A week since ResearchEd and a plethora of blogs already. This is appropriate as ResearchEd evolved from, and remains part of, an ongoing conversation. It also felt unusually egalitarian and participatory. In many conferences, the aims are declared and the outcomes clearly defined (knowledge imparted, skills transferred, job done): here, we felt like fellow explorers, and it was as important to listen, learn and think as it was to contribute. In fact, knee-jerk, instinctive responses would have been inappropriate – beyond a big thank you to the organisers.
The simile which has dominated my thoughts is a climbing wall This came from a conversation this week with one of my children about their experience of climbing, but bear with me, I do think it might be useful:
- There is rarely just one route climbing a rock face. With the number of concurrent sessions at Research Ed, we each experienced a different conference. We found our own way through, using the speakers’ programme notes as hand- and footholds to find the sessions which we felt we could engage with best.
- There are some talented and nimble climbers who seem to run up a wall – and indeed, at Research Ed we had the privilege of hearing some phenomenally intelligent people. A nervous climber needs many solid, supportive points of contact, then moves cautiously, step by step: an experienced climber can judge a single point of contact to be a sufficient transit point and seems to leap forward. They have a better feel for the whole process and see how each hand/foothold is part of the route. Impressive as these human mountain goats are, however, it’s a participatory sport, no matter at what level or what pace. Doing it step by step is absolutely fine and it is how we learn.
- Finally – why a climbing wall and not an actual rock face? Have you seen the mobile climbing walls which are on one loop moving like an escalator? You never reach the top – it continuously loops round and is renewed. There is no end point and standing still is not an option: the only way to stay on is to keep going. As Laura McInerery inspiringly pointed out, that the frontiers are still open is a cause of celebration.
I was most intrigued by the issues of language which emerged through the sessions I attended. The lexicon we adopt from other professions may suggest (or impose) a model of which we need to be aware. We often recognise the restrictions of business speak, where everything is measured in outcomes and value added. The horrific logical result of this is that a student’s entire school career (sic) can be reduced to a series of exam grades, used to deliver a verdict not only on the student but also on the teacher and the school.
Frank Fuerdi was illuminating on the medical language which is seeping across. An “intervention” implicitly suggests that there is an illness or hurt – some sort of damage which needs to be mended. Is a child “educationally unhealthy” before they start their schooling? Compared with business-speak, however, I think the medical model is a closer and more helpful conceptual analogy, certainly in terms of research. I am a little biased here, I know, because my daughter is about to begin studying medicine at university next month. I am also influenced by the great Ben Goldacre’s Bad Pharma, which is a riveting insight into some of the issues associated with medical research & clinical trials. (It – and Bad Science – are also, by the way, jolly good reads). The nay-sayers to Education using Evidence Based Practice tend to use the caricature of a medical trial being the administration of a single tablet; five minutes of thought convinces that medicine can offer similar (not identical but parallel) complexities to many of the challenges in educational research. Lack of control over the context? Ethical concerns? Individuals with multiple, overlapping problems? Financial pressures? Impossible demands? Inconclusive evidence? A plethora of different treatments and strategies available? Pressure from sales people trying to sell us a miracle cure? Inconsistent results which seem to work with one person and not the other? The need for the professional on the front line – be it surgery or classroom – to be able to make wise choices as to the strengths and weaknesses of the tools they choose to use? The stakes for Medics are even higher: if a teacher makes a mistake, it’s rarely fatal. We should be honoured by the parallels which are evolving between education and medicine.
lesleyjonesberry 