Abstract
This manuscript explores how one teacher educator worked to facilitate preservice teachers’ (PSTs) learning across field- and university-based settings. Using socio-cultural learning theory as a lens, the analysis draws on case study data gathered for two PSTs from the same teacher education program (TEP), who experienced proximal, but considerably different student teaching placements in urban schools. Findings articulate the teacher educator’s repertoire of moves as she worked to mediate PSTs’ development as equity-minded, reflective practitioners. By examining the learner-centered and contextually sensitive aspects of teacher educator mediation, this manuscript challenges notions of “best practices” in teacher education and adds nuance to discussions about “rich” clinical experiences.
In recent years, clinical experiences in teacher education have drawn increased attention from policymakers and educators. Many have argued that making teacher education more “clinically rich” holds promise for improving university-based teacher education programs (TEPs) and responding to the common criticisms they receive—for example, that they focus too much on theory and too little on practice (National Council for Accreditation of Teacher Education [NCATE], 2010; National Council for Teacher Quality [NCTQ], 2011).
As a result, teacher educators are experiencing an acute pressure to identify and implement “best practices” in clinical preparation (NCTQ, 2011). This article aims to challenge the very notion of “best practice” in this area. Specifically, it analyzes one teacher educator’s efforts at mediating the learning of two preservice teachers (PSTs), who were enrolled in the same TEP, but student taught in different urban elementary schools. In essence, the article aims to open up the “black box” of teacher education (Zeichner & Conklin, 2005)—that is, to document teacher educator practice in relation to clinical experience in particular. To reiterate, ours is not an attempt to identify the best practice in teacher education; rather, by focusing on the context-specific nature of teacher educators’ work, we raise questions about any one practice being the “best.”
Reflective Practice and Practice Teaching
Supporting reflective practitioners’ development represents an enduring teacher education goal, with roots in the foundational writings of esteemed education scholars (Dewey, 1910/1933, 1938; Greene, 1978; Schön, 1987). These scholars, and those who build on their work, argue the importance of particular kinds of critical reflection, including, for example, reflecting on the connection between teaching practice and student learning (Rodgers, 2002), on one’s background and biases as they relate to one’s teaching (Sleeter, 2009), on the specific role of race in cultural contexts (Milner, 2003a, 2003b), and/or on the structures of schooling and their relationship to patterns of inequitable opportunity and achievement among K-12 students (Cochran-Smith, 1991).
In addition to emphasizing specific areas around which to reflect, the research base also includes studies examining the kind, quality, depth, and result of PSTs’ reflection. Ward and McCotter (2004), for example, illustrate the promise of reflection for supporting PSTs to deepen their awareness of students’ learning processes, which the authors identify as essential, especially given the tendency of standards and accountability policies to draw emphasis away from learning and toward student outcomes more exclusively. Lee (2005), meanwhile, demonstrates how, through reflection, PSTs can become less self-oriented and more student-oriented in their practice and their thinking. Following from the foundational works on which they draw, these and other studies speak to the importance of supporting PSTs to reflect not merely for reflection’s sake, but for the purpose of informing future intelligent action, a term Dewey (1938) used to distinguish between the “routine action” of lockstep, unexamined procedure and the critical, contemplative, cyclical nature of reflective teaching.
Alongside long-standing interest in developing PSTs’ reflective competencies, practitioners and policymakers have called in recent years for increased emphasis on developing PSTs’ practice-based competencies via clinical experience. Although much of the related discourse focuses on clinical experiences as opportunities for PSTs to learn about practice—rather than reflective practice, per se—the expectation that clinical experiences should support PSTs to become more reflective about practice is often implied if not stated. This is especially true regarding TEP-culminating clinical experiences such as student teaching, wherein PSTs often engage in structured, sustained reflection around their developing practice.
Regarding student teaching, specifically, Feiman-Nemser and Buchmann (1987) posed three decades ago the still-essential question, “When is student teaching teacher education?” In response, they argued the importance of supporting PSTs to understand the “difference between going through the motions of teaching . . . and connecting those activities to what pupils should be learning,” and scaffolding PSTs’ engagement in “pedagogical thinking,” which involves reflecting on the relationship between what one does as a teacher and what students learn as a result. Soon after, Cochran-Smith (1991) offered a complementary argument that considered, and sought to transform, the conservatizing potential of student teaching. Concerned about scholarship (e.g., Zeichner & Tabachnick, 1981) and experience that suggested novice teachers were at risk of being socialized uncritically to accept deficit ideologies, problematic practices, and entrenched schooling inequities, Cochran-Smith argued that student teaching ought to support PSTs to “teach against the grain,” to develop critical inquiry skills and become reform-minded, under the mentorship of cooperating teachers (CTs) who are themselves working to reform their classrooms and schools. That so many teacher educators today view clinical experiences as critical experiences, too, is evident in the frequency with which they incorporate into student teaching approaches that promote critical reflection (e.g., reflective journals, weekly seminars, action research projects; Yost, Sentner, & Forlenza-Bailey, 2000).
The call to support PSTs to teach and reflect “against the grain” arguably resonates acutely for those concerned with preparing effective, reflective teachers for urban and/or high-need schools serving non-dominant youth. 1 Indeed, teachers entering such contexts must learn to resist deficit-oriented paradigms that permeate public discourse about school “failure” and student “disengagement” (Gonzalez et al., 1995). Likewise, they must learn to build relationships, often across cultural boundaries and/or legacies of distrust, all while navigating a range of known challenges including, for example, resource shortages and overcrowding (Kozol, 2005), scant opportunities for meaningful collaboration and mentoring (Kardos & Johnson, 2007), high rates of student mobility and staff turnover (Ingersoll, 2003), and pressures accompanying schools’ low-performing labels (Valli & Buese, 2007). Also, of course, they must do this while learning to enact learner-centered, culturally relevant pedagogies (Ladson-Billings, 1994), even in the face of accountability-related instructional constraints (Anderson & Stillman, 2010; Stillman, 2011). 2 All told, this represents a heavy “learning load” for clinical experiences to carry, and it speaks to the complexity of the work that teacher educators do as they support PSTs’ learning in the field.
And yet, questions about what and how PSTs learn from student teaching—particularly in urban, high-needs schools—remain relatively underexplored. Related studies from the last 20-plus years, for example, mostly focus on student teaching’s contributions to PSTs’ sense of efficacious and preparedness for urban teaching (see, for example, Knoblauch & Woolfolk-Hoy, 2008), their motivation and commitment to work in urban schools (see, for example, Fry & McKinney, 1997), and/or their cultural competence (see, for example, Downey & Cobbs, 2007). Relatively few studies examine PSTs’ developing practice or critical reflection on that practice; those that do show that engaging student teachers in critical reflection can support them to become more aware of and/or troubled by their own biases (see, for example, Buehler, Gere, Dallivas, & Haviland, 2009) and more inclined to identify links between their own teaching and students’ learning (see, for example, LaBoskey & Richert, 2002; Merino & Holmes, 2006).
That said, the literature base overall offers limited insight into how exactly teacher educators contribute, across university-based and field-based settings, to student teachers’ development as critical, reflective practitioners. While there is a wealth of literature detailing programmatic innovations that intentionally intertwine university and field settings (e.g., professional development schools, residency programs, community-based placements; see, for example, Castle, Fox, & Souder, 2006; Howe, 2007; McDonald et al., 2011), much of it focuses on structural and programmatic features rather than teacher educators’ efforts to support PSTs’ learning across settings. Meanwhile, studies of student teaching in urban schools specifically tend to reflect an implicit or explicit assumption that intended learning will result mostly from PSTs’ exposure to and/or immersion in those contexts (see, for example, Groulx, 2001; Stachowski & Frey, 2003) or from PSTs’ engagement in other independent assignments (e.g., tutoring; attending school-sponsored parent events, and so on; see, for example, Downey & Cobbs, 2007; Jacobbe, Ross, & Hensberry, 2012).
Generally speaking, teacher educators impose what we have elsewhere called a mostly “invisible hand” (Anderson & Stillman, 2013b): They are present, but their mediation of PSTs’ learning remains largely obscured or undocumented. Some articles attend more so to this mediation (Brock, Moore, & Parks, 2007; LaBoskey & Richert, 2002; Valencia, Martin, Place, & Grossman, 2009). From these, we learn that the interactions between teacher educators and PSTs are consequential; nonetheless, PSTs’ experiences—not teacher educators’ practices—remain the focus of analysis. This is particularly notable given recent scholarship that establishes the key role of teacher educator mediation in ensuring that PSTs’ field-based learning aligns with teacher educators’ intended goals, especially when preparing PSTs to teach “against the grain” (Anderson & Stillman, 2010, 2013a). Indeed, scholars have long underscored the importance of resources and conditions—including teacher educators’ knowledge of individual PSTs—in facilitating reflection (Borko et al., 1992; Lee, 2005).
This manuscript aims to contribute to the knowledge base in three ways: by focusing on variation across (rather than generalization about) clinical experiences in urban and/or high-needs schools, specifically; by foregrounding a view of teaching—and student teaching—that emphasizes critical reflection about the relationship between a teacher’s practice and students’ experiences; and by examining what teacher educators do to mediate PSTs’ development as reflective practitioners. In essence then, this manuscript responds to Feiman-Nemser and Buchmann’s (1987) question, “When is student teaching teacher education?” and refines that question to ask, “what do teacher educators do to make sure that student teaching is, in fact, teacher education?” To that end, this article explores how one teacher educator worked to mediate the learning of two student teachers across two urban schools. Thus, instead of focusing on any universal “best practice,” we focus on the context-specific nature of PSTs’ clinical experiences and the context-specific nature of teacher educators’ work in relation to such experiences.
Theoretical Framework
Socio-culturalism undergirds our analysis of PSTs’ learning and the role of student teaching, specifically, in that learning (see, for example, Smagorinsky, Cook, Jackson, Fry, & Moore, 2004; Valencia et al., 2009). From a socio-cultural perspective, learning occurs in dialogue with the social and cultural milieu. Thus, examining student teaching through this lens draws attention to social relationships and contextual and cultural factors shaping PSTs’ development. These include, for example, dynamics among PSTs and CTs, as well as variations in “accepted” norms and practices and the degrees to which external policy mandates manifest in classrooms, both within and across communities.
Socio-cultural learning theory also helps highlight the multiple and at times competing goals that may exist within and across learning contexts. For example, in teacher education, scholars have long lamented the “two worlds” pitfall that can occur when PSTs travel across university-based and school-based settings (Cochran-Smith, 1991; Feiman-Nemser & Buchmann, 1987; Grossman, Hammerness, McDonald, & Ronfeldt, 2008; Valencia et al., 2009). For this reason, it is fitting and generative to explore teacher educators’ efforts to facilitate PSTs’ learning across settings, and to do so using a framework that attends to the social, cultural, and contextual complexities that arise when social actors—K-12 staff and students, TEP faculty, and PSTs themselves—negotiate practice across settings (e.g., assignments, classrooms, schools, university spaces). Indeed, this perspective opens up possibilities for exploring in tandem PSTs’ learning within and across field- and university-based contexts, and the role of teacher educators in facilitating that learning, ideally in learner-centered and contextually sensitive ways.
Method
Given the need for nuanced understanding of both PST learning in context and teacher educators’ role in that learning, we conducted case study research focused on the interaction between one teacher educator (the first author) and two PSTs who student taught in different urban schools (Yin, 2003). In this sense, the research represents a nested case study design in which each of the two PSTs represents an individual case within the larger, overarching case (Stake, 1995). Befitting this design, our intent was to explore similarities and variations in the teacher educator’s facilitation of critical reflection vis-à-vis different PSTs (as learners) and different placements (as contexts for PST learning).
Data Collection
Data collection occurred over 5 months, during which the first author and focal teacher educator (Jamy) served as a “participant observer,” while the second author, a teacher educator at another institution, served as co-investigator and analysis partner. Data sources included individual and focus group interviews; PSTs’ daily journal entries, submitted weekly, and Jamy’s written responses; transcriptions of weekly triad supervision meetings between Jamy and both PSTs; and notes taken by Jamy during observations conducted every 3 weeks during the 15 weeks of student teaching.
Interviews included one semi-structured interview (90-120 min) with each participant about halfway through student teaching, a focus group interview (90-120 min) near the end of student teaching, and another (individual) semi-structured interview (90-120 min) at the conclusion of student teaching. Interviews, which were audiotaped and transcribed, aimed to elicit PSTs’ reflections on their opportunities to learn across university- and field-based settings. Questions, therefore, asked participants to comment on their sense of TEP goals and to describe what they perceived to be the TEP’s efforts to facilitate PST learning in relation to those goals, across various contexts.
Throughout student teaching, PSTs engaged in reflective journal writing, which they submitted weekly. Within a few days, Jamy responded in writing. Thus, journal data capture aspects of PSTs’ sense-making alongside Jamy’s efforts to mediate learning via written feedback. By the end of student teaching, each PST submitted and received feedback on 12 sets of entries (roughly 60 per PST).
Each PST also underwent three formal observations, conducted by Jamy. After each, Jamy met with PSTs individually to debrief and complete a “collaborative assessment log” wherein Jamy documented collaboratively determined areas of focus and “next steps” for the PST. In one log, for example, Jamy recorded one PST’s concerns about relying too heavily on her CT and teaching assistant to support individual learners, rather than incorporating into her lesson plan approaches for meeting all learners’ needs. About next steps, Jamy’s notes read, To consider how [Allison] might teach a lesson to diverse students in a classroom where she is the only teacher, . . . perhaps by including more modeling and guided practice before students are expected to engage in independent work. Allison will also consider how she might involve less engaged students and hold all students accountable for learning.
These observation-related data, which include accounts of PSTs’ developing practice, provide a means by which to triangulate PSTs’ self-reports.
Finally, transcribed audio-recordings of weekly supervision meetings capture synchronous face-to-face interactions between Jamy and both PSTs. Transcriptions feature PSTs’ oral reflections and interactive sense-making, and Jamy’s efforts to mediate their learning during discussion. These data, too, offer opportunities to triangulate themes raised in asynchronous journals, as well as interviews and observations.
Analysis
Socio-cultural theory directed us first to identify the TEP’s overarching learning goal for PSTs: to “become skilled and reflective teachers who can effectively respond to the learning needs of diverse learners and create supportive and intellectually stimulating classroom communities, . . . particularly in urban, public schools” (TEP Mission, 2010). Based on this, we focused analysis on Jamy’s mediation as it related to PSTs’ development as critically reflective practitioners.
We then began open coding. Initial passes through the data, for example, helped illuminate the various aspects of Jamy’s mediation, in particular her tendency to engage in specific forms of mediation, which served particular functions, and orbited around several foci. Open coding also revealed what these forms, functions, and foci were and how they varied and/or remained constant across learners and contexts. We next grouped and condensed open codes into axial codes (Miles & Huberman, 1994). For example, initial rounds of coding indicated that one of Jamy’s foci was addressing PSTs’ questions and reflections about using classroom materials like pre-packaged Language Arts and Math programs (i.e., language arts program, mathematics program), and state-adopted social studies texts (i.e., textbook). Given the prevalence of such instances and their tendency to accompany questions about using materials responsively (i.e., responsive), we eventually collapsed these codes into the axial code adapting mandated/given curriculum.
Building on emerging themes and drawing on socio-cultural learning theory, subsequent coding rounds focused on PSTs as learners (e.g., how background knowledge and experiences seemed to mediate developing understandings and practices), the interplay between learners and learning contexts (e.g., field placements, TEP courses), and how Jamy’s mediation responded to variations in learners and learning contexts. Related to the above example, for instance, we created a code that aimed to capture degrees of scrutiny surrounding mandated curricula (i.e., tight regulation, loose regulation).
Before applying final codes to the full dataset, we randomly selected 20% of the data (roughly five sources) and coded separately to ensure adequate inter-rater reliability (κ = .7). Throughout the coding process, we wrote analytic memos, which we shared with each other for the purposes of preliminary thematic analysis.
Whereas this study offers conceptual richness, its design presents limitations, too. In conducting qualitative case study research, we privilege analytical depth and attention to context, but limit generalizability. Likewise, we reap the benefits of Jamy’s role as participant observer; her insider status, proximity to placements, and rapport with PSTs helped capture data that would have been otherwise unattainable. However, such an approach also holds potential to compromise validity if research “subjects” feel compelled to act in accordance with participant observers’ interests or views, or if participant observers feel compelled to analyze data in ways that shed favorable light on their own practices. We took steps to avoid such risks, including delaying analysis until PSTs finished student teaching and engaging the second author as the primary data analyst.
Given its limitations, we consider this analysis exploratory and note the importance of future research that investigates teacher educator mediation as it impacts larger, more diverse groups of PSTs, across multiple contexts, and over time. Nevertheless, we argue there is much to learn even from the interactions between just one teacher educator and two PSTs.
Participants
Data collection occurred in a small, undergraduate TEP within a selective liberal arts college in a major U.S. city. As per criteria for TEP admission, all PSTs declared majors at the end of sophomore year; in fulfillment of an Education Minor and preliminary state teaching credential, they then were required to complete education coursework during junior and senior years. Given the TEP’s explicit commitment to preparing equity-minded teachers for urban public schools, coursework focused on reflective practice and tailoring curriculum and instruction to the needs of diverse learners.
Teacher educator
For Jamy, the TEP’s institutional commitment largely mirrored her own. A White, female, junior faculty member, Jamy had experience as a former bilingual teacher and professional development provider for teachers of (im)migrant students. The approaches she took to preparing future teachers reflect her background, scholarship, and interest in how culture shapes learning, both for K-12 students (particularly English Learners) and PSTs.
PSTs
During data collection, both PSTs were second semester seniors pursuing elementary certification. As required for the 15 weeks of student teaching, both were spending 4 or 5 days per week in their placements and leading at least 100 hours of instruction. Both were placed in urban public schools and meeting weekly with Jamy.
Allison 3
Allison, a White 21-year old, psychology major, grew up in a midsized, Midwestern city. She described her extended family as upper-middle class, highly educated, liberal, and politically active; in one journal entry, for example, Allison mentioned her grandparents’ membership in the socialist party and her mother’s activism in various social movements.
In a teaching autobiography authored 1 week prior to the start of student teaching, Allison expressed a desire to teach in an urban school so she could “actually do something” about educational inequity. She described wanting to teach “for understanding” in “child-centered” ways and engage students in “joint activity . . . rooted in real-life scenarios and applications,” so that they might “look critically at their own schooling and society” and “learn from and with each other.” She wrote about her intention to “support all learners to achieve,” an endeavor that required “understanding students’ current capabilities and knowledge and building on them.” Challenging deficit notions, Allison emphasized her belief that all students bring to school valuable cultural and experiential knowledge. She also described her commitment to continue confronting her own racial and class privilege and developing a critical teaching stance.
While participating in the TEP, Allison became particularly interested in bilingual education and language discrimination. Hoping to eventually pursue a bilingual position, she had completed an intensive, summer Spanish-language course in Mexico. Although not authorized to grant bilingual credentials, TEP faculty regularly offered interested, qualified students bilingual placements. Per her request, Allison student taught in a fifth grade bilingual (English/Spanish) classroom.
Allison’s placement was in a K-5 school that implemented both inclusion and dual-immersion models. A school of almost 700 students, each grade offered two bilingual and two English-only classes. Bilingual classes enrolled students from Spanish-speaking and English-speaking families and split instruction equally between both languages. Most teachers, including Allison’s CT, Audra, taught in an alternate day model (i.e., 1 day of English followed by 1 day of Spanish). Most students came from local low-income families who had immigrated from the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, or Mexico. The school also drew a smaller population from more affluent, highly educated families who lived outside the neighborhood, but sought bilingual classes.
With many English learners, the school’s standardized test scores from the previous year hovered around the 40th percentile. Thus, during the spring semester when Allison student taught, the school was experiencing significant pressure to raise scores. Consequently, the principal and others actively monitored teachers’ coverage of the district-adopted English/Language Arts and Math curricula.
Marie
Marie, a White 21-year old, was raised by her single mother—a public schoolteacher—in a Northeastern town. Less economically privileged than many peers at the college, Marie spoke frequently about her love of the arts and credited her mother for exposing her to creative pursuits. She also recounted her experience developing a “civil rights team” that fought against injustice in her mostly White high school. A theater major, Marie spent her undergraduate years volunteering in elementary schools and afterschool arts programming for local youth.
In her teaching autobiography, Marie described her desire to teach in “creative” and “student-centered” ways and to promote students’ “individual success” irrespective of “class, race, gender, religion, or family background.” Marie also hoped to establish “a social justice atmosphere” and defined this as a “safe classroom space that protects students from negative experiences,” “empowers students,” involves them in “problem-posing,” and reflects “constructivist and multicultural” principles. Like Allison, Marie expressed wanting to support students to “make connections between their personal experiences and what is happening in the classroom.” She also reported wanting an “active” classroom that “does not stop with the textbook,” responds to students’ “learning styles,” and offers students opportunities to “express their ideas through more creative routes.” Similar to Allison, Marie expressed an intention to seek employment in an urban school.
Marie’s placement—also in a fifth grade classroom—was in a school five blocks from Allison’s. Despite proximity, the school, which also drew students from the neighborhood, served a different population. Although racially and ethnically diverse, many more students came from affluent, professional families; meanwhile, a small number were bussed in from low-income communities. With a reputation as a parent-run public school, neighborhood families had a strong presence in classrooms and often provided resources and opinions about curriculum and instruction. Beyond parents’ input, however, teachers experienced few instructional constraints; given the school’s high test scores (i.e., consistently around the 85th percentile), teachers had considerable instructional freedom. Marie’s CT, Michelle, was well-respected and viewed as someone whose instruction aligned with the school’s vision of good teaching.
Findings
As might be expected of any teacher educator, findings indicate some uniformity—a common repertoire of practices—but also variation in how Jamy drew on those practices to mediate Allison and Marie’s learning. As mentioned earlier, while Jamy’s mediation took similar forms, those forms often varied in their function and/or focus. Jamy’s selection of specific “moves” also varied in relation to the learner (PST), context (placement), and learner-context “fit,” which we explain below. This variation illustrates the context-specific nature of scaffolding PSTs’ field-based learning; it also points to the potential limitations of identifying “best practices” in student teaching, absent consideration of the contextualization such practices might require to reflect TEP goals and/or meet individual PSTs’ needs.
Form, Function, and Focus
Jamy’s mediation took eight different forms, which fulfilled various functions (see Table 1). The most common form was affirmation. In a few rare instances, Jamy offered general affirmation of the PST (e.g., “give yourself credit, Allison”); otherwise affirmations recognized PSTs’ stated ideas, specific observations, descriptions of their own practice, or analyses of CT practice and/or student learning.
Form and Function Codes With Some Examples of Coded Content.
Note. CT = cooperating teacher; PST = preservice teacher; TEP = teacher education program.
Questioning was the second-most common form. Often questions invited PSTs to imagine alternatives to their own or others’ observed practice. For example, when Allison recounted her CT offering students a rare opportunity to make connections between a novel and their own lives, Jamy asked Allison (in writing), “Can you imagine how you might build in structures that would support students . . . to reflect regularly on their own lives as part of a rigorous academic program?” At other times, Jamy deployed questions to solicit more information, explanation, or elaboration, to encourage critical analysis, to invite alternative explanations, or to clarify.
The third-most common form involved offering suggestions. At times, suggestions pressed PSTs to do something in their TEP or placement classroom. In some instances, Jamy suggested that PSTs write about something in future entries, deepen their reflection, consider a particular point, or otherwise focus their attention. In other instances, Jamy suggested that PSTs consult their CTs and/or specific resources.
Remaining forms each seemed to fulfill one function apiece. These included offering tacit or explicit directions or advice; making declarative statements, or sharing one’s own analysis of a situation or issue (i.e., “this is how I read it”); reminding PSTs about topics or issues already discussed; inviting PSTs to address particular issues or themes; and what we called counter-pointing, or acknowledging PSTs’ comments and then countering with related, but somewhat challenging points. Table 1 includes examples of each form and function.
Not surprisingly, given the TEP’s mission and Jamy’s own commitments, most mediation orbited around five areas of focus, which appeared with similar frequency across data sources. The most frequent focus centered on acknowledging or directing PSTs’ attention to individual learners. Often this involved pressing PSTs to consider whether instruction served the needs of all students, particularly the needs of students positioned for one reason or another at the margins and to consider how they might adjust instruction to ensure more equitable learning opportunities. For example, in the following two excerpts, Jamy responded to PSTs’ comments about classroom dynamics generally and the treatment or behavior of individual students, specifically.
Response to part of Marie’s fifth journal: Interesting . . . This sounds like typical early adolescent stuff, though I’ve never heard you say anything negative about Nola or Ruthanne’s behavior before. I’ll be curious to hear more about them and your responses to/relationship with them as the semester progresses. Response to part of Allison’s eleventh journal: Yes, and can you imagine what Ricardo’s classroom identity would be like if he had been given similar opportunities when he first arrived? Not that it’s too late for you to provide some of those opportunities now . . .
In both instances, Jamy affirmed and encouraged a continued focus on specific learners, framed students’ participation in structural or developmental (rather than personal) terms, and communicated an expectation that PSTs would act to build relationships (“I’ll be curious to hear more about them and your responses to/relationship with them”) and/or provide equitable opportunities (“Not that it’s too late for you to provide some of those opportunities now”).
Other foci, listed in order from most to least frequent, involved the following: adapting mandated or “given” curriculum so that it was more culturally relevant and incorporated opportunities to build on students’ prior academic knowledge and funds of knowledge; respectfully, but critically analyzing CTs’ practice—moving beyond surface description to deeper examination of whether and how CTs’ practices facilitated (or could better facilitate) student learning; navigating the kind of micro-political tensions that often arise when PSTs enter CTs’ classrooms and begin building relationships with students; acknowledging opportunities for PSTs to exert agency over the conditions, interactions, and outcomes of their work in schools with youth, families, and colleagues; and considering whether, how, and to what degree social justice themes were and could be addressed through instruction.
Finally, several areas of focus emerged as unique to a given PST. As one example, classroom management emerged as an area of focus in Marie’s case. Interestingly, due to the contours of her placement and Marie’s tendencies as a learner—what we call the learner-placement fit, described below—mediation often took the form of acknowledging Marie’s management-related reflections (e.g., “I can tell you are learning a lot about management”) and then pressing her to address issues of classroom climate with critical analytical, not just descriptive, commentary (e.g., “Looking back on the experience, do you have a clear sense of what you did (and didn’t do) that kept the classroom running smoothly? . . . this would be worth articulating”).
Variation by Learner and Context
As noted earlier, socio-cultural learning theory directed us to identify and then center our analysis on the TEP’s overarching learning goal that PSTs become critically reflective practitioners. Socio-culturalism also drew our attention to the fit between who PSTs were as learners and what their placements were like as contexts for learning, given specific contextual factors that appeared to shape PSTs’ experiences in consequential ways. Indeed, what we call the “PST–placement” (or “learner-context”) fit had implications for PSTs’ learning and also for how Jamy worked to mediate different PST’s learning in relation to shared TEP goals. To demonstrate the implications of PST-placement fit for teacher educator mediation, we offer two examples focused on the role that school-wide emphases and structures, curriculum artifacts, policy implementation, and CT tendencies played in shaping conditions for PST learning.
For example, Allison, an especially critical and reflective observer, student taught in a school with a bilingual program—something she believed in and cared about deeply. However, that program was largely overshadowed by the commitment of the principal, a former special education teacher, to inclusion as the primary school-wide emphasis. Thus, Jamy’s mediation often pressed Allison to identify how the classroom conditions with which she was wrestling reflected conditions school-wide—a challenge for which Allison, given her interest in preserving bilingual programming and elevating the status of bilingualism, entered her placement well-prepared developmentally and philosophically. In her third set of journal entries, for example, Allison lamented that her students would be performing a play only in English: As we’re a dual-language class, we naturally wanted to do something that would include the two languages. However, the principal wants it only performed in English. I hate this sentiment, as it reinforces the message that this language is more important.
Jamy responded by affirming Allison’s observation, offering her own analysis, and suggesting that Allison engage her CT, Audra, in discussion about these issues: Yes, and this type of issue seems to be ongoing at [your school]. In fact, I think such problems are particularly common in schools where the bilingual program is only part of a handful of classrooms . . . Mr. Jones is a wise principal, but the school seems to be missing some (key) pieces when it comes to bilingual education. It would probably be useful to talk with Audra about the school-wide attitudes and politics of the bilingual program.
Meanwhile Marie, passionately committed to the arts, student taught in a school that valued the role of the arts in teaching and offered teachers latitude to exercise their own creativity in instruction. Yet the school also tended to privilege some parents’ perspectives at the expense of others, and to ignore or explain away—rather than take responsibility for—certain students’ underachievement. Given this, Jamy’s mediation often pressed Marie to identify—against her bias to embrace the school and its teachers for their creativity—the instructional shortcomings and the limitations of the school-wide ethos from an equity perspective.
In one journal entry, for example, Marie excitedly described a series of lessons about Lewis and Clark, focusing on one lesson when students were asked to pretend they were going on an expedition and to think critically about whom they would choose for their “Corps of Discovery.” Marie’s entry provides an enthusiastic step-by-step account of the activity but lacks critical reflection. Indeed, the account emphasizes students’ engagement and successful assignment completion, but leaves unquestioned the rigor and relevance of the activity’s learning goals, as well as the treatment of content from an equity perspective. In response, Jamy affirmed Marie’s focus and then posed questions pressing her to look more critically at her CT’s instruction: This sounds like an engaging lesson/unit. Can you think of how you might modify it so that’s it’s more culturally relevant? So that it has a more critical perspective? Why might thinking these approaches through be important, even in a school like [the one you’re placed at]?
With this parting question, Jamy pressed Marie to engage critically with the curriculum—a practice that resides at the center of equity-minded teachers’ work in today’s urban schools (Anderson & Stillman, 2013a), where accountability policies often lead to the predominance of test-driven pedagogies (Sleeter, 2012). In doing so, Jamy points to one of teacher educators’ most important yet most challenging responsibilities: supporting student teachers to notice and challenge the norms and rules they encounter in field placements, particularly when they stand to undermine equity goals. In this case, Marie was satisfied/complicit with the given assignment—despite its tendency to maintain dominant narratives about “discovery” and its one-size-fits-all instructional approach. Thus, although formal policy mandates were not dictating instruction in Marie’s placement, Jamy’s mediation still pressed Marie to resist “comfort” around status-quo-perpetuating norms of practice—a comfort that, in a more tightly monitored context, could more severely limit students’ access to quality teaching.
Meanwhile, Allison was placed in just such a tightly monitored context. Although Allison wanted to and had specific ideas about how to construct integrated, student-centered curricula, her school’s low-performing label required that she teach a mandated curriculum with at least some fidelity to a district-wide pacing plan. Thus, Jamy was again compelled—though differently because of the different context and different learner—to focus on how a student teacher might adapt mandated materials and instantiate her ideals within the parameters set by her CT and the policy context.
In one entry, for example, Allison expressed her frustrations with the grade-level social studies curriculum that was geared toward preparing students for a district mandated high-stakes test and that her CT had charged her with teaching. In particular, she was critical of what she referred to as the textbook’s “skewed perspectives.” She explained that “one of the chapters is titled ‘Coexistence in Canada’ and it boasts about everyone living happily and the Europeans marrying the Indigenous people,” and then asked, “Whoa, was this by choice? How did the native people feel about this? How did this affect their culture/identity?” Allison shared concerns about “a lot of voices being absent.” In her response, Jamy affirmed Allison’s analysis of the adopted text and invited Allison to think about the political dimensions of this instructional work—to consider how one might “impose a conceptually framed, as opposed to fact-driven approach to the unit” and otherwise carve out opportunities to teach social studies in an equity-minded way.
Meanwhile, teachers in Marie’s school tended to use the curriculum they were provided and to differentiate instruction with an emphasis on making instruction engaging for all, rather than responsive to individual learners. Because of this, Jamy’s facilitation often encouraged Marie to see and analyze the tendency for instruction to privilege some students and marginalize others—notably those from more economically disadvantaged backgrounds. Reflecting on an opportunity to lead instruction in one journal entry, Marie explained, in keeping with her tendency to focus on management, that, “the class paid attention through reading and writing workshops . . . and I realized that I can keep the entire classroom running smoothly and effectively.” In her response, Jamy wrote, What a wonderful realization, Marie. Looking back on the experience, do you have a clear sense of what you did (and didn’t do) that kept the classroom running smoothly? I think this would be worth articulating. I also wonder what you mean when you say the classroom was running “effectively.” Who was it effective for? And, what makes a classroom effective?
Here we see Jamy affirming Marie’s sense of accomplishment (“what a wonderful realization”), but then, through questioning (“do you have a clear sense of what you did [and didn’t do] that kept the classroom running smoothly?”) and suggestion (“I think this would be worth articulating”), pressing Marie to reflect more critically on her instruction and its impact on individual learners and to unpack her own labels with greater detail (“I also wonder what you mean when you say the classroom was running ‘effectively’ . . . ”). This is not to suggest that engaging in such reflection would alone lead Marie to wholly recognize individual learners’ needs or that we would be satisfied with Marie’s responses as a fully formed learning “outcome.” However, such reflection, were Marie to engage in it, would arguably serve as an important developmental step on her journey to equity-minded teaching—a step we hope she’d hold close as she engaged in later learning experiences.
Certainly, it is possible to identify myriad additional aspects of the PST–placement fit. In the interest of length, however, we offer those described above as a backdrop for further examination of how Jamy mediated PSTs’ learning to become critically reflective. In particular, we focus on Jamy’s efforts to support Allison and Marie as learners within and across field-based placements and university-based supervision meetings.
Mediating Learning Across Contexts
In her journal feedback, Jamy regularly suggested that each PST bring particular issues, raised in the journals, to weekly supervision meetings. Jamy mostly offered these suggestions in relation to issues that appeared shared in nature and in relation to comments that would unlock opportunities for student teachers’ co-mediation of one another’s learning. Below, we present and analyze several excerpts of dialogue from a supervision meeting that occurred approximately one third of the way into student teaching. These examples illustrate how, within the meeting, Jamy’s mediation took various forms and also leveraged PSTs’ capacities to shape one another’s sense-making in ways that would likely support their development as reflective, equity-minded practitioners.
As the ensuing examples illustrate, Jamy, Allison, and Marie spent much of this discussion considering Marie’s comments about her CT Michelle’s approach to morning meetings. Of concern to Marie was her observation that the meetings seemed to reinforce rather than disrupt social stratification/marginalization in the classroom. Importantly, these concerns voiced by Marie reflect growth on her part, as they represent some of the earliest and still tentative steps she took to move beyond description and toward critical reflection. Specifically, Marie raised questions about the tendency for students to volunteer during morning meetings only when they believed they had something “valuable” to share, and that their notions of value seemed to derive from mainstream media sources and reflect experiences of more affluent students. She also reported that the same students tended to “dominate” during morning meetings, mostly by signing up to share each time and calling only on friends to respond. Marie additionally voiced frustrations about what she perceived to be insufficient opportunities to challenge these practices and norms, as Michelle had limited Marie’s opportunities to lead instruction.
The first example begins with Marie (M) contrasting the “cliques” in her placement with cliques Allison (A) had previously described being present in her placement. In response, Jamy’s (J) mediation worked to frame Marie’s comments in relation to TEP goals (i.e., to develop equity-mindedness, to become critically reflective) and also invited further conversation about how Allison and Marie could navigate tensions that arise when observing and practicing in other teachers’ classrooms.
(1) M: There are cliques within the classroom, and they perpetuate (2) inequality in a way that’s different than saying you have some (3) students who speak only Spanish and some who are you know- (4) J: Ok so the cliques are kind of what create, well they perpetuate the (5) inequalities in the class and they create some new inequalities also (6) right? So I’m wondering how-, it sounds like you’re saying it’s not (7) just that though, I mean ultimately the teacher is the one who sets (8) the tone right? So the other issue is that Michelle has structures in (9) place that reinforce those… is that right? (10) M: I mean I think to some extent they’ve been doing it for so long that (11) it’s become very routine. (12) A: Which is when it most becomes a problem because you don’t see it (13) as anything. (14) M: And I don’t know how they would respond to me telling them (15) that. (16) J: Well maybe it’s not appropriate for you to challenge her. (17) A: That’s what’s so hard about being a student teacher. (18) M: (Cross talk) to say, you know, think about who you could call on (19) that might be different than who you called on before. (20) J: Or just modeling that for her; for Michelle. Like you doing that (21) with the kids.
Here, Jamy began by affirming Marie’s described struggle and then restated Marie’s comments to clarify and guide the PSTs toward an understanding of the problem as being rooted in classroom and broader social structures (Lines 4-6). Jamy’s subsequent declarations (though intoned as questions) then pressed the PSTs to trace the problem Marie described back to structures created by her CT, thus underscoring teachers’ agency in creating the structures that ultimately cultivate prevailing norms of classroom interaction (Lines 6-9). Jamy next suggested that posing a direct challenge to the CT might not be the most effective way to bring about equity-minded practice (Line 16). Marie then offered an example of what it might sound like to challenge the CT directly, which Jamy then followed with a suggestion for how Marie (and Allison) might productively leverage their relatively limited purview as PSTs (Lines 20-21).
This next excerpt of dialogue, which unfolded later in the same meeting, built on topics previously discussed, but featured teacher educator mediation aimed at highlighting issues of inequity as they relate to individual learners and emphasizing the importance of establishing inclusive classrooms. This pressed PSTs to draw connections across contexts to make sense of different students’ marginalization. The excerpt opens with Jamy offering an example of a student from Marie’s classroom to highlight the role that school and classroom context can play in students’ marginalization and to raise the possibility that marginalization is not contingent upon students’ membership in non-dominant groups.
(1) J: I think we have this misconception that its only kids that are (2) disadvantaged that actually-, these are experiences we need to be (3) more cognizant of validating, when really I mean Kai here is this (4) white boy, academically very high and I think even though he (5) frustrates some of the kids, he’s also- (6) M: Pretty popular. (7) J: I mean he’s not [an academically] marginalized child in that (8) classroom at all. But it would change the classroom dynamic if there (9) Was something in place that made him realize he’s not above (10) Everybody else so that his experiences aren’t only unique to him. (11) M: Yes. (12) J: Right? And then with a child like Ricardo, he is marginalized. But (13) you could see how him having that experience [of having his own (14) experience be validated by the teacher and other students] would be (15) important for him and the whole community right? To see that he (16) has-, the other kids could see that they have expeiences that they (17) share with him, right? (18) A: Um hum (positive response) . . . (19) J: So I want you to walk away with something somewhat concrete (20) here . . . how would you structure morning meetings to actually build (21) community instead of reinforcing kind of hierarchies? (22) M: I feel like a lot of the perception of how kids view what is valid (23) and what is the valuable thing to share is a lot of the culture that (24) surrounds them, like media, TV, movies… What is great is being (25) able to go to parties, birthday parties, being able to have play dates, (26) beinga ble to-, you know there are not so many movies about kids (27) sitting home with grandma on the weekend. (28) J: So what did you say there just now Allison? (29) A: You model it. You say I had a really great-, I don’t know, but you (30) think of some moment in your weekend that doesn’t necessarily have (31) to be spectacular in any sort of way. But is that enough? (32) M: I’ll say I had dinner with my sister this weekend and that was (33) really exciting for me?
As in the previous excerpt, Jamy’s facilitation pressed PSTs to consider similarities across contexts; specifically, she reintroduced students from each placement—students with whom PSTs were now familiar given weekly discussion—to highlight the damaging effects of academic and/or social marginalization both for students in the margins (Kai and Ricardo) and for other students. Jamy then used declaration (Lines 19-20) followed by questioning (Line 20-21) to circle back on earlier references to structural inequity and teacher agency, while also moving the conversation from engaging in critical analysis to hypothesizing future “intelligent actions” that hold promise for advancing equity through the creation of non-hierarchical classroom spaces (Dewey, 1938; Rodgers, 2002). Given what she knew about Allison’s tendency to reflect critically on instruction, Jamy then invited Allison’s voice into the discussion to initiate hypothesizing about potential strategies (Line 28). Allison then offered a suggestion, similar to one made by Jamy earlier in the meeting, and provided Marie with an example of what form this modeling might take (Line 29-31).
In a final exchange, the dialogue circled back to morning meeting, but with an explicit focus on “intelligent action.” Jamy opened by making a declaration about students’ lives and the potential importance of offering opportunities for Monday morning sharing. But her opening comment also closed with a question that invited PSTs to consider how they might “level the playing field” during the morning meeting routine: (1) J: . . . Important things happen over the weekend for kids. I mean it’s (2) the time when they’re with their family, especially in a place like New (3) York where parents work a lot. I don’t think a lot of parents get to (4) interact that much with their families during the week. There is an (5) opportunity on Monday morning for kids to talk about what they did. (6) There has to be a way to level the playing field a bit. What do you (7) think? (8) M: She [my theater teacher] would have us come in every class and (9) we had to have an observation from the week. The observation had to (10) be an image, like something you observed… it could be something so (11) simple as like I saw an old man bendover to pick up a penny off the (12) street…maybe something like that where you give them a sense of (13) different ways to observe your community (14) J: What do you think Allison? (15) A: I think that’d be really cool and you can validate the different (16) things that they’ve seen and focus on how they see it and not what (17) they see or like what they interpret it as and not the object itself.
This exchange illustrates how Jamy drew on knowledge of Allison and Marie, their placements, and the “fit” between the two, to construct opportunities for co-mediation. More specifically, Jamy’s mediation reflected her recognition of Marie’s tendency to uncritically latch onto ideas that appear “creative,” as well as her recognition of Allison’s tendency toward more critical, equity-focused reflection. Indeed, Jamy began by creating—through her open-ended question—a space for Marie to bring her experiential funds of knowledge into the supervision meeting as a resource for sense-making and hypothesizing intelligent action. Jamy subsequently invited Allison to draw on her critical and analytical capacities as resources for addressing Marie’s response, knowing that Allison’s contribution would likely take a particular form. Allison, in turn, responded by affirming Marie’s contribution and elaborating on it so that it more closely aligned with equity-minded concerns (Lines 15-17). Importantly, Jamy’s invitation likewise provided an opportunity for Allison to extend her own learning, as she was pressed to turn a critical lens on others’ practices and offer constructive, critical feedback—skills she would likely need in her own placement. In enabling such exchanges teacher educators’ goals might require, as they did here, organizing opportunities for co-mediation and then guiding PSTs so that they, as novices, can effectively support one another as learners, rather than assuming they can do so without structure and guidance.
Discussion
The above analysis documents one teacher educator’s facilitation of PST learning, as manifested in her interactions with two PSTs; in doing so, it offers a starting point for considering the context-specific nature of teacher educator mediation. It also begins to explore the relationship between teacher educator mediation and PST learning, generally speaking and in relation to critical reflection specifically. In doing so, it presents findings worthy of further discussion.
First, PSTs did not automatically see the connection between what and how teachers teach and what and how students learn; Marie especially struggled to move beyond description and to reflect critically on those connections. This finding adds to concerns—raised earlier—about a popular emphasis on clinical experience without a corollary emphasis on thoughtful, informed teacher education mediation vis-à-vis clearly defined learning goals. Indeed, nothing in this exploratory analysis nor the broader research base (Anderson & Stillman, 2013b) suggests that PSTs will come away from immersion or independent practice having learned what teacher educators hope they will (e.g., how to reflect critically on their practice and the structures of schooling).
To the contrary, our analysis draws attention to a critical and problematic aspect of PSTs’ development in situ—namely the degree to which situating PSTs’ learning in the field supports them to develop ideological clarity about teaching historically marginalized youth and pedagogical clarity grounded in ideological clarity. That this ideology–pedagogy connection proved troublesome for Marie signals it is likely problematic for other PSTs, especially those who do not come to teacher education with Allison’s well-developed critique of deficit and assimilationist ideologies, critical assessment of schools’ role in perpetuating inequality, and commitment to academically rigorous and culturally responsive instruction. Thus, while field placements may present PSTs with meaningful opportunities to learn, our analysis suggests teacher educator mediation has an important role to play in determining whether those opportunities yield intended PST learning and encourage the kinds of critical reflection that scholars have illustrated are essential to equity-minded teaching (Cochran-Smith, 1991; Milner, 2003a, 2003b; Sleeter, 2009).
This issue is especially relevant today, as practice-based approaches gain momentum as a way to increase TEPs’ “clinical richness” (see, for example, Ball & Forzani, 2009; NCATE, 2010). Indeed, while practice-based approaches are particularly well-positioned to facilitate PSTs’ development of pedagogical clarity, focusing on “core practices” also stands to undercut PSTs’ attention to culture and context’s role in learning—a topic about which teachers must possess ideological clarity if equity remains a goal (Zeichner, 2012). Teacher educators’ contextually sensitive mediation therefore takes on just as much importance in practice-based approaches as in more traditional forms of student teaching. Simply put, an emphasis on practice alone will never be enough.
In addition, variation in the form, function, and focus of this one teacher educator’s facilitation in relation to one TEP’s goal to prepare critically reflective practitioners underscores the time- and labor-intensive adaptive work involved in tailoring mediation to specific learners and placements, not to mention tailoring mediation so that PSTs can productively support one another’s learning. As research suggests (Borko et al., 1992), such tailoring depends upon deep and nuanced knowledge about PSTs as learners, about placements as contexts for learning, and about the fit between PSTs/learners and placements/contexts. This research finding often undergirds the very existence of “specialized” TEPs, which purport to prepare PSTs explicitly for urban, high-needs schools. And yet, across the broad literature base, schools are often categorized using only vague descriptors (e.g., urban, low-performing, high-needs) that serve as a kind of shorthand for conditions (e.g., a high concentration of students from a particular socio-economic status) that are assumed to be shared by schools bearing similar descriptors (Anderson & Stillman, 2013b; Milner, 2012). Likewise, research on student teaching specifically tends to characterize PSTs using similarly vague descriptors (e.g., “predominantly white”) that index complex assumptions about the cultural and experiential resources (or lack thereof) that PSTs bring to teacher education (Castro, 2010; Lowenstein, 2009). Such categories rarely convey the kinds of information—about contexts, learners, and the fit between the two—that teacher educators need to support PSTs’ learning. Allison and Marie, for example, attended the same “highly selective” TEP, shared relatively similar demographic profiles and student taught at the same grade level in schools only blocks apart. Yet, they were exposed to starkly different classrooms, CTs, and schools, and experienced those contexts in notably personal ways, depending upon the cultural, linguistic and experiential resources they brought into teacher education. In turn, facilitating their respective learning required different things of Jamy.
Of course, it would be remiss to overlook the conditions that enabled Jamy’s attempts at learner-responsive, contextually sensitive facilitation; Jamy worked in a small TEP, supervised a small number of PSTs with whom she met frequently in small groups, visited placement sites regularly, and was able to draw on prior knowledge of PSTs and placements alike. Likewise, we are not suggesting that Jamy provided “perfect” mediation. Indeed, each example above offers only a snapshot of a single teacher educator’s rather micro moves, aimed at pressing PSTs to take steps forward toward more responsive/equity-minded teaching. None of the examples are meant to suggest that “finish lines” have been reached, whether regarding the PSTs’ development or Jamy’s mediation; rather, examples are better understood as evidencing points along a continuum of development and places from which to build out further mediation.
For example, the interactions around morning meetings capture early and small, but also important steps by Marie toward more critical practice—practice we hope would evolve to include more than just making adjustments within the structure of morning meeting. Although beyond the bounds of our data, we imagine, for example, subsequent interactions focusing on supporting Marie to transform morning meeting entirely, such that it explicitly and critically engages and brings to the center community funds of knowledge, thereby shifting dynamics inside the classroom and challenging the school’s overall tendency to privilege the voices of more affluent families. This imagining helps to underscore the role that teacher educators’ contextually sensitive, small moves might play, over time, in supporting PSTs along an inevitably longer journey to equity-minded teaching.
In this sense, our hope is that our analysis helps generate awareness of and interest in the adaptive work teacher education requires (even under arguably favorable conditions), and also in some of the questions with which we continue to grapple. These include questions about learner-context fit and about tailoring mediation to PSTs’ zones of proximal development. For example, did Jamy’s facilitation sufficiently leverage Allison’s existing knowledge in the facilitation of new learning, and how could Jamy have pressed Allison to learn and do more? To what degree and how did Jamy’s facilitation of Marie’s learning press Marie forward? And, what connections might there be between Jamy’s approaches and those times when Marie seemed more defensive and less open to learning—an especially common response among PSTs when issues of power and privilege are raised?
Needless to say, and as the literature has long suggested (Feiman-Nemser & Buchmann, 1987; Zeichner & Conklin, 2005), most TEPs are not structured, nor resourced to enable teacher educators to experience the kind of proximity that Jamy experienced or the space to reflect critically on how that proximity shaped her practice and PST learning. Recognizing the complex knowledge on which adaptive mediation draws and the time and skill involved in providing it raises questions about the reform and renewal of teacher education. Certainly, efforts to make field experiences more practice-based (e.g., Ball & Forzani, 2009) and more community-centered illustrate the potential to decrease the number of required field placements and CTs, thereby increasing teacher educators’ proximity to contexts and learners. They also illustrate possibilities for making more concrete and visible to teacher educators PSTs’ developing practice. Indeed, these innovations stand to alleviate some of the heavy burden that traditional “triad” models of student teaching tend to place on individual teacher educators, especially in large TEPs (Valencia et al., 2009).
Still, the necessary complexity of teacher educator mediation raises questions about how we might make the intensive work of facilitating student teacher learning more manageable, regardless of approach/model (e.g., traditional “triad,” practice-based, community-based, and so on). Drawing on our theoretical framework, our analysis seems to underscore the potential importance of tools—such as reflective journals—that cross K-12 and university boundaries and provide opportunities for building intersubjectivity and generating resonance around shared goals. Indeed, journals helped to make PSTs’ student teaching experiences more transparent to Jamy and also served as essential pivots around which Jamy organized her mediation to press toward more equitable opportunities to learn, encourage more critical reflection, and support more specific and sophisticated future “intelligent action” by PSTs.
Conclusion
Rather than focusing on the attainment of coherence in teacher education (Grossman et al., 2008) or on where to place student teachers (Ronfeldt, 2012), this exploratory analysis focuses on the role that individual teacher educators’ strategic mediation can play in generating resonance as PSTs—given where they are placed—navigate diverse and dynamic contexts. In analyzing student teaching from a socio-cultural perspective, we sought to examine the interplay between individual learners and context(s). In turn, our analysis corroborates others’ claims about the importance of teacher educators articulating clear goals regarding what PSTs ought to learn, in this case from student teaching specifically. It also sheds some light on how teacher educators draw on deep knowledge of learners and learning contexts as they strive to ensure that student teaching experiences are maximally educative in alignment with TEP goals.
Given what findings reveal about Marie’s tentative and scaffolded forays into more critical reflection and Allison’s increasingly sophisticated plans for intelligent action, this research takes an initial step toward addressing gaps in the literature concerning what teacher educators do to mediate particular kinds of development and how they go about doing it. Extending this line of inquiry holds promise for generating insights that will leave teacher educators and policymakers better positioned to manage student teaching’s complexities, to avoid oversimplifying the practices that accompany student teaching, and to ensure PSTs’ learning needs are met so that they may meet the needs of their own students.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.