Have you ever thought about the potential for unintended
consequences in acquiring disciplinary expertise? While one might assume that you see the
rewards as worth the risks, this might not be the case, as some of you might be
in the program more for the post-credential opportunities than for a genuine
desire to become an “expert.” How does all of this relate to your situation and
also to the current state of Doctoral
Education in Education?
Kurt here...alkdrhalkhga;
ReplyDeleteI admit that I have never considered how acquiring disciplinary expertise would have unintended consequences, at least not specific consequences. I think all education has the potential to change us, make us different people, and / or make it difficult to go back to things as they were before. Education, especially a Ph.D., can change our worldview quite dramatically. A focused area of expertise implies a narrower view of truth and knowledge. Is this a risk? Definitely. However, I am too early into my program to see the end. I can’t say whether I am in it for the post-credential opportunities or the genuine desire to become an expert. It seems like both right now. There is great pressure to do something great and to be successful with the Ph.D. I feel this pressure every day.
ReplyDeleteAs I read Doctoral Education in Education I felt like it was describing me, personally. I am one of the statistics described on p. 246 to be sure. I have also observed the practice versus research “conundrum” first hand, and since re-adjusted my lofty ideas of closing the “gap.” That being said, I believe it is possible to be “both an enterprise and a field of study” (p.248). I see the so-called dialectic as the nature of the institution, something I will plunge into much more deeply, I’m sure.
My program does a lot of what is recommend in the Crucial Elements of Scholarly Inquiry and Student Learning. In many ways that’s good, but I am experiencing some unintended consequences of seeking disciplinary expertise. When I first started last year, I was much like the people mentioned by Richardson (p. 258) who hold unexamined beliefs and misconceptions about education based on personal experiences. My experiences as a former classroom teacher, a graduate of public schools, and a parent shaped my views about education, teaching, and needed reforms. In my classes last Fall, I questioned the practicality of spending so much time discussing theory and research (especially qualitative studies with small sample sizes and a bunch a caveats (aka limitations)) when there is so much work that needs to be done to help schools. As I became more “enlightened” I began to see the importance of research and theory because one gets a much better picture of education as an open system with many influences that are interrelated. That’s why seemingly “obvious” fixes to schools and educational policies often misfire.
ReplyDeleteWhen I'm in schools now I find myself frustrated because I feel like their thinking is so limited. School leaders are so focused on pacing guides and end-of-year test data that they are engaging in many practices that educational research has shown to be ineffective and, at times, even harmful to children! I’m struggling to find where I fit in, in regards to theory-practice and formal knowledge-practical knowledge. I can’t call myself a practitioner anymore but I don’t consider myself an academic either (at least not yet). And while I feel like I’m getting a lot out of my PhD program, I’m not sure if its design will help me bridge the gap between scholarship and school/community engagement or actually widen it.
Despite a lifetime of unintended and unpleasant consequences resulting from my blind commitment to a pursuit, I have not yet considered the unintended consequences in acquiring discipline expertise. Looks like I still have many, or at least this same one, lesson to learn yet again.
ReplyDeleteSo what’s a middle aged white working woman financing her own part time doctoral education to do in order to avoid the traps of discipline expertise? Yes, I fit the profile quite well. Apparently, I might consider myself to be more of an expert than others will given the lesser status that educational research occupies. This might be bias #1. Even so, the blindness that engulfs all of us as we become embedded within a culture will surely come to me. I need to keep myself honest and surround myself with others who do so.
Richardson’s chart that includes the habits of minds is a useful tool to keep around. I should practice the habits as well. Regardless, I am very committed to gaining expertise in my chosen field of interest or study (generally, adult learning and org development). I believe the doctoral program is the path I need to take to get there. The path, I believe, includes immersion into the process of research and theory development, history of the field, current research that informs practice, current context and future trends, and the development of good “form” including critical analysis, reflective practice, and self-awareness.
I don’t expect a doctoral program will supply me with all of what I’ve outlined. It will be my job to seek from other sources that which I believe is part of the process of developing expertise. One of the habits I have tried to cultivate is to question what I think I know and look for my blind spots. When I become comfortable and complacent, I remind myself this condition also means I am blind. It might be okay for sleeping, but it’s not okay for the waking hours.
I am pleading “Guilty!” of pretty much every stereotype outlined in the readings this week. I have six siblings, most of whom are engineers or scientists. We have one “odd” sibling who is the Provost at an HBCU, but she’s tolerated because she’s a Provost! When I told my siblings (and even my husband, who is also an engineer) that I had decided to pursue my doctorate in educational psychology, most seemed flummoxed. Like me, most of them had spent their education in the “hard sciences” and held what I would call a dubious view of the study of education. Only the odd sibling got excited and proceeded to bombard me with advice on everything from research to how to complete a dissertation. From the outside, educational research seems a slippery trail to venture, with lots of distractions, poison oak, and unreliable footing.
ReplyDeleteOn another front, I am a high school teacher and department head who spends the majority of her time “in the trenches.” When Labaree mentioned the analogy of teacher:researcher = participant:observer, it really struck home. However, I would use the analogy of teacher:researcher = soldier:politician. Politicians and researchers are obligated to work with ideals and theory and principles, while soldiers and teachers must get their hands dirty in the “real world” in an effort to somehow reach an ideal created far away from the front lines. I cannot deny that I have rolled my eyes while reading many of the assigned research studies during my doctoral classes. In fact, it has probably taken me the entire first year of coursework to grudgingly learn to view things through this more distanced lens and to accept that there is, indeed, a purpose for it.
I found the readings very interesting this week. Recognizing myself in the articles made me challenge my own thinking and opinions. Labaree, in particular, did a fabulous job in defining and clarifying the reason for the educational researcher, as well as helping me to intertwine the two identities into a more cohesive whole.
Before I address the question, I want to point out how startled (disappointed?) I was to find myself described in such specific detail in the Golde and Walker piece. As a white woman who started her doctoral program part time at age 44 while continuing to teach, I am evidently the absolutely average, median, and mode doctoral student in education.
ReplyDeleteThe potential for narrow focus and isolation in academia is my primary concern with acquiring expertise in a specific discipline. As an educator, I believe the students and their well-being should remain the center of focus in education disciplines. In April, I attended the annual conference for the National Association for Research in Science Teaching (NARST) and was amazed by the breadth and depth of research presented. At the same time, I was saddened to realize how much of this research might never see the light of day as practice in actual classrooms.
While I see the value of research and expert credentials, without maintaining effective connections to practice, it looks to me like physicists who use supercolliders to look for mysterious particles. I want to do more than discover profound insight with little practical purpose. The risk I see is that in moving too far from the classroom, we might cease to matter outside of our own disciplinary circles of expertise.
Susan Dudley (i.e. the other Susan) here....
ReplyDeleteThinking of the unintended consequences had not reached my mind, perhaps because I am still seeking my true ‘intended’ consequences. I am interested in new challenges and learning; I see the potential of achieving new goals and having new opportunities from receiving my PhD. However, mostly, I am in the program because I want to grow, and there is still a part of me that wants to make a difference in the world, even if I am still unsure of what that difference (i.e. focus) is. I have tried to take this adventure as a new learning experience first, though I am constantly aware that I need to have a more specific goal and in particular focus as to what I want to study (and what I want to write about in my dissertation). Stating that I am an ‘expert’ in anything, even teaching ESL at the college level after many years, makes me quiver. I feel that there is always so much more to learn. The term ‘expert’, in my mind, implies that I know all there is to know about a subject or discipline, and I realize that this will never be the case. Yes, I can learn, know and understand a lot, but there will always be more to learn (understand and know).
That said, I know that as I learn more, I will change my opinions about many things. Having only taught in secondary ed for two years with most of my career in higher ed, I feel that I could not be an ‘expert’ without doing more in the classroom or at least without speaking and learning from those who teach at these levels. Richardson discusses three forms of knowledge—formal, practical, and beliefs and misconceptions (p. 245). I think that I have to be careful as my formal education grows that I do not assume my two years of teaching and the experiences volunteering have exposed me to enough practical knowledge to allow me not to have misconceptions.
Richardson (p. 246) quotes Lee Shulman to illustrate the difference between knowledge and understanding. I could not agree more that I worry about my ‘understanding’ and the practices that I employ because of what I think I understand. Critically analyzing my beliefs, from where they came, and whether they still hold true helps, but receiving others’ perspectives is also needed. Hence, when Richardson talks about the ‘Crucial Elements’, I see the need to ‘keep up with developments in the field in and outside one’s own area of expertise (p. 261) and to ‘seek and use criticism’ (p. 263). I realize that this can be challenging, for after one takes ownership of her/his ideas and feels that she/he ‘understands’ her field of expertise, it can be difficult to hear critiques about what she/he believes and practices.
I am not sure how this specifically relates to the Doctoral Education in Education. I gather the biggest challenge could be finding a balance between the practical knowledge in regards to teaching and the formal knowledge about what constitutes good instruction, classroom management, etc. Learning how to write proposals for funding, how to get published, and how to get accepted to present at conferences are all things that one will be able to do either during or after their doctoral program. However, I know I must remember that I as increase my ‘expertise’ in the field formally, that I must search out the ‘practical’ knowledge of instruction to allow for a better understanding of what is real and what can be done to improve educational opportunities.
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ReplyDeleteI think that a problem that I am seeing in the beginning process of becoming an expert in one area is that, as was mentioned in class, the narrower the focus, the less I actually know. Or at least the more I study a particular area, the less the research is going to be research that actually matters. However, I think one’s passion for an area is truly determined from their past experiences. For me, I have decided to study an area because of the positive impact that it has had on my life. While many people desire to see change in their area of study, I want more people to experience what I have experienced. This will give me the passion to continue to do research for what I hope is a long time. With that said, I think it is very easy to lose sight of the true goal of doing research, which is to bring positive outcomes to whatever one is studying.
DeleteIn fact, I had a discussion today with a student about the research that is currently done in academia. The student told me that they never want to feel pressured to do research, as is often the case at many institutions, but that they simply want to do research that they desire to do. I completely agree with this assessment. Unfortunately, many of our doctorate programs are housed in research-focused institutions, and the faculty feels pressure to do research, which is pushed down to doctoral students. This creates a cycle that will continue until something drastic changes. Instead of gaining practical knowledge, as Richardson highlights, especially when it comes to teaching for those of us who have never been in the classroom, the focus is on research and more research. While I love the education of researching, which I believe is best accomplished by doing the research, I feel that there is a fine line between providing a good educational experience and publishing just to add another couple of lines to your CV. There must be a balance found between research and the other areas of the faculty position - including service. And I do not believe this is currently the case in many schools.
Prior to last week’s class discussion on disciplinary expertise, I saw it as a positive achievement. Obtaining discipline expertise means one has theoretical and practical knowledge of their specialized discipline. Upon further thought, I can comprehend how disciplinary expertise could be a disadvantage for it could potentially result in one having analytical blinders.
ReplyDeletePersonally, I have always felt like a jack of all trades and a master of none; in this instance, I feel like I have a little knowledge of various areas within education, but I am not an “expert” in any of the areas.
Richardson spoke of the responsibilities of educational stewards and three forms of knowledge and understanding needed in education doctoral programs. I agree in the importance of generating new knowledge, understand the intellectual history of the field, and use best practices in the work and representing that knowledge to those within and outside of the field. In essence, stewards are scholar-practitioners who enter the cycle of reading and evaluating literature in order to develop or replicate experiments and share with the public best practices. During this cycle, stewards are required to have formal knowledge, practical knowledge, and be cognizant of their beliefs and misconceptions. Educational research often guides policy and for this reason, it is relevant for stewards to be confident their research findings are valid, evaluate other published research, and question the practicality of research findings.
In my experience, the educational scholar-practitioners’ I know are experts in a very small aspect within the field of education. Between the different grade levels (elementary, middle, and secondary), the array of subjects, and the pedagogical approaches to instruction, there is no way a person can be an expert in all of these areas, rather they hone their practice to something very particular – like studying the use of technology in secondary education.
Zeroing into one specific topic of education can assist in one becoming a disciplinary expert, but the cost may be having tunnel vision, analytical blinders, or bias towards other areas within the field of education. For this reason, I think I would rather be well versed in a couple areas within the field of education and maintain a holistic view of education.