MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/related; boundary="----=_NextPart_01C796E3.379A7340" This document is a Single File Web Page, also known as a Web Archive file. If you are seeing this message, your browser or editor doesn't support Web Archive files. Please download a browser that supports Web Archive, such as Microsoft Internet Explorer. ------=_NextPart_01C796E3.379A7340 Content-Location: file:///C:/8296448C/Kowalski_Persistence_of_Traditional_Teaching_Final.htm Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/html; charset="us-ascii" Fairclough Analsy—Paper #2

PERSISTENCE OF TRADITIONAL TEACHING:  A CASE STUDY=

 

Susan M. Kowa= lski, University of Minnes= ota, Twin Cities

Gillian H. Roehrig, University of Minnesota, Twin Cities

Abstract

Feminist theorists (Hardi= ng, 2001; Keller, 1982) and the National Research Council (1996) have made recommendations for transforming both how science is taught and what = science is taught.  This case study ex= amined the relationship between a teacher’s characterization of what science= is, i.e., the nature of science (NOS), her beliefs about students and student learning,  how science is taug= ht, i.e., the teacher’s classroom practices, and what science is taught, = i.e. the teacher’s inclusion of NOS in the curriculum.  Jill is a new teacher in a suburban school district.  Observations= of classroom practices; interviews about classroom practices, students, student learning, and NOS; and critical discourse analysis of transcribed interviews provided evidence that Jill characterizes NOS progressively, holds transiti= onal to student-centered teaching beliefs, enacts teacher-centered practice, and does not successfully include NOS in her curriculum.  Jill’s progressive character= ization of NOS did not correspond with student-centered practices.  Instead, her characterization of s= cience as a school subject emerges as an influential factor.

 

The Persistence of Traditional Teaching:  A Case Study

     Introduct= ion

            In the tug-of-war of educational reform, science education has been pulled in = many directions.   How science is taught has been one= major focus of reform.  For example,= the National Research Council [NRC] (1996) issued the National Science Educa= tion Standards (NSES) encouraging teachers to rely less on teaching facts and more on guiding students through the evaluation of evidence and the constru= ction of knowledge—teaching science as inquiry. 

Along with= making recommendations for how science should be taught, NSES also delineate what science should be taught.=   The science standards comprise lists of major subject-specific ideas= as well as important concepts of the history and philosophy of science.  Along with listing specific topics= (e.g. Newton’s Laws), the standards call for instruction about the human aspects of science: that “Scientists are influenced by societal, cultural, and personal beliefs and ways of viewing the world” and  “Science is not separate from society but rather science is a part of society” (NRC, 1996, p. 201).=   Furthermore, the NSES empha= size “the actions of teachers are deeply influenced by their perceptions of science a= s an enterprise and as a subject to be taught and learned” (NRC, 1996, p. = 28).  In other words, a teacher’s actions reflect her beliefs about professional science (NOS) and her beliefs about science as a school subject.  Yet, does a teacher’s characterization of NOS necessarily align with her characterization of science as a school subject?  If not, which aspect (professional science or science as a school subject) plays the largest role?  The sp= ecific research questions to be addressed in this study are:

1.&n= bsp;     How do the two reform-oriented demands (how to teach and what to teach) interact with what a teacher believes about the nature of science, science as a school subject, students, and student learning to inf= orm teacher practice in the classroom?  <= /span>

2.&n= bsp;     How do the two reform-oriented demands interact with the teacher’s beliefs about NOS, science as a school subject, student= s, and student learning to inform teacher inclusion of NOS in the curriculum?<= /p>

Background

This paper proceeds in five parts.  First= , we will briefly examine the importance of conveying a contemporary understandi= ng of science to students.  Secon= d, we will consider discourse theory and its relationship to what we can learn ab= out the teacher in this study and the societal influences that shape her practi= ce.  Third, we will analyze the transcr= ipts of  interviews with one new te= acher about her understanding of NOS and beliefs about students and teaching using Fairclough’s (2001) three level analysis:  description, interpretation, and explanation of the texts.  Fou= rth, we will consider the teaching practices of the teacher over the course of h= er first year of teaching in light of her characterizations of NOS and science= as a school subject. Fifth we will summarize our findings and discuss how they= fit within the context of current research on NOS and science-as-inquiry teachi= ng and the implications for teacher education, consideration of schools as com= plex sites of interaction, and future research.=  

Why does a contemporary = view of NOS matter?

The call f= or teaching the Nature of Science (NOS) as a human endeavor is not new.  Lederman (1992) indicated that the= call for teaching NOS dates back to 1907 in the = United States.  Furthermore, Lederman (1999) indic= ated that basic scientific literacy includes an understanding of NOS.  He indicated that the reason for emphasizing NOS lies with the (untested) assumption that understanding NOS = will allow the general public to be savvy science consumers (Lederman, 1999).  Additional justification for teach= ing a contemporary view of NOS comes from the feminist critique of science.  The feminist critique of science a= nd recommendations for science education reform emerge from the call for equit= y in science.  Like the NRC, femini= st theorists (Keller, 1982/19= 92; Harding, 2001) have emphasized the non-neutrality of science as a human endeavor.  Yet, the feminist critique of science has gone further than the NRC, arguing that “objectivity is male subjectivity” (Howes, 2002, p. 27).  According to the feminist critique= of science, societal influences on science have resulted in the exclusion of w= omen and minorities from the practice of science (Stanley & Brickhouse, 2001= ; Howes, 2002).  Harding (2001) argued = that recognizing (and teaching) that scientific conclusions can simultaneously be “permeated by cultural values and interests” and “empiric= ally reliable, and by other conventional measures, the result of ‘good science’” (p. 292) enables science to expand to be more inclusi= ve of all people.  According to K= eller (1982/1992):

As I see it, the task of a feminist theoretic in science is twofold: to distinguish that which is parochial from that which is universal in the scientific impulse, reclaiming for women what has historically been denied = to them; and to legitimate those elements of scientific culture that have been denied precisely because they are defined as female (p. 313).

According to Keller, the ex= pansion of science to include questions of central interest to marginalized groups = will create a more socially responsive science.=   Thus, including an examination of the nature of science in high scho= ol science curricula is a pointedly feminist, anti-racist project.  

            Of central interest in this study is the relationship between a teacher’s characterization of NOS and science a school subject, a teacher’s characterization of students and student learning, and the teacher’s classroom practices and inclusion of NOS in the curriculum.  The NSES emphasize that a teacher’s beliefs will strongly impact the science content and processes in his or her classroom.  Yet, the connection between a teacher’s understanding of NOS and the use of student-centered practi= ces such as inquiry remains elusive (Lederman, 1999; Roehrig & Luft, 2004).=   Part of the complexity of the NOS/inquiry connection emerges because teachers do not hold monolithic understandings of NOS (Lederman, 1999).&nb= sp; At least six important elements of NOS exist, including:

(a) Scient= ific knowledge is tentative (subject to change), (b) empirically based (based on and/or derived from observations of the natural world), (c) subjective (the= ory laden), (d) necessarily involves human inference, imagination, and creativi= ty (involves the invention of explanations), (e) necessarily involves a combination of observations an inferences, and (f) is socially and cultural= ly embedded. (Lederman, 1999, p. 917).

Lederman further argued tha= t the relationship between theories and laws constitutes an important aspect of NOS.  According to Lederman, a teacher may hold traditional or contemporary understandings of each of the elements of NOS independently from the others.  Furthermore, a teacher’s ena= ctment of his or her beliefs appears to be context dependent (Kang & Wallace, 2004).  Because the curricular content and processes in a science classroom have great significance for ex= cellence in teaching and construction of equity in the science classroom, we seek to understand how a new teacher’s characterization of NOS and science as= a school subject shapes her teaching practices and curriculum. 

Teacher be= liefs about students, NOS, and teaching are complex, deeply rooted in experience, and n= ot necessarily internally consistent (Pajares, 1992); thus, we wanted to use an analysis tool to detect the complexity, richness, and contradictions of a teacher’s beliefs.  Crit= ical discourse analysis appealed to us as an analytic tool because of its capaci= ty to detect such complexities.  = According to Gee (2005), language builds or constructs seven things—known as the seven “building tasks” of language (p. 11).  Specifically, Gee argues that lang= uage (1) builds significance for some ideas over others, (2) builds activities (or is used to enact specific activities), and builds (3) identities, (3) relation= ships, (4) politics, (5) connections among ideas, (6) sign systems and (7) knowled= ge.  Thus, analyzing the language a tea= cher uses to describe NOS, science as a school subject, students, and student learning can reveal a teacher’s underlying beliefs about the same.  Thus, we turn to critical discourse theory and analysis to examine the teacher’s characterizations of NOS= , school science, students, and student learning in this study.

Study

Disco= urse Theory

Linguistic= s has historically included two opposing conceptualizations of language and langu= age in context (or “discursive formation”).  Saussure articulated the first conceptualization; namely, language is characterized as a universal tool th= at subjects may arbitrarily use but not alter (Kress, 2001).  Foucault, on the other hand, characterized language as a powerful force that completely shapes those that speak it (Hall, 2001) .  Fairc= lough (1992) took an intermediate approach: he held that language is neither an arbitrary tool for individuals to use (subject as central) nor that discour= se is completely constitutive of subjects and objects of knowledge (discourse = as central).  Rather, Fairclough = treats discourse and subjects as reflexive co-creators of each other.  Analysis of discourse must therefo= re consider both the language (that which shapes the social) and the situation= al, institutional, and societal forces that shape the language.  According to Fairclough (1992), the process of discourse analysis must proceed on three levels:

analysis o= f the text, analysis of discourse processes of text production and interpretation (including the question of which discourse types and genres are drawn upon,= and how they are articulated), and social analysis of the discursive “event’ in terms of its social conditions and effects at various levels (situationally, institutionally, societally). (p. 56)

Fairclough’s three le= vel approach is compatible with the characterization of discourse by Kress (200= 1), namely, that “The social is in the sign” (p. 37).  We will use Fairclough’s thr= ee level analysis when considering the characterization of NOS and science as a scho= ol subject, characterization of students and student learning, and the classro= om practices of one beginning science teacher, Jill (pseudonym).  We seek to uncover the social (Jil= l’s understandings of NOS, students, and student learning) through analysis of = the “signs” (the interviews with Jill about NOS, her beliefs about students and student learning, and Jill’s classroom practices). 

About the Teacher

            Jill is a new science teacher who was licensed in the summer of 2005 as part of a post-baccalaureate/M.Ed. program at a large research university in the mid-west. Teachers entering this program are required to have a bachelors degree in science before pursuing teaching credentials – Jill complet= ed an MS in chemistry concurrent with obtaining licensure.  Jill has prior scientific research experience in both university and corporate environments.   Her science methods course f= or licensure emphasized inquiry teaching and some aspects of the nature of science.  Jill also took six c= redits in  History and Philosophy of Science as part of her licensure program.&= nbsp;

Immediatel= y after obtaining her teaching license, Jill began teaching10th grade chemistry in a wealthy suburban school.  Jill taught on a 50 minute traditional schedule.  Because of a major construction pr= oject at Jill’s school, Jill taught chemistry in a regular classroom.  In order to conduct lab activities= , Jill needed to reserve time in the one lab space that all chemistry teachers sha= red.  We selected Jill from a pool of 60 teachers in a larger study of science induction programs for new teachers.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>  We based our selection on JillR= 17;s strong background in science research, her solid exposure to the history and philosophy of science and teaching science as inquiry, and because Jill enrolled in an advanced science methods course during her first year of teaching which emphasized teaching science as inquiry.    

As a final= note, Jill frequently mentioned that she felt her role at her school was to “fit into the mold.”  The other teachers expected her to teach her students the same conte= nt and at the same pace as all other chemistry teachers.  The other chemistry teachers gave = Jill their lesson plans and Jill agreed to try everything, at least once.  Furthermore, Jill did not have acc= ess to a science lab unless she specifically scheduled it.  When she did schedule a lab, it was typically already set up for an activity that another teacher would be doing.  If Jill would do the s= ame activity, the preparation was easy.  If Jill altered the activities or used her own activities, preparati= on would be incredibly difficult (i.e., taking down and replacing another teacher’s equipment before and after her own lab).  Jill indicated that she felt that = she was not able to use her creativity in this setting. 

Methods

As part of= a three-year study of science induction programs for new teachers funded by t= he National Science Foundation, we interviewed Jill ten times during the year:  lengthy pre-and post-in= terviews to explore her ideas about students, teaching, and science (Luft & Roeh= rig, in review); and eight “weekly update” interviews throughout the year, during which Jill explained in detail her week-long teaching activiti= es for a single course in each of the eight weeks.  All interviews were audio taped.  Furthermore, we observed Jill̵= 7;s classroom on four occasions.  = During the observations, we took careful notes of classroom activities and student engagement.  Lastly, Jill comp= leted an “Inquiry Portfolio” for her advanced methods course.  The activities and reflections in = the portfolio illustrate Jill’s best attempt at an inquiry unit during her first year of teaching. 

Jill’= ;s characterizations of NOS, science as a school subject, students and student learning are rele= vant to our conclusions.  Student-centered beliefs have been cited as an important factor promoting student-centered practices such as inquiry (Roehrig & Luft, 2004).  The pre- and post-inte= rviews included the Teacher Belief Interview or TBI (Luft & Roehrig, in review= ), an interview modified from the Teacher’s Pedagogical Philosophy Inter= view or TPPI (Richardson & Simmons, 1994); and a NOS interview (Brown, Luft, Roehrig & Fletcher, 2006), modified from the V-NOS C (Abd-El-Khalick, B= ell, & Lederman, 1998). 

We are int= erested in studying the NOS and TBI transcripts at three levels: first, to describe= the formal features of the text and determine the subjects extant in the teacher’s characterization of science and science education; second, = to interpret what Jill’s characterization of NOS, students, and student learning implies about the relative power of the subjects (or subject positions), including students, the teacher, standards, the curriculum, lessons, scientists, teachers, “informed people”, and Science itself; and third, to consider an explanation of the influence of social determinants on the subject positions and whether Jill’s discourse ab= out science will reproduce or transform its own social determinants.  After analyzing the NOS and TBI transcripts, we will discuss Jill’s classroom practice. 

We recursi= vely analyzed the transcripts to identify subjects and interpret the subject positions.  Fairclough’s (2001) discussion of schema, frame and script provided a structure for considering who the actors are and what the actors are doing—allowing= us to interpret subject positions. Once we had identified the subjects, we re-analyzed the transcripts with specific subjects/subject positions in min= d to look for inconsistencies.  Hav= ing identified the subjects and interpreted the subject positions, we considered the social context of the text at the situational, institutional, and socie= tal levels to offer an explanation for the variety of subjects and subject positions.  Separate from the discourse analysis, Jill’s transcripts were coded using rubrics (Abd-= El-Khalick, Bell, & Lederman, 1998; Roehrig, 2002).  Multiple researchers coded each interview and discussions were used to resolve differences.  Coding the transcripts using rubri= cs served to triangulate our findings with the discourse analysis.  Although analysis with coding rubr= ics provided a more holistic summary of the transcripts, the codes aligned well with our findings using the fine-grained, critical discourse analysis appro= ach. 

Interpreta= tion of discourse lies at the heart of any critical discourse analysis.  An interpreter brings “member resources” (Fairclough, 2001, p. 9) to the interpretation of the text.  Susan conducted the maj= ority of the discourse analysis, thus her “member resources” have significance for the analysis.  Susan is a Caucasian female graduate student.  She taught high school physics and physical science for ten years before pursuing graduate studies full time.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>  Susan is a teaching assistant and student teaching supervisor for the same post-baccalaureate/M.Ed. program t= hat granted Jill her license, but Susan did not supervise Jill’s cohort.  Susan conducted Jill’s pre- = and post-interviews, four out of eight weekly updates, and observed Jill’s teaching on two occasions.  Th= roughout the year, Susan felt that her interviews with Jill became more relaxed.  Both Susan and Jill laughed freque= ntly during the interviews. 

Jill’s Characteriz= ation of NOS

            In this section, we will describe the formal features of Jill’s NOS tran= script.  We will analyze the transcript to identify what subjects are present and how the grammatical features of the = text reveal the relational values between the subjects (Fairclough, 2001).  Thus, we will examine Jill’s pronoun usage, modes, and modality throughout the text. .  In the transcripts that follow, a = comma (,) indicates an un-timed pause, parentheses offset the description of acti= ons (e.g. laughs, whispers), square brackets ( [...] ) indicate overlapping dialogue, ellipses indicate omitted text, brackets ({...}) indicate the insertion of a comment or the alteration of text to maintain anonymity, a question mark (?) indicates rising intonation, all capital letters indicate emphasis by volume, and an equal sign ( =3D ) indicates the continuation of dialogue over an interruption.

Susan:  &n= bsp;          Ok.  Can scientific knowledge change ov= er time?

Jill:  &n= bsp;            = ;   Oh sure. (laughs quietly)

Susan:        &= nbsp;     How does it happen?

Jill:        &= nbsp;         How does it happen that it changes? Well, people run more experiments, and they, run them time and time again, and just prove, you know, things that were on= ce thought of as, fact, occasionally get dis-proven, um, by, upgraded technolo= gy, by, someone with an open mind, willing to question what we’ve always believed, I think they, there’s lots of ways that they, sometimes they change slowly over time? sometimes they can change with a, bigger discovery= I guess. More, um, quickly.  For= lack of a way to put that, um, I don’t know

 

First, Jill responds to Susan’s question by stating that “people run more experiments.”  Rather th= an describing scientific development as a change without an agent, Jill begins= by describing the actions of people.  For Jill, science is a process that people actively do.  Jill further describes scientists = as people who run experiments time and time again, as “someone with an o= pen mind, willing to question what we’ve always believed.”  The referent for Jill’s use = of the term “they” at the end of the section is unclear, yet, she is certainly describing scientific knowledge, the minds of scientists themselv= es, or both: “sometimes they change slowly over time? sometimes they chan= ge with a, bigger discovery I guess.  More, um, quickly.”  Thus, Jill creates one subject, the science/scientist.

            Jill’s transcript provides further evidence that she identifies science/scientist = as a single entity when she describes her own work as a scientist: 

Jill:  whenever I worked as a scientist, = when I’ve actually been a scientist, when I’ve either, worked as an engineer in industry, or, done, research, at a university setting, I’= ve never been like, Let’s formulate a hypotheses, I mean although you ha= ve ideas in your head about what you think you’re going to do, or, I feel like the way we teach students the scientific method is never how I’ve done science as a scientist? and I’ve heard a lot more people sort of questioning, the way that we teach the scientific method

 

Jill identifies herself as a scientist only when she actively does scientific work: “whenever I wo= rked as a scientist, when I’ve actually been a scientist.”  The past tense, “I worked as= a scientist” and “I’ve actually been a scientist” imp= lies that she is not currently “being” a scientist.  Jill so closely unites science wit= h the formal actions of scientists, she does not consider herself a scientist when she is not actually doing professional science.   

I include = below a final example of Jill’s unification of science with the scientists who construct it in order to establish Jill as a teacher who deeply believes th= at science is a socially constructed enterprise:

Susan:  Um, If two different groups of scientists from different continents study the same phenomena, will they ar= rive at the same conclusion?

 

Jill:  (Long pause) They may, (the word m= ay is very drawn out, intonation rising at the end), um, will they? for sure? um, people make mistakes?  people = s--, um, can view data in different light? and make different conclusions, so, i= f in fact they take the same exact data? they can view it from two different perspectives? and come to different conclusions? so, I don’t think you can answer the question will they make the same conclusion, um, if all of us were entirely objective? and we, none of us made mistakes, and we all took = the same data and looked at a our data objectively, through the laws and theori= es of science, then, I think, I believe we should all come up with the same conclusion but I know that we don’t all, we see, um, we see our data = and we see our science, like, through our own lens, for viewing it, so, people oftentimes, I think, look at the same thing and come to two different concl= usions, in science.

 

The modality of the passage reflects the difference Jill sees between an idealized science, and the rea= lity of a science constructed by people.  For example, Jill makes an interesting distinction between what scie= nce “should” be with what science “oftentimes” is.  In science, people “can view= data in different light.”  The conditional dependent clause, “if all of us were entirely objective” demonstrates Jill’s belief that objectivity is frequently not achieved—and includes herself as one of those scientis= ts who might very well not be objective.  Rather, Jill emphasizes that “we” scientists see “our” data and science through “our own lens.”   Jill’s pronoun use str= ongly indicates that she characterizes science as influenced by human creativity = and inference.  Furthermore Jill c= learly distinguishes data from conclusions.  The scientists first vie= w data through a human lens and second “make different conclusions.”  We argue that Jill’s understanding of the nature of science is highly contemporary—in tune with the standards set forth by the National Research Council. 

Having exa= mined the subject of science/scientist established through a description of the t= ext, we interpret the relationships between subjects from cues in the text.  We considered the questions “What’s going on?” and “Who’s involved?” (Fairclough, 2001, p. 123) to make our interpretations.  Jill’s characterization of science/scientists eliminates the potential for a hierarchical relationship between them.  Based on her te= xt, we argue that she places science and scientists on the same plane—science being the term for the actions of scientists.  Thus, Jill constructs science and scientific knowledge as a human endeavor and completely refrains from making any hierarchical distinctions between the two.

Although J= ill unifies the subjects of science/scientist, she creates a separate subject position for students.  The following passage demonstrates Jill’s demarcation between science/scientist and students, and reinforces the science/scientist link:<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> 

Jill:  I think the parts of, science, as a discipline, that are best represented in my classroom, I’m saying thi= s a little unconfident, um, are, are the ideas, that, in science, you, uh, you question things, that, you read and see and that, you, um, formulate questi= ons? so, I really want to teach my students to be questioning people? um, that t= hey read, especially the, um, normal media sources? the everyday media sources? the, questioning um scientific viewpoint that they question, scientific, th= ings that are presented as facts? in the media? but aren’t necessarily fro= m a scientific point of view?

&n= bsp;

Jill articulates the argume= nt that Lederman (1999) set forth as justification for developing public understand= ing of NOS—namely, to create scientifically savvy citizens.  Jill sees her students as non-discriminating consumers who need to learn to be “questioning people.” She wants to teach students to “questioning peopleR= 21; because that is what science/scientists do, “in science, you, uh, question things, that, you read and see and that, you, um, formulate questions?”  Once again, science is an activity that scientists are involved “in.”  In addition, the use of the pronoun “you” normalizes Jill’s stance on what science/scientists do—it is presented as fact, in spite of the rising intonation.  (As a side note, Jill used rising intonation throughout the interview, particularly when she was making asser= tive claims.  We took the rising intonation to be a reflection of her discomfort with assertion generally, n= ot an indication of uncertainty in the claim itself.)   Thus, students can behave li= ke science/scientists by critically questioning the media; yet, questioning the media is not participating in experimentation.  Indeed, Jill’s identificatio= n of herself as a scientist only in the context of formally doing science removes the possibility that students can be scientists in any informal way.  Jill does not present a science/scientist as something easily accessible to students.  She wishes to teach them to be “questioning people” but does not construct a role for them as scientists in the future.  Presumably, students can learn to be questioning people, but would h= ave little or no agency as scientifically literate citizens.  She does not list any examples of = civic participation or becoming a scientist.&nbs= p; The absence of a specific subject position for Jill’s students= as scientifically literate people (aside from critical media consumers) may re= veal that she does not expect most of her students to do science in any meaningf= ul way in the future.  

Although J= ill does not create a hierarchy between science and scientists, Jill has a very form= al relationship between herself as a teacher and her students.  When she states, “I really w= ant to teach my students to be questioning people,” she implies that they do= not already embody the identity of “questioning people” before comi= ng to her classroom.  Thus, Jill elevates her position of a science teacher well above the position of students. 

Along with teaching students to be questioning people, Jill seeks to teach her students how to engage in scientific activity:

Jill:  I really want to represent that pa= rt of science, in my class, as a discipline, and that I guess it’s just a h= ands on, um, investigative, discipline, that, um, and I think one of the rigors = of science, too is data collection and analysis, and so help, you know, teachi= ng your students, the, to um, learn how to create, um, scientifically sound experiments, that have controls, that, um, I don’t know, just in all ways, I guess, that a scientist would perceive herself, experiments,  think like a scientist

 

Jill wishes to teach her st= udents the processes of science—to teach them how to do science in some form= of simulated scientific activity.  Jill wishes to teach her students the characteristics of “scientifically s= ound experiments, that have controls.”&nb= sp; Thus, she would be teaching them to “think like a scientist,” not to be scientists, themselves.  Yet, because the setting is a clas= sroom, the students are not actually doing science.  Jill understands science as an act= ivity, but views her role as a science teacher as teaching a list of things to do = and things to learn: 

Jill:  I’ve heard a lot more pe= ople sort of questioning, the way that we teach the scientific method, and I’ve seen it even up here {referring to the university}, and now a variety of forms in textbooks, where, you know it will be a circle, like, O= H, well then we’d go back, and, you know, like they’re TRYing to m= ake it? the way that we teach it more true to life, but, it’s never, I don’t know, I feel like there’s no one solid good way to teach = it because it’s really NOT, you know, formulate a hypothesis, collect yo= ur data, blah blah blah, that, (laughs) I don’t know, so I have a lot of misgivings, about teaching the scientific method as, textbook cookbook, as I think we’ve traditionally, taught it to students.  And I don’t, I don’t f= eel like I’ve taught a good alternative, so, there’s something that= I feel like my program (laughs) didn’t prepare me for!  How do you really teach it?  Because everyone thinks you need to teach the scientific method, I’m sure that if I look at my district’s curriculum close enough I’ll find where I’m supposed to, but, I don’t fully know, how to, have it, still be able = to like draw on my, because I want to be able to draw on my own experience, and  be like, well, this is what I did,= when I’ve done some research, um, but it definitely wasn’t go through the scientific method step by step

 

Rather than simply encourag= ing her students to experiment, Jill feels that she has “no one solid good wa= y to teach it.”  The possibil= ity for student action and initiative is eliminated as Jill ponders how to “teach it.”  The transcription above illustrates the collision in worldviews Jill experiences when considering science as an enterprise and science as a school subject. =  Jill simultaneously unites science = with human endeavor and distinguishes classroom science activity from authentic science activity.  Additionall= y, although she does not believe that scientists follow any sort of traditional method “it’s really NOT, you know, formulate a hypothesis, coll= ect your data, blah blah blah”  she specifically asks, “how do you teach it?”  Jill considers her role as a teach= er in the institution of schools to be an imparter of information to her students, not a facilitator of authentic experiences for students.  We offer more evidence of JillR= 17;s characterization of school science a subject teachers teach and students le= arn in our analysis of her TBI.  <= /p>

We have interpreted the relative subject positions of science, scientists and stude= nts from the text.  Next, we wish = to consider the social influences on Jill’s characterization of Science = and scientists (Fairclough, 2001).  The situational, institutional and societal influences help explain Jill’s search for the right answers and the right ways to teach ideas.  The situational context of the int= erview (in an office at a University), made Jill nervous.  She frequently sought to provide t= he “right answers” and was fearful of the consequences of providing the wrong ones:=

Susan: {very high pitch} You’re doing fine, (laughs), you seem nervous, you’re fine, (laughs) Are you nervous?

Jill:  &n= bsp;   Yeah, kind of

Susan:  You shouldn’t be, it’s= not a test, (laughs) it’s an interview

Jill:  &n= bsp;   (laughs) It feels like it is!

Susan:  {very high pitch} Nooo,

Jill:  &n= bsp;   She’s going to take that recorder down the hall, be like,=3D (laughs loudly),

Susan:  No, no, no, no, no, you’re d= oing great

Jill:      =3Dlisten = to this girl! [What is she talking about?]

Susan:        =             &nb= sp;           [No!]        =             &nb= sp;            =      Not at all!

Jill:  &n= bsp;   I’m not serious! It’s just like,

Susan: (laughs), um,

Jill:      She’= ll be like, Gill, listen to this!

Susan: (laughs)

Jill:  &n= bsp;   What is with this girl?

 

Jill had not met Susan pers= onally before this interview and Susan had not observed Jill’s student teach= ing or graded her an any assignment.  Nevertheless, Susan was intimately connected with the type of  institution that graded Jill’= s work.  The situational context of the int= erview was highly intimidating for Jill—she saw Susan as a person who posses= sed both authority and knowledge about science education.  Suffice it to say, the situational context of the interview strongly influenced it.

Not only d= oes the situational context of the interview shape Jill’s response, but the institutional context of the school environment shapes Jill’s understanding of her role as a teacher.&nb= sp; For Jill, school is a place where knowledgeable people provide answe= rs to those who are less knowledgeable.  In the interview setting, Jill grasped for the right answers, and in= a teaching setting, Jill wants to know the right way to teach the scientific method.  By contrast, JillR= 17;s experience conducting research led her to understand science itself as an experiential endeavor:  scienc= e is something people in research facilities do.  Thus, the difference Jill construc= ts between doing science and teaching science is not only vast, it has everyth= ing to do with the institutional setting.   

Jill’s Characteriz= ation of Students and Student Learning

            In line with Fairclough’s (2001) three level analysis, we analyzed the transcripts of Jill’s pre- and post-beliefs interviews (conducted bef= ore and after her first year of teaching) by first considering word choice, grammatical features, the existence of rewording and overwording, and the u= se of metaphor in the text.  Seco= nd we interpreted the transcripts by considering the various subjects in the texts and the actions by those subjects to construct Jill’s schema for teac= hing science.  We then compared Jill’s characterization of subjects and subject positions in a science course to the general categories of “teacher centered,” “transitional,” and “student centered” teachers as described by Roehrig and Luft (2006).  According to Roehrig & Luft, a transitional teacher  considers student affect when plan= ning lessons and gauging student understanding whereas a student centered teacher considers the student as having “a critical voice in classroom decisi= ons and construction of knowledge” (p. 969).  Lastly, we considered the situatio= nal, institutional, and societal factors shaping the text and what effects Jill’s classroom actions may have on the reproduction of a traditional science discourse. 

            Jill identifies multiple subjects within science education, including the teache= r, the lesson, external forces (i.e. other department members and standards), research, the curriculum, teacher energy and enthusiasm, activities, and lastly, students.  Prior to her first year of teaching, Jill described a good science lesson:

Jill:      it should, you know str= ike students’ interests, spark their interests, in the topic, of the less= on, then it should, give them time, to, I can’t do it without “E’s,” explore the concept, you know, to like do something hands on where they really get to, you know actively, um, where they get to actively explore the concept on their own time, and, um, I think it should bring them back as, you know either groups or as a class to discuss the, the new concepts they’re learning about, what they found out as they expl= ored on their own, maybe any missing pieces, that they didn’t quite put together on the, on the topic, that’s what, I feel like the teacher is there to kind of, bring it all back and say, well did anyone catch this, did everyone understand that, and make sure that, that um, that although they’re exploring the topic on their own? that everyone walks away wi= th the same general knowledge base so that no one’s missing, snippets of information that are important, central to the concept, and, um, the lesson might not have to have like, a formal way of evaluating but that the teacher should you know, be there to, to try to figure out is it working, you know?= is it working, or not, are my, students picking up on what they, on what I want them to

 

In the second line, Jill st= ates, “I can’t do it without ‘E’s.’”  At this point she is referring to = the Five-E model for constructing science lessons, namely, Engagement, Explorat= ion, Explanation, Elaboration, and Evaluation.&= nbsp; Jill learned the Five E’s during her teacher certification program.  Her use of the phrase indicates a nod to the idea as an important one but also her attempt to pla= ce the same ideas in her own words to demonstrate what she considers to be authentic understanding.  Jill= made several comments (not included here) about the Five E’s being the ans= wer she is “supposed” to give, but also expressing her frustration = at not being able to articulate the idea without using “E’s.”= ;   The situational setting of the inte= rview (in an office at the university) certainly affected Jill’s responses, prompting her to feel like she was giving the “right” answer. 

The first = line in the passage states that the good lesson “should, you know strike stud= ents’ interests, spark their interests, in the topic.”  In this sentence, the lesson is the subject and the students are the objects.&= nbsp; Furthermore, she indicates that student interest is a quantity that = can be either sparked or struck by external factors.  Thus, students are rendered passiv= e, even when it comes to interest or engagement.  Next, Jill claims that the lesson “should, give them time, to...explore the concept, you know, to like = do something hands on where they really get to, you know actively, um, where t= hey get to actively explore the concept on their own time.”  The primary subject in the sentenc= e, once again, is the lesson.  The lesson has the capacity to give students time to “explore the concept.”  Jill clarifie= s what she means by “explore the concept” in the next phrase, “y= ou know, to like do something hands on.”  The use of “you know” indicates that the connection between “exploring a concept” and “hands on activities” is a transparent one that listeners would (and apparently should) agree on.  Thus, for Jill, physical involvement (doing something) equates with cognitive engagement (exploring the concept).  There are multiple examples of Jill’s conflation of cognitive engagement with physical engagement throughout the transcript.

            Regarding her own role in “the good lesson,” Jill indicates that the teac= her is there to “bring it all back.”  Implicit in the statement is that students exploring a topic on their own will require “bringing back.”  Indeed, Jill reiterates that the entire point of the good lesson is to help students acq= uire specific content: “that although they’re exploring the topic on their own? that everyone walks away with the same general knowledge base so that no one’s missing, snippets of information that are important, central to the concept.”  The use of the term “although” subordinates student exploration of = the topic to student acquisition of important ideas.  Thus within the “good science lesson,” student acquisition of content has highest importance.  The final role of the teacher is to determine, “is it working? is it working, or not, are my, students picking up on what they, on what I want them to.”  The phrase “is it working= 221; reiterates Jill’s characterization of the lesson as an active subject.  Students, on the oth= er hand, pick up information:  picking something up indicates a fairly passive activity, almost like collecting sh= ells on the beach.  Lastly, Jill indicates that the important content is determined by the teacher.  The good lesson “works”= ; if students “pick up” what Jill wants them to.  The primary actors in the “g= ood lesson” are the teacher and the lesson itself. 

            Later in the interview, Jill responded to the question, “How do you describe your role as a teacher?” stating:

Jill:      I feel like I, want, my= role to be, like, someone who, makes science interesting and, relates to students’ everyday lives, and I really want to teach them the chemist= ry that will help them just, understand the way, the things they see everyday,=   work, and kind of the molecular le= vel behind that

 

The above excerpt is just o= ne of many instances in which Jill articulates that she wants to make science both interesting and relevant to what students see everyday.  Analysis of her inquiry portfolio supports our finding here that Jill not only believes that interest and relevance are important, but actually structures her lessons to maximize interest and relevance (we will discuss Jill’s classroom practice lat= er in this paper).  Although Jill= wants to relate science to students’ “everyday lives,” she equa= tes “everyday lives” with “things they see everyday.”  Students certainly have more to th= eir lives than the physical phenomena they may see each day, and Jill acknowled= ges those aspects when discussing how she maximizes student learning in her pre-teaching interview:

Jill:      not that like every stu= dent is going to love you, or you should go for likeability, but I think to some extent forming relationships with students, where, you know, they know that they can trust you, where, they know that, um, they can talk about things n= ot related to school and you’re going to listen, kind of forming that, u= m, good one on one relationship, where you know your students as individuals, I think actually helps them, you know, work harder in the classroom, too, to = be more likely to, to like, be, excited to come to science and has less to do = with the actual, you know, lesson and planning or whatever, but, I think, like forming those relationships with students sort of helps you maximize? their potential?

 

Within this passage, studen= ts “trust,” “talk,” “work harder,” and are “excited.”  Thus, = Jill reinforces the role that she characterizes student affect playing in studen= t learning.  (Incidentally, the question asked = was, “how do you maximize student learning.”  Jill responded by describing stude= nt “potential.”)  The= use of the phrase “work harder” indicates that students work less h= ard if they do not form relationships with the teacher. Additionally, students “work harder” when they are “excited to come to science.”  The connectio= n of working harder with being excited indicates that one follows from the other= and can be equated with student “potential.”  Learning (or the potential to lear= n) are dependent on students’ affective state.  Lastly, Jill minimizes the role le= sson structure plays in student learning compared to student affect;  namely, the learning “has le= ss to do with the actual, you know, lesson and planning or whatever.”  The use of “or whatever̶= 1; minimizes the wide variety of activities or teaching practices a teacher can enact in the classroom.  To Ji= ll, lessons of all varieties have equal or near equal value provided that stude= nts are “excited.”  As stated earlier, Jill assigns high status to student acquisition of information.  The most effecti= ve means to achieve that goal is to positively impact student affect. 

            One final excerpt from Jill’s interview before she started teaching illustrates her unification of student excitement, student activity, and student learning.  Jill respon= ded to the question, “how do your students learn science best”:

Jill:      By DOING science.  There’s a canned answer I can truly and completely believe in! (laughs)...because kids really get excited about it for one thing, I mean they get excited, I think they, open their m= inds to REALLY thinking about, um, thinking about the science, in a new way, so, just doing it

 

To Jill, student excitement= ensues when students are “DOING science” or “just doing it.”  Excitement then al= most automatically leads students to “REALLY thinking about” science.  Activity and affect co-create student thinking (and thus learning). The use of the word “just” as students are “doing it” indicates that the activity does not need to be structured in any particular format, provided = that the students are physically busy. 

            From Jill’s pre-teaching transcript, we can construct Jill’s schema = for teaching science.  For Jill, t= he primary goal of teaching science is student acquisition of knowledge.  The teacher and activities generate student excitement or interest in science.=   When students are excited, they “open their minds to REALLY thinking” about science.  Thinking is equivalent to learning which follows (in almost a Pavlovian manner) from excitement about a topic.

            We described how the situational context of the interview (in an office at the university) shaped the discourse.  We also find evidence of institutional and societal factors shaping = the text.  The institutional embod= iment of chemistry in formal classroom settings holds sway for Jill.  When discussing her inquiry unit d= uring her post-interview, Jill justified teaching gas laws when answering the question, “How do you decide what to teach and what not to teach in a public school setting?”

Jill:   [things] that I think, are interesting and relevant and you know that, then I start, I guess, where the standards, leave off, and even where my textbook leaves off?  and, and misses things, and my co-workers kind of leave off?  I think I, tend to use my own experience, in science since, that is, what I’ve used, and what I’ve thought was important, and my own ideas of what, I think are relevant to students everyday lives and useful for them to understand, so for example, our curriculum, does not, include, gas laws?

&nbs= p;

Susan:  Oh wow

&nbs= p;

Jill:  Yeah, which= I think is just crazy there’s no chapter on gases per se...um, and I re= ally think that’s important, I really think that you can understand a lot = of everyday phenomena if you understand gases a little bit at the molecular le= vel, so...I’m going to teach this, even if it’s barely mentioned in = the standards and it’s not in my curriculum, I’m going to find a wa= y to teach that because I think it’s really relevant, I’ve used it a= s a scientist, um, you know, all my experience in my own classes tells me that, this is usually taught, in a chemistry course (laughs)

 

Jill cites both her experie= nce as a scientist and the authority of what is “usually taught” in chemistry courses to justify her inclusion of the gas laws.  Furthermore, she justifies teachin= g gas laws by arguing that “you can understand a lot of everyday phenomena = if you understand gases a little bit at the molecular level.”  The societal purpose of science schooling (to acquire information and understand everyday phenomena) aligns (for Jill) with institutional influences (what is “usually taughtR= 21;) to impact what Jill teaches in the classroom. Susan’s comment “= Oh wow” provides situational support for Jill’s assertion that teaching gas laws is important.  

At the end= of Jill’s first year of teaching, we conducted the TBI once again.  Her responses to the questions ref= lect very similar characterizations of the teacher, students, and activities as = her pre-teaching interview revealed with one notable exception.  At the end of the year, Jill no lo= nger equates doing science with excitement and thinking about science.  We asked, “How do your stude= nts learn science best?”

Jill:      OH boy (laughs), um, we= ll, I, as much as research would tell you they learn best from hands on activity a= nd they learn from, you know, doing science and being actively engaged in scie= nce, I do feel like that and I do feel like they have a lot of success there, but sometimes I feel like they have a lot of, trouble transferring the, the lab activities that they do, and sort of, um, they, they go through the motions= and they learn the techniques and they learn how to get results, but sometimes I don’t think they’re truly thinking about the chemistry involved? and so I feel like it’s r-, what a big challenge for me is finding inquiry activities that really make them think about the chemistry in order= to get to the endpoint, do you know what I mean?  Make them think AND do, at the same time, and I think if you find that happy medium, where they are thinking AND working, you know simultaneously, then I think they can REALLY be successful. 

 

Unlike Jill’s pre-tea= ching characterization of science lessons, she no longer equates “just doing it” with excitement and student thinking.  She has learned (presumably through experience) that students can “go through the motions” and get nothing out of an activity.  N= evertheless, Jill still thinks of science activities as the primary agent in a science lesson, it is the thing that will “Make them [students] think AND do.”  Furthermore, the e= ntire goal of the lesson is to get students to “think about the chemistry involved in order to get to the endpoint.”  Acquisition of student knowledge t= hrough activity is still Jill’s primary goal. 

            Jill not only understands that “busy-ness” does not necessarily tran= sfer to meaningful learning, she clearly articulates a student-centered understanding of how she knows that learning is occurring:

Jill:  I think, um, I think you notice by looking around at your classroom, I mean, but actually, paying attention to your students (laughs)...if they are asking on-task, in-depth questions, to learn and understand more, you know, once they’re trying to get beyond what you have given them...I guess I judge it by the level of questions my students start to ask me, you know, not so much just the questions I’m asking them and how good of an answer they can spit back at me? because generally they’re the questions I’ve prepared them for, um, I g= uess I can start to tell by, the questions I hear them asking each other? you kn= ow, are they truly thinking about the material? Are they trying to come up with solutions, are they trying to, understand it, are they asking each other and myself interesting, you know, deeper level questioning?...that’s something I can really tell like in activities and labs and stuff, I mean I= can always judge by, well, how’d they do on this test, you know, I mean, = did they learn what I wanted them to know, I mean, did they spit it back at me,= but I think that’s a little bit different than, knowing when they’re actively involved in the learning process

&nbs= p;

In the preceding transcript= ion, students have agency:  they ask questions of each other and the teacher, they try to get beyond information= the teacher provides, and they try to come up with solutions.  Jill uses the metaphor “spit back” twice to represent short term acquisition of content—specifically answers to the kinds of questions that Jill has prepared students to answer. Clearly, Jill does not value such responses.  Jill characterizes students’ learning as an active cognitive process the students must engage in.  To allow students to think and lear= n, she suggests teaching science as “partial inquiry”:

Jill:  Well, I gue= ss, what I want to try to do more of and I, wasn’t, really successful at = it this year, um, except for a few, times that I tried, but to really, um, I don’t know that I will ever do a lot of full inquiry? activities? like we, saw in class, but to get that, um, you know, balance, and that, partial inquiry...because I feel like it’s virtually impossible to, to get th= rough the material you’re required and to do, a full inquiry activity that = has all those pieces? in it? (laughs) 

 

Jill clearly indicates that= she values “partial inquiry.”  Furthermore, her use of “balance” to describe partial inquiry reveals that she considers full inquiry to be “unbalanced.= 221;  She clearly considers herself obli= gated to cover a vast amount of material.  Additionally, she considers “covering content” to be antithetical to the use of full inquiry. Based on our understanding of Jill’s school climate, we believe that she is, in fact, obligated to = keep up with the other teachers in her department.  Jill’s laugh at the end of t= he section may reflect her discomfort with speaking so plainly to Susan.  Later, Jill identified what she me= ant by “partial inquiry”:  

Jill:  you’re either having students develop, you know the lab procedure, or, maybe if that’s not possible in the lab, where you’re having them do, mo= re of like a small group, whiteboard presentation of their findings and where different, students are researching, different factors, in an experiment and sharing them in small groups with others uh, you know just to be putting on= e of those elements? into every lab?

 

While Jill acknowledges tha= t some elements of inquiry may be useful, Jill remains the subject of most of her text.  Students are not develo= ping procedures, Jill is “having students develop” procedures.  Additionally, students don’t= actively present information and defend ideas—Jill nominalizes the student act= ion and turns it into a “whiteboard presentation of their findings.”  Students are= the subject of the final sentences, namely, “students are researching, different factors, in an experiment and sharing them in small groups with others.”  However, Jill immediately undermines the emphasis on student agency stating, “just = to be putting one of those elements? into every lab?”  Student research becomes an elemen= t that Jill puts into a lab. 

Classroom Practice<= /o:p>

We now exa= mine Jill’s classroom practice to triangulate our findings from the discou= rse analysis and to consider how Jill’s characterization of NOS and scien= ce as a school subject inform her practice.&n= bsp; As described earlier, Jill enrolled in a year-long advanced science methods course during her first year of teaching.  The course required each teacher to design and implement an inquiry unit.   Teachers wrote reflect= ions on the units, described lessons in detail and described the effectiveness of the lessons.  They submitted t= heir work in an “Inquiry Portfolio.”  Jill described two sub-sections to= her inquiry unit:  gas laws and air quality.  The gas laws section lasted eight days.  Jill creat= ed power-point presentations on each gas law and distributed copies of the sli= des to students.  Jill’s tex= tbook did not have a section on gas laws, so the students did not have any readily available resource on the gas laws besides the power point hand-outs.  Jill indicated that she specifical= ly chose to do her inquiry unit on gas laws because, “I really think you= can understand a lot of everyday phenomena if you understand gases a little bit= at the molecular level.”    She taught three laws:  Boyle’s Law, Charles’ = Law, and Guy-Lussac’s “forgotten” gas law.  She did not teach the ideal gas law because she wanted students to focus on simple direct and indirect relationships between two variables.  For each law, Jill performed a demonstration for the students and “discussed” the chemistry related to the phenomenon.  She then asked the students to bri= efly explain the phenomenon.  For example,  Jill introduced Boyle’s Law using Cartesian Divers.&= nbsp; She built the Divers before class and passed them around to students= to play with.  She gave notes on Boyle’s Law and asked students to explain the Cartesian Diver in one = or two sentences.  The students d= id not need to provide evidence for their explanations.  Furthermore, Jill graded the explanations as either correct or incorrect. 

The air qu= ality sub-section of Jill’s inquiry unit required students to make a poster presentation on one of six topics related to pollution and global warming.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'>  Jill asked the students to work in groups of two.  She assigned e= ach pair of students a topic and assigned the students questions that they shou= ld research and answer with their posters.  The students used class time to research their topic in the library and on the internet and to construct their posters.&n= bsp; The final days of the poster project, students presented their poste= rs to classmates and answered questions about their posters.  Students in the class were assigned questions to ask about each topic (the same questions the poster presenters were assigned to address on their posters).  Jill felt the structure of the les= son contributed to a classroom management issue because:

Jill: (inquiry portfolio reflection) It took some encouraging to get students to visit all the posters on their own and also to stand by the= ir poster and act in a professional manner for the entire hour.  Students were tempted to visit onl= y a few posters and copy the rest of the information for their packet from their classmates.  It took careful monitoring and redirecting of students to keep them on task throughout the presentations.

 

She did not seem to have any awareness that the students had no opportunity to think critically about the topic, weigh evidence, or construct their own questions related to the assi= gned topics.  Nevertheless, Jill th= ought the lesson was successful:

Jill:  We, had dif= ferent environmental topics, they were all focused on air quality, they had an air resources unit, um, that they worked on, and each student got a different, topic, out of that unit, that they researched and did like poster presentations, kind of like poster talks style? in science?  and they really had to you know, b= e class expert and teach their fellow students?&nb= sp; and I think that really shows their understanding on their topic when they can present it to you, and, and teach their classmates about their top= ic and they take a lot of pride in it then, um, so I think those kind of activities? lead to, more authentic, understanding?

 

Jill emphasized that studen= ts learn when they have to teach a concept.  Essentially, the poster talks were high pressure oral exams in which= students answered questions they were told to answer.  Jill’s enactment of “inquiry” supports our finding from the critical discourse anal= ysis of her transcribed interviews; specifically, student acquisition of course content has high status in Jill’s lessons and student affect (excitem= ent or pride) plays an important role in motivating students to become cognitiv= ely engaged in the activities. 

At the sta= rt of the post-interview, Jill indicated that she was not satisfied with her teac= hing during her first year.  She cl= early articulated a student-centered understanding of student learning and offered “partial inquiry” as an approach to improve her teaching.  Furthermore, she characterized inq= uiry as a worthy but difficult goal:

Jill:   But I think,  getting to that level = of inquiry, WHOA! Has been a challenge, and I’m sure it will continue to= be for a long long time for me (laughs)

 

The use of the phrase “getting to that level of inquiry” metaphorically places teachi= ng science as inquiry at the top of mountain that Jill must climb.  She characterizes it as valuable a= nd articulates her difficulty implementing it—specifically when used in a directed form to help students acquire content (in line with Jill’s paradigm of science as a school subject).&= nbsp; Thus, although Jill does not understand how to enact inquiry within = her paradigm of science as a school subject, she indicates a willingness to lea= rn.

As the fin= al aspect of our analysis, we considered Jill’s portrayal of NOS to her students.  In Jill’s inq= uiry portfolio, she mentioned that she wanted to teach NOS in the unit on gas laws.  Furthermore, she wanted= to include an activity to support her school’s “reading across the curriculum” initiative.  She assigned the students a short reading from What Einstein Told His Barber (Wolke, 2000).  The reading posed a question about= how hot Tucson would have to be if it were twi= ce as hot as Miami and then provided the solution to the question.  Furthermore, the reading described= the Kelvin scale.  In addition to = the reading, Jill indicated that

Jill: (from inquiry portfolio) We discussed the nature of scien= ce is that many different scientists contribute to our overall understanding of scientific law or theory.  For example, Boyle didn’t have temperature scale.  Although he had some understanding= of the change in volume when heating a gas he had no way to measure it.  Charles’ Law couldn’t = have been developed without Kelvin’s scale.

 

Based on our observations of Jill’s classroom and her description of her lessons, “discussed” generally means “lectured.”  Note that in her characterization = of science as developed by many people, she reduces the idea to “things = to be learned”; namely, that the gas laws could not develop without the Kelvin scale.  Furthermore, her portrayal of Boyle’s and Charles’ Laws developing from Kelvin’s work implies that science is additive—new scientific advancements build on old, but the old are not necessarily discarded.  In characterizing science as an enterprise (from her NOS interview), Jill specifically indicated that somet= imes old ideas are abandoned—something she does not include with her inclu= sion of NOS in her lesson.  Thus, e= ven when Jill actively seeks to teach NOS in her classroom, her characterizatio= n of science as a school subject remains the prevailing influence on her practice.  Her progressive characterization of NOS as an enterprise does not translate into her practi= ce as a teacher. 

C= onclusions

            Jill characterizes the nature of science as an enterprise and the nature of scie= nce as a school subject very differently.  Although Jill characterizes school science as a place to learn speci= fic ideas, her characterization of professional science is progressive—sc= ience is a human activity embedded in society and culture. Jill characterizes students as occupying a lower subject position from teachers, but describes student affect and cognitive engagement as important factors to student acquisition of content.  Jill = strongly characterizes schools as places to learn the “right answers” an= d carries the institutional characteristics of schooling with her to her own classroo= m.  Lastly, Jill feels enormous pressu= re to conform in her school.  The pr= essure from other science teachers in her school and how Jill characterizes school= s as institutions and science as a school subject appear to play the most influential roles on her teaching practice.

Several studies have indicated that having a contemporary understandi= ng of NOS is a necessary but not sufficient for teachers to enact inquiry or student-centered practices (Roehrig & Luft, 2004; Kang & Wallace, 2004).  This study confirms th= at a teacher may characterize science progressively and yet enact traditional, teacher-centered practices.  I= n this study, it appears that Jill’s characterization of science as a school subject and her characterization of schools generally played an important r= ole in both how she taught and what she taught.  Furthermore, Jill’s characterization of science as a school subject did not match her characterization of professional science.&= nbsp;

Implications 

Science ed= ucation reform efforts challenge both how science is taught and what scie= nce is taught.  Teaching for excellen= ce and equity requires that teachers address both how and what they teach.  This study confirms the finding of previous studies that a teacher’s characterization of NOS (contempora= ry vs. traditional) does not directly control how she teaches science (Abd-El-Khalick, Bell, & Lederman, 1998; Roehrig &a= mp; Luft, 2004).  Jill characteriz= es the process of professional science as distinct from anything that may be encapsulated in a formal method.  Furthermore, her characterization of the nature of professional scie= nce is contemporary in all aspects.  However, Jill carries the institutional expectation of schools as pl= aces to learn things with her into her classroom.  She characterizes school science a= s a place where students learn the ideas she teaches.

We argue t= hat the transformation of the dominant scientific discourse in classrooms from authority-centered to student-centered and from socially-removed to socially-embedded has important ramifications for equity and the constructi= on of a more socially responsive science.&nbs= p; Because Jill characterizes professional science as an experiential endeavor while characterizing school science as a place where teachers teach and students learn, it is no wonder that she finds such tension between the classroom and “true to life” science.  We do not believe that Jill’s removal of authentic science from the classroom indicates that her students can’t do science.  Rathe= r, Jill considers science/scientist to be an identity constructed in formal re= search situations.  Her students are = no more scientists in a classroom setting than she is a scientist as a high sc= hool science teacher.  The situatio= nal context of the school setting strongly impacts Jill’s consideration of her students (and herself) as scientists.&= nbsp; Thus, Jill’s characterization of science as a school subject p= lays an important role in how she teaches science.    

 = ;   Jill is likely reproducing t= he dominant discourse of science in her classroom.  She does not seem to meet all cond= itions necessary for excellent and equitable instruction as set forth by the NSES.  The situational, institutional, and societal influences on teacher practice can not be ignored.  New teachers must be fully armed w= ith a roadmap for how to enact inquiry and student-centered practices in the face= of teacher-centered, traditional institutions.  Teacher certification programs sho= uld provide teachers with detailed, subject-specific examples of inquiry lessons that they can take and use during their first years of teaching—having student centered beliefs, strong content background, a contemporary characterization of NOS, and fundamental control of classroom management did not, in Jill’s case, ensure her enactment of inquiry and student-cent= ered practices. Future research should be conducted to examine the teachers̵= 7; characterization of science as a school subject—above and beyond their characterization of science generally or their beliefs about students.  Indeed, understandings related to science as a school subject may be more significant that understandings of = the nature of professional science in shaping teacher practices in the classroo= m.

Ackno= wledgements

This material is based upon= work supported by the National Science Foundation under Grant No. 0550847. Any opinions, findings, and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this ma= terial are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the National Science Foundation. We gratefully acknowledge the contributions of= Dr. Julie Luft as principal investigator for the above-mentioned grant.  This work would not be possible wi= thout her.


References

Abd-El-Khalick, F., Bell, R. L., & Lederman, N. G. (1998).  The nature of science and instructional practice: Making the unnatur= al natural.  Science Education, 82, 417-436.

Bianchini, J. A. (1997).  Where knowledge construction, equity, and context intersect:  Student learning of science in sma= ll groups.  Journal of Research in Science teaching, 34, 1039-1065.

Brown, M., Luft, J.A., Roehrig, G.H., & Fletcher, S. (2006, April). Predominant Paradigms of Beginning Secondary Science Teachers: The Development of a Nat= ure of Science Rubric. National Association for Research in Science Teaching, <= st1:place w:st=3D"on">Dallas, TX.

Fairclough, N. (1992/2000).  Discourse and social change. Malden, MA:  Blackwell Publishers, Inc.

Fairclough, N. (2001). Language and power (= Rev. ed.). Essex: Pearson Education Limited.<= /p>

Hall, S. (2001).  Foucault:  Power, knowledge, and discourse. I= n M. Wetherell, S. Taylor, & S. J. Yates (Eds.), Discourse theory and practice: A reader (pp. 72-81). London: Sage.

Harding, S. (2001). After absolute neutrality: Expanding science. In M. Mayberry, B. Subramaniam, & L. H. Weasel (Eds.), Feminist science studies: A new generation (pp. 291-304). New York: Routledge.

Howes, E. V. (2002). Connecting girls and science. New York: Teachers College Press.

Kang, N. & Wallace, C. S. (2005).  Secondary science teachers’ use of laboratory activities:  Linking epistemological beliefs, g= oals, and practices.  Science Education, 89(1), 140-165.

Keller, E. (1992).  Extract from femin= ism and science. In M. Humm (Ed.), Mode= rn feminisms: political, literary, cultural (pp. 312-317). New York: Columb= ia University Press. (Reprinted from Feminist Theory: A Critique of Ideology by N. O. Keohane et al., Eds., 1982 Brighton: Harvester.)

Kress, G. (2001).  From Saussure to critical sociolinguistics: The turn towards a social view of language. In M. Wetherell, S. Taylor, & S. J. Yates (Eds.), Discourse theory and practice: A reader (pp. 29-38). London: Sage.

Lederman, N. G. (1992).  Students’= and teachers’ conceptions of the nature of science: A review of the research.  Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 29, 331-359. 

Lederman, N. G. (1999). Teachers’ understanding of the nature of science and cl= assroom practice: Factors that facilitate or impede the relationship.  Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 36(8), 916-929. 

National Research Council. (1996). National Science Education Standards [Electronic version]. Washington, DC: National = Academy Press.

Pajares, F. M. (1992).  Teachers’ beliefs and educational research: Cleaning up a messy construct. Review of Educational Research 62(= 3), 307-332.

Roehrig, G. H., & Luft, J. A. (2004).  Constraints experienced by beginning secondary science teachers in implementing scientific inquiry lessons. International Journal of Science Education, 26(1), 3-24. 

Stanley, W. B., &a= mp; Brickhouse, N. W. (2000).  Tea= ching sciences: The multicultural question revisited.  Science Education, 85, 35-49.

Wainwright, C., Morrell, P. D., Flick, L., & Schepige, A. (2004). Observations of reform teaching in undergraduate level mathematics and science courses. School Science and Mathematics, 10= 4(7), 322-335.