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The theory of ethical care, as explored by Noddings (1986, 2002, 2003), serves as a framework for understanding relationships between people. In her philosophical treatise, Caring: A feminine approach to ethics and moral education, Noddings (2003) describes the experiences one may have when caring for another or helping another learn how to care, all while striving toward ethical ideals. The purpose of this chapter is to present an example of pedagogy that brings ethical care to the forefront of student teaching supervision, what I refer to as a pedagogy of care. Additionally the aim is to demonstrate how self-study methodology enabled me, a student teaching supervisor, to explore systematically my pedagogy of care to better understand my practice and my self as a teacher educator in the social studies.

In this chapter I explore my relationship with one student teacher in particular.Footnote 1 Together we traveled into territory he would describe as “risky.” From the study I learned that incorporating ethical care into my practice encouraged me to facilitate collaborative learning experiences for the student teacher and for me. It also prompted me to value the student teacher’s perspectives on teaching and to create opportunities for him to practice considering the perspectives of his students. In a sense, our caring relationship allowed us to engage in activities deemed valuable for social studies education. I also learned that self-study methodology served as a vehicle for me to articulate these ideas along with certain limitations of my pedagogy of care.

Supervising Student Teachers, Building Professional Relationships

Many teacher candidates and practicing teachers identify the student teaching portion of their teacher education programs as a critical piece in their professional development (Bullough, 2008; Guyton & McIntyre, 1990; Olmstead, 2007). The student teaching experience does indeed stimulate positive changes in the beliefs of some beginning teachers regarding learning, teaching, and content (Clift & Brady, 2005). However, “mislearning” (Feimen-Nemser & Buchmann, 1987) also occurs with the effect of countering the aims of the teacher preparation program. In their literature review, Wideen, Mayer-Smith, and Moon (1998) provide further support about the impact of student teaching experiences. They report that student teachers’ beliefs can and do change as a result of the student teaching experience, but not always in the ways the teacher education programs intend. One reason for this might be the tension that Wideen et al. (1998) found between the expectations of the teacher educators and those of the student teachers in their programs. They characterize the opposing views as a “change-agenda” (p. 156) that teacher educators tend to present in their coursework and a survival-agenda that student teachers tend to express during their field placements.

University supervisors are regular members in the support system for student teachers in the United States and beyond. One important service university supervisors can provide is to facilitate relationships between student teachers, cooperating teachers, and university teacher educators (Zimpher, deVoss, & Nott, 1980). In their collaborative self-study, Montecinos, Cnudde, Ow, Solis, Suzuki, and Riveros (2002) describe student teaching supervision as “a multidimensional task. It requires providing technical advice, evaluation, and emotional support to the student teacher” (p. 792). Yet the system may not always encourage the types of supportive relationships student teachers and supervisors expect. Borko and Mayfield (1995) found in their case study that both university supervisors and student teachers expressed frustrations about the types of relationships they developed with each other and that the limited amount of time they spent together was a constricting factor in their professional relationships.

Personal traits of supervisors, however, can influence the quality of supervisor–student teacher relationships. Caires and Almeida (2007) found that supervisor attributes, such as “accessibility, good sense…attentiveness and flexibility” (p. 522) contributed to what student teachers identified as the most positive aspect of the supervision experience. Furthermore, supervisor–student teacher relationships can encourage student teacher learning. Talvitie, Peltokallio, and Mannisto (2000) found in their analysis of 16 student teachers’ journals that “a good relationship with the [supervisors] gave [student teachers] the courage to experiment with new pedagogical solutions” (p. 83).

The literature suggests that the quality of relationships between student teachers and their supervisors can play a part in the kinds of learning experiences student teachers have. Research on how such relationships develop, however, is limited. Furthermore, the literature is scant on supervision in social studies teacher education. An exception is the collaborative self-study by Ritter, Powell, and Hawley (2007) in which they explore their developing practices as student teaching supervisors and their attempts to impact student teacher learning. This chapter narrows the focus within the context of social studies education. It looks specifically at a pedagogy of supervision that aims to cultivate a caring relationship between a supervisor and her student teacher to benefit his growth as a beginning professional.

Understanding the Lens of Ethical Care

The theoretical construct of ethical care, as explored by Noddings (1986, 2002, 2003), framed the approach I took as a supervisor. Noddings (2003) offers a descriptive account of when a teacher, the one-caring, enters into a caring relationship with a student, the cared-for. According to Noddings (2003), caring teachers become engrossed in their students’ ideas, they experience motivational displacement, and they commit themselves to promoting their students’ well-being. To complete the caring cycle, a student reciprocates by feeling and responding as though his or her teacher does indeed care. In addition, Noddings (2003) also describes the actions that one-caring teachers take to promote their students’ abilities to care ethically for others. Teachers model care, engage in dialogue with their students, create opportunities for students to practice care, and confirm their students’ desire to actualize their ethical potentials.

The philosophical treatise on the ethic of care (Noddings, 2003) helped to shift the conversation in educational scholarship about morality from using universal truths to dictate behavior to looking at the interplay between people as an arena for moral considerations. Noddings (2002) saw moral behavior as dependent upon the context and relationships in which one engages rather than according to principles devoid of context. Noddings (2002) did not divorce herself completely from universals, however. Her argument rests upon one fundamental belief: all human beings wish to be cared for or “to be in positive relation with at least one other human being” (Noddings, 2002, p. 21). Finally, the ethic arises out of the difference between what Noddings (2003) describes as natural and ethical care:

Ethical caring, the relation in which we do meet the other morally will be described as arising out of natural caring—that relation in which we respond as one-caring out of love or natural inclination. The relation of natural caring will be identified as the human condition that we, consciously or unconsciously, perceive as “good.” (pp. 4–5)

In other words, ethical care occurs when we attempt to develop caring relationships with people we may not love or care for out of natural inclination. As a supervisor I entered into relationships with complete strangers; I had never met the student teachers before we began our work together.

In this chapter I share the story of my attempts at relationship building with one student teacher in particular, for whom I use the pseudonym, Derrick. I look through the lens of ethical care theory, as described by Noddings (2003), to explore the relationship that developed between Derrick and me while I attempted to help him learn about teaching and his practice. My past experiences as a social studies educator also influenced my work as his supervisor. In the next section I discuss some insights about what the reflective process of self-study unveiled for me about the discipline-specific ideals that guided my practice.

Pitching a Tent in the Social Skills Camp

Teaching social studies involves social development. At least that was the premise that guided my pedagogy when I taught high school social studies. Since that time I have become more acquainted with the fact that experts differ about the degree to which social skills should pervade the social studies curriculum in the United States. A long-standing academic conversation about the nature of social studies education has existed since its inception in the 1920s (Adler, 2008; Hertzberg, 1981; Watras, 2002). Some argue that discrete social sciences, most notably history (Gagnon, 1996; Ravitch & Finn, 1987), constitute what children should learn from the social studies curriculum in the nation’s public schools. According to this line of reasoning, the subject matter of the various social sciences matters more than particular skills for using the content. Other voices in the discussion argue that the social studies, as an interdisciplinary endeavor, should provide a “social education” that places skill development for living as competent and involved citizens at the core of the social studies curriculum (Dewey, 1916; NCSS, 1994; Parker, 1996).

Generally I dislike taking sides. However, looking back over the decade I spent in the classroom and the half decade I have spent as a doctoral student in social studies education, I realize that I pitched my tent unmistakably in the camp in which an essential piece is developing students’ social skills. As a social studies teacher I wanted students to practice behaviors that enabled them to learn together in positive ways. Listening to each other, asking each other questions, identifying what they knew and did not know about a topic, and solving problems in groups became central to my teaching. Knight Abowitz and Harnish (2006) would describe my approach as belonging to a Liberal Citizenship Discourse that underscores a need for students to possess the skills for participating in and protecting the democratic political system in which they live.

The process of self-study caused me to dissect my practice through systematic documentation, analysis, and interpretation (Dinkelman, 2003; Hamilton & Pinnegar, 1998). From this introspective glance, I realized that the underpinnings of my teaching philosophy carried over into my research interests and my practice as a teacher educator. I still envision social studies as a discipline through which students learn about and practice skills for democratic living and my conception of social studies education still relies on the premise that social development is an essential part of the curriculum. In keeping with this ideal, the self-study from which this chapter draws upon provided the means through which I was able to more fully understand the social skills that ethical care (Noddings, 1986, 2002, 2003) highlighted in my practice as a teacher educator. I learned that caring ethically prompted me to try to understand Derrick’s viewpoints while collaborating with him. In essence, the process of self-study shed light on the kinds of skills in my practice that I would like social studies student teachers to incorporate into theirs.

Laying Out the Study

The Context

The University of Minnesota’s post-baccalaureate teacher licensing program is what Kennedy (1998) would classify as having a “reform orientation” to teacher preparation rather than a “management orientation” because it serves to address the complexities inherent in learning, teaching, and the subject matter. In particular the social studies teacher education program underscores the development of its graduates’ authentic instruction and assessment practices (Newmann, Secada, & Wehlage, 1995).

The year I collected data there were roughly 30 students in the social studies education cohort. In the fall semester the students participated in a practicum in which they spent 6 weeks in middle or high school social studies classrooms and taught for four of those weeks. The capstone requirement was their student teaching assignment during the spring semester, in which the students spent 10 weeks in social studies classrooms full time and planned and taught for at least six of those weeks. It was during this time that I met and worked with Derrick.

Four white, middle class female doctoral students, of which I was one, served as student teaching supervisors for the social studies cohort. A social studies professor in the Curriculum and Instruction Department supervised the doctoral students. The responsibilities for supervising student teachers during their capstone experience involved reading, commenting on, and evaluating student teacher lesson plans weekly and student teaching journals biweekly; observing student teachers teach at least three times; meeting with student teachers once in the beginning of the semester and thereafter following each observation to discuss their progress; and communicating program expectations to both the student teachers and cooperating teachers. Final assessments included checklists of student teacher dispositions and letters of recommendations.

Research Goals

My intention for the study was to gain a better understanding of how ethical care (Noddings, 2003) might influence my work as a supervisor of social studies student teachers. I was not a teacher in the usual sense of the word, but I did consider myself an educator: I had to assess the student teachers’ abilities and provide them with feedback that would help them learn. Additionally I had taught a variety of middle school and high school social studies classes and had taught courses in the teacher preparation program at the University. Thus, when I met Derrick and the other student teachers, I approached them with the intention of caring for them as my students, and wanting to get to know them so that I could promote their development as beginning social studies teachers.

The following research questions helped me explore the process of caring for student teaching supervisees: How do I engage in a pedagogy of care with social studies student teachers? How do I use pedagogical relationships to engage the student teachers in learning about a pedagogy of care? What images of ethical care do I see mirrored in my student teachers? What are the implications of a pedagogy of care for supervising social studies student teachers?

Methodology

Why Self-Study?

Although self-study has been a “relatively underused” (Johnston, 2006, p. 57) methodology in social studies research, it suited my purposes well. Self-study, as described by Dinkelman (2003), Hamilton and Pinnegar (1998), and LaBoskey (2004), provided a framework for me to document the ways I interacted with Derrick, the thoughts I had during the interactions and throughout the relationship, the challenges I faced, the changes that occurred in me throughout the process, and finally, Derrick’s perception of how our relationship affected him and his practice. Overall, the methodology aided me in the quest Adler (2008) describes as “developing a deeper understanding of the practices of teacher education by making the tacit theories of teacher education practitioners public and explicit and by subjecting those beliefs and practices to careful study, data collection, and reflection” (pp. 332–333).

Data Collection Methods

Data for the study came from a variety of sources including email correspondence with Derrick, my comments on his lesson plans, notes that I took during teaching observations, our recorded post-observation conversations, field notes documenting what occurred after site visits, analytic journal entries throughout the time I served as Derrick’s supervisor, and an exit interview after I finished my responsibilities as his supervisor.

Analytic Processes

I borrowed from case study research methods to explore the data systematically. My strategy for analysis arose from a theoretical proposition (Yin, 2003), that of ethical care (Noddings, 1986, 2002, 2003). In the beginning stages of analysis I used Noddings’ (2003) descriptors of ethical care as a heuristic to explore my work with Derrick. In my reflective journal entries I wrote about my experiences of caring for him: my engrossment in his ideas, my commitment to his growth, my ability to displace my motivations with his, and examples of reciprocity. I also wrote in my journals about ways that I taught him about care, how I modeled care, how I entered into dialogue with him, how I gave him opportunities to practice care for his students, and how I confirmed his best intentions. For example, journal prompts asked me to contemplate the ways in which I tried to become engrossed in Derrick’s ideas, what the experience of becoming engrossed was like, difficulties/rewards of engrossment, and the impact of engrossment on my pedagogical choices as Derrick’s supervisor.

Continuing the analysis I looked at the comments I made on Derrick’s lesson plans and on his journal entries. I reread my field notes. I also listened to and transcribed the post-observation debriefing conversations and the exit interview. I used meaning categorization (Kvale, 1996) as a technique to classify the data according to Noddings’ (2003) terminology and to the research questions that shaped the study. I used broad-brush (Bazeley, 2007) coding strategies to identify subcategories. Additionally, I used time-series analysis (Yin, 2003) to organize the data into chronologies.

Cultivating Care

Ethical care is an ontological approach I assumed in my work with Derrick. At the forefront of my mind in the beginning stages of our relationship was learning about him and helping him achieve the goals to which he was striving. Care theory involves confirmation of one’s actions in the sense that I would give Derrick the benefit of the doubt if he veered off-course from his goals. Noddings (2003) describes the process further: “She meets him as he is and finds something admirable and, as a result, he may find the strength to become even more admirable. He is confirmed” (p. 179). In the following section I chart the pedagogical decisions I made as I tried to learn about Derrick’s aspirations, to help him work toward his goals for professional development.

Anticipated Steps

To introduce myself I sent a letter via email in the middle of January to Derrick. I introduced myself, listed five items that described the services I would provide as his supervisor, and listed four responsibilities I would expect him to fulfill. The second sentence of the letter introduced a foundational piece for me: “I look forward to helping you reach your goals” (Introductory letter, January 15). In the list of my expectations for Derrick and the other student teachers, the first item was a directive about identifying their professional goals for the student teaching assignment.

Your Responsibilities

  1. 1.

    Formulate your goals for the student teaching experience. Consider what you want to learn from the experience and how that will help you develop as an educator. (When we meet, I will ask you about the particular goals you are working toward, so that I can adjust my work to suit your needs). (Introductory letter, January 15)

The rest of my expectations for them pertained to logistical matters such as site observations, writing and turning in lesson plans, and a reminder to present themselves as professionals at all times. I closed the note with “Once again, I look forward to working with you this semester” (Introductory letter, January, 15).

One week later I met Derrick in person. It was the only occasion when I joined the student teaching seminar class, and it was the only time I met all of my supervisees in one group. We had 30 min to meet for brief introductions and to share our goals:

I told them … that I feel strongly about building relationships as a way to enhance learning, so I wanted us to tell a bit about ourselves and our goals for the time together… I also want to serve as a resource and someone who gives them opportunities to engage in conversations about their knowledge as professionals. (Field notes, January 22)

After the meeting I thought about Derrick’s goals and appreciated his honesty. He did not talk about pedagogical strategies; rather he spoke about himself as a learner. He said that he tends “to get comfortable and go with the same thing every day” (Notes from meeting, January 22). Derrick continued that he wanted to challenge himself to take more risks during his student teaching experience.

Unanticipated Steps

Derrick and I had no contact for nearly 3 weeks, even though I had received two sets or more of weekly lesson plans from the other student teachers. I sent him an email: “Hi Derrick, How are you? I just wanted to find out how your student teaching schedule is shaping up. Are you in the school yet? If so, when do you expect to begin teaching?” (Email correspondence, February 9). He responded the next day to tell me that he would begin teaching the following week and that I could expect to see his lesson plans in 2 days, by the weekly due date. Unfortunately, I did not receive them until the day after he began teaching. In the meantime, I received Derrick’s first set of journal entries, in which he described his displeasure for the learning environment of the classroom and the urban high school where he was. My feedback came 2 days after receiving the first set of lessons:

Based on your journal entries, I am concerned about you, your placement, and the support that you may or may not be receiving at the school. May I visit you early next week? I did not receive your lessons yesterday [for the upcoming week], but when I do, let’s zero in on a day and time for me to come. (Email correspondence, February, 19)

Three days later Derrick responded:

Here is my lesson plan for Monday.… Is there anyway we could meet on Wednesday afternoon. I would prefer to meet outside of the school as it would be more comfortable to discuss my frustrations.

I don’t want you to think I am having a horrible time. It is just not a situation I ever envisioned in a school setting and the classroom is run in a way that does not match my idea of what the most conducive learning environment would consist of.

I truly appreciate your concern and look forward to speaking with you this week. (Email correspondence, February 22)

Derrick and I set up a meeting for the following week. Unfortunately, the stress over his placement apparently affected his health. The day before our meeting I received an email:

Just arrived at school, however I’m feeling under the weather and throwing up this morning before I left. Just curious if I’m not feeling any better if there is something I need to do to leave at lunch? Is that acceptable? (Email correspondence, February 24)

I responded by writing that he didn’t have to wait until lunch to go home, to talk with his cooperating teacher about his lesson plans and to get some rest. Derrick went home. He made it to school the next day and met me at a coffee shop later that afternoon.

Entering the coffee shop I did not recognize Derrick because we had met in person only once before. I tried to put myself at ease by focusing on what Derrick said. I wrote in my field notes: “He talked about his frustrations and the fact that his experiences have impacted his life emotionally in ways that he has not let happen before” (February 25). The most pressing cause was what he perceived to be an attitude among the students, and possibly the cooperating teacher that education was not a priority for them. Later that day I thought to myself: “It is dawning on me now that this was part of the reason he did not turn in a complete set of lessons for this week” (Field notes, February 25). Meeting with Derrick gave me an opportunity to learn about a context within which the teacher preparation program expected him to learn about teaching. It also afforded me a chance to learn more about him so that I could try to foster his development as a beginning teacher. My commitment to Derrick caused me to add this extra meeting; my engrossment helped me listen to what he said; confirming him kept me from judging his teaching disposition at this early stage in our relationship.

When Derrick finished describing his concerns “I summarized his frustrations to make sure I followed him” (Field notes, February 25). Derrick said something to the effect that if he could, he would lead discussions all the time as a teacher. That was my cue. Later that night I described my response:

I … found myself moving into problem solving mode. For some reason I wonder if he did not want/need that, but I wanted to do some problem-solving, to work with him to practice designing a hook in the beginning of a lesson that would give students an opportunity to think of the lesson in terms of their own lives. (Field notes, February 25)

Derrick spoke of not being able to lead discussions in his current placement because the students did not want to talk. I steered the conversation in a way that reinforced a suggestion I had made on his first lesson plan about the powers of the United States Congress from the previous week:

I wonder if it would help if you were to ask some opening questions of the class, to help them dig into their own experiences with the government, or with making “rules,” or with Congress? If you decide to do this, I would take time to think about the questions you might ask. Many teachers make the mistake of assuming that good questions are easy to think of. Thinking of questions that really help students think about what they already know and link to the lesson at hand takes practice. (Lesson plan comments, February 19)

Although my comments in the preceding field note entry demonstrate my uncertainty about whether or not my pedagogical choice to problem solve with Derrick was something he wanted to do, I followed my instincts to use the situation to help him gain experience writing questions. Together we brainstormed possible questions for past and future lessons in the unit he was teaching. We talked about ways to invite participation and thought about what life experiences the students might draw upon to consider the subject matter. I emphasized the point that when students spoke in class they could provide valuable information for Derrick about their lives, what they knew, and what they were learning. Looking back on this conversation I wonder if I embodied ethical care. In other words, did I displace my motivations with his? I knew that he wanted more students to talk in class but did he really want to practice writing questions with me in that moment?

My focus for the meeting at the coffee shop turned out to be twofold. First, I was concerned about Derrick and wanted to learn more about his placement to decide if there was something I should do as a representative of the University. Second of all, I wanted to help him with a specific skill that I had noted from reading his lesson plans and hearing about his desire to lead discussions. Overall I was committed to learning more about Derrick and his goals for student teaching. What we talked about that day resurfaced frequently during the rest of our work together. The interplay between his comfort level in the classroom and the amount of student involvement in conversations in some ways reflected the classroom set-up where he taught.

Interacting Care

Learning about Derrick’s goals was an important first part of our relationship. When I saw him teach I made different pedagogical choices, but still tried to use ethical care as a guide. I attended closely to his teaching, took copious notes on what happened during the class sessions, and met with him for an hour to debrief each time. During the meetings and on his lesson plans I gave him options to consider, but did not dictate what he should do. My attempts to become engrossed with his lessons and his ideas, my commitment to him as a beginning teacher, my confirmation of his strengths, and the degree to which I was able to displace my motivations shaped the direction of our conversations. I brought ideas with me as well about what effective social studies teaching looks like and the purpose to which it serves. Social learning skills such as helping students engage with each other and with the content along the lines of constructivist learning theory influenced the advice I gave. My approach to supervision combined ethical care and a specific interpretation of the social studies curriculum. Within this context, the data suggest that Derrick and I engaged in authentic social studies practices as we discussed his professional choices and growth.

Care as Perspective Taking: Understanding a Divided Classroom

When I entered the classroom for the first time where Derrick was placed, both he and the cooperating teacher suggested that I observe from the teacher’s desk in the front corner. The student desks were in five long rows stretching from front to back. I told them that I wanted to have a different vantage point from Derrick, so that I could gather information from where the students were seated. I chose a desk in the back of the room. Derrick sat down at the front desk off to the corner while students entered. When class began I realized that 7 of the 19 students were sitting in the back rows, separated by up to three empty seats between them and the students in the front rows. I was so startled that I made a map of where students sat in the room. Compounding the physical segregation was the fact that the students in the back rows were all Hmong immigrants and those in the front rows were not. I raised the issue within minutes of starting our debriefing session.

I recommended making the back rows off-limits to students simply as a way to bring the students closer together. Derrick talked about his ideal seating design, which would be in a “U” shape, but that right now he was a student teacher in someone else’s room. We spent the next 10 min discussing various ways to arrange desks to prompt student participation, stemming from our conversation the week before. I urged him to take some time after school to move the desks around and to find out what might work in the long physical space. On three other occasions during the conversation I mentioned the segregated seating arrangement, twice regarding student responses that Derrick had not heard because the students sat so far from him, and once to restate how the desk arrangement countered his aim of wanting students to converse more in class.

When I left that day I hoped that Derrick would make adjustments to the way students were sitting in the room. Only later would I begin to think about how much this segregation represented Derrick’s discomfort in his placement as well as the discomfort students may have felt when they entered the class. Indeed, the process of self-study prompted me to explore this idea as I reviewed the data. During the exit interview Derrick described for me his thoughts:

I felt the situation itself for me was a risk. Um, just my life experience didn’t afford me the opportunity to work with this population up until that point. And, I think that in itself was risky for me, which made it harder to take pedagogical risks. (Exit interview, May 26)

On the day of the first observation I was not surprised about the lack of student involvement. My snapshot assessment targeted the physical segregation in the room and Derrick’s questioning techniques as the culprits. Upon further reflection I cringe at my simplistic suggestion to close the physical space between the immigrant and non-immigrant students. I also think about how much of my work in the beginning stages of student teaching supervision was spent on relationship building, perhaps at the expense of exploring more thoroughly with Derrick the complexities involved in my pedagogical suggestion to remove the empty seats between the two distinct groups of students.

By the end of Derrick’s student teaching term he never did try any of the physical arrangements we bantered around during my first site visit. Becoming engrossed in Derrick’s rationale for accepting the seating arrangement constituted much of my efforts during the next two observation debriefings. Part of me wanted to require him to incorporate some of the changes we discussed. However, attempting to displace my motivations to understand more fully Derrick’s thoughts pulled me back from taking the dictatorial stance. Listening to Derrick’s viewpoint helped me understand the pressures he felt as a student teacher working under the direction of a veteran teacher. Derrick wondered about how his cooperating teacher would respond if he moved the desks out of rows: “Isn’t that saying that he’s not doing his job? You know what I mean? I try to limit that as much as possible” (Observation debriefing, March 16). Derrick continued to describe his struggle: “Is it my right to make that decision in someone else’s classroom? And that’s what’s been the hardest thing for me to grapple with in general” (March 16). In reference to his sensitivity to his cooperating teacher, I confirmed who Derrick was as a person. I commented that this trait could lend itself to developing positive relations with future colleagues. I did not mention the potential for adverse relationships because of his unwillingness to challenge a seeming perpetuation of social inequity. Perhaps this was another unintended cost of caring. In my deliberate actions to find something positive about Derrick’s choice to maintain the status quo, did I forfeit an opportunity to speak on behalf of his current and future students?

Looking back on the situation I am still uncomfortable about the fact that the seating chart remained a rather obvious representation of the students’ differing social statuses in the classroom. I would have preferred to see Derrick take a stand that would have reinforced the purposes that I envision for the social studies curriculum. I even offered words he could use with students:

“I don’t want those divisions to come into the classroom”… I think that’s a reasonable conversation you could have with students. “Our school, there’s a history of tension between different groups. My goal for this class—a social studies class…is to get practice communicating with each other.” (Observation debriefing, March 30)

My care for Derrick felt splintered. I chose to respect his decisions, but I also felt a need to speak to a moral purpose of social studies education. Reviewing the data makes me wish I had stressed the point further, to give him more practice assuming a different “moral stance” (Barton & Levstik, 2004) from which to view the situation. At the time, however, I felt like I was being repetitive and risked losing Derrick’s trust. Learning about Derrick’s point of view, though, did make it easier to accept the limitations of my role. It also enabled me to take into account his perspective while considering my next pedagogical moves.

Care as Collaboration: Prompting Student Engagement

Derrick’s desire to lead discussions continued to shape my pedagogical choices as his supervisor. From the beginning I noted room for improvement in his ability to invite students to participate. In the first observation debriefing I commented that he had asked one open-ended question and the rest had been rhetorical. I tied this into my summary notes of the lesson:

Think of different ways to ask students to demonstrate they grasp the material, such as have them explain their thoughts more, have them review the ideas out loud or on paper, have them write comments in which they respond to an open-ended question related to the content. (Observation notes, March 5)

We worked collaboratively for 9 min on writing questions that he could ask to prompt students to think about the material at hand while connecting it to their own experiences:

  • D: That’s where I feel like I struggle.

  • M: How to do that? What are the questions to ask?

  • D: Yeah.

I threw out a sample question:

  • M: If you were a Supreme Court Justice, what would be your favorite of these three things to do [choosing cases, hearing cases, making judgments]?

  • D: What criteria would you use to decide or something of that nature?

  • M: Yeah.

  • D: Whether or not you’re going to hear the case? (Debriefing, March 5)

Documenting the lesson closely gave us starting points from which we collaborated on ways to phrase questions. My engrossment and commitment facilitated this process. I had six pages of hand written notes in which I tried to follow as much of the class as I could. I gave Derrick copies of the notes to keep. Later he would tell me: “You were very detailed, and you didn’t improvise, you gave very helpful advice and provided me with the notes that you took… I just thought that was extremely beneficial (Exit interview, May 26).”

Derrick and I would practice more in my next two visits. Collaborating with him in this way affected his learning experience:

I think the questioning was kind of …our big task to tackle…And, I think you really were able to help me in the sense that you sat down with me and we actually developed actual questions rather than, “well, let’s take this approach and you develop the questions.” You know, there was actual concrete material that we were able to produce….Seeing what questions would actually look like and how they can be stated I think is a lot more beneficial for me… at least for me it worked better being able to throw ideas off someone else and come up with a concrete plan…I like that feedback. (Exit interview, May 26)

In the exit interview I asked him why he referred to the work on how to ask open-ended questions as “our” task. His response describes motivational displacement:

I think it’s because you were the one person that helped me with it and you continued to go back to it, three meetings and four meetings in. Um, so, it was, I guess it was my task that you were willing to also accept as yours. (Exit interview, May 26)

Collaborating with Derrick became a way to confirm his intentions as a beginning teacher. It also allowed us an opportunity to practice skills important for social engagement. I modeled collaboration, but also engaged Derrick in collaborative work. He said in the exit interview: “When we were brainstorming, we were also keeping in mind the diversity of the student population. We were, and I mean me and you, we were trying to take into account what their life experiences may have been.” (Exit interview, May 26). Our social interactions encouraged us to listen to each other, to ask each other questions, and for Derrick to clarify what he did not know about the technique of asking open-ended questions. In short, we were enacting part of the social studies curriculum. The data suggest, then, that Derrick gained experience in working collaboratively and thinking analytically about how his practice might build upon the perspectives of his students.

A Caring Cycle

The process of self-study shed light on the symbiotic relationship between my care for Derrick, his development as a teacher, and the reactions of his students. One topic in particular illustrates an area of growth for Derrick that relates back to his comfort level in the classroom and his ability to learn from his students’ responses. During my first site visit we briefly discussed where Derrick had stood when students entered the classroom. I raised the issue during our debriefing session: “Did you ever talk in your program about greeting students at the door? … It struck me that you were seated at the front” (Debriefing, March 5). Derrick mentioned that it was not in the culture of the school for teachers to stand by the door. I pleaded to his moral calling: “You could be that teacher. Think of what it’s like for the students.” We did not dwell on the topic for long. In fact, we moved on to other comments in my notes within a minute. What surprised me about this, however, is the fact that Derrick heeded my advice and he did so, reportedly because he experienced my care.

He described in his exit interview the two major adjustments he made in his teaching due to our work together. He recounted the brief suggestion after my first observation as a pivotal moment for him:

  • D: So, I think other than the questioning, the big thing was just to care for students. And, I was able to get greater, I think, by knowing that there was someone caring for me.

  • M: Yeah. I’m curious about how that might work.

  • D: I just, it might be just because when I was able to say “hello, how are you doing?” my classes would go a lot more smoothly.

  • M: They did?

  • D: Yeah. So, I don’t know. But, maybe you were modeling in that sense in showing that you care for me. And, I was like, “this is what I need to do for my students.”… But, it didn’t work out until you said “you should get out of your chair”…Because I think you were the one that kind of put it in the forefront for me.

  • M: Put what at the forefront?

  • D: Saying, you know, “talk to your students as they come into the classroom. Say hello to them, get out of the chair, the desk, that separation.” And, it carries a lot more weight when you are showing care to me.

  • M: Why? Or how?

  • D: Because that is how I operate. I think if you would tell me to do something and you didn’t do it in return for me, it wouldn’t carry much weight. (Exit interview, May 26)

My observation notes lend support to Derrick’s perception of his increased interactions with students. In particular, the Hmong students in the back of the room participated more over the course of my observations. During my second visit Derrick acknowledged three comments made by Hmong students, which represented 6% of all student comments in the class and during my last visit Derrick welcomed 27 comments offered by Hmong students into the class-wide discourse, representing 44% of all student participation. Similarly, my notes of where students sat showed a smaller physical separation between the Hmong students and the others in the class. On my last site visit, Hmong students ventured into the third and fourth rows whereas on my first two visits one sat in the fifth row and the rest sat in the sixth and seventh rows.

One conversation between Derrick and me illustrates his increasing comfort level and his ability to involve more students in class conversations. During the second debriefing we spent roughly 10 min celebrating two class-wide discussions he had facilitated earlier in the week. Derrick told me how he had asked open-ended questions and that students had shared their perspectives and tapped into their own experiences while talking about two controversial social issues: racial profiling and comparing student test scores across districts. Derrick continued by commenting on his limited experiences with diversity, having grown up in a white, middle class family and in a state with a small minority population. He said that he was able to learn about the students’ lives and cultures during these two conversations. Derrick thought about the value of hearing his students’ thoughts:

  • D: We talked so much about, in the [University] program, this gender balance [pause] multiple viewpoints [pause] and bringing in multiple viewpoints. And that is something I really struggle with is bringing in multiple viewpoints.

  • M: Okay. And a lot of people do.

  • D: It’s because, I think I mentioned it in my journal, this idea of coming from a population that’s not very diverse, where I didn’t think of all this. So it’s challenging for me to think about this information when presenting this information. But it helps a lot when students are willing to…

  • M: Yeah, edify you.

  • D: Yeah, that’s exactly right. It’s eye opening to me to hear some of the stories. (Debriefing, March 16)

Derrick’s experience with leading discussions on the controversial topics created opportunities for him to hear the perspectives of his students, who came from culturally and economically different backgrounds from his own. This moment is important because not only did Derrick gain insight into his students’ lives, he also began to understand more clearly what his professors had meant about the value of bringing multiple perspectives into the social studies curriculum. Derrick experienced first hand how listening to the perspectives of others could enhance his own learning.

Discussion

Caring for Derrick ethically meant that I tried to become engrossed in his ideas, follow his motivations, and commit myself to his development. It also meant that I tried to model care, engage in dialogue with Derrick, create opportunities for him to practice care, and confirm his best self according to his ideals. Caring ethically manifested itself when I tried to understand his perspective on why he did not force the students to mix themselves in the seating arrangement and when we worked collaboratively on phrasing questions to prompt more student engagement in substantive conversations.

Although I felt deeply disappointed about the continued segregation that occurred in the classroom, the data suggest that Derrick had experiences in which he learned from his students and considered the process a valuable part of his growth as a beginning teacher. I would offer that both attributes reveal aspects of his growing care for students. In the beginning of our relationship Derrick blamed students for the fact that they did not participate in class conversations. However, when he led the informal discussions about racial profiling and student test scores, Derrick demonstrated a willingness to value the personal stories of his students. The fact that he invited students’ viewpoints into the dialogue and saw them as valid, I would argue, puts him in a better place to expect his students to do the same. Derrick’s self-described discomfort in his student teaching placement created challenges for him as a beginning teacher. The framework of ethical care helped me cultivate a safe environment for Derrick to talk about and address the difficulties he faced, especially in the absence of a highly engaged cooperating teacher.

Implications

Our teacher education program expected Derrick to do such things as teach students to (1) consider multiple viewpoints and (2) collaborate with others, two skills among many the social studies community identifies as important. One implication of this study is that approaching Derrick from a stance of ethical care facilitated his understanding of and ability to enact these two skills, even in a setting that challenged him greatly. Student teachers often revert to more teacher-centered classroom activities when they are intimidated by students or simply feel uncomfortable leading. Providing caring support for Derrick aided him in his quest to tackle the risk of the urban school setting and to engage in more active learning experiences for his students. Thus, a pedagogy of care in student teaching supervision has the potential to reinforce for student teacher understanding of certain social studies skills as they occur in the field.

The Power of Self-Study for My Practice

This research suggests that self-study methodology has something to offer social studies education. Systematically documenting and analyzing the data and writing this case shed new light on my practice as a social studies student teaching supervisor. For one, I was not wholly cognizant of the degree to which my philosophy as a former social studies teacher impacted my work as Derrick’s supervisor. In addition, I did not appreciate the extent to which caring ethically for Derrick meant that my supervisory work was “learner-centered” in nature and that the implications of using his views to inform my practice supported specific skills in the social studies curriculum. In particular, reviewing the debriefing recordings brought to life the numerous examples of our collaborative efforts together. I simply had not realized how much we practiced writing questions to invoke student participation.

The self-study process also helped me learn about some of the ways I executed my responsibilities as a supervisor. For example, Derrick valued the detailed notes I took during my site visits. Before the study I wrote the notes because my supervisor had done so for me over 20 years ago and they fulfilled the program’s expectations. My new appreciation sees the notes as a physical artifact of my care for Derrick from which we could analyze his teaching practice. In addition, the study made me aware of a tension I felt when I tried to understand Derrick’s motivations and ideas. At times practicing ethical care restrained me and challenged my patience. Finally, the study also made me wonder about how my care for Derrick may have blurred my attention to larger issues like race, class, and equity. Armed with data from the debriefing transcripts, I was able to contemplate the value of specific pedagogical choices I made. Overall, self-study helped me understand how my pedagogy of care reinforced my interpretation of social studies education, one in which developing skills for living in a democracy matters.