Learning through apprenticeship

During the last 20 years there has been a renewed interest in apprenticeship approaches to learning. Studying the apprenticeship of Vai and Gola tailors in Liberia, Lave and Wenger (Reference LAVE and WENGER1991) were stimulated to inquire,

Drawing on various studies, they argue that apprenticeship is more than simply ‘learning by doing’; rather, learning is seen as a concomitant of ‘legitimate peripheral participation’ in social practices. In Lave and Wenger's analysis, the activities of ‘communities of practice’ (groups of people who act together with the intention of achieving some declared or undeclared aim) constitute the primary, generative phenomenon and learning is one of its characteristics. Thus learning is not seen as a product of an individual mind, but is gained through the involvement of the whole person and is shaped by the whole community of practice. Lave and Wenger (1991: 85) suggest that there might be a contrast between their notions of learning and those that underpin contemporary Western notions of schooling when they say, ‘Becoming a “member such as those” [i.e. a successful apprentice] is an embodied telos too complex to be discussed in the narrower and simpler language of goals, tasks and knowledge acquisition’.

The concept of apprenticeship has been discussed in the field of teacher education. Brown and McIntyre (Reference BROWN and MCINTYRE1993: 12) say, ‘Experienced teachers are analogous to ‘master craftsmen’ . . . in school-based components of their pre-service education, student-teachers should learn through gaining access to the ‘craft knowledge’ of experienced teachers’. Using Lortie's (1975) notion that ‘craft is work in which experience improves performance’ and that complex craft skills ‘cannot be learned in weeks or even months’, Brown and McIntyre report on 16 cases of expert Primary and Secondary teachers. From these case studies they develop a model in which teaching is seen as undertaking routine actions in pursuit of two types of goal: (a) gaining and maintaining ‘normal desirable states of pupil activity’ and (b) achieving pupil progress. Brown and McIntyre (Reference BROWN and MCINTYRE1993: 107) argue that, in pursuit of these goals, teachers do not reflect on alternative forms of action. Rather, ‘Experienced teachers’ effectiveness was dependent on a fluency of action which would be possible only if the action was spontaneous, largely automatic, and based on only very limited conscious examination of available options’.

When learning to teach is viewed as an apprenticeship, the prime means for learning is through practical experiences of teaching under the direction of the mentor, who provides advice and acts as a role model. Smith and Alred (1993: 109) see mentoring in these terms, with the personal qualities of the mentor as paramount. The mentor offers ‘a model of what the trainee might some day become’, not simply, ‘a model of the professional teacher’ but a specific, able and inspiring individual, who might be ‘warm, amusing, ironic, in love with their subject, respectful of their pupils’. Similarly, Van Manen (Reference TOMLINSON1995) suggests that learning to teach is a matter of acquiring a type of knowledge that, following the 19th century German philosopher, Herbart, he calls ‘pedagogical tact’. Acquiring pedagogical tact, understood as, ‘a form of practical knowledge that . . . becomes real in the very act of teaching’ (Van Manen, Reference TOMLINSON1995: 45), teachers act from a morally principled position which is understood by ‘the whole embodied being of the person’ (Van Manen, Reference TOMLINSON1995: 36). Hence,

Learning by reflecting

People who see teaching in terms other than a skilful craft, sometimes describe it as a matter of ‘professional artistry’ (Fish, Reference FISH1995). They agree that there are craft-like, relatively routine aspects to teaching, but argue that these are not the most important. Rather, the ‘problems of greatest human concern’ are ‘incapable of technical solution’ (Schön, Reference PERSSON1983). Learning to teach is therefore a matter of developing the ability to interpret situations wisely (Elliott, Reference ELLIOTT1993) by reflecting, understood as, ‘active, persistent, and careful consideration of any belief or supposed form of knowledge in the light of the grounds that support it and the further conclusions to which it tends' (Dewey, Reference DEWEY1933: 118).

There are various views about what reflection is, and how it is achieved. For Dewey (Reference DEWEY1933) reflection can change ‘a perplexed, troubled or confused situation’ to ‘a cleaned up, unified, resolved situation’. He posits five aspects of reflective thought which include intellectualising (which changes felt perplexity into a solvable problem), generating suggestions or hypotheses, elaborating one or more hypotheses (e.g. reasoning about possible consequences) and testing one or more hypotheses through action (Dewey, Reference DEWEY1933: 199–209). Schön (Reference PERSSON1983) makes an important distinction between reflection-in-action, which is a matter of thoughtful experimentation whilst performing actions (he gives an example of jazz musicians improvising), and reflection-on-action, which is retrospective. Elliott (Reference ELLIOTT1991: 53) argues that, through reflection on experience (i.e. reflection-on-action), teachers form a stock of ‘cases’ which are used to understand new situations. ‘Practical wisdom’, he writes, ‘is stored in the mind . . . as a reflectively processed repertoire of cases . . . which are primarily utilised in attempts to understand current circumstances'. Zeichner and Liston (Reference VAN MANEN1996) distinguish five traditions of reflection, each defined by the general orientation of its content. Reflection can be oriented towards subject matter, or it can have to do with putting educational theory into practice, or it emphasises the development of the learners, or issues of justice and democracy. There is also a tradition which sees reflection as an end in itself. Although Zeichner and Liston (Reference VAN MANEN1996) reject the last mentioned, they see the others as being fruitful ways of framing the reflective process, which is essentially a matter of relating teaching to different types of aims which are generated by the world outside the classroom.

Several writers explore the notion of levels in reflection. For Handal and Lauvas (Reference HANDAL and LAUVAS1987) reflection about actions is relatively superficial, whereas reflecting on the reasons for these actions occurs at a deeper level and reflecting on the values that underpin these reasons (the ethical or political justifications) is deeper still. For Korthagen and Vasalos (Reference KORTHAGEN and VASALOS2005) levels of reflection are likened to the layers of an onion: reflection about behaviours is at the outer edge and, progressing inwards, deeper reflection concerns matters of competences, beliefs, identity and mission. For many authors, the practice of counselling is an appropriate model for mentors to encourage reflection (Handal & Lauvas, Reference HANDAL and LAUVAS1987; Shaw, Reference SCHÖN1992; Martin, Reference LORTIE1995; Tomlinson, 1995). This involves not giving advice, but helping trainees to find their own way forward by clarifying problems and exploring underlying causes and possible solutions. Martin (1995: 9) suggests that mentoring sessions can ‘enable the student to reflect deeply on their experience of teaching, and to arrive largely at their own conclusions’. Korthagen and Vasalos (Reference KORTHAGEN and VASALOS2005) make a sharp distinction between mentoring, which involves professional development, and counselling, which has a therapeutic purpose. They nevertheless present reflection as an inward journey, particularly in the case of ‘core reflection’ which happens when a trainee has a problem which cannot be solved simply. In such cases they suggest that trainees be encouraged by their mentors to examine specific, problematic events in order to articulate how they would like things to be. They then examine the limiting factors in themselves which prevent this ideal from being realised. Using the ‘onion’ model of reflection, the mentor encourages the trainee to realise that s/he possesses, at a deep level, certain ‘core qualities’ that can be brought to bear on the situation. Examples include empathy, flexibility, sensitivity and courage, precise qualities varying according to the individual. Finally, trainees are helped to activate their core qualities in order to plan new, improved behaviours.

In summary, the theoretical concepts of apprenticeship and reflection provide different perspectives on learning to teach. Although different writers understand the concepts in different ways, the differences between them outweigh areas of overlap. In the apprenticeship concept, teachers possess know-how and trainees learn by participating in teaching, by emulating teachers and by acting on their advice; the emphasis is on the whole person fitting into the teaching community. In the reflection concept trainees think through issues themselves, mentors prompting them to think deeply and/or adopt wider perspectives. The emphasis is more on the development of the individual mind.

Music mentoring

Music education has a long tradition of learning through apprenticeship for, especially in the conservatoire tradition, learners are taught by an expert player or singer, often in a master–apprentice relationship (Hays et al., Reference HAYS, MINICHIELLO and WRIGHT2000). In schools, the teacher in charge of music has been seen as ‘director’ of music, conducting choirs, orchestras and classroom activities (Swanwick, Reference STRAND1979; Paynter, Reference OFMAN1982). The language of ‘direction’ implies a submissive attitude on the part of the learners and so does not encourage reflection. But recent curriculum development recognises the need for learners to reflect; for example, the current English National Curriculum for music speaks of developing pupils’ ability to ‘discriminate, think critically and make connections between different areas of knowledge’ (DfEE/QCA, 1999).

There is little empirical research into mentoring in music. However, Persson (Reference PAYNTER2000: 25) suggests that musical maestros, who tend to comprise the teaching staff in conservatoires, ‘may at times be unsuitable teachers and mentors’. This is because, ‘It is not in the tradition of the maestro . . . to qualify or defend decisions or instructions. The conservatory culture is highly authoritarian’ (ibid.: 34). Conway (Reference CONWAY and Conway2003: 75) – in an interview study of 13 American beginning music teachers – found that the most common themes, discussed in mentoring meetings, were to do with ‘budgets, fund-raising, tours, weekend events and other duties’. Classroom management issues were also raised frequently, although ‘Very few of the beginning teachers said that they spoke to mentors about curricular issues’ (ibid: 77). Conway concludes that the focus of much of the mentoring was on survival rather than development, saying:

‘Mandy’ and ‘Tamsin’ at ‘Rodin Girls’ School’: ‘This is how I would do it’

‘Rodin Girls’ School' is a large comprehensive school on the edge of a medium-sized city. It has a mixed catchment area with girls from both professional and deprived backgrounds. The school has a high percentage of girls with first languages other than English; it also has higher than average examination results. Because it was a training school ‘Mandy’ mentored two PGCE trainees at the same time; I studied her mentoring with ‘Tamsin’.

Mandy was the Head of a two-person department, and had previously taught in two different schools. She had studied at the Royal Academy of Music and had worked as an untrained teacher before training to teach. A first-study singer, she conducted three choirs in her school. She told me, ‘We've got very, very strong extra-curricular activities . . . you can see that we're a good department. We're going out and doing stuff. We've got fantastic results. We've got music going on all the time’. In her interview she was naturally lively and talkative, talking quickly, and using her hands expressively. She said, ‘the secret is to be passionate . . . I'm passionate about music and I like children so that's a bit of a winning combination’. She was ‘still excited’ by teaching music, believing that, ‘All lessons should be fun’ and ‘What I'd like to do the moment they [the pupils] walk in the door is to be giving out, giving them undivided attention’. She saw the process, by which she had learned to teach, as instinctive:

Asked about her own mentors, Mandy described her first Head of Department who was, ‘a very good all-round musician . . . very energetic and very encouraging . . . understanding how to get the best out of people’ in contrast to her second Head of Department who ‘wasn't a good role model’. She described her approach to mentoring as, ‘not dictatorial’, saying, ‘I'm not telling them, “do this” but I am saying, “this is my plan. This is how I would do it”‘. She said she was ‘quite excited’ about mentoring trainees because,

Nevertheless, it appeared that Tamsin's placement had started badly for, although Mandy thought both her trainees ‘understood everything’ they felt they did not know exactly what they were expected to teach. Mandy told me,

After this, things improved for both trainees, as Tamsin explained, ‘We observed [‘Mandy’] and [her colleague] teach the lessons that we were going to teach so that we could nearly copy them word for word. That was what we did most of the time’.

Each mentoring meeting in this study occurred immediately after Tamsin had taught a lesson which Mandy had observed, whilst typing her observation notes on a computer. The focus, at the start of the meeting, was always on this lesson. Mandy offered a lot of advice in these meetings, speaking between 80% and 85% of the words and sometimes continuing, without input from Tamsin, for considerable passages of time. For example,

Some of this advice was illustrated with striking images. For example, Mandy told Tamsin that the pupils should treat the musical instruments, ‘like a new-born baby’ and she pointed out that, ‘If you talk over the top of them, it's like singing a wonderful aria next to a drill’. Although Tamsin listened to this advice, she often responded only by nodding or saying ‘yeah’ and it was not always clear what she thought of it.

Several times, Mandy explained what she did herself, saying, ‘It's worth doing the technical demonstrations like I was doing’, ‘Personally, I would have had a recap session at the end, okay?’ and ‘I would've said, “hold this in your hand”‘. She sometimes demonstrated how she responded to pupils, whispering to check fidgeting, raising her voice to attract attention or just staring to indicate disapproval. She showed Tamsin how she gave instructions, saying, ‘And I say, “Right, the instruction now is put the instruments away. That means absolutely not a sound. Nobody talks. And please, help each other”‘. She also said, ‘you've got to find what works for you’ and humorously admitted that she didn't always follow her own advice, saying, ‘In an ideal world, I think I might have stopped and started them a little bit more. But, having said that, that's in an ideal world . . . I'm not saying I do it’. [Both laughed.]

Mandy recognised that Tamsin would also need to observe other teachers in the school, saying, ‘Watch some good people, you know possibly in PE . . . how do they get silence?’ and, ‘Go and watch [Mrs H] . . .She has massive noise in there. I mean, it would drive me bonkers. But see how she then gets it quiet’. Another feature of Mandy's mentoring was the regular praise of Tamsin. For example,

In her interview Tamsin reported that she had had very few ‘sit down’ meetings with Mandy because, ‘she didn't have time at lunchtimes or after school to sit down and talk . . . so there were only a couple of times that it could've happened’. Instead, she was given Mandy's observation notes and had short discussions whenever there was a problem:

When I asked Tamsin what she contributed to the mentoring meetings, she said,

Asked, ‘what makes a good mentor?’ she said,

Nevertheless she recognised that Mandy's mentoring approach might have drawbacks, saying, ‘She gave me a lot of very good ideas but I have a feeling that I may have to forget about them and relearn’. In conclusion, although she didn't always contribute a great deal to the mentoring meetings, I understood that Tamsin appreciated Mandy's mentoring, and she met the requirements of the placement.

‘Marcus’ and ‘Tracy’ at ‘Northam’ School: a two-way process

‘Northam’ is a large, 11–16, comprehensive school in a leafy suburb of a small town. The school also draws from a more deprived area of the town, particularly from a housing estate. The music department had its own building, with three main teaching rooms, six practice rooms and a recording studio. There were three full-time music teachers, 14 peripatetic teachers, 250 pupils having instrumental lessons in school and 16 extra-curricular ensembles, so Marcus (the mentor and Head of Music) had a lot to do in addition to his mentoring. He played clarinet and saxophone out of school, taught privately and ran sectional rehearsals for the county wind orchestra. He told me that his own music making enhanced his teaching, which he tried to make spontaneous, saying, ‘I prefer doing the things which are more flying by the seat of your pants really. You know, just getting the kids to make music and get a buzz from making music’.

Marcus had mentored seven trainees before Tracy, and described his mentoring style as, ‘sort of light and easy . . . a two-way process . . . a dialogue’. He said that he advised trainees, for instance ‘in the routines that work in this particular establishment . . . to actually establish control within the classroom . . . to find appropriate resources to work with the classes’. In addition, ‘they need to have some understanding of the broader picture of the responsibilities because it's quite awesome really, everything that's demanded’. He also said, ‘I personally find it quite hard to challenge the students . . . it's this tension between working with them as a colleague and working over them, as it were, as a mentor and trying to nurture them’. Mentoring sessions were carried out every week for around 50 minutes. These tended to focus on the university's requirement to set and monitor targets, reviewing the previous week's targets and setting new ones. Sometimes these were the same every week; as Tracy said, ‘Behavioural management was a thing that carried on right the way through’. Marcus gave her ‘general targets’ such as, ‘work on acceptable behaviour in and out of the classroom’ and she found this, ‘very useful’ although, she said, ‘when I wasn't feeling too great it might have gone through one ear and out the other’.

Tracy confirmed my impression that Marcus helped her to find her own way of teaching, saying, ‘He wanted me to come up with my own ideas . . . he didn't enforce things on me, he suggested and said, “well it's up to you”'. The meetings I observed gave the impression of an equal relationship, with Marcus speaking between 54% and 58% of the words. He asked questions and advised in roughly equal measure. This use of questioning was something that Marcus wanted Tracy to do for herself. The following exchange illustrates how Marcus engaged in thinking aloud, helping her to discover how to deal with a difficult pupil:

Marcus also used questioning to help Tracy find her own way forward. The following example illustrates how he helped her to plan a lesson, after she had previously had problems with the behaviour of a class:

When Marcus offered advice, he almost always explained his reasoning, saying, for example,

However, Tracy did not pass the requirements of the placement. Her account of this centred around the role of the external examiner, who had observed her teach a lesson. Tracy told me that the pupils, ‘were in a particularly rowdy mood, and it wasn't particularly smooth running although . . . I thought, ‘Well, it went a bit badly but hey, they achieved what I wanted them to’. However, she described her interview with the external examiner as follows:

According to Tracy, Marcus was ‘as bemused as I was’ by her failure. Marcus himself told me that Tracy's failure was due to problems with class management, which stemmed from poor planning. In retrospect, he said, ‘I think what I would have done would be get much, much deeper in to the planning with her in the early stages and really take her through what she was planning . . . and point out the pitfalls before they occurred’. There were other problems which he did help her with, and which she didn't appear to solve:

Marcus felt that this lack of awareness lay at the root of Tracy's problems:

Tracy's problems were exacerbated because she was found to have glandular fever at some point in the placement. This meant that, ‘There was always one day a week when she wasn't in, and when she was in, she wasn't always in a fit state to be in front of a lively class’. Noticing this, Marcus had contacted the university and, ‘organised the timetable so that she had less teaching’. He felt that she was ‘treated more than fairly’ and yet, ‘she had quite a big chip on her shoulder’ and she felt ‘victimised’ because she was ill.

Although Tracy was unhappy with her university tutor and the external examiner, she had no such qualms about Marcus, telling me, ‘I appreciated so much the fact that [Marcus] always had a couple of minutes even when he was busy. He always made the time. He always put in the effort’. On the other hand, she told me that his positive attitude might have had its drawbacks:

In summary, Marcus and Tracy shared the conversation in their meetings fairly equally, Marcus helped Tracy to solve her own problems, and was very positive, but this could not prevent her from failing although, after my research finished, Tracy successfully completed another placement at a different school and qualified as a teacher.