing of these moments
of uncertainty would be endless. They were a part of nearly every interaction I
had with students.

It was not that I hadn’t done adequate planning. In fact I was a
methodical planner. I considered such things as material needs, procedures and

outcomes. This planning seemed to provide the broad parameters for my work

 

with students. However, the thinking I was doing “in action” felt different. I
could not explain it well. I did not understand it clearly. It wasn’t a matter of
disregarding the plans. It just seemed more fluid and complex. Thus, teacher
planning per se was not my problem, nor is it the problem on which I focus this
study.

Over the last several years I have also worked as a teacher educator. I
have taught courses at the undergraduate level and supervised student teachers.
In both instances I discovered that with a bit of practice my college students
became quite good at planning classroom lessons. Although they sometimes
struggled with the mechanics of developing lesson plans, they eventually talked
with case about such things as lesson objectives, materials, outcomes and
procedures. In fact, many of their questions were not focused on the planning of
their lessons. They were about the execution of them. In particular, they wanted
to know what to do when their meticulously crafted plans became filled with
moments of uncertainty -- given their dependence upon unpredictable
interactions with students.

I felt uncomfortable in trying to address their questions. I had a very
limited vocabulary for dealing with, and/or describing, these frequent on-line
interactions that teachers have with their students daily, hourly, or from moment
to moment. I used pat phrases, like: “It’s the art of teaching,” “You’ll get it with
more experience,” and “It’s intuition!” These responses didn’t help them and

they did not satisfy me.

As a teacher educator I have also taught courses at the graduate level. In
these courses the participants were mostly experienced teachers. They also
struggled with how to deal with the uncertainty of on-line interactions with
students. This was particularly true when we would be discussing a particular
method of instruction. Eventually they would begin asking questions or making
comments that began with such phrases as, “But with my students...” or “What
do you do when ‘Johnny’....”Their comments reflected their own struggles with
the moment by moment uncertainty of on—line interactions with their students.
And I was at a loss for how to talk about this uncertainty in meaningful ways. As
a result, I often worried about what they would take away from our work
together and how these ideas might later be implanted into their classrooms.

Process Writing as a Context for Studying
Decision-Making in Uncertainty

The issue of uncertainty in on-line interactions, one I struggled with as a
teacher and as a teacher educator, became clear to me again during the 1992
academic year. At that time I was teaching fifth grade and working on my Ph.D.
part-time. Through a variety of experiences, I became interested in an approach
to classroom writing instruction that is often referred to as process writing. By
attending workshops, reading, and observing another teacher I learned about
how to set up my classroom for a writing workshop -- a format for classroom
instructional design based on process writing.

Having studied process writing -- although not fully comprehending its
daily implications -- I set up my classroom for a writing workshop that year.

There was a writing area filled with supplies. I organized the classroom for writing

 

on student selected topics. We had sharing times, peer conferences and

teacher/ student conferences over writing efforts. In short, I found that I could
fairly easily manage the mechanics and scheduling issues for developing a
classroom writing workshop. In fact, things began quite well. My students wrote
extensively and with enthusiasm.

However, I soon began to have concerns. I was accustomed to having
neatly scripted and organized lessons with teacher-led instruction. In contrast,
this approach placed a good deal of emphasis on individual conferences with
students in which they took the “lead.” I had to make decisions on the spot. I
often felt uncertain about what to do next in these conferences. The advocates
of this approach to writing instruction did not adequately address this issue. As
a result, like my college students, I knew how to design the technical part of the
curriculum, but I was far less certain about how to handle the on-line interactions
I was having with my fifth graders about their writing efforts. The roles and
instructional designs urged by process writing advocates had increased the
frequency of on-line interactions that were uncertain in nature and, given a less
teacher-centered model, I became even more painfully aware of them.

A process writing approach to writing instruction is, by its very nature,
filled with in the moment and on-line decision—making. As such, it is an ideal
context for exploring teacher thinking amid the uncertainty of such on-line
interactions. In order to better demonstrate how process writing is a useful

context for the study of these issues, I will next explain in more detail how

advocates of this approach to writing instruction envision it and how that vision
promotes and increases opportunities for on-line decision-making.

A number of individuals have contributed to our understanding of writing
as a process -- rather than the accumulation of static and prescribed skills -- and
writing instruction as the embodiment of that process in school settings.
Frequently recognized as the visionaries of the approach to process writing are
Donald Murray (1985, 1990), Donald Graves (1983, 1990), and Lucy Calkins
(1983, 1986, 1991). The process they advocate involves creating teaching and
learning opportunities that provide students with the ability to engage in writing
experiences and activities similar to those of professional writers. This involves a
cyclical and overlapping movement through various phases of writing:
prewriting (gathering ideas, topics, etc.), drafting (usually multiple), revising (for
content, purpose, audience), editing (focusing on writing conventions), and
publishing (making the writing public to others). Often student writers may be
working simultaneously on multiple pieces of text, as well as circling back and
forth through the phases (Calkins, 1991).

As mentioned earlier, the process writing approach is often operationalized
in elementary classrooms by developing a “Writing Workshop.” In Writing:
Teachers & Children at Work, Graves (1983) explains how to set up such a
classroom for writing instruction. Calkins expands on this in The Art of Teaching
Writing (1986), with updates in Living Between the Lines (1991). As explained
by these authors (with some variation of terminology and items), central features

of a classroom organized around writing as a process would include:

 

1. Student selection of topics and genre.

2. Opportunities for collaborative writing efforts. These could be
configurations of children and/or the teacher.

3. Students working in various phases of the writing process
simultaneously. (As opposed to everyone in the same place at
the same time.)

4. Writing for multiple audiences — with opportunities for
publishing work.

5. The use of notebooks or folders for collecting writing and
maintaining writing efforts.

6. Conferences around writing text and efforts. These would
vary between teacher-student and peer conferences.

7. “Mini-lessons” that are meant to help children understand and

move within/through the phases.

8. Student ownership and self direction in writing efforts.

9. Emphasis on ideas and the process. Focus on mechanics being
reserved primarily for the editing phase.

10. Writing done daily.

11. Emphasis on process over product.

12. The teacher works on and shares his/her own writing efforts.

Given the features of this approach, there are numerous opportunities for
teacher decision-making in on-line interactions. Among the most salient and rich

of these are the conferences around writing text and efforts that are held

between teachers and students. For example, teachers meet daily with students
for conferences over their writing efforts. Because students are in various phases
of the process and are dealing with the struggles of self selected writing efforts,
they do not present themselves or their work as opportunities for tightly
scripted/routine interactions. Teachers must respond to the students, their works
and the situation as they unfold in the interaction. This provides for numerous
interactions filled with uncertainty for both the teacher and the student.

Also, as I discovered in my own attempt at implementation, embedded in
the features of a process writing program is the notion that classrooms should
become a community of learners in which everyone is both a teacher and a
learner (Calkins, 1986). Consequently, advocates promote a shift away from the
teacher’ s role as primary authority or expert as teachers and students interact
while engaged in writing efforts. Calkins urges the teacher to take on the role of
a “listener, a coach.” Lensmire (1994) originally characterized the teacher’s role
as being supportive, encouraging and orchestrating. Further, teachers are
encouraged to move away from teacher centered instructional models. As
Calkins (1986) indicates, “The writing process does not fit into teacher-led, whole
class methods of instruction.” This is not meant to suggest that teachers need to
take a “back seat” to students in their interactions about their writing. In fact
Calkins (1991) urges teachers not to be afraid to teach. But rather, advocates
suggest a relationship in which teachers respect children and their efforts as
writers and allow them ownership and more control in determining the direction

of their writing, as well as identifying their needs. As students gain more control

 

of the interactions they have with teachers, as well as the direction of their work,
uncertainty for teachers is increased.

In fact, while advocates of the process writing approach argue for a less
teacher centered approach to writing instruction, they do not clearly articulate
the specifics of a more desirable role. For example, given the push for student’s
self selection of topics, what do teachers do when students present topics that are
violent, sexist, or in other ways objectionable to the teacher? Teacher’ 3
interactions are even more uncertain because teachers have far less direction in
knowing what teacher actions correspond with their new role (Lensmire, 1994).
These are decisions teachers have to make on-line. Consequently, the use of this
approach provides increased opportunities for examining teacher decision-
making in on-line interactions.

Decision-Making: Reflecting Images of Teachers’ Work

When I became a teacher I thought my job was fairly clear. I was to take
known information, plan for ways to present it to my students, implement the
lesson and evaluate its effectiveness. I learned about what were reported to be
the most effective ways to present information to students. If I followed the steps
and did them well my students would learn.

In my own experiences, the match between my image of a teacher’s work
and the actual work was never a complete one. Missing was a fuller
understanding of teacher thinking that could help me to deal with decision-
making as it occurred amid the uncertainty of my on-line interactions with

students. Rather than viewing this decision-making as an opportunity for

 

10

learning, I sought to eliminate it -- and it limited my practice. I had no tools for
exploring it. I could not even name it adequately. My work as a teacher educator
suggested that I was not alone.

Today, as a researcher, I think that teachers (like me) layer their practice
with routines of various kinds, at least partially in an attempt to avoid the perils
of uncertainty to be found in on-line interactions. Teacher educators may
encourage this by emphasizing methods without attending to the issue of
uncertainty. I find this to be troubling. For one thing, rigid adherence to routines
may reduce opportunities for uncertainty, but even as a novice teacher I had
learned that they did not eliminate them. Even more importantly, attempting to
eliminate or avoid the uncertainty of on-line interactions may be the wrong goal.
Doing so may remove or reduce opportunities for seizing important and teachable
moments -- the unplanned moments when opportunities present themselves for
exploration in educative ways. In this regard, I am reminded of the haunting title
of a book by Albert Cullum (1971), The Geranium on the Windowsill Just Died,
but Teacher You Went Right On. Strict adherence to routines may reduce or
eliminate uncertainty and allow the teacher to go on. However, they may also
eliminate opportunity and allow classroom “geraniums” to die unrecognized.

Although I recognize that some routines are necessary for classroom order,
layers upon layers of them are not. Noting, exploring, and even inviting, the
uncertainty of on-line interactions holds many potential benefits. It may help us
to better understand teachers and their interactions with learners in school

settings -- as well as how to maximize the potential for exploiting the educative

11

moment. But first we need to develop a better understanding of the on—line
thinking and decision-making that teachers do when interacting with children
amid uncertainty.

As I explored my own experiences, I began to wonder about the kinds of
images of teachers and their work that guided my practice. What role did they
play in how I dealt with decisions made in the midst of on-line interactions? Were
there others that might have potential for embracing the thinking that occurs in
on-line interactions? What might be the companion conceptions of knowledge,
practice and expertise that would support such an image? If these images existed,
what sense did they make of the complexity of teacher thinking? What might be
the status of research efforts that explore teacher thinking? And what kind of

research might be the next step in exploring this line of inquiry?

Chapter 2
TEACHER THINKING: FROM THE LINEAR TO THE “MESSY”

The image we hold of the teacher is paramount to how we think about
teachers’ training, their work, and their thinking. This image has ranged from a
portrayal of teachers as technicians to SchOn’s (1983) casting of the teacher as a
reflective practitioner. The prevailing image shapes curriculum and
implementation efforts. I have proposed that teachers’ work is frequently
encased in the uncertainty of on-line interactions with students. Teachers realize
this but often attempt to eliminate this uncertainty. Perhaps, given the images of
their work that mold their professional lives, they can do little else -— especially if
they do not have supports for different ways of thinking and doing. However, if
we are to better understand the work of teachers and provide support for that
work, we need to begin with the images we hold of teachers -— as well as the
notions of knowledge, practice and expertise that accompany them.

I begin by examining a historical image of the teacher as technician. I will
suggest that the legacy of this view diverted our attention from the exploration of
teacher thinking and has tainted our more recent assumptions about how
teachers think and make decisions. Next I will explore a contemporary image of
the teacher as a reflective practitioner. In doing so I will demonstrate that this
view holds that the thinking of teachers is fluid, iterative and embedded in the

uncertainty of interactive teaching situations. Finally, I will propose that the next

12

13
stage of this research involves the exploration and naming of those features
teachers attend to in making choices or decisions “in action” with students. To
make this case, I will draw from the literature on teacher thinking, decision-
making, knowledge, practice and expertise.
The Teacher as Technician -- an Enduring Legacy

The image of the teacher as a technician has been pervasive in the

literature over the years. Sedlak and Schlossman (1987) documented the

historical predominance of women in the teaching field. Not trusting in teachers’

 

capacities, administrators placed teachers under bureaucratic controls and thus
they functioned within a system that lowered the level of teaching by providing a
“teacher proof” curriculum. Embedded in this enduring image of teachers were
notions of teacher knowledge, practice and expertise. It suggested a view of
knowledge as being reproductive and transmittable -- primarily from the teacher
to students. Teachers were at the center of this transaction (Cuban, 1984).
Jackson (1986) referred to this view of practice as mimetic -- “giving a central
place to the transmission of factual and procedural knowledge from one person to
another, through an essentially imitative process” (p. 117). The role of the
teacher was to transfer this static and factual knowledge to the student using a
variety of procedures. Teachers’ thinking and actions then were directed toward
the mastery and skillful execution of these procedures.

Kennedy (1987) suggested that these views of professional practice have
been a staple of teacher education programs, which have been heavily
influenced by what she referred to as “expertise as technical skill.” She
suggested that such expertise was mimetic and consisted mainly of the mastery of

technical skills. These notions about teachers’ knowledge, practice and expertise

14
had a long and prosperous legacy. Cohen (1988) traced them from medieval
times and suggested that, “Contemporary instructional practices embody an old
inheritance. In this inheritance, teachers are active, they are tellers of truth who
inculcate knowledge in students. Leamers are relatively passive; students are
accumulators of material who listen, read, and perform prescribed exercises. And
knowledge is objective and stable” (p.10).

Given these notions about teachers’ roles, little emphasis was placed on

 

teacher thinking. Since knowledge was “objective and stable”, the teacher’s role
was to acquire systematic procedures for passing it on to students. What
mattered was that teachers could master and implement the technical aspects of
prescriptive exercises thought necessary to do this.
Transition: The Teacher as a Thinking Technician

Given the conception of teachers as mere technicians, only minimal
attention was given in the literature and research to the complexity of teacher
thinking and the nature of decision-making in their interactive work with
students. Clark and Peterson (1986) provided the first comprehensive review of
the research that did exist on teacher thinking in the Handbook of Research on
Teaching, 3rd edition (W ittrock, 1986). In their review they noted that research
in this area was quite new -- although it had roots in teacher and curriculum
effectiveness studies. The second edition of the handbook did not even include a
chapter or reference to research on teachers’ thought processes. In fact, the vast
majority of work in this area had been done since the development of the
Institute for Research on Teaching in 1976. Clark and Peterson categorized the
research into three interrelated domains: (a) teacher planning (preactive and

postactive thoughts) - the thought process teachers engage in both before and

15

after classroom interactions, (b) teachers’ interactive thoughts and decisions -
those found in the context of working with students, and (c) teachers’ theories
and beliefs - relating to the knowledge teachers have that shapes the other two
domains.

As presented by Clark and Peterson (1986), the summary of the research
on teachers’ thought processes was foundational to the move away from a
characterization of teachers as technicians who execute skilled performances
according to established formulas and routines. They suggested that the work of
teachers was more diverse, complex, and not unlike that of such professions as
physicians, architects and lawyers. They argued that this altered view had the
capacity to change the “...questions asked, methods of inquiry employed, and the
form of the results reported in the research on teacher thinking” (p. 256). Indeed,
this work began to do so. However, the legacy of earlier views of teachers’ roles,
work, and thinking remained in the assumptions upon which this work was
based.

Teacher Thinking: Discrete and Linear

One such assumption was that teacher thinking and action were made up
of discrete parts - as indicated by the separate (although interrelated) domains of
their model: Constraints and Opportunities, Teachers’ Thought Processes, and
Teachers’ Actions and their Observable Effects (Clark and Peterson, 1986, p.257).
Another assumption can be found in the language used by Clark and Peterson to
characterize teachers’ thought processes. It reflected a linear quality to their
view of teacher thinking. For example, they suggested that teachers’ thought
processes are “preactive, interactive, and postactive.” This language usage

continued to imply a unidirectional progression of teacher thinking.

16

Taken together, these assumptions continued to support technical images
of teachers, albeit thinking technicians. As such they did not account for the
thinking that teachers did in interactions that involved attending to things that
were unknown even to the teacher.

Teacher Thinking: Information Processing and Routines

In addition, the early models of teacher thinking and interactive decision-
making (Clark and Peterson, 1986) relied upon information processing and
carrying out established routines. These suggested that clear and conscious
choices were available and known to teachers during interactions. Teachers
remained central to the interactions and needed merely to make appropriate
selections. These assumptions did not account for interactions that did not simply
revolve around the teacher. In addition, they did not allow for the multiplicity of
choices available to teachers or the potential impact of unconscious factors.

As a whole, these assumptions continued to embody a dominantly
technical quality to teachers’ thinking and work. They were an improvement
over earlier process product and unidirectional work, and they served to set the
stage for research that allowed us to capture the richness, complexity and
uncertainty of more recent investigations of teachers’ thinking and work.

A Changing Image of the Teacher :
The Reflective Practitioner

During the last decade or so, the image of the teacher has moved away
from the more static and prescriptive one of a skilled technician--thoughtful or
otherwise. Many new images have been suggested in the literature. Cohen
(1988) suggests that reformers “see teachers as guides to inquiry, who help

students to learn how to construct knowledge plausibly and sensibly. And they

17
see knowledge as emergent, uncertain, and subject to revision -- a human creation
rather than a human reception” (p. 10). Lampert (1985) characterizes a teacher as
a “dilemma manager - a broker of contradictory interests, who builds a working
identity that is constructively ambiguous” (p. 178). She recognizes the
uncertainty of the teacher’ s work -- not as a target for linear problem solving --
but as a source of dilemmas to be managed and a rich repository for teacher
learning. Donald Schbn (1983, 1987) has contributed to a conception of the
teaching professional as a “reflective practitioner.” This conception holds that
the problems of practice do not “...present themselves as problems at all but as
messy, indeterminate situations” (1987, p.4).

What these emerging images of the teacher have in common are
conceptions of knowledge as constructed and reconstructed and practice (via
interactive work with students) as characterized by the kind of uncertainty I
described in chapter one. These images then call for a different kind of expertise.
SchOn’s image of the reflective practitioner is the most comprehensive and fruitful
to date. I will use it here to explore the character of teacher knowledge, practice
and expertise.

Nested within the image of the teacher as a reflective practitioner is a
constructionist view of knowledge (SchOn, 1983). I would argue that it is
socially constructed. This view holds an understanding of “...knowledge and the
authority of knowledge as community generated, community-maintaining
symbolic artifacts (Bruffee, 1986, p. 777). Knowledge is no longer stable and
transmittable. It must be constructed via semiotically mediated discourse.

Consideration of this conceptualization of knowledge dramatically

changes how we view the practice of teaching. No longer can the teacher be

18

viewed as one who merely transmits certain knowledge to passive students.
Rather, we acknowledge that through their interactions teachers and students
construct knowledge together. There may then be a need for teacher expertise
that may be more attentive to what Kennedy (1987) calls “deliberate action” -
which “assumes an interactive relationship between analysis and action such that
each influence the other.” In short, knowledge is constructed. The acts of
construction inherent in teaching are messy and filled with uncertainty --Sch6n’s
“indeterminate situations.” Analysis of the teacher’s “moves” when acting amid
this on-line uncertainty may serve as a rich resource for coming to understand
teacher thinking and ultimately professional knowledge. This conceptualization
requires us to not only accept uncertainty as a condition of teaching-but rather,
to embrace it. It is the artistry with which the teacher manages uncertainty that
constitutes a basis for professional knowledge.

Embracing Uncertainty and Understanding Professional Knowledge

Donald SchOn (1987) suggests that a point of departure for understanding
professional knowledge begins with “...the competence and artistry already
embedded in skillful practice - especially, the reflection-in-action (the ‘thinking
what they are doing while they are doing it’) that practitioners sometimes bring
to situations of uncertainty, uniqueness, and conflict” (p. xi). Again, he argues
that problems found in real world practice are indeed not “well-formed
structures”, but rather they are viewed as “messy, indeterminate situations (p.
4).” These problems cannot be “solved” from the perspective of technical
rationality -- which is dependent upon clear and fixed ends. Rather, SchOn

(1983) presents an argument for problem “setting” —- “...a process in which ,

19
interactively, we name the things to which we will attend and flame the context
in which we will attend to them” (p. 40).

Reflection-in-action, and the attendant problem setting, often occur in the
act of single interactions between students and teacher -- although they can also
occur over a period of interactions. They rest upon an assumption that choices in
interactive and indeterminate situations are not clear at the onset, nor is it simply a
matter of selecting from among choices. Rather, teachers are involved in a rich,
complex and shifting encounter with uncertainty and uniqueness. Their thinking
is fluid and iterative. They may attend to a host of features - perhaps including
such things as planning issues, time allotments, perceptions of the student, beliefs
about teaching and learning, etc. Sockett (1987) refers to this encounter as
“reason-in-action” (p. 7). “Here reason and action meet as practice; and they
meet in that unpredictable, changing, and uncertain context, the classroom” (p.7).

Moving Teacher Thinking Forward

SchOn points the way for research that would further our understanding of
teachers’ on-line thinking (and ultimately professional knowledge) by suggesting
that we need to ask “what we can learn from a careful examination of artistry,
that is, the competence by which practitioners actually handle indeterminate
zones of practice.” (1987, p. 13). Although he suggests that part of what he calls
“problem setting” is the naming of things to which professionals will attend, he
does not in fact name them for teachers. This study is intended to extend and
elaborate on Sch'On’ s work.

The intent of this study was both to explore and begin to name the
features which teachers attend to when working interactively with students in

the midst of uncertainty -- the indeterminate zone of practice. It examined one

20

teacher’s competence in dealing with fourth grade students in a process writing
approach to writing instruction. Through a variety of research methods (outlined
and explained in the following chapter) I observed and attempted to capture her
interactions with students during various uncertainty filled phases of instruction.
Together we explored her rationales for the decisions about teacher moves she
made within each interaction. Examination of these rationales provided an

opportunity to discern what she attended to in these moments of uncertainty.

 

Chapter 3
METHODOLOGY AND RESEARCH PROCEDURES

The purpose of this study was to explore teacher thinking as it occurred in
“on-line” interactions with students. In particular I wanted to name and
document what a teacher pays attention to when making choices among multiple
things she could do next. Writing instruction, particularly that using a process
approach, was a useful context for this examination due to its decision filled
nature. When using process writing, teachers are asked to follow the leads of
their students and/or to work in partnership with their students as those students
engage in writing efforts. Since constructing writing instruction in this manner
necessitates multiple and layered teacher choices, exploring it required the use of
a variety of methods. In this chapter I will Outline the methods used to explore
this issue. Then I will discuss my data analysis procedures.

Design

This study took place during the 199495 academic year. The primary
participant was a fourth grade teacher. Her students served as secondary
participants. As the primary and only researcher, I made daily observations of the
class writing instruction during two periods - one three week period in the fall
and one eight week period in the winter. The teacher and the researcher met for
interviews throughout the study. Using an ethnographic perspective, data were

collected using several sources: (a) a teacher/researcher constructed personal

21

22
history narrative; (b) classroom observations; (0) a teacher journal; ((1) interviews;

and (e) examination of teacher planning notes, records and student work samples.
Videotapes, audiotapes and photographs were made and used throughout the
study. Using the data collected, a case study of this teacher’s on-line thinking in
interactions with students during writing instruction was made.
Site
Emily’ s Classroom

Emily Grew taught fourth grade at Hillside Elementary School. Hillside was
part of a suburban public school district located outside of a medium sized
midwestem community.

I visited Emily’s classroom in the spring of 1994 to determine if it would be
an appropriate site for this study. The site needed to be one in which the teacher
was using a process writing approach to writing instruction —- operationalizing
the features I discussed in chapter one. During that visit (as well as early ones the
next fall) I determined that Emily’ s classroom was a good match. The daily
schedule included opportunities for short mini-lessons, student writing on self-
selected topics, peer and student-teacher conferences, opportunities for
collaborative work, students working in various phases of the process
simultaneously, student ownership and self direction in writing efforts and writing
done daily.

The room itself appeared to support efforts at implementing the process
writing approach. For example, there was an author’ s chair, where students sat
when sharing their writing efforts. There was a table and chairs where the
teacher met with students for conferences. Clipboards were available so that

students could move around the room to work with other students. A large

 

23
bulletin board was dedicated to explaining the various phases of the process.

Tables held various supplies to be used by student writers -— including forms for
taking writing efforts to the school’ s publishing center.

Emily had structured both the physical features of the room and the daily
routines to match the common features of a process writing approach. As such, it
was an appropriate site for this study.

Participants
any

The primary participant for this study was fourth grade teacher Emily
Grew, a thirty-six year old Caucasian female. I used three criteria in selecting
Emily for this study. First she was an experienced teacher. This was not to be a
study of the struggles faced by induction year teachers. At the time of this study
Emily was in her eighth year of teaching. Second she had been involved with
and committed to a process writing approach to writing instruction for some time.
I did not want this to be a study of changing teacher practice. Emily was
introduced to this approach in her teacher training course work and began using
it immediately in her classroom. At the time of the study she had been using this
approach to writing instruction for nearly eight years.

The third criteria for selection was more difficult to assess. One of the
goals of this study was to determine, in SchOn’s (1987) words “...what we can
learn from a careful examination of artistry, that is, the competence by which
practitioners actually handle indeterminate zones of practice...(p. 13)” Therefore
I wanted to find a teacher who could be judged as competent in the area of

process writing. The difficulty I faced was in determining what constituted

24
competence and how this might be judged. I could only judge from outside

appearances, aware that this might be inadequate.

I had met Emily a number of years before this study. At one time I had
even visited her classroom to observe her reading instruction. I was impressed
then by her pedagogical skills. Her teaching seemed fluid and responsive to
student needs, as opposed to being tied rigidly to the dictates of a prescribed
reading series. I also knew that Emily had been a founding member and officer in
a state wide group of educators interested in Whole Language approaches to
classroom instruction. Additionally she had been a presenter at two state wide
reading conferences on assessment related to her work with students in writing.
She also gave similar presentations to teachers in two school districts in the state.

In the spring of 19941 went to observe Emily’s writing instruction in her
classroom. In our conversation that day she mentioned that she was feeling a
need to refocus her energies in process writing. Afterwards I wrote her a note
outlining the study requirements and asking her to consider participation. I
asked her to give this some consideration before deciding. Several days later we
spoke on the telephone. She had some concerns about the time commitment. We
discussed this and she asked for another week to think about it. Shortly after
that I received a note from her expressing an interest in participating. We met
near the end of August, when I more formally outlined her role in the study and
we set up a schedule for the first set of observations in September.

Secondary

The twenty-four students assigned to Emily’s class were the secondary

participants in this study. Of these twenty-four students, two were special

education students assigned to this class as a home base. However, they were

 

25
never present during my observations. Of the remaining twenty-two students,

twenty were Caucasians, one was an African American/Asian, and one was
Hispanic. None of the students were a focus of this study, although Emily’s
interactions with them around their writing efforts were sites for choice making.
In particular, her interactions with three students, Theresa, Jenna, and Timothy
became important sites. I will discuss these in more detail later.
Data Collection Techniques

Examining the thinking that an individual teacher does when making
choices about “moves” to make when interacting with students during writing
instruction is a complex venture. This thinking may be influenced by the
teacher's own experiences as a learner, a writer, and a teacher of writing . Several
other factors might also come to bear upon these choices. These could include,
but not be limited to, the constraints and benefits of working in an institutional
setting, available resources, the capabilities of students, and teacher training in

subject matter and pedagogy.

In order to explore these factors and the relationship among them, as well
as their salience for teacher action, several sources of data were collected in this
study. These included: (a) a personal history narrative of the teacher; (b)
observations of classroom writing instruction and activities; (c) a teacher journal;
((1) teacher interviews; and (e) examination of planning notes, other teacher
records, and student work samples.

I collected data at various points throughout the 1994 - 1995 school year.
During the month of September I made eight observations over a three week
period. My intentions were to get a sense for how Emily established writing

routines during the beginning of the school year. I also wanted to pilot each of

26

the data collection techniques to see which might be most useful. In November I
met with Emily for a lengthy interview session to begin developing her personal
history narrative. Toward the end of January I began an eight week period of
classroom observations. Emily’s schedule allowed for four daily process writing
sessions per week, although occasionally changes in the schedule reduced this
number for particular weeks. In late May I met with Emily for one final follow up
interview.
Personal History Narrative

Teachers have long histories as both learners and writers. The contexts
for their experiences frequently exist both inside and outside of school settings.
In addition, most teachers have had some level of academic and/or inservice
training in the area of writing instruction. The type and nature of these
experiences may well affect the manner and substance of the choices they make
for their own classroom instruction (Florio-Ruane and Dunn, 1987; Holt-
Reynolds, 1990). Consequently, the teacher's history as a learner, a writer and a
teacher of writing needed to be considered in this study.

In November Emily and I met for a lengthy discussion about her history.
We talked at length about her family history, school experiences, experiences
with writing, and her professional development activities. This conversation was
preserved on an audiotape. I then transcribed the tape. I gave Emily a copy of
the transcribed tape. In the margins I wrote clarifying and expanding questions.
She read through the transcript, wrote responses to my questions, checked for
accuracy and added information. I then drafted a personal narrative account of
her history -- taking care to support facts and opinions with her own words.
Emily was then given a copy of the narrative and given an opportunity to make

any additions or deletions she desired.

27

Classroom Observations
The teacher choice making of interest to this study was done in the act of
interacting with students (SchOn, 1987). I made classroom observations of the
teacher and students engaged in writing instruction and activities to help in
identifying and then further exploring the nature of these choices and the factors
which influenced them.
Taking a participant-observer stance I made daily observations of writing

activities. Each day I took observation notes of classroom focus lessons,

 

conferences and other interactions or activities which occurred during my visits.
After leaving the site I returned to these notes and added further observations
and questions the activities might suggest as worthy of further exploration.

On two occasions I videotaped class focus lessons. On three occasions I
videotaped teacher-student conferences. These tapes served two purposes.
They preserved actual accounts of classroom interactions which could later be
used to develop detailed scenarios. Also, after taping I reviewed each tape. The
tapes were then used to pinpoint and illuminate individual instances or patterns
for further exploration with Emily. In these follow up discussions Emily and I
watched the videotapes together in an effort to reconstruct her thinking about
these events (Clark and Peterson, 1986).

On three occasions photographs were taken. In September I asked Emily
to take photographs of her students engaged in writing activities. I suggested
that she think of these photographs as visual aides for a presentation she might
be doing on what’s important in her writing program. In a follow up interview I
asked her to tell me why she had taken each photograph. This was an attempt to
begin to understand Emily’s perceptions of how process writing was being
operationalized in her own classroom. The other two occasions for

photographing were for documentation purposes. In January I took

 

28

photographs of the classroom arrangement. In March I took photographs of all

the children.

Teacher Journal

 

Reflecting on one's practice may have the advantages of bringing
influences to conscious thought, as well as being a force for thinking differently
about future actions (SchOn, 1987). Teachers may not always have opportunities
for such reflection in their daily practice, but given a useful vehicle might be able
to use these to excavate, examine, and inform their own thinking about practice.
Teacher written journals, with interaction by others, can be such a vehicle
(Heichel and Miller, 1993).

In the fall I gave Emily a journal in which to record her own thoughts
about her writing practice, students, or our interactions together. I asked her to
write in it two or three times per week. The intention was to make this an
interactive journal. I would occasionally ask questions or suggest topics she
could write on. Emily could also ask questions of me. Emily wrote in the journal
sporadically. However, what was written served to inform emerging themes and
hypothesis.

Teacher Interviews

 

I held teacher interviews throughout the study to unearth and explore
Emily’s thinking and choice making processes. The discussions in each of these
interviews were frequently of an open ended nature, but I often used data
collected from other sources (videos, student work samples, etc.) to give focus to
the interview. I selected the artifacts used in these interviews to shift focus across

a broad range of sites for exploration. Four sites were used:

29
Procedural Sites

Emily had established several procedures or routines for her classroom
work. For example, students used what she called a “journey sheet” to chart
their progress toward publishing a piece of writing. During one interview I asked
Emily to explain this procedure to me.

Individual Background Sites

Emily and I talked about her own background as a student, a learner and a
teacher. She also used interviews to give me background information on the
students in the class.

Group Interaction Sites

During each of the observation periods Emily met with the class as a
group. Sometimes this was for mini-lessons or to discuss class routines.
Occasionally these were videotaped and we then used the videotapes to explore
her interactions with the class.

Individual Interaction Sites

During the observations held in the winter Emily frequently met with
students for individual conferences about their work. I observed these and
videotaped some of them. We then used questions I had generated from
transcripts or actual videotape recordings of individual interactions to explore her
thinking about them. On occasion, we also used individual student work samples
in this way.

It should be noted here that in any one interview the discussion often
shifted among sites -- and this was by design. For example, while discussing a
procedure Emily would often use students as examples or would begin to talk

about her role as a writing teacher. I welcomed these cross references. They

30
helped me to capture a more holistic representation of Emily’ s actions and her

thinking. I have categorized interviews by my intentions for them and/or what
was the central focus of the interview.

During the interviews I nearly always selected the artifacts, as well as how
they would be used. For example, when I first showed Emily a videotape
(interview, 9/22/94), we started at the beginning of the tape and I asked her to
stop the videotape whenever she saw something she wanted to talk about. In
later interviews, I preselected sections of the tape to watch. Emily still had the

option of stopping the tapes at any point, but typically I selected the places to

 

stop for discussion.

As the study progressed, the focus site for interviews changed (see Table
1). In the early stages I attempted to develop operational definitions for the terms
Emily used to describe her writing program. For example, what did she mean by
“silent writing”? What was her working definition of “process writing”? I was
also interested in figuring out how she put the pieces of her instructional program
together. I made a few beginning attempts at exploring her perceptions of her
students and her own work. In essence, I tried to get a sense of what process
writing looked like in this classroom, how Emily operationalized her
understandings of it, and how she viewed her work with her students.
Consequently, one interview centered primarily on procedural sites using the
photographs I had asked her to take. The second interview revolved around a
whole class site and used a videotape of a focus lesson she had taught. We used

this videotape to begin talking about her views about the class.

31
Table 1: Interview Sites

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

32
In November I interviewed Emily for the purpose of constructing a

personal history narrative. I asked her to talk about her family, her experiences in
school, her experiences with writing, and anything else that occurred to her. This
was the only interview designed specifically to look at individual background as
a site. Student backgrounds emerged mostly in interviews that occurred around

individual interaction sites.

The second set of interviews occurred in the winter. I attempted to
interview Emily weekly, although this was not always possible due to the
constraints of an ever demanding school schedule. However, over the course of
eight weeks we held nine interviews. This was accomplished by having more
than one interview on some weeks. Again, I often used videos and other artifacts
as probes. During these interviews the sites shifted to a primary focus on
individual student sites. This reflected my own growing interest in the individual
teacher-student conferences as rich sites for exploring Emily’s thinking and
decision-making. However, I also occasionally returned to other sites. For
example, during one interview I asked Emily to again focus on the procedures she
had established to guide children toward publication of their writing efforts.
Returns to these sites allowed me to explore new procedures that I had not seen
or fully understood earlier, or to revisit sites with more fully informed probes.

Finally, in May we held one final interview. During this interview we
looked at the portfolios of three students -- Tim, Jenna and Theresa. I will discuss
these students later. We also used this as a follow up interview to address and
clarify issues I had found to be unclear in my initial attempts at data analysis.

Specifically I wanted to confirm Emily’s definition of “skills” and “content.” I

33
asked her to look at a fifth grade student’s writing sample, which I supplied, and

asked her to talk about it in terms of those categories.

Some of our interviews took the form of casual conversations while
walking down the hall, in between her conferences with students, or while the
children worked independently on some task. The topics for these ranged from
discussions of daycare arrangements for our own children to perceptions of
various students or curricular issues. These I recorded in my observation notes.

Emily and I held most interviews directly after the process writing time --
while the students were at lunch and recess. Interview lengths varied from
approximately forty minutes to two hours. All formal interviews were taped and
transcribed verbatim. I transcribed tapes as soon as possible after interviews so
that I could use them to inform my thinking and questions for the next interview.
As a consequence, subsequent interview topics and questions followed the
emergence of instances and patterns from the collection of other data (videos,
photographs, etc.) as well as from the transcripts of interviews. I often framed the
interview discussions with a list of questions, but overall they were of an open
ended nature.

Examination of Planning Notes, Teacher Records, and Student Work Samples

In setting goals and assessing their success, teachers frequently make use
of planning notes (lesson plans, etc.) as well as records of student performance
(grade books, etc.). In addition to these items, Emily maintained student
portfolios containing student work samples and other records of their progress.
Students also maintained control of written "works in progress." All of these
could be used by the teacher to make decisions about goals, to assess progress

toward those goals, and to inform her future decisions (Clark and Peterson, 1986).

34 “
For me they became valuable resources as both potential evidence of teacher

choice making and artifacts for reconstruction and exploration of those
deliberations.

Throughout the year I collected various classroom artifacts. I had access
to Emily’s planning notes throughout my observations. Occasionally I used
these as discussion points in our interviews. At the end of my observations I made
photocopies of these. Emily also gave me copies of worksheets, overheads, and
forms that she used for lessons or for organizational purposes. These were used
primarily for documentation, although some (such as their writing journey sheet)
were also used for interviews. I made copies of several student’s writing efforts
when these had potential for informing our discussions. During one interview,
Emily and I also went through three student’s portfolios to illustrate what she
looked for in assessing student’s writing activities. I also used this discussion to
explore her thinking about students.

Data Analysis

For analysis of the data I developed a case study of Emily Grew using an
ethnographic perspective (Bogdan and Biklen, 1982). Moving across all of the
data I extricated and explored themes and issues which emerged throughout the
study (Hammersly and Atkinson, 1990).

As is the case for most ethnographic work, informal data analysis occurred
even as data was being collected. In my own fieldwork journal I began to write
and think about emerging themes and developing tentative hypothesis. I used
interview transcripts to inform future interviews, etc. In this section, I will confine
the discussion to the formal level of analysis which occurred as the data

collection ended.

35
I note here that I was aided in my thinking and analysis by conversations

with other doctoral candidates and researchers. Most frequent and notable were
my conversations with my dissertation director, Dr. Diane Holt-Reynolds. We met
regularly during both the data collection and data analysis efforts. She read my
analytic memos, transcripts and observation notes. We discussed these and my
current thinking. I was also part of a writing group comprised of doctoral
students who were also engaged in research efforts. This group was moderated
by Dr. Suzanne Wilson. We met weekly through much of the proposal writing,
data collection and the early data analysis stages of this study. The group read
portions of transcripts from my interviews, observation notes, analytic memos, and
watched videos I had made of classroom interactions. Combined, these
conversations helped me to generate and test out hypotheses and to deepen my
thinking.

Using Hawkins’ notions about the “1, Thou, and It”( 1974), three
questions guided my analysis of the data. I began with the question, “How does
Emily talk about, or act in regard to, students?” As I read through each of the
interviews, observation notes, and journals I coded any information related to this
question. The tapes and student artifacts also helped in this effort. I paid
particular attention to, and made separate categories for three students: Jenna,
Timothy and Theresa. They had emerged earlier as fruitful sites for exploration
with Emily and were the subject of particular videotapes (except Jenna) and
subsequent interviews. After coding these I collated information under each
category.

I began by writing an analytic memo about Timothy. I wrote about how

Emily talked about Timothy, a description of a particular incident involving him

36
(see chapter four) and made charts that recorded all observations that involved

him and one that listed all of Emily’s descriptors for him. I did essentially the
same thing with Theresa and Jenna. As I shared these memos and my thinking
with Diane and members of my writing group I was reminded that I was not really
writing about these three students, but rather using them as sites to learn more

about Emily and her thinking. As a result, I began to ask the question, “What do

 

I learn when I examine Emily’ s talk and behavior in relation to ?” Using
this question I moved back through all of the data about each child and looked
for themes which might emerge in response to this question. I found and wrote
about things like Emily’ s role in writing instruction, the purpose of conferences,
etc. I then moved between the children and made sure that I had explored these
themes across categories. After completing these memos I made a large chart that
compared and contrasted my findings related to Emily’s talk and behaviors about
each child across these categories.

Finally, I made another large chart listing all of the students in Emily’s class
along one axis and the categories I had generated with Timothy, Theresa and
Jenna along the other. I then went back through the data I had coded and
completed the chart for each student in the class (see Appendix A).

Next I moved on to a second question to guide my analysis of the data:
“What are Emily’s projections about teaching generally and her own teaching?”
Again, moving across all of the data sources, I constructed the personal narrative
history. After this I moved across the same categories as were generated earlier

and wrote an analytic memo outlining Emily’s talk about each in relation to

herself.

 

37
For my next read through of all the data, I asked the question, “What does

Emily profess about writing and what does she do?” First I made a large chart
detailing all of the focus lessons and all of the conferences that I observed. 1 also
noted other features, such as if there was a silent writing time and what Emily did
during that time. Using Emily’s words for what constituted a content or skill
emphasis, I attempted to categorize all focus lessons and conferences. Then I read
through all the data and watched videotapes in the order in which events
occurred -- coding for information that would address the question above (see
Appendix B).

After coding the writing information I collated it and determined
categories. I was mindful of the categories already generated by my search for
information earlier, but I also wanted to be alert to any new possibilities. Once I
was satisfied with these categories, I wrote an analytic memo that focused on
each category and the information generated throughout the move through the
data sources.

Having completed the analysis, I outlined the case study of Emily and
selected sites that would illustrate what I had learned. I will discuss these in the

next chapters.

Chapter 4
THE CASE OF EMILY GREW

Emily Grew’s classroom proved to be an excellent site for observing
teacher decision-making in the context of process writing instruction. When I
first walked into Emily Grew’s classroom to observe her classroom writing
instruction, I saw many examples of her commitment to a process writing
approach. For example: Students selected writing topics and formats. They had a
ten minute silent writing period daily. They kept their writing in folders. And
classroom materials and procedures were designed to give them opportunities for
publishing their work. Just glancing around the room it seemed clear to me that
Emily was engaged in the acts of operationalizing process writing in her
classroom. For me this suggested a teacher who was guided in her choice making
by her understandings of writing and learning to write as a process.

As the study continued I witnessed Emily’s interactions with students
during classroom focus lessons and individual student/teacher conferences
around their writing efforts. Emily’s interactions with students during process
writing instruction occurred in exactly the kind of uncertainty-rich context I had
imagined. She used the elements of process writing that are inherently decision-
filled and that defy planning. I knew I would have many opportunities to see on-

line decision-making.

38

39
As I observed Emily’s on-line decision-making in interactions with

students, I noted that they could not be easily explained by simply referencing
process writing experts. Her decision-making appeared more complex and
connected to other things. Emily’s implementation included actions and
activities that differed from what “pure” process writing experts might advocate.
It became clear that she had adapted process writing ideals to fit her context and
her attention to other concerns. Once again, I felt assured that her instruction and
the on-line thinking that supported it would reveal areas of attention that went
beyond mere implementation of a high profile model.

I will present the case of Emily Grew’ s on—line decision-making as I
discovered it, first by introducing Emily herself and then by exploring the sorts of
decisions she made in the context of process writing. These were a layered set of
decisions and appeared to be tied to various types of teacher knowledge and
expertise.

The first set of decisions I will report focus on her choices for arranging the
physical layout of her classroom, as well as her decisions about the selection and
ordering of events into a daily schedule. As I discuss these choices I will illustrate
how heavily they rely on process writing theory for their guidance. Emily’s use
of process writing theory to guide decisions suggests that teacher as technician
models of thinking, as discussed in chapter two, may be useful for understanding
teacher thinking when decision parameters are relatively certain.

Next I will briefly discuss Emily’ s decisions to establish instructional
routines -- such things as focus lessons, conferences and procedures for
publishing children’s work. These decisions also revealed her use of process

writing theory as the basis for her decision-making. This in turn suggests that an

40
existing model -- teacher as thinking technician -- usefully explains how some

types of teacher decisions occur.

Finally, I will demonstrate how Emily’s enactment of focus lessons and
conferences relied on sets of decisions that were of necessity guided by
something other than process writing theory. I will also present three very
specific examples of on-line decision-making during individual conferences with
three students: Jenna, Tim, and Theresa. These examples will demonstrate that
Emily’s on-line decision-making was attentive to factors other than process
writing theory. As such they will set the stage for talking about what Emily did
pay attention to when making on-line decisions during the uncertainty of
interactions with her students -- as well as how her thinking in these moments
supports an image of teachers that moves well beyond technical ones.

Emily

Emily was a petite 36 year old Caucasian woman. She was immaculately
dressed -- generally in long skirts, dresses or slacks and sweaters. Her clothing
appeared to be very expensive and tailored. I could not recall a time when she
wore the same outfit twice. She was well groomed with manicured fingernails and
her shoulder length brown hair was nearly always held back from her face with a
headband coordinated to match her clothing.

Emily’s speech was fast. It was punctuated by half finished thoughts and
sentences left dangling as she began another one. She described herself as
someone who talked too much (observation, 3/9/95). Emily smiled often in daily

conversations with her students and was quick to make jokes and gently tease.

41
Emily described herself as an “outgoing” person -- something she

attributed to frequently finding herself to be the “new kid in class” as a result of
her father’ s military career:

I think our family, all four of us, are really outgoing, and you can put me in

a new situation and I get a little nervous, but I notice when [my husband]

and I go to parties together, he’s somewhat shy at first, not shy, but he’s

more reserved and I can just walk up to people and say, “Hi I’m Emily

Grew” and introduce myself and [my husband] doesn’t do that and a lot

of people I know don’t do that. I can just walk into a situation and feel

pretty comfortable and I think it’s because I had to be the new kid in class,

like seven times. (interview, 11/21/94)

Emily also described herself as a “self—motivated” person. During one
interview she talked about the lack of mentoring in her career at Hillside
Elementary and how she had made changes on her own. “Everything I do and I
change is because I am self motivated” (interview, 1/26/95).

Being “outgoing” and “self motivated” may well have been the personal
qualities that empowered Emily to actively pursue the implementation of process
writing in her classroom. She decided to develop a process writing approach to
writing instruction in her classroom. It was encouraged by her school district, but
not a mandate. She sought out help from such process writing advocates as Ruth
Nathan -- approaching Nathan at conferences that she attended. Emily found
many of her own resources for her writing program and did independent readings

to supplement her understanding of the process.

Emily’ 3 Decisions About Classroom Design:
A Technical Alignment with Process Writing Theory

Many of Emily’ s decisions about classroom arrangement and the use of
time were logical extensions of her readings and workshop trainings -- more

nearly technical in nature. As Emily arranged the furniture and collected materials

42
for her classroom, she took into account the needs of her process writing

program. She arranged a work environment that promoted and/or facilitated
many of the features of process writing outlined in chapter one. For example, she
pushed desks together and provided other spaces where she and the students
could work collaboratively on writing efforts. In this section I will attempt to
provide a View of Emily’s classroom -- specifically as her choices about it
supported her attempts to implement a process writing approach. I will do this by
panning my lens, as an observer, around the room -- noting those features which
Emily specifically designed with process writing in mind. Her choices as she
designed her classroom in this way belonged to the category of decisions that are
again characteristically technical -— ones which would be expected when
operating from an image of teachers as technicians. I will also use this section as
an opportunity to show the reader the immediate context in which Emily worked.
In order to do this it will occasionally be necessary to highlight some classroom
features that were not specifically designed to support Emily’s process writing
program.

In this section I will also describe Emily’ s choices for structuring time for
process writing. Again, I note these to illustrate the technical characteristics of

these decisions and their reliance upon process writing theory for guidance.
Emily’ 3 Classroom

Emily’s classroom was located about halfway down a long corridor on the
north side of Hillside Elementary School. Upon entering it, I noted that its
configuration promoted collaborative work among students and Emily -- an

important feature of process writing. My impression proved accurate. In the

43
center of the classroom Emily had pushed desks together in groups of four or

five. These groupings served as organizational units for various class studies. For
example, for several weeks the class studied several countries and Emily assigned
each desk grouping a particular country. As a group they produced a report on
their assigned country. During process writing time the students typically sat at
their desk groupings for whole class “focus lessons.” At other times they got
clipboards, to be used for a writing surface, and moved around the room. Emily
allowed them to work alone or with peers that they themselves selected.
Another area of the room where students congregated and collaborated
during writing time was the “back comer.” This was an area that took up nearly
one quarter of the room’s space. Along two sides of it were bookshelves filled
with a variety of novels, picture books, and reference books. Above one set of
bookshelves were two windows. In the comer was a floor lamp for additional
lighting. On each of the other sides was a large couch. Next to one of the
couches was a cage for the class pet -- a gerbil that died in the spring. In one
comer there was a director’ s chair that was labeled and served as the class
“Author’s Chair.” Across from it, in another comer of the area was a large
wooden rocking chair. During writing time students often sat on the chairs and
couches or spread out on the carpeted floor. Occasionally Emily would even
direct the whole class to sit in the “back comer” for an activity -- such as when
someone had published a story. The student author would then sit in the
author’s chair and read his/her text. The author’s chair gave students the
opportunity to share their work with “multiple audiences.” Both having the
chair and using it for such opportunities were direct instantiations of process

writing.

44
Emily also chose to display children’ 8 published works. On the wall,

behind one of the couches, was a chalkboard that ran nearly the entire length of
the classroom. Attached to it were two long wires with clothespins clipped to
them. Occasionally Emily would use the clothespins to attach examples of
children’ s work for display. There was also a basket for “dummy books” (final
drafts of books sent to the school Publishing Center) kept in the room.

Advocates of process writing urge teachers to allow students to work on
individual texts -- with different students involved in different phases of the
process at the same time (Calkins, 1991). Emily chose to promote and manage this
with a bulletin board on the far end of the chalkboard. Attached with magnetic
strips were several large pieces of laminated poster board. Emily cut these out to
resemble pieces of. a jigsaw puzzle. Each had a phrase written on it: “Writing
isn’t a puzzle... just follow the process!,” “Brainstorm for topics and ideas,”
“Write a draft,” “Conference with a partner,” “Edit your draft,” “Teacher
conference,” “Make a dummy copy” and “Publish.” Emily explained to me that
these pieces represented the various stages of the writing process. Emily also
included these puzzle pieces on a “journey sheet” that children used to chart
their progress toward sending a piece of writing to the school’s Publishing
Center. Attached to each puzzle piece were a variety of numbered clothespins.
Emily assigned each child to a number. She said that students were to use the
clothespins as ways to indicate what stage of the process they were currently
working on so that she could monitor this. However, I never observed either
Emily or the students using this Clothespin monitoring system and she indicated
that she didn’t use it much because “.... I’ve gone away from that because I

guess I look around and I kind of know”(interview, 3/22/95).

45
Emily determined the need for, and provided students with, a variety of

writing supplies, as well as forms for publishing their writing efforts. For example,
running perpendicular to the wall with the chalkboard was a low cabinet. Emily
used the top of this to keep various classroom writing supplies. There was a box
with spell checkers that Emily encouraged the students to use when they tried to
use words in their writing that they could not spell. There was a basket of
markers and stackable trays with forms used for conferencing and the school’s
Publishing Center. There was also a basket where the students were to place
their writing drafts when they were ready for a conference with Emily. Pushed
up against the cabinet was a desk where Emily often met with individual students
for conferences about their writing. During conferences I usually pulled up a
chair and sat off to one side of Emily and the student. The class computer often
stood in a corner behind this. Occasionally the students used it to do their own
composing of text and/or final drafts of text. The class overhead projector and
screen, which Emily often used for focus lessons, were also in this comer.
Running along the next wall were more bookshelves filled with books that
Emily occasionally used when working with students. She would occasionally
pull out a book and use it as an example or talk about it as a source for
information on a student’s writing topic. Next to these was a long counter, with
storage cabinets above and below. Emily stored other supplies on this counter.
The next wall included a long chalkboard, with smaller bulletin boards on
either end. One of these bulletin boards contained information about how to use
the class computer -- which was periodically placed in front of it. The other
bulletin board held a large class calendar and the school lunch calendar. Emily

used the chalkboard in between for many things. She had blocked off a small

46
section of it with a border. Inside it Emily had written the time schedule for the

day. Next to these she attached pieces of poster board with magnetic strips -- so
that she could move them easily. On each piece of poster board Emily had
written activities for the day, such as “math, process writing," etc. Emily would
move these around as each day’ s schedule warranted. Emily chose to make
process writing a four day per week activity in her classroom -- thus allowing for
writing done as a nearly daily event. On the other end of the chalkboard Emily

8 had placed various teacher made posters. One, entitled “Proofreading Marks,”
had five markings used to represent various things. For example, one line said:
“Make a small letter.” There was also a poster titled “Process Writing Choices.”
It listed such suggestions as “Brainstorm for new topics,” “Gather information
for a new topic,” etc. In January Emily put up a poster board called the “Expert
Chart.” Emily explained that she developed this chart after she decided to have
a brainstorming session with students in which she directed them to name all of
the things that go into the process of publishing a book. In this way they
generated categories such as “drafting, illustrating,” etc. Then Emily told
students to write down the categories they felt they were good in. Emily then
made the chart by listing the categories and the names of several students for
each one. She would sometimes list people in categories she felt they were good
in but did not always list them where they felt they were strong, if she did not
agree. She told students to use this chart to get help when they needed it from
the classroom experts. Emily said that she had gotten the idea for this chart from
author/educator Ruth Nathan and that she liked it because “... I’m not an expert
in all areas” (interview, 3/2/95). The chart encouraged student collaboration on

work -- a technical feature promoted by process writing advocates.

47
Emily had placed her desk at an angle facing the rest of the room. Various

kinds of paper work and books often covered it. I typically sat there to do
observations of whole class lessons or activities. Next to her desk was a lounge
chair and student mailboxes.

Hanging across the middle of the room were two wires with clothespins
attached to them. Emily often attached student work samples to them. There
were also a variety of other posters hung throughout the room. Some were
thematic, such as a large drawing of the globe surrounded by maps labeled with
the names of the countries they were studying in January. Other posters were
informational. For example, one she labeled “Free time? Here are choices!”
Underneath it she listed such things as “Read silently, Process write, etc.”
Another poster was one made by Emily’ 8 student teacher -- under Emily’ s
direction. It was titled, “What makes a good title?” Under this title several
suggestions were listed, such as “Have the title ask a question???” and “Have it
sound interesting.” Emily indicated that charts, such as this title one, were
usually part of a lesson with the class on such topics as “good beginnings” and
“good endings.” Emily would Show the students examples from various books
and then they would brainstorm ideas together for the chart.

I did daily data collection during the fall and then a number of months later
in the winter. The room set up changed very little. The only significant changes
were the placement of various posters, displays of student work, and thematic
bulletin boards and other displays. Also, Emily had a student teacher in her room
during the fall, so a desk for her was set up in one comer and then removed

during the winter observations.

48
Emily’s decisions about classroom layout were not the on-line, in the

moment teacher decisions I set out to observe. They are not therefore the focus
of this study. Rather, they represent the sorts of decisions we can understand if
we think of teacher’s decisions as technical and of teachers as technicians. They
relied heavily and directly on process writing theory, as well as on Emily’s
personal commitment to the task of situating a process writing approach into her
classroom.
Daily Decisions: ATypical Schedule for Process Writing Time

Emily described a typical day of process writing in her classroom as
follows:

...It’s process writing and then during that time the kids probably know

that they’re going to get a focus lesson, that somebody may share a story,

that they’re going to get silent time, they’re going to get some

conferencing time. They’re very familiar with what we’re going to do

(interview, 1 1/21/94).
Although there were a few variations between the fall and winter observations,
this was the typical format Emily followed each day. This format also reflected
Emily’ s decisions to incorporate the features of a process writing classroom
promoted by advocates into her own classroom. As such, this incorporation
represented another set of decisions that were primarily technical -- a sensible
transfer of daily features outlined by advocates into Emily’s own classroom
setting.

One such feature was whole class “mini-lessons.” She referred to these as
“focus lessons.” During my thirty-three visits to Emily’s classroom for
observations of writing lessons, Emily decided to begin twenty-three of them

with some kind of focus lesson. These focus lessons were typically followed by

ten minutes of “silent writing time.” On twenty-five occasions Emily instructed

49
the children to do “silent writing.” Occasionally she began writing this way, but

most frequently this silent writing time followed the day’s focus lesson.

After silent writing time Emily began conducting individual
teacher/ student conferences. During the fall observation period there were no
conferences. However, during the twenty-five days of observation in the winter,
Emily decided to hold individual conferences on twenty-one days. Although
there were more, I directly observed seventy-one of these conferences.

While Emily conferred with individual students or small groups, she
allowed the other students to work quietly with partners on their writing efforts.
Generally, Emily would continue conferencing with individual students until it
was time for lunch. The process writing time lasted from 40 - 60 minutes on four
days per week.

Emily’s decisions about the physical layout of her classroom and the
components of her daily format for writing instruction represented her dedicated
and sensible attempts to create an environment for the implementation of a
process writing approach. As she borrowed directly from process writing theory,
these decisions functioned appropriately at the technical level of teacher
knowledge and expertise.

Next I will look briefly at Emily’s decisions to establish instructional
routines. These too represented decisions rooted in a technical image of teachers
work -- but also ones which broadened this conceptualization.

Decisions to Establish Routines: Emily as Thinking Technician

Emily established several sets of routines in her classroom. These included

routines for focus lessons, silent writing, conferencing and publishing children’s

writing efforts. As I observed Emily’s establishment of instructional routines in

50
her classroom, I noted that these represented sets of decisions that were guided

by process writing theory -- but also moved beyond purely technical
implementation alone. Here Emily’ s decision-making suggests the power of
teacher as technician models for helping us understand teacher decisions. As
with the off-line decisions about the classroom’s physical layout, decisions about
instructional routines reflected Emily’s reliance on theory -- process writing
theory in this case -- to guide her choices. I will use a few examples of
instructional routines that Emily established to demonstrate this: silent writing,
variations of conferences, and publishing routines.

Process writing theory urges daily writing opportunities for children.
Through the establishment and regular use of a “silent writing” time Emily
insured that children would spend some time strictly on writing. Occasionally
Emily began the writing time this way, but most frequently this silent writing time
followed the day’ 8 focus lessons. Emily described this as a time for “...new
writing, not illustrating, not editing, new writing” (observation, 3/22/95).
Typically Emily announced that they were to begin silent writing. The children
then moved around the room and began writing. Often Emily would turn on
quiet background music during this time.

After silent writing time Emily would generally announce that it was time
for her to do conferences. As Emily established routines for conferences there
were a few variations. For example, during the eight fall observations, Emily
chose to conduct whole class conferences on four days. Emily called these
conferences “Memorable and More” -- a technique she said that she took
“directly from Ruth Nathan” (interview, 2/15/95). Students went to the back

comer and one sat in the author’s chair. The student author read her/his story

 

51
aloud while the class listened. Afterwards the class and Emily told the author

what they enjoyed about the story -- what was “memorable.” Emily wrote down
their comments on a sticky note. Next Emily asked the child to read the story
again. Afterwards Emily and the class told him/her what they wanted to know
“more” about. Emily also wrote down these questions on the sticky notes. She
gave the notes to the author as things to think about in editing and revising the
story.

Emily also established'a routine of holding individual teacher/ student
conferences. These varied in length and focus. Emily broke them into two
categories: “content or a skill.” I asked her to clarify her ways of distinguishing
these types:

Emily: So it’s kind of hard to separate. But typically when I say skill I’m

talking about these things: complete sentences, punctuation, spelling.

That’s typically, when I say skill, what I’m talking about.

Tony: And content is, words?

Emily: With the words and the way they put the words together and the

ideas they brought into the story and how sophisticated it was.

(interview, 5/ 16/95)

On occasion she also referred to these conferences as “revision” or “editing.”
When talking about these categories, Emily often used words interchangeably.
For example, she often used such words as “editing”, “skills” and “mechanics”
to represent nearly the same things.

Emily routinely began conferences by calling up students she needed to
meet with -- those who had placed their drafts and journey sheets in her
conferencing basket. Conferences typically involved Emily holding and reading

over the student’s text. Using a marker she frequently marked items for the

student to correct later. Occasionally she had a student read their story.

52
Afterwards she talked about such things as their title and the sequence of events

in the story. She listed these items on the top or back of their forms. Depending
on her assessment of their written work and its progress, Emily either sent them
back to their seats to do further editing of mechanics or revisions of content.
Occasionally Emily decided that students were finished and she scheduled them
to go to the school’s Publishing Center to have their book typed up and
illustrated. I note here that holding conferences was an important routine that
Emily established.

I observed two other variations on this basic conference format. On two
consecutive days Emily did small group conferences where five students would
discuss the work of one group member. She organized this in the same fashion as
the whole class “memorable and more” sessions discussed earlier. I had
mentioned to Emily that I use small group conferences in my own classroom. She
decided to try them for the first time. On one other occasion Emily used the
conference time for a whole class conference to help one student determine a title
for his poetry book.

While Emily conferred with individual students or small groups, she
allowed the other students to work quietly with partners on their writing efforts.
Their activities were guided by the steps of the process which Emily listed on a
“journey sheet.” This “journey sheet” contained the steps that Emily expected
students to complete as they prepared writing for publishing. In addition to
participating in individual conferences with Emily, students were also expected to
use their time to brainstorm for ideas/topics, write a draft, conference with peers
for revision of content, edit, conference with a peer for editing, or make a dummy

book (journey sheet). Emily allowed them to do illustrations when they were

53
finishing a dummy book for the Publishing Center. Students were familiar with

these routines and I observed them following them throughout the study.

As the above examples demonstrate, Emily’s establishment of routines in
her classroom shows that her decisions were guided rather directly by a theory
she consciously embraced, process writing theory. They also represent an image
of teacher thinking and expertise held in the “teacher as thinking technician”
model I outlined in chapter two. As such, Emily’s choices to establish these
particular routines were off-line, thoughtful responses to the potential dilemmas of
managing time and roles in classroom settings -- as she made efforts to establish a
process writing approach to instruction.

I turn now to the decisions Emily made in on-line interactions with
students as she enacted the established routines in her classroom. I will show that
these were guided by something other than conscious implementation of a
theory. Since they do not reflect technical reliance on process writing theory,
they help us to see what Emily paid attention to in these interactions.

Emily’s Decisions About Structuring
Interactions with Students

During my observations, Emily’s on-line interactions with her students
occurred primarily during focus lessons and individual teacher/student
conferences. While process writing theory may account for how Emily decided
that developing these particular routines was worth her effort, the data from
observations of, and interviews around, these events in Emily’s classroom
showed that Emily’s decision-making during the enacting of the routines was not

directed by process writing theory. In this section I will look more closely at the

54
decision—making that Emily made during focus lessons and individual

teacher/student conferences.

Decisions: Making Focus Lessons a Place for “Direct Teaching”

As indicated earlier, the daily process writing activities often began with a
focus lesson. Emily’s choices for the subject of these lessons varied. Ten of the
focus lessons I observed centered on skills used in writing. Of these, five dealt
with issues of grammar (verbs, proper nouns, etc.). Three dealt with issues of
mechanics (punctuation, hyphenating, etc.). One was on spelling and one was a
brief discussion of topic sentences and paragraphing. The following is an
example of a skills focus lesson that emphasized parts of a sentence. I note here
that this italicized vignette, as well as all those that follow, are reconstructed from
my fieldnotes.

Emily begins by handing out English books. She tells the students
that they will be using them today and then keeping them in their desks.
She talks for a moment about the book. She explains that it contains
many things they’ve already done. She shows pages with clusters and
tells them about how the book uses the writing process. She pages
through the book to show where these things are. She explains that the
book will be used as a reference tool. She tells them to look at the table
of contents and page through the rest of the book. Emily then speaks
briefly about the rest of the book’s features. As they finish this Emily
asks, “What exactly goes into a sentence?” She goes on to suggest that
they have all made drafts and that these contain sentences. She directs
them back to the table of contents and asks where they think they ’11 be
starting today. The students do not respond to her question. Emily then
directs their attention to the section entitled, “Language and Usage: The
Sentence” They turn to page 14 - which is called, “What is a Sentence?”

Emily goes through the definition of a sentence listed at the top of
the page. Emily says that a sentence must have a “who or what” and tell
what it “does. I note here that the actual definition said it must also
“tell what it is or what happens. ” Emily did not acknowledge the “is ”
part -- something that caused problems later in the lesson. Next they go
through some sample sentences and fragments together to see if they
contain both parts of a sentence. Emily demonstrates with the first
sentence and then has the students try to work out a few sentences
together. After a short time Emily tells them that you can often tell if it’s
not a sentence because it doesn’t “sound right.”

 

55

Emily writes some sentences and fragments on the overhead. They
go through several of these together - deciding whether or not it is a
complete sentence or if it is missing something. For example, she writes
“Pet shops are busy places.” She says that “pet shops” is “the what”
and they determine that it is a complete sentence. She writes “Can hear
a dog growl. ” She asks how many of the students think this is a complete
sentence. No one raises their hand. They talk about the sentence and
decide that it is missing “the who. ” They continue on in this manner for
ten more sentences. Emily then summarizes the lesson by telling them
that all of the complete sentences have who or what and what happens
in them.

Emily tells them that for homework that night they will be doing
the same thing that they just did. She gives everyone a piece of paper
and reminds them about how to put their heading on it. She tells them to
pick out two sentences from the drafts they’ve written. These can be
either complete or incomplete. She tells them to use proper
capitalization and punctuation so that it won ’t give this away. They are
to write the sentences on their paper and give them to her. She’ll use it to
generate a homework sheet. After they are finished they can begin
working on their drafts. (observation, 9/19/95)

Notice that the decisions that guided the deployment of this focus lesson
could not be based in process writing theory. If process writing theory were
guiding this lesson, several of Emily’s choices would have been different.
Children’s own writing efforts would have been used as the source for
instruction as well as determining instructional needs (Nathan, Temple, F.,

J untunen, Temple, C., 1989). Also, the focus would have more likely been on the
content of writing over a traditional skills based lesson (Graves, 1983).
Additionally, the lesson would have encouraged less focus on traditional teacher-
centered and led instruction (Calkins, 1986). As Emily enacted this lesson, it is
clear that something other than process writing theory guided her moves --
something of value and importance to her.

Eight of the focus lessons I observed focused on issues of the content of
children’s writing. Of those, four dealt with helping the children generate ideas

for topics. Emily used two to have children share their writing efforts with the

56
class and for the class to give them feedback. One was a conference on two

different works by individual students. The other was a “memorable and more

9

session.’ One focus lesson was a class activity in clustering ideas for writing

and one was an activity in which they brainstormed other words to use instead of
“said.” One such lesson occurred in February:

Emily begins the focus lesson today by telling them to take out their
topic sheet -- a form entitled: “Writing ideas for _. ” The form has
several blank and numbered lines for students to write in ideas. One
student responds by saying something like, “I hardly ever use that!”
Emily says, “Don ’t tell me that. That ’s just what I want to hear.” She
says that the reason they are doing this lesson is because some of them
are having difficulty coming up with ideas in their writing. She also half
laughingly says that some people’s stories are just a little “dull.” “Your
goal today is to come up with one good idea.” She says that some
people may come up with more. Emily tells them to write their ideas
down on their sheet as they talk together. She reminds them that about a
third of the class have a folder called “Topics for fiee writing” and
others have one called “Punctuation Pockets.” They were purchased by
the fourth grade teachers to serve as a resource. One talks about and
gives ideas for topics, another helps them to work on punctuation. She
mentions that it even has information on hyphenating. She suggests
that they share and go to each other to get the information they need.
Next she discusses (as a reminder) that during their 10 minute silent
writing time, they can just write about anything. “Sometimes you just
write to write.... You don’t have to write to publish. ” You can use those
topics listed in the folder to just write for ten minutes.

Emily pulls out a large box and then shows them the new books
from a recent book order. The first books she shows them are from a
series called Goosebumps . The class oohs and ahhs in appreciation and
excitement. She then asks if any of them have used these books to write
a story of their own. She explains that it doesn’t have to be as long as
this text. The idea is to get ideas for your own writing from another
author. She adds that “...In real life you couldn’t just write a story called
Goosebumps.” She then begins a brief discussion by asking what they
like about these stories. They respond with things like: It’s scary.” “It’s
not really long because the words are big.” “It has a collection of
stories -- it ’s a series.”

Next Emily pulls out a book on the “The Boxcar Children. ” She
suggests that you could take them and put them in Hillside. “Think
about ways to take your favorite characters and make them your own.”
Next she talks about a book called “Half Magic”-- a story about how
only half of a wish comes true. “You can imagine what might happen.”
She then compares it to a Chris VanAllsburg book called Jumanji. She
suggests that they could write their own book about wishes. A few of the

 

57

students write down ideas as they continue talking. She mentions that a
lot of them liked the next book. She tells them to get silly like this book
did: “Get silly, like The Christmas Tree that Ate my Mother. ” She talks
about having fun with their stories. She says the “Sometimes you go to
see movies you like. Maybe take that character and put them in a new
situation.” One boy talks about the movie “Richie Rich ”—- which is also
in book form. Emily suggests that they could also write a review of the
movie and share it with their class. Then Emily talks about how it could
be a “content area ”--true stories, like the ones on boats and fishing that
were recently done and shared with the class. There is a short
discussion of other examples of “content stories” Rick is doing one on
airplanes and Emily says that’s an example of what she means. This
discussion is followed by Emily showing them books on sports,
earthquakes and volcanoes. She tells them to “think about things you
could do research on. ” She says that they may find this easier now that
they’ve done their country reports. Next Emily shows a book on
exploring energy and talks about illustrations.

Emily stops and tells them that, at their tables, she wants them to
“discuss some ideas you have on your list and some new ideas you got
fiom today. Everyone ’5 job is to get at least one new idea.” They are to
add these ideas to their topic sheet. The groups of students begin
working on this task right away.

Emily shows several other books that will go on the shelf. She
talks about each.. Then she tells them that they don’t have a lot of time
for writing today, but she wants to try to get in at least 10 minutes of
silent writing time. She turns on soft guitar music. Kids move around
the room and begin writing. (observation, 2/8/95)

Again, note that the decisions that guided the deployment of this focus
lesson routine were not guided solely by process writing theory. If process
writing theory were directing these moves you would again see less focus on
such traditional teacher-centered and led instruction (Calkins, 1986). This lesson
also represented the range of content choices that Emily addressed. If process
writing theory were directing these decisions you would see a range of content
focus that would address such issues as theme, point of view, etc. (Calkins, 1991).
That Emily did not enact process writing theory this way did not indicate that she
was doing it incorrectly. Rather, it suggested that her attention during enactment

was directed to something else.

58
The remaining six focus lessons I classified as being about classroom

procedures. For example, Emily spent one lesson talking about the proper way to
fill out the daily writing logs that she had just instituted as a means of controlling
“off task” behaviors during writing time. All of the focus lessons were teacher
led, with varying levels of student involvement.

Emily’s choice to begin many of her classroom writing times with focus
lessons made it clear that she valued them. In fact, Emily referred to focus lessons
as the place where she chose to do “direct teaching”:

Well, I do direct teaching with those focus lessons with the whole group. I

mean, I teach them how to use quotes, I teach them, how do you use

commas in a series. I teach them -- no, it would not be as effective. I’d have
to have mini- groups or I’d have, you have to teach that stuff to them.

They don’t just absorb it by osmosis or by seeing you do it (Right). You

know I could probably, I know a lot of teachers do this and I used to do it.

Probably my first two years of teaching I did it, where you put up the

overhead and you write with them and then they can read what you’re

writing. (Oh) And it’s a really good way to model skills too, and your
thought processes. I think you could do that and they would catch on. Oh,
that’s how she uses quotes, but there are going to be kids out there who
don’t get it (Right). Well why did she put that comma there? I wonder
why that? Why didn’t she capitalize that word? Why isn’t there a period
there? And so I think you’ve got to do some direct instruction of some of

those skills. (interview, 3/23/95)

Emily viewed “direct teaching” as the way to insure that the whole class
“get it.” This decision demonstrated another point where her decisions could not
have been directed by process writing theory. This theory places a heavy
emphasis on modeling over telling (Nathan, et al.; 1989; Graves, 1983). Such
modeling is typically confined to individual teacher/student conferences -- or
occasional lessons that use individually determined needs (sometimes shared by a

small number of students). If Emily valued large group and teacher-centered and

led instruction that did not revolve around modeling, I knew that there had to be

59
a sensible reasons for that. As I continued to metaphorically peel the layers from

her decision-making interactions, I began to see more clearly how she was
addressing something other than process writing theory. This became even more
evident in individual conferences that relied heavily on teacher/student
interactions.

Conferences

 

When not teaching focus lessons, Emily often conducted individual
teacher/student conferences -- an almost daily routine in the winter observation
period.

Using Emily’ 3 definition for what counted as a content/revision
conference and what counted as a skill/editing conference, it was hard to
categorize conferences as exactly one or the other. Some of the conferences had
features of both, but quite often this meant content was briefly addressed, while
the rest of the conference focused on editing. Of the seventy-one conferences
observed, forty-six dealt with skills/editing functions. Of those, Emily dedicated
thirty-two to skills/editing only. In ten others she focused primarily on
skills/editing. This is noteworthy because Emily’s decisions to focus on skills so
often indicated that she viewed skills/editing as a priority.

An editing conference with Aaron illustrates Emily’ s focus on mechanics:

Aaron comes up to go over his draft of a story entitled “My Family Goes

to Space.” It is clear that some editing has already occurred, as there

are several words circled and other marks on the paper. Emily tells him
that she will just go ahead and correct things that he did not catch while
doing his own editing. She does so as she looks through the story. For
example, the “G” in the title needed to be capitalized. She asks if alien
is going to be a name and then explains that if it is, it needs to be
capitalized. She finds other things that have not been marked for
editing and says “I must have been asleep when I was editing that day.”

He then reads the story and she points out things as she corrects them.
She tells him that he is finally ready to make a dummy book. Emily gives

60

him the forms he needs to fill out for his dummy book and Aaron goes
back to his seat. (observation, 2/10/95)

Emily’s decisions in this conference were not led by process writing
theory. If they had been you would have seen Aaron providing more of the
leadership for the direction of the conference -- explaining his own needs. There
might have been more focus on content. Aaron would have been expected to
make his own corrections with Emily’s assistance. One skill would have been
focused on during the editing and this would have been used to guide him to
new understandings of skills via his own writing (Calkins, 1986). Again, Emily’s
decisions to act otherwise represent her reasonable attention to other factors
during these interactions.

Emily focused sixteen conferences solely on content/revision. In one
other conference it was the major focus. Given the large number of conferences
observed, this small number dedicated primarily to content indicated that in
Emily’ s enactment of this routine she chose to place emphasis on other areas.
This was noteworthy given the heavy focus on writing content in process writing
theory (Graves, 1983). This observation of a conference Emily had with Missy is
a good example of a content/revision conference:

Missy has written a drafi of a story about her family. Emily talks
with her about ways to vary her words and sentences. For example, each
sentence seems to begin with things like “me and my mom”, “me and my
dad ”, etc. Emily asks her, “What are some things you haven’t told me
about your family? ” Missy responds with “Descriptions” Emily says
“yes” and they talk about how Missy might want to talk about what her
family members look like. Emily says that she knows what Missy ’s mom
looks like, but not her dad. Emily also suggests that she think about not
listing things in separate sentences, like the places she goes shopping.
She says to combine things and/or to list them in one sentence and use
commas to separate things. Missy talks about the time she was the only
person in her family to catch a bass and the time her mother fell into the
water -- and laughed about it. Emily tells her that these stories would
make wonderful additions to her story and that the latter story also tells

61
her that her mother must have a sense of humor. Emily writes brief

sentences about these two stories on Missy’s paper. She tells Missy that

she can go write the parts she wants to add and then they can “cut and

paste” them together, so that she doesn’t have to write the whole thing

over again. (observation, 2/8/95)

In this interaction Emily did focus on a content issue -- something
emphasized in process writing theory. Other decisions were rooted in something
other than such theory. If this on-line decision-making were guided by theory
you would have seen Missy initiating the discussion around her needs as a writer
for this text -— and Emily following that lead (Graves, 1983).

As with focus lessons, Emily chose to use these conferences as
opportunities for “direct instruction” too, but she stated that they were more

limited than the focus lessons because they only reached individual students:

Tony: And that, that’s different than in the conference? (Um-hmm) You
don’t see that as direct instruction?

Emily: Well, I do, but, I might do it with one child and nobody else, so...

Tony: I was curious about that.

Emily: Actually the conference lessons are probably the most valuable. to

those kids because it’s in the context of their own writing and their editing

and their fixing up and it shows them right then and there why they need

to know how to do it (right), so it’s probably the most valuable to them,

but it’s not going to help the rest of the class, so.

(interview, 3/23/95)

In talking about these conferences Emily said that she saw them as being
“most valuable” to her students. She noted the value of working with students
in the context of their own writing efforts -- something process writing theory
also emphasizes and values. However, Emily also appeared to recognize that

these conferences were “not going to help the rest of the class”-- only

individuals.

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As mentioned earlier, when Emily finished focus lessons, she chose to make

a record of what skills she covered with each student. She did not do this with
individual teacher/ student conferences. In fact, she did not seem to have any
kind of systematic record keeping device for what she worked on with individual
students. Her views on the value of such conferences are noteworthy in that they
again suggest that as she thought about the deployment of routines in her
classroom, her attention was not guided solely by process writing theory. This
theory places great value on conferences as a pivotal point for interactions
around writing text (Calkins, 1991). That Emily placed less value on them
demonstrated her attention to other important factors as she developed and
enacted classroom routines.

As Emily designed her classroom and developed routines for writing
instruction, her attention to process writing theory to guide her decisions was
clearly visible. As she enacted these routines, theory failed to be strong enough
to capture Emily’s attention in on-line interactions. It was clear that Emily’ S
attention was directed elsewhere. Next I turn my attention to what did deserve
her attention during these uncertainty filled moments.

On-line Decisions During Individual Conferences:
Beginning To See What Emily Saw

During Emily’s interactions with students in individual student/teacher
conferences, she demonstrated moves that resulted from on-line decision-making
in the midst of uncertainty. These decisions were not technical in nature. Rather
they represented her attention to something other than process writing theory.
This became most clear to me as I began to examine her decision-making in

conferences with individual children. To illustrate this, I will discuss her on-line

63
decision-making in interactions with three children. These will set the stage for

my discussion of what did get Emily’s attention in the next chapter.
Jenna: The Fat Penguin Story

Jenna was very thin and one of the tallest girls in Emily Grew’s classroom.
She had long brown hair that she pulled back into a ponytail. She wore large
brown glasses. Like most of the children in this class, she often dressed very
casually in jeans and sweatshirts. Jenna was talkative with her peers in small
groups and sometimes demonstrated an almost hyperactive enthusiasm. In the
larger setting of the classroom, she was quiet and did not often offer her input.

Jenna wrote a story that became the subject of a number of conferences
with Emily. She called this story “All About the Fat Penguin.”

There was a penguin he lived at the

North Pole. There were more penguin there.

Their names were Puffy, Puffball, Perky.

There was just one little penguin

his name was plumbly the reason

his name was plumbly is that he was a fat penguin.
He could not get any of his clothes

on because he got even fater every

day. He ant just about all the fish in two mimtes. All the
other penguins did not like him because

he was fat and uglay.

The other penguins did not let

him do any of the games likes

the game of slide and tag. How the

game went is that two penguins were it. The rest of then
had to slide down the hill and if they got tag then
they had to be it. With the rest of

them. Then something change one day is

that plumbly got skin and got cuter

because he wore better clouthes. Then

all the other penguins liked him.

They let him ply the games but

one thing he had to do was to be it when

ever they played a game. But plumbly

did not care he just wanted to play

with the other penguins. The other

64

reson they liked plumbly is that he
did not eat all the fish anymore.

I received a copy of this story from Emily a number of days after the
conferences on it. I do not know what kinds of changes Jenna made to it in the
interlude. It does appear that she erased the ending paragraph that Emily refers
to in the conference below. Although I can not be certain, it appears that no
other changes were made.

Following the usual classroom procedure, Jenna had placed her story in
Emily’ s basket -- indicating that she was ready for a teacher conference. The first
conference began near the end of process writing time for the day:

Emily calls Jenna up to the conferencing table. She begins by
telling Jenna that they won ’t have time to finish discussing her story
during this conferencing session, but they will get started. Emily asks
her to read her story, entitled “All About the Fat Penguin.” Emily puts
down her pen and lets Jenna read. As Jenna reads, Emily turns the
pages of the story. As the story is finished Emily asks Jenna where she
got the idea for it and then mentions that it reminds her of the story
Elmer the Elephant. Next Emily turns over Jenna’s orange conferencing
sheet and asks, “Who are your characters? ” Jenna lists off four, “Puffy,
Pufiball, Perky, and Plumbly”-- which Emily writes on the back of the
form. She then asks for the setting. Jenna says it is the “North Pole.”
Emily records this on the conferencing sheet. Emily asks Jenna to tell
her what the problem in the story is. Jenna says that it’s that the
penguins don’t get enough fish to eat. Emily says she thinks the main
problem is that one of the penguins is left alone and not played with
because he is fat. She then asks Jenna, “What do you want it to be?”
Jenna repeats her earlier statement and Emily records, “Other penguins
didn’t get enough fish. ” Emily asks Jenna to think about the how this
problem will be solved. This Emily again records on the back of the
conferencing sheet: “They were going to find another place to go for
fish.” Since it is time for the class to get ready for lunch, Emily tells
Jenna that they will have to finish tomorrow. She ends by saying that
the problem and the solution in the story do not go together and that
this was something she noticed about halfway through the story. Jenna
goes back to her seat and Emily tells the class to line up for lunch.
(observation, 2/20/95)

This conference was marked by several choices and moves initiated by

Emily. At the beginning of this conference Emily asked Jenna to read the story.

65
Emily laid down her marking pen and simply turned the pages for her. As Jenna

finished, Emily asked about where the idea for the story came from. As soon as
this was done, Emily assumed her usual role. She picked up her pen and began
directing the action by asking about the characters and setting. Emily then
turned the discussion to the “problem” in the story. Emily indicated that she did
not see congruence there and she wanted Jenna to think about this before they
met again. The conference ended.

A few days later Emily called Jenna up to the conferencing table again. In
this conference, under Emily’ s direction, they returned to the story’ s problem-—
only this time Emily shifted the focus to the “lesson” the problem projected.

Emily calls Jenna up for a conference to continue their earlier
discussion of her story “All About the Fat Penguin.” They spend a few
moments recapping their earlier discussion of this story. The
conversation turns to the problem in the story. Jenna suggests that it is
' that the penguin is ugly and fat and no one wants to be around him.
Emily says that she will leave it up to Jenna, but that it bothers her that
they don ’t like him when he is fat, but then do like him just because he
gets skinny. She says that she doesn’t see a lesson in the story and asks
Jenna if there is a lesson she has in mind. She goes on to say, “I guess I
just feel like something ’5 missing.” Jenna ’3 face begins to get red and
she looks like she is about to begin crying. She tells Emily that she no
longer wants to publish this story. Emily says that she was interested
enough in the story to bring it to her for publishing and she asks if she
just doesn ’t like her comments about it. Jenna says “no.” There are a
few moments of silence as Emily looks through the story. Finally, Emily
suggests that maybe they should just work on the last paragraph or so at
the end of the story. She says that the rest of the story makes sense until
this point -- when it seems like she is starting a new story. Emily suggests
that she tie it into the rest of the story. Emily suggests that Jenna work
with Pamela on this ending. Jenna says “no.” Emily then suggests that
she work with either David or Greg. Jenna selects Greg. Emily calls him
over to the table, explains what ’s being asked of him, and he agrees to
help Jenna with her ending. Jenna and Greg go over to their seats and
begin working. (observation, 2/24/95)

When Emily returned to the “problem” in this story, she shifted the focus.

In the earlier conference the problem was a lack of congruence. In the second

66

conference Emily talked about the problem as being representative of a lesson
that she did not like. Jenna said little and eventually became visibly upset. Her
face began to redden and she looked as if she was ready to cry. After the few
moments of silence, Emily dropped the topic altogether and moved to the last
paragraph in the story. Then Emily assigned Jenna to work with someone else.
Immediately after the conference Emily told me that if it looked as if she was
“fumbling” during this conference, it was just because she was just trying to
figure out what to do. She went on to say that she did not like the fact that the
story was about a fat penguin whom nobody likes until he gets skinny
(observation, 2/24/95). In a follow up interview (3/8/95) she reinforced this:

Tony: So what did you think the moral was to her story?

Emily: She didn’t really have one. That was the problem. (It just

bothered.) Everyone accepted that this penguin was not, was what? Fat?

And then became thin and now everybody liked him and that was okay.

And that just kind of bothered me, I guess, so, because, not that they have

to teach each other lessons in here through their stories, but, I don’t know,

it just doesn’t seem like you read books that way.

Tony: Isn’t there a lesson in this story though? When I heard you say that

to me the lesson that I thought was in the story was, people like people

who are thin, not people who are fat.(uh-hun, uh-hun, uh-hun) And I

thought that’s what you were reacting to. That that was the lesson and

you didn’t like that.

Emily: Is that how I told it to her?

Tony: No. You said this to me afterwards. After she left. (Oh) You said

something about, I just don’t like that. I can’t quote you because I don’t

remember.

Emily: 1 don’t, I guess you can look at it that way too. That that’s the

lesson she is trying to present. And again, is it right for me to say , that’s

not a good lesson to teach kids in here? I mean, I don’t think it is, but

that’s what’s really hard to draw a line..

Tony: But is that what you were struggling with? (Yah)

67

Emily: That’s the whole thing of you should be thin to be pretty. You
know, that really bothers me, that whole issue. And I think there are a lot
of kids in here who are very sensitive to that too, like Tim and Sherri and
James. But you know, I guess in a lot of ways when I think of that I
think that people in our audience might be offended by that, so then it is
okay for me to, it’ s really a hard line to draw.

Faced with a lesson she did not approve of, Emily tried to get Jenna to
change her story. Talking about this decision Emily referred to her role as being
that of the class “publisher”:

Emily: I don’t know. I don’t know if that’s really right. I always take it
back to, well I’m the publisher in here and I’m the one who approves, but
there was nothing wrong with her story really. So that’s why I think I
started backing off. I thought, “Okay, if she’s not receptive it’s not really
that big of a deal. She doesn’t really get it, what I’m trying to tell her
anyways,” and she had really blocked me out so I wasn’t going to get
anywhere. “All right, it’ s not going to kill me to let her publish her story.”
It just wasn’t a good story and I look at stories that are like that, people
don’t write books about, “Oh she’s not pretty and now she is and
everybody likes her.” They don’t write books realistically that way
because morally it’s just not a nice thing to write about, I guess. Right? I
mean, I guess I’m trying to figure out why that would bother me, but
that’s why. Because we don’t just read, it’s always got a moral to it or a
lesson to it or, “Oh they were rotten anyways so that’s why they did
that.” (interview, 3/8/95)

Later, in that same interview Emily made a reference to the role of “magazine
editor” as a model for her stance on the issue of Jenna’s lesson:

Well, you kind of look at your audience. And I look at, well a

magazine editor would say to that, “I don’t want to send that

message to my readers.” And because their audience is typically their

classmates, that’s kind of who I think about when we’re editing. (That’s

interesting) I couldn’t even explain that to Jenna.

Having given herself the models of a publisher and a magazine editor for
her role in her interaction with Jenna, Emily used them to explain her rationale for

her stance in the conferences with Jenna. Her job was to insure the fact that

lessons met with her understandings about what the audience (class) would be

68
interested in or comfortable with. She could direct and even censor -- given the

fact that she alone approved what could be published. However, when Jenna’s
silence and emotional upset indicated that she was “not receptive," Emily took a
different route. She directed the attention away from the story “lesson” and to a
paragraph at the end. Eventually she asked another student to work with Jenna
on this story ending.

When Emily talked about the conferences around Jenna’s penguin story,
she repeatedly referred to Jenna as “sensitive.” Although she did not define her
use of this term, I took it to mean that she thought Jenna could be offended
and/or hurt easily:

...She’s very sensitive though. I mean, at the beginning of the school year

her mom called me and said that Jenna had heard I was very strict and she

was really scared to come to fourth grade. And all year I keep that in

mind with her because little things I say or do can really effect her. She’s

really sensitive, so with her work I try to be really careful (inaudible). With

that conference I remember that I was tiptoeing around the whole issue,

so...” (interview, 3/8/95)

When Jenna became upset during the conference, Emily changed her
actions and her posture. The data suggest that Emily was then guided by her
perceptions of Jenna as a sensitive child and sensitive children needed to be dealt
with differently.

Shortly after the second conference Emily gave me a stack of writing
samples that I had requested for copying. On the list of name’s attached to them
was Jenna’s. Next to it was an arrow pointing to the words “decided not to

publish.” Next to this Emily had made a drawing of an unhappy face
(observation, 3/8/95).

69
About two weeks later Emily called Jenna up to the conferencing table for

a conference on a different story, entitled “All About My Family.”

Jenna comes up to the conferencing table to discuss her draft of a story
entitled “All About My Family.” They talk about how this draft is an old
story -- one Jenna wrote long ago. Emily says, “Why don’t you read and
I’ll do some fixing up while you read.” Jenna begins to read the story. As
she does this, Emily begins making corrections on the draft. She corrects
spelling errors (rather than just circling them), changes capitalization,
and reorganizes sentences. Most of the corrections are made without
any comment by Emily -- such as when Emily comes across the word
“Daycare” and changes the letter D to a lower case one. As they
continue through the story Emily occasionally asks a few clarifying
questions, like what the names of kids in Jenna’s family are. As Jenna
finishes reading, Emily tells her that her draft is in pretty good shape
and she has the choice of taking this draft to the publishing center or
making a new dummy book, since she had thrown away the dummy book
she’d made earlier. Jenna decides that she will bring this draft to the
publishing center. She then gets up and the conference ends.
(observation, 3/8/95)

Following closely on the heels of the penguin story conference, this third
conference was a kind of continuation of it and Emily later talked about them in
relation to each other. In this conference Emily continued to direct the action,
but she decided not to follow the routines I had observed repeatedly in other
conferences. Emily did not ask Jenna to correct spelling or other errors. Emily did
all of the editing corrections. At the end she offered to let Jenna bring her draft to
the publishing center, without having to make a dummy book. (Jenna had made
a dummy book earlier and apparently lost it.) I asked Emily about these
departures from her well-established routines:

Emily:...I think she’s just a kid who struggles academically. I mean she’s

probably more extreme than a lot of kids in here would be with writing.

Most kids that come over to conference, it’s pretty casual, say, “okay

what are we going to do here?” I think to her it was more of a threatened

situation because that’s just how she makes everything. So today, when I

said, “Okay, let’s just go through and fix it up,” I kind of felt like she got
relieved.

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Tony: Is that why you did it? I wondered that. You went through...
Emily: Oh, there was no way I was going to make her think we were
going to go work on this story some more. There was no way (So in some
ways this her reaction.) and I even gave her the choice of the dummy
book or the draft (Yah, I noticed that) just because I just want her to feel
good about writing right now. I don’t want her to think I’m going to

judge every story. Even though I do judge every story, I want her to feel
more comfortable with writing right now.

Tony: I wondered if that’s what you did because I was noticing that
that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you go through and correct everything
and then give somebody an option. I just thought, there’s more to this
than what meets, and that’s what I thought was probably the case. It
makes a lot of sense.

Emily: Yah, it does. Because, if I had made her do more work on that

her first thought would have been, “Well geez, I already made the dummy

book. I could have just taken that in.” And second of all, she might not

write very well the rest of the year for me. So I’ll give in on this story and
the next one I conference with. Maybe what I’ll do is make a list of
questions or I don’t know. Hopefully her next story will be a little more

workable. (interview, 3/8/95).

Emily linked her decisions about conferencing to her desire to make this
“sensitive” child “feel good about writing right now.” The quality of the text
itself was no longer the focus of her efforts. What mattered most was that she
“feel more comfortable.” In order to accomplish those goals Emily was willing to
abandon her typical routines (having kids correct spelling errors, etc.).

Timothy: “The Big Brown - A True Story Not”

When scanning Emily Grew’ s classroom, Tim did not stand out from the
other boys. By comparison with the group he was of average height, had a
stocky build and was somewhat overweight. His typically casual attire included
blue jeans, a shirt, sweatshirt and tennis shoes -- not unlike that worn by most of

his classmates. His brown hair was cut above the ears and hung straight down to

just above his dark eyes. In general he seemed quiet and friendly -- and

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sometimes a bit distracted. Tim liked to go fishing and that was the subject of

many of his writing efforts.

One such effort was a fictional story about a large trout called, “The Big
Brown.” This story became the subject of a brief conference interaction --
focused primarily around the subtitle Tim had listed at the top of the page: “A
True Story Not.” I have elected not to include his entire story here because it is
not an essential part of the interaction Emily had with him. However, the entire
story can be found in Appendix C.

Emily calls Tim up for a conference on the draft of his story
called, “The Big Brown - Not. ” Emily puts the story in front of her and
Tim sits ofl to her left. Emily looks at the draft for a few minutes and
then says that it must have been conferenced earlier with Mrs. Simon,
her student teacher because the writing on it doesn’t look like her own.
Next they talk about the title of the story. Emily asks, “Is it the Big Brown
Trout?” She goes on to say that her first thought upon reading it was,
“The Big Brown what?” Tim nods his head in agreement with her
suggestion of “The Big Brown Trout, " but Emily says, “No, what do you
want? ” She then ojfers a few possibilities: “The Big Brown Fish”, “The
Big Brown Trout”, or “The Big Brown ..... ” Tim selects “The Big Brown
Trout. ” Next Emily looks at his subtitle, which is “A true story - Not.”
She asks, “Do you want it ‘A True Story?’ Is it a true story?” Tim says,
“No. It’s to make them think it is.” Emily responds with “What if you
put, ‘A Not So True Story’ instead of ‘A True Story - Not? She goes on
to say, “I have a thing about that (referring to the use of “not” ) when
you put it in stories.” Tim shrugs and says “Okay.” Emily then makes the
changes with her pen and they go on to the rest of the story.
(video/observation, 2/13/95)

Two days later I spoke with Emily about this interaction around Tim’ s title
(interview, 2/15/95):

Tony: Tell me more about that part.

Emily: You know how kids do that “not” thing.

Tony: Yeh, they write “not” after something meaning it’s the opposite.

Emily: It’ 8 come from, I don’t know who, some character on TV. I don’t
know who. It’s been a few years now.

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Tony: The Simpsons?

Emily: I just don’t like it. I just don’t. If they do it in class, I don’t say
anything, but I don’t want it in their writing. It’s slang. It’s how I look at
it. I don’t let them use it in their writing. And maybe that’s just a pet
peeve. Maybe some people would say well that would show them that at
one time that’ s what was going on in the world if they use it in their
writing. If they want to use it in their journals or sometimes I’ll write it on
answers on papers or whatever. I’m not going to harp on it then. But if
it’s a published story I don’t want it in there.

Tony: I’m curious about that, though, why?

Emily: I don’t know. It just doesn’t belong there. I mean it’s just, I guess
to me it’s just like using “ain’ t. " It’s just like that.

Using “Not” to indicate that the story was not true wasn’t acceptable to
Emily. She likened it to using “ain’t” -- which was also apparently a slang word
that they could not use in published works. As she continued to talk about this
incident, she attributed her stance and decision at least partially to the fact that
she personally did not like the use of this word.

Emily: ...1 could see the other side of this though. If somebody said that’s
how he’s talking now, so let it go, let it be in there. That’s just my personal
opinion. And I do tell the kids there are some teachers who might let you
write your stuff -- and some teachers who might let you use your slang in
your stories. And when you get to high school you might find that you’ll
be able to write things that you’ve never been able to write in elementary.
But I’m the editor in this room and kind of like if you were working on a
paper, the editor would say what you can and can’t publish. Well, I’m the
editor of this paper here. It’s true, I have to be able to live with whatever
is published out of my room and I don’t want parents being upset that I let
them do something that maybe they wouldn’t agree with. So I do think
parents enter into some of my decisions. And that may be what part of this
is. As a parent, if [my son] came home one day with a story that said,
“not,” I go “Awww.”

Tony: But what would it say if you saw that? I mean, what is the meaning
(Inaudible)

Emily: Idon’tknow. I just don’tlike it. Ipersonally don’t like it. You
know, it doesn’t bother me in their speech but it does bug me when they
use it in their writing.

(interview, 2/15/95)

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As she did when talking about her interaction with Jenna, Emily used the

metaphor of an “editor” to talk about her role and on-line decisions in relation to
the interaction. Emily emphasized this further when she called him up for a final
conference on his dummy book for the publishing center.

Emily looks at the final draft of Tim ’s story that is to be sent to the
Publishing Center. As usual, it is written as a dummy book. Emily then
asks Tim about his lack of illustrations. She tells him to come over to the
conferencing table so that they can discuss this. When he gets to the
table she says that his dummy book is unacceptable. She says that
“priority number one is writing it exactly as I edited it.” He apparently
still has a number of errors. She also tells him that he has only put one
day into making the dummy book. She then talks about his lack of
illustrations. She explains that sometimes she allows people to not do
illustrating, but “this is one that really lends itself to illustrations.” She
tells him that he will have to redo the dummy book. She adds that he
didn ’t show that he had planned out the pages. Tim says almost nothing
during the entire exchange. Emily is angry. Tim goes back to his seat.
(observation, 2/16/95)

Right after this interaction Emily turned to me and said that we could talk
about what happened during our interview that day. Moments later we began
the interview (2/16/95) and I began by asking about it.

Tony: What was going on with that one? (One -- a reference to the
conversation she had had with Tim during writing time moments earlier.)

Emily: Well, the dummy book. At the beginning of the year I tell them, “if
you want to publish something, you have to work at it. It’s not something
where you slap it together, get it edited and go to the publishing center.”
And at the beginning of the year we talked a lot about, when an author is
publishing something they lay it out, how they want it to look. They might
not do elaborate illustrations. They might not even do any because
someone else is going to illustrate it. But they show where they want
those illustrations to be, where they want the text to be, what text they
want on each page and we talked about how it was also so important that
if you put certain words on a page, it might not be as effective as --did you
see what he did? He just (inaudible). It was a mess. It was a mess. Well,
first of all, it needed editing all over again. And I absolutely refuse to do
that with kids.

Tony: So, do you think that he just ignored.

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Emily: Oh, he just, sometimes he just is like that. He doesn’t care. Yeah, he
just totally ignored. I don’t think he really was thinking, this is going to be
published. This is my best work . And it also really bugs me if they don’t
illustrate at this point. I guess, I have approved some that. I think like
Perry didn’t illustrate a book, but it was more of a chapter book and he
divided it into chapters and it was really a good dummy book. I don’t
know if I’ve got it in there or not. I should go see, but, I don’t know.
Some books just lend themselves to having illustrations and Tim’s was
just, his fish thing, I think, really does. You know, that’ s a whole other
issue, whether you let kids just go without illustrations or not. But, it was
just a mess. So there’s no way I’m going to accept that. I was really mad
because I had just talked to the class again about dummy books, like a
month ago...

She went on to say:

....so, I don’t feel bad at this point saying “No way, no way.” I wasn’t
even going to spend a lot of time telling him what was wrong, except that
it wasn’t edited. There were no illustrations. “You didn’t spend time
thinking about what was going to go on a page. I’m not accepting it and
that’ s that.” You know, if kids don’t like that then they don’t have to
publish it.

Tony: What will he do?

Emily: I don’t know. I don’t know what he’ll do. I’ll be surprised. I’ll
kind of watch to see what he’ s going to do and go over and if he starts to
redo, then I’ll probably offer some help. (Okay) So, I don’t know what
he’s gonna do. But we talked at the beginning of the year that publishing
requires work. And that you’re not just going to slap something together
and take it to the publishing center.

Tony: Why do you think he did that? (I don’t know) It’s obvious the he
put a lot of work into that because you conferenced with him on this
story.

Emily: He just does this sometimes. He’s a real moody kid and sometimes
he just doesn’t give a rip about the way things look. In fact, a lot of the
times he doesn’t. So, he redoes a lot of work in here. Oh, he’ll turn stuff in
that, I mean it is just illegible. It’s totally (In all different subject areas?)
scribbled out. Yeah. It’s not just process writing. He’ll bring his
homework in and it will be done in pen and (inaudible) scribbled out all
over the place and I’ll be, “I’m sorry. I’m not accepting it.” I very very
infrequently make kids redo work. I mean, it’ s gotta be pretty bad And if
they have to redo it in here it was pretty bad. He does a lot of stuff over,
so..

Tony: Are his skills low or is it something else, do you think?

 

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Emily: Um-unh, um-unh.

Tony: His skills are not low?

Emily: No, his skills are not low. He’s a bright kid. It’s just, it’s just a lot of
family stuff and I think the kids aren’t given very much positive
encouragement at home and they’re not expected to do outstanding stuff
and I think mediocre is very accepted at home. So, it’ s hard, if he comes
here and mediocre isn’t really accepted and there are times when I’m more
gentle than I was today. You know, “Tim, what’s this work? What do
you think?” But he gets pretty mad when I make him redo things, but
they’re done really well the second time.

Tony: Are they? He’ll do it well the second time?
Emily: So.
Tony: That’s frustrating.

Emily: Oh, he’s not the first kid I’ve had that’s like that. You’ve probably
had(laughing) You know what I mean? You just kind of accept it. You do
what you can do for them and you hope that having them redo some of
the work makes them, instills a little pride in them and makes them realize.
Because I always afterwards say, “Look what you did here and look what
you did here.” And I’m amazed at the difference. “What do you think
about the difference here? Could you have done that the first time instead
of three hours?” You know I always try to talk to them about it afterwards
and hopefully instill some pride in his work. But , I think a lot of that
comes from home. You know, you let kids do mediocre at home, he
probably doesn’t get any positive encouragement at home about
anything. (That’s hard.) So, when he does stuff though I do try to let him
know that I’m really pleased with it.

In this interview, Emily continued to make decisions from the perspective
of her role as classroom editor/publisher. She decided that Tim could not publish
his book because he had not followed the criteria she had established. He had
not illustrated the book. He failed to edit it as she had instructed. She said it was
a “mess.”

In the interview above, Emily also linked her perceptions of Tim to the

decisions she made. She said that he was “moody” and “just doesn’t care,”

which she attributed to low expectations from his family. As a result he had done

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poor work and needed to redo it. She cited no other factors for his unacceptable

efforts or her decisions about what to do when interacting with him.
This characterization of Tim was consistent with things she had said about
him over the length of this discussion. Emily’s descriptions of Tim reflected a
variety of attributes. She suggested that he had an “attitude problem”
(observation, 1/25/95), was “hard to motivate” (interview, 1/26/95), could be
“nasty” (interview, 1/26/95), and that he was “moody” (interview, 1/26/95).
During one interview she reflected on Tim’ s overall attitude during the school
year:
Tim. Tim is interesting because Tim goes through these periods, where I
call them like the Tim Funk. And (The Tim what? Funk?) Funk. Like a blue
funk. He kind of went through at the beginning of the year. I can’t
remember when. I can’t remember. It was after the year started because I
remember he came in pretty positive, pretty upbeat about school and then
he just goes into this slump. Then he came out of it and he’s been kind of
in one of those. Now he’s starting to come out of it again. And so his
work will probably, if he’s in a good mood and really wants to try, he’ll do
a really good job. And if he’s not you can just pull teeth and not get stuff
out of him. (interview 5/16/95)
On the other hand, Emily also referred to Tim as being “bright” (interview,
2/16/93, sensitive (interview, 2/16/95), and someone who “loves one on one”
attention (interview, 2/15/95). However her most frequent references to Tim
concerned his “moodiness,” etc. This perception of him became a factor and
guided her thinking as she made on-line decisions when interacting with him.
Theresa: Being “Receptive” -- The “Ideal Way a Conference Should Work”
Theresa was one of the shortest children in Emily Grew’s fourth grade
classroom. Her thin build was often accentuated by her choice of oversized shirts

and sweatshirts. Theresa had thin, stringy and straight brown hair that hung just

about to her shoulders. It was all cut at one length and she had a habit of

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pushing the right side behind her ear. The left side often covered much of the left

side of her face. The thin features on her face were largely overshadowed by her

glasses -— which were huge and nearly always seemed to ride about halfway

down her nose.

In March Emily and Theresa met for a conference to look at a draft of a
story called “All About My Pets and Family.” Theresa had written the book in
two “volumes” -- one about her pets and the other about her family. The full
text of this story can be found in Appendix D.

Emily calls Theresa up to discuss the draft of her story. It is in two
parts. Emily decides that they will work on the section about Theresa ’s
pets first. She tells Theresa to read it to her -- which she does. Holding
onto and gesturing toward the paper, Emily tells Theresa that one
problem she sees in the text is that there is a lack of sequencing that is
confusing to the reader. Emily then turns over Theresa ’s conferencing
sheet and begins writing and suggesting an order for the story:
“Deceased pets, guinea pig, fish, dogs (Heidi), Bird, Kyle). ” She tells
Theresa that she can switch the order if she wishes too. Then she tells
her that her descriptions of the animals don’t adequately paint a picture
in the reader’s mind. She asks Theresa to begin describing one of her
animals. Theresa says, “He’s white, black and brown.” Emily says and
writes down the word “Colors.” Theresa says, “small” and Emily writes
down and says, “size.” They proceed this way for a few moment --
Theresa describing and Emily transforming her words into categories.
As they complete this exercise, Emily tells Theresa to write the story over
using the information she has generated. (observation, 3/6/95)

Emily described this conference as one in which she wanted Theresa to
think “strictly....about content” (interview, 3/22/95). Therefore she did not
“mark it all up with my editing marks.” In an interview two days later (3/8/95),
Emily described this conference in very positive terms:

That was a great conference yesterday. I thought she was so receptive and

so open. She gave herself all of those ideas. All I did was record them. To

me that’s the ideal way a conference should work, where they spit the
ideas out, I record them and then they go off and work on it.

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In the conference Theresa rarely spoke. She looked up at Emily and smiled

a lot, but said little. She never objected to the changes being made or suggested
by Emily. During the section where they began describing the pets, Emily
directed the action and translated Theresa’s answers into categories. In fact,
during this conference Emily did nearly all of the talking -- something she
acknowledged herself later when watching the videotape of it. After watching
for a few moments, Emily said to herself, “Give her a chance to talk, Emily!”
(interview, 3/22). Emily followed this comment with another, which seemed to
provide both a rationale and her view of Theresa: “Look how well she’s
listening though.” And a few moments later with, “...but she’s really listening
and really involved” and “really into it.”

In many ways Emily’ s perceptions of Theresa were in contrast to those of
Jenna and Timothy. She described Jenna as “sensitive”(interview, 3/8/95) and
“pretty critical of herself” (interview, 5/16/95). Tim was described as “moody”
(interview, 2/16/95). On the other hand, she described Theresa (interview, 3/8/95)
as “really receptive”, “real easy to work with”, “so receptive and so open”, “so
quiet” and someone “who is really into it” (interview, 3/22/95). In fact, during
one interview Emily even contrasted Jenna (during the conference about the fat
penguin story) with Theresa (in the conference about her pet story):

Emily: Yah. Theresa is really receptive. You know, she was real easy to

work with. It made me think of the contrast. Her story needed a lot of

work and she was receptive to it.

Tony: What’s the difference do you think?

Emily: I don’t know. I think it’s personality a lot of times ......

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As Emily suggested, her perceptions of students’ personalities played a

role in how she judged the success of conferences, but also in directing her moves
in the conference itself. As Emily herself said it when discussing the conference:

Emily: ..She was really thinking. I mean, she was coming up with
(inaudible) quick. Some kids just sit there and...

Tony: The answers to your questions?

Emily: Yah! Oh now of course she’ s gonna sit there for a second, but

she’s really listening and really involved. You know too, with some kids

when you’re just not getting anything from them, you kind of think, well I

should settle for that story? But someone like Theresa, who is really into it.

I keep going with it and a lot of kids you can’t go this far. They just really

get (inaudible) after a while.

Emily felt good about Theresa. Theresa was “open” and “receptive.”
Emily felt good about the conference with Theresa. She could “keep going” in
ways that she apparently felt she couldn’t with other students -- based upon her
own perceptions of them at the time.

Summary

Emily Grew’ s classroom was a useful and appropriate site for observing
teacher decision—making in the context of a process writing instruction. She was
a teacher committed to process writing and her classroom contained many
features of this approach. She used the elements of process writing that were
decision-filled and which provided many opportunities to see on-line decision-
making. The decisions Emily made in the context of a process writing approach
were a layered set of decisions -- tied to various types of teacher knowledge and
expertise.

The first set of decisions I have discussed included Emily’ s decisions about

arranging the physical layout of her classroom, as well as those concerned with

the selection and ordering of events into a daily schedule. These illustrated a

 

8O
reliance upon process writing theory for guidance. They also suggested the

usefulness of the teacher as technician model for understanding teacher thinking
-- given decisions with relatively clear boundaries.

Emily also made decisions about establishing instructional routines for her
classroom. These selected routines included such things as conferences, focus
lessons and routines for publishing work. In her decisions to establish these
routines, Emily again demonstrated how she used process writing theory as a
guide for decision-making. In addition, this suggested that the teacher as
thinking technician model might be useful in explaining how some types of
teacher decisions are made.

However, as Emily enacted focus lessons and conferences in her classroom,
she relied on sets of decisions that required guidance by something other than
process writing theory -- and which support an image of teacher thinking that
goes beyond the technical. The examples of her conferences with Jenna, Theresa
and Tim served to illustrate this point. Her on-line decision—making in these
conferences demonstrated an attentiveness to other factors.

In this chapter I have hinted at just what was getting Emily’s attention
during her on-line decision-making. When interacting with Theresa, Tim and
Jenna, Emily framed her on-line decision-making with her perceptions of students
and by describing her role as the classroom editor. In structuring her entire
program, there was a heavy reliance upon mechanics/skills -— an issue framed by
her personal history. Emily also demonstrated attention to her understandings of
the limitations and possibilities of working in an institutional context. I will turn

next to exploring her on-line decision-making as she herself framed it.

Chapter 5
GETTING EMILY’ S ATTENTION

The data indicated that many of Emily Grew’s decisions were guided by
her attention to process writing theory. She organized her room physically to
promote many of the common features of the approach. She also developed a
schedule that included routines promoted by proponents of this approach to
writing instruction. But as Emily enacted these process writing routines and
made on-line decisions in her interactions with students during them, she came
face to face with the moments of uncertainty embedded in such routines.

A central question of this study was to determine what teachers notice --
that guide their moves -- in these moments of uncertainty. The study of Emily
suggests that decisions made in these moments were not guided by process
writing theory. Rather, Emily paid attention to other considerations during these
times. In this analysis I will argue that Emily’s thinking in these moments was
guided by her attention to six concerns -- ones which she herself reported. Three
of these can be categorized as contextual considerations: (a) policy, (b) time, and
(c) parental expectations. The remaining three can be categorized as
instructional considerations: (d) skills, (e) her role, (I) perceptions of students and
their affect.

Next I will discuss what Emily was referencing as she noticed these

considerations. I will suggest that Emily’s attention to these six considerations

81

 

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indicate that Emily referenced bases of knowledge that were tied to experience,

not theory. Her referencing of these bases of knowledge provided her with a
way of framing these events. This framing allowed her to know what to do. I will
discuss this knowledge as being embedded in Emily’s own personal history.

Next I will consider the potential for tension between the knowledge
based in experience that Emily referenced and her decision to implement the
routines based in process writing theory. I will suggest that professional
development efforts provided little support in assisting Emily in recognizing this
tension.

Finally, I will suggest that -- in the absence of professional development
efforts that would have provided her with a mechanism for juxtaposing theory
with her own experience -- learning binds were unknowingly created as Emily
referenced process writing theory for technical moves and her own
understandings of contextual and instructional considerations for on—line
interactions. These will lead to the implications of this study for teacher
education.

What Emily Noticed:
Contextual and Instructional Considerations

As I observed Emily’s work with students during their on-line interactions,
within conferences, I began to note that process writing theory could not be the
point of reference for her choices. Other considerations directed her moves. This
provided a wonderful opportunity to explore what demands teachers’ attention
when theory is insufficient for guiding teachers’ moves in the moment.

Through my observations and interactions with Emily, she reported two

categories of considerations for her on-line moves: contextual and instructional.

 

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Within each category there were three factors. I will attend to her considerations

of those in the contextual group first as a way of demonstrating the situatedness

of her work. Then I will discuss those in the instructional group. It is important to

note here that Emily did not indicate a conscious awareness of these

considerations as the ones which guided her moves. Rather, her talk around

these interactions, as well as the interactions themselves, made them visible.
Contextual Considerations

Emily Grew’ s work in writing instruction occurred at Hillside Elementary
School. This school was configured in a traditional manner. Classrooms lined
long hallways and were divided by grade level designations. The day was broken
up into various subject matters, as well as time periods for such things as gym,
music, art, lunch, and recess. Hillside also had traditional lines of authority.
Teachers were responsible for reporting to parents and administrators, the latter of
whom largely determined policy issues. It is reasonable to assume that nearly all
of these issues factored into Emily’ s on-line decision making efforts with her
students (Florio-Ruane, 1995).

The constraints and opportunities for teachers conducting their work in
classroom settings, such as at Hillside, have long been recognized (Cuban, 1984).
Emily named three such contextual considerations as she talked about her on-line
decision-making. I will explore these three considerations which are supported
in the data -- recognizing as I do so that other considerations were invariably
active, but did not present themselves in our discussions. First I will discuss her
understandings of the school policy about the use of process writing in
classrooms. Second I will explore her beliefs and attention to the impact of issues

of time. Third, I will explore how Emily’ s understandings of the influence of

 

 

 

 

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parents in general, as well as those who ran the school Publishing Center, guided

her decisions.
Decisions Made Alone: Hillside School Policy

When Emily began teaching at Hillside, teaching writing using a process
approach was encouraged by the district, but not mandated. Teachers were
given the option to employ this approach or not. Emily reported that the district
did make some initial attempts at supporting the work of those engaged in efforts
at implementation. Emily herself attended a few of the sessions of an inservice
workshop with a process writing “expert” brought in by the district, during her
third year at Hillside -- an experience Emily stated was not helpful to her. Emily
reported few other supports.

The district wide policy on writing instruction used at Hillside was not a
strong source of guidance for Emily. In fact, it took a few days for her and the
school principal to locate the document which outlined this policy when I asked
for it. Emily stated that its authority for guiding classroom curriculum was
questionable -- given its age and lack of use by most of the teachers in the
district.

Emily did show me an English text that had been recently adopted by the
district. As noted earlier, it was a traditional grammar and writing text that used
the process writing language. Emily cited this text as the guidepost for most
classroom writing policy. She stated that she rarely used it. However, she had
compiled a checklist of writing skills based on the concepts covered in the text.
She used this checklist to show that she had covered skills.

Emily also talked about the lack of alignment in writing practice among the

classrooms and teachers in her building. Teachers did an assortment of things

85
with writing. Some were using the English text as a primary source, while others

were constructing a mix of practices.

Although Emily was encouraged to enact process writing in her classroom,
she did not understand it as a mandate. The lack of a consistent policy left Emily
with little in which to ground her applications of the principles and practice of
process writing. Additionally, Emily had little support in terms of a network of
colleagues who shared her struggles -- although she did mention some
conversations with other teachers in the building about the general contours of
her efforts in writing instruction. Given this lack of a structure and support, Emily
had little to reference in her on-line decision-making that emanated from district
policy or the shared struggles and successes of collegial work with colleagues. In
many ways, Emily’s enactment of process writing in her classroom was a solo
event

Other contextual considerations did seem to garner more of Emily’s
attention during on-line interactions. One of these was the impact of time upon
her work.

Enrily’ s Decisions: Using Time

A constraint of classroom settings, like Emily’s at Hillside, can be the use of
time. Hillside in general, and Emily’s classroom in particular, used a very
traditional schedule for the division of time. Emily designated four periods per
week for process writing. These sessions lasted from approximately 40 - 60
minutes each and were most often placed between the morning recess and lunch.
As indicated earlier, during that time Emily typically began with a focus lesson.
Described by Emily as the time for “direct teaching”, these lessons sometimes

took up more than half of the time designated for writing that day. After the

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focus lesson, Emily typically gave the students a short period of ten minutes or so

for silent writing. After this Emily would generally meet with students for
conferences, while the rest of the class worked on individual or collaborative
writing efforts.

Emily most frequently referenced time as a factor for her decision-making
during her individual conferencing efforts. Given their typical position at the end
of the writing period, time often seemed to run short. During the first few weeks
of the winter observation period, Emily had assigned the students “country
reports.” Each seating group was responsible for doing research and writing a
report on various assigned topics having to do with their country. During the
conferencing time on those days Emily worked quickly with students to do
editing conferences on their reports. I asked her about this during our follow up
interview as we watched a video of these conferences:

Tony: So, if I heard you right it was the time pressure and the fact that
you had all these other kids that needed you attention as well?

Emily: Um-huh. Normally time pressure isn’t a big deal, but we want to
get done. I want to get done with all of this by Friday. I just want it done
and over with. (interview, 1/31/95)

Emily’ s referencing of time in these conferences was tied to the deadline she had
set for the completion of the reports and her sense that the project was nearly
over and most of the students just needed some final editing. As a result, Emily
explained that she altered how she worked with students in the conference.

I do a lot more of actual, “What do you think if we add this?” on these
reports than I would do on their choice writing. Their choice writing I
would say, “Read this to me. What do you think of that sentence? Is there
something you could do to make it work a little more smoothly or read a
little more smoothly?” And then I usually let them change it. I don't know
why. I guess to make things go faster. I can’t spend that kind of time on
their conferences, so ..... (interview, 1/31/95)

 

 

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Given the constraints of time that she felt with these reports, Emily chose to be

more directive -- taking on more of a telling stance than she felt she did during
their “choice” time. But on other occasions Emily also talked about how she
would sometimes also be more directive in their “choice writing” -- the writing
they did in which they picked their own topics, which was what I observed
throughout the rest of this study.

While talking about a conference she had with Missy on her story about
her mother, Emily provided her with words to use in the story. She explained this
in our interview:

...but there are things you choose in that conference. You can’t do

everything. You can’t have them do everything or you’ll overwhelm

them. But, I just remember tidbits from different writing people that talk
about, even in books, not to lead the conferences. To let them discover

that. Time reality is you can’t do that. I can’t. (Interview, 2/8/95)

As Emily considered time in her on-line interactions with Missy, she struck a
compromise position. She was aware of the theoretical principle to allow for
student leadership, but she felt that time prevented her from encouraging it.
Instead, she chose to simply give Missy the information she felt that Missy
needed for her story.

What is not clear from the data is how much of a factor time played in

Emily’s decision-making during typical on-line interactions with her students —- as
opposed to the day in which she was working under a self imposed deadline.
The excerpts above are among only a few in which she referenced time as a factor
in her decision-making. And as Emily herself said, “Normally, time pressure isn’t a
big deal (interview, 1/31/95).”

One other contextual consideration was referenced by Emily as she talked

about her on-line decision-making -- the influence of parental expectations.

 

 

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Emily’s Decisions: Considering Parents

As members of an educational institution, the staff at Hillside Elementary
could be expected to be cognizant of the desires and concerns of parents for their
children’ s education. Emily was no exception. For Emily this occurred almost
exclusively when she talked about two areas of her work with children’s writing
instruction: the acceptability of content and accountability for skills.

As Emily made on-line decisions about the acceptability of the content in
children’s writing efforts, shereferenced the issue of parental expectations. For
example, recall the discussion of the use of slang around Tim’s use of “not” in his

title.

...It’s true, I have to be able to live with whatever is published out of my
room and I don’t want parents being upset that I let them do something
that maybe they wouldn’t agree with. So I do think parents enter into
some of my decisions. And that may be what part of this is. As a parent, if
[my son] came home one day with a story that said, “not,” I’d go
“Awww.” (interview, 2/15/95)

This issue of acceptability of content for parents was also raised when Emily
talked about sending work to the Publishing Center -- which incidentally was
staffed by parents:

I used to work in the Publishing Center a lot more before I had [my son].
We used to have issues come up all the time. You know, I’d read a second
grader’s story and go, “Oh my god.” It would be horrendous. Lot’s of
violence and words that were really borderline for school and, I don’t
know, maybe some of this is just my morals. As a parent, I would never
want my kid coming home with a story that I wouldn’t appreciate other
people hearing. Writing it is one thing, but publishing it is another thing.
It’s a big difference and I tell the kids that. “You know, some of you may
enjoy writing these blood and guts stories. That’s just fine if you want to
write them, but I don’t need to see them and you can’t publish them.”
(interview, 3/8/95)

In some ways it was hard to distinguish Emily’s projections of the expectations of

parents -- as she often referenced her students’ parents by talking about herself.

 

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Regardless of whether this consideration was based in experience with other

parents or her own perspective as a parent, it seems likely that this had some
influence over how she judged content and made on-line decisions in regard it. I
also note here that the data shows only a few references to parents on this issue,

Another area where Emily raised the issue of the impact of parental
expectations was on the teaching of skills -- meaning mechanics and grammar.
During one interview (3/23/95) Emily and I examined the portfolio of work that
Emily kept on Tim as part of her student record keeping system. AS we talked
about his work, Emily explained that in her earlier years some parents would ask
her about the teaching of skills. She speculated that this might have been true
both because she was a new teacher and because they might have heard that she
was using whole language —- and viewed this suspiciously. She went on to say
that she used the student’s own writing to illustrate her teaching and their grasp
of skills when talking with parents. This brief conversation, coupled with her use
of a skills chart to record skills she taught in focus lessons, led me to suspect that
Emily hypothesized that parents expected accountability for skills . She in turn
paid attention to this as she interacted with students.

largely, it is difficult to estimate the full impact of institutional
considerations on Emily’ s on-line decision-making. Her references to these
concerns were minimal in comparison to other considerations. In addition, it is
difficult to separate out those considerations that emanated from her own role as
a parent with those that came from institutional contexts -- as Emily’s experiences
with the institutional context of schools were also a part of her own life

experience. But given the references she did make, as well as the many

 

 

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references to the constraints and opportunities of school contexts in the literature,

attention to this consideration was imperative.
In addition to these contextual considerations, Emily also named three
others. These were in the category of instructional considerations.

Instructional Considerations

 

As a teacher Emily had to consider the needs of her students
instructionally as they interacted together in a classroom setting -- a unique and
demanding setting. As an elementary school teacher she had to give thought to
curriculum and pedagogy -- determining how best her students might learn and
what they should learn. She also had to be mindful of such things as the most
advantageous roles she might help to develop for both her students and for
herself. She was indeed a teacher and they were her students. Emily also needed
to consider the best interests of her students socio-emotionally, as well as
academically -- and as she envisioned them.

As Emily moved in on-line interactions with her students, she did attend to
and/or name such categories -- ones which I will call instructional considerations.
In observations of her on-line interactions and subsequent conversations, it
became apparent that Emily attended to three such considerations and that these
directed her moves. First I will talk about how Emily used her own belief in skills
-- mechanics and grammar -- as a way to develop writing. Second, I will talk about
how she named her role as a teacher in her on-line interactions to guide her
moves. Third, I will show how student affect demanded Emily’s attention.
Emily’s Decisions: Considering Skills

When enacting process writing routines, Emily considered what students

needed to learn so that they could deveIOp as writers. What she noticed in those

 

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moments were skills -- mechanics and grammar. It was primarily her actions in

teacher/ student conferences that showed how attention to skills guided her
moves.

As Emily conducted conferences her attention to skills dominated. Of the
seventy-one conferences that I observed, Emily dedicated forty-two of them to
skills/editing functions. But her attention to skills was even more apparent in the
moves that she made within these conferences. As conferences began, Emily
typically held on to the children’s writing. Because she hadn’t had an
opportunity to look at the text in advance, she often spent a few moments
scanning it before beginning. Most frequently she would then begin to focus on
such conventions as spelling, punctuation, and grammatical considerations. This
pattern of attention to skills was repeated in the majority of conferences that I
observed.

When Emily talked about how good writing was developed she named
skills. This was most evident when she talked about her own experiences as a
writer. Emily said “ ..... because I think I learned so much skill, skill, skill, I think
skills are really important...” (interview, 11/21/94). Given the value she placed on
this in her own learning, it would seem quite reasonable to expect this to capture
her attention in her own work with student writing efforts.

As Emily moved in on—line interactions, she also attended to her role as a
teacher in that interaction. I will note her consideration of this next.

Emily’ s Decisions: Considering Her Role

In the classroom setting Emily was a teacher. Her consideration of this role

in on-line interactions was imperative. Emily demonstrated an attention to her

role in the conduct of focus lessons and individual teacher/student conferences.

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Both revealed a conception of teacher role that was central to the action. Her use

of metaphorical talk about her role in on-line interactions also served to name her
attention to this role. I

In talking about her on-line interactions with students like Jenna and Tim,
Emily used the metaphorical language of being an “editor” and a “publisher” in
the classroom. Emily viewed these roles as being central because the “editor
would say what you can and can’t publish” (interview, 2/18/95) and is “the one
who approves” (interview, 3/8/95). Using such a metaphor, Emily named her own
attention to a traditional role as a teacher who is at the center of decision—making
about both the conduct of interactions and the content of them.

All of the focus lessons in Emily’s classroom demonstrated her belief in the
teacher’s role as central to the interactions. As Emily talked about them she said
that they were a time for the “direct teaching” of things she saw as important.
She further indicated, through her actions, that this direct teaching was best done
through a teacher telling model -- as opposed to modeling. Emily typically stood
in front of the class, asked questions and gave answers.

As Emily conducted and talked about her on-line interactions with
students during her conferences with them, she continued to name and
demonstrate her consideration of her role. Individual student/teacher conferences
were also teacher-led and centered. Emily consistently initiated the focus for
each lesson and directed the action. And again, as Emily talked about how her
attention was focused in these interactions she used metaphorical talk about
being the classroom “editor” and “publisher” -— and in her view of these they

gave her a central role in interactions.

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Finally, Emily also named her perceptions of students as she talked about

what got her attention in on-line interactions.
Emily’s Decisions: Considering Perceptions of Students

In her on—line interactions with students Emily often considered her
perceptions of them. In our post observation discussions she often named these
factors as important considerations in her on-line moves with children around
their writing text.

For example, Emily talked in general terms about many children in the
classroom as being capable writers. Sometimes she said that they were good
editors. However, Emily rarely connected how she worked with students to
references about their specific capabilities as writers. When talking about her
work with them she more typically referred to her perceptions of their
personalities: Rick was capable, but “cocky” (interview, 2/16/93. David was “a
really neat kid," a “really logical kind of kid”(interview, 2/15/95). And Aaron
was a “real sensitive kid” (interview, 1/31/93. Emily’s on-line decision-making
was linked to her perceptions of personalities and the subsequent relationships
she shared with students at any given time.

The examples of Theresa, Jenna and Tim further illustrate her attention to
perceptions of students’ personalities and affect. In each case when Emily talked
about her work in on-line interactions, she referenced them with talk about such
perceptions. The conference with Theresa on her story about her mother was
“ideal” because she was “so open” -- a student “who is really into it”
(interview, 3/22/95). Consequently Emily said that she could go further in this
conference than she could with other kids. In her interactions with Jenna, Emily

noted that Jenna was about to cry during their discussion of the lesson in her

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story about the fat penguin. This she attributed to Jenna being very “sensitive”.

Emily then changed the direction of the interaction and directed their move to
another issue at the end of the story. When Tim turned in his final copy of his fish
story, Emily told him that he could not publish it in its existing form. In talking
about her decision during this interaction with him, Emily attributed it to his lack
- of editing -- but then said that this was due to her perception of him as a “moody
kid” who “just doesn’t give a rip about the way things look” (interview,
2/16/95).

In each of the cases above, Emily reported her perceptions of students and
related these to what she considered as she made moves in on-line decision-
making. As she noticed these considerations, as well as the five others that she
reported through her actions and talk, Emily referenced things other than process
writing theory. I will turn next to what Emily referenced.

Framing Her Decisions:
Bases of Knowledge in Experience

As Emily constructed responses to on-line interactions her decisions were
nested in knowledge she had built from experience and brought to the process
writing based routines, rather than nested in process writing theory itself. As she
referenced this knowledge as a basis for her thinking, it provided her with a way
of framing events and thus gave her a direction for her moves in these on-line
interactions. In this section I will discuss the bases of knowledge that Emily
referenced -— and argue that they were rooted in her own personal history.

First I will show how Emily developed a view of pedagogy as teacher-
centered and led, as well as how her conception of her own role emerged and was

integrated with process writing language. Next I will explore her understandings

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of how learning was constructed, as well as how these understandings were

embedded into her bases of knowledge -— using her skill orientation to do so.
Finally I will explore how her bases of knowledge in experience led to a
conception of professional knowledge that was embedded in children.
Personal History As The Basis of Knowledge

The importance of teachers’ own history in relation to the way they
conduct their own work has been demonstrated in the literature. For example,
Lortie (1975) suggested that those who go into teaching serve an
“apprenticeship of observation” -- in which, as students, they have “protracted
face-to—face and consequential interactions with established teachers.” He
suggested that this apprenticeship is “more a matter of imitation, which, being
generalized across individuals, becomes tradition” (p. 63). For Emily, this
apprenticeship of observation contributed to understandings of teaching and
learning that framed her responses to on-line interactions.
Emily’ s Decisions: An Apprenticeship of Observation

As the child of a career military member, Emily often lived on military bases
-- places where order and a chain of command were emphasized. Periodically she
attended Department of Defense schools on military bases. At other times she
attended private Catholic schools or public schools off of the base. Given her
description of these events and places, these schools were very traditional -- in a
teacher-led, teacher-centered manner. For example, Emily described one of the
Catholic schools she attended as “...a very controlled parochial school, very
conservative, very controlling... ” (interview, 11/21/94). Also, talking about her

own experiences in school, as well as those of her siblings, Emily said, “...we all

 

 

 

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learned with a very traditional approach to reading and writing and math. For us

that was a fine approach.”

When talking about instructional styles she appreciated from her own
experience as a student, Emily illustrated by comparing herself to an instructor
she had during her own teacher training:

He had this real eclectic approach to teaching and I’m more of a step by

step person. Even when I do a presentation, it’s step by step, because

that’s the way I learn the best. “This is how you do it, step one, step two
or here’s the other view and then this is how you implement it.”

(interview, 1 1/21/94)

When making on-line decisions as she enacted process writing based routines,
Emily’ s moves became a mirror image of the traditional teacher-centered and led
and “step by step” approaches that were part of her own history.

Teacher Led and Centered Interactions: Emily Decides Who Goes First

As Emily enacted routines for process writing instruction, a number of
choices for structuring her interactions with students were available to her. One
such alternative was to promote student-centered interactions around text -- such
that students determined and controlled the flow of the interactions. However,
given the influence of her personal history, Emily structured process writing in
her classroom as a teacher-led and centered activity. This was one feature of her
instruction that led me to look for something other than process writing as the
more direct resource for her decision-making.

In observing Emily’s interactions with students during focus lessons, I
noted that all of the focus lessons were teacher-led. Emily asked the questions
and called on students to respond. For example, the lesson on parts of a sentence

(chapter four) began with Emily directing them to look in the English textbook.

She told them to turn to the lesson page and then she read the definition of a

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sentence. She directed them through a sample activity in the book, as well as

sentences she had prepared on the overhead. Emily asked the questions and
called on students to supply answers.

When Emily placed students as the physical focal point in focus lessons,
she continued to decide the content and direction of the interactions. Lessons
remained teacher-led and centered. Emily consistently delegated the role of
teacher to herself and that of learner to her students in this traditional classroom
configuration. The “memorable and more” sessions were examples of this:

Emily tells all of the students to go to the back corner. She

explains that they will share some of their writing today. Tim
volunteers to go first. He reads his story about how to go fishing.

As he reads Emily takes notes on small post it notes. After Tim

finishes reading Emily asks the other students to tell Tim

something they liked or remembered about his story. Several

students respond -- some with items that do not fit Emily’s

prompt. She reminds them to tell only what they like and

remember. She says, “Memorable means what you like and

remember.” Emily tells them that Tim will read it again and

that this time they will be able to ask questions. After he finishes
students begin asking questions. Emily adds a few of her own. She
writes down both the student questions and her own on the post it

notes and gives these to Mike. She explains that now he will know
what the class thinks is memorable and maybe the questions will help
him to think about what to do with his story. Jamie goes next. She

says that her story is not finished. She calls it “The Opposite Book.”
She reads the story. Afterwards Emily asks the class to say what was
memorable. Several students respond. Emily tells Jamie to read it again
and reminds the class what to think about during the reading. As she

finishes reading, several of the students and Emily ask questions. Emily
then asks the class if anyone has an idea for an opposite story for Jamie.
The students offer ideas and Emily then summarizes that they’d like
“more funny parts.” Greg goes up next and reads his story about his
Cuban father. They follow the same routine. As Greg ’5 turn ends, Emily
recaps all of the questions asked and then prompts the students to
suggest that Greg call his dad to ask questions about the things he’s not
sure about. As the session ends Emily sends all of the students off to
begin a period of writing. (observation, 9/12/94)

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Throughout the session, Emily directed the students to read their own

work, but Emily determined the structure of the activity, as well as how students
would respond to each other's writing efforts and when.

Emily conducted individual student/teacher conferences in much the same
fashion. Although students turned in drafts when they were ready for a
conference, it was Emily who decided when students would come to her.
Sometimes she decided to delay conferences for several weeks because she said
that she was uncertain about what to do with a student’s work.

Given her experiences that led to understandings of instruction as teacher
centered and led, Emily also enacted a companion conception of teacher role.
She described this role metaphorically as an “editor” and “publisher.”

Teacher’ s Role: Classroom Editor and Publisher

Emily often stated that she was the classroom “editor” and “publisher.”
For Emily, the metaphors of editor and publisher represented real world images —-
images that existed in the world of publishing and which should be represented
in the classroom. For example, Emily reported that at the beginning of each year
she would bring in an author to “tell their experiences submitting things and
getting rejected” (interview, 3/8/95). In this way Emily hoped that her students
would see that the process she was putting them through as classroom editor and
publisher was modeled after what happens in the real world of publishing text.
Emily reinforced her belief in the appropriateness of transporting such real world
images into the classroom when she told me that she had given herself the goal of
being published professionally.

...So at the beginning of the year, if I don’t have an author come in I try to
explain the process. That’s why I need to try to publish something, so I

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can tell them from experience the process, but that people might submit
things 25 times and it will be rejected. (interview, 3/8/95)

In this way Emily hoped to align her students’ writing experiences with the real
world experiences of published writers. She saw her role in the process as
representing her perceptions of real world editors and publishers.

It is important to note here that Emily did not idiosyncratically invent these
images as templates for her role and decision-making. They did not come out of
thin air or whim. They were extensions of the images and roles used by
advocates in the process writing literature -- literature that Emily had read
repeatedly. They are offered to help teachers understand the foundations for
writing as a process, as well as for ways to operationalize process writing in
classroom settings. For example, Calkins (1986) states that one strand of the
research that undergirds this approach is based on observations and discussions
with professional authors about how they write. In addition, examples of the
processes by which published writers work, and which are meant to serve as an
example for classroom instruction, are used throughout the literature on process
writing. Process writing advocates intentionally use professional published
authors as real world examples to be emulated by classroom-based student
writers. Indeed, the language of process writing itself supports this notion:
editing, publishing, etc.

But all metaphors have weaknesses. Emily’s use of metaphorical images of
real world editors and publishers as images for her role in the classroom
exemplified such a weakness. Hers was an over extension of the real world
applications of process writing. Emily was not literally an editor or a publisher

any more than her students were literally professional writers. Although student

 

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writers and professional writers may experience writing as a process in similar

ways, they do not share a common context. For example, neither Emily nor her
students were free agents in their work together. Students could not go to
another “editor” with their work. Emily could not elect to not work with a
student. In truth, it was still an elementary school classroom. They were bound in
their work together in ways that did not compare as neatly with the world
outside of classrooms. Emily’s showed no awareness of this incongruity in her
work with her students -- norwould she be expected to. In the process writing
literature there is no discussion of the weaknesses of this metaphor for classroom
settings.

Emily’s own history and her extension of the metaphorical language used
by process writing advocates very likely gave her a perception of congruence in
her on-line decision-making when interacting around student writing efforts. Her
decision-making took into account perceptions based on her history and a
teacher role that she experienced as consistent with the stance of reformers.
From Emily’s History: The Importance of “Skills”

As the leader and center of interactions in her classroom, Emily also
decided on the focus of her interactions with children around their writing efforts.
This focus might have been on the content of their writing -- including such
things as theme, point of view, and plot. She might also have elected a more
traditional focus upon the mechanics and grammar of writing. Some variation of
the two might also have been reasonably enacted.

Characteristic of Emily’s interactions with students was a heavy reliance
upon things she often referred to as “skills” -- mechanics and grammar. Given

the frequency of her decisions to focus upon them, the data indicate that “skills”

 

 

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were at the center of Emily’s instructional program. Emily’ s heavy emphasis on

“skills” can also be traced to her own “apprenticeship of observation”. As
Emily began to talk about her own experiences as a student, a learner and a
writer, the roots of her skills orientation became evident. During one interview
(11/21/94) she talked about skills in relation to her own “mode of learning”:

Emily: ....... but I learned a lot about writing. I had to take journalism [in
college], heavy journalism. Lots of different kinds of writing classes. I
learned a lot about writing there. And I think I always had really strong
skills. Like I’m not great on the creativity end, but as far as pulling the
paper together, that’ s always comes really easy for me. I even helped the
house [sorority house] that I lived in when I was in college. I was one of
the people that did typing for everybody. I earned so much money that
way and I helped them pull their papers together, editing and
paragraphing. To me it was like, “How come you can’t do this?” And I
think it’s because the way I learned how to write. It was really scheduled
and it was not process writing. Process writing was not a part of anything
I ever learned. I never saw that until I learned it as a new teacher.

Tony: But, you think it was because your earlier experiences in school
were very heavy skills oriented?

Emily: Yeah, I learned well that way. I remember phonics was drilled into
my head and I became an excellent reader. But that’s my mode of leamrng.
It’s not the way I would chose to teach kids, but for me it worked well and
actually for all my sisters too.

She went on to say:
Emily: ..... because I thinkI learned so much skill, skill, skill, I think skills
are really important and I think that probably when Whole Language
started, a lot of people threw out phonics and they threw out skills and I

think that led to the downfall of Whole Language being popular, quote
unquote.

Emily believed that she learned to become a writer through a skills
oriented approach in school. Other life experiences reinforced this notion. For
example, she was influenced by her father, who wrote for various newspapers

and ultimately became the editor of a major military publication. She talked about

a family chain letter that they pass around and how each member of her family

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displayed their good editing capabilities in it. Additionally, as a college student

Emily earned money by helping her sorority sisters edit their papers. She also
served an internship, and then briefly worked at, the United States Department of
Agriculture in Washington, DC. Her job there was to edit documents.

Emily’s experiences with writing and her beliefs about her own
competence in writing emerged from her personal history and revolved around
her notions of the importance of “skills” -- the mechanics and grammar of
writing. As such they were highly influential and evident in her interactions with
students in on-line decision-making.

A Focus on Skills: Emily Decides

When Emily was faced with opportunities for decision-making in her
writing program, she characteristically chose to emphasize grammar and
mechanical skills. This occurred at all stages of the process and was a major
feature of focus lessons and individual conferences. As indicated in chapter four,
Emily dedicated ten of the twenty-three focus lessons to this area of instruction.
Given Emily’s stated reliance (interview, 3/23/95) upon focus lessons as an
important place for “direct teaching” of things needed by all of her students, I
concluded that Emily understood skills as important to teach. In addition, Emily
dedicated a large number of individual conferences either solely or significantly
to editing of skills. Many of those that were not, had some mention of skills.

Given Emily’s background and “apprenticeship of observation," it is not
surprising that her classroom writing instructional program would place such an
emphasis on skills over the content of writing. Emily perceived herself as
someone who learned to write using a skills oriented approach. She believed that

this approach had worked well for her. Given her additional experiences in

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teacher-centered and led classrooms, it would make sense that she would conduct

her own class in like manner.

As Emily enacted process writing routines in her on-line decision-making
she was also guided by her perceptions of students and their affect. These too
were rooted in knowledge constructed from her experiences.

MakingDecisions: What Do Children Need?

For many educators, professional knowledge is embedded in content or
pedagogy. For Emily, professional knowledge was embedded in children. She
based her instructional moves and on-line decisions on an ability (or lack thereof)
to engage children by developing a positive relationship with them. These on-
line decisions were a legacy of Emily’s experiences in her personal history. When
Emily recalled her own teachers she talked about their relationships with children.

For example, on one occasion she recalled her own first grade teacher, Sister
Sarah Michael:

I loved teachers and I just thought it was, I really admired teachers,
especially teachers that were good. So there were probably a lot that I
really could say if I could remember. But Sister Sarah Michael in the first
grade, she did, she took an interest in all the kids. But she was a young
nun and I always thought it was so cool to wear habits then and
everything. But she was just a really kind person and we have a picture of
me with her on my first communion and you just look at her and you know
from looking at it that she was a kind person. She loved kids and she just
made everyone feel special. There was nothing that, as far as her teaching,
that I remember. I just remember her being a really neat teacher. (interview,
1 1/21/94)

She spoke in similar ways about Mrs. Rodriquez, a teacher she had in Okinawa:

...But then there was a teacher when we went to school on Okinawa. She
was a social studies teacher and her name was Mrs. Rodriquez. She was
some different nationality, because I remember she kind of was, well she
was probably Spanish is what I’m thinking. But she was cool. She was like
the cool teacher. She was not real young, but not old. She was probably
my age, like 30ish. (Inaudible - laughing) Yeah, but she was cool. She was

 

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(inaudible) cool and you know, people just, the kids always related to her

and I think it was because she took the time with kids. She knew all the

kid stuff that was going on....(interview, 11/21/94)

Emily recalled another teacher, Mr. Ball, as being a “story teller” who
“mesmerized” students by dressing up as characters from history. An instructor
in her preservice education “...was so good. I just became such a fanatic about
literature after taking her class. She made it really, really fun, motivating...”
(interview, 1 1/21/94).

As Emily’s talked about teachers she encountered during her own
apprenticeship of observation, she did not talk much about the subject matter or
content of their work together. What Emily recalled most were the kinds of
relationships these teachers enjoyed with their students. In her own practice,
relationships with students became a frame for directing her on-line decisions
about what to do next.

As Emily enacted the routines of a process writing approach to writing
instruction, her on-line interactions were based in knowledge that was rooted in
her experience. But Emily had also had professional development experiences
that were intended to help her implement this approach into her classroom. I will
address these next.

The Filter: Professional Development

Professional development activities did little to help Emily expose and
explore her beliefs about writing and writing instruction -- or to consciously
juxtapose them with the tenets of the process approach in a sustained or on-
going manner. Most of Emily’s professional development efforts occurred prior to

the beginning of this study. My discussion of these efforts is based on her

 

 

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reports of them throughout our discussions and more formal interviews. In these

she discussed some exposure to the process approach through her preservice and
graduate work -- but most of her professional development efforts consisted of
brief workshops held during the first few years of her teaching career. She
reported few other supports and nothing of a sustained nature. For Emily,
professional development served as a filtering device.

Transforming the Process: “Step by Step”

The filtering for Emily began when she was first introduced to process
writing during her preservice teacher experiences. This occurred a number of
years after she had already received her first Bachelors degree. Having felt
unfulfilled working in the areas of insurance and marketing, she began to pursue
a second Bachelors in elementary education. During the course of this
experience she took courses from two professors that introduced her to process
writing. She referred to this exposure to process writing as an “eye opener”
(interview, 11/21/94), but also inadequate. She stated that, “I didn’t even get it at
first. I didn’t get it at all.” Much of this Emily attributed to the manner in which it
was taught. She said that they “just threw it all over the place” and she needed
it to be “step by step” -- the way she learned.

Even though she did not fully understand process writing, Emily stated
that she began using it in her classroom during her first year of teaching. She said
that she “did the steps they say to do and had a writing center” (interview,
11/21/94). Emily stated that she knew that what she was doing in her classroom
at that time was not adequate.

...It wasn’t until I got my own classroom, I think, that I

understood process writing and then it was because I was doing
Masters work where I was reading more about it and I met Ruth

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Nathan and I don’t really think I truly understood it until probably
my second year teaching. (interview, 11/21/94)

Emily met author/educator Ruth Nathan - someone she referred to as a
model (interview, 3/22/95) . She attended a few conferences where Nathan
spoke. Emily cited her in eight of our thirteen interviews when talking about her
writing instruction. In two other interviews I made the initial reference to Nathan
and Emily then responded with talk about her. Emily referred to Nathan as
someone whose ideas “were really easy to adapt to a classroom” (interview,
11/22/94). She even cited Nathan as the source and/or model for such specific
activities as the “memorable and more” sessions, as well as conferences:

Memorable and more is directly from Ruth Nathan. I think she used those

words. I’m not sure. And, actually, kind of the conferencing things are

pretty much from her too. I had to simplify conferencing... So, I really
simplified my conferences and modeled them after the memorable and more

(interview, 2/15/95).

Emily talked about how Nathan was very helpful to her because she was able to
make process writing “manageable.” Emily’s direct interactions with Nathan
occurred a number of years before this study began. However, it was apparent
from Emily’ 3 references to her that Nathan had been most influential in giving her
ideas for classroom management and focus lessons -- technical implementation.

When referring to Ruth Nathan during interviews, Emily also talked about

the influence of a book that Nathan had written, Classroom Strategies That

 

Work: An Elementagy Teacher’ 5 Guide to Process Writing (Nathan, et al.). This
book begins with a seven page introduction of “Principles for Teaching the
Writing Process” and a three page “Description of the Writing Process.” The
remainder of the book is set up to give “procedures for setting up and managing

a writing program” (p. 9), as well as example lessons. As such the book is

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designed to provide technical assistance to teachers. Emily said that she reread

Nathan’s book every summer to get ideas. During the course of the study Emily
also began talking about a new Nathan book she was using to make decisions
about her writing instruction. This book, Writers Express: A Handbook for
You_ng Writers, Thinkers, and Leamers (Kemper, Nathan, & Sebranek, 1994), is
designed to be used by students as a sort of reference book for such things as
punctuation and forms of writing.

As Emily reported them, her interactions with Ruth Nathan, the person or
via her books, provided her with management and lesson ideas. However, Emily
gave no indication that it provided her with opportunities that would make
visible her unconscious referencing of knowledge based in experience -- or
opportunities to juxtapose these with the tenets of the process writing approach
and compare their compatibility. Nor did Emily indicate that these professional
development activities provided her with any occasions for sustained and/or long
term conversations about her attempts to implement process writing theory.

Attempting to Change Without a Challenge or Support

Emily stated that she received little support from her school district in her
attempts to develop and implement a process writing program. Emily did have
the opportunity to attend a district sponsored inservice on the process writing
approach. However, Emily stated that, even though she was only a third year
teacher at the time, she felt she knew more about process writing than the speaker
and that the speaker did not know how to teach (interview, 3/22/95). She did
not attend the rest of the sessions and used the time to work with a few other
teachers to construct lists of “typical” characteristics of children’s writing at

various grade levels -- using lists in one of Nathan’s book as a basis.

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Emily did believe that the district was committed to a process writing

approach to writing instruction. This was evidenced by their encouragement of
her own voluntary efforts at using this approach in her classroom. She also cited
the district’s adoption of an English book that was based on the process writing
approach as evidence of this. It used process writing jargon and had pages
dedicated to talk about the various phases of the writing process and how to
implement them. The book looked to me like a traditional English text, with
separate lessons on grammar, punctuation, etc. Emily said that she used this book
very little. I only observed her using it during the focus lessons on verbs, kinds of
sentences and punctuation (observations, 9/19/94, 9/22/94, 3/6/95, 3/8/95).
Perhaps most telling, about the lack of challenge or support in Emily’s
process writing efforts, was Emily’s own assertion about her professional
development activities. During one interview Emily talked about how she had
heard from a colleague about a principal (Sandra) who was providing her
teachers with mentoring. She lamented about the lack of mentoring that was
being provided for her:
...and Sandra comes in and she teaches model lessons for [my friend] as a
true mentor for the teacher. And I thought, when was the last time I had
that? When was the last time anyone motivated me to do anything?

Everything I do, and I change is because I am self motivated... (interview,
1/26/95)

I would concur with Emily. She was self-motivated. Of her own volition she
attempted to implement and maintain a process writing approach. However,
desire alone was not enough to help her locate her relevant prior beliefs or to
predict how those beliefs might interact with process writing ideas. Nor was it
enough to evoke self monitoring efforts, evaluate them, or pose alternative

accommodating attempts. What Emily clearly stated was a need for a mentoring

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relationship as part of her professional development -- something she did not

have.

Emily had enthusiastically involved herself in professional development
activities but was unable to find in them adequate opportunities for sustained
exploration and learning. These professional development activities acted merely
as filtering mechanisms -- not as change agents. She had neither been challenged
nor supported in her efforts.

As has been indicated, one objective that was unrealized in Emily’s reports
of her professional development experiences was the acquisition of a mechanism
that would have allowed her to juxtapose her own knowledge based in
experience with the tenets and implications of process writing theory. Emily was
not given opportunities to notice the tension between how personal history
guided her when deploying the routines and how theory had guided her when
she had established them. If these opportunities did occur, contrary to her
reports, they were clearly too distant in time and not of the sustained and on-
going type. This lack of appropriate professional development opportunities
resulted in a secondary layer of decisions which created learning binds -- a
byproduct of her decision-making that Emily had not been helped to notice.

A Secondary Layer of Decisions:
Creating Learning Binds

As Emily constructed and enacted her own revised form of process writing
she paid attention to institutional and contextual considerations. Given the
nature and influence of her knowledge based in experience, her resulting on-line
decision-making efforts were reasonable and understandable -- and resulted from

Emily’s good faith efforts to enact her understandings of process writing.

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Emily’ s decision-making also resulted in a number of secondary layers of

decisions.

In this section I will look at three of the secondary layers of decisions
which resulted from Emily’s on-line decision-making. I will talk about each as a
learning bind -- a way of securing and confining learning for Emily and her
students. First I will examine a learning bind that was created when Emily
embedded professional knowledge in children. Second, I will consider a related
bind that was created based on decisions rooted in Emily’s perceptions of her
own abilities. Finally, I will explore a learning bind, rooted in Emily’s attempts to
enact principles and practices of process writing, which held assumptions about
her role but made no explicit allowances for the constraints of her context.

It is important to note here that the data suggest that both the creation and
existence of these learning binds were unconscious for Emily. They resulted from
the lack of a meaningful mechanism that would have helped Emily to consciously
juxtapose the potential, in the moment effect of process writing and her own
experience based knowledge in visible ways -- and with opportunities for
sustained learning via on-going professional development efforts. This idea will
be considered in more detail in chapter six.

A Learning Bind: Emily’s Perceptions of Students

When Emily spoke about the work her students did in writing, two kinds
of characterizations were consistent. On many occasions Emily gave generalized
descriptions of them related to their writing. For example, during one interview
(1/31/95) she referred to Deb, Shayna, Rick, and Perry as “good” or “excellent”
editors. In another (2/16/95) she referred to Steven as “a good writer.” But more

often, Emily gave descriptions that she based on her perceptions of them as

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individuals. Steven was “a really open kid” and “a neat kid” (interview,

2/16/95). Greg was “the most sensitive and caring” (interview, 2/16/95) and
Aaron was a “real sensitive kid” (interview, 1/31/95). As demonstrated with
Jenna and Tim, it was Emily’s perceptions of her students that often seemed to
guide her on-line decision-making. This reliance on her perceptions of children
demonstrated that Emily was a teacher who cared about her students as
individuals. However, it may also have unwittingly created a learning bind for
Emily and her students.

When she worked with Theresa on her story about her family, Emily said
(interview, 3/8/95) that she was able to go further because Theresa was “open”
and “receptive.” She decided not to continue the discussion of Jenna’s theme in
the fat penguin story because Emily’s perceptions of Jenna and her reaction was
that she was “‘sensitive.” Ultimately she sent her off to work with someone else.
Tim did not get to publish because he was “moody.” She decided not to work
with him further unless he decided to do the editing she wanted him to do. In
each case, Emily based her on-line decisions on her perceptions of students as
individuals -- and these may have been appropriate attempts to consider the
individual needs of her students. But, what did not get Emily’s attention in these
interactions with students were other possible moves based on such things as the
quality of their text or their needs as developing writers.

Emily might have chosen to work with Theresa to advance her work as a
writer -- focusing on areas that might foster further learning. Or Emily might have
engaged in a fruitful discussion with Jenna about theme development. However,
Emily was confined primarily to her perceptions of students as she worked with

them on their writing -- as well as consideration of her personal history. This

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unknowingly limited Emily’s range of potential moves, as well as the students’

opportunities for learning. Emily’s work with these student’s was constrained by
her inability to see other kinds of on-line decisions. As a result, other learning
opportunities for students were not explored -- nor was Emily able to experience
the full range of potentially enriching experiences. She too might have grown
from these potentially fruitful discussions about writing.

Indeed, Emily’s decisions based on her perceptions of students were not
the only learning bind that limited her own learning opportunities or that of her
students. They were also caught in a second but related bind -— based in Emily’s
perceptions of her own ability, as rooted in her personal history.

A Learning Bind: Emily’s Perceptions of Her Own Abiliy

In the preliminary stages of the study (interview, 8/20/95) Emily told me
that she was concerned about my request that she keep a journal throughout the
study. She explained that she viewed her own writing as “plain.” She went on
to say that she felt her own writing paled in comparison with that done by people
like Ruth Nathan. On another occasion she said “...I think I always really had
strong skills. I’m not great on the creativity end, but as far as pulling the paper
together, that’ s always come really easy for me...” (interview, 11/21/94). Emily
viewed her own writing very positively when it came to skills, but she indicated
far less confidence with creativity -- a viewpoint grounded firmly in her personal
history.

As Emily worked with her students she emphasized mechanics and
grammar -- things she viewed as “skills” and upon which she placed great value
in her own writing. As I noted earlier, this emphasis on skills was evidenced by

her choices about the topics for writing conferences and focus lessons. Even

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when Emily did direct conferences and focus lessons toward content issues, these

were limited in nature and scope. Given Emily’s own designation of content
related issues as the “creativity end” of writing and her own admitted lack of
confidence in this area, she also may have unconsciously avoided this area in her
work with students -- attempting instead to provide her students with the skills
that she valued and felt strong in.

Thus, Emily’ s actions, which were rooted in her perceptions of her own
abilities, presented a learning bind for her students. Her on-line decisions to focus
on skills inadvertently minimized their opportunities to explore the creative
aspects of writing. It simultaneously minimized opportunities for Emily to
engage in those very activities and conversations that might have altered her
own perceptions of her abilities -- via talking about the content of writing efforts
with students. She did not take full advantage of, or in some cases may not have
recognized, opportunities to work with students like Jenna and Theresa on the
content of their stories. Perhaps in working on the more creative end of content
with students, Emily might have had more opportunities for personal growth and
learning. However, there was no data to indicate that this occurred. Emily’s
attention to her own personal history and perceptions of herself bound her own
learning and consequently that of her students too. Everyone’s learning was
limited. But Emily herself may have been placed into a double bind —- given the
assumptions built into the process approach.

Advocates of process writing assume that teachers are capable creatively
and they promote features of classroom writing instruction that are dependent
upon such abilities. But, what if a teacher like Emily is, or at least feels that she is,

incapable of such work and talk? She did indicate that she did not view either

1 14
herself or her writing as creative and that her strengths were in skills work. And

the data suggest that she did maintain a focus on skills over creative content.
What alternatives did she have? For Emily, one alternative choice might have
been to unintentionally substitute more skills for content and continue to present
only a limited range of content focus. Given her own reliance upon her personal
history and the assumptions built into the process approach, Emily had few
alternatives.

Finally, Emily and her students were also locked into a third learning bind
that impacted their opportunities for growth. Emily’s attempts at enacting
process writing goals, coupled with her understandings of her role and the
limitations and possibilities of a classroom setting, made it difficult to determine
what would be acceptable content in children’ 5 writing efforts.

A Leaming Bind: Emily’s Decision-Making as a Slippery Slope

As Emily attempted to enact process writing in her classroom she accepted
and promoted principles of process writing that encouraged students to select
their own topics and use their own language in writing efforts. Emily placed
great value on helping students to generate ideas for their writing topics. As she
said it herself, “...you’ve got to give them ideas. They have to have ideas. I need
ideas as a writer” (interview, 2/8/95). As further evidence of the importance she
placed on this, four of the eight focus lessons dedicated to content involved
brainstorming for topic ideas alone. Observing these topic brainstorming sessions,
it seemed that the range of acceptable possibilities was endless.

But other considerations competed for Emily’s attention as she worked
with students around their text -- and these provided a very slippery terrain for

Emily’ s moves in on-line interactions (Lensmire, 1994). In those moves Emily also

115

paid attention to her understandings of the constraints of working in a classroom

setting. A conference she had with James helps to illustrate this:

Emily meets with James to conference on his story entitled, “The Five
Headed Mummy. ” Emily reads the story quickly while she marks things
that she feels need to be corrected -- ofien supplying the corrections
herself. She also holds the paper throughout the conference.
Occasionally Emily asks him questions for clarification, like if his
brother knows that James has used his name in the story. He
occasionally responds to her questions, but most answers are mumbled.
About halfway through the story Emily stops and asks James about a
passage he has apparently crossed out. He tells her that it said, “The
mummy threw off his head and threw it.” She tells him that it is okay
with her to keep the sentence. She then turns to me and says, “We have
to have things appropriate for Hillside School, so they know that I edit
some of those things.”( observation, 2/15/95)

After the conference with James ended, Emily told me that she was glad

that James understood the issue of appropriateness. She went on to say that the

students could write about these things. They just could not publish them. She

did not want stories that were gory, bloody or contained lots of weapons. In our

follow up interview (2/15/95) that day Emily talked about her position on this

issue:

Emily: The gory stuff might be different than this not thing [a reference to
Tim’s use of “not” in his title] though. We kind of have a thing about
violence being published here at Hillside School. It’s not just me. In the
Publishing Center we had some big discussions about that.

Tony: The teachers?

Emily: It’s not appropriate to let kids publish stuff that we wouldn’t have
in the library. You just have to be sensitive that there are other kids who
are going to hear this story. They are some teachers in this building that
would let some things go through that I wouldn’t. I think I’m pretty
particular about violence. Like James today about a mummy taking his
head off. Well, I almost thought it was humorous because a mummy being
wrapped up and taking his head off. Now if he had said and the guts came
spilling out then I would have drawn the line.

Tony: But don’t you find it-here’s where I would have had a hard time.
When I worked with my kids I never was sure where I drew the line. You

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know there was not a hard and fast rule for them if there’s blood spilling
out, then you can’t do it. I sort of make that decision right on the spot,
and I was never sure.

Emily: Yeah, the way they describe it might be different or the
circumstances. Like I said, James didn’t go on and on and on with this.
And we’ve had a discussion in the classroom about the Scary Stories
business because a lot of the kids really like those and I don’t allow it in
the room. Because I can’t even believe the stuff that’s in them. I have
two copies on my shelf that I keep on my shelf and I would never put them
on the shelf in my room. They’re in the library though. We had talk one
day and said they were really bothered by them-you know they had
nightmares for a week. And then there were some kids that said -- “Oh
there’s nothing wrong with those stories.” So the kids themselves among
them have differences just like adults. I say hey if they want to read it, let
them read it. But I don’t have to have published stories in my room
coming out that they are going to sit down and read to a whole group of
kids who some might have a real problem with that. So, I do, if they want
to write it in their journals, I don’t care. And I’ll read it. But that’s not
being published. But there are times where you sit there and go, shoot.
Should I say this one can go through, or not. A lot of times last year, I had
a bunch of boys who were into violence.

 

Tony: See, that was the problem I had.

Emily: See, this year I haven’t had any problems at all. Now at the
beginning of the year we have a violence talk. And we talk about all that
stuff. This year I haven’t had that. Last year and usually I do have one or
two kids who are really into violence and so what I would do I would
underline the sentences that I had a problem we had conferenced the story
I would go back and say I had a real problem with this area. If you want
to publish this story in here you have to change it, remove it, do something
to it.

Tony: Yeah.

Emily: You know the words that really bother me, “Shooting them up,
stabbing them in the back”. But there have been times where they’ll go
well, can I do this? And I’ll go I don’t know.

Tony: But that’s my question.

Emily: There are some inconsistencies. But that’s okay.

Emily encouraged her students to write about any topics of their choice,

but she also had to balance her understandings of the context in which she

1 17
worked -- in this case the expectations of the school’s Publishing Center. Her
struggle was complicated by the fact that the guidelines of the Publishing Center
were not clear. The guidelines that Emily gave me contained no mention of issues
of violence or other thematic concerns. Emily had to discern these things for
herself based on such vague criteria as what would be appropriate in the school’ 3
library -- another far from clear issue. She often responded by striking a sort of
compromise between positions: Students could write about topics of their choice,
but they could not necessarily publish them.

Emily also had to pay attention to her personal history based role as editor
and publisher in these on-line interactions around appropriate content or
language -- a further complicating factor. Recall again her experiences with Tim
around his use of the word “not” in the title of his story about the trout. The
use of slang was not acceptable:

Tony: I’m very curious about how you really think about this. It was very

clear to me in watching this, even in your initial reaction, that you didn’t

like it, and he was going to change it. And that’s not a criticism.

Emily: No, I know. I guess I’ve really never given it a whole lot .of

thought. It’s just something, like I said in journal writing and their papers,

I’ll just kind of chuckle. I think it probably came up because I can .

remember a few years ago when all this “not” stuff started. I saw It In .

everything. Everything. Their language all day long. You don’t hear It as

much anymore and they’re not using it as much anymore in their wntrng. I

think probably when it came up it was just, maybe it was the Simpsons and

I knew it then. I don’t even know now. I just think it’s stupid. I don’t .

know. I don’t look at it as if it were a dialogue. It’s not. It’s being copied

from a TV character and to me that’s not their natural language. It’s just
their slang at the moment. If it weren’t a published story I’d probably say,
hey whatever. If it’s a published story, I don’t want it in there.

Tony: So what does that say about your vision of published stories?

Emily: Well, I mean, well not letting some of their natural language come in

if that’s how they treat it. Tim doesn’t truly talk that way. You know_
maybe it’ll catch a laugh or something. Maybe that’s what he’s thinking.

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I don’t know. I guess there are times when that stuff is okay. (interview,

2/15/95)

As she talked about her work with Tim, Emily exposed her own struggle with
what was and wasn’t acceptable in terms of language use and story content.
Paying attention to her personal history brought this issue to her attention. As
she acted from her role as classroom editor and publisher she ultimately got the
change she felt comfortable with —- but it wasn’t necessarily all that comfortable.
Emily was not certain about her moves, as evidenced by her final comments: “I
don’t know. I guess there are times when that stuff is okay.” Trying to honor
the principles of process writing that she was attempting to enact, while
simultaneously paying attention to understandings and beliefs from her personal
history, made Emily’s on-line decision making efforts a slippery slope for her. She
was bound by her honest attempts to enact an assumption of process writing that
suggested that she could really give children such wide open choices in a
classroom context with competing demands.

Emily’s genuine efforts also unknowingly created a learning bind for the
students in her classroom. It was not possible for them to know with any great
certainty what might be acceptable text and language. Somehow James had to
determine if his text about the decapitated mummy would be considered
humorous or inappropriate. Tim had to figure out if the use of such words as
“not” in his title would be acceptable or make his work unpublishable as written.
These were tricky maneuvers for the students in Emily’ s class -- as they were for
Emily herself. Emily did attempt to provide clarification. For example, she
reported that they had talked about the appropriateness of the content of such

professionally published texts as the Scary Stories series. I did not observe this

 

 

I!

 

1 19
class conversation. Despite her efforts, it was apparent in their work together that

her students were not clear about these issues. Emily herself recognized the
apparent “inconsistencies” in her moves -- and she struggled with them. Like
Emily, her students were caught in a learning bind. They could not clearly
determine what was and was not appropriate content or language and this may
have restricted their writing efforts -- and ultimately their learning opportunities.

Although Emily did not make this connection during our interview, I have
since wondered if this learning bind for students resulted in stories that were very
“safe” in her classroom -— or as Emily called them, “boring”:

...They really are needing some fresh ideas. A lot of that is winter blahs.

But, I’ve been reading some of those stories for conferencing and they’re

like, Missy’s story [about her family]. Me and my mom and dad go fishing.

Me and my mom and dad go roller skating. Me and my mom and dad go.

I’m thinking, what is going on with, these stories are just boring.

(interview, 2/8/95)
Publishing was a goal that Emily had for students in her classroom. Students
could never be absolutely certain what would be acceptable content for
publishing, but like James, they may have simply taken the safe way and avoided
topics that could be deemed unacceptable. Thus the learning bind they found
themselves in served to compromise their opportunities for learning.

Summary

Many of Emily Grew’s off-line decisions were guided by her attention to
process writing theory. It guided her efforts to organize the layout of her room as
well as the schedule and inclusion of various process writing routines. As Emily
enacted these routines her on-line decision—making was guided by her attention

to other things. I have argued that Emily paid attention to six considerations

around two categories: contextual and instructional.

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Exploring what Emily paid attention to as she encountered the uncertainty

inherent to one on one dialogue with students about their writing suggested that
in on-line interactions she was referencing bases of knowledge embedded in her
experiences, not in process writing theory. AS she referenced these bases of
knowledge, they provided her with a way to frame events and move in the
moment. This framing provided reasonable and sensible ways for her to construct
her practice -- and also served as a point for noting the limitations of process
writing theory in guiding on-line decision-making.

The result was the Emily Grew version of process writing. In its invention
she was helped in some ways by her professional development experiences -- but
this assistance was primarily of the technical variety. Emily did not report finding,
in professional development experiences, a mechanism or opportunities for
juxtaposing her own beliefs about practice, rooted in her experience knowledge
bases, with the tenets of process writing theory. She was not aided to see the
potential tensions which existed between her on-line decisions about how to
deploy process writing routines and the theory upon which they were
established. Her professional development opportunities were not of an on-going
or sustained variety. As a result, Emily was not aware of learning binds that
resulted from her moves.

Finally, Emily Grew’s on-line decision-making demonstrates an image of
teacher thinking that is complex and moves beyond technical models. Given this
image of teacher decision-making, the bases of knowledge that accompany it, and
the resulting learning binds -- there are many questions and implications for the
larger field of teacher education and research. I now turn my attention to these

issues.

Chapter 6

ON-LINE DECISION-MAKIN G:
LESSONS FROM THE CASE OF EMILY

During her eight years as a classroom teacher, Emily Grew worked hard to
enact and sustain a process writing approach to classroom writing instruction.
Throughout this study she talked about her commitment to this approach and her
classroom included many of the features of a such a stance toward writing
instruction. As a teacher dedicated to enacting a process writing approach, Emily
presented herself as a rich portrait of a teacher involved with numerous
opportunities for decision-making in on-line interactions.

As I watched Emily’s on-line interactions and decision—making throughout
the year in which this study occurred, I noted that her moves in these interactions
were guided by her attention to contextual and instructional considerations. As
Emily noticed these considerations she referenced bases of knowledge that were
tied to experience -- not simply the principles and practices of process writing
theory. In this manner she created the Emily Grew version of process writing. I
also noted that as Emily worked to enact her version of process writing, she
reported few and limited professional development opportunities -- and various
learning binds were unintentionally and unconsciously created. These had the
potential for constraining learning opportunities for Emily and her students.

Both her referencing of knowledge bases rooted in experience and the

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subsequent development of learning binds provide important questions and

insights for teacher educators.

In this chapter I will explore the implications of this study of Emily’s on-
line decision-making -- her attention to instructional and contextual
considerations, her referencing of knowledge bases and the resulting learning
binds. I will begin with a brief discussion of the learning binds themselves.

Given the vantage point of learning binds, I will discuss Emily’s work in
relation to the contemporary image of a teacher as a dilemma manager. I will
suggest that this portrait fails to consider fully the complexity and unconscious
nature of teacher thinking demonstrated by the case of Emily. Next, I will note
the specific vulnerabilities of the process writing reform effort -- given its
assumptions about teachers and their work. Third, I will suggest that this case
represents an important and rare opportunity to raise questions about decision-
making and its relationship to professional development. Throughout this
discussion I will examine questions and implications of this work for teacher
educators.

Finally, I will briefly address the implications of this study for future
research efforts. I will suggest that Emily represents an image of teachers and their
thinking that is diverse and complex. I will propose that Emily exemplifies the
need for an image of teachers that takes into account the complexity of teacher
decision-making which references multiple knowledge bases. I will also raise
questions about research efforts that can explore the role of teachers in
professional development, as well as efforts that continue to examine the role of

theory in teachers’ lives and work.

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Learning Binds As a Point of Reference

In the analysis of this study provided in chapter five, I discussed the
creation of learning binds for Emily and her students. These resulted from the
tension between how theory guided Emily in the establishment of routines and
how her personal history guided her in enacting them. The data indicate that
their creation and existence were unconscious for Emily. In this study they serve
as a kind of marker for the limitations of theory in guiding on-line decision-
making. In this chapter I will use them as unique reference points for discussing
the images of teachers. I will also use them to discuss the assumptions of process
writing theory that endeavor to guide teachers’ work -- as well as decision-
making and its relationship to professional development.

Imgggof Teachers and Decision-Making: The Need for Conscious Awareness

Given the unconscious creation and existence of learning binds, the
resulting image of teachers and their work is complex. As I began to frame this
study, I wondered about the images of teachers and their attendant implications
for teacher thinking. One image that seemed to hold potential for representing
teacher’ s life in classrooms, as well as their intellectual work was Lampert’ s
(1985) notions about teachers as “dilemma managers.” In her representation
Lampert presented the teacher as “an active negotiator, a broker of sorts,
balancing a variety of interests that need to be satisfied in classrooms (p. 190).”
And indeed some of Emily’ 8 work appeared to fit this conceptualization. Emily
consciously dealt with the shifting demands of behavioral problems, classroom
management, and other such concerns as she interacted with students throughout
the day. However, as I came to better understand the decisions Emily

constructed in the moment I began to see that this image did not adequately

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represent the nature or complexity of Emily’ s mental work in on-line interactions

-- one that understands and acknowledges the unconscious influence of
knowledge bases and learning binds.

Emily’ s on-line interactions did demonstrate her need to consider and
manage competing demands. However, the image of a dilemma manager requires
at least some conscious awareness of the demands to be managed. Observations
of Emily’ s on-line decision-making, and discussions with Emily about them,
indicated little conscious awareness of the competing demands placed on her by
attention to the instructional and contextual considerations which directed her
moves -- as they occurred in those moments. The instantaneous demands of on-
line interactions provided precious little time to pause and consider the
possibilities. Her actions occurred in a more or less reflexive way.

Even more important for the implications of this study was the
unconscious creation of learning binds that had potential for limiting learning
opportunities for Emily and her students. These binds emerged as Emily’s moves,
guided by her attention to instructional and contextual considerations,
intersected with her attempts to implement process writing theory based routines
-- leaving the potential for limiting learning opportunities unchecked. Emily
lacked opportunities to know that her moves in any one direction had
consequences in another -- or at the very least, what those consequences might
be.

When Emily decided that Tim could not use the word “not” in the title of
his story, her decision emanated from knowledge bases rooted in her personal
history. She attended to contextual considerations that She understood to be

unapproving of such language choices and an image of her role as teacher that

 

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gave her the authority to ask for the change. All represented real demands for

Emily’s attention. Simultaneously Emily sought to enact a tenet of process
writing theory that asked her to give children free reign over use of their own
language and other content issues. As these influences intersected in the
moment, Emily was forced to shift among them -- something she was not
conscious of doing in that moment. Process writing theory did not guide her
moves -- her own relevant experiences did. Emily also could not have known
that her moves as she attended to these factors had unwittingly created a learning
bind that may have limited Tim’ s learning potential -- as well as that of other
students in her classroom.

Exploring the creation of this learning bind helps to illustrate the
complexity of teachers’ mental work -- a complexity that is not adequately
addressed by the image of teachers as dilemma managers. As she made on-line
decisions, Emily did not present herself as a teacher who could have been
consciously juggling “dilemmas” in the moment. The unconscious nature of on-
line decisions did not reference process writing theory. Rather, these decisions
referenced frames that were based on her history, her experiences, and contextual
considerations. As such, Emily’s thinking demonstrates the need for an image of
teachers that more fully captures the complexity of teacher thinking and decision-
making. I will return to this issue of images of teachers and their work later in this
chapter.

Next I will explore the assumptions that process writing itself makes about
teachers and their work -- assumptions that are problematic for teachers

attempting to enact this theory.

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Process Writing: Assumptions About Teachers and Their Work

As I began this study I Was a strong advocate for the process writing
approach for classroom writing instruction. I continue to support it, but do so
with some qualifications. As I studied Emily’s on-line decision-making and its
implications for her work, I began to understand that this method she was
committed to held assumptions that made its enactment for teachers like Emily
perilous at best and filled with the potential for creating learning binds.
Discussing this study without addressing these concerns and their implications
for teacher educators would leave it incomplete.

First I will discuss assumptions process writing advocates make about the
contexts of school settings. Second I will consider the use of real world
metaphors and their application to school settings. Finally, I will note
assumptions advocates may hold about the skills and experiences of teachers and
the implication of these for teachers’ work. I note here that each of these issues
were briefly addressed in chapter five, but I address them here again to highlight
their implications for teacher educators.

Assumptions About Schools As Contexts

Professional development initiatives have often held up particular
pedagogy and philosophy as being ideal -- that successful teachers need only to
accept the philosophy and/or implement various procedures. Then practice will
change and professional development will have occurred. Emily’s attention to
contextual considerations in on-line decision-making precludes such a sentiment
that a wholesale adoption of method and philosophical understanding can or
even should occur. Emily was a teacher working in a particular context that

demanded her attention. Emily’s understandings of her context required a

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reinvention of what process writing advocates were promoting so that she could

attend to the particulars of her own context. Emily could not be Lucy Calkins or
Donald Graves at Hillside Elementary.

Emily believed that the parents of her students would only accept certain
kinds of student writing efforts. For example she felt that some forms of violence
and slang might not be acceptable in her community. When she encountered
these she attempted to deal with them by telling students that they could not
publish such efforts -- despite having encouraged them to select any topics. She
reported that she told them they could continue to write in these ways; they just
couldn’t publish them for others to see. As she found herself in these situations
she crafted moves that caused her to literally juggle the varying demands of
process writing advocates and of her context. Students were indeed able to write
about topics of their own choice in her classroom, but they were not able to share
these with others through publishing. As a result, a learning bind for Emily and
her students was created.

Lensmire (1994) also detailed a related assumption by process writing
advocates. He noted that advocates assume a romantic notion of children and
their writing efforts -- such that little attention has been paid to the real
possibilities that children can use their writing to attack each other. In addition,
the case of Emily demonstrates that, not only can children use their writing as
thinly veiled attacks upon each other, but they can also write in ways that are
difficult to manage in school settings where parental expectations about tone and

content are real concerns.

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The Use of Metaphors: Real World vs. Classroom Contexts

The case of Emily also helps us to understand that teacher educators need
to recognize and make clear for teachers the distinctions between real world
contexts and classroom contexts. Emily and her students worked in the unique
context of a classroom -— a place that required particular kinds of roles and
relationships. For example, as discussed earlier, in the case of process writing
there is a heavy reliance upon real world images of professionally published
writers and the processes they undergo. Given Emily’s confidence in her own
facility with writing skills -- grammar and mechanics -- coupled with her
preference for teacher centered and led instruction, it was easy for her to
overextend (and perhaps even misinterpret) the process writing metaphors and to
create a classroom role for herself as editor and publisher. This role reflected her
personal history demands, her perceptions of the needs of her context and the
metaphorical images of process writing.

But, such an image did not ultimately serve Emily well. Emily was not
really a professional editor and her relationships with students were not that of
professional writers and editors. Emily’s interpretation and uninterrupted use of
real world metaphors for the creation of her own classroom interactions and
decision-making created learning binds that she was not able to recognize and
that worked against her intentions for classroom writing instruction -- even
without her knowing it.

Process writing advocates fail to recognize -— or at least acknowledge ——
the potential weakness of this metaphor for the relationships and roles of teachers
and students in classroom settings. This may be because they do not see this

weakness or because they actually believe that this metaphor is an apt one.

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Teacher educators need to be cognizant of the pitfalls of the use of such

metaphors in describing teachers’ work -- but they must also be prepared to help
the teachers they work with in recognizing it.
Assumptions About Teacher Skills

Observing Emily’s on-line decision-making also suggests a need for
professional development efforts that give careful attention to the needs of
teachers in terms of their personally held beliefs about their own facility with
areas in which they are to engage children. Process writing advocates make an
assumption that teachers like Emily have certain writing capacities and they do
little to support them when they do not.

In particular process writing advocates base their work on an assumption
that teachers consider their writing to be good in terms of creative content and
that they also have the capacity to transfer these understandings as they teach.
Florio-Ruane (1991) noted a related assumption that because teachers have
facility with writing that they are also capable of teaching writing -- “twin crafts”
that advocates seem to presume go hand in hand. But what if teachers
themselves do not share a confidence in their abilities with writing? How can
they be expected to teach what they don’t feel they know about writing when it
is questionable whether or not they can teach one side of these “twin crafts?”
The case of Emily demonstrates that these assumptions are perilous for teachers
and may force them to move in ways that make their work difficult at best.

Emily reported that she did not consider her writing to be good writing in
terms of creativity of content. Rather, she believed that her strength rested in her
ability to produce mechanically accurate text -- a reference to her personal

history. In the absence of a sense of confidence in her abilities creatively, Emily

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appeared to have replaced creativity with skills work -- something she believed to

be important. And again, a learning bind for Emily and her students was an
unintended result.

Teachers’ beliefs about their own capacities —- tied to the personal
experience knowledge bases that guide their moves -- must be taken into
account when considering how best to facilitate and support their professional
development efforts. If Emily is a true reflection of teachers, then all teachers
bring individual and varied capabilities to their tasks. Emily illustrates how their
perceptions of their own capacities may influence their own learning
opportunities. She may also illustrate how those perceptions direct their on-line
decision-making and moves in ways that either support or diminish learning
opportunities for their students through the creation of learning binds. In
addition, the assumptions about Emily or any teacher’ s capabilities in a given area
remain just that, assumptions -- and often inaccurate ones, as long as they go
unexplored in professional development efforts. This may be particularly true if
those professional development opportunities consist of the one shot workshop
variety.

Given these assumptions embedded in a process writing approach to
writing instruction, advocates may be asking teachers to strive for untenable
goals. Without greater consideration of such issues as the context within which
teachers work, the metaphors which represent those contexts and the need for
supporting the capacities that teachers bring to their work, process writing
advocates run the risk of missing the very people they intend to help -- teachers

and their students.

 

..1..AJ

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Beyond consideration of the potential complexities of assumptions which

underlie process writing theory, teacher educators must also be concerned with
the nature of professional development activities that are designed to assist
teachers in their attempts to enact such theory. This study raises questions about
what might constitute such professional development activities. I will consider
these questions next.
Teacher Decision-Making and
the Impact of Professional Development

As illustrated by the case of Emily, an important finding of this study is that
Emily did not reference process writing theory as she attempted to engage in on-
line decision-making with her students around their writing efforts. Theory
served as a reference point for off-line decisions, such as establishing routines.
However, besides issues of context, on-line decisions were framed by references
to considerations that were largely outside of consciousness -- models created by
her history and experiences.

In this section I will discuss how professional development efforts target
off-line decision-making, but typically miss having an impact over the on-line
thinking that references history and experiences. I will then suggest that to allow
for theory as a referent in on-line decision-making, it must become a part of the
internal conversation a teacher has when engaged in on-line decision-making.
This internal dialogue would allow for theory to enter into it as experience -- by
juxtaposing knowledge bases and intentions from theory.

Professional Development and Decision-Making
Professional development efforts have done little to recognize and assist

teachers in exploring the knowledge bases they reference in their on-line

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decision-making efforts (Guskey, 1986). As these were discussed by Emily, they

were aimed at assisting her off-line decision-making -- namely the technical
aspects of the implementation of process writing theory. To illustrate this I will
briefly outline Emily’ 3 professional development, based on her discussion of it.

I note here that I did not collect first hand data, attend inservices with
Emily, or in any way check her self reports. What I present here is Emily’s story --
one that included professional development episodes. What follows is my
analysis of Emily’ s interpretation of these events.

Emily as a Case in Point

Emily was introduced to process writing during her teacher training
experiences at the undergraduate level. These efforts she dismissed as being too
“eclectic” to be of much help to her. She said that she began to understand this
approach as she began using it in her own classroom, as well as with some
continued bits of exposure through her masters level coursework. Her interest
continued through eight years of work as a classroom teacher -- including the
year in which this study was conducted.

As Emily talked about her professional development activities, the
workshops conducted by advocate Ruth Nathan were frequently cited -- as were
her readings of a book co-authored by Nathan. The workshops were held during
the first few years of Emily’s attempts to forge and enact her understandings of
the process approach. Emily placed great value on them as she reported that they
helped her consider management of her classroom efforts. The text written by
Nathan was credited for the same benefits -- management ideas and tools.

Because the workshops occurred long before the beginning of this study, I was

 

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not able to assess their content, but it was clear from Emily’ s talk that their value

for her rested in their ability to organize her attempts at enactment.

Emily frequently connected features of her classroom to the worksh0ps
she attended and the text Nathan had co-authored. For example she cited
Nathan as the source for such classroom text sharing activities as the “memorable
and more sessions” and the “journey sheets” she constructed that guided her
students through the stages of the writing process. What Emily seemed to take
away from these encounters was a technical view of the implementation of

classroom writing instruction.

 

Decision-Making as a Technical Skill

Far removed from direct contact with advocate Ruth Nathan, Emily’s
moves belied a view of the enactment of process writing at least partially as a
series of technical moves. Kennedy (1987) described such moves as “expertise
as technical skill” and suggested that “teacher education has a particularly
strong history of efforts to define teaching expertise on the basis of the technical
tasks of teaching” (p.2).

As I observed Emily’s on-line decision-making efforts I noted that her
moves sometimes appeared to be scripted -- as though she was moving in an
almost methodical and prescribed way. This surprised me. For example, I knew
that Emily frequently had not seen the children’s texts before meeting with them
to discuss them. Students generally placed their writing efforts into a basket or
brought them up with them when they were prepared for a conference. Yet these
conferences often had an almost set structure -- correcting mechanical errors or
such things as spelling. Students also seemed to understand these procedures as

they showed no surprise by the direction of these conferences.

 

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One explanation for Emily’s conduct in these conferences may have been

the influence of her professional development activities -- as she understood
them. As she searched for ways to manage conferences, Emily may have
developed a kind of superscript that guided her moves and provided routines for
her interactions with students -- resulting in a kind of technical model for her
work with students that might have contributed to the creation of learning binds
(Jennings, 1991).

As illustrated by the case of Emily, theory is a point of reference for off-line

decision-making. Such decision-making is easily aided by professional

 

development efforts that target them -- but this may also entail a cost: allowing for
teachers’ work to be seen as merely technical. However, integrating theory with
on-line decision-making requires an understanding of, and ability to engage with,
the dialogic nature of decisions that reference personal history and experiences in
the moment. For theory to become a reference point in on-line decision-making it
must become a part of the internal dialogue or frame making mechanism that
actually guides on-line interactions.
On-Line Decision-Making as Internal Conversation

When teachers like Emily are engaged in efforts to enact theory their
efforts often reflect a lonely, lopsided, and primarily internal conversation with
themselves. Emily did not have opportunities to talk with knowledgeable others
about the work she was attempting to do -- something she lamented when talking
about how she had to do it all on her own and did not have a mentor (interview,
1/26/94). From her encounters with Ruth Nathan, Emily talked only about taking
away classroom management ideas. In these encounters she did not find a

mechanism that would provide her with an opportunity to unearth and examine

 

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the knowledge bases that directed her moves in on-line interactions -- or the

attendant potential for learning binds.
Decision-Makingin Isolation

Emily reported on the isolation of her work with classroom writing
instruction. She herself recognized the potential benefits of another voice to aid
her in her efforts to create understandings about her work with her students. She
lamented the fact that she did not have a mentor in her work -- as contrasted with
a colleague whose principal served in this role. Emily often talked about how our
conversations during the course of this study were helpful to her. She mentioned
that she would often reflect on our talk about her work long after the actual
conversation had ceased and how she found this to be helpful to her in
examining her own practice and practice related issues. The case of Tim was an
example. We talked about her views about his use of slang during one post
observation interview. During that conversation we explored her reasoning for
this action and the potential implications for Tim and other students in the
classroom. The next day Emily reported that she had spent a great deal of time
reflecting on our conversation and then returned to this issue again as a topic for
further discussion. On other occasions Emily talked about how our
conversations had been helpful to her in examining both her practice and her
rationales for various moves. She reported that she would do some things
differently in the future -- although she did not elaborate on what these might be.
In fact, Emily indicated that she was interested in participating in this study
because she thought that our work together might help her to think about her

own work more carefully.

 

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This was not a study of mentoring relationships with teachers.

Consequently I did not promote such a relationship or seek to encourage it
beyond the boundaries of our conversations around Emily’s writing instructional
efforts. That Emily continued to seek such a relationship and talked about how
she benefited from our incidentally related conversations suggested her felt need
for such a relationship -- something she was not afforded in her professional
development activities or her day to day professional life.
Entering the Internal Conversation

Others have recognized the need for and benefits of entering into the
teacher’ 8 internal conversations -- something Emily talked about experiencing I ,
only as a by-product of our work together. Holt-Reynold’s (1990) suggests that
undergraduate teacher candidates have internal conversations between their
images of themselves as students and their images of themselves as teacher.
These conversations are impeded by the inability of students to envision a more
multi-dimensional characterization of the teacher role. She urges teacher
educators to interrupt this conversation and in the process to broaden it -- and
ultimately allow students to begin to see the teacher role with an insider’ s
perspective. Key to this process is the teacher educator’s role in interrupting or
joining the student’s internal conversation. SchOn (1987) also suggests the need
for sustained conversations with a skilled other that interrupt the complex and
internal conversations of professionals and that ultimately promote a
professional’ 3 ability for reflection-in-action.

These conversations have the potential for unearthing the knowledge
bases rooted in personal history and experience that teachers reference in their

on-line decision-making and to provide occasions for placing them next to new i

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ideas. It is important to note here that the point of this juxtaposing would not be

to ask teachers to simply adopt the principles and practices promoted by process
writing advocates, or any others for that matter -- something which could hardly
be done even if it were desirable. Rather, the intent would be to bring
knowledge bases, and their intersection with attempts to enact principles and
practices, to the surface to provide opportunities for new leamings referenced to
theory -- as well as providing an occasion for the potential for examining learning
binds in a conscious fashion.

Since personal experiences are a reference point for on—line decision-
making, theory must enter internal conversations as experience -- something
accomplished by explicitly juxtaposing knowledge bases and intentions from
theory.

Juxtaposing Knowledge Bases and Theory

The case of Emily illustrates the need for explicit juxtaposing of
knowledge bases and theory -- as a way to allow theory, as experience, to enter
into the internal conversations that frame on-line decision-making. Emily’ s own
experiences were at odds with the theory she was attempting to embrace.
Without opportunities to place framing mechanisms from her own experiences
besides the intentions of process writing theory, she would be unable to
consciously examine her own thinking and learning. However, explicit
juxtaposition would allow experience to incorporate theory.

What is needed is the opportunity for teachers to develop a mechanism
that allows them to bring their own knowledge bases to surface awareness. It
must then allow them to juxtapose their own understandings and their roots with

their intentions to create new ways of thinking about teaching and learning.

 

 

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This kind of professional development calls for the need for sustained and long

term conversations that give practicing teachers on—going opportunities for
constructing and reconstructing their understandings -- something Emily did not
report having.

A meaningful professional development activity for Emily would have
been one in which she might have been engaged with a skilled other who could
interrupt, help her to reflect on, and perhaps even allow her to alter her internal
conversation -- or at the least help her to gain a greater awareness of her personal
history orientation. Such a professional development activity would need to
provide long term support for her uniquely constructed efforts, as well as safe
challenges to her thinking. Although my work with Emily did not set out to do
this, she showed a willingness and capacity to enter into this type of relationship
and to benefit from it. Indeed, her talk about the need for a mentoring
relationship confirmed this.

Finally, I will briefly address the questions that this study has raised for
future research efforts.

From the Case of Emily:
Questions for Future Research

As is often the case in studies of this kind, some questions were not
completely answered in this work. In addition, as the leamings from this study
became clear other questions presented themselves for further investigation. In
this section I will briefly identify some issues for further exploration indicated by
this study.

I begin by returning to the one of the issues that framed this exploration of

teacher on-line decision-making: images of teachers and their attendant notions

 

 

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about teacher thinking. This study adds to our understandings of the need for a

more complex image of teachers and their thinking. It suggests, but does not
conclusively determine how such teachers might best be served by professional
development efforts.

Emily Grew’ s on-line decision-making clearly did not reflect an image of
the teacher as technician -- or more specifically the attendant notions of teacher
thinking that accompany such an image. Despite professional development
experiences that promoted a teacher as technician image, Emily’s thinking and
on-line decision-making were far more fluid. Even when Emily talked about
management issues that she had learned about from process writing advocate - .-
Ruth Nathan, she reported that she had changed these to fit her own beliefs
about children and writing instruction. Emily did not simply accept and act out
the teachings of process writing advocates -— something that might be expected
given a technical image of teachers and their thinking. Rather, Emily’s on-line
decision-making showed a more complex, albeit unconscious, sorting, accepting
and rejecting of potential moves she could make given the competing
considerations and knowledge bases that guided her moves.

As has already been discussed, the more contemporary image of teachers
as dilemma managers holds more promise, but does not fully capture the
unconscious nature of the referencing of knowledge bases constructed via
personal history that Emily demonstrates. A broader image is needed.

Emily’ s decision-making was perhaps more closely aligned with the
potential of SchOn’s (1983, 1987) conceptions of the reflective practitioner -- a
view that is constructivist in nature. As Emily frequently interacted with students

in the moment she faced what SchOn refers to as “uncertainty, uniqueness and

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conflict.” In the moment she constructed a unique response —- each a curious and

complex mixing of understandings akin to what SchOn refers to as “artistry.”
This study suggests that this construction is partially accomplished through the
use of various instructional and contextual considerations. It will be important to
explore these considerations further in future efforts -— both to see if these remain
constant and to see if others are employed by teachers in their on-line decision—
making. In addition, it would be important to determine if these considerations
are consistent in contexts other than process writing instruction.

Given the image of a reflective practitioner, SchOn (1987) argues for a
practicum of coaching with a skilled other that allows professionals to learn as
they act, in a kind of mutual reflection-in-action -- the thinking which “serves to
reshape what we are doing while we are doing it (p. 26).” As a practicing teacher,
Emily would have benefited from a similar arrangement in which she would have
been able to think with a knowledgeable other about her moves and ultimately
the knowledge bases which impacted her on-line interactions. Evidence of this
existed in the multiple occasions when Emily told me that our conversations
around her work helped her and/or caused her to rethink her on-line moves and
the basis for them. In addition, with such arrangements Emily might have been
given opportunities to see, explore, and potentially respond to the learning binds
which sometimes unknowingly resulted from her moves. This study supports the
need for continued study of such arrangements in educational contexts —- both to
confirm their efficacy and to determine workable models.

The study of Emily also supports recent conversations that suggest that
teachers be viewed as learners themselves -- individuals who bring diverse

dispositions to the learning situation (Spillane & Jennings, 1994). Teachers do

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not come to on-line interactions with a blank slate. Rather, they bring with them

a rich composition of beliefs and perceptions that are rooted in various
knowledge bases. This composition, coupled with the constructions they
develop in response to learners and the learning context, result in a far more
complex image of teachers and their work. But for teachers like Emily, this
complexity is often left, at best, as an untapped resource for professional
development -- and as a repository for unwittingly creating learning binds at the
least. Consequently, this study suggests that further work needs to be done to
explore and address this issue by teacher educators. How can we account for
individual differences, bring them to surface understanding and juxtapose them
with new leamings -- thus allowing experience to incorporate theory and
advancing the potential for recognizing potential learning binds?

What Emily herself reported was a need for conversations with a skilled
other. These conversations could have served as professional development for
Emily that would help to bring to conscious awareness the influences of her own
unconscious knowledge bases -- thus allowing her to view her moves in a new
light and perhaps to more consciously consider her on-line decision-making and
its ramifications for teaching and learning in her classroom.

Understanding teacher thinking as highly complex, when it occurs in the
moments when learning is the goal, underscores a need for long term professional
development efforts. Such efforts need to be both supportive and challenging of
moves that reference teachers’ knowledge bases that are rooted in personal
history. They need to allow for a conscious consideration of moves -- as well as

the critical examination of potential learning binds.

 

142
One other related consideration needs to be addressed in further studies of

this nature. This is how to address the nature and impact of events which
occurred long before the study commenced. For example, discussing Emily’ 3
professional development activities -- which occurred long before this study
began -- I was reliant primarily upon her reports of these events. Although these
reports concurred with what is know in the literature about such events, it would
be helpful to have first hand reports -- something that could perhaps be
accomplished through more long term studies.

Finally, the remaining question to be addressed is whether or not the
limitations of theory for guiding on-line decision-making can Or even should be
eliminated. Perhaps the combination of theory and personal history that was
demonstrated by Emily is actually helpful and should be a source for celebration.
This study argues for helping to bring this intersection to surface awareness
toward eliminating or at least reducing the learning binds that reduce
opportunities for teacher and student learning.

Summary

In the first few pages of this study I introduced my interest in the kind of
teacher decision-making that occurs within the context of the uncertainty
embedded in unpredictable interactions with students. I talked about my own
uncertainty as a teacher educator in addressing questions from preservice and
active teachers about what to do in those moments -- when lesson plans did not
seem to be helpful. As I explored the on-line decision-making of Emily Grew, I
returned often to my own struggle to answer questions from educators --
questions that began with, “What do you do when...?” I’ve Since discovered

that the answer to that question is far more complex and rich than I had imagined.

 

143
It can not be answered with simple prescriptions or anecdotes. Rather, it requires

going on a journey -- a journey that explores bases of knowledge rooted in
personal history and their unique fit with the task at hand -- a most complicated
and wonderful journey.

The kind of professional development that is suggested by this
examination of Emily’s moves in on-line interactions might best be characterized
as an attempt to distill rather than to filter her personal history related
understandings. Rather than allowing knowledge bases to sift through relatively
unexamined, it would condense them for more careful examination. It would
respect the contents of Emily’s knowledge bases, but also render them visible for

inspection and further deliberations.

APPENDICES

 

APPENDIX A

 

 

144

 

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APPENDIX C

 

158
APPENDIX C

TIM’S STORY: "The Big Brown - A True Story Not”

Once there was a big brown trout

who was 13 feet long.

He lived in Wabasis Lake.

I got him up to

the boat, but he snapped

the line. And I go there

everyday to try

to catch him again. And He

eats all the fish in the

lake soo people can’t fish

there, but they don’t know

that there is a big

13 foot fish in that lake.

But another thing is that

he eats battery acid. When he eats battery acid he grows. He came from
a ship in Germany. I heard

that the fish killed two people. Now

to tell you how I caught it....

I know his favorite bait is acid,

so I put it in a little jar.

Then I hooked it on and threw it in the water. Then I fell
asleep and then I was woken up

by a powerful tug. I fought it and I knew it was the Big Brown.
He is the only one who liked acid.

And I fought him for four

hours and then he gave up.

Then I brought him in and I noticed

he had grown. I measured him and he

was 18 feet long with 10 inch teeth and then I got
the biggest fish in the world!!

So that’s the story. So if

you use acid and get one fish on

your line it may be another big brown.

 

Note: Written as edited with Emily

 

 

APPENDIX D

 

159
APPENDIX D

THERESA’S STORY: “About my pets And family - Volume 1 and Volume 2”

I have 4 pets. A dog her name is

Heidi. Heidi is a German Shepherd.
Agueny pis. His/her name is Wimpers. A
bird, her name is Snowball. And 28 fish.
My dog had 22 puppys in all. My dog
loves to play she runs around are

bush. She plays with her puppy’s when
she has them. She loves people very
much. We used to have Pecoke Ealls.
My dog is 4 years old. I used to

have a dog named Coyl. I am sad

the my dog coyl is put to sleep. We got
him 11 years ago. We bring are

dog to Indian every year. I have

all kinds of fish. I really

like my dog. She is my favorite

animal. Heidi likes to bark. Kiyal

is half German Shepderd half huski.
The End

Volume (2)

About My family

I have 5 people in my family.

Mom, DaD, Kristen, Michelle, Theresa
thats me. Michelle is in 10th grade
and She is 15 years old. Kristen is

in 6th grade and is 12 years old. Me
Michelle and Kristen all get in a

sled and my dad gets on are tractor
and pull’s us all around are back yard.
But now we have more room because
we are moveing next store and there
is sand on the ground so we have
more room. My favorite book is
Goosebumps. My best friend is
maybe [name] I have alot

of best friends but I don’t want

to name all of them. We have a

new truck and it is Turcoise.

I really like it. I like haveing

friends over so duse my sisters.

The end

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