I love kayaking. I have experience of tackling remote glacial lakes that stretch for kilometres with no-one in sight, a millpond with the only surface disturbance being the dip of the paddles. Coasting through unchallenging waters with little to think about, it can be such a pleasure to take in the scenery and not worry about the point of it all. Coastal and ocean kayaking can prove more challenging with wind, currents, orthogonals and the relentless push-and-pull of waves make me work harder to maintain direction. Rivers, especially braided ones, can produce very tough conditions especially if there are eddies, channel obstructions, waterfalls or rapids.

Earlier this week I introduced my 6 year old daughter to kayaking. Donned in sunscreen, cap, sunnies and the all-important life-jacket, we hopped into the two-person vessel and pushed off from the bank. Queensland is blessed with a bounty of jaw-dropping tidal estuaries with idyllic palm-fringed beaches and islands well within reach. In planning this jaunt, one thing I had underestimated was the array of currents that would significantly impact my ability to navigate the channel; tides rushing out, sand-bars appearing by the minute (it seemed) which could run us aground, mangrove entanglements, buoys and other estuarine traffic. I’d like to say that I picked the wrong day but the truth is we’d face these challenges any day.

After ten minutes of hugging the bank, my daughter asked if we could cross the channel to explore what appeared to be a lush, relatively untouched island. As we veered off on a new heading, it became noticeable how tough the task actually was. The effort exerted and struggle to maintain the trajectory was really evident to my daughter. ‘Why is this so hard Daddy? A few moments later, she cracked this little beauty; ‘Is teaching this hard?’

Allegory aside, I dare say everyone’s response to this question would differ. upon reflection, some might observe that it can be tough for some teachers to think, feel and act with confidence. 

Social media, staffroom chat, conferences etc. must make some feel that we are caught in a cross-fire of opposing philosophies and approaches. The binary and often reductive discourse can feel like paddling around a promontory, battling opposing currents to find a rythem. Like Magpie’s mesmerised by the next shiny thing, wooed by the most recent branch of evidence or deafened by the cacophony of sound bites, edujargon, ‘preneurs’ of all sorts, a clutch of ‘thought-leaders’ or strong opinions, it is easy to see why some teachers or schools feel like they need to plot a new course. Schools inherently want to do what’s best for their communities, and while we all appreciate a better, rigorous understanding of what research is informing us of (be it teacher/school led or from academia), which way should each school jump?

In thinking about how education has looked to agriculture and also recently medicine to identify how to eliminate risk and transplant it with certainty, I am reminded of this note from Lawrence Stenhouse’s ‘Artistry and Teaching’ (1988):

“The yearning towards a form of research which might guide educational action led researchers to look enviously at agricultural research. Here in a tradition associated with Ronald Fisher, researchers had conducted field trials which utilised random sampling in block and plot designs in order to recommend to farmers those strains of seed and crop treatments which would maximise yield. Both random sampling – which legitimized the deployment of the statistics of probability to estimate error and significance – and the measure of yield problems in educational research.”

So to maximise yield, from where do we gain and leverage the data, tools and motivation to propagate the forward steps we need? Who or what should schools and teachers listen to? Acclaimed (and sometimes cheerleader-appointed) ‘edu-guru’s’ spruik all manner of vernacular with well-rehearsed precision. I would argue that uncritical thinking about their intentions or what they are peddling can be dangerous. How transparent are they? If they purport to be open, how open? Are they genuinely altruistic if there is profit to be made or influence to be gained? Some have highly influential blogs, a book or two, a tech solution, toolkit, meta-study, speaker-circuit gig or parachute into a think tank and apply considerable sway. They are alluring and can seduce the most diligent of districts, leadership teams, and teachers.

Think tanks, policy actors or ‘cross-dressers’ (noted at #aare2015) court the debate. Do they declare their biases? We should develop a healthy scepticism of motivations, funding arrangements, product-pushes, alliances, network influence etc. Endorsement by influential politicians who have a propensity to extract selective sound bites from studies to champion their policies or justify initiatives exacerbate the problem. Spouting ‘evidence shows …’ suggesting the findings are indisputable, when it could be argued that most research can be contested. It is after all evidence not proof we are talking about? Are schools generating their own or purchasing high quality professional development that will be sustainable, have impact and build capacity? Or, do they piggyback on some of the sponsored so-called ‘professional development opportunities’ which ride on the well-oiled back of a #, replete with bingo, beer and branding (sometimes undeclared). Is this confusion the ‘market’?

Of course, it’s not all ‘snake oil’. On the positive side this year, I know I am not alone in sincerely appreciating the generosity of scholars, school or organisational leaders and the like, who engage with the profession in person, via digital means or social-media and openly share their research and work. It is gratifying that we can work alongside them to develop ideas, tools and data to support our and their work.

On the return leg back to the kayak-hire centre, my daughter commented that ‘this is much easier’ and ‘we’re going in the right direction’. The current was carrying us favourably and the journey was smoother. So what made the difference? Was it the time, the course, the psychology of the homeward stretch? Less to think about? Whatever it was, there was less to do, less friction and less interference. In the search for ‘objectivity’, teachers and schools wrestle to regain control of the undercurrents. Together is surely better than in competition. But where and how to start?

I am left wondering, if schools paddle harder because of who they listen to, what they buy into and what they accept as the right thing to do, how do they stay afloat, keep a satisfied crew and protect themselves from being boarded by marauding buccaneers intent on plundering precious cargo – minds, finances or vision?