In a hurry

This is the 13th post in Over a Cuppa, a series which offers prompts to reflect on learning and teaching during the time it takes to make and drink a cuppa. Cross-posted from Teche, original artwork by Fidel Fernando.

Since mid-February, once a week (other than a fortnightly mid-session break) I have posted 300 or so words for Over a cuppa, a series of prompts to reflect on learning and teaching during the time it takes to make and drink a cuppa.

The posts have been focussed on the practice of teaching, rather than students’ reflections for learning. My starting point was a belief that reflective practice is a learned skill, as outlined in Macquarie University’s Professional Learning and Capability Enhancement (PLaCE) Framework, which includes the following capabilities from Foundational to Expert levels:

  • Articulate the principles of, approaches to, and the values of, reflective practice.
  • Reflect on own teaching, learning support and/or curriculum/assessment design practices.
  • Explain actions taken in response to reflection on, and in, practice.
  • Engage in sustained reflection on own educational practices and critique actions taken in response.
  • Implement strategies to promote a culture that values reflective practice.
  • Develop and support the strategic and systematic embedding of reflexivity into educational practice.

I have read (or reread) several books, including Schön’s (1983) The Reflective Practitioner; hook’s (1994) Teaching to Transgress; Brookfield’s (2017) Becoming a critically reflective teacher; Carter’s (2020) Academic Identity and the Place of Stories, as well as numerous journal articles.

I also linked to an interview with Stephen Brookfield, poetry, a meditation, creative non-fiction and my favourite tools for reflective practice – the Teaching Perspectives Inventory, ImaginePhD and the AdvanceHE comprehensive scholarly practice guide.

For each post, my colleague Fidel Fernando created an original digital artwork. Here is a time lapse video of Fidel creating the image for this post:

https://echo360.org.au/media/019d8a01-4bdc-4a38-8434-ed6170ef15d8/public

The reading, writing and drawing that has contributed to these posts belies the fact that this was reflection in a hurry. My initial plans for the series went off-piste as my ‘writing along the way’ took me in unexpected directions, and some of the posts include aphorisms – Put on your teaching cloak, Don’t be the wizard behind the curtain – inspired by conversations with colleagues.

There is still a lot of reflection to be done and the series will continue at the end of July. I am looking forward to finishing Ashwin et al’s (2020) Reflective Teaching in Higher Education and posting about Mary Ryan’s work on reflexivity and Marina Harvey’s ecology of reflection.

In the meantime I want to catch up on some Slow Academic posts that have been sitting in my drafts folder for several months. Slow by name, and slow by nature.

Reflection as a circle

This is the 12th post in Over a Cuppa, a series which offers prompts to reflect on learning and teaching during the time it takes to make and drink a cuppa. Cross-posted from Teche, original artwork by Fidel Fernando.

Writing these posts over the last three months has provided the opportunity to read a body of literature on reflective practice. One shape dominates models and frameworks for reflection: the circle. Gibb’s (1988) cycle for reflection has been influential:

Image: Harvey, Lloyd, McLachlan, Semple & Walkerden (2020)

In developing his model for reflection, Gibbs was influenced by cyclical models of learning, Kolb’s (1984) for experiential learning:

Image: Harvey, Lloyd, McLachlan, Semple & Walkerden (2020)

A circle is a way of representing the ongoing and iterative practice of reflection in action, on action and for action (Schön, 1983; Killion & Todnem, 1991). It invites repeated experimentation and learning from experience. Kemmis and McTaggart’s (1988) action research spiral takes it to the next level in a model of multiple circles:

Image: Koshy (2011)

Does your reflective practice feel circular? What do you need to put in place to make it an ongoing practice?

Next week, the last over a cuppa post before a pause for the session break, I will reflect on this series of posts, the experience of writing them in a hurry, and unfinished reflections to continue next semester.

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Gibbs, G. (1988). Learning by Doing: A guide to teaching and learning methods. Oxford: Centre for Staff and Learning Development, Oxford Brookes University. https://thoughtsmostlyaboutlearning.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/learning-by-doing-graham-gibbs.pdf

Harvey, M., Lloyd, K., McLachlan, K., Semple, A-L. & Walkerden, G. (2020). Reflection for learning: a scholarly practice guide for educators. AdvanceHE.https://www.advance-he.ac.uk/news-and-views/Learning-to-reflect%E2%80%93a-guide-for-educators

Kolb, DA (1984). Experiential Learning: experience as the source of learning and development. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Koshy, V. (2011). Action Research for Improving Educational Practice, 2nd edition. London: Sage.

Don’t be the wizard behind the curtain

This is the 8th post in Over a cuppa, a series which offers prompts to reflect on learning and teaching during the time it takes to make and drink a cuppa. I have set myself the challenge of keeping these posts to 300 or so words. Cross-posted from Teche, original artwork by Fidel Fernando.

For those who recently had a mid-semester break in teaching, I hope it offered a chance to refill your cup. Sit down and take a sip.

Today’s prompt to reflect on your learning and teaching is based on an anecdote. Anecdotes are one of my favourite pedagogical tools. Stories, musing out loud, thought bubbles, and flights of fancy can offer powerful ways of learning—but take note of who is allowed to do these things the classroom!

I am reminded of Maggie Nelson’s comments in her 2015 memoir The Argonauts:

Sometimes, when I’m teaching, when I interject a comment without anyone calling on me, without caring that I just spoke a moment before, or when I interrupt someone to redirect the conversation away from an eddy I personally find fruitless, I feel high on the knowledge that I can talk as much as I want to, as quickly as I want to, in any direction that I want to, without anyone overtly rolling her eyes at me or suggesting I go to speech therapy. I’m not saying this is good pedagogy. I am saying that its pleasures are deep.

I often use this quote as a prompt to stop talking and listen.

I’ve watched the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz countless times. I have taught it in a visual culture course, it was my daughter’s favourite film as a toddler (I was the wicked witch at her third birthday), and I celebrated my PhD with a plaque of Scarecrow’s qualification. The Wizard awards Scarecrow (who doesn’t have a brain) a “Doctor of Thinkology” sign enabling him to ‘think deep thoughts”:

Image

There’s a wonderful scene in The Wizard of Oz in which Toto pulls back the curtain to reveal that the “great and powerful” Oz is just an old man pulling levers.

As a reflection on teaching: don’t be the wizard shouting behind the curtain! Make your learning visible to students, and demonstrate that it is ok not to have all the answers. Teachers and students can come to knowing together.