Bibliography

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bell, J. (1987) Doing Your Research Project, Open University Press

Biggs, J. and Tang C. (2007) (3rd Edition) Teaching for Quality Learning at University; Open University Press; UK, McGraw-Hill Education

Bloxham, S. (2007) Developing Effective Assessment in Higher Education, Open University Press

Butcher, C., Davies, C., Highton, M. (2006) Designing Learning from Module Outline to Effective Teaching; Routledge

Cowan, J (2006) (2nd Edition), On Becoming an Innovative University Teacher, Reflection in Action; Open University Press; UK, McGraw-Hill Education

Crooks, T. (.  ) The Validity of Formative Assessments; Terry Crooks, Educational Research Unit, University of Otago, New Zealand

Kincaid, S., …………… The Profession of Education: Responsibilities, Ethics and Pedagogic Experimentation, chapter 3, section 1

Knowles, M. (1975) Self-directed learning: A guide for learners and teachers, New York: Cambridge Books.

Knowles, M. (1991) The adult learner: A neglected species. (4th. edn.), Houston: Gulf Publishing.

Nicol, D J. Formative assessment and self-regulated learning: A model and seven principles of good feedback practice, University of Strathclyde.
Pavey, Barbara. The Dyslexia-Friendly Teacher’s Toolkit

Punch, Keith, Introduction to research methods in education, 2nd Ed. 2014, SAGE

Race, P. Designing Assessment to Enhance Student Learning, University of Leeds
Rust, C. Developing a variety of assessment methods, Oxford Centre for Staff and learning Development, Oxford Brookes University, Oxford.

Race, P. (2007) (3rd Edition), The Lecturers Toolkit, A practical guide to assessment, learning and teaching; UK, Routledge, Taylor and Francis Group

Race, P. (2005) Making Learning Happen, A guide for Past-Compulsory Education; Sage Publications Ltd.

Rogers, C. R. (1983), The Politics of Education – in freedom to learn for the 80’s. Ohio: Charles E. Merrill Publishing Company

Sadler, D. R. (1989), Formative Assessment Revisiting the Territory, Assessment in Education Vol. 5

Tough, A. (1971). The adult’s learning projects. Toronto: Ontario Institute for Studies in Education.

Tough, A. (1978). Major learning efforts: Recent research and future directions. Adult Education, 28, 250-263.

Tough, A. (1979). The adult’s learning projects (2nd ed.). Austin, Texas: Learning Concepts.

Thomson, Bob. First steps in coaching, 2014, SAGE

Thurman, Sue. Communicating effectively with people with a learning disability, 2011, SAGE

Woolhouse, M; Jones, T; Rees, M; (2001) teaching the Post 16 learner, Northcote House Publishers Ltd

Other resources

An actor manages: actor training and managerial ideology Broderick D.V. Chow Theatre, Dance and Performance Training Volume 5, Issue 2, 2014, pages 131- 143 Published online: 08 Aug 2014 DOI: 10.1080/19443927.2014.908141

An Interview with Vygotsky: http://usapetal.net/misc/RGPortfolio/AIL601-Interviews/vygotsky.html

Brockett, R. G. and Hiemstra, R. (1991) ‘A conceptual framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning’ in Self-Direction in Adult Learning: Perspectives on Theory, Research, and Practice, London and New York: Routledge. Reproduced in the informal education archives: http://www.infed.org/archives/e-texts/hiemstra_self_direction.html

Carey, G., Grant, C., McWilliam, E., Taylor, P., : One-to-one pedagogy: Developing a protocol for illuminating the nature of teaching in the conservatoire. International Journal of Music Education, May 2013 vol. 31 no. 2 pp.148-159

Deci, E. L. and Ryan, R. M. (1985) : Intrinsic motivation and self determination in human behaviour. New York: Plenum

McRobbie, A., 2002. Clubs to Companies: Notes on the Decline of Political Culture in Speeded Up Creative Worlds

QAA Code of Practice for the assurance of academic quality and standards in Higher Education, Assessment

RCS. 2014. About RCS: The curriculum [Online]. Available: http://www.rcs.ac.uk/about_us/new curriculum/ [Accessed 12th Nov 2015].

Rimm-Kaufman, S. Sandilos, L. : Improving Students’ Relationships with Teachers to Provide Essential Supports for Learning. [Online]. American Psychological Association. Available: http://www.apa.org/education/k12/relationships.aspx

Spratt, M., Humphreys, G. and Chan, V. 2002: Autonomy and Motivation: which comes first?.
Language Teaching Research July 2002 vol. 6 no. 3 pp. 245-266

Handouts

image

Figure 1.1: Open vocal folds during breathing

image

Figure 1.1: Closed vocal folds during voicing.

Normal Voice Function

Voice is produced by vibration of the vocal folds. The vocal folds are a pair of pliable shelves of tissue that stretch across the top of the trachea. They are enclosed within the thyroid cartilage, which is the hard structure that forms the mass in the neck known as the Adam’s apple. The vocal folds, together with the muscles and cartilages that support them, are known as the larynx.

Biologically, the larynx evolved as a valve to protect the airway and lungs. Thus, it is positioned where the airway and the esophagus separate. The vocal folds open to allow breathing and close during swallowing to prevent food from entering into the lungs and during voicing.

Vocal fold’ is the modern term for ‘vocal cord.’ The change in terminology came about because of a better understanding of the anatomy and function of the larynx. ‘Vocal cord’ suggests a band or string suspended in the air that vibrates when it is plucked or struck. In fact, the vocal fold is a part of a muscle on the side of the larynx, covered with special tissues that can vibrate at a high speed. It resembles a lip of tissue much more than a cord. Only its outer covering vibrates.

In order to produce voice, the lungs blow air against vocal folds that are closed, but more loosely than they would be during swallowing. Air pushes through the very small space between them and in so doing, makes the covering of the vocal folds, known as the mucosa, vibrate. This occurs by means of a phenomenon known as the venturi effect. As air passes through a constriction (or venturi), it speeds up and creates a suction in its wake. This suction draws in the pliable mucosa from each vocal fold, which meets in the midline, only to be pushed aside by more air from the lungs. This cycle creates a repeating undulation which is known as the mucosal wave. The regularity of the mucosal wave is essential to the production of good voice.

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Autonomous processing handout

Autonomous Processing for Singing Lessons

 

What is there to learn?

How will we learn it?

When? Do we need to learn something previously in order to be ready to learn it?

What will learning it gain us?

What is it’s worth?

What could stop us learning it?

What can we do to overcome this barrier?

Can we do that on our own or would someone else need to help us?

Can we use that learning in another situation/ is the learning transferable to another task/situation?

Are we able to recreate that task on our own?

What were the tools we employed?

How do these translate to any other given situation.

 

Retraction Handout

Outcome

In creating sustainable sound the walls of the pharynx must be under the control of the singer, should be responsive to the needs of the sound being created and independently isolated from any extraneous effort. Learning to control the pharyngeal wall allows the singer to harness the space at the back of the mouth and the top of the throat as both a resonating chamber and a filter for the sound.

Aim

To control the width, height and overall size of the pharyngeal space at the rear of the mouth.

Objective

To allow sustainable sound to resonate without tightness, over-exertion or gripping.

Exercise

Start by breathing in silently through the open mouth. Maintain the silence on both the in and out breaths. Keeping the breathing silent, start to imagine the shape of the space at the back of the mouth. Is the space small, large, high, low, wide, narrow?

Kinaesthetic and visual image – Holding the hands with the finger tips and thumb tips touching, create a circle to imitate the shape and size of the back of your mouth and the top of your throat.

Gradually increase the space at the back of the mouth by focusing on the cool breath passing through the mouth and try to hold the increased space gained on the silent in-breath through the silent out-breath. Mimic this with your hand shape.

Once the breathing has become regular in pattern (but still maintaining the cool sensation at the rear of the mouth) introduce the following and monitor how the shape at the rear of the mouth changes in shape. Mimic these with your hand shapes.

Keeping the mouth open; SMILE, FROWN, RAISE EYEBROWS, SNEER, SILENTLY LAUGH, NOW EXPAND THE FACE BY COMBINING AS MANY OF THE ABOVE ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

Hold each change on both the in and out breaths as much as you can. (The effort to hold the shape consistently on the out-breath may cause you to lose the sensation when you can’t feel the cool in-breath). Each of these additions allows you to start to control the width, height or overall volume of the space at the rear of the mouth. This in turn allows the pharyngeal wall to become firmer, to move further away from the tongue, or to expand the resonating space that any sound needs. Control of this space allows you to start to make more effort in other muscle groups without the back of the mouth and the top of the throat becoming tight, gripped or tense.

Now let’s add small sustained voiced sounds. Gradually tighten the space at the back of the mouth/top of the throat and monitor what happens to the sound. Mimic this with your hand shape. Now contrast the tight feeling by adding in each of the changes (smile, frown, eyebrow lift, sneer, silent laugh, face expansion) and listen to the change in sound. Mimic this with your hand shape. On each in-breath make sure that the breath enters silently, maintain as much space at the back of the mouth/top of the throat and try to allow the space to be filled with sound.

This expansion of the back of the mouth/top of the throat allows the pharynx to be wide and the walls to be firmly held far apart from one another. The walls are retracted (withdrawn), held firmly and securely far apart, and allow airflow to move in and out of the lung (through the larynx) silently. This sensation of space is called retraction.

 

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Head and neck alignment, posture – Handout

Head and neck alignment

Outcome

The larynx is the organ that creates sound. This sound then needs to be amplified to become louder, filtered to create any desired effect and supported to become intelligible with words. All of these additional processes can cause unwanted strain or effort. The alignment of the head and neck is the key factor in allowing this. Modern day living, sitting, driving, using computers, telephones and many of the postures habitual to these tasks involve head and neck angles that are less useful for vocal production.

Aim

In creating versatile sound production the relationship between the head, neck and shoulders should be under the control of the singer, able to respond to the physical needs of character and flexible enough to continue allowing vocal production under most postural circumstances.

Objective

The primary need when beginning vocal production is to find a neutral and supportive posture that avoids any excess tension. Once you have found this specific control tensions can be added or removed more easily at will.

Exercise

Begin by finding a neutral stance. Place the feet parallel to one another under the shoulders and pointing forward. Raise the crown of the head as far as is comfortable and monitor how tall you’ve become. Contrast this with your habitual stance. What feels different? Where are you working more? What parts of your body are engaged? Are there any tensions that you can release?

Pay attention to these particular areas;
Feet balanced equally, weight being maintained through both the heels and the ball of each foot?
When the feet are pointing forward, parallel, under the shoulders, is there any tension in the thighs, buttocks, lower back, abdomen, chest, or neck? Does moving the feet create any undue tension in any of these areas? Which? Feet further apart will cause a redistribution of effort as your body realigns and supports itself while standing. Angling your feet outwards will allow a gripping of stomach wall or back muscles which will in turn affect your airflow. Find as neutral a position as possible. Knees soft? Are they locked backwards or bent too far forward?

Once a neutral stance is maintained raise the crown of the head to elongate the back of the neck. Contrast this with the following; RAISE THE CHIN, THRUST THE CHIN FORWARD, PULL THE CHIN BACK, PULL THE CHIN DOWN. All of the above postures affect sound production. Your aim is to avoid creating sound dependant on any of these. The head and neck should be free to remain upright, elongated and flexible to respond to the physicality of the character, and not be utilised to stabilise the larynx, reach for high or low notes or extended to try to make the sound louder.

Kinaesthetic – lets combine two hand gestures that will help us visualise and find the physicality of both retraction and the alignment of the head and neck. Keeping the crown of the head high, bring your fists together in front of the top of your stomach. Press the knuckles of both of your fists together. Keep the back of your neck long. With your fists pressing into one another where do you feel your body engaging? Shoulders? Shoulder-blades? Muscles between shoulder-blades? Under arms in the torso?

With the head and neck aligned the back can access large muscle groups to help support and stabilise the work that the larynx needs to do. There are other ways to stabilise or support the larynx that seem to achieve the same goal, but will have adverse effects on the sustainability of your voice.

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Anchoring

Repeat this and add in raising your shoulders to your ears after extending your fingertips. This engages the back of the neck.

Now just have your arms parallel to the floor at elbow height and draw your elbows straight back to the wall. Pinch the yoga mat gently with just the muscles between your shoulder blades. Try to make this pinch smaller and less effortful, then do the whole exercise agin while standing. Then again without the yoga mat.

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Socratic Questioning Handout

Socratic Questioning Handout

Conceptual clarification questions

What makes you say that?
What exactly does that mean?
How does this relate to what we have been talking about?
What is the nature of …?
What do we already know about this?
Can you give me an example?
Are you saying … or … ?
Can you rephrase that, please?

Probing assumptions

What else could we assume?
You seem to be assuming … ?
How did you choose those assumptions?
Please explain why/how … ?
How can you verify or disprove that assumption?
What would happen if … ?
Do you agree or disagree with … ?

 

Why is that happening?
How do you know this?
Show me … ?
Can you give me an example of that?
What do you think causes … ?
What is the nature of this?
Are these reasons good enough?
How can I be sure of what you are saying?
Why is … happening?
Why?

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Principles of learner autonomy could be:(Frank Lacey)

Learner autonomy

Autonomy means moving the focus from teaching to learning.
Autonomy affords maximum possible influence to the learners.
Autonomy encourages and needs peer support and cooperation.
Autonomy means making use of self/peer assessment.
Autonomy requires and ensures 100% differentiation.
Autonomy can only be practised with student logbooks which are a documentation of learning and a tool of reflection.
The role of the teacher as supporting scaffolding and creating room for the development of autonomy is very demanding and very important.
Autonomy means empowering students, yet the classroom can be restrictive, so are the rules of chess or tennis, but the use of technology can take students outside of the structures of the classroom, and the students can take the outside world into the classroom.
 

Reflection Handouts

Click to access allin_turnock_extract.pdf

 

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

1. Reflect on your thinking, learning, and work today. What were you most proud of?
2. Where did you encounter struggle today, and what did you do to deal with it?
3. What about your thinking, learning, or work today brought you the most satisfaction? Why?
4. What is frustrating you? How do you plan to deal with that frustration?
5. What lessons were learned from failure today?
6. Where did you meet success, and who might benefit most from what you’ve learned along the way? How can you share this with them?
7. What are your next steps? Which of those steps will come easiest? Where will the terrain become rocky? What can you do now to navigate the road ahead with the most success?
8. What made you curious today?
9. How did I help you today? How did I hinder you? What can I do tomorrow to help you more?
10. How did you help the class today? How did you hinder the class today? What can you do tomorrow to help other learners more?

Creating studio autonomy

Having both peer- and tutor-observed teaching studio sessions throughout the year, being critically assessed on teaching practice and having the space and time to reflect on the experience, I grew much more aware of the strain and anxiety inherent simply in the heightened nature of being observed. This provided me a rudimental opportunity to consider what the learner is able to respond to under pressure. Standing in a room with only one other person can heighten any interchange or cause anxiety in meeting expectation. Add to this that the other occupant of the studio is critically observing you and the stress increases. If this observer has also mastered the elements of whatever your discussion centres around, then we can start to understand the levels of strain a learner might experience.

As I grew more aware of the possibilities for mental anguish it felt essential for me to adapt my practice to overcome these mental barriers, both for myself and for the possibility that learners might experience them with me too.

Allowing an outside observer into the studio to comment on the relationship between learners and myself was stressful. I worried whether the dynamic would evidence the care, attention and thought that had been invested in my preparation. Would the learner feel held and supported, or simply doubly ‘watched’? Would they be able to rise to the challenge of continuing to make their own decisions, or would they collapse and need me to lead the lesson? I was concerned that the added elements of pressure would return us to previous teaching styles where I dominated the room and made the learning happen.

I found myself imagining that the observed sessions would result in recreations of some of those weeks where my confidence and trust in my ability were shaken. I prepared for this bleak and thoroughly negative outcome in three separate ways;

.
1. Creating equilibrium in the room.

2. Allowing the student to lead the outcomes.

3. Honing my ability to pose Socratic Questions (open and closed questioning)

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My hope was to lead where needed without commanding the space, structure the session without over-ruling the needs of the learner and create an environment where the occupants of the room were considered equals sharing the learning process with one another. This particular desire became so much stronger as I practiced it that my ‘teaching’ started to feel more like a Conversation Among Equals.

I formed the opinion that this change (facilitating the room, their learning needs and asking pertinent questions) contributed enormously to allowing learners space to experience leading and directing their own learning.

I took responsibility for creating the physical environment amenable to allowing equality in status. Choosing a studio with a grand piano allowed flexibility in sitting or standing as required by what the learner needed. Studios containing an upright piano created barriers and tension. The physicality of playing a piano against a wall meant I could rarely watch the student. Always being turned to one side, away from the student meant that there was very little eye contact or observation possible. This felt like a divide between learner and lecturer; lecturer turned to one side simply listening and judging, the learning trying to achieve open and honest sung text communication with the side of the lecturer’s head or back.


1. Creating equilibrium in the room.

  • Weekly triage. (Separate, sift and select from the learner’s vocal, emotional and psychosocial experiences of the week.)

 

 

One of the earliest changes that I made to weekly sessions was the introduction of a immediate short discussion with the learner. Previously I had used these first few minutes of each one-to-one session to deliver a vocal warm-up but now I allow them to have taken care of that themselves, autonomously.

In this ‘triage’ the learner is asked to tell me how the week has gone, what has been required of them vocally, and we ascertain how they feel they have coped with their workload.

The concept, well-used in medical practice, allows the lead practitioner to ‘tune-in’ to the nuances of what is occurring for the person they are listening to. The associations we make with the word ‘triage’ are, of course; emergency, trauma, warfare, and anxious decision making. Although the process can sometimes feel as vital, the reason behind its introduction into sessions came out of my feeling a need for space to calm and focus both the learner and my ear to what they bring in.

Initially I am actively listening to detect any fatigue, vocal pathology or disengagement in the larynx through spoken voice. I am primarily creating an opportunity for reflection-on-action during their week. I am also holding the space open for the learner to build valuable decision-making skills on what they believe they need, are ready for or interested in discovering.

While there are times that I have asked the learner to have made this decision before they come in for their session, the knowledge that this time will always be set aside prepares the minds of both of us to help support their needs. I am aware, however, that often I’m just working with whatever they bring into the room, reacting to their immediate need or psychological state.

The nature of singing lessons allows an intimate and close bond to be established. The students don’t have many regular one-on-one lecturer/learner learning environments. As with all young artists the emotions and frustrations of what they are experiencing and trying to achieve seem particularly fragile when in a small room attempting to achieve them. For some it could equate to a therapy session, and although I do give pastoral care, I remain aware that my role is to help them angle their distress or fear or excitement towards something outside of themselves and useful to their progression.

Depending on their age, focus and learning style sometimes it takes many weeks for a learner to start being capable of making the decision of what focus each weekly session will have. I haven’t looked for reasoning behind this phenomenon, perhaps this would further and deepen future research. School mentality, immaturity, wanting to be helped, a resistance to decision making or perhaps simply having less ability to know what to do might all play their part.

I now use triage because it allows me to collect a brief vocal history of the week and decide what I think we should work on. Then it is up to the learner to make the final decision. Once this pattern is understood the learner and I share the decision making on their weekly progress together. In itself it seems a small adjustment, but it appears to sharpen learner preparation for each session when they realise that their singing lesson is not run by me, for me or to benefit me.

Creating equilibrium in the room radically altered the perception of the dynamic. Learner feedback was positive, comments were numerous on how much easier the process was when I could pay full attention. I regularly asked for feedback on when they felt most supported or when they felt most exposed. Simply considering the facility of the room had allowed us these easier conversational learning moments.

  • harnessing physical facilities

My next realisation was in our use of the mirrors provided. Once selecting studios with grand pianos was initiated I started being able to stand or sit with greater ease, the rooms being larger to accommodate such large pianos meant here was also floor space. Once I realised that standing room was available I chose to stand more with the learner, and we began to be able to sit or stand together. When we were stood the mirror became a much more valuable teaching tool. Instead of just telling the student what to look at or for, when I was stood I was up on my feet in front of the mirror together with them. With both of us looking in the mirror demonstrating the discussion of the outcomes felt a great deal more natural. Simply having someone share the floor with them, share the exercise or share the discomfort of repeatedly and lengthily gazing in a mirror made the learners feel supported.

 

“It has to be when you stood with me. Once I stopped laughing it was SO much easier to work out what to do when I could see you do it next to me in the mirror.”

RCS undergraduate.

 

“It’s always easy to find better [acting] choices when you’ve got someone’s eyes to look into or avoid.”

RCS undergraduate.

Creating equilibrium in the room.

Weekly triage.

Harnessing the physical facilities of the space.

Simple physical facilitating seemed to increase trust and comfort exponentially. Two chairs, a music stand capable of extending up to eye-level and some floor space. Oh, and the desire to listen rather than tell. That’s all it took.

I was focused on creating as few divisions between the learner and myself as possible. It felt the most efficient way to allow less distinction between learner and lecturer. This was aimed at displacing the idea that the student was in the room with the expert to listen and follow.

Further inquiry revealed literature that was critical of aspects of my equalising system and questioned the status of those that allow learning to occur under this collegial (non-authoritarian) construct.

“In this approach the educator would be seen as a colleague of the recipient of instruction, as an equal […] neither party has a position of power over the other. The provider of care and the recipient of instruction are as equals. They meet and share a common concern for the intellectual and vocational well being of the person seeking assistance. Together they discuss the situation, consider the options available and reach a decision as to the most appropriate and desirable course of instruction.

Problem: Educators are not the equal of the recipient of education in so far as knowledge and skills. They do not see themselves on equal footing with those who they teach”

Shannon Kincaid, Ph.D., The Profession of Education: Responsibilities, Ethics and Pedagogic Experimentation. Chapter 3 section 1

Kincaid is right. Learners do not share the level of my knowledge (yet), status (yet), my confidence in experimenting or my lack of shame when effort doesn’t produce perfection. Recipients of true educational moments are, of course, hanging from every word and desperate to master whatever the guru holds as treasured wisdom. This in essence is an inequality. What does not seem correct however, by constructing an apparent equal plane on which the learner and the lecturer share space, is to then judge that sense of equality to be wholly false, not to be trusted or relied on. Creating a relationship with a learner that is dependent on a shared ability to say, feel or think freely  fostered moments of real shared practice. Learners discovered how not to be ashamed, feel hesitant or apologise for their current ability, but to open, trust and know that they would be held whatever happened. My observations were that by removing obvious elements of the client/practitioner model the learner and I shared practice. By working together there was no apparent leader and follower and that from this the learner became more empowered to experiment. I didn’t remove the actual fact of my observation, I believe that I diminished some of the negative associations with it. This allowed the learner to feel more in charge.

When I was being observed teaching created a useful reminder of the nature of how it feels to be put under high-stakes pressure. When an outcome is preciously precarious, no matter how well prepared, how well thought-out, how balanced and careful the approach, the brain and body can easily fall prey to doubts and worries, breathing becomes difficult and the ability to simplify and focus on the task is impaired. Though I discuss this tirelessly with learners with regards to their preparation for characterised sung text, I was reminded of how important these bite-sized repetitions actually are when I had to refocus on delivering sessions that were suddenly ‘high-stakes’ for me.

 

 

Project Rationale 2

THIS IS A WORKING PAGE FOR IDEAS STILL IN THE PROCESS OF BEING INCLUDED

The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland (RCS) is a national arts institution delivering vocational training and teaching for Dance, Drama, Music, Production and Screen. One of the aims of the curriculum is that it allows learners to;

“take responsibility for managing and evaluating their own learning and be resourceful, independent and effective in their approach to managing their life and work”

Graduate Attributes, RCS CURRICULUM (RCS, 2015/16)

In achieving this aim, there are opportunities for students and staff together to individually tailor the learning to the needs of each learning artist. As a member of staff in the Musical Theatre department, my role has been to offer modular content that introduces learners to the skills associated with musical theatre as a multi-disciplinary art form and encourage them to begin making educational choices of their own.

The career of an artist working in musical theatre in the 21st Century will require a broad skill set, an actively creative versatility and an ability to translate what is asked of them into emotionally intelligent, physically embodied and intellectually responsive artistic communication. Making sure that my teaching is effective, relevant, understandable and accessible for all learners who study musical theatre at the RCS ensures that they have the best possible chance of forging an artistic career.

I have recently been exploring the impact of my delivery on students’ studies at the RCS. This exploration has allowed me to gauge the barriers to learning for students striving for multi-disciplinarity. In turn, this has prompted me to look into my own teaching practice and examine what I can change to introduce autonomous practice and its benefits to our diverse learners.

This research documents what may be required of students in higher education with regards to autonomy, specifically in a Conservatoire setting. This will not only inform the efficacy of my own teaching practice for those learning alongside me, but will also provide a body of research that can be used to increase awareness of and strengthen strategies for teaching and supporting students studying in Arts Education. My belief is that empowering, enlightening, challenging and allowing each other to grow creates deeper, stronger, more resilient and interconnected human beings. It seems appropriate to believe that we cannot expect to achieve this without learners deciding to achieve this for themselves. Whether those strengths result in a learner being employed in the artistic industries or not, I look to help create modern leaders and citizens able to respond to the current workplace.

“Musical Theatre is currently the fastest growing performance genre internationally. It is therefore appropriate that the Conservatoire offers high quality […] HE training.”

Programme Rationale, Junior Conservatoire of Drama. RCS, 2015.

Concerns

Modern performing arts training shoehorning itself into a commercially lucrative degree level structure.
Corporate responsibility to support current school-leavers eager to transcend the drudgery of low paid, temporary work with little or no recognition of the self or creative input.

In this ‘creative’ and ‘created’ economy, older features of working life including the career pathway, the ladder of promotion, the role of bureaucracy, the ‘narrative sociality’ of a life spent in a stratified but secure workplace have been rapidly swept away to be replaced by ‘network sociality’ (Lash 2000). Work has been re-invented to satisfy the needs and demands of a generation who, ‘disembedded’ from traditional attachments to family, kinship, community or region, now find that work must become a fulfilling mark of self.

As Lash and Urry suggest ‘People are obliged to take control over their more flexible work lives.being constrained to reflect upon one’s social conditions of existence ‘ (Lash and Urry 1994 p 37). So those working in the creative sector cannot simply rely on old working patterns associated with art worlds, they have to find new ways of ‘working’ the new cultural economy
Musical theatre reacts to many different art forms, cultural idioms and musical genres. The golden era of musical theatre productions that brought together highly skilled, professionally trained dancers with dedicated character actors and singularly trained singers has developed into a more demanding industry now that the art form requires advanced levels of ability in all of these skill sets from one individual artist. Add to this the current trend for having actors who dance, sing and play musical instruments in the production and we begin to see the complexity involved in training such artists to be industry-ready. While we cannot see the detail of how musical theatre will next evolve, we address the difficulty of supporting the learning for this multi-disciplinarity by letting learners take control of their own journey; allowing individual focus and depth to be decided upon by the learner.

My research has allowed me to see the ways in which we can simplify and support that process while allowing personally relevant educational moments to occur, but has also brought up many challenging questions of how we fit vocational training into a modern degree level experience. The movement away from the student/lecturer model has brought both enlightenment and confusion/resistance. Questioning current student experience of studying at the RCS, clarifying the autonomy they display and understanding how to better their ability to direct their learning has exposed a level of misunderstanding over them leading their own learning.

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This project aims to explore the following key research questions:

– Is it reasonably practical to expect Autonomy for learning from undergraduate learners?

– What are the benefits and challenges to staff and student learning within a conservatoire environment?

– How do I currently instil these practices in learners through our curriculum delivery?

– What kind of autonomy is required, is it apparent/transparent and can/does it effectively influence and allow learners to become artistic leaders?

Brockett and Hiemstra, Kidd, Dam, Holec, Tough (all modern academic proponents of the various and numerous descriptors, terms and parameters for various forms, uses and benefits of autonomy) have documented much over the past two decades since the term was adopted by educationalists.

Few topics, if any, have received more attention in the field of adult education over the past two decades than self-directed learning. Ever since the 1971 publication of Allen Tough’s seminal study, The Adult’s Learning Projects, fascination with self-planned and self-directed learning has led to one of the most extensive and sustained research efforts in the history of the field.

Brockett, R. G. and Hiemstra, R. (1991) ‘A conceptual framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning’ in Self-Direction in Adult Learning: Perspectives on Theory, Research, and Practice, London and New York: Routledge. Reproduced in the informal education archives: http://www.infed.org/archives/e-texts/hiemstra_self_direction.htm

“It has often been said that the purpose of adult education, or of any kind of education, is to make the subject a continuing, ‘inner-directed’ self-operating learner.” (p. 47) Kidd, J.R., How Adults Learn (1973).

The debate that educators have been engaged in seeks not just to address the semantics of the definition but to clearly define the concept of autonomy in its various uses and guises.
Is autonomy a personal human trait, a political measure, or an educational move? Is it a learning process, with specific phases, in which the learner assumes primary control? (Tough, 1979). Is it a situation in which the learner is totally responsible for all the decisions concerned with his [or her] learning and the implementation of those decisions (Leslie Dickinson), a recognition of the rights of learners within educational systems, (Phil Benson), is it a matter of the learner’s psychological relation to the process and content of learning’ (David Little), or as Holec stated ‘the ability to take charge of one’s own learning’ (Henri Holec)?
Taken from Gardner and Miller, Establishing Self-Access from theory to practice. CUP (1999)See also Leni Dam, who has written a seminal work on autonomy. (Dam, L. (1995) Autonomy from Theory to Classroom Practice. Dublin: Authentik

Mocker and Spear identify four categories comprising lifelong learning: formal, where “learners have no control over the objectives or means of their learning;” nonformal, where “learners control the objectives but not the means;” informal, where “learners control the means but not the objectives;” and self-directed, where “learners control both the objectives and the means” (1982, p. 4).

However, in describing the nature of self-education, Gibbons and Phillips (1982): ” Self-education occurs outside of formal institutions, not inside them. The skills can be taught and practiced in schools, teachers can gradually transfer the authority and responsibility for self-direction to students, and self-educational acts can be simulated, but self-education can only truly occur when people are not compelled to learn and others are not compelled to teach them–especially not to teach them a particular subject-matter curriculum. While schools can prepare students for a life of self-education, true self-education can only occur when a person chooses to learn what he can also decide not to learn.” (p. 69)

Using the related concept of the “autonomous learner,” Moore (1980) has described such an individual as one who can do the following: “Identify his learning need when he finds a problem to be solved, a skill to be acquired, or information to be obtained. He is able to articulate his need in the form of a general goal, differentiate that goal into several specific objectives, and define fairly explicitly his criteria for successful achievement. In implementing his need, he gathers the information he desires, collects ideas, practices skills, works to resolve his problems, and achieves his goals. In evaluating, the learner judges the appropriateness of newly acquired skills, the adequacy of his solutions, and the quality of his new ideas and knowledge.” (p. 23)

Another view of self-direction that stresses the phases of a learning process has been offered by Knowles (1975). His view has been perhaps the most frequently used in the adult education literature to date: “In its broadest meaning, ‘self-directed learning’ describes a process in which individuals take the initiative, with or without the help of others, in diagnosing their learning needs, formulating learning goals, identifying human and material resources for learning, choosing and implementing appropriate learning strategies, and evaluating learning outcomes.” (p. 18)
As has been noted earlier, most efforts to understand self-direction in learning to date have centered on the notion of an instructional process in which the learner assumes a primary role in planning, implementing, and evaluating the experience. Yet, this view becomes weakened when considered in relation to semantic and conceptual concerns such as those raised by Brookfield. One of the first authors to address the confusion over the meaning of self-directed learning was Kasworm (1983), who stated that self-directed learning can be viewed as a “set of generic, finite behaviors; as a belief system reflecting and evolving from a process of self-initiated learning activity; or as an ideal state of the mature self-actualized learner” (p. 1). At about the same time, Chene (1983) addressed the concept of autonomy, which she largely equated with self-directed learning. In this article, Chene distinguished between two meanings of autonomy, where one view is psychological and the other “is related to a methodology which either assumes that the learner is autonomous or aims at achieving autonomy through training”

One of the key aspects to consider in defining Learner Autonomy is whether we view it as a means to an end (learning a foreign language) or as an end in itself (making people autonomous learners). These two options do not exclude each other, both of them can be part of our views towards language learning or learning in general.

Principles of learner autonomy could be:

(Frank Lacey)

Autonomy means moving the focus from teaching to learning.
Autonomy affords maximum possible influence to the learners.
Autonomy encourages and needs peer support and cooperation.
Autonomy means making use of self/peer assessment.
Autonomy requires and ensures 100% differentiation.
Autonomy can only be practised with student logbooks which are a documentation of learning and a tool of reflection.
The role of the teacher as supporting scaffolding and creating room for the development of autonomy is very demanding and very important.
Autonomy means empowering students, yet the classroom can be restrictive, so are the rules of chess or tennis, but the use of technology can take students outside of the structures of the classroom, and the students can take the outside world into the classroom.
(For an introduction to learner autonomy, see Reinders (2010).)
All from Anglisticum website
“Self-education or, The philosophy of mental improvement”, by William Hosmer: ” The common opinion seems to be that self-education is distinguished by nothing but the manner of its acquisition. It is thought to denote simply acquirements made without a teacher, or at all events without oral instruction . . . Besides the absence of many, or all of the usual facilities for learning, there are at least three things peculiar to this enterprise, namely: the longer time required, the wider range of studies, and the higher character of its object.” (p. 42) Hosmer (1847)
What I would like to cover in my research paper

What autonomy can be defined as.

What kind of autonomy I believe might be required of or beneficial to learners in a conservatoire environment.
– What kind of autonomy is required, is it apparent/transparent and can/does it effectively influence and allow learners to become artistic leaders?

– Is it reasonably practical to expect Autonomy for learning from undergraduate learners?
– What are the benefits and challenges to staff and student learning within a conservatoire environment?
– How do I currently instil these practices in learners through our curriculum delivery?

What I’ve incorporated in order to introduce autonomous practice

This is because autonomy is seen either (or both) as a means or as an end in education.

Learner autonomy first entered the field of language teaching through…

In 1971 the Council of Europe’s Modern Languages Project established the Centre de Recherches et d’Applications en Langues at the University of Nancy, France. Yves Châlon and Henri Holec, first administrators of the centre remains a prominent figure within the field of autonomy today.

Self-direction in adulthood has often been described as, for instance, has emphasized the concept of self-planned learning. His research was concerned with a specific portion of the process: the “planning and deciding” aspects of learning
It is hoped that the findings from this research will further enable both learners and myself to understand the true meaning of autonomous practices and where personally responsible progression is individually required. The creation of greater and deeper conversations between learners and myself generated further discussion on individually tailored progression, encouraging learners to take control of their journey and feel supported in, stimulated and inspired by their own engagement and less reliant on expert advice or leadership.

My belief that learners would experience leadership for themselves, become better equipped for a career heavily dependent on self-mastery, motivation, ambition and creative independence has not always been unchallenged. Documenting one’s own teaching when installing new practices has required strength, flexibility, openness and an ability to react to disappointment and learner confusion.

 

 

 

 

Project rationale

THIS IS A WORKING PAGE FOR IDEAS STILL IN THE PROCESS OF BEING INCLUDED

Formalised learning and the benefits of learning have been the focus of many enlightened generations. In 1908, in his Theory of the Moral Life (New York: Rivington Publishers. p. 98) John Dewey wrote

“Education should create an interest in all persons in furthering the general good, so that they will find their own happiness realized in what they can do to improve the conditions of others.”
The purpose of this research, has been, perhaps, a little less altruistic, but still sits within the ethos of Dewey’s early 20th century proposal. The position of Lecturer in an arts educational establishment has allowed me to observe current practices, wonder at the efficacy of expecting some form of autonomous behaviour from young learners, and challenge myself to find ways in which I can improve their exposure to the benefits of autonomy through my delivery of singing lessons.

Why do I feel that my research may lack Dewey’s education-as-altruism tenet? I strongly believe that learners benefit from having a clearer understanding of what is expected of them. I know that they gain insight when they can ascertain why a task or technique might be beneficial to them or at the very least have an opportunity to decide for themselves that which may aid them. The primary reason for researching the challenges of autonomous practices, however, lies in furthering my own understanding of the structure and delivery of modular content that I am contracted to deliver. I am documenting and researching for growth in myself. Failing to find reasonable benefit, clear gain or good cause for implementing tasks that elicit autonomous behaviours would give a clearer justification for allowing teaching to return to a behaviourist model of delivery. Singing lessons could be much simplified by just telling students what to do, how to do it and allowing them to repeat until mastered. My aim, however, is to make clearer our present position with regards what autonomy we expect of students at The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and how we ask it of them.
If I believe, as Dewey did, that education should improve the condition of others why am I so concerned over the details of aspects of how we achieve that goal? What has drawn me to question autonomy and its usefulness? The answer was somewhat unclear to me at the outset of my research. What I was aware of were doubts over the actual benefits of various educational terms, structures and principles (Autonomy and Independent Study). I was somewhat hesitant to ask students to commit to tasks that I wasn’t certain they understood how to do, or had a clear understanding of how to reproduce on their own. I also carried a certain historic and very personal sense of having been unable to decipher what was really required of an undergraduate when studying in an arts education myself.

My difficulty as a 17 year old student had not been with workload, engagement, new vocabulary or in my relationships with my lecturers. I had struggled, instead, with the sense that there was an unspoken and unknown expectation of me. It appeared possible that despite being bright, keen, talented and a hard worker, undergraduates can sense that degree-level arts educations require more than good behaviour and dedicated scholarly graft and yet still not know how to engage. My feeling now, as a lecturer, 20 years later, is that I didn’t lead my own undergraduate learning and possibly my lecturers wanted me to. It may be that I thought that learning was what happened when someone else told you what to do.

When this research began perhaps I felt that the introduction of autonomy and independent study in higher education were covert ways of we in education absolving ourselves of responsibility for student progression.

It is conceivable that I chose to research autonomy to decipher what I missed out on educationally. If so, there is a risk of drawing personal conclusions when observing the current cohorts of learners. In an effort to avoid confirmation bias in my findings I have opted to document what I actually do, ask and expect of learners and then gain feedback on the process from them.

My current assumption is that taking responsibility for their own learning is vital to the long term development of a student’s artistic career. Future challenges from industry professionals when graduates are auditioning, casting, rehearsing, writing, choreographing, characterising, being directed or collaborating on professional work within musical theatre need to elicit genuinely communicative and deeply considered responses. Helping deepen their sense of ownership over their learning could allow this responsibility, communication and sharpened response to increase. My aim; to challenge learners within a framework that they understand, can respond to and control.

In an effort to ascertain what current undergraduate learners believed they knew about autonomy a colleague and I posed a few questions to musical theatre undergraduates and collected their responses. Answers to the following questions showed a range of mis/understanding.

What is autonomy?
Of the 18 Students asked – 09.11.14 – What is autonomy?
Answers were;

8 – I don’t know.

4 – The opposite of collaboration.

3 – Learning for yourself, actioning PDP content on your own.

3 – Something to do with anatomy.
There appeared to be a lack of understanding over what autonomy is, how autonomous behaviours are learned and what the concepts actually require. If autonomous practices are being adequately taught, supported and explained wouldn’t there be more evidence of autonomy in learners and at least an understanding of what the definition of the word is? There seemed a disparity between what we as lecturers want to occur in learner’s progression and the level of it occurring. If autonomy is what we want of our undergraduate learners how do we explain it, how is it framed and why do some learners seemingly attach such low value to understanding and experiencing it?

questions that matter

As lecturers we face numerous challenges as we manage our duties and strive to provide our students with the best opportunities to learn and realise their potential within a safe and supportive environment. We develop philosophies of learning, vision and mission statements; we plan programmes of learning, engage with professional development, communicate with colleagues and community members and through reflection and assessment refine our processes. We strive to meet the needs of individual learners in every aspect of their development and provide them with the pastoral care they require. All of this means our days are busy but also hopefully rewarding, the danger though is that sometimes in these busy days the little details that can make the biggest impact are lost or taken for granted.

Take questioning as an example of a piece of our teaching that we do every day but that can require a subtlety of detail that can be skipped within a busy lesson. Is it predominantly the teacher asking students questions to test their knowledge or recall? Is it students asking questions to clarify information? Is it a mix of student and teacher asking questions to generate inquiry topics or to dig deeper into a topic? Once we are clear on who is asking the questions and what their purpose is we can begin to examine the specific details of the questions.

We all try to ask questions that are open ended. Questions that can be answered with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ clearly will not move the conversation forward, nor will questions with a straightforward response requiring little other than recall of a piece of information, but we know to avoid these. Thinking about the subtle details of how we pose questions leads to an examination of the language we use within our better questions. Do we model questions in ways that encourage divergent thinking where the students are able to think beyond imagined limitations and restrictions? Ponder the impact of asking ‘How can’ questions versus ‘How might’. This level of subtlety is one of the questioning factors explored by Warren Berger in ‘A More Beautiful Question’. ‘How might’ is one strategy he suggests is useful in encouraging students to think beyond constraints and moves them past counter questions of ‘can we’ or ‘should we’.

What manner of questions should we encourage our students to ask? If we are to encourage out of the box thinking and innovative ideas we must provide opportunities for students to ask questions that connect their interests and passions. If our students are always asking the questions we have imagined for them, or worse still that the textbook writer imagined, when do they get to imagine their own questions? Dr. Richard Curwin explores this in a blog post titled ‘Questions Before Answers: What drives a great lesson?’ Curwin explains the need for lessons centred on a question so engaging to students that it gets under their skin and compels them to inquire. I will argue that the most compelling questions are the great questions our students bring with them.

Consider a typical lesson as a dialogue and then look at this dialogue from the perspective of the teacher and the student. Often it goes something like this: The teacher begins the class either stating or implying that “At the end of this hour you will know . . . or ‘at the end of this hour you will have discovered x, y & z’. The student hears this and thinks politely to themselves ‘why don’t you just tell me now’ or ‘if I can learn this in an hour how important can it be’ or ponders that favourite of all questions for students to ask ‘why do I have to learn this’.

At the end of the lesson the student does indeed know the new fact or idea, they can parrot back an answer so they must. The teacher is happy and the lesson is deemed a success. At the end of the session the student can answer the question ‘what did you do today?’, they answer ‘not much’ for them the lesson was a failure. Why? For the student there was no learning, they acquired a new fact but that fact had no value because it was never linked to a question that mattered to them. It was not their question, it did not engage their interest and they just had to play the game to get to the end of the lesson where the fact would be revealed. They knew that the teacher knew the answer, many of the students probably already knew the answer, they certainly could have Googled it, and if they cared they probably would have.

Sometimes we do need to be the person asking the questions, sometimes we need to be the person transferring information; however, the quality of our questions, their power to engage and challenge thinking, combined with the opportunities we provide our students to ask the questions that matter to them are likely to be the times when the most powerful learning occurs. The challenge is to maximise these times.

http://thelearnersway.net/ideas/2015/2/8/the-questions-that-matter-most

Socratic questioning

Having completed both observed teaching sessions, having been critically assessed by both peer and tutor and now having the space and time to reflect on the experience, I’m aware of the strain and anxiety inherent simply in the heightened nature of being observed.

My goal of building-up the autonomy the learners display has taken a long and not obstacle-free 15 months. Allowing an outside observer into the studio to comment on the dynamic between learners and myself was stressful. Would this dynamic show the care and attention and thought I’ve given it in that time? Would the learner feel held, supported, or simply doubly ‘watched’ and would they be able to rise to the challenge of continuing to make their own decisions, or would they collapse and need me to lead the lesson, taking us right back to 5 months ago where I dominated the room and made the learning happen?

I found myself imagining that the observed sessions would result in recreations of some of those weeks where my confidence and trust in my ability were truly shaken. I prepared for this bleak and thoroughly negative outcome by honing my open and closed questioning, hoping to lead without demanding, structure without ruling and the experience created a useful reminder of the nature of how it feels to be put under high-stakes pressure.

When an outcome is preciously precarious, no matter how well prepared, how well thought-out, how balanced and careful the approach, the brain and body can easily fall prey to doubts and worries, breathing becomes difficult and the ability to simplify and focus on the task is impaired. Though I discuss this tirelessly with learners with regards to their preparation for characterised sung text, I was reminded of how important these bite-sized repetitions actually are when I had to refocus on delivering sessions that were suddenly ‘high-stakes’ for me.

I decided to focus on the Learning Outcomes for each session

LEARNING OUTCOME 1

DEMONSTRATE AN ENHANCED UNDERSTANDING OF INDIVIDUAL VOCAL PRODUCTION.

LO2

DEMONSTRATE AN ABILITY TO DESIGN AN INDIVIDUAL PROGRAMME OF EXERCISES FOR THE FURTHER ENHANCEMENT OF VOCAL DEVELOPMENT.

LO3

SHOW AN ABILITY TO REFLECT CRITICALLY ON PERSONAL STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES.

I began the sessions with a very clear introduction to the intentions of the session and quickly engaged the student in some autonomous decision-making around the content that we would be working with. I shouldn’t have doubted their ability to respond, they are clearly a lot more capable of delivering under pressure than I seem to be at the moment, and so they began reflecting on what topic was proposed and decided what they personally would like to work on in terms of repertoire that engaged with the focus of the lesson plan. The observing Tutor noted that

“This reflective process helped the student identify the gaps in their performance and the goals they are working towards as part of their broader learning and performance challenges, as well as firmly placing the student in the centre of their own learning, with you taking on the role of facilitator of learning rather than the more traditional deliverer of teaching. Throughout the session you engaged the student in a series of questions to help them get to the essence of what would improve their performance. You employed open questions when asking the student to explore their experience in more general terms and introduced closed questions where you wanted the student to be very clear about the changes they were making.”

​My focus on autonomy and scaffolding learning experiences for learners had, so far, been focused on reducing extraneous talk, refining my ability to ask pertinent and easily digestible questions and committing the learners to an action. Once the balance of power switched from me as ‘lecturer’ and them as ‘passive learner’, which took some convincing and hand-holding for some more than others, to one of

“an environment where the student and I are both practitioners together’’

(Gordon Adams – Lesson Context setting paper 2015)

the results were overwhelmingly positive. The student response is largely engaged simply because they understand what is being asked of them a little more clearly. Assumptions on how, why or for how long things need to be engaged with are dispensed with; I ask them what they have understood about what we have covered, I invite questions that challenge me to redefine everything that felt unclear for them, I ask them to summarise back to me as if I am the learner, then I ask them if they can reproduce what we have done together on their own.

I am much more specific about creating a space for them to tell me what challenges will disrupt that recreation, what will stand in the way of their doing it on their own and how they will effectively deal with those challenges.

Responses to these overly simplified questions were, at first, dismissive and evasive, I think that I seemed patronising and annoyingly interested in committing them to engage, but as the Tutor observing the session said

“the session organically developed along this theme, and you supported the student throughout with enthusiasm, passion and clarity of purpose. It was clear from your exchanges that you had already built a strong level of trust with the student.”

It can seem exhaustingly detailed to constantly repeat what has already been said in a session and most learners have had to adjust to the slower pace of apparent progression in each session, but what they now acknowledge is the ease with which they personally progress individually outside of each session. Singing lessons have had, historically, the feel of an escape from learning. They are a moment of abandon, of play, of non-thought, of expression, sometimes even therapy, but all these things still within the context of learning. I was anxious not to disturb that sense of free experiment by constraining the learners within the confines of some pseudo-corporate commitment pattern, but building relationships of trust has been key to getting them on-board.

It was noted that my Socratic questioning was apparent.

“Through this balance of open and closed questions, you were able to relate the student’s experience to the key techniques and terminology outlined in your lesson plan without making it feel that the session was prescribed in any way. Whilst you appeared to do this with a natural flow and ease, you have clearly put a lot of effort into developing this approach and maintaining the level of responsiveness throughout the session takes a great deal of focus and discipline. At each point where the student tried a new approach, you remained non-judgemental which appeared to help the student to reflect in a genuine way. This pattern of ‘change something – reflect, change something – reflect…’ created a cycle of incremental enhancements in the student’s performance, confidence and knowledge of how subtle physical changes affect not just the voice but importantly the characterisation of the performance.”

“At times where the student asked a question, you provided clear answers but also brought in other questions that they might consider, again shifting the focus from you back to them.” “I particularly thought that the question ‘Did you feel that you lost or gained anything in making that change?’ demonstrated the manner in which you were able to make this an autonomous experience for the student.” “Other effective questioning approaches you employed were to begin a sentence and invite the student to complete it e.g. ‘You want to add a bit of that because…?’ In each case I didn’t get the impression that you were leading the student to the ‘right’ answer but rather towards making a choice about how to continue exploring their learning.”

Tutor feedback drew attention to a shortfall in my lesson plan in the actual level of detail about what occurred in the observed studio sessions. I had initially really struggled to compile a lesson plan document because of the very nature of sessions being so unpredictable and responsive. I hadn’t wanted to expose my teaching as simply reactionary and unplanned, but from a deeper understanding of the benefits of dealing with the reality of what occurs in sessions I now feel more confident in my belief that I work primarily from a carefully synthesised portfolio of approaches, garnered over many years of having working in different art forms.

I have a palette of responses; I mix colours from many different techniques, I apply brush strokes in various styles and ultimately I am working in mixed media, on many differently absorbent surfaces. If this felt unstructured and chaotic when approaching the writing of a lesson plan, it was because, although there are certain key points that need discussion over the three trimesters of a Master’s degree in Musical Theatre I have been uncertain of where to timetable these sessions, depending on the level of an individual’s previous absorption, synthesis and prior knowledge. I have also been firmly of the mind-set that I prefer not to be the brand of singing teacher that decides on a technical or holistic topic for the day and covers it with each and every student, regardless of its efficacy or relevance for the learner.

Previously I had felt anxious about structuring and documenting any one particular session as I wasn’t convinced that I believed topics could be treated as some prescriptive box ticked in curriculum coverage, so while

“it is clear that your teaching context is less rigid and defined than this, [i]n this context you have created an environment where the student can address the challenges they actually face right now with the pieces they are working on” and especially now as the emphasis on autonomy means that the key points are decided on by the learner in consultation with me as their fellow practitioner, it was suggested by the observing Tutor that “[w]hilst it is hard to pre-schedule this experience, you might want to try writing the lesson plan retrospectively to analyse what you actually did in relation to what you said you would in the plan.”

I think it would be useful to write up a lesson plan which describes what I actually did in the session. When I have documented enough of the varied approaches to what is brought into the room, perhaps I will have enough material to publish a book.

Peer feedback from the Voice department saw through the under-evidenced theoretical parts of the lesson plan and past the educational incoherence (in the lack of planning) to the strangely homogeneous nature of what Voice users/lecturers do to elicit response. For me the benefit of peer feedback is that greater working understanding of the actual knowledge-base means that more can be critiqued and commented upon. The last time any peer observation was engaged in, my peer (line manager) was interviewing me for the position I now hold. They weren’t, at that time, my peer, they were my prospective employer and of course now that relationship brings the added worry of the observation being able to either justify or undermine your line manager’s decision to continue giving you work, so I was pleased that my lesson plan delivery, my approach, my focus on autonomy and

“the unfolding of this in practice was extremely evident and clear at all times, resulting in very impressive teaching and highly successful learning. Each identifiable theory was present in your lesson[,] you clearly evidenced a deep understanding of the effectiveness of these theories in practice in a moment; you had complete ownership of these theories and approaches – they belonged utterly and completely to you. [Y]our planning documentation reflected your deep commitment to creating what you considered to be the most appropriate learning environment for this type of learning activity. Your focus on active reflection, positive reinforcement, questioning, guided learning, shared experience, discussion, and more, was wholly appropriate and expertly executed throughout. Every moment in the lesson counted. The relaxed focus was wholly appropriate for the stage of learner (MAMT). The lesson proceeded in what felt like a spontaneous manner, but your level of expertise in the subject specialism is so extraordinarily high, it was clear to me that you were gently guiding the learner towards their next possible moment of understanding.”

I have discovered that within my contract of employment reference is made to the intended on-going peer observation of my work, and I wonder if part of my initial reluctance to allow any peer or tutor observation of my teaching (indeed it was the reason that I withdrew from study when I enrolled on this PgCert course the first time one year ago) comes somewhat from not having had regular observation throughout my tenure. When the time came for this observation to happen this year I was intensely anxious. I felt that I would finally be discovered a fraudulent sham of a teacher and some kind of cretinous charlatan. I didn’t want to be observed. Indeed I feel that being observed changes the very nature of ‘doing’, but I do recognise now the benefit of having done so. I think I can now stop expending energy worrying about whether my practice is ‘up-to-scratch’ or relevant or ‘industry-worthy’. What I can do is focus my energy on delivering easily understandable and ‘easy to replicate’ tasks that build learner confidence so that they feel personal progression. Peer feedback has allowed me to accept that

“[a]t a subject level, the progress the learner made during the session was clear to both parties, understood by both at every step of the way, and instruction given for next time was very clearly focussed (with an invitation to send an interim ‘check-in’ video during the week – an impressive addition, consciously designed to consolidate, extend and enhance learning.)”
Asking learners to email self-recorded video footage and allow tutor follow-up on the tasks set for the week is the greatest implementation of change I can acknowledge through having looked at the current state of my practice. In my journal entries I write that

”with so many scribbled notes each week, and so little time to write them out in full, I have discovered that emailing the learner as quickly as possible after the session actually saves time. Not only does it immediately elicit a response from the learner (still buzzing from all the endorphins released during a singing lesson), they still have the sense of urgency and the drive to engage with whatever we have just collaborated on. They even have time to research and spin off into rich territory that feeds their imagination. They can discover other works that relate to or contrast”

the work that we have just engaged on.

“The longer I leave this email, the more their attention is required elsewhere, the less they feel attached to the learning experience and the further down their list of priorities the task goes. If I fail to send the email altogether, I actually need to put time aside out of the next session to discuss what we have both found and worked on, whereas if the email goes out straightaway, it generates an email conversation over the week that means we are both able to pick it up and put it down at our leisure”.

It’s simple really. I don’t know why I hadn’t tried it before. I think I probably

“resented having to spend such a lot more time working outside of the studio, when I could be driving home to avoid the traffic. Now I find that I send a few before I move onto the next student, I send a few at lunch, I mail quite a few straight after I finish at night, and wait until the traffic has calmed a little, then I’m thinking of all the resources that might help the learner all the way home on the 90 minute commute. It’s brilliant.”

This in turn has made the reflective ability of the learner greater in studio sessions because they already know what they want to bring in, focus on and why. It means that they are taking the reins, but it also means that they are more easy to draw reflection from as it has become a more integrated part of their journey. I’m pleased that this was a success of the observed session and noted in Peer feedback…

“By asking the learner to spontaneously feedback on a task, you as a teacher are demonstrating personal confidence, but also confidence in the learner, empowering
them to appropriately self-reflect and evaluate for themselves. You listened patiently
and intently to the response on every occasion, and used questioning to illicit further
and deeper learning. You guided the learner towards finding for themselves their own
next steps, but of course, the high level of expertise in your subject specialism means
that these questions were very precisely chosen and worded. Feedback was therefore
a balance of learner evaluation, teacher reinforcement of the learner’s feedback, and
teacher feedback. Next steps were very clearly explained and derived from the work
just presented and the evaluative discussion. The lesson was built on the learner’s
response to the work carried out. This was pitched exactly at MA level and was very
impressive. Again, your documentation detailed your aims for this aspect of their
learning experience, and it was clear you knew exactly how to make this happen – you evidenced again your plan to design and deliver a learning activity which ‘fosters an environment where the student and I are both practitioners together.”

Despite the challenges the observed sessions afforded me, and in spite of the change being ‘watched’ causes, I learned to believe more in the delivery of the process I’ve constructed. The Peer and Tutor feedback has highlighted the need to be more theoretically sound and I agree with needing to document that. The greatest learning of this experience, for me, though, has been to believe in what I do and keep building on the trust between the learners and myself. Continuing to ask questions about what they know, how they will manage a task on their own and how they will overcome hurdles that might challenge their ability to reproduce what they have just done with me seems the simplest way to build autonomous adult artists that create their own path.

a conceptual framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning

In this chapter from Self-Direction in Adult Learning (1991), Ralph G. Brockett and Roger Hiemstra argue that self-direction in learning refers to two distinct but related dimensions: as an instructional process where a learner assumes primary responsibility for the learning process; and as a personality characteristic centering on a learner’s desire or preference for assuming responsibility for learning.

contents: introduction · self direction in adult learning: a misunderstood concept · instructional method or personality characteristic? · self-direction in learning as an umbrella concept · the pro model: a framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning · conclusion

In introducing Self-Direction in Adult Learning: Perspectives on Theory, Research, and Practice Brockett and Hiemstra write as follows:

Few topics, if any, have received more attention in the field of adult education over the past two decades than self-directed learning. Ever since the 1971 publication of Allen Tough’s seminal study, The Adult’s Learning Projects, fascination with self-planned and self-directed learning has led to one of the most extensive and sustained research efforts in the history of the field. During the same time, a host of new programs and practices, such as external degree programs and computer and video technologies, have gained enthusiastic support from many segments of the field. The time seems appropriate for drawing some meaning from all of these theory, research, and practice developments.
Self-Direction in Adult Learning was their attempt ‘to make sense out of this body of knowledge and array of practices that have done so much to shape the current face of adult education in North America and, indeed, throughout much of the world’.

This chapter sets out some key theoretical understandings of the notion.

Ralph G. BrockettRalph G. Brockett is Professor in Adult Education, the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, TN. He holds B.A. and M.Ed. degrees from the University of Toledo and a Ph.D. in Adult Education from Syracuse University where he focussed his doctoral research on self-directed learning and initiated an innovative weekend scholar masters in adult education program. A past President of the Commission of Professors of Adult Education, Brockett has also served professorial roles at Syracuse University and Montana State University. He has published widely, including receiving an annual adult education book award. He also served as senior editor of New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education for a number of years.

Roger HimstraRoger Hiemstra is Professor and Chair, Adult Education, Elmira College. He was inducted into the International Adult and Continuing Education Hall of Fame in 2000. His books include Lifelong Learning (1976), Self-Direction in Adult Learning: Perspectives on Theory, Research, and Practice (1991), Environments for Effective Adult Learning (1991), and Overcoming Resistance to Self-Direction in Learning (1994), and Professional Writing (1994).

links: the full text of the book, plus a range of other useful material can be found on Roger Hiemstra’s website. See, also, the discussion of self-direction in the encyclopedia of informal education

Self-direction in learning is a way of life. This idea, which served as the backdrop for Chapter One, may be self-evident to many readers. Yet, much of what we do as educators of adults runs contrary to this basic idea. The myths presented in Chapter One illustrate some of the ways in which we, as educators, sometimes misunderstand or misuse our roles in a way that may run contrary to this “way of life.” It is our view that much of this misunderstanding and misuse is due, in large part, to confusion that exists relative to what is meant by self-direction in adult learning.

In this chapter, we work to alleviate some of this confusion by providing a conceptual framework that can help to clarify the concept of self-direction relative to the process of adult learning. We begin by looking at various ways in which self-direction and related concepts have been defined. We then offer our own definition of self-direction in adult learning. Finally, we share a conceptual framework that emphasizes distinctions between self-directed learning as an instructional method and learner self-direction as a personality characteristic.

Self direction in adult learning: a misunderstood concept
As with so many of the ideas found within the study and practice of adult education, self-direction in learning is fraught with confusion. This confusion is compounded by the many related concepts that are often used either interchangeably or in a similar way. Examples include self-directed learning, self-planned learning, self teaching, autonomous learning, independent study, and distance education. Yet these terms offer varied, though often subtly different, emphases. To illustrate these differences, several views of self-direction can be compared and contrasted.

An Early View of Self-Education. In the 19th Century, Hosmer (1847) described self-education in the following way: ” The common opinion seems to be that self-education is distinguished by nothing but the manner of its acquisition. It is thought to denote simply acquirements made without a teacher, or at all events without oral instruction–advantages always comprehended in the ordinary cause of education. But this merely negative circumstance, however important, . . . is only one of several particulars equally characteristic of self-education . . . . Besides the absence of many, or all of the usual facilities for learning, there are at least three things peculiar to this enterprise, namely: the longer time required, the wider range of studies, and the higher character of its object.” (p. 42)

A Lifelong Learning Perspective. It is important to think of self-direction in learning from a lifelong learning perspective. Lifelong learning, as will be noted in Chapter Eight, is not the exclusive domain of adult educators; it refers to learning that takes place across the entire lifespan. This view is supported by Kidd (1973) in the following passage: “It has often been said that the purpose of adult education, or of any kind of education, is to make the subject a continuing, ‘inner-directed’ self-operating learner.” (p. 47)

Another way of looking at self-directed learning has been provided by Mocker and Spear (1982). Using a 2 X 2 matrix, based on learner vs. institution control over the objectives (purposes) and means (processes) of learning, Mocker and Spear identify four categories comprising lifelong learning: formal, where “learners have no control over the objectives or means of their learning;” nonformal, where “learners control the objectives but not the means;” informal, where “learners control the means but not the objectives;” and self-directed, where “learners control both the objectives and the means” (1982, p. 4).

Self-Directed Learning and Schooling. Looking at self-direction as it relates to schooling for young people, Della-Dora and Blanchard (1979) offer the following view: ” Self-directed learning refers to characteristics of schooling which should distinguish education in a democratic society from school in autocratic societies.” (p. 1)

However, in describing the nature of self-education, Gibbons and Phillips (1982) offer a different view of self-education and schooling: ” Self-education occurs outside of formal institutions, not inside them. The skills can be taught and practiced in schools, teachers can gradually transfer the authority and responsibility for self-direction to students, and self-educational acts can be simulated, but self-education can only truly occur when people are not compelled to learn and others are not compelled to teach them–especially not to teach them a particular subject-matter curriculum. While schools can prepare students for a life of self-education, true self-education can only occur when a person chooses to learn what he can also decide not to learn.” (p. 69)

This second view reinforces the idea of learning as a lifelong process. Though the focus of this book is on self-direction in learning during adulthood, it is important to recognize that self-direction is not restricted solely to learning in the adult years.

A Learning Process Perspective. Self-direction in adulthood has often been described as a learning process, with specific phases, in which the learner assumes primary control. Tough (1979), for instance, has emphasized the concept of self-planned learning. His research was concerned with a specific portion of the process: the “planning and deciding” aspects of learning.

Using the related concept of the “autonomous learner,” Moore (1980) has described such an individual as one who can do the following: “Identify his learning need when he finds a problem to be solved, a skill to be acquired, or information to be obtained. He is able to articulate his need in the form of a general goal, differentiate that goal into several specific objectives, and define fairly explicitly his criteria for successful achievement. In implementing his need, he gathers the information he desires, collects ideas, practices skills, works to resolve his problems, and achieves his goals. In evaluating, the learner judges the appropriateness of newly acquired skills, the adequacy of his solutions, and the quality of his new ideas and knowledge.” (p. 23)

Still another view of self-direction that stresses the phases of a learning process has been offered by Knowles (1975). His view has been perhaps the most frequently used in the adult education literature to date: “In its broadest meaning, ‘self-directed learning’ describes a process in which individuals take the initiative, with or without the help of others, in diagnosing their learning needs, formulating learning goals, identifying human and material resources for learning, choosing and implementing appropriate learning strategies, and evaluating learning outcomes.” (p. 18)

An Evolving Perspective. Not only do individuals differ in their views of self-direction in learning, but each individual’s view is likely to change over time. Thus, when considering definitions, it is not only necessary to understand who has offered a particular definition, but when it was offered. This evolutionary process can be illustrated through the writings of Stephen Brookfield. For example, in 1980, Brookfield used the term “independent adult learning” to describe a process that takes place in situations “when the decisions about intermediate and terminal learning goals to be pursued, rate of student progress, evaluative procedures to be employed, and sources of material to be consulted are in the hands of the learner” (1980, p. 3).

Subsequently, as Brookfield began to contribute his ideas about self-direction to the North American adult education literature, the term “self-directed learning” started to appear in his writing. In using this term, Brookfield (1984c) noted the need to recognize differences between “learning” and “education.” Citing various authors who had addressed this distinction (e.g., Jensen, 1960; Verner, 1964; Little, 1979; and Boshier, 1983), Brookfield noted that learning has been used alternately to describe “an internal change in consciousness . . . an alteration in the state of the central nervous system” as well as “a range of activities . . . . equivalent to the act of learning” (p. 61). In this view, the former is used interchangeably with learning while the latter is used in a way similar to education.

Most recently, Brookfield (1988) has expressed this concern about semantic ambiguity to the extent that instead of using the term “self-directed learning,” he is “reverting to talking about the complex phenomenon of learning (as an internal change of consciousness) and making a distinction between this phenomenon and the educational setting or mode in which such learning occurs” (p. 16). While some may disparage writers who make such drastic changes in stance over time, we applaud Brookfield’s effort since, although we do not agree with his recent view that the adult education field should abandon its enthusiasm for the concept of self-directed learning, Brookfield demonstrates a willingness to accommodate new insights and information and to modify his position accordingly. Indeed, the conceptual framework presented later in this chapter reflects the evolution of own thinking about self-direction over the past several years.

Instructional method or personality characteristic?
As has been noted earlier, most efforts to understand self-direction in learning to date have centered on the notion of an instructional process in which the learner assumes a primary role in planning, implementing, and evaluating the experience. Yet, this view becomes weakened when considered in relation to semantic and conceptual concerns such as those raised by Brookfield. One of the first authors to address the confusion over the meaning of self-directed learning was Kasworm (1983), who stated that self-directed learning can be viewed as a “set of generic, finite behaviors; as a belief system reflecting and evolving from a process of self-initiated learning activity; or as an ideal state of the mature self-actualized learner” (p. 1). At about the same time, Chene (1983) addressed the concept of autonomy, which she largely equated with self-directed learning. In this article, Chene distinguished between two meanings of autonomy, where one view is psychological and the other “is related to a methodology which either assumes that the learner is autonomous or aims at achieving autonomy through training” (p. 40).

Clearly, the concern over what is meant by self-directed learning is a relevant one. Take, for example, the researcher who is interested in studying self-directedness as an internal change process, but who operationalizes self-directed learning as an instructional process. While there are definite similarities between the two concepts, the ideas are not the same. In fact, as will be noted in Chapter Four, this has been a problem in much of the research on self-direction conducted to date.

During a period of about one year, three authors tried to clarify the meaning of self-directed learning. Brookfield (1984c), as was noted earlier, used an argument presented by Boshier (1983) to point out that ambiguity of the term self-directed learning might be linked to confusion between learning (an internal change process) and education (a process for managing external conditions that facilitate this internal change). In this view, the term “self-directed learning” might best be reserved for the former while the latter would actually be viewed as “self-directed education.”

At about the same time, Fellenz (1985) made a distinction between self-direction as a learning process and as an aspect of personal development. According to Fellenz, self-direction can be viewed in one of two ways: “. . . either as a role adopted during the process of learning or as a psychological state attained by an individual in personal development. Both factors can be viewed as developed abilities and, hence, analyzed both as to how they are learned and how they affect self-directed learning efforts.” (1985, p. 164)

In building the link between self-direction and personal development, Fellenz draws from such concepts as inner-directedness (Riesman, 1950), self-actualization (Maslow, 1954), locus of control (Rotter, 1966), autonomy (Erikson, 1964), and field independence (Witkin, Oltman, Raskin, & Karp, 1971).

A third effort to clarify the concept of self-direction was made by Oddi (1984, 1985), who reported the development of a new instrument designed to identify what she refers to as “self-directed continuing learners.” The Oddi Continuing Learning Inventory (OCLI), a 24-item Likert scale, grew out of Oddi’s concern over the lack of a theoretical foundation for understanding personality characteristics of self-directed continuing learners. The development of this instrument, which will be discussed more fully in Chapter Four, was an outgrowth of the need to distinguish between personality characteristics of self-directed learners and the notion of self-directed learning as “a process of self-instruction” (Oddi, 1985, p.230). This distinction is not unlike the one made by Chene (1983) relative to the concept of autonomy.

In a subsequent article, Oddi (1987) distinguished between the “process perspective” and the “personality perspective” relative to self-directed learning, suggesting that the process perspective has been the most predominant in discussions of research and practice to date. As will be shown later in this chapter, this distinction between process and personality perspectives lies at the heart of the model we will present.

Finally, Candy (1988) has offered further support for a distinction between concepts. In a critical analysis of the term “self-direction” through a review of literature and synthesis of research findings, Candy concluded that self-direction has been used “(i) as a personal quality or attribute (personal autonomy); (ii) as the independent pursuit of learning outside formal instructional settings (autodidaxy); and (iii) as a way of organizing instruction (learner-control)” (p. 1033-A). Thus, Candy is essentially taking the distinction even further by differentiating between the learning process taking place both within and outside of the institutional setting.

Clearly, the concept of self-directed learning has undergone close scrutiny over the past several years. What has emerged is an important distinction between the process of self-directed learning and the notion of self-direction as a personality construct. This distinction needs careful consideration if we are to move ahead with the study and practice of the phenomenon.

Self-direction in learning as an umbrella concept
As we have noted, the idea of self-directed learning has undergone considerable evolution over the past several years. Indeed, this evolution can sometimes be seen in the case of a single author, as has been the case with Brookfield. It can also be seen in the subtle changes resulting from the research of many individuals over several years. Like Brookfield’s, our own notions of self-directed learning have evolved over time. The following two definitions are indicative of our earlier thinking about the concept: ” Self-planned learning-A learning activity that is self-directed, self-initiated, and frequently carried out alone. (Hiemstra, 1976a, p. 39) And “Broadly defined, self-directed learning refers to activities where primary responsibility for planning, carrying out, and evaluating a learning endeavor is assumed by the individual learner.” (Brockett, 1983b, p. 16)

Unlike Brookfield, however, instead of advocating movement away from the concept, we embrace the view that what is needed is to expand the concept and to encourage its continued development as a central theme in the field of adult education. However, it is our belief that in doing this, we need to move away from overemphasis on the term “self-directed learning.” Instead, given the confusion over self-directed learning as instructional method versus personality characteristic, we suggest that the term self-direction in learning can provide the breadth needed to more fully reflect current understanding of the concept.

In our view, self-direction in learning refers to two distinct but related dimensions. The first of these dimensions is a process in which a learner assumes primary responsibility for planning, implementing, and evaluating the learning process. An education agent or resource often plays a facilitating role in this process. This is the notion of self-directed learning as it has generally been used identified in the professional literature. The second dimension, which we refer to as learner self-direction, centers on a learner’s desire or preference for assuming responsibility for learning. This is the personality aspect discussed earlier. Thus, self-direction in learning refers to both the external characteristics of an instructional process and the internal characteristics of the learner, where the individual assumes primary responsibility for a learning experience. The remainder of this chapter will center on discussion of a model designed to further clarify this definition.

The PRO model: a framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning
If the idea of self-direction in learning is viewed as comprising both instructional method processes (self-directed learning) and personality characteristics of the individual (learner self-direction), it is important to consider how these two dimensions are related. As a way of illustrating this relationship, we propose a model that distinguishes between these two dimensions while at the same time, recognizing that the two dimensions are inextricably linked to a broader view of self-direction. This model, which we refer to as the “Personal Responsibility Orientation” (PRO) model of self-direction in adult learning is designed to recognize both the differences and similarities between self-directed learning as an instructional method and learner self-direction as a personality characteristic. The model is not only intended to serve as a way of better understanding self-direction, it can also serve as a framework for building future theory, research, and practice. The major components of the PRO model, illustrated in Figure 2.1, are outlined below.

Figure 2.1: The “Personal Responsibility Orientation” (PRO) Model

Personal Responsibility as a Central Concept. As can be seen in Figure 2.1, the point of departure for understanding self-direction in adult learning, according to the PRO model, is the notion of personal responsibility. By personal responsibility we mean that individuals assume ownership for their own thoughts and actions. Personal responsibility does not necessarily mean control over personal life circumstances or environment. However, it does mean that a person has control over how to respond to a situation. As summarized by Elias and Merriam (1980), behavior “is the consequence of human choice which individuals can freely exercise” (p. 118). For instance, oppressed people typically lack control over their social environment; however, they can choose how they will respond to the environment. They can resign themselves to accepting the status quo or they can choose to act in a way designed to alter the current situation. In the latter case, while the outcome may not always be what is desired, the decision to act in a certain way reflects a choice not to willingly accept “the way things are.” Within the context of learning, it is the ability and/or willingness of individuals to take control of their own learning that determines their potential for self-direction.

Drawing largely on assumptions of humanistic philosophy, we base this emphasis on personal responsibility on two ideas. First, we embrace the view that human nature is basically good and that individuals possess virtually unlimited potential for growth. Second, we believe that only by accepting responsibility for one’s own learning is it possible to take a proactive approach to the learning process. These assumptions imply a great deal of faith and trust in the learner and, thus, offer a foundation for the notion of personal responsibility relative to learning.

Perhaps another way of understanding what we mean by personal responsibility can be found in the idea of autonomy, as discussed by Chene, who provides the following perspective: “Autonomy means that one can and does set one’s own rules, and can choose for oneself the norms one will respect. In other words, autonomy refers to one’s ability to choose what has value, that is to say, to make choices in harmony with self-realization.” (1983, p. 39)

Autonomy, as defined above, assumes that one will take personal responsibility, because one is independent “from all exterior regulations and constraints” (Chene, 1983, p. 39).

While we envision personal responsibility as the cornerstone of self-direction in learning, it is important to stress three related points. First, while we emphasize our commitment to the view that human potential is unlimited, we believe that each individual assumes some degree of personal responsibility. It is not an either/or characteristic. Thus, adult learners will possess different degrees of willingness to accept responsibility for themselves as learners. As was noted in the last chapter, it is a misconception to assume that learners necessarily enter a learning experience with a high level of self-direction already intact. Self-direction is not a panacea for all problems associated with adult learning. Nor is it always necessary for one to be highly self-directed in order to be a successful learner. However, if being able to assume greater control for one’s destiny is a desirable goal of adult education (and we believe it is!), then a role for educators of adults is to help learners become increasingly able to assume personal responsibility for their own learning.

Second, the emphasis on personal responsibility as the cornerstone of self-direction in learning implies that the primary focus of the learning process is on the individual, as opposed to the larger society. Yet, accepting responsibility for one’s actions as a learner does not ignore the social context in which the learning takes place. Such a view would be extremely short sighted. What personal responsibility does mean, however, is that the point of departure for understanding learning lies within the individual. Once this individual dimension is recognized, it is then important to examine the social dimensions that impact upon the learning process. And related to this point is a belief that one who assumes personal responsibility as an individual is in a stronger position to also be more socially responsible.

Finally, it is important to point out that in taking responsibility for one’s thoughts and actions, one also assumes responsibility for the consequences of those actions. As Rogers (1961, p. 171) has stated, to be “self-directing means that one chooses–and then learns from the consequences.” Within the context of adult education, Day (1988) has used fictional literature to illustrate this point. Drawing from the works Oedipus Rex, Martin Eden, Pygmalion, and Educating Rita, Day argues that adults are “decision-making beings” who are “ultimately responsible” for the decisions they make, that the “results of our learning experiences may as likely lead to discontent as to a state of well-being,” and that in general “learning produces consequences” (p. 125).

In conclusion, the notion of personal responsibility, as we are using it in the PRO model, means that learners have choices about the directions they pursue as learners. Along with this goes a responsibility for accepting the consequences of one’s thoughts and actions as a learner. The idea of personal responsibility will be further developed throughout the book, particularly in Chapter Seven, where the theoretical underpinnings of learner self-direction are explored.

Self-Directed Learning: The Process Orientation. Self-directed learning, as we have come to view the term, refers to an instructional method. It is a process that centers on the activities of planning, implementing, and evaluating learning. Most of the writings and research on self-directed and self-planned learning from the early and mid-1970s were developed from this perspective (e.g., Knowles, 1975; Tough, 1979). Similarly, the definitions of self-directed learning that we have used previously (Hiemstra, 1976a; Brockett, 1983a) stress this process orientation. Further, one of us (Hiemstra, 1988a; Hiemstra & Sisco, 1990) has described this as individualizing the teaching and learning process.

The process orientation of self-direction in adult learning focuses on characteristics of the teaching-learning transaction. Thus, when considering this aspect of self-direction, concern revolves around factors external to the individual. Needs assessment, evaluation, learning resources, facilitator roles and skills, and independent study are a few of the concepts that fall within the domain of the self-directed learning process. The illustrations compiled in recent books by Knowles and Associates (1984) and Brookfield (1985) exemplify this concept of self-directed learning as an instructional process in such areas as human resource development, continuing professional education, graduate and undergraduate study, and community education. Given the distinction between learning and education made earlier in the chapter, some readers may wish to think of this process orientation as “self-directed education.” We do not disagree with this term, but choose to refer to the process as “self-directed learning” in order to stress the link to the foundation laid by Knowles. Chapter Six offers a closer look at the process orientation of self-directed learning.

Learner Self-Direction: The Personal Orientation. While most of the work that has been seminal to the foundation of self-direction in learning has focused on the process orientation described above, the importance of understanding characteristics of successful self-directed learners has generally been stressed as well. For instance, Knowles (1970) identified several assumptions underlying the concept of andragogy as a model for helping adults learn. The first of these assumptions was that the self-concept of adult learners is characterized by self-direction, whereas dependence characterizes the self-concept of the child. Knowles (1980) later revised his view of pedagogy and andragogy from a dichotomy to a continuum. However, his emphasis on self-concept reflects the centrality of personality as an element of self- direction in learning. This emphasis on personality characteristics of the learner, or factors internal to the individual, is what we refer to as the “personal orientation” or learner self-direction.

Thus, in our view, learner self-direction refers to characteristics of an individual that predispose one toward taking primary responsibility for personal learning endeavors. Conceptually, the notion of learner self-direction grows largely from ideas addressed by Rogers (1961, 1983), Maslow (1970), and other writers from the area of humanistic psychology. Evidence of this personal orientation can be found in much of the research on self-direction in adult learning since the late 1970s. For instance, self-directedness has been studied in relation to such variables as creativity (Torrance & Mourad, 1978), self-concept (Sabbaghian, 1980), life satisfaction (Brockett 1983c, 1985a), intellectual development (Shaw, 1987), and hemisphericity (Blackwood, 1988). Learner self-direction is discussed further in Chapter Seven.

Self-Direction in Learning: The Vital Link. As we pointed out earlier, self-direction in learning is a term that we use as an umbrella concept to recognize both external factors that facilitate the learner taking primary responsibility for planning, implementing, and evaluating learning, and internal factors or personality characteristics that predispose one toward accepting responsibility for one’s thoughts and actions as a learner. The PRO model illustrates this distinction between external and internal forces. At the same time it recognizes, through the notion of personal responsibility, that there is a strong connection between self-directed learning and learner self-direction. This connection provides a key to understanding the success of self-direction in a given learning context.

It was noted in Chapter One that one of the myths related to self-direction in learning is that it is an “all-or-nothing” characteristic. In our view, both the internal and external aspects of self-direction can be viewed on a continuum. Thus, a given learning situation will fit somewhere within a range relative to opportunity for self-directed learning and, similarly, an individual’s level of self-directedness will fall somewhere within a range of possible levels. Related to this view of self-direction as a continuum is our belief that it is a mistake to consider high self-direction as ideal in all learning situations. As we have noted previously, because of “the great diversity that exists both in learning styles and in reasons for learning, it is extremely shortsighted to advance” the view that self-direction is the best way to learn and that instead, it is more desirable to think of self-direction as “an ideal mode of learning for certain individuals and for certain situations” (Brockett & Hiemstra, 1985, p. 33). It is this point that serves to link the concepts of self-directed learning and learner self-direction.

We suggest that optimal conditions for learning result when there is a balance or congruence between the learner’s level of self-direction and the extent to which opportunity for self-directed learning is possible in a given situation. If, for example, one is predisposed toward a high level of self-directedness and is engaged in a learning experience where self-direction is actively facilitated, chances for success are high. Similarly, the learner who is not as high in self-directedness is likely to find comfort and, in all likelihood, a greater chance of success in a situation where the instructor assumes a more directive role. In both instances, the chances for success are relatively high, since the learner’s expectations are congruent with the conditions of the learning situation.

Where difficulties and frustrations arise is when the balance between internal characteristics of the learner are not in harmony with external characteristics of the teaching-learning transaction. Individuals who enter a learning situation with a clear idea of how and what they wish to learn are likely to become frustrated and disenchanted if not given the freedom to pursue these directions. In the same vein, the learner who seeks a high level of guidance and direction will probably have similar feelings in a situation where the facilitator emphasizes an active leadership role by the learners. For individuals in either situation, the problem is that the teaching-learning situation is not in harmony with the needs and desires the learner brought to the situation. This does not mean that the learner was “unsuccessful,” nor that the facilitator was “ineffective.” Rather, it suggests that success and effectiveness are relative terms that depend on clear communication of needs and expectations among all parties engaged in the teaching-learning transaction.

The notion of learner self-direction, as an element of the PRO model, suggests a general tendency that exists to a greater or lesser degree in all learners. However, it is important to recognize that situational factors are often likely to impact on the type of instructional method a learner will seek. An adult who seeks to learn about current trends in real estate, for example, may be willing to relinquish control over the learning situation to the session leader for reasons of expedience or because of a personal lack of knowledge and experience in the real estate area. This does not diminish the learner’s level of self-direction; indeed, the decision to relinquish a degree of control was consciously made by the learner.

Several years ago, the first author attended a research conference where participants met to exchange information and ideas based on current research. The format for this conference, as is often the case for research conferences, was a series of paper sessions and symposia consisting of formal presentations followed by questions and discussions from the audience. In one symposium, the first presenter began by discussing some of the research trends in the topical area under consideration. However, about 20 minutes later, the second presenter began his portion of the symposium by asking participants to move their chairs into a circle so that it would be easier to “share ideas.” At least half of the group exercised a degree of self-direction by immediately leaving the room.

The above examples have been presented to illustrate two points. First, self-directed learning–the method that the second presenter was trying to implement–is not inherently the best method for adult learning. Although we believe that self-directed learning situations will most often be compatible with the needs, desires, and capabilities of adult learners, there are times when a highly teacher-directed approach will prove most effective and, indeed, will be expected and even demanded.

Second, when considering the fit between self-directed learning and learner self-direction, it is important to keep in mind that the congruence between these dimensions may at times be mitigated by factors such as the expectations of the learners. That symposium presenter must certainly have felt a degree of frustration and perhaps hurt as half of the audience walked out on his efforts to create a climate that most likely had served him very well in other settings. However, it is likely that the lack of congruence between his approach and the context in which the learning situation was taking place led to the exodus of so many participants. This brings us to a final element of the PRO model, which is a consideration of the social context in which self-direction in learning exists.

The Social Context for Self-Direction in Learning. The final element of the PRO model is represented by the circle encompassing the other elements. One of the most frequent criticisms of self-direction in learning has been an overemphasis on the individual, which is usually accompanied a failure to consider the social context in which learning takes place. Brookfield (1984c), for example, has suggested that by “concentrating attention on the features of individual learner control over the planning, conduct and evaluation of learning, the importance of learning networks and informal learning exchanges has been forgotten” (p. 67). In the PRO model, the individual learner is, in fact, central to the idea of self-direction. However, such learning activities cannot be divorced from the social context in which they occur. This point is further reinforced through discussions on the role of institutions in Chapter Eight and policy issues in Chapter Nine. We agree with Brookfield that social context is vital to understanding self-direction and that, to date, this concern has largely been overlooked. Brookfield’s (1981) own research, in which he found that “independent adult learners” often function as a “fellowship of learning” is a noteworthy exception to this gap in knowledge. One of the myths of self-direction identified in Chapter One is that such learning takes place in isolation. In order to truly understand the impact of self-direction, both as an instructional method and as a personality characteristic, it is crucial to recognize the social milieu in which such activity transpires.

Related to the social context are the political implications of self-direction in learning. Again, Brookfield (1984c) has helped to raise consciousness about the politics of self-direction. This, in turn, triggered the following response: “Brookfield’s comments are most insightful, for they force us to ponder the real consequences of situations where learners are truly in control of their learning. . . . many individuals, especially those who can be considered “hard-to-reach”, may believe that formal educational settings can reinforce conformity while stifling creativity. For such persons, institutions may be perceived as antithetical to the self-directed learning process. On a larger scale, these issues are amplified in situations where individuals view themselves as powerless in determining the direction of their lives. What are the potential consequences. . . of promoting self-direction in societies where individual human rights may be in question? Clearly, the issue of control is a crucial one because, ultimately, it must move beyond the individual dimension into the social and political arenas.” (Brockett, 1985c, p. 58)

Thus, while the individual is the “starting point” for understanding self-direction in adult learning, the social context provides the arena in which the activity of self-direction is played out. In order for us to truly understand the phenomenon of self-direction in adult learning, it will be crucial to recognize and deal with the interface between these individual and social dimensions. Chapters Eight and Ten address the social context from institutional and cross-cultural perspectives, respectively.

Conclusion
In this chapter, we have attempted to alleviate some of the confusion surrounding the meaning of self-direction and related concepts. By proposing the Personal Responsibility Orientation model, we are suggesting that in order to understand the complexity of self-direction in adult learning, it is essential to recognize differences between self-directed learning as an instructional method and learner self-direction as a personality characteristic. These two dimensions are linked through the recognition that each emphasizes the importance of learners assuming personal responsibility for their thoughts and actions. Finally, the PRO model is designed to advance understanding of self-direction by recognizing the vital role played by the social context in which learning takes place. Moving to a critical examination of research on self-direction in the next two chapters, the remainder of the book is designed to further illuminate the ideas expressed in the PRO model.

Full details of the references can be found at: http://home.twcny.rr.com/hiemstra/sdilbib.html.

To cite this chapter: Brockett, R. G. and Hiemstra, R. (1991) ‘A conceptual framework for understanding self-direction in adult learning’ in Self-Direction in Adult Learning: Perspectives on Theory, Research, and Practice, London and New York: Routledge. Reproduced in the informal education archives: http://www.infed.org/archives/e-texts/hiemstra_self_direction.htm