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Project
5 September
1995 Acknowledgments
This research was partially funded through a grant from the McDowell Foundation. However, the points of view and opinions expressed in project documents are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Foundation. The purpose of the Dr. Stirling McDowell Foundation for Research into Teaching is to fund research, inquiry, and dissemination of information focusing on instruction (both teaching and learning) in the context of the public elementary and secondary education system. Specifically, it will:
The Foundation is an independent charitable organization formed by the Saskatchewan Teachers' Federation in 1991. It is governed by a Board of Directors with the assistance of an advisory board of representatives from the educational and business communities. The selection and evaluation of projects funded by the Foundation is carried out by a teacher-led Project Review Committee. Inquiries concerning research supported by the McDowell Foundation may be directed to the following address: Research Coordinator The two authors of this report were part of a much larger team which carried out the research described here. The other team members were: Pam Aldorfer; Lynn Fraser, Val Harper, Marion Kimberley, Kim Newlove, Avon Whittles, and Shauneen Willet. We would like to express our gratitude for the generosity of these women in including us in their conversations about teaching and learning in cross-cultural contexts. We would also like to thank the Saskatoon Board of Education, in particular Don Hoium, for supporting the project and giving us opportunities to discuss our work with a wider audience. Introduction There has been very little documentation of classroom practice in cross-cultural classrooms enrolling First Nations students in Canada. This study describes effective practices used and identified by four First Nations and non-Aboriginal teachers as they taught reading and writing in a cross-cultural environment. Classroom teachers and university researchers collaborated to make explicit teachers' tacit knowledge of their instructional practice. In this report teachers' knowledge is related to the literature on cultural negotiation and cross-cultural literacy. This project also used innovative methodology to establish a teacher network for sharing experiences in adapting literacy instruction to meet the needs of cross-cultural learners. Previous studies have looked at cross-cultural language instruction from a variety of perspectives. Some research has examined the ways in which classroom organization has affected the participation of First Nations students in language activities. For example, in her ethnographic study of a Native school and reserve in Oregon, Philips (1983) found that students participated minimally in large groups. Jordan (1981) described Hawaiian Native children as "accustomed to working cooperatively in the context of a group of children, most often as part of a group of siblings" (p.17). Erickson and Mohatt (1982) conducted one of the few Canadian studies comparing classes of First Nations students taught by Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal teachers. They found that the First Nations teacher did in fact organize her classroom so that the participation structures did not put her constantly in positions of power over the students. The non-Aboriginal teacher began by using mainstream structures, but had adapted somewhat to the more egalitarian community interactional style by the end of the study. In their commentary on current assumptions regarding First Nations students in Canada, Leroy and Juliebo (1991) acknowledged the existence of learning style differences, but suggested that variation in learning style exists for all students. Osborne (1989) studied five teachers of varying culture and ethnicity working with Zuni children in a small community in the southwestern USA. One non-Indigenous teacher in the study had lived most of her life in the community, another had taught there for twelve years, while the teachers of Zuni ethnic origin varied in their exposure to traditional Zuni culture. All teachers supported the community aim of making the school a bicultural environment. His observations of their teaching led Osborne (1989) to this conclusion:
The current study describes literacy instruction as carried out by Canadian First Nations and non Aboriginal elementary teachers working with cross-cultural learners. There were two major purposes for the study:
First the methodology will be detailed, and then we will describe how teachers adapted literacy instruction to their classroom settings. Throughout, the findings are connected to the socio-cultural issues which arise in cross-cultural contexts. In keeping with qualitative traditions we will introduce the research group, and then describe how we carried out the study. Practical and theoretical issues will be raised throughout. In searching for a respectful stance in conducting cross-cultural research, we have found support in Stairs' (1994) evolving construct of cultural negotiation and in the metaphor of silenced voices (McLaughlin and Tierney, 1993). Participants: Teacher researchers There were four teacher-researchers, one in each of Saskatoon Public board of Education's designated inner-city community schools. In the small city where the study took place, most urban First Nations students are enrolled in four inner-city community schools. This community school designation came about as a way to identify and give extra support to schools struggling with the difficulties urban First Nations students face when isolated from their traditional supports of extended family, community and culture. Three of the teachers work with primary grades, one taught in the middle elementary grades. Their role was to collaborate with each other and with the university researchers in identifying and implementing literacy instruction particularly suited to the cross-cultural environments in which they teach. The following descriptions give some idea of the varied backgrounds of our research team.
University researchers The two university researchers teach reading and language arts at the College of Education, University of Saskatchewan.
The vital core of the research group consisted of the four teachers. We had asked these women to join us because their cultural backgrounds differed from ours, and we assumed their experiences more closely matched those of their inner city students. As we became friends, we tempered our original assumptions about cultural differences. The reader can judge from the brief descriptions that the teachers in our project have varied backgrounds, despite their shared Cree ancestry. Procedures Each week Linda and Angela visited two classrooms, using field notes and a reflective journal to record these visits. The observations were shared with teachers individually and at monthly network meetings. Innovative aspects of the project Ethnographic study of cross-cultural classrooms has rarely been conducted in Canadian inner city schools. This project involved both First Nations and non-Aboriginal researchers, mirroring the cultural mix of the schools in the project. The use of conversation as a methodology to reflect on instructional practice is particularly appropriate for research on teachers' daily classroom experience. This research method tried to capture the reality of teachers' lives and explore the literacy instruction issues which they themselves raised. In establishing a network of teachers, consultants and university personnel, the project provided a model for collaborative research which could be adapted for areas other than literacy instruction. It is the hope of the researchers that the project will lead to an ongoing dialogue between the school system and the College of Education. Building a cross-cultural methodology: concentric and overlapping circles Our network discussions became a microcosm of the cultural negotiation we hoped would occur in classrooms, and as we moved further into the study, the more obvious become the parallels between these two experiences. We wished to develop a methodology which would support our own cross-cultural communication, minimizing differences in status and ensuring that all voices would be heard. By our second meeting, the network had taken on the "talking circle" structure that Pam had been using in her classroom. Using the circle was symbolic of the Aboriginal medicine wheel, which in its turn represents unity of all with the earth. Te Hennepe (1993) also found this format to be appropriate when working with First Nations people, "the circles are an invitation to see many connections and to see how all things are related", (p.237). At both the classroom and network level it was comfortable for participants in the circle to share their experiences. We came to see our project as a series of literal and metaphorical circles, and will so describe the methodology we used in the context of classroom, network meetings, and school system. Classroom circles The circle had a significant place in Pam's classroom structure. Her Grade 1 students (of whom only two or three did not have some Aboriginal ancestry) met for most whole group work in the carpeted corner of her room. For teacher-directed activities, the twenty or so children sat in a clump, facing Pam, who sat on a chair beside a chart stand. A move to the circle format signaled a shift from teacher direction to peer sharing of personal experiences. Sometimes Pam spoke directly about the power of the circle in Aboriginal culture, and reminded children of the rules implied by its use. The right to the floor was indicated by passing a rock around the circle; whoever held the rock had speaking rights. There was no obligation to speak; early in the year only five or six students took turns, but by May only one or two would "pass". The power of this structure to include First Nations children contrasts with a previous study (Ward, 1990), where Aboriginal kindergarten children participated less and less frequently in conventional "Show and Tell" sessions over the period of a school year. All children participated in the talking circle in Pam's class by then end of the year. Their willingness to participate was supported by Pam's conscious demonstration of respect for everyone's contributions, and her ability to remember and use the children's shared experiences in other contexts. It was after we had discussed talking circles as used in classrooms that we decided to adapt this structure for our monthly meetings. Developing the Teacher Network During the eight network meetings the teacher-researchers, university researchers and consultants shared their findings by using conversations as a methodology to reflect upon teacher instructional practice. These informal meetings were designed to allow all participants to support each other and engage in discussion about teaching in cross-cultural contexts. These discussions and the suggestions of university teachers and consultants in reading and language arts then supported the teachers as they tried new strategies in literacy instruction. Beginning with our second meeting, we actually passed a "talking stone" around. The meetings always began informally, with chat about personal lives. It would take ten minutes or so before teachers felt relaxed enough to begin the more formal sharing of experiences. The stem question was usually something like, "so, what's been happening in your language arts time?" We arranged it so that we began with one of the teachers, and had teacher turns before anyone else officially held the floor. Because the teachers' experiences were our primary focus, their stories were of particular interest to all of us. As Archibald (1993) explains it, "First Nations peoples' stories are shared with the expectation that the listeners will make their own meaning, that they will be challenged to learn something from the stories." (P.191). The talking circle format did not work perfectly, especially at the beginning, because the university researchers often felt a compulsion to respond by expanding on what teachers said. Our initial overriding of the circle rules did diminish, however, so that our comments connecting teachers' practice with a theoretical perspective came later in the meetings after the first session or two. The supporting roles we undertook were: listening (for example when teachers had problems with particular students, or were doubting their abilities to cope), celebrating (we often commented on the success of an activity), connecting (Lynn might note that Suzie was over-using question marks, and we might say that we'd seen this in Val's class too), and noting changes in classrooms over time (since we visited only once a week, the university researchers were much more likely than the teacher to see progress in children's literacy development). Ling Zhang, our research assistant, took the audiotapes of our conversations, which usually lasted about two hours, and noted down the major points. She also took brief field notes at our meetings. A verbatim transcription was not necessary for our purposes, which was to describe the specific practices teachers were using in their classrooms. These summaries were given to all the participants, but rarely commented on at subsequent meetings. The methodology we used followed the pattern described by Te Hennepe (1993): participants engaged in conversation, then engaged in analysis of what was said, and finally the researcher created a text to represent what was learned. We can make a valid claim that the teachers in this project have been researchers. They have met regularly to reflect on their practice and to share their insights with each other and with us. As first, despite our collaborative methodology, our co-researchers often looked to us as experts, expecting the "final word" on classroom practice. As this project proceeded, the teachers contributed more to the monthly meetings. The challenge was to maintain their confidence when sharing our knowledge with a larger circle. We were able to do this at the school system level, where we have presented our ideas several times using the conversation method. The school system Our confidence in using conversation as a learning and presentation tool evolved over several local inservice days. In February, the group was asked to give a presentation of our interim findings to teachers and to members of our funding agency's board. The teaches were very nervous about presenting their work; for most of them it was the first time they had talked before an audience of peers. The teachers spoke of their classroom activities and their experiences in a cross-cultural teaching environment. We used an overhead projector and sat together in a row in front of the audience. For a presentation several months later we used our circle format, involving session participants in a conversation about language arts teaching in a cross-cultural context. Our session ran overtime because the workshop participants, both First Nations and non-Aboriginal teachers, had so much to contribute. When presentations are not scripted in the words of others (in this case, university academics), then participants' voices are less likely to be silenced. Conversation as a methodology certainly had the flavor of a non-literate, collective mode of learning. Cultural contexts The university researchers came to cross-cultural research with a history of long term involvement in school-based projects. According to LeCompte (1993), "real participant observation may even mean a lifetime of collaboration," (p.15). We intend to live and work in Saskatoon for many years, putting us in Haig-Brown's (1990) category of non-Native people who choose to stay and work in society's margins. This is a difficult place for non-Aboriginal academics, whose motives are often suspect. Despite our conscious effort not to appropriate the choices of First Nations teachers, and to learn from their experience, it took a combination of sensitivity and persistence to hand the "expert" mantle to teaching colleagues. We have been able to be most collaborative in the circles of classroom and home community. It is only as we move beyond the face-to-face interactions familiar to traditional cultures that as academics we impose our discourse on the teachers' experiences. By using conversation as a methodology we began to move away from "traditional epistemologies and methods grounded in white androcentric concerns, and rooted in values which are understood to be inimical to the interests of the silenced," (Lincoln, 1993, p.32). As we participated in this study, discussing classroom practice and our roles in cross-cultural education, we came to realize that we were dealing not with monolithic "white" or "Aboriginal" cultures, but with the ways individual women built connections between their own lives and those of the children in their classrooms. In fact, we were involved in what Arlene Stairs (1994) describes as cultural negotiation. Stairs describes three levels of awareness, each focusing on specific aspects of schools' adaptation to indigenous culture. The first focuses on the "what" of indigenous culture. The first focuses on the "what" of indigenous education, such as the language and cultural content of curricula; the second looks at how communication and language patterns may be adjusted to support learning in a cross-cultural context; the third goes beyond these to think about the cultural values which underpin a community's life. Stairs makes the point that "school becomes a forum for negotiation among surrounding cultures, between itself and the community," (1994, p.156). At our network gatherings we discussed how indigenous culture was manifested in the teachers' classrooms. All the teachers used Aboriginal content for reading and social studies, and incorporated field trips to events with Native Indian themes (for example a chance to meet a Cree painter at the local art gallery, or attendance at a dramatic retelling of an indigenous legend). Lynn wore her "reading moccasins" and often had Aboriginal design touches in her clothing. Classrooms had Cree word charts and woodland art displayed on the walls. The teachers in our study, perhaps because of their own preferred communication styles, employed a variety of culturally congruent interaction patterns in their classrooms. Teachers explicitly taught basic Aboriginal cultural values such as respect for the elders, for the earth, and for each other. Material possessions were seldom commented on, and teacher voices were never raised. We interpret these behaviors as evidence that in their classrooms these teachers were operating at Stairs' third level of cultural negotiation, where the culture as a whole begins to permeate the classroom. Cultural negotiation can take place in the classroom contest, but if relationships between cultures are to be dynamic, Aboriginal culture will need to change education at the school and community levels. Within the public school system there has as yet been very little thought about new cultural forms for Aboriginal education, although the community schools where our teacher-researchers work have engaged in cultural inclusion at the content level, so that when you walk into the buildings you will find Native artwork and posted schedules for hoop dance practice. In our network group we had open discussions about what it meant to be a First Nations teacher. All three Aboriginal teachers were ware of the stresses involved in being "educated away" from their traditional backgrounds, and of trying to find their cultural identifies as well as consolidate their professional roles. Sometimes those of us who are non-Aboriginal spoke most strongly to the ideals of the Aboriginal world view in education, while our First Nations colleagues reminded us that there are children from a number of other cultures in their classrooms. Val laughingly asked about "cultural congruence" for one of her students, whose mother is Vietnamese and father is Cree. We have tentatively shifted cultural negotiation beyond the classroom walls into our networking group, but as yet we have not addressed issues of how to transform classrooms "from sites of cultural reproduction to arenas of resistance, empowerment, and social transformation," (McLaughlin, 1993, p.99). We have told the stories of the children with whom we work, but the telling usually serves to illuminate our difficulties in the teaching enterprise. In some ways we have set aside the socio-political implications of children's experiences with poverty and disruption. Stairs (1994) does not directly address social action as part of her third level of cultural negotiation, and it did not emerge as an issue for the First Nations women in our group, perhaps because they have been successful as learners and teachers in a provincial education system. Stairs (1994) cautions that even First Nations' control of education does not always lead to "deeply negotiated indigenous education" because of the ingrained practices of mainstream schooling. However, she gives us hope that when educators engage in cultural negotiation, there is a chance for cultural creativity to emerge. Both Western and Aboriginal perspectives could grow and develop as a result of cultural negotiation. Our monthly discussions reflected both cultural and curricular negotiation in classrooms. The next sections present our findings about literacy learning in four inner-city classrooms, described within the broader context of other research into cross-cultural learning. The following discussion of the curricular adaptations made by the teachers in their literacy instruction is based on a combination of the teacher network discussions, fieldnotes, and a review of cross-cultural research. Literacy Learning in Cross-Cultural Classrooms As researchers, we are cognizant that Saskatchewan schools are increasingly becoming a mosaic of cultures, each part intended to be in balance and making a distinct and positive contribution to the whole. Classrooms, too, are also a mosaic of children of diverse races, cultures, and ethnic groups including children of Aboriginal and Metis ancestry working and learning in harmony. These children bring to school their language, values, beliefs and ways of learning which have not always been understood or respected. For far too long, children of Aboriginal or Metis ancestry were marginalized because of language and cultural differences as Maria Campbell states in Half Breed (1973), "the whites on one side of the room and the half-breeds on the other." Recent Saskatchewan Learning policy has initiated changes to education that are intended to be inclusive for all learners. Thus, classroom teachers are being challenged to understand the varied and changing social and cultural landscape and know how to change familiar patterns of instruction to make schooling more effective to be inclusive to all learners. To do this, teachers must be willing to create classrooms that build on the "webs of meaning, value and community that children bring to school," (The Holmes Group, p.11).
(Field notes: 3/95) The Grade 3 routine in his inner-city community classroom is challenging yet supportive. Mike will participate in a host of literacy learning activities that will nudge him to increasing competency in literacy learning--Morning Message, Writer's Workshop and Novel Study, another chapter of the continuous adventures of Roald Dahl's Fantastic Mr. Fox. Fortified with a hot lunch provided by the school, he can anticipate an afternoon of classes and then a choice of community sponsored after school activities--crafts, sports, or Cooking for Kids before heading home which is often and unpredictable environment. Mike is but one of the children in this grade three classroom who live their lives in the shadows of family turbulence. Several times during the school year, conflicts have necessitated a return to his reserve and the protective and interim care of his Kookum, or grandmother. When he returns to the school, he is often unsure of the expectations of being a part of a learning community. But this is not unusual in the community school where many of his classmates live in troubled home environments--environments sometimes characterized by temporary guardianship, foster care, parents serving prison sentences, and the cycle of poverty, transient life, and violence that often characterize inner-city neighborhoods. Nestled in neighborhoods of Bingo halls, saloons, pawn shops, and other commercial enterprises, school is not just a learning community, it is a safe haven and a supportive environment. In the personae of "Linda" or "Angela" we have been participant researches in these inner-city community schools for the past few years, coming to know something about students such as Mike and observing in classroom cultures where children of Aboriginal or Metis ancestry comprise a large percentage of the membership. In many instances, we found that teachers are required to become change agents, attempting to bring reconciliation between diverse cultures--the dominant Euro-Canadian with First Nations cultures. Since the child's home and culture form the social cultural backdrop for school learning, we observe teachers grappling with how to create a context for learning that is attentive to the social and cultural background of students. This is often complex. Aboriginal cultures are not monolithic. Within these cultural groups there is a vast range of Aboriginal perspectives--children spiritually linked to their reserve--Saultaux, Woodlands or Swampy Cree, den, and Sioux--children raised in urban environments away from their network of community and kinship, children who are in interim guardianship, or Metis children who straddle both cultures or sometimes not quite sure where they feel rooted. Other classmates who may be members of the mainstream are often living their lives in anxiety, not immune from the cycle of family breakdowns, poverty and abuse. Daily life is often laced with apprehension and tentativeness, as children cope with social, cultural, emotional and economic stresses. Children are in great need, which requires teachers to institute social action at the classroom level. Teaching is continually changing to meet the needs of shifting populations. As the social landscape of Canadian schooling changes, questions arise about the very nature of cross-cultural classrooms? Are classrooms becoming cross-cultural enterprises where children co-participate? Or are they, instead, a myriad of blended cultures which provides education for assimilation? Do cultures mesh or are they thrust in opposition? Like McLaren (1989), we found that in inner-city community environments, "school life is understood as a plurality of conflicting languages and struggles, a place where classroom and street-corner cultures collide...," (p.186). According to critical theorists such as Girous, school is a mainstream economic and political enterprise that positions teachers to continue the status quo. As McLaren (1989) summarizes it, schools are encouraged to define themselves as "service institutions charged with the task of providing students with the requisite technical expertise to enable them to find a place within the corporate hierarchy," (p.5). In the schools where we were participant-observers, teachers were at the "battle-line" providing emotional, social, and intellectual stability as families wrestled with poverty and marginalization within a mainstream culture. Our participation within these inner-city community schools has illuminated how school life affects the literacy learning of children. In this report, we address the transformative role of the classroom teacher in a cross-cultural classroom. Teachers are positioned in the role of social and moral agents as Aboriginal and Metis children integrate and accommodate themselves to the existing school culture. Teachers within this project viewed themselves as facilitators for change in children's lives without consideration of the underlying political and economic issues. The classroom as a community What does it mean to be literate in the culture of a community school? Are there identified explicit and implicit literacy instructional practices that teachers employ to adapt to the needs of these children in these cross-cultural classroom contexts? Knowing that the emphasis on literacy as the main point of schooling can be a decided disincentive for children from cultural groups who do not value literacy in the same way as Euro-Canadians (Corson 1991, p.181), in this research we posed a critical question about what is culturally responsive literacy instruction. Although the goals of the school division were to simulate a community environment--an outside liaison with the children's culture, what actually succeeded was a pale reflection of Aboriginal ways, or schooling for self-determination. The ideal of a true community school was limited by the reality that while Aboriginal or Metis parents were supportive of schooling, they were not active school partners. Many of the parents were non-participatory in school events and viewed the formal education of their children as exclusively the responsibility of trained educators (McKay & Myles, 1995, p.166). Due to the lack of cohesion characterized by the transient neighborhoods and the few models of democratic cross-cultural classrooms, it became the responsibility of the teachers and to some extent support staff, to united different knowledge and backgrounds within a community of learners so that diversity was celebrated and affirmed. In observing this process, we found that each teacher was particularly circumspect, continually negotiating the curriculum so that one culture did not dominate and sacrifice the ideas of others. Negotiating an inclusive curriculum During a pendulum swing form program-centered instruction (textbook driven) to process-centered instruction (inquiry-driven learning), current district pedagogy focused on ways to make learning meaningful to individual children by tapping into their needs and interests. This broader educational philosophy recognized that "meaningful and enduring learning occurs most readily as the result of an active process of meaning-making, rather than a passive process of filling in blanks or repeating or recopying information," (Weaver, 1990, p.8). To achieve this goal, much of the learning in the classroom community was only indirectly stimulated and facilitated by the teacher. Instead, teachers created a nurturing learning environment in which children developed as readers and writers largely from opportunities to read and write; in which children learned from peers as well as the teacher; and in which children were encouraged to take responsibility for their own learning. In our research, we felt that there was a growing need to understand not just literacy but the contexts in which it occurs with all it multifaceted and interlocking meanings. We observed that the roles of these teachers were complex and multi-layered in this transition. They became increasingly committed to finding ways to listen and help children listen to the voices inside them, believing that school is a place where children's ideas should be valued and respected (Giroux, 1983). The most noticeable pattern connecting the four classrooms in the project was a common thread; a nurturing classroom climate was essential for literacy learning to flourish. Our most significant finding was that it wasn't what teachers taught but the way children were valued that made a difference in these classrooms. All teacher in the project worked explicitly with their students on the concept of respect (self-respect, respect of others, respect for elders, respect for property, respect for the earth and the environment) in an effort to create an egalitarian social order. Helping children resolve conflict through dialogue and mediation was paramount in order to gain the sense that the classroom was indeed a community. In turn, the teachers had respect for each child's ways of learning. Respecting children's ways of learning meant looking at the strengths of both cultures and knowing something of how their communities have encountered the challenge of conjoining cultures. All teachers felt that their role had been expanded from that of a facilitator for instruction and learning to include the teacher as a trusted friend, significant other and mentor. Understanding the possible ways for lives to unfold helped teachers become conscious of the strengths, the resources, the "rightness" of each learner's cultural milieu. In many ways, these classrooms became more than that, often functioning as an extended family and a "nice place to be". The teachers, whether consciously or not, assumed a role analogous to the Aboriginal "Auntie"--someone who guides and disciplines. Teaching and learning was carried on indirectly, like traditional teaching by elders in Aboriginal and Metis communities. School as a conflicting culture McLaren (1989) states that schools are the sites of both domination and liberation (p. 167), and we find that this may be true in cross-cultural classrooms. Aboriginal and Metis children are often disempowered by the interactive norms that the school requires them to possess. What became apparent during the study was that many learners experienced a discontinuity in cultural practices. Schooling required adherence to classroom rules--such as following instructions, sitting quietly, raising hands to take a speaking turn, standing in line, paying attention with eye contact to the speaker and regulating talk. The basic tenets of the school districts I-Care or I Can Manage Myself Programs which emphasized these rules for classroom living often interfered with and challenged these children's autonomy, and in some ways may be contradictory to traditional parent-child interactions. However, concepts such as conflict resolution, mediation, valuing moral and social justice were embedded in the group processes and these strategies were required for working and learning in a classroom environment. With a transient school population, community rules were continually a prime focus and always used as a basis of weighing conflicts. Fists, elbows and kicks were replaced with dialogue. In some ways, these classrooms had mediated a balance. The patient, non-punitive, non-coercive, and caring demeanor of these teachers minimized the effects of cultural discontinuity and helped children develop a social self without necessarily forfeiting a cultural self. All four teachers believed that self-esteem and confidence were important educational goals as they were foundational to academic success. Teaching and learning in a community school There is no multi-step model for teaching cross-culturally, but there are possibilities. The teaching styles we observed were characterized first by attention to the immediate needs of each child's emotional welfare and second, by attention to the task of instructing the child and providing an enriching school experience. Given the transience of the schools' population there needed to be some overarching structures. The philosophical position that guided teaching was that learners were actively constructing meaning, not just passively absorbing information. Language learning took place in a coherent, sensible, predictable, purposeful and holistic environment in which language was being used, not practiced. In Mike's class, many of his peers used nonstandard language patterns. One of the most pervasive and pernicious myths surrounding children such as Mike is that they have a language deficit and that schools must assimilate them immediately into the mainstream culture. In reality their "identity kits" (Gee, 1987), that is, their ways of using language, thinking, and acting may not be valued or welcomed in mainstreamed schools. Although the literacy curriculum inordinately favors learners from the mainstream classes as compared to those who have to "learn" it consciously in school, current cross-cultural pedagogy advocates building on the language and cultural experiences brought to school by all children. Thus, the choice between accepting and rejecting assimilation into the mainstream culture was softened, since the home cultures of "all student's prime discourses are valued," (Gee, 1989). In this way, the four teachers in the project validated all learners' present knowledge and used it as a stepping stone for the development of more complex understandings by organizing the practices and contexts for authentic oral and written language. Utilizing this framework, children learned through meaningful social interaction with more capable peers and adults in what Vygotsky (1978) calls "learning in the zones of proximal development," a pedagogical ideology not unlike the traditional circle of learning. Within this pattern, knowledge is a shared resource which is acquired cooperatively. Learning is similar to an apprenticeship as children learn from each other. Continually, children were immersed in language that added standard English, both oral and written, to the language which they brought to school. Recognizing that Mike's and other students' language was a powerful tool for thinking, learning and expressing, it was valued as an opportunity for building upon what they already knew without disrupting or threatening their learning processes. Aware that many Aboriginal children have cultural differences in communicative patterns, such as unsolicited replies, empty bids, and declined responses to questions (Corson, 1991, p. 56-57) teachers in community classrooms developed purposeful oral language opportunities for face-to-face interactions. To accomplish this aim, open-ended activities such as talking circles were structured, often with speaking stones or talking sticks as used extensively by Pam with her year ones. Teachers used sharing or news time, brainstorming, and reader response, which promoted the kinds of meaningful interaction that enabled these learners to understand the language of their peers and teachers with the contextual support for figuring out the meanings. Aboriginal children interacted with classmates in pairs working on mutually involving tasks that invited talk, discussion, questioning, and responding. As they worked together on tasks, they discussed, adjusted, and adapted decisions they made. In many of these activities learners participated by using their life experiences and symbolic resources for their ways of talking, singing, writing. Of equal importance were the other times when the learners were engaged in group activities, where children joined together and a sense of a classroom community was fostered. These varied learning configurations included whole-class, partners, and small cooperative learning groups or as in Pam's class, the talking circle. The teachers offered a perspective that difference does not mean deficiency. Indeed, difference enhanced and enriched the classroom community. In this manner, the school day was spent using language rather than doing exercises with its parts, working with functional texts such as letters, directions, newspapers, reports, poems, journal, and stories instead of filling in work-book pages. Rather than becoming exercise-doers, learners became authentic readers and writers celebrating with multiple voices. Participation in the project, visits by the university researchers and monthly McDowell meetings served to help the teachers become more reflective as decision-makers, using past teaching experiences to shape future actions in a cycle of planning, implementing, assessing and modifying learning. In particular, the tacit literacy learning practices became more explicit. Literacy learning activities What does literacy learning look like in Mike's classroom? Throughout the project we were alert to what kinds of literacy activities benefitted cross-cultural classrooms. To contribute to knowledge about language, one of the principal strategies that three of these teachers regularly employed in Grades 1-3 was Talk about Language or Morning Message, a minimal cue activity that fostered both spelling and combining textual cues with graphophonic information. Parts of words were "blanked out" to provide minimal cues--vowels, consonants, or letter patterns--that fitted together in a daily message reflecting on-going news, class themes, daily activities or even at times, reflecting the language and themes of an on-going junior novel. To achieve this, a reader or speller was directed to rely primarily on language cues in identifying the mystery words and phrases. G__d M_rn__g! Literature as a curriculum cornerstone A critical resource that was central to the day-to-day learning was literature, a cornerstone of the literacy curriculum that provided both a model of language and a stimulation for oral and written activities (Norton, 1991). Many children in Mike's classroom have had little previous experience with good quality children's texts because of the expense, non-availability, or lack of cultural appropriateness. The teachers in this study used literature to expand linguistic options and to acquaint children with rich language patterns, some of which were outside of their language community-descriptive words like "magnificent" and "fragrant" become integral to children's repertoire and appeared in both oral and written texts. Children had ample opportunities to explore a plethora of reading material--from Big Books in the grade one classroom to library books that included both fiction and non-fiction. Teachers intertwined a variety of ways to stimulate an interest in print--choral or whole class reading, partner reading or quiet reading strategies. In Pam's grade one class, two grandpas often came to read with her children. This was an important gendered model to socially construct reading as something that men are interested in too. Books were discussed in whole class talking circles, partners, small group or independent reader response journals as teachers grappled to encourage multiple interpretations of the texts to questions such as "does that book remind you of something you might have done or thought about in your own life?" or "why would you like that story character as a friend?" Experiences with literature were at the heart of understanding and valuing diversity (Rosenblatt, 1976). As children vicariously shared through literature the ideas, goals and feelings of others, they began to step inside the lives of others and become aware of issues of social and moral justice that permeated the classroom activities. Discussion about story characters' lives and actions were weighed according to the classroom community rules--what was fair and just. Intertextual connections were made between books and writing as children developed a concept of what it means to be an author. Some of the teachers frequently used patterned literary writing while the others allowed more topic choices. In many instances, teachers integrated Aboriginal literature into themes to highlight an alternate world view. This was especially comfortable for the Aboriginal teachers who were always anxious to open spaces for culturally relevant content--use of Aboriginal vocabulary, customs, celebrations or stories. For Lynn, the grade three teacher, who was discovering her rootedness to Aboriginality, it was an opportunity to weave her cultural self into the classroom by wearing her "reading moccasins" and including Cree words on the brainstorming charts such as wapos (rabbit) or amisk (beaver). A way with books Learning literacy is not always empowering and liberating; it can be controlling and silencing (Giroux, 1988). Too often, knowledge is in the teacher's control and ultimately it will control what and how children will learn. One of the project's benefits was that all four teachers began to rethink what it means to teach. Giroux (1983) believes that "teachers must take active responsibility for raising serious questions about what they teach and how they are to teach" (p. 378). Marion seemed to prefer using more integrated content themes such as whales, trees, or endangered species which opened new horizons for discovery, a purposeful need to know and a desire to learn. Mike and his classmates were continually absorbed with learning factual information during these key activities and were always finding ways to increase the amount of time spent "peeking at books." Informational books seemed to spark these children's passion for learning. One of the classroom "talk about books" routines incorporated into Marion's Quiet Reading Strategies was to share with a partner an important fact or observation garnered from perusing and reading the text and illustrations. Although he never took books home, Mike's desk always had a stack of library books. When opportunities presented themselves, he would make connections and build knowledge collaboratively by sharing his books with others, highlighting his wonderment about the natural world. This was a critical moment for Marion, who reached a new understanding about classroom pedagogy. Rather than adhering to a presentational function of teaching, which is controlling, she began to negotiate the literacy curriculum (Boomer, 1982; Stairs, 1994) by letting children follow their own intentions and engage in learning that interested them. No longer vexed by children's own tempo, she began "to let go" and trust that children could develop responsibility to explore their own learning and goal setting. Valuing learning was transmitted tacitly through the social relations and routines that characterize these day-to-day reading encounters. The rhythm of her classroom changed from one where individuals competed against individual to a partnership of learners who worked jointly to build mutual understandings. Over time, reading books became a transitional routine--book perusing was a before class, after recess and lunch activity. It was those quiet moments where children were intimate with a book that shifted the pace between the aggressive playground and the supportive classroom cultures. Books began to make their way into the lives of children. Some even asked for and received them for Christmas--not expensive high quality literature but Jane Goodall's Animal Series, which could be purchased with a car fill-up at Petro Canada stations. Writer's Workshop In these cross-cultural writing classrooms, writer's workshop was called authoring, conceptualized as original and individual expression of ideas, feelings, fantasies, sensations, memories and reflections. To ensure the individual qualities of the writer, young authors are advised to develop a "personal voice" and teachers are told to "listen to these voices" (Gilbert, 1989, p. 20). Personal texts become "real texts" when the writer's voice is no longer a string of words. In this manner, personal voice in writing becomes the metaphor for freedom and life itself. But do young authors find voice in community school classrooms? Although these teachers explored a variety of genres, writing was generally imitation of other texts. All four teachers experimented with a variety of writing activities, such as pattern writing, journals, poems, news, reports, stories, and research. Children made books about thematic studies, wrote thank you letters after field trips, exchanged penpal letters, and wrote notes to each other rather than exploring the elements of story. Although teacher-directed, these texts were the source of self-esteem and pride as children were always keen to share their efforts. But topic choice had boundaries. It was usurped for more directed writing for two reasons. First, there was an attempt to resist those topics often appear within journal entries which may not be considered school-appropriate. The theme of violence--real and fantasy-- as in media and video games often surfaced in discussions and writing topics. Although the persistent use of violent language appears to be a writer's deliberate attempt to mark social identity and to communicate with a personal voice it was deemed not appropriate for class consumption. Secondly, by using am ore directed writing approach that reflected little of life experiences, teachers felt that they were modeling the process using planning, drafting, and editing for the mechanics of language. In so doing, they masked that fact that the production of writing was for school texts and marketed the process of writing as "literature-in-the-making" (Gilbert, 1989, p. 163). Barthes (1977) warns teachers against assuming a voice of power (p. 149) by directing learners' texts. But what is the alternative for these classroom? Would a writer's workshop approach be more beneficial? Perhaps not at this point, as all four teachers are just getting their feet wet in writer's workshop. Many children were reluctant to share their cultural selves and did not have a brimming list of experiences such as picnics, family outings, helping dad in the yard, baking cookies with grandmother or making connections to their network of kinship and community to write to weave into a composition. While many children wrote journal entries about going to the "serve" (reserve) to visit relatives, others wrote about the darker side of family life- fights, no money, being left alone to tend infants. Given the nature of these four dedicated teachers it may be a way of connecting with a significant other, a trusting adult who will listen. If free writing opens personal wounds, then one must acknowledge that more directed writing allows young authors a chance to have practice with the craft. There are no easy solutions. Directed and purposeful writing could be the beginning of the pathway to personal voice. What this suggests is that "the growth of the personal voice in writing seems dependent--however ironical it may sound "on a process of trying other voices" (Protherough, 1983, p. 150). When working cross-culturally, Delpit's warnings echo. Delpit (1986) states that culturally and linguistically different children need access to the culture of power. She criticizes classrooms that don't seize the opportunities to demonstrate and guide for children in order to learn the language of economic success. This of course includes writing. There may be no ready-made answers. But it does make sense that there needs to be a balance between self-choice, guidance and demonstration. In making pedagogical decisions, teachers must continually keep in mind who and where the learners are and where is the next step. Often, that next step may be a tremendous hurdle. Given the multiple cultures in our classrooms, a teacher may find it difficult to initiate the kinds of writing Graves (1983) and Calkins (1986) advocate. Participation by gender The dynamics of power in classroom social relationships were complex. Immersed within school life, we were constantly surrounded by a series of conversations that illustrated social inequities. Between the conversational exchanges of learners there were constant negotiations of identities and social relationships; there was a continual juggling of speaking, rights, and entitlement to talk, or even to listen (Shuman, 1986). There appeared to be hierarchical social order. Often many of the Aboriginal boys interrupted others to "get the floor" or yell out an answer while most of the Aboriginal girls were reluctant to speak and opted for silence but not inattentiveness. Although the girls did not raise their hands or demonstrate an entitlement to speaking rights, their attentiveness was not misinterpreted, as it did appear that they were participatory. Even though they avoided face-to-face interaction, the girls were active listeners in key classroom activities. Girls preferred to talk to others one-on-one rather than risk talking in official classroom interaction. However, Val, the grade five teacher, found that gender participation was more idiosyncratic or social rather than cultural, as many of her Aboriginal girls were very participatory in oral activities. Over time, Pam, the grade one teacher, found that many of the Aboriginal girls became more vocal. One might attribute this to her continued emphasis on the talking circle as an approach that encouraged all to orally participate while at the same time weaving new social networks. In this way, the talking circle was comfort zone. This was not true in the Marion's grade three or Lynn's grade four classes who used the talking circle only as an occasional strategy. Linda observed most of Marion's girls for two years and rarely heard them orally participate in whole group activities. In both years, there was a vying for speaking rights between Aboriginal and mainstream boys even though the classroom composition was in continual flux. But girls remained as spectators rather than talkers. On several occasions in both the grade three and four classrooms, Linda had the opportunity to work with girls alone on special art and writing projects. Within this context away from the classroom arena, the balance of power shifted and girls were extremely vocal as they chatted and teased one another without any one girl dominating the dialogue or anyone being in a one-down position. This phenomenon of unequal gender participation will lead to further inquiry. Throughout this project the role of four teachers became more transformative. The most important teaching tool may not have been any one teaching strategy or instructional resource. Rather it may well be the sort of stance toward children they adopted. To put it in Lynn's words, "I care about these children and accept them for who they are." The most helpful stance for working cross culturally would seem to include an appreciation of children, not simply as speakers, readers and writers, but more importantly, as interesting people with experiences, opinions, and ideas to share with us and with each other. The teachers took the experiences and voices of students themselves as a starting point. By confirming and legitimating the knowledge and experiences through which Aboriginal and Metis children in community schools give meaning to their everyday lives, the literacy tools that school value may be embedded within relationships that the child values. Texts, like talk, may thus further the child's sense of belonging, that feeling of community that makes their school lives together both personally satisfying and socially meaningful. We have hope for these children that literacy will be a meaningful part of their lives. These teachers lit a candle of understanding--a flame that will glow for a long time. We, as university researchers, are making an important transition. We are viewing children through a social-cultural lens rather than a developmental one, a shift in perspective which may change the future of cross-cultural research. teachers participating in this project believe that the opportunity to work together as co-researchers helped them to refine and strengthen their teaching practices. In the words of one of our group, doing research was "no big deal", because it followed the natural rhythms of everyday practice. All four teachers believe that every lesson is a form of inquiry; a cycle of planning, teaching and reflecting on what they do. Our specific recommendations to other researchers are:
Level I:
To fund professional teacher networks for exploring similar
practices. We recommend that the application process by simplified. The teachers in our project felt that they would not have become involved in research without the support of the academics in writing up the proposal, and yet they thoroughly appreciated the opportunity to engage in reflective practice. Finally, we would like to thank the Foundation for funding our efforts. It was a privilege to be given some time to work together and spend time thinking about issues of literacy instruction in cross-cultural classrooms.
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