The following notes were used for the keynote address at the 2004 Learning from Practice Exchange of Teacher Knowledge and Research. The address was given by Gordon Martell, Superintendent of Education, St. Paul's Roman Catholic Separate School Division, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

Self, Family and Community: Managing Research Progression - A Storied Approach

Starting Points

I am not a research expert. The thoughts I intend to share tonight are at best my reflections as a consumer of research, as an educator, as a First Nations person who is also a skeptic (once bitten, twice shy), and, on occasion, as a First Nations person, a research subject. My reflections are those of a person concerned that Saskatchewan needs to tell its story, that the stories generated constitute theory and the theory will inform practice, and that from practice we will learn, refine and grow. I was asked to reflect on the impact of research on me, my community and my school division. I see huge parallels to this request in a storied approach to understanding self, family and community. I can more comfortably frame the conversation around the role of research on myself, my family, as a First Nations person, and on my community of educators.

The Relationship Between Stories and Research

Research brings credibility to examining a situation which might otherwise be called anecdotal. Anecdotal is from the Greek anecdota meaning Athings unpublished.

I know from my work that it takes a serious effort to keep teachers on top of research and cutting edge initiatives. As an employer, some of what we come to expect as commonplace is not instilled in teachers who have recently entered the profession. Some teachers may have never been through a professional journal or they do not routinely incorporate research based initiatives into their professional practice. What I witness in their practice, though, is a commonplace, systematic attempt to name concerns, group them in order to discern improvements, explore options, try new things, and correct the course of action to ensure improvements. What we are here to celebrate is the structure we have, as Saskatchewan educators, placed on this natural practice, recognizing our practice as research. What we cannot do is celebrate our stories, discernment and initiatives as research without looking for the effect moving in the other direction, that is, without learning from research which has been constituted by stories not our own.

Look around and you will see that much of what causes concern in the educational realm in our province stems from change. Change in this province involves giving voice to youth, women, people of varied ability, minority sexual orientations, immigrants and First Nations and Métis peoples. The process of seeing those emerging voices adopted into educational practice represents a long and arduous journey. The shortest route to effecting this kind of change is to rely on Saskatchewan stories, discernment, relationship-building, home-grown initiatives, and the change, betterment or improvement resulting from them. Because they skim the cream off of change, our stories are vital methodology in change for improvement.

Stories: Personal, Family, Community

I wish to parallel three layers of stories with the three aspects of the topic upon which I have been asked to reflect. The three layers are:

Personal Stories. These stories are the result of an experience that the individual has had opportunity to process and from which a lesson has been generated for the individual. If the lesson is accepted, those who hear the story may choose to use the experience in their own storied approach.

Family Stories. A family story introduces another layer of ownership. It is also generated through experience, arising from a personal story that a family has imbued with meaning and now applies more globally as a metaphor in a teaching. The family story may also arise as a result of an incident or experience with more broadly based participation or wider impact.

Community Stories. A community story is more formalized. It may be presented as a legend, for example. Community stories require many storytellers who maintain responsibility for their perpetuation, accuracy and interpretation.

The Vehicle That Is Literature

Literature is the fourth realm of stories as I understand them. Literature encompasses all three of the previous genres as well as a myriad of other genres that have grown up in the literate experience. The written word is a necessary modern overlay on the storied approach. Literature is the point at which a merger takes place between experience and structure, stories and genres, and practice and research.

Research and Control

Before reflecting on research and the person, family and community, I want to reflect on a book that I, and many of you, have read; The Life of Pi, by Yan Martel. For those of you who are not familiar with the novel, it describes a young boy in the midst of a struggle to believe without the constraints of adhering to a specific religious sect. He embarks on a journey of incredible survival and personal discovery as he drifts in a lifeboat with a Bengal tiger, an orangutan and a zebra. The story is filled with incredible tales of flying fish, floating islands, superhuman endurance, cunning and amazing luck. It is, alternatively, a story about a boy rescued from a lifeboat. Which story do you believe? In this novel, the storyteller tells his story but allows his readers the autonomy to come to the truth according to their needs. It took me three starts to reading the novel before I could continue to the end because I wanted the rationale, logical approach. Once I was able to suspend my disbelief, I thoroughly enjoyed the book. The storytelling progression parallels the research progression. Like Martel's story, research needs to maintain a connection to the personal and allow for flexible application of research; it should not be greedy research that needs to control even the interpretation and application of meaning.

The Personal (Individual) and Research

Joseph Marshal (2001), in The Lakota Way: Stories and Lessons for Living, states that A[e]very old person is a collection of stories. Marshal relates a Lakota story of Three Horns and his wife, No Moccasins. This incredible story of humility describes a newlywed couple who become separated when Three Horns is captured and endures years of torturous treatment in an enemy camp. All believe Three Horns to be dead except his faithful wife, No Moccasins. She learns the stories about the raid gone awry that led to her husband's capture. She disguises herself as a man and infiltrates the camp where she frees her husband. She acquires her name, No Moccasins, when she abandons her moccasins to divert the pursuing enemy. Three Horns returns to his own camp where he capitalizes on his survival and becomes a revered warrior and leader. Upon his deathbed, Three Horns summons all of the Elders, chiefs and community leaders and honours the deeds of his wife, humbly stating that his greatness is only a result of his wife's deed which allowed him to live. Proclaiming that he deserves no glory, he dies a humbled man and is laid upon the scaffold as he wishes, with no symbols of high status. No Moccasins continues to demonstrate her humility in her generosity to her community and upon her passing, the scaffold is subsequently adorned with the symbols commensurate with her position. This incredible story strikes me in a couple of ways. It provides a beautiful example of a story that moves from personal to family to community, increasing its impact at each level. In it, I also see a story-maker and a storyteller, a researched and a researcher, a glorious man and a humble woman.

Anna-Leah King, an Anishanabe woman who is a colleague of mine and a researcher, writes of voice and expression and learning and ownership in her 2004 thesis, Singing Ourselves In. The phrase, "singing ourselves in", describes the role of artistic response to literature. "Singing ourselves in" serves as decolonizing methodology, in the style of the Maori researcher, Linda Smith, in that it no longer preserves existing power relations. King writes:

Singing Ourselves In is meant to expose non-Aboriginal peoples to other worlds that exist beyond the perpetual dominant focus to alternate realities. Singing Ourselves In becomes a tool to bring us into existence, to expose the deceptive means behind the hidden curriculum that is embedded in hegemony and allow for cultural diversity. Singing Ourselves In assigns us to the challenge of what has been accepted as the universal truth and to expose the dominators to another's truth. Singing Ourselves In provides for us as Aboriginal peoples the opportunity to tell our story, our truth in history, our perception, progression, and cultural rejuvenation through our voice of experience and knowing.

King most eloquently identifies the credible place of an artistic response to literature as a valid pedagogical approach. It speaks to the association of research and the individual as a voice of challenge from the voice-less in deciding to name participation in the generation of knowledge and take back participation in knowledge-building.

A research implication for the self is voice. Research introduces a methodology or a plan for articulating, hearing and interpreting stories. The importance of allowing people to tell their stories is that they control the methodology; they control the manner of articulating, hearing, and interpreting a story. It is vital to maintain voice in stories to capitalize on the most tailored and applicable, locally generated methodology. The storyteller maintains control of voice.

The Family (Nation) and Research

The far under-attended-to book, Sharing our Success, Ten Case Studies in Aboriginal Schooling, which was assembled by the Society for the Advancement of Excellence in Education (2004), includes Kirk Anderson's case study on Saskatchewan's own Reindeer Lake School. While the Aproblems referred to in the case study are all too familiar to Saskatchewan educators, e.g., the third-party management status of the First Nations school, the study's focus on success stories is an endorsement of the blending of First Nations autonomy, a responsive provincial curriculum, and a community occupied with the well-being and future of its children and youth. The education committee chair reflects:

[W]e are working together: We care about everybody and even if one falls, we will all turn around and pick up that person who is lost. While the majority succeed, we will target the ones that don't succeed.

Anderson concludes that the school's success is a result of positive relationships between nation, band, school committee, parents, students, staff and administration. Success factors include leadership, adaptive and strategic use of resources, and a Cree-friendly environment. The dominant success factor at Reindeer Lake is the complementary relationships. Each element, each player, is a story which, when assembled, demonstrates patterns capable of standing as themes, metaphors and concepts. The stringing together of stories illustrates community patterns that tell a greater tale.

Stan Wilson, from the University of Alberta, comments on the self and relationships in Self as Relationship in Indigenous Research (2001). Wilson suggests that Indigenous people have a literal relationship to the land that causes a schizophrenic approach to research in that self brings with it generations of others and their stories. In a First Nations community, there is no relevant independence that allows others to act without regard for the larger context. A case study can be delimited to focus specifically on a defined situation. The ability to study in this manner is granted by the independent nature of individuals in community. Those who don't claim to speak with the voice of the many are honoured by recognizing their independence. Those who speak with the voice of the many can't be represented by the isolated snapshot. What I tell you today is a compilation of generations of spheres of influence which, when disassembled, no longer captures the meaning or the intent. The listener, or researcher, is responsible to the teller, or informant, to bring context with the morsel of story offered. I'll give you content, but you take it with my methodology. I can give you flour and sugar and shortening and berries, but it's not a pie.

My reflection on the impact of research on family/culture is that there is a need to retain the stories or there is a danger of spiraling into generalizations that may benefit the researcher but not the research and certainly not the pursuit of truth. Just as the personal story assumes longevity and utility with its graduation to a theme, relationships and interdependence are the hallmarks of good research and its impact on First Nations people.

Community and Research

The 2004 Report Card on Aboriginal Education in British Columbia, by Peter Cowley and Stephen Easton of the Fraser Institute, paints pictures of sweeping failures in educating First Nations and Métis students. The report indicates that Aboriginal students in British Columbia failed 40% of province-wide reading tests they wrote. The failure rate of Aboriginal students in British Columbia was double that of their non-Aboriginal classmates. In British Columbia, only one in five Aboriginal students complete grade five within the prescribed time. Aboriginal students take one third of the provincially examinable senior courses that their non-Aboriginal counterparts take, which limits Aboriginal access to post-secondary programs. Cowley and Easton indicate that the problem is well known. In their view, the situation will not improve until parents can take federal tuition and use it to allow their children to travel off reserve in pursuit of improved schooling. Also, all should have access to a school-by-school report of achievement in order to make informed decisions. The authors purport to inspire improvement by identifying the possible.

What startles me in this example of research is that there is no solution in the prescription it provides, only another stale advocacy for free enterprise in education. Any worthy private sector attempts to educate First Nations and Métis students would certainly experience the same cultures in transition as a result of history that we see in publicly funded schools. This prescription denies the stories that result in a subordinate educational experience for First Nations students. If there was a blatant and concerted effort to fail First Nations and Métis students then the Fraser Institute model would suffice. Any of us who have experienced family members reeling from residential school and other demeaning experiences know that it is not that simple. I fear that what this research example lacks is balance. There is no light shone upon the stories not told and blind adoption of the story told. We don't learn of the complexity of the situation and are led to believe that simplistic economic fixes will result in improvements.

In contrast is the 1998 research by the Malcolm Wiener Center for Social Policy's Sovereignty and Nation Building: The Development Challenge in Indian Country Today, written by Stephen Cornell and Joseph Kalt of the Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development. This research describes education as but one aspect of a complex society in which improvements are manifest. The authors extensively studied economic conditions and community economic development on First Nations reserves across North America. They call economic development on Indian reserves a political problem. The authors found that the development of governing institutions and resulting sovereignty created the conditions for economic development. Tribal sovereignty was the silver bullet capable of overcoming poverty on reserves. The AJobs and Income approach, in which First Nations blindly pursue grants and develop businesses with the objective of creating jobs, came up short as a solution because the context for sustaining economic development was not developed. The agenda for improvement may have been that of the First Nation's economic development officer but it was not the agenda of the First Nation. Nation-building, on the other hand, responds to a nation's agenda. It emphasizes long-term payoffs by creating an environment in which businesses, and other things, thrive. The solution is a sound institutional foundation, strategic direction and informed action. Sovereignty needs stable institutions and policies, fair and equitable processes for resolving disputes, separation of politics and business management, a competent bureaucracy, and a match between the culture and structures and processes. All of these elements create the conditions for economic, social and educational improvements. This scenario is markedly different from the Fraser Institute approach described earlier. The tangible difference is a balance of stories both from the researcher in assembling the themes and the community in maintaining the right to tell its stories.

The research implication for communities/institutions is that balance and shared voice are mandatory for sustainability. I fear that the very genuine efforts toward accountability and improvements, which are a part of a larger educational environment and certainly a result of SchoolPLUS, may be riding a wave not poised to hear the stories. In Aboriginal education, for example, I hear elements of dismissal of the over thirty years of research and practice that has resulted in an integration of culture and education. What we in Saskatchewan were close to achieving was probably the ethical space which Willy Ermine promotes. The prevailing attitude is that accountability and responsive educational programming alone are the silver bullet. Balance must be the goal. I suggest that First Nations and Métis peoples have had no input into the accountability dialogue and that the pretty package of responsive education is not the complete package.

Wide input and stakeholder control promotes good research, which focuses on the stories not told as well as the stories told. Research must present enough detail to allow for the reader to experience and extract the lessons. Balance and shared control allows just that. No balance means no choice and no trying the research on for a fit. It is tantamount to research imperialism. Remember The Life of Pi? Which story do you believe? The one that makes you believe.

The Truth About Stories

After listening intently to the 2003 Massey Lecture Series on CBC radio, I was thrilled to find in print The Truth About Stories; A Native Narrative by Thomas King. King takes us on a journey of his life and emergence as a keen student of narrative. His commentary on the storied approach to life and learning is a refreshing balance to a world eager to act in ways indicated by empirical assessment. One of my favorite stories describes King's adventure on a tramp steamer as he works his way to New Zealand. His talk of being an Indian confuses the German cook, who can't rationalize as Indian King's contemporary style and mixed First Nations and Greek ancestry. He concedes that King could be Indian if only one of mixed blood, but he also states that King is A...not the Indian he had in mind. The book's epilogue tells a haunting tale of King's friends, John and Amy Cardinal, their difficult journey with an adopted child, and the impact of this journey on the family. King describes his uncomfortable encounters with John, in which he is unable to bring himself to directly address the problems or offer any sort of support to his friend. King challenges the reader by reminding us that we are all stories, and he cautions us not to say in the years to come that we would have lives differently if only we had heard this story. We've heard it now.

I was so taken by this lecture that I remind myself every day of my responsibilities now that I've heard the story. We are all stories; research can be us or manipulate us. We can gather voices or use them for our self-aggrandizement, and we can tell the whole story with a balanced approach.

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