Effective teaching in different cultural contexts: A comparative analysis of language, culture, and pedagogy

1. Introduction

Whaia te iti kahuranhi

Strive for the things in life that are important to you

This research project was developed as a part of the Teaching and Learning Research Initiative (TLRI) tender process that is managed by the New Zealand Council for Educational Research (NZCER). The project began with a collaborative team of Māori, Pasifika and Pākehā researchers, brought together with the intention of working across four different school contexts that included kura kaupapa Māori, schools in which Pasifika and Māori were culturally in the foreground and mainstream^[1] sites. Unanticipated changes to the composition of the research team occurred during project implementation and had a significant impact—these are detailed and discussed in section 2, part 2 and section 5. With respect to the four different school contexts, as researchers established relationships and deepened their knowledge, it became clear that the original categorisations used in the proposal did not reflect the realities. This is mapped out in section 4.

Aims and objectives

The project proposal noted the key aim of the research project as being:

to analyse a range of teaching practices for Māori and Pasifika students in Auckland city schools and conduct a comparative analysis of the teaching and learning of these students in classrooms that focus on Māori and Pasifika language and culture with classrooms where instructional practices focus on mainstreaming, and there is no, or limited input, of Māori and Pasifika language and cultural instruction. (Stoddart, Pihama, & Baba, 2003, p. 2)

Furthermore, the research sought to extend the current understanding of effective generic teaching practices by identifying the context-specific and general principles of effective teaching practice for Years 7 and 8 Māori and Pasifika pupils.

It became evident that the school that had originally been selected as the “mainstream” context provided a Māori bilingual unit which had a significant input into the overall school environment. The research began with working with a syndicate of Year 8 teachers that included the teachers of the Māori bilingual unit. The research focus for that school moved to one of working with the Māori bilingual teachers within the unit—after an initial series of data gathering activities with non-Māori teachers of the syndicate. As such, there was a shift in focus in that research case study from a study of mainstream generic programmes to a study of an approach that placed Māori in the foreground.

Prior educational research has tended to focus either on the relationship of social, cultural, and linguistic background factors to student educational performance or on general teaching strategies for teaching school subjects to all students (Darling-Hammond, 1996). From Māori, Pasifika, and social and cultural theoretical perspectives, however, these factors cannot be separated (Coxon, Anae, Mara, Samu, & Finau, 2001; Helu-Thaman, 1999; Hohepa, Smith, Smith, & McNaughton, 1992; Phillips, McNaughton, & McDonald, 2001; Pihama, 1996; Tharp & Gallimore, 1988; Vygotsky, 1978). There is increasing evidence that the integration of language, culture, and pedagogy are central to effective teaching and learning processes in school (Alton-Lee, 2003; Beecher & Arthur, 2001; Heath, 1982; Freedman & Daiute, 2001; Jones, 1991; Hohepa, Smith, Smith, & McNaughton, 1992; Nuthall, 1999; Stoddart, Pinal, Latzke, & Canaday, 2002). The calls are growing for a range of cultural approaches which allow for different ways of imparting knowledge.

Research questions

The original team of researchers proposed the following research questions:

• How do instructional practices and philosophy vary across four contexts: Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae, in which students are immersed in Māori language and culture; “culturally foregrounded” schools, where there are focused programmes and curriculum for Māori and Pasifika students; and a “mainstream” school, where generic programmes are designed to meet the needs of all students?
• Which principals of practice are common to these contexts and which are context-specific?
• Are there differences in Māori and Pasifika students’ learning outcomes and motivation across the four contexts?
• How do Māori and Pasifika students and parents from the four schools view effective teaching practices and is there consistency between these perspectives and school philosophy and practice?
• How do teacher characteristics (knowledge of students’ language and culture; views of learners; personal political and pedagogical perspectives; personal cultural identity; and professional education and experiences) vary across the contexts? How do such characteristics influence individual teachers instructional practices?
• What is the influence of subject matter on the development of culturally and linguistically responsive teaching practices?
• How does school culture influence and support the development of culturally and linguistically responsive pedagogy?

When these questions were formed, prior to entering each of the schools and kura, the intention was to collect comparable data from each site. However, because the research sites were vastly different, in ways that were not anticipated before the researchers became more involved within each context, some questions were more relevant than others, particularly in a kura kaupapa environment.

The research team established one overarching key research question to guide the studies in each of the four schooling sites and clarify the emphasis in this research project:

To what extent is culture (Māori and/or Pasifika) embedded in the teaching and learning processes at the school, and how in turn does that contribute to the development of culturally and linguistically responsive pedagogy?

This broad question helped shape the way researchers approached the various research activities.

Their intentions were:

1. To stay in line with a key purpose of the research, described in the proposal as identifying:

core principles underlying pedagogy that is culturally and linguistically responsive and to analyse how these principles are elaborated in classroom contexts that vary in the degree of emphasis placed on students’ language and culture—kura kaupapa Māori, in which students are immersed in Māori language and culture; culturally foregrounded where there are focused programmes and curriculum for Māori and Pasifika students; and mainstream where generic programmes are designed to meet the needs of all students. (Stoddart et al, 2003, p. 2)

Section 4 maps the knowledge and understandings gained in each school context in relation to this.

2. to contribute to the literature. This outcome is provided as a comprehensive literature review in section

3. to contribute to a wider research and academic agenda in regards to the building of research capacity that includes:

• the development of a cross-cultural, cross-disciplinary team of Māori, Pasifika and Pākehā scholars and practitioners who will collaborate to provide multiple lenses and perspectives on the integration of language, culture and teaching
• the mentoring and support of a group of emerging Māori and Pasifika scholars engaged in masters and doctoral programmes in the context of a large-scale empirical study
• the integration of research and practice, in the form of collaboration between researchers and practitioners informs both research and school policies and practice, and through the development of teacher education and curriculum resources.

Section 6 describes and discusses the outcomes related to capability and capacity building.

2. Research overview

E poto le Tautai a e se lana atu lama

The navigator is wise but can also be wrong

(Knowledge is never complete, there is always something more to learn)

Participating schools

The intention of this project was to carry out in-depth case study research in west Auckland as opposed to south Auckland. The main reason was that there had been limited research to date about Māori and Pasifika learners in settings:

• that focus on Year 8 learners (learners about to make the transition to secondary schooling— another specific area on which there is limited research)
• that are decile 3 (as opposed to the wealth of school-based research in decile 1 schools y that are located in west Auckland, as opposed to south Auckland (Waitakere city’s Pasifika populations are growing rapidly, ranking second highest in the Auckland region after the city of Manukau)
• wherein Māori and Pasifika learners make up significant-sized minorities in a culturally diverse student body.

It was intended that the project would include a kura kaupapa Māori in order to explore the relationship between culture and pedagogy in a context where it could be assumed that this did indeed exist in both philosophy and practice because of the unique historical development of the specific kura involved.

It was also the intention to approach schools fitting the general criteria outlined above that were known to be “good schools” (refer to section 3, part 3 and literature on the methodology known as “portraiture”). A number of “sources” were drawn on in order to identify four “good” decile 3 schools located in west Auckland with Year 8 learners. Ministry of Education data were used to create a list of possible schools, and senior colleagues in the university’s Faculty of Education and a former senior Ministry of Education official with specialist experience in Pasifika education projects were asked for their perceptions of schools fitting the general criteria. Members of the research team living in west Auckland drew on their general knowledge of wider community perceptions of schools on the list.

Four schools agreed to participate in the project: Henderson Intermediate; Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae; Avondale Intermediate; and Lincoln Heights. Table 1 provides a comparative overview of the participating schools. Brief descriptions of each school are given below.

Henderson Intermediate

Henderson Intermediate had a school population of 517 students from a diverse ethnic community of which Māori and Pākehā comprise the two highest groups at 28 percent each. The ethnic breakdown for the balance is: Samoan, 12 percent; Indian, 5 percent; Tongan, 5 percent; Korean, 4 percent; Chinese, 4 percent; Cook Island Māori, 3 percent; Niuean, 2 percent; Tuvaluan, 2 percent; and “other”, 7 percent. The school has a decile 3 rating and a teaching staff of 26. Most of the students come from Waitakere city; however, some students travel from the greater Auckland region to attend this school. This is reflected in the increased enrolments the school has experienced in the past 24 months which include a significant number of “out of zone” enrolments.

The research reveals that the Māori bilingual teaching staff have similar philosophical and professional ideals in their teaching practices. They have chosen to teach in the unit because they are Māori and, as Māori teachers, consciously chose to teach in a designated Māori space. Within the bilingual unit, the teachers have a strong desire to nurture and support the development of their students’ Māori identity. The unit enables them to teach within a partial Māori language and related cultural practice that is held within a solid Māori world view structure. There is a strong philosophical notion amongst the teachers that they are the facilitators of the learning process and thus teaching and learning takes place on a number of relational levels—between the teachers, between the teacher and the student; and between student and student.

According to the teachers, the bilingual unit exists in a supportive wider school context. Strong leadership has been a significant factor in the acceptance, growth, and participation of the wider school with Māori knowledge, culture, and other related Māori initiatives. Since 2004, the teaching staff have received extensive professional development pertaining to Māori curriculum and the school has actively engaged in the development of Māori programmes.

Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae

Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae was established in 1985. As part of Hoani Waititi Marae, a pan-tribal urban-based marae in west Auckland, the kura was part of the vision and aspirations of the community for “mātauranga Māori motuhake” (“full autonomy and status for Māori knowledge and values”). The kura was considered an integral part in providing “birth-to death” marae-based education, and therefore is closely connected to the philosophies of the Hoani Waititi Marae.

As the first kura kaupapa Māori in New Zealand, this community-driven kaupapa Māori initiative began outside of the state-funded system. It was officially recognised at the end of 1989 when an amendment to the Education Act 1989, Part 12, section 155 legislated the establishment of kura kaupapa Māori as special character schools.

Today the kura provides for Year 1 to Year 13 students. With a current roll of 277, the majority (69 percent) of the children come from outside the local area (more than 3.5 km radius). Most of the children are graduates of 10 köhanga reo and puna reo in the local district. The kura is categorised as a decile 3 school, and the children identify as Māori. Pākehā and other ethnic groups can enrol. Tipene Lemon was appointed as principal at the beginning of 2005. Like Tipene, most of the staff (70 percent) have whānau (children, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren) who attend the kura. One teacher has been on the staff since the inception of the kura, and four teachers are former students.

Te Aho Matua, the document that underpins all kura kaupapa Māori legally and, more importantly, philosophically is the “foundation document” (Mataira, 1997) of Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae and is fundamental to understanding how this kura functions. Te Aho Matua sets out the philosophies and creates the context where “being Māori” is a “taken for granted” norm at the kura. Ahuatanga ako (Māori pedagogies) is a significant part of Te Aho Matua. It involves the interaction of Māori cultural concepts at work. Whanaungatanga is one framework within which Māori pedagogy operates that goes beyond the teacher–student or teacher–parent relationships to a whānau-based relationship centred on the marae.

Avondale Intermediate

Avondale Intermediate serves a multi-ethnic community and is located in Avondale, a western suburb of Auckland city. The school has grown over the past four years (much of growth has been from out-of-zone enrolments), representing increased community confidence, and it now caters for 536 pupils. A large number of students come to Avondale Intermediate from Rosebank Primary School and the majority of students go on to attend Avondale College. The school’s special features include a special needs cluster unit (schools in the cluster provide a component of their Resource Teachers: Learning and Behaviour (RTLB) resource to provide a full-time RTLB on site at Avondale Intermediate), and Oaklyn Special School Satellite Unit, administered from Avondale Intermediate. The aim is to base these students in a mainstream school setting and, where appropriate, to “mainstream” students.

Avondale Intermediate has undergone significant structural and philosophical changes since 2001 when Rota Carrington became the principal. There have also been significant changes in staffing through this time, including an increase in Māori teachers. Avondale Intermediate currently employs 27 staff and has a decile rating of 3.

Over the past five years, the school has developed a well-articulated philosophy and culture that seeks to be positively responsive to its diverse multi-ethnic demographic. This demographic includes a large Pasifika population (Samoan, 23 percent; Tongan, 7 percent; Niuean, 4 percent; and Cook Island Māori, 5 percent); a growing Māori population at 20 percent; together with Chinese (7 percent), Indian (14 percent), and African (3 percent). Pākehā students comprise 12 percent of the school population (Education Review Office, 2005).

This cultural diversity is regarded as a school strength and is actively included and valued in the school. Tikanga Māori is also valued in the school and guides day-to-day school protocols and practices. The school culture is also strongly student-centred and has a range of practices and programmes designed to encourage student participation and the development of a range of high level thinking skills. These school priorities are well supported through whānau-based composite classrooms, wherein Year 7 and Year 8 students are combined. The school is also organised into whānau, each one named after a native tree, for example, Rimu and Kowhai. Each whānau has an associated colour and other symbols of identity.

Lincoln Heights School

Lincoln Heights School is a full primary (Years 1–8), decile 4 school located in Massey, Waitakere city. It has a staff of 26 teachers, and a school roll of 605 students, of whom 53 percent are male, and 47 percent female. Lincoln Heights is an ethnically diverse school, with 31 percent of the school roll Pākehā; 27 percent Māori; 27 percent Pasifika (15 percent Samoan, 4 percent Tongan, 3 percent Cook Island Māori, 2 percent Niuean, and 2 percent Fijian); 5 percent Asian; and “others”, including Middle Eastern, make up 13 percent of the roll. The school has a high number of children with ORRS (Ongoing and Reviewable Resourcing Schemes) funding. It has a reputation in this part of Waitakere city for being a school that caters well for special needs. Most of ORRS’s children are mainstreamed.

Teaching and learning programmes at Lincoln Heights reflect what its most recent Education Review Office (ERO) report (released in February 2006) describes as a “strong values base and an educational vision”. This has enabled the school to provide “an educational environment that is stimulating, inclusive and highly learner-centred” and teaching programmes that “strongly emphasise assisting students to become self-directed learners. Positive interpersonal relationships with staff and other adults are the foundation for teaching programmes” (ERO, 2006, pp. 2–3). The ERO report made reference to Lincoln Heights’ “long history of developing innovative approaches to teaching and learning” (2006, p. 2) but neither acknowledges nor names the deeply embedded theories and ideas of William Glasser underlying the school’s education vision, its teaching programmes, and its approach to management. Glasser (1992) developed an approach to the management of student behaviour that involved socialisation to the notion of quality.

Table 1 provides a comparative demographic overview of the four different contexts involved in this project. The most recent ERO report available for each school was sought from the ERO website to source the data included in the table. It must be noted that the kura figures include all levels of learning from new entrants through to the secondary levels. Lincoln Heights is a full primary so the figures will also include learners from other levels besides Year 7 and 8. During the development of the project proposal, Lincoln Heights was a decile 3 school.

Table 1 Demographic characteristics of the four schools

2. Pasifika-specific data is gathered for only three Pasifika cultural groups (Samoan, Tongan, Cook Islands) at this school. Data for students who identify as any other Pasifika cultural groups (e.g., Niue etc) are put together, as total numbers of students are very low.

Research design and methodologies

A detailed discussion of the project, its design and methodologies (particularly in relation to the strategic values of the TLRI, and for future research and development) can be found in sections 2 and 4. This part of the report will describe the research design and discuss the issues of significance to developing the kinds of relationships and partnerships that were of significance to the implementation of the project. Also included is a discussion about the barriers to implementation that were encountered.

Project design and methodological framework

The project was designed to address the overall research question in three parts (described as “phases” in the original TLRI proposal as well as in project’s application to the University of Auckland’s Human Participants Ethics Committee). These were:

• definition of effective teaching practice across schools and cultural groups
• documenting and analysing characteristics of culturally responsive teaching practices
• production of policy, practice, and research reports.

The primary means for gathering data (interviews, focus groups, analysis of school documentation, school observations, and classroom observations) were also intended to help develop collaborative relationships between researchers, practitioners, and community members, and shape the research project itself.

The collaborative relationships were not the only significant influence that shaped the research, particularly in terms of the specific approaches taken in the four different schools and kura. A number of key terms can be used to link the overall research framework and describe its “essence”. The terms are: ethnographic, case study, narrative, participant observer, and privileged observer.

Wolcott provides a concise description of ethnographic research as it pertains to education (1988). A multi-dimensional approach is employed involving a variety of data gathering techniques such as interviews, analysis of documents, and participant observation. However, for Wolcott, the determining feature of ethnographic research is the focus on how ordinary people make sense of the experiences of their own lives. This is facilitated through participant observation which involves reducing the distance between the researcher (as observer) and those participating by allowing themselves to be observed. Of the different participant styles that Wolcott describes, the privileged observer appears to be most like the role that the senior researchers developed in the three schools and the kura. Privileged observers become such by virtue of the relationships they form. As a consequence of mutual trust and respect, participants do more that give the researcher permission to observe and to query. They actively engage, support, and reveal more and more. The research process is much more of a shared enterprise, and involves conscious power sharing.

Other characteristics of ethnographic research, as described by Cohen, Manion, and Morrison (2000), that can be identified in this project include:

• “knower and known are interactive, inseparable”
• “behaviour and thereby data are socially situated, context-related, context-dependent and context-rich. To understand a situation researchers need to understand the context because situations affect behaviour and perspectives and vice versa”
• “inquiry is influenced by the choice of the paradigm that guides the investigation” y “inquiry is influenced by the choice of the substantive theory utilised to guide the collection and analysis of data and in the interpretation of findings”
• “inquiry is influenced by the values that inhere in the context”. (2000, pp. 137, 138)

Cohen, Manion, and Morrison also describe case studies as an approach to research. They state:

Case studies provide a unique example of real people in real situations enabling readers to understand ideas more clearly than simply presenting them with abstract theories and principles. … Case studies can penetrate situations in ways that are not always susceptible to numerical analysis. (2000, p. 181)

They describe a number of characteristics of case studies. The following resonate with the researchers in terms of this project. For example, a case study:

• “is concerned with a rich and vivid description of events relevant to the case” y “provides a chronological narrative of events relevant to the case” y “blends a description of events with the analysis of them”
• “focuses on individual actors or groups of actors and seeks to understand their perceptions of events”
• “[has a researcher who] is integrally involved in the case”
• “[attempts] to portray the richness of the case in writing up the report”. (2000, p. 182)

Finally, narratives involve an “emphasis on using the interplay between interviewer and interviewee to actively construct” (Cohen et al., 2000, p. 163). Narratives draw heavily on the words of the persons interviewed, and are often “backed up” by observations, interviews with others, and the study of relevant documentation.

The literature review contained within section 3, provides in-depth discussion on the methodological theories that informed the research in different contexts or settings.

Overview of research activities

A number of different research activities were used across the schools and kura. These were: interviews and focus groups; classroom observations; observation of selected school and community activities; the collection and analysis of documents; and the development of school purakau or portraits. The individual school case study, purakau, or portrait provides more detailed information about the research activities carried out within the school or kura. Section 4 maps out the four rich sources of new knowledge and information.

Relationships and partnerships: Issues of significance

There were a number of issues of significance to the establishment of critically important relationships and partnerships. The primary set of relationships was that between researchers and each school.

The process of establishing and developing school-based partnerships

Schools are not always willing to be involved in research projects. This may be due to having had poor experiences with research projects (Coxon et al., 2001, pp. 13–14) in the past or simply because schools and their teachers have demanding, time consuming responsibilities and very high professional expectations of themselves. For some principals, there may be an understandable reluctance to make a commitment to be involved in a research project, particularly a project that is presented as “pathology” (Lawrence-Lightfoot, 1983; Lawrence-Lightfoot & Davis, 1997); that is, a study of what is wrong—of identifying the causal factors of problems of teachers, their work, and the settings within which they work. The steps which the research team followed in the process of identifying schools, and making the initial approaches in order to be welcomed by the school management to come and collaborate with their staff, are listed below.

The research team enlisted the support of specific senior academic staff for an initial informal approach to selected schools. For example, the principal of one school had recently been a postgraduate student of one of the professors. Two members of the research team happened to be parents in the school community of the kura. The project was able to use pre-existing relationships for the initial approaches to three of the four schools. The relative importance of these networks cannot be underestimated. When formal approaches were made, it was with confidence that there would be a warm, interested, and prompt reception.

The fourth school was “cold” in that the research team had did not have informal networks or contacts with senior staff or management. The initial approach was made via a formal email about the project and a request for the opportunity to discuss it further with the principal. More time and effort was required in this school to establish credibility, given that the project team did not have the almost “instant” goodwill and even credibility that comes from a mutual, well-regarded acquaintance’s sponsorship.

A formal meeting was scheduled at each school with its principal or delegated senior management person (for example, deputy principal). Research team members who attended were: one of the three principal investigators, the senior researcher that would work with the school, and a research assistant. In addition to discussing the overall research project, and what would be involved with the partnership, the principal assigned a senior management team member to carry out a coordinating role between the project and school based activities (referred to as “the school research co-ordinator” or “the co-ordinator”).

A meeting with staff was organised for a later date. In two of the schools, the opportunity for the research team to speak to the staff as a whole about the project, and to field questions, was slotted into a scheduled after-school staff meeting. They were given a handout that summarised the research questions. These particular meetings were generally non-eventful—researchers left with the impression that staff in those meetings were tired and vaguely interested but preoccupied, with more immediate concerns. In one of the other schools, research team members were invited to a special late morning meeting with senior Year 7 and Year 8 staff, Pasifika board of trustee members, and the whole senior management team. All staff in attendance were focused and interested in the presentation. The discussion about the research project was robust.

After the formal meeting with the staff, a special meeting was scheduled with the teachers in the group or syndicate that school management had determined would work with the researchers. These were Year 8 teachers—due to the composite approach in one school, these were the teachers of Year 7 and 8 students. The groups were made up of four to five teachers, with the exception of the kura which had a much smaller number of students in their Year 8 programme, and hence had a smaller number of teachers to work with. The date and time for this meeting was suggested by the school co-ordinator. The research team prepared and delivered written invitations to attend afternoon tea with the researchers.

These meetings were well received. Again, tired teachers seemed to come into the staffroom out of a sense of duty and, at that point, without much in the way of a personal commitment or interest in the project. Having nice refreshments did appear to have an impact on the tenor of the meeting. The senior researchers ensured that they demonstrated awareness, sensitivity, and appreciation for the teachers’ time. As former classroom teachers themselves, this was not difficult. Their empathy was genuine.

The research team sought permission from the boards of trustees. Formal letters were presented (including a participant information sheet and consent letter). In some schools, a senior researcher attended one of the monthly meetings of the board of trustees to describe the project and answer any questions. In other schools, the opportunity for the senior researcher to interact with board of trustee members occurred later in the project. In some instances, interesting connections were made between researchers and one or more board members—for example, in one school, the senior researcher met an acquaintance from her former classroom teaching days, who was a parent member of the board of trustees.

Regular meetings with the syndicate or group of teachers were either scheduled or at least discussed. The stated purpose of such meetings was to discuss literature, organise classroom observations and interviews with teachers and, more importantly, create a collaborative research unit.

Nurturing confidence, establishing credibility and collegial acceptance in schools

Even after principals warmly and enthusiastically accepted the opportunity to be involved and delegated a senior management person to work directly with the project team, senior researchers were very careful about personalising their interactions with teachers. They did not want to assume that teacher participation was fine because the enthusiastic principal and deputy principal said it was so and wanted the teachers to be involved. welcomed

It was incredibly difficult to develop the kind of practitioner–researcher relationships where teachers were actively involved with the research process. It was hoped that the type of practitioner–researcher collaborations that would develop would have teachers engaged in reading and discussing literature, in addition to being observed teaching, being interviewed, and participating in discussions. A number of strategies were developed in order to address this, including:

• Developing a model for the project’s evolving structure and relationships between the various roles (see Appendix A).
• Making the literature informing the project accessible to busy teachers by means of writing “Pulse Points”. These were summaries of literature, each no more than four pages long. Altogether, six were written with the view that, in regular meetings with staff, these would be points of discussion. However, when it became very difficult to schedule and hold such meetings, the “Pulse Points” were passed to teachers via their pigeon holes in two of the schools. The informal feedback from teachers was that these were interesting—however, the full potential of these summaries remains unexplored.
• Scheduling meetings with group or syndicate staff that aligned with either their syndicate’s after-school meeting schedule, or the days after school that they did not have fixed school commitments.
• Ensuring there were refreshments (food and drink) when there were meetings. Again, senior researchers were always mindful that teachers are busy people and their involvement in this research project was in many ways an act of goodwill on their part.
• Giving personalised, on-the-spot responses, from senior researchers, to teacher and school needs. For example, in one school, the school co-ordinator had a minor car accident prior to a meeting with the senior researcher. His twin sons (pre-schoolers) who were passengers in the car were unsettled and fearful for some days after the incident. It was obvious that this was very much on the school co-ordinator’s mind. The senior researcher purchased a story book about a group of noisy, active dinosaurs and gave it to the co-ordinator to read to his sons in order to distract his boys. It was a gesture of sympathy and concern from one person to another.
• Providing teachers with a token gesture of appreciation, or “koha”, for their contribution. This was altered during the course of the project. The original plan (as discussed with principals) was that teacher relief would be given to the school for the time involved by their teachers.

However, rather than needing relief for teachers so they could be interviewed and their classes observed and so on, senior researchers decided that for commitment to a series of specific activities, teachers could select one of three options: a teacher release day that would be designated for their use (not the general staff pool), or $200 in book vouchers, or $200 towards a professional development course of their choice. The presentation of the koha was framed very carefully—it was not presented as an entitlement but rather as a gesture of genuine appreciation from the research project. Teachers in two of the schools selected book vouchers. In the kura, the preference was for a lump sum contribution to the school for an upcoming, whole-school professional development experience. A similar decision was made in the fourth setting, for the group of teachers involved.

This may not be a common practice for school-based research. However, due to the nature of the underlying qualitative research framework (which facilitated the development of in-depth knowledge of each school) and the inter-personal nature of the research–practitioner relationships (developed on mutual understanding and respect as professionals), the researchers were driven by the need to reciprocate in ways that would directly benefit and empower their school-based colleagues.

This method of koha was very well received. For example, in one school, upon receiving the book vouchers (their choice), the teachers purchased additional resources for use with their students (such as new books for their classroom book corners).

• providing participants (such as teachers and management) with transcriptions of interviews to review and give feedback. They were presented with the opportunity to amend or withdraw their comments. Because transcriptions were so literal, the general response was “Did I really say ‘um’ that many times?!” There was only one instance where a participant requested that the interview occur again, as she was not comfortable with what she had said in the transcript. The researchers believe that, in addition to being a feature of ethical practice, such an action (that is, giving transcripts to interviewees to check) was a means of validating and respecting participants, and ensuring the balance of power was not overly “tipped” towards the researchers.

Barriers encountered: Overwhelm and overcome

A series of highly significant barriers were experienced over the lifetime of the project, several being unanticipated and beyond the control of the research team, particularly the senior researchers. Some events had an immediate, obvious impact but they also had a sustained effect that was more subtle, less obvious, even insidious and overwhelming.

Major losses and changes in project (research) leadership

Half-way through the first year of the project (June 2004), one of the principal investigators left to attend conferences in the United States, and was expected back four weeks later. Her return was delayed by weeks, then months, due to the after-effects of a traumatic incident she was involved in. In the first week of December 2004, the project team received a direct communication from her that she would not be returning to New Zealand and had resigned from her position at the university. It was this principal investigator who had been the main driver of the research design and co-authored the proposal. She introduced portraiture as a methodology to the research team, but opportunities to share her knowledge with the senior researchers before she left were limited. Of the three principal investigators, she was the one that was going to be more “hands on” in the field, working alongside senior researchers and mentoring.

Finding a replacement was very difficult. Senior academic staff who had been involved in the development of the original proposal were, by and large, already committed elsewhere in terms of research, and understandably, the research design (already fixed in terms of being accepted as a project proposal, and “sealed” by the ethics committee process) was not something a new person could take on easily with any sense of ownership. The dilemma of a replacement was addressed by the recommendation of one of the remaining principal investigators that the project coordinator be “elevated” to the role of principal investigator, given that for six months she had been responsible for milestone reports and getting the school-specific relationships started in the schools (with the exception of the kura).

A second principal investigator left the project when his research fellowship with the university finished in the fourth quarter of 2005 and he returned to Fiji. The third principal investigator resigned from her position at the university early in 2006, before the final reporting for the project was completed.

Restructuring and institutional change within the university

When the project proposal was first submitted to the Teaching and Learning Research Initiative in 2003, the proposed research team consisted of academic staff and postgraduate students of the School of Education, located in the Faculty of Arts, University of Auckland. In September 2004, the university amalgamated with the Auckland College of Education. A new Faculty of Education was established, comprising the former Auckland College of Education and the former School of Education. Much of 2005 was “business as usual” for the two former institutions, although the pace of preparation for change began to accelerate in the second semester of that year. Researchers for this project found themselves in an organisation that embarked on a programme of profound, accelerated change which impacted on the professional circumstances of the senior researchers. This was to have a significant impact in terms of work loads and provided a severe challenge to what was possible for senior researchers to do in the field in 2005 and into 2006 with regards to final reporting.

Some of the professional changes in circumstances in terms of roles and responsibilities for individuals included: in 2005, one senior researcher took leave from employment for the whole year (but continued her commitment to this project), and submitted her resignation at the end of 2005. Another senior researcher, also the project co-ordinator and principal investigator, was promoted to a new and demanding management position within the new faculty, starting in October 2005. The absence of a fully involved, experienced senior academic staff member to lead, mentor, and provide an overarching monitoring role on the project became even more pronounced.

Schools: Predictable and unpredictable

Despite senior researchers having classroom experience, the senior researcher assigned to each school soon learned the extent to which their teacher-colleagues were busy people—hugely busy! Schools are undoubtedly systems of procedures, practices, and policies involving people. Teachers are people who get sick, they change jobs (as does management), they have to address sudden events involving students (for example, squabbles on the playground), and they do far more than teach students in classrooms. Sickness, sorrow, and even celebrations can impact unexpectedly on appointments for interviews, classroom observations, and so on. Other more traumatic events can affect the whole school community in profound ways, as well as affecting the “privileged observers” who have established a rapport with individual teachers. Take, for example, the sudden death of a participating teacher in one of the schools. The senior researcher involved with the school attended her funeral. The researcher was unable to touch the transcripts of the deceased teacher’s interviews and field notes for months afterwards. Perhaps it is the nature of the research framework developed and used within each school that made the unexpected events or barriers to the research even more problematic, and even overwhelming.

Māori and Pasifika research assistants and project administrators: A puddle not a pool

It was the intention of the project to develop capacity and capability of emerging Māori and Pasifika researchers (discussed in more detail in section 6). However, the project found that there was a significant shortage of appropriate, qualified researchers and research assistants when original researchers and research assistants left the project due to changes in their personal and professional circumstances. The departure of one of the original senior researchers in the middle of 2004 was not addressed until 2005, when a doctoral student of Fijian heritage was employed as a senior researcher up until her return to Fiji in August. A Māori post-graduate student was employed when a senior researcher took leave from her University position for a year, in 2005 as well. Each of the research assistants left, and finding suitable replacements with access to their own transport was so difficult that the effort to search for such support was given up.

Culturally grounded ethical issues and responses

Research ethics and principles are discussed in the literature review in section 3. Areas of debate regarding ethical issues, particularly in terms of different cultural perspectives (including institutional or organisational perspectives) included:

• acknowledging teachers and their expertise and skills via koha that truly reflected the givers’ respect for teachers professional expertise and contributions
• locating a Pasifika research agenda in relation to a Māori research agenda. At times, there were tensions which needed careful and sensitive negotiating.

3. Literature review

To understand is hard. Once one understands, action is easy.

Sun Yat Sen, 1866–1925

This project has been informed by research-based literature in the following broad areas:

• culturally based research paradigms, models and methodologies
• literature, based on the New Zealand and United States contexts, on diversity in education and culturally responsive pedagogies (or, more appropriately for the New Zealand context, “responsiveness to diversity framework”).

The literature in this section has been organised into a number of subsections:

• kaupapa Māori (principles and practices that have resulted in methodological developments known broadly as kaupapa Māori research)
• Pasifika research ethics and principles (which are informing new and emerging approaches to research that foster a greater sense of ownership by the Pasifika researchers and participants involved)
• portraiture as a qualitative methodology
• diversity and multicultural education in the context of the United States y “responsiveness to diversity framework” in the context of New Zealand.

Recalling, reviewing, and reconstructing cultural ways of research

Kaupapa Māori

Kaupapa Māori principles and practices have been instrumental in the methodological development of this research. Graham Hingangaroa Smith (1997) stresses the need for kaupapa Māori principles to be in active relationship with practice. Linda Tuhiwai Smith (2000) also emphasises the need for kaupapa Māori methodologies to provide frameworks for understanding what is happening in the domain of Māori education, whilst simultaneously interrogating other research methodologies and their contribution to understanding what is happening in education in this country. She advocates the need to construct research maps that extend our research horizons:

What maps should qualitative researchers study before venturing onto such [tricky] terrain? This is not a trick question but rather one that suggests that we do have some maps. We can begin with all the maps of qualitative research we currently have, then draw some new maps that enrich and extend the boundaries of our understandings beyond the margins. We need to draw on all our maps of understanding. Even those tired and retired maps of qualitative research may hold important clues such as the origin stories or genealogical beginnings of certain trends and sticking points in qualitative research. (2005, p. 102)

Here Linda Smith is suggesting that we should not be limited to current and popular research practices (whether it be qualitative or quantitative), but must recall, review, and reconstruct our cultural ways of research so that we can better unravel and begin to change the multiplicity of things that negatively affect our lives. Kaupapa Māori contributes to that role in this research, in that it provides a framework from which to engage and select other research maps to use within the research process. “Portraiture” is another methodological approach which is discussed in the following section.

In order to locate the research findings outlined in this report, a key notion that must first be engaged is that of kaupapa Māori. Kaupapa Māori is a term that has its origins in a history that reaches back thousands of years. It is not a new term. The term “kaupapa” is outlined in some depth by Mereana Taki (1996, p. 17) who writes:

Kaupapa is derived from key words and their conceptual bases. Kau is often used to describe the process of ‘coming into view or appearing for the first time, to disclose’. Taken further kau may be translated as ‘representing an inarticulate sound, breast of a female, bite, gnaw, reach, arrive, reach its limit, be firm, be fixed, strike home, place of arrival’ (H. W. Williams c. 1844–1985, p. 464). Papa is used to mean ‘ground, foundation base’. Together kaupapa encapsulates these concepts, and a basic foundation of it is ‘ground rules, customs, the right of way of doing things’.

Sheilagh Walker (1996) has also discussed kaupapa Māori. For Walker, “kaupapa” is the explanation that gives meaning to the “life of Māori”. It is the base on which the super-structures of Te Ao may be viewed. Māori are tangata, born into a geophysical cultural milieu. Kaupapa Māori becomes kaupapa tangata. What evolves is this—He aha te mea nui o te Ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata. In essence, this whakatauki explains kaupapa Māori.

Tuakana Nepe (1991, p. 15) discusses kaupapa Māori in relation to the development of kura kaupapa Māori. She states that kaupapa Māori is the “conceptualisation of Māori knowledge” that has been developed through oral tradition. This is the process by which the Māori mind “receives, internalises, differentiates, and formulates ideas and knowledge exclusively through Te Reo Māori.” Nepe situates Māori knowledge specifically within te reo Māori. Kaupapa Māori knowledge is not to be confused with Pākehā knowledge or general knowledge that has been translated into Māori. Kaupapa Māori knowledge has its origins in a metaphysical base that is distinctly Māori. As Nepe states, this influences the way Māori people think, understand, interact, and interpret the world.

For Nepe, Māori knowledge is esoteric and tuturu Māori. It validates the Māori world view and is owned and controlled by Māori through te reo Māori. Te reo Māori is the only language that can access, conceptualise, and internalise in spiritual terms this body of knowledge. From this, it can be taken that Māori language and kaupapa Māori knowledge are inextricably bound. One is the means to the other. Ka penei te kōrero a Nepe:

Kei te tino marama tatou katoa ma te reo Māori anake ka taea te whawha atu i te hohonutanga me tuturutanga o nga mātauranga o nga matua, tipuna. Kotahi anake te huarahi. Korerotia, korerotia, korerotia te reo ki a tatou tamariki i nga wa katoa. Whangaitia, whangaitia, whangaitia o ratou wairua Māori. Kahore e taea e nga ture Pakeha. Kahore e taea e te reo Pakeha. Ma te reo Māori anake ka tutuki nga moemoea katoa mo a tatou tamariki. (1991, p. 15)

Nepe’s writing argues for the significance of kaupapa Māori as an educational intervention system to address the Māori educational crisis and to ensure the survival of kaupapa Māori knowledge and te reo Māori.

The writing of Graham Smith is instrumental here. Smith’s academic writing spans ten years. His 1997 text, The Development of Kaupapa Māori Theory and Praxis, is pivotal. The centrality of te reo Māori me ōna tïkanga is also highlighted by Smith (1997). He identifies and discusses three key themes within the kaupapa Māori paradigm—the validity and legitimacy of Māori; the survival and revival of Māori language and culture; and Māori autonomy over their own cultural wellbeing and their own lives.

This locates te reo Māori me ōna tïkanga as critical elements in any discussion of kaupapa Māori principles and practices and is in line with the assertions made by Nepe that Māori language must be viewed as essential in the reproduction of kaupapa Māori. Expanding the discussion of what constitutes kaupapa Māori principles and practices in a changing world has been the focus of many Māori people involved in research and development of Māori programmes in the various sectors. It is noted, however, that in regard to national developments the area of Māori education has been crucial. The developments of te kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa Māori have placed Māori in a position where what is kaupapa Māori , and its importance and significance, is responsive to the identification of Māori pedagogical practices that have been made. This has brought to the fore debates over various kupu, tïkanga, and kawa and how they are best located as kaupapa Māori practice.

Kaupapa Māori knowledge permeates each of the components of kaupapa Māori education including te kōhanga reo, kura kaupapa Māori, kura kaupapa Māori teaching training, the development of kura kaupapa Māori resources, whare wānanga and whare kura. Graham Smith (1997) outlines kaupapa Māori as a term used by Māori to describe the practice and philosophy of living a “Māori” culturally informed life. In essence, this is a Māori world view which incorporates thinking and understanding. Māori writers and academics from several different disciplines have articulated the importance, centrality, validity, and the imperative to guarantee the survival of te reo Māori.

Following on from Nepe, Taina Pohatu (1996) advances the argument that cultural underpinnings of whenua and whakapapa are imperative to ensure cultural transmission and acquisition (socialisation). His work, entitled I Tipu ai Tātau i nga Turi o Tātau Matua Tipuna, is a statement of cultural re-centering and emancipation.

Kaupapa Māori has emerged as a discourse and a reality, as a theory and a praxis directly from Māori lived realities and experiences. One of those realities is that for more than a century and a half, the New Zealand education system has failed the majority of Māori children who have passed through it. Kaupapa Māori as an educational intervention system was initiated by Māori to address the Māori educational crisis and to ensure the survival of kaupapa Māori knowledge and te reo Māori.

The term “theory” has been deliberately co-opted by Graham Smith (1997) and linked to “kaupapa Māori” in order to develop a counter-hegemonic practice and to understand the cultural constraints exemplified within critical questions such as “what counts as theory?” Smith challenges the narrow, eurocentric interpretation of “theory” as it has been applied within New Zealand education.

Sheilagh Walker (1996) also unpacks the history of Western philosophy, choosing to locate kaupapa Māori within a distinctly theoretical terrain that is Māori initiated, defined and controlled. Kaupapa Māori theory has had the dual effect of providing both the theoretical “space” to support the academic writing of Māori scholars as well as being the subject of critical interrogation, analysis and application.

Russell Bishop and Ted Glynn (1999, p. 61) refer to kaupapa Māori as the “flourishing of a proactive Māori political discourse”. For these writers, kaupapa Māori is a movement and a consciousness. Since the 1980s, with the advent of te kōhanga reo, kaupapa Māori has become an influential, coherent philosophy and practice for Māori conscientisation, resistance and transformative praxis, advancing Māori cultural and educational outcomes within education. As Graham Smith (1997) outlines, kaupapa Māori theory is still in the formative stages despite the appearance of the term within discussion forums in the 1980s when the Department of Education was attempting to introduce “taha Māori” into the curriculum.

As Graham Smith (1997) has articulated, kaupapa Māori initiatives develop intervention and transformation at the level of both “institution” and “mode”. The mode can be understood in terms of the pedagogy, the curriculum, and evaluation. The institutional level is the infrastructural component and involves economics, power, ideology, and constructed notions of democracy. Kaupapa Māori challenges the political context of unequal power relations and associated structural impediments. Smith makes the point, however, that transforming the mode and the institution is not sufficient. It is the political context of unequal power relations that must be challenged and changed. In short:

Kaupapa Māori strategies question the right of Pākehā to dominate and exclude Māori preferred interests in education, and asserts the validity of Māori knowledge, language, custom and practice, and its right to continue to flourish in the land of its origin, as the tangata whenua (indigenous) culture. (1997, p. 273)

Kaupapa Māori thus challenges, questions and critiques Pākehā hegemony. It does not reject or exclude Pākehā culture. It is not a “one or the other” choice. As Graham Smith (1997) states, the theoretical boundaries of kaupapa Māori have been tested, interrogated, and reflected upon by the Māori community and the Auckland academic group, and disseminated locally and internally. To put it succinctly, at the core of kaupapa Māori is the catch-cry “to be Māori is the norm”.

Key intervention elements in kaupapa Māori

The Māori Education Commission (1999), in its third report, discussed several intervention and success factors that underlie kura kaupapa Māori. The factors identified are:

• tino rangatiratanga
• emancipatory model
• visionary approach
• Māori knowledge validation
• akonga Māori: Māori pedagogy
• school kawa
• whānau control
• kia piki ake i ngā raruraru o te kainga.^[3]

Identifying these elements provides indicators as to key elements underpinning kaupapa Māori developments. These elements also lean heavily on the work of Graham Smith (1997), who outlines also six of the seven areas identified by the Māori Education Commission. That work is foundational in the development of analyses regarding kaupapa Māori in education and therefore deserves in-depth discussion.

Graham Smith (1997) highlights six intervention elements that are an integral part of kaupapa Māori and which are evident in kaupapa Māori sites. These are:

• tino rangatiratanga (the “self-determination” principle)
• taonga tuku iho (the “cultural aspirations” principle)
• ako Māori (the “culturally preferred pedagogy” principle)
• kia piki ake i nga raruraru o te kainga (the “socioeconomic” mediation principle)
• whānau (the extended family structure principle)
• kaupapa (the “collective philosophy” principle).

These principles are also articulated by other writers and therefore an overview of each is provided.

Tino rangatiratanga: The “self-determination” principle

The principle of tino rangatiratanga goes straight to the heart of kaupapa Māori. It has been discussed in terms of sovereignty, autonomy and mana motuhake, self-determination and independence. Situated within the Treaty of Waitangi, it is the antithesis of kawanatanga. The principle of tino rangatiratanga has guided kaupapa Māori initiatives, reinforcing the goal of seeking more meaningful control over one’s own life and cultural well-being. A crucial question remains—can tino rangatiratanga be achieved within existing Pākehā-dominated institutional structures? Te kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa Māori, for example, were started outside of conventional schooling explicitly in order for Māori to take control of their destiny.

The theory and praxis of tino rangatiratanga will be discussed in relation to other mainstream services for Māori including kaupapa Māori justice, kaupapa Māori health, kaupapa Māori housing, kaupapa Māori employment and other social services. In the area of health, Mason Durie (1998) relates that in the 1980s, tino rangatiratanga became part of the new Māori health movement where health initiatives were claimed by Māori as their own.

Taonga tuku iho: The “cultural aspirations” principle

A kaupapa Māori framework asserts a position that to be Māori is both valid and legitimate and in such a framework to being Māori is taken for granted. Te reo Māori, mātauranga Māori, tikanga Māori and ahuatanga Māori are actively legitimated and validated.^[4] This principle acknowledges the strong emotional and spiritual factor in kaupapa Māori, which is introduced to support the commitment of Māori to intervene in the educational crisis.

Ako Māori: The “culturally preferred pedagogy” principle

This principle promotes teaching and learning practices that are unique to tikanga Māori. There is an acknowledgment of “borrowed” pedagogies. Māori are able to choose their own preferred pedagogies. Rangimarie Rose Pere (1982) writes in some depth on key elements in Māori pedagogy. In her publication Ako she provides expansive discussion regarding tikanga Māori concepts and their application to Māori pedagogies.

Kia Piki Ake i Nga Raruraru o Te Kainga: The “socioeconomic” mediation principle

This addresses the issue of Māori socioeconomic disadvantage and the negative pressures this brings to bear on whānau and their children in the education environment. This principle acknowledges that despite these difficulties, kaupapa Māori mediation practices and values are able to intervene successfully for the wellbeing of the whānau. The collective responsibility of the Māori community and whānau comes to the foreground.

Whānau: The “extended family structure” principle

The principle of whānau, like tino rangatiratanga, sits at the heart of kaupapa Māori. The whānau and the practice of whanaungatanga is an integral part of Māori identity and culture. The cultural values, customs, and practices which organise around the whānau and “collective responsibility” are a necessary part of Māori survival and educational achievement.

Within the writings outlined in this literature review, there are many examples where the principle of whānau and whanaungatanga come to the foreground as a necessary ingredient for Māori health, Māori justice and Māori prosperity. One of the most potent examples of whānau can be seen in the dynamic organisation known as Te Whānau o Waipareira. This organisation came into being in 1981, becoming a charitable trust in 1984. The origins of the whānau, however, date back to the 1940s and 1950s when Māori urbanisation occurred.

Kaupapa: The “collective philosophy” principle

Kaupapa Māori initiatives in Māori education are held together by a collective commitment and a vision. Te Aho Matua is a formal charter which has collectively been articulated by Māori working in kaupapa Māori initiatives. This vision connects Māori aspirations to political, social, economic, and cultural well-being.

Leonie Pihama (1993) has also written extensively on kaupapa Māori theory. For Pihama, inherent in kaupapa Māori theory is an intrinsic critique of power structures in Aotearoa that historically have constructed Māori people in binary opposition to Pākehā, reinforcing the discourse of Māori as the “other”. Kaupapa Māori theory aligns itself with Critical Theory in that it seeks to expose power relations that perpetuate the continued oppression of Māori people.

Pasifika research principles and values

Introduction

The Pasifika researchers involved with this project were guided by specific values and principles. Their approach to various research activities and the structure of the overall project was influenced by their own culturally-based articulations of principles such as reciprocity, respect, and contribution. This part of the section identifies and articulates the Pasifika researchers’ approach to the research.

The metaphor

“Fale” is the Samoan word for house. Traditional Samoan fale construction, particularly of ceremonial fale, is an architectural and cultural art form developed over many hundreds of years, and is unique to this part of Polynesia. The fale tele (round house) is one form of ceremonial meeting house. Its basic structure shapes the metaphor for the set of ethical principles and values that informed this project’s Pasifika researchers’ practices.

A fale tele has between one to three centre posts, on the top of which is fixed the vaulted roof. When the centre posts or poutu are set and upright, they become part of the skeletal structure that firstly, sets the height of the fale, and secondly, enables the builders to construct the frame of the fale both above and below the poutu. Raising the poutu is like the laying of a cornerstone of a significant European-style building, for example a church or cathedral. This is such a key part of the fale construction that a feast is held to mark the event.

Following this, the ridge post is placed on top of the poutu and the process of constructing the complicated rafters and arches of the vaulted roof begins. Another “remarkable aspect of the fale tele design” (UNESCO, 1992, p. 43) is that when the wall posts are put into place, few of them are actually necessary for supporting the roof. According to a UNESCO resource:

the ultimate proof of the master builder’s skill would be to let the fale remain in the form of the umbrella it emulates at the outset. Wall posts are not structural necessities. (1992, p. 43)

A Pasifika paradigm

The poutu provide the fale tele with structural strength. An explicit set of principles to inform research practice provides the integral strength for Pasifika researchers—it is the source of their integrity, even mana as Pasifika researchers. This in turn shapes their sense of place, and even ownership, to a certain extent, over the research processes. The principles justify the ways that relationships were developed and nurtured within the project.

The poutu set the height of the fale or project. The height of the centre of the fale determines the expanse of the building—both vertically and horizontally. Three principles, articulated from a Pasifika perspective, set the aspirations—visions, even—for the outcomes of the project. These are visions about accelerating achievement for Pasifika learners, and promoting the social and economic development of their communities, their peoples. These are lofty visions and ideals. In a mainstream tertiary context, the research capacity of researchers is increasingly being determined by constructs such as Performance Based Research Funding (PBRF); however Pasifika researchers’ visions do not include PBRF measures of research outputs, personal academic career advancement, or potential publications. While these are important, they cannot set the heights of the fale or project. They are far too low. The concept of poutu provides a Pasifika-based conceptualisation of what constitutes appropriate measures and relationships within Pasifika research processes and has informed the Pasifika research approach to this TLRI project.

The expanse of the project, its potential area of impact and change, is determined by how the principles have been articulated and embedded in the project’s overall design and structure, and how closely Pasifika researchers have used these principles as a reference point during project implementation. The primary principles and values that have influenced Pasifika researchers are reciprocity, respect, and contribution.

Sources of the poutu approach to research

The Ministry of Education contracted Coxon, Anae, Mara, Wendt Samu and Finau to develop its Pasifika Education Research Guidelines, which was released in 2002. Other sectors have since developed and released guidelines with similar intents and purposes; for example, the Health Research Council (2004) and the Tertiary Education Commission (2003, for the Performance based Research Fund).

According to the Ministry of Education guidelines, Pasifika research needs to begin by:

identifying Pacific values and the way in which Pacific societies create meaning, and structure and construct reality. (Coxon, Anae, Mara, Samu, & Finau, 2002a, p. 7)

Identifying values and articulating them from a Pasifika perspective is of crucial importance because the creation of relevant meanings for Pasifika participants, and of Pasifika researchers themselves, will engender a strong sense of ownership and personal commitment. This will lead to an improved alignment between the personal–professional values of the individuals involved, and the values that are embedded in the project design, structure and implementation.

The Health Research Council’s research guidelines express similar views on the role of Pasifika research and its starting point. According to the Health Research Council, the primary role of Pasifika research is to:

generate knowledge and understanding both about, and for, Pacific peoples. (Health Research Council of New Zealand, 2004. p. 11)

However, both the Ministry of Education guidelines and the Health Research Council guidelines include statements about the way Pasifika research should be designed and structured as projects.

For example, the Ministry of Education guidelines, in the section about “research teams”, not only describes the possible types of research teams that can come under the banner of “Pasifika research” but also states that Pasifika management and control must be evident in any research project, at all levels.

The Health Research Council guidelines are more explicit and comprehensive:

Pacific research requires the active involvement of Pacific peoples (as researchers, advisors and stakeholders) and demonstrates that Pacific people are more than just the subjects of research. Pacific research will build the capacity and capability of Pacific peoples in research, and contribute to the Pacific knowledge base. (Health Research Council, 2004, p. 11)

The Health Research Council guidelines illustrate the continuum of possible structures for research projects, which have varying degrees of Pasifika participation, including decision making and management roles and positions. The structures range from “Pacific relevance” to “partnership” through to “governance” (2004, p. 6). The Health Research Council guidelines appear to advocate that the ideal structure for projects is one where there is Pasifika governance— that is, the team is Pasifika-led, applies Pasifika paradigms and models, focuses on Pasifika populations, has Pasifika outcomes and exhibits Pasifika ownership.

The Ministry of Education and Health Research Council guidelines identify and discuss “common Pacific values” (Anae et al., 2001, p.14) or “ethical principles of Pacific Health research” (Health Research Council of New Zealand, 2004, p.12). For the Ministry of Education guidelines, the common Pasifika values are: respect, reciprocity, communalism, collective responsibility, gerontocracy, humility, love, service, and spirituality. For the Health Research Council, the ethical principles are: relationships, respect, cultural competency, meaningful engagement, reciprocity, utility, rights, balance, protection, capacity building, and participation. The Tertiary Education Commission’s Performance Based Research Fund produced a set of draft guidelines for assessing evidence portfolios that include Pasifika research. Included in the guidelines was an elaboration of its definition of Pasifika research. According to Tertiary Education Commission, Pasifika research must demonstrate “some or all of the following characteristics and should show a clear relationship with Pacific values, knowledge bases and a Pacific group or community” (2003, p. 2). The characteristics are: paradigm, participation, contribution, and capacity/capability.

It can be argued that what Tertiary Education Commission describes as “characteristics” are also principles, and have a degree of congruence with the some of the “Pacific values” described by the Ministry of Education guidelines, and some of the ethical principles identified and described by the Health Research Council guidelines.

Pasifika researchers and the poutu for this project

The primary principles and values for the Pasifika researchers in this project were reciprocity, respect and contribution. This is how they articulated the principles and values in terms of the research activities and processes they were involved with. As a consequence, the research became Pasifika research.

In terms of reciprocity, Pasifika research involves:

• the perspective that involvement in the research project was a way to serve professional and cultural communities and groups
• the recognition and validation of the relationships between the researcher and the “researched”. Such recognition requires taking, even creating, opportunities to “give” at the site of the interactions; for example, giving mealofa (in this case, personal money in an envelope at the funeral of one of the teacher participants; responding to the request from school management to present a seminar about the research as a part of their Education Review Office review)
• accepting and honouring the responsibility and duty that comes with development of relationships of mutual respect and support.

In terms of respect, Pasifika research:

• demonstrates that Pasifika people (learners, teachers, parents) and others are more than just subjects of research; for example, changing the recognition of teacher involvement from paid teacher relief days to the school to three options for teachers to select (teacher relief for the specific teacher; koha of book vouchers; contribution to a professional development experience of their choice)
• involves the active participation of Pasifika peoples (as researchers, assistants, and project managers)
• is sensitive and responsive to contextual shifts and changes; for example, the unexpected changes to scheduled events due to ill-health of a participant, or to school events
• will acknowledge tangata whenua as tuakana in collaborative research partnerships such as this project, and respond accordingly, informed by Pasifika notions of humility
• actively seeks to accommodate data gathering activities and requirements to the participants’ schedules and programmes.

In terms of contribution, Pasifika research:

• has an impact on Pasifika communities, including small communities of Pasifika teachers within a staff
• contributes to and enhances the Pasifika knowledge base in all areas: for example, research methodology, ethics, and principles; teaching and learning and diversity
• contributes to a greater understanding of Pasifika cultures, experiences, and multiple world views including the socio-cultural experiences within school communities y is relevant and responsive to the needs of Pasifika peoples
• contributes to Pasifika knowledge, spirituality, development, and advancement y is responsive to changing Pasifika contexts.

What is clear is that the principles or the poutu that have influenced the approach to research for Pasifika researchers has enabled connections of new knowledge, understandings, perspectives, and relationships. This has heightened the level of Pasifika ownership within this project.

Portraiture: A methodological approach

As noted in the project outline, this research project involved the development of a “snapshot”, or portrait, of each participating school. In order to develop such a picture, information was collected on school policy, procedures, practice, and processes, and researchers visited as many school events and activities as possible, such as staff meetings, festivals, and sports activities. This section of the literature review engages with the notion of “portraiture”. While some may see the case studies in this research as providing a “snapshot” of a schooling context, it is our view that the term “portrait” is a more accurate description than “snapshot” or “picture”, because it signifies a greater time scale and more elaborate effort—portraits take time and effort to produce—and the process of developing an emerging image is a source of learning in itself in addition to the final piece of art.

The development of a school “portrait” reflects the portraiture method developed by American educational researcher, Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot, of Harvard University. According to Dixson, Chapman, and Hill:

ortraiture is best described as a blending of qualitative methodologies—life history, naturalist inquiry, and most prominently, that of ethnographic methods. (2005, p. 17)

Lawrence-Lightfoot uses the methodology of portraiture to present six portraits of high schools in the United States in her book The Good High School: Portraits of Character and Culture (1983). Through detailed school descriptions, the author seeks to capture each school’s individual culture: its essential features, generic character, the values that define its curricular goals and institutional structure, its individual styles and ritual. In creating these portraits, Lawrence-Lightfoot attempts to trace and understand the connections between the individual and the institution—how its inhabitants create the school’s culture and how they, in turn, are shaped by it, and how individual personality and style influence the collective character of the school. Through this type of research and representation, Lawrence-Lightfoot presents a new understanding of schools as “cultural windows”.

Lawrence-Lightfoot’s approach to understanding specific school contexts is both a methodology and a philosophy in itself. According to Lawrence-Lightfoot:

The portraits in this book are not drawn, they are written. They do not present images of a posed person but descriptions of high schools inhabited by hundreds, thousands of people…. On each canvas in broad strokes, I sketch the backdrop. The shapes and figures are more carefully and distinctively drawn, and attention is paid to design and composition.… Individual faces and voices are rendered in order to tell a broader story about the institutional culture. The details are selected to depict and display general phenomena about people and place. I tell the stories, paint the portraits—‘from the inside out’. (1983, pp. 6-7)

Lawrence-Lightfoot draws heavily on the medium of art to explain and describe the philosophy underlying her portraiture method. For example, in terms of real portraits and the work of artists, she stated:

The portraits captured essence: the spirit, tempo, and movement … portraits tell you about parts of yourself that you are unaware of…or to which you haven’t attended. (1983, p. 5)

[P]ortraits make subjects feel ‘seen’ in a way that they have never felt seen before, fully attended to , wrapped up in an empathetic gaze. (1983, p. 5)

Artists recognize the humanity and vulnerability of the subject…the artist’s gaze searches for the essence, relentless as it tries to move past the surface images…in finding the underside, in piercing the cover, in discovering the unseen, the artist offers a critical and generous perspective—one that is both tough and giving. (1983, p. 6)

Art is used as a metaphor for the observation, interviewing, and writing process that the researchers will go through in order to “draw” what they see and what they learn in schools. The process was one through which Lawrence-Lightfoot sought to present some of the features of each of the schools, a process which she describes as follows:

I hoped to create portraits that would inspire shock and recognition in the subjects and new understandings and insights in the viewers/readers.… My concern became how I would translate the lines and shapes into written images and representations. (1983, p. 6, emphasis added)

Throughout her book, Lawrence-Lightfoot explores the notion of “goodness” and the idea of “effective” schools. Each portrait examines “goodness as a holistic dimension whose interpretation requires an embedded-ness in the context” (1983, p. 24), yet she simultaneously recognises that goodness is imperfect and changing. Lawrence-Lightfoot describes the various ways goodness was expressed in the six schools she examined and summarises the themes that emerged from the research. In each school, intriguing and important lessons about educational goodness were found, and the lessons that Lawrence-Lightfoot drew most prominently from her research focused on leadership and professional development, and the nurturance of teachers.

The portraiture method is appealing because it promotes the development of real relationships with those involved—“relationships that, if nurtured carefully and sincerely, reflect the qualities of empathetic regard, full and critical attention and discernment” (Lawrence-Lightfoot, 1983, p. 6). Other researchers concur. According to Waterhouse:

The particular aspects of portraiture that resonate most strongly with me connect with my beliefs and values. I am drawn to an approach that attends fully and respectfully to the subject with a focus on the strength and health of that subject…. It is through the development of reciprocity and empathy that one is most likely to uncover frailties and insecurities. (2006, p. 8, emphasis added)

One could argue that the Māori and Pasifika researchers involved in the project were drawn to the methodology for similar reasons. Aspects of this approach align with their particular Māori or Samoan (or other Pasifika) sets of cultural values and beliefs around respect and reciprocity.

Portraiture is also a tool for searching for “goodness” in schools, a rare occurrence as Lawrence Lightfoot points out:

Certainly a prominent tradition of social science inquiry has been the uncovering of malignancies and the search for their cures. This is particularly true for researchers in schools. (1983, p. 10)

Portraiture is not, as so aptly stated above, about “malignancy” but is focused, as is kaupapa Māori, on positive and success elements of what constitutes “goodness”. As Lawrence-Lightfoot stated with regards to portraiture:

The inquiry begins by examining what works, identifying good schools and asking what is right here and whether it is replicable, transportable to other environs. (1983, p. 10)

Lawrence-Lightfoot’s inquiry resulted in a number of life drawings. She acknowledges that aspects of the portraiture approach require fast and intuitive work, and there are “risks of interpretation”. This method does not reflect the “carefully documented longitudinal work of ethnographers” and does not result in “holistic case studies that would capture multi-dimensional contexts and intersecting processes” (1983, p. 13). The results from the process are portraits that are open to interpretation—and this is important for the subsequent phases of the overall project, when the members of the research team (school-based and university-based) apply their multiple lenses to the portraits and collate and synthesise their interpretations.

A main area of criticism for portraiture as a qualitative methodological approach surrounds what

English describes as “the lingering suspicion that portraiture depended too much on Lawrence Lightfoot’s genius and talent as a writer/artist” (2000, p. 21). This has been a concern for the senior researcher who has been drawing most on this method in the school which placed Pasifika culture in the foreground, with anxieties such as “do I have the literary talent needed to write the rich narratives that I am responsible for producing?”. This was the same researcher who was unable to work with the data she had gathered from the teacher-participant who passed away suddenly in another case study school. English argues that “less endowed and insightful” researchers attempting to use portraiture are at risk of producing studies that would not be scientific—“because science is premised on replication as a form of verification” (2000, p. 21). Other criticisms to bear in mind include the possibility of power imbalances between the researcher or portraitist and the reader of the research product. For example, it is possible to say that the researcher as portraitist has “uncontested” power to represent how he or she “sees”. The final product, the construction of the text or narrative, is in the researcher’s hands.

Relating the methodology literature to the research

The research in each school developed a specific emphasis and approach. For example, for Te Kura Kaupapa o Hoani Waititi Marae, the methodological approach was kaupapa Māori which informed puarakau. This is discussed in depth and detail in “Puritia, kia mau ki to Māoritanga: A portrait of teaching and learning at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae”, by Jenny Bol Jun Lee (2006).

In Avondale Intermediate, kaupapa Māori principles were influential in this case study approach. It is presented in “It’s the little small things: Inclusion and cultural difference at Avondale Intermediate School: A case study report”, by Te Kawehau Hoskins (2006).

The senior researchers working at Lincoln Heights School used portraiture as their methodological approach, and they were also influenced by Pasifika research ethics and principles. This is discussed in depth in “My quality world: Pasifika learners within a quality school”, by Tanya Wendt Samu (2006).

In Henderson Intermediate, two studies were carried out, one after the other. For the study of the Māori bilingual unit and its influence on the culture of the wider school, there is “An insight into the teaching and learning practices within a Māori bilingual unit at an intermediate school”, by Rihi Te Nana (2006). The smaller sketch (using portraiture as an approach) is based on the perspectives of three non-Māori, non-Pasifika teachers entitled “I treat all my students the same: Sketches of teacher belief and practice”, by Tanya Wendt Samu (2006).

The research highlights that there is no “one size fits all” approach to research in the context of Aotearoa. The project team would urge researchers to rethink the notion that using a singular methodological approach is adequate.

Diversity and multicultural education: Context of the United States

Diversity, in the most current literature on multicultural education from the United States, is used to describe the heterogeneous learners from early childhood through to the tertiary sector. One can argue that, as a nation, the United States has been heterogeneous for decades. However, it has become even more so over the past decade. The United States Bureau of the Census estimated that non-white minority groups made up 28 percent of the total population in 2000. Based on population growth rates at the time, the population projections for the non-white (or “people of colour”) proportion of the United States population was 38 percent for 2025, and 47 percent for 2050 (Gay, 2000, p. vii). Immigration and natural increase are processes that are having a strong impact on the classroom composition of urban schools throughout the United States.

But diverse classrooms are not just about having more and more diverse learners—or, for example, having more students with less and less in common culturally and socially with their teachers and lecturers. The general trends and patterns may show an increase in diversity, but this is not accompanied by statistical improvements in the educational outcomes of minority groups such as African American, Latino, and American Indian. Wlodkowski and Ginsberg (1995, p. 2) cite a number of statistical trends such as that in 1990, 3.1 percent of bachelor’s degrees went to Latino graduates, who made up 8.4 percent of the adult population. In that same year, 5.8 percent of bachelor’s degrees were awarded to African Americans, who made up 11.3 percent of the adult population while 84.3 percent of bachelor’s degrees went to European Americans, who made up 84.8 percent of the adult population.^[5]

The academic achievement of non-white minority students is, for Wlodkowski and Ginsberg, “a matter of social concern and…an issue of professional integrity” (1995, p. 1). They are not alone in terms of such views and concerns.

According to educators such as Geneva Gay, the “influence of an increasingly diverse population on the nation’s schools, colleges and universities, is and will continue to be enormous” (2000, p. vii). Other United States-based educators concur (Howard, 1999; Hernandez Sheets, 2005; Irvine, 2002; Santa Ana, 2004; Swindler Boutte, 2002). Like Gay, they recognise that diversity ‘goes far beyond race, gender, and class’ to include ‘ethnicity, sexual orientation, age, language and disability’ (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 1995, p. xi). They also link diversity to the processes of teaching and learning within a broader political context of cultural dominance and power. For example, Jetton and Savage-Davis are teacher educators at a university in a mid-Atlantic state. In describing the majority of their students:

[W]e typically see bright, young, White, middle to upper class women anxious to learn about the issues they will face as they enter the field of teacher education … we understand the difficulties that many of these future teachers face as they gain employment in schools and classrooms that are very different from their own personal and educational backgrounds and schooling. (2005, p. 30)

In describing the overall purpose of their specific course on diversity, they state that:

These pre-service teachers must come to understand that they will need to prepare students from diverse cultural backgrounds and who may be oppressed by the dominant culture because of their race, ethnicity, gender, class, language, religion, ability or age. (2005, p. 31, emphasis added)

Jetton and Savage-Davis identify factors such as class, ethnicity and race, gender, exceptionality, religion, language, age, and so on as “issues of diversity”, and, as the course instructors, endeavour to support pre-service teachers to “become more sensitive to the issues of diversity through multicultural education” (2005, p. 31).

Diversity, in the literature consulted for this paper, appears to be a term that describes the multifaceted characteristics of learners and, to an extent, their teachers. However, there are a number of cautions to bear in mind when exploring this literature. There is the need for educators to develop an awareness of different interpretations of the term diversity, and to bear in mind that the term:

conveys a need to respect similarities and differences among human beings and to go beyond ‘sensitivity’ to active and effective responsiveness. This requires constructive action to change ideas and attitudes that perpetuate the exclusion of underrepresented groups of students. (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 1995, p. 8, emphasis added)

Then there is the need for educators to be wary of rhetoric, and simplistic interpretations of rhetoric that appear to be inclusive of diversity. Valli (2000) examines the rhetoric embedded in policy debates within the United States about improving the quality of teaching. She argues that the dominant rhetoric is about putting:

a caring, competent teacher in every classroom so that all children have the opportunity to receive a high-quality education. (2000, p. 123)

Such inclusive language “carries its own dangers” (2000, p. 125). Valli argues:

children who have been placed at most risk of school failure because of poverty, language and skin colour can get lost in the generic all. They become nameless, faceless, voiceless and potentially ignored or forgotten. (2000, p. 125)

She goes on to state the politically incorrect or “unpalatable” view that:

not all children are in equal need of high-quality schools and teachers. Lacking the cultural capital of those in the mainstream of United States society, children of poverty have far greater need. Their out-of-school educational experiences are less valued by and less culturally consistent with the educational reward structure. Children of poverty, disproportionately represented by African American and Hispanic students who attend urban schools, need good teachers the most. They are the students for whom good teachers make the most difference. (2000, p. 125)

It would seem that diversity, as used within the context of education, has emerged (in the United States-based literature) from within the broader “meta-discipline” (Banks, 1999, p. x) of multicultural education. Multicultural education is a field of study that, according to Geneva Gay, is “powerful, confusing, transformative and sometimes intimidating” (2005, p. xvi). It first emerged in the 1970s, but different patterns or foci have developed over time. Gay states:

The field began as primarily a curriculum enterprise, but quickly shifted to a pedagogical focus. This shift in focus has continued over time such that currently multicultural education scholarship deals primarily with pedagogical issues … developmental trends … concerned foremost with modifying classroom instruction to make it more reflective of and responsive to the ethnic, racial, cultural and social diversities that characterise U.S. society. (2005, p. xvii)

Pedagogy that is reflective and responsive to diversity is the second way the term diversity has emerged and has been developed in the literature. In other words, the interconnected processes of teaching and learning are linked to diversity—and according to Hernandez Sheets, the “key” to this linkage lies within “the natural connectedness of culture and cognition” (2005, p. 14). A number of educators have developed pedagogical frameworks and approaches for teaching and learning in diverse classroom and lecture settings. These frameworks are designed in such a way as to take into account issues of diversity without being prescriptive or formulaic. Culture is the centralising concept to each framework (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 1995; Gay, 2000; FlorioRuane, 2001; Irvine, 2002; Hernandez Sheets, 2005). The name given to two of the frameworks encountered in the literature reviewed for this paper is culturally responsive teaching (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 1995; Gay, 2000). The name given to a framework developed very recently is diversity pedagogy (Hernandez Sheets, 2005).

As the term diversity has recently emerged in response to the impact of demographic changes on classrooms in the United States and from the corresponding focus on pedagogy within the discipline of multicultural education, a brief examination of literature on multicultural education will be helpful.

Multicultural education in the 21st century

Multicultural education, particularly the theoretical aspects of areas such as curriculum and pedagogy, has increased in “conceptual clarity, complexity, depth and sophistication” (Gay, 2005, p. xvii) over the three to four decades of its establishment and development within the United States. An insight into how multicultural education is currently defined as a field may enhance and provide further contextual understandings to the term diversity. Two highly credible sources are drawn upon.

The first source is the influential “Multicultural Education Series” published by the Teachers College Press of Columbia University, which uses the following definition of multicultural education:

Multicultural education is a field of study designed to increase educational equity for all students that incorporates, for this purpose, content, concepts, principles, theories and paradigms from history, the social and behavioural sciences, and particularly from ethnic studies and women studies. (Banks, 1999, p. x)

The conceptual framework for the aforementioned series of books identifies five dimensions of multicultural education. These are: content integration, the knowledge construction process, prejudice reduction, equity pedagogy, and empowering school culture and social structure. In order to implement multicultural education effectively, each of the five dimensions must be addressed. The dimensions are considered to be closely inter-related, but are still individually recognisable and subject to focused analysis. It can be assumed that in achieving certain ideals within the five interwoven dimensions of multicultural education (which cover curriculum, pedagogy, cognitive development, the role of wider institutional and social structures, and discrimination) there will be an “increase [in] educational equity for all students” (Banks & Banks, 1995, p. xii).

The second source of a reputable and current conceptualisation of multicultural education in the United States comes from the National Association for Multicultural Education (NAME) which describes itself as “the leading international and national organization in the area of multicultural education” on its website (National Association for Multicultural Education, 2003). Multicultural education is considered to be a philosophical concept based on “ideals of freedom, justice, equality, equity, and human dignity as acknowledged in various documents, such as the U.S. Declaration of Independence, constitutions of South Africa and the United States, and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights”. The purpose of this type of education is to prepare students to take up their responsibilities in an “interdependent world”. Schools are recognised as having a vital role in developing the attitudes, values, skills, and knowledge necessary for democratic citizenship and responsibility. Cultural differences are valued and affirmed. The philosophy has a strong social justice agenda. Contrary to the forms of multicultural education that educators such as Bullivant (1981) critiqued in the 1980s, this way of conceptualising multicultural education expects the principles of multicultural education to “permeate” all the processes and practices within schools, and in so doing be the means by which the “highest levels of academic achievement” are attained for all a school’s diverse students. It:

… demands a school staff that is culturally competent, and to the greatest extent possible racially, culturally, and linguistically diverse. Staff must be multi-culturally literate and capable of including and embracing families and communities to create an environment that is supportive of multiple perspectives, experiences, and democracy.

The overall features of this comprehensive definition of multicultural education incorporate principles such as social justice and equity. Culture is central to the definition. Academic achievement for all learners and social and institutional change are anticipated outcomes. Recognising and addressing power relations is explicit to this approach to education. Curriculum, pedagogy and the cultural literacies of staff/ educators are significant areas of targeted development and change. (National Association for Multicultural Education, 2003)

Multicultural education, in the 21st century, for the United States, is, according to Gay, “not merely a cosmetic facelift, a transitory diversion, or a quick fix” (2005, p. xvi). It would appear that a composite, multi-dimensional approach is required; one that is coupled with each individual teacher’s increased awareness of themselves as diverse cultural beings.

Diversity in education has developed from a form of multiculturalism that we may not be too familiar with within education in Aotearoa New Zealand, because in this country the shift from the simplistic notions of multiculturalism (a product of the late 1970s and 1980s) are still informing the underlying assumptions that many educators and practitioners have of this “new” diversity discourse.

“Responsiveness to diversity framework”: Context of New Zealand

This project set out to examine culturally responsive pedagogies at four different sites. A number of questions guided the search for relevant literature around notions of diversity—“notions of diversity”, because current literature from overseas and now emerging in New Zealand no longer addresses culture and ethnicity (as forms of difference) in isolation from other forms of difference. The key questions are:

• What is diversity? What are the key discourses or ways of “talking” about diversity and difference?
• Where and how are Māori and Pasifika learners located in the New Zealand discourses around diversity and difference? And to what extent does this discourse make space for cultural ways of being?

According to Samu and Rio (2005) there appear to be three ways that the terms “diverse” and “diversity” are used in education in this country:

It is used as an adjective to describe contexts, and even the learners within these contexts, that are not the same, and are different, or heterogeneous, to one another. Another way that this term is used is as a prescription for education practice. That is to say, diversity in education is about effective teaching and learning practices for settings of diverse learners. The third way that the term is used is as a social theory—the belief that a certain type of schooling will play a significant role in increasing tolerance, and reducing prejudice, within the wider society. This is education for the acceptance of diversity. (p. 5)

Diversity in education is the predominant discourse in the available literature.

Critical reflections on “diversity”

An important source of information about how these terms are being defined and used by the Ministry can be found in the Best Evidence Syntheses (BES) programme:

The concept of ‘diversity’ is central to the synthesis. Diversity encompasses many characteristics including ethnicity, socio-economic background, home language, gender, special needs, disability, and giftedness. Teaching needs to be responsive to diversity within ethnic groups, for example, diversity within Pakeha, Māori, Pasifika and Asian students. We also need to recognise the diversity within individual students influenced by intersections of gender, cultural heritage(s), socio-economic background, and talent. Evidence shows teaching that is responsive to student diversity can have very positive impacts on low and high achievers at the same time. (Alton-Lee, 2003, p. 3)

Alton-Lee conceptualises and contextualises the terms even further by stating:

This frame rejects the notion of a ‘normal’ group and ‘other’ or minority groups of children and constitutes diversity and difference as central to the classroom endeavour and central to the focus of quality teaching in Aotearoa, New Zealand. It is fundamental to the approach taken to diversity in New Zealand education that it honours Articles 2 and 3 of the Treaty of Waitangi. (2003, p. 3)

This definition is far more focused than definitions of multicultural, and it has the powerful advantage of being situated in the New Zealand context. But, like multiculturalism (which had its heyday, in terms of policy and practice, in the late 1970s and early 1980s), it overlooks the power relations that exist within society.

Unlike multiculturalism, diversity as a notion may not carry such a positive image. . Instead, the assumption may be that it is a challenge, or even a problem, facing New Zealand teachers; hence the urgent need to develop strategies and approaches to equip our teachers to rise to the challenges (or perceived problems) that this brings. Diversity is not necessarily a new perspective on a current reality—but there are notional as well as theorised perspectives of it which must be examined. The following documents highlight the way in which the notion of diversity is being articulated within education.

New Zealand’s education priorities

The government’s key education priorities for 2003–2006, as set out in Education Priorities for New Zealand (2003) fall under two overarching goals. The first is “to build an education system that equips New Zealanders with 21st century skills”. The second is “to reduce systematic underachievement in education”. The second goal is of particular significance to this discussion in that four social groups are identified. This second goal states that:

Being Māori, Pasifika, coming from a poor home, having special needs or a disability are no reason why someone should fail in education or have fewer learning opportunities. The system does yet work well enough for many of these learners (Ministry of Education, 2003, p. 8).

This statement establishes that the Ministry of Education’s attention is focused on the system rather than the learners in terms of (a) accountability for current differences in achievement between broad groups of learners, and (b) in terms of the arena for targeted change. The statement also identifies four diversities as “key priorities”. These diversities in education are directly linked to patterns of group achievement.

Best Evidence Synthesis

An important source of specific information of how diversity is being defined and used by the Ministry of Education can be found in the Best Evidence Syntheses (BES) programme, particularly within Alton-Lee’s Quality Teaching for Diverse Students in Schooling: Best Evidence Synthesis (2003). The way diversity has been defined is far more comprehensive than the ways the Ministry of Education has defined and used “multicultural” (Samu, 1998)—the term that the Ministry has been known to use in the past. But like multiculturalism, diversity does not make the power relations that exist within society, between diverse groups of learners, explicit.

The definition of diversity (by Alton-Lee) does challenge educators’ assumptions that having diverse learners is a problem facing New Zealand teachers, hence the importance of developing strategies and approaches to equip our teachers to rise to the perceived problems that diversity brings. The BES definition or “frame” (2003, p. 3) acknowledges the Treaty of Waitangi and argues that the “norm” teachers in New Zealand must operate from is diversity rather than trying to use approaches that meet the needs of a narrow range of students (the groups many teachers might consider as “the norm”) and supporting “other” learners’ abilities to fit in.

Diversity within the BES framework is connected to the processes of teaching and learning—or, more precisely, quality teaching. The framework addresses achievement. Unfortunately, in terms of the wider issues of power relations, and of contexts where cultural and social dominance in many forms impact and restrict opportunities for successful learning for some groups of diverse learners, the BES framework does not make statements about which diversities ought to be prioritised. Aside from Māori as tangata whenua, the BES framework appears to be inclusive of individual difference to such an extent that readers who do not engage with the BES on diversity beyond the executive summary are at risk of interpreting the diversity framework as being about each and every individual difference, so much so that it ends up not being particularly meaningful to teachers.

However, there are a number of features of the overall BES programme that can be interpreted as prioritising certain diversities. For example, the BES programme has consulted in depth and detail with advisory groups of Māori and Pasifika researchers. Māori and Pasifika guidelines have been developed for writers within the BES programme.

Preparing teacher education graduates to teach diverse learners effectively

The original focus of the Ministry of Education document, A Strategy for Preparing Teacher Education Graduates to Teach Diverse Learners Effectively: A Draft for Consultation (2004a) was the development of a national pre-service teacher education strategy that would guide the development of programmes to enable student teachers to be more effective with Māori learners in mainstream classrooms. During the writing of the draft, “it became clear that that strategy would benefit diverse learners” as well (Ministry of Education, 2004a, p. 1). The strategy was then developed to apply to diverse learners—with a focus on those groups that systematically underachieve in the compulsory sector. Agencies were to be invited to prioritise and focus on “one or more of these groups”. The strategy is “aligned with the key government goals of raising achievement and reducing disparity” (2004a, p. 1). As described earlier, the government’s Education Priorities For New Zealand (2003) clearly identify the groups (or specific diversities) that are to be considered for selection—Māori, Pasifika, poverty, and special needs.

The draft strategy is explicit about the purpose of pre-service teacher education programmes in New Zealand—and that is to prepare teachers to teach diverse students effectively. Over time, the proof that, collectively, teacher education programmes are producing “effective” teachers is when there are improved levels of achievement amongst all social groups, and a corresponding reduction in social and economic inequalities.

The draft strategy takes into serious consideration the attitudes and beliefs of teachers of diverse learners. It states that “a significant challenge for teacher educators and student teachers is to ensure that challenging attitudes, assumptions and beliefs about ethnicity and ability are fundamental programme components” (2004, p. 3, emphasis added). The process of self-examination and personal challenge appears to be two-way—teacher education programmes that endeavour to provide student teachers with opportunities to interrogate attitudes and beliefs are incomplete. Teacher educators must ensure that this process is reciprocated, and that they model such ways of making meaning, to their students.

The draft strategy also states that “teachers need to know, understand and inquire into their own culture in order to be able to know, understand and value the social and cultural contexts of the learners they teach”. The strategy continues with the statement that it “is imperative that initial teacher education challenges teachers to inquire into their own culture to create a pathway to understanding and valuing other cultures and learners” (2004, p. 4).

This particular document (the draft A Strategy for Preparing Teacher Education Graduates to Teach Diverse Learners Effectively) is comprehensive, and provides clear guidelines on the Ministry of Education’s ideal for teacher education programmes that are intended to produce quality or effective teachers for diverse learners and hence play a pivotal role in improving academic achievement for underachieving groups and from that, a more equitable society. The draft strategy places an emphasis on factors such as the centrality of culture, and the inter-related nature of learning.

Quality teaching and responsiveness to diversity: Inseparable notions

When the New Zealand Ministry of Education considers quality teaching, it can be argued that the parameters for its discourse are set by comparisons of New Zealand with other OECD countries using data from international studies such as PISA^[6]. New Zealand student performance on such tests is both positive and negative—in other words, there is a very significant range of outcomes. New Zealand has students who achieve very highly on such international tests—but New Zealand also has students who do not and are well behind those who do. According to Alton-Lee, of these, “M ori and Pasifika students featured quite prominently amongst the students that performed poorly” (2005, p.8). She describes the education system of New Zealand as being one of “high disparities in achievement by comparison with most OECD countries” (2005, p. 8). To be even more precise—New Zealand has the second highest ranking in terms of disparity of the OECD nations. Quality teaching in New Zealand appears to be limited in terms of its effectiveness.

Further analyses by the Ministry of Education, particularly through its Best Evidence Syntheses programme of research and development, shows that the cause of the disparity is not in the decile ranking of the school. Rather, “there is marked variability within schools in teaching effectiveness” (Alton-Lee, 2004, p. 4). The difference in educational outcomes is the result of differences in the effectiveness of teaching within schools in New Zealand. This does not necessarily mean the difference between a poor teacher and a good teacher. Generally speaking, teaching may be good or of a high quality (judged as such because of student outcomes) but it may not necessarily be effective for all the different learners who are experiencing that teaching because students who are different are not achieving the same favourable outcomes that other students are.

This means that New Zealand has an education system that serves many students well—so much so, it can be confidently said that its education system is a “high quality” one. But the education system does not serve all New Zealand students well—particularly students of specific cultural and ethnic backgrounds. As a consequence of international evidence-based comparisons, it must be acknowledge that our education system is a “low equity” one. Yet quality teaching in New Zealand needs to be effective for all who participate—and this requires diversity and difference to be at the very centre of the meaning of the notion “quality teaching”.

So what is the real problem? Alton-Lee argues that the overall weakness of the education system in New Zealand is the inability to be responsive to the diversity of its learners:

The high disparities, the relatively high variance within schools in the New Zealand PISA results, and our rapidly growing demographic profiles for those learners traditionally underserved by New Zealand schooling, indicate a need for community and system development to be more responsive to diverse learners. (2005, p. 8, emphasis added)

The Ministry of Education’s Best Evidence Syntheses programme has developed what is described as a “responsiveness to diversity” framework. Aitken and Sinnema have explained what this means in the following way. They state that a responsiveness to diversity framework:

places an emphasis on approaches that are efficacious in enhancing educational outcomes for all students. It challenges deficit thinking that locates responsibility for lack of achievement in the students or their families and also challenges thinking that assumes more able students will be able to cope without consideration of their special needs and abilities.…

One of the central concerns of a ‘responsiveness to diversity’ framework is to highlight pedagogical approaches that work for diverse learners simultaneously. In New Zealand schools, the typical learning context is one in which a group of 25-30 students are taught together. It is important then, when considering the magnitude of influence to consider the impact on all learners, not just the students to whom the pedagogy is targeted. (2005, p. 13, emphasis added)

Other educators have developed theoretical frameworks for the effective teaching of diverse learners—frameworks wherein difference is the norm rather than a specialised add-on to what is being provided for “normal” learners. An integral part of such frameworks are sets of principles. Gay (2000) describes culturally responsive teaching, whilst Hernandez Sheets (2005) talks about diversity pedagogy. Regardless of the names or labels, these are frameworks that do more than acknowledge and describe diversity. Diversity:

conveys a need to respect similarities and differences among human beings and to go beyond ‘sensitivity’ to active and effective responsiveness. (Wlodkowski & Ginsberg, 1995, p. 8, emphasis added)

Responsiveness to diversity, in terms of the classroom, is about tailoring teaching to learner diversities in order to raise academic achievement. According to Alton-Lee:

What students bring to the classroom is in turn influenced by their gender, families and wider affiliations and heritages and the extent to which these become resources in their school [and centre] learning. There are substantial research literatures that show these aspects of learner identity and background to be integral to educational achievement or failure, particularly when there are cultural mismatches between the home and school [centre]. (2005, p. 4)

Critical reflections on multiculturalism, multicultural education

What of culture, multiculturalism and multicultural education? Are these discourses of any relevance to investigations about culturally relevant pedagogies?

The term multicultural is often understood and used at the most simplistic and descriptive of levels (for example “different cultural groups”). When it is used it often seems to be referring to a society with numerous cultural groups. This term is used frequently in the conversations of teachers and educators. It appears in policy documents such as The New Zealand Curriculum Framework (Ministry of Education, 1993) and in curriculum statements such as Social Studies in the New Zealand Curriculum (Ministry of Education, 1997). What is interesting is that when multicultural is understood and used in this simplistic and descriptive way, the usual implication is that a highly favoured situation is being described. In other words, general discourses on cultural difference often assume that to be multicultural is positive and of considerable value to society.

More theoretically informed definitions of multicultural are also based on this premise, that culturally different social groups are a social asset. According to Lynch:

different cultural groups merit respect and it is therefore important that the description which we use for our society makes it clear that this is so for all legitimate cultural groups and not just for one. (1983, p. 10)

Thus, the term multicultural is a “comprehensive descriptor … which embraces the multi-racial, multi-credal, multi-ethnic and multicultural composition” of a society (Lynch 1983, p. 10), which, as Lynch says, are features to be celebrated.

The literature also includes another term that deserves a brief mention at this point: cultural pluralism. Like multiculturalism, cultural pluralism also describes situations in which culturally different groups are sited together. However, what makes pluralism distinctive is its more overtly political focus. Some theorists rest their definitions of cultural pluralism on the expectation that political power will be distributed and shared amongst all of these social and cultural groups (Bullivant, 1981, p. 1).

How has multicultural been defined in the New Zealand education system? The New Zealand Curriculum Framework is an important source of such information. It states that:

The school curriculum will encourage students to understand and respect the different cultures which make up New Zealand society. It will ensure that the experiences, cultural traditions, histories and languages of all New Zealanders are recognised and valued. (Ministry of Education, 1993, p. 7)

The need for understanding and respecting the different cultures of New Zealand is highlighted but it makes no mention of power sharing and resource redistribution. In fact, in promoting the recognition and valuing of the “experiences, cultural traditions, histories and languages of all New Zealanders” (Ministry of Education, 1993, p. 7, emphasis added), one can argue that it rests on the implicit assumption that all such social groups enjoy relative parity and equality.

Thus, multicultural education is about education for a multicultural society—it focuses on cultural inclusiveness in the curriculum as well as the pedagogies used in teaching and learning that curriculum. It tends not to be explicit about power relations (as in cultural pluralism).

Bullivant’s (1981) theoretical framework that identified two social domains—the private and the public—has shaped this project’s reflections on multicultural education programmes and curricula. As culture finds expression on a personal level in terms of unique traditions, language, customs and values, it belongs to the private domain. The diversity of such expressions within many societies can be described in terms of different lifestyles. The public domain, on the other hand, entails being part of a nation state and carries certain inherent obligations. There are several institutions which everyone needs to support, such as a common language, legal system, market system, and political system. Ideally, these are structured in such a way that they are applicable to everyone in society, and all can fully participate. Education systems need to prepare all members of society for full participation, and the ability to participate in such institutions affects one’s life chances.

It has been argued that education for a multicultural (in the descriptive sense) society should prepare individuals to recognise and accept that “we are all alike” in terms of a common humanity, but different in terms of gender, social class, religion, culture, competence, and expertise (Lynch, 1983, p. 12). In other words, society must educate for unity and the celebration of diversity—although in reality this can be problematic (Bullivant, 1981; Lynch, 1983; Massaro, 1993).

Bullivant argues that educative strategies that are made in the name multiculturalism are more often directed at the private than the public domain—for example “enriched” curricula that feature the way other cultural groups live. This is an education about other lifestyles in comparison to one’s own. Such strategies are often intended to raise self-esteem and develop personal pride and assume that this will enable cultural minorities to cope with political realities. It is believed that such programmes will enable minority children to do better at school (because school programmes will no longer alienate certain groups of children and their self-esteem will be enhanced) and as a result, their employment prospects (in the public domain) will improve (Bullivant, 1981).

Besides being naïve (May, 1992), these measures are ineffective because they do not make the distinction between lifestyles and life chances. Such a distinction is at “the heart of the difficulties in formulating educational programmes” under the banner of multicultural education. True equality of opportunity is about the improvement of life chances for all, not lifestyles. Programmes which are preoccupied with culture detract from the real causes of inequality—the way institutions are structured, and the way they operate in the public domain (Bullivant, 1981; May, 1992; McCarthy, 1994; Penetito, 1984, 1986; Simon, 1989).

Multicultural, multiculturalism and multicultural education are adjectives, notions or concepts that the Ministry of Education does not appear to use anymore—the discourse is diversity. However, the terms and the different ways that they can be used are very much part of the language of teachers and educators. The banners or terms may have shifted, but it is highly likely some of the underlying assumptions about multicultural education have not.

A final note: Centrality of culture in teaching and learning— and academic outcomes

Recognition of diverse learners is inextricably bound with patterns of educational achievement. Diversity is about equitable educational outcomes in all the sectors of the formal education systems of this nation, for all.

But there is a vital condition. As Wlodkowski and Ginsberg state, the:

foremost challenge in all of education [is] to create learning experiences that allow the integrity of every learner to be sustained while each person attains relevant educational success and mobility. (1995, p. xii)

In considering different diversities and education, on the basis of groups, it can be argues that educators are ethically, morally and professionally obligated to ensure that the formal education system that they are a part of is maximising the opportunities for diverse learners to achieve their potential without paying the awful price of compromising who and what they are.

Regardless of what their individual stances might be, of the many diverse groups in education that to date may not have been served effectively by the system, or their schools and institutions, four groups (three of which are socio-cultural) have been identified as key education priorities at the national policy level: Māori, Pasifika, children in poverty, and special needs.

The current policy environment reflects demographic projections for New Zealand society as a whole, and for the Auckland region in particular—and these projections will impact on current patterns of underachievement that are already of serious concern. Some types of diversity have to be focused on and prioritised over others in our schools and education system. Time and resources are limited, and if certain current trends are not arrested soon, there will be quite serious social and economic implications for New Zealand as a nation.

Perhaps it might be helpful to bear in mind one of the key findings of the Best Evidence Synthesis: Quality Teaching for Diverse Students in Schooling (2003): that there is evidence in the research that “shows teaching that is responsive to student diversity can have very positive impacts on low and high achievers at the same time” (p. v). Given the complex, inter-related nature of diversity, research and development that seek to make a difference for aspects of education for priority groups will be making huge contributions to the fields of knowledge and practice for other diverse learners. As is argued in a kaupapa Māori approach, a key element that must be engaged is that of the centrality of culture. Whereas this is a taken for granted position within kaupapa Māori, it is not so in regards to a diversity approach; rather in a context of cultural dominance it appears to be the case that culture remains marginal and in some instances invisible. Cole, as cited in Hernandez Sheets, made the observation:

It has long been recognised that culture is very difficult for humans to think about. Like fish in water, we fail to ‘see’ culture because it is the medium within which we exist. Encounters with other cultures make it easier to grasp our own as an object of thought. (2005, p. 14)

Numerous theorists have discussed and attempted to define the concept of culture. It is open and prone to many interpretations (Simon, 1989). A number of writers have discussed the concept in relation to teaching and learning. Delpit eloquently states:

We do not really see through our eyes or hear through our ears, but through our beliefs. To put our beliefs on hold is to cease to exist as ourselves for a moment—and that is not easy. It is painful as well, because it means turning yourself inside out, giving up your own sense of who you are and being willing to see yourself in the unflattering light of another’s angry gaze … we must learn to be vulnerable enough to allow our world to turn upside down in order to allow the realities of others to edge themselves into our consciousness. (1988, p. 297)

Wlodkowski and Ginsberg (1995) argue that taking:

a closer look at the concept of culture helps us to understand why culturally diverse classrooms frequently challenge the resources of all teachers even those who are earnest and experienced. (p. 4)

Hernandez Sheets (2005) has developed a conceptual paradigm that identifies and organises the characteristics of effective approaches to multicultural teaching (or, as she names it, diversity pedagogy). She presents a very clear and logical conceptualisation of the relationship between culture and cognition, and the impact of this on teaching and learning.

Teachers who acknowledge cultural variations in students’ cognitive and social development are more likely to recognise the built-in, continuous relationship among culture, human development, teaching, and learning. (p. 14)

Hernandez Sheets describes and discusses three aspects of culture (the role of culture in socialisation; the powerful influence of culture on children’s human developmental processes; and role of power relations in the ways in which culture is maintained and sustained) in the expectation that these views of culture will help teachers understand and then acknowledge the role of culture in the teaching and learning process (2005, pp. 3–12).

Responding to diversity in education involves profoundly subtle, sophisticated, personalised, intellectualised, and politicised understandings of culture; the relationship of this concept to teaching and learning; and the location of culture within broader societal contexts.

 

4. Mapping the qualitative research products

We can begin with all the maps of qualitative research we currently have, then draw some new maps that enrich and extend the boundaries of our understandings beyond the margins. (Smith, 2005, p. 102)

An important outcome of this research project is the writing of what this project will refer to as “works of text”. There are four. Each is unique. They look and “sound” different from one another, because each writer/researcher used multiple research tools to construct multifaceted case studies/narratives/portraits or sketches/puarakau of specific places, peoples, and events, and their interactions with them. This section provides a “map” or a guide to the research in each school. This is done by extracting sections from the summary comments or conclusions of each work of text. The purpose of presenting extracts rather than summaries or even abstracts, is to provide readers of the final report with the opportunity to “see” that each work of text is unique, and to avoid compromising the researcher/writer as a primary source of information.

The researchers are exploring ways to publish and disseminate each work. For example, the work of text about Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae would be ideal as a research monograph, whilst the works on Lincoln Heights School and Avondale Intermediate School could be developed as journal articles. The researchers are also exploring ways to locate the works together to enable broad comparisons to be made by readers themselves. For example, readers with an interest in qualitative research methodologies (such as case studies, ethnographies and narrative storytelling) and culturally-based research approaches (such as kaupapa Māori and Pasifika research ethics and guidelines) will read across the works of text and will identify and draw out the key elements for themselves. Likewise readers with an interest in the layered richness of school organisation and life and how this shapes a school’s efforts to address the learning needs of its Māori and Pasifika students will identify for themselves key points of interest and relevance. This will be possible at a number of levels—from individual teachers, to syndicates and groups of teachers, to school leadership and the school’s espoused philosophy and culture.

The inclusion of the four works of text in this final report is not feasible for practical reasons, the main one being the relative sizes of each work of text. The largest (the potential monograph) is more than 30,000 words. Others are, on average, 20,000 words in length.

However, a number of overall themes connect the four pieces of work. A brief discussion of these as overall findings and how they might be used by practitioners can be found after the series of extracts, or map, of the work of texts.

“Puritia, kia mau ki to Māoritanga: A portrait of teaching and learning at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae”, by Jenny Bol Jun Lee

[This is Section 7 of the work titled above.]

This pilot study has sought to explore some aspects of teaching and learning at Years 7 and 8 at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae, in particular, the ways in which “culture” (Māori) is embedded in the pedagogical principles and practices at the kura.

In order to investigate the relationship between “culture” and pedagogy at this site, an historical overview of Hoani Waititi Marae prefaced the discussion about the kura. The successful establishment of the marae, based on strong educational and cultural philosophies developed by a strong pan-tribal urban whānau, was the foundation for the pioneering of a kaupapa Māori primary school option outside of the state system. “Ngā Tūmanako”, the wharenui, represents the hopes and dreams of Māori to achieve “mana motuhake”, in which education, led by people such as Hoani Waititi, was considered a crucial part.

As one of a number of educational initiatives operating at the Hoani Waititi Marae, the kura emerged in 1985 as a way to cater for graduates from Te Kohanga Reo, as the first kura kaupapa Māori in Aotearoa. Committed to progressing the children’s learning of te reo Māori and tikanga Māori, dedicated parents and teachers worked together to erect buildings and create teaching spaces, shape curriculum and produce resources, and theorise the philosophy and pedagogy based on mātauranga Māori. As a private establishment, funded by the fees and donations of parents and other supporters, the kura began to operate in ways that validated “being Māori” and valued Māori knowledge, beliefs, and culture. One of the features of the kura, was āhuatanga ako (Māori pedagogy).

In 2006, the kura tuatahi is close to full capacity with one class at each year level. With a large number of students who live outside of the local New Lynn–Glen Eden district, parents make a significant commitment to transport their children to and from kura, sometimes from the other side of Auckland. The new purpose-built facilities provide students and teachers with comfortable surroundings that are designed to support Māori teaching and learning based on the notion of marae ātea. Located as part of the marae, the kura is part of the wider Hoani Waititi community, and 70 percent of the staff have children, grandchildren, nephews, and nieces who attend the kura. They are, literally, also part of the whānau.

Te Aho Matua is the foundational document for kura kaupapa Māori. Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae feel a special reverence and responsibility to the principles set out in Te Aho Matua, as teachers such as Katerina Mataira, and others from the kura, led much of its development. Te Aho Matua is not, however, viewed as a prescriptive doctrine that does not allow for the diversity of “being Māori”, or provide the opportunity to be unique. Rather, Te Aho Matua lays out some of the cultural markers that differentiate these kura as pursuing kaupapa Māori.

Identifying the ways Te Aho Matua is enacted in the pedagogies practiced at the kura is made difficult for teachers, students, and whānau to articulate because Māori is the dominant culture, and all pervasive. Te Aho Matua impacts on every facet of the kura, from curriculum considerations to management matters—everything is located within a Māori education system that privileges Māori world views, and that encompasses a Māori understanding of creation, history, and the world around us today.

Issues related to te reo Māori and literacy characterised discussions about pedagogy at the kura. Despite the kura having celebrated its 21st year, te reo Māori remains the key driver for many whānau seeking kura kaupapa Māori education for their children. Often fuelled by their own feelings of being disadvantaged during their own schooling (“mainstream”), parents are eager for their children not only to learn te reo Māori, but be able to “live as Māori” at kura. Te reo Māori is understood as the medium that enables access to Māori culture, knowledge and understandings.

Improving student’s competence in te reo Māori, however, is an ongoing challenge. For most students, kura is the primary (or only) place where they are in a Māori-medium environment, which often means there is a heavy reliance on the teachers and the kura to provide all of their language learning. Often unable to assist their children with their schoolwork at home, parents appreciate the extra “work” the teachers do in and outside of school hours. Improving literacy is currently an important focus for the kura with two teachers attending a year-long te reo Māori literacy professional development course. There is a concerted effort to participate in in-service programmes that strengthen teachers’ understanding of literacy issues as the kura plans to lift literacy levels, in both te reo Māori and English.

Āhuatanga ako (Māori pedagogy) specifically describes teaching and learning practices in kura kaupapa Māori. Clearly laid out in Te Aho Matua, many of these practises (such as karakia, tiaki and so forth) are in evidence at the kura. One of the complexities, however, when trying to recognise ako, is that teaching and learning methods and strategies may look the same as those practices in “mainstream” settings and/or are universal in nature. The crucial difference is that these methods, strategies, and techniques sit within a kaupapa Māori cultural framework, set out by Te Aho Matua, and operate in ways that are often “invisible” to the ‘outsider’, or difficult to recognise or articulate as an “insider”. For instance, a tuakana–teina relationship between students is not necessarily evident in the ways students are asked to work co-operatively in groups (it could be simply perceived as valuing group work), yet this cultural understanding underpins their interactions, their work, and their experiences.

The multi-dimensional nature of ako also makes describing pedagogical practices a challenging task. Reliant on the interaction of Māori cultural values, beliefs, and knowledge, ako is both the practices and framework of Māori pedagogy.

Whanaungatanga is one of the important cultural elements that gives rise to a range of practices at the kura. Beyond the kura, whanaungatanga began for many whānau with their connection to the Hoani Waititi Marae; similarly people of the marae feel connected to the kura because of their involvement in the wider marae community. Whanaungatanga also determines the relationships between staff, students, and parents and whānau, as whānau. The kura is part of the marae, and the teachers are viewed, as one parent called them, as “cultural parents”.

The kura whānau is not only created through a collective commitment to the kura; the actual whakapapa that each person carries is central and important to the interactions that take place and the ways the children are nurtured. Whanaungatanga is more than the idea that relationships between teachers and students should be strong; rather it is located in the marae, the history, the people, and in the cultural context of “being Māori”. Whanaungatanga is also an active pedagogical process that is played out in all interactions at the kura including pōwhiri and hui.

Finally, at the kura, whanaungatanga continues to be a powerful interventionist element in the struggles that individuals in the whānau face, and extends beyond the classroom, to the marae whānau and wider community.

Like any other school, this kura faces a range of challenges to improve teaching and learning. The two key issues identified by the kura highlighted some of these challenges. The first issue is related to dual lines of accountability—putting into practice the philosophies of Te Aho Matua and the meeting the legislative requirements of the Ministry of Education. While these two “streams” do not necessarily run against each other, having to cross between the two creates its own challenges, especially when the preference is not to simply follow the “main-stream”. The production of relevant materials that align to both the curriculum documents and support the philosophies and programme themes of the kura remains a huge task for teachers. The kura is making a concerted effort to provide opportunities for teachers to engage in a range of professional development forums for teachers in order to broaden their teaching strategies, and improve their te reo Māori competence and mātauranga knowledge base.

The second issue concerns the ongoing challenge of strengthening whānau so that they are able to better assist their children’s learning and participate more effectively in kura-wide activities.

This purākau of pedagogy at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae is based on discussions with a small group of staff, students, and whānau of the kura and forms only one “branch” of the narratives about the teaching and learning that operate here. Māori culture is more than “embedded” in the way this kura operates; it forms the basis, it creates the context, and guides all interactions that take place on this site. Within a kaupapa Māori paradigm, the nature of knowledge and the transmission of this knowledge, including the politics, levels, access, and teaching and learning, are all influenced by Māori cultural values, beliefs, world views, and theories.

The title of this report is taken from the title of a waiata composed by one of the teachers, Eraihia Matahiki, and performed by students at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae during this research. The words of “Puritia kia mau ki tō Māoritanga” provide an apt portrayal of the importance of Māori culture, in particular, Māori language, to sustaining a Māori identity passed down through the generations. The waiata encapsulates and exemplifies how “culture” is the key educative driving force at Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi Marae.

“It’s the little small things: Inclusion and cultural difference at Avondale Intermediate School: A case study report”, by Te Kawehau Hoskins

[Two extracts have been drawn from the methodology and analysis sections of this work of text.]

Extract 1

To what extent is culture (Māori and/or Pasifika) embedded in the teaching and learning at the school?

This broad question helped shape the way the focus group interviews, school and classroom observations, and school documentation have been approached. All participants (including students) in this study were asked very similar sets of questions on the following areas of personal/school philosophy and practice:

• participants’ educational philosophies generally and for Māori in particular
• participants’ views about, and experiences of, the school culture and the ways Māori culture is viewed and practised in the school
• participants’ knowledge and views about relationships between teachers/school and parents/community, and the ways that the community participates in the school and the influence and participation of Māori parents/whānau on school governance, culture and practice
• participants’ pedagogical practices, preferences and experiences; views about the position of Māori language, knowledge and culture in content, teaching and learning; and perceptions and experiences about Māori learners and what, in their view, constitutes effective and culturally responsive pedagogy.

These four broad areas of inquiry constitute the four main chapters of the case study report and are followed by a summary of the key themes emerging from the research.

Culture and pedagogy

Culture and pedagogy are key terms and concepts for this research and therefore warrant some discussion about their use in this report. It is recognised that “culture” is a complex concept with multiple definitions. Arguably everything in the social world, produced by human groups is “cultural” (Bishop & Glynn, 1999; Jones, 1991). Clearly, in a school setting there are multiple cultures operating simultaneously. The focus of this case study is on the relationship between culture and pedagogy; in particular, the practices (of teachers, students, whānau, school) that are culturally informed. Teasing out what is “Māori” about pedagogical practices is a complex process, as all practices are informed by a range of (cultural) influences. The study, however, foregrounds explicit expressions of Māori culture—the values, language, knowledge, and cultural practices recognised as Māori. The study is also cognisant of a range of practices operating that are “Māori friendly”, or consistent with Māori cultural pedagogies.

“Pedagogy” is another term with multiple meanings. It may be narrowly defined as strategies and methods for teaching and learning, yet may also include a much broader range of influences and activities through which we learn and are taught; for example, family, media, religion (Marshall, et al., 2000). This case study is interested in the cultural pedagogies and influences operating at Avondale Intermediate School in the broadest context, taking in the classroom, the wider school culture, and community influence.

Methodological approaches

Kaupapa Māori
Kaupapa Māori theory asserts that Māori ontology and epistemologies are valid and provide the basis for a local critical theorisation/praxis responsive to Māori struggles and aspirations (Mead, 1997; Smith, 1997). Because this research is concerned with developing critical understandings about educational theories and practices that may benefit Māori learners and communities as Māori, this research shares with kaupapa Māori theory a transformative agenda that includes the validation of Māori world views.

Kaupapa Māori research builds on such understandings to provide a frame for evaluating the context and approach for research for, by, and about Māori. Rather than advancing a particular methodology or “method”, kaupapa Māori research principles operate to scrutinise the relevance or appropriateness of various research methods in terms of their capacity to recognise and provide for tikanga and mātauranga Māori and to progress Māori aspirations within a social, political and historical context (Pihama, 2001; Smith, 1999).

As noted, Avondale Intermediate is a diverse multi-ethnic school whose educational philosophy seeks to both include and validate the cultural differences of its students. Although Māori culture is the focus of the research, this significant and related dimension of the school required recognition and engagement. Kaupapa Māori research principles were a valuable guide in this setting for a number of reasons. Kaupapa Māori theory and research provide a critique of societal power relationships that are often mirrored in the relationships between “researchers” (from the dominant cultural group) and the “researched” (from minority groups) (Smith, 1997). Such a critique gives rise to research processes and practices that seek to mitigate against reproducing such relations. Modes of research analysis have also tended to reflect patterns where the researched are interpreted according to the cultural logic of the researcher. In developing methodological and theoretical legitimacy, kaupapa Māori has contributed to creating space that upholds and is responsive towards other non-dominant cultural groups and their ways of knowing.

The research team agreed at the outset that because the research has a Māori (and Pasifika) focus, kaupapa Māori approaches were to guide research in schools focused on Māori culture and pedagogy. It was also important to the research team that senior Māori and Pasifika researchers with appropriate cultural knowledge and experience worked in each of the school sites. Such researchers provide the best potential for the establishment of positive and culturally safe relationships with Māori and Pasifika staff, students and community, and the cultural skills to “read” and engage the research context and data.

Purakau
One particular kaupapa Māori research methodology relevant to this case study is “purakau”. Purakau is a culturally responsive research approach to narrative inquiry developed by Māori academic Jenny Bol Jun Lee (2003). Purakau are Māori oral literatures or “stories” that preserve both Māori knowledge and world views, and their narrative forms. Like purakau, the stories and voices of participants in this research are understood to contain valid and important knowledge for developing responses to Māori educational issues. The “stories” of participants in this study have not been related in a distinctly purakau form; however participants’ views and knowledge are foregrounded across the study in ways that maintain the threads, themes, and narrative qualities of their discussions. In foregrounding participants’ stories, the analytical voice of the researcher is minimised, and the report remains accessible to a range of readers, providing the possibility for a range of possible interpretations.

Portraiture
A further methodological approach that has informed this case study is “portraiture”, a methodology developed by American educational researcher Sarah Lawrence-Lightfoot (Lawrence-Lightfoot, 1983). In developing “portraits” of schools, Lawrence-Lightfoot has attempted, in written form, to trace the mutually constitutive relationships of individuals and institutions, and how school culture is created through such interactions. This case study research has attempted to reflect such interactions by exploring dimensions of philosophy and culture, structure and practice in participants’ reflections which illuminate such relationships.

Lawrence-Lightfoot’s work has also focused on the notion of “goodness”—what is “good” and “effective” in schools rather than an attempt to “draw out the malignancies and search for the cures” (Lawrence-Lightfoot, 1983, p. 10) as much social scientific research tends towards. Lawrence-Lightfoot recognises that “goodness” is holistic and embedded in the school context, and is also imperfect and changing. This case study focuses on “goodness” as it relates to Māori culture in teaching and learning environments. In doing this, it has explored the ways Māori culture is approached as a whole in the school and embedded and practiced throughout the school context.

As with purakau, portraiture assumes that school members hold important and often “good” knowledge about a range of educational concerns. Careful, discerning, and empathetic treatment of participants’ reflections are required to understand, draw out, and present the “good” (that which is illuminating and “wise”) in participants’ reflections. This does not make an assumption that what is “good” is always “right”, but recognises that participant reflections represent important (albeit partial) knowledge and insights that can inform the educational issues under consideration.

Recognition of ongoing school change and “imperfections” in the study of this school also emerge; however they are not presented as malignancies, but as useful information for reflection in ongoing processes of school development, and broader educational research and debate.

In conclusion, this research is not a purakau, or a portrait. This research is a limited case study of a school that has been informed by purakau and portraiture methodologies and guided by kaupapa Māori approaches. These methodologies have proved relevant and appropriate to the context and analysis of the research, and have influenced the research methods explored in the following section.

Method

Collaborative relationships
This research project is funded through the Teacher and Learning Research Initiative, a Ministry of Education-funded initiative that encourages teachers and schools to be actively and collaboratively involved in research on effective pedagogy. The two-year duration of the project, together with the methodological approaches taken, required the establishment of positive and collaborative commitment from those involved to work together.

Establishing and sustaining such relationships can be difficult in schools where teachers are often overloaded, with little, if any, availability during school hours. Engagement with teachers at Avondale Intermediate required a commitment from them to contribute to the research both inside (where possible) and outside school hours. This situation meant the research needed to balance a desire for active involvement and collaboration, with the needs and energies of the school and its staff.

Despite these impediments a number of crucial and productive relationships were forged at Avondale Intermediate School. Dot Conning, an assistant principal, and director of teaching and learning at the school, undertook the liaison role for the research. Dot’s positive, humorous and enthusiastic approach to her role in the school (and support of the research) stem from a deeply held and articulated commitment to “making a difference” for Māori and all students. Dot became the reference point for all aspects of my involvement in the school. Dot worked to organise interview times, focus group participants, and to access school policy and documentation. She provided insight and information about varied aspects of the school including, importantly, developments and practices in the school’s Māori programme. On top of this crucial support, she participated as one of the four teacher participants in the study.

Another key relationship established was with Rota Carrington, the school’s principal. Rota is a visionary and facilitative school leader, passionate about the ongoing growth of a studentcentered, and a teacher-designed and led school. Rota supported the research from the outset, recognising the potential of the project to provide useful information and insight into ongoing school growth and development. Many interviews took place in the conference room adjoining Rota’s office and Rota often joined focus group discussions and contributed to informal “cup of tea” conversations. In these ways, Rota related many engaging stories, reflections, and insights creating an ongoing narrative about the philosophy and culture of the school that has significantly shaped this study.

As Māori, Dot and Rota contributed their educational and cultural knowledge, beliefs and experiences about Māori education and students to this project. As a Māori researcher, I considered myself fortunate, and felt at ease working with these exemplary educators. Their facilitative style meant that approaches to the research were easily negotiated with both school and researcher contributing to its direction.

For example, the identification of teachers, community members and students to participate in the research were determined by the school in accordance with their own sense of who might best reflect different aspects of the school. Interactions with school members often involved the sharing of ideas, observations and discussions about pedagogy, culture, groups of students and so on. In this way “meanings” were tested and negotiated. As the research proceeded and I developed questions or theories, I took every opportunity to discuss these with staff. Their responses significantly reshaped my understandings on a number of occasions, and have in turn contributed to shape of this report.

Relationships with school members, then, were crucial to the development of empathetic and critical attention to the school. Rather than attempting research objectivity or impartiality, such relationships meant that as the researcher, I was challenged to go the extra distance to engage carefully and discerningly with the “data” in seeking the “goodness” and “effectiveness” that Avondale Intermediate embodies.

The report has attempted to get school members “speaking” to each other around important and sometimes difficult issues about Māori education and culture. Such conversations can be all too rare in school settings given the load schools and teachers carry. In this sense, the case study has provided a mechanism for school dialogue and collaboration and the report documents that collaboration. In doing so, it provides an accessible and hopefully useful reference for ongoing reflection and action in Māori education at the school.

Gathering data
Research began with a number of visits to the school to discuss the project with school management and staff. A presentation was also made at a staff meeting to inform staff about the TLRI project in general, and to introduce our particular project and ourselves as researchers. These various visits provided opportunities to continue to articulate and discuss the aims of the research, to get preliminary understandings about the school’s philosophy and approaches to culture, and to understand the organisation of the school.

Focus group interviews followed with staff, the principal, the board of trustees and with students. Classroom observations also took place in the classes of participant teachers. Observations were preceded by short meetings with staff to reflect on issues and questions arising from their transcripts and to go over what the observations were looking for. Observations were followed up with short meetings to discuss and clarify anything arising from the observations.

Extract 2

Analysis

The purpose of the case study is to trace an accurate written reflection of school philosophy and pedagogy in relation to (Māori) culture and students. Analysis of the data is generally limited to the organisation, introduction, and summation of key themes. The reflections offered by participants is not scrutinised against educational theory or research, nor triangulated to point out gaps, weaknesses, or anomalies. This case study, rather, draws together participants’ reflections on a range of aspects of school and personal philosophy and practice. This process provides a forum of sorts, through which school members contribute their knowledge, insights, experiences, questions, and concerns about Māori culture and effective pedagogical practice. Participants’ knowledge is thereby contributed in a relatively unmediated form, to both the school itself, and to other educators and academic researchers for further engagement and interpretation.

Analysis began by reading and re-reading transcripts. Then it went through a process of organising all of the data under broad headings such as “school culture”, or “teacher pedagogy”. All of the data was organised to keep it all “in view”, providing time for familiarisation and to ensure that, in identifying themes, nothing of potential importance was overlooked. Themes which recurred across the data were then used as organisers for the various sections and chapters, and as far as possible the perceptions of all members who spoke to a particular issue were included. Responses to the range of questions posed have provided rich opportunities for participant’s reflections to “speak” to each other in ways that illuminate and provide dimension to key themes.

The report is organised into sections and chapters that reflect both the spectrum of questions posed by the research, and the thematic responses made by the research participants. The report begins with a short introduction followed by a methodology section. Four main chapters follow, and the report concludes with a section which summarises the key themes of the case study.

In conclusion, this case study sits alongside others that are tied together by an overarching comparative report. Together, this body of work provides a research contribution into the relationship between culture and culturally informed pedagogies to outcomes for Māori students. This case study has not sought to “prove” that culture counts to outcome, or to quantify the extent to which culture might support educational outcomes. Rather it has sought to draw together the knowledge, experience and reflections of practitioners around such issues, and to reflect on a school committed to cultural validation and responsiveness. The case study traces a range of salient issues, approaches, and practices that illuminate the nexus of culture, pedagogy, and outcomes. Together these provide an opportunity for engagement and learning about issues critical for Māori and Pasifika peoples and their cultures in schooling in Aotearoa/New Zealand.

“An insight into the teaching and learning practices within a Māori bilingual unit at an intermediate”, by Rihi Te Nana

[The following is extracted from the conclusion of this work on Henderson Intermediate.]

The information gathered from those interviewed for this research has highlighted a number of significant findings. Firstly, Māori culture is embedded in the pedagogy of the bilingual unit. This has been made possible by the Māori teachers in the unit who innately identify themselves as Māori. This is evident in the way they present themselves personally and professionally. These teachers deliberately teach the school curriculum with a strong Māori focus; this in itself has allowed Māori culture to be visible and hold a definite space and place with the wider school environment.

There are many reasons why parents have chosen to send their child to the bilingual unit: wanting their child to learn about their Māori identity; to have an experience of school that is affirming of a Māori world view; or the desire for their child to learn some Māori language—these are just some of the parents’ aspirations. The challenge that arises for parents (and teachers) is finding avenues for them to learn alongside their child, so that they can actively engage in their child’s educational development. Many of the children in the bilingual unit will have surpassed their parents’ educational background. While parents will be proud of their children and pleased that they will have a positive learning experience, the downside will be the same parents feeling embarrassed about their own limited formal education (this may include having no reo Māori) and therefore limiting their level of contribution to their child’s education.

The degree to which Māori culture is embedded is difficult to measure; however, for those Māori teachers in the unit, the other Māori staff within the school, and the wider school community, Māori culture has a strong presence at Henderson Intermediate. From the bilingual unit, Māori culture permeates throughout the school in different forms and on many levels of the school infrastructure. A few examples of how Māori culture has been infused throughout the school culture are: school-wide participation in learning karakia, waiata and kapa haka; professional development for the Te Kauhua project and the development of a school-wide Māori language programme.

Finally, it seems that for more than a decade Māori culture has been quietly developing in this mainstream environment and, in particular, the introduction of bilingual classes and the formation of the bilingual unit three years ago have been key to its growth. The bilingual unit is the heart of Māori culture at Henderson Intermediate and as it continues to beat loud and strong, so too will its influence continue to permeate through the wider school culture.

“My quality world: Pasifika learners within a quality school”, by Tanya Wendt Samu

[The following is extracted from concluding section of the work on Lincoln Heights School.]

Unique identity: Embedded in a distinctive philosophy

Lincoln Heights is a school that has an explicit set of shared beliefs and values, and this provides the basis for shared understanding, in the context of ethnically diverse and differently-abled learners. It is this set of shared values that knits the school community together and because the students are taught from new entrants what this is, they (students) and their families are socialised into this particular world view. It can be argued that the school has a very distinctive, carefully developed “culture”.

A useful definition of “culture” or the concept of culture is that of Helu-Thaman (1999). Samu cites Helu-Thaman definition of a culture’s distinguishing features or characteristics as follows:

I define culture as the way of life of a discrete group which includes a language, a body of accumulated knowledge, skills, beliefs and values. I see culture as central to the understanding of human relationships and acknowledge the fact that members of different cultural groups have unique systems of perceiving and organising the world around them. I also believe that the ways in which we have been socialised largely influence our behaviour and way of thinking as our world view. (1998, p. 22, emphasis added)

The underlying, deeply embedded philosophy of Lincoln Heights School is a product of over a decade of explicit development by staff. It is based on the ideas and theories of William Glasser— hence Lincoln Heights regularly being referred to by outsiders as “a Glasser school”. It is possible to talk about Lincoln Heights’ distinctive school culture in terms of:

• “a body of accumulated knowledge, skills, beliefs and values”
• “understanding of human relationships”
• “unique systems of perceiving and organising the world”
• “world view”. (Helu-Thaman, 1999, p. 30)

This school is able to articulate a distinctive view of education. This is a direct outcome of its special way of perceiving and organising learning and teaching within its organisational boundaries. It is a systematic approach that is fundamentally about developing productive relationships between teachers and learners, and between management, teachers and members of the wider school community. This perspective, or approach to education rests on a solid foundation of knowledge, skills, beliefs and values (theoretical, experiential) that has accumulated for the past decade. Lincoln Heights School has a special kaupapa that it has developed deliberately, carefully, and strategically.

Unfortunately, this specific and unique contextualised philosophy is not recognised as such in the school’s most recent Education Review Office report. In this report (released February 2006), the school’s values and vision of education are described thus:

A strong values base and an educational vision underpin the school’s programmes. The school’s vision focuses on developing students’ capacity to become competent, creative and skilful life-long learners. Teaching programmes strongly emphasise assisting students to become self-directed learners. Positive interpersonal relationships with staff and other adults are the foundation for teaching programmes. (2006, p. 1, emphasis added)

What is disappointing is that the specific nature and attributes of the school’s philosophy, its kaupapa, are not named or identified in its own right. The source of the “strong values base” and the school’s “educational vision” which have resulted in the “positive interpersonal relationships” between staff and students remains invisible. One can argue that this in itself is problematic because rendering the key features of the school’s distinctive culture and kaupapa invisible takes away the school’s own voice, its own creative control over what it is, what it is becoming.

It is this unique, organic school culture that shapes leadership, management, school organisation, and classroom management. The core values and beliefs that underpin this school philosophy create the contextual conditions that strengthen the school’s ability to be responsive to diversity— cultural/ethnic diversity and special needs (for example, physical ability) in particular. This responsiveness to diversity is not just pedagogical. It is also social and emotional. The school’s responsiveness to diversity is inclusive of the wider school community—the learners, their families, the teachers (and their families), as well as stakeholders beyond the school community; for example, the secondary school that most of the Year 8 students “feed into”.

So how does the overarching research question—“To what extent is culture (Pasifika) embedded in the teaching and learning at the school?”—pertain to Lincoln Heights School?

One can argue that the school’s strong values-based philosophy, developed for over a decade; its strong collaborative leadership structure and a staff with shared knowledge and commitment to the school’s philosophy; and a disposition towards reflective inquiry and professional learning has enabled it to be an education context which enables teachers to be culturally responsive in terms of not only managing student behaviour and developing students’ dispositions towards learning, but also enables them to establish classroom environments that are physically and socially geared towards inclusive teaching and learning.

The school’s progressive efforts to target and support its Pasifika learners and their families, to foreground students’ Pasifika cultures in wider school life as well as in classrooms, is due in large part to the school’s own cultural context. It is one that can support and sustain such initiatives. To repeat the Education Review Office report’s descriptions of the school’s major qualities, its “strong values base” and its “educational vision” has enabled the school to focus on “developing students’ capacity to become competent, creative and skilful life-long learners”. The school’s distinctive culture is one which enables strong “positive interpersonal relationships with staff and other adults” and it is these relationships that “are the foundation for teaching programmes’ of the school” (2006, p. 1). Like a seed bed that has been prepared to support and nurture a range of different seedlings, Lincoln Heights School’s special character—which it has developed for itself and which has been carefully developed over time by other educational theories and ideas in addition to the Glasser philosophy—provides the substance within which the Pasifika cultures (in all their “umbrella” diversities) can be embedded and sustained.

Summary of findings in relation to the initial research question

The overarching research question of this research project was:

To what extent is Māori and/or Pasifika culture embedded in the teaching and learning processes at the school, and how in turn does that contribute to the development of culturally and linguistically responsive pedagogy?

There are constraints to the project’s ability to summarise specific findings given the four very different, even unique settings within which each researcher worked. The specific findings of the research in each school and kura are contained in the full works of text. However, there are a number of broad themes that connect the four studies.

Schools and kura with a strong, well-articulated and well-established school philosophy appear to be schools that have a distinctive organisational culture. In such schools, staff demonstrate shared knowledge and understanding of the philosophy and culture, and consequently school and classroom practices and routines are clearly informed by this knowledge.

The school culture that is evident is not a quasi-corporate, business-orientated culture. Rather, it is a culture that is based on shared values, and people, people, people are at the centre of it. The culture of such schools is coherent, and not completely reliant on one strong leader; for example the principal. Such schools are at the stage in their deliberate development as an organisation where educational innovation and creativity is no longer generated and driven by a visionary leader—rather, it is done by visionary, reflective staff who are encouraged, supported, and led by a strong, like-minded collaborative leadership team.

A few points to ponder upon:

• Perhaps one would expect a kura such as Te Kura Kaupapa o Hoani Waititi Marae to have such a distinctive, well-articulated and culturally theorised philosophy of education. And perhaps one would also expect that such a philosophy will be “seen” in all aspects of the kura, particularly with approaches to teaching and learning.
• However, is it possible for mainstream state schools to develop and maintain a distinctive, well-articulated and culturally theorised philosophy of education?

And have evidence of its theory in action permeated throughout the school?

And for it to produce the kind of cultural capital that enables important schooling processes such as teaching and learning to be inclusive and responsive to diverse learners, particularly culturally diverse learners such as Māori and Pasifika?

The overarching research question relates specifically to the location of Māori and/or Pasifika cultures in the processes of teaching and learning, and pedagogy that is responsive in terms of culture and language. However, the researchers were not able to focus solely on the observed interactions between selected teachers and their students. The scope for understanding these interactions was broader—the data gathering activities that were used in each school (for example, interviews, observations, desk studies of relevant school documentation) and the specific methodological frameworks that informed and even shaped analysis and interpretation brought in broader, deeper knowledge and understandings related to the specific features of each school as a context. In-depth knowledge of context impacts on how one can interpret data and the longer the association of each researcher with their school as a privileged participant observer, the more significant context seemed to become. Understanding context became an important part of the process of understanding teaching and learning—and it is more than likely that this aspect of knowledge building (specific, evidence-based analyses of teacher-student engagement and interaction) is still to be completed in some of the project schools.

Summary of findings in relation to the strategic and practice values of the Teaching and Learning Research Initiative

This project’s general findings can be related to the strategic and practice values of the Teaching and Learning Research Initiative (TLRI).

Strategic value: Ngā hua rautaki

This discussion relates findings to the themes of:

• reducing inequalities
• addressing diversity
• understanding the processes of teaching and learning.

In terms of the “reducing inequalities” theme, a TLRI project “draws attention to the differences in outcomes that are observed and seeks to build a robust evidence base to improve practice and reduce disparity”. The researchers in this project can appreciate the broader national policy context wherein this notion of inequalities is derived. Statements such as the Minister of Education’s, in 2003, about the government’s education priorities clearly identify priority groups and acknowledge that underachievement in New Zealand is “systemic” and that the system has not served Māori, Pasifika, poor, and special needs learners well enough (Ministry of Education, 2003, p. 3). Alton-Lee, as cited in the literature review of section 3, part 8, draws on OECD comparisons to locate Māori and Pasifika learners in a position of weakness rather than strength in comparative data. One can assume that the outcomes of such international comparisons also inform national policy and efforts to address inequalities, including ethnic-specific ones.

However, the underlying values of the methodology of portraiture and kaupapa Māori are not of pathology, or problem analysis. The initial premise for the selection and approach to the schools and kura was that they were “good” schools—they were schools with a reputation for being good for Māori and Pasifika students in terms of their learning. They were schools that were considered to be “good” at making links and being inclusive of their Māori and Pasifika students, their families, and wider communities.

The project intended, and can, contribute to building up the knowledge base of Māori and Pasifika education. In other words, this project acknowledges that it has something meaningful to contribute to enhancing achievement of Māori and Pasifika learners, and reducing the disparities that do indeed exist on a broader level. However, during the process of the research itself, the researchers did not actively look for disparities or for “failure”. Tensions were identified and explored but the discussions in which they were identified were initiated by school based participants themselves.

According to the TLRI request for proposals, the theme of addressing diversity “acknowledges and takes into account the wide range of backgrounds, experiences and skills and characteristics of children and young people in promoting educational achievement”. The four works of text all acknowledge diversity and its relational effects. There is even diversity within the kura—a context which one could naively assume to be limited in terms of cultural diversity and other forms of difference that could impact on learning and teaching. The project found that each school was a context within which diversity, particularly cultural diversity, was acknowledged and espoused as being essential to learner identity, the school’s identity and the learning process itself. The discourse surrounding diversity tended towards notions of multiculturalism, the essence of which was the celebration of different cultures.

Teachers within each school and kura provided a wealth of insight into their beliefs about culture—their own, and their students—and the role of culture with the processes of teaching and learning. Each work of text explores the specific features of cultural diversity that the researchers encountered in their school or kura. For example, in Lincoln Heights School (designated at the start of the project and throughout as the school in which Pasifika was at the foreground), the notions of diversity were inclusive of physical disability and special needs. Children with such differences and specific needs related to these differences were integrated within the school in such a way that these particular differences appeared to be normalised within the school community. In that work of text, the researcher described a school “where needs such as dribbling and unexpected, incomprehensible noises are addressed by teachers and other children alike in a matter-of-fact way” because the school culture is one where physical difference is accommodated and normalised. Normalised does not mean rendered invisible—but as Best Evidence Synthesis writers Aitken and Sinnema (2005, p. 13) have stated, difference is at the centre of responding to diversity, in terms of teaching and learning. The Lincoln Heights researcher argues in that work of text that the school’s culture (described earlier in the “map”) provides the substance within which students’ culture, a significant form of difference, is able to be embedded.

Diversity in education, particularly cultural diversity, can be a source of interesting tensions. For example, in Avondale Intermediate, teacher efforts to foreground and be responsive to the needs of Māori learners is at times a challenge in a context where larger, more culturally coherent groups of Pasifika learners are making their needs, and interests “heard”. As noted previously, there is more detailed and in-depth treatment and discussion within each work of text.

The third theme of strategic value to TLRI is “understanding the processes of teaching and learning” in order to build understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of current pedagogical practice.

Observations were a very useful tool to understand the teaching and learning that took place in each school and kura. Distinctive practices were identified and described and again reference to the four different works of text will provide more detail. Follow-up interviews with teachers provided opportunities for researchers and teachers themselves to reflect on what researchers had observed—it was not unusual for teachers to comment that they had not had the opportunity to think about why they did what they did before. Teachers invariably draw on their own unique style with their classes and this shapes what went on in their classes in terms of teaching and learning. However Lincoln Heights school stood out in terms of a startling level of consistency across the whole syndicate in terms of classroom management routines, classroom displays, and the transitions from one learning activity to another. What was interesting was while the framework for teaching in each class of this syndicate was the same (and children appeared to respond really well within it), each teacher managed to infuse the learning environment with their unique personalities.

The research methodologies used in each context enabled a degree of in-depth knowledge and understanding that teachers themselves, busy and absorbed as professionals, may not have had the opportunity to develop and construct for themselves on their own, without the presence of an inquisitive, empathetic privileged observer, probing with questions, prodding reflections about the overly familiar and rendering it “unusual” enough for teachers, and others who were interviewed, to say “Oh—I never thought about that before … let me think on that … hmmmmm”. The relationships that developed over a year to 18 months between the school and its researcher cannot be underestimated in terms of the role played in the development of deeper knowledge of the context, which in turn informed interpretations of practice.

Relevance to practitioners

The research, particularly the works of text, will provide teachers with the opportunity to “see” another school through the lens of the researcher who then became the writer. This is in itself a privileged role, one of undoubted influence and power of which each researcher/writer is aware and respectful. The narrative styles within which each work of text has been written (while different from each other) should appeal to practitioners. The researchers are confident that their works of text will be of value to practitioner readers. Schools are not the same—each is a unique context. It is anticipated that practitioners will make relevant connections at different levels (for example, development of school philosophy and culture; classroom routines; specific forms of teacher-student interaction; creative school community interactions, and so on). The works of text will be a source of ideas and points of interest, as practitioner readers make comparisons between what they read and their own settings. The works of text may also challenge practitioner perceptions of what it means to contextualise pedagogical approaches for Māori and Pasifika learners.

Relevance to future research

This research project was intended, from its design by the original team of researchers to be a pilot study. The literature around qualitative methodologies of this nature recognises that the outcomes of such studies are not necessarily neat and tidy answers to original research questions. The researchers have felt enriched by their experiences within the schools and there is no doubt that their own learning can be developed further so that a future project can be designed and implemented so that it is more actively collaborative than the current project was able to be. In terms of future research, the researchers believe that there is a role or a place for qualitative approaches such as those used in this project for building and contributing to knowledge that links teaching and learning together. An in-depth knowledge and appreciation of the school context is very important.

One could ask, of future studies:

• To what extent can the researchers’ relationships with schools, and particularly teachers, enhance the ability of the researchers to conduct their research? And to what extent are such relationships documented, and if so, how so?
• To what extent are school culture and organisation, and other relevant features of the school context, documented and reflected upon, learned, appreciated—and written about? And to what extent do such understandings shape or influence the way data from that school can be interpreted?

5. Limitations of the project

Uluulu a mata afolau

You must thatch the house in order from bottom to the top otherwise it will let in water (Do not hurry things, they must be done properly)

This was a project with considerable potential. The researchers feel that the work that they have been involved with, and its outcomes, are of worth and value. However, several limitations need to be identified and discussed. These have impacted in a number of ways and at a number of different levels. It is hoped that this discussion will contribute to the design, development, and implementation of other research projects in order to strengthen and support the research efforts of those involved. This section of the report will provide a brief historical background to the project and then discuss the main limitations that the researchers’ of the project. The main limitations that have been identified involved project leadership; research design and project coordination; teacher–researcher interactions; and teacher–researcher collaborations.

Background

The original project proposal was for a collaboration across three different groupings of senior academics at what used to be the School of Education, University of Auckland. The series of meetings held included professors and senior lecturers with research and teaching interests and expertise in the areas of Māori education, Pasifika education and diversity in education—and quantitative and qualitative research methods. Of the senior researchers who became involved with the actual project (when the project proposal was accepted by TLRI and implemented), only one was involved with the proposal development meetings, and then only partially. She was unable to be involved in the final series of meetings around the proposed design due to work commitments overseas. Her recollections of the meetings she did attend are that they involved rich, robust discussions and debates about research. Her own involvement as an emerging researcher was limited to that of a passive (and awestruck) listener. Being privy to such discussions was undoubtedly a professional development experience in itself.

It was the intention of those who contributed to the substantive development of the proposal that it would be led by the professorial level staff member who was driving the initiative. Two other senior academic staff would be involved in a largely supportive and advisory capacity—but all three would put themselves forward as the principal investigators. The intention of the developmental group was that the proposed project would be a major vehicle for capacity and capability building for junior Māori and Pasifika academic staff within the School of Education, as well as being of potential relevance to their doctoral studies. Furthermore it was seen as creating opportunities to develop Māori and Pasifika postgraduate students as research assistants.

After the success of the project proposal (that is, the acceptance by TLRI), the staffing of the project was finalised. The Pasifika School of Education part-time staff member (an emerging researcher) who had been involved in the initial development of the proposal became one of the senior researchers, and was appointed to the position of project co-ordinator (0.2 full-time equivalent). Three other senior researchers were confirmed—two being lecturers in Māori Education in the then School of Education (and also emerging researchers pursuing doctoral studies) and the other being a Pasifika education consultant and educator, undertaking masters studies (see Table 2 for more detailed information on staffing and the project’s internal structure). All of the senior researcher roles were finalised by February of 2004. The project co-ordinator was responsible for finding suitable people to fulfil four research assistant roles as well as acting as project administrator. This particular layer of the project structure was finalised during the first two months of 2004.

The project team, led by Professor Stoddart, confirmed school involvement and prepared the ethics application for approval. The process of developing the ethics application became a means of orienting the senior researchers, particularly the three newer ones, to the research design and the theories that informed its development. She encouraged the senior researchers to submit an abstract to present at a symposium about the project at the 2004 Diversity conference, held in Los Angeles. She left for the United States a few weeks before the Los Angeles conference, the plan being to meet at that conference for the team presentation. The events that resulted in her nonreturn to New Zealand ( refer pages 29,30) occurred. In December 2004, the project team was informed that she was not returning to New Zealand.

Project leadership—the loss of the cornerstone

The loss of this particular principal investigator (see pages 29, 30) meant the withdrawal of the research contribution associated with her role. After serious consideration, it was determined that in her role of project co-ordinator, Ms Tanya Wendt Samu was fulfilling the expectations and requirements of a principal investigator role (in terms of organising production of milestone reports, arranging meetings with schools and the research teams) and therefore she was appointed to that position. But this was not in itself the best solution to the problem. In retrospect, the remaining project team members may not have fully appreciated the extent of the problem—the problem being the loss of the source of the specific knowledge and expertise informing the proposal, and the loss of the key mentor who was going to work alongside the senior researchers in the field, and throughout all the stages of the research process.

 

Research projects of this scale and complexity need to have the experienced leadership of a senior academic to oversee the overall management of the project; to develop and facilitate a dissemination programme; and to create and facilitate a learning community for those involved (as a formal structure through which specific capacity building opportunities are planned and executed). But most of all, research projects of this scale and complexity require leadership that has the capacity and capability to monitor the implementation of the research itself throughout the lifetime of the project in relation to the original design and to ensure its alignment with the specific principles and values of the TLRI.

Project staffing—the need for stability

Other issues related to staffing of the research project emerged over its lifetime, and had an impact on the overall research management and implementation. One of the senior researchers, Ms Lili Tuioti, withdrew from the project early in the research process due to her appointment to a key educational leadership position in the Tokelau Islands. Later in the project Dr Tupeni Baba (one of the remaining principal investigators) returned to an academic post at the University of the South Pacific, Fiji. Dr Leonie Pihama (the other principal investigator) resigned from her position at the University of Auckland early in 2006 year when the senior researchers were in the early stages of analysing and writing their works of text (however she continued to be a source of support for the research team).

The project involved research in three schools and a kura. There were four senior researchers— each responsible for research in a specific school. Each senior researcher was to be supported by a research assistant. Because of the difficulty of finding someone with similar expertise to Ms Tuitoti, and because of the involvement of the research assistants, the project co-ordinator made the decision to cover two schools, rather than one, as the senior researcher, until Professor Stoddart’s return. Professor Stoddart had indicated that she would then take on the work involved.

At the start of 2005, it became clear that it would not be feasible for the project coordinator/senior researcher to be responsible for the research in two schools. This was because:

• by the end of 2004, two of the research assistants had left the project (one for a position on the university’s new Star Path Programme and the other for family reasons)
• at the end of 2004, the project was told that Professor Stoddart was not able to return to New Zealand
• early in 2005, the third research assistant (and project administrator) left, due to her decision to pursue doctoral studies in another department
• the project co-ordinator’s own substantive employment position changed, as she took on more management responsibilities
• the amalgamation between the University of Auckland and Auckland College of Education, which formally occurred in September of 2004, began to impact on the substantive employment positions of two of the senior researchers via increases in workload associated with new course development.

To resolve the need for senior researchers, two experienced researchers (one Māori, one Pasifika) were contracted to assist with the school-based research. Neither were employees of the University of Auckland—one of them was, however, a doctoral student in the Faculty of Education, completing her thesis. She had to return to Fiji after the submission of her thesis in August. The task of finding appropriate replacement part-time research assistants and administration was so protracted that the decision was made to continue without such support, thereby requiring the senior researchers and project co-ordinator to “make do” themselves.

It may also be worth noting that one of the senior researchers took leave from her substantive position at the University of Auckland in 2005 to focus on writing her doctoral thesis. She maintained her commitment to, and role in, the research project over that period of time. Her work in the kura was also related to her thesis. It is most likely that these specific circumstances have contributed to the particularly in-depth and insightful work of text she has produced.

When considered collectively, the unexpected, unanticipated staffing changes at the various levels (principal investigator, senior researcher, research assistant) as well as the wider institutional changes, impacted on the project in a number of ways, by:

• challenging the ability of the project to be consistent in terms of its interactions with each school (for example, changes in the researchers at schools and the need, in some instances, to begin a new set of relationships)
• changing the nature of senior researchers’ responsibilities. The reduction of efficient administration and research support meant the need to juggle many tasks; for example, setting up meetings and/or interviews with teachers in schools and calling to confirm them; and then conducting them and ensuring equipment was ready and operating. All this occurred alongside meeting the requirements of full lecturing loads.

University-based researchers may need to consider the differing demands and expectations placed on more junior academic staff who are working on their own doctoral degrees, and are often responsible for undergraduate courses rather than masters supervision. Only one of the universitybased senior researchers had buyout for her involvement in the project—and that was related to project co-ordination. The senior researchers employed as lecturers by the university were contributing the research component time of their employment positions to the project. The decision not to seek and employ research and administration support, in 2005, was perhaps not the best.

Research design

The complex, original research design was both innovative and groundbreaking. Senior researchers were committed to the underlying qualitative approaches involving portraiture and kaupapa Māori. The proposal recognised that there was scope for development (change) once work commenced in schools—given the nature of the methodologies. However, the research journey of moving from research design to implementation in the different schools, all the while keeping the overall project aims in view, required informed, experienced steering and monitoring. The loss of Professor Stoddart had a significant impact in this respect.

Teacher–researcher interactions (practical)

Schools are very busy places, and this can be a limitation to a research project, if researchers and the research design cannot be flexible and accommodating.

For example, schools (and kura) are also subject to staffing changes that impact on the research activities. Across the schools and kura, the project absorbed the ripples (and in some instances, waves) of unanticipated events. These include, for example:

• change in principal at the kura
• changes in management (deputy principal and co-ordinator with the project)
• changes in the personal life circumstances of school-based participants (ill health, pastoral care of students, school commitments and, in one sad case, death).

Efficient communication with teachers can be problematic. Teachers may have had email accounts—but few checked them regularly. Phone messages seeking confirmation for interview times did not always get through in a timely fashion. Researchers found that dropping into the school during lunch or morning break time was the quickest way to catch up with an individual to confirm or change arrangements. Faxing a message was also found to be an efficient means to get messages to individuals—both teachers and senior staff seemed to check their pigeon holes daily, even twice daily (at break time and on their way home after school).

Emerging issues and recommendations for future research

From the point of view of the senior researchers:

• This project was intended as a pilot study—and the senior researchers have always perceived it as such. Qualitative research of this kind that brings out the voices of teachers, students, and school communities in a search to understand what is “good” and why it is “good” is limited in New Zealand. This project argues that more in-depth studies on schools and kura would contribute to the knowledge base of our education system—teaching and learning do not occur in a vacuum. The processes occur in schools—and schools are organic contexts, complex and rich in social constructions. These contexts are sometimes rendered invisible in research studies.
• The logical “next step” is the dissemination of each work of text. Whether it be via presentations at teacher conferences and education research conferences, or presentations placed on the school websites (two of the schools involved with this project have their own website), or seminar series within the schools themselves (the staff of two of the schools have been organised into research teams to examine school-specific issues and concerns), a dissemination programme would be a product of consultation with each school.
• The development of a resource, based on all of the works of text and aimed at helping teachers reflect on their practice, is a possible post-pilot project.

6. Capability and capacity building

That’s what education means—to be able to do what you’ve never done before

George Herbert Palmer

Two sets of partnerships were developed as an integral part of the project. It was intended that both were to play a major role in building the research capability and capacity of those involved, particularly in recognition of Principle Six of the Teaching and Learning Research Initiative (TLRI) which is:

The research projects within the TLRI will be undertaken as a partnership between researchers and practitioners. (Teaching and Learning Research Initiative, 2007)

This section reflects on the project’s attempts to build the capability of researchers to undertake quality research, and to build teacher capability to improve practice and gain expertise as teacherresearchers.

Building researchers

It was the explicit intent of the project to engage in:

• the development of a cross-cultural, cross-disciplinary team of Māori, Pasifika, and Pākehā scholars and practitioners who will collaborate to provide multiple lenses and perspectives on the integration of language, culture and teaching
• the mentoring and support of a group of emerging Māori and Pasifika scholars engaged in masters and doctoral programmes in the context of a large-scale empirical study.

The cross-cultural, cross-disciplinary team

The university-based researchers began the project as a unique internal collaboration of principal investigators, senior researchers, and research assistants who were Māori, Pasifika and Pākehā (refer to Table 3). Roles and responsibilities were clear—as were the “lines” of mentoring and support. For example, Māori senior researchers had the support of a research assistant fluent in te reo, and their first point of consultation regarding research issues was to be Dr. Pihama. They were to go to the project co-ordinator for matters to do with mileage claims, koha for teachers, administration costs and support with networking in the schools (refer to second column, shaded).

Table 2 University-based staff—roles and responsibilities

However, as discussed in section 5, significant changes in staffing occurred over 2004. The subsequent problems that arose were addressed or resolved in ways that resulted in substantial changes to the internal structure of the university-based team of researchers. Once researchers began to develop better understandings of their schools, the way that each school was categorised in terms of the research design had to be changed too. Table 4 provides an outline of the researchers, roles and responsibilities in mid July of 2005.

Table 3 Roles and responsibilities as at mid-July 2005

The lines of mentoring and support were no longer “streamlined”. Research advice could be sought from either Dr Pihama or Dr Baba. Tanya Wendt Samu continued in the role of project coordinator; however, in terms of the designation of principal investigator, she was limited in the extent to which she was able to mentor colleagues in terms of research and methodology.

The final university-based research team for this project, at the start of the university’s academic year of 2006, is outlined as follows:

Table 4 Final research team, 2006

Only two members of the project remain as employees of the University of Auckland (refer to shaded rows of Table 4).

As evidenced in each work of text, the senior researchers became involved with each of their schools. They met as researchers on an “as needs” basis to discuss the research activities being carried out in each school; for example, the questions for interviews. They also met to address administration matters (such as transcribing recorded interviews) and to share their experiences of their respective schools. Each work of text not only documents what the individual researcher learned from being within that school or kura, they also document (albeit indirectly, in one instance) the researcher’s active development and application of new methodologies and theorising.

Emerging Māori and Pasifika scholars: Masters and doctoral candidates

The research interests of the senior researchers aligned to aspects of the proposed project. Before withdrawing from the project, Lili Tuioti had embarked on her masters studies and so she anticipated that her participation in the project would help her to develop a specific topic for her masters thesis. Jenny Bol Jun Lee was well into her doctoral studies, and was interested in relating Māori concepts of pedagogy and developing kaupapa Māori research paradigms around story telling and narratives. Te Kawhau Hoskins’ doctoral work is about notions of Māori community and school engagement with their Māori communities. Tanya Wendt Samu is developing her doctoral proposal around the notion of diversity in education and the location of Pasifika learners in the emerging discourses.

It is possible to look at the works of text, particularly the ones written by the university-based senior researchers (doctoral candidates) and “see” a degree of reflection of the specific interests of the researcher and her doctoral study interests and activities. This has shaped the specific lenses that each researcher used or viewed from.

Building teachers

The integration of research and practice via a meaningful collaboration between researchers and practitioners was attempted in the project. As described in previous sections, the relationships that senior researchers developed in each school were crucial. The senior researchers have described and discussed them as collaborations. However, they were not collaborations within which teachers took on active roles within specific research activities.

Attempts were made in the early stages of the research to create such opportunities. There were several good ideas that were developed but proved difficult to sustain. It is possible that the nature of the overall methodology, and the overall leadership challenges experienced by the project, were the key limiting factors. However, as ideas these may be of interest to future research projects.

For example:

• “Pulse Points”—making key literature accessible

The researchers wanted to provide school-based project members of the project (particularly the syndicate teachers) with access to the literature informing the project. They appreciated that reading and discussing readings might be a challenge for busy teachers. A series of summaries of key readings were written by the project co-ordinator. They were called “Pulse Points”. Five were written in the first year of the project, and shared with teachers in some of the schools. The idea for the mini-literature reviews came from the Scotland Education Research Association (SERA). The organisation’s website has a series called “Spotlights”^[7]. Each is a short piece of writing (not much more that three to four pages) about a specific project or reading. The titles for the Pulse Points written for this project were:

– “The Portraiture Method of Social Scientific Inquiry” (Samu, 2004)
– “‘Diversity’ and ‘Multiculturalism’ in Education and Schooling—from Notion to Theoretical Concept”( Samu, 2005a)
– “A Focused Reading Guide” for Creating Methodological Space: A Literature Review of Kaupapa Māori Research, by Leonie Pihama, Fiona Cram, and Sheila Walker (Samu, 2005b)
– “What is Diversity in Education? The American Genesis”(Samu, 2005c)
– “The Diversity Dilemma: The Need to Prioritise Learner Diversities” (Samu, 2005d).

• Charting changes in roles and responsibilities:

An attempt was made to create a visual representation of the rather fluid way that the relationship between school-based and university-based researchers was evolving, in line with the shifts in focus that took place in some of the schools. These are presented in Appendix A.

One can argue that the research relationship between researchers and teachers did enhance important reflective capacities and capabilities, relevant to research. The qualitative methodological approaches provided teachers with opportunities to reflect on their familiar environments, practice and procedures in ways that they might not have seen themselves, or had taken for granted or seen in a different way. The chance to see from a different perspective provided opportunities to learn from one’s own practice and setting in ways that were not or may not have been possible before.

Footnotes

1. “Mainstream” was the term the team reluctantly ascribed to schools with an espoused belief that cultural diversity is best addressed without privileging or foregrounding any one or other cultural grouping. ↑

3. See also Sharples (1989). ↑
4. See the Wänanga Capital Establishment Report (Waitangi Tribunal, 1999). ↑
5. Please note that the population total adds up to more than 100%—this is because people identifying with more than one ethnic group. ↑
6. Programme for International Student Assessment. ↑
7. See www.scre.ac.uk for the Scottish Council for Research in Education, now the SCRE centre. ↑

 

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Acknowledgements

Tena koutou katoa.

E ki ana tetahi whakatauki, “He ringa rau e oti ai”.

Na reira, e tika ana kia mihia nga tangata katoa i whai wahi mai ki tenei kaupapa, ara, nga tumuaki, nga pouako, nga akonga me nga matua o Te Kura Kaupapa Māori o Hoani Waititi, te Kura Takawaenga o Avondale, te Kura Takawaenga o Henderson, me te Kura Tuatahi o Lincoln Heights. Tena rawa atu koutou me nga tini whakaaro i tukua mai hei tautoko i ta tatou kaupapa, i runga tonu i te whanaungatanga i tipu mai i waenganui i a tatou.

E mihi kau atu ana hoki ki a Takuta Leonie Pihama, ki a Takuta Tupeni Baba me o matou hoa o te Kura Akoranga o te Whare Wānanga o Tamaki-makau-rau, na ratou matou i arahi i roto i tenei mahi rangahau.

Ka kore hoki ta matou manu rangahau e rere, ki te kore he huruhuru. Na reira, me mihi, ka tika, ki te ropu o te Teaching and Learning Research Initiative, na ratou tenei kaupapa i tautoko.

Tena rawa atu koutou katoa.

Na matou noa, na,

Tanya Wendt Samu, Jenny Bol Jun Lee, Te Kawehau Hoskins, Rihi Te Nana.

 

Appendix A: Stages of development, project structure (comprising Figures 1–5)