Diamond Art Painting Workshop

Diamond Art Painting Workshop

https://edst.educ.ubc.ca/events/event/diamond-art-painting-workshop/

Reclaiming Voice: Power, Representation, and the Politics of Collaboration in Educational Policy

Title:  Reclaiming Voice: Power, Representation, and the Politics of Collaboration in Educational Policy

Auhor: Daljit Gill-Badesha, EdD


Abstract
:  This article critically explores the tensions between collaboration and representation in educational policy development. Drawing on practitioner research and creative expression, the author examines how collaborative spaces can reinforce systems of inequity by privileging certain voices over others. Through personal reflection from the author’s doctoral journey, social constructionism, and Critical Race Theory, the author interrogates who is invited to speak, who is heard, and whose knowledge is legitimized in policy processes. The article includes a poem titled ‘Don’t Speak for Me’ to illustrate the emotional and political dimensions of being spoken for. Ultimately, it calls for an ethical and reflexive approach to collaboration, one that honours lived experience as a form of authority and power.

Keywords: Educational Policy, Voice, Collaboration, Intersectionality, Critical Race Theory, Positionality, Representation, Social Constructionism, Lived Experience, Power.


Introduction

Educational policy increasingly invokes the language of collaboration, equity, and inclusion. Yet the lived experiences of those most affected by these policies are often left out of policy development or are included only in tokenistic ways. This disconnect is more than a design flaw; it reflects a deeper epistemic and political tension: who gets to speak, who is spoken for, and who is authorized to represent “community” within education policy?

This article critically examines these problematics through a personal and scholarly lens. As a racialized woman working in multi-organizational settings, I have repeatedly seen how educational policies attempt to include diverse voices while simultaneously silencing or even co-opting them. Drawing on my dissertation research and the poetic expression ‘Don’t Speak for Me’, I explore how power, positionality, and discourse shape collaborative practice and stakeholder participation. Using a social constructionist and intersectional framework, I reflect on what it means to bring one’s full self into policy and collaboration, and perhaps more importantly, what is lost when we do not.

In doing so, this article does not merely advocate for better inclusion mechanisms. It offers a reimagining of collaborative policy development that is not only technically inclusive but emotionally and politically accountable.

Reflective Practice

The UBC – EDLP (University of British Columbia, Educational Leadership and Policy) program is designed to provide doctoral students with space to reflect on their practice, through theory and back to practice. The journey affords the opportunity to find one’svoice in writing and research. The program allowed me to unpack my beliefs, biases, and assumptions so that I am not bound by my limiting definitions of leadership. The process enabled me to identify values that influence me as a practitioner and researcher (Harding, 1992; Saban, 2000; Smith, 2005). The process of exploration and uncovering my assumptions (Butin, 2010) shifted how I understand and frame my practice. Having this reflexive standpoint helped me to situate my location and shaped the questions I asked(Harding, 1992), such as – who am I? And what do I bring to my practice and my research study as a racialized woman?

This line of inquiry fostered a deeper exploration to unpack my identity, history, and roots and empowered me to write from the positionality of a racialized woman. I found my voice as an educator, collaborator, and activist in my research and practice (Joshee, 2008). I gained a deeper understanding of my leadership and values. I reimagined leadership that embodies my roots as a South Asian leader, incorporating dil (a Punjabi word that means heart), rueh (a Punjabi word that means spirit or emotional health, pronounced roo), seva (a Punjabi word that means selfless service) and kaum (a Punjabi word that means community, collectiveness or nation). I unpacked how, in addition to my academic and professional experiences, my worldview is shaped by my experiencesgrowing up as a South Asian woman who comes from an immigrant family from India. My cultural identity and religious background, as a Punjabi Sikh woman, is steeped in an Eastern worldview that is deeply personal and foundational, underpinning my leadership practice. 

If the goals of educational policy are to be inclusive, then utilizing Arnstein’s typology of citizen participation with the metaphorical “ladder,” with each rung representing increased levels of citizen agency, control, and power, provides a continuum of how to get from exclusion to inclusion. Arnstein’s ladder of citizen participation (1969) outlines a range or continuum of participatory power that moves from nonparticipation (no power) to degrees of citizen participation (actual power). This range can be informative to outline where and how individuals are given voice and access to power, and to make decisions for themselves and their communities. It is a part of enabling democratic participation in policy. However, power can take many forms and orientations (Gray and Purdy, 2018),and at times, power over can dominate in our current structures. For example, when designing services for refugee children and their families, it is often the decision-makers (with or without lived experience) who choose service models, without including those being served in the planning process (Gill-Badesha, 2023). Gill-Badesha’s (2023) dissertation outlines a case study where co-design by including the intended service recipients, helped inform the positive planning and trajectory of a multi-agency collaborative involving stakeholders from education, health, government, and non-profits. 

I argue that the goals of diverse participation require individuals to undergo reflective practice to locate themselves in planning and design, to enable inclusive educational policies and collaborations, from the outset. It is an interrogation that becomes crucial,and questions such as, who is allowed/has power/has privilege to speak and who speaks for others, must be asked if inclusion is an intended outcome. As a racialized leader, I have not always spoken up for myself and have conceded to the powerful and dominant voices in the room and seen this happen with other racialized leaders who are not given authority or credit for their viewpoints. For example, a racialized non-profit leader speaks out on behalf of their clients who are refugees and is overlooked until a dominant, White voice amplifies their message (Gill-Badesha, 2023). Reflecting on my experiences has strengthened my voice, where I feel empowered to include more of my whole self in public policy environments, and reflective practice can benefit other racialized leaders to do the same.

Educational policies aspiring for individual and systemic mechanisms of inclusion require a shift in power for all to participate. In situations of collaboration, Burr’s (2015)social constructionism surfaces where leadership behaviours are constructed within a social space and through interactions with others. These interactions with others shape our behaviours and actions. We need to consider how these interactions ultimately shape leadership and educational outcomes. Furthermore, Burr (2015) asserts that the “different constructions of the world can be judged only in relation to each other and not by comparison with some ultimate standard or truth” (p. 93), a sentiment consistent that there is no one leadership approach in education and richness arises from a multiplicity of voices and approaches.

The doctoral journey spurred a creative voice where I found authenticity and positionality to feel real and sometimes raw but grounding to who I am as a racialized woman. I have discovered a space to voice my power, while acknowledging my positionality. With a renewed sense of voice, the power of poetic expression serves as a tool for holistic expression. My voice is not limited to creative writing, and in fact, flows into my leadership practice and impacts how I show up as a racialized leader. I share one poem that embodies my voice, representation, and power.

Don’t Speak for Me

I have a voice.


Don’t speak for me,
you don’t know my dreams,
my worries,
or my hopes.


Don’t speak for me,
if you haven’t taken the time to understand 

how I think,
how I act,

or how I love.

Don’t speak for me
if you haven’t felt the pressure of being not enough,
or have been told to your face,

that you are less than others.

Don’t speak for me
if you have not walked beside me,
or helped me get back up,
or shared my burden,
so I that I am not carrying it all alone.

Don’t speak for me
if you have not stumbled,
or fallen,
or been so hurt that your insides ache

that your outside world crumbles.

Don’t speak for me
if you haven’t had to apologize 

for something you did not do,
but it was your duty 

to take the responsibility
on behalf of others.

Don’t speak for me
if you haven’t had to keep a secret,
in order to preserve the family,

where their honour meant more than yours.

Don’t speak for me
if you haven’t held me close,
while I wailed from the depths of my soul,
and longed to be nurtured,
but you didn’t help me. 

Don’t speak for me
if you haven’t touched my hand 

and felt the spark of love flowing from my heart,

waiting to envelope all around me,

and to be validated into existence.

Don’t speak for me
If your privilege is more powerful than mine.

Don’t speak for me.
Because if you have not done these things,
you don’t know me.
Which means,
you can’t represent me.

Don’t speak for me.
I have my own voice.
And I’ll find my own privilege.

(written by the author)

Through this poetic expression, I argue individuals must be given space to speak for themselves, and attempts to represent others do not, in any way, bring the lived and diverse experiences, in particular, racialized women, to the forefront. In socially constructed collaborative spaces, reflection and power, rooted in nontraditional forms and experiences, can invite participation supporting inclusive aims. 

Collaboration and Intersectionality

Collaboration, as a practice, is situated in the broader socio-political-economic and historical policy ecosystem, which are rooted in Western notions of competition, individualization, and marketization that are part of the calls for collaboration (Weaver-Hightower, 2008). Community-based contexts and policies continue to move towards collaboration across diverse stakeholders, stemming from policy aims, creating both opportunities and challenges for organizations and individuals alike. The K-12 Anti-Racism Action Plan, a provincial initiative launched in 2023, serves as one policy example where the goal is to have safer and more inclusive schools by addressing systemic racism and centering the voices of Indigenous, Black, and other racialized communities in education through increased representation, inclusion and collaboration(Government of British Columbia, 2023).

With the increasing focus on diverse participation in collaboration, the issues of power and positionality become essential to discuss. Having participated in many variations of multi-stakeholder collaboration, it has been an essential aspect of my leadership practicefor decades. However, situations of power over, exclusion, and marginalization are real, with pressure to conform and support the dominant voices and approaches. 

Diverse individuals bring ideologies to collaboration that can increase effectiveness or increase potential sources of conflict. Collaborative planning processes can include what Rittel and Webber (1973) consider a planning task built on figuring out the “right thing to do” (p. 159). They suggest the complexity of these processes is, in part, about the political negotiations in planning when it comes to addressing the intractable social issues of our society. In their view, the conflict in collaboration is about individuals and their “versions of goodness” (Rittel & Webber, 1973, p. 169), and I ask, how does one articulate these “versions of goodness” without space to reflect on personal values and ideals? Planning processes often have limited space, if at all, to discuss and navigate these negotiations.

Power Dynamics and Collaboration

In my dissertation (Gill-Badesha, 2023), I explored the notion of participant experiences of power dynamics within multi-stakeholder collaboration and how these experiences intersect within the broader socio-political-economic policy ecologies. This study highlighted that the power of interpersonal relationships, emotional connections to project goals, and the importance of personal commitments to overall project aims can alleviate and mitigate some of the negative power dynamics often occurring in collaborative spaces (Gill-Badesha, 2023). While the notion of collaboration is often presented as a seamless, productive, and homogenous practice of interdependent stakeholders who navigate differences, interests, and values to achieve mutual aims (Gray, 1989; Gray & Purdy, 2018); it is also a contested space where individuals negotiate clashing values, differing interests, varying power and politics, that can emerge to undermine and contaminate individual and group experiences. Individuals risk being blamed if things go awry or of critiquing the structural, power, or policy contexts. Individuals are left to negotiate and navigate a middle ground (Gray, 1989) without regard for the blurred boundaries, entanglements, and personal incongruences that can arise. I faced these challenges and the pressure to conform, while leaving my lived experiences and values out of the discussions. This only adds further complexity to an already messy practice, thwarting the potential of collaboration and distressing the individuals involved, or how individuals make meaning of their experiences.

Participant experiences can be understood considering Vivien Burr’s writings (2003; 2015) on social constructionism, a critical stance in the face of taken-for-granted ways of understanding the world, including oneself. As part of postmodern philosophy, social constructionism seeks to understand the processes by which people describe, explain, and, ultimately, view themselves and the world (Anderson, 2014; Legg & Stagaki, 2002). From a social constructionist perspective, there are no set or universal truths; rather, there are multiple “truths” that should be understood as socially, historically, and culturally constructed; what we view as the “truth” shapes how individuals view their personal circumstances and possible future courses of action (Larson & Anderson, 2019). It is this negotiation of multiple truths and positions that can shape participants’ experiences and the outcomes of collaboration. 

Intersectionality and Collaboration

The consideration of an intersectional lens of Critical Race Theory (CRT) can help to illuminate additional complexities and dynamics of power related to, but not limited to,race, colour, class, culture, gender, sexuality, religion, immigration status, and abilities (Tate, 1997). This lens can allow for a deeper examination of participants’ experiences and worldviews that may lead to an understanding of the challenges and tensions they experience, while also creating space to reflect and honour the histories, experiences, and knowledge that participants. Intersectionality also points to the political structures, systemic oppressions, and tropes that are at risk of being perpetuated in collaboration. A social constructionist approach combined with an intersectional framework can identify other circulating discourses present in institutions and overall political and societal constructions that are material conditions that can inform or intrude as policy is shaped. An intersectional examination could provide space to interrupt systems of oppression and privilege, as the configuration of individuals and institutions coming together is often representative of broader societal structures of privilege, domination, and oppression. 

In her article in the Washington Post entitled “Why Intersectionality Can’t Wait,” Crenshaw (2020) identified intersectionality as an analytical way of thinking about identity and its relationship to power for those reflecting on racism, sexism, class oppression, transphobia, ableism, and more, that generates debate and controversy. Cho et al. (2013) argued that intersectional approaches bring insights and processes into education and research that can illuminate the hidden and multilayered structures of power and domination through which knowledge is produced and disseminated. Educational policies aiming for inclusion can benefit from this analysis. 

Warmington et al. (2018) explored the personal reflections of educators and contributors who have worked to shift policy on race equality in educational policy in England over 20 years. And they concluded that “the vagaries of race equality policy in education could only be understood in relation to the wider politics of race, the wider history of race in Britain” (p. 424), arguing that there “is a need to examine the state of contemporary education in the ‘post-multicultural’ context, through a critical race-conscious lens” (p. 424). Their project interviews suggest that ‘the de-racialisation’ of research and policy has led to a slippage in tackling racial inequities” (Warmington, 2018, p. 424) and validates the notion of incorporating an intersectional conceptual framework to understand equitable participation in the systemic and political structures that may or may not create safe spaces for engagement. Aligned with this, Cho et al. (2013) assert that intersectional dynamics and discursive debates are important to impact future movements and social justice initiatives, and as part of the politics of knowledge. 

Furthermore, if we consider the role of gender in collaboration, and if there are women of colour involved, then Ngunjiri and Hernandez’s (2017) study illustrates the complexity of enacting authentic leadership for immigrant women of colour who are leaders within predominantly White institutional contexts. They include Black feminist thought to inform intersectional analysis for individuals to unpack their experiences at the nexus of gender, race/ethnicity, national origin, age, and other identities that are salient in the context of predominantly White institutions. While their focus was on contributing to authentic leadership theory, their study provides a consideration of incorporating intersectionality to situate the experiences of women and people of colour. They made recommendations on “striving for authentic leadership that utilizes multifocal lenses and lived experiences and fluidity of identities as standpoints from which to lead” (p. 403)within the context of lived experiences of systemic racism. The opportunity to locate oneself in histories and experiences can provide insight into the challenges and tensions of being a racialized woman leader. I include my poetry as an example to highlight this experience and encourage policymakers to consider how lived experiences can be amplified in educational policy and settings, not marginalized or muted.

Conclusion

If educational policy aspires to be inclusive and collaborative, it must do more than invite diverse voices to the table – it must critically examine the structures that determine whose voices are amplified, whose are muted, and whose are ventriloquized. My poem ‘Don’t Speak for Me’ captures the emotional and political cost of being spoken for, rather than heard. It is a protest and a plea – one that reflects broader systemic dynamics in education and public policy.

Through this article, I argue that collaboration in policy is not simply about designing better systems or consultation processes. It requires a radical shift in how we understand knowledge, voice, and power. Drawing on Critical Race Theory and social constructionism, I propose that educational policy must confront its complicity in reproducing inequalities. It must create space not only for lived experience but for lived authority, where there is recognition that people from marginalized communities are not objects of policy but co-creators of meaning, knowledge, and practice.

To collaborate authentically in educational contexts means to grapple with discomfort, to question who we assume we speak for, and to intentionally centre those who have historically been silenced. It means recognizing that voice is not just an input into policy but a form of power and legitimacy. And ultimately, it means acknowledging that no meaningful collaboration is possible without space for diverse voices and relational accountability.

 

The Unforeseen Consequences of School-Choice Policies: Social-Justice Principles and Year-Round Schooling

Title: The Unforeseen Consequences of School-Choice Policies: Social-Justice Principles and Year-Round Schooling

Author: Marilynne Waithman EdD

The story

This article tells the story of the implementation of year-round schooling (YRS) at an inner-city elementary school in British Columbia. The story is a synthesis of my retrospective critical-case study conducted as a scholar-practitioner leader and doctoral student in the UBC Department of Educational Studies. The study is directed toward educational leaders, practitioners, administrative bodies, and policy developers who work in partnership with government agencies and the public school system. The purpose of this retrospective study was to explore three topics which influence students’ learning and academic achievement within the public education system in general and designated inner-city schools in particular … the adoption of school-choice and open- boundary policies; the development of full-service year-round schooling, and the application of integrated social-justice principles. In this study, I report on the unforeseen negative consequences of the implementation of school-choice and open- boundary policies upon an inner-city school and explore the structural and discursive strategies implemented to address these outcomes.

Conceptual framework

The conceptual framework that I employed for my case study was that of social justice. I utilized Young’s (1990) work to define social justice as “the full participation and inclusion of everyone in a society’s major institutions, and the socially substantive opportunity for all to develop and exercise their capacities and realize their choices” (p.173). In this study, I approached social justice through the lens of key sensitizing concepts: recognitive, distributive, and representative justice concepts based on Nancy Fraser’s (2005) theorizing. Distributive justice speaks to issues of equality, equity, and need; recognitive social justice speaks to the matters of recognizing cultural differences, and in this case study, it directed attention to individual student need; and representative social justice refers to ensuring equal political voice. My study reported on an integrated approach to providing socially-just educational opportunities for children and it appraises, evaluates, and examines the structural and discursive approaches taken.

The questions

The study was guided by the following research questions: 1.) How did various interests and ideologies inform the introduction of school-choice and open-boundary policies and how did they support or inhibit redistribution and recognition at the school? What was the impact of these policies? 2.) What were the limits and possibilities of various structural strategies, such as year-round schooling, which were implemented to mitigate the negative impact of school choice and open-boundary policies? 3.) What were the limits and possibilities of various discursive strategies, such as efforts to change the school’s reputation internally and externally, that were implemented to mitigate the negative impact of school-choice and open- boundary policies? 4.) What recommendations can be made based on this case study, for a more socially just approach to open-boundary, school-choice, and public- education policy development?

Background and Context

The school at the center of this case study, KMCS (a pseudonym) is located in a public school district in the province of British Columbia. Its inner-city designation was granted by the Ministry of Education based on the socio-economic status of the students, many of whom lived in poverty. Its community-school designation was awarded upon application and required a relationship between the school and its external community. KMCS, an elementary school, recorded the highest or second highest percentage of students with special-needs, Aboriginal ancestry, and English Language Learners as well as accommodating the highest percentage of transient students within the school district.

During my tenure at KMCS, school-choice and open-boundary policies had become institutionalized within the school district. Choice-program offerings across the district include French Immersion, Montessori, fine arts, traditional education, sports academies, international baccalaureate, and outdoor education. For purposes of this work, I describe school-choice policy as the policy crafted by the Board of Trustees of a public school district that permits children to register at schools-of-choice offering specialized programs developed under the auspices of the Board. Brown (2004) describes open boundary policies in B.C. as “the right to attend any public school as long as space is available” and explains how “this form of open enrolment . . . gives students who live within a catchment area first priority to attend their designated school” (p. 77). According to these policies, parents were guaranteed two rights. First, they had the right to select an alternate school for their children, and second, children residing in a particular neighborhood were guaranteed access to a seat in their designated neighborhood school.

It is my contention that KMCS was negatively affected by school-choice policies and my challenge as a school administrator was to respond. Choice policy is contentious within public education. Some educators have come to believe that school choice is essential to encourage change within a uniform and bureaucratic system (Merrifield, Dare, & Hepburn, 2006). Proponents furthermore assert that through school choice, competition and the marketization of schools will result in improved student achievement in all schools (Bergstrom & Sandstrom, 2002; Coulson, 2001; Merrifield et al., 2006; Yair, 1996); that choice programs permit space for specific educational interests (Raham, 2002); and that they improve student achievement (Dosdall, 2001). Critics of school choice point to the lack of attention given to the impact of school choice upon the issues of equity and social justice (Bomotti, 1998); the lack of equal student accessibility to schools due to transportation issues (Maguire, 2006); and the negative impact on neighboring schools when high achievers leave one school to cluster in a school-of-choice (Hargreaves & Fink, 2006). Others have pointed to the tendency of selective admission policies to discriminate against low-achieving students (Maguire, 2006) and argue that “choice initiatives further diminish the power of urban educators to effectively and equitably meet the needs of children in the urban context” (Horn, 2006, p. 188). In this report, I elaborate on these key assertions in the debate on school choice and evaluate them based on my experience at KMCS.

The Rationale for Change at KMCS

The implementation of a choice program featuring a fine-arts curriculum at the neighbouring public-school lead to a population decline which resulted in reduced funding and a stratified student population that required additional special-education services.  While many of the “best practices to help meet the needs of children living in poverty” had been initiated at KMCS, low student academic achievement remained a concern.  The need for change also grew from the fact that students at KMCS lived and learned in an inner-city community where poverty and other related problems influenced daily life and where children and their families depended upon and trusted the school to provide consistent social and educational support.  Current research emphasized the crucial relationship between time and learning and reminded educators that students, particularly disadvantaged students, experience a summer-learning loss; YRS could increase learning time for certain students. And finally, the proposal was based on the knowledge that support from the school-district senior management team, the business community, and service organizations external to the school was essential to success.

A Proposal for Change at KMCS

During my tenure at KMCS I developed a proposal to re-structure the school calendar. The proposal was approved as a pilot by the Board of Trustees. The intent of the calendar change, as part of a comprehensive plan to improve student achievement and learning, was to provide socially-just educational opportunities for the students at KMCS. At that time, I was not explicit in naming social justice concepts in this proposal; rather, I had envisioned full-service year-round schooling at KMCS for pragmatic reasons and at the time of writing, I simply understood that our students were marginalized, that our school was resource poor, and that as the school leader I felt responsible for addressing these inequities. The overall goals of the calendar-restructuring proposal were developed to provide equitable learning opportunities for KMCS students and to improve the school climate; the goals were intended to improve student achievement, reduce student misbehaviors, improve community support systems, enhance professional practice, and improve staff wellness through the implementation of a single-track year-round calendar.

Year-Round Schedules 

Year-round school schedules are centered on re-organizing the academic year to provide more continuous learning for children. The calendar is organized into instructional periods and vacation weeks that are balanced across a 12-month period by reducing the summer vacation and redistributing those vacation weeks throughout the year. The curriculum and the number of days of instruction are identical to the traditional calendar. Intersessions, the periods between terms organized through redistributing the summer vacation days from the traditional calendar, are a structural component of a year-round schedule. Intersession weeks can be utilized as vacation days or developed into remedial or enrichment programs or a combination of these. The schedule allows schools to remain open year-round to provide additional learning and recreational opportunities for students. YRS creates a consistent environment in which children can be supported and guided along a 12-month continuum wherein educators and community members, in partnership with parents and caregivers, are empowered to enhance the social and educational environments which contribute to children’s well-being.

The YRS Program at KMCS

The program timeline and actions were based on the knowledge that simply rearranging the school calendar would have no effect on student achievement. To increase student achievement and reduce student misbehaviors it was essential to establish a year-round calendar; offer remedial intersessions in October, March, May and July; embed professional development and enhance professional practice by rearranging the weekly schedule to allow for the early dismissal of classes one day each week. The early dismissal plan would include day-care provisions for primary students and extracurricular programs for intermediate students; offer a more protected environment for students by providing connections to the school on a sustained and continuous basis; provide an innovative climate in which parents, staff, and community-support agencies could pilot creative programming; sustain a community-based model which encompasses the resources of numerous partner agencies; and cause minimal fiscal impact to the KMCS budget.

Data collection

Conducting my analysis of the challenges and benefits of YRS required the utilization of publicly available sources of empirical data, school-based achievement data, and engagement in the systematic collection of personal data. A range of sources provided quantitative information relevant to my study (Ministry of Education, Census Canada, school-district archival records). Essential to this analysis was my extensive collection of personal records including a diary with meeting dates and agendas, attendance records, personal memos, pertinent emails, budget information, Board of Trustees reports, photographs, conference proceedings and newspaper articles.

My Findings

The specificity of focus of a case study proved to be valuable in analyzing, critiquing, assessing, and reporting on my practice and enabling me to enter conversations with educators as I explored my research questions. My first question asked the following: “How did the various interests and ideologies inform the introduction of school-choice and open-boundary policies, how did they either support or inhibit redistribution and recognition at the school, and what was the impact of these policies?”  To answer these questions, I examined the claims made by both proponents and critics of these policies (Lubienski, 2006; Maguire, 2006; Merrifield &Hepburn, 2006) and explicated five key assumptions with respect to the benefits of school-choice policies and schools-of-choice that are not supported by empirical research.  The assumption that schools-of-choice provide a better education than neighbourhood schools; parents always make informed choices around school selection; the exit of children from a neighbourhood school will not harm that school; competition will automatically improve schools; and schools-of-choice policies will provide equal opportunity and access for all students are not supported by empirical data.

My second research question asked, “What were the limits and possibilities of various structural strategies such as YRS, which were implemented to mitigate the negative impact of school-choice and open boundary policies”? In answer, KMCS was organized as a single-track YRS that was designed to meet student needs and to respond to their academic and social struggles, rather than to provide efficient scheduling.  The YRS schedule was undergirded by a community-school initiative that provided funding and staffing to assist in the implementation of academic and social-support initiatives, as well as a host of volunteers, service groups and corporate sponsors that provided direct assistance to students and their families. While the changes were structural and primarily focused on economics, in theory, they also required an orientation to recognitive and representative social justice and the principle of parity-of-participation. Growth in academic-achievement scores supported the contention that structural changes were beneficial to KMCS students.

My third research question asked, “What were the limits and possibilities of various discursive strategies, such as efforts to change the school’s reputation internally and externally, that were implemented to mitigate the negative impact of school choice and open- boundary policies”? In answer, I described my successful efforts to shift the discourse at the school and in the community from a deficit orientation towards a capacity-building approach. Discursive strategies were grounded in social-justice and were reflected in discussions and initiatives addressing pedagogy, communities of difference, equity, and privilege.

My final research question asked, “What recommendations can be made based on this case study, for a more socially just approach to open-boundary, school-choice, and public- education policy development”? In answer, I recommend the provision of social-justice education for all practitioners and administrators; the evaluation of the impact of proposed learning initiatives and policies through a social-justice framework prior to implementation; compensation for schools that experience negative repercussions from the implementation of choice policies; study into the relationship between time and learning including the implementation of full- service year-round schooling; and, differentiated hiring practice for schools with high-needs populations.

From Research to Practice:   In closing, I offer guidelines for educators who are considering the implementation of a full-service year-round calendar:

  • Implementing a balanced-calendar schedule is a political issue within the parent community, the neighborhood, and the educational community. A school principal advocating for year-round education is more likely to garner support if the initiative involves staff and parents from the outset.
  • Successfully implementing a YRS calendar requires a leader or principal with expertise, personal courage, and positive relationships with staff. Personal courage is required to deal with the challenges and criticisms put forward when an initiative results in a change in policies and procedures.
  • The demands upon personal and professional time extend beyond the expectations of an administrator working within a ten-month school year. The availability of increased clerical support is essential to assist with the increased workload.
  • An intersession coordinator, other than the principal, is essential if a comprehensive full-service program is planned. The coordinator requires teacher credentials and expertise in curricular areas if the intersession programs are academic in nature.
  • Teachers-on-call may be in abundance during summer months since beginning teachers may seek work to supplement their incomes.
  • Beginning teachers, at the elementary school level, who are available for intersession and summer work, are often university graduates with current training in the areas of literacy and numeracy. Their ability to contribute to conversations around pedagogical practices and current research findings can be valuable to school staff.
  • Special-services employees who work on a ten-month contract can schedule individual student assessments and remediation programs during intersessions; therefore, students receive the mandated level of support throughout the school year. This procedure allows specialized staff to meet their obligations to students within a ten-month time frame.
  • Teaching staff must be informed that their pension income status should be examined if they plan to retire from a balanced-calendar schedule.  Income may be adjusted if the number of months of pensionable employment is recalculated
  • Fiscal issues alter capital and operational expenses as follows: intersession programs require paid certified teachers as opposed to volunteer instructors; additional clerical support is required during intersessions; additional custodial support may be required throughout the year; maintenance costs increase due to increased usage of facilities.
  • At KMCS, offering intersession programming was contingent upon successful grant writing and through garnering financial support from service agencies and corporate sponsorships. Variable costs that would be borne by a host school district include staffing, recreation, supplies, and meals.
  • The implementation of year-round schooling can be contentious and may require adjustments to collective agreements with professional and para-professional groups.  The support of these groups is essential to the adoption of a re-structured calendar change.
  • Parents must be informed and included in discussions if a calendar change is proposed within a school that operates on a traditional calendar.
  • It is essential that administrators in the human resources department of a school district commit to providing a range of assistance to teachers and support staff.  Staff currently employed within the school may not support calendar change.  These individuals must be assisted in transferring to a school with a traditional calendar.
  • Author Biography: Marilynne Waithman EdD is an Adjunct Professor in the Educational Studies Department at UBC.  She is an educator whose career and post-graduate studies are focused on leadership, academic research, professional ethics, policy studies, social justice, special education, and community service; an administrator who has provided leadership across the post-secondary education system, the K -12 public education system, international education, and the community-service sector.  The Canadian Association for the Study of Educational Administration (CASEA) awarded Marilynne the Thomas B. Greenfield Distinguished Dissertation Award for this retrospective case study.

References

Brown, D. (2004). School choice under open enrollment. Kelowna: British Columbia.

Society for Advancement of Excellence in Education.

Bergstrom, F., & Sandstrom, F. M. (2002). School choice works! The case of Sweden

(1st ed.). Indianapolis, Indiana: Milton and Rose D. Friedman Foundation.

Retrieved August 20, 2006 from http://www.friedman.org

Bomotti, S. (1998). Pondering the complexities of school choice. Phi Delta Kappan,

80(4), 313-316.

Coulson, A. J. (2001). Market education and the public good. Can the market save our   

schools? (1st ed., pp. 53-72). Vancouver: The Fraser Institute.

Dosdall, E. (2001). Edmonton’s enterprise. School Administrator, 58(5), 6-11.

Fraser, N. (2001). Social justice in the knowledge society: Redistribution, recognition and

participation. Retrieved from www.WISSENGELLSCHAFT.org

Hargreaves, A., & Fink, D. (2006). The ripple effect. Educational Leadership, 63(8), 16-21.

Lubienski, C. (2006). School diversification in second-best education markets: International

evidence and conflicting theories of change. Educational Policy, 20(2), 323-343.

Maguire, P. (2006). Choice in urban school systems: The Edmonton experience. Kelowna:

Society for the Advancement of Excellence in Education.

Merrifield, J., Dare, M., & Hepburn, C. R. (2006). Why Canadian education isn’t improving.

 Vancouver: The Fraser Institute. Retrieved November 17, 2008 from www.fraserinstitute.ca

Raham, H. (2002). Decentralization and choice in Sweden’s school system: Policy lessons for

Canada. Kelowna, B.C.: Society for the Advancement in Education.

Yair, G. (1996). School organization and market ecology: A realist sociological look at the

infrastructure of school choice. British Journal of Sociology of Education, 17(4), 453- 471.

Young, I. M. (1990). Justice and the politics of difference. Princeton: Princeton U. Press.

 

The Reflective Journey Continues: Travelling Betwixt and Between Conflicting Worlds in Educational Leadership

Title: The Reflective Journey Continues: Travelling Betwixt and Between Conflicting Worlds in Educational Leadership

Author: John Fleming, EdD

“The growing influence of neoliberalism in post-secondary education has changed the definition of both education and educational leadership, moving each further away from values of participatory democracy toward educational practices that are antithetical to such principles. Under neoliberal conditions, education becomes a commodified resource in a global marketplace, impacting identities and relationships alike: students become customers, faculty are contractors, and administrators are corporate managers” (Fleming, 2021, p. iii).

What follows are my final reflections on the autoethnography that was my EdD dissertation, which were grounded in a Sociological Imagination (Mills, 1959, 2000) thatexplored and confronted the dissonance characteristic of my leadership experience as a dean in post-secondary education. A key claim in my study is that educational leadership must be reconstructed as a plural identity allowing one to exercise judgement in multiple worlds, holding conflicting values and practices, contributing to furthering education as democracy, when possible (Fleming, 2021).

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Time has a way of shaping how we look back and how we look forward.  Time before today is history; tomorrow is the imagined future.  Both are equally important in the stories of our lives.  Our individual and collective biographies are grounded in time, place and structure.  It is what allows us to bring meaning to the stories of our lives.  

My story is both a biography and a study.  It is the story of my experiences and the meaning I have given to them.  It is equally a study in that I have attempted to address a personal trouble within the larger social milieu.  In doing so, I aimed to contribute to a better understanding of the challenges of leadership in post-secondary education at this time.  Through sharing my biography and creative non-fiction (counter-storytelling), my goal has been to highlight my own leadership dissonance as an expression of a bigger issue; one that has the capacity to influence identity and relationships alike.  I have done so primarily by engaging in uncomfortable liminal spaces, betwixt and between the known and the unknown, with the ultimate purpose of understanding who I am and what I stand for in the biography that is my lifeand my career.

I have centred the core of my personal dissonance within the growing structural influences of neoliberalism in post-secondary education at this time (Fleming, 2021).  It does not seem an exaggeration to conclude that such influences are not only changing how education is defined and practiced but has also had the impact of changing the identities and relationships among those on their current educational journeys.  I note for example, that my own values are at odds with the philosophy and educational practices embedded within a neoliberal framework(Brown, 2005; Connell, 2013; Larner 2000; Polster 2012).  However, I hold a note of optimism.  Unlike some, I do not see the growing influences of neoliberalism in higher education as a hopeless fait accompli.  Likewise, I see no panacea as being able to counter this powerful influence.  There will most likely not be a return to a philosophy of education and an educational practice consistent with historical versions of the past (Peters, 1973; Coulter & Weins, 2009).  Instead, I argue for something betwixt and between the past and future: let us imagine educational journeys that continue to contribute to the good and worthwhile life, under present and anticipated future social conditions.  For me, such journeys continue to view education as participatory democracy (Kelly, 2014), a way for people to journey as citizens, toward the values they hold to be most precious for all.  In my case, it is a journey toward supporting a better future for all, regardless of personal status or social conditions.  It is about building a public that respects learning and living that is caring and not only respects diversity, but creates space and opportunity for it, including all the tensions that necessarily come along with it.  Finally, and most importantly, it advances autonomy equally and for all.

Looking in the present

It is not enough to look back and to look forward.  We must also acknowledge what is the reality of the present.  If we do not, we risk ignoring the importance of being in the uncomfortable liminal space that may be right now.  It is equally as important and often the place where the greatest learning can occur, if we will only acknowledge the discomfort and troubles that exist for us in the present.

The world remains in an unpredictable liminal state.  The COVID-19 pandemic has waned despite millions of people worldwide having died from this virus.  There is much talk about wanting to return to the past and what was the reality before the pandemic.  That is not to be.  It cannot be.  There is anticipation of a “new normal” but that too, for now, must only hold space in the imagined future.  We will need time to shape it—and be shaped by it.  We sit for now in the uncomfortable liminal space betwixt and between the past and the imagined future.

Post-secondary institutions continue to operate within their own liminal reality: virtuallyand in real space and time.  Students, staff, faculty and administrators continue to work almost exclusively from home.  Schooling now often occurs outside the physical space once occupied by all; our definition of this space has now ironically changed to reflect the possibility of being in physical spaces anywhere but where we used to be.  

Leadership, too, must continue to be practiced in liminal spaces.  Zoom and Teams havebecome the virtual spaces that replace the office or meeting room as we once knew them.  One can question if the present is better or worse, but I would argue that it is simply different; an uncomfortable change that we must embrace for now until we know what the anticipated future will hold.  What will we make of it?  And where then, does all this leave us?

Looking within, looking beyond

If we are not careful to take the time to look both within ourselves and to our social worlds beyond, we run the risk of engaging a personal dissonance that can completely disempower.  My study illustrated by way of my own personal biography the dissonance I have experienced as a leader in post-secondary education at this time.  Looking only within led me to conclude that the challenges I was up against in my leadership role were expressions of deficiencies in my own agency, rather than symptoms of larger social influences.  In short, such dissonance led me to believe that I alone was the problem.  

It was only after engaging with the uncomfortable liminal spaces in my own journey that I was able to locate the source of my troubles within the structural reality of neoliberal capitalism and its influence on my career, education and society itself, as we now experience it.  In truth, neoliberal philosophy and its related influences are antithetical to my own values and how I have come to define and practice education and leadership.  In short, neoliberalism had the effect of not only impacting my identity but had me question my own agency as a teacher and a leader.  

My own practice of reflexivity means questioning with intensity my experiences, my values, my judgment and my practice.  It has been the part of my journey that has allowed me to be able to answer two very important questions: who are you and what do you stand for?  Doing so facilitated a form of learning that clarified for me why the struggles in my leadership were so pronounced.  I conclude now with confidence that it was not solely a reflection of my personal agency.  It reflected the tensions at the centre of my values under the influence of the political and structural influences of this time.  This is not to be minimized.  In my own case, these tensions not only made me unhappy, but they also made me question my own sense of self efficacy and competence.  It led to a formidable case of imposter syndrome.  I won’t go as far as to argue that it made me ill, but I will argue that it certainly contributed little to my well-being.

Looking for change

By going into the uncomfortable zone of the liminal, the space betwixt and between, I have been able to anchor myself in the identity that reflects who I am, including my multi-generational family system, the cultures I have come to identify with and the experiences resulting from the structures of those cultures in time and place.  Moreover, it is the knowledge embedded in the anchoring of my identity that has allowed me to understand, by way of reflection, what I stand for.  It is clear to me now in the analysis of my practice as a leader in post-secondary education.  It is present in the exercise of my judgment: when I conform, when I innovate and when I rebel.  What I have learned along the way, is how I continue to support the educational journey of others, in support of participatory democracy.  It is evident in my judgement and my decisions as they are represented at times, in the “eruptions” and “contestations” of my practice as a leader: my actions aimed at creating public spaces and opportunities for civic dialogue by all, my efforts at ensuring that I maintain strength and participation in the web of relationships necessary in my private sphere (Arendt, 2013), and my public actions contesting decisions and practices in post-secondary education that under neoliberal influence threaten to change the very identities and relationships of all those who have entrusted us with their care (i.e. the identity of students as consumers, faculty as contractors and administrators as corporate managers).  We are all, instead, potential leaders, capable of so much more when we see each other for who we are and what we stand for.

My study represents the story of one leader.  It represents a journey of leadership, one that continues now, not in a specific role or a particular job or title.  I recommend avoiding the practice of attaching one’s identity to such tentative concepts of the journey.  The journey continues in the exercise of my judgment, anchored in the knowledge of who I am and what I stand for.  It continues in how I engage with others in supporting their own educational journeys as well.  

As previously argued, neoliberal philosophy, policy and practice in higher education is gaining influence, not losing ground (Larner, 2000). This holds the ongoing threat to the identities and relationships for all on their current educational journeys.  It is a threat that reduced identity to roles within a market economy.  More importantly, it threatens the very notion of the good and worthwhile life for all.  Rather than promote democratic and civil fellowship, neoliberalism commodifies education and learning, restricting it to some, not all, and therefore renders it antithetical to democratic practice.

The future is not hopeless.  If I have successfully argued in this study that neoliberalism has had the impact of changing identities and relationships, it is the very practice of becoming grounded in one’s identity that provides the counterbalance, the antidote, at least in part, to the current wave of change.  By knowing one’s self, one can lead from a place of confidence and integrity toward the good and worthwhile life for all.  

Identity is a tricky concept.  In my study, I make it clear that it holds good, bad and ugly personas, all of whom are necessary and must be given voice.  Like the metaphor of a masquerade ball (Fleming, 2021), on the leadership journey we must present different personas, at times masked, made public only when to do so allows for opportunities, eruptions and contestations.  All are necessary in effective leadership, but none can be your only approach.  To do so renders one either a pawn in the game of the current social structure or a problem to the system that will eventually be eliminated.  One must be smart to survive.  One must know who they are and what they stand for; because sometimes, you will not win in your eruptions or contestations but you must hold strength in the knowledge of who you are and what you value to survive long enough to exercise your judgment at the next occasion, where there is opportunity to advance the good and worthwhile life.  Essential to this goal is the necessity of a web of relationships one holds in the realm of the private sphere (Arendt, 2013).  The journey is made much easier, perhaps even possible only because of the support of like-minded others with whom one must build coalitions.  It is through these coalitions that we must navigate the “masquerade ball” that is educational leadership.  I emphasize through this metaphor that it is not always necessary to show one’s face in the dance, to accomplish what is the goal of the coalition.  All in the coalition are playing an important role, directly or by proxy.

My study in no way represents “the only way” to manage the dissonance often at the core of leadership—the assumption of deficiencies in personal agency.  It does, however, represent, “one way.”  I encourage all those in leadership positions to build on the lessons that I have engaged on this journey.  I can guarantee two outcomes: first, it will be uncomfortable; and second, it will be worth it.  What you learn will carry you for life.  In so doing, you also ensure that your educational journey continues to contribute to a good and worthwhile life for yourself and many others on their own educational journeys.  

Start by finding the uncomfortable liminal spaces that will allow you to see and name the problem at the core of your leadership dissonance.  In this study, the journey led me to the important realization that it was not me at the centre of the problem.  I was not an imposter.  I was however, impacted by the social milieu in which I was expected to lead—a neoliberal one.  As a therapist and as leader, I believe in the power of naming the problem as a first step.  By doing so, it becomes feasible to recognize one’s own strengths and to build the web of relationships that will be necessary in the realm of the private, to counter the problem.

Building on this story

I have learned a great deal on this part of my journey.  I would hope my story, this study, might continue for others on their own journeys of leadership.  I conclude by reflecting on a key theme that has surfaced from this study. It is the importance of spending time in the uncomfortable liminal spaces to engage a sociological imagination (Mills 1959, 2000) that holds the capacity to change or bring new meaning to the concept at the core of all leadership: one’s self-identity.

In my study, I have given focus to the identity and relationships of deans and associate deans.  However, the journey should not end here.  Equally important are the identities of students, faculty and all others who are currently on their own educational journeys.  It would seem a logical extension of my story and this study to explore the identities and relationships among these others, as they navigate the stories of their own educational journeys and discover who they are and what they stand for.  These stories hold yet more meaning for our understanding of education and leadership.  

Let me begin with students, who under neoliberal influence have had their identities reduced to consumers in the market economy—pursuing a necessary and restricted resource that will position them competitively in the capitalist market.  Those whose interests lie outside these boundaries will have already been pejoratively redefined in terms of their place in the market economy.

Faculty identities too have been impacted by the neoliberal influence.  Gone are traditional roles and status defined by academe, replaced by employees under contract in the market system of higher education.  It is no wonder that faculty and students share conflicted identities and purposes.  Each was introduced to “education” under different normative definitions.  How do we now reconcile these tensions?

Finally, I note that administrators such as myself and my colleagues are also at risk under neoliberal conditions.  We too have been reduced to corporate managers in audit cultures, not leaders in support of the educational journeys of others.      

I close by reminding myself that I do not know what the future holds for me.  But I am comforted by knowing who I am and what I stand for.  This is what will continue to anchor and guide me in the story of my journey of educational leadership: betwixt and between.

 

Quality in Higher Education: Meanings, Tensions, and Practices

Title: Quality in Higher Education:  Meanings, Tensions, and Practices

Author: Kathy Siedlaczek, EdD

Having spent most of my career in the public post-secondary sector, it has been interesting to observe how the notion of ‘quality’ is used in different contexts.  For some, quality means excellence, for others it means effectiveness or efficiency, and for yet others it means consistency and standards.  There is little doubt that quality and associated terms such as excellence are complex and contentious issues in higher education with varied perspectives on what they mean.  Yet it would be surprising to find an institution that did not claim to provide its students with high quality education.  How quality is perceived at a post-secondary institution may depend on factors such as the institution’s mandate, its governance structure, the mix of educational programs it offers, or its organizational culture and history.  The meaning may also vary across different members of an institution, it may evolve over time, and it may be impacted by external factors such as changes in dominant political ideologies.  Indeed, quality in higher education has been characterized as highly contested, arbitrary, and politically malleable (Vidovich, 2013).  

Within this varied context of quality, each institution has established its own processes for determining and maintaining the quality of its educational offerings. In my current role as Dean of Academic Planning and Quality Assurance at the British Columbia Institute of Technology (BCIT), I am responsible for our institutional quality-related processes.  As part of my practice, I have often wondered why it can take so much effort to engage people in quality-related practices.   Many times during my career I have said to myself “why do I have to explain this again?  They should know this!” when needing to explain one more time what was expected of one of our quality processes, what the related governance process was, and what documentation needed to be produced. The constant effort to not only explain but also defend these quality-related processes within my institution, and win people over one by one by helping them get to a meaningful outcome has caused me in my reflective moments to wonder why this was the case, and in my frustrated moments to wonder whether it was worth the effort. And in this, I know I am not alone.  Discussions with colleagues doing similar work at other institutions confirms similar challenges in establishing and maintaining quality-related practices in higher education.

In this article, I look at the meanings of quality in higher education, the tensions with related concepts such as accountability and trust, and the complex and necessary work involved in maintaining the practice of quality.  The opportunity to reflect on these aspects of my practice through my dissertation using the lens of theory has provided me with important insights on the challenges I experience in practice and potentially better ways forward.

What is quality?

In his influential article that asks ‘what is quality,’ Ball (1985) states:

‘Quality in education’ is a subject extraordinarily difficult to come to grips with, and full of pitfalls.  There is no single final answer to the quality question, and we should not look for it. But the issue cannot be avoided. (p. 96)

This quote indicates the elusive nature of quality.  We know it when we see it, but trying to describe what we mean by it tends to tie us in linguistic knots. Ball (1985) follows his initial question with another: ‘quality for what?’ His own response to this question settled on the notion of quality as ‘fitness for purpose,’ for example, considering the quality of a program in terms of how well it meets its purpose. This perspective continues to be influential in post-secondary discourse around quality.  

Another important perspective on quality is the influential work done by Harvey and Green (1993).  Rather than a single definition of quality, Harvey and Green present five categories as different ways that quality can be understood in higher education.  These are quality as exception (excellence as judged by reputation), quality as perfection (specifications to achieve quality), quality as fitness for purpose (alignment with purpose), quality as value for money (effectiveness and efficiency), and quality as transformation (fundamental change via the learning process). These categories present a diversity of views onquality which helps capture the complexity of the concept.  

Two important insights from the literature and from my own professional practice are the need for ongoing dialogue or negotiation on the meaning of quality, and the need to be alert to how quality is perceived among different actors and how it may be defined in various contexts.  Both of these issues require us to recognize power issues in the discourse on quality, and to question whose voices are included and what silences are apparent.  As well, there is value in considering what may be at the root of someone’s conceptualization of quality and how this may relate to their view on the fundamental purpose of education (Prisacariu & Shah, 2016). One reason to pay attention to these issues is that a growing number of jurisdictions are establishing policies and practices focused on quality in higher education, and specifically on how to assess it.  As Vidovich (2013) notes, this indicates that how quality is defined could have political implications, so there is value in exploring the dominant discourses to develop a better understanding of these influences.

Notions of quality assurance, accountability, trust and autonomy

Unlike the general notion of ‘quality’ which has a longer history, ‘quality assurance’ is a more recent concept within higher education, with each institution having its own processes for determining and maintaining the quality of its educational offerings.  Quality assurance is often considered the processes and policies an institution establishes to ensure quality, coupled with the commitment to improve or enhance quality.  However, just as there are differences in how the meaning of quality is viewed, this is similar for quality assurance.  Within higher education, quality assurance has been challenged on a number offronts, including its roots in industry and whether this is an appropriate basis from which to translate to higher education (Green, 1994; Wittek & Kvernbekk, 2011).  Another challenge relates to views on how quality assurance is used within higher education, ranging from a focus on value-for-money (efficiency/effectiveness), as a range of continuous improvement processes, as a means to improve institutional reputation, as a measure to safeguard students, or as a process to ensure programs remain aligned with their own and their institution’s purpose (Vettori, 2018).

Typical quality assurance practices in higher education focus on the development of new programs and the periodic review and renewal of existing programs.  Often these processes are articulated within institutional policies in order to document and communicate the requirements involved.  The mix of policies and processes may vary across institutions, with some having a robust set of policies and procedures that are followed closely, and others having more informal processes whose implementation waxes and wanes depending on internal/external priorities, institutional memories, and changes in responsibilities.  

Quality assurance in higher education is a growing policy issue worldwide, as evidenced by the growing number of quality assurance bodies in different jurisdictions, and the range of monitoring processes these bodies oversee (Beerkens, 2015; Steiner-Khamsi, 2016). In 2016, British Columbia introduced a new quality assurance policy impacting all public post-secondary institutions in the province, called the Quality Assurance Process Audit (QAPA).  This policy requires that all public post-secondary institutions’ quality assurance policies and practices are reviewed by a Ministerially-appointed panel to ensure alignment with expectations for quality in higher education.  This is similar to processes implemented in other provinces as well as internationally, demonstrating growing attention to quality assurance in higher education.  

Where quality assurance in higher education is discussed, there are often accompanying discourses around accountability and trust.  Ranson (2003) discusses the notion of accountability and makes the distinction between accountability as being held to account versus giving an account.  ‘Being held to account’ is the conventional expectation of accountability, whereby we must account for our actions.  Applied to quality, the primary focus is on evaluation of efficiency, for example in the use of resources to achieve expected outcomes.  On the other hand, ‘giving an account’ provides an opportunity for presenting our view of a situation and explaining how it came to be.  Most importantly, it provides opportunity for dialogue and reflection.  Ranson (2003) refers to this as the “discursive practice of accountability” (p. 461).  Applied to quality, the primary focus is on dialogue as a way to consider opportunities for improvement.  I find this framing of accountability compelling as a way to shift focus to a meaningful exchange of ideas around the purpose and practices of education rather than a primary concern around standards and measurement.  

Also important in a higher education context are the notions of trust and autonomy, which are often referenced in connection to, and sometimes in tension with, accountability.  Trow (1996) argues that accountability and trust have an uneasy relationship, where they are at times in support of one another and other times in conflict, such that in the latter case accountability can be seen as an alternative to trust.  Autonomy is a foundational principle in higher education, with an expectation that institutions have the freedom to govern themselves and set direction and policies for their operation.  However autonomy is not absolute, and varies depending on legislation across jurisdictions and also on institutional type.  The notion that some level of accountability is a legitimate and reasonable expectation of publicly funded institutions is referenced across the literature (Berdahl, 1990; Bond, 2017; Tapper & Salter, 1995).  Concomitant with this understanding is the question of how to strike the right balance with institutional autonomy/trust to align with accountability as a discursive practice focused on improvement.

Through these discussions, we can see the enduring complexity around discourses related to quality and the tensions between discourses related to quality assurance, trust, autonomy and accountability. Being alert to competing views on these issues is critical in understanding the practice of quality.  

The practice of quality

As I look at the work involved in quality practices, I think there is value in using the concepts of institutions and institutionalization to frame the discussion.  Building on Vukasovic’s(2014) writings, institutionalization is the process by which new rules, practices, and understandings become accepted, established and routinized.  The work needed to maintain quality practices such as program reviews involves such aspects as defining a common language, establishing processes and resources, creating roles and supports, communicating expectations and providing training, monitoring alignment with expectations, as well as celebrating successes. Each of these requires actors who are embedded in the institutional context and who have agency to determine and enact the necessary practices. This is what Lawrence and Suddaby (2006) call institutional work, which is the work needed to create and maintain institutions.

Drawing from my practice, I believe the work involved in maintaining the institution of quality requires a continual process of bringing people into a closer level of engagement with quality-related practices.  This involves implementing systems and processes to facilitate greater awareness among the community, develop better understanding of the purpose and importance of related processes, and over time establish greater commitment to institutional values around quality and related processes.  I offer an illustration of this idea in the figure below, which shows a set of concentric circles representing the layers of institutional actors involved in the work of maintaining the institution of quality.

Figure: Layers of institutional actors involved in maintaining institution of quality

The illustration shows that there is most often a core of institutional actors who are responsible for the creation and maintenance of quality-related practices at the institution.  This is often a department tasked with defining, creating, communicating, implementing, embedding, routinizing, educating, monitoring, refining quality-related processes, and all the other day-to-day practices of maintaining the institution of quality.  Many institutions have recognized the importance of having a central department responsible for these tasks, as demonstrated by the growing number of such departments being established at public post-secondary institutions.  This group is necessarily the most knowledgeable about the processes involved, and its task is to bring people in outer layers closer to this level of knowledge.  

The second layer from the centre represents other institutional actors who are tasked with elements of quality processes, in most cases involving departments that support and guide these processes such as learning and teaching centres, registrarial and service departments, institutional research offices, and governance bodies.  These areas have close contact with related processes, and are expected to have high awareness, understanding, and commitment to processes, but also benefit from intentional, ongoing, and structured reminders and sharing of practices to maintain this close connection.

The third layer is the most critical one to engage in an effective way and often requires the most intentional effort to engage constructively.  This layer represents institutional actors who become involved in quality-related processes when their program or department is required to engage with the processes, for example in the development of a new program.  There is a great deal of effort and support needed to quickly integrate these institutional actors into the processes so that they have sufficient knowledge of requirements and resources and feel that their initiative is able to move ahead efficiently.  Their experience with the process can play a significant role in these actors being future champions of the processes and sharing with peers the value of engaging constructively.  Alternately, if they perceived their experience negatively, they may choose to perpetuate their perspective among their peers, potentially making it more challenging to engage their peers when they subsequently need to engage in the processes.  Therefore, the work involved in engaging this layer of institutional actors is significant, both so that they can achieve their goals with their programming initiative, and to establish positive normative associations to build and sustain the institution of quality.

The fourth layer from the centre represents other faculty, staff, and students who are not currently undergoing a quality-related process but are “candidates” for future processes.  Particularly for faculty and staff, it is important that they have ongoing awareness about institutional quality-related processes to simplify and shorten the learning required when they are tasked with engaging in the processes.  The institutionalwork involved with this layer involves primarily educating, sharing exemplars of good practice, and over time building normative associations to facilitate constructive engagement in future.  

Finally, the outermost layer represents external parties who have an interest in the institution and the quality of its programs, for example alumni, and program advisory committees.  While these parties may become involved in some aspects of quality-related processes (for example, in responding to surveys or participating in site visits), they do not need direct and detailed knowledge of institutional processes.  They should however, be aware that the institution has quality-related processes and trust that these processes are contributing to the overall quality of the institution’s educational programs.

As we can see, as we go further out the circle, there is less day-to-day contact with an institution’s quality practices, and so it is important to find ways to keep people’s attention focused on these processes.  Based on my experience in practice, the task of institutional work then is to embed practices and grow support across the various layers.  The more the outer layers are supportive and engaged in the work of the institution, the more stable the institution can be.  If awareness and support is limited to the inner layers, theinstitution is less stable and may decline or be dismantled over time as the outer layers do not see value in it.  

Important to note is that the stability of an institution does not mean it is intended to remain unchanged, but rather its stability is measured by its ability to adapt and change, and therefore persist, within an evolving landscape.  As Vukasovic(2014) argues, the process of institutionalization is not irreversible, and so it requires continued and sustained attention to maintain an institution.  This type of maintenance work is sometimes characterized as silent and invisible but is nevertheless essential to preserve and reinforce institutions, andsometimes repair them after a period of neglect (Micelotta & Washington, 2013). As I reflect on my practice, it is evident that this is the ongoing work of maintaining the institutionof quality, which involves looking for ways to better embed or routinize processes, identify champions and advocates, connect experienced practitioners with new ones, and if funding allows, establish new positions to further support and guide related practices.  As well, it is not uncommon for people to change roles or for new people to join an institution, necessitating a continual and intentional effort to explain the value of processes.

Institutions need to recognize the commitment necessary to maintain the systems and processes related to quality.  It can take significant time and much effort to build up systems that represent what an institution considers excellent quality and a corresponding culture that values these processes.  It takes as much if not more effort to sustain these processes and culture with the various types of institutional work needed to do so.  In contrast, without adequate resources and priority placed on quality-related processes, it is comparatively easy for the institution of quality to be slowly dismantled until it is no longer meaningfully aligning with expected norms in higher education.  

So then what is quality in relation to practice?

I return now to the question posed earlier in the article, “what is quality?” I believe there is not much value to be gained in trying to arrive at one meaning of quality in higher education, either broadly or even at the level of an individual institution. Instead, I believe there is value in acknowledging that there are and likely always will be varied meanings of quality and that there is more to be gained by entering into conversations on the topic with curiosity.  As Deephouse et al. (2017, p. 17) note, while conceptual clarity is an important endeavour, “concepts should evolve as they are used and juxtaposed with other concepts.”  Thus we should expect the meaning of quality to evolve and this may be based on a variety of factors, for example the role an individual has at an institution, the discipline within which a faculty member teaches, or the previous experiences someone may have had before joining higher education.  As well, the meaning of quality may shift over time, as the discourse itself changes over the years or is influenced by shifts from other jurisdictions.  

So perhaps what is more important than defining quality is putting in place processes to integrate the wide range of views on quality to ensure that these perspectives are incorporated into the overall, collective evaluation of quality. This is essentially the process of quality assurance, and as I would argue, is directly connected to the process of quality enhancement.  Establishing negotiated and collegially determined processes to review and assess quality and establishing the equally important processes to then improve quality are essential components of demonstrating the quality of an institution’s educational programs to its broad community.  Approaching quality in this way, recognizing the multiple perspectives with which people come to it, and establishing processes to integrate this range of views is an important way to institutionalize practices related to quality.  There is the acknowledged challenge of quality assurance terminology being associated with its roots in industry, and therefore being at times viewed with suspicion from the world of academia.  I would argue that this would indeed be problematic if the same methods and expectations of quality control from a manufacturing setting were implemented in higher education settings.  But adopting practices that reflect Ranson’s (2003) discursive practice of accountability, while balancing elements of trust and autonomy, provide a sound basis on which to adapt quality processes to the context of higher education.

Concluding thoughts

As a concluding comment, I start with the observation that there is often little need to convince people of the need for quality.  While there are various understandings of quality, the importance of quality and the belief that we all offer quality at our institutions is a widely shared belief.  What is morechallenging is to establish a shared belief in the need for and value of quality-related processes as an element of achieving quality.  From my experience, I see the intentional effort and significant resources required to maintain the practices and processes which are foundational to the institution of quality.  The main risk to the institution of quality is if other priorities reduce attention and focus on the need for quality practices, or if these practices are characterized more as a bureaucratic mechanism than as a fundamental process contributing to the quality of our educational programs.  As Lawrence et al. (2009) argue, it is risky to treat institutions as self-sustaining social structures, and rather, there is a need to consider these as fragile structures needing ongoing effort and work to ensure they can be stable and self-replicating.  Provincial policies such as QAPA play an important role in defining expectations and creating structures and processes that act as a catalyst for institutions to prioritize their quality practices.  But it is the institutions themselves, with their internal quality practices living under their own governance structures that must actively maintain the structures and processes related to quality. All of this takes significant time, effort, and resources, and requires that quality and the processes related to achieving and maintaining it remain a priority at institutions.  Taken together, this in my view is the practice of quality.

References

Ball, C. (1985). What the hell is quality? In C. Ball & D. Urwin (Eds.), Fitness for purpose: Essays in higher education (pp. 96-102). Society for Research into Higher Education & NFER-Nelson.

Beerkens, M. (2015). Quality assurance in the political context: In the midst of different expectations and conflicting goals. Quality in Higher Education, 21(3), 231-250.

Berdahl, R. (1990). Academic freedom, autonomy and accountability in British universities. Studies in Higher Education, 15(2), 169-180.

Bond, R. (2017).  Canadian and international trends in quality assurance. [Keynote address].  Quality Assurance Process Audit: Initial Learning & Context Forum, Vancouver, BC. https://www2.gov.bc.ca/gov/content/education-training/post-secondary-education/institution-resources-administration/degree-authorization/degree-quality-assessment-board/quality-assurance-process-audit.

Deephouse, D., Bundy, J., Plunkett Tost, L. & Suchman, M. (2017). Organizational legitimacy: Six key questions. In R. Greenwood, C. Oliver, T. Lawrence & R. Meyer (Eds.) The SAGE handbook of organizational institutionalism. SAGE Publications.

Green, D. (1994). What is quality in higher education? Concepts, policy and practice. In D. Green (Ed.), What is quality in higher education? (pp. 3-20). Society for Research into Higher Education & Open University Press.

Harvey, L. & Green, D. (1993). Defining quality. Assessment and Evaluation in Higher Education, 18(1), 9-34.

Lawrence, T. & Suddaby, R. (2006). Institutions and institutional work. In S. Clegg, C. Hardy, T. Lawrence & W. Nord (Eds.). The SAGE handbook of organization studies. SAGE Publications.

Lawrence, T., Suddaby, R., & Leca, B. (2009). Introduction: Theorizing and studying institutional work. In T. Lawrence, R. Suddaby, & B. Leca (Eds.), Institutional work: Actors and agency in institutional studies of organizations (pp. 1-27). Cambridge University Press.

Micelotta, E. & Washington, M. (2013). Institutions and maintenance: The repair work of Italian professions. Organization Studies, 34(8), 1137-1170.

Prisacariu, A. & Shah, M. (2016). Defining the quality of higher education around ethics and moral values. Quality in Higher Education, 22(2), 152-166.

Ranson, S. (2003). Public accountability in the age of neo-liberal governance. Journal of Education Policy, 18(5), pp. 459-480.

Steiner-Khamsi, G. (2016). New directions in policy borrowing research. Asia Pacific Educational Review, 17, 381-390.

Tapper, E. & Salter, B. (1995). The changing idea of university autonomy. Studies in Higher Education,20(1), 59-71.

Trow, M. (1996). Trust, markets and accountability in higher education: A comparative perspective. Higher Education Policy, 9(4), 309-324.

Vettori, O. (2018). Shared misunderstandings? Competing and conflicting meaning structures in quality assurance. Quality in Higher Education, 24(2), 85-101.

Vidovich, L. (2013). Balancing quality and equity in higher education policy agendas? Global to local tensions. In P. Axelrod, R. Desai Trilokekar, T. Shanahan, & R. Wellen (Eds.), Making policy in turbulent times: Challenges and prospects for higher education (pp. 167-187). Queen’s Policy Studies Series, McGill-Queen’s University Press.

Vukasovic, M. (2014). Institutionalisation of internal quality assurance: Focusing on institutional work and the significance of disciplinary differences. Quality in Higher Education, 20(1), 44-63.

Wittek, L. & Kvernbekk, T. (2011). On the problems of asking for a definition of quality in education. Scandinavian Journal of Educational Research, 55(6), 671-684.

 

When Your Practice Becomes Homeless

Title: When Your Practice Becomes Homeless

Author: Don Poirier, EdD

Introduction

The world seems bent on dramatic change to the point of breakage. Public institutions are caught in the middle of shifts in government policies on immigration and a reduction of international student numbers that threatens their solvency, as well as larger culture wars that emanate from and mirror a shift in public sentiment both here and abroad. Among such tectonic forces individual practitioners are left to wonder what is to happen to them as institutions consider where to cut budgets. This can lead to a sense of helplessness or even job loss. How can we begin to understand what is happening and our role in a new reality? I begin by sharing my own struggles with a practice under duress, reflecting on the various forces at play, and look to my own research to help make sense of a world seemingly gone awry. It is hoped that these insights give both perspective and advice to those dealing with a threat to their educational practice.

A story of practice under duress

It was at the end of a day at the office when most of the staff had left. As was typical, I wandered through the empty fields of cubicles thinking of old Dilbert cartoons that might capture thecomplexities of our institutional culture. It was a culture borne out of an uneasy merger of two separate public institutions: the one an aspiring ‘university college’ that offered a range on in-person academic and trades programs and courses to its region, the other an established public university that existed under a clear mandate to meet the ‘open education needs’ of the province based on open educational practices and technology enabled delivery. Both ‘sides’ of the institution represented established communities of practice that, in their own ways, could point to a history that prioritized learner success and innovative community engagement. Yet, both sides were also structurally separated by legislation that split governance decisions involving curriculum between two different bodies, the coexistence of historically and operationally unique sets of policies and practices that guided both academic decisions and student services, initially separate government funding based on regional versus provincial mandates, and two separate collective agreements guiding the rights and responsibilities of unique faculty bargaining units. These fault lines of separation lingered for years through successive changes in leadership punctuated by calls for understanding, cooperation, and ultimately for ‘integration.’ For many, this last call to fix the ‘problem’ represented the final solution in the culture war where one sidemust lose so the other could thrive. In short, it was a call for an acquisition rather than a merger.

My wanderings through the ‘cubicle farm’ led me to a familiar sight. Sitting in his office was a friend, colleague, and the latest incarnation of interim bosses (a.k.a. lead cubicle farmer) to leadthe division. Irwin came to the institution as head of curriculum development within the division. He was a well-respected voice in the fields of distance and open education both in Canada and abroad. We would often talk about the role that open education in general, and our division in particular, has and could play in addressing the struggles of marginalized groups in society and advancing institutional reach and influence to meet the evolving needs of learners and serve the ‘common good.’ We both understood the roller coaster history of our division and the struggles of acceptance open education has had within post-secondary systems that tended to operate on established norms of ‘academic excellence’ including the delivery of curriculum, as well as institutions competing for resources that sometimes made inter-institutional cooperation a point of celebration or consternation rather than the norm. This combination of promise and political turbulence was witnessed by the shifting responsibilities and names of the division from the Open Learning Institute in 1978, to the Open Learning Agency (1988), then to the BC Open University (1996), and finally in 2005 as a division of a special purpose university in BC’s interior (Abrioux, 2006; Johnson, 2023; Moran, 1991). 

Irwin was eager to show me a picture he had taken while on a recent trek across campus. Piled outside the warehouse that heldamong other things hundreds of ‘pizza boxes’ that delivered distance course materials to thousands of students annually across the country and sometimes abroad, was a stack of pallets slated for disposal. Amongst the pile of rubbish was a pallet from the Open Learning Agency. Irwin put the foam backed picture in front of me and left me to interpret. We sat there insilence. Irwin finally spoke up and said, ‘It says it all, doesn’t it?’ What that image intuitively captured for both of us was a barrage of year over year microaggressions that spoke of distrustand feelings of alienation as well as moments of open dislike. These markers of philosophical, operational, and cultural strain were felt by all facets of the division through such daily interactions as operational meetings, collective agreement grievances, and the pursuit of a revisionist history focussed on undermining the identity of over forty years of open education practice in the province. 

The strain Irwin felt navigating the challenging political terrain took its toll. He left the institution to pursue what he loved:curriculum development, music, and most of all his family. Irwin and I kept in touch as I took on his role as division head. He heartily recommended me as his replacement in part because I understood what to expect. I continued to have my conversations with Irwin as he was one of the few who understood the challenges and strains of leading a division that was not always welcome beyond the student tuition it generated. As the stories of conflict and anxiety among staff grew, Irwin always found time to be my mentor and friend. It was during one such session that he simply said, ‘I think it’s time for you tobecome selfish and focus on your health and your family.’ I finally left that institution with feelings of guilt for leaving those behind to face institutional grievances alone and for the time lost with my own family, exhaustion from sixteen years of struggle to fulfill the provincial mandate and support learners who had limited educational options, and fear of the unknown including financial insecurity.

Irwin was a survivor of cancer twice over. Within six months after my departure, he informed family and friends that his latest bout with cancer would be his last. He and a colleague from the world of open education planned a trip to his old haunts in the province’s interior. We arranged to have lunch at my home just before he returned to his family. It was just the two of us in the house. He sat at the table physically and emotionally exhausted from his trip of places, people, and memories. He could have easily cancelled our lunch without judgement but instead took the time to ask how I was doing and the details of my last days as his successor. At the end of lunch and the myriad stories he gazed at me and asked, ‘Did you go quietly?’ The inference was clear: did I take the opportunity to give voice to the perceived injustices to our division and purpose, or did I abandon my convictions as a proponent of a set of practices that prioritized learner circumstance before institutional convenience and my responsibilities as a leader to simply fade away? I confirmed that I thought I had made my feelings clear to the point of professional recklessness. Seemingly satisfied with my response, he said, ‘That’s all anyone can do.’ When he was about to leave,we promised to keep in touch. He gave me a hug before opening the door that brought in the fresh December air. We never spoke again. 

Practices under duress: Values, attitudes, beliefs and behaviours

My story of practice under duress is thankfully unique. The set of historical circumstances and political dynamics as well as institutional personalities that came together to characterize my operating environment created a situation that few others can claim. However, it shares one important characteristic that isseemingly defining a variety of institutional practices today –practitioners caught in the maelstrom of economic, political, and cultural forces that leaves them questioning where they fit within an institution caught trying to navigate the winds of change. For me the defining inflection point came in the form of the COVID pandemic when campus-based faculty were faced with a choice – change their pedagogical practice or get left behind. For many, the demands of the situation put into relief that they were professionally vulnerable to external forces. This prompted a struggle between collective bargaining units for the right to work that was previously considered by many traditional faculty a lower form of educational practice that nevertheless attracted the greatest number of domestic students by headcount. 

Today, the shifting forces at play make the influence of a virus seem like a more straightforward affair that produced a scientifically created vaccine as a tangible response. We currently find ourselves in a complex web of geopolitical and cultural clashes that have at their roots a set of values, attitudes, and beliefs at odds with others. One example is found in the contentious claim made by the American Catholic Vice-President, J.D. Vance, who early in his tenure cited the ethical doctrine of ordo amoris in support of Donald Trump’s immigration policies and decision to cut USAID funding to the world’s neediest (Liedel, 2025, February 3). The doctrine, which is often referred to as ‘order of love,’ espoused by such notable Christian theological thinkers as (Saint) Augustine and (Saint) Aquinas, was promoted to understand our ethical responsibilities to others. Crudely, the doctrine suggests that given our finite station in this world we must ‘order’ our attention of love beginning with God and emanating outwards. For Vance, this meant that our obligation to show our love was on a scale based on (physical and possibly cultural) proximity. That is, those who are closest to us, e.g., family and friends, are more deserving of our direct love over others who live further away, e.g., the poor of Africa. This move from a theological perspective towards a political ideology that prioritizes the rights of America and Americans before others distorts an attempt to understand our moral responsibilities towards others by limiting our responsibilities to the ‘other’ (See Pope, 2025, February 13).   

Of course, the example of a religious viewpoint being harnessed to achieve a political objective is neither new nor happens in isolation. One of the interesting things about today’s world is that many of those values, attitudes, and beliefs that previously remained hidden in our thoughts, shared among like minded individuals on a social platform, or even promoted on the dark web is put on louder display for all to see in the form of government policy, e.g., trade and immigration, or the drop in civil discourse over the absolute need to be right that is often accompanied by revisionist history or simply gaslighting. Again, such instances and expressions are not new. The speed and uniformity of such sentiments and behaviours, however, is note worthy. The seemingly steady rise in distrust, anger, and yearning for a new world order is partially explained by the rise of strategic alliances between groups feeling alienated. A case in point is the co-development of the American evangelical movement with the interests of the Republican party. The popular works of Tim Alberta and Kristin Kobes Du Mez among others details the symbiotic relationship between a religious sensibility with political ambition that has resulted in a largely white American Christian nationalism. Du Mez pays particular attention to the role of an American mythos that understands gender roles as both a religious command as well as a hero’s journey based on the ‘old West’ motif where men as individuals asserted their authority and women supported them with deference and Christian humility. The result is a complex worldview that masks multiple forces of influence under the guise of mythic uniformity and a world made hopeful through certainty in values, attitudes, and beliefs. Canada is not immune or insulated from the dynamics of American politics. There are signs that similar attitudes about creating a more ‘traditional’ society complete with gender standards are at play in such knowledge-infused public spaces as community libraries (LaFleche, Ward, & Kelley, 2025, February 7).

So, what does this have to do with education as a sector in Canada? Well, despite what some within the academy might wish, post-secondary institutions sit at the nexus of different cultural and political riptides. A recent example of this would bethe renewed need to defend the tenants of DEI and charges of ‘wokeism’ within a society that is seeing pushback to the ideals of inclusion and academic freedom (see Barker, 2025, May 28; Scali, 2025, May 28; Usher, 2025, April 23). Of course, not every force of change is mired in such a complex web of deeply held 

 

Naming the Precarious: Language, Labour, and Policy in Canadian Higher Education

Title: Naming the Precarious: Language, Labour, and Policy in Canadian Higher Education

Author: Lisa Allen, EdD

Abstract:

This paper examines the term precarious faculty as a critical and necessary descriptor for the growing class of non-permanent academic staff in Canadian higher education. Through analysis of scholarly literature, I argue that precarious faculty represent a class-in-the-making whose structural vulnerability is not incidental but designed through policy choices and institutional norms. The term precarious captures the instability, marginalization, and evolving identity of this workforce better than terms such as adjunct, sessional, or contingent. I further argue that addressing academic precarity is not just an employment issue but a matter of educational equity and institutional ethics. This paper concludes with a call for senior leadership to enact systemic policy reforms that recognize, support, and integrate precarious faculty as central members of the academic community.

INTRODUCTION 

When embarking on a doctoral degree, students are often advised to choose a research topic that deeply resonates with them—something they can live with, wrestle with, and speak to for years to come. The assumption is that this topic will not only dominate their intellectual life during the program, but will continue to shape their academic identity and contributions far beyond graduation. For my dissertation, I chose a title that raised more eyebrows than I expected: Being Precarious. Understandably, I am frequently asked why I chose the term precarious faculty—rather than adjunctsessional, or contingent—to describe the group of teaching faculty at the heart of my study. My answer is rooted in both political intent and policy critique: language matters, and “precarious” captures something essential about the lived experiences, structural vulnerabilities, and policy failures that characterize this growing academic faculty class.

This analysis is situated within the theoretical frameworks of critical policy studies (e.g., Ball, 1997), class formation theory (Standing, 2011), and academic labour precarity scholarship (Kezar et al., 2019). These frameworks allow for an interrogation of the institutional logics that produce and sustain precarious academic labour in Canada.

This paper unpacks why the term precarious faculty is both appropriate and necessary in the Canadian higher education context, particularly in British Columbia. Drawing on scholarly definitions, policy literature, and personal experience, I argue that precarious faculty represent more than just a labour category—they constitute an academic class-in-the-making, whose presence and precarity challenge the assumptions underpinning institutional policy and leadership practice. In this light, I position the issue of precarious academic labour not merely as an employment matter, but as central to the problematic of educational policy: a site where institutional values, systemic inequities, and governance decisions collide.

First, this paper explains and contextualizes the term precarious faculty, contrasting it with alternative terminology and exploring its socio-political implications. Secondly, this paper offers a call to action for senior academic leadership, identifying concrete ways in which institutional policy and departmental practice must evolve in response to the systemic marginalization of precarious faculty. This paper argues that understanding—and addressing—the policy implications of precarity is critical not just for those in non-permanent roles, but for the health and equity of the academic system as a whole.

Naming Precarity: The Social Construction of a New Academic Class

In recent years, the Canadian higher education landscape has witnessed a significant shift in faculty employment structures. The rise of precarious academic positions—encompassing sessional instructors, adjuncts, and contract lecturers—has transformed the traditional academic workforce. These roles, often characterized by limited job security, inadequate compensation, and minimal institutional support, have become increasingly prevalent. This trend reflects broader systemic changes within academia, where economic imperatives often overshadow commitments to equitable labor practices (Kezar, DePaola, & Scott, 2019).

The Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) reports that “about one third of all academic staff in post-secondary institutions in Canada struggle to find decent work” (CAUT, n.d.). To draw on the definition of ‘precarious faculty’ I start with Indhu Rajagopal’s instigating 2002 book Hidden Academics: Contract Faculty in Canadian Universities, in which Rajagopal uses the term “part-time” faculty to refer to contract or sessional faculty in the university. However, in the current higher education system, one could be both “part-time” and regular¾that is: faculty can hold a tenured position and be part-time. There are many terms out there that describe work that is not permanent and full time. There are many different categories of work for faculty members¾sessionals, adjuncts, limited term appointments, lecturers, tenure-stream professors, and the list goes on and on. Of note, under the category of ‘faculty’ there are permanent regular types of faculty, and temporary and contract types of faculty. 

Kezar, DePaola, and Scott (2019) categorize contract-type faculty in universities as the “Gig Academy” defining those who fall into this category as follows: “the characteristics of contingent, temporary, and part-time work in the Gig Academy include a reduced salary (often below a living wage) and benefits, unbundled and outsourced roles, forced entrepreneurship, deprofessionalization, minimal autonomy, and maximum external control” (p. 36). While contract-type faculty often share similar conditions and parameters on their employment, these characteristics are not consistent.

Field and Jones (2016) have written about precarious faculty in higher education in their study of “contingent” faculty in Ontario public universities. After some debate and discussion, they arrive on the term “contingent faculty” to describe all non-regular, or non-tenure or tenure-track faculty in higher education institutions:

It is worth noting that the terminology used to describe various forms of faculty appointments and career tracks is complex, and there is considerable variation by country, by province, and by institution. “Sessional” is a term used to refer primarily to those who are working on a contractual basis as instructors within the university, typically for those working on semester-by-semester contracts. “Contingent faculty” is a broader term, including sessional faculty and all non-permanent faculty members who are working on part-time or limited term contracts outside the tenure stream. (Field & Jones, 2016, p. 9) 

While Field and Jones (2016) use the term “contingent” to describe non-regular faculty, it may be advantageous to adopt a more universal descriptive term for this group of faculty. In 2011, Guy Standing’s book The Precariat: The Dangerous New Class was published. In Standing’s book, they define the “precariat” in two ways: first as a distinct socio-economic group, and second—and most importantly¾as a class in-the-making. It is this second part of the definition of the ‘precariat’¾a class in-the-making¾that is most relevant to the contract and sessional faculty in higher education institutions in Canada. Because adjuncts and sessional faculty are a relatively new class of faculty in the higher education system, their role, the structures of their positions, and the ways in which they fit into the larger academic structures have evolved and continue to evolve, as evidenced by their addition to many institutional faculty association collective agreements across the country. However, an academic class consciousness is emerging. Part-time faculty are, as Field and Jones (2016) argue, certainly “contingent”, but they are also “precarious” in the sense that their positions are constantly in-the-making. It’s the in-the-making part of this definition that makes the term precarious faculty more desirable. Precarious faculty are collectively re-creating the academic profession through documenting and sharing their experiences, like I did when I published my autoethnographic accounts of being a precarious faculty member in my EdD dissertation (Allen, 2021). 

Challenging the Status Quo: Policy, Leadership, and Institutional Accountability

The increasing reliance on precarious faculty in Canadian higher education institutions raises critical questions about institutional responsibility and the need for comprehensive policy reform. While budgetary constraints are often cited as justification for hiring contract faculty, this rationale overlooks the broader implications of such employment practices.

A recent report by the Ontario Confederation of University Faculty Associations (OCUFA, 2023) highlights that the rise in precarious academic employment threatens the very quality of university education. Precarious faculty, despite their qualifications and dedication, often lack job security, fair compensation, and access to institutional resources. This not only undermines their professional development but also affects student learning experiences, as these faculty members may be less available for mentorship and academic support.

Moreover, in one of my own research papers (Allen, 2024), I emphasize that the two-tiered system of faculty employment fosters inequality and diminishes the collaborative spirit essential for academic excellence. These published findings from my doctoral research call for universities to invest in stable, full-time academic positions and to ensure equitable treatment for all faculty members, regardless of their employment status.

The proliferation of precarious academic positions is not merely a byproduct of economic constraints but is indicative of a deeper structural realignment within universities. Banerjee, Lam, and Lamb (2023) highlight that highly educated temporary workers in Canada, including contract faculty, face significant wage penalties compared to their permanently employed counterparts. This wage disparity underscores the undervaluation of precarious academic labor, despite the essential roles these individuals play in delivering quality education.

In light of these concerns, it is imperative for senior leadership within higher education institutions to take proactive steps toward policy reform. This includes reevaluating hiring practices, providing equitable access to resources and professional development opportunities, and fostering inclusive governance structures that recognize and address the contributions and challenges of precarious faculty.​

Bauer (2011) suggests that it is the job of university administration to acknowledge the scale of what the university does on a day-to-day basis and the implications of these day-to-day activities. Because many of the issues that surround precarious faculty are structural, much of what needs to change in these systems has implications for those who are in control of departmental budgets and policy shaping within the institution. In higher education, that falls to those in senior leadership positions (Kezar, DePaola, & Scott, 2019).

​Webber (2008) argues that strong university units and departments require continuity and stability in faculty. Findings of their interviews with academics suggest that often, in smaller departments, like Women’s Studies Departments, precarious faculty are hired last-minute, and this has a major impact on both the faculty member and the curriculum and organization of the course that the faculty member is hired to teach. Precarious faculty are often thrown into a course with little time to prepare. Without a doubt, this has a significant impact on the instructional aspect of the precarious faculty’s role in the university and therefore has a significant impact on their experiences as a faculty member. 

Fleming et al. (2016) claims that those in leadership positions: VPs, Deans, and Department Heads should focus on facilitating newcomer networking when designing policy and implementing practices and procedures in their departments on campus. This means looking at the office space that’s allocated to precarious faculty, the resources that precarious faculty are provided, the hiring process, and the performance evaluation process. New faculty benefit when they are able to be socialized into the departments that they are hired into and can work with mentors within the department. According to Fleming et al. (2016), job dissatisfaction and the greatest potential for turnover comes from the lack of formal and informal mechanisms for supporting new faculty and their socialization into the departments in which they are hired.

Conclusion

The normalization of precarious academic labour in Canadian universities is not a marginal concern—it is a defining feature of the current post-secondary landscape. As this paper has argued that the term precarious faculty is not only apt, but necessary: it captures the structural vulnerabilities, policy failures, and evolving class consciousness of a group whose work is central to academic operations, yet persistently undervalued.

Framing precarious faculty as a class-in-the-making challenges universities to confront the deep contradictions embedded in their labour structures and governance systems. In an era marked by post-pandemic economic recovery, escalating housing costs, and mounting pressure on public institutions to demonstrate social value, how can universities reconcile their stated commitments to equity and inclusion with their growing dependence on insecure academic labour? What does it mean for academic freedom, mentorship, and intellectual continuity when the majority of undergraduate teaching is done by faculty who may not return the following semester?

These questions demand more than rhetorical reflection. They require further investigation, policy attention, and courageous leadership. Future research might explore the long-term institutional impacts of precarious faculty staffing on student outcomes, faculty well-being, and departmental culture. Comparative analyses between provinces, institutions, or even global higher education systems could help identify both promising practices and shared challenges.

Ultimately, the recognition of precarious faculty as a legitimate and vital academic constituency invites a reimagining of institutional priorities. If universities are to remain credible sites of critical thought, public service, and knowledge creation, then confronting and redressing the structures of academic precarity is not optional—it is foundational. The question now is not whether change is needed, but whether institutions have the will to act.

 

Cultivating Plurilingual Selves: Transformative Learning Across Languages and Cultures – Implications for Applied Linguistics and Adult Education

Title: Cultivating Plurilingual Selves: Transformative Learning Across Languages and Cultures – Implications for Applied Linguistics and Adult Education

Author: Natalia Bussard, PhD, EdD

ABSTRACT:

Throughout my life, I have cultivated a deep interest in multilingualism and its profoundinfluence on the identities and lived experiences of plurilingual individuals. My interdisciplinary research, grounded in theory of plurilingualism, transformative learning (TL), and sociocultural theories of language and culture, have deepened my understanding of three interconnected dimensions: the development of a plurilingual self, the dynamics of relationships of plurilingual individuals with others, and expansion oftheir worldviews. The research participants may have acquired their multiple languages through schooling, immersion or through immigration to other nations. In my qualitativenarrative inquiry study, I examined transformative experiences of nine plurilingual individuals from diverse backgrounds. The transformations I observed were linked toincreased resilience, creativity, confidence, cultural awareness, openness, and lifelong learning and spanned across plurilingual individuals’ lifetime. Collaborating with participants, I co-created data through demographic questionnaires, language portraits, focus groups/interviews, and memoirs, then analyzed them using narrative inquiry and reflexive thematic analysis. Novel findings of this research study underscore the broad interdisciplinary relevance of plurilingualism across psychology, sociology, and educational policy, and affirm its significance beyond language acquisition alone.

Keywords: Plurilingualism, Transformative learning, Identity, Relationships, Worldviews

Theoretical Background

My research study is grounded within the social constructionism paradigm (Schwarz&Williams, 2020) according to which what we know and how we came to know it is socially constructed. I based my research of plurilingual individuals’ TL experiences on Mezirow’s (1978) Transformative Learning Theory (TLT) and theory of plurilingualism (CoE, 1996, 2001). TL occurs as a result of a shift in one’s beliefs, relationships, behaviors, and identity.This shift is a result of facing a difficult situation in one’s life which canalso happen due to exposure to new cultures or languages.TL framework integrates foundational TLT with contemporary insights into the role of emotions as catalysts for transformation, as articulated in the works of Mälkki and Green (2018) and Mälkki and Raami (2022).

Initially, Mezirow focused on the cognitive, rational dimension; later, scholars Dirkx (2006), Taylor (2009), and Illeris (2014), recommended increasing attention to the emotional dimension. Ross (2020) focused on transformation as a peak and transformation as trauma and reconfirmed the importance of emotions as catalysts of TL. While Mezirow (1978), a foundational figure in adult education, posited that perspective transformation alters an individual’s system of values and results in different behavior changes distinct to adulthood, Kegan et al., (1982), through constructive-developmentalpsychology lens, viewed transformation as an epistemological shift towards more complex meaning-making which enables critical reflection and autonomous thinking, spanning across an individual’s life. Illeris’s (2014) study of identity confirmed that a person starts to be capable of engaging in a critical reflection since youth. 

In further development of TLT, Mezirow (1995) recognized an important role of the relationships in TL. Taylor (2000) expanded this perspective by emphasizing that through interpersonal connections, learners enhance their openness and develop the confidence to use their emotions effectively, and thereby accelerating transformative processes.

Plurilingualism (Council of Europe, 1996, 2001) rather than multilingualismaccentuates the idea of “a person, viewed as a social agent, [who] has proficiency of varying degrees, in several languages and experience of several cultures” (Council of Europe, 2001, p.168). Piccardo (2017) argued that the much wider used term multilingualism, does not fully encompass the complexity of increasing linguistic and cultural diversity, and therefore the construct of plurilingualism better expresses the intricacy of language acquisition and use (Council of Europe, 1996, 2001; Coste et al., 2009). Piccardo’s (2017) definition highlights the aspect of inclusivity:

Plurilingualism differs from multilingualism (the simple addition of languages insocieties and/or individuals) in that it focuses on the relationships between the languages an individual speaks, the underlying linguistic mechanisms and cultural connotations, the personal linguistic and cultural trajectory as well as the persons’ attitude toward language diversity, stressing openness, curiosity, and flexibility(p.2).

In this definition, Piccardo (2017) distinguishes plurilingualism from multilingualism, underscoring the relational aspect of plurilingualism among languages in the repertoire of an individual, their languages and cultures as well as their openness, curiosity, and flexibility.

My research also draws on the concept of Norton Peirce’s (1995) language as investment which captures “the relationship of the language learner to the changing social world [and] conceives of the language learner as having a complex social history and multiple desires” (pp.17-18). Language investment connects plurilingual individuals’motivation for language acquisition with their agency. Plurilingual individuals’ agency propels them to acquire additional languages and, influenced by this process, enables them to act in the world in transformative ways. The transformative processes can beexamined through plurilingual individuals’ journeys and identities, drawing on the classifications of transformations proposed by Illeris (2014) and Ross (2020). Illeris (2014) identified three types of transformations: progressive (a positive effect that moves towards transformation), regressive (a negative or slowing down effect that moves away from transformation), and restoring (reformulating goals to make them more realistic, and achievable in life). Ross (2020) introduced two additional types of transformations: peak (extremely positive, uplifting) and traumatic (extremely negative, leaving the individual feeling down).

While transformative journeys of language learners/users have been captured in the literature to some extent (Pavlenko, 2006; Obojska, 2019, Galante, 2024), these studies focused on identities depicted either in study abroad trips or service-learning environments, and did not fully encompass the complexities taking place in minds of adult plurilingual individuals reflecting in the changes of their interpersonal relationships.Having observed this gap in the literature, I positioned transformation as the central theoretical framework of my research, recognizing disorienting dilemma and critical reflection as catalysts for transformation, enabling the learners reassess their seeing, knowing, feeling, and acting in the world (Bussard, 2024, 2025).

Methodology

My study is epistemologically based on social constructionism, a framework which posits that knowledge is historically and culturally situated. Within this paradigm, language actively constitutes reality, serves as a precondition for thought, and functions as a form of social action (Braun & Clarke, 2022). The center of my attention are the social practices in which nine plurilingual participants engaged with me, co-constructing the dataset. To advance plurilingual scholarship, I adopted a researching multilinguallyframework (Holmes et al., 2013), granting participants the agency in selecting their preferred language of self-expression across three modalities: focus groups/interviews, language portraits, and memoirs. Additional co-created data were collected through demographic questionnaires, administered in English. The first stage of data co-creation allowed me to gather participants’ perspectives on their countries of origin and thecultures they had been immersed in. Following this, participants created their language portraits, illustrating the language repertoires they had acquired throughout their lives. Through the portraits the participants expressed the significance of each language they spoke. Before participating in focus groups/interviews, participants engaged with two language learning memoirs written by the researcher. This activity’s aim was to familiarize the participants with the concept of a disorienting dilemma—a moment or aperiod of time— leading to personal transformation—and to prompt them to consider their own transformative experiences. The participants were informed that after the focus groups, they would write their own language learning memoirs. Initially, I planned to conduct three focus groups with three participants each to facilitate the exchange of ideas. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, some participants were unable to attend the originally scheduled sessions. To avoid further delays, I opted to conduct with them individual interviews. During the 90-minute focus groups or 60-minute interviews, I co-generated rich descriptions, exploring the participants’ identity dilemmas, transformations, and catalysts for their life journeys. Both the focus groups/interviews and the memoirs co-generated of rich data, which allowed me to identify subthemes and overarching themes that contributed to novel findings. In my qualitative research, I used Clandinin & Connelly’s (2000) narrative inquiry methodology and reflexive thematic analysis (Braun & Clarke, 2022), further opting for Fraser’s (2004) approach due to its emphasis on rich contextual descriptions. This combination of approaches provided analytical flexibility while explicitly incorporating my interpretive role as a researcher.

Transformations of identities, interpersonal relationships, and worldviews

In this section, I introduce the types of transformations my participants underwent in their language learning journeys, focusing on changes that shaped their identities. I then provide a brief overview of how these shifts in identity influenced their interpersonal relationships and their worldviews. In the discussion, I summarize these findings, propose plurilingual educational policies, and situate them within the existing body of literature.

Drawing on Illeris’s (2014) and Ross’ s (2020) classifications of transformations, I identified that most plurilingual individuals’ transformations aligned with restoring transformations (Illeris, 2014). In these transformations, participants experienceddisorienting dilemmas, reformulated their goals to become more realistic and achievable in life. The following six examples illustrate restoring transformations, the first two of which simultaneously represent traumatic transformations (Ross, 2020).

During her adolescence, Fabyan was silenced by a Slovak man for using Hungarian to communicate. This suppression ignited her resilience and a desire to act contrary to societal norms. Fabyan’s transformative experience affirmed her agency and acceptance for others. Marie Rose, like Fabyan, faced ridicule from Slovak peers for using Hungarian in Slovakia which catalyzed a shift. This negative experience, nevertheless, fostered acquiring additional languages and empowering others to self-express through their preferred languages. Elena leveraged her plurilingual abilities and immersion in other cultures to reorient herself from hopelessness of a challenging family environment. This shift allowed her to rebuild her belief system and cultivate a purposeful life. Both Marie Rose’s and Elena’s transformations qualify as traumatic transformations in Ross’s (2020) classification framework.

Lucia’s disillusionment with her ability to find employment in Mexico without speaking Spanish led to her to acquire the language and establish closer professional and personal relationships with Mexican communities which is an example of a restoring transformation. Tim’s inappropriate use of words, intended to praise the host for a delicious meal during Sweden’s Midsummer festivities, left the host feel unappreciated and led Tim to reconsider the importance of fully understanding each word he was using. This disorienting dilemma became the catalyst for his restoring transformation.

Manon realized that thinking in another language while living in Japan was transformative. This realization led Manon to acquire more languages, become appreciative of other cultures, more accepting, and less judgmental. Her transformation was both restoring and profound –– a kind that Ross (2020) classifies as peak– as it left Manon uplifted. Three out of nine participants’ transformations were peak transformations. Another peak transformation was Aida’s move to Austria, where using German daily helped her realize how her comprehension improved over time. Aida’sprogress validated her parents’ investment in teaching her languages, which later became an impetus for learning even more languages. This developmental stage is also termed progressive transformation (Illeris, 2014). Nemo’s transformed as his perception of language shifted from viewing it as a tool for expressing meaning to understanding it as a means of connecting with other cultures. This transformation represents both a peak and a progressive transformation. Baruch’s progressive transformation became evident in how learning of English became a catalyst for connecting and communicating effectively with others, and he became motivated to acquire additional languages. The restorative (some trauma), progressive (peak), and regressive transformations associated with identity shifts were reflected in qualities such as heightened resilience, hope, confidence (Pomeroy & Oliver, 2021), agency (Ahearn, 2001; Larsen-Freeman, 2019), and feelings of personal growth. In terms of interpersonal relationships, participants felt a stronger desire for connection, greater efforts to understand others, and improved communication effectiveness, all of which were linked to increased empathy (García-Vazquez et al., 2022), aspirations to empower, support, accept, and appreciate others. Participants reported embracing a lifelong learning mindset, a deepened desire to acquire new languages in terms of language investment (Norton Peirce, 1995), an appreciation for diverse cultures (Liddicoat & Scarino, 2013), interculturality (Byram, 1997, 2021; Senyshyn, 2018) and an increased openness and acceptance toward others (Byram et al., 2001; Bussard, 2024, 2025).

Discussion and Connection to Educational Policy

Plurilingual individuals’ multifaceted identities changed through navigating the psychologically complex transformative language learning journeys. Yet, transformation through plurilingualism is only one way in which an individual’s identity, relationships with others, and worldviews can be altered and such transformation is not a guaranteed and depends on each individuals’ unique factors (Bamber, 2016; Mezirow, 1978; Senyshyn, 2018). My research revealed that genuine connection with others depended on a level of self-understanding or self-awareness in relation to others and on individual factors that require further investigation in future research. My research participants highlighted that multiple language acquisition has strengthened their interconnectedness with the cultures in which they were immersed, and vice versa (Bamber, 2016; Senyshyn, 2018; Wernicke et al., 2021). Participants concluded that they had become intercultural speakers who “interact with ‘others’, to accept other perspectives and perceptions of the world, to mediate between different perspectives, to be conscious of their evaluations and differences” (Byram, 2001, p. 5).

My research study’s participants reported an increased sense of connection due toexposure to multiple languages and cultures, which was reflected in their increased level of empathy, openness and acceptance of others. Simultaneously, some participants essentialized other cultures, and made generalizations, indicating signs of classism and racism. Based on this, I observed that exposure to multiple languages and cultures does not guarantee a positive relationship between plurilingualism and cultural sensitivity, rather, this relationship is complex (see also Putnam, 2007).

The insights from this research have significant implications for a wide range of stakeholders, including parents, language learners and users, teachers, school administrators, policymakers, fellow researchers, and the general public. My research’s findings have practical relevance for the stakeholders mentioned above; can inform evidence-based decision-making, and contribute to the development of more inclusive and effective language policies in order to better support diverse linguistic communities.For example, language teachers might encourage all their students to use all the languages in their repertoire as bridges that support language learning. This practice has proven effective because a strong foundation in a child’s first language significantly enhances their ability to develop plurilingualism (Lo Bianco, 2017). This approach would transfer responsibility for children’s plurilingual development would from parents — who frequently lack the necessary skills and resources— to institutions better equipped to implement effective practices that foster academic and societal success (Anthony- Newman, 2025; Piller & Gerber, 2021). My own research aligns with these perspectives, revealing that participants expressed themselves differently depending on which language from their repertoire they used, thereby evoking distinct memories. Simultaneously, the language used influenced how participants prioritized different ideas. Allowing participants to choose their preferred language enabled them to discuss topics that wouldotherwise remain unexplored, enriching the research and enhancing its comprehensiveness.

The implementation of plurilingual language policies in schools could significantly benefit students by fostering the transformation and expansion of their worldviews. Furthermore, such policies may substantially enhance students’ cognitive and interpersonal skills, including creativity, analytical thinking, and the cultivation of a positive attitude toward lifelong learning. In addition, practicing of plurilingualism can enhance individuals’ relationships by fostering greater acceptance of diverse worldviews. This understanding may encourage policymakers to implement policies plurilingualism-friendly policies across all levels of education. For instance, schools could establish policies that incorporate all languages present within the educational environment– ranging from the dominant instructional language to the diverse home languages spoken by students. Such policies would aim to create an inclusive linguistic environment that actively values and supports every student’s background language background, thereby strengthening the school’s cultural and communicative cohesion.

References:

Ahearn, L. M. (2001). Language and agency. Annual review of anthropology, 30, 109-137. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.anthro.30.1.109

Antony-Newman, M. (2025). Plurilingualism for social justice: A meta-synthesis. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development. https://doi.org/10.1080/01434632.2025.2475915

Bamber, P. (2016). Transformative Education through International Service-Learning: Realising an ethical ecology of learning (1st ed.). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315684970

Braun, V., & Clarke, V. (2022). Thematic Analysis: A Practical Guide. Sage.

Byram, M. (1997). Teaching and Assessing Intercultural Communicative Competence.Multilingual Matters.

Byram, M., Nichols, A. & Stevens, D. (2001). Developing Intercultural Competence in Practice. Bristol, Blue Ridge Summit: Multilingual Matters. https://doi.org/10.21832/9781853595356

Byram, M. (2021). Defining and Describing Intercultural Communicative Competence. In Teaching and Assessing Intercultural Communicative Competence: Revisited (pp. 12-39). MultilingualMatters. https://doi.org/10.21832/9781800410251-005

Bussard, N. (2024). Influences of Transformative Multiple Language Learning and Use on Changing the Ways of Seeing and Being in the World, Proceedings of the XV Biennial International Transformative Learning Conference (pp.256-263). University of Siena, Italy.https://www.intertla.org/past-conferences-proceedings/

Bussard, N. (2025, March 9), More Languages, More Opportunities: Your Life, Amplified, UniNewsletter, volume 3, pp.8-11, https://issuu.com/uninewsletter/docs/un-march/9

Clandinin, D. J., & Connelly, F. M. (2000). Narrative inquiry: Experience and story in qualitative research. Jossey-Bass.

Council of Europe (CoE). (1996). Modern languages: Learning, teaching, assessment:

A Common European Framework of Reference. [Draft 2 of a Framework

Proposal; CC-LANG (95) 5 rev. IV]. Strasbourg: Council of Europe. rm.coe.int/

modern-languages-learning-teaching-assessment-a-common-european-framew/1680886e8c

Council of Europe (CoE). (2001). Common European Framework of Reference for Languages: Learning, teaching, assessment. Cambridge University Press. rm.coe.int/1680459f97

Coste, D., Moore, D., & Zarate, G. (2009). Plurilingual and pluricultural competence:

Studies towards a Common European Framework of Reference for language learning and teaching. Council of Europe, Language Policy Division. chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://rm.coe.int/168069d29b

Dirkx, J. M. (2006). Engaging emotions in adult learning: A Jungian perspective on emotion and transformative learning. In E. Taylor (Ed.), Teaching for change. New directions in adult and Continuing education, 109, 15–26.

Fraser, H. (2004). Doing narrative research: Analyzing personal stories line by line. Qualitative Social Work, 3(2), 179–201. https://doi.org/10.1177/1473325004043383

Galante, A. (2024). Plurilingual and pluricultural competence: Origins, current trends, and future directions. In C. Fäcke, X. Gao, & P. Garrett-Rucks (Eds.), The handbook of plurilingual and intercultural language learning.Wiley. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781394165957.ch24

García-Vazquez, E., Turrero-García, M. & Rodriguez, N. Multilingualism enhances immigration acceptance through increased intergroup quality contact: A proof of concept in New Jersey and Spain, Lingua, 273(103320), 1-11. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.lingua.2022.103320.

Holmes, P., Fay, R., Andrews, J., & Attia, M. (2013). Researching multilingually: new theoretical and methodological directions. International Journal of Applied Linguistics, 23(3), 285–299.

Illeris, K. (2014). Transformative Learning and Identity. Journal of Transformative Education12(2), 148–163. https://doi.org/10.1177/1541344614548423

Kegan, R., Noam, G. G., & Rogers, L. (1982). The psychology of emotion: A neo-Piagetian view. Child Development, 53(6), 1298-1307. https://doi.org/10.1002/cd.23219821606

Larsen-Freeman, D. (2019). On language learner agency: A complex dynamic systems theory perspective. The Modern Language Journal, 103(1), 5-18. https://doi.org/10.1111/modl.12536

Liddicoat, A. J., & Scarino, A. (2013). Intercultural language teaching and learning (1st ed.). Wiley-Blackwell. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118482070

Lo Bianco, J. (2017, February 9-10). Multilingualism in education: Equity and social cohesion: Consideration for TESOL [Paper presentation]. Summit on the Future of the TESOL Profession, Athens, Greece.

Mälkki, K., & Green, L. (2018). Working with edge emotions as a means for uncovering problematic assumptions: Developing a practically sound theory. Phronesis, 7(3), 26–34. https://doi.org/10.7202/1054406ar 

Mälkki, K., & Raami, A. (2022). Transformative learning to solve the impossible. In E. Kostara, A. Gavrielatos, & D. Loads (Eds.), Transformative learning theory and praxis (1st ed., pp. 76–91). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780429450600-7

Mezirow, J. (1978). Perspective transformation. Adult Education, 28(2), 100–110.

Mezirow, J. (1995). Transformation theory of adult learning. In M. Welton (Ed.), In defense of the lifeworld: Critical perspectives on adult learning (pp. 37–90). State University of New York Press.

Mezirow, J. (2003). Transformative Learning as Discourse. Journal of Transformative Education1(1), 58-63. https://doi.org/10.1177/1541344603252172

Norton Peirce, B. N. (1995). Social Identity, Investment, and Language Learning. TESOL Quarterly, 29(1), 9–31. https://doi.org/10.2307/3587803

Obojska, M. A. (2019). Trilingual repertoires, multifaceted experiences: multilingualism among Poles in Norway. International Multilingual Research Journal, 13(4), 257–276. https://doi.org/10.1080/19313152.2019.1611337

Piccardo, E. (2017). Plurilingualism as a catalyst for creativity in superdiverse societies: A systemic analysis. Frontiers in Psychology, 8.doi: https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.02169

Pomeroy, E., & Oliver, K. (2021). Action Confidence as an Indicator of Transformative Change. Journal of Transformative Education19(1), 68-86. https://doi.org/10.1177/1541344620940815

Piller, I., & Gerber, L. (2021). Family language policy between the bilingual advantage and the monolingual mindset. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism, 24(5), 622–635. https://doi.org/10.1080/13670050.2018.1503227

Putnam, R.D. (2007). “E Pluribus Unum: Diversity and Community in the Twenty-First Century.” Scandinavian Political Studies30(2), 137–174.

Ross, S. (2020). The Map to Wholeness: Real-Life Stories of Crisis, Change, and Reinvention-Your Guide through the 13 Phases of Transformation. North Atlantic Books.

Senyshyn, R. M. (2018). Teaching for transformation: converting the intercultural experience of preservice teachers into intercultural learning. Intercultural Education, 29(2), 163–184. https://doi.org/10.1080/14675986.2018.1429791

Taylor, E. W. (1994). Intercultural Competency: A Transformative Learning Process. Adult Education Quarterly44(3), 154-174. https://doi.org/10.1177/074171369404400303

Taylor, E. (2000). Fostering Mezirow’s Transformative Learning Theory in the Adult Education Classroom: A Critical Review. Canadian Journal for the Study of Adult Education14(2), 1–28. https://doi.org/10.56105/cjsae.v14i2.1929

Taylor, E. W. (2009). Fostering transformative learning. In J. Mezirow, E. Taylor, & Associates (Eds.), Transformative learning in practice: Insights from community, workplace and higher education. Jossey-Bass.

Wernicke, M., Hammer, S., Hansen, A., & Schroedler, T. (Eds.). (2021). Preparing Teachers to Work with Multilingual Learners. Multilingual Matters. https://www.multilingual-matters.com/page/detail/?K=9781788926096

 

2025 EDST Research Day Blog Publication Award

Winner of the 2025 EDST Research Day Blog Publication Award: Mahfida Tahniat (Two-Time Winner!)

EDST 529 022 2025W2

Course information

The course focuses on the methodological, technical, and ethical aspects of qualitative research interviewing, including in-depth, narrative, and ethnographic techniques. Readings will be drawn from anthropological, sociological, feminist, decolonizing and intersectional educational studies. Emphasizing experiential learning, the seminar will feature practical activities to develop research skills. Topics include the epistemological foundations of qualitative interviewing, study design, ethics, interviewing strategies, fieldwork planning, use of field notes, positionality and power dynamics, data management, researcher reflexivity, and presentation of findings. A key theme will be the importance of reflecting on and justifying research design choices.