5.15-7.00, in 1WN 3.8, Tuesday 22nd and Thursday 24th April 2008

After we have caught up with each others news and responded to any writings, ideas, books and articles you would like to share, I'd like to focus on some ideas about a narrative approach to your educational enquiries and other writings. 

A fundamental assumption I've been making in my tutoring on the masters programme is that we are either already expressing the embodied knowledge of a master or doctor educator and/or are developing this knowledge through our educational enquiries into improving our educational practices. I am thinking here of our educational enquiries into improving our educational influences in our own learning, in the learning of our pupils and others and in the learning of the social formations in which we live and work. 

Another assumption is that through educational enquiries of the kind, 'How do I improve what I am doing?' we can contribute to enhancements in our  educational influences in our own learning, the learning of our pupils, students and others and in the social formations in which we live and work. When I use the word 'practice' I am using it in the sense of what a person is doing as in the above question. I am not using it in the sense that a practice arises in response to the general demands of a societal need. I am not using practice as a historically developed and conditioned tradition of action for addressed a societally-formed need. Through conversations with my colleague Seth Chaiklin I have come to understand that this is one way in which 'practice' is conceptualised within a cultural-historical theoretical tradition. When I use practice I am not referring to a conceptual abstraction. I am referring to what is being done in enquiries of the kind, 'How do I improve what I am doing?' I am particularly interested in the educational influences of our professional practices as educators and in our explanations of these influences in our research narratives.

My reason for focusing on narrative research and enquiry is because I think your stories of your educational influences can make original and significant contributions to the knowledge-base of education and have a transformatory influence in the growth of your educational knowledge and that of your pupils/students.

As you know, my educational research programme since 1973 has focused on the generation and testing of educational theories. I put forward the idea that each one of us can create our own living educational theory as an explanation for our educational influences in our own learning, in the learning of others and in the learning of social formations. I put forward this idea of living educational theory (Whitehead, 1989) to distinguish the explanations individuals produce for their educational influences from the explanations derived from the abstract and propositional theories of disciplines of education such as the philosophy, psychology, history, sociology, economics, politics and theology of education.  I want to be clear about this distinction.  I am claiming that if you generate your own living educational theory in enquiries of the kind, 'How do I improve my practice?' then your explanations will be distinguishable from the explanations derived from any general theory and will be not reducible to such explanations.  I am claiming that your explanations of your educational influence may draw insights from the most advanced social and other theories of the day, but will not be reducible to their general explanations. This claim is open for us to question.

I like the way that Clandinin and Rosiek (2007) distinguish the explanations of narrative inquiry in terms of individual lived experience. I like the way they contrast these with explanations from explanations that privilege the macrosocial material conditions of life as the primary influence on human life and thinking. Here is a quote from Clandinin and Rosiek that I want us to study both to see if we understand their meanings and to see if their ideas have an educational influence in our own meanings:

"Although it may seem extremely abstract, understanding the ontological as opposed to epistemological starting point of Marxist-influenced social theory is necessary for understanding the style and content of this scholarship as well as its relationship with narrative inquiry. A mode of inquiry founded in epistemological commitments – such as positivism – takes accurate description of the world as its primary objective. Epistemic principles, in this case, determine the way the accuracy of research conclusions will be assessed. A mode of inquiry founded in ontological commitments – such as Marxism or critical theory – takes transformation of those ontological conditions as its primary objective. For the Marxist influenced scholar, research and analysis is an intervention that seeks to change the material conditions that underlie oppressive social conditions.

As remarked on earlier, narrative inquiry shares with Marxism an explicit grounding in ontological commitments as well as the goal of generating scholarship that transforms the ontological conditions of living. The difference between the two traditions of inquiry are located in the specifics of those commitments and their conceptions of intervention. Scholarship grounded in Marxism privileges the macrosocial material conditions of life as the primary influence on human life and thinking. The relational texture of everyday life, including the personal, religious, historical and cultural narratives that provide meaning to that life, are treated as derivative of the macrosocial conditions of life. Furthermore, these narratives are frequently considered obstacles to be overcome on the way to a more realistic understanding of the causes of human experience.

The narrative inquirer, by way of contrast, privileges individual lived experience as a source of insights useful not only to the person himself or herself but also to the wider field of social science scholarship generally. As described in the comparison to post-positivism, this approach to analyzing human experience is grounded in a pragmatic relational ontology. It takes the immediacy of lived experiences, specially its narrative qualities, as a fundamental reality to be examined and acted on. According to this view, all representations of experience – including representations of the macrosocial influences on that experience – ultimately arise from first-person lived experience and need to find their warrant in their influence on that experience." (Clandindin and Rosiek, 2007, pp. 49-50)

Part of my reason for highlighting the importance of the Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping a Methodology  (Clandinin, 2007) is that I think that it will help to develop an understanding of the methodology each one of us is creating in the course of our enquiries and that it can help us to show how we are making:

 "... critical use of literature, professional experience and, where appropriate, knowledge from other sources, to inform the focus and methodology of the study or enquiry." (An MA unit criterion used in the University of Bath)

 

In the 2007-8 e-seminar of the British Educational Research Association Practitioner-Researcher Special Interest Group one of the participants asked the question:

 

How do I break free from the traditional scholarship model as a Ph.D. student?

 

The question evoked some of the most appreciative and engaged responses of the e-seminar. I think it was because participants felt like me. I felt the questioner inviting me into me into an enquiry that really mattered to the questioner and resonated with my own interests.

 

I know that I have stressed the importance of asking good questions in your educational enquiries. Chapter Five of Collingwood's Autobiography on Question and Answer (published in 1939) is one of the most influential texts I've read. I continue to be influenced by his insight:

 

Whether a given proposition is true or false, significant or meaningless, depends on what question it was meant to answer; and any one who wishes to know whether a given proposition is true or false, significant or meaningless, must first find out what question is was meant to answer (Collingwood, 1991, p. 39)

This is why I place an emphasis on asking good questions. It is why I'm impressed with the quality of the questions/issues you are asking, researching and answering in your 'My/I' enquiries such as:

How have my experiences of Year 2 SAT's influenced my perceptions of assessment in teaching and learning?

Working within the framework of 'Personalised Learning' how can I ensure there is a real learning space for my pupils, where they feel involved in what they learn and how they learn it?

An educational response to how my involvement with the Gifted and Talented programme initiated by Bath and North east Somerset has made me re-assess my living values and beliefs, thus influencing my delivery and provision for the SEBD students with whom I work.

 

How can I enhance the eductional influence of my pupils in their own learning, that of other pupils, myself and the school?

 

How do I sustain a loving, receptively responsive educational relationship with my pupils which will motivate them in their learning and encourage me in my teaching?

 

In telling your stories as educational enquiries I'm wondering if you might find helpful ideas from Michael Watts' (2008) writings on Narrative Research, Narrative Capital and Narrative Capability. In contrast to mapping a methodology of narrative inquiry, Watts focuses on life history as having the potential to be 'an ideal methodology of resistance'. In engaging with the ideas of Watt's and liking his ideas of narrative research and narrative capability I want to be careful not to give the impression that I am accepting a social science view of educational research. I am thinking particularly of the idea proposed by Whitty (2005) for clarifying a distinction between education research and educational research that brings educational research as a 'narrower field of work' within education research:

One way of handling the distinction might be to use the terms 'education research' and 'educational research' more carefully. In this paper, I have so far used the broad term education research to characterise the whole field, but it may be that within that field we should reserve the term educational research for work that is consciously geared towards improving policy and practice..... One problem with this distinction between 'education research' as the broad term and 'educational research' as the narrower field of work specifically geared to the improvement of policy and practice is that it would mean that BERA, as the British Educational Research Association would have to change its name or be seen as only involved with the latter. So trying to make the distinction clearer would also involve BERA in a re-branding exercise which may not necessarily bet the best way of spending our time and resources. But it is at least worth considering. (Whitty, 2005, p. 172-173)

What I shall do as I engage with the ideas of Watts in the quotations below, is to show how a living educational theory (McNiff, 2007) can be generated through narrative. I shall show how living theory can be generated with insights from disciplines of education, such as the sociology of education, without being seen as the 'narrower field of work' or indeed as being defined as a form of social science research. 

You will see that Watts refers to the work of Amartya Sen, a nobel prize winning economist.  Given the influence that economics has on education and on what is possible in terms of resources within a given social formation, I do think that it is important to recognize the importance of our understandings of these influences in our living educational theories.

Here is how Sen (1999) distinguishes his economic theory of human capability from an economic theory of human capital:

"... what, we may ask, is the connection between "human capital" orientation and the emphasis on "human capability" with which this study has been much concerned? Both seem to place humanity at the center of attention, but do they have differences as well as some congruence? At the risk of some oversimplification, it can be said that the litera­ture on human capital tends to concentrate on the agency of human beings in augmenting production possibilities. The perspective of human capability focuses, on the other hand, on the ability‑the sub­stantive freedom‑of people to lead the lives they have reason to value and to enhance the real choices they have. The two perspectives cannot but be related, since both are concerned with the role of human beings, and in particular with the actual abilities that they achieve and acquire. But the yardstick of assessment concentrates on different achievements.

 

Given her personal characteristics, social background, economic circumstances and so on, a person has the ability to do (or be) certain things that she has reason to value. The reason for valuation can be direct (the functioning involved may directly enrich her life, such as being well‑nourished or being healthy), or indirect (the functioning involved may contribute to further production, or command a price in the market). The human capital perspective can‑in principle‑be defined very broadly to cover both types of valuation, but it is typi­cally defined‑by convention‑primarily in terms of indirect value: human qualities that can be employed as "capital" in production (in the way physical capital is). In this sense, the narrower view of the human capital approach fits into the more inclusive perspective of human capability, which can cover both direct and indirect conse­quences of human abilities." (p. 293)

 

Here are the ideas from Watts on narrative research, narrative capital and narrative capability that I would like us to study in relation to their educational influence in our own learning. I am also interested in their educational influences as we continue to research to enhance our educational influences in the learning of our pupils/students and others.

 

 "Life history research resonates with issues of discourse, power and resistance. By filling in the spaces between statistical numbers with the lived experiences of those who have been disempowered by hegemonic discourses, life history has the potential to be an ideal methodology of resistance. This chapter sets out to consider its potential. Drawing on Bourdieu's concepts of social and cultural capital, and illustrated by examiners from a series of life history projects, it considers the narrative capital of research participants – the power they have to tell the stories of their lives. This narrative capital is then located in the field of educational research and Sen's capability approach is introduced to prompt the question: what real opportunities do research participants have to tell the stories they value and have reason to value? It is argued that narrative capital can be too easily squandered by the failure to recognise individual values. The chapter concludes with a call to open up the spaces that allow narrative research to generate this capital, giving the disempowered the substantive freedoms (or capability) to resist powerful hegemonies." (p. 99)

"Telling stories helps people make sense of their lives, Locating the stories they tell in wider social and political contexts helps us to understand the deeper social constructions that shape their lives." (p. 100)

"Bourdieu conceptualises capital as resources and commodities that become objects of struggle because of their value in social relations of power: they are the stake in the 'competition for a power that can only be won from others competing for the same power' (Bourdieu, 2000: 241). He identifies four main types of capital (Bourdieu, 1991: 229-31): economic capital, social capital, cultural capital and symbolic capital.

Economic capital is monetary wealth that has been inherited or generated through economic activity. Social capital embraces the various kinds of valued or important relationships with others (such as networks, connections and group membership) that generate social processes and are deployed in pursuit of favour and advancement. Cultural capital exists in three forms: in an embodied state ( eg in long-lasting dispositions of the mind and body that sensitixe the individual to cultural distinctions), in an objectified state in the form of cultural goods (particularly those associated with 'high culture' such as books, works of art, etc) and in an institutionalised state (where it includes such things as educational qualifications). Symbolic capital includes prestige and social honour as well as personal qualities such as authority and charisma but is also the form that other types of capital assume once they are perceived and recognised as legitimate.

Other forms of capital include academic and educational capital (Bourdieu, 1988, 1993, 1996), emotional capital (Reay, 2000: Gillies, 200), juridical capital (Bourdieu, 1998), linguistic capital (Bourdieu, 1991), physical capital (Shilling, 2004) and political and professional capital (Bourdieu, 1991, 1998)....

But what of narrative capital? Given that linguistic capital and the linguistic components of cultural capital have already been comprehensively address, is there a place for this particular form of story-telling capital? The simple answer (at least from this Bourdieusian perspective) is: Yes. Capital achieves its most effective instrumental purpose when it is deployed in the appropriate field. However, to construct the field 'one must identify the forms of specific capital that operate within it, and to construct the forms of specific capital one must know the specific logic of the field' (Bourdieu and Wacquant, 1992: 108). It thus seems appropriate that if life history participants are to be invited into the field of educational research, or social science research more generally, we should have a clearer understanding of the particular form of capital that defines and operates within it and how that capital is produced, accumulated, reproduced and – for those with less of it – kept in its place. In this context of confronting power, then, narrative capital seems all the more pertinent if our concept is to provide the otherwise disadvantaged with the capital required to articulate the stories of their lives." (pp. 100-101)

"Narrative Capability

The capability approach developed by Amartya Sen (1992, 1999) and Martha Nussbaum (2000, 2006) can appear deceptively simple with its concern to address the substantive freedoms individuals have to choose and lead lives they value and have reason to value. Narrative capability - the real opportunities individuals have to tell their stories – is of fundamental importance to the capability approach because it enables the articulation of what is valued and the recognition of the truly human life (see also Bonvin and Farvaque, 2005; Phelps, 2006). Yet if the foundations of narrative research indicate the importance of narrative capability, the unequal distribution of narrative capital can significantly inhibit it. These difficulties, as well as the complexities of the capability approach, can be gauged by briefly contextualising its origins as a response to the shortcomings of commodities-based and utilitarian assessments of human well-being.

From a capability perspective. Commodities (which include goods in the Rawlsian sense and capital in the Bourdieusian sense described above) only have value inasmuch as they enable individuals to make use of them in the pursuit and achievement of a valued life. Thus, turning to an example that frequently appears in the capability literature, a bicycle has no value to someone who cannot ride it because she is disabled, because there are no suitable cycle routes or because there (p. 106) may be laws or mores prohibiting women from cycling. Moreover, human diversity means that we may require different volumes of any given commodity to achieve the same level of well-being. Another well rehearsed example that illustrates this problem of conversion factors is the breastfeeding mother who requires a significantly greater calorific intake to nourish herself and her child than, say, a pensioner leading a very sedentary life. None of this is to suggest that commodities and capital have no value; and both Sen and Nussbaum clearly indicate that being well off can make a significant contribution to well-being. However, commodities cannot be the sole measure of that well-being and so, from a capability perspective, the focus has to be on 'the freedoms generated by commodities, rather than on the commodities seen on their own' (Sen, 1999: 74)" (pp. 106-7)

"The young people leaving school were given the opportunity to tell their stories and this enhanced narrative capital allowed them to challenge the hierarchically determined presumption that they had low aspirations because they were not progressing to higher education. They had been given the narrative capability they are required to deploy the narrative capital they possessed in order to narrate the stories of their lives. Capability is concerned with the substantive freedoms the individual has to choose and lead a life she values and has reason to value. It is necessary to question the extent to which the freedom to articulate those choices may be restricted by hierarchical power structures that presume socially constructed values and that, moreover, limit opportunity to talk even when invited to do so. Life histories have the potential to resolve this by providing research participants with the freedom to tell their stories and by contexualising those stories to identify and confront the socially constructed hierarchies of power that may otherwise inhibit the telling of tales.

The enhancement of narrative capability requires us to pay attention to the bigger story of which education may be only a small part. But we must also pay attention to the participant's ability to tell a story. It may not be enough to let them struggle through the story unaided. We may be able to develop an understanding of their lives from stumbling speech and from silences but this is not necessarily enough. Giving voice to our research participants, particularly those with low volumes of narrative capital, must therefore mean more than simply letting them speak (although this legitimation may be all they require). It must be about understanding; and they may need support to articulate and understand their own lives. Moreover, this support must acknowledge their own values if we are avoid the hegemonic imposition of other lives, other stories and other values upon them. We come back to life histories as a means of talking truth and confronting power because they enable us to contextualise the stories we are told and to understand them from the perspective of the story teller." (Watts, 2008, p. 110)

As we explore the implications of ideas from Clandinin, Watts, McNiff and Sen I am hoping that some of these might be included in the development of your enquiry and its conclusion.

Made appropriate critical use of the literature and, where appropriate, knowledge from other sources, in the development of the study or enquiry and its conclusions.

I'd also like to emphasise the significance of your writings in taking forward ideas in the September 2007 Special Issue of Educational Action Research on Young Peoples' Voices (Vol. 15, 3) and in Rudduck, J., & McIntyre, D. (2007). Improving Learning through Consulting Pupils. London: Routledge.

If you have copies of the Special Issue of the September 2007 Issue of EAR or Improving Learning Through Consulting Pupils, do please bring them along. I'm thinking here of how your conclusions can reflect the significance of your educational enquiries.

Love Jack.

References

Collingwood, R. G. (1991) An Autobiography, Oxford; Oxford University Press.

Clandinin, J. & Rosiek, J. (2007) Mapping  A Landscape Of Narrative Inquiry: Borderland Spaces And Tensions, pp. 35- 75 in: Clandinin, J. (Ed.) Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping Methodology, Thousand Islands, London, New Dehli; Sage.

McNiff, J. (2007) My Story Is My Living Educational Theory, pp. 308-329 in Clandinin, J. (Ed.) (2007) Handbook of Narrative Inquiry: Mapping Methodology, Thousand Islands, London, New Dehli; Sage.

Sen, A. (1999) Development as Freedom, Oxford; Oxford University Press.

 

Watts, M. (2008) Narrative Research, Narrative Capital And Narrative Capability, pp. 99-112 in: J. Satterthwaite, M. Watts & H. Piper (eds) Talking Truth & Confronting Power, in Satterthwaite, J., Watts, M. & Piper, J. (2008) Talking Truth, Confronting Power, Sterling; Trentham Books.

Whitty, G. (2005) Education(al) research and education policy making: is conflict inevitable? Presidential Address to the British Educational Research Association, University of Glamorgan, 17 September 2005. British Educational Research Journal, Vol. 32, No. 2. April 2006, pp. 159-176.