Engaging teachers in re-imagining
curriculum
Rosemary Hipkins
Abstract
This article uses a specific curriculum innovation—a focus on the nature of science—to illustrate the complex dynamics of curriculum change. Snapshots from the professional learning of two teachers, one primary and one secondary, are used to discuss why teachers’ personal learning may not translate into changes in their taught curriculum unless additional support helps them to rethink traditional teaching and learning practices.
Introduction
As the Curriculum Marautanga project nears completion, and the wording of the new national curriculum receives its final polish, New Zealand’s teachers find themselves facing a new round of curriculum change. What sense will they make of the inclusion of five key competencies at the heart of learning in every curriculum area? Consultative feedback on the draft suggests that most respondents were interested in the replacement of the “essential skills” with the more complex and multilayered “key competencies”, and saw the latter as clearly expressed and potentially useful for designing a school curriculum (Colmar Brunton, 2007). So the goodwill is there.
Early exploration of the nature of the key competencies suggests they could have the potential to transform the curriculum, or they could be read more superficially (Reid, 2006). What might support teachers to foreground the key competencies in a way that transforms the curriculum they teach? What might lead some to make only superficial changes or ignore the key competencies altogether?
This article addresses these questions by drawing on research in another area of curriculum change—the inclusion of “the nature of science” (NoS) in science teaching—because this innovation has often been resisted or ignored by teachers (Hipkins, 2006), and because there are links between the NoS strand of the science curriculum and the key competencies (Barker, Hipkins, & Bartholomew, 2004). The article describes some of the findings of a research project exploring teacher thought and actions in relation to NoS (Hipkins, 2006) as a way of illustrating the challenges we can expect to face as the key competencies are implemented.
NoS as a curriculum innovation
Learning about the “nature of science” (NoS) was a goal of science education for much of the 20th century, but calls to include this in the curriculum have become more urgent in the 21st century. Reformists argue that more attention should be given to learning goals related to understanding how science works in contemporary settings (for example, Hurd, 1998) and the “rules of the game” of science knowledge construction (Gilbert, 2001). Such knowledge is seen as an appropriate preparation for all students, not just those who intend to continue in science, so that they might become confident and willing democratic participants in debates surrounding the socioscientific issues (Millar and Osborne, 1998). Another argument is that full participation in the knowledge society requires discipline-specific understanding as an enabling starting point to the creation of new knowledge in cross-disciplinary settings (Gilbert, 2005).
If these goals are to be achieved, students must have opportunities to learn about NoS and teachers will need to “re-imagine” science education (Tytler, 2007). However, the manner in which NoS should be understood is itself contested. There is no one unified “nature” of science, as the curriculum term NoS suggests, but rather the manner in which NoS is understood depends on the theoretical lens through which it is framed (Hipkins, 2006). Debates about the actual nature(s) of science in the science education literature tend to fall into two broad groupings. An epistemologically focused NoS concerns itself with the authority of knowledge claims—as Bruno Latour would say, with “matters of fact” (Latour, 2004). By contrast, an ontologically focused NoS concerns itself with how the world “is” when viewed through the lens of science. Such a lens, Latour asserts, could open up an urgently needed space to focus on “matters of concern”.
In its narrower framing, an epistemological focus directs attention to rational thinking, and in particular the interplay between scientific theories and empirical evidence. Framed more broadly, an epistemological NoS also encompasses sociological dimensions and is concerned with how social processes affect knowledge-building processes within science communities, and between scientists and the wider community. Ford and Forman (2006) suggest that the dynamic interplay between these two aspects of NoS needs not just to be understood, but to be actually experienced by students if they are to be able to achieve the re-imagined curriculum goals briefly sketched above.
Taking an ontological focus, “science studies” theorists describe scientists’ work in terms of shifting networks of people, other living things, technological artefacts and the nonliving components of the world. Such networks transcend the traditional binary distinctions between the “natural” and the “social” (see, for example, Latour, 1991; Latour & Woolgar, 1979) and between mind and body that underpin more traditional views of NoS. However, the question of what such “science studies” might look like when translated into a science curriculum remains unexplored (Hipkins, 2006).
Notwithstanding these differences of theoretical framing, it seems that understanding scientific knowledge as constructed according to disciplinebased practices, not just as predigested curriculum “facts”, is a key element for re-imagining the taught science curriculum. However, according to the international science education research literature, teachers in general have NoS views that are not especially sophisticated and therefore not adequate to the challenge of rethinking curriculum (Hipkins, Barker, & Bolstad, 2005). This body of research, focused as it is on teachers’ lack of “appropriate” NoS understandings and their resistance to change, is essentially a deficit literature (Hipkins, 2006).
Many science teachers are avid readers of popular accounts of major scientific discoveries, so they are not necessarily uninterested in NoS ideas as part of their ongoing personal learning. Nevertheless, in both the UK and the USA, attempts to fill this perceived deficit via teacher education courses and new types of teaching and learning materials have met with mixed success and some resistance (see, for example, Abd-El-Khalick & Lederman, 2000; Ryder & Leach, 2005). It seems that there is a complex set of influences at play when teachers are asked to consider NoS in the curriculum they teach. What might prevent a personal interest in NoS translating easily into classroom practice? The next section draws from a research project that looked at teachers’ personal professional learning in a context where rethinking curriculum in relation to NoS was a potential outcome, if not an explicit focus.
Teachers’ personal learning and challenges for its transfer to the classroom
The snapshots presented next are taken from a qualitative exploration of eight teachers’ personal constructions of NoS, as represented in their science teaching. The eight participants were recipients of New Zealand Science Mathematics and Technology Teacher Fellowships. Each spent a full year working on a science research project in a professional research setting, on an investigation they had shaped. These fellowships have multiple goals. There is a “sabbatical” component of rewarding and refreshing hard-working teachers who are considered to have contributed much to their profession. In addition, the teachers’ work in shaping educative materials based on their research experiences, and subsequent sharing of these experiences with their students and with other teachers, is intended to have a spin-off effect in raising the profile of science research and possible science careers in New Zealand.
The development of NoS understanding is not an explicit goal for the fellowship experience. However, the fellowship holders are immersed in a working science context where they experience at first hand how actual science knowledge building differs from the products of science inquiry, presented as predigested “facts” in typical science learning materials. This suggested an opportunity to explore teachers’ personal learning experiences—experiences that might or might not lead to NoS insights—and to see what sense they made of these experiences when they returned to teaching. The teachers in the study were interviewed four times (by telephone) over a period of two years. The interviews explored memorable experiences (those that each teacher chose to relate in response to a general opening question about how things were going), personal NoS beliefs as framed by the science education literature, and the subsequent translation of both aspects into their teaching practice.
These telephone interviews were transcribed and analysed using life history approaches to qualitative research in the social sciences, within a theoretical framework informed by the work of science studies theorists. Susan Chase (1995) recommends searching the text of the “story-as-told” for what she calls “narrative difficulties”, where people seem to simultaneously hold two distinctly different, indeed contradictory, experiences of self in the experiences they recount. Margaret Olson and Cheryl Craig (2005) extend Chase’s idea to propose that “narrative tensions” are smoothed as teachers tell themselves (and researchers) “cover stories”. They adopt Carol Gilligan’s metaphor of the cover story as “a wall” (p. 164) that helps a person to separate conflicting versions of events when narrative difficulties arise, and suggest there are compelling reasons for teachers to appear to be living a socially authorised version of events, regardless of the fit with their own personal views. When researchers shape and share such cover stories they may help teachers to reframe their experiences.
Thus the aim is not to blame teachers for lack of change, but to try to see the issues through the lens of their experiences, perhaps more clearly seeing the tensions and sticking points than they can themselves. The result can be new insights into ways to better support curriculum change, and thus to help teachers “re-imagine” their work. The next section looks at the experiences of two of the teachers in this study.
Teacher learning, narrative tensions and cover stories
This section focuses on elements from the interviews with Bridie, a primary school teacher, and Sarah,1 a secondary school biology teacher. Both worked on projects with an ecological and environmental focus that entailed considerable amounts of fieldwork. This type of science knowledge-building activity has been a focus in science studies (Latour, 1999; Law & Lynch, 1990). Two key themes in this work are the non-binary or embodied nature of learning, and the “storied” nature of learning. Such stories might encompass wider, messy, and uncertain contexts of science knowledge-building and the impacts of science at work in the world. These ideas are important for re-imagining teaching, so ways that teachers might react to calls for the introduction of a more contextual, contingent view of science knowledge building in their own classroom work form the third theme for the snapshots presented next.
Theme 1: Embodied learning
Both Bridie and Sarah noticed a change to their own powers of observation during the year of fieldwork. Speaking of her heightened ability to name species in the field, Bridie observed that “it is almost like you don’t know how you actually know, but it has just become part of your knowledge, has become part of you somehow”. Sarah also described a type of embodied knowing that developed as the year progressed. She learnt to sense the presence of the species she was tracking, even from the slightest of indications that they were nearby. She recognised that this sort of knowing had not developed quickly, but was the result of sustained hard work and deep experience. “I think the time would be the factor. The amount of time it has taken to do the good observations”.
Both Sarah and Bridie, emphasised the role of the senses in learning. Sarah suggested the “cognitive side” was over emphasised and expressed regret that she had missed out on sensory opportunities in her own learning. She described her science courses at university as “disappointing” in this respect. Yet when asked what she would take back to school from her fellowship experiences, she spoke of stories she could tell, as if merely “telling” could be a substitute for learning that she knew took so much time and practice. Similarly, when asked how her experiences of her science project were similar to what children can do in school, Bridie emphasised observation as “looking really closely at something. Much more closely than you would normally”. There was no overt sense that such orchestrated episodes might be very different from her deep personal experiences of observing something over a long period of time.
Sarah returned to school determined to organise more opportunities for fieldwork of the sort she had been involved in, but by the time of the final interview she noted that she had “slipped into the same groove for some of the old habits, but that is survival”. When asked what these old habits were, she said “running labs and students in terms of getting the material out to the students. Also teaching as well as you can, running the practicals. I haven’t changed too much in that way.”
There were narrative difficulties (Chase, 1995) resulting from the contrast between the richness of their personal fieldwork experiences and their actual classroom practice. For both Bridie and Sarah there seemed to be a wall between their personal experiences of the embodied challenges of new knowledge building, and the view of learning as knowledge acquisition which they tacitly adopted when discussing their practice. This suggests that re-imagining the nature of learning will be an important challenge to be met if transformative curriculum changes are to be achieved.
Theme 2: Telling fieldwork stories
Retelling rich fieldwork stories, Sarah found she could have students “riveted quite quickly”. When asked how her experiences might help her to help students learn, Sarah described how she could now demonstrate Fenn traps and other means of getting rid of pest animals such as mustelids – “practical things that I’ve picked up I can take into the classroom now”. Sarah wanted to integrate her new learning with her existing motivation to help all her students develop a practical conservation ethic. Such stories would introduce her students to science at work in real-world conservation projects, from an insider’s perspective. The vividness of the learning environment she sought to create is at odds with NoS as a somewhat abstract exploration of epistemological warrants for knowledge building, as discussed in much of the research literature. This is a useful reminder that passion for their subject is likely to influence a teacher’s curriculum decision making.
Research into the practices of field ecologists (Bowen & Roth, 2002) suggests that fieldwork stories are a “common currency” (p. 22) by which field ecologists build social cohesion as a research community. “Heroic” stories, in particular, are likely to be shared in informal settings, and are often allegorical, helping other ecologists to learn vicariously from the experiences and (mis)fortunes of their peers. In this way, such stories are also used to enculturate fledgling ecologists, who are unlikely to have learned what they need to know to be successful in research in the field during their formal university studies.
Sarah compared stories shared while out in the field with the mundane nature of staffroom stories she heard immediately after she returned to school. What she felt as a disappointing loss is likely to signal an important difference between the work of a teacher and the work of a field ecologist. Teachers’ staffroom interactions are likely to serve an entirely different function. Olson and Craig (2005) suggest that “congeniality” is an important way for teachers to “smooth over differences and live together in complex, contradictory, tension-filled school landscapes” (pp. 172–173). They implicate the need for smoothness, for the “still pond”, with everyone in their place, as an important driver of cover stories teachers tell when they find themselves at odds with official versions of the way things are in school. This is a useful reminder that schools as institutions are a powerful constraint on teachers’ ability to re-imagine their work.
Comparing three beginning teachers’ experiences of a research fellowship with their subsequent classroom experiences, Varelas, House, and Wenzel (2005) identified many institutional contradictions that have implications for NoS. They contrasted:
•&;&;&;&;freedom in research with control in the classroom
•&;&;&;&;lots of time to do research with limited time in the classroom
•&;&;&;&;messy research processes with linear, orderly teaching processes
•&;&;&;&;floundering in research complexities with an emphasis on basic knowledge and understanding as the key underpinning of new learning
•&;&;&;&;taking risks in research with being responsible for students in teaching
•&;&;&;&;exploring in research with fear of not knowing in the classroom
•&;&;&;&;a theory-data dialectic in research with a more certain data emphasis in the classroom. (Varelas et al., 2005, p. 512)
At least some of these institutional contradictions are linked to seeing the official curriculum as a document that specifies a predetermined “content” to be taught to all students. However, the revised New Zealand curriculum sets a “direction for learning”(Ministry of Education, 2006, p. 7) rather than specifying detailed content. With key competencies at its heart, the revised curriculum can be interpreted as a framework for action (Hipkins, 2005a). This interpretation would help resolve the NoS tensions listed, but only if teachers perceive and are willing to take freedoms potentially granted in a framework model. Here the work of re-imagining requires a different view of the role of “content” in the taught curriculum if aspects such as key competencies are to be brought into the foreground.
The challenges of such re-imagining should not be underestimated. School-based accountability measures had a strong impact on Sarah’s view of what must be taught (Hipkins, 2005b). The school’s drive for curriculum “coverage” constrained what she could do, and the pressures of the daily timetable whirl saw her resort to “survival” by taking up time-honoured practical activities that could be readied for her by a lab technician. It is food for thought that the predominant change desired by all the teacher fellows on their return to school was a better work-life balance and a reduction of stress in the frantic school day. How can we expect teachers to confront and relearn deeply embodied aspects of their practice when they can barely keep their heads above water in the daily rush of school life?
Theme 3: Awareness of uncertainty and political tensions in knowledge construction
Bridie became very aware of the capriciousness of field sampling, realising her formal recording regime had missed several important events in her study area. Early the next year, looking back on her experiences, she worried that her inability to control all possible variables in the face of the need to sample in a complex real-world setting might have compromised her work:
I tried to do these observations over different times each day, so it wouldn’t be the same time each day. But then because I did at this particular time of day, the four-wheel motorbike went by. If I had done it half an hour earlier it wouldn’t have. I just felt that I wasn’t getting a true picture in some ways, because of all these extra things. (Interview 3)
She also initially struggled to know where to begin to write her formal report, since her project had several interconnected threads, and various possibilities for the organisation of the “story” of the research presented themselves. But when asked if these experiences could be translated into activities that gave her students a more realistic view of the challenges of knowledge construction, Bridie was adamant that this was inappropriate. She believed that children had sufficient challenges when learning science ideas and simplified inquiry methods such as “fair testing” without introducing an element of uncertainty related to the more complex and messy reality of actual science projects. Her instinct was to simplify, predigest and thus shield her students from the uncertainties she herself found both vexing and stimulating.
Bridie’s belief that children need to begin by learning simple things led her to draw a line between her personal experiences of the complexities of observational studies and the ways in which she could produce “scientific observation” as a classroom activity. It may be that the widely held belief in children’s simple step-wise development is acting here as a cover story (Olson & Craig, 2005) to hold at bay her awareness that science is not really like that. Or it may be that, in the absence of opportunities for supported metacognitive reflection on her own learning, she could not find a way to reconcile her personal doubts with her more certain classroom practice.
Sarah experienced a different type of uncertainty, but with a similar outcome. She had to cope with vigorous conservation politics during her fellowship year and she enjoyed talking to adult groups about this. But she said she would never discuss this contested aspect of fieldwork with her students, for two reasons:
Now you don’t know who is sitting in front of you with the classes. So I am a bit wary of giving that sort of information out. And also I am always a bit wary about talking about myself in class. I mean you talk about your cat, various things but more on a personal level, don’t give too much out. I don’t think the students really respect that. You can’t be too familiar. Perhaps that’s what I’m trying to say. (Interview 4)
It is possible to argue that this is congruent with a traditional view of NoS as value free and “objective” (as opposed to the science studies alternative sketched above), but the situation was more complex than that. These reservations did not apply only to contemporary issues, where students’ parents could well be involved in local conservation efforts and where she might be asked about her personal values. In other parts of our conversations Sarah spoke at some length about her personal interest in Charles Darwin and the struggle he experienced between his religious views and his shaping of the theory of evolution. So she was well aware of, and interested in, both historical and contemporary values conflicts when scientists engage in both theory building and empirical investigations. But again, in the case of Darwin, this was an interest she felt she could not share in case the religious dimension was too personal and unsettling for her students. It may be that simplicity, sensitivity, and manageability combine as aspects of a cover story for the “incommensurable gap” (Olson & Craig, 2005, p. 162) between Sarah’s deeply held commitment to ecological research for restorative conservation projects and what she perceives it is appropriate to discuss in school science lessons.
In her feedback in a later conversation Sarah endorsed this interpretation of her beliefs but added another dimension. She noted that story telling “takes up time in class that is needed to wade through our very full science curriculum”. She had experienced situations where students saw stories as distractions from curriculum coverage and gave her negative feedback to that effect. This is a cogent reminder that both teachers’ and students’ expectations of appropriate learning activities help shape what teachers do in very immediate and emotionally powerful ways. Rethinking teaching as “telling” and learning as content acquisition will not be easy so long as this view is widely shared and understood. This traditional view of teaching and learning is likely to be something we think with rather than something we think about (Gilbert, 2005). Re-imagining teaching here also challenges teachers to support students to tolerate greater uncertainty as they actively work to build new knowledge, rather than supporting them to acquire predigested and certain knowledge by the least effort. This challenge calls into question the way teachers see their role, requiring them to rethink their own identities as “knowledgeable experts” as they re-imagine ways to use their disciplinary expertise to support students who are more active in their own learning.
Facing up to the challenges of re-imagining curriculum
When curriculum innovation fails to occur, even when mandated, it is all too easy to lay the blame with the teachers who are in the forefront of the implementation process. The lessons from this study, with its challenges for re-imagining NoS in the curriculum, provide food for thought as the key competencies are introduced to the New Zealand curriculum. If we hope to fully engage teachers in the process of re-imagining science education—or any other area of the curriculum in the light of the key competencies, so that what is taught is a better fit with this century—then the following aspects would all seem to be in need of explicit attention.
System-wide rethinking of the traditional model of learning as “getting” or “having” knowledge for its own sake
In the first instance, teachers and students need to agree on their immediate learning goals, but behind these classroom interactions aspects such as assessment structures and parental expectations also serve to reinforce the status quo. Changes such as the key competencies only make partial sense within this model. Developing competency demands that knowledge is integrated with skills, values and dispositional aspects of learning (Rychen & Salganik, 2003). Practice is necessary; the teacher cannot learn for a student. Assessment practices need to reflect the diverse directions in which such learning might lead each student (Carr, in press). Curriculum changes are likely to be superficial unless this deep change in views of the nature of learning, and the purposes for learning, occurs and is widely shared.
Opportunities for teachers to rethink ways in which their expertise can be used to support student learning
Currently teachers are likely to use their passion for their subject to be an authoritative source of knowledge for their students, who in turn judge the teacher by how much they know and how easily and safely they can make their knowledge accessible. The shared view of learning as acquisition of particular sorts of knowledge is deeply entrenched and reinforced by many aspects of education systems (Sfard, 1998). Developing key competencies requires a more active involvement from students, and the knowledge-era literature suggests they must learn how to create knowledge, not just acquire it (Gilbert, 2005). Students still need teacher support, but the role changes and the teachers themselves need support to rethink what this means in practice. What would changed learning interactions look like? How might the school day and familiar organisational structures change? What sorts of curriculum materials would support such change? How would teachers know when they had done a “good job”?
Provision of the necessary time and support for re-imagining practice
Re-imagining fundamental aspects of practice could be seen as cutting to the very core of a teacher’s identity. They are being asked to step outside the familiar status quo of everyday contexts and ways of working and look back in with “new eyes”. But how is this possible when each day passes in a blur of interactions, tasks, and general busy work? Time for exploration and reflection is necessary, but it would be a mistake to think it is sufficient. Similarly, opportunities for rich personal professional learning are not, of themselves, a sufficient stimulus for change. Rather, both personal learning and supported reflection about the nature and implications of that learning need to be drawn together by facilitators with the necessary skills to help teachers re-imagine their professional work. Reinventing one’s identity is never easy, and classrooms are particularly challenging sites for such change (Packer & Goicoechea, 2000). Thus, to these philosophical aspects, we also need to add practical and emotional support as teachers try out new ideas and work to change their practice.
If we fail to meet these conditions, it seems likely the energy, effort, and goodwill that has gone into the curriculum revision will be squandered. Some teachers will “get” the implications of changes such as the addition of key competencies and light a path where others may or may not follow. Many more are likely to respond with the all-too-familiar refrain “we already do that”, or to make superficial changes at best. Multifaceted, well resourced and carefully designed support will be needed if deep curriculum change is to have a chance of succeeding, and it will have to focus on both the practical and more philosophical aspects of education for this century, not the last two.
References
Abd-El-Khalick, F., & Lederman, N. (2000). The influence of history of science courses on students’ views of the nature of science. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 37(10), 1057-1095.
Barker, M., Hipkins, R., & Bartholomew, R. (2004). Reframing the essential skills: Implications for and from the science curriculum. Wellington: Ministry of Education. Retrieved June 2007, from http://www.tki.org.nz/r/nzcurriculum/docs/reframing-essential-skills.doc
Bowen, M., & Roth, W. M. (2002). The “socialization” and enculturation of ecologists in formal and informal settings. Electronic Journal of Science Education, 6(3), 1-25. Retrieved from http://unr.edu/homepage/crowther/ejse/bowenroth.html Last accessed 17/12/03
Carr, M. (in press). Can assessment unlock and open the doors to resourcefulness and agency? In S. Swaffield (Ed.), Unlocking Assessment. London: Routledge.
Chase, S. (1995). Taking narrative seriously: Consequences for method and theory in interview studies. In R. Josselson & A. Lieblich (Eds.), Interpreting experience: The narrative study of lives (Vol. 3, pp. 1-26). Thousand Oaks: Sage Pubications.
Colmar Brunton. (2007). The Draft New Zealand Curriculum: Feedback questionnaire results. Wellington: Ministry of Education. Retrieved 25 September 2007, from http://www.tki.org.nz/r/nzcurriculum/reports_analyses_e.php
Ford, M., & Forman, E. (2006). Redefining disciplinary learning in classroom contexts. Review of Research in Education, 30, 1-32.
Gilbert, J. (2001). It’s science Jim, but not as we know it: Re-thinking an “Old” discipline for the “Knowledge Society”. SAMEpapers, 174-190.
Gilbert, J. (2005). Catching the knowledge wave? The knowledge society and the future of education. Wellington: NZCER Press.
Hipkins, R. (2005a). Learning to “be” in a new century: Reflections on a curriculum in transition. Curriculum Matters, 1, 71–86..
Hipkins, R. (2005b, July). Teachers’ curriculum decision making in relation to inclusion of the “nature of science” (NoS) in their lessons. Paper presented at the 36th Annual Conference of ASERA, Hamilton.
Hipkins, R. (2006). Ontological possibilities for rethinking teaching of the “nature of science”. Unpublished doctoral thesis, Deakin University, Melbourne.
Hipkins, R., Barker, M., & Bolstad, R. (2005). Teaching the “nature of science”: Modest adaptations or radical reconceptions? International Journal of Science Education, 27(2), 243-254.
Hurd, P. (1998). Scientific literacy: New minds for a changing world. Science Education, 82(3), 407-416.
Latour, B. (1991). We have never been modern. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Latour, B. (1999). Pandora’s hope: Essays on the reality of science studies. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Latour, B. (2004). Why has critique run out of steam? From matters of fact to matters of concern. Critical Inquiry, 30, 225-248.
Latour, B., & Woolgar, S. (1979). Laboratory life: The social construction of scientific facts. London: Sage Publications.
Law, J. (2003). Making a mess with method. Lancaster, UK: Centre for Science Studies, Lancaster University. Retrieved from http://www.lancs.ac.uk/fss/sociology/papers/law-making-a-mess-with-method.pdf
Law, J., & Lynch, M. (1990). Lists, field guides, and the descriptive organization of seeing: bird watching as an exemplary observational activity. In M. Lynch & S. Woolgar (Eds.), Representation in scientific practice (pp. 267-299). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Millar, R., & Osborne, J. F. (1998). Beyond 2000: Science education for the future. London: Kings College. Retrieved 7 July 2007, from http://www.kcl.ac.uk/content/1/c6/01/32/03/b2000.pdf
Ministry of Education. (2006). The New Zealand Curriculum: Draft for consultation, 2006. Wellington: Author.
Olson, M., & Craig, C. (2005). Uncovering cover stories: Tensions and entailments in the development of teacher knowledge. Curriculum Inquiry, 35(2), 161-182.
Packer, M., & Goicoechea, J. (2000). Sociocultural and constructivist theories of learning: Ontology, not just epistemology. Educational Psychologist, 35(4), 227-241.
Reid, A. (2006). Key competencies: a new way forward or more of the same? Curriculum Matters, 2, 43-62.
Rychen, D., & Salganik, L. (Eds.). (2003). Key competencies for a successful life and a well-functioning society. Cambridge, MA: Hogrefe and Huber.
Ryder, J., & Leach, J. (2005, July). Teaching about the epistemology of science in upper secondary schools: An analysis of teachers’ classroom talk. Paper presented at the International History, Philosophy and Science Teaching Conference, Leeds, July 15-18. Retrieved 24 January 2005, from http://www.education.leeds.ac.uk/research/uploads/24.pdf
Sfard, A. (1998). On two metaphors for learning and the dangers of choosing just one. Educational Researcher, 27(2), 4-13.
Tytler, R. (2007). Re-imagining science education: Engaging students in science for Australia’s future. Melbourne: Australian Council for Educational Research. Retrieved 7 July 2007, from http://www.acer.edu.au/documents/AER51_ReimaginingSciEdu.pdf
Varelas, M., House, R., & Wenzel, S. (2005). Beginning teachers immersed into science: Scientist and science teacher identities. Science Education, 89, 492-516.
Note
1&;&;&;All names are pseudonyms.
The author
Rosemary Hipkins is a chief researcher with the New Zealand Council for Educational Research. The research reported here is drawn from her PhD study, supported by Professors Russell Tytler and Noel Gough, and Deakin University, Australia.
Email: rose.hipkins@nzcer.org.nz.